#why am i listening to five minute rambles that lead to nothing

[izzy-b-hands]

undecided independents who have no actual political knowledge or opinions are the bane of my existence right now

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

It's Going To Be You

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Prompt - I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was…not love at first sight exactly, but - familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you.

—————————————————–

Spencer Reid knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you were something else, he could tell from one glance that you would change his life. No words needed to be exchanged for the man to be completely and utterly taken by you. He watched as you walked through the door, though your head was held high, shoulders pushed back giving the impression of complete confidence, he saw the way you fiddled with the strap of your bag with one hand. When he looked at your other hand he could see your forefinger picking at your thumb, clearly a nervous habit. He watched as you looked around the room, watched as Rossi made his way over to you, guiding you over to Hotch’s office with a smile.

“Down, pretty boy.” Derek grinned as Spencer startled, his head snapping around to face Derek just as you entered Hotch’s office. “I’ve never seen that look on your face and you don’t even know her name.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer replied, cringing at how unconvincing he sounded.

He turned away from Derek and tried to focus on his paperwork but he could stop his eyes from straying over to the closed office door every few minutes much to Derek and Rossi’s amusement.

“Who is she anyway?” Derek asked.

“She’s lucky number ten,” Rossi told them, smothering a smile as Spencer looked over, “who knew finding another agent would be so difficult.”

“Wait,” another voice interrupted, “there’s a new person here? Is she nice? Why is that always my first question?” The group laughed as Penelope quizzed Rossi.

“Listen, I know as much as you people.” He said and before anyone else could speak Penelope was being handed a folder causing them all to groan.

-

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked as you were granted access to the office.

Hotch stood as you walked in, moving around his desk to hold a hand out to you.

“Yes and you’re Y/F/N Y/L/N, I presume?” He asked, smiling slightly at you as you nodded, still fiddling with your bag. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, please have a seat.”

“Thank you sir.” You smiled, taking a seat in the offered chair watching as he made his way back behind his desk.

“Your supervisor spoke very highly of you when I spoke with him, your success rate is impressive.” Hotch praised, glancing down at the file in front of him. “Your latest case seemed rather difficult, are you sure you’re ready to be back in the field again?”

“I passed all my psychiatric exams, I was cleared to return.” You told him stiffly.

“I’m aware of your results, I just want to be sure you’re ready. Infiltrating yourself into the life of Douglas Miller couldn’t have been an easy feat.” Hotch watched as a look of satisfaction took over your face.

“I’m ready, sir.” You told him, relaxing slightly. “It was a tough case, I’ll be the first to admit that seeing what I saw had an impact but I can do this.”

Hotch smiled at you before closing the folder.

“I believe you,” he said, “I think you’ll be a valuable addition to this team.”

The words were what you were hoping to hear, you’d wanted a job with the BAU for longer than you could remember but you paused. Surely it wasn’t that easy, right?

“Wait? That’s it?” You asked.

“That’s it.” Hotch confirmed, fighting back a smile at your expression.

“But- but I’ve been here less than five minutes.” You countered back, there were so many emotions going on within you that you felt slightly overwhelmed.

“Y/N, ever since your name was put forward I looked into your work and I was impressed. Your skills at undercover work are far above what I’ve seen in a long time, that alone would be an incredibly useful assest to the team but on top of that your ability to connect and empathise with unsubs, fast thinking and your profiling skills- trust me, you deserve this job and I have complete faith in you.” Hotch’s words had left you speechless, you had no clue how to respond but thankfully you didn’t have to as the door was pushed open and both you and Hotch turned to look at the brightly dressed woman in the doorway.

“I’m sorry to interrupt sir but we have a case.” The woman said and Hotch stood gesturing for you to follow.

“You have a to go bag?” He asked as you both walked out the door.

“Yes sir.” You nodded, still baffled by how well things had gone.

“Good, welcome to the team Y/L/N.”

-

“Everyone, this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m sure proper introductions can be made later.” Hotch said as the two of you entered the room before gesturing to Garcia that she could begin.

“Ok, yes, so, we have five bodies so far found in Wyoming. The first two bodies were hidden amongst some trees close to firehole bay. The ME presumes that the time of death was mostly likely a week ago but we should have full confirmation when you arrive. The victims, who we haven’t been able to identify yet, but I am working on it, were stripped completely and the wounds, that are in your files because I so do not need to see that, show heavy signs of torture. ” Garcia informed you all.

“The next body was a single male, again stripped and tortured and the ME says this death is most likely four to five days old. This body was found a few miles away from Basin Bay Point campsite.”

“Wait a second,” somebody interrupted, causing you to turn your head. There sat a man, younger than the rest of the team, he was…how you had missed him you didn’t know but now you felt like you couldn’t look away. “If I’m not mistaken those places are roughly twenty miles from each other at walking distance.”

“And driving distance?” An older man asked.

“I don’t think there is a way to drive to Basin Bay Point, especially not to where the body was left.” The younger man replied, looking down at the folder he was given with a frown.

“I’ll have a map ready for you on the plane.” Penelope assured him before continuing. “Now, the next two bodies were the most recent, ME says they were killed a day or two ago and these victims we have been able to identify as Taylor Gomez and her boyfriend Jack Gaskarth.” Penelope said as she brought their pictures up. “They were never reported missing because they had told friends and family they were going camping, which checks out because their bodies were found three miles away from Lewis Lake campground. They show the same wounds as the other vics.” Garcia explained.

You grimaced as you looked down at the tablet Hotch had passed you as you saw a young man and woman, naked with slices all across their bodies, as well as deep bruising to the neck.

“What was the CoD, Garcia?” The younger man spoke up again.

“ME still needs to run a full examination but her best bet is that it was asphyxiation.” She told him with a frown.

“That makes sense, there isn’t a lot of blood or scabbing which suggests they were done post mortem.”

“So what,” you spoke up, pausing for a moment when everyone turned to you, “the unsub blitz attacks the victims and kills them before torturing them? What’s the point in that?”

“It could be a number of things actually. Perhaps it’s not about the kills for him but more to do with the fascination of the human body, we’ve seen it before where curiosity leads to this kind of attack. It could also be that he has to kill, he has a compulsion to kill and once he’s given into that compulsion he gets to fulfil other urges. If I had to guess I’d say the victims are victims of opportunity-” The younger man rambled, his hands gesturing in front of him as he spoke causing you to smile.

“Because there is no set pattern, he crosses race and gender lines and there’s no secondary location.” You cut off the other man who looked at you with a grin.

“Exactly, the area is so isolated that he can get away with quick and easy killings but because it doesn’t seem like there’s a secondary location yet we have to presume that the torture is a means to satisfy himself when he can’t hold his victims hostage.”

“It’s a long flight and this unsub doesn’t appear to be slowing down. Wheels up in fifteen.” Hotch said as he stood up, everyone was quick to follow until it was just you and the guy you had spoken to left.

“Hi.” He said, causing you to turn around with a smile.

“Hi.”

“I’m Spencer, Spencer Reid.” He introduced himself.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his, your eyebrows pulling together slightly as he shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t um,” He said, causing you to drop your hand and nod understandingly, “it’s nothing against you, just…germs.” He trailed off, berating himself in his head.

“No problem.” You smiled again, god that smile. Spencer felt his heart race.

“Congratulations on joining the team.” He praised as the two of you walked out of the round table room.

“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He watched as the smile fell from your face before you shook your head slightly.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, understanding the nerves. He couldn’t help but glance down, almost smiling as he saw you picking at your thumb.

“Yeah, I’m just, what if I mess up?” You couldn’t help but ask. After wanting this job for as long as you had, all the hard nights and long days spent training you were finally here and you’d be damned if you screwed everything up.

“You won’t, Hotch wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you were good enough, trust me. I think you’ll be amazing.” He told you, flushing slightly at his own words and the soft smile that replaced the frown on your face.

“Thank you Spencer.” You replied softly and before he could respond the rest of the team was calling for the two of you to head to the air strip.

-

On the plane you were properly introduced to everyone as you took a seat next to Spencer, sitting opposite Hotch and Rossi. On the table in front of you Spencer had both a map of the US and a smaller map of Wyoming. You watched his fingers trace invisible lines as his eyebrows knitted together.

You were trying not to stare, really you were, but there was just something about the man that made you want to get to know him.

Thankfully before anyone noticed your eyes glancing at Spencer every few moments, the man himself spoke.

“Guys, if you map out where the five victims were found,” Spencer began, circling three places on the map as he did, “it looks like the victims might have been hiking the continental divide trail.”

“Pretty boy, isn’t that trail like thousands of miles long?” Morgan asked, watching as Spencer nodded, pushing the little map of Wyoming out of the way for a moment and drawing a line down the map of the US.

“This is the continental divide trail, it’s 3,300 miles long and it’s actually quite difficult to hike. These people had to have been exceptionally fit and healthy which further backs up the theory that these were blitz attacks. You can go days without seeing other people when hiking the trail and most hikers have to give up because of lack of supplies or needing urgent medical care from injuries and illnesses they attract. A part of the Wyoming part of the trail includes a 120 mile stretch of desert with water sources few and far between.” Spencer rambled and you couldn’t help the soft smile, though you did try to hide it behind your hand, glancing away from Rossi when you locked eyes with him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So we have a serial killer and 3,300 miles of potential hunting grounds?” JJ asked.

“So far he seems to be focusing on Wyoming, which narrows the geographic profile down to…’ Spencer paused as he pulled the Wyoming map closer to him, “550 miles.”

“I hope you all brought your hiking boots.” Rossi said as groans filled the jet.

“Hello my crime fighters.” Garcia’s voice sounded through the speakers. “Hotch, the families of the latest two victims are at the station waiting for you.”

“Thank you Garcia,” Hotch replied before turning to the team. “JJ, I want you to come with me to the station and help interview the families. We also need to get ahead of the media on this before they start glorifying the unsub. Reid, since the geographic profile is mostly established, I want you to take Y/L/N and head to the latest crime scene. Dave and Morgan, the two of you head to the second crime scene.”

You and Spencer both shared a look at the news you were travelling to a crime scene that couldn’t be driven too. Whilst you managed to pass the FBI’s training and fitness tests you weren’t exactly athletically inclined and seeing from the look Spencer was giving you neither was he.

Judging from the chuckles that filled the plane the others had come to the same conclusion that you and Spencer were not going to recover from this trip.

-

You had driven as close to the crime scene as you could get, which was thankfully closer than the one Morgan and Rossi had to go to. It was still a hell of a hike to get to where the unsub had dumped the bodies.

“Ok, ok,” Spencer panted, cheeks flushed from the heat. “Let’s take a break.”

“Please.” You were quick to agree and the two of you sat down heavily on a fallen tree trunk. You had all been warned that you needed supplies, even for a short hike. So you had both been sent out with backpacks filled with water bottles and food. There were other supplies like maps, compasses and first aid kits that you were hoping you wouldn’t have to use. Thankfully you had been paired with the man with the eidetic memory because you couldn’t read a map to save your life.

After the two of you gulped down some water and caught your breath Spencer spoke up.

“Why the BAU?” He asked suddenly, causing you to look up in confusion.

“Sorry?” You replied.

“You said you had wanted to join the BAU for a long time, why?” He asked again, not pushing you when you paused.

It wasn’t a secret what had happened to your family, Spencer could easily find the information out if he wanted to but you wanted to be the one to tell him. It wasn’t a story you liked sharing with people but something about Spencer made you feel…safe.

“When I was a kid there was a serial killer but he was in the next state over and we were from a small town so nobody thought to worry and after a while things went quiet so everyone just assumed he stopped, you know? Anyway, one day I went to my friend’s house, it was summer and I was always out with my friends. I was there for a few hours but I was always home in time for dinner except for this day, I ended up losing track of time and headed home an hour late. When I got home, my momma was there in the kitchen. She was covered in blood and I just screamed. The rest of my family didn’t make it either. When the police came they said the markings were the same as the victims from the next state over.” You told him, not pausing for breath as you rushed through the story. You watched as his expression fell, his sympathy written on his face.

“I’m so sorry.” He told you and you could hear the sincerity in his tone. You gave him a small smile before continuing.

“I could just never understand why. The thing that kept me up at night was that question: why? Why them? Why did he come here? Why wasn’t I home? Why did I deserve to live? I started researching and somehow came across an article about the BAU, from there I knew I wanted to work there.”

“Most people wouldn’t be able to come back from something like that, especially at such a young age.” Spencer said, causing you to glance over at him. “They’d be so proud of you.”

You couldn’t help but let out what sounded like a chuckle and a sob at those words, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen in fear he had upset you further but then you smile brightly and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I like to think so.” You said softly. “You ready to continue?” You asked, chuckling as he groaned before standing up.

“I hate Hotch.” Was the grumbled response and the laugh he received in return made every sore bone and the aching feet worth it.

-

“We know that this unsub is a physically fit white male in his mid to late thirties.” Hotch began.

“Looking at the geographical pattern it’s safe to assume that he too is hiking the Continental Divide Trail in search of victims who are isolated from the rest of civilization. He also has no problems taking down two victims.” Spencer continued.

“The period in between kills is lessening so we should expect to find another body soon, have as many officers as possible on the rest of the trail.” You picked up.

“Considering the last kill was two days ago, the average person could walk up to 30 miles a day on normal terrain but we have to consider that the terrain out there is harsh so lets say he walks 20 miles a day that gives up a 40 mile radius he could be in. He is guaranteed to stay on the continental divide trail so stop every male you see.” Spencer told the LEO’s and after some more information was shared everyone headed off in different directions, the BAU members heading into the room they had been given to work in.

“Y/N,” Hotch said, causing everyone to look over at you.

“Yes sir?” You asked, looking up from your laptop.

“You’re probably the most skilled undercover agent in this room,” He said, causing your cheeks to flush and Spencer couldn’t help but smile. “I know this isn’t exactly the type of case you’d usually be assigned but perhaps if we send you out there we have a better chance of catching him. This man is impulsive, if he sees you he won’t be able to control himself.” Hotch explained, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from most of the team.

You, however, relaxed, thankful that you hadn’t done something wrong. Undercover work was easy, you were comfortable with it, you knew you were good at it. Obviously you weren’t as confident at this part of the job yet, how could you be on your first case, but undercover work? That was your area of expertise.

“Of course sir.” You agreed easily before remembering how fun the small hike to the last crime scene was…your body would not thank you for signing up for a much longer hike.

“Hotch, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Morgan spoke up causing you to frown. Sure they didn’t know you yet but surely your record spoke for itself. “No offence to you,” he said quickly as he turned to you, “it’s just-“

But before he could finish Hotch cut him off, “I have full faith in Y/L/N’s abilities.”

You couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride at Hotch’s words, a man who you looked up to, a man who barely knew you but was trusting you with so much already. You locked eyes with Spencer who smiled at you reassuringly.

“I’m not doubting the kid’s abilities,” Morgan continued, missing the way you rolled your eyes at being called a kid. “I’m just saying maybe don’t send her in on her own on her first case.”

“I’ll go with her.” Spencer spoke up before Hotch could argue back.

Your eyes widened at Spencer’s offer, he did just as well as you did on your first outing and now he was offering to put himself through hours more of that for what?

“Are you ok with that, Y/N?” Hotch asked you.

You didn’t even hesitate to nod, more than happy for the opportunity to spend time with Spencer Reid.

-

“We’ll be close by the whole time,” Hotch told you as he passed you your backpack filled with supplies, “the second we hear something, we’ll be there.” He assured you and you couldn’t help but smile at his concern.

“I’ll be fine, sir. This is actually the part of the job I’m good at.” You laughed, watching as his lip twitched upwards.

“You’ve been a great help in coming up with a profile too.” He assured you and before you could say anything the rest of the team was flooding in.

The plan for you and Spencer to hike up to a specific spot that Spencer had managed to pinpoint the unsub at and set up camp there. From there you would wait and hope for the unsub to appear. The man was impulsive and his need to kill would be overwhelming by now. The two of you were wired up so that if the unsub appeared the rest of the team could step in and help with the arrest.

You and Spencer were dropped off half an hour away from your campsite just so that if the unsub was around he wouldn’t suspect anything.

The walk was mostly silent, both you and Spencer focusing on not breaking an ankle on the uneven terrain when Spencer finally spoke up.

“Morgan didn’t mean anything insulting.” He told you, causing you to pause before shrugging your shoulders and continuing. When you stayed silent Spencer continued, “he’s just protective but sometimes he isn’t really good at showing it and it comes across…”

“It comes across like he thinks I can’t do my job despite this being my forte.” You finished with a huff before sighing. “I’m sorry, I just…you can’t imagine how many times a male colleague has said I can’t do something and then a supervisor has agreed, you don’t understand how hard I have to fight to be given assignments and not have somebody constantly berating me.” You ranted.

“People look at me like I’m a child. When I first joined the BAU nobody would take me seriously, without Gideon I don’t know what would have happened.” Spencer told you quietly, causing you to frown.

“So you can understand why it’s so frustrating that someone who doesn’t know me didn’t even want to give me a chance.” You replied, causing him to nod sadly. ‘I know he probably didn’t mean anything but…”

“You’ve heard that your entire career.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch was the first person to give me a chance without any hesitation.” You told him softly, watching as he smiled at that. “This should be close enough.” You said as you looked around, the place looked similar to the image Spencer had shown the team.

“Please tell me you know how to put a tent up.” You said, watching as his face twisted.

“I know the theory?” The way his response sounded like a question made you smile as you pulled poles and material out of a bag. The two of you staring down at the mess with matching expressions of confusion.

“Now would be a really good time for the unsub to attack.” He muttered, causing you to laugh loudly. Spencer couldn’t help but grin over at you, your cheeks flushing as you caught the expression.

It took longer than either you or Spencer were willing to admit to put the tent up, despite the fact that it wouldn’t get used, you had to make it look like the pair of you were really camping. There was a lot of grumbling, many curse words and a cut or two.

There was also a lot of laughter coming from the comms in your ears causing both you and Spencer to roll your eyes.

Once the tent was up, Spencer lay a blanket down outside of it and sat down, gesturing for you to do the same. Miraculously the two of you got a fire started and as the sun set and the night time air chilled you were thankful for it.

“I don’t camp but I guess I can see the appeal.” Spencer told you as he titled his head back to look up at the stars. You glanced up too, the sky wasn’t totally black yet, more of an inky blue colour and you could see every star on the cloudless night.

It was beautiful and yet you still found your gaze falling back on Spencer.

“Yeah, me too.” You replied softly, your voice quiet so as not to break the peacefulness around you.

Somehow the two of you ended up laying down and looking up at the sky, you had a smile on your face that refused to move as Spencer’s hushed voice told you facts about stars.

“I’m glad you’re on the team.” Spencer whispered after a long pause of silence. It took you a moment to register his words before you turned your head, coming face to face with the man.

“Me too.” You whispered back, meaning the words with your entire being.

Just as Spencer went to say something you heard a rustle in the bushes and locked eyes with Spencer who nodded.

The two of you waited, not waiting to disrupt the operation if it just turned out to be an animal, but as you pushed yourself up on your elbow and discreetly looked around you saw a faint outline of a man. He was hidden behind a tree but he was watching the two of you.

“The hike up here was exactly what we needed.” You told Spencer and through the comms you heard the team moving out.

“You’re right.” He played along, smiling up at you from his reclined position.

Before you knew what was happening Spencer had his gun out and the unsub grabbed you, placing you in front of him as a human shield. If someone asked you, you would never have been able to recall the events that led to you having a knife held to your neck.

You saw the panicked look in Spencer’s eyes but you couldn’t hear his thoughts, they were overwhelming. Thoughts of Maeve passed through his mind as he pleaded with anyone who would listen to let you be ok, he couldn’t lose you too. Hell, he’d only known you a few days and yet he knew you were special, he knew he had to have you in his life. If you died now…

“Just let her go.” Spencer said, keeping his gun trained on the man.

“I let her go, you ship me off to death row.” The man responded, his face close to your face, too close. The smell of his breath had you grimacing.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Spencer responded, not even thinking. He just needed to get you away.

“Spenc, what you doing kid?” He heard Morgan through his ear piece but he just shook his head before shooting you a reassuring smile, trying not to focus on the tears in your eyes or the blood on your neck.

“I’m listenin’.” The unsub replied after a moment of silence, gesturing for Spencer to continue.

“Let her go,” He said, lowering his gun, “I won’t arrest you. You can get a head start before anyone else gets here. Just let her go.” Spencer pleaded.

It was a tense few seconds in which Spencer never took his eyes off you, he hated to see that scared look in your eyes, the fear in them made Spencer ache.

“Let her go.” Spencer said once more and he let out a sigh of relief as you were pushed into his arms.

Just as the unsub ran to leave, you twisted around in Spencer’s arms and drew your own gun, shooting the unsub in the leg. The rest of the team ran in just as the man fell to the ground.

Spencer turned you around so that you were facing him, his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you ok?” He asked, Morgan and Hotch walking over whilst Rossi and JJ dealt with the man.

You didn’t respond with words, instead you wrapped your arms around Spencer. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his own around you, holding you close as you let the tears slid down your face.

You pulled away abruptly, rubbing your eyes as you did.

“Sorry, you don’t like to be touched and here I am-“ You said but Spencer just cut you off.

“It’s fine, really.” He assured you before his attention turned to your neck. The knife hadn’t pierced the skin too badly, there was a small bit of blood where the knife had nicked you when the unsub pressed a bit too hard.

“Are you ok?” He asked again, fingers on your jaw so that he could tilt your face and get a better look.

“Spencer, I’m fine.” You assured him but that didn’t stop him from getting you medical attention the moment you were back in the town.

Spencer watched as you squirmed away from the nurse seeing to you with a soft smile.

There was something about you that made him feel so free, like he could be himself and the thought of losing you…he didn’t want to think about it again.

“You like her.” Derek said as he came to stand next to the younger man.

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve known her for a few days.” Spencer shot back but he knew his friend was right.

“If she’s the right girl, a few days is all you need.” Was Derek’s reply before he walked away, leaving Spencer looking at you with a thoughtful look on his face.

-

The plane ride home was uneventful.

You took the seat next to Spencer again and watched him pull a book out. You couldn’t help but glance down at it, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion as you didn’t recognise the language.

“It’s Russian.” He told you quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone as they settled in for a long flight.

“You read Russian?” You asked just as quietly, watching as he smiled bashfully and shrugged before nodding. You glanced down at the pages again before letting out a small yawn. “Can you read to me?” You asked him, smiling as he nodded again.

“Of course,” He said and with that it wasn’t long before you fell asleep to the soothing sound of Spencer Reid.

-

“Ask her, man.” Morgan said as both he and Spencer watched you leave the office after finishing your paperwork. Spencer too was done and Morgan assured him he’d make sure Hotch received it.

There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Spencer snatched his satchel up and ran to the elevators, getting there just before they shut on you.

“Hey.” He greeted as he stepped in.

“Hi.” You smiled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“I was wondering, I mean if you wanted to, of course you don’t have to, I was only suggesting but I’d really like it if you would,” Spencer rambled before cutting himself out with a groaning causing you to giggle.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, cheeks flushing as you asked.

“I’m trying to,” he told you, “but I’m not very good at this.”

“Just ask.” You told him softly.

“Would you like to go out with me?” He asked after taking a deep and calming breath.

“I’d love to.” You grinned, thankful that the man had made a move. You wouldn’t have risked asking him on the chance that you were reading him wrong and he didn’t like you but thankfully he had taken it into his own hands.

“Good. Great. That, that’s great.” He repeated, a soft grin spreading across his face causing you to giggle as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out together and there was a moment of awkward silence before Spencer dipped his head down to kiss your cheek, making your blush even more prominent.

You looked so pretty when you blushed, Spencer thought.

“I’ll call you.” He promised.

“I hope so.” You replied before heading towards your car, when you turned around you saw Spencer still stood by the doors with a smile still on his face. You giggled to yourself but couldn’t stop smiling yourself if you tried.

Spencer Reid was something else and you couldn’t wait to learn everything about that wonderful man.

[reid-fiction]

A Progression of Touch

In which Spencer doesn’t like to touch people until you come along and then he can’t help himself

A/N: Look at me, dropping stories like flies. Also, I’ve been staring at this gif for far too long...

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He doesn’t like to touch other people.

He knows it, you know it, the whole F.B.I. knows it. He told you as much the first time he met you by the way he awkwardly refused to shake your hand. Though he compensated with a friendly smile and a wave, you knew you were in for a ride with Dr. Spencer Reid. 

It wasn’t that he thought you were diseased. He just knew too much about germs and the human body to risk it, especially around cold and flu season which was exactly when he met you. It was bad enough that Garcia had dragged him to the Christmas party to begin with - there were so many people in close quarters, who knew what viruses were floating around - but he wasn’t a big fan of mingling and small talk either. And that was exactly what Penelope was forcing him into when he got his first glimpse of you. 

As soon as you had five minutes with Spencer under your belt, you knew you wanted a lot more time with him. He was unlike any person you had ever met and he fascinated you, especially his aversion to touch. 

A few months later, when Spencer finally bit the bullet and asked you on a date (after much prompting and borderline bribery from Garcia and multiple other team members she had coerced into helping her), he knew that his no touching rule was not going to fly for very long. He didn’t know much about relationships, but he did know that physical touch was a pretty important factor to most women. Though you never pushed him, he could tell that you were holding back for his benefit. He could see it in your eyes every time he dropped you off after a date. In most scenarios, a kiss goodnight would be expected - you wanted it, he could sense it - but it felt like you were the wrong side of a magnet that he just couldn’t get himself close to.

This was a problem, because he was falling for you and he was going to have to do something about it. 

Spencer knew that going the 0-100 method wasn’t going to work for him. He couldn’t just jump from not touching you at all to getting hot and heavy in the backseat of a car. But, gradual steps may work. If he eased himself in to getting acquainted with touching you, he could both push himself out of his comfort zone and give you a bit of the physical contact that you were clearly craving. 

-----

It started with a hug. 

One night, after walking you to your front door, you could tell that Spencer was concentrating on something and it wasn’t your current conversation. You were rambling on about some TV program you had seen the other night, and you knew he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. 

“Hey, you okay?”

He glanced up at you, frowning, as if he had just remembered you were standing there.

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself after catching a gust of chilly air. “You just seem...far away. Distracted.”

He paused, pursing his lips at your accusation, and you suddenly felt extremely vulnerable under his gaze.

“Is something wrong? Did I...did I do something? I mean, are you -”

“No!” 

The suddenness of his reply caused you to jump, and he let out a nervous chuckle before running a hand through his hair. 

“No, it’s not you at all. I’m sorry, you’re right. I am distracted.”

“Well...about what? Maybe I can help.”

He paused again, and then smiled. “Yeah, maybe you can. Would you be able to just...stand still for a second?”

The strange nature of his request caused you to frown a bit, but you simply nodded and watched him with curiosity. A few seconds later, he slowly started to to move a few steps closer and raise his arms slightly. You had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but you didn’t move a muscle. His arms eventually found their way to rest lightly on the sides of you waist and then started to wrap around your torso. 

Your stomach instantly flipped. This was the first time Spencer had ever touched you beyond the occasional brush of your shoulders when you moved past him, or a playful kick to his leg when he beat you at chess. It had been two months of weekly dates, dinners, museum trips and evenings of sitting and talking until you were both too tired to form coherent sentences but, as much as you loved those times with him, you’d by lying if you said you never wished that he would throw caution to the wind once in a while and toss an arm around you or caress the side of your face with his fingers. 

Now, just the feeling of his hands on your back was like opening up a can of worms that had been wriggling in desperation for weeks, and you certainly hoped that this wasn’t a one time thing, because there was no way you’d ever be able to put those worms back in the can after this. 

He took another step toward you and circled his arms tighter around your back. You knew he had asked you not to move, but you couldn’t hold back any longer. You slowly raised your own arms until they were resting on his shoulders and then, when he didn’t protest, you wrapped them around his neck and leaned in until your head was nestled just below his collarbone. He tensed up only a moment before you felt him lean his head in the crook of your neck. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, holding each other. It could have been a few minutes, it could have been a few hours. You didn’t care, all that you knew was that you never wanted him to let go. 

-----

After the hug, his next target were your hands. 

Although Spencer was keenly aware of just how many germs the human hand picked up throughout the day, he was determined to overcome his aversion. You were clean and had good hygiene habits, he knew that. He had been hugging you every time he saw you since that first night, how much more difficult could holding your hand be?

It was during a movie he wasn’t really paying attention to that he finally made his move. Lately, his go-to move during movies was to carefully put his arm around you and rest his hand on your shoulder. He was completely comfortable with that movement now and really thought nothing of it anymore. He could tell that you enjoyed it as well, so he was more than happy to oblige you and suggest a movie night as often as possible. 

Tonight, however, he had different ideas. He purposely kept his arm at his side for the first half of the film, and he knew that you noticed. Truthfully, you had come to expect the motion now and were slightly disappointed when it didn’t happen as soon as the opening credits started to roll, but it wasn’t long until you figured out why.

You thought it was an accident at first. You had both of your hands resting in your lap and had your eyes focused on the movie when you felt it. The lightest, softest brush of skin against your own. Your hand twitched involuntarily and you silently cursed yourself for probably scaring him away. But, a minute or so later, it happened again. Still soft, still tentative, but it lingered. 

You stealthily flicked your gaze down to your lap and saw Spencer’s hand hovering just slightly over your own. You weren’t entirely sure what he was aiming for, but you kept your hand deathly still while you waited. His hand finally came to rest on your thigh and the side of his palm rested lightly against your own. You watched as his pinkie brushed up over the back of your hand, then another finger, and another, and another, until his whole hand was on top of yours. You opened the spaces between your fingers in hopes that he would lace his own through, and you weren’t disappointed. His fingers slid between yours like butter and you felt him squeeze your palm and slowly caress the back of your hand with his thumb. 

It was your idea to shuffle closer to him, lift his arm with your hands still intertwined, and loop it over your shoulder. He glanced over to you, smiled, and squeezed your hand again.

You wished you had picked a longer movie. Truthfully, so did he. 

-----

The idea of kissing you was terrifying. 

Spencer had kissed and been kissed before, but it wasn’t a common occurrence and it hadn’t ever been with someone he truly cared about. It was one thing for two body parts to come together in what science called a kiss, it was a whole other thing for that kiss to mean something. The last thing Spencer wanted was for him to screw up a potentially important moment in your relationship because he was hesitant or overly paranoid. 

He also had no idea how to know when the “right” moment was, if there was such a thing. Hugging was easy now, holding your hand was routine - he could do those at really any time, in any location, in any circumstance, and it wouldn’t be considered awkward or weird - but kissing was different. It was intimate, it was private, and it required more thought. 

It had taken him weeks, but he finally had a plan in mind. It was elaborate and detailed - as most of Spencer’s ideas were - and he knew exactly what he was going to say and do leading up to the moment.

However, what he wasn’t betting on was the sudden, overwhelming, spontaneous desire that came over him one evening while you were sitting in his apartment. You hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary; you had gone out to dinner, walked back to his place, and had plans to spend the rest of the night talking, maybe doing a puzzle or playing a game, and then you would go home like you always did. 

But it was something about the way you laughed after he told you a funny story that happened at work that day. It was the way your eyes locked on his every time he spoke, and the way you looked so intensely interested in every single thing he was saying, even if you didn’t understand all of it. It was the way you leaned into him when he pointed out something in a book he was holding, and the way he could smell your shampoo - vanilla with a hint of lavender - when you got close to him. It was the way your hand rested lovingly on his back while he read a passage to you and the way you absentmindedly twirled your hair as you listened. 

He needed to kiss you, and he needed to do it immediately. 

He didn’t care that it didn’t fit into his plan, he didn’t care that it wasn’t exactly what he pictured, and he didn’t care that he hadn’t prepared himself for it. The only thing he could think of was the shape of your lips and his intense need to know what they felt like on his own. 

So, he went for it.

It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t subtle, and it was probably the messiest thing he had ever done. He put the book down on the table, looked over at you, grabbed the sides of your face and pulled you to him. You were initially frozen in shock - the last thing you had expected that night was for Spencer to kiss you, let alone like this - but you could feel the intensity and desperation as his lips moved over yours, and that was enough to thaw your surprise and trigger your response instinct. You put one hand behind his head and pulled him impossibly closer to you, scooting to the very edge of your seat. 

His hands dropped from your face and landed on the tops of your thighs before he slid them up to your waist and you could feel him start to tug you closer. There was nowhere for you to go other than practically on top of him, and you knew there was no way he wanted you to do that. 

Was there?

As much as it pained you to do so, you momentarily broke the kiss to catch your breath. 

“Wow.”

Spencer chuckled, still gripping your waist. 

“Sorry,” he said, “I guess I just...couldn’t wait anymore.”

“Oh, don’t apologize!” you said, a little too enthusiastically. “It was great, and I wouldn’t have stopped you, it’s just...”

Spencer studied you, and brought one hand up to the side of your face again.

“Just, what?”

“It’s nothing, I guess I just wondered - I mean, I wasn’t sure how far you wanted to...you know...go. I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Spencer smiled, and you felt him tug you closer again. You gave him a questioning look, and he nodded.

“C’mere,” he said. “It’s okay.”

You tentatively stood and took a step closer to him before he gently guided you down until you were straddling his lap. You exhaled a breath of nerves as you seated yourself and brought your hands up to rest on his shoulders.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said. “I’m not going to push things any further tonight. But, right now, I would really like to keep kissing you. It’ll help me get comfortable with it. Repetition of an action you’re uncomfortable with is proven to retrain your mind in how you view the action.”

You grinned. “Is that the only reason you’d like to keep kissing me? To prove a scientific fact?”

“It’s more like a psychological fact. You see, in moments of intense satisfaction or pleasure, the brain releases something called dopamine which causes -”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish before you leaned in and kissed him again. 

The psychological facts could wait.

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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation. 

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right. 

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

[thefanficmonster]

Infatuation

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: It’s not a secret that Corpse prefers taking care of his hair himself rather than going to a hair salon to get it trimmed and/or tampered. However, he only has so much knowledge of how to properly do it without having to obliterate his budget. Luckily, his girlfriend comes to his rescue.

Requested by Anon. Hi lovely! Thank you so much for the incredibly fluffy request! I’ve been very pumped to write it and now here it finally is - so sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but I still hope you come across it and give it a read! Love, Vy ❤

“Um, what are you doing?“

I just walked into Corpse’s apartment to find him barricaded in the bathroom, giving himself a hair appointment. We were supposed to have a chill night in watching movies, but it seems to me like those plans will either have to be delayed or canceled, given the chaotic state both Corpse and his bathroom are in. I mean, how dumb was I to expect he was actually doing his hair justice when he told me he styled it himself? Why didn’t that immediately raise an army of red flags in my head and lead me to question his methods?

I’m honestly quite jealous of Corpse’s hair. It’s always so soft and silky and no matter how much or how little effort he’s put in it, it always looks good: either evidently carefully styled or boyishly messy, it leaves me with heart-eyes regardless. But to see him massacre it like this, it makes me wish I could report it as a crime.

“Ain’t obvious?“ He sounds rather frustrated and I feel at least slightly better due to this fact. He deserves to be as frustrated as I am by the sight of the crap he’s doing. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to wait for me for...a little while. I just need to get this under control and, um, clean the mess. Sorry for ruining your night like this, babe. I-I really wasn’t planning on it to take this long but I forgot to buy one of the products and I thought I could wing it without it but...I very clearly can’t so...“

“Please, stop talking. I don’t need to know what sins you’ve committed - if I do I’ll probably have to give you the silent treatment for like a week or so.“ I call out to him as I quickly skip over to the kitchen to leave the food I bought on my way over before returning to the bathroom and carefully taking a step inside, mindful of where there are hair strands on the tiles. Even severed, his hair is beautiful and I have a ton of respect for it - ok fine, I adore it. Corpse definitely doesn’t appreciate it properly. I walk over to the shower, reaching out to the two shelves inside which are lined with different types of hair products. “Oh fuck...“ I let out the whisper without even realizing it because I’m so stunned by the brands I see on those shelves. “Corpse, um, what the actual fuck?”

He turns to me, eyes wide and terrified because of my menacing tone. “What? What is it?” His gaze searches the spot where mine was just pointed at, looking for anything that could’ve provoked such a reaction from me. Seeing nothing but the hair products, he meets my deadly glare yet again, “What’s wrong?”

Alright, this man-child needs some serious help

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong.“ I say, stomping towards the exit of the bathroom, “You’re gonna stay here and wait for me to come back and don’t you DARE, even touch your hair, let alone bring a pair of scissors or any chemical near it. Copy?“

“Copied and pasted, ma’am.“ He salutes me, knowing better than to ask questions when I enter my commander role. There are quite a few things that set me off into this bossy-ass persona, and hair mistreatment is most definitely one of them. Thing is, Corpse doesn’t know that. Well, he didn’t know that, pretty sure he’s guessed it by now.

Feeling myself soften at his obedience and trust, I give him a smile and a wink over my shoulder as I go to grab my bag and leave the apartment to complete my mission, “Good boy.”

                                                              *  *  *

“Isn’t that a lot better?“ I ask, gently running my fingers through Corpse’s freshly cut, washed and dried hair. I’ve spent a good five minutes just smoothing through it with my fingers. I bet he’s expecting me to say ‘my precious‘ at any moment now, and trust me it’s tempting, but I still don’t, I won’t give him the pleasure of predicting my actions. Wow, we’ve really reached that level of being familiar with one another that I predict that he’s predicting what I’m gonna do next. While I’m a guessing game for him, I tend to think of myself as more of an open book. You just gotta be fluent in the language it’s written in to understand it.

I’ve gone off-topic, my bad.

“Yeah, you’re a lot less scary now.“ He tells me, his hand finding mine in his hair and taking it to his lips to place a kiss on my knuckles.

We’re positioned so that we’re in front of the bathroom mirror with Corpse seated in a chair in front of me and I’m for once in my life towering over him from behind. Our height difference was threatening to be a hinderance in my work on his hair, but we easily figured it out.

I can’t help but laugh, “You know what I meant.“ I curl one of his already curly strands around the pointer finger of the hand that’s still wandering around the soft dark curls while the other remains in his gentle hold, resting on his shoulder.

“And you know what I meant.“ He shifts in his seat to look at me directly, not via the mirror, “Since when do you have a hair infatuation?“

I roll my eyes and retract my hands, defensively folding my arms over my chest, “It’s not an infatuation with hair, dummy. It’s an infatuation with your hair.” I correct him, doing quick work of styling the stray strands that fall over his forehead and eyes. “I really like your hair, you already know that. I can’t handle the thought you’re doing such a shitty job taking care of it.”

He shrugs, furrowing his brows, “Hey, I was buying top-shelf products, cost me a fortune every month, my hair was being treated like royalty.”

I roll my eyes once again, “High price doesn’t always equal high quality, Corpse. Did you ever stop to read what was in those products?” I don’t let him answer, I don’t need him to confirm what I already know. “Even if you did - which you didn’t - you wouldn’t know what each of those ingredients do to your hair. You see, taking care of hair, especially hair like yours, takes patience and knowledge. It’s practically an art form. It’s not like you can just buy any product that has ‘suitable for curly hair’ on it. There’s a lot more to that.”

It’s only after I finish my monologue that I realize he’s looking at me with amazed amusement in his gaze, almost like a parent listening to their kid talk about their wish of becoming an astronaut. “Since when do you know so much about hair? You’ve been using the same shampoo and conditioner since I know you and now you wanna lecture me on hair care?”

I raise an eyebrow at him, exasperated by his stubbornness on the matter, “Who said being consistent with your hair products is a bad thing? You know, frequent changing of brands has the potential of being damaging as much as aiding.” I explain with the most amount of patience I can muster, now taking over the parent role myself, “And as for your previous question, I know so much because my mother is a hairdresser.”

His eyes widen in surprise. I can practically see the gears in his brain turning as he tries to recall if I’ve ever told him this before.

“How come I don’t know that?“ He asks finally after a long moment of silence. “Why haven’t you told me?”

“You ask that as though I just tell you things like that on the regular. Did you also want me to drop the info that my dad’s a mechanic in passing conversation about video games? Cause that’s a little hard to shoehorn in....“ He cuts off my sarcastic rambling with a brief peck to the lips. He’s the only person allowed to shut me up, and only like that. Anything else will earn him either an earful or a silent treatment. 

Just kidding....unless...

“So, does that mean you’re continuing the family business?“ he asks when he pulls away, “I mean, you’re technically my personal hairdresser now.“

I furrow my brows playfully, “Wait, what? Since when?”

“Since I hired you approximately an hour ago.“ He beams up at me, satisfied that I’ve fallen in his trap.

“And what about my payment?“ I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

He looks to be contemplating for a second before he stands up from the chair, taking my hand in his leading me out of the bathroom, “Well, each appointment you’ll give me a different price, Miss Y/L/N. But, considering today was your first day, I choose to pay you with dinner.“ He sends a wink my way, laughing when he’s met with an unamused expression on my part as I stop in my tracks, causing him to halt his movements as well.

“You really plan on paying me with the dinner I bought?“ I raise an eyebrow at him, freeing my hand from his so I can put both my hands on my hips for the complete 'I’m far from impressed’ look.

“Yeah...? Problem?“ He asks, faking nervousness and guilt as he closes the distance between us, once again returning to the default of towering over me instead of it being the other way around.

“Several actually. First of all...“ I raise my finger in the air accusingly, ready to go off but the arm that wraps around my waist and lifts me off the ground causes my words to die down, evaporating in a frightened squeal, “Corpse no!! Put me down!“

Of course, he ignores me, carrying me into the living room while I don’t know whether to thrash or stay as still as possible. 

Tsk, so much for gratitude

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[gucciwins]

The First Kiss

Harry and Y/N go on their first date...will they finally become something more?

Word count: 4814

A/N: I know how much you all love breakout room and the follow up it's your birthday. I love writing them and it's been a while but do know they are doing well. this is nothing but sweet fluff. I do mention the vaccine and wearing masks which I hope you all are doing. it's important to stay safe and truly wish nothing but the best for you all. I love you xxx

please reblog and let me know your thoughts

_____

“Are you feeling good? I sent over a goodie basket.”

Harry giggled, loving how concerned you were. “I’m doing good, baby.” He sees you tuck your head into your sweater smiling, when he notices it’s the one he sent you in a goodie basket after you got your second shot of the vaccine.

It’s spring break, and Harry can finally say he is officially vaccinated after letting the mandated two weeks pass. It’s perfect timing, honestly, as he has been itching to finally see you in person again.

Your university let you know that they would begin to have vaccine dates open to students through an email that you quickly forwarded to Harry. You had to register to get a date for your first vaccine, and slots were filling up fast. You shot Harry multiple texts telling him what day you got and time, but you went without an answer for an hour which is weird, seeing as Harry never liked to leave you waiting more than five minutes.

By the time he got back to you, he had to wait two weeks, unlike you, who would be getting in only three days. You asked why he didn’t answer, and he said he was in class. You frowned because even then, he always answered. He then confessed he lost his phone in his apartment and didn’t have time to search for it.

You laughed about it, but he was disappointed because he wanted to see you. To give you a hug. To hold your hand.

After spending his birthday together, you both decided against meeting in person for safety even though you both wanted to, more than anything. You postponed your date to the future. Instead, you completed the group assignment through zoom meetings that led to facetime calls. After submitting the project and learning that you aced the assignment, well, you both caved in.

Harry gushed on how he always got B’s on the professor’s assignments, and to celebrate, he sent you a dozen cupcakes from the bakery that you never stop raving about located only three blocks from where you live. Then proceeded to call him over to celebrate and who was he to say no. Harry was shocked at how rich and full of flavor they were because he wasn’t aware it was vegan. Yet, it tasted better than anything he ever had. Harry realized why it was your favorite, promising to take you there in person to have your pick of favorites and not only red velvet and carrot cake because they were safe choices.

You couldn’t say you’ve been on a proper date with Harry, but you’d like to count all the zoom calls and facetime calls as dates not that you let Harry know it would only inflate his ego. You’d start a call to ask a question on assignments, and it would lead to sharing stories back and forth of what their favorite book was to where they would visit if they could go that very second. You loved how insightful he was, also liked how he used pastel highlighters to mark his annotations. Harry was a fan of how you always had a pencil in your hair or behind your ear. How you always had a snack on hand because you didn’t want to listen to professors without something to eat or you’d lose focus.

You were glad you’d be able to get together safely but also taking all the needed precautions. Safety is hot, as Harry liked to say all the time when you sent him photos of you wearing your masks.

“Yeah, like the basket?”

Harry grins, but it’s not as bright due to the lacking pixels of your laptop. He holds it up, having placed it in his lap. “I did love the bath bombs.”

You smile back at him, “Going to change your life. Self-care is important, bub. Even in the smallest ways as a bath.”

Harry nods, “I know, baby. The reason I remember to take deep breaths each morning, no longer eager to reach for my phone.”

“Proud of you.”

“And I of you, baby.”

Harry shines his dimples at you when you turn your head away at the sweet name he started calling you a few weeks ago. You adored it, honestly, but it always left you feeling flustered.

“H, please.”

“Baby, I like seeing you flustered.”

“You’re a menace.”

He shrugs, still giggling.

“How are Mitch and Sarah?”

“Wonderful, sickly in love as always. Spend their time at Sarah’s like composing together.”

“That’s sweet.” You lean in, smiling at him, “you know we should all hang out together. I get to meet Mitch properly and see Sarah again, and you’ll get to meet Amy.” You grow excited at the thought.

“Not before I get to see you.”

“H, we got to coordinate a day that works for all of us. No need to get jealous.”

“Not jealous.”

“Sure,” you reply sarcastically.

“Got to learn to share me with Amy. I cook her lunch and dinner; otherwise, she’d be nothing but a walking cadaver.”

“I want you to make me lunch and dinner,” he pouts.

“I can now that you’ve vaxxed.”

“That I am, so you are.”

“Yes,” you’re waiting for him to go on.

“Will you go on a date with me? Think we waited long enough, and if my feelings weren’t obvious enough, I like you and really want to take you out.” he rambles on.

You interrupt him knowing fully well he could go on for days, “I’d love to, Harry.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Great. Friday then.”

“I’m free.”

“I know, know your schedule by heart.”

“Creep,” you gasp at the news.

“Shush, like you don’t have my classes added to your planner.” Your turn to pout.

“I like knowing your schedule, and they overlap.”

“I do too. Look forward to your messages every day between classes.”

“So Friday? What are you planning?”

“A picnic.”

You jump up in excitement, causing your laptop to fall back on your bed before you dive to save it. Harry yelling dramatically in the background as if you just dropped him.

“H, be quiet. You’re fine.”

“Dropped me, darling.”

“Dork.”

He mutters something in return, but you can’t hear him.

“So I’ll prepare lunch because you’ve told me once or twice that you’re hopeless in the kitchen.” Harry doesn’t even try to fight you because it’s true. “You’ll take care of drinks and desserts.”

“Seems like you’re planning the date,” he teases.

“I like picnics.”

“Well, I like you, so I’ll let you take over.”

Your smile turns soft, reaching your hand out as if you could reach in and caress him. “I like you, too. I can’t wait to give you a hug.”

“Counting down the hours.”

“Alright, you have class in ten, and you always struggle to log in.”

“Making me hang up. Not fair.” Harry frowns, debating skipping class for you.

“Don’t think about it, Styles.”

“Fine. Take care, baby.”

“Bye, H.”

A date.

You have a date with Harry.

Finally, it happened.

_____

You were nervous.

Why were you nervous? It was just Harry.

Harry, who wanted to date you from your first meeting, who emailed you asking you out, and who has not stopped talking to you since February. Constantly reminding you of his feelings for you. You hope he knew you felt the same, in texts and sending him little gifts even as small as writing him a letter.

You got up early today to prepare lunch. You decided on sandwiches, a non-messy meal, and Harry always said he wanted to try the bakery bread you use and not the basic store-bought. It was a bit pricey but not as much anymore because you had become a regular, meaning the sweet owner began giving you a discount, especially when finding out you're a student. Still, you always remember to leave a good tip. The turkey sandwiches were finished with cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. Looked so good that Amy had one as you were making them. You made three and packed them up in your glass reusable containers.

Staring at the sandwiches, it felt like too little food when Harry had told you many times how much he enjoys eating, so you cleaned up and got to make a second meal. You decided on vegetable rice paper rolls. A favorite and easy meal to make that you enjoyed eating. It was packed with lettuce, avocado, cabbage, bell peppers, cucumbers, noodles, and fresh herbs. This was a meal your dad made you all the time as a child with the special slightly spicy peanut sauce that you could drizzle on top.

Harry was going to enjoy this, so you hoped. He promised to make strawberry lemonade. Assured you that it would not be store-bought, and you believed him. During one of your late conversations, he shared how his sister would make him some when she returned from uni. Reminds him of home, he would say.

After packing everything away in the fridge to keep it cool it was time to get ready. You stood in front of your closet for a good five minutes before you began to swipe through the hangers. You knew you wanted to wear a dress; it was warm weather and would only get hotter as the day went on.

You searched your entire closet, there were three options once you had decided on, but you called Amy in to make the final decison for you. She decided on the one sitting in the middle of your bed, which was exactly what you were thinking.

The dress was a white button-front high slit that fit you nicely. You hadn't used it in quite some time, seeing as when you left your apartment, it would be in leggings, sweats, and the first sweater you could slip on.

You couldn't stop looking in the mirror, loving how it flowed around you when you twirled. For accessories, you slipped on a gold ring that had a little heart on it and another that was a gift shaped like a small snake as it was going to scale down your finger. A simple heart locket gifted to you by your grandparents hung right above your cleavage. You decided to leave your hair natural, liking how it air-dried after the shower you had that morning.

There was no makeup on your face, just your favorite rosebud salve lip balm that left your lips soft. Amy insisted you put some on, but you stood firm in your decision, knowing you'd be wearing a mask and didn't want anything smudging.

You looked down at the time on your phone and knew it was time to head down, Harry said twelve, and you didn't want to make him come up to your apartment only to walk down the three levels again. You grabbed the picnic basket that was sitting in the back of yours and Amy's shared doorway closet and made sure to place everything neatly, leaving room for Harry's drink and stashing a bunch of napkins in for any accidents. Basket prepared, you slipped your sunglasses in your hair, placing your lavender tote bag with tiny embroidered daisies on your shoulder that contained sunscreen, your wallet, extra face masks, and a book Harry had told he had wanted to read.

Before opening your door, you put on the white mask that you embroidered sunflowers on. It was one of your favorites, and glad it complimented your look well. You walked down the stairs slowly, not wanting to drop the basket.

You walk out the front door and find Harry getting out of the yellow mask on his face. As you get closer, you can see it's the one you made him. It has bees on it, and embroidered on the left side is 'my honey.' Harry had turned quite pink when he opened the gift he got in the mail over facetime with her. You happily screenshot his reaction, happy to have it to look back on.

As soon as you reach him, it's as if all the nerves you had disappeared. Calm washes over you as he comes to stand in front of you. You can't see the smile he has, but the crinkles by his eyes prove he's just as happy to see you.

"Hi, Harry," you say, your eyes taking him all in.

Harry doesn't hide, he's checking you out, and you're thankful for the mask at the moment, able to hide how bashful you're feeling. "Hello, baby. You look gorgeous. I'm a lucky man."

"Yeah," you swayed side to side, "gave me a reason to dress up."

"Always beautiful, but I'm so glad to see more than just your shoulders." He laughs, and you join him.

"Look pretty, H. I had not seen this cardigan." You reach out, running a finger down over the pastel yellow cardigan that looks to be well-loved. He paired it with a plain white shirt that fits him loosely with Gucci denim trousers that he told you he found a few years ago when he was thrift shopping in London with his mother.

"No, brought it out just for you. Wanted it to match my favorite mask." Although he couldn't see it, you hoped your eyes were doing their job expressing your joy. "Let's put this basket in the trunk. Got a blanket and a few pillows as well as the lemonade."

"And the dessert?"

He chuckles, "and the dessert."

You place everything in the trunk, taking a step back for Harry to close it. He walks you over to your door, opening it for you, you offer a soft thank you, but before you get in, you turn to look at him.

"What is it, baby?"

You stare down at your ribbon-tied wedges before looking up into his piercing green eyes. "Can I have a hug? I just--I'm really happy to see you."

Harry falters for a second before answering, "of course, come here." He's quick to bring you in for a hug, and it feels like home. It's comfortable, and you can't believe you haven't hugged him since February, a good two months ago, when it has honestly felt like a lifetime. "I would have earlier, but when you came out, you truly shocked me with how amazing you looked."

You just hug him tighter, enjoying feeling his strong arms around you. He looks at you smiling. "That was nice." You nod because it was, and if he'd let you, you'd stay in his arms all day.

"Well, shall we go?"

"We shall."

And with that, you were off to your first date with Harry, which would hopefully lead to more.

_____

The drive to the park was short; you unloaded everything from the car once you got there. Harry offers to carry the basket, letting you lead to picking the spot. You walked ahead, glad he brought you to a park you recognized; it's one you liked to walk around during finals week when you were drowning in essays and exams. This was a nice break. On the other side of the park is a lake where you can rent pedal boats, but you were sure they hadn't opened up for business just yet, wanting more of the population to be vaccinated.

You led him to a secluded area laughing when he joked if you were leading him to his murder. Once you reached the clearing, one large tree with lots of shade and a few rose bushes surrounded it.

"It's beautiful here." Harry awed in amazement.

"Yeah, I found it my first year when I was trying to destress; I don't think many people know about it because it's not on the maps."

"Lucky us."

Harry grabs one end of the blanket, helping you spread it on the grass. You set your tote bag on one corner as well as setting down the pillows. As you make your way to sit down, Harry gently grabs your elbow, causing you to turn and look at him; he's holding a bouquet of tulips.

You felt your eyes well up with tears, not used to such a kind gesture; it's been a long time since you've been on a date with someone you really care about, "You got me tulips, H."

You reach forward and cradle them in your arms. "Course I did; I think you deserve all the beautiful things life has to offer."

You set the flowers on top of the basket before straightening up and pulling Harry into a hug. Your arms around his neck, his resting tightly around your waist, "including you," you whisper in his ear, causing him to squeeze you a bit tighter. Harry pulls back, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Let's eat, baby. Know you made something delicious for us to enjoy."

Harry set the food out, and you are sure to hand him the wet wipes to clean your hand before you could begin wanting to be clean and not wanting to venture out to find a restroom. He eyed the sandwiches first, then the veggie rice paper rolls.

"Couldn't decide?"

"Wasn't sure what you'd like. So I gave you two options."

"Too sweet angel." Harry leans in to kiss her cheek.

"Think we ought to take off the mask now." You giggle, sad you didn't get to feel his lips on your cheek.

"Yeah, so comfortable it doesn't really bother me wearing them. I am hungry."

You place your mask in your bag, and Harry puts his mask in his pocket. He opens up both containers and digs into the veggie rolls first. He hums after the first bite, chewing happily. "Delicious," he mutters between chews.

"Can add this peanut sauce to give it more flavor, just a tad bit spicy." He watches you as you pick up and spoon drizzle a bit on top, taking a bite. Harry follows your steps taking another bite, and his eyes go wide at the added flavor.

"Shocked, I've lived all my life without this food."

You laugh, "well, now you don't have to."

He chews happily at your response.

_____

Lunch is filled with little conversation, both praising each other for a well-planned meal. The strawberry lemonade complimenting the food perfectly. He brought a raspberry lemon loaf cake for dessert, and you happily admit you ate two pieces. It tasted so heavily, making Harry promise you to buy more in the future for you. He agreed, stating he'd do anything to make you happy.

"It's nice going out with someone, enjoying the sweet fresh air." Harry comments.

You hum in agreement, "I adore my alone time, but with the right company, it can feel just as perfect."

Harry's cheek turns rosy pink quickly, not at all trying to hide from you. You love that he loves to show how much you affect him.

"It feels normal like we've done this hundred of times already.”

You chuckle, nudging his shoulder. "It's cause we have. Just never called any of them dates."

"So you agree, we've been dating since February," he teases.

"Yeah, I think we can say that."

"When was our first zoom call?"

"Hmm...after class a week after your birthday. Think we worked for an hour and talked about nothing for another."

You look over at Harry loving how the sun reflects off his skin; it makes him look like a gift from the Gods. Harry feels your gaze on him, flashing you a big grin, his dimples on display just for you, because of you.

"We will call February eighth our anniversary," he declares.

You laugh, not a silent one but a full-out belly gripping laugh; you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Harry sits there confused, not sure where the joke was.

"You alright, baby?" He asks, just a bit concerned.

"That is what you were thinking so hard about; you couldn't figure out a week from your birthday quickly. Took you a good few minutes." You shake your head, trying to catch your breath, tiny giggles still escaping you.

"Oi, no need to be rude."

"Sorry, honey."

"Never claimed to be smart."

"The pretty ones never are," you tease.

"Alright, that's it. I've had enough."

Before you can stop him, he's on top of you, his fingers tickling you from your sides to your thighs. He knows your body getting all your secret spots that make you squirm away from. You almost succeeded in getting one of his hands over your head, but he surprises you by straddling you. You've stopped laughing, but Harry keeps going.

His curls are falling over his head, his eyes shining bright, a new lightness to them. At that moment, you realize how lucky you are, and before you know it, you reach your free hand up and place it on the back of his neck, bringing him down to your lips catching him by surprise.

Harry stays frozen for a second before sinking into the kiss, responding softly, wanting to explore you as he'd been thinking about this moment for months. You love the feel of his lips against yours; you'd happily give up breathing, never wanting to part. Harry tries to pull away, but you chase his mouth, not ready to stop kissing. He smiles against your lips, humming when he places a hand on your cheek, adding more pressure; you're not sure who lets out a moan letting it out into the universe wishing for more, hoping for forever.

You don't get butterflies or fireworks. Instead, you feel the ease of calmness wash over you like when you arrive home after a long day. That's what kissing Harry is like coming home.

You pull back, laying your head on the pillow Harry was wise to bring; you don't try to contain your smile as Harry stares down at you in a look of awe. You run your thumb over his bottom lip-loving how swollen they look thanks to you. His eyes never leave yours; you gasp as he places a kiss on your thumb before taking it in his mouth, sucking it gently; a moan escapes you, surprised at how hot the teasing is getting you.

"You're filthy, honey."

Harry smirks, "just for you, baby."

"Only our first date, H. We aren't going to move fast."

"A makeout isn't too fast for you," he teases.

"Felt just right." You smile, loving the feeling of his weight on top of you as he has not moved from his position, still straddling you.

"I agree."

"Sorry, I didn't ask if I could kiss you. Consent is sexy."

Harry's smile is soft, his eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, "You hereby have permission to kiss me whenever you please, my love."

"You know all the right things to say to make me puny for you."

"Good to know. Got to keep a mental list."

"What's on there so far?"

Harry smirks, leaning down his mouth right over your mouth; you remember the taste of lemon you felt when you kissed him, and well, you don't try to stop yourself when you attach your lips against his. There's no sweeter feeling, you've decided.

He pulls back, keeping the kiss short, "Know you can't be close to me without giving me a kiss. Know your heart is racing like it might beat out of your chest, and I know you're dying to ask me to be your boyfriend."

"Guess you are smart," you whisper.

He chuckles, nudging his nose against yours, humming as he places a kiss on the top of your nose.

"You know, I was right."

"Yeah, about what, H?" You reach your hand up to run your hand through his curls, brushing them back, giggling as they fall forward again.

"That your laugh sounds better in person. Know it's cheesy but truly music to my ears."

"You nutter!"

"Oi, picking up my slang, are you?"

"Got to, especially when you called that Evan kid a wanker for dismissing my response." You snicker, remembering the moment a few classes ago when you spoke up to give your opinion only for Evan trying to mansplain how women in politics were growing already especially having a female-run as a candidate a few years back. You would have cussed him out, but Harry did it for you. He packed up all your points with his own references. Safe to say, Evan has not spoken up since then.

"Cause he is one. You're the smartest person in the class, and that tosser should not even be in this class. Clearly, hasn't learned one bit since January."

"Settle down, honey. All in the past." You pat his chest a few times, getting his focus back on you. "Got that book you've wanted to read, want to give it a read now?"

"Course, baby. Happy you had it in your collection." He's gotten back into reading now that he seemed to have more time on his hands, and they had been bouncing recommendations off of each other. You had told him to stay off Book Tok because it was the same ten books being promoted by every page. His sister told him to read The Silent Patient, but he couldn't rationalize spending fifteen dollars, and he couldn't find the free pdf. He asked you and told him Amy bought it for you as a gift for feeding her.

"Let me get it out of my bag; you can lay in my lap easier to listen to."

Harry's eyes go wide; you're going to read him. He did not expect that, but he had to make sure. "Going to read to me, darling?"

"If you don't mind." you tuck your hand into your tote bag again, "brought my kindle in case you didn't want to. Won't be sad if you don't want to."

"No, I want you to. Yeah, more than anything. Got the prettiest voice." Harry pecks your lips, pulling back giddy because that's the first time he's kissed you, and well, he has to do it again. Your lips move in sync, the kisses feeling smoother but just as passionate. You break the kiss, playfully push him away, hands-off, letting you adjust yourself before he sets one of the smaller pillows in your lap and lays his head. Your hand is quick to find a place in his hair, thankful you've mastered the one hand reading and page-flipping due to always having a book in your hand growing up.

_____

After reading for a bit, Harry lifts his head from your lap, taking the time to admire you. You kept reading, letting him take you in from this new angle. You stopped brushing his hair instead, allowing yourself to get immersed in the book once again. You giggled, thinking back at Harry's reaction to the opening line of chapter one.

You had just flipped to a new page, ready to start chapter seven, when you saw how fidgety Harry had gotten. He clearly had something on his mind, so you wanted to give him his space; you had only read five words when he spoke, interrupting you.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Harry blurts, shifting to sit in front of you.

You don't smile, but you know he can see the gleam in your eyes at his words, "Hmmm...will you give me a cute nickname?"

Harry doesn't know what you're doing but goes along with it. "Already do, so yes."

"Will you let me make you more masks?"

"Yes."

"Will you knit me a sweater?"

"I'll knit you hundreds."

You nod, "then yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

"Yeah, you want me to be your boyfriend," Harry teases.

"Dork," you shove his shoulder, causing him to fall back. He gasps in shock.

You laugh, and it's music to his ears; his dramatic response is swallowed as he takes you in. Harry isn't sure where he'd be without you. He takes in the happiness displayed on your face and knows if you could look in a mirror, he'd look just as happy if not more. You are a light in his life.

These last few months have changed everything about him. Harry hadn't really understood what it meant when people said that your partner should also be your best friend. He thought it was cheesy and something to give false hope to others, but with you, he knew it was true.

Starting off as friends built a strong foundation for you both to grow together, and he is forever thankful you took a chance on him.

Harry called it fate, but you well, you think it was all thanks to the zoom gods who set you up in a random break out room not once but twice.

_____

thank you for reading :) I adore you xx

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Final Chapter

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2718

Warnings: all the angst with a side order of fluff, FINAL CHAPTER

A/N: this is it, the series finale. I really hope you guys enjoyed the series and that this ending does it justice. Thank you for the lovely comments on previous chapters, I love you guys! Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Five | Masterlist

- - - - -

“We need to talk”

“I think you said enough yesterday” I say dismissively as I stand up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

“But you did!” 

“I know this is no excuse but I was really drunk”

“You're right, that isn’t an excuse. What you said to me really hurt”

“I know and I am so so sorry. I think I thought that if I could make you hate me then it would be easier for me to not love you.”

I pause, trying to make sense of what he’s just said. 

“That’s stupid”

“I realise that now, but at the time my alcohol infused brain thought it was genius.” He says and I can't help but be slightly amused “Look Y/N, I need you to know I didn’t mean any of what I said yesterday. And I really hope you don't hate me, though I don't blame you if you do”

“I don’t hate you” I take his hands in mine and look deep in his eyes “I could never hate you, you mean too much to me now. I couldn’t have got through the past few weeks without you, so you're not getting rid of me that easy”

I give him a gentle but sincere smile and he lets out a sigh of relief. 

“It didn’t work anyway” he says and I respond with a confused look “My genius plan failed… I still love you” 

Before I can say anything else Eva appears at the door.

“There you are!” She calls and I quickly release the priest’s hands as I turn to look at her. She looks from me, to the priest and back to me “everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. This is the priest who’s doing the wedding.” 

“Oh uh, actually… I’m not anymore” he says, suddenly awkward again. 

“Can you give us a minute?” I say to Eva and she nods before disappearing back inside the house. I turn my attention back to the worried looking priest “What do you mean?” 

“I can’t be there today” 

“Are you serious? We need you!” 

“I know it’s unprofessional to pull out this late but so is kissing the bride behind the groom’s back, so…” he lets out a small nervous chuckle “I’ve arranged cover already. Father Crilly. He’s a good priest, he’ll make sure it all runs smooth”

“You're a good priest! You can make sure it runs smooth!”

“I can’t” he says, looking down at his feet

“Of course you can”

“No I can’t!” He snaps, looking back up at me. I notice tears starting to form in his eyes. “I can’t because I want it to go wrong. I want there to be a reason for this wedding not to happen, for you not to marry him… instead of me” 

My breath catches in my throat as I look at him, not knowing how to respond.

“Father…” I almost whisper “I- I don't know what to say”

“You don't have to say anything”

“You know how much mean to me-”

“Please don’t” he interrupts but I carry on 

“-but I can’t leave Daniel. I’m sorry”

“I can’t pretend to understand why you would marry a man who treats you the way he has, but if you love him even half as much as I love you… then I respect your decision. I’m not going to get in your way.” 

He turns to leave but I grab his arm gently stopping him. 

“Are you gonna be alright?” I ask and he gives me a small nod

“It’ll pass” 

I watch as he walks out my driveway and disappears down the road, taking deep steadying breaths before putting a smile on my face and heading inside to get ready. 

After all, today is to be the happiest day of my life. Right? 

— — — — 

So far the rest of the day has run smooth. I explained to Eva and the rest of the bridesmaids that the priest had to pull out last minute, making up some excuse about a family emergency, but that he’d arranged cover so there was nothing to stress about. Eva, as my substitute maid of honour, took on the job of alerting Daniel to the last minute change so there would be no confusion when he turned up at the church and found Father Crilly waiting for him. 

A few hours later I descended the stairs in my beautiful white dress to the sound of the girls showering me with compliments and my aunt Lynda sniffling into a hankie. 

“You look like a princess” she says, pulling me into a slightly too tight hug. 

It wasn’t long till the cars arrived and we were on our way. The bridesmaids pilled into one while me and Aunt Lynda got into the other. Lynda rambled on about something but I couldn't really hear her. Too busy staring silently out of the window. The closer we get to the church, the more I can feel the panic rising in my chest. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” She asks as she squeezes my hand gently, pulling my mind back into the car.

“Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” I reply as convincingly as possible. 

“It’s okay to be nervous. Hell, I was more nervous the second time than I was for my first”

“I didn’t know you were married before uncle Steve?” 

“Yeah! It was long before you were born. We were school sweethearts. Like you and Daniel, only less in love. We thought we were in love but looking back now I realise we were too young to really know what that meant. Your dad tried to warn me. Said Troy and I were better off as friends, but we didn’t listen. He was great for relationship advice was your dad, bit of a self proclaimed love expert.” She pauses, going watery eyed again “I’m sorry he’s not here”

“Me too” 

“I’m sure wherever he is, he’ll be watching over you today. Your mother too. They’d both be so proud” she squeezes my hand again and smiles tearfully. 

“Don't make me cry. If I ruin my makeup Eva will kill me” I laugh, wiping under my eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She says, handing me a tissue “no more crying, this is a happy day!”

— — — — 

By the time we arrived at the church the bridesmaids were waiting outside with the photographer and the new priest. The photographer camera flashed at me as Lynda helped me out of the car and lead me to the church. Looking up at those wooden doors, I was glad I had Lynda to cling onto. My legs felt like jelly. 

Father Crilly introduced himself to me before heading inside the church. The bridesmaids, Lynda and I waited outside until we heard the music start, signalling the beginning of the ceremony. The bridesmaids began their walk up the aisle and before long the music changed again to the bridal chorus.

“Here we go” 

We walk into the church, stopping just inside the doors. I glance up to the front of the church to see Daniel looking back at me, a smile spread across his face. A smile I can’t make myself return. Instead I keep my eyes down, focusing on the floor as we walk up aisle. I can feel every set of eyes on me, but I keep mine fixed on my feet that carry me closer and closer to my future. 

We reach the top and Lynda gives me a kiss on the cheek before going to join the bridesmaids on the front row. Daniel takes my hand in his, whispering “you look amazing” into my ear as Father Crilly begins the ceremony. 

His opening speech goes by in a blur. I try to listen to every word he’s saying, to keep myself planted in the real world but my mind is spinning and my heart is pounding. I can’t stop thinking about what Lynda said in the car. What if Daniel and I aren’t in love? We just think we are because we’ve been together so long. We’re just used to being with each other. 

I also can’t get the priest out of my head. Worrying about him. Wondering what he’s doing now, whether he’s thinking about me. I replay our last conversation in my head. 

‘I still love you’ 

‘I want there to be a reason for this wedding not to happen, for you not to marry him… instead of me’ 

I try to push his words from my mind, focusing instead on his final ones. 

‘It’ll pass’

But what if it doesn’t. 

“If any person present knows of any lawful reason why this marriage can’t take place they should speak now or forever hold their peace” Father Crilly pauses. 

A tense silence fills the room. 

I look out across the crowd of friends and family sitting silently in their seats, a small part of me hoping the priest will burst through the doors dramatically declaring his love for me as he sweeps me away to live happily ever after. 

I shake the fantasy from my mind and turn my attention back to the man I’m actually about to marry. Daniel is also looking out at the church crowd. He looks nervous. I give his hand a gentle squeeze and he looks at me.

“Are you okay?” I whisper and he nods, but I can tell he’s not. As he looks away from me again my mind starts to spiral, panic rising in my chest. I can’t do this. 

‘It’ll pass’

 I think I’m making a mistake. 

‘It’ll pass’

These feelings are too intense to ignore.

‘It’ll pass’

These feelings of love. Not for Daniel. For the priest. I don't want them to pass. 

“I object” I say quietly, staring down at my hand enclosed within Daniel’s. I can feel his gaze on my face as a wave of gasps and shocked murmuring works its way through the church. 

“What?” He says, a nervous laugh escapes his lips but the smile fades as my sad eyes lock onto his.

“I object” 

“To- to your own wedding…?” Father Crilly asks, voice full of confusion.

“I can’t do it. I can’t start a marriage with a lie.”

“Y/N? What are you talking about?” Daniel asks, gripping my hands tightly in his own, afraid to let go. 

“When you marry someone, there shouldn’t be any secrets. You have to be able to confess anything, trust them with everything… I need to be honest with you.” I pause, building up the courage to say what I need to say next. “Daniel I-”

“I cheated on you” he blurts out, earning another gasp from the crowd

“…what?” 

“I’ve been having an affair…” Daniel repeats “Tiff and I… we, uh-”

“Tiffany? My best friend Tiffany?” I ask and he nods “How long?”

“Maybe we should continue this somewhere else” Father Crilly tries to move us but I ignore him.

“How long Daniel? How long have you been sleeping with my best friend behind my back?”

“A few months I think”

“You think? What, you don't even remember?” I bring my hands up to my head, rubbing circles on my temples as I turn my back on Daniel and take deep breaths. 

“Y/N, please listen to me. I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you-” he puts his hands on my shoulders but I shrug him off.

“You say that a lot for someone who has repeatedly hurt me. Emotionally…” I turn back to face him “physically. And every time I make excuses for you, brush off the insults, hide the bruises because I thought I was in love with you. But I’m not. I don't love you. I haven’t loved you for a long time. I was just too scared to leave you. But I'm not scared anymore”

“I really think we should talk this through somewhere private” Father Crilly tries again but I shake my head. 

“I’m done.” I take Daniel’s hand and look him straight in the eye “Thank you for finally setting me free” 

I remove my engagement ring and place it in his hand before turning and walking back down the aisle to exit the church. Daniel runs after me, stopping me once we’re outside. 

“Y/N! Please just let me explain-”

“Did you ever stop to think how I would feel?” I spin around, taking him by surprise “When you were with her, did you consider me at all?” I pause, giving him the chance to respond but he doesn’t “See that’s the difference between you and me. All I ever do, all I’ve ever done, is think about you and how you’d react. A few days ago I kissed someone-”

“What?! Who?!” He yells, anger creeping onto his face

“Don't you dare get angry with me after what you’ve done!” I respond and he takes a deep breath “I could’ve done more. I had the opportunity to sleep with him. But I didn’t. Because I kept thinking about you, about how you would feel. And what you would do to me if you ever found out”

“I love you”

“No you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t have slept with my best friend. You don't love me, and that’s fine. I don't love you either, cause if I truly did then I wouldn’t have kissed the priest. I think we both just convinced ourselves we were in love because everyone else thought we were this fairytale love story. But maybe we were better off as friends.”

“Maybe” he says quietly, deep in thought “I’m really sorry, about everything. I treated you…terribly” 

Hearing a sincere, genuine apology from him, I finally feel at peace with it all. 

“It doesn’t matter now” I say, giving him a small smile “do you love Tiffany?”

He thinks for a moment before gently nodding his head. 

“I think so, yeah”

“You should tell her” I say, gesturing behind him as Tiffany comes running towards us. 

“Eva texted me.” She says breathlessly “Y/N, I am so sorry I should have-” 

I cut her off by pulling her into a hug.

“It’s okay” I say, releasing her and she looks at me in shock as I hand her my bridal bouquet “I hope you two are happy together. Really I mean that” 

I turn and walk away. 

“Where are you going?” Tiff calls after me.

“To get my happy ending” 

— — — — 

“Y/N?!” 

The priest looks at me confused as he answers his front door. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“You lied to me” I say deadpan “you said Father Crilly would make sure it all ran smooth. But it didn’t. Something went very very wrong during the ceremony.”

“What happened?” He looks genuinely concerned

“Well a few things. The bride objected, and then the groom confessed to cheating with the former maid of honour. Then the bride confessed to kissing the former priest and they both confessed to not loving each other.”

He stands looking at me for a few moments, taking it all in. 

“Wow” he finally says “so not smooth then?”

“No” I burst out laughing and the priest joins in before turning serious again. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, searching my face.

“Yeah” I say after a moment, “more than okay, I’m great. I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders”

“That’s good”

There’s a comfortable silence before I speak again. 

“You know, during the ceremony I kept hearing you in my head. Saying ‘It’ll pass’. And I realised something”

“What?”

“I don't ever want this feeling to pass. This feeling I get when I think of you, when I’m with you.” I pause to take a breath “I love you” 

“I love you too Y/N”

I smile. 

“So what happens now?”

He takes a step toward me, closing the gap as he brings his hands up to my face and crashes his lips to mine.

— — — — 

I started this story by saying every girl dreams of her perfect wedding day. 

Well mine ended up being far from perfect. 

But as I lay here wrapped in the priest’s arms, for the first time in a long time I’m happy. I’m free. 

And I’m in love. 

[sunmoonandeddie]

feelings are fatal (23/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 3,018

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, funeral

masterlist

a/n: this little chapter drop!!!

The funeral was three days later.

You’d taken it upon yourself to stay in the Stark cabin, licking your wounds and mourning the loss of the man you’d spent almost a decade of your life with. You’d mourned losing him before, but this was different.

This was permanent.

There’d be no more chances to go see him in Buffalo. There’d be no more watching him paint in his home studio, seeing the life he built for himself.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since you left the hospital.

You had walked out of Steve’s room, tears rolling down your cheeks. It felt like a death march as you had to face his family, had to face Peggy, the daughter that was named after you. “He’s gone,” you’d said, hands trembling. “I…”

“Oh, honey,” Peggy had whispered, moving to hug you as her own pain welled up in her eyes.

“I have to go,” you had insisted as you quickly slipped out of her grasp, speeding down the hall. You’d left the members of your little family in the waiting room, knowing that they’d gotten to talk to him before he’d passed but still feeling so guilty because you were the last one he’d seen. The last one he’d talked to.

You hadn’t even stopped when Bucky and Wanda had called out your name. You had the car keys in your hand, since he’d given them to you at some point in the blur of the day.

You’d left him there.

The pain was unbearable.

You’d spent the past three days at the bottom of a bottle, blasting all the playlists that Tony had saved. At some point, it had switched to a playlist full of old jazz music from the forties.

You’d thrown the bottle against the wall and watched it shatter.

Sweeping it up while absolutely plastered had been… an adventure. You had the bandages on your feet to prove it.

But you’d gotten it all swept up and into the trash before moving onto the next bottle.

You’d turned off your phone after the fourth phone call and the eighteenth text.

But Bucky didn’t show up. He didn’t come banging on your door like you hoped he would, swooping in and kissing you like the prince in a fairytale.

It was monumentally disappointing.

When you arrived at the funeral, you’d thrown the car into park and then sat in the lot outside for at least forty-five minutes. You’d shown up early entirely because you knew that you’d need time to gather the courage to go inside.

You’d had to order a black dress and heels with express shipping, since you hadn’t exactly thought to pack them when you and Bucky had gone on your little vacation and you didn’t really feel like going out to go shopping.

Your mistake.

It had taken a lot of effort to actually shower and do your hair and makeup. Your ankles felt like they’d give out any moment as you slammed the car door shut and headed inside.

“Hello.”

You almost tripped over your own feet as you heard a feminine voice call out to you. “H-Hi,” you said as you finally came face to face with the woman who had your name. “I’m—”

“I know,” she said, before getting a weak laugh. “Me, too. I’ve heard so much about you. My dad… uh… He really, really loved you.”

“Thank you,” you said, voice a little stiff. You hadn’t done much talking the past few days, unless screaming out lyrics counted.

Yeah, it counted.

Sorta.

“Um… H-How is Peggy—I mean, your mom—doing?”

“She’s handling it about as can be expected,” she said with a smile as she glanced to where the Brit in question was. It was strange, seeing the woman that was named after you. She was older than you by a few years, and had a few gray hairs. But she looked so much like the perfect mix of Steve and Peggy… “But dad was getting up there… more so than any other man. They both knew it was coming. I just don’t know if mom will be able to hold on without him much longer.”

Great. Because that’s exactly what you wanted to hear.

“Here, let me introduce my siblings!” She said, calling them over before you could say no.

By the time the actual service started, you’d met far more Rogerses than you had ever wanted to.

It was exhausting. They were all so… kind. Despite everything, despite the fact that you were literally their father’s ex girlfriend, despite the fact that you were the last person their father spoke to before he died, and not his wife.

“My husband, Steve, has always been what his best friend called him. A punk,” Peggy said as she stood up before everyone, letting out a weak laugh as she glanced back at the open casket. “But he was so many things. Brave. Outspoken. Generous. Stubborn…”

Your eyes stayed on her, even though you stopped hearing what she was saying. You didn’t have the energy to listen to a eulogy.

That is, until she said your name.

“Huh?” You said, suddenly on high alert. Some part of you was aware that your team was sitting in the front row, including Bucky. You’d been too busy speaking with Steve’s children to talk to them, not that you minded that. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face them.

“Would you please come up and say a few words?” Peggy asked gently, getting down and holding out her hand to you.

“I…” Fuck. You couldn’t say no. It was a god damn funeral. “Okay,” you said after a long moment, placing your hand in Peggy’s and letting her lead you up to the podium. The sea of people staring at you made your blood run cold, your hands trembling as you gripped the wood. “Um… H-Hi…” You introduced yourself, you voice cracking. “I’ve known Steve… since I was eighteen years old. And we were together for almost a decade.” You snorted, shaking your head as you glanced back at the casket, your heart stopping for a moment when your eyes rested on his face. “I know… most of you are probably wondering why the hell I’m up here. Why the hell anyone would want their husband’s ex girlfriend speaking at their funeral, but uh… Steve helped make me the person I am today.” Your heart was hammering inside of your chest, threatening to break your ribs. “He taught me when to push myself, how to trust my instincts.” Also all things that Bucky taught you. You could feel his seafoam blue gaze on you, pinning you in place. “I know it’s cheesy… But he taught me what it means to do the right thing, even when it means standing up to someone you love and telling them so. He taught me how to keep going even when my world was crumbling.” Your heart was shattering as your eyes met Bucky’s. “He taught me to chase after what I want the most in the world, and to accept nothing but the best.” Tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. “Steve was a bright light in the world, even when he was in his darkest moments.” You gave a watery smile, your hands clammy. “Steve was not the shield, and those of us who knew him personally know that. The shield was Steve. He made it into the symbol that it is. A symbol of what every person can be, what they should be. What we should all aspire to be.” Your throat was starting to close up. “But he was showing us that even before the serum, wasn’t he? Because it doesn’t matter how small you are, or where you come from. You can make the choice everyday to make the world a little better.” Sniffling, you swallowed around the lump in his throat. “And I know I’m rambling, but I really didn’t expect to be speaking here today, so please forgive me, but I just… I never thought he’d die like this. There were hundreds of missions where I thought… this is it. This is where I lose him. I always knew he’d fight until he couldn’t anymore. The fact that he got the honor of passing like he did… what feels like a million years old and surrounded by his loved ones in a hospital… just like any other man… I can’t think of a better happy ending for him.” You took a deep breath. “But there’s someone who should be up here more than me. Someone who knew him from the beginning. From playground to battlefield and beyond, right?”

Bucky’s entire body was trembling as he slowly got to his feet and walked up to the podium. But before you could leave, his hand slipped into yours and squeezed, a silent question being asked.

Stay?

And how could he ever think you’d leave him?

You squeezed his hand back, staying by his side as he slowly started to speak. He spoke about the first time they met, all the fights he broke up.

Until the end of the line.

You guessed it really was the end. The grand finale of a life that wasn’t always easy, but was always worth it.

Watching Steve’s casket being lowered into the ground felt like a hallucination. How could it possibly be real?

The feeling that you’d gotten in the hospital was washing back over you like a tsunami. The overwhelming feeling of despair, of disbelief.

Of anger.

You wanted more time. There wasn’t ever enough time and now he was gone.

You slipped away after the funeral ended, getting into your car and just… driving. You knew you’d eventually make it back to the cabin, but you needed to roll the windows down and just feel the icy cold wind in your hair, on your skin.

Making you feel alive.

When you got back to the cabin, the sun had set, stars twinkling overhead in a brilliance you’d never see in the city.

You held your heels in your hand as you stumbled into the house, tossing them to the side as you headed for the kitchen. “FRIDAY, put on some music,” you said quietly.

“What playlist would you like?”

“Read the room, Fri,” you said simply, sighing as you grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen. She started to play music throughout the house, and you bit your lip as she started to play a blend of your favorites. Mostly Black Pumas and The Teskey Brothers. “Fri, can you turn on the fireplace?”

Warm light filled the living room and kitchen, flickering softly.

You didn’t bother changing as you collapsed onto the fur rug with just your wine and your bottle opener. “Dumb… cork…,” you huffed as you worked to get it open.

You were about halfway through the bottle when you heard a car pull up, followed by the slam of the door. Your mind was fuzzy as you watched the front door open and Bucky walk in. “Hi.”

He stopped in the entryway, still wearing the all black suit he’d donned at the funeral. “Hey,” he breathed out. He couldn’t help but snort as he saw the bottle of wine in your hands. “Yeah… It has been that kind of day, huh?”

When you held it out to him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away as you watched his pink lips wrap around the bottle and he took a swig.

Fuck, you had it so bad.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you watched him stand by the end of the sofa. “It’s been… a rough day.”

“I’ve been better,” he said simply as he took another drink. “But I know I’ll feel better once you and I are speaking again.”

Your heart squeezed inside your chest as your eyes met, your cheeks flushing. “Right… I… I think we were both… frazzled… But I’m so sorry.”

Pain and Misery by The Teskey Brothers started to play over the stereo, filling the house with soothing R&B. It was one of your favorite songs in the whole entire world.

“I've been in love, honey, you know it's true… Was since that day I first laid my eyes on you…”

“Malen’kaya,” he said as he set the bottle on the coffee table, holding out his hand to you. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Could you forgive me for how I acted?”

“Love is a crazy game, baby… It's how I feel… It makes you oh, so high, but it takes so long to heal…”

You nodded after a long moment, slipping your hand into his and squeezing as he tugged you to your feet. “I can. I do,” you said, the wine making your head fill with bubbles.

“So, please, yeah, yeah… Won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone, it's all pain and misery. Honey, please, yeah, yeah… Won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's pain and misery…”

Something inside of you clicked back into place as he pulled you close to his chest, the two of you immediately starting to sway. Falling back into step with him was as easy as breathing, you were finding.

Perhaps even easier.

“Sometimes I curse that day of when you came along… I was happy but it's been pain now for so very long… Oh, I'm begging you, honey… Please, won't you stay? 'Cause I been so lonely since you gone away…”

“I don’t like not talking to you,” he said quietly, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Feels so wrong… Like I can’t breathe.”

Funny how you’d just had almost the same thought.

“Everyday is pain… In the end, it's hard to see… Every fateful day is oh, so sad, now that I've lost the best friend that I ever had…”

He was so warm, so comforting. Like a teddy bear.

“I don’t like not talking to you either,” you admitted as you nuzzled closer to him, breathing in the musky scent of his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Can we please never do it again?”

“Honey, please, won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's all pain and misery…”

He grinned against your forehead, his hand moving from your hip as he slid his arm around your waist to pull you even closer. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Honey, please, whoa please, won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's pain and misery…”

“Jamie…,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to gather the words you wanted to say.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asked, resting his head against yours.

“Hey, I'm begging you, honey… Whoa… I want you to love me… Yeah, I want you to love me… I need you so bad…”

“What does this mean?” You asked as the song ended and it shifted to another. “For us, I mean?” You were starting to panic, anxiety welling up in your chest and causing you to word vomit. “Because I can’t do this back and forth, I can’t. I won’t. I won’t survive it. I can’t keep pretending like we’re just friends and that the way you make me feel doesn’t make me… doesn’t make me…”

“Doesn’t make you what?” He asked quietly, not letting you move away from his secure embrace. “Please… Because I can’t keep acting as though you’re not my everything.” He held the back of your head, his fingers gently massaging your scalp. “Please… Please, tell me you love me. Because I…” He rested his forehead against yours, a tear rolling down his cheek. “The love I have for you has rewritten every piece of DNA in my body,” he said. “It’s in my blood, my bones… You are written in my heart, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. And…” He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And if you don’t love me the way I love you, that’s just fine. As long as I have you in my life… I’ll be whatever you need.”

“Jamie…,” you said with a weak laugh. You were openly crying, though you weren’t sure when you had started. “Oh, Jamie… Do you really think I could ever not love you?” Your nose nudged against his as you wrapped both of your arms around his neck. “If you don’t kiss me, we’re gonna have a fight.”

The smile that split open his face was blinding. The kiss he planted upon your lips was absolutely filthy. A mess of teeth and tongue and grins and giggles, a tangle of feelings pent up for so long that you were sure you’d never get them all out. You’d spend the rest of your life unraveling all the ways he made you feel, and you’d do it with a smile.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” you said as you pressed yourself against him. “I never wanna be without you ever again.”

“You never have to,” he breathed out as he nipped at your lower lip. Without further ado, he reached down and slipped his arm under your thighs. You let out a squeak as he scooped you up, carrying you bridal style up the stairs. “I’m gonna love you so good,” he said with a growl.

You almost hit your head on the door frame as he carried you into the guest bedroom you two were occupying, squealing as he tossed you onto the bed. “Jamie!”

“Yes, malen’kaya?” He asked as he shoved off his suit jacket, toeing off his dress shoes at the same time.

“Nothing,” you said, giggling as you started to strip down, too. “Nothing at all.”

When you two finally finished hours later, the wine had worn off, and he was asleep. You’d curled up on top of his chest, his cool vibranium hand resting on the small of your back, helping you cool off.

“Jamie?” You murmured, testing if he was asleep. When he grunted, you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his flesh hand. “I love you…”

“I love you more, baby.”

[imagine-lcorp]

Make You Feel My Love (One Shot)

MarvelsDC22 1K CELEBRATION!!!

Prompt

Person A falls through thin ice into sub zero water; person B rescues them and tries different remedies to prevent hypothermia.

A/N: Hello my dears!!! long time no see, but here I am once again and this time with a little piece celebrating my little rascal @marvelsdc22​ since she reached the wonderful follower count of 1K!!!!!! She’s awesome, amazing and so so great, so go follow!!! and please enjoy this little piece I wrote for her writing challenge (hope you enjoy it too lil rascal). So here it is, thank you all for your patience and let me know what you think! love y’all!!!

Lena Luthor x R//Word Count: 3, 515

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When you invited Lena to your little cabin in the woods, the last thing you expected was for her to actually accept the invitation.

Not that you didn't want her to come but, after you uttered such invitation, you had realized just how awkward and creepy it sounded. You had been quick to explain your little cabin was in fact located within a little compound, around a small lake other little cabins shared.

"I would love to." She had said after listening to your little rambling, with a little smile forming in her face as you tried not to blush too hard.

Now there you were, trying to open the now stuck wooden door of the shack.

It was an early morning during the late winter when you made the trip but it was colder than you had expected it to be. There had been a couple of snowstorms a few days back and everything around was covered in snow. Fortunately, the roads had been cleared of snow and you had no trouble reaching your place, but the cabin had also been covered by snow and icicles. The door was stuck by it all and you kept pushing with your shoulder, and hoping the inside of your cabin wasn't a complete mess inside.

"Need some help?" Lena's voice startled you for a moment.

You turned around, watching as she approached you with your bags in hand. You had told her you would go to help her with them as soon as you opened the door but it seemed you were taking a bit more than expected.

"It's alright." You struggled for a moment, feeling your shoulder ache as you tried pushing the door once more.

With that and a little grunt, the door opened and you smiled triumphantly as you looked back at Lena.

"Uh, welcome to my crib?" You shrugged and Lena chuckled.

"Thank you." She handed you your bags.

You took a quick look around, noticing the little dust particles dancing with the rays of sunlight.

"Sorry if it is a bit dusty inside. It's been a while since the last time I came."

"When was the last time?" She stepped in and observed the place were you were supposed to spend five days together.

There was a big sofa, with a couple of cushions and colorful blankets, placed in front of a little fireplace. A big Persian rug adorned the floor between them and the walls around had paintings hanging from them. She followed as you walked inside and placed your bags in the floor except for the big one.

"Almost a year." You said walking through a short hallway Lena noticed lead to the kitchen. She left her bags along with yours and followed you.

You opened the big bag and started to fill the couple of pantries with the groceries you had bought for the trip. Cans of food, bags of snacks, bottles of water, and some more.

"A year? Doesn't look like it." She went to your side and started to take a couple of items of her own, helping you put them in their place.

"Well, I lend it to my friends from time to time or rent it for the holidays."

"So, you let a lot of people in here?" Lena questioned with a raised brow. "Strangers?"

"Sometimes." You thought for a moment before leaving a couple of snacks back in the bag. Only then you realized you missed a safety protocol.

For the past couple of years, since you have known each other, you had known Lena to be very cautious about the places she frequented. She wanted to make sure no one around was in danger, including herself, and that everywhere she went had at least an emergency exit in case she needed one. She always worried about people.

Your cabin, however, was surrounded by miles and miles of woods, had a lake in the yard, and the neighbor next door was at least ten minutes away from you. There was no emergency exit and practically no one around to help you if you turned into someone's target. You were living in a place for terror movies, of course she was worried you let strangers inside.

"Uh, I should check if everything is okay."

"We can go check after we're done with this." Your heard Lena chuckle again. "Don't worry, (Y/N)."

"You sure? I mean, I could make a quick scan or-"

"(Y/N), really, I'm sure there are no hidden dangers here. I was a bit surprised you would let other people stay here."

"Oh, okay." You said taking the last couple of food cans and opening one of the pantries. "It's just that, if there's someone else here, I can keep the cabin in good shape."

"Instead of leaving it abandoned, you get some money from it, right?" Lena smiled. "Who would have thought you were an entrepreneur of your own."

"Well, I may have picked a few things from you." You finished putting everything in place and closed the pantries. "But I think I still should check around, make sure everything is in place, and then we could light the fireplace. How does that sound?"

"Fine by me." Lena nodded. "But we should light the fireplace first, I can't feel my fingers." She raised her hands, showing you how her fingertips were slowly turning purple.

You made a horrified face and quickly went to grab some matches. Thankfully, the last visitors you had were kind enough to restock your little woodpile and leave some fuel. In a matter of minutes, the living room was filled with the comforting warmth of the fire and you and Lena sat for a moment in the sofa getting used to it.

You talked for a moment, mostly you, about the things you could try while you were there, which were essentially hiking, chopping wood for the fire, leaning how to cook with little food, and spend your days close to the fire.

"I know there isn't much to do, but that's the idea. Peace and quiet for a few days." You said pulling your head back to rest it on the sofa.

"It may not be much but that's all I need. I was starting to feel suffocated with all that was happening." Lena looked sad for a moment before leaning and taking your hand in hers. "Thank you again for inviting me."

You tried not to blush at the contact, remind yourself you and Lena were friends, close friends now, that were in the middle of the woods, sharing a little cottage for a week. Just the two of you. Alone. Nothing extraordinary. Something friends did all the time.

"Yeah, anytime." You said smiling and even when Lena noticed the redness in your cheeks, knowing perfectly it wasn't because of the cold, she smiled too. "Should we check the house now?"

"Sure." She said and you both stood from your seats.

First you searched the living room, where nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You even remembered it being exactly that way since the last time you had been there. You moved then into the kitchen, although you had already filled the pantries with food and snacks, there wasn't much to look into. Next, there were a couple of rooms, placed behind the living room and the kitchen and separated by the hallway. There was a bed in each one and Lena was a bit disappointed when you told her you would have your own rooms.

"No need to share a bed." You laughed a bit awkwardly and moved to check under one of the beds.

"Alright." She replied with a small sigh that you could hear.

You would have wanted to ask what that sigh meant but thought best of it. "All clear."

"Good."

You stood and walked to the door. "Alright, so, uh, this is your room and I don't know, I still haven't showed you the lake so maybe we could go for a while after we unpack."

"Okay, I like how that sounds." Lena said meeting you at the door. She was a bit closer to you than you would have expected and you felt your heart skip a beat. "Let's go for our bags."

"Right." You moved to the side and walked with Lena to the main door, unaware of the grin that had formed in her face. You took your bags and headed back to your rooms.

An hour later, you were out of the cabin, walking through the dirt road that lead to the shore of the lake. You had to kick your way through the snow that had accumulated around but you managed. The lake itself was frozen, the blue and white of the surface contrasting with the clear blue sky and the dark brown trees. The light reflected on it, making everything around brighter. It reminded you a bit of Lena's smile.

"It looks beautiful." She said stopping near the shore.

"It is." You said while looking at her.

"I get why you like this place." She turned to look at you and you couldn't help but smile.

"It's a little piece of paradise." You said stepping near her. "And I gotta show you a little thing."

You started to walk past the shore of the lake into it frozen surface, waking a couple of yards away.

"(Y/N), what are doing?" She said worriedly.

"It's alright, the lake stays frozen until spring so I can show you a little something."

You bent down to clear some of the snow on the surface and smiled when you got a glimpse of the fishes that could still swim in the cold water. Every time you stayed in the cabin you tried to fish under the ice out of curiosity and stubbornness. Many locals tried it too and although you had never caught anything, it was fun to try anyways. Maybe this time, with Lena's help, you could actually catch something. So you had, in fact, another thing you could do during your little vacation.

"Show me what?" Lena raised her voice. She was still standing along the shore of the lake, unsure if it was safe to follow.

You were about to answer when you heard a loud crack under your feet and Lena watched with horror as multiple fissures made their way on the surface of the lake where you stood. It seemed you had miscalculated the resistance of the ice you were standing and now you were in trouble.

Just like the lake, you froze in place, trying to keep yourself calm. If you could move slowly and steady enough towards the shore, this would be nothing more than a little scare.

"(Y/N)." You could hear the worry and fear in Lena's voice as she approached the lake.

"I'm fine." You raised your hands, trying to keep them out of your body for some balance, and looked at Lena with a little smile, reassuring her as much as possible. "The ice is a little soft here so I'm gonna move to the shore."

You took a short step forward but instantly regretted it as the cracks expanded along the ice. You felt the panic raise in your chest.

"(Y/N), please don't move." Lena said looking equally scared. "I'm gonna get you out, okay? Don't move."

"I won't." You swallowed hard, taking a couple of deep breaths, filling the cold air with a warm mist.

Time seemed to stop for a moment as you tried to calm yourself and watched as Lena approached the edge of the lake. She was going walking towards you and you feared this would only worsen your situation but not just for you but for Lena too. If the ice could hold her weight then you had a chance to reach her and get out of the lake without further problem. However, if the ice kept cracking it would put the two of you in danger and falling into freezing waters was not something you wanted to happen on your first day of vacation.

Lena took the first step into the lake, slow and steady, testing the ice under her feet. She was looking down, making sure she wasn't stepping on some other cracks, and raised her eyes towards you from time to time to make sure you were still in place. She was a couple of steps away from you when you both heard a loud cracking.

There was a look in her face you had seen a couple of times before but never directed towards you, a mix of fear and worry that let you know you were in trouble. You felt the ice move, so subtle at first but then like a tremor under your feet, and you were about to jump to the other side when you were sucked into the frozen lake.

First you felt the pain, as if thousands and thousands of shards of glass were being thrown at your body in a second. Then you tried to take a deep breath, which only made everything worst. You tried to move your arms and legs, to swim out of there but you couldn't. You had no control over your body and after the initial pain you started to feel numb. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't move. The only thing you felt was cold.

Suddenly, as you still fought for air, you felt even colder, with the winter breeze hitting your already frozen face. You coughed the water in your mouth and tried opening your eyes. Beside you, a tall greenish figure was dragging and pulling you from towards the edge of the lake, grabbing you by the back of your winter jacket. Only when you reached land the figure moved you, placing you flat on the dirt and putting her hands under you. They carried you all the way back to your cabin and, even when you couldn't think, you wondered where Lena had gone and if she was okay.

"I'm fine, (Y/N), I'm here." You heard the green person say and you wondered why they sounded so much like Lena.

You still couldn't move, or feel, when Lena reached your cabin door. She knew you were barely aware of what was happening as she carried you inside and placed you on the rug. Using the weaponry in her Lexosuit, she reignited the dying fire of your fireplace and found herself in a little moment of panic as she watched you lay there, trembling and hugging yourself.

Of all the things she imagined could happen, Lena never thought that you falling into freezing cold water was one of them. She had to think quick and fast before the symptoms of hypothermia started to take a hold on you. Leaving to get some help was no option, even using her suit to take you to a hospital would take considerable time you didn't have. So she did the only few things she knew could help you.

She took off her Lexosuit, something easy as she had modified it with nanotechnology to appear and disappear as quick as possible, like she had done with Kara's suit to use in case of emergency, and ran to your rooms to get all the blankets she could. She even found a towel for you head and took it with her. She put them in front of the fire to warm them while she moved you once again to take your own clothes off. You were soaked and hadn't stopped trembling.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), I have to take this off."

She removed every piece carefully off your stiff body, your jacket, your sweater, your shirt, your boots, your socks, your pants, leaving you in nothing but your underwear, and tried not to get distracted by your sudden bareness. This was not the way she had expected to see you like this the first time. She put your clothes aside and put the towel around your hair to help it dry.

You still hadn't opened your eyes by the time she had finished, and were a bit unsure of what was happening, but you didn't complain since you started to feel a bit of warm. Your brain seemed to get back to working as you realized Lena had placed some blankets over you.

"Y-you hav-ve a s-supers-suit." You said through clattering teeth.

Lena, who feared you might be losing consciousness, let out a relieved breath.

"I have." She started to take her clothes off too and kept talking to keep you awake. "What do you think?"

"I-it's c-cool." You replied.

"Thank you." Lena finished putting aside her last piece of clothing and moved down towards you.

You could feel the blankets being lifted and a sudden mass of warmth pulling itself closer to you. You tried opening your eyes and in a second you could feel your own temperature rise like a boiling kettle. Lena's face was a couple of inches away from you, the mass of warmth you had felt was her own body, her own semi-naked body.

"L-Lena?" You said and this time you were sure the trembling in your voice was not due to the cold this time. "W-what are y-you d-doing?"

"Sorry but we have to keep you warm, alright?" She moved her arms, wrapping herself around you. "We need to stay like this for a little while."

"Just a l-little?" The words left your mouth before you could think better.

"As long as it takes." Lena said with a serious tone. "I'm not leaving you, (Y/N), so we better get comfy."

"I already a-am." You replied.

"Good. Now, you need to stay awake."

"A-awake, yeah." You nodded, closing your and feeling Lena's nose rubbing gently against yours. You were incredibly close to each other.

"I'm serious, (Y/N). Don't fall asleep."

"I'm not." You assured her.

Watching as you couldn't keep your eyes open for too long, Lena decided it was best to at least keep you talking.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Cold." You said still shivering.

"Can you feel your toes and fingers?"

You tried moving them. "A b-bit, I think."

"Good. Can you feel this?" You felt Lena as she moved her arms so she could held your hands within hers.

The contrast between you two was abysmal, you felt like a block of ice against a heater. She radiated such warmth and you were grateful you were there with the smartest and kindest woman in the planet or you would have been swimming with the fish.

"Yeah, I can feel it." You said and noticed some of your tremors had stopped.

"Okay, can you feel this?" Lena moved her legs this time, covering yours.

"That too." You felt the chills at that.

"Okay, we're making progress."

"Sorry." You opened your eyes with a pained expression in them. "You shouldn't be worrying about me."

Lena was a bit taken aback by your declaration but reassured you as best as she could. "There's nothing to be sorry for, and as for worrying about you, well, I'll do it gladly every time."

"Every time?" It was your turn to be surprised by her response.

"Yes." She said looking into your eyes. "You may not have noticed but I do worry about you, (Y/N), a lot. Maybe more than I should."

"You do?" You didn't know if your brain had suffered some damage but this conversation was taking an unexpected turn. A great and wonderful unexpected turn you had never imagined was possible for you.

Lena wasn't sure either about where the conversation was going, for someone used to getting things on her own way, she was finding it difficult to express what she wanted you to know. She had accepted your invitation thinking, that if you could spend some time alone together, you would realize how much into you she was. Now, there you were, almost naked under all the blankets she had found in your cabin and trying to get you out of your hypothermia, and you still didn't realize how caring and protective she was towards you.

If that was the case, she had to make a more direct demonstration.

"Yes, (Y/N), I do." She moved one of your hands against her chest, placing your palm where you could feel the beating of her heart. "Can't you feel it?"

Your own heart skipped a bit as you felt her pulse in your hand and your whole body seemed to shiver and not because of the cold. You felt you heart burst with warmth and, as you looked at Lena, you could tell she felt it too. No fire could compare to what you were experiencing and you thought to yourself that, maybe, falling into sub-zero water wasn't so bad at all.

"Yeah, I can." You finally said with a little smile.

[spidernerdsblog]

Wildest Dreams

Pairing: actor! Tom Holland x actress! Reader

Summary : Based on Taylor Swift’s song Wildest dreams. You thought Tom was the love of your life but it was just one of your wildest dreams.

Warnings : 18+,SMUT, mature content, infidelity, angst, tom being a douchebag.

"Today we have with us the Oscar winning renowned actress the one and only Y/N Y/L/N!" The RJ hyped you up. 

"Hello everyone" you spoke on the mic in front of you smiling. 

"Well first of all congratulations Y/N on your big oscar win." 

"Thank you so much. I’m still recovering from it not gonna lie." You chuckle. The RJ asked you a bunch of other questions which you replied cheerfully. 

"So you have been casted to play Morgan Stark in the next part of Marvel Avengers movie." 

"Yes and I am looking forward to it. Being in a Marvel film was always on my wishlist and I can finally tick it off." 

"Do you feel yourself under pressure as you will be continuing a legacy?" 

"It’s definitely a pressure playing Tony Stark’s daughter and living upto the standards of none other than RDJ. Luckily he is personally mentoring me and I think I’ll fare well. I have read the script which I can't reveal much but playing the grown up version of Morgan who is a part of the Avengers will be a lot of fun." 

"Well saying so you are also going to be sharing screen with Tom Holland after a long time. What do you have to say about the rumours  of you being speculated as the possible reason behind his relationship with his fiancee hitting the rocks?" you took a moment before answering the question. 

"Well a lot of things fly in the air we don't catch on everything right? And I have always made it clear that we never dated, we are just friends that's all."

"So you are still single?" 

"And not interested to mingle." You chuckle. 

"Well it was nice to have you with us today, Y/N."

"It was my pleasure. Love you guys bye."

The show ended and you headed out of the office building for the pre production meeting arranged by Marvel with the whole cast. You were sitting in your posh car, the last question of the RJ about your relationship with Tom still spiraling in your mind. You reminisced about one of your past mistakes. Though you wouldn't call it a mistake because you fell for a wrong person but when he left he gave you a life lesson which you will remember in your lifetime that 'nothing lasts forever'. 

It started with a small Instagram follow but who knew it would take you down like that. 

It all happened 2 years ago in a promotional show just like this. Your acting career had just begun and you had managed to create quite a buzz in and around the industry delivering two blockbusters mesmerizing the critics and audiences with your spectacular performance in your three year acting career. You were in a radio show for the promotion of your upcoming movie. The RJs were interviewing you.

"Well Tom Holland was here the other day and we asked who he likes among the upcoming new talents in the industry. He said and we quote that you are cute, sexy and very talented." the lady said. 

"Well what do I say thank you Tom." you giggle shyly. 

"Have you guys ever met?" the other male RJ asked. 

"Not really, though we had a chance to interact during the comic con. But I really admire his work and would love to work with him in future."

"But I have to inform you that he is a little disappointed that he follows you but you never followed him back." the lady jokes. 

"Well I can fix that I guess.'' You took out your phone from your jeans pocket and opened your insta app.

"And here we go, officially following Tom Holland." You said tapping the follow button.

"I hope now you are not upset anymore, Tom." you chuckle.

In less than a month you were signed up for a Netflix movie. It was a rom com and you were casted opposite none other than Tom Holland. The shooting began within two months.

You were on the set sitting in your trailer facetiming your mom. 

"Honey are you eating well?" Your mom asked.

"Yes mom I am." You assured her when you heard a knock as the door of your trailer opened and the person’s head popped in, it was Tom. You waved your hand to usher him in. 

"Five minutes please." You mouthed to him

"It’s okay," he mouthed back sitting on a chair. 

"Who is it?" Your mom asked.

"It's my costar you know him, the guy from spiderman." You inform her.

"Oh the one you have a crush on?" 

"Mom!" You shrieked utterly embarrassed with your mom revealing your secret.

"What? You only said that he is cute." 

"Ok-ok I get it you made your point but I have to go now, I'll talk to you later."

"OK sweetie take care." 

"Yeah bye mom." You ended the call heaving a sigh of relief and turned towards him. 

"Ignore my mom. I just told her that you were cute in the homecoming movie and she just assumed I have a crush on you." 

"Oh that's fine." He gave you a warm smile.

"So what's up?" You chirped.

"Umm just here to talk about the scenes we are going to shoot tomorrow together."

"Oh you mean the sex scenes?"

"Umm yeah." He said uneasiness clearly in his voice.

"Tom Holland nervous about some sex scenes?" You joked.

"No-no it's, it's not like that. I just want to make sure that you are comfortable tomorrow so I just wanted to discuss it beforehand."

"Oh that's really nice of you. Well honestly I'm always nervous before such scenes. Though it's partial nudity but still the scenes are quite passionate and vividly described." 

"Don't worry I'll try my best to make it easy and comfortable for you."

"Thank you Tom."

"Pleasure is all mine." he smiled. 

The next day on the set the director gave you the last minute reading of the scene that you are going to shoot. You and Tom walked in the frame. As per the script you guys play characters who are friends with benefits but both of you grow feelings for each other. When one confronts the other it leads to an angsty moment but soon turns into passionate love making. 

The camera started rolling and as soon as the director said "action!". You both got into your characters and played your parts flawlessly as per the script. 

"Why don’t you find someone who doesn’t hurt you?" You ask

"But I love you, Emma." Tom replies with a soft tone.

"Liam you don’t understand I was never good at this." You say with frustration in your voice.

"What.. talking?" He sarcasms.

"Yeah talking, communicating, relationships.." You were cut off as he captured your lips for a kiss.

"Well neither was I but we can figure it out slowly." his gaze was intense as your eyes were glassy. 

The next thing you did was, crashed your lips to his. It had to be a very messy sloppy one so both of you rolled your tongues into each other’s mouth. You popped open the buttons of his shirt out of desperation and then pushed him onto the bed. Tom plopped on the soft mattress as you got up to straddle him around his waist pulling your sweatshirt off your body revealing your red lacy bra underneath. Tom let out a light gasp it wasn’t to happen but the whole act turned him on as he felt blood rushing down south. You carried on the act like a true professional and leaned on to his face capturing his thin lips. He deepened the kiss holding your face and you kept on grinding on his crotch. The kiss grew heavy then you were suddenly aware of the growing bulge underneath you but you continued anyhow 'he is a human getting aroused is normal' you kept on repeating that in your mind. His hand trailed up your back and unclasped your bra. 

And with the scene coming to an end the director shouted "cut!" 

"Well done you guys." The director praised. You pulled away and got off him as the costume runner handed you your robe to cover you up, you slipped it on and tied it around your body. 

Tom's eyes never left you as you made your way back to your trailer to retouch your makeup and take a rest before the next scene starts. He was always known to be a professional but you made his mind go haywire. You on the other hand could only think about the scene, how you felt his hard on though it wasn't his fault it happens sometimes you reminded yourself. 

After the unit packed up for the day you were on your way back to your car as you heard a car honking behind you. You stopped as the car pulled over and the windows rolled down. 

"Need a ride?" Tom asked sweetly. 

"No thanks, I have my own." You gave a tight lipped smile.

"C'mon it's been a hectic week for both of us we should really blow off some steam and I don't want to get drunk alone too."

"Okay." You gave in breaking into a smile. You sat in the front seat as he drove the car while you texted your manager Mike about your change of plans. 

"So where are we going?" you ask. 

"Just in and about the town.'' everything went silent again before Tom cleared his throat and began. 

"Umm listen Y/N I'm.."

"It's okay Tom it happens sometimes I didn't mind anything." You cut him off saving him and you from  the awkward conversation. He took you to a local pub and had a few drinks together. Later you got back into the car both of you totally buzzed. You were laughing about something as Tom kept staring at you. 

"What?" you ask giggling. What came into his mind you don't know as he just straight up went to grab your face and kissed you, catching you off guard. You pushed him away, bewildered. 

"Tom! What are you doing?!" 

"Sorry, sorry, I-I just couldn't control myself. Ever since I saw you like that you are the only thing in my mind." he rambled. 

"But that doesn't mean you can kiss me."

"Don't tell me you didn't like it." his voice low as he brought his hand to your cheek. 

"Well.." Your words were stuck in your throat as your gaze dropped to his lips and you leaned forward to kiss him again fervently. 

"Your place or mine?" He asked, pulling away gasping. 

"Whichever is close." You said out of breath.

He never drove his car this fast the way he drove tonight to reach his apartment rented by the production company for him. You weren't even completely inside his apartment as he crashed his lips and pushed you against the door. You moaned into the kiss as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. 

You woke up the next morning as the sunlight hit your face squinting your eyes open. You stir on the bed to find yourself tangled in bedsheets and in the arms of Tom.

"Goodmorning, love." His voice husky as he looks down at you with his soft brown eyes. You sit up abruptly holding the sheets to your chest wide eyed as you recollect the memories of last night. Mike your manager had always warned you that you should avoid getting into any kind of relationship with your costars. You are young and new to this industry, a good image is what you need right now. 

"No, no, no this was a mistake. This should have never happened." You repent holding your head. Tom sits up holding your shoulders comfortingly. 

"Hey-Hey it’s okay. Last night was really good.I understand you don't know me well and your career has just begun so you don't want a relationship but that doesn't mean we can't have a little bit of fun." saying so he went for a kiss but you pull away.

"That's not the point Tom! We are colleagues and I want to keep it that way. And this will never happen again. This will be the first and last." You made it clear and left his apartment.

🥀

However Tom made it a mission to tease the hell out of you on set. You would often find him subtly touching you whenever he got the chance, when you were sitting together his fingers lazily dancing around your thighs making you shiver as he flashed you a cocky grin because he is totally aware of what he is doing to you. 

You reached your breaking point on the day you had to shoot another sex scene. The scene required minimal clothing. You would be just wearing your underwear and modesty patches to cover your breasts which will leave little to anyone's imagination. You took off your robe and lied down on the bed underneath the white covers Tom got on top of you in just his boxers. You licked your lips as you saw the prominent outline of his dick through the fabric which only reminded you of the night you slept together. He propped over you on his forearms a pillow kept between you. 

As the director shouted 'action', Tom leaned down to kiss you, dragging his lips down your body, sucking on to your skin as he massaged your breast with his hand. He could feel your nipple harden through the patch as you began to let out small moans as per the script. The heat radiating from his body was so overwhelming you could just think of him railing you to the mattress. Heat pooled between your legs and you were thankful that there is a pillow separating you or else he would easily get to know how wet you are. 

You closed your eyes, hands slipping on to his back letting out fake moans as he carried on rutting his hips on the pillow. Suddenly a chill ran down your spine when you felt two slender fingers brushing near your heat. 

"Did I make you wet, darling?" he whispered, chuckling lowly into your ears. Your breath hitched as you felt your cheeks heat up but you had nothing much to do than just go on with the scene. 

The scene ended as soon as the director said "cut!" And you were more than thankful as you quickly slipped into the robe. But you were hot and bothered as you exchanged glances as you both agreed to an unspoken agreement. 

And a few agonising moments later you find yourself bent down gazing at your flushed out reflection with droopy eyes in the dirty mirror of one of the restrooms on set you both snuck into to relieve your sexual frustration. Your dress bunched up to your waist as Tom thrusted inside you hard and fast. 

"Fuck darling! This feels so better when I actually get to fuck this pretty little pussy instead of wasting my energy humping a damn pillow." He grunted drawing back his hip to slam right into you as you jolted forward trying to keep yourself steady gripping on the edge of the marble.

"Fuck Tom!" you moaned. Your legs felt wobbly; knees on the verge of giving out as Tom’s hands expertly supported you. One of his hands slipped between your thighs rubbing circles stimulating your sensitive bud. You gasped at the added pleasure. 

"Tell me sweetheart who is fucking you so well?" He asked cockily.

"You T-Tom you." you were finding it hard to form proper words.

"Damn right." he chuckles. 

Just then there was a knock on the door. You squeaked in surprise and Tom immediately covered your mouth with his hand. You glared at him through the mirror.

"Miss Y/L/N?" It was your assistant Rebecca. Tom removed his hand from your mouth still going on with his menacing pace.

"What the fuck?!!" You seethed.

"You were being loud." he Whisper yells. 

"Mam are you there?" She asked again.

"Yeah- yeah. What is it?" You stuttered.

"The next shot will be ready in half an hour. You need to go for your makeup." 

"Okay .. ah i’ll be there in a few minutes." You tried to answer as energetically as possible.

"Mam are you okay?" she asked with concern in her voice. 

"Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just-just go I’ll be there." Tom had a smug grin plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes. His eyes darkened dripping with lust as he thrusted deep inside you again, hitting your spot as you moaned loudly but he pulled you back by your neck, capturing your lips messily muffling your moans. You felt him twitch inside you and you knew you weren’t far away. You heard Rebecca's receding footsteps as Tom increased his pace again tipping you off the edge you both came with a loud moan. His head dropped to the crook of your neck panting, brushing his lips on your sensitive skin. You hissed when he pulled out. He stepped away giving you some space to clean up while he chugged the condom in the bin and zipped his pants fixing his shirt.

"I’ll go out first and you come out later." He said running his fingers through his messy hair trying to tame them. You nodded trying your best to fix your dishevelled appearance. 

🥀

This just became a regular thing for you guys sneaking out on the set to end up making out at the most odd places you could ever imagine. Sometimes in your trailers for a quickie. 

One time you were making out at the back of your trailer Tom’s hands were roaming around all over your body as he blurted out of nowhere.

"I love you." You broke the kiss and raised a brow.

"You don’t need to show your fake love to get into my pants." Tom frowned. 

"What? No I do love you Y/N" 

"You’re joking right?" you gave a poker face. 

"No Y/N, ever since I met you I fell for you instantly." 

"Really?" Your eyes welled up in disbelief.

"Yes, love. I love you and will always love you." 

"I love you too." You sealed your lips kissing softly, emotions running high. 

You started to feel his presence even more around you after you confessed your feelings for each other. Your wardrobe now consists of half of his clothes which he leaves behind in your room every time he spends the night with you. He tells you he loves you but he is never there the next morning for you. He isn't ready to acknowledge the relationship between you because he says it isn't a good time. You are always dodging the prying eyes of the media. 

Yes you were young, naive and trusted people way too easily that is why you didn't see the obvious red flags in your relationship. 

🥀

The last scene for the movie was to be shot outdoors near a cliff. The location was picturesque as the last scene was shot of you and Tom kissing each other. After the shooting ended the director officially announced the wrapping up of the film. The crew hugged each other and indulged into a little celebration at the location itself. You went near the cliff soaking in the natural beauty reminiscing about how this was the best summer of your life where you found the love of your life when Tom walked up to you from behind. He brushed aside your hair placing a necklace with a heart shaped pendant around your neck. You let out a light gasp surprised heart swelling up at his loving gesture. 

"This-this is beautiful Tom." 

"I know, love. Only for the most beautiful woman. This will always remind you of our love."

He wrapped his arms around you as you overlooked the cliff watching the sunset with an orangish yellow hue. His phone buzzed as he took it out from his pocket and saw the caller id. 

"I need to take this." He excused himself to take the call. You fiddled with your necklace admiring it and smiling to yourself. One of the runners brought you a bottle of beer you took it and the boy was about to go and give the other bottle to Tom but you stopped him. 

"I’ll give it to him." You took the bottle from him and made your way where Tom was busy talking to whoever called over the phone. 

"Yeah bye love you. Miss you too." You caught the last bit of his conversation. 

"Girlfriend?" You joked startling him. For a moment he felt his breath caught in his throat, he gulped hard before chuckling nervously. 

"I’ll be so damned to cheat on you. It was my cousin. Have to go back home, some urgent family work has come up." 

"You will leave tomorrow only?" You pout.

"Sorry love." He brings his hand to your cheek.

"What about I go with you? I always wanted to meet your family, I mean my future family." Your eyes sparkled. 

"Uh i don’t think that’s  a good idea since we are not public yet." he fumbled. 

"So let’s go public. You love me, I love you, what's the problem?" 

"Ofcourse, love but not this time. Once I return from London we will make our relationship official I promise." 

"What if you find a hot brit chick and forget about me?" you pout. 

"I can never forget you. This face is worth remembering." he cradled your face lovingly. 

"I really want to spend the last few moments with you before I go back."

"I'll keep my door unlocked.'' You winked.

At night Tom stood in front of your hotel room and as you had said the door was unlocked he smiled to himself sneaking into your room quietly. He was startled as you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him in pinning him against the door pressing your lips to his. 

"I’m gonna miss you so much." you say breathing heavily.

"Me too darling." 

Pretty soon all your clothes were discarded as you now lay on your bed spread out for him while he pounds into you relentlessly. 

"Oh fuck darling you always feel so good around me." He praises thrusting deeper inside you. You grab onto his back wrapping your legs around him. His phone buzzes several times on the bedside table but he was too invested in the pleasure he was getting being buried deep inside you so he decides to ignore it. 

"So gorgeous." He purrs trailing his lips down your chest sucking on to your hardened nipples. Your body arches at his touch, your one hand reaching  down to rub your clit.

"Yes rub that clit for me." He demands. You clench hard around him as you both reach your own highs. He collapsed on top of you burying his head in the crook of your neck as he pressed a soft kiss on your shoulder before pulling out and rolled over to your side. You turned to him resting your head on his chest. His phone buzzes again and he reaches to receive it but ends the call abruptly seeing the number. 

"Who is it?" 

"Oh it's no one, darling." He said, stroking your hair gently and pecking on your forehead wrapping you in his warm embrace. You nuzzle your face in his chest listening to his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

You woke up to an empty bed next morning. Tom had an early morning flight so maybe he didn’t want to wake you up you thought, giving yourself false hopes.

First two weeks he used to FaceTime you daily but soon it got limited to plain simple texts and suddenly all of it stopped. Two months went by and you didn't hear anything from Tom but still you kept your hopes high telling yourself he must be busy.

🥀

The time of the premiere for your film was approaching and you were over the moon with just the thought that you were finally going to meet him. At the night of the premier you were dolled up in one of your designer dresses, you decided to ditch your expensive diamond necklace to wear the necklace Tom gave you before leaving. You reached the venue and stepped out of your car as your eyes were flooded with the flashes from the cameras, you gracefully walked the red carpet a wide smile adorning your face. But it didn't last long. 

You heard the crowd going frenzy chanting the name of the person you loved the most in this world. You turned around to look at him and froze. He wasn't alone, he had a woman in his arms as they smiled at the cameras. Your heart clenched when you saw the big rock shining on her ring finger. He got engaged and he brought in his fiancee to make the news public. So this was his emergency family work in London.

Tom looked around smiling when his eyes found you standing at a distance with a hardened gaze. His gaze dropped to his feet as a sense of guilt kicked in. You were disgusted and filled with hatred he left you, no he fucking lied to you and was cheating on you this entire time. You never wanted a relationship in the first place. He was the one who professed his love for you and you being the lovesick idiot believed him. 

The cast was made to stand together for a group photo. You stood to the left of him. He couldn't dare to meet your eyes. 

The movie began as you took your seats and tried focusing on the screen. Tom frequently stole glances of you as memories came flooding in. You caught him glancing at you and you could no longer take this betrayal anymore. He had imagined of getting married one day and starting a family but guess what it was true but just not with you. You informed Mike sitting beside you that you aren't feeling well, he arranged for you to leave. You got up in the middle of the movie and ran out of the auditorium. Tom saw that went after you. 

"Y/N wait! Please don't go. Let me explain!" he shouted desperately. 

You didn't listen as you ran towards your car with tears in your eyes. You got into it and drove past him as you saw his reflection in the rear view mirror desperately calling out to you. Tears pricked your eyes as you saw the necklace he gave you as a token of love dangling down your neck. You held the necklace and pulled it hard breaking the chain. You took a look at it for one last time and threw it out of the window in rage. You wailed inside the car crying your heart out. That night you made up your mind to only focus on your career no more distractions or false attachments. Your hard work has paid off because two years later you are now an internationally acclaimed star with a strong image, a role model for many and your fans adore you.

Though after that dreadful night you received a string of messages of apologies from Tom which went on for at least a month but you left all of them on seen.  Recently he had started texting you again mostly they read 'I miss you', 'can we meet?' He even went on a liking spree on your Instagram account which fueled the rumors of you two possibly getting together. You decided to ignore all of it because you always wanted him to suffer the way you did. You wanted the memories of you to haunt him for eternity like a curse he can't get rid of. 

Your car reaches Marvel's office as your bodyguard opens the door and you step out of the car you strut past the gates through the hallways to the room where the meeting was to be held. Your assistant walking by your side briefing you out about your today's schedule. You entered the room to find some of the big names in Hollywood already present and there was Tom too. This is the first time in two years you are finally meeting face to face. His eyes lit up instantly seeing you as he made his way to you enthusiastically. 

"Hi Y/N" 

"Oh hey Tom." you greeted him with a smile. 

"So how are you?" he began but you didn't answer as your eyes were trained on the person behind him, a handsome blonde with icy blue eyes walking right your way.

"Hi Harrison Osterfield." He introduced himself.

"I know, you are playing my love interest and I must say you are totally worth it." You giggled. 

"Well it’s my honor to be your love interest." he chuckled. 

Tom just stood there as a mere spectator watching his best friend and you flirt with each other. You're totally lost in him, the only thought reeling in your mind.

Fuck he’s gorgeous….. 

..................................................................................

(A/N : This crap came out of nowhere. Will I be writing a Harrison osterfield x Reader fic based on 'gorgeous'? who knows🤷‍♀️) Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Forever taglist: @starcoadrienette2​ @hollanddolanfangirl​

[strawberrywritingfiction]

Lip Sync Battle Birthday Bash

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Synopsis: Zendaya incorporates a lip sync battle into Tom’s birthday party, only you were unaware you’re featured in it

A/N: To celebrate Tom’s birthday. Idk what this is, but it’s something 😭

Also, If you happen to not have heard of Tom Holland’s Lip Sync Battle, I suggest you watch it immediately: Tom’s Lip Sync Battle

Warnings: ⚠️ lil sugestive ig but mostly fluff

masterlist

^^^

Tom’s birthday called for a fun party. Only involving close friends, of course. No surprises were in store. That is- until Zendaya became ringleader of an impromptu lip sync battle. Which you agreed to be part of, assuming it would be simple. Nothing too extravagant.

“Z, WHAT is this?” You enquired with a rather harsh whisper, as you held the shiny material and fishnets in your hands. Z had swept you away from the pleasant party you had created, and brought you into the other room, in order to cultivate her devious plan. Zendaya only grinned mischievously at your response. “Listen, it's going to be girls vs boys, OK? Only, I told Tom that he would go up with Harrison, Sam, Tuwaine and Jacob, and just bust out some moves to any song of their choice. Little do they know….” Zendaya whispered excitedly, “we have a fully choreographed and costumed routine.” She grinned wildy. “Also, do you have any umbrellas around, perchance?” Zendaya eagerly looked around the room.

“Zendaya! I can’t do this! Just you and me??? I don’t even know Tom’s old dance-” you rambled.

“We have Harry too, he asked some questions when he saw some fishnets hanging out of my bag, so I had no choice but to recruit him. And, if you don’t know the dance for sure, follow along with me, or make something up. But I am sure you’ve seen that video a little more than you let on.” Zendaya laughed, only earning an eye roll from you.

“Come on, y/n, this will be my revenge! Do you know just how many times Tom has rubbed in that he won that stupid thing?” 

“Fine,” You groaned, “I’ll just stand behind you during your little performance,” you sneered.

“Nuh uh, you’re front and center, after all, your Tom’s leading lady,”

You began to persist, but Z grasped your arm, walking you back into the party.

There were only the boys, watching some football and drinking beers. But the two of you were still given some glances. You just managed to hide the costume behind your back, before anyone could take notice. Aside from the few birthday balloons hanging around, it felt like a normal weekend. Jacob and Zendaya had flown in to celebrate Tom’s birthday, and there had been a large group dinner the previous night. Hence why the birthday itself was rather low-key.

“Ladies and gents, we will now be moving this party outside, if you will!” Zendaya yelled to the group.

^^^

The party moved outside, and lawn chairs were splayed across the grass, facing the slightly raised patio at the back of the house. You stood next to Tom as the two of you overlooked both Harry and Zendaya plugging in a speaker and discussing their performance in hushed tones.

“What are they doing?” Tom mumbled to you.

“I’m not sure,” you whispered, still confused by the whole affair.

Harry held his hands up and faced the rest of the group yelling “alright, alright, we are going to do a celebratory lip sync battle. The teams will be me, Zendaya, and y/n, up against the rest of you, Tom, Haz, Sam, Tuwaine and Jacob.

“That’s bold of you mate, three versus five?” Tom countered. The boys were always up to games, and were never not competitive.

“Originally it was just gonna be girls, Tom, but your brother here hopped onto my performance,” Zendaya sneered in defense. “Now the rest of you, choose what song you're gonna compete with.”

Tom huffed, and left you with a brief kiss on the cheek, as he joined a huddle with the boys. You joined Zendaya and the two of you watched their huddled discussion. “Idiots.” she said, and leant into you, whispering, “They don’t know what they’re in for.” You laughed.

The boys recovered from their huddle and Harrison proudly spoke on behalf of  the group, yelling, “Courtesy of Tom, we are going to be performing, “My Heart will Go On.”

Both you and Zendaya booed them, in opposition to their cheers. Then, they set up their song and performed. The whole charade was comical. Tuwaine was held within Tom’s grasp, arms spread apart, in recreation of the ‘Titanic pose.’ Sam and Jacob exhibited some graceful dancing around the two, and Harrison dramatically mouthed the words, beer bottle in hand, in place of a microphone. It was obvious the boys were rather intoxicated, as they idiotically danced, and swayed standing up. They earned a few cheers, but most of you erupted in laughter in response to their performance.

“You ready,” Z asked.

“No.” 

Z groaned, but turned to the rest of the party and shouted, “Boys we need a minute of preparation,” to which they responded with a chorus of ‘ooh’s

Zendaya dragged you to the nearest bathroom, where the two of you got dressed, in a pretty close replica of what Tom wore for his performance. Zendaya then sat you down and applied some makeup on you, followed by herself, and Harry. You put a black haired wig on Harry, just like the one Tom wore, and he couldn’t help but begin to regret agreeing to perform alongside you two. Your laughter at his appearance faltered when Tom rapped on the bathroom door, “You idiots ready yet?” He said to the three of you.

“No, Tom! Just sit and wait on the lawn,” Zendaya yelled, irritated. You laughed, and Tom groaned before walking away. After your looks were completed, Zendaya peeked out the door, making sure you were all in the clear. It was basically dark out, and the backyard was only illuminated by a few small lights. “Ok y/n, Harry and I will walk out first, then when the chorus hits, you join us. Ooh, and stand between us, you know, you a little further up, Harry and I spread behind you, like a triangle, ok?” Zendaya rambled, “Tom, cue the music!!!” She yelled. You peeked out the back door and saw the boys sitting on the lawn chairs, Tom with his phone in hand, pushing play on the music.

Both Harry and Zendaya walked outside, in view of the group, who erupted in cheers and idiotic laughter. Harry chucked a flashlight at the boys, which Sam caught, and angled up at the both of them. Harry began mouthing a part of the song. And all the boys began doubling over in laughter. Tom, on the contrary, had his head in his hands, in embarrassment. 

Umbrella in hand, you awkwardly walked out, sporting the fishnets, as the chorus played and all the boys below you broke out in a fit of even more laughter and cheers. Some pulling out phones to record. 

Tom sat in shock as the rest of the boys laughed at him. His face went a little red as he watched you, whilst you waltzed around the umbrella in laughter alongside Harry and Zendaya. Harry received the most laughter, however, as he awkwardly danced, an umbrella held over his head.

The dance continued, and Tom tensed as you walked over to him whilst the lyrics continued to play. The other boys erupted in a chorus of laughter and cheers when you danced in front of Tom, just as he approached Zendaya in his own performance. It was evident he enjoyed the entire fiasco, but was flushed with embarrassment.

You retreated back to the patio and continued to dance, alongside Harry and Zendaya, still receiving cheers from the boys, however less climatic with a lack of rainfall in comparison to Tom’s.

The lyrics ended and the music stopped. The round of cheers, claps and laughter from the boys was immense, and Zendaya engulfed you in a hug, the two of you out of breath from fits of laughter.

“THAT’S ONE ALL HOLLAND!” Zendaya snickered and yelled in the direction of your boyfriend.

He only responded with a “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” still rather pink in the face as the two of you walked down to the lawn and joined the rest of the crew. Both you and Zendaya earned a pat on the back from the boys, but Harry was ridiculed immensely. Harrison stole his wig and ran around in it. Tuwaine and Jacob smothered the poor boy in tackles. And Sam just pointed and laughed at his brother. Although, Harry managed to plant kisses on both Tuwaine and Jacob, who now had remnants of red lipstick smeared across their cheeks.

Overall, the performance was a success as you were given a standing ovation, and both you and Zendaya bowed gratefully. Tom whistled, two fingers against his lips.

^^^

[smallraindrops-blog]

A Road To Somewhere.

For prompt: road trip

Hypnos/male!reader

Thanatos/Zagreus/Meg in the background.

5.7k total, link to part two at the end.

Warnings: some sexual stuff are talked about but the most that happens is kissing and cuddling. Jokes about cannibalism as well. Alcohol uses. No beta.

Summary: Why talk about your feelings with your childhood best friend when you can just go on a road trip?

A/N: sorry for going silent, I was dealing with some medical issues on top of helping my partner with stuff.

To the Anon who requested this, I'm sorry about the wait, I hope you like this and feel free to always hit me for another request!

At three in the morning, your phone rang. 

You groaned as you rolled across your bed. and you squinted at the brightness of your phone. 

Hypnos' photo flashed on the screen, the one where he stole your letterman jacket to nap in on the school bus that Zagreus had sent it to you. And if you kept the photo five years after high school, well that is your business and nobody else's.

You hesitated, not sure you want to talk to him right now. After that night, the only thing you and Hypnos traded was polite, almost cold texts. not your usual meme or lazy chatting about whatever. But something about the picture of Hypnos' sleeping face pushed you to respond. 

You swiped the green button.

"You are coming with me." Hypnos said, or rather slurred.

You covered your face,"Hypnos, dude. Are you drunk right now?"

"You- you said you have never seen the ocean right?" Hypnos asked, ignoring your question.

"Where are you? I am coming to get you." You turned on your lamp, looking for a pair of jeans to wear.

"No- no." Hypnos said firmly and very drunkenly. "Y/N, dude. I'm fine. I'm at my shitty apartment." Hypnos paused, "You know, the one where my brother hooked up with Meg. And Zagreus. At the same time. Which is really effing weird for me."

"I - Hypnos-" you tried to think of what to say. The said incident happened over a little month ago and Hypnos had the misfortune of walking in at the wrong time. Which of course because Hypnos got his heart broken by Meg lead up to Hypnos trying to hook up with you to get over her.

"Look, you always said you wanted to see the ocean right?" Hypnos yawned, which you took as a good sign. Hopefully it means your dumb best friend will pass out soon and not ruin his liver for rest of the day.

"Yeah, what of it?" You asked, frustrated at Hypnos for doing this to himself and to you.

"Road trip!" Hypnos dragged out the words with a laugh. "I will be picking you up tomorrow. Love you bestie."

"Hypnos wait no, we can't just leave." You said. You waited for a response, "Hypnos?" You asked worriedly.

A snore came through the phone and you sighed. You turned off the lamp and laid back down, listening to Hypnos' deep breathing.

You stared at the ceiling, and tried not to think about the last time Hypnos got this drunk. Or about that night or how Hypnos acted like nothing happened the next day.

You rolled over to face your phone and closed your eyes.

You will just stay on the line in case Hypnos wakes up.

💤

"You can't be serious, Hypnos." You said as he went through your clothes, uncaring of any boundaries you may have.

But honestly with Hypnos, you had long lost any boundaries. You knew you should actually try to enforce some but you craved just being near him.

"I am! I need to get away for a bit and you told me you were taking a week off right? And it starts today or last night technically." Hypnos held up a lime green shirt and made a face at it.

"Yes for a staycation, I don't have extra money for a motel or anything like that." You replied, and took the shirt away to place it back on its hanger.

"It's my treat, Y/N." Hypnos leaned on you, his head on your shoulder. You tried not to notice how warm he was against you or his big golden puppy dog eyes. "Come on, a free trip away with your best friend aka me aka the best thing ever with your favorite person ever-" Hypnos rambled.

"Fine, only because you said you will pay for everything." You sighed, You hated how hard it was to say no to him.

Hypnos cheered and pulled you into a bear hug. You savored the warmth despite not wanting to.

You just needed a vacation too. To clear your head. And who knows, you and Hypnos could finally get back to being normal.

💤

Hypnos was in the driver's seat as you closed the truck and joined him in the car. A pen dangled from his teeth as his golden eyes flicked across the map. He glanced at you as you strapped in.

"It will be a two days drive if we only stop when we need to. That gives us three days at the beach or wherever else we end up doing." Hypnos took the pen out and marked a couple spots on the map.

"Couldn't we just use our phone GPS?" You asked.

"Nope, the place I'm taking you isn't a normal public beach and we have to drive through some mountains and mountains always win over gps." Hypnos pointed the pen at you. "Always." He said in a mock doom voice.

You rolled your eyes, and with a finger pushed the pen out your face. "Alright but if we get lost in the mountains. I call first dibs on eating you."

"Ha, jokes on you, bestie. I got almost no tender fat on me. So enjoy gnawing on my worthless bones." Hypnos crackled as he started the car. He tossed the map in your lab and peeled out of the driveway.

His deft fingers quickly found some music as Tom Petty sang through the radio.

Hypnos sang along badly. You covered up your smile, it feel good just near him again even if you didn't want to admit it.

Within minutes, Hypnos had weaved into the midmorning traffic. But even with the traffic, you already feel a little lighter.

💤

The first day of the drive went surprisingly well, even with traffic for the first hour. The skies were a vivid blue with fat, lazy clouds that casted shadows across the land.

Hypnos had the windows rolled down, one arm out of the window and music blasting. His shades should have made him look like a frat boy but you actually liked how they looked with his messy white curls and dark red shirt.

You kept your mouth shut and just watched the landscape change from suburbia to the fields dotted with cows and horses.

It was the most peace you had felt in a long while even with the elephant in between you and Hypnos.

It wasn't until twilight had followed you to the motel that the problems started.

"Is that a permanently closed sign?" Hypnos asked flatly, his shades resting on his head.

You nodded, "I had a feeling the trip started a little too well."

You and Hypnos both stared at the sign, the red and white words mocked you.

"I knew google was lying to me." Hypnos murmured.

"We can just sleep in the car, Hypnos." You followed him as he turned back. "We probably shouldn't drive anymore tonight."

Hypnos shook his head, "Nope, we would get murder so fast." He snapped his fingers to make his point. He threw an arm around your shoulders and guided you back to the car. "Come on, I bet there's another place just up ahead."

"And if there is not?" You asked, noticing how easily you fit next to him.

"There will be." Hypnos said confidently.

At your doubtful look, he said cheerfully,

"Or we could just get murder in a much nicer area."

💤

It was almost an hour before you saw the faint vacancy light just peeking behind the trees.

You gasped, "There! Do you see it?"

"Yeah, I see it." Hypnos replied, perking up. The rundown motel looked like someone's idea of what an old western inn looked like without actually never seeing one before.

But after driving for an extra hour and half, it looked like heaven.

Hypnos pulled up in the first empty spot he found which was plenty of.

"Stay here, keep an eye on the car. Don't get murdered." Hypnos said as he locked the car up. He only looked back once as he entered the building.

You slumped in your seat, exhaustion overtaken you. Your phone buzzed in your hand, Zagreus's name popped up.

'Is Hypnos with you??'

You stared down at the text, why is Zagreus asking you?

'Yeah, why?' you replied.

Immediately, Zagreus responded.

'He hasn't responded to any of our texts or calls.'

In a separate text, 'Is he okay? I knew my talk with him was rough but I didn't expect this. '

You bit your lip, just realizing that you haven't heard Hypnos' phone go off all day. Normally, Hypnos' phone was glued in his hand and he was always constantly texting or playing a game.

You looked up, making sure Hypnos was still in the building.

You replied, 'I think he just needs a break. I will let you know if anything happens but maybe just give him some breathing room. Also what talk?'

Three dots appeared and disappeared a few times before Zagreus' response came.

'No, I know. We just wanted to make sure he wasn't alone. Thanks.'

You rubbed your face, unsure what to make of the texts and that Hypnos, a known phone addict, hasn't been on his phone all day. And that Zagreus didn't bother to tell you what 'talk' he had with Hypnos.

You looked back up and saw Hypnos walking back a grin on his face. When your eyes met his, he waved the roomcard and a plastic bag triumphantly.

You pushed your worries aside for now, Hypnos will talk to you when he is ready.

💤

"Uhh, dude. There is only one bed." You said blankly when Hypnos turned the lights on. All the room had was a single hotel bed and a little table with two chairs. The whole area looked like it never left the seventies.

"And a sofa." Hypnos pointed out as he flopped down on it. The sofa creaked loudly as if threatening to snap in half. "I can sleep on anything, remember?"

"If you are sure." You grabbed the plastic bag from the floor as you sat down on the bed.

You dumped the goods on the bed. There was a healthy mix of spicy ramen bowls, candy bars and cans of soda.

You picked out the one you knew Hypnos liked and set on making dinner.

The sofa kept creeking each time Hypnos twitched or even breath. Hypnos' eyes were close but there was a tension to his body that kept him looking truly relaxed.

You debated on telling him that Zagreus had reached out to you but the tight frown on his face kept you from saying anything.

The microwave gave a high pitch beep and you quickly pulled out the ramen and placed the hot bowl on the table. "Hey, Hypnos. Soup on." You told him as you got your bowl ready.

"Oh. Thanks. Wanna have a soda?" Hypnos asked.

You thanked him as you dug into your own dinner and honestly the cheap ramen was the best thing you tasted after not getting lunch during the drive.

Hypnos was unusually quiet during dinner and while getting ready for bed. You couldn't help noticing that Hypnos never once picked up his phone.

Hypnos yawned and sat on the sofa much more carefully yet the beast still creaked in warning.

You sighed, there was no way you or him would sleep with all that creaking.

"Hypnos, just come to bed. I think it's a queen so we got plenty of room." You told him as you got under the covers. You met his gaze, his eyes bright even with the dark circles under them.

"Okay." He agreed softly. He gave you a look that you ignored as he joined you. He turned off the lights. "Good night, Y/N."

You rolled on your side, back facing Hypnos. "Good night." You yawned widely, already halfway to sleep.

💤

You didn't quite wake up all the way, not at first. You blinked at the wall, small cracks in the blinds allowed for small rays of sunlight to break though. It made the motel room feel cozy even with the ugly decor.

There was an arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders and you sank into its hold with a sigh.

Your eyes closed before your brain realized that you could feel another body pressed against your back, legs tangled together.

You snapped awake, your body went rigid and you heard Hypnos grumbled against your nape.

You relaxed, letting out a breath when you remembered Hypnos was in bed with you. Hypnos, during sleepovers when you were children, always ended up clinging on to you.

It was almost nice, a return to a simpler time. Almost.

It was a very different experience when you both were adults. You flushed when Hypnos pressed a little harder against your body, a pleased, sleepy hum rumbled in his chest.

You could feel him pressed against your lower back and damnit, your traitor of a body was responding. You squeezed your eyes shut, flushed from shame and want.

Your mind flashed back to the last time you allowed Hypnos this close.

You could still remember how he pushed you into his dark bedroom and kissed you again and again. How it felt being under him on his bed. How you almost let him have more.

And you knew you wouldn't survive if Hypnos acted just like he did the morning after.

With the small strength you were able to find, you pulled out of his hold or rather you tried to.

His arm went tight and kept you in the bed, "Where are you going so early?" His sleep rough voice mumbled against your skin.

You ignored the goosebumps he caused and you sighed annoyed. "Come on, you're being a jerk. I need to go get ready for the trip."

"Hmm, we drove more than we planned. We still have some time." Hypnos murmured, clearly going back to sleep. You grabbed the blanket with your free arm and yanked it off the both of you.

Hypnos yelped at the sudden cold and let you go. You darted out the bed and grinned at the scowl Hypnos had. You tossed the blanket over his face and walked away. "Early birds get the worm Hypnos!" You called out as you headed to the bathroom.

You bit back a laugh at the loud groan Hypnos made.

💤

After a quick stop for coffee and pancakes with bacon which Hypnos immediately drowned in syrup much to your disgust of the sheer amount of sugar, you were back on the road.

After an hour of staring out the window at patches of woods between the farmlands, you turned to look at Hypnos.

"What is it about this place that made you pick it? I looked at the map, we could get to the ocean quicker if we went along the other route. " You thought for a moment, "And you know, not to have to drive past the mountains."

"Yeah, if you want to see what everyone else sees and deal with the crowds." Hypnos scoffed. He pulled his shades down a bit to look at you, his windblown curls bounced with the movement.

You prayed he didn't notice your blush.

"Also my mom told me about this place a million times. Trust me, it is going to be worth the wait." And with that, Hypnos focused back on driving.

You turned back to the open window, silently hating yourself for still being attracted to him.

"Hey- is that a cow?" Hypnos asked, already slowing down. You looked down the road and saw the animal. You couldn't help the laugh that came out. "Yeah it is."

The stray cow stared down at the car. It was apparently unconcerned about being hit as it chewed on the grass in its mouth.

Hypnos pressed down on the horn repeatedly and long. The cow kept chewing on its bit of grass, blinking slowly.

"Dumb cow. It knows what it is doing." Hypnos muttered.

You laughed again, "I think that is an oxymoron."

Hypnos scowled and waved his hands at the cow whose tongue had found its nose.

"Well, what bright ideas do you have, Y/N?"

You looked into the bag of snacks down by the footrest. And pulled out a bag of barbecue chips.

"I'm going to lure it out of the road, first chance you get, drive past."

Hypnos pulled his shade down, an eyebrow crocked.

You shook the bag at his doubtful look.

Hypnos' eyes narrowed, eyes sharp and calculating. "That won't work."

"Oh?" You raised a brow. "And why not?"

"Those are barbecue chips, I'm pretty sure even that dumb thing know that smell. And when it smells the barbecue, it will just run you over enraged about the chips."

You leaned toward him, "Wanna make a bet?"

He matched your lean, a bright glint in his eyes. "Sure. If I win, you have to agree to everything I say until we get to the hotel."

"Fine." You agreed. "And if I get the cow out of the way, you can only speak in moos until we get to the hotel."

"Deal." He leaned back into his seat. "Easiest win ever."

You scoffed at him as you got out. "Gee, thanks for believing in me."

You stared down the cow who merely blinked at you.

Hypnos poked his head out the window, laughing "Hey Y/N, when it's moving, start running!"

You shushed him and crinkled the bag at the cow. It took a wary step forward and you opened the bag and it took a sniff.

The cow immediately tried to bite the bag but you took several steps and it followed you. You couldn't stop your smirk at Hypnos' outraged face. "Good cow." You cooed. "Good cow."

You took several steps back into the tall grass and dumped the chips on the ground.

The moment the cow started eating the chips on the ground, you took off like a shot and almost fell into your seat. You barely had a chance to close the door before Hypnos drove off.

You pulled your seatbelt on and waited, a huge grin on your face.

When Hypnos refused to say anything or even look at you, you poked him in his cheek.

"Hypnos." You called his name in a sing-songy tone. "I won the bet. Hypnos. Hypnos." You poked him with each word. There was an evil, childish part of you enjoying this too much.

Hypnos batted your hand away. "Moo fucking moo." He replied sourly.

You playfully frowned, "I don't think cows can say fucking."

"Oh my god."

"They don't say that either."

Part Two

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

sleeping on the blacktop

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: angst, descriptions of a car accident, blood, gore, mentions of death, vomiting, medical terminology (that i know absolutely nothing about !! i am not a doctor or an emt—almost all of my knowledge is from an anatomy class or tv so—don’t come for me pls), my ramblings about fate and free will, i also gave the baby a name (sorry if you don’t like it :( i just hate having y/d/n, ya know? too much work)

word count: 8.5k

synopsis: while harry is away on tour, his wife and baby get into a car accident

author’s note: please, be mindful of the warnings and don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything mentioned and sorry for the sort of rushed ending... other than that, i hope you enjoy! xx all the love

masterlist

—

“You don’t need to do that,” Anne says from behind her, and Y/N flinches, nearly dropping a plate. She got lost in her thoughts, staring out the window in Anne’s kitchen.

“You cooked. It’s the least I can do,” she says. Anne grabs a rag and dries some of the dishes. Gemma is keeping Rhiannon occupied in the next room, and from the peals of laughter, it’s the happiest she’s been in days. Y/N sighs, wiping her pruned hands on a paper towel. If she’s being honest, she’s not doing too well; Rhia has had a hard time adjusting to not having Harry around all the time, causing a varied sleep schedule and more bouts of fussiness in general, and Y/N struggles keeping up.

“How’re you doing?”

Y/N hesitates. She contemplates lying. She doesn’t need one more person worrying for her, and she doesn’t want people to think that she can’t take care of her own child by herself. Harry already worries enough, even though she’s assured him many times that he doesn’t need to be.

She knows that he feels guilty for not being there all the time, but she would never force him to stop touring and doing what he loves, partly because she’s afraid he’ll resent her. Despite him being across an entire ocean, she never feels like he is far; he’s always willing to stop anything when she calls, and he tries his hardest to talk with her twice a day. She always keeps him as involved as possible, sending daily updates and photos.

“It’s tough,” she admits, “but it’s getting better, no need to worry about me.” She offers Anne a weak smile.

“Can’t help it,” she says, pinching her cheeks lightly.

Noticing the dimming sky, the sun sinking below the line of trees in the yard, Y/N sighs.

“We should probably go,” she mutters, slipping into the next room. Despite how tired she is, she can’t help the smile that takes over her face when Rhiannon looks up at her, showing her gums.

“Time to go, bug,” she says, light and lilting. Rhia kicks her legs, making her almost lose her balance. She’s too confident for her own good, like her father; she’s only just started sitting up on her own and thinks she can wiggle around without falling.

“You sure you’re okay to drive, love?” Anne asks from behind her. Y/N rolls her eyes, yet smiles fondly at her protectiveness.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only a few minutes away.”

Ever since Harry left for tour, Y/N has been staying in their lake cottage to be closer to Anne. It’s only a quick 20 minute drive away, which has been helpful during the days when Y/N needed to catch up on sleep, and Anne is always happy to help. She didn’t like to do that very often, feeling like she was taking advantage of her mother-in-law.

The cottage was a cute little thing, perfect for just the two of them, and Y/N was glad to get out of their shared home; it was too big and empty for just her and Rhia. Harry was always able to liven up any place they were at, but now that he’s gone, it felt hollow and dismal.

“You know you’re welcome to stay here. I’ve got plenty of room,” Anne tries to convince her one last time. As much as Y/N appreciated her worrying, she didn’t want to impose, and she’s sure that Anne wouldn’t want to listen to a fussy baby, even though she would deny it to the end of her days.

Y/N puts Rhia in her coat with little resistance, which is surprising, but she only had a short little nap that afternoon, and they had a busy day.

“I know, Anne, but I don’t want to intrude,” Y/N says. “Besides, Rhia sleeps better in our bed, and you need all the sleep you can get, don’t ya?” She tickles her daughter’s little bloated belly, making her giggle sweetly. Once she’s strapped in, the baby stretches and tries to put Y/N’s fingers in her mouth.

“You know I worry about you,” Anne sighs, kneeling next to Y/N.

“No need to worry,” Y/N smiles. Anne tucks the woven green blanket under Rhiannon’s legs. It’s the same blanket Harry had when he was a baby, barely held together with a few threads and love. Y/N stands, hoisting the carrier up to her hip.

“Call me when you get home, yeah?”

“Course,” she says, pressing a kiss to Anne’s cheek.

When they’re settled in the car, Anne stays out on the porch, watching them until they’re safely on the road, offering a wide smile and an air kiss. Y/N is so thankful to have her shoulder to lean on.

It’s a clear night, which Y/N is thankful for, no fog or rain, which isn’t an often occurrence. She stops at a sign, brakes squealing slightly. She stays there for a second, feeling the familiar burn of exhaustion behind her eyes. She rests her forehead against the steering wheel.

“Da, da,” Rhiannon mumbles. Y/N reaches behind her, barely able to reach her on the opposite side of the back seat, and she grabs onto her fingers.

“I know, peach,” Y/N sighs, “Miss daddy, too.”

She never considered how fragile life could be until she met Harry, not in the sense that death is an imminent and constant force, more in the sense that everything, her goals, her view on life, and her priorities, shifted when she met him. He became her influence, and she was willing to go through hell or high water just to be with him.

In summation, it takes all but five seconds for your life to completely change, for better or for worse.

There are dozens upon dozens of tiny events that build up and push you toward that one big moment that will change your life. Nothing is set in stone; different choices lead you down different paths, and your paths are constantly changing, either for better or worse, and slowly but surely, you’ll finally reach the top of that mountain. Every choice you questioned, every sacrifice you made, will come together in due time, just know that you’re working toward a greater purpose.

Y/N has never been a big believer in fate, that everything is beyond your control and that everything is already set in stone, but perhaps there is some truth to it. Fate could have pushed her to leave home when she was young. Fate could have put her on a safe and stable path when she went to university that landed her a good job when she was fresh out of her internship, and fate could have brought Harry into her life.

But she will never claim fate as a sole guide to her life. Fate is not responsible for her success nor her mistakes; that was all because of her hard work and integrity, her youth and ignorance. To her, fate is simply an excuse. People want to put blame on something, and when things seem out of their control or when they make bad decisions, they don’t feel quite as guilty. They’re willing to take credit for good things that happen but won’t when it affects them negatively.

Say, perhaps, that fate brought Y/N to that intersection, then maybe it was fate that planted the trees that obscured her vision; perhaps, it was fate that made the lights in the post go out that evening.

If so, fate has a twisted sense of humor.

If not, why wouldn’t fate give her any time to react before the impact?

How could fate be so cruel?

—

Working as an EMT, there are always certain risks you accept when you are on the clock; not only are you surrounded by an unbelievable pressure, there is always the ominous cloud looming overhead, a thin thread between life and death threatening to break at any moment, and it’s your job to keep them stable until they arrive at the hospital.

Not too hard, right?

Being able to save people from the brink of death and reuniting families makes almost everything worth it, but there are always scenes that stick with you for the rest of your life, and for Leslie Greene, this is one of them.

What stands out the most is the sound of a crying baby.

She’s seen some very horrific accidents: cars that have been reduced to nothing more than a ball of cheap scrap metal, with blood coating the shattered glass, to DOA’s, where the impact made them look unrecognizable. She has seen a lot of unspeakable things and had a lot of good people die on her watch.

But never has she ever had a baby present at any accident scene. That’s new.

Those cries will probably haunt her for the rest of her life.

“I didn’ see ‘em,” the man slurs from the police car. He has a bloodied lip and a slight bruise forming around his neck from the seat belt. The stench of rum rolls off him with every breath. He sits back, eyes dull and hooded, like he doesn’t even realize what he’s done.

Another EMT meets with her half-way to the other vehicle, lodged against the ditch across the way.

“Driver side sustained some serious damage. The baby has no discernible injuries, but another ambulance is a minute out to take her.”

From the driver’s side, Leslie can see the baby on the opposite side of the backseat, the car seat still tightly in place. The baby flails about, legs and arms kicking with strength. The car is twisted and mangled, but most of the damage is on the driver’s side, the door latched closed. Shattered glass cracks beneath her boot.

When they’re finally able to get the car door open, the woman, barely even mobile, opens her eyes slightly, but she flinches back at the bright lights. Blood drips down from her hairline, bruises already forming on her eyes from the impact on the steering wheel. Blood pools on the leather seat as she shifts with discomfort.

James, a newbie who has never been to a scene with this much damage, breathes out shakily. Leslie turns to see his lips curling, close to dry heaving.

“Go get the baby, yeah?”

He nods quickly, pale in the face, and scurries to the other side. The baby is soothed only momentarily before her wails continue. The woman’s eyes snap open fully this time, panic clear on her features. She tugs fruitlessly on the seat belt, a pained groan leaving her when she moves too quickly.

“Please, don’t move. My name is Leslie. I’m here to help.” She presses a hand to her chest, feeling the woman’s racing heart. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she grits out, her eyes fluttering dangerously. From how she reacted to the lights, she probably has a concussion. Leslie cuts the seat belt, and glass falls onto the blacktop, clinking musically until they settle, like they’re sleeping. Through the gloves, she can feel how warm she is, sweat beading down from her forehead. Glass has settled in the divots of her wool sweater, but not before cutting her skin, caking the pearl necklace peeking from the neckline in blood.

“Y/N, I need you to turn a bit. I need to see where the bleeding is coming from,” Leslie says softly, inching her slowly onto her side. She sighs as more blood pools, gushing down her back and soaking her jumper further. It’s from a rib that broke through the skin. She can only hope that they didn’t puncture an organ.

“Does that hurt?” She asks as she puts pressure on the skin.

“No,” Y/N whimpers, eyes fluttering closed. When they get her on the stretcher, with minimal blood loss, she stirs with life again, her trembling hand reaching onto the sleeve of Leslie’s shirt, painting it red.

“Rhiannon—my baby girl—is she…” She swallows back tears.

“She’s fine.” Leslie knows that it’s unwise to lie to a patient; perhaps, she’s not entirely lying, but it’s never a good idea to give a victim a sure diagnosis without actually knowing anything. There may have been no physical signs of trauma to the baby, but internal problems are a very real possibility that they won’t know of until they get to the hospital.

She knows that she shouldn’t lie. It takes seven minutes to get to the nearest hospital, but it’s time that Y/N may not have; despite how quickly they were able to get her into the ambulance, she’s losing a lot of blood.

“Thank you,” Y/N sighs in relief, clutching onto her hand. Her wedding ring nearly cuts through the gloves from the pressure.

“Of course,” Leslie says, easily putting her on an IV.

“My husband,” she gasps suddenly, her arm jerking about. “Harry—he—he’s gonna be worried. ‘M supposed to call. He has to tell her goodnight—“

“Y/N, relax,” Leslie coos. “We will contact your husband. You need to focus on yourself, yeah? Don’t close your eyes, Y/N.”

Leslie can see the fear in her eyes; it’s something she’s grown very familiar with, but it’s not just fear for her own survival. She can see how scared she is for her family. She struggles to keep her eyes open, resilience and weakness fighting for power. Like any mother, she’s fighting for her family. She’s fighting to be able to hold onto and kiss them one more time.

She is trying so hard to fight for her family.

But at the same time, it’s so easy to give in.

“If I don’t make it,” she slurs, breathing quickly out of her nose. The blood from her nose slips down into her mouth, making her cough.

“Don’t say—”

“If I don’t, I need you to tell Harry that I love him, and that…” She lets out a pained whimper, struggling to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“This wasn’t your fault, love.”

Her lip quivers, teeth chattering.

“I’m just sorry for everything.”

Leslie knows exactly what that means. She’s making amends, apologizing for not being able to fight. A lone tear slips from her eye, but Leslie wipes it away.

“I will.” She promises, gripping her hand tighter.

Only two more minutes.

Y/N gives her a thankful nod, and as if she has finally made peace with the world, she falls limp, the light leaving her eyes.

—

Harry has always enjoyed New York, and it’s not very often that he is able to stay for longer than one night. There is just something about it that’s completely different from London or L.A. that he likes about it; He couldn’t imagine actually living there, with the massive crowds and fluctuating weather, but it’s a nice place to visit, very different from what he’s used to.

He’s halfway through the tour for his most recent album, and New York is the last stop before he gets a short break to go home. He has a show tonight at Madison Square, a radio interview in the morning, and then, he’s home free. He’s been looking forward to this break before the tour even began. Don’t get him wrong, he loves performing and meeting fans and traveling the world, but now that he has a family, it gets more and more difficult not being there for the people who need him most.

“So, I heard,” the interviewer begins, smiling widely.

Sadly, Harry has already forgotten his name. The interview was supposed to be a short little thing for social media, only supposed to take 20 minutes, so he could prepare for the concert that evening, but it’s been nearly an hour, and there are no signs of stopping any time soon. Harry holds off yet another yawn, the lack of sleep from the night before washing over him. He’s having trouble focusing.

“You’ve got a baby girl.”

“Yes,” Harry beams. Even though he wants to keep his baby out of the limelight, he can’t help the excitement that fills his chest whenever she's mentioned. He can easily go on and on about how wonderful and sweet and perfect she is. He tugs on his pearl necklace, biting on his lips to keep quiet. He and Y/N agreed that it would be best for Rhia to grow up as normally as possible, which meant only posting about her on his private social media and avoiding busy places so as to not be seen, but some things were simply unavoidable, like interviewers trying to get him to let something about her slip to get their five-minutes-of-fame. It seems rude of him to completely ignore their questions, so he just sticks to very short, vague answers.

“How are you adjusting to fatherhood?”

“Uh,” he laughs, fiddling with his wedding ring. “It was a struggle to begin with. I will admit that, but it’s getting better. We’re still learning how to adjust to everything.”

He says it like he’s actually there, actively helping Y/N, even though he's on the other side of the world. He hasn’t seen his daughter in nearly two months; video chats have absolutely nothing on the real thing. He isn’t helping Y/N put Rhia to sleep when she’s feeling particularly fussy or feeding her at two in the morning, so Y/N can finally get some well-deserved sleep, and he’s not there to play with her or comfort her.

It feels like he’s lying.

He’s a sad excuse of a father. That’s what he really is.

The thought makes the smile fall from his face, but he’s quick to force another one; if there’s anything that he’s learned after years in the public eye, it’s how to fake emotions. The interviewer gives him an understanding smile. He’s older, but not too old, only having a few years on Harry, age wise, but the wrinkles beside his eyes and the nicked ring on his finger suggest years of familial experience.

“I completely understand. I have three boys of my own, and—”

“I am so sorry,” Jeff, Harry’s savior, says suddenly from behind the camera. “D’ya mind if I borrow Harry for a second?”

The interviewer nods.

“No problem. Take 15?”

Harry feels a twinge of guilt as he stands quickly from the chair, happy to finally have a break.

“Thanks,” Harry sighs, brushing past Jeff to the refreshment table. “‘M exhausted. Maybe it’s ‘cause of Rhi, but every little thing wakes me up. Swore I heard her cryin’ last night.” Jeff is quiet, fiddling with his hands nervously. Harry doesn’t notice how quiet the man has gotten, and he opens a bottle of water, rifling through his bag.

“Isn’t it almost 3? Y/N should be callin’ soon.”

“Harry,” Jeff says again, stronger this time. Harry still doesn’t notice how his voice breaks slightly, wobbly and hesitant.

“Yeah?” Harry drinks nearly half of the water, not sparing a glance up. He fishes for his phone, only to remember that he left it in the car. He sighs and turns. That’s when he finally notices how shaken up Jeff is, pale and nervous.

“What’s up? Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he laughs, downing the rest of his water before tossing it in the bin.

“Harry,” Jeff says again, soft and somber, and it makes Harry stop. Dread settles in his stomach, deep and heavy. Jeff has never been one to be the bearer of bad news, and he tended to beat around the bush. “Why don’t you sit down?” Jeff tries to guide Harry over to the cheap stool in the corner of the room, but he rips his arm from his grasp.

Harry has never been one to let his mind run wild; he’s the calm one, who looks at reason and logic. He's the one to tell everyone that everything’s going to be fine; he’s the one who takes everything in stride, like water rolling down his back. Bumps in the road are nothing. He’s the one that comes up with solutions and executes them with ease, but with the way Jeff is treating him, his heart races.

“What?”

“There’s been an accident,” Jeff says slowly, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

It takes a second for Harry to process his words, but when he does, he stumbles back.

His mind automatically tries to reason with itself, that maybe it has nothing to do with him. Perhaps, something went wrong at the venue, and they would have to postpone, lengthening his stay for only a couple more days. Maybe, Mitch got food poisoning and will be unable to play that evening. There are dozens of reasonable explanations as to why Jeff pulled him aside, but Harry knows, deep down, that he wouldn’t have such a mournful look in his eyes, if it isn’t anything less than very serious.

Okay, fine, there was an accident. That could mean so many different things. An accident doesn’t even necessarily mean that they are in grave danger; they could be walking away unscathed.

“W-what? I-i-is it Gem? Mum?” Endless scenarios flicker in his mind, each one worse than the last. The one thing that he doesn’t even consider is it being Y/N or Rhiannon. His mind refuses to go down that road; if it did, there’s no way of knowing how he would react. He doesn’t even consider the possibility of them being in trouble. He hates how long Jeff is taking to tell him, as if holding off will soften the blow. Irritation starts bubbling below the surface, and he finds it hard to keep calm.

“Harry,” he says, shaking his head. “Anne called me. There was a drunk driver, and they’re headed to the hospital now—”

“They?”

His heart stops for a second, and it feels like his chest collapses in on itself. His body feels like it’s reacting to a stressful situation, with adrenaline and fear and anger, but Harry isn’t thinking with a grieving mind; it’s cloudy and slow, delusional, even. He shakes his head.

“No,” Harry mutters, taking a step forward. He can feel tears burn in his eyes, and he makes no move to wipe them. “It wasn’t…” Harry can’t finish the question. It makes him nauseous. Jeff nods solemnly, which, in any other circumstance, would have been answer enough. “Say it,” Harry snaps.

It’s unreal, like a dream. This didn’t happen to him, not his family.

They’re safe. There’s just been a mistake. That’s the only reasonable explanation to everything. Someone made a mistake. Maybe a fan thought it would be funny to pretend to be his mum, and they somehow got Jeff’s number. It had to be a horrible, awful, repulsive joke to get some attention or something; as implausible as that seems, it’s the only thought that makes sense to him because he can’t possibly understand the weight of the truth. He doesn’t know if he can handle it.

His girls are fine.

They have to be.

“Harry—” Jeff tries to calm him down, seeing a bright red flush to his skin, frustration seeping through every pore. Anger isn’t becoming of Harry; Jeff has only seen him angry a couple of times, but never to this extent: red in the face, words shaky, eyes glassy.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“It was Y/N and Rhiannon.”

That is the absolute last thing that he wanted to hear.

Even though, deep down, he knew that they were in trouble. From the first moment Jeff said his name to how sickly he looked when he told him to sit down, Harry knew, deep in his heart and mind, that his family is in trouble. He just wasn’t willing to accept it or even think about it, as if that could change reality. Until Jeff said those five words that confirmed his worst nightmare.

And he feels his world come crashing down, but he’s stuck, frozen, mind not moving nearly as fast as it should be.

“My—my…” He stutters, throat closing. “My girls?” The ache in his chest increases tenfold, and he holds onto his, feeling the racing of his heart and his quick breathing. “You’re fuckin’ with me,” he scoffs, rage building. He shakes his head with denial. “What kind of fuckin’ prick—”

“I wouldn’t joke about—”

Harry knows that. Y/N and Jeff are close. Hell, they even considered making him their daughter’s godfather. Jeff would never joke about something this serious, and Harry knows that, but he isn’t willing to accept the reality because the reality is nearly too much for him to comprehend, to carry on his already weak shoulders.

“No, they’re not,” Harry closes his eyes, hands slipping through his hair like it normally does when he’s anxious. He tugs on it, but the pain is nothing compared to the sick feeling in his stomach or the crack in his pounding heart. He honestly feels like he’s going to be ill or pass out, feeling his mouth dry up, his hands clamming up, and he begins to feel light-headed.

“Y/N’s just about to call me. It’s Rhi’s bedtime.” He rambles, not listening to Jeff.

They can’t be going to a hospital. He talked to Y/N just this morning when he couldn’t fall asleep. He spoke about his worries and doubts and guilt that he felt for being so far away from them, and Y/N soothed all of his fears and reservations, reminding him why he does what he does. Before she left, she told him that she loved him, and he could hear Rhi babbling away in the background, content and happy and safe.

“There’s a plane leaving in a half an hour—”

“And I sing to her. That's the only way she’ll sleep through the night. She hasn’t been sleepin’ very well these past few days,” he says, lost in his thoughts. His words begin to slur.

“Harry, listen to me,” Jeff says, holding onto his shoulders, trying to keep him grounded, from falling apart. Harry doesn’t get anxious often, but when he does, everything comes to a startling halt; he’s not used to it, and he lets it overwhelm him until he can’t function. That’s the last thing anyone needs.

“No, no, they’re fine. They’re fine. They’re—” He swallows, and like a wave, realization dawns on him, drowning him. His family is in the hospital, and he’s not there with them. “Oh, god,” he cries, feeling bile burn his throat. He sinks to his knees, hand pitifully covering his mouth to keep from vomiting. His vision darkens. It feels like the walls are crumbling down, and he’s stuck, frozen and alone, with no one coming to save him.

Just like his girls.

“Harry, you can’t shut down, not now,” Jeff says, kneeling beside him. “They need you.”

He knows that. He needs to be strong for the both of them, so he wipes away his tears, clenches his jaw, and pushes everything down, even if it feels like he’s choking. He has to be strong for the both of them.

The drive to the airport is a blur. He swallows back his tears until his head feels like it’s going to burst and holds his breath until he can see black spots in his vision, but most of all, he’s numb. A small part of him is still trying to convince himself that this is all just a big misunderstanding, but the larger part, the part that’s screaming the loudest, tells him he’s being irrational and selfish.

It takes 7 hours to get home; he has to travel across an entire ocean to get to his family.

How unfair is that?

He wants to blame the world, God, fate. He wants to curse whatever force existed, but behind all of the hate and accusations and judgement, he is nothing more than a guilty, broken shell of a man.

He’s angry with himself, mostly, with the choices he’s made, with how selfish and greedy he was, and how inconsiderate his actions have been for the past few months. He can’t believe that he could be so self-centered, taking Y/N for granted. She’s his wife; they’re supposed to be partners, equals, and he treated her like she was disposable while he traveled the world, living out a dying dream.

He wishes he was there, to not only prevent it, but also to tell her just one last time how important she was to him and tell her of the pain that would spread in his chest at the possibility of losing her or their child; he wants so badly to show his love for her. In four days, they would have been celebrating six years together, and in that time, he has never doubted his love for her. He knew, from the moment they met, that she was meant to be with him until the very end. They were soulmates.

Now that he might lose her and his baby, he feels like his soul is being ripped out of his chest, leaving nothing but a gaping, painful void.

Jeff sends him a link to Twitter and a message: Harry, take all the time you need.

The post says: Due to a personal emergency, Harry will not be able to make the show at MSG this evening, and all tour dates from this moment forth will be canceled until further notice. Know that he wishes he could be with you all, and please, respect his privacy in these trying times.

He calls his mother shortly after, but she doesn’t answer. When he tries Gem, she picks up after a few rings, shaky and winded. He sighs, trying to quell the tremors in his hands. His lips quiver.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Gemma explains what happened to the best of her ability, that Y/N just left to go back to the cottage after eating dinner And that Anne received a call from the hospital, after he didn’t answer his phone (that part stung to hear).

“Please—” He begins, but his voice teeters and breaks at the end. He can’t help the tears that slip down his cheeks. Exhausted and weak, he finally cries. He cries for his wife, his child, and himself. They’re not heart-wrenching sobs, where he’s keeled over, grief and anxiety spilling out of every pore, but they leave him breathless, chest aching.

“Please, tell me everythin’s gonna be fine.”

Her silence is answer enough. She can’t promise him anything. It’s too early to tell, and she’s not going to lie to him, either, not when his wife and child’s life is in the balance.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Gemma admits, “but I will call you as soon—”

He hangs up before she can finish.

—

Rain thunders onto the broken concrete, a flash of lightning brightening the dull sky. Despite the rain, the earth nearly brimming with life, the hospital is dead. There’s not a soul going in or out. The lights flicker eerily in the corner of his eye. It’s four in the morning, so it’s not much of a surprise, but the sight of it being so lifeless just feels wrong.

His mind is moving quicker than the world can keep up with, it seems, and he feels like it goes against the laws of nature. It’s a strange feeling when you feel like you’re falling apart, but the world continues on; most people on the street wouldn’t bat an eye or even pay any notice to him as he’s deteriorating before their very eyes.

As irrational as it is, it feels wrong. It feels wrong that everyone else is able to go on while his life is crumbling.

He called Gemma when he landed, and there were still no updates on their condition. He broke dozens of traffic laws to get there, and now, he stands outside the entrance, still wearing his wool jumper from the day before, smelling like an airport, with rain soaking his hair. Droplets slip down his cheek and jaw, livening the dried tears from earlier, and they seep into his mouth; he can taste the salt.

He’s just staring at the flickering sign.

He can’t move.

Well, that’s not really it; he can move, he can feel, and he can see, but he doesn’t want to move.

How fucked up is that?

He doesn’t want to go inside. Despite all of his fears, and his longing for answers, and his need to see his family, he can’t move.

Because that would make everything real.

If he goes inside, if he pushes past those doors and sees the doctors, he can’t deny it anymore. When he goes inside, he has to face the very real possibility that he could lose his wife and daughter. He isn’t sure if he’s strong enough to handle it.

He’s being selfish. He knows that. He should be running inside, yelling at doctors and nurses to tell him what they’re doing about his family. He should be trying to do something, anything to see his wife and daughter.

But why is it so hard to move his feet?

And why does he still feel so numb?

He breathes in the cold air, burning his tender throat.

When he finally opens those doors, past the point of no return, he’s welcomed by a blinding light and the scent of antiseptic. The inside is just as lifeless, with dull white walls that leaves his head throbbing and dingy carpet that scrapes against his boots. He follows the signs, leading to the waiting room.

A new round of tears fills his eyes when he sees his mother’s familiar figure. He hasn’t wanted to just completely collapse into her arms, crying, in years, but now, he just wants to be in the comfort of her presence, to forget the world.

But he can’t, just like Jeff told him, he needs to stay strong, for them. He can’t shut down. He breathes out deeply, raises his head, and calls out for his mother.

Anne turns around, and when he sees Rhiannon pressed tightly to her chest, safe and sound, he feels more of his strength return, like he can breathe a little easier. He feels his knees weaken, but he keeps moving. He doesn’t feel quite so empty and broken and numb, a small ray of hope filling him for the first time in hours. He cups the back of her little head, thumb caressing the soft baby hairs. They’ve gotten thicker since the last time he saw her.

“She’s fine, Harry, just a little shaken up,” Anne says, smiling slightly.

His happiness is short lived when Gemma stands from behind Anne.

“Y/N’s in surgery right now. All we can do is wait,” she says, her eyes ringed with red, mirroring his own.

“Da,” Rhia says, and he smiles, a single tear running down his cheek. He wipes it and sniffles.

Y/N pretended to be upset when that was Rhi’s first word. She said it only hours before he had to leave. They were in their home, and Y/N was helping him lug his suitcases out of the bedroom when he heard it. It sounded like another babble, but it became clearer until—

“Da,” she squealed, bouncing in her little jumper chair. “Dada.” She hit a little plastic toy ring on the tray

“Y/N,” he called out for her and knelt down in front of his baby. She rushed out of the bedroom.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Say it again, peach, show mummy,” he cooed, and Rhi repeated it, again and again, reaching for her father.

“I carry her around for nine months and feed her out of my tit,” Y/N whined, “and this is the thanks I get?”

They laughed, nevertheless. It was a bittersweet moment, as he looks back on it now. He was so happy that Rhiannon was growing and learning, but she was growing up too fast for his liking. He lifted Rhi up out of the chair and pressed a gentle kiss to her chubby cheek, tears stinging behind his eyes.

“She’s just daddy’s little girl. Aren’t ya, peach?”

She left a slobbery kiss, well, her version of a kiss (which was more tongue than lip) on his nose. He scrunched up his face, and her features pinched together in return, mimicking him.

“See, jus’ a little mini-me you are,” he said, tickling under her chin.

And when she called out to him after saying their final farewells in the airport, it made it even more difficult for him to leave.

Maybe it was a sign that he shouldn’t leave.

He should have listened.

He’s knocked back into the present when his baby girl looks up at him, eyes lit up with innocence, completely unaware of the dire situation they’re in. They’re not in their London home, and Y/N’s not there with him. His lips wobble, nose burning. His chest hurts, whether from unshed tears or from the thought of actually losing the love of his life, he doesn’t know.

He cups his baby girl’s cheek.

Rhia has Y/N’s eyes. He loves her eyes. When she first opened them, as he held her for the first time, bundled tightly in his arms, he cried big, fat tears until they were all dried up. He felt nothing but love for this little human because she was a perfect mixture of him and Y/N. He loves Rhiannon’s eyes, but now, they serve as nothing but a deathly reminder of his wife, who could possibly not survive these next few hours.

She gives him a gummy smile, her little tongue slipping out over her lips. There’s some white peeking through her gums, and his heart aches. He wipes some drool from her chin, and she reaches for him, but he backs away.

His stomach sinks, and he wants the ground to swallow him whole. His mother looks at him softly, not a shred of disappointment apparent on her face, as if she knew he wouldn’t be able to hold his own daughter. His throat closes.

How could he be so weak?

Rhia’s smile drips down, but she lays her head back on her Nana’s shoulder. Anne cups the girl’s head, wrapping the thinly woven blanket tighter around her; sadness and pity present in the air.

“‘M gonna check in with the nurse, see how Y/N’s doin’,” he whispers, backing away, and he stumbles down the hallway, following the signs until he sees the nearest nurse, clad in pale blue scrubs. Even though he’s sure the nurse expects him to look nothing less than distraught, he smooths down his clothes and clears his throat, trying to quell the cries building, lips quivering pitifully.

“Do you have any information on Y/N Styles?” His voice is watery and broken.

The nurse looks at him with sad eyes, warm and understanding, like his mother’s. How does everyone else know what he’s feeling besides himself?

“No, I’m sorry, sir,” she says, and he simply nods. He doesn’t have the energy to be upset or press her anymore. The heaviness on his chest building, he doesn’t even try to stop it anymore. He just wants to wallow, curl up and cry until he’s finally able to wake up from this nightmare. He hates the feeling like he’s just given up, accepted that Y/N may not come back from this.

He wants to fight, but all of the fight he has left him as soon as Jeff told him the news.

“Thank you,” he whispers, heading back to the waiting room. He sits down silently on the chairs next to Gemma, the worn wood squealing from the sudden weight. Anne paces in front of them, rocking Rhia back and forth, like she has been for the past few hours; call it a nervous tick or a mother’s instinct, but holding Rhiannon calms her.

Gemma glances at him in the corner of her eye, unsure of how to comfort him in such a situation. He can see her

“I can’t hold her, Gem,” he says weakly, and she looks at him, finding his gaze held on the small little bundle in their mother’s arms. She sighs. “What if—” There’s a bitter taste on his tongue. He covers his mouth with trembling hands, trying to push back the cries swelling in his chest.

“What if Y/N dies?”

It’s one thing to think about it, but saying it aloud breaks his heart in two.

Y/N has been a constant in his life for six years, and in that time, she became his rock, his shoulder to cry on, his stability, who held his heart so close to her. Then, he thinks about his baby girl, who has had her mother for barely seven months, just to have her ripped away so easily because of some drunk who didn’t know when to quit, and he thinks he’s going to be sick again.

It takes only one mistake to set off a series of irreversible events.

Exhausted, he doesn’t fight the sob that comes out, his shoulders shaking as more and more. He heaves for breath, curling into himself. Gemma wraps an arm around him, and he cries into her shoulder. He feels useless, sinking further into the endless pit in his mind. He’s never considered the possibility of Y/N never being there with him, holding his hand through the fire, and now that possibility is very real; he can’t face it.

When he’s run himself dry, he finally looks at her with red-rimmed eyes and swollen cheeks.

“If she dies, I dunno if I could even look at her,” he admits. “To see her eyes...” Gemma just listens. She knows that there’s nothing she could ever say to make the situation any better. She holds her brother’s hands tightly. “I should have been here,” he says, nodding softly.

“Harry, there’s nothing you could have done. It’s that prick’s fault, not yours,” she says angrily. She’s trying to keep calm, for everyone’s sake, but it’s difficult when it feels like her family is being torn apart.

“I would’ve been driving,” Harry insists. “I would be the one in there, not her, and they would’ve been safe.”

“You don’t know that,” Gemma argues softly. She’s never seen him like this before, but that’s to be expected in the situation they’re in. He’s normally such an optimistic person, and to hear him degrade himself is almost too much to handle.

“If she does make it—”

“When she makes it,” Gem snaps.

“She’s gonna hate me. I know it.”

“She has never blamed you for anything, not when fans gave her shit, not when paps would follow her, and especially not when you had to leave. There are some things that are simply out of our control, and she understands. She understands that you can’t be there all the time. She understands that this is your job, and your job has made you who you are today. She won’t blame you for this either, so don’t blame yourself.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. It’s true. She does not understand what he’s gone through. She doesn’t know what it feels like, but she knows that the damage is already done. There’s no use in looking back and analyzing everything to see what they could have done differently.

“I should’ve been here.”

“If only things were that simple.”

“Harry?” A shallow, unfamiliar voice speaks from behind him, making everyone raise their heads.

Anxiety spikes in his stomach. He wonders how anyone could have recognized him, since there is absolutely no one else in the hospital, and how insensitive they would have to be to come talk to him while he’s in such a state. Anger bubbles within him, his skin turning hot as he turns to face the woman.

The blood on her uniform makes him pause.

“My name is Leslie. I was one of the first people on the scene.”

“Do you know anything?” She shakes her head sadly.

“But I was with your wife in the ambulance. She wanted me to tell you that she loves you and…” She coughs, hesitation clear on her features. “And not to give up.”

She probably doesn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words because when he stands and tugs her into a hug, she tenses, hesitantly wrapping her arms around him. Again, like when he saw his baby girl, hope warms him, blanketing and strengthening him.

It’s like Y/N is speaking to him through her.

“Thank you,” he whispers, offering her a weak smile. Just as they part, an older woman rounds the corner. Everyone sits up a little straighter, the air becoming a little tenser, when she gets closer to them.

“She’s resting, now, but she should be up in a few hours,” the doctor smiles.

Harry wants to crumple to the ground as a weight lifts from his chest, and he can finally breathe. He’s run ragged, a broken cry slipping out of his blubbering lips. He tugs Gemma into his arms, who returns the embrace wholeheartedly. Such relief and warmth fills him that he can barely hear the doctor as she continues.

“There was some pretty severe internal bleeding, but we got her stabilized. She also had a couple broken ribs, nothing that time and care won’t heal. After we do some more tests, she should be released in about a week. I can show you to her room, if you’d like?”

“Yes,” Harry cries.

When they reach Y/N’s room, Harry pauses outside and turns to his mother. Her eyes, noticing the confliction in his eyes, are soft and understanding. He never thought about seeing her in such a state until now, but least she’s still with him, his little fighter, just like Rhi.

“Mum, can I, uh…” He nibbles on his lip, holding his arms out.

“Course,” Anne says, moving the baby in his open arms.

“Hi, peach,” he says, smiling. She sleeps contentedly, her features relaxed. His heart twinges as she burrows herself into his chest, and he wraps the blanket a little tighter around her.

“We’ll go to the cottage and get some extra clothes for you all,” Gemma says, knowing that Harry needs this time alone. She tugs her mother, who hesitates but soon follows.

He expected her condition to be poor, but that doesn’t stop the burning in his eyes when he sees her, hooked up to what seems like dozens of machines, her face swollen, and stitches along her hairline; she looks so fragile, so broken, but her heart beat is strong, breathing steady. As if sensing her father’s discomfort, Rhi burrows further in his arms, snuffling lightly.

He settles in a chair next to Y/N’s bed, one hand holding hers while the other arm cradles his baby.

“Gave daddy a scare earlier, peach,” he coos. “Daddy’s sorry that he wasn’t there with ya.”

He promises her many things, that she’s safe, that nothing will ever happen to her, and that her mum is safe, too, but most importantly, he promises to be there for her. He cries silently, careful to keep the tears and painful jolts of his chest from waking Rhi. He just can’t help it. After the dust settles and the smoke is cleared, the gravity of the situation weighs on him: he could have lost the two most important people in his life, and he would not have been there.

A nurse stops by to bring a bassinet for Rhiannon and to check on Y/N, who is doing wonderfully, especially after such an invasive surgery.

Y/N wakes after about an hour, just as the sun peaks beyond the horizon. Harry is still up, of course, watching his girls, finding comfort in the heart monitor. He pushes the bassinet back and forth with his foot.

“H?”

He beams when he hears her voice, gravely and worn, but it’s her voice nonetheless, comforting and warm. He wishes that he could hold her and kiss her until his love heals her wounds, but he has to settle for holding her hand and kissing her forehead for the time being.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, tears slipping past her swollen eyes. “It happened so fast.”

“What are you sorry for, lovie? You did absolutely nothin’ wrong,” he says, brushing back her hair.

“You had to leave because I wasn’t being careful enough, and I—”

His heart aches, eyes glazing over. He hates that he made her feel like his job was more important than her.

“No, none of that,” he says, shaking his head. “That doesn’t matter. Listen, this was not your fault, and as far as tour goes, it’s not nearly as important as you two. I would drop everythin’ if you needed me to. There is nothin’ that I wouldn’t do for you. You know that, right? You both are my life, now; I made that promise the day we got married and the day she was born. You both are my number one priority, and I haven’t been treating you like it. For that, I’m so sorry.”

“Harry—”

“It was selfish of me to think that I could live in the past and the present, live the life that I used to while trying to be a father and a husband. It wasn’t fair of me, and I am so, so very sorry, babylove.”

He kisses her, careful of her bruises, and she sinks further into the bed, comforted by his warm words and tender touches. Her eyes, fluttering with exhaustion and filled with tears, refuse to close, as if she’s afraid that he’ll be gone by the time she wakes. He runs his thumb along her cheek, mindful of the swollen areas. For the first time in what feels like years, his mind is calm, basking in the feeling of happiness as he’s finally able to feel and see his family, safe and within his reach. That’s all he’s ever wanted, and as he sees her nodding off, he presses a quick kiss to her knuckles, whispering.

“Rest, lovie, I’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

She falls asleep with a faint smile.

Perhaps, fate isn’t cruel as many think. Just like anything, it can be merciful and loving for those who are worth mercy and love.

—

[jamie-leah]

War of Wolves (16)

Season 1

Episode 16 - Finding Nemo Normal

Bucky x Reader 

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2974

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, Sex, and fluff

A/N: I am terrible at updates and I should stop pretending to have a schedule. Just pray I keep up once a week. Hope you enjoy Lovelies :) 

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The next day Bucky didn’t want to leave you. He was in overprotective mode since the Isaac thing yesterday and you weren’t going to lie and say you didn’t like it. But you also knew he had things to do. 

So, after having breakfast in bed with him and getting halfway through a film you sit up from his chest, “I know you can’t afford to take a day off Buck”. 

He ignores you. But you carry on, “I love the fact that you’re so willing to sacrifice a busy day for me, but honestly Bucky, I’m feeling better since yesterday”. 

He looks at you then, processing your words and studying your face. He starts to shake his head, so you turn the TV off. He looks at you mock offended which makes you smile. 

You kiss your way up his chest until you reach his lips briefly, “I know you have work to do and I know your phone hasn’t stopped blowing up since breakfast. Go and do whatever you have to. I was thinking of training a little and maybe even baking…”. 

He gives you a cheeky smile, “hmm, well, I’ll go if you do me two favours”. 

You nod, “anything”. 

He smiles, “make me some of those cupcakes and let me take you out to dinner tonight”. 

You feel a massive smile spread across your face, “you have yourself a deal”.

The day went by quickly. You baked cupcakes to share with most of the house. That took most of the day and then you started getting ready for dinner with Bucky. Bucky said that he was going to take you somewhere fancy. 

You were nervous since you hadn’t gone to a restaurant in years and even then, you never went anywhere too fancy. But you were more excited than anything because no matter what, you were with Bucky. 

You were glad that you bought more dresses after realising that you might need to go to gatherings more often. You settled on a dark green dress, so dark that it looked black until it came to the light. 

You put your hair up and put light make-up on. You put your shoes on and made your way down the stairs. As you get to the end you can hear Bucky’s office door open and a few seconds later he appears, as handsome as ever.

He holds his arm out, “our chariot awaits milady”. 

You take his arm with a small laugh, “you’re such a dork”. 

He smiles down at you, “and you’re a beautiful woman with a beautiful laugh”. 

You blush as you look away and you can feel him chuckle softly. He guides you out the house and towards the car. He opens the passenger side for you and closes it after you. He then proceeds to open the driver’s side and hop in.

As he starts driving you look over to him, “so, how was your day? How did it go?”. 

He shakes his head, “nope. No work talk tonight. It’s just you and me and normal conversation”. 

You tilt your head with a smile, “I’m not sure if you noticed Buck, but we’re anything but normal”. 

He glances at you with a wicked grin and wide eyes, “I know, isn’t it great?”. 

He laughs as he looks back at the road and you join him in his good spirit, “actually yes, for the first time in my life its great not to be normal”. 

He places his hand on your thigh and squeezes it gently. The car ride is easy, comfortable and conversation is normal. You talk about Steve’s twins and their birthday coming up. You talk about Peggy and what she’s going to name the baby. 

After a conversation about present ideas, Bucky announces that you’ll be arriving at the restaurant soon. You smile as you lean back in the car and close your eyes for a few minutes. 

That’s when you hear Bucky clear his throat like he does when he’s going all serious, “can I ask you something?”. 

You open your eyes with a frown and a look of concern, “you can ask me anything, although your tone makes me nervous”. You laugh anxiously. 

He shakes his head like there’s nothing to worry about, “it’s just, with our conversation about Peggy and the kids, it just got me thinking. I wanted to know what your take on kids was?”. 

You frown not quite understanding what he meant. He glances at you and clarifies, “in terms of whether you want them or not?”. 

You swallow and think about it for a second, “do you want kids?”. 

He shakes his head with a small smirk, “I asked you first”. 

You laugh and think again before answering, “its funny because when I was homeless I gave up on the idea of having any type of normal life, kids included…but the more time I spend with you and the more time I spend with the twins the more I thought about it. So, to answer your question, yes, I would want kids, but I don’t feel ready to have them yet”. 

You watch his reaction closely. It takes a few seconds, but you slowly start to see him smile. You lean to get a better look at his face and say, “what? Why are you smiling?”. 

He doesn’t look at you, his eyes fixed on the road, “we’re at the restaurant”. 

You feel the car slowing down, but you don’t let it go, “no, that’s not why you’re smiling. What is it Buck?”. 

His smile grows slightly bigger as you keep pressing him. He parks the car and you ask again. When he switches the engine off, his body half turns to face you, “I’m just glad that we’re on the same page”. 

You look at him surprised, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m surprised that you want kids considering your profession”. 

He nods, “the original plan was to not have kids for that very reason. They’re a weakness and something else to be used against you. The original plan didn’t involve falling in love either. Then you came barging into my life demanding to see me and you saved my life. I tried to stay away from you, I tried not to feel anything, but you’re a stubborn woman”. You both chuckle until he gets serious again, “when we first started our relationship I said to myself that I wouldn’t have kids with you either. That that was the one plan I would stick to, but the moment I saw you with Sarah and Joseph I knew it was something I wanted, only with you. But I also agree that I’m not ready for kids just yet”. 

You nod as you look down at your hands blushing at his words for the second time already that evening. He lightens the mood with, “I’m not quite ready to share you just yet Doll”. 

You giggle as you look back up at him. You can see him relishing in being able to make you laugh as he smiles, crinkles forming around his eyes. 

After your little moment in the car, Bucky hops out and comes around to help you out the car. He offers his arm again and you take it. 

You could tell it was an expensive place just by being in the foyer, but when your waiter took you into the dining area you glance at Bucky in question of just how expensive.  

It was a cool looking room but with warm lighting. White and silver seemed to be the theme with hints of blue. There were round tables and square tables. The place seemed full and waiters and waitresses were rushing around. 

However, the most noticeable feature of the room was the floor to ceiling side of a wall. It was glass that was filled with water and amazing aquatic life. It was beautiful. 

Your awe only grew as the waiter gave you a square table right next to the glass. Bucky pulled your chair out and pushed it in before sitting down himself.

You were on either side of a corner of the table and you heard him tell the waiter what drinks you wanted, but you couldn’t focus on specifically what he ordered as you stared at the fish. 

You started to reach your hand out to touch the glass, but then stop yourself. You look back at Bucky, “I probably shouldn’t touch the glass, should I?”. 

Bucky frowns, “why not?”. 

You look at him like its obvious, “well, for starters no one else is doing it so I would look even more like I don’t belong. Plus, I bet its all expensive and I wouldn’t want to leave a mark or have anyone be mad or I don’t know”. 

He smiles, “you’re cute when you ramble”. 

You give him a serious look, but you couldn’t stop your smile, “I’m being serious Buck”. 

He holds his hand up in surrender, “okay. Well, the way I see it, fuck what everyone else thinks and our house costs more than this place so I think we’ll be fine if you break something”. He notices that you still don’t look convinced, “what is it?”. 

You look back at the fish and shrug, “that’s your money though Buck. I would feel awful if I broke something and you had to pay-“. 

He cuts you off firmly, but gently, “Y/N, listen to me, what’s mine is yours, always. Everything that I have is also yours. You need to stop thinking of things as just mine. The money that’s there is ours. The house is our home. The people that are there are our family, okay?”. 

You nod with a smile as he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles. He lets your hand go, “now go play with the fish”. 

You shake your head, “you say that like I’m five”. 

“well, if the shoe fits…”, Bucky shrugs and then smirks at you. You slap his arm discretely and he chuckles, “okay, okay. I’m sorry, I guess you’re more like ten”. 

You kick him under the table and he laughs so hard that the table not far from you starts to give you looks, “that table is looking at us”. 

Bucky keeps laughing as he rubs his shin, “I don’t give a fuck”. 

Bucky soon calms down when the waiter comes with drinks and menus. When you open the menu you nearly have a heart attack. You look up at Bucky about to say something when he holds up his hand and talks to you, his eyes never leaving his menu, “I’m starting to get offended that you think I can’t afford things Doll”. 

You shake your head, “its not that I don’t think you can afford them-“. 

He cuts you off, “okay, great, so don’t worry about it Doll. Order whatever you want and just enjoy it”. He looks at you then seriously. You stare at him for a few seconds before nodding and looking back down at the menu. 

Once you place your orders, you and Bucky don’t stop talking. You’re true to his word as the conversations are normal and you find that you’re both laughing more than you ever had in your lives. 

The evening went by so quick you didn’t notice time had slipped through your fingers until you were sharing dessert with Bucky. That was when you remembered what Ray had told you in the shop the other day. 

You look over to Bucky, “you know I don’t know much about your past”. 

He looks up at you from his spoon, “I don’t really know much about yours either”. 

You smile, “you know more about mine than I do about yours. I’m sorry, I don’t want to force you to talk about it or anything its just I remember Ray telling me that you used to be homeless and it made me realise that I don’t know much about your past”. 

Bucky puts the spoon down and takes a sip of water, “you don’t have to apologise for asking, I knew you would eventually, just like I want to know things about you. I won’t tell you it all, but long story short is that me and Steve went into the military together. One day I lost my arm in active duty and got shipped home. Steve still had to serve as I recovered and once I did they sent me on my way. I couldn’t adjust to life as a citizen and as a disabled person, so I ended up on the streets”. 

You felt terrible for even asking about it now, “I’m sorry Buck, I didn’t mean-“. 

He grabs your hand, “don’t. It’s okay, you didn’t know and besides, it turned out alright didn’t it?”. He gives you a pointed look and you lean over to kiss his cheek. 

You both go back to dessert and lighter topics. As you finish the dessert Bucky looks at you and laughs. You scowl at him and he laughs harder until he licks his thumb and rubs at a stain in the corner of your mouth. 

You keep your eyes on him as you turn your head slightly and catch his thumb in your mouth. You lick the pad with your tongue before giving a little suck. You watch his eyes darken when you release his thumb and you thought he might start something there and then until the waiter came over. 

Before the waiter could even say anything, Bucky’s voice came out gruff, “just bring us the bill please”, his eyes never leaving yours. 

The waiter rushes off as you continue staring at each other. You give him a smirk as you let your foot wander up his leg. You couldn’t do much more as the waiter comes back with the bill. 

Bucky doesn’t let you see the total as he pulls out a wad of cash from inside his suit, also handing the waiter a very generous tip. Bucky just about acknowledges the waiters thank you before he was getting up and leading you out of the restaurant. 

You’re both giggling when you exit and make your way to the car. Bucky gives you a playful slap on your ass and you run in front of him so that he doesn’t do it again. When you get to the car Bucky twists you. 

He pushes your back up against the car as he kisses you deeply. As your tongues entwine you forget the cold night, his kiss starting a fire in your stomach and between your legs. 

You push him back before your knees become too weak and you open the rear door of the car. You push Bucky inside so that he’s sitting in the back normally. You give a quick glance around before hiking your dress up your thighs and climbing in on top of him. 

As soon as you straddle him and close the door his lips are on you again, travelling from your neck and up to your lips. You take a moment to thank the tinted windows as you moan into Bucky’s mouth. 

You grind down over Bucky’s already hard cock and his growl fills the car. He stops you after a few minutes, “stop teasing, I need to be inside you”. His words flip your stomach and pools at your pussy as you lift up slightly in order for Bucky to undo his trousers. 

When he unleashes his cock, it springs to attention and you waste no time in pulling your panties to one side and sliding down. You moan together, never taking your eyes off each other. You roll your hips slow and hard. 

Bucky manages to get your breasts free and he rolls one nipple between his metal fingers and takes the other between his lips. Your hands tangle in his hair as he sucks the nipple hard. He bites down gently and you both moan loudly as a bolt of pleasure causes your pussy to squeeze his cock. 

He kisses his way up from your breasts to your neck. He sucks softly before murmuring, “you’re so fucking beautiful Baby-Doll”. His metal hand slips between the two of your and you gasp when you feel his finger connect with your clit. 

He circles it as you roll your hips and you feel the pleasure start to build as you whisper, “James…I need more, give me more James”. 

He growls against your skin, more animal than human, as he applies more pressure to your clit. You lose rhythm as he brings you closer and closer to the edge of release. But before you can fall over the edge he stops with a smirk. 

You’re panting now, your legs starting to shake with the pleasure. Bucky takes charge now, lifting you up, your pussy barely on his cock as he starts to thrust up into you. 

He starts slow and increases until he’s thrusting up hard and fast. Moans and groans fall from your lips like drool as they mix with his own. You feel yourself on the edge again and as a result you squeeze Bucky’s cock harder. Its not long before you feel Bucky start to spurt hot cum into you, a violent thrust accompanied with each spurt. 

The feeling of him cumming in you tipped you over the edge of pleasure as you throw your head back. You lean into Bucky as you come down from your high. You rest your head on his shoulder as you both catch your breath. Bucky nuzzles your neck and places kisses over the hickey he gave you as he says, “I should take you out to dinner more often”. You laugh together in the backseat of the car. A perfect end to a perfect night.

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[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 1

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: I’m so excited for you all to read this story! Special thanks go to Lynn (@mindless--ramblings​​) for always being so supportive and helping me stay inspired! Ever since I found out Pedro now has two characters named Marcus, I’ve wondered about ways I could connect them in one piece of writing. And this? This is that piece of writing. Moreno won’t be making an appearance in this one, but I hope Pike will make up for that 😉 Enjoy!

Ground floor.

First floor.

Second.

Erin He took a deep breath, thankful that the elevator was empty. She straightened the collar of her shirt as the fourth floor approached. At her side was her government-issued laptop, which she’d picked up from the front desk. Her fingers gripped its edges tightly. This was it. She made it.

The elevator let out a soft ding and opened its doors, revealing a floor of cubicles and conference rooms. Austin sunlight filtered through large windows, illuminating the space alongside the bright fluorescent lights.

She stepped out, searching for the art theft department’s main office. As much as she understood the need for technology specialists across all the FBI’s branches, she never quite grasped why she was placed in the art theft department, of all places. She always thought she’d be in the operational technologies department, developing and maintaining tools for others to use. Though she couldn’t blame them; intellectual property was highly valued and often stolen.

The email said to report to the department supervisor’s office for a quick onboarding, but they didn’t exactly mention what it would be. It could’ve been anything from a quick handshake to being told to shadow a coworker. Hopefully the former.

Part of her begged to the gods of computer science that she wouldn’t be assigned to yet another condescending old white man. Her last welcome at a company had been less than mediocre, and lukewarm at best.

The other part of her nagged that she’d signed up for exactly that.

“Ah, there you are. Welcome to your first day, Special Agent He,” the department supervisor–Harold Strauss–greeted as she entered his office. He gestured to the man standing in front of his desk. “This is Agent Marcus Pike. He will be showing you the ropes today.”

Agent Pike looked at her over his shoulder, the corners of his lips curling in a friendly smile. He couldn’t have been much older than her, with his faint smile lines and soft brown hair. He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned around to face her.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. She shook his hand and then extended her hand to Pike. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for taking time out of your day to show me around.”

“Likewise,” he replied, shaking her hand. His brown eyes sparkled as he proposed, “Should we start? I have a meeting in about half an hour, and I’m sure you’ll want to meet some of our operational techs and digital forensics team. They’re the backbone of everything we do here.”

They acknowledged their supervisor once more and then left to begin the tour.

As her personal guide gave her the rundown of the floor’s organization and workflow, Erin couldn’t help but sneak a couple more glances at him.

He was taller than her by a few inches, but not in such a way that she felt like shrinking into herself. And he always stayed at her side, never walking ahead or lagging behind. His strong jaw led her gaze to a pair of soft lips, which seemed to be in a perpetual smile as he talked about the breakthroughs the department had in the past days.

“Do you know where your desk is?” Pike asked.

“Yeah, they told me the other day,” she answered, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. They walked over to her assigned desk, which was barren save for a standard computer, box of pens, and notepad. “If you’re going to ask if I need help with setup, I think I should be alright for now. Nothing a few installations and linux commands can’t fix.”

He chuckled softly and nodded. “You’re living up to your title, Agent He. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I could’ve been much help even if I offered. Have you done work similar to this before?”

She shrugged. “I worked in cybersecurity and software development,” Erin replied, setting down her bag and laptop on her desk. Slipping off her black blazer, she continued, “But I figured I should do something more than just build products for tech companies. Use my skills to aid in investigations.”

He nodded in understanding. “I see what you mean. Actually, I was originally studying to be an art history professor. But then I found this job and figured I could use my knowledge to help find and preserve artworks.”

Hm, noble.

“Sounds like we aren’t so different,” she observed, following him across the officespace. “Let’s hope that I can be of help around here.”

He chuckled softly, the dimple in his cheek showing as he smiled. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

---

The words on the screen blurred into the white background of the screen, as if they were mocking her. Each line of test slowly lost its meaning, turning into mind-numbing strings.

Erin pushed her computer away and rubbed her eyes defeatedly, sighing. The department was launching an investigation regarding a museum that was broken into and wiped clean. What little data was left on the computers, from what she gathered after hours of poring over them, was largely useless. Hopefully, one of the other agents would find something helpful in the other remnants. Perhaps an address, or some sort of signature that could be traced to a group. Her, on the other hand? She just wasted hours of work.

A steaming cup of coffee was set down onto her desk, along with some sugar and tiny cups of cream.

She looked up to find Marcus–Pike, she reminded herself–standing at her side, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Find anything?”

“Nope,” she sighed. It turned out that Pike was one of the best agents in the department, and that meant he spent most of his time leading and organizing investigations. What that meant for Erin, then, was that she had to answer to him. Thankfully, he was never weird about it. Quite the opposite, actually. Tapping the side of the cup, she asked, “Is this for me?”

He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah! Sorry; I would’ve fixed it, but I wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee.”

“Well it’s nothing complex, if that’s what you’re nervous about,” she teased. Two sugars and a drizzle of cream turned the pitch black liquid into a deep brown. She took a sip, the placebo of caffeine already kicking in. “When you’re in STEM, you learn to appreciate caffeine in any form. But I like it like this.”

“Noted,” he said, his voice a soft timbre amongst the flutter of papers and clacking of keys. Hands resting on his hips he asked, “How long do you think it’ll be before you find anything?”

“Anywhere from an hour to another three...or five,” she sighed, lazily scrolling down the file. Basking in the steam from her cup, she continued, “I’m gonna need a lot more of this coffee. There has to be something useful in this file, I just need to find it. I might need to cross-reference with some of the other evidence to notice anything.”

A headache was already descending upon her, and she was only six hours in. Weak–she’d stared at a computer much longer without any problem many times before. Why, of all times, did it have to happen when she was talking to her coworker?

“Well, I’ll be here pretty late tonight, so if you need anything, just let me know,” he replied, patting her shoulder. The crease between his brows deepened as he squinted down at the screen. “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes on it. Take a break, Erin.” At her responding pout, he reasoned, “It’s been almost a month and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you rest.”

Of course he noticed her breaks, or lack thereof. She rolled her eyes, hiding a bashful smile in her cup. “I work best in sprints.”

He hummed amusedly. “But even sprinters need breaks, don’t they?” Then, his eyes lit up. “Actually, why don’t you take a break now?”

Erin raised a brow. “Am I not taking a break right now?”

His laugh was warm. “I mean a real break. Let’s get lunch; my treat.”

“Are you really going to make me choose between food and digital forensics, Agent Pike?”

Nodding definitively, he replied, “Yes, Agent He.”

Unable to resist the prospect of free lunch, she gave in and followed him out to his car. The work would still be there when she returned. For the moment, she could just enjoy Marcus’s companionship.

He drove out to a local diner about ten minutes away, his turns confident as if he’d gone there hundreds of times before. Judging by the way his eyes had sparked with joy at her agreement, he probably had.

They let their shoulders relax in the serenity of the car, shedding the formalities and passing time as if they were close friends.

The diner was small and cozy, booths worn with age and serving breakfast all day. Erin’s lips curled up in a little smile as the hostess recognized Marcus. So he was a regular, after all.

They sat down across from each other in a booth. Erin shrugged off her navy blue blazer and smoothed her dark hair back into a thick ponytail.

As she fixed her hair, Marcus gave her his recommendations, leaning in with the menu so she could follow along with her eyes. He seemed particularly fond of the pancakes, so she decided on those. Surely he wouldn’t lead her astray.

And with the way his voice rasped just slightly, she could listen to him speak for a whole day.

“Honey? Did you hear anything I said?” he asked, tilting his head slightly with a little smirk.

Erin snapped out of her reverie, cheeks burning. “Oh, um. Yeah. Sorry, I spaced out for a bit.”

“No worries, it happens to all of us,” he reassured, laying the menu flat on the table. “What were you thinking about?”

Less than an hour had passed before they were back in the office, stepping out of the elevator with full bellies. The familiar clicking from computers and buzz of conversations filled the air, and they were officially agents again.

Erin turned to him and nudged his arm. “Hey, thanks for the break.”

“Anytime,” he replied, walking with her along the perimeter of the room. They stopped at the hallway leading to the conference rooms and offices. His large hand moved to rest on her arm, his thumb rubbing gently. “I guess this is my stop. You know where to find me.”

“And you know where I’ll be.”

The next day, Marcus was greeted in his office by tupperwares containing homemade fried rice, some cut up fruit, and a sticky note.

Thanks for sticking with me yesterday. -E

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he tried to refrain from grinning like a maniac, though he was sure anyone who happened to pass by would’ve thought he looked like a schoolgirl with a crush. Erin’s handwriting was soft and curved, so similar to calligraphy but simple in a way that made the note feel that much more intimate.

She had an interesting way of showing her care for others, he found. Perhaps it was a byproduct of the work she dedicated her life to; she seemed to always be one step ahead, ready to pull out small details that others would dismiss. He wondered what she might know of him.

There were a few things she clearly knew; things that surprised him every day. Just as he’d learned her usual coffee order, she’d learned his. When he’d walk in every morning, her head of dark hair would tilt to peek over her cubicle, as if she could sense his presence. And when their eyes would meet, her smile was better than the best espresso in the world.

Marcus shook his head to himself as his heart fluttered. Years of failed relationships and a divorce later, he still couldn’t keep his feelings in check. His mother always said he had a soft heart, one that would be his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. But Erin was anything but a weakness.

She wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. A constant in his life, making each day feel just a little more special. He didn’t need a relationship to be happy, but….he wouldn’t be opposed to one either.

Yet, as he spotted Ian Malarkey standing a bit too close to her, he forced himself to backtrack. What if she didn’t want him? What if they were meant to be just as they were: just friends?

Maybe it was time for him to move on.

After a few months, their friendship had grown well past a workplace acquaintance. It wasn’t as if she was trying to get attached to him; it just...happened. And it was only a little surprising to her; she tried to stay as professional as she could in the office, but outside? Outside, she could just be Erin, not FBI Special Agent He. Outside, she could shed her jacket and swap the button-down shirt for a ribbed sweater and some jeans. Outside, she and Marcus could sit as close together as they wanted without drawing unwanted attention.

She knew it was silly to fantasize. After all, Marcus was a coworker, if not a superior. And with the way he fussed over her water intake and made sure that she wore her glasses at the right times, he could easily see her as a little sister. As nothing more than a new agent who happened to be friendly.

But if that were true, why would he go through the effort of bringing her lunch on Thursdays? Why did he call her little names like “honeydew” and “sweetheart,” and why did it feel so natural coming from his mouth?

The commotion coming from the direction of the conference rooms told her that the team was back from the investigation. Maybe Marcus was there; she knew he’d gone, but he hadn’t texted since morning. It wouldn’t hurt to pop in to check on him; he did that often enough with her.

When she entered the break room, her heart sank. Sitting off to the side, by the wall, was Marcus asking Teresa Lisbon out on a date. She wasn’t sure why she felt defeated;  it wasn’t like she had any plans on asking him out.

But then why did it hurt her to the core to see him giving those puppy eyes and little smiles to Lisbon? The woman didn’t even look interested in him; if anything, she looked confused and hesitant.

Ian caught her eye as she surveyed the room once more, his lips pulling into a tight-lipped smile. He knew about her feelings for Marcus, having spent hours going over evidence and making small talk. In fact, he’d even encouraged her to tell Marcus her feelings, out of fear that she might never get the chance.

Perhaps her chance had passed after all. Turning on her heel, Erin decided that, for once, it was time to go home. Marcus would come to her when he was less busy.

The thing was, though, she didn’t want to go home. She wanted to go over and say hello, and check to make sure he wasn’t injured in the scuffle. Moreover, she didn’t want to be a fill-in for Lisbon’s absence. She didn’t want to be his second choice. And she knew it wasn’t her fault, nor Lisbon’s, that Marcus didn’t choose her. But it still stung.

She watched as their shared lunches became less frequent, the senior agent replacing her space by Marcus’s side. When the elevator would ding at 7AM and she’d glance up to see if it was him, she found him searching the room for Lisbon. They never drifted over to her desk. That fact always made her grip her pen just a little tighter.

On the days when he did grace her with his presence, she felt like a tornado of emotions.

Happy, because she had missed her best friend.

Sad, because she knew the next time she’d spend time with him was in a few weeks rather than a few days.

Grateful, because she knew how hard it was to socialize after a work week of at least 50 hours.

Envious, because of the stories he told.

Relieved, because he still cared.

Plastering a halfhearted smile on her face, Erin listened to Marcus practically worship his girlfriend. His summer breeze of a smile and sparkling eyes made the pain that came with listening worth it. The only other time she’d heard him talk that passionately was when they’d visited an art museum.

At least one of them was happy.

She thought of trying to date again; it had been over a year since she’d been in a relationship. But she couldn’t do it. More than once, she’d put on some simple makeup and casual clothes, ready to head out to the bar, but no. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the apartment. The apartment was where she and Marcus watched movies, where she would cut up fruit and bring them to him on a plate while he pored over reports in the warm lights of the kitchen. It was where he’d navigate her cupboards and fridge to make her a mug of his special hot chocolate. It was her safe space, the one place in her life where she could just be Erin, and he could just be Marcus.

The knife cleaved the melon in half with ease, revealing its pale green interior.

Marcus leaned up against the counter next to her, hair tousled and necktie loosened against his chest. He absentmindedly started rolling up his sleeves, undoing the cuffs of his shirt and folding them up.

She tried not to stare too long at the way his forearms tensed with the movement.

He broke the silence first. “I got the job in DC,” he said, voice soft like velvet.

“That’s great.” A simple response, though Erin cringed internally. Was that any way to react to her best friend’s job promotion? Surely not, but a part of her–a selfish part of her–knew that it meant he was leaving. Leaving not just his position, but her. Texas. The apartment.

It would’ve been disingenuous for her to say anything more.

Then, he added, almost sheepishly, “I also asked Teresa to marry me. And move to DC so we can be together.”

The blade of her knife hit the cutting board a little harder than normal. “Oh. That’s nice.” Cutting away the tough outer skin, she forced herself to ask, “What did she say?”

He sighed and crossed his arms, biting his lip as if to contain a smile. “She said she’d think about it. But I think she’ll come around. I kind of, uh, sprung it onto her the other night.”

And yet there he was, standing next to a woman who would’ve been ready to say yes. But even so, she said, “I’m sure things will work out between you two. You’ve already given so much to your relationship; it would be a shame for her to not see how great you are.”

She slid him a bowl of perfectly cubed melon.

Smiling softly, he took the bowl into his hands. “You’re the best, honeydew.”

The best, but not the one.

“You’re just trying to get on my good side before you leave for DC, brown eyes,” she jested, nudging him with her elbow. Her chest filled with warmth at his laugh. She tried her best to hang onto that feeling, to that sound. “When are you two leaving?”

“I’m already about halfway packed,” he mused, chewing on a cube of honeydew thoughtfully. “So maybe within the week? I hope that’s enough time for Teresa to make a decision.”

There was less time than she thought. She hummed softly. “Are you sure that’s what she wants? That it’s what you want?”

He nodded confidently. “Yes, I...I know that I don’t have the best track record with relationships, but something about her feels right.” The bowl was set into the sink and filled with water. “I’m happy, honey. You don’t have to worry.”

Erin’s eyes burned as she quietly replied, “Okay.”

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[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #16: Crack, Shatter, Repair

Words: ca. 4,400 Setting: Canon Divergence AU/Fix-It with Time Travel Lemon: no CW: panic attack described in detail, incest, disassociation, general bad feels, angst

“WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?!”

Queen Elsa stopped in her tracks.

Her hand hovered above the door handle as she slowly turned around to face the crowd. Though she was startled by the outburst, she dug in her heels in her mind and kept her face neutral. Silently, she locked gazes with the only person in the room that mattered to her:

Anna.

“Goodnight, everyone,” she softly commanded.

Turning her back to her sister, she didn’t get to see the hurt look of desperation form onto the princess’ face. Taking a deep breath, she still faced the door to say,

“And Anna?”

Said princess jolted in surprise.

“Please, just stop trying.”

Then another wooden door was shut between them.

Though she didn’t know, Elsa had just left Anna in the same state she was. As she walked (read: sprinted) through the halls to her room, millions of thoughts swirled in her mind like snowflakes in a blizzard. Elsa couldn’t describe it if she tried other than sheer, overwhelming…

Panic.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Anna stood in the ballroom, unaware of any gazes the nobles stared into her. All she saw was that godforsaken door. Again and again, her mind slipped through panicked thought after panicked thought, quickly realizing what she had just done.

Her breathing quickened, her heart felt like it was going to explode. All she could hear was white noise screaming in her ears. All she saw was a black tunnel leading to another, white wooden door.

‘I just yelled at the Queen.’

‘At her coronation.’

‘At Elsa’s coronation.’

‘In front of everyone…’

“Oh no… no, no, no, no, no…” she whispered to herself.

Before Kai could rush over to help her, she had already started to run out of the room, decorum abandoned the moment she had started to question her sister’s actions. Suddenly, Hans seemed a lot less important as she saw her sister turn away from her once again. Now, the door slammed shut, both royal sisters gone and the nobles left standing in confusion.

“No, no, no, no, no…” Anna seemed to repeat endlessly.

Faceless servants rushed by her in a flash, akin to a winter storm. White, shrieking noise made her deaf to any comments, as the black tunnel made her vision seem practically non-existent.

“Why did I yell at her? Oh, Gods! Why did I yell at her?!” She mumbled incoherently through the hall as she reached her room.

Not only did she fail to notice Elsa’s door was open, but as she barged into her room, crying and gasping for air, she saw something unfathomable.

First Anna noticed her ice-colored eyes, and next the dress that she wore. White, shining spindles of reflective material wove into endless patterns like fractals. Her hands were… ungloved. And her hair was waving behind her from the open window. The woman’s eyes were wide and unprepared as she looked at the princess, watching calculatingly at her exponentially worsening state.

Anna started to talk as she broke down, shoulders feeling heavy like she was at the bottom of an endless sea.

“I-I’m g-going t-to l-lose her. S-She hates m-me. Why d-did I y-yell at her?! What am I going to d-do?”

Almost as an after thought she added,

“Gods… I’m the w-worst sister ever.”

That shocked the woman out of her daze and soon ‘(Elsa?)’ was rushing over to hold the princess tightly in her arms. The contact shocked them both, practically shivering at the foreign feeling of having their sisters arms around one another, though both for a different reason.

One, for not even remembering how it felt since she was a child. And the other… because she hadn’t felt the embrace since she last saw a Queen, standing above her and screaming. But through this touch the two were able to center themselves and try to calm down.

Anna just… kept on rambling, tears bubbling out of her eyes and making her voice wobble. Her face felt hot and her eyes stung but nothing in her mind made sense anymore.

She had just lost her sister. She had just pushed her away, exactly like what she did to Anna. The princess had always known that she couldn’t expect Elsa to come back herself, but pushing her away?

That meant she was never coming back.

And in Anna’s mind, if Elsa left her alone, just like their parents did?

Fear. Panic. Sense of self? Gone. Hope that one day she’d get an answer for what no one would tell her? Out the window. Mental state?

Broken.

Something in her mind had chipped as she watched Elsa turn, and absolutely shattered as the door closed behind her.

But now, somehow, Elsa’s arms were wrapped around her own, hugging the sweet life out of her. It was the only thing she could focus on with all of the things springing to mind in her head. Then, a voice snuck into her thoughts.

“Anna, breathe with me… I need you to breathe.”

“I’m… I’m okay. I’m fine, it’s fine, I don’t- I’m okay. It’s o-“

“Anna,” the woman interrupted, “Stop telling me you’re okay. Just look at me. Breathe.”

For some reason, she did as she was told.

“Hey,” She began again, “Hold my hand, you’re going to be fine.”

Again, for no reason she could come up with, Anna did as she was told and began to breathe, albeit unevenly. Her hand grasped the other and held on both softly and firmly, though she could barely tell anyways. As she kept trying to match Elsa’s breathing, her overwhelmed mind finally started the process of calming itself.

“Good, good. Anna I need you to listen to me, okay? Just nod if you can hear me…”

Anna managed a small nod, eliciting another squeeze. This Elsa kept her hold on the princess tight and warm, though she didn’t know why. And now, her head felt like it was going to explode if she didn’t let the words in her head tumble out of her mouth.

“Elsa… she’s going t-to leave me. She’s gone. I-I can’t do it. I can’t l-live without h-her-“

“Anna, listen to me.” The soft voice commanded. “Focus on me, I can help you. You just need to breathe for a moment.”

“B-But what if sh-she-“

“Anna,” Elsa said, stepping back but keeping her hands on her shoulders. The shock of the air between them brought some semblance of thought back and she could now see the increasing worry in those glacial eyes.

“Can you do something for me?” She questioned.

Anna nodded and Elsa came back in, holding her close one more time. With her eyes open and unfocused, the princess tried to listen to Elsa’s voice right beside her ear. She spoke, still as soft as she could, but now Anna could hear the fear and worry in it.

“Alright,” she started, “For now, I want you to say these in your mind, okay?”

Elsa waited until a small, almost imperceptible nod landed on her shoulder. Judging by her hesitation, she was going to need to give Anna a moment between each question to center herself and think again. Right now, all she needed was for the girl to breathe so that she wouldn’t pass out in her arms.

“I need you to think of five things you can see. Nod on my shoulder or squeeze my hand when you’re done.”

Anna did as her sister told her to.

‘I see… the open window… the family portrait… the bed I sleep in and the blanket on top of it…’ Anna looked down and thought, ‘And the beautiful dress Elsa is wearing.”

When Anna squeezed Elsa’s hand after a few minutes, she could feel the relief sagging on her sister’s shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Elsa continued:

“Now, how about four things you can hear?”

This time, the task didn’t seem as monumental, and already Anna’s mind had slowed down enough to think. Unfortunately, her breathing was too loud to hear anything other than it itself. So as she continued to try and hear the things around her, she started to slow her breathing down and was able to hear more.

‘I can hear… my own breathing, Elsa’s as well. I hear the birds outside in the gardens… and the waves on the coast of the fjord.’

Anna gave Elsa another squeeze and the light haired woman continued.

“Good, now three things you can feel.”

Quickly, she knew what she would say in her mind, and was ready to go.

‘I can feel my clothes, the hard wooden floors, and Elsa’s arms wrapped around me tightly.’

When the squeeze came in a little more than ten seconds, Elsa smiled and nodded, challenging her sister once more.

“Good, Anna,” she breathed, “two things you can smell, but now…” Elsa paused, preparing Anna with a breath against her shoulder,

“Say it… Out loud.”

And just like that, the princess’ mouth went dry and numb at the prospect of speaking again. Anna started to catastophotise, each thought darker than the next. She could feel her mind slipping again, but Elsa saved her once more with a few simple words.

“It’s okay, Anna, I don’t need this quickly, just doing it is all that matters. If you pause, that’s completely fine, but promise me you won’t give up.”

Anna nodded into her shoulder and tried to speak, though it came out hoarse and scratchy.

“I c-can smell…” she started, listening to her own husky voice, “the…’’ she paused. Closing her eyes, she only focused on what she could smell, and soon she could differentiate them.

“The crocuses. Outside. A-And the smell of… w-winter?”

Behind Anna’s hair Elsa smiled, her cheek hitting the girls head. Elsa had been wondering if she would pick it up, but it seemed that she would always have the scent of winter around her.

“What does that smell like?” She asked, though really only out of curiosity. Yes, it would help her sister but she also wanted to know what others seemed to smell when they said “winter”.

Anna took a deep breath and commented, “It smells like p-pine, and th-that smell in the air when snow would fall? O-or like mint mixed w-with… mountain?”

At that Elsa chuckled softly and smiled again, knowing she was helping repair the panicked princess.

“Okay, okay, now one last thing. What can you taste?”

Soon, Anna answered, “I-I can taste the chocolates on the tables from the party.”

Blushing from the embarrassment of the situation, Anna held on tighter to this woman that was helping her. She didn’t think she could stand on her own, let alone think or talk, so she tried to extend the time she had with Elsa.

“W-What was that method..? I-It really helped and… I’ve never experienced that b-before, but it seemed to calm me down…”

Elsa nodded and pulled back, taking Anna to the bed to sit down on the edge. This time, instead of her head being buried in white locks of hair, Anna could see her sister now. Giving Anna a look of, ‘I know what you’re doing,’ Elsa smiled warmly again and proceeded to explain.

“What you had just now, did it feel like you were wrapped up in your own head? Like no matter how hard you tried something would always come back and pull you under again?”

Anna nodded, trying to block out her memories from ruining this moment.

“This is what you call a panic attack.” Elsa gestured around, but ended by taking one of Anna’s hands in her own. At the mention of the word panic, Anna felt like she had an epiphany.

‘I had a panic attack.’ She thought, ‘At least, now I have a name for it if this happens again… It was terrifying to say the least, though I have to wonder why Elsa would know-‘

Interrupting her thoughts, Elsa rubbed her thumb across Anna’s palm and began again.

“I actually came up with the method that I used with you. I like to call it ‘grounding’ because when everything feels like it’s speeding off in every direction, this helps drag it all back to the ground and slow it all down.”

Anna nodded but questioned, “W-Why go through the senses?”

“Well, I can’t be sure but it probably felt like you could barely think right?” A nod of approval was solemnly sent her way.

“It’s called ‘sensory overload’. I start with sight because it’s the easiest thing to latch onto. Second is hearing because it makes you calm your breathing down to listen to the small noises you can pick up. Third is touch, again because it’s easier and that it puts you back into reality.” She explained.

Going on, she looked into Anna’s teal eyes.

“Fourth is smell, because it’s a little harder and you need to really slow down to catch it. Last you have taste, because usually you only have one thing that you can taste, and that it’s the hardest one to pick up.”

Throughout the explanation, Anna was enraptured by Elsa’s words. Her voice sounded like a soft melody that soothed her mind right back down to calm. Though now, she had to respond.

“That’s… really insightful. But… why did you even have to come up with this..?” She asked worriedly.

Through a sad smile, Elsa softly explained, “I had to figure this out… because I have panic attacks as well.”

The princess gasped but nodded for Elsa to go on, interested in what she would share.

“As a child, no one would be there to calm me down when I would get these, so I usually started counting down from one thousand. It started to take more than that though, because as I got older, my fears grew darker.”

Tears sprang in the light haired woman’s eyes, but she tried to blink them away.

“Eventually, I would just try to focus on your footsteps in the hallway, or if I could hear your voice, then that as well. I realized as I thought about what I could hear, I had to calm down my breathing enough to do so. That’s when this method started to form.”

Though the tears started anew for Anna, they weren’t for herself. As her sister talked through her story, she kept wishing she had just taken a sword to the wood and shattered it.

‘That would have been better than having our minds broken and needing repair.’ She bitterly thought.

— Before the coronation, after the late King and Queen had boarded their last ship, Anna had asked Elsa why she didn’t come out of her room. Instead of the answers she thought she would get… she got:

“I can’t Anna, I want to leave… but Mother and Father…” the voice trailed off.

Yet after a long moment, it began again.

“They wanted me to stay away from you.”

Something started to crack in her heart as she heard the words come from a soft, empty voice behind the door. Though it was little now, the crack grew with every passing day. The words she’d been given both confused and relieved her.

Why would Mother and Father lock her in there? What are they all hiding from me? And why did Elsa sound so sad? —

Anna’s tears fell slightly harder. And though Elsa tried her best, a single tear fell through her defenses.

“Anna, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not who you’re looking for.” She stated shortly.

Anna blanched, confusion jolting her mind like jumping into ice water. The emotion must have shown on her face because Elsa rushed to fix the mistake she made and said,

“Anna, Anna,” getting her attention, “I… I’m not who you’re looking for, because I’m not the Elsa that you just asked that question to in the ballroom.”

Still, Anna was so confused.

“What..? But… I-I dont understand… You’re my sister… and I haven’t seen you in years…”

Now, Elsa backed away from Anna’s position on the bed so that she could really get a good look at her. She stood and took a few steps away, turning back around to look at Anna with a patient, calm smile that looked right at home on her face. Raising an eyebrow, Elsa asked one more question:

“Are you sure, Anna?”

The princess looked back to this Elsa and replayed her entire interaction. Small discrepancies started to pop up, bringing light in the dark pit of confusion.

Her hair was down. Her eyes were… different. A good different. More relaxed. Her shoulders weren’t stiff and perfectly postured, nor was her gait silent and calculated. Her smile wasn’t simply polite. She looked directly at Anna, not just around her. Her dress was… revealing, to say the least. And her feet were only covered with sandals. But… Her hands were ungloved. And she was touching her. And her smile was natural. And she didn’t look afraid.

This wasn’t her Elsa.

It couldn’t be.

“You’re not… My Elsa…” she concluded, eyes mixed with sadness and disappointment.

“But then… Who are you? If you’re not my sister… how are you in here?” The princess asked fervently.

“I’m…”

Anxiety crept onto “Elsa’s” shoulders as she looked away, gloveless hands coming together in an old habit: wringing them when she got anxious. Anna noted it instantly and spoke again, her mind suddenly sharpened with calm, collected inquisition.

“You’re wringing your hands… like Elsa does.” She stated simply. “You are Elsa… but…”

“I’m the Spirit of the Enchanted Forest.”

The room went quiet for a few moments, the silence taken up by the stares they gave each other, one staring in disbelief, the other staring with increasing anxiety, though she hid it quite well. When “Elsa” went to sit back down, Anna startled where she sat in surprise. The bed creaked as the spirit sat and the mattress squished down, but otherwise, there was no sound.

Silence. Until…

Tap. Tap. Ta-Tap. Tap.

“Anna?”

…

“Please, I know you’re in there, people have been asking where you’ve been…”

…

“You said have courage, and I’m trying to… I’m right out here for you…”

…

“Just come on in…”

…

“We only have each other, just you and me…”

…

“I want to fix this too…”

…

“Yes… I want to build a snowman. Do you want to build a snowman..?”

…

“You and I…”

…

Tears dripped down Anna’s cheeks, remembering the old song she would sing. She’d given up and almost forgotten about the little tune. Now… her heart ached at the response she’d gotten. Not only were the words so painfully similar, but the differences made it all the more heartbreaking. Never had Anna wanted to open a door so badly, but for some reason her body was still frozen in place.

…

Elsa spoke now, softly:

“I’ll be in my room, if you need me. If not…”

…

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

Steps faded away from the door and Anna was frozen in her seat, trying to comprehend what just happened. Elsa, her Elsa, just sang for her, and then she didn’t answer, too shocked to get a word out.

Anna turned to “Elsa”.

“Elsa” decided to speak.

“My time is running out, Anna, but I need to tell you one more thing.”

The girl quickly motioned for her to go on, mind already racing at the prospect of seeing her sister, though she did want to pay attention to this one.

“Anna, I’m… from somewhere else. And in my time… something happened. But all I need to say is this: Please, never, never hide behind a door. All I want is for you to be yourself.”

“I truly love you.”

“And when there comes a time when you and me don’t agree, or we fight, or we discover something about ourselves that we think will chase the other away…” The spirit looked as if she knew from experience.

“Please know, you are my true love. No matter what I will always trust your feelings and opinions. If you want to help with queenly duties, I’m going to try and stop you, but only because of how boring they are. If you want to ride our bike around the halls, please, drag me out of the study and take me sledding.” She chuckled.

Anna watched as the memories flashed before the spirits eyes, almost as if they were happening in real time. Elsa now stared clearly into her eyes though, and said another remark.

“Anna, always remember, I love you. I trust you completely. And I trust that you won’t take advantage of it. I’ve always had some… issues with self-control. I let fear decide my fate. But you, you can free me from that. You can help me with more of it, or you can rip down my walls. And I’ll always know that you will put my comfort first, no matter how much I wish you didn’t.”

Tears gathered in the spirits eyes again, remembering her past.

“All I ask is that you make sure you communicate. You need a balance. You should not be suffering for my peace of mind, nor should I. And-“

She looked down to find herself evaporating into snowflakes. Fear rushed into her eyes and she looked back to Anna, expression pleading with sincerity.

“Just remember one thing, if nothing else,”

Anna listened as intently as she could, watching her sister fade away.

“I love you, An-…”

Lips hit her cheek and disappeared, air clearing the empty room where the spirit used to be. Anna sat with wide eyes, trying to recall every word she said as she watched the snowflakes float away and out of the window.

The white, crystalline hexagons of ice floated away, but as the princess watched them go her eyes found their way to the waters beyond.

The fjord.

As she looked out to the fjord, the sky darkened and the words echoed inside her head. As if in a trance, she stared out at the setting sun over the water, the sloshing waves crashing on the coast. The blue seemed to deepen the more she stared into it, but her mind didn’t stop the daze from consuming her thoughts. Instead, she sat still and looked into the waters with increasing intensity, her mind stuck in a limbo of conscious thought and hazy half-awake remarks. All the while, she stared out to the fjord and it calmed with time as ships stopped leaving the harbor, but still she was frozen, eyes blurry and numb.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

“-na…”

The Spirit returned to Ahtohallan in a flash of light, snowflakes dissipating in the dome of memories.

‘Who knew that a magical memory dome would also let me travel back to the past?’ She thought.

Then, like the water flooding from the dam, a new set of memories flashed inside her mind. These swirled in her mind but she blinked away the dizziness, finally thinking clearly.

She gasped.

“I brought her back…” She said out loud. Smile growing and magic surrounding her, she shouted,

“I brought her back!”

The dome flared with the emotions and Elsa sprinted out of the cave, rushing back to run into Anna’s arms.

The pieces had been broken, but Elsa put them back together, and with time, the cracks healed to reveal a girl more resilient than before and someone who had learned, did not stay broken. The cracks were small, but still there, and everyday Elsa helped her. And when Elsa would start to crack, Anna would help her instead.

It was a balance.

And they were finally able to be free.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Anna, back at the window, snapped out of her daze, remembering the words she had heard.

“Just come on in…”

“I trust you.”

“I trust you not to take advantage of that.”

“If nothing else…”

“I love you.”

Her cheek burned like frostbite, or as if she had been out in a winter storm and got in a steaming bath. All she could focus on was the cadence with which Elsa spoke of her.

“I love you.”

“She loves me…” Anna numbly answered.

Something in her mind screamed that this wasn’t real, it had to be a hallucination, there’s no way that her sister could have kept so much from her. She couldn’t have kept… being the spirit of an enchanted forest from her.

‘But why else would she lock herself in her room?’

‘Maybe she doesn’t know…’

‘But what about the snowflakes? Does she have magic?’

‘She… maybe she doesn’t know about the spirit thing, but maybe the snow?’

‘She’s hidden so much from you. You should be mad.’

‘No. She trusts me. She loves me. Our parents locked her in that room and she doesn’t know what to do. She has panic attacks for gods’ sakes! And I’ll never know unless I go in there.’

Anna moved from the window and looked back to her moonlit room. She knew that this was going to be hard. She knew that Elsa wouldn’t be so open as her… other self.

But she had an invitation into her room, that was a start.

And soon, she’d be able to know who her sister is. If only she took the first step.

Anna shut the door behind her, leaving her anxiety and fear in the room with it. The hall seemed so much shorter now, the white, looming door just a few meters away.

But now, the door stood in front of her, the familiar sight immediately giving her chills as she looked on warily, but this was it, this was her chance. No amount of buildup could prepare her for this moment, so all she did was knock.

Tap. Tap. Ta-Tap. Tap.

…

…

…

“Come in…” a soft voice uttered, completely entrancing Anna by simply existing.

The handle turned in her grip, the spindle sliding as she pushed down with her hand until-

Pop!

The white, overloading door slid open slightly, silently swiveling in her hold. It was now or never, and Anna chose to push.

A familiar yet completely new woman greeted her as she walked into the room. Hair over her shoulder in a braid, eyes mixed with both wariness and love, it was her.

Elsa.

“I think we have a lot to talk about, Anna.” The Queen started.

As Anna walked into the room, shutting the door behind her, she responded,

“Yeah, I think we do…”