#woke up about to puke from stress after wasting two weeks and doing nothing to built a robot for a contest I left for last minute AGAIN

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 7

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (woops the longest part yet)

Summary: You finally decide to lower your pride and talk things out with Bucky.

Warnings: SMUT IS BACK BABIES! Oral (f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, also lots of alcohol consumption, Bucky stalking you, annoying people I guess? Uhhh y’all might want to strangle me at the end lmfaooooo

A/N: I’m gonna be honest, every single time I update this I get nervous as fuck because what if this story starts to suck lmao but okay I just hope everyone’s still enjoying this story. Thank you for the continuous support like fuck??? People actually like reading my shit so I’m really flattered. Sending y’all sloppy kisses ‘cause I’m a hoe like that

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

"Uhh you might want to slow down on the drinks."

Mark was right about the bar serving the best drinks. It was actually a Mexican-themed bar which also served Tex-Mex food. The drinks were so good that the main course hasn't even arrived yet and you were already on your third frozen margarita.

"Let me have this, Mark. It's been a pretty shitty week." you told him, finishing up your drink before asking the waiter for another round.

Mark watched you with a funny look on his face, the kind that was baffled at the way you were acting now. He probably thought you were all prim and proper, given your demeanor at the office. But with the way you were stuffing your mouth with chicken quesadillas, you were far from being the department head that everybody seemed to respect.

Stress eating. That was what you were doing, because holy shit did you get on Bucky's last nerve. With the message, no, more like warning, that he sent you earlier, you might as well have your last meal before your execution.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mark carefully asked but there was a hint of amusement in his voice as he watched you eat.

You hummed, mouth full of food. "Totally okay. These quesadillas are the bomb, actually."

Mark laughed, "It's good that you're enjoying the food. I'll be honest, I really appreciate that you agreed to go on this date. I mean, if you even would like to call it that." he explained, much to your relief actually.

You swallowed your food and took a sip from your glass of water, "Thank you." you told him. "Well, this can be a date. A friendly one, of course." you awkwardly chuckled.

Mark nodded, "I don't want to pressure you into anything. I guess I got a little to enthusiastic earlier and I'm really sorry for that. It's just that...you're a really interesting person and you're cool." he admitted with a charming smile.

If Bucky was out of the picture, you would have actually swooned at Mark's charm. He wasn't so bad, he was tall and handsome. He oozed a certain charm, the nice guy kind of charm and any girl would really appreciate the honesty he was showing you now.

You smiled at him, "You're pretty cool too, Mark."

-

The friendly date was very fun, you definitely didn't expect to enjoy it to the point of forgetting about Bucky's warning. Mark was a nice guy, you realized. Bucky doesn't have to worry about him because it was never even your intention to make him jealous in the first place.

By the time the dessert was being served, you were bellowing from laughter. You literally had tears in your eyes from how hard Mark was making you laugh with his hilarious stories.

Little did you know that from someone else's point of view, you looked like you were having the time of your life with Mark. Your laughter, the ease you were exuding as the both of you talked-- it was very easy to misunderstand.

Especially if that point of view belonged to none other than Bucky, who was sitting silently inside his car that was parked right across the bar.

"Oh god, I can't breathe!" you exclaimed amid your laughter, leaning back against your seat.

Mark heaved out a shy, "That was really, really embarassing." he said timidly.

Mark's phone buzzed in the middle of the conversation, his face turning into a frown as he read the message.

"Hey, everything okay?" you worriedly asked.

"It's my younger sister. I'm needed back home." he explained with a sigh.

"Is everything okay?" you asked worriedly, holding Mark's arm to comfort him.

Mark nodded, "It's fine. It's just a little family emergency." he said before offering you an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I can drop you off on the way home--"

"Hey, it's fine. You can go. I'll be fine. Your family needs you." you reassured with a smile.

Mark sighed, "I'll make it up to you next time." he said, fishing out a couple of bills from his wallet.

You walked out of the bar with Mark and bid goodbye, giving him a friendly hug before he slipped inside his car. As soon as Mark drove off, you headed back inside the bar and ordered a couple of shots because you badly needed to get Bucky off your mind.

-

Your head was pounding when you stirred awake, your throat burning and vision spinning as you opened your eyes. The light that greeted you made you hiss, pulling the covers over your head you tried to get back to your slumber.

Until you realized that the bed was soft, too soft to be your own. And when did you even own a duvet?

Slowly but surely, you sat up and looked around you, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. This was definitely not your room. Shit, did you sleep with Mark? Fuck no, you remembered him going home early due to a family emergency.

You squeezed your temples and shut your eyes, trying your best to recall everything that happened after you went back to the bar. Flashes of tequila shots and glasses of mojitos made you dizzy. Jesus christ, how many did you drink?!

And then you threw up in the streets as you attempted to walk home. Shit. Someone pulled your hair back while you puked and then there was nothing but darkness.

Pulling the duvet down, you noticed that you weren't wearing anything but a white shirt and your panties. You lifted the shirt up to your nose and sniffed it.

The scent was too memorable to forget.

"I thought you wouldn't be up until the afternoon."

You stilled at the sound of Bucky's voice and you almost didn't want to look up from your lap when he walked into his bedroom. How the hell did you end up at his place?!

"Four frozen margaritas, two shots of tequila and two tall glasses of mojito. I'm surprised you're still alive." he said as he stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

He was wearing a tight black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. This was the most casual you'd ever seen Bucky, but also the most feral. You thought that the scowl he gave you at the elevator was the worst, apparently, this Bucky in front of you, seemed the most dangerous.

"Why am I here?" you asked softly.

Bucky rolled his eyes and walked over to the bed side table, fetching the glass of water and a bottle of painkillers that you failed to notice when you woke up.

"Drink." he commanded and waited for you to take the glass before moving back to stand at the foot of the bed.

Your eyes never left Bucky's when you popped a pill into your mouth. After drinking water, you carefully placed it back on the bedside table and exhaled heavily.

"What happened last night?" you asked again.

"Your date left you." Bucky said, matter of factly.

You snickered, "It wasn't a date and Mark didn't le--"

Your very own squeal cut your statement off when Bucky threw the duvet aside, grabbing your ankle and pulling you towards the edge of the bed until your legs were hanging off. He didn't waste any time to kneel in between your thighs, holding your neck in place as his nose brushed against yours.

Your lids fluttered at the closeness, his scent yet again invading your senses, making you lose all your inhibitions because fuck, it's been too fucking long.

"Let me have this, please..." Bucky whispered against your lips.

When you failed to respond, Bucky took it as his go signal to crash his lips against yours. You knew this was a bad idea because one taste of Bucky and you're gone and yet you let him take what he needed from you.

Because you needed him just as much. So you kissed him back fervently, your fingers carding through his hair as you tugged him closer, wanting to feel and taste all of him.

Bucky breathily chuckled when you whined as he pulled away, only to shower your neck with open-mouthed kisses which made your body buzz with need. Your head was still hurting and you felt like you were going to pass out from dizziness but fuck it, you couldn't care less. Especially not now when Bucky was now nipping at your inner thigh while his hands were spreading you wide open.

All your thoughts flew right out of the window the moment Bucky pushed your underwear aside, his mouth quickly latching over your clit. A needy, raspy moan escaped your lips when Bucky sucked your bud followed by his tongue flattening against your folds.

"Fuck, Bucky..." you breathed out, falling down on your back as he continued lapping up your pussy.

You'd almost forgotten how fucking good Bucky was with his mouth and tongue. You elicited another whimper when he pulled back, but only to stand up and pull down his sweatpants, revealing his cock-- already hard and weeping with pre-cum.

In one swift motion, Bucky slid into your cunt. He leaned down to kiss you, swallowing your moans as you adjusted to his size. With how your pussy was clenching down on his cock, you realized that indeed, it's been too fucking long.

Bucky moved slow at first, letting you adjust to him before he began to speed up his thrusts. His breathing was erratic, soft grunts and growls reverberating from his chest as he fucked you. You gripped his forearms when he started pistoling his hips into yours, the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

"Want you to watch me fuck you." he growled, pulling you up to lean against your elbows.

Bucky held your neck with both his hands, forcing you to look down at your pussy while his cock slides in and out of it. Your face scrunched into pleasure, your mouth open as moans and whimpers continued to escape past your lips.

"Keep your eyes on my cock, see how your pussy takes all of it." Bucky demanded as he fucked you relentlessly.

Your thighs began to tremble, your entire body thrumming from pleasure. You tried to keep your eyes open as you watched Bucky fuck you fast and hard. Clawing at his biceps, you held on for dear life when you felt yourself teeter at the edge of your climax.

"Gonna cum, Bucky..." you moaned as your eyelids fluttered.

Bucky kissed your hard, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth before tugging at it. He pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear, licking at your skin before sucking your earlobe.

"Remember this when that Marcus fails to fuck you real good." he whispered and then pulled out just before you could even cum.

You blinked, unable to process what just happened. Bucky stood up and pulled his sweatpants back up. He rubbed his chin angrily before turning to you.

"You really blew me off to be with a guy who left you at the bar." he said.

Bucky really seduced you, fucked you raw only to edge you and deny you of your fucking orgasm. And now he was reprimanding you? While your legs were spread, panties pushed aside and your wet pussy out there for the world to see. You quickly adjusted your underwear, pulled your shirt down and sat up.

"What the fuck, Bucky?" you hissed. "First of all, his name is Mark. Second, he didn't leave me at the bar!" you exclaimed before you realized something.

"Wait, how did you know?" you asked, finally realizing that Bucky seemed to know everything that took place last night. "Bucky, did you follow me at the bar? Is this why I'm here?" you asked, standing up to come face to face with him.

Bucky shrugged, "So what if I did? If I didn't, you'd wake up in the streets, in your own vomit because again, you went for a guy who couldn't even bring her girl home. You should actually thank me." he said.

"Thank you!" you yelled. "I appreciate you bringing me back to your place. I really do." you said, calmly this time. "But can you please not bring Mark into this because he's a nice guy." you explained, squeezing the bridge of your nose.

Bucky snorted, "You call that nice? He left you!" he said again.

"He didn't! There was an emergency, for fuck's sake! He needed to go home and I said I can take care of myself." you said. "I shouldn't even be explaining myself to you yet I am because you're being really irrational right now." you scolded Bucky.

Bucky shook his head, "You really expect me to believe you? I saw how you laughed with him, how carefree you looked when you talked. How you caressed his arm and you're asking me not to bring Mickey into this conversation?"

You hid your face into your palms, "It wasn't a date, Bucky. We both made it clear. And he's a good person, I enjoyed talking to him. That's it. And again, it's Mark." you said through gritted teeth.

"Not a date my ass, you were flirting with him." Bucky accused.

You scoffed, "I wasn't flirting with him! I was casually talking to him like how a friend would! How hard is that to understand, Bucky?!" you exclaimed.

"You were never like that with me!"

"It's because we did nothing but fuck each other, Bucky!"

"That's why I wanted to make it official but you said no!"

"I already told you the reason why!"

"And yet you went out with a co-worker!"

"We're not just co-workers, Bucky. You're my fucking boss! The fucking CEO! How many times do I have to...you know what, it's useless for me to even explain it again to you." you said.

Bucky chuckled bitterly, "You're going to regret this." he said with a sinister smirk.

"Why can't you understand where I'm coming from?" you asked exasperatedly.

"Maybe because you won't let me help you." he said confidently. "And you know what I hate the most about this thing we have? It's that you want me too but you're too stubborn to give in. And you know what? I'll make sure you do." Bucky said, towering over you and staring deeply in your eyes.

"What I want, I always get."

-

The weekend passed by like a blur-- a huge, messy blur that made your head and heart hurt. You wanted to spend the weekend to ponder on things, to forget about Bucky even for just a while and now that was impossible after everything that happened.

You caved in first, that was for sure. And the thing is, you don't even regret it but then Bucky exploded and now everything seemed to have gotten worse. You understood why he was so mad at Mark, poor guy though, but he wouldn't even listen to you when you said that the date wasn't even a legitimate one!

"What the fuck did I get myself into?" you uttered under your breath as you sat in your car in the parking.

You began to analyze the situation you were in and drew out possible solutions to your dilemma. Nothing a good conversation can't solve, right? So maybe talking things out with Bucky properly would make things right. The previous conversations you had with him were always too emotional with both your egos getting in the way.

Alright fine, you'd tone down your pride for Bucky this time around and tell him that you do want to be with him. It's just that the repercussions scared the living daylights out of you.

You can't afford to lose your job nor everyone's respect. So if you were going to do this with Bucky, he has to understand that he has to be really careful. Everything must be done in secret, for the meantime at least.

"That sounds about right." you sighed, feeling hopeful that this might actually work out.

The shift in your mood gave you a little bounce as you walked into the building. You were confident that maybe Bucky was able to calm down over the weekend. Perhaps today was a good day to have a decent talk with him.

As soon as you reached your floor, you hurriedly went to your cubicle to drop your things. The earlier you get to talk to Bucky, the better. So as soon as you were done, you jogged back to the elevator excitedly, unable to notice how everyone seemed to be preoccupied gossiping about something.

Your heart was pounding as you walked along the corridor leading to Bucky's office. Fuck, you were really going to risk it all for one Bucky Barnes. You were a few steps away from the door, ready to reach for the knob when an unfamiliar voice called your attention.

"I'm sorry?" you asked, turning around.

"Sir James said not to let anyone disturb him right now." you were met with the presence of a blonde girl who looked younger than you, an intern maybe?

You nodded but then spared another glance at Bucky's office. "Yeah, I uhh need to talk to him. It's usually not a problem for me to barge into his office." you explained with a soft chuckle.

The girl made a face, "I'm sorry, but I'm just following Sir James' orders." she explained, walking around the desk near Bucky's office.

"I don't think we've met. Are you an intern?" you asked, trying to be as nice as much as possible.

The girl giggled, straight on giggled cutely and stood up again. She excitedly extended an arm for an overly eager handshake, "I'm Beverly. I'm Sir James' secretary. It's my first job!"

You blinked, "Oh...oh uh what happened to Amelie?" you asked, curious about Bucky's previous secretary.

Beverly tilted her head, "I don't know. I just got a call over the weekend from Sir James, offering me the job so I accepted it. I mean, he is pretty cute. Right?" she said in a soft voice.

Is this Bucky's plan? To hire a younger, more bubbly secretary who'd follow his every order? Someone who was the complete opposite of you? Because if this was his plan to get you to cave, it wasn't working. At all.

Sure, Beverly was pretty and young and very chirpy. But you were sure she wasn't Bucky's type. He was never into obedient little girls, hell, your defiance turned Bucky on. This was definitely not working.

You didn't know why, but instead of relief you felt even more nervous. Because if this wasn't Bucky's threat to you, what could it be? You snapped out of your pessimism, maybe Bucky came around over the weekend too?

Only one way to find out.

"Beverly..." you carefully said. "I'm just going to go inside. And don't worry, I'll make sure that Mister Barnes won't get mad at you. This is all me, alright?" you reassured.

Beverly pouted and sighed, "I don't know, because he was very clear with his instructions. And he's talking to--"

"I got you, Bev. I'm going in now." you said, cutting her off and then going straight for Bucky's office.

Taking in a deep breath, you pushed the door open and wasted no time to talk.

"Hey, I really need to talk to you. I thought about--"

"Oh, who's this little lady?"

Your eyes widened upon seeing Bucky in the company of another woman. She looked like she was around your age, except that she was taller and had legs for days. Her brunette hair reached past her shoulders in lovely waves. She was wearing a white chiffon blouse paired with a pair of black trousers and matching stilettos.

She oozed the charm of a lady boss. The way she carried herself reminded you of someone but you just couldn't point out who it was.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." you said, straightening up and turning to look over at Bucky who lifted a brow at you.

That fucking look of mischief.

"I told Beverly not to let anyone in." he said.

"I just wanted to--"

"Oh come on now, Bucky. Don't be so grumpy this early, you were about to call everyone for a meeting anyway." the woman said, turning to you with a smile.

Did she just call him...Bucky?

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Bucky rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yeah, well you're already here might as well introduce you first."

You narrowed your eyes at Bucky in confusion, "I don't understand what's going on." you said.

Bucky stood up from his chair and walked over to the other woman, standing beside her. Seeing them side by side was making you feel things. You haven't even seen them interact that much but you were already sensing that you were going to hate their dynamics.

"This is Mackenzie. I hired her to help us out on a huge project which I will be discussing with the entire team this morning." Bucky introduced a little too proudly for your liking.

Mackenzie offered her hand, "You can just call me Kenzie. I'm a marketing consultant. And you are?" she asked.

Your blood boiled, your eye twitched and your heart ached. Because now you realized who it was that Mackenzie reminded you of when it came to her charisma.

You.

And not only did she have a similar personality to yours-- confident and had authority-- but she also seemed to be here to take the one thing you worked so hard for.

You offered a smile, taking Mackenzie's hand in yours as you mentioned your name, your piercing eyes glancing over at Bucky.

"I'm the head of marketing."

-

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag​ @weird-mumbling​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @mostly-marvel-musings​ @squishybabies​ @megzdoodle​ @suchababie​ @annathesillyfriend​ @xhollycowx​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @gogolucky13​ @countonthesun​ @iloveshawnieboi​ @learisa​ @borikenlove​ @scarlet-natasha89​

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii​ @jessou893​ @stealapizzamyheart​ @bagelofthelord​ @mxnt​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky​ @ohladymacbeth​ @wildflowergubler​ @supraveng​ @twinerd14​ @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3​ @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm​ @charminivy​ @amelia-song-pond​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​ @mcubqrnes @im-squished​ @tcc-gizmachine​ @sipsteacasually​ @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin​ @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

[barnesbabee]

The Boss Doesn’t Like It || C.J

Summary: Don’t fuck around where you shouldn’t be.

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Words: Bruh ngl it’s long as fuuuuck :/

Genre: Smut, Angst

⚠ Mafia!au, metion of drugs, mentions of blood, usage of guns, degrading, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, thigh kink ⚠

A/N: This is for the lovers of the Mafia!au then. Enojy 💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

    His hand flew across your cheek, and an incredible, stinging pain spread through your face.

    “I’m gonna ask this one more fucking time, and you better answer properly, or else…” The dark-haired male pulled a gun from his thigh gun holster.

    He pressed the cold barrel to your temple harshly, forcing you to slightly cock your head. You were trying your best to remain calm and not seem pathetic, but you couldn’t help and freak out a little over the gun pointed at your head. Breathing was suddenly hard and small beads of sweat rolled down your forehead.

    “I’ve fucking told you three times. I don’t work for anyone. You got the wrong idea, it’s not my fault.”

   It was entirely your fault. You should have told your drug dealer to fuck off, that he was going to deliver them to you in a reasonable place and that you sure as Hell wouldn’t step into that part of the town, but of course your thought process didn’t go as far as considering the consequences of your dangerous actions.

    The very second you stepped foot into the dark street decorated with used syringes, broken glass and rusty knives, you were knocked out by a harsh blow to the head. You woke up tied to a chair, in a cold, cement room that had nothing but a table with pristine tools on top of it, that, to be honest, scared the living shit out of you.

    The tall mal smacked you with the gun barrel, proceeding to shove it back where he had taken it from. You winced at the pain, and soon after felt the warm blood.

    He turned his back, visibly infuriated by the response, and walked towards the metal door.

    “She doesn’t leave.” He told the man standing outside, just as he walked away from the scenario.

   The door was slammed shut with a loud noise. You finally let yourself break down, and never-ending tears streamed down your face as you bit your lower lip to try and suppress your sobs. You felt like puking. You felt claustrophobic because of the tight ropes you couldn’t wriggle out of.

    Suddenly, just as you were about to lose hope, your eyes landed on the tool table. The scalpel. You looked towards the door and started conjuring a way out, before they eventually killed you, or made you bleed to death. If you tried to move closer to the table in your current situation, the chair would creak against the floor and the man outside would hear you. He had to be gone… But how on earth would you be able to do that…

   An idea popped into your head, and you remembered your previous thoughts.

   You felt like puking.

   You bent over in the chair so that the ropes would be pressing tighter against the mouth of the stomach, triggering your gag reflex. You immediately started salivating and gagging in the air, loudly.

   The man outside heard this and burst inside immediately. He saw you hunching over, salivating onto the floor. The male gripped your hair and forced your body back to his original position. He removed his hand and approached his face to yours.

   “Boss doesn’t like his shit messy, so if you puke you’ll clean it right back up”

   You took the proximity of your faces as the perfect opportunity. You swung your head back and smashed it against his nose as hard as your body allowed you to. The man stumbled back and, by pure luck (for you), hit his head on the pipe behind him, and fell to the ground unconscious. 

    You wasted no time in grabbing the scalpel once you had gotten close enough to the table, and started by undoing the ropes around your wrists, then around your torso, and finally around your feet. Before you fleed the room, you rummaged through the man’s body until you found a gun. Did you know how to use it? No, but you felt safer with it in your hands knowing that probably everyone you’d run into had one of these with them.

    You blindly made your way through the halls, just praying to God that wherever you were going lead to a way out. Surprisingly enough, you were able to escape the building. The gun immediately slipped from your hands the second you stepped into the outside world and you ran away like some monster was out to get you. You didn’t stick around to hear the boss’ angry yell when he found that some mere girl was able to knock out the man whose specific instructions were to not let you out, and then escape. 

   He was beyond furious, because you had beat him. And no one beats Jongho. He swore on his life he’d find you and bring you back, and then he’d decide your fate.

   Enveloped with fear and paranoia, you barely left the house the following month, only when it was absolutely necessary. But as time passed, and as the weeks went by, you felt safer, the crazy thoughts washed away and you felt like you could start living your life again. Slowly your life began coming back, and as a celebration, one night, you hesitantly left your apartment and made your way to the club as a way of cheering for your returned freedom. 

    As the night went on, you started becoming more free and careless, living the party. Every shot you took was like piecing back together your confidence, and you eventually let go of your worries as the music played through your body. 

   The third song since you had been on the dance floor started playing, and you felt a pair of hands encircle your waist and pull you closer. Your back hit their chest and for a second you were worried and a little anxious, but when you glanced over your shoulder to see the person’s face, you were pleasantly surprised. You smiled at the good-looking, red-haired stranger and he replied with a smirk.

    “Hey pretty.” He whispered in your ear.

   Instead of replying, you began moving your body once more, swaying your hips to the music, making sure your ass was grinding against his crotch. His grunts and small squeezed were an incentive to keep going, and you gladly did.

    He lowered his head, so his lips would be leveled with your right ear.

    “What do you say we take this somewhere else, beautiful?”

   You turned around and encircled his neck with your arms. You placed a long, teasing kiss on his plump lips and pulled away right after, wanting to give him just a taste of what awaited him. 

    “Let’s go?” You asked, stepping away from the male’s body. 

   He answered your question by placing his hand on your ass and squeezing it, while he lead the two of you out of the crowded club. 

   Your legs were a little wobbly as you tried to keep up with the pace of his long legs. Your eyes wandered around the place you were heading towards. It was… odd. It was very dark and it seemed empty, compared to the rest of the city. A chill ran down your spine and you decided to walk a little bit behind the stranger, as you started feeling the fear creeping up again. You wanted to ignore it, because it was most probably still remains of your previous fright, but you couldn’t shake it. When the male grabbed your wrist and pulled you into an alleyway, you stopped being scared and became terrified.

    Everything was dark, but you could make out three figures standing in front of you.

   “W-what’s going on?” You asked and gulped.

   Your mind immediately went to the worst-case scenarios: kidnapping, sex traffic, you name it. Your legs were visibly shaking, until a car’s headlights turned on. Your body froze and you covered the light with your hand for a second, as it was too blinding. When you moved your hand and looked at the men standing in front of you, you became unable to think. There stood the male you had been avoiding for months, the man you swore you were safe from. 

   Your heart beat a million times per second, it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest at any second and breathing became hard.

   “Good job Mingi.” He said, in a stern voice to the man beside you. 

   You watched as the stranger that you had been following up until now nodded his head and joined the other men in front of the car. 

    The male you tried to avoid started stepping towards you, and, just as he opened his mouth to say something, you felt dizzy, and you suddenly felt light. It was all too overwhelming, too terrifying, and you couldn’t take it. You didn’t remember anything else, but the cold feeling of the floor as your body collapsed.

    You woke up, cold and uncomfortable. You tried to move, but you were obviously restrained by something. Your head was pounding, and for a second all you remembered were the insane amount of shots you took. When the rest of the memories hit you, however, your eyes shot open and you sat up, wherever you were. You moved a little too quickly and so your vision became blurry for a second, but that didn’t stop you from frantically looking around the room, trying to make out where you were.

     Oh great...

    One of your hands was handcuffed to the pipe in the room you had once been tied in a chair, except this time the tool table was nowhere to be seen. You cursed yourself for being so naive the previous night and following that stranger into this mess… 

    Whoever you were dealing with was smart, that much you could deduct. They must have been following you for weeks, tracing you and camping outside your home for the longest time, and you hadn’t even noticed. You shivered at how terrifying that was.

    Long streams of tears escaped your eyes, and you honestly couldn’t tell if they were from the stress, fear, desperation, or sadness. You reached your free hand up to your cheeks and wiped the tears. You looked at your fingers after your face was dry and saw all of the black mascara smeared on them.

    “I’m gonna die ugly I can’t believe this…”

    And so you began to cry once more at the thought of death. 

   The big door burst open and slammed against the wall. A red-haired male you recognized from the previous night approached you holding a key and knelt down next to you, beginning to undo your handcuff. The memories of what he had done to you hit you like a truck, and the shame and fury bubbling inside of you couldn’t be contained. You gathered all of the courage you had in you (which was not much at this point) and spat in his face. Straight between his pretty, cat-like eyes.

    “Asshole.” 

    He looked at you with a threatening expression and you cowered a little in your spot. The male cleaned the saliva on his face with the sleeve of his sweater.

    “I was doing my job.”

   You rolled your eyes and let yourself be pulled up by the man after he had uncuffed you. You didn’t try to run, you weren’t completely dumb and you were totally aware that not only was he much stronger, he was probably much faster too. 

   He pulled you along for a couple of meters and up a flight of stairs until you reached a pair of big, dark wood doors. The man opened the door, threw you in, and slammed it close, leaving you in there to your own fate.

   “You know….”

  You stopped facing the door and turned around to look at the familiar voice’s owner. He was wearing a white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, tucked inside a pair of black jeans. The male seemed to miss the point of a button-up shirt, as it was very much ‘buttoned-down’.

   You watched each of his moves carefully and warily, as you were a little concerned about what awaited you. 

   “I’m very curious about how you managed to escape. Yeosang won’t tell me, admittedly because he must be very embarrassed a girl we came to find out is just a university student managed to knock him out and escape,” He paused, sipped on his whiskey and walked towards you, until you were chest to chest “ and I’m very, very, interested in your little endeavor.”

    You pushed him away with your index finger, very disturbed by the proximity. He looked at your finger curiously, and honestly amused about the way you behaved before someone who owned several guns and had threatened you before with one. 

    “I used my head, okay? Just kill me or torture me or do whatever you’re going to do, get it over with.” You didn’t want to go any farther.

    Jongho shrugged and leaned against his desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest in the process. 

    “You know princess, the problem is, I don’t know what it is that I’m going to do to you…”

   You looked at him confusedly, what kind of gang member was he? Did they just spin the wheel to decide what to do?

   “What is that supposed to mean?...” You question, crossing your arms as well.

   “What’s your name, princess?” 

   The pet name left his lips in such a natural way that you couldn’t help but like the sound of it.

   “You can just keep calling me princess.”

   Jongho chuckled and smirked, absolutely in love with your fierceness. Perhaps it was bravery, perhaps it was stupidity, but whatever it was, Jongho had never seen it in a woman and he was stunned, to say the least.

    “I like you, princess. I like the way you behave. You came into this side of town, got captured by Mafia members, got threatened by their boss and didn’t give a fuck, proceeded to knock down one of them, left the building, then you were caught again and now you’re here,” He approached you once more, this time taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head up to look him in the eye properly “talking down to the Boss.”

    You shivered in place, but maintained your confident posture. Jongho chuckled, his gaze never leaving yours.

    His eyes traveled along your body, followed by his hands that explored your curves shamelessly. 

    “I might just need to give you a punishment for being such a brat…”

   “You’re a lucky one.”

   You looked at the tall man that lead you to a random room you hadn’t been told what it was. 

    “How am I lucky?”

   He glanced at you as if you were stupid and chuckled.

   “Jongho took a liking to you, he’s invited you for dinner, pretty. You’re lucky you didn’t get on his bad side after what you did… My best guess was that you were going to die, in the best-case scenario.”

    You swallowed dryly, a little thankful for having a future to look upon. 

    “Here it is, fix yourself, you look like shit.”

    You scoffed at the tall male and entered the room. It was an enormous bathroom, marble-decorated bathroom. You looked yourself in the mirror, fuck, you did look like pure shit. Disheveled hair, runny makeup, and torn up dress. You questioned Jongho’s taste in women for a second…

   Your thoughts came to a halt when you saw white fabric sitting on the counter right beside you. It had a small, handwritten note. You picked it up to read it.

   ‘Wear this tonight, if it doesn’t fit you can wear nothing ;)’

   How long ago had he planned this!?

   Nonetheless, you stripped from yourself and cleaned your face the best you could so you could slip on the white dress without staining it. You had to admit, Jongho knew how to dress women well. The dress was absolutely stunning: it was a white, off-shoulder dress with a v-neck and a pencil skirt. 

    You fixed your hair quickly and made a braid out of it with the hair tie that was always on your wrist. Admittedly the dress was a little tight, but it was better than the other option.

    You opened the bathroom door once you were done and found the same tall, blue-haired man waiting for you.

    “Ready?”

   You nodded, and he silently lead you through the halls to what you supposed was the dining area.

    “Behave, Jongho isn’t as friendly as he looks.” The tall man advised before opening the door.

   He pushed it open for you to enter. Before getting in you looked over your shoulder.

   “Jongho seems to enjoy it when I misbehave.”

   You winked and finally stepped into the dining room. Jongho was already there, now in black dress pants instead of his previous jeans, looking outside of the building.

    When he heard the door close, he turned around.

    “Princess, you look beautiful. Although I have to say I’m a little disappointed you didn’t choose option number two.”

    You smiled at the cheesy joke and joined him looking at the pretty sunset. 

    The male noticed how the dress hugged your body, and suddenly the most beautiful sight wasn’t the sunset.

    Jongho’s eyes were glued to how well he could see every single of your curves through the dress. Your big bust, your wide hips, your thick thighs… The man grabbed your hips and pushed you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body. You were a little taken aback at the sudden movements.

    “You know, I don’t think I can wait until after dinner, I might have to punish you now.”

    “Wait but-”

    “Y/N,” He paused, and his tumb caressed your lower lip “you misbehaved, you’re lucky you’re not dead.”

   He did know your name. Of course he did…

    “Although depending on what your sexual preferences are, you might wish I had just killed you after what I’m going to do to you.” 

    You had never felt like this. You had never felt the urge to become this submissive to anybody… Excitement took over you and every trace of discomfort evaporated as you gave into his touch.

    Jongho noticed the shift in your behavior and smirked. He swung you over his shoulder, as if your body was made out of feathers, and made way for his bedroom. You were surprised at how easily he lifted you, and you couldn’t help but imagine how effortlessly he could maneuver you.

    Once he’d reached the bedroom, he closed the door with his foot and threw you on his king-sized bed. You watched him undress from his shirt at the speed of light before hovering over you, each leg beside your waist. One of his hands held him up while the other caressed your thigh.

    “I can’t fucking wait to take you off of this dress.” He whispered.

   Your hands caressed his arms, feeling and squeezing his biceps that you now loved. 

   “Why don’t you then?” 

   His eyes turned a darker shade and his hands immediately gripped the hem of your dress and peeled it off of your body. The tight fabric gave you no space for a bra, so as soon as you fell back on the bed, your boobs bounced on your chest, and Jongho’s cock hardened.

   He gripped both of your tits in his hands.

   “No bra? Such a fucking slut… Practically begging to be fucked.”

   He lowered himself so his lips could meet yours in a harsh, sloppy kiss. Your spit mixed with his as your tongues fought for dominance in a fight you were sure to lose. Jongho pinched your nipples, causing you to whimper and buck your hips. As you did so, your crotch rubbed against Jongho’s, making him groan into the kiss.

   He pulled away from the kiss and attached his lips to your neck, pampering it with kisses until he found soft spots. He bit down of them and sucked harshly, then making sure to lick around the place that would be marked soon enough. As he worked on your neck, his hand teased your clothed pussy.

   “I’m gonna fuck you so well princess, I’m gonna make you scream my name.” He said against your neck.

   You chuckled and sucked in a breath.

   “Are you sure you can do that?”

    Jongho’s grip on you grew tighter and he locked eyes with you for a second. The look in his eyes told you you’d struck a nerve, and you felt satisfied with yourself. Jongho’s fingers pulled your panties down and threw them on the floor of his bedroom.

    The man undid his belt and pulled down his zipper so he could strip from his pants. Then, in one swift movement, he wrapped his arm around your waist, sat on the edge of the bed, and placed you on his bare thigh. The feeling of your naked core against his skin alone made you hiss.

   Jongho grabbed your ass and spanked it harshly.

   “Ride it.”

   You looked at him as if the instructions were unclear, and he slapped your ass once more.

   “I’m gonna make you ride my thigh until you beg for my cock you fucking whore.”

   He gripped your hair and brought your face closer to his. You whimpered in pleasure when you felt his fingers tug on your hair.

   “You like this? Hm? Let’s see if you can take it, start moving baby girl.”

    Your hips started rocking slowly against his hips, but his big hands on your ass forced you to move faster. Jongho teasingly flexed his thigh against your core, and he could feel the wetness spread on his thigh. 

    You started moving faster looking for a release, but you knew it wasn’t enough, you needed more of him, you wanted more of him. 

   Jongho saw the desperation in your face as you gripped his shoulders and sunk yourself harsher and faster on his thigh. His hands gripped your ass tighter, as he wanted to push you to your limit, he wanted to hear you beg for him, and eventually, you gave in.

    “Jongho… Jongho please I need you.”

   He hummed, not quite please by your words.

   “You need me doing what? What do you need me for?”

   You held back a moan as his thumb found its way to your clit.

   “I-I need you fucking me. I need your cock in me Jongho.”

    Finally happy with your begs, Jongho picked you up effortlessly and pushed you down on his bed. He slid down his boxers, letting his cock hit your bare pussy. You whimpered at how big he was.

     Jongho ran his tip along your folds, teasing your clit with it for a second.

    “You want my cock? Hm? Do you want my cock in you my little whore? Beg for it.” He demanded. 

   You gripped the sheets in anticipation and looked up at him.

   “Please Jongho, please fuck me, I want you in me.”

   With no further notice, Jongho pushed into you. He thrust his hips into your body almost in an animalistic way. The headboard hit the wall violently but you couldn’t hear it, you were too focused on Jongho’s grunts as he fucked into you. 

    Jongho squeezed your sides, loving the way his fingers dipped in your skin.

    Your hands landed on Jongho’s biceps once more, squeezing them. You loved the way he looked so fucking big on top of you.

    He slapped your inner thigh and you whimpered at the pleasurable pain. 

    Jongho hit such a deep spot inside of you, even if you wanted to you couldn’t hold back your squeals and moans. Jongho gripped your waist and flipped you, so he’d be sitting on the bed with you riding him. He just loved to hear the way your ass slapped against his things.

    Your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades as you felt your orgasm building up.

     “J-Jongo fuck… You feel so good…”

    He smacked your ass once more and picked up the pace once he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

    “Cum for me princess, I wanna hear you.”

    You lasted about six more seconds before your body gave in. You slammed down on his cock one last time before an overwhelming orgasm washed over you. You hid your face on the crook of his neck as your whole body shook and you cried for his name. 

   Seeing your bratty, snappy figure crumble like that made something twist inside Jongho, and the final tight feeling of your hole clenching around him threw him over the edge. He shot his warm, thick load inside of you, filling you up to the brim. 

   Neither of you moved, you just sat like sat catching your breaths for a couple of minutes. You only lifted your head when you heard him chuckle. You gave him a puzzled look, and the male ran his hand up and down your back as he planted a kiss on one of the hickeys he’d given you.

    “I think I want to keep you for myself.”

[erin-bo-berin]

Darkest Storms & Brightest Rainbows (Part 2)

MASTERLIST

Part 1

Part 3

Hard Love (unofficial Part 4)

Since I couldn’t leave y’all hanging for too long, here is part 2 of my Spencer/Reader/Cat fic. This is where things kind of go in a different direction from the show, but I thought it would be a nice twist than what we know from the show. This takes place over about a year so that’s why there’s so many skips in time. But in this part, there’s some answered questions from the first part...only to be replaced with more unanswered questions and perhaps another cliffhanger. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 4,168

Rating: G (some angst, some fluff)

Grief is a strange thing.

Some people grieve quietly, away from the public. Others, dive into work or another activity to keep their mind busy as they try to place that grief into something else. Occasionally, people skip grief and go straight to anger, questioning the world why they lost their loved one; but in most cases one grieves normally, keeping the person alive in their memories as the pain fades and becomes easier to live with.

But sometimes, grief can consume you. It can completely engulf your entire body, feeling like every cell of your being has been replaced with sorrow. The world doesn’t seem real as the only world you inhabit is the one inside you, filled with despair and sadness. No one could ever be able to describe it, no one could truly know how awful it feels.

You had never felt such a horrible feeling. At least not until now.

•

It was less than a week later that Spencer’s funeral was held. The amount of people that had shown up was astounding, not that you could blame them. Spencer truly was one of a kind; not only great at his work, but a wonderful person.

You couldn’t help but think the sea of black that surrounded his casket was a metaphor for your current emotional state. The world felt dulled by your pain. 

With nowhere else to go, you were forced to stay at Spencer’s apartment, a blessing and a curse in one.

The dark green walls, the deep brown furniture, the living room filled with shelves and shelves of his books were both comforting and painful at the same time. You couldn’t help but notice just how quiet the entire place felt without him to fill the atmosphere with his knowledge and loving nature.

Almost immediately after the funeral, you took to staying in bed. The deep brown sheets still smelled like him and you didn’t want to leave. You just wanted to stay in this little bubble forever.

•

 The scenery was filled with busy streets, people walking by on the sidewalk and cars and buses zooming past on the street.

He sat at an outdoor table of the small café, sipping his coffee, awaiting his company. It wasn’t long until he spotted her amongst the crowd of pedestrians, her long blonde ponytail swinging as she walked.

“Hey,” she sat down across from him.

“Coffee?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

She pulled out two manila envelopes, ready to get down to business. 

“In here is the information you need to access both of your bank accounts. One here in Moscow, the other in St. Petersburg. Both have enough in them for you to be comfortable while you lay low.”

“Alright,” he took both envelopes and put them in his bag for safe keeping.

“Are you doing okay?”

“I’ll be fine. How is she?”

She blew out a breath, not sure she could tell him just how bad it was.

“Not good.”

“Promise me one thing, okay?”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Take care of her while I’m gone. Please, JJ, that’s all I ask.”

She nodded, moving to stand.

“Be careful, Spence.”

•

It’d been only a month. 30 days since you’d heard the terrible words “Spencer’s gone”.

You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he never made it off the operating table. The bullet had just been too hard to find, there was too much blood, he was crashing too fast.

At least that’s all you could remember being told by the doctors, the numerous members of the BAU and other people you couldn’t remember. It was like the entire experience had been wiped clean from your mind, only bits and pieces of memory flashing here and there.

Your mental health had taken a nosedive. You barely left bed because all you wanted to do was sleep. You ended up losing your job, but you didn’t have enough energy in you to even care. 

You didn’t eat.

You barely managed to get out of bed for a shower. Somehow you stumbled to the shower maybe once a week and that was because your friends made you.

It had been a rotating crew of the team visiting you. 

Mostly it was Penelope, Emily and JJ, but Rossi, Morgan and Tara stopped by a few times too.

Even Hotch showed up.

You could tell just how much your misery bothered him and he, like Morgan, spent his time trying to make things right rather than pay you visits.

Not that you cared all that much.

“We will catch her,” Emily said.

You sat in the middle of the bed, one of the brown sheets in your hand as you played with it, not looking up at your company that was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Spencer wouldn’t want this for you. He wouldn’t want to see you not able to leave bed, not being able to grieve properly,” she said gently.

“I don’t know what Spencer would want. Cause he’s not here, is he?!” Your lower lip trembled, tears threatening again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, brushing away the tears although it did no good since they were falling faster than you could wipe them away.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Emily pulled you into a hug, “We all miss him too.”

She let you cry until you felt completely drained of tears. With all the crying you’d done, you were amazed there were still tears left to shed.

“Have you eaten anything today?” She pulled back, looking at your face.

“I tried to eat some toast this morning, but I threw it up.”

“It’s probably because you haven’t eaten much,” Emily answered, “Do you want me to get you something? We could order a pizza?”

You shake your head, your stomach rolling at the thought of it.

“Thank you, but no.”

When Emily left ten minutes later, you crawled back into bed, shutting your eyes, willing sleep to come and rob you of your memories.

•

“We should tell her.”

“Garcia, no. You know that Hotch advised against it,” Morgan said.

“But she’s miserable,” Emily added.

“Guys, Spencer made us promise we wouldn’t tell her. It’s safer that way. If she knows he’s alive, Cat could come after her to get to him. That’s the last thing he wants,” JJ said.

“I was just over there last night and took her some food. I thought she was going to puke just looking at it. It’s like she’s wasting away to nothing,” Penelope frowned, “Literally and figuratively.”

“Reid was basically all she had, other than us. With no family left, we’re all she has,” Rossi jumped in.

“That’s why we’re not going to give up on her, okay? Or finding Cat,” JJ said, looking around at the other teammates, “We’re going to find this bitch if it’s the last thing we do.”

•

The next time you had company, you were too busy with your head in the toilet to hear anyone let themselves in.

“Oh my goodness, honey.”

You hear the distant voice of Penelope Garcia as she rushed into the bathroom, kneeling to rub your back as you retched again.

“Did you eat something bad?”

“I haven’t eaten anything for 48 hours. I’m amazed there’s anything left in me to throw up,” you groaned.

“How about I make you some of my infamous Garcia chicken noodle soup?”

You nodded, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent and let her assist you back to the bedroom.

“You look horrible,” Garcia winced, “Sounds like you’ve caught a nasty bug.”

You pulled the sheets up over you as you laid back down.

“Tell me about it. All I want to do is sleep but I can’t for throwing up. Plus I guess I’m starting my period cause my boobs hurt like hell.”

“Oh that’s the wor-” she paused mid sentence and you look up at her, waiting for her to continue.

“I’ll be back in a little bit okay? You just rest and I’ll get that soup started.”

She dashed out of the room and you peered after her, too exhausted to question what was wrong. Soon after, you drifted off.

-

“JJ, Y/N’s throwing up, exhausted and her boobs hurt doesn’t that sound just like…?”

Penelope was pacing the length of the kitchen, which wasn’t very big to begin with, as she talked to JJ on her phone.

“Yeah, it does,” JJ agreed.

“Should I ask her or?”

“Give me an hour to grab Emily and we’ll be there.”

•

“Y/N?”

In your dream, you woke to Spencer shaking you gently, smiling sweetly down at you. Your heart swelled with love for him, just looking up at him. You reached out to touch him, when he called your name again. Only it wasn’t coming from him this time.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

You felt a gentle shake of your shoulder and your eyes opened to see JJ, Emily and Penelope surrounding you. You sat up, rubbing your eyes, confused.

“What’s going on?”

“Garcia called and told us you’ve been pretty sick lately,” Emily said, “I remember you said you were sick the last time I visited. How long have you been throwing up?”

You shrugged, “It’s been off and on for a few weeks. Why?”

The three exchanged a look before turning back to you.

“When was your last period?” JJ questioned.

“Oh, uh,” you stopped to think, realizing you’d been so consumed with grief you hadn’t even registered the absence of your monthly cycle.

“About two months before the hitmen case.” Your eyes widened at the realization.

That was over 3 months ago now. Then, you’d just assumed it was stress making you skip your periods.

“Could you be pregnant?” Garcia gasped, trying hard to suppress her grin.

“I...I don’t know,” you answered truthfully.

You couldn’t remember the last time you and Spencer had been intimate. The last few months of his life had been so busy, filled with cases that usually it was just a matter of being together when you had a spare moment.

“Don’t worry. That’s why we brought these.”

JJ held up a bag with three different pregnancy tests.

“One for each of us to check,” Emily added.

“Now why don’t you go take these and go take a shower. We can check them after you get out,” Garcia said.

You nodded, obeying their orders. 

After a quick shower, you stood in fresh clothes, your hair still dripping wet. The three women stood looking at the pregnancy tests you’d taken and left out.

“Well?” you asked, biting your thumbnail.

“Positive,” JJ answered.

Emily looked up from hers, “Positive.”

“Positive!” Garcia squeaked, bouncing on her feet.

You felt your mouth drop in utter surprise and wonder, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

“I’m...pregnant?” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes, a small smile on your face.

“You’re pregnant!” Garcia squealed, rushing over to hug you, the other two joining in on the group hug.

For once, your tears were tears of joy. There was a part of Spencer that would always live on through this baby.

You had a reason to live again; a tiny, growing reason, but a reason nonetheless.

•

The following weeks were less than desirable in your opinion.

After being forced to visit the hospital by your friends and having an examination by Derek’s fiancé Savannah, you discovered that you were severely dehydrated from your weeks of grieving.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing you’d deprived your little one of the food and nutrients it needed to grow. Savannah—who happened to be close to delivering her and Morgan’s first child—had assured you that after some fluids from a couple of IVs you would be fine. All you had to do from here was to continue to eat properly and take your prenatals and the little one would be just fine.

“This is what you get to look forward to,” she’d  chuckled, rubbing a hand over her round 35 week pregnant belly.

You had found out that you were 12 weeks along, just a week shy of your second trimester. Unfortunately, you had still experienced morning sickness all day long and still only looked bloated, not pregnant.

But time passed quickly.

Four months turned into six. Six turned into eight. There were many changes that happened around you besides the growing human inside of you.

The search for Cat continued, the team working their asses off to find her, but with no luck nor leads.

Changes to the team happened too.

Derek Morgan retired from the FBI, wanting to be with his now wife, Savannah and his little boy Hank. You’d sent him off tearfully. He was one of Spencer’s best friends, one that you had become close with too over the years, but you knew he was going to be the best dad.

A new member joined in his place, Luke Alvez. He had been familiar with Spencer as well and the team welcomed him into the family, as did you. 

Then Hotch decided his time with the FBI was coming to an end. After a particularly grueling case, he put in his resignation paperwork. He was happy to be a more involved father to his almost teenaged aged son, Jack. You wished him all the best, knowing he was going to have the time of his life with more time for Jack, even though it was hard to see him go.

Emily stepped up as the new unit chief and brought in agent Matt Simmons, another agent you were familiar with. A tall, handsome, hardworking sweetheart, you were glad to welcome him to the team as well.

The changes within you were just as extreme as the ones around you.

Your belly grew bigger, your little one stronger. You felt kicks and movement daily now, each move warming your heart, although you couldn’t help but wish quite often that Spencer was around to witness this. He would be so in love with this baby, you were sure of it.

You struggled with the decision to find out the sex of the baby. With a vote between you and your friends, it was a unanimous vote for yes.

Mere weeks after the discovery of your pregnancy you found out you were carrying a precious baby girl. You were completely overjoyed, as was the entire team. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for the team of people that would be loving extended members of the family and of course, babysitters. Occasionally though, the melancholy feeling would creep back into your subconscious.

Spencer would’ve been over the moon knowing he was going to have a little girl. He would’ve spoiled her so much and she would have him wrapped around her little finger. You missed him daily, even though a part of him grew in your belly. You couldn’t help but be sad for your little girl who would never have the chance to meet her amazing father.

It was then after many weeks of contemplating a name, that the perfect one came to you. You decided to keep it a secret until she was born, much to the team’s dismay, but you wanted it to be a surprise. In your heart though, you knew it was the perfect name for her. 

-

Your ninth month of pregnancy had finally arrived as did the other symptoms of your final trimester. You were tired, achy and felt like you’d swallowed a watermelon. You were so ready to get this baby out.

As if overnight, Spencer’s apartment had been filled with baby things in preparation for her arrival. Her crib was in the spare bedroom, although she wasn’t going to leave your side for the first few months, hence the bassinet next to the bed in the bedroom.

Bottles were lined up in the kitchen, boxes of diapers sitting in the living room. You couldn’t believe it was almost time to meet her; secretly you hoped that she took after her daddy, both in looks and personality.

“How are we feeling today, mama?” JJ asked when you met her and Garcia for your weekly lunch.

“Like a huge, swollen basketball,” you laughed.

“Hey princess, auntie Penelope can’t wait to meet you,” Garcia rubbed your belly, making you grin.

“Maybe you need to give her more pep talks because I’m so ready for her to get out,” you groaned, “And to see my feet again.”

“Henry and Michael are so excited for her to be born,” JJ chuckled, “I’m going to have to tell them to be gentle with her though, they’re not used to little girls.”

You grinned. You loved JJ’s two boys. Spencer had been their godfather, so you’d kind of become an auntie to them. She often brought them to visit you when you were still grieving Spencer’s death and they were the only ones who could bring a smile to your face during your darkest period.

After you’d found out you were pregnant and started rebuilding your life again, you often volunteered to babysit them. Other than your little girl, they were the ones who motivated you to begin healing and getting stronger. 

They got more excited the bigger your belly grew. Henry, the oldest would often try to explain to his younger brother Michael that babies came from mommy’s tummies. He also told him that there came a point when mommy and daddy loved them so much that there was no room left for the baby in the mommy’s belly. So, the baby had to come out in order to get the rest of that love. It warmed your heart knowing that one day, your child would be this big and this smart.

You were so thankful for them and for the entire team in general for pulling you out of the hole of despair you’d been in for you might not be sitting here right now.

When you’d ordered, the three of you sat and chatted about their current cases and baby stuff until you felt a slight trickle down your leg. With a glance under the table, you realized your pants were soaked. For a moment, you thought you’d peed yourself.

You groaned, expressing your concern. Even though that was just a symptom of pregnancy, it wasn’t any less embarrassing.

But the flow of the trickle became heavier. When JJ came around the table to assess the situation, her eyes widened, taking in your now soaked seat.

“I think your water just broke.”

A flurry of activity followed.

-

18 hours of labor and nearly 2 hours of pushing later, you were holding your daughter, staring at her in amazement.

Her tiny fist was holding onto your finger and you smiled down at her, tears blurring your vision. It was early yet, but you thought she looked just like Spencer.

She had a head of brown hair, his eye shape and his mouth, but your nose; although it looked much cuter on her.

“She’s so cute,” Garcia cooed at her, stroking her cheek.

“Spence would be so happy, Y/N,” JJ said.

You smiled up at them. They’d been the ones you’d requested to be in the delivery room and they’d been amazing helping you through the rough labor.

“Can I hold her?” 

“Of course,” you smiled, handing her to Penelope.

“Me next,” JJ smiled, holding her little hand.

“So are you gonna tell us her name now or what?” Garcia urged.

“Yes,” you smiled, “I thought it would be appropriate for her to always have a part of her daddy with her. So I decided to name her Spensa. Spensa Rose Reid.”

“That’s beautiful,” JJ breathed, looking down at her, “Hello, Spensa. You look just like your daddy.”

•

Adjusting to being a single mother was difficult, but so rewarding. It helped a ton that you had so many willing helping hands, as well.

Spensa was such a laid back baby and loved to be sociable, even at five months old. She truly was the light of your life.

You loved watching her grow and learn new things, from rolling over to waving and clapping her hands. She babbled a lot as well nowadays.

Her dark head of hair had lightened to a lighter shade of brown and was just starting to curl at the ends. Her blue eyes surprisingly hadn’t turned dark yet and she still looked so much like Spencer.

She had the little dimples in the side of her cheeks that only showed up when she made specific expressions and she liked to scrunch her nose occasionally, just like daddy. It was almost hard to tell that she was yours, but you didn’t mind one bit.

She was the sweetest baby and you fell in love with her more every day.

As to be expected, the entire team fell head over heels for her and often took turns visiting when they had time. Sometimes, you even took her to the BAU to visit all her aunts and uncles.

You often talked to her about Spencer, even though you knew she was too young to understand. It was amazing how the knowledge of her had eased so much of the grief you had felt those first few months. You still longed for him, missed him so much, but in a way he was alive and with you within Spensa.

It was nearing her bedtime one night and you were rocking her in the chair next to the crib.

“Do you want to hear another bedtime story about daddy?”

She baby talked in response, playing with her toy giraffe.

“Well, your daddy was the bravest man I know. He was so passionate about his work and he was good at it too. He was sweet as you are, ladybug.”

You tickled her stomach, smiling at her giggles.

She laid back in your arms, still playing with the toy in her arms, her gaze on you.

“He cared so much about the people he loved. He would have loved you too munchkin. He loved kids so much and he wanted his own some day. I wish he could be here to see you.”

The tears choked you and you wiped a hand over your face as they fell. Spensa started fussing as if she could sense your sadness.

“It’s okay baby,” you repositioned her on your lap, reaching for the frame of you and Spencer on her dresser.

“You wanna say goodnight to daddy?”

Spensa babbled to the picture, putting her hand on it. 

It might have seemed silly to do such a thing every night, but you never wanted her to not know who Spencer was.

You kissed the top of her head.

“I love you, Spensa.”

•

In Moscow, it was a pretty standard day for Spencer. 

He had managed to set a pretty strict schedule in his time here. It had been nearly a year and he had gotten used to life in Moscow. He still worried daily about his girlfriend though, worrying for your safety.

It was Thursday evening, the usual time he went to the market, yet when he returned to his place, something felt off.

On the entrance table, there was a lone red rose and a note. His eyes scanned over the note.

Roses are red

Violets are blue 

I have a surprise

And a secret too

Love,

Cat

He automatically reached for his gun that he carried at all times, just underneath his pant leg, in an ankle holster.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came the taunting, familiar voice from behind him.

He turned around to face the living room and saw Cat sitting in one of the arm chairs, her gun on the arm.

“Spencie,” she grinned, “Miss me?”

•

It was just after nine. Spensa had just been put down again after her 8 o’clock feeding and you were attempting to rinse some dishes off before you headed to bed.

The tv played in the living room and you turned, confused when you no longer heard any sound coming from it. You shrugged it off, chalking it up to a possible power outage.

You returned to the dirty dishes, the clinking plates masking the noise of the sliding porch door clicking shut. A creak from behind you made you freeze in place. You glanced up, a figure approaching behind you clear in the reflection of the window. 

Before you even had the chance to cry out, something hard struck the back of your head and everything went black.

•

You groaned, your head pounding. You reached up to rub the sore spot, wincing as you try to sit up. It was bright behind your eyes and you fought to slowly open them, blinking a few times until your surroundings come in to focus.

That’s when you saw them.

Across the room stood your dead boyfriend, lips locked with none other than Cat Adams.

Tag List: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @whatspunispun​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @theitcaramelchick​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @multifandommandy​

[justheretobreakthings]

Remember Me - Chapter 21

(First Chapter) (Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 4,366 (Total Word Count: 84,026) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

It was strange enough for the paladins of Voltron to have found another human this far from home, locked in a Galra prison. But it was stranger still when this human insisted that he knew them, and even that he was the former red paladin of Voltron.

That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? After all, if this Keith was actually a part of the Voltron team, then why does nobody remember him?

It was difficult to get a proper read on Keith over the next couple of days. Not to say that it wasn’t always difficult to get a read on Keith - how many of their problems could be solved if the guy just came with goddamn operator’s manual, Lance couldn’t even fathom - but more specifically, it was hard to tell how Keith was feeling toward Lance.

He wasn’t openly glaring at Lance any more, the way he had been during their last coalition meeting, but he wasn’t really looking Lance’s way at all, either. Not greeting him when he entered the room, not speaking with him, not smiling when Lance cracked a joke during a meal. Nothing.

And for the life of him, Lance couldn’t remember if this was a change or was a return to the norm. Was Keith giving him the cold shoulder, or was he just being the same grumpy, closed-off person he always was, and Lance was just now feeling more aware of it?

Part of him wanted to broach the subject, to walk straight up to Keith while he was on the training deck or in his room and ask whether the whole deal had blown over, or whether Keith was still mad.

The other part of him was sure that Keith was still mad, and that bringing it up would only fan the flames.

Still, whether the tension between them was real or just in his imagination, it was still leaving Lance feeling awkward whenever he was around Keith, unsure of his own footing. Which was not a feeling he relished. Fortunately, even now Keith wasn’t much more social than he had been when they’d first brought him into the castle, so the awkwardness only really had to be endured during meals and training. So far, at least.

He let the subject stew for his mind for a while before finally bringing it up with anyone, and he chose to spring it on Pidge and Hunk. The three of them had been hanging out in Hunk’s room, chattering about nothing important with toolkits open as they worked on a project. That is, Pidge and Hunk were working. Lance was dangling off of Hunk’s bed, feet against the wall and head on the floor, watching the proceedings upside-down; a while back they had instituted a policy that Lance was only allowed to assist with engineering projects up until the point that he broke something, after which he was relegated to watching from a time-out spot for the rest of the project. Today, it had taken him only four minutes.

They were doing… something, with one of the cleaning bots. Pidge had told him when they’d first started what they were changing, but it had seemed very complex and had mostly gone over Lance’s head. In any case, judging by the fact that some of the ‘upgrade parts’ Pidge had brought along looked suspiciously similar to pieces of the Altean blaster rifles he’d once helped Coran clean, he was pretty certain that the cleaning bot was going to be much more dangerous once they were done with it than it was when they had started.

The conversation had drifted toward reminiscence about their Garrison days, and somehow landed on talking about past school projects, so Lance had quickly been growing bored of that topic - he had suffered enough while doing school projects; it was just cruel to make him talk about them so long after the fact. It was high time for a subject change.

“Have you guys noticed anything weird about Keith?” he asked as he sat back up onto Hunk’s bed. He closed his eyes for a few seconds as the blood rushed out of his head now that he was right-side-up again.

Pidge glanced at Hunk before shrugging. “Well, yes, Lance, but that’s kind of old news by now, isn’t it?

Lance shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean - I meant, like, just over the past couple of days. Like, since that dinner on Thotirn?”

“Uh, he was hungover the day after,” Hunk said. “Does that count as weird?”

“What? No,” Lance huffed. “What about, like, his behavior in training and meals and - and with the way he’s acting?”

“Here’s an idea,” Pidge said. “How about instead of being weird and cryptic, you just tell us what you think he’s doing that’s so weird, and we’ll agree or disagree.”

Lance huffed out a frustrated sigh. “I’m talking about – about how he’s, like, avoiding me and not talking to me and – and seeming like he’s, um, in sort of a rotten mood…”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just how Keith is all the time,” Hunk said. He picked up a screwdriver and turned his attention back to the cleaning bot.

“No, that’s not – ugh!” Lance flopped dramatically backward onto Hunk’s bed, his foot narrowly avoiding kicking Pidge’s head as it swung out. “I’m trying to figure out if Keith’s mad at me! Have either of you noticed anything different about him the past couple days? Has he said anything about me to you guys? Or, maybe one of you’s seen him glaring at me when I’m not looking? Something like that?”

There was a pause before Pidge sighed. “Lance, what did you do?”

“Nothing!” Lance insisted as he straightened up again.

“Why would Keith be mad at you for nothing?” Hunk asked.

“Well, I mean, not nothing nothing, just – see, back during that dinner party on Thotirn, Keith had nearly drunk his weight in alcohol, right? So I take him back to the castle and get him to bed so he doesn’t cause a scene or drown in his own puke or anything. And when we get back to his room, he starts having this, like, emotional breakdown. Just getting really riled up and crying, and I needed him to calm down, you know? To just settle down and go to sleep.”

“So you… knocked him out?” Hunk said as Lance paused for breath.

“What? No! I just told this little white lie to calm him down before he went to sleep. Thing is, by the time he’s sobered up next morning, he of course realizes that it’s a lie, and he’s real pissed about it. He chewed me out after training the other day and he hasn’t said a word to me since. So I’m just trying to figure out if this has all blown over, or if he’s still mad at me. Keith kinda seems like he’d be the grudge-holding type, you know?”

Pidge let out a thoughtful hum as she crossed her arms. “What lie did you tell?”

“I kind of, um - ” Lance scratched at the back of his head. “I kind of maybe sorta told him that when he woke up his team would be back?”

The other two stared at him for a long moment before Hunk softly said, “Dude.”

Lance held up his hands. “Okay, look, before you guys get all judgey - ”

“Too late,” said Pidge.

“ - I honestly didn’t think he would remember what I said. You two both saw how hungover he was yesterday morning; that should give you a bit of an idea of how wasted he was the night before. It’s a fucking miracle he remembered. And also, you know what, it was very obviously done to calm him down and make him feel better, right? Like, once he sobered up and all, he should’ve realized that.”

“Maybe,” Hunk said. “But that’s still, like, a really sore point for Keith. Not really the sort of thing you should be poking at.”

“Yeah, fine, in retrospect, yeah, I probably should have come up with something else, but it was a high-pressure situation and late at night and I don’t think we can dismiss the fact that I’d had a couple of drinks too and - and it’s way easier to sit here and figure out other options after the fact. Hindsight is twenty-four/seven, and all that.”

Pidge raised a brow. “It’s ‘hindsight is twenty-twenty’.”

“There aren’t twenty days in a week, Pidge, that makes no sense.”

“... Remind me how you passed the Garrison entrance exams, again?”

“Not important, Pidge,” Lance said with a scowl. “Look, I made a mistake, all right? I know it. And I apologized! I told him I was sorry, but he was being a stubborn ass as usual and decided that him feeling disappointed for a few minutes in the morning was the worst tragedy in the world, and of course he shouldn’t have been drinking that much in the first place – ”

“Is this how you worded your apology when you gave it to him?” Pidge asked. “Because if so, I have a theory about why he might be mad at you.”

“No, no, I’m just – ” He sighed again. “I’m just frustrated. Everything’s all tense now – as if things weren’t stressful enough already – and I just wanna, like, put the whole stupid incident behind us, you know? I’m making an effort here.”

“Have you tried talking to Shiro about it?” Hunk asked.

Lance turned to him, head tilted in question. “Hm? What’s Shiro got to do with this?”

“Nothing directly,” Hunk answered. “But he’s the leader of Voltron, right? If there’s a problem between team members, he can mediate. He’s done it plenty of times before.”

“I guess…” Lance said slowly.

Pidge nodded. “Right, ask Shiro. Seems kinda the obvious solution now I think about it.” She furrowed her brow as Lance said nothing in reply. “Lance? Don’t tell me there’s something up between you and Shiro too.”

Lance shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s… if Shiro’s gonna be doing conflict resolution or whatever, shouldn’t he be, like, unbiased? As a rule?”

“What about it?” Hunk asked.

Lance folded his arms. “What, you don’t think Shiro’s just gonna agree with whatever Keith says?”

There was a beat of silence as Pidge and Hunk cast confused glances at each other. “Since when does Shiro do that?” Pidge asked.

“Pretty much since Keith showed up, right?” Lance said with a shrug. “He was siding with Keith against Allura from day one, he’s been letting Keith get away with stunts in our battles that he would never let the rest of us do without getting a ten-hour lecture afterward, he basically believes anything Keith says and lets him do whatever he wants – ”

“Lance, that’s not true,” Hunk said. “Keith follows the same rules the rest of us do.”

“All right, yeah, maybe so, but he’s the only one with Shiro’s arm around his shoulder the whole time he does it. Come on, I can’t be the only person here who’s noticed it, can I? Go ahead, have either of you spent half as much time training with Shiro as Keith has? Or has Shiro talked to you nearly as much as he talks to Keith? You can’t honestly tell me you don’t see it!”

“Well, it’s – that’s not – ” Hunk started, but to Lance’s satisfaction, he was clearly wavering.

“You see it, right? It’s blatant – ”

“Lance,” Pidge said.

Lance ignored her. “Blatant favoritism, is what it is. It’s like he’s – like he’s more concerned about Keith. Like he needs Keith more.” His arms tightened over his chest. “What’s he need Keith for so badly, huh? He’s already got his team. He’s got me.”

A longer beat of silence rang in the room this time before anyone moved or made a sound, and it was only broken when Pidge unfolded her legs and stood, joining Lance on the bed. The mattress sank slightly as she took a seat, bringing her sock feet and letting out a long breath. “Back when the Kerberos mission crew was first selected,” she said, “Back when Matt and Dad first started training for it, I was kinda pissed.”

Lance blinked at her. He turned to Hunk, looking for an explanation, but Hunk appeared just as bemused as him. “Um… okay?” he said, turning back to Pidge.

“I guess there had been sort of a closeness there between Matt and Dad for a while already, on account of Dad working at the Garrison and Matt being a cadet there, then a junior officer right under Dad’s command. But once they were selected for Kerberos, they started having more and more time together. They were training and studying and running mission simulations and going to meetings. We could barely find the chance to do so much as have a meal together as a whole family. It was kinda like the family had been split in half, you know? The half that was going to Kerberos, and the half that was staying behind. And it kinda sucked. Matt was there at Dad’s side all the time, and I was starting to feel like an afterthought.”

She sighed and brought her knees up to rest her chin on them. “Came to a head this one night. See, back at home, first Saturday of the month was always Family Game Night. We’d set aside the whole evening for whatever game we could all play together for hours on end, and we’d been doing this since I was too young to even understand how board games worked. So this one night, Dad calls us up at like four o’clock to tell us that some important presentation got moved up at the very last minute and he and Matt wouldn’t be able to make it to game night, and I sorta lost it. Yelled at him over phone for a couple minutes straight, didn’t answer it when Matt tried to call me after.

“So, naturally, when they get home from their big important presentation thing, Dad sits us all down to have a ‘family discussion’.” She made air quotes around the words with her fingers. “And basically we just… talked it out, I guess. Like, got it all into the open. And on some level, you know, I’m feeling like a bratty little kid because, yeah, I know that he needs to be doing all this stuff for Kerberos, and I know that he’s not intentionally prioritizing Matt over me, it was – it was the circumstances. Still didn’t mean I felt good about it, though.

“So I tell him that, and in the end, I guess it did sort of need to be said. I don’t think Dad was really realizing how much the Kerberos prep was taking over his schedule and his life, and I mean, it was going to be a long mission away from us, Mom and I needed some time with him and Matt while we still could. I suppose in all that goes into working toward a space mission, some stuff winds up pushed aside even if it shouldn’t be. Not his fault. He’s only human, you know? And he was focusing on things he needed to focus on. Sometimes people need a reminder that there’s other stuff going on around them. Once he had that, we worked things out. Got actual bonding time scheduled with me, finally, so it did the trick.”

She lifted her chin and stretched out her legs. “We all know how badly what happened with Shiro affected him. I mean, we’ve all been around for flashbacks and stuff, right? So getting someone on the ship who’s apparently been dealing with something so similar, and getting to talk about the stuff and help someone out with all that shit is probably good for him. Shiro needs that. And Keith? Well, we’ve all seen that he’s all kinds of fucked up, so having someone like Shiro around to try and help sort out the fucked-up-ness? Yeah, I’m betting he needs that.

“That’s all it is, I think. They’re just focused on what they need right now, and other things are gonna end up falling by the wayside. That’s just what happens, you know? There’s only so much a person can focus on at once. And if it gets to be a problem, that’s when you sit down, have a family discussion, and get that shit out into the open. Tell me, Lance: have you mentioned this to Shiro?”

“I - ” Lance gritted his teeth as he hesitated.

“Well, there you go,” said Pidge. “If there’s a problem between you and Shiro, you’re not gonna get anything solved by complaining to us about it. Go to Shiro. Use your words.”

“I shouldn’t have to talk to Shiro about it, you know?” Lance said. “He’s the team leader, the Black Paladin. He’s – he’s supposed to know what’s going on, and know what to do, and – ”

“And walk on water and cure the blind and ride his magical unicorn over a rainbow and into the sunset?” Pidge finished, a smirk hovering at the edge of her mouth.

Lance grimaced. “I didn’t say all that.”

“Lance, I’ll have you know that this is the same Shiro who once narrowly avoided getting expelled as a cadet because Matt dared him to go streaking on a campus tour day. He’s a great guy, and a great leader, but it’s always dangerous to put someone on a pedestal. Talk to Shiro.”

“…Okay,” Lance sighed. “Okay, I’ll have a talk with Shiro. But I’m still not thrilled about the idea of having a big conflict mediation with Keith.”

“If you don’t wanna have a counseling session, maybe some sort of grand gesture would do the trick for Keith,” Hunk suggested as Pidge slid back onto the floor. “I’ve had success in the past with baking apology cakes, writing ‘I’m sorry’ in icing on the top. It’s hard to be mad at someone who gives you cake.”

“Hey, there’s an idea,” Lance said, face brightening. “Could you make a cake for me to give to Keith?”

“It’s your apology, man. You’ve gotta bake the cake.”

“Mmm, I dunno if I wanna bake…”

“Then maybe get him a greeting card,” Pidge said. “Hallmark sells ‘I’m Sorry I Messed With Your Sense Of Reality’ cards, right?”

“Very funny,” Lance grunted.

“A balloon bouquet?” Hunk said. “Flowers? What flowers are good for apologies?”

“This isn’t helping at all,” Lance groaned. “What the hell would Keith even want with flowers or balloons?”

“Well, what does Keith want?” Hunk asked.

Lance furrowed his brow as he thought it over, and the right answer came to him soon after. He let out another long groan and dropped his face into his hands.

Keith had better fucking forgive him after this.

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

Lance left Hunk’s room once Pidge had declared their project finished, and before she and Hunk had a chance to test out the cleaning bot’s new upgrades. He still wasn’t entirely sure what those upgrades were or how they were going to test them, but if by tomorrow the Castle was still in one piece, that would likely be the sign that the project was a success.

He went to the living quarters, coming first to Keith’s door and knocking. He didn’t identify himself – Keith was less likely to ignore the knocking if he didn’t know who was on the other side of the door – but he still got no response from inside. He pressed his ear to the door just to be certain, and when he heard nothing, decided to move on to Shiro’s room instead.

His fist was raised and poised to knock when a voice sounded from behind him. “Oughtn’t disturb him right now, Lance.”

He jumped an inch in the air and whipped around to see Allura strolling around the corner, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “My apologies,” she said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” Lance said.

“Oh?” Allura quirked her brow. “You jumped.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I was startled. I’m just… battle-ready.” He stretched his arms and leaned languidly up against the doorframe. “Sharpshooter reflexes, you know? Gotta always be on my toes.”

“Ah. I should have guessed. In any case, if you plan on visiting with Shiro, you ought to save it for later. He only just went down for a nap a few vargas ago. I believe he had one of his restless sleep cycles this past night, needs to catch up a bit.”

“Oh. He was with you?”

Allura nodded. “And Coran. We’ve been sorting and studying coalition reports and correspondence for the better part of today. I certainly don’t blame him for being tired, it can be frighteningly dull work.”

“I see.” He knew what she meant. Coran had roped Lance into helping out with coalition correspondence before, and even without the additional tediousness of him having to run every line through translator programs, the supply and logistics reports were so boring to take notes on that it made even his dullest math classes back at the Garrison feel like a non-stop party in comparison.

“Did you need him for anything urgent?” Allura asked.

“Nah,” Lance said, shaking his head. “Mostly just looking to chat. I’ll save it for tomorrow.”

“If you have time to,” Allura said. “I’ll let the rest of the team know at dinner and we’ll brief you all this evening, but tomorrow we’ll be assisting the Blade a bit. There’s a supply depot on one of Mapukil’s satellites that they believe may be involved in one of the transfer routes they’ve been trying to track for that odd strain of quintessence the Blade’s had its eye on, but they’re having difficulty travelling into that sector undetected. We’re going to try to wormhole through and investigate the depot on their behalf.”

“Sounds like fun,” Lance said. “We planning on attacking or – ?”

“Not if we can avoid it.”

“Less fun. Don’t worry, though, I’ll be good. We’ll be in and out in no time. By the by, you seen Keith anywhere? Wanted to chat with him too.”

“I passed him returning to his room from the training deck a little while ago.”

“Already checked, he’s not there.”

“Most likely in the kitchen, then. You paladins do tend to get peckish after exercising, don’t you?”

“True,” said Lance. “I’ll check there. See you ‘round.”

Allura waved him off as he turned and set off toward the kitchen. Sure enough, he walked through the entrance to find Keith sitting on the counter, feet dangling, a bowl in his hands filled with some berry-like fruit that only Coran could pronounce and popping them into his mouth.

Keith looked up as Lance entered, then immediately dropped his gaze back to his fruit, and Lance wasn’t sure if he was imagining the scowl that had just appeared on his face, or if it was just due to the angle. He sighed internally. Well, best get this over with. “Hey, Keith,” he said.

Keith’s only reply was a wordless grunt, and Lance tried his best not to be offended by that. Instead, he strolled across the kitchen and hoisted himself up onto the counter as well. Not right next to him – Lance was pretty sure anyone besides Shiro trying to sit that close to him uninvited would wind up with a black eye – but on the opposite side of the sink. Keith seemed to stiffen, but he didn’t make to leave or tell Lance to go away. He counted that as a win.

“So, uh…” Lance began cautiously. “Whatcha eating?”

Keith tilted the bowl toward Lance so he could see the fruits better, then popped another into his mouth, chewing audibly.

“Cool, cool. Do you, uh, do you mind if I have one? Haven’t eaten anything since – ”

“What do you want, Lance?” Keith asked, his tone flat and eyes still on the bowl.

Lance quickly turned a frustrated huff into a little cough. He was here to make nice with Keith, not get into another spat with him. “Well, I actually, uh, needed to talk to you about – about something.” He paused, and when Keith didn’t ask him to elaborate, he went ahead. “See, I guess some of the Lions have been feeling a little, um, lonesome as of late, on account of us all being busy with our missions and training and meetings and all that. And I’ve been doing better about that with Red lately, trying to visit her more often, but I think she’s kinda bored, you know? Like, needs a bit of variety?”

“Okay…” Keith said slowly. “So what’s that got to do with me?”

“I was thinking about, like, how you had asked about, um, visiting with Red sometime? And I know I had been kind of, uh, not sure about whether Red would be cool with that, but, um… I dunno. I think, you know, long as I stick around and oversee the visits, she might be okay with having someone else pop in a few times and chat with her. She’s more of an extrovert than she pretends to be, I think. So, there you go, if you wanna visit Red…”

Finally Keith had lifted his gaze to Lance’s face, and Lance couldn’t read his expression. Keith blinked at him for a moment before saying, “Are you serious?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?” Lance started swinging, bumping his heels against the counter, keeping his posture as casual as possible. “So, you wanna do that or not? We could hang out in the hangar after dinner or tomorrow morning or something, your pick. I mean, if you want to.”

“…Yeah,” Keith said. “Yeah, I’d, uh – I’d like that.”

“Okay. Okay, cool. So, um.” He cleared his throat and slid off of the counter. “So, whenever you’re up for it, just find me and we’ll head down. Whenever.”

“Yeah,” Keith said again with a nod. “Um… thanks.”

Lance nodded back. “Right, no pr– uh, you’re welcome.”

He rocked uncertainly on his heels for another few seconds before the awkward silence got to be just too much, and he made his hasty goodbyes and headed out of the kitchen, leaving Keith to his fruit. He let out a relieved breath once he was back in the hall. He did it. Apology made, apology accepted.

Perhaps things were looking up.

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker-Skip (2)

Plot: Peter’s new life couldn’t be better. College, aparment for himself, you. Still, Parker’s luck is not on his side, and the memories are coming back.

Warnings: it gets dark. Really dark, for Peter. Mentions of child abuse and rape. Angst, so much angst.

It’s our secret. No one can understand us, Einstein. We’re unique. We can’t tell anyone.

Peter hated secrets. How they weighed on him, how they made him sick and isolated, but he had held onto to that as if his life depended on it. He had kept the secret for years, and it had pained him to the core.

He remembered the day Skip moved away. Probably, he’d moved to the house Peter had found on the web. It had been the best day of his life. No more babysitting, no more secrets, no more of… that. Peter hadn’t know how to call it when he was kid; and now that he knew, he didn’t want to say it. Skip was gone, but the nightmares arrived, and the nights of getting bad stomach aches and puking his guts out.

May had taken him to doctors, and when they ruled everything out, he was transferred to the psychiatrist, saying their best guess was anxiety. There was a night- he remembered it vividly. He was ready to talk with May, to tell her why the psychiatrist couldn’t help him. He was almost at her door when he heard his aunt crying, and talking to Ben about the expensive bills of the psychiatrist. Peter remembered going back to his room, and burying the secret in the deepest part of his mind. Because they wouldn’t understand.

For five weeks and two days, Peter thought about the secret.

For five weeks and two days, Peter sneaked out and stood in front of Skip’s house for hours, watching as the bastard slept peacefully.

For five weeks and two days, Peter Parker cried hidden in the bathroom, torn between letting you inside his darkest part, or letting you get hurt.

On the third day, Peter could do it no more.

-

The lack of sleep was making his day much more difficult than what it should be. After going to class, he had taken a nap for almost two hours, while you worked on your new assignment. And then, he hadn’t managed to get out of the couch until the sun was down and the first streets lights were on.

Your soft humming was putting him slowly back to sleep, and he was tempted to give him. There was a warmth in the living room that braced him like a mother’s arms, and his mind was so groggy that he could almost forget the cause of the constant panic attack from the previous month.

“Pete?”

Vaguely, Peter heard the humming stop and your voice calling him. He was focusing on a corner of the TV, where dust was gathering. He was so tired that he couldn’t bring himself to look away, so he ignored it.

Two more times his name was heard, and two more times he ignored. Until a rubber hit him in his cheek. Peter blinked surprised as he watched it fall to the wooden floor that he loved to touch with his fluffy socks. With a tired sigh and rubbing his hand over the sore spot, he gave you his attention.

“What’s with the zombie act?” you asked from your chair.

You had your legs tucked up in the chair, your head resting on top and face smashed with your hands. The high bun you had been wearing as you studied was almost undone, wild strands framing your face. You were wearing your pyjamas, and just the sight of you made Peter almost drool. And remember why he was so sleepy and tired all the time.

“Uh, nothing” he said. “New place, new classmates. It’s all stressing me out a lot”

“Nothing to do with patrols?”

The yawn that was making Peter close his eyes stopped midway, and his heart stopped for a few seconds. He looked at you with wide eyes and flinched under your knowing eyes. If there was a reason why he was dating you, it was your witness. Bold of him to assume you wouldn’t notice.

He shifted on his place awkwardly and diverted his eyes to the pot on the desk. He should have expected the conversation, and had thought about it a couple of times. Still, when the moment came, his palms became sweaty and he knew he was going to stutter.

“Pete, I thought we were past the secrets” you sighed, not angry. Just disappointed. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore.”

“I know”

“You know I support you. I’ll always do, with Spiderman, college and whatever you want to do”

“I know, Y/N” he tightened his jaw, the pressure on his shoulders making him want to cry.

“Then?” you asked. He didn’t expect your voice to be so small, or you to look so fragile. “I don’t-why are you lying to me? D-Don’t you trust me anymore? Is it something I’ve done? Because… if I’ve been to clingy, you can tell me. Or if you’ve changed your mind about living together, I’ll-“

“No!”

Peter would never forget himself for letting you talk for so long. It actually took a few seconds for the information to reach his brain. You feeling like he didn’t trust you. Hurt enough to think you had done something wrong. When truth was, he couldn’t believe how someone as amazing as you had ended up with a boy from Queens.

The floor cracked under Peter’s feet as he stumbled towards your chair, and fell to his knees in front of you. He wasted no time in cupping on of your cheeks with his hand and squeezing your tight with the other.

“No, I could-I could never get tired of you! I l-love you so much, and I don’t… I would trust you w-with my life, I promise. A-and you’ve done nothing wrong! It’s me…”

Peter got lost in a string of apologies and pleads for you to not leave him. He stuttered all the time, forgot to breath in between and almost chocked with his own tears. His hands started to shake and sweat and he felt the room growing hotter.

And suddenly, he couldn’t distinguish.

Peter Parker’s mind was a blur of images of Skip with a magazine in front of him, his pants pooling in the floor and big hand touching his small body. He felt the smell of fresh lemons printed on his nose, rather than the sweet candle you had lighted a few hours ago. Memories rushed in front of his eyes too fast, but the feelings and emotions stuck. The fear, the pain, the complete and utter disgust with himself.

Glass shattered under his feet, and his heart loud on his hears. He fell back on his back and covered his ears wish his hands, the loud scream he let camouflaging your own. Your hands tried to pry his away from his face, nails leaving red strips on his cheeks. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, his heart stopped pumping blood and the scenario changed.

It was no longer him under Skip, rather your body trapped above his much older one. Rough hand gripping your hips and thrusting in you, the clothes you had bought for the first day in college scattered in the floor. He could see the tears running down your cheeks, your hand reaching him and your mouth open with blood on your lips.

The last thing he remembered before passing out was you calling out for him, while he stood petrified, too busy keeping a secret to protect you.

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

Peter thought you would demand answers. That you would be mand when he woke up, wanting him to explain why he passed out in the living room between desperate screams of your name. Actually, he woke up in fear, ready for the biggest scolding of his life.

But in the queen-size bed you had chosen for your cute room in the new apartment, there were no angry faces. He was laying on his back, your hand caressing his hair as if it was the most precious thing in the world. His brown eyes met yours, and the doubts disappeared when you only gave him a tired smile. Not sure how, he was wearing his pyjamas and had no socks on, the blankets covering him under his chin. It was like that for a few seconds, both of you in silence and the dim lamp lighting your faces.

“What can I do?” you asked. He wished it was only that. He wished he could ask you to move to another country with him, and never come back. But he didn’t want to acknowledge you being close to that monster for so long.

“J-just lay with me” he muttered, cheeks burning. “Until I fall asleep, at least.”

Dinner was waiting for you in the kitchen, your homework was half-done and the light of the living room was still on. Your night was far from over, and Peter felt the most selfish person for asking you to stay with him. You weren’t his mother, his aunt or someone who had to take care of him. If so, it was the other way around, and he wasn’t doing a very good job at that.

You didn’t frowned at him, walked out or laughed at his face. Just nodded, slowly, and settled down next to him. The cushion bended under your weight, and Peter felt your warmth surrounding his body when your arms touched. He turned on his side and your face were inches apart.

“Try to sleep, bub” you pecked his lips quickly, and went back to play with his hair.

He closed his eyes, hoping the nightmares wouldn’t dare to come with your calming presence next to him. You were safe; he was spiderman, he had it covered. Skip was far away and could not touch you, could not breath near you. After a long hour where you didn’t move neither stopped moving your hand, he fell asleep.

After that day, Peter made sure to keep up with your protection. He learned Skip’s routines, and felt brave enough to even spy on him through the window of your class. He was smart enough to skip some of his lessons, and even if he had thrown up the first three times, he could contain the tears by the first week.

Skip turned out be pretty boring and predictable. He went to work at the university, straight home then expect from Fridays. On Fridays Skip stopped at the restaurant down the street to grab lunch. There was nothing incriminating, nothing that Peter could report to the police or explain a quick Spiderman visit. Besides, you were happy, talked excitedly about your new routine and Peter melted every time he was the smile on your face.

So there wasn’t any apparent reason to worry you. Peter Parker knew how to keep his cool until two months after the first encounter.

Like a tradition, he had gotten out of his last period a little early, saying something about his little sister and school. Walked to your meeting spot with earphones on and your playlist blasting. That time, he was wearing his jacked and under that the sweater, the cold making him tighten the clothes around his frame.

“Sorry May, I can’t really talk now” Peter said as he dodged students and teachers in the streets. “I’m picking Y/N up. It’s our anniversary, I want to- May! Yes, I’m using protection!”

An old lady turned around and shot him a dirty look when she heard the words, but Peter just looked down and blushed. He stuttered a little bit longer over the phone, trying to convince May for the thousand time that no, May, we’re not using my Peter’s tingle as a pull out method, we’re being safe. Usually, conversations with his aunt would cheer his day, yet he was already happy.

Reservation done, evening planned out and a golden necklace he had bought you with the little savings he had done. Taking small jobs here and there, fixing some classmates’ stuff, and of course a piece of the generous amount of money Mr Stark gave him every month since he discovered Peter having financial problems. He hadn’t been too fond of using that moment until he imagined your excited face over the gift.

“May, I need to go” Peter repeated for the third time, his aunt still listing how many illnesses you could get with an unsafe sex. “I’ll call you tonight, promise. Love you!”

Peter didn’t give time to his aunt to answer, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hang up otherwise. He was already late, and the day wasn’t on his favour; dark sky, cold wind and occasional raindrops that made him rethink his plan. Maybe you would be better in your apartment, or maybe it was worth the risk. Whatever you decided, Peter would be happy.  

He arrived to the parking lot as the last car left it, water staining Peter’s lower trousers. His jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything, just looked around for you. The parking was as empty as the stairs in the front, and he could not see anyone apart from a couple of boys making out in the back of the building.

You running late wasn’t new. Sometimes, Peter thought you had that in common with Tony; being “fashionably late”. The past few weeks you had been assigned with a project that took away most of your time. Something about a new project, you had said; Peter hadn’t been paying much attention to you since the last month discovery.

You always walked home on Fridays, since you decided to stay in the library for a little bit longer. But Peter had supposed you would leave a little early. Scoffing at the bookworm of a girlfriend he had, he ran up the stairs just when the rain got really heavy. The idea of going home seemed much more appealing.

As he walked through the halls, he thought about the arcade down your street. Maybe you could go there, he wanted to. He had heard from some classmates that it was really cool, and he was dying to try some of the machines. And he knew you could enjoy them too; even more if you could beat his ass and tease him for a week. You could buy lunch there and-

“…but you were good, you’re getting better.”

Peter stopped dead in his tracks and almost fell over when he heard the familiar voice just a few classes ahead him. His enhanced hearing could catch up the older male voice and the tone he had used with Peter so many years ago.

“You understand it, right? It’s like-a pay-back. You’re falling behind, wouldn’t want to be the reason of you losing the scholarship”

Bile rose up his throat when he understood what the sick fuck was implying, and he had to lean on the wall.

“I can give you a C, alright? Or do you want to try for anything higher?”

His knees hit the ground and the breath got knocked out of his lungs. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his ears to listen more; if Skip was saying those words to someone, that person could be in danger. And he was Spiderman; Peter Parker wouldn’t stop him from doing his job. Right?

“No? Alright, it’s okay. We’re done for today. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me”

Peter bottom lip trembled and he let out a loud sob. The secret, the dammed secret Skip forced him to keep and that ruined his life. His hands flew to his mouth in an attempt to cover up any sounds.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Einstein. Will miss you, such a good pet. So beautiful. So tight, and noise. I almost can’t believe you weren’t a virgin.”

At the nickname, Peter had only time to rush to the nearest bin and throw all the food he had in his stomach. He remembered Skip calling him that, praising him while he stood on top, thrusting into Peter as he cried.

The distant sound of Skip’s laugh made him go back to himself, and Peter saw red. He wanted nothing more than to run to the library, wrap you in bubble paper and tuck you away for the rest of the eternity. Because Skip doing that again meant you were in danger. Against his better judgment, he stumbled to the door where the noises came from and twisted the doorknob.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

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@elyonsstuff​

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[lovemesomesurveys]

*Following the trend and re-taking and responding to my very first survey on here from December 2014...SIX years ago!*

Are you attracted to the last person that kissed you? Sigh. Very much so. <<< Wow, that was when I was all in love Joseph. I’ve long since moved on. 

What did you do yesterday? I’ve been on break for the past week and I can honestly say I haven’t really done anything. It’s been kinda nice. <<< Back when I was in school and doing something with my life and had breaks to look forward to. Now I’ve been on break since 2015 and doing absolutely nothing. Anyway, yesterday I slept in past 3PM, had my coffee, checked social medias, played Animal Crossing, watched a few episodes of The Gilmore Girls, had dinner and chilled with my mom the rest of the night while watching another special on the ID channel (they’re doing a different one every night all this week).

Something you really want right now? Hmm. I don’t really want anything at this exact moment. <<< I’d love for this hot, gross, miserable weather to go away and to just fast forward to autumn.

What were you doing an hour ago? Making this side blog. <<< Awww, can’t believe I’ve had it for six years now. An hour ago I was scrolling through Tumblr and listening to ASMR.

If you could seek revenge on someone would you? Nahh. I’m not revengeful. <<< Yeah, I’ve never been a vengeful person.

Does any part of your body hurt right now? Nope. <<< Yes.

Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed? Sighhhh. It’s been like two years since I’ve kissed anyone. I feel so deprived of any affection. The situation with me and ~him is complicated. Isn’t it always? <<< Ohhh boy, it most certainly was. Ha, if I felt deprived then imagine six years later.

Can you recall the last time you liked someone? Yep. Right this very second. I more than like him at this point, but like I said. It’s complicated. <<< It was such a mess. I don’t know why I allowed it to go on as long as it did. :/ I should have known nothing was going to change. Since that time with Joseph, I fell in love with Ty and I thought that was actually going to lead to something, but surprise, surprise it did not.

Would you ever get a tattoo? I want to. I’m just a big ol’ baby. <<< Yep, still am. I highly doubt I’ll ever get it done.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? HA. That’s funny. <<< *Spongebob transition thing: Six. Years. Later.* Still single!

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Uhh. Probs my mom yesterday when she called from work. <<< My mom yesterday when she called from the store.

Who was the last person you talked to in person? My brother. <<< Yep.

What plans do you have for tomorrow? Coffee with Amanda. Maybe get some more Christmas shopping done. Hopefully! <<< Omggg, back when I had friends and actually did stuff! ha. And aww, Christmas shopping. Wow, going out and doing things back when we weren’t going through a worldwide pandemic. Presently, I don’t have any plans for tomorrow.  

Has a friendship ended recently that you wish had not? Not recently, but yes a friendship has ended that I wish had not. <<< All my friendships ended a few years ago...

What are you listening to right now? Hey Arnold. <<< An ASMR video.

What happened at 9:00 am today? It hasn’t been 9am yet, but I imagine my ass will be on the couch scrolling through Tumblr and watching tv. Exciting stuff, guys. <<< Ha, you won’t catch my ass up at 9AM anymore. I’ll be sleeping.

Ever given your ALL to someone who walked away? Yes. I put my heart on the line and they walked away. Awesome. <<< Yepppp. Twice.

Have you ever kissed the last person you texted? Nooo. <<< Just on the cheek.

Do you and your last ex hate each other? Nah. We don’t talk, but there’s no hard feelings. <<< Same.

What are you afraid of? Life. Death. <<< That sums it up quite well. Short and precise. 

When was the last time you were sick? Always. <<< True. I’ve also been getting this gross nauseous feeling that comes and goes that hits at random. As for a virus or something of that sort, I had a cold back in April.

Are you one of those people who are always cold? No. Although, I am right now. <<< Nooo, definitely not. I’m someone who seems to be hot a lot of the time. Like now. I wish I was cold. 

Where are your biological parents? In their room. Sleeping. <<< That’s where they are now, too. I swear they haven’t been there since then. ha.

Do you have any summer plans yet? I wish. It’s still awhile away, though. It could change. <<< There won’t be any summer plans this year.

Do you tend to waste a lot of money? On food. Always. <<< I don’t spend much on food anymore, actually. I’ve gotten better about my online shopping, too. I’ve been better at saving money these days than I used to be.

Last thing that you said out loud? “Goodnight, Jon.” <<< “Goodnight.” I’ve pretty much always done my surveys at night, so.

Do you have trust issues? It’s not really trust issues. I just have a hard time opening up in general. <<< Still have that problem. I keep a lot to myself. I’m not at all open like I am on here.

Do you think this year will be better than the last? This year is just about over, which is crazy. I always hope the next year will be better, but there’s always something. <<< Omg. This survey was done in 2014. The next year I graduated UC and shortly after that is when things started going downhill. :/

What are you doing? This pretty much. My tv is on, but it’s background noise. <<< Same, but I’m also listening to an ASMR video.

Are you a jealous person? Yes, but not like psycho jealous. You probably wouldn’t even know it. <<< Yeah. I haven’t felt jealous in a longgg time, though.

Do you think age matters in relationships? Well, yes. To an extent. <<< Yep.

When was the last time you got a haircut? I think maybe back in July. Or a little before then. I’m trying to grow out my hair now. I’m over short hair. <<< My hair was so short then, but now it’s down to my butt! I just got a couple inches cut off back in February.

Do you know anyone that smokes weed? Tons of people. <<< Yep.

Who is the last person you rode in a car with? Mom & brother. <<< My brother.

What is one thing you’d love to happen tomorrow? I’d like to get more Christmas shopping done. My plans for that are still up in the air. I can’t believe Christmas is already next week like wth??? That went by SO FAST. <<< Uhhh, perhaps get Wingstop for dinner.

Did you sing at all today? Yes. <<< Not so far.

Do you look more like your mom or your dad? My mom. <<< Yeah, that hasn’t changed.

Where will you be 2 hours from now? In bed asleep. <<< Right here in bed, probably reading for a bit.

Are there any stressful situations in your life? A few. <<< A lot.

Are your lips chapped at the moment? Nope I’m good thanks for asking. <<< Ugh, yes. I keep licking them because I have fans blowing on me all day.

When you met the person you now love, what happened?: Uh well we met through a mutual. Nothing happened right away. He pursued me first after awhile, but I wasn’t interested initially. Boy did that change. <<< I don’t understand why he did that. He was never interested in really pursuing anything with me, but sure made me think that and I fell for him. He knew how I felt about him and he kept playing me. ANYWAY, I don’t currently love anyone in the romantic sense.

Did you realize anything today?: No, but it’s early. <<< Not so far.

What do you need right now?: Sleep probably. <<< Yeah, I definitely need that.

What’s your favorite food?: Mongolian BBQ. <<< Man, I was obSESSED with Mongolian BBQ for the longest. I miss that. D: I can’t eat spicy food anymore, sadly. Ugh, it was SO good. My favorite food now is garlic parm and lemon pepper wings from Wingstop.

How are you feeling today?: Just kind of whatever. It’s 1 in the morning. <<< Hot and tired and blah.

What is your biggest fear?: Life and death. <<< We went over this already in this survey...

Describe your looks to us: Ugly? Ha. I don’t know. Look at my avatar. <<< Yeah, look at my avatar. 

Have you ever woke up next to someone and wanted to puke? UH no I can honestly say I have not. <<< Nope, thankfully.

What are you listening to right now? Degrassi. <<< An ASMR video still. 

Are you afraid of death? Very. <<< Yes.

Do you open up to people easily? No. It takes a lot. <<< I’m still that way. Even people I’m close with I still struggle with that.

Do you miss anyone? So very much. <<< There’s always a few loved ones I’ll miss that have passed away.

What are you going to do tomorrow? I feel like I’ve been asked this a billion times. <<< For real, we’ve been over this. 

Does any part of your body hurt right now? Noooo. <<< Yes.

[sad-af1121]

Magnets (One-shot)

Summary: What could possibly be the best way to let someone know some exciting news? You went with an easy plan in such a short amount of time but you wanted to cherish the moment with Bucky, even if it was cheesy. At least you’d have a story to tell your firstborn and how exactly it went down.     Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader  Word Count: 1825 Warnings: FLUFF A/N: Credit to @ruby-white-rabbit for the cute hc. Thank you, dear! Feedback is welcomed 💜

The sweet and strong taste of green tea flooded your mouth as you take a sip to wake yourself up. The earthy fluid rested on your tongue, awakening some of your senses.  Caffeine was a dire need now, especially if you had to wake up this early for what you planned about 24 hours ago. You couldn’t have your usual expresso due to well… you being pregnant. It was only yesterday when you found out about the exciting yet frightful news. You told yourself this was good. More than that.

This was a new beginning.

And honestly, it sucked ass that you couldn’t indulge in caffeine because you couldn’t go a day without it. Yes, you were more productive and lively when you drank a couple of cups throughout the day. But you didn’t want to risk intaking too much for the sake of the little bundle of joy you were soon going to have.

You were sitting on the couch watching Friends when you had the sudden impulse to puke. It ran itself up your throat before you emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. Relief washed over you once you made it to the bathroom, sweat resting on the top of your brows. Just in time too or else you would had used Bucky’s combat boot as a waste bin again.

He wouldn’t have been too pleased about that. It could explain the other times you got drunk and used his favorite pair to do exactly that. He obviously forgave you, but he kept his shoes hidden whenever you got to that stage. That taught him a lesson too: not to leave his things lying around or else bad things might happen to them.

Aka they’re shit out of luck.

You thought back to the food you ate the night before. Maybe the buffalo wings you ordered from that sketchy restaurant were bad? It’s not like you haven’t had them before; they were your lazy food whenever you didn’t feel like cooking for the night. And on those nights Bucky wasn’t home. Missions and paperwork kept him busy for most days out of the week, so you didn’t have to worry about his strict diet guidelines he set for you. So what you like eating fries dipped in chocolate sauce. It tasted so fucken good to you.

However, Bucky refuted that. Telling you ‘you should eat foods to fuel your body. Not to fill it up with nonsense things.’ You just agreed and ate food that were good for you. But hell, it didn’t stop you from having cheat days.  

You stared at yourself in the mirror. The color of your skin lost its beautiful warmth, the awful taste in your mouth made you queasy and the slight pain in your tummy troubled you. It wasn’t too bad, it was bearable. The soft chill of the Fall season didn’t raise any questions to catch the common flu or cold, so it was hard narrowing down the source.

Your face scrunched in thought before the light bulb in your head went off. Mother Nature didn’t visit you last month and it was starting to look like she wasn’t going to come this month either, making you smack your forehead with frustration. Quickly, you laid out about three pregnancy tests (thank god Wanda gave them as a gag birthday gift), and peed on them, waiting for the results. Those 5 excruciating minutes had your nerves wrecked and your heart almost gave out with the tension you built inside your head. Whether or not Bucky would be happy was a constant thought. It wasn’t like you two hadn’t talked about having kids.

Because he wanted them. Badly.

Your body was under utter stress, screaming with anxiousness as you shut both eyes, exhaling deeply before opening one eye to peak at the tests. Your vision wasn’t that great, especially since you were about 3 feet away from lines that are smaller than the size of a rice grain. Stepping closer, and opening both eyes, you looked down on the counter as they widened at the double lines on each test, informing you that you’re pregnant. Every emotion possible danced inside of you and you didn’t know what to do next.

Squealing with joy, you ran out the bathroom to call Bucky home, but you stopped in front of your phone, wanting this moment to be special- something to remember when thought back to. Thus, you called Wanda. And boy was she jumping up and down like a five-year-old. You could have sworn you lost your hearing with her shriek of enthusiasm and cheerfulness. You two gossiped about how excited you were, discussing a plan to tell Buck that you were carrying his child.

And here you are, setting the little box filled with children’s alphabet magnets on the comforter of the bed as you carefully sit on your knees beside Bucky’s metal arm. You could have gone with a better way of telling him, but you wanted your husband to know as soon as he woke up. His hair was disheveled, covering most of his face. You brush his chestnut locks out from his eyes, smiling down at his peaceful state. Leaning in, you place a chaste kiss on his forehead. Bucky sucks in a breath, making you still in that position, your lips just inches away from him. You were afraid to move because he might wake up and ruin the little plot. But he simply turns onto his side, giving you a better access to his arm.

“This better fucking stick.” You assertively murmur under your breath before placing the letters onto his arm, releasing a breath of hope as they adhere to the metal. These were cheap magnets and you were content that they worked. After about 15 minutes of perfecting each character on his arm, your eyes roam over to his alarm clock that was about to ring in 30.

“Shit!” Hissing, you hurry off the bed, pushing the little box under as you rush out the bedroom to leave for work. Thank goodness you got ready beforehand or else Bucky wouldn’t have let you go after finding out. Grabbing your bag and keys, you run out your apartment, the foolish grin on your face never leaving as you made your way to your car then work.

Humming in his sleep, Bucky’s eyes flutter open, lids heavy with slumber as he groans. “Baby?”

He calls out to you, only meeting silence in return. He gets the idea that you left for work like usual, nothing in his head to facetime you later to see your beautiful face. Bringing his flesh hand to his eyes, he rubs away the remaining of his sleep, narrowing his sight at the clock before shutting off the alarm the second it began to ring. Smirking, he turns over again, pulling the covers up to his neck as he snuggles with the fresh cotton before tensing when his phone rings throughout the quiet home.

“Jesus Christ.” He growls, throwing the blanket over to reach for his phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, buddy. We need you down at the tower, like now.” Clint informs, nodding over to Steve as he walks beside him. “We got new recruits and you and Cap need to do some early training with them. Orders from Fury.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky stares at the ceiling, irritation laced in his tone. “I need to shower -”

“You can shower here. Now get your ass up. See you soon.”

“I- Hello? Did he just hang up on me?” Bucky scoffs, eyeing the phone with disappointment before tossing it to the side. He gets out of bed, his feet weighing a ton as he drags them across the wooden floors. Exhaustion resided inside him, but duty calls.

After using the toilet and splashing cold water on his face, Bucky walks out, quickly grabbing his jeans and a new t-shirt before slipping those on. Within a short time, Bucky’s out the door, throwing his jacket over his shoulders before getting in his car and driving to the tower.

The usual elevator ride to the gym wasn’t anything exciting. He wondered what he would have to do today when he’d get free time to himself, or if his mind would mess with his day. He could only hope and pray.

The elevator grabs his attention as the steel doors open, the sounds of grunts and groans coming from the distance as Bucky makes his way to the locker room. There, he’s greeted by Clint who happens to be changing out of his training clothes.

“I thought we were training the newbies?” Bucky asks, pressing his flesh thumb onto the padlock of his locker as it turns from red to green.

“Nope. I said you and Steve were. I just got done working out. Got a mission later with Nat.” Clint informs, stuffing his boxing tape inside his locker before shutting it. “Besides. You guys are great history teachers too.”

Just then, Steve enters, chuckling at Clint’s words. “Really, Barton?”

Bucky huffs, shaking his head as he pulls off his coat and hangs it on the hook. “That joke’s old.”

“Yeah, like you.” Clint snorts, making Bucky turn slowly in a creepy yet terrifying manner. His fists clench by his sides as his nostrils flare with anger. But both Clint’s and Steve’s widened eyes and surprised expression cause confusion.

“What.”

“Your arm man.” Clint chuckles with excitement. Bucky looks down before interrupted by Steve.

“Congratulations!” Steve beams, wrapping Bucky in a bone-crushing embrace.

“What?” Bucky asks again, harsher than before. Steve pulls away, grabbing Bucky’s metal arm and showing him the magnets that spell out “u r a dad.”

“Wh-what.” Bucky stares at the magnets, his features turning light. His heart is racing and thudding incredibly fast to the point where it feels like it might give out. He re-reads the words, processing the information before seizing his phone from his back pocket, face-timing you.

Ring, ring, ri-

“Heeeeeey.” You grin, taking in Bucky’s flabbergasted expression as a hint. He knows.

“H-hi… Magnets? Really?” He laughs out, taking a seat before his feet decide to give out from under him. He had millions of emotions coursing through him right now.

“Yes!! I only had 24 hours.” You playfully pout, giggling as the butterflies return in your stomach.

“I love it... I love you.” Bucky blurts, laughing louder as he looks around the room. He can feel the tears forming in his eyes but he’s holding them back, knowing he needed a private moment with you. “Get your things. I’m coming down there. Can’t believe I’m going to be a dad!”

“No Buck. Stay- Jesus Christ, he hung up on me.” You chuckle breathlessly, leaning back in your seat.

You should have waited for the weekend because there was no way he’s going to let you out of his sight from now on.

Goodbye cheat days. 

PERM TAGS:  @thatawkwardtinyperson  @jezzula @finallybreathee @plumfondler @atari-writes @angryschnauzer  @badassbaker @papi-chulo-bucky @amrita31199 @cumonbucky @soldatbarnes @random-fandom-girl2000 @lostinspace33 @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying  @rda1989 @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt  @melconnor2007  @feelmyroarrrr @iamsooooohappy  @elaacreditava   @broken-pieces  @ms-potts-to-you @hardcollectiontrashworld @i-kneel-for-king-loki @hufflevirgoclaw @charliexowrite @valkyeries

FIC TAGS: @3brosangel @ruby-white-rabbit @chrisevanshh  

(permanent tag list is open/ also tumblr won't let me tag a few of you. I apologize.) 

[indeego]

Vent #1

I go to a school where our suites have 2 rooms, 2 people each (usually 3 in one room, but then covid happened). So my roommate, the one I actually share a space with, is sometimes hard to deal with.

We had to take a little personality quiz to be matched with someone, like how messy are you, are you a night owl, etc etc. I think I’m kind of half and half with neatness. I’m not perfect, but I usually leave my messes out of sight/under the bed if I have them. Well, when I met my roommate I thought they would be similar, but no. They flat out told me they lied on the form because they were embarrassed to admit how messy they were or something. Like, bruh. No one is using that to judge you, they’re using it to match you with a good roommate to live with, i.e. someone else who’s messy and won’t mind living in it. It’s all on their side which is good, but there’s so much old food wrappers and cans, and one time a whole ass pizza sat in our room for 3 days. They never do their chores (but to be fair, I’m not so great at keeping up with mine either), never takes out the trash in our bathroom, never replaces the toilet roll, uses a shit ton of said toilet paper as well as q-tips, and I pay to replace all of them. They even told me to my face that they are never gonna take out the garbage from our bathroom, and that if he tried to help with the main room garbage they’d throw up. Me too bitch, I nearly throw up doing it cause we’re all nasty but it has to be done!! Smaller detail but they also use a shit ton of ketchup and most of it gets wasted and thrown away and like fdjklfdsjfskld just make a smaller pile and get more if you need it it’s not that hard. They also planned bringing their dog here at some point this year without consulting me at all, and expects us all to help out with her. They even said “so picking up dog poop makes me wanna puke” and then looked at me all expectantly like I was gonna let out and clean up after THEIR DOG. I straight up had to say I wasn’t gonna pick up their dog’s shit. I can’t take her for walks, I can’t play with her, I’m too busy trying to hold myself together and keep up with school work. I got so stressed out last semester with finals, we all did, and you want to add a dog on top of that??? Another small detail, they are constantly using nasal spray. I get it, you gotta use it to breathe sometimes, but I have never once seen them blow their nose. Not once in the many months of living with them. Just the constant sniffle sniffle sniff sniff sniffle sniffle I’m gonna SCREAM! JUST BLOW YOUR NOSE!!!! Honestly I’m kinda pissed that I could have gotten a different roommate.

Now, part of the lack of motivation with chores and stuff is because they have a lot of mental health issues. Severe depression, anxiety, ptsd, suicidal tendencies, etc. They mentioned to me that they had been in psych wards before for this it got so bad. Now I myself have definitely had a history with poor mental health. It was bad for a really long time, I even got close to a suicide attempt once. I hated myself in every possible aspect, but now I’m finally starting to love myself. I’ve made definite progress, even if it’s not perfect, and I’m really proud of myself for that. But part of that is I stopped making depressing and self deprecating jokes, and turned to more positive ones. I stopped saying I was stupid or garbage or whatever, now I’m like “I’m cool and sexy and powerful actually” and it’s been great. My roommate however, is still in that headspace of self deprecation and self hate and I think it’s starting to rub off on me. I’ve caught myself saying I was stupid more than a few times, and generally my mood has gotten worse over this school year. And just the other week, my roommates depression meds ran out, and Walgreens wouldn’t give them a refill (Walgreens in general has been so shitty to this whole household lately like fuck you Walgreens). This meant they had to go cold turkey for 5 days, and slowly they got more moody and upset and depressed (also tangent, I know they have phone anxiety but that can’t be a catch all excuse all the time. They never call before their prescription runs out, and that’s why they have to go days without it. Then they go through a whole spiral for like a week and I’m just thinking “what did you expect to happen, that more drugs would just instantly appear?” I have anxiety about phone calls too, that’s why I have to write a script out before I do certain phone calls, maybe try that). They were constantly saying that they wanted to die, and all I could offer was a “please don’t do that” and suggest taking a shower, drinking some water, or eating a proper meal. It got so bad that they woke me up in the afternoon saying I needed to drive with them to the hospital because their therapist said it was that, or he’d call the cops to escort them. I spent my entire afternoon at a hospital with them, feeling very uncomfortable with the situation. I now have the job of locking their pills and sharp objects in my nightstand drawer so they don’t kill themselves. I feel like I’m the only thing keeping them from committing suicide, and I already got a lot of trauma from that with my mom, I don’t want history repeating itself with my roommate. I don’t want to fear that I’ll wake up and find their corpse, or that I’ll hear them overdosing from the room over and have to call an ambulance. I thought things would get better after the hospital gave them a month refill of their meds, but things still aren’t improving. They keep saying “what if I just killed myself,” “what if I just die,” “what if I just jump out the window,” “I wanna kill myself” and it makes me so feel so uncomfortable and bad, like if I say the wrong thing I’ll set them off or be responsible for making their mood worsen. I know they can’t control that their brain doesn’t produce what it needs to, but I don’t want to be responsible for them and their life. But I have to pretend to be ok with all of this because they don’t have any other option.

Related to that, they also mentioned how they’ve never really had any real friends before (in person at least), and that it’s been really nice to have the rest of us with them and not hate them. But I sometimes don’t enjoy living with them at all. They’ve told me how they had a poor childhood with no friends, and they feel like all their friends eventually stop talking to them and leave them, and it makes me feel guilty for wanting to do the same thing. They think it means they’re too annoying to deal with (which I mean they’re annoying sometimes but I can deal for now), but I feel like it’s more because they’re kind of a huge ball of negativity and sudden mood swings. I’d feel bad just totally ditching them, but I honestly don’t think it’s good for my mental health to be dealing with them and living with them.

Something else is that they are really into Critical Role. Like, mega obsessed with it. I understand it’s probably a hyperfixation and a comfort show, but they’re so invested that when something bad happens in the show it really impacts their mood. Like, they got genuinely really angry and slammed the door of our room when a character almost died. They lay on the floor for nearly 20 minutes after an episode when something bad happens. They also scream so goddamn loud. They’re in our room with the door closed but that does nothing to muffle the sound. So many loud yells and screams and shouting it makes me want to punch a wall. And the fact that the show goes until midnight or later so our room is just occupied until then. Sometimes I want to go to sleep at a decent hour, or I’m just tired, but I don’t want to make them go into the main room because then ALL of us will hear them and no one wins. They also have put so much of their mental wellbeing on if Liam O’Brien likes their fanart or not. They have said “if Liam doesn’t like this fanart I’m gonna kill myself” like, he’s a busy real life adult man who doesn’t have time to sift through every piece of fanart that comes his way. Sure it might happen, but if it doesn’t then tough luck, you gotta move on. You can’t hinge your entire mental wellbeing on a stranger giving you a like on twitter.

I know that a good option for me would probably be to request a new roommate or something, but I don’t know how that would work. I really like the other two, even if I also have small things I dislike, it’s nothing like this level. I don’t know, if anyone out there sees this and has some advice I’d appreciate it.

[seekingwonders]

okay im a fckng attention seeker but the way i wrote the full moon in this fic makes me so happy here it is in its completely unedited since i first wrote it & un-beta-ed glory. content warning for vomiting, suicidal tendencies, and all that full moon fun stuff.

good job 2014!em

He had been wrong to fear Charms but right to think sitting down for two hours twice in the same afternoon would mess with his knees, his back, his neck and somehow, his wrist. He hadn’t even been writing.

“Can you help cutting that off?” Remus absently asked Peter as they sat down, again, this time for dinner. “And my right knee.”

“Sure, push up your sleeve a little.”

Remus yelped when the knife brushed to his skin.

“Sorry, Moony. Sensitive?”

“Yeah. Fucking burns. Don’t know what I’ve done to it.”

He left his left arm to die next to him, helping himself to his other one to rest his head on and wait it out. There was nothing else to do, anyway. Nothing that would change what would happen tonight. He’d eat food in a bit, just to have something in his stomach to throw back up as the moon rose but that was the extent of relief he could bring his body. (...)

“Evening Mister Lupin.”

“Evening.”

Remus paced to the other side of the room before Madam Pomfrey was done greeting his friends with reproaches to have walked him here despite her multiple warnings not to. In the background of his fast beating heart, his friends gave her every excuses and soon were making her laugh.

“How are you feeling, Mister Lupin?”

“Fine.”

“What’s this on your wrist?”

“Ice.”

“Right, good thinking. Will you need anything for the wait?”

“No.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes then.”

“Ok.”

“So is it a snow night, then?”

Remus only understood he was spoken to at Peter’s third repeat. “What?”

“Want to go by the snow patch?”

“Don’t care.”

“We should go by the Really Big Tree.”

“Really fucking stupid name,” Remus contributed when he touched the wall by them, and went back toward the other side of the room.

“There are fairies there.”

He heard James roll his eyes at Sirius’ sulky tone. “We’ll let you eat the fairies. Perhaps Moony’ll help too.”

Remus’ stomach heaved at the thought. He stopped his ritual to take a deep breath. He wasn’t about to vomit before the Full. He was absolutely not letting his body do that.

“Joking, Remus. We’ll just fool around by the Really Big Tree and then come back by the snow patches.”

Remus came to the bed, sorry to have to sit in it before the three next days but not chancing anymore pacing.

“Do you mind…” He gestured toward the door and them as a whole.

“Sure. We’ll see you in a bit.”

“It’ll go well, Moony,” James assured, stopping to ruffle his sweaty curls. “Think snow!”

“I’ll think snow,” Remus mumbled back as he watched them cross the door. (...)

Remus laid back on the bed, ignoring the heat, ignoring the joints he would inflame, the bones he would break, ignoring that this was only the beginning of the sharp claws coming at him. (...)

“Would you like me to massage your hands?” Sirius asked, same soothing voice he used on his brother’s whims.

“No,” Remus sharply said, closing his eyes to escape anyone’s discomfort but his own. “Thanks. No, it’s fine.”

“You should keep pacing. That usually helps you.”

“No,” he said, and schooled his tone again: “I almost puked. I’d rather not.”

“Is there anything you would like me to do?”

“No.”

“May I touch you?”

Remus silently repeated to himself that whenever Sirius did leave with their friends, when Remus was alone, Remus did miss him. For some reason.

“This hand doesn’t hurt. Yet.”

To forego Remus’ unhelpfulness, Sirius sat down by him, Remus’ hand gently nested between his.

“Pomfrey is going to come back.”

“She knows, Remus.”

“What? No, she doesn’t.”

“She does.”

“Since when?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps since I asked her which healer group she would recommend we support.”

“What for?”

When Remus looked, Sirius had dubious grey eyes to show him. “The cure.”

“Oh. Right. Financed by the Blacks. Your great aunt would be pissed.”

“It was my thirteenth’s birthday present.”

Remus snorted. He shook his head, damning his own discomfort not to feel like kissing the lips of the boy by his side.

“Thanks.”

“Mm,” Sirius only said.

“I don’t want to do it.”

Remus let the silence stress the impossibility Sirius could do anything about that.

“I’m not even asking for a cure.” He took a breath. “I just wish I could skip the one.”

“We’ll find a cure.”

“I don’t care about the cure.”

He turned to Sirius’ side to put his lips to his, feeling them dry over Sirius’ skin and hopping there was any pleasure at all for Sirius even if there were none for him.

“Can I do anything?” Sirius asked after another stretch of impossible quiet.

“Just give me something silver and we’ll be done with it.”

Sirius did exactly what Remus always wanted him here for. He didn’t ask for Remus to cheer up.

Sirius stayed by him.

He stayed by Remus until Madam Pomfrey came back. He stayed by Remus through the dreaded walk in empty passageways and was still there when she opened the door of Remus’ cage.

“I don’t want to do it,” Remus said. He rushed to hold onto Sirius, hold him tighter, forgetting what Pomfrey knew or didn’t. “I don’t want to do it.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Sirius whispered to his ear, his soothing hands on Remus’ back. “I won’t leave for long.”

Remus shook his head, gripping Sirius’ shoulders. “I don’t want to. Please.”

“Mister Lupin, we have to go. The moon will be up in less than ten minutes.”

“Please, please, please-”

“You won’t be alone. We’ll all be with you. It won’t hurt as much.”

“It still hurts.” Remus’ voice broke. “I don’t want to.”

“Mister Black-”

“Leave. I’ll stay a little more.”

“Lord Black there’s nothing else we can do. Remus, be reasonable. You can’t ask anyone to stay with you. You know that.”

Remus hated that tone. That tone had told the same thing to him as a boy begging for his mother. That tone only wanted to protect itself.

“Leave,” Sirius repeated, colder, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You are under my responsibility as a student, I am not leaving you here.”

Remus took another breath of the scent that had kept him calm, the scent he would forever associate with the safety of Sirius’ arms. The scent the wolf didn’t know.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice wavering, “go. Go. I’ll… I’ll be okay. Go, go, go,”

“I’ll be there, Remus, in just a moment.”

Remus unwrapped his arms like they weighted a ton each, backing away from Sirius to find a wall to put his back against. He slipped down against it, bringing his knees to himself and burying his head down.

“Go,” he begged.

Remus never remembered them leaving.

To be fair, he never remembered them coming in and he never remembered the night.

His body was pure agony from start to finish. And then some.

Her palm – he knew Madam Pomfrey’s hand like the religious knew their salvation, her palm against his fingertips. He didn’t tap to it. He didn’t move. He hated having to move. Since his friends changed to be with him, he didn’t have to signal furious pains anymore.

But it still hurt.

It still wasn’t fair.

Her presence – like his mother’s, never leaving, always coming back to him for small adjustments to his aching existence.

He wished she would always feed him by that spell down his throat that kept him from malnourishment and puking both at once. But she never did. She always insisted on one less dose of potion, and one less, and one less until Remus woke up.

 Remus always woke up to another month to get through.

Remus never wanted to wake up.

 Twelve hours later on the dot, she started with his eyes. She dimmed the lights to a shadow atmosphere and slipped the tissue off.

He always thought to fight it, to refuse this second cycle of torture. But her palm rested against his fingertips and Remus opened his eyes.

She smiled.

He threw up.

 The process went like this: whatever she did next to bring him back to life, his body rejected it in violent contractions from his stomach to his mouth.

His nose was always the last sense she gave him back but he could still taste it on his tongue, the blood willing Remus to die.

 “Good morning.”

In the dark, with most of his senses numbed, Remus relied on the muscle memory telling him whose lips were kissing the ring finger of his left hand.

“I’ve given you your necklace back. We’ve had a great Full. How are you feeling?”

 “Evening, Remus. Guess how fast James fell asleep? He didn’t even make it to Care. He found an armour to fall into, this time. Great fun. You’ll be sorry you’ve missed it. I’ve drawn you a picture.”

 “I need about ten thousand naps, Moony. D’you think Pomfrey will flip if I sneak in with you?” James’ voice. Welcome for a second in the silence of the infirmary, and then the sense that he was moving around making Remus yearn for being able to do this so easily. 

“She probably will, James.” Peter’s voice. Strained. He usually was the first to get back on his feet after a night of what was for them animagi fun. But still. So much magic wasted to keep Remus company.

“I think you can find a way to convince her, actually.” Sirius.

“Like what?” James, perking up at the idea of mischief. 

“Impress me.” Sirius.

“Make it at a Sunday practice and I’ll try it, Padfoot.” James, no more tired, all challenge.

“I’ve already told you I’m not waking up early on Sundays. Besides you need to sleep some day of the week.” Sirius.

“Ugh… don’t talk about sleeping. I need sleep. I need so much sleep.” James, whining yet still moving, moving.

“Go back to the dorm, then.” Peter, rolling his eyes. Probably looking back to Remus to meet his eyes and share the mockery. 

“Wormtail! I, James Horus Potter, leaving Moony? Me? How do you think Moony would feel!” James, still so much energy, still so full of life.

“I don’t think he’s awake yet.” Peter, bored, some. If it wasn’t for them getting out of Remus that he did hear on the second day, even if it seemed like he didn’t, Peter wouldn’t have bothered talking to a corpse.

Remus remembers so much from hearing on second days. No one else knows he can.

“Mm…” Sirius.

“That alpaca wool looks sooo comfortable…” James, childish voice, childish needs.

“Isn’t that new?” Peter, perking up at the idea of something to talk about that isn’t a corpse. 

“There was a study done this summer that alpaca wool had some weight to it that felt good to healing patients.” Sirius.

“Can I just roll myself in it?” James, looking for mischief. 

“I’m sure Moony wouldn’t mind.” Peter, looking for entertainment. 

“I think he would, James.” Sirius.

“Neither of you are fun. Moony? Remus?” James, relentless.

“No one’s home.” Peter, helpless. 

“Fuck… And even if he wakes up, he’ll keep falling back asleep, anyway.” James, fighting the urge to give up.

“I’m sure Remus won’t take offence if you go back to the dorm, James.” Sirius.

“He might. What would you say then, James? Sorry I needed sleep more than I wanted to keep company to my recovering best friend?” Peter, finally entertained.

“I hate you Peter, I hate you so much.” James, still refusing to let Remus rot.

“Go to sleep, James. I’ll stay a moment.” Sirius.

Sirius applied his hand to his fingertips; the soft brush of his ring finally sending familiar signals to Remus’ nerves of something that wasn’t pain.

“Madam Pomfrey will be done with her diner in a few minutes. Would you like me to stay the night?” Remus didn’t move. “Does that mean you would like me to stay but won’t ask me?”

Remus tapped his middle finger to Sirius’ palm, not minding if the thought of flipping Sirius off was lost in the translation.

“She let us in because she believed you would start speaking to us. You’re three hours late in her book.”

He wished Sirius would move his hand in his, let him feel the softness of his skin over the sensitive tip of his fingers. He wished that and that Sirius would leave him well alone.

“James asked if you had mistakenly cut your tongue. She wasn’t amused.”

There was a shift in the room, the sweet taste of magic in Remus’ next open-mouthed breath. Sirius’ hand left his and found him again, this time brushing his fingers to Remus’ palm. Remus tried to shake his head, to tell Sirius not to stay close, to take his hands off. But first he vomited against the shiver.

“I was just thinking it had been long since you’d done this.”

 After his ears were freed from the magical wax, Pomfrey waited three hours to check he could handle the smells. Often, she had to wait three hours more for Remus to stop vomiting.

This time was not an exception.

Remus watched the sunset in the flowing shadows of his closed curtains. The second day was over. One to go. Until the next month.

 “Mister Lupin if you would talk to me.”

When he was little, there was a second part to that sentence. Sweets, often promises of travelling, sometimes whole holidays to Rome if he was a good boy. But at seventeen, the sentence was an order without gain.

“Thank you.”

Remus watched the sternness fawn from her mouth. “Good. You’re very welcome. On a scale of one to ten, how would you say you feel?”

“Five.”

“Leaning toward six?”

“Just five.”

“Good. Well, shall we start with solids today, then?”

Remus looked at her good demeanour, no-nonsense voice, that gentle smile ready to pat him on the head. And still all she ever did was to assist the pain, hand in hand with it yet never asking Remus like the healers had, would you rather die, boy.

“Sure.”

She didn’t ask that question nor did she relent with the potions or give in with coaxing Remus into doing always something more. He had barely stopped heaving when Peter and Sirius visited again.

“Did we miss the fun part?”

Remus lifted his numb hand to flip Peter off. He let it fall back down and turned his head away from them.

“James fell asleep in Transfig. McGonagall was not impressed at. All.”

Finally Peter gave in, wishing him a good night. Sirius’ hand was in his before Peter had crossed the door. Remus held onto the ring Sirius was brushing on the tip of his fingers. He drew over the crow of the Black seal, enjoying how weird the edges felt under his drugged fingers.

“I’ve missed you.”

Remus raised unconvinced eyebrows. “I haven’t missed me.”

“Would you like some water?”

“No.” He sighed, feeling the breath but not its effects. “I’m fine.”

“Would you like to come back to the dorm after you stop taking that last potion?”

“What?”

“I’ve talked to Madam Pomfrey. She thinks you could if you wanted to.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Would you like me to stay until then?”

“No. No, actually. Do you mind if…”

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Sirius’ nod. “I’ll come back in the morning.”

“If I can go up to the dorm, there’s no need, really.”

“Well, then. May I… I’ll let you rest.”

“Hey,” Remus sighed as Sirius’ hand left him. “I’d like a kiss, too.”

Sirius smiled, leaning to lightly peck his lips. Remus gave what he hoped looked like a smile and not like he would have liked cutting off every part of himself that did not conform to the numbness.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

The door closed, leaving him to wonder why Sirius hadn’t stayed.

[aaminahwrites]

The Beauty Behind the Struggle: Drugs and Hijabs

Young Muslims open up about their life struggles and discuss how it changed them

 Drugs and alcohol is such a taboo topic in Islam. Islam teaches Muslims to stay away from alcohol because when you are intoxicated, a person cannot control his or her actions, leading them to possibly make a very big mistake. Although it is haram, or not permissible, many young Muslims seem to turn to alcohol when faced with difficulties, rather than lay out a prayer mat and ask Allah for guidance. 21-year-old Aisha from Leicester tells her story of her struggle with alcohol and drugs.

 “In early 2015 I became very depressed and I was on a lot of medication. It was my 19th birthday my friends convinced me to go out to the club and it didn’t seem like a big deal but from that night on things just started getting worse. I drank a lot that night and when I got home my mum was pissed. The first thing she said to me was ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ but she didn’t realise, she just thought I was getting up to other stupid shit. After that, it was once in a while. I stopped speaking to the friend who took me out a lot and I was fine, but when we started talking a while later, that’s when it got worse. 

 “In the Summer of 2015, it got to a point where it became an everyday thing. My depression got worse and it was my way of temporarily forgetting everything that was going on in my life, but it just made everything a whole lot worse. I would even go to work drunk. My grandparents came back from Pakistan one day and I was quite drunk. We were on our way home and it was such a bad experience, we nearly got into a really bad car crash! Then I realised there’s no point in keeping people around like that, that aren’t good for me and that’s when I decided I wasn’t going to drink anymore. 

 “I stopped for a while but in Summer 2016 I was going through a really bad phase again. Not with friends or anything, I had stopped going out but I would just be drinking alone in my room and it had got back to the point where I was doing it every single day and it made me think to myself, ‘what the hell am I doing?’ 

“Now I’ m trying to be good and help myself, I haven’t touched it in a while. I’m trying really hard to be careful because it is something that can get addicting, you just need to get through it. I just used to go out to the corner shop and grab a bottle of vodka then finish it in one night and it’s just such a big waste of money too! It doesn’t even help; it was like a temporary fix for five minutes then I’d call up my friends and just cry to them. It’s just a pattern of moods, you think it would help but it really doesn’t. I used to keep drinking for two to three months straight when things got really bad but since New Year’s, I haven’t gotten completely wasted. 

 “I remember one night in Summer, it was around 5am and I got really bad chest pains, I fell asleep and when I woke up again they just got worse and I just ended up collapsing. My mum took me to A&E and the doctors started asking me really personal questions and their questions were just directing towards drinking alcohol and I just thought ‘oh my God, I’m never doing this again.’

 “My sister came into A&E with me and I was afraid to say anything in front of her but once she was sent out the room, the doctors sat me down and told me I had to tell them what was really going on. They concluded that I had alcohol poisoning because I was just puking up everywhere. After that I’ve been very careful with the amount I take and it’s not an everyday thing anymore. You just think it will make things better but it always just makes things a lot worse. The last time I drank was two weeks ago when I was out with my friends but I made sure I wasn’t drinking too much. I don’t use it as a coping mechanism anymore I just casually drink.

 “When I was 19, my circle of friends at university used to smoke weed a lot, too. It was just a casual thing and I didn’t do it to distract myself from what was happening in my life, it doesn’t really help but it just makes you feel funny for a while. Everything around you is just so funny! But it’s not something that helps with depression. It actually makes you so hungry, at 3 or 4am I used to just get the munchies and raid my kitchen for random snacks. When you have lots of alcohol and weed it trips you out so much, you just feel like you’re going to die. 

 “Weed made me so paranoid. When I used to smoke it a lot I would always think ‘oh my God, can you smell it on me?’ and just silly things like that. I would never do hard drugs like cocaine and I’m definitely not planning to. I have family members who have struggled with addiction and have ended up in jail, but weed is just a minor thing. One thing I hate is when people pretend they’re high to just fit in! Weed is just a once in a while thing, I only do it when I’m stressed with university because it relaxes me. 

 “I live in a family of 6, my dad passed away when I was 15 years old. It wasn’t really a reason to start drinking, I could have easily started drinking then but I was using other ways like self-harm to cope and I eventually stopped because nothing was helping. Everything I tried, I had all these bad coping mechanisms and none of them helped, I just thought to myself ‘I really need to grow out of everything.’ 

 “You go through rough things and you realise not everything you do is right and sometimes you have to let things be. I grew up with 4 sisters and a brother and after my dad passed away, my brother wasn’t very helpful. I didn’t have a father figure in my life and I just felt like I could do whatever I wanted and no one was going to say anything to me. I became really rebellious especially when I was 19 and I felt like my mum couldn’t control me. I knew there was going to be a time when I was going to get the biggest slap on my face and from that, I knew I was going to have to stop what I was doing. 

 “I keep myself to myself. I don’t open up to people easily and during college, I made a friend in sixth form who actually wasn’t that much of a good friend to me. My mum knew from the beginning that she was a snake but I didn’t believe her which caused arguments at home. When I left school, I left with a lot of friends but now I only have one really good friend who I go to university with. I didn’t gel with the people at university, I spend most of my time in the library just working. I have just become closed off and I’m trying to better myself and stay on the right track.”

 Whether you are going through depression or a traumatising event in your life, please remember you have so many people around you to talk to you and help you through things. Alcohol and drugs are never the answer; they only seem to make things worse. For more information on drug and alcohol abuse, call your local drug and alcohol helpline to get the help you need.

  “WEAR YOUR HIJAB PROPERLY”

 A hijab may seem like ‘just a scarf on your head’ to some, but for some Muslim women, it is a sign of independence, freedom and the ability to be totally themselves. Thousands of Muslim girls and women all around the world wear their hijabs proudly but some struggle more than others. I sat down with 20-year-old Ghayda Javed from South London to discuss her experience and she revealed why wearing the hijab was a struggle for her.

Ghayda was born and raised in London, England in a middle-class family of five. She started wearing her hijab in secondary school because she went to an Islamic school, so it became a uniform requirement. “My mum wears it and so does everyone around me it so I thought okay, I’d better start wearing it too” she says. Because it was a requirement to wear it every day at school, it didn’t make a lot of difference between her school life and her home life. She then carried on wearing it in sixth form and university. “I never saw it as a sort of ‘oh men can see my hair’ thing, I never understood that sort of aspect of it but I just wore it because everyone around me was wearing it. It was like a symbol of my independence, I’m in control of my actions now and I can do what I want, at least that’s what I thought at the time. It came to point where I did like wearing it, I’d think to myself ‘I’ll wear my scarf to weddings, I don’t feel ugly wearing it, it’s just nice. I think it came to summer 2015 when I went to Canada and I remember my dad specifically telling me ‘wear your hijab properly’ and this led me to think ‘hold on, I’m not wearing my hijab for someone else, I’m wearing it for myself, not for someone else’s opinions.” 

 This interaction with her dad caused Ghayda to rethink why she was wearing her hijab in the first place. “I realised I wasn’t wearing it for myself, I was wearing it for the people around me. I thought to myself, I will wear it the way I want to.” Slowly, she started taking off her hijab and it became less of a priority to her. “I started seeing the hijab as just a part of my religion. When you’re out in public, the first thing people think when they see a girl in hijab is ‘she’s a Muslim and probably a very strict one.’ As a Muslim, you do need to act a certain way because that’s your job to represent it in ‘the right way’. I didn’t like being outside and wearing a hijab and suppose, doing shisha because I just don’t think that’s right in my opinion, which is why when I’m out and about having fun I just take it off. I don’t want to send the wrong message about Islam.” 

 Ghayda struggled with keeping her hijab on, mainly because she was afraid of what people in the community would think of her. “I was scared to fully stop wearing it because I thought everyone in the community is going to think ‘she’s going to turn into a hoe’ so I only took it off after leaving the house or when I was far enough from home.”

 Wearing her hijab to university and to work put things into perspective for her. “I thought to myself I’m here to get my money, I’m here to get my education. I’m not here to mess about. I’m here to make something of myself and that goes back to why I started wearing it in the first place, it was a sign of independence for me.” 

 Reflecting on her journey, Ghayda discusses why she took it off. “There is something so beautiful about wearing the hijab and I want to learn it rather than putting it on because I want to wear it and that’s what I realised overtime when I took it off, that it’s a process of learning it again and the actual reasons for wearing it. It takes time and you can’t really expect someone to take this big step, just like that. But I did it in the wrong way and it took me a long time to realise that.

 Even after wearing it for the last 9 years, Ghayda still struggles with her hijab and wants to take the time to learn about the reasoning behind it, rather than wearing it for the sake of her family. “Even now I still struggle with it. It’s difficult, it’s really difficult.”