#i thought speaking my mind would give me closure. it didn’t. now she’s just aware of what happened

[ddarker-dreams]

Epiphany. Yan Albedo x Reader

Warnings: General yandere themes, implied unhappy previous relationship, and spoilers for Albedo’s story. Word count: 2k.

It wasn’t fair. 

A snowstorm, unlike anything you’ve ever seen rages outside, shards of lustrous ice falling from the sky with the intent to kill. The Dragonspine’s traditionally somber ambiance contorts into something far more sinister. Numerous hues of grays and dark blues blur together, obscuring your view of the mountainous region. It’s difficult to see anything outside Albedo’s workshop save for the storm. 

“Your shaking won’t stop unless you sit by the fire.” 

His matter-of-fact declaration startles you. Albedo hadn’t spoken in some time, his attention devoted to a specimen he had discovered prior to the storm. You would’ve shared in his enthusiasm if not for the overall situation and company. Sighing reluctantly, you stand from your spot, hugging yourself to stave off the biting cold. It’s impossible to settle on which is worse: staring at the blizzard or staring at him. 

Albedo’s fair skin glows from the light of the crackling fire, sandy blonde hair tousled around his face without care. As he studies the new specimen, his lips purse, eyes focusing on nothing but the work before him, like nothing else mattered. This is how you’ve always known him to be. Even if the world was falling apart around him, Albedo would never falter from what catches his interest until he felt sated. 

Sensing how you’re fixating on him, his attention flickers briefly to you, an unidentifiable emotion gleaming in his eyes. You’re the one to avert your gaze first. Sucrose is going to owe you majorly for this one, why did you even accept her request in the first place? Thinking about it now and cursing your past self does nothing yet you still occupy the time by doing just that. She had come to you panicked, pleading that you take this letter to Albedo in the Dragonspine, claiming it’s urgent. In the heat of the moment, your judgment lapsed and you caved. She spoke of needing to continue her research in Mondstadt or else she would’ve done it herself.

Look where your goodwill has gotten you now, you think. She owes me a week’s worth of dinner. 

You lament giving credence to his advice, but your stubbornness concedes, the cold too miserable to withstand any longer. The fire is right by his side to add insult to injury. Did he do that on purpose to spite you? It’s unlikely, yet your mind wanders to the worst-case scenario. If any other citizen of Mondstadt were privy to your suspicious thoughts, they’d think you unreasonable, as Albedo has established his reputation well. He’s a known eccentric, sure, but a genius one. A few quirks on his behalf that anyone else could overlook. 

Quirks that you used to overlook yourself.

“Would you please grab my bag,” he doesn’t look away from his prized sample but motions to the general area it’s in. “I need to write down my observations.” 

You follow through with what he asks. There was a time you’d have been over the moon to participate in his process, you used to practically trip over yourself to do anything he needed. That enthusiasm has long died off and been replaced by apathy. It’s when he reaches out to take the bag from you that you snap from your trance-like reverie. Whatever remnants of obedience that lingered in your subconscious are brushed away, as you decide to finally challenge him.

Inhaling sharply, you hold the bag just out of his reach, finally earning his recognition for more than a millisecond. 

“I’m not your assistant anymore.” Among other things, you think. 

The words come out more childish than you intended. What you had meant to communicate was your new, critical view on him — he’s a person just the same as anyone else — who held no authority over you. You hold your breath awaiting his response. Albedo doesn’t have an intimidating presence, not in the traditional sense. It’s his mind that you’re wary of. There’s no guessing what sentiments run through his head, yet that’s never stopped you from trying to unravel the mystery that is his thought process.

He gives you a long, hard stare. “I’m aware of that.” 

Where were you going with this again? Albedo doesn’t need to point out your needlessly spiteful behavior with words, his mildly irate facial expression says it just fine. His thin eyebrows threaten to furrow together and the corners of his lips curl down into a frown. You’re unsure of what bothers him more. What you pointed out, or that his work is being interrupted for even the slightest moment. 

The budding confidence you had is all but crushed beneath the weight of his unblinking gaze. Clearing your throat, you decide to take a new approach, straightening your posture in an attempt to be taken more seriously.

“Then tell me, why do you still act like I am?” Your question comes from a genuine place of confusion. Ever since your arrival, you’ve begrudgingly done the odds and ends he’s asked of you, almost like clockwork. You had fallen back into the rhythm that was your life up until a month ago. There was just something about the silent authority he carries that makes it impossible to say no. 

That is, until now. You’re determined to clear up the problems that have plagued your mind. Albedo’s had his time to be nonchalant like nothing happened between you two, but you’re not having it anymore. 

“Force of habit,” he nods his head towards your hand that holds his possessions captive. “Now, would you please…?” 

Your grip tightens and you shake your head defiantly. “No. Or at least, not until you give me a better explanation. Not just about that. How you act in general… none of it makes sense to me.” 

It wouldn’t take much effort from his half to wrangle his bag from you, you’ve seen him in action before after all, so it comes as a surprise when he instead gives in. You blink, gaping when he takes a seat by the roaring fire, and motions for you to do the same. An opportunity like this is hard to come by. The past few weeks, it’s been your code of conduct to avoid any interaction with Albedo, but your frustration can no longer be repressed. 

You take a seat by his side but intentionally leave some distance. 

There’s so much you want to say. Insults, questions, demands, anything. Anything that could give just a hint of closure that he refused to offer himself. It doesn’t help that this familiar area brings memories with it — good and bad alike — painful nostalgia eating away at your heart from the inside out. While you battle with your inner thoughts, he observes you in silence. For a time you hear nothing but the crackling of the fire and wind howling outside.

Finding the courage to speak up, your throat tightens as you force a question out. “Did I… mean so little to you?” 

It’s rare that Albedo ever looks taken aback, but your inquiry managed to do just that. His eyes widen ever so slightly, confusion etching onto his face before he manages to compose himself. Lots of intimate discussions had gone this way. You’d spend hours prepping yourself, meticulously going over what it was you wanted to say, only for the words to die on your tongue when you saw him. 

“I don’t understand what you mean.” He appears genuinely perplexed and you can’t help but feel silly. It may have served you better to think long about this, you realize, but now it’s too late. You rush to explain yourself in hopes of making better sense. 

“When I said I wanted to, er, part ways,” you can’t help but cringe at not knowing the proper label for ending whatever was going on between you two, “You just seemed, I don’t know, indifferent…?” 

In your head, this went down in such a different way. 

Your cheeks are set ablaze by the humiliation his silence brings. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this exact way when bringing up your feelings to Albedo, yet it’s just as awful. Archons, does he always have to look at you like you have three heads? 

When he finally gives you an answer, you wish you had never asked. 

“I knew you would come back to me eventually.” 

Now it’s your turn to give him an incredulous look. He says it without an ounce of hesitation, never once breaking eye contact, his resolve holding firm. Sensing a need to clarify, he attempts to do just that. 

“I considered a variety of variables,” he raises his hand and brushes his knuckles over your face, the unexpected tenderness making you shiver. “I know how your mind works very well. When you told me that’s what you wanted, your physical mannerisms didn’t line up with what you were saying.”

Your heart drops but he doesn’t stop there. 

“Biological responses never lie. It wasn’t anxiety that kept you from looking me in the eye then, it was reasonable doubt. You know it as well as I do. There’s something about me that you can’t place, and the natural human response to the unknown is caution.”

He stops caressing your cheek. “So, tell me [First], and maybe then you’ll reach the conclusion you’ve been searching for. Why are you afraid of me?”

Everything feels wrong. How he’s whispering such horrifying ideas into your mind, leading the conversation with expertise. Is it charisma? You don’t think that’s the proper word. No, it’s how damn certain he is, how he never once leaves room for argument. 

Albedo appraises your silence coldly. 

“See? You’re not sure yourself. Thus why I knew you’d return to me,” he retracts his hand and leans back, but the ghost of his touch leaves your face tingling. “When you don’t understand something, you study it. That’s who you are. It’s why I picked you to be my assistant, that quality of exhausting curiosity, much like the one I have myself.”

He’s hypnotizing you with his words, his even tone, his silent authority. You’re drawn in like a moth to a flame and trapped in a verbal standoff. Whether it was a result of your Vision flickering subconsciously resulting in the fire diminishing or some other cause, you realize what little warmth in the cave is disappearing, your breath materializing in front of you as a result. 

But it’s only yours. 

That’s when it clicks deep inside the recesses of your mind. Apart of what always bothered you about Albedo was this sense of uncanniness. Whenever you thought you were understanding him better, new mysteries would arise, leaving you worse off than when you started. This combined with his workload and the emotional distance you felt between the two of you is what led to your separation. 

Albedo’s face is but a few inches away from yours. He’s patiently awaiting a response or anything you could muster to challenge him with, though both of you are aware that no such thing exists. 

You manage to surprise him again by asking another question. “Why… why are you not breathing?”

And how could you never have noticed until now?

His long eyelashes flutter shut. “Relationships truly are troublesome. There are unspoken rules and expectations, both of which take effort to satisfy. I hadn’t mind trying to do so to keep you happy, but that approach didn’t work as intended.” 

Had it not been for the hammering of your heart and how lighthearted you feel, you’d challenge him on his definition of trying. Instead, you watch without so much as moving an inch, too in awe to utter a single word. 

“You always asked me to be more romantic, but I guess the phrase you take my breath away won’t suffice here,” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell you, but once you know… well, I don’t think I can ever let you leave my side.”

“I hope you won’t mind keeping me company a bit longer than you intended to.” 

#albedo #albedo x reader #yandere albedo x reader #genshin impact #albedo genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

[mettywiththenotes]

Izuku’s Emotional Neglect

Hi so I’m not okay because I keep thinking about Izuku

This kid has been emotionally neglected since he was little. Izuku has had NOBODY to rely on emotionally

He didn’t have Inko, or his classmates, or All Might. Actually, All Might is borderline the only one he’s confided in [since they talk briefly about their connection of being quirkless], but he still holds back

Inko is trying her best and no parent is perfect, I see that, but what she said to Izuku that fateful night damaged that boy and the way he saw himself.

He asks her if he can be a hero, and she cries and says she’s sorry. Not only does this imply that Izuku’s quirklessness is bad, it also implies that she was lying.

And by the way, I don’t mean that Inko ACTUALLY lied that Izuku could be a hero, nor do I think that she meant to mean his quirklessness was bad.

But I need, NEED, to stress that this is how Izuku sees it. This is how he would perceive it, subconciously.

If you’re a child and you think that you can be a hero, your parent encourages it because it makes you happy. But then suddenly you can’t be a hero, and you ask them one more time if it’s possible, hoping that those little wishes you made weren’t fruitless, that maybe somehow this is some kind of dream and she’ll wake you up from it with her smile and her warmth, promising that even with this newfound “disability” you can still be a hero, but instead she cries and apologises to you? That’s going to make you think. It’s going to make you think “Was she lying? if she truly believed in me, why would she cry and say she’s sorry? why isn’t she encouraging me, like she always does? what is happening?”

It’s not the truth, and Inko DIDN’T lie, but subconsciously I feel like it’s something that betrayed Izuku a great deal.

And with the quirklessness. He hates it, he hates feeling useless, and he saw himself as useless when he was quirkless, therefore -> quirkless is something weak and awful.

Time and time again, we see this evidence of the emotional neglect he was subjected to. It’s like actively ongoing and the effects of it are seen even now

We’ll start with the Inko one. I just mentioned it, but here are the panels. It’s really just the language that she uses

“You mean there’s something wrong?”

Apologizing over and over again, like not being normal was a bad thing. Moreso, I think this just meant that she knew how hard Izuku’s life was going to be as a quirkless person, but the way she says it makes it sound like what happened to Izuku was wrong and bad and incredibly awful

Then we have All Might disregarding his feelings and telling him straight up that he couldn’t be a hero

Which then leads to this commentary

“Don’t cry! Let it sink in!!” “Just block it out, just block it all out, just-”

*pats Izuku on head* You Can Fit So Much Denial And Repression Into This Kid!

Then further along, Izuku is seen, and he gets the quirk. He is then surrounded by people that love him, that want to help him, but it’s almost like even the narrative won’t let him have emotional closure.

In most emotional closure scenes (Tsuyu crying, Kirishima vs Rappa, Iieda in the hospital with Shouto and Izuku, Kacchan vs Deku 2), there is an end to it. The character is emotional, crying or upset, and thinking back on their regrets, spilling their guts as they scream, sob, or give solemn expressions. The other characters then cheer/hype them up, reaching some sort of conclusion to the character’s pain, and the situation is more or less resolved.

But that’s not the case with Izuku. He’s always left sorta hanging there, or his hurt and anger get sidetracked by something else. One example of this is the Running With All Might scene in the UA grounds

Izuku is incredibly upset that All Might chose to withhold information on Sir Nighteye and Mirio, and he speaks about how he can’t make sense of it. He’s voicing all his worries to All Might as they run, because he can’t stand the thought of All Might keeping something like this a secret from him.

And then All Might tells him why he kept it a secret, that he didn’t feel it was necessary to let Izuku know about Nighteye’s bias, and then it divulges into him telling Izuku he’s gonna die, and Izuku focuses on that instead.

I am NOT saying that All Might did this purposefully. He didn’t try and steer Izuku’s anger away from him, it was just that it all got revealed so suddenly, so the subject changed.

The narrative tosses Izuku’s feelings of anger aside, and instead Izuku gets emotional over All Might’s potential death. Idk man, to go from angry and upset about withheld information and then immediately shoved into the knowledge that your mentor-father figure is gonna die? That’s the narrative playing with Izuku’s feelings.

Obviously, All Might’s communication skills are awful and he just kinda unloaded all this stuff on Izuku cuz he didn’t think to tell him in the first place, but I still think Izuku’s feelings got pushed around here. He had no time to process any of it

Another example is the cafeteria scene with Shouto and Iieda

The scene goes that Izuku is visibly depressed by the Eri situation and Iieda and Shouto notice. They tell him that he can talk to them when everything gets too much [a parallel to the Stain fight], and Izuku cries. Izuku insists he shouldn’t cry, and Shouto tells him that, actually, Heroes cry too sometimes, and they offer him their food in an attempt to comfort him.

But the thing is, this scene doesn’t offer closure. Closure would be Izuku seeing that he could rely on his friends and telling them how he feels [he wouldn’t have to necessarily tell them about Eri - maybe just phrase it in another way that doesn’t reveal the mission]. Closure would be Izuku accepting that Heroes can cry too, and admitting he’s not okay. Instead, we have this

The scene feels... incomplete? Like there’s no knot at the end of the rope. Izuku is being comforted, but he’s not acknowledging his own feelings of sadness.

In fact, he’s shoveling food into his mouth to stop himself from crying, to shut himself up, to try and move forward and get past his little outburst.

I would go as far as to say this is self hatred eating, trying to quell that vulnerable part inside

I wouldn’t say Izuku HATES himself now. Rather, he just makes connections to his past quirkless self in his mind. It’s the negative emotion connection

Feeling weak? Well, you’re still like your quirkless self before! You’re still not good enough and useless!

Not strong enough? Sounds like back when you were quirkless! All weak and helpless! You can’t help anyone, which is why you need to get stronger, so you can move on from your past self!

Crying? Just like when you were quirkless! You always cried back then, like a helpless kid! You can’t be like that anymore, since you are now All Might’s Successor and A Hero, so stop crying! You’re not allowed to cry anymore!

Do you see what I’m getting at here? Izuku continuously represses these emotions as he gets stronger because he connects them to when he was quirkless. If you associate certain behaviors and emotions with how you were during a vulnerable and traumatic time in your life, you’re going to want to shove those emotions down so you don’t repeat what happened back then [in this case, Izuku sees himself being vulnerable as weak, and he saw himself as weak when he was quirkless, so he’s trying not to be vulnerable anymore].

And the scary thing is, now, we can even see the hatred in real time. I’m sure there are other examples in the manga, but one scene is very prominent in my mind, and it’s this one

Izuku is so incredibly strong now, he has saved many people, but he still can’t view himself as anything other than “useless” or “helpless” unless he powers through death itself just to break himself more. He almost feels like he HAS to do that in order to be seen as worthy, for himself and others. When he’s struggling, bleeding and heavily injured, he yells at himself as if it’s all his fault.

It’s not about whether he’s aware he’s actively dying or not. To him, being worthless and useless is infinitely worse than dying.

Actually, the way Izuku practically yells at himself in this panel reminds me of when he was walking home in chapter 1 after his chat with All Might [shown above when talking about All Might’s impact]

There are two translated versions of this actually that ring alarm bells in my head. There is the panel already pictured above, but I chose this panel too because I simply think it hits harder

“Don’t cry! You knew already, right?! This is reality...”

In either translation, he’s chiding himself. For crying. For being emotional.

And once again, I totally think this stems from emotional neglect. Trying not to get too personal here, but I know what this feels like, and I know the effect it has had on me. I can’t be vulnerable or spill my feelings in front of people, it just feels illegal or smthg. Like it shouldn’t be done. And like... if you’re taught from an early age that, one way or another, your feelings don’t matter and that nobody is going to pay attention to you, why try, right?

Then you just begin to Not Feel Properly, and you become incapable of expressing your feelings in a healthy manner

Current examples of this?

Izuku literally not giving himself time to process anything, like worry, grief, sadness. If anything, the only emotion he gives time for is anger. And he specifically directs it at All For One, cause that’s his target. [we saw little bits of this in War Arc but it also applies to the current arc]

He can’t cry. He feels emotional, sure. But he never lets his tears shed.

And one last bit of evidence

I’d say most if not all of these sound about right

In conclusion I wanna hug Izuku

#istg i really don't mean to make long posts #i just have many thoughts #all the time #and once i get going on a post there's no stopping me #ahhhhh i wish i could not go on rants #but alas i have the power to and so i must #uhhhhh lmao i didn't mean to get personal in this post but here we are #bnha #bnha 321 #bnha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #tw eating disorder mention #tw eating disorder #idk if it actually is #but i looked it up and it seems connected #please i IMPLORE you if any of the info i gave seems a bit off #like the psychology stuff and eating mention #don't hesitate to message me so i can fix it #i encourage corrections #after all i'm not an expert in the field but i know what i've gone through #and it feels the same as what izuku has been through too #so yh #rambling #ramblings #the way this post jumps from ranting to analysis #PARKOUR!

[hxseok-honee]

blossom || part 20

blossom [part 20] || "Closure..."

[‘cause all i need is to see you blossom out, blossom out, blossom out]

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a/n : welcome to another 'is this a hobi chapter or is this a yoongi chapter' chapter!!!

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When Y/n leaves Gryffindor common room, her bottom lip is quivering. She’s not sure why, and she’s definitely not sure what to do about it. So she just walks. She doesn’t make the active choice to head in a certain direction, but before she knows it she’s heading downstairs toward the kitchens — she only realizes that she’d been walking to Hoseok when she turns the corner toward Hufflepuff common room and finds him there, sitting in the corridor, exactly where he said he’d be.

He looks up when he hears her shoes on the cement, his face lighting up when he sees that it’s her.

“Y/n! I was wondering if you were gonna come find me. That’s actually the reason I told you where I was-- wait, what’s wrong?” The excited rambling dies in his throat when he looks up at her properly and sees her face -- the loss in her eyes, the way she’s pursing her lips to stop them from shaking. She looks so unbelievably sad, but it clearly hasn’t registered in her own mind that she is, because she’s looking at him in confusion now.

“What do you mean?” Assessing the situation in the split-second way only someone as observant as him could, Hoseok pats the ground beside him, deciding not to be so up-front about his concerns. She settles onto the cold ground, scooting in close to press her side against his, seeking warmth. He says nothing about it, but he’s grateful -- it gets cold in the corridors in winter, and he likes the feelings she gives him when she’s close more than he’d care to admit.

“Did something happen today?” He asks while he’s looping a flower through the twine and taping it down, the same one he’d been working on when she’d arrived. When she doesn’t respond right away, he glances over at her, taking in the faraway look in her eyes -- and then he leaves her be. She’ll tell him when she’s ready.

“I talked to Jungkook tonight… we just finished talking, actually.” Hoseok isn’t sure why he’s tensing -- whether it’s because he’s worried about how she’s doing or whether Jungkook had said something to upset her. Or maybe it’s because of the little irrational voice in the back of his head telling him that somehow, Jungkook had convinced her to get back together with him. The idea of that makes him vaguely nauseous, but he does his best not to show it when he responds.

“Oh… How did it go?” He can see her nodding slowly out of the corner of his eye, meaning that it went well.

“He apologized. Said he would leave me alone and do his best to work on himself before trying to be my friend again… I guess he really wants to do things the right way this time… So that’s good…” Hoseok doesn’t say anything, staring at the ground in front of them as he waits for something else from her, any indication of how she’s feeling because all she’s done so far is give an objective retelling of the conversation. But she doesn’t speak again, so he turns to her slowly, suddenly apprehensive.

“Are you okay?” Blinking rapidly until she’s able to focus on Hoseok again, she nods, turning to him with a small smile.

“I’m okay, Hobi… relieved… sad… but okay.” He feels glad that she trusts him enough to tell him that she’s upset, but he’s not sure how to help. So he sets the unfinished flower crown on the floor in front of him, reaching over and pulling her hand into his lap so he can interlock his fingers with hers. He doesn’t say anything -- he’s not sure why she’s sad, but he knows there has to be a really good reason for her to not be overwhelmed by the happiness of finally having gotten the closure she needed--

“Closure…” He whispers to himself, realizing with a small shake of his head that he’d taken too long to put it together. Y/n looks up at him from where she’s just rested her head on his shoulder, wondering where his thoughts have gone. He squeezes her hand, meeting her eyes with a small smile. “It’s the closure… isn’t it?”

Y/n frowns, unsure what he’s getting at. And then she thinks about it -- the amount of time she’d spent being annoyed with Jungkook for not letting her have exactly that. The summer spent crying over him and then deciding that she needed to be over him by the time school started again, never giving herself a chance to reach her own form of acceptance. Closure’s exactly what she’d needed this whole time, and months later, she’s got it at last. But for some reason, knowing that she and Jungkook are finally done -- knowing that now they needed to work on their friendship more than anything — it brings her a sense of incredible loss, like finally tossing the key to the door she’d locked up so long ago and moving on from it for good.

She eventually nods, laying her head against Hoseok’s shoulder again. She doesn’t want to say more, still trying to work through her own emotions, but she knows he won’t mind -- he’s always known what she needs without her saying it aloud. But she wants to make sure he knows that she’s fully aware of him, that he’s not just the boy she runs to when she’s an emotional wreck. Because it’s starting to worry her, and she would hate for him to think that about their relationship.

Hoseok seems like a really good guy. I hope he makes you happy.

The memory of Jungkook’s text shakes her, and her stomach’s alight with nerves when she realizes that, yeah, Hoseok does make her happy. Even when he thinks he’s not doing anything at all, he’s making her happier than she’d felt in a long time. He makes her happy even when she doesn’t realize that happy’s the one thing she’s been longing for.

“Thank you, Hobi. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” Hoseok stills when she whispers it, never lifting her head from his shoulder. He almost feels like he imagined it. But she’s pulling away from him now, craning her neck so she can find his eyes. He turns to her, too, eyes wide and a breathless laugh of disbelief leaving him.

“But I didn’t do anything…” She smiles then, having known he’d say that.

“You’re perfect as you are. Right next to me like this.” It makes her nervous, saying something like that to his face, but she means it. Because Jung Hoseok never believes he’s enough, even if he hides it well. And she needs him to know that he’s not just enough -- he’s perfect. To her, he’s perfect.

Apparently, saying it so blatantly like that has sent a shock through him, because his eyes are blown wide and his mouth is hanging slightly open. She thinks maybe she’s gone too far, but she can also see that his ears are turning red the longer he looks at her, his cheeks coloring in the same way soon after.

“I-- no one’s ever…” He trails off, nowhere near done with his thought but unable to get the rest of the words out. No one’s ever thought of me as important. The way Y/n’s looking at him, he knows that she’s aware of where his thoughts had gone, that she can see him even when he’s hiding. It’s scary, being vulnerable to someone the way he is right now. But he can’t say he would have it any other way, not if it’s her that’s seeing right through him.

“Y/n… I think… I think I--” I think I have feelings for you. It should have been so easy to say -- he almost has all the words out, he just has to finish saying them. But he can’t. Because he’d already told her the kiss had meant nothing. He’d already told her they could keep going as they are now. That nothing had to change. Because he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of their friendship, not when things between her and her ex were so precarious. He’d been too happy beside her like he is now, and he hadn’t been willing to risk it. But now he wishes he had. And he has no idea, but she wishes he had, too.

Before he can gather the courage to start again -- to say it again, clearly this time -- her phone is buzzing, Yoongi’s face and contact lighting up the screen when she pulls it out of her pocket. Hoseok swallows whatever awkward confession he’d been about to make, watching as Y/n frowns at her phone.

She’d texted him over an hour ago, and when he hadn’t responded right away, she’d just assumed he was in the midst of his usual nighttime business -- there’s no way he could already be done. It’s not even 11pm yet. Lifting the phone to her ear, she answers with confusion.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice is calm, and she can tell he’s aiming to keep it that way, but his breathlessness is coming through the speaker against his will.

“Uh… by Hufflepuff -- why?” She hears him sigh, a huff of irritation that’s somehow also him trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, I came all the way to Gryffindor Tower for nothing? So many fucking stairs--” He cuts off again, and she can hear his feet hitting the ground in quick succession, so she knows he’s running. He keeps talking, but it’s mostly to himself. “Fucking magical moving staircase, never where I need it when I need it most-- your text was really vague. You good?” Y/n blinks, not having expected to be addressed so suddenly.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine--”

“Liar.” Y/n scoffs, not appreciating his tone.

“Then why ask if you already know, hm?” He chuckles deeply, knowing he’s pissed her off.

“I always like to check if you’ll be honest with me when I ask. You never are.”

“Then stop asking!” Hoseok looks to her then, eyebrows hiding behind his fringe as he watches her expression turn to empty rage. She’s annoyed, but it doesn’t seem like it’ll last. In fact, it’s already gone, because at the end of the corridor, Yoongi’s rounding the corner, phone pressed against his ear as he locates her, sitting there on the ground with Hoseok. When she sees him, her face becomes one of surprise, and she’s lowering her phone when he does, sliding the device into his pocket as he approaches them.

He’s only half-dressed, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his sneakers completely untied, the shoelaces dragging across the floor while he walks. How did he not trip on his way here, Hoseok wonders, because that is really an impressive feat in a school as big as Hogwarts. But there are a few things that catch his eye while Yoongi flops down on the ground in front of them and levels Y/n with a hard stare when he finally settles into his spot.

“Why are you guys out here on the cold ass floor?”

“Hobi’s doing flower crowns.”

“That didn’t even come close to answering my question.”

Hoseok doesn’t react to the conversation he’s clearly now a part of, too distracted as his eyes roam the shirtless boy’s form curiously. Because there on Yoongi’s left ribcage is Y/n’s name — not the full thing, just her given name, scribbled in black ink across the expanse of his ribs. Right under his heart. Simple and to the point, much like everything uncomplicated about Min Yoongi, Hoseok’s coming to realize. It’s interesting to him that Yoongi has Y/n’s name tattooed on his body, mostly because he’s wondering how many of Yoongi’s ‘late night visitors’ would have had a problem with it -- just how many times Yoongi’s had to make it clear that he doesn’t care what they think.

The other thing to catch Hoseok’s eye is the necklace that Yoongi wears, a thin silver chain with a simple charm, a black star that sits comfortably between his collarbones. It’s something that otherwise would never have gotten Hoseok’s attention, but he’s seen it before. In fact, he knows that if he’d just turn his head, he’d see its double peeking out from beneath Y/n’s sweater. He thinks that if their bond is this tight, he wouldn’t be surprised to find that Y/n has Yoongi’s name tattooed somewhere on her body, too. It’s a curious thing, their relationship, but he’d said it that day in the forest with her, and he’d meant it. He’s grateful for Yoongi, because he would never have met this version of Y/n without him.

“--checking me out right now, I just know it.”

“He’s not checking you out, dumbass.” Hoseok blinks, coming back to reality at the sound of Y/n’s voice, clear as day. When he looks up from Yoongi’s chest, he finds the boy smirking at him, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“If you’re interested, I am very free tomorrow night.” Hoseok makes a noise of surprise, eyes wide, before he realizes that he’d just been looking Yoongi up and down for at least a full minute. Immediately he’s flushing red because Yoongi’s just propositioned him over a misunderstanding, and the Slytherin is now chuckling at how flustered he is, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Actually, I’m not so sure Y/n would be okay with that -- sorry, Flower Boy. Maybe in another life, when Best Friend Rule 32 doesn’t exist.” Hoseok has no idea what any of the words Yoongi’s just said means, so he’s shaking his head and looking to Y/n for help. She smiles, laying a hand on his shoulder in understanding.

“You’ll have to forgive him -- he reached his sexual awakening way too young in life and now his internal wiring’s a little wonky.” She says it with sarcastic pity, and Yoongi only rolls his eyes before standing.

“Well, I’d love to sit here all night freezing my balls off, but that sounds like something I would definitely not love to do. You gonna be alright here, man? You’re welcome to use Slytherin common room for your flowering if you want.” Hoseok had guessed when Yoongi arrived that he’d come to pick up Y/n, but he hadn’t been expecting the Slytherin to do much more than bid him goodnight. Although warmed by the kindness that Yoongi probably doesn’t even think twice about, he shakes his head with a smile anyway.

“I’m good! I’m just gonna finish this crown and then go to bed — hopefully the party’s dying down a little.” He gestures toward the door to his common room innocently, like he can’t hear the music still blaring loudly even from here. Yoongi raises an eyebrow but nods, reaching out and lifting Y/n to her feet when she takes his hand. He doesn’t let her go, only leading her slowly down the corridor as she turns back to Hoseok.

“Let me know if you get too cold! And make sure you get inside soon, it’s late and you might get sick, and—“

“Oh my God, let the boy live his life, Y/n — you’re not his mom!” Hoseok chuckles when they round the corner, the sounds of their bickering fading into the night.

--

“Weren’t you busy? You’re impossible to get to after the sun goes down, especially when we first get back to school and you have ‘lost time to make up for’ or whatever your crazy logic is.” Yoongi shakes his head with a snicker, pulling her into his bedroom and shutting the door behind them. Jin’s not back yet, and Y/n turns to Yoongi in confusion. He only shrugs.

“Probably with Jimin.” He says nothing more, gesturing to his bed while he slips his shoes off. She does the same, climbing onto the mattress and scooting over to give him room. He’s not telling her something, so she pries because that’s what they do — nothing goes unsaid between them.

“So if you weren’t sleeping with someone…” Yoongi sighs as he turns the light off, making his way to her in the dark.

“I was with Jimin, but we weren’t fucking. My phone died — that’s why I didn’t see your text until I was getting ready for bed, waiting for it to charge.” That explains his state of undress, but it doesn’t explain literally anything else.

“What happened with Jimin? Did you get into a fight or something?” She hears Yoongi snort beside her, and he wiggles an arm under her head so he can be more comfortable.

“Actually, yeah.” Y/n sits up right away, and Yoongi sighs, thinking about how much time he’d just wasted getting his arm under her neck.

“What happened?!” Reaching out, he takes hold of her upper arm, pulling her back down onto the bed.

“Calm down, dork. Nothing’s gonna happen to our group.” She had actually been worried about Yoongi himself, but now that he mentions it, she’s starting to stress about the group dynamic again. Of course something would happen as soon as she and Jungkook resolve their issues.

“He said he didn’t want me coming around just to fuck anymore — that he wasn’t going to be ‘one of many’, whatever that means…” She can see him now that she’s so close to his face, so she catches the way he rolls his eyes in frustration and holds back another sigh. He’s obviously worked up over this, regardless of how he acts.

“But you haven’t been sleeping with anyone else since the first time you slept with Jimin… right?” He’d never actually told her that, and she hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she’d picked up on his behavior since getting back to school — he’d started avoiding making eye contact with people he sleeps with regularly, ignoring texts from numbers he hasn’t saved. It’s all very unlike the Yoongi she knows, so it must be because he’s changing. And it’s confirmed so easily, when he looks into her eyes for a long moment, finally giving an almost imperceptible nod, one that she only picks up on because he’s breaking eye contact, embarrassed.

“Yeah… it’s just Jimin…” She tries so hard to hide her smile, but she fails — this is the first time Yoongi’s ever slept with only one person consistently, if sleeping with Jimin twice could be considered ‘consistent’. She can’t help that she’s a little proud of him.

When he sees the edges of her lips turning up, he rolls his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her away from him until she’s facing the other direction.

“Enough about me. What happened with Jungkook? Did he apologize or do I have to put him in the Hospital Wing?” She turns back around to face him, smiling when he rolls his eyes again, a habit when they’re together.

“He apologized. Said he would work on himself. That he doesn’t want to lose me or the group.” She keeps it short, gives him the cliffnotes because she knows he’ll fill in the gaps himself. And he does, nodding slowly as he looks her over.

“Relieved because you’re free of his demonic badgering — sad because you actually have to cut the cord with him this time?” She purses her lips, finding it interesting that both Hoseok and Yoongi had reached the same conclusion but had delivered their findings in comically different ways. Nodding, she reaches out to play with his piercings while she thinks, fiddling with the rings on his ear just as she has nearly every day since he’d gotten the double helix.

“I’m just happy that things are finally looking up… but yeah, it hurts a little to let go for good. But I’m okay, I promise.” He nods, the piercings slipping from her fingers. She drops her hand to his shoulder with a small sigh, waiting for his response.

“I know you’re okay — you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Suddenly overcome with emotion, Y/n finds herself frowning deeply, her bottom lip starting to quiver just as it had when she’d left Gryffindor. Yoongi sees it, changing the conversation before the waterworks can start.

“Okay, so we talked about Jungkook. Now let’s talk about Hoseok.” Y/n rolls her eyes, shoving at his shoulder this time and forcing him to turn onto his other side.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“I’m just saying, if you’re not going to cuff that man, let me know. Because he really was giving me ‘the eyes’ earlier, if you catch my drift—“

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #jung hoseok #hoseok x reader

[lockley-spktr]

Start With One

Summary: Bucky’s conversation with Sam makes him think of someone who he owes an apology to.

Word count: 2,715 

Warnings: None that I know of. There is some angst if you squint, but this is mostly fluff with the start of friends to lovers.

Author’s note: This is my first time writing for Bucky. I had this idea after I watched TFATWS EP 5 last Friday. It’s been a work in progress since then. Feedback is appreciated!

Every moment that passed by standing in front of your door was agony for Bucky. 

He wasn't sure how’d you react to seeing him after all this time, especially since he had left abruptly without a goodbye or an explanation of where he was going.

Part of him felt like he was overreacting the two of you weren't dating, but you had been friends for nearly a year.

She's your only friend, your best friend. He thought.

Bucky raised his hand to knock on your door one last time, but before he could you opened the door.

When you heard the sound of knocking on your door you ignored it at first, too engrossed in an episode of your TV show. You just figured whoever it was would take the hint and go away, but they didn't. They knocked again, and again, and you realized you couldn't ignore them anymore. 

The last person you expected to see standing in front of you when you swung the door open was Bucky Barnes considering he had been MIA for the past week.

You were angry, he had you worried sick, but when you saw him in front of you alive and well, physically speaking at least, all of those negative feelings momentarily faded away.

Bucky hadn't expected you to embrace him, you could tell by the way he tensed up when you first wrapped your arms around him, but after a moment he relaxed and hugged you back. 

Honestly, you hadn't expected to hug him or for him to hug you back, but you felt a sense of relief knowing he was safe in your arms and that you were safe in his.

When you pull apart Bucky notices your expression change, he should've figured you wouldn't let him off the hook that easy.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asks.

You nod, making your way to the couch, Bucky takes the hint and follows you.

Bucky drops his backpack next to your couch, taking his gloves off as he sits down. You sit down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping a distance between the two of you.

Normally the two of you would practically sit on top of each other, sharing a blanket while you watched a movie or just talked. 

This was different though. This talk wasn't going to be like all the others. 

“It was wrong of me to leave without saying goodbye. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry.” 

“You’re right, you shouldn't have done that, but you're going to have to do a lot better than one I'm sorry.” 

“Doll, I–”

“No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to charm your way out of this one.” 

Bucky shakes his head, “I’m not trying to charm my way out of anything.“

“Then what are you trying to do?”

“Apologize.” 

You scoff, “I told you. You're going to have to do better than one I'm sorry, that won’t fix this.” 

“What can I do to fix this?”

Sighing you run your hand through your hair. You could tell that this was hard for him, you knew how guarded he was, but you thought your relationship was different, Bucky told you everything even the hard stuff. 

You knew about his time as The Winter Soldier and you didn't judge him for it, that wasn't him, you knew that. 

You trusted Bucky and you thought he trusted you, that's why him disappearing and ignoring your calls hurt so much. 

“You can start by explaining a few things to me.”

“Alright, that's fair. I do owe you a few explanations.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Bucky sighs, playing with his hands, “Where do you want me to start?”

You soften a little bit, “Wherever you want to.”

Bucky starts by telling you who he was with and where he was. He spares you the details of exactly what happened. He had a feeling a lot of it would upset you. And the last thing he wanted to do was further upset you.

There were things he couldn't shake that he wanted to tell you about like Zemo practically selling him off; treating him like he wasn't a person, and Ayo removing his arm during their fight, but now wasn't the time for all of that. Bucky wasn't even sure if he was ready to talk about how any of that made him feel. When he was ready, he'd tell you. After all, he had trusted you with everything else so far.

You didn’t have any over-the-top reactions to anything he told you. You knew he could tell you were worried and upset, but you couldn't help it. You care about him. You really care about him. 

You don't say much when he finishes explaining what happened, you just move a little bit closer to him and Bucky feels a wave of relief wash over him. You're still maintaining your distance. He knows he's not out of the woods yet. 

“Why didn't you tell me where you were going? Why didn't you say goodbye?” You ask, your voice sounds so small that it makes Bucky’s heart hurt. 

“I was scared. I didn't know what to tell you, I wanted to protect you.”

You can tell he's telling the truth. It's an innocent enough answer, but it makes your blood boil.

“The truth, you always tell me the truth,” you run your hands through your hair, “I was scared too. I went to go check on you after I saw John on the news with the shield, but you weren't there, then I called you a dozen times, and instead of answering you sent me to voicemail. I care about you. I’ve been worried sick about you for a whole week. By not telling me things and not saying goodbye to me you just made things worse.”

“I’m sorry, I really am,” he pauses, “I’m not used to people caring about me.” 

You move closer to him, “Bucky, I've cared about you since the moment I met you,” taking both his hands in yours you squeeze them, “And I will always care about you.”

Bucky smiles, it's a small one, but it's a genuine one. “I care about you too.” He looks down at your hands in his, “Does this mean we’re okay?”

You nod, “We’re okay, but if you ever disappear on me like that again we won't be, understood?” 

Bucky nods, “Understood.”

You cuddle up against him, “I missed you.”

Bucky relaxes feeling you against him, he moves his hand up and down your arm, “I missed you too.”

“Why'd you bring your backpack with you?”

“You noticed that, huh?”

You chuckle, “Kind of hard not to.”

“I came straight here from the airport. I was with Sam, his sister, and her kids in Louisiana.” 

You look up at him, “Oh, what were you doing there?”

“I went to deliver something from the Wakandans. I ended up staying there for a bit to help out with boat repairs.”

“So you and Sam are friends now?”

“We’re co-workers.”

“You're definitely friends, but okay Bucky, whatever you say.” 

That makes Bucky laugh. Yeah, they were friends now, but he wasn't going to admit that to you or Sam for that matter. 

“Why'd you come straight here from the airport?” 

“Sam and I had a talk. He said something that wasn't about you, but it got me thinking about you. And I told you, I missed you. I wanted to see you.” 

“What did Sam say?” 

“We were talking about my list amends, he told me I was avenging rather than amending–”

You cut him off, “He's right about that.”

“Yes, Doll, I'm aware of that now.”

“As long as you're aware, keep going.” 

“He told me I have to be of service to the people I'm trying to make amends with. I need to make them feel better and bring them closure.” 

“He's also right about that, but how did that get you thinking about me? You didn't wrong me or anyone I know as the Winter Soldier.”

“I know that, but I owed you an apology and clarity about where I ran off to without saying goodbye,” he pauses looking down at you, “And to be fair you were on my mind the whole time I was gone. You're the most important person in my life, you know that, right?”

You nod, “Now I do. And I appreciate your apology. I know that coming here to have an uncomfortable conversation wasn't easy for you. You've come a long way and I'm proud of you.”

Bucky shakes his head, “I haven't come that far.” 

You sit up and face him, “Don't do that.” 

“Don't do what?” 

“Put yourself down like that. You have come a long way. You should give yourself credit for that.”

“Sometimes it doesn't feel like it.”

“Hey, I know that sometimes your thoughts aren't your friends and your brain feels like your own worst enemy, trust me, I do, but those negative thoughts are lying to you,” you hold his hands, “You're a good man Bucky, you deserve to be happy, have moments of calm, and have a good life.”

“Doll, I've done terrible things.”

“That wasn't you, you know that. You didn't have a choice, you weren't in control.”

“But I remember all of them, I have memories of that time of my life.”

“So? That doesn't mean that was you. Bucky, what you experienced was traumatizing. You aren't just going to forget that time of your life even though you weren't the one in control,” pausing you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, “Let me ask you this, do you want to do any of what he did back then now?”

Bucky shakes his head, “No of course not.” 

“You wouldn't do any of that now when you have control of your mind, so that means that isn't who you are. You aren't the Winter Soldier, you're James Bucky Barnes.”

“I don't know who James Bucky Barnes is anymore.”

“Who do you want him to be?”

“What?”

“You’re free to be whoever you want to be now, James Bucky Barnes gets to be whoever you want him to be. You don't have to answer my question out loud, just answer it for yourself, you're the only person who needs to know the answer.”

“Sam told me that I have to stop looking at other people to tell me who I am.”

You smile, “I gotta meet this Sam guy, he seems like he's pretty smart.”

Bucky laughs at that and rolls his eyes.

“He's right though. If you keep looking at others to tell you who you are you won't ever truly know who you are.” 

Bucky sighs, “I know, Doll, I know.”

“Why don't you try going on some more dates? Put yourself out there, Ya know? It might be a good way to meet new people and learn more about yourself in the process.” 

It pained you to say that, but if anybody deserved to be with somebody it was Bucky. Although you couldn't deny that you'd like to be that somebody. The thought of losing him hurt too much, you decided that his friendship was enough, you just wanted to keep him in your life.

Bucky groans, “You know I hate those dating apps.”

You roll your eyes letting out a soft chuckle, “I never said you had to use a dating app. You could just go out and meet someone in public, Ya know like you used to do back in the day?”

“You did not just “back in the day” me.”

“Oh yes, I did.”

“That's a low blow.” 

“Sorry old man, I can't resist sometimes,” you nudge his leg with yours, “Seriously, anyone would be lucky to go on a date with you, I meant what I said earlier, you're a good man.”

Bucky shifts in his spot so he's fully facing you, he holds your hands and brushes his thumb over your knuckles,  just like you did for him moments ago. 

You can tell he wants to say something, he's got that look on his face. You noticed he had shifted in his spot, he had fully opened up to you physically, but still, he wasn't saying anything. 

“What is it, Bucky?”

“Why don't we go on a date?”

Looking at him your eyes go wide, you hadn't been expecting him to say that, “What?”

Your voice was soft, Bucky could tell his question surprised you. In all fairness, it had surprised him too. There had been a few times where he almost asked you out, but he never did. He was always too scared to go through with it.

He didn't want to ruin your friendship, he didn't want to lose you. So Bucky never said anything at all, he always told himself that his friendship with you was enough and it was, but he wanted more. 

The only person Bucky wanted to go on a date with was you.

“Y/N, I like you, I want to take you out on a date.”

The smile on your face reaches your eyes. Bucky swears his heart is about to burst.

“Really? You like me?” You ask in disbelief and Bucky can't help the laugh he lets out at that as he nods, “Yes, really, I like you.” 

Now you're laughing, full of joy as you wrap your arms around him, the position is awkward since the two of you are still seated on the couch, but neither you nor Bucky care.

“I take it that the feeling is mutual?” Bucky asks, his voice is playful, but you can hear the serious tone that's underlying. 

You pull away from him, that smile still on your face, “Yes Bucky, it is.” 

“So you're going to let me take you out on that date?”

“Of course.”

“Where do you want to go?” He asks.

“That's up to you to decide.” You answer snuggling up to his side again, Bucky wraps his arm around you and you feel him relax.

“Why do you want me to decide?” He asks.

“Because you can.“

It's a simple answer, but it holds so much weight. Both of you know that.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while after that. Bucky’s moving his hand up and down your arm. His hand is warm and his touch is soft. 

After a while Bucky breaks the silence, clearing his throat as he looks at his watch, “Doll, it's late. I should go.” 

You look up at him, “You don't have to go. You can stay if you want to.”

Bucky looks down at you, “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah. We can sleep in my bed or we can sleep on the couch, it might be a little bit more firm than my mattress.” 

“I don't think we’ll fit comfortably on the couch. I don't want you to be uncomfortable because of me.”

“Bucky, you could never make me uncomfortable. And the couch pulls out into a bed. The mattress isn't all that great, but it's certainly better than the floor. Although if you wanted me to I would sleep on the floor with you.”

“I know you would but the couch is fine, I promise.”

You get up and extend your hand to him, “Come on, help me set up.”

Bucky doesn't say anything, he just takes your hand with a smile on his face getting up off the couch. 

The two of you have the pull-out bed set up in no time. You go into your room to get pillows, while Bucky makes himself comfortable on the bed. 

A few minutes go by before you make your way back into the living room, putting the pillows on the bed you look down at Bucky, “Do you need anything before I lay down?” 

Bucky shakes his head, “Just need you.”

You laugh shaking your head. There it is, that charm. 

Once you're under the covers you look up at him, “Hold me, please?” 

“‘Course.” 

Bucky rests his chin on your head and wraps his arms around you.

“You’re warm,” you mumble into his chest causing him to chuckle softly, “I’m glad you're here, Bucky.”

“I’m glad I’m here too, Doll.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws spoilers #just tagging that to be safe #i promise this is fluffy even though it's starts off not so fluffy #please let me know what you think of this

[reidamancy]

too late || spencer reid

summary: Spencer and you never got closure after you broke up. But hidden feelings and confessions reveal themselves when you’ve been abducted. Now Spencer is forced to analyze a voicemail you left for him to try and save you before it’s too late. (spencer reid x fem!reader)

category: angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, kidnapping, knife and gun usage, slight mentions of blood and drugs, plot holes, probably incorrect medical info

word count: 4.4k

a/n: this is my very first cm fic, and I’m completely new to the fandom so I hope there are still people out there who read cm fics lol

MASTERLIST

(part one | part two)

Spencer’s POV

“Spencer?” Her voice breathed shakily through the voicemail.

Y/N. I recognized her voice immediately. For a split second I was filled with bliss just from the sound of her voice, but my heart dropped when I recognized the terror laced in her words.

She paused for a bit before continuing. “Hi, it’s me. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear from me right now,” She choked on a sob, but little did she know that was furthest from the truth. “But I didn’t know who else to call.” Another pause. 

I leaned forward in my seat, resting my arms on my desk while listening intently to the message. 

“I... I’m in trouble Spencer. I don’t know who he is. He took me from my car and brought me here. He made me call you because he knows,” She took a deep breath before letting out a sob. “He knows you will never save me in time.” By now, her voice came out as a squeak. My breath caught in my throat as my worst nightmare came true.

“No, Spencer, wait, please listen to me.” I shut my eyes and exhaled. I pinched the bridge of my nose; she must have had to pretended I answered the phone, and I wasn’t there when she needed me most.

She sniffled on the phone and continued.

“I don’t know how much time I have left... So I guess this is goodbye Spencer...” I felt my heart shatter as tears pricked my eyes. 

“When we met, I knew exactly where I was in life. But you, you changed that. You taught me so much, Spencer. I remember all the games we'd play when you were home.” Y/N paused as she left out a sigh. A sad smile crept on my face as I recalled our shared competitive nature and the countless games that sprung from it. I could only imagine her expression mirroring my own as she spoke. “You'd always win but I guess that's what happens when you play against Dr. Reid. I still think you forgot two dozen names just to let me win.” She let out a dry laugh. 

“The last time I saw you was on our anniversary, June 6. 9:30 on the dot. And then you abandoned me Spencer, you left me alone in the big, cold world.” She took a breath and I let out a small gasp when I heard the sound of a gun cocking in the background.

“I told myself I'd never forgive you, but the truth is I already have. I can't leave without you knowing that. Please save me, Spencer.” She whispered the last line before the phone was yanked out of her hands, evident by the small yelp and shuffling I heard, and the voicemail ended with a low growl saying, “You’ll never get here in time.”

The voicemail ended and the fear I felt from before melted into rage. I knew exactly what I had to do. Phone in hand, I marched straight into Hotch’s office.

Reader’s POV

The man snatched the phone out of my hands and quickly hung up on the call before redirecting his gun at me. He had it pointed at me the entire call and cocked it once he was getting impatient.

The worst part was he didn’t bother to hide his face. He had bound my arms and legs together, but never blinded me. I knew exactly where I was and who he was, which only meant one thing: I wasn’t getting out of here alive. 

My abductor shot at the ground and I let out a scream. “That was a bit long now, wasn’t it?” He sneered.

“You’re gonna kill me! I had to say goodbye properly!” I sobbed. 

It was partly true. What he didn’t know, however, was the fact that I had an FBI agent for an ex-boyfriend, and a genius one at that. I haven’t spoken to him in months, but I prayed that he would understand the hidden clues I left in the voicemail. I hated how this was our first interaction since our breakup, but I needed him now more than ever. 

I’ve wanted to call him countless times; it’s almost ironic that it took a literal kidnapping for me to finally do so. In the wake of our breakup, I found myself completely miserable. I missed everything about him, and I caught myself staring at his phone number on my screen numerous times, contemplating if I should actually call him or not. I wanted to, I really wanted to. I wanted to tell him how much I missed his voice, his touch, his love. But every happy memory we had would then be overshadowed by stronger memories of him snapping at me, being repulsed by my touch, and his mood swings. So I never got the courage to push the dial button. 

It was a never ending cycle. I’d want to call him; perhaps I wanted to try to fix things one more time. I knew something was wrong, maybe I could have done more to help him. But then I would realize I couldn’t help him unless he let me. So I’d always end up deleting the digits on my screen and hope he was doing okay. But days later I’d find myself punching in those exact digits once again, only to delete them minutes later. In time, I had memorized his number by heart, which is why it was almost instinctive to dial him today.

The fact that he was an FBI agent was the last thing on my mind when I pushed call. I just needed him, I needed Spencer. It felt wrong, after months without speaking I thought we had both moved on. But he was the first person I thought of when given an instrument to cry for help. And as soon as I heard his voicemail, as soon as I heard his voice, I realized I needed more than Dr. Reid. I needed Special Agent Reid.

I tried to remember everything I could from the few times Spencer would talk to me about his cases. If I could understand this unsub like he and his team could, maybe I could survive. But the more I remembered, the quicker I realized my chances of survival were slim. He’s way too confident for me to have been his first victim. He gave me the freedom to call whoever I wanted and say whatever I wanted, and he wouldn’t have done that if he knew he wouldn’t get caught. So the phone call must be part of his signature, but why? Why give that much freedom to his victims at all? Maybe he just likes to hear the pain in our voices when we say goodbye.

No, it has to be more than that. Right before I dialed Spencer, the man told me, “Make sure they answer.” And that’s when it hit me. He must take pleasure in knowing his victim’s loved ones are aware of what’s happening but can’t save them. He’s stripping them of their power to help, to save, their loved ones. I hope that isn’t the case for me. I didn’t want to call Spencer (okay, maybe deep down in my heart, I did), because he made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with me. But if anyone could save me, it was Spencer Reid.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when my abductor leaned in front of me, his putrid breath fanning over my face. I noticed his gun was now in his holster and one of his hands was behind his back. He slowly pulled it out to reveal a knife and he placed the blade against my arm. I winced as he put pressure against my skin, but not enough to draw blood.

“Now that... what was his name? Spencer?” He let out a low chuckle. “Now that Spencer knows you’re here, he’ll try to save you.” The unsub slowly dragged the knife up my arm, still not breaking the skin, and I let out a whimper. 

“He’ll tell the police, but they’ll be too late.” He taunted. “They always are.”

The man now used his knife to push hair out of my face. “While we wait... Let’s have some fun.” He sunk the knife into my shoulder and I let out a scream.

Spencer’s POV

As the case was presented to the team, I was paralyzed in my seat with the voicemail replaying over and over again in my head.

It’s me. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear from me right now.

I’ve been wanting to hear her voice for months, and when I finally do it’s because she was abducted. Even worse, she’s apologetic that she even has to call me. As if she’d ever have to apologize for speaking to me... 

“Reid?” Hotch’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I looked up at him and he repeated himself. “Will you analyze the voicemail for clues on Y/N’s location?”

I silently nodded. He turned to JJ and whispered to her to stay with me. Everyone then dispersed to do everything they could to bring Y/N back.

“Kid, who is this?” Morgan stayed behind and questioned me.

“Hm?” I questioned innocently. 

“Look, she could have called anyone in the world, but she called you. And you obviously care for her or else you wouldn’t be so quiet right now. So who is she?” Derek displayed concern in his eyes.

I let out a sigh. JJ took a seat in front of me and Morgan leaned against the table. My eyes were fixated on my hands, which were in my lap. “Her name’s Y/N. She was the one who got away.” I heard my voice crack, but I didn’t care. JJ and Morgan looked at me with sorrow as they listened to me open up about the love of my life. 

“I met her at the library. She saw I was checking out a book about physics and she gushed about how it was her favorite subject. We went on for 20 minutes talking about the subject, and then she asked me out for coffee.” I bit my lip.

“We started dating for a few months and everything was perfect. She didn’t mind my work schedule, and she listened to all my rambles. Sometimes she even had some facts of her own to add.” I recalled all the times Y/N would add to my fact spews instead of shutting me down, and I couldn’t stop the smile resulted from the memories. “She was perfect. In every way.”

I took a deep breath as my love story took a sour turn. “But then I... I started to push her away. After Tobias Hankel I pushed everyone away, but Y/N got it the worst. I was a horrible boyfriend, but she never gave up on me. She never knew why I was acting that way, but eventually I pushed her too far. We broke up because she thought I hated her. But I don’t. I never did.” I trailed off, remembering fragments of the last fight we had. I cringed as I remembered how broken her voice was, and how I continued to tear her down. I wasn’t in my right mind. If I could go back, I’d never let her leave that door. But in hindsight, I don’t blame her for leaving.

I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks as Morgan rubbed my shoulder. JJ got up and hugged me. She lowered her face towards me and said, “We’re gonna save her, Spence. And when we do, you’re gonna tell her all of this.” She flashed me a kind smile.

“After I got off dilaudid, I realized I lost her, so I tried to get her back. I wanted to surprise her, so I went to the cafe we went to the day we met, and I saw her there. She was there with another guy... She had already moved on and I was too late. I never got to apologize to her.”

I didn't want to meddle in Y/N's new relationship. She had every right to move on. So I tried to as well. But it didn't hurt any less, especially since I never got to explain myself to her. I had accepted the fact that Y/N had moved on from me, but her voicemail gave me an ounce of hope. In the direst of circumstances I was the one she called. Perhaps it was because of my job, but I let myself hope that maybe I misread the situation. That man could have been a friend. And I could still have a chance.

But hope is a dangerous thing.

“Reid, I know this is hard. We all want to get Y/N back safe, but you’re the only one who can understand what she’s trying to tell us here. Think you can focus?” Morgan wanted to make sure my head was clear enough to analyze Y/N’s message. The truth was, I wasn’t sure.

But I nodded and played the voicemail again.

“June 6?” I repeated once the voicemail ended.

“Is that when the two of you met?” Morgan asked.

“No, that date doesn’t have any significance to us at all. June 6, 9:30? Why would she say that?” I wondered out loud as I wrote 6/6, 9:30 on the board. 

“Can you play it again?” I asked JJ.

When we met, I knew exactly where I was in life. 

“There right there, pause.” I knew that was a lie. “When we met, she was a graduate student but she didn’t know what to study. I helped her with that.”

“Okay, so she knows you can catch onto her lies. What is she trying to tell us?” JJ wondered out loud.

It was then that I realized what Y/N was doing. “This entire call is full of lies. She knew I’d catch onto them, but I don’t know what she’s saying.” 

Morgan jumped in, “Okay, so if you catch all of her lies, we’ll decode the message.” I nodded as JJ pressed play and I wrote down all the lies in the voicemail.

By the end of the call, my board looked like this:

6/6, 9:30

“knew where I was in life”

winning game - 2 dozen names?

“Okay, so what does this all mean, Reid?” Morgan asked. 

I stared at the board, trying to make a connection. “I don’t know...” I mumbled. I knew Y/N was trying to tell me something, and if I could figure it out I could save her. The thought gave me enough confidence to analyze her diction. “But did you hear the end of the call? She said I left her alone in the ‘big, cold world.’ It’s odd that she would describe it like that.”

“So she’s somewhere big and cold?” JJ chimed in.

“Probably...” I answered as I added to the board. 

“What about abandoned? Is that describing where she is or is this actually about your relationship?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t think she would use 'abandoned' to describe our relationship...” I bit my lip. I wouldn’t say I abandoned her, but I couldn’t help but wonder if that was how she actually felt. I cleared my throat. “That’s probably where she is. Big, cold, and abandoned.” 

“So what are we thinking, warehouse?” JJ inputted. 

Morgan nodded. “Okay, we’re getting somewhere. So does that mean when she said she knew exactly where she was in life, she meant she actually knew exactly where she was taken?”

“What about the game she talked about? What does that mean?” JJ asked.

“I never let her win any games, she insisted we both play fair and square.” I tried to think back to all the games we played. “She mentioned names... There was only one where we used names,” I held back a smile. “We were trying to see who would be the first to name all the U.S. presidents.”

Morgan and JJ looked at each other. “Why am I not surprised.” Morgan let out a small chuckle.

“But you forgot two dozen names?” JJ questioned.

“Two dozen is specific... and Reid doesn’t forget.” Morgan thought out loud.

I tried to remember more about the game. “I won that game. I was the first to put down my pencil and she teased me for it. But she wanted to finish her list so I’d give her clues to who she forgot... But there was one name she just couldn’t remember.”

“Two dozen... Did it happen to be the 24th president?” JJ wondered.

I let out a small smile. Clever girl. “Yeah, it was Grover Cleveland. The 24th president.”

I now looked at my new board, filled with new information.

6/6, 9:30

“knew where I was in life” am

winning game - 2 dozen names? ➝ Cleveland!

big, cold

abandoned

warehouse?

My head was swirling, trying to make sense of what Y/N gave me. My eyes darted up and down the board, trying to see her message. She knew where she was. She gave me a name, numbers...

“I got it!” I yelled. “It’s an address. She knew exactly where she was and she was trying to tell us! June 6, 9:30? 66930. Where’s Garcia? I bet there’s an abandoned building at 66930 Cleveland Street.”

Morgan raced out of the room to grab Garcia. Moments later she rushed into the room with her laptop and I hurriedly asked her, “Garcia, what is at 66930 Cleveland Street?”

Her fingers blazed across the keyboard then she shook her head. “No, I can’t find that address.”

JJ leaned towards the monitor. “Try Cleveland Road?”

Garcia shook her head once again, “Sorry my sweets, there’s no 66930 Cleveland Road either.”

She continued to clack at her keyboard, and moments later she lit up and said, “Wait, I see an abandoned warehouse at 6693 Cleveland Road!”

“It was probably easier for Y/N to use time to disguise the numbers, even if it added another digit...” I thought out loud.

Morgan rushed over to her computer as I felt my body fill up with hope. “What can you tell us about it, baby girl?” He asked.

“It was previously owned by a man named Hubert Roffkins, but then the trail ends 2 months ago. It looks like it was abandoned then, and oh dear.”

“What is it?” Morgan pushed.

“Hotch asked me to look into similar abductions with phone calls ending with murder.”

I swallowed harshly. “And?” I asked.

“The dates coincide with the first kidnapping.”

“Let’s go.” Morgan commanded.

Third Person POV

Hubert Roffkins had stabbed Y/N for the seventh time by the time the FBI got to the scene. He was cornered and surrounded by agents, he knew there was no way out of this. As he reached for his gun, Agent Hotchner fired a single shot to the head and Roffkins was dead before he hit the ground. 

Y/N was still conscious when the agents came. She was surrounded by her own blood and dizzy with pain, but she knew once she saw those FBI vests, she’d be okay. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she heard a gunshot and saw a pair of converse running towards her. Her vision was blurring, but she didn’t need it to identify the figure who picked her up off the ground and held her face. He kept telling her to stay with him, but she couldn’t hear him. Her vision focused on his face for one second and she smiled at the familiar face. “Spencer,” she whispered, so faint he could barely hear her.

“I’m here, Y/N, I’m here.” He cried, holding her closer to him.

Her vision blurred once more and she let the darkness succumb her.

Spencer rode in the ambulance with her, and he would not let go of her hand the entire way to the hospital. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, wondering what could have been if he’d arrived just a few moments earlier. 

Once in the hospital, it took an army of nurses to separate Spencer from Y/N. He couldn’t let her out of his sight, too scared of losing her again. So he settled on sitting outside her room while the doctors operated on her. 

The rest of the BAU team met him at the hospital. They exchanged glances and sighs, unable to help their youngest teammate. No matter how they tried to comfort him, his mind was fixated on the well-being of his lost love.

The doctor emerged from Y/N’s room and Spencer immediately sat up.

“Her vitals are stable and he missed the major organs. She will be incredibly sore, but she’s gonna make it.” The doctor announced.

Spencer smiled. “Can I see her?” He asked.

The doctor nodded, warning him that she was still sleeping and she will be very tired.

Spencer walked into the room and sighed. He hated seeing her like this. She was pale, and she looked so fragile. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and hold her forever. 

He took a seat next to her bed and grabbed her hand. His thumb traced small circles on the back of her hand while he studied her face. Finally, after months of being apart, he was finally here with her. He was both relieved and terrified, knowing that once she woke up, she would have his entire heart in her hands. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, his voice coming out broken. He cleared his throat and continued. 

“I uh, I got your voicemail.” His voice cracked and he let out a sad smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But you did so good. I understood, Y/N. I remembered everything.” His voice cracked and tears were welling up in his eyes, but he continued. “You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.” His voice was now barely above a whisper. 

Spencer stopped for a moment to compose himself. It was the moment he had been waiting for. Y/N was right in front of him and all of his emotions were overwhelming. He had to tell her right now. Even if she couldn’t hear him; he needed the practice. Because the words have been bottled up for so long, and now that she was right in front of him, he felt like he was going to burst. But he just didn’t know where to start. 

“Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I really need to tell you something, and I can’t wait any longer.” Spencer let out a sigh and stared at her hand in his. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for months, and I-I need to let the words out before I lose my confidence.” Spencer swallowed thickly. “Or I don’t know, maybe you can hear me. Studies have shown that...” He trailed off. He was rambling.

Spencer let out a deep sigh and brought his eyes back to Y/N’s face. “Y/N... You were the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I can’t believe I let you go.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “You were right, you know. Something did happen to me on a case. But I didn’t want to bring you into the evil that corrupts my world, so I kept you in the dark. But then it got out of hand... It became less about shielding you and more about protecting myself.” Spencer licked his lips and lowered his eyes again. He felt ashamed. Had it not been for his own pride, perhaps Y/N would still be in his life. Maybe he could have even prevented this. But he let out a shaky breath and continued.

“I was abducted and tortured by a man named Tobias Hankel. He had multiple personalities. So when he wasn’t torturing me, he was giving me painkillers. It was dilaudid.” Spencer shook his head as the memories of his abduction came back to him. 

“I... I became addicted, Y/N. I knew I needed help. But I wanted to prove I was strong. I wanted to prove that I could bounce back and show that I could handle it. But I couldn’t.” By now, the young doctor was crying. He continued through his sobs. “I guess I... I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it on my own, so I pushed everyone away, Y/N. Not just you. And I know that doesn’t make it better, but you were never the problem, Y/N. It was me.”

Spencer looked at Y/N’s face and rubbed circles on her hand. “I know there’s no way you could have known that, but I don’t want you blaming yourself for what happened between us. And I know what you would say if you were awake right now. I know what I did was wrong. I realized that you would never see me as weak for this, but in that moment I've never felt so weak. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Hot tears streamed down the Spencer’s face as he continued. “I’ve been sober for half a year now. I’ve been sober ever since we broke up. And I know drugs don’t excuse how I acted towards you, but I just needed you to know,” Spencer held onto Y/N’s hand tighter. “I never stopped loving you.”

As the young doctor spilled his heart out to his love, the words he spoke never reached their recipient. Y/N laid in deep slumber, unaware of Spencer’s confession as he sat next to her. She would stay in her comatose-like condition until the next day, never to hear the truth behind the end of her and Spencer’s relationship.

Because when Y/N awoke, Spencer had gone to get his morning cup of coffee from the hospital’s cafeteria. He had spent the entire night sleeping by her side, desperate to be the first person she saw when she woke up. By the time he returned, fits of giggles were emerging from Y/N’s room.

Spencer’s heart fluttered as he heard her laughter echo in his ears. She was finally awake, and he could finally get his confession off his conscience. All he had to do was repeat the words he had said the night before, this time to active ears.

But the words were caught in his throat once more, because when Spencer entered Y/N’s room, he was met with two sets of eyes instead of one. Y/N had lit up and exclaimed, “There’s the man who saved my life!” Her excitement and smile still brought butterflies to Spencer’s stomach. But they quickly disappeared when she spoke her next sentence, confirming Spencer’s fears. 

“Spencer, I want you to meet Connor. My boyfriend.” She gestured to the man sitting next to her. Spencer had recognized him immediately, he was the man he saw Y/N with at the cafe.

Spencer’s stomach dropped and his heart broke once again. 

He was too late.

---

read part two here!

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #bau #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #pbrfics #myfics

[sbtlns]

Home, part nine

Warnings: NSFW, smut

A/N: this is the final part of this series! this is set at the same time as 9x09. I hope everyone had a great holiday season and wish everyone a very happy new year!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven Part Eight 

As the smoke cleared and the persistent whine of the fire trucks’ sirens finally stopped, Castiel absentmindedly thanked the firefighters, looking beyond them to your trembling form crumpled on what was left of your front stoop. The trucks drove off as he made his way to you, unsure of how to begin to comfort you. His shoes came into your line of vision and you sniffled, wiping a stray tear away as you lifted your head to meet his apologetic stare. You saw the sympathy and inexplicable guilt swirling behind his brilliant blues, and gave him a small smile, prompting him to hold his arms open, eager to hold and comfort you.

You let out a shaky chuckle, standing to gratefully melt into his embrace. Strong hands gripped you tighter to his chest and rubbed up and down your back, engulfing you in his warmth. “You know, it’s funny,” you said after a moment, pulling away just enough to look up at him. Castiel gave you a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow to prompt you to elaborate. “It’s like I’m finally getting the closure I didn’t know I needed. I’m-” you paused, searching for the right word. “I’m almost relieved. It’s like a fucked up ending to a fucked up chapter of my life,” you explained, glancing up at Castiel, whose expression softens at your words. 

“I’ve always admired your tenacity, the steadfast determination you have to create a silver lining out of utter devastation,” he murmured into your hair, holding you closer. You stay like that for a while, finding comfort within each other’s embrace before you finally wriggle out of his hold. 

“We can go apartment hunting tomorrow, the realtors are probably closed by now and besides, I don’t think I have it in me to look at any tonight,” you sighed, reaching for your phone to check the time. When you glanced back up, you’re met with a knowing look. Furrowing your brows, you stood a little straighter, unsure of what Cas could be getting at. “What?”

Cas looked back at you and sighed. “I think it’s time to call Dean, Y/N,” he said gently. You bristled at the thought. 

“Yeah and what? Beg him to let us back in the bunker? I don’t think so,” you scoffed, not believing the incredulous suggestion from the former angel. You turned on your heel, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“Y/N,” he said softly, putting his hand on your shoulder to stop you from walking away from him. You sighed, releasing your tensed muscles. Deep down you knew he was right but you didn’t want to admit it. You knew that you couldn’t keep giving Dean the silent treatment, declining his calls and not responding to the numerous texts he’d sent you since you left. 

“I know,” you said finally, turning around to face him. “I know,” you repeated. “But,” you started, smoothing the wrinkles from the front of his flannel, “We’re gonna have some fun first.” Castiel catches the glimmer of mischief in your eyes before you shift to your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

Castiel sat anxiously in the car as you drove the two of you to the old dive bar in town. He wasn’t too keen on social interactions, as he’d stated before that his “people skills” were “rusty”. However, after shooting you a quick glance and seeing you smile while humming whatever song was currently playing, he felt himself smile and relax a bit. Soon enough, you pulled the truck into the lot and hopped out. Taking a deep breath, he followed suit. 

Castiel followed closely behind you as you made your way through the establishment and into an empty booth. He sat down and shrunk into the vinyl, suddenly overwhelmed at the sound of music blaring from the jukebox and dozens of people talking loudly over the music. He flinched as two bikers barreled past the booth and again at the sound of glasses clinking at the bar. 

“Hey, angel, relax” you cooed, taking his hand from across the booth. His wide eyes found yours and you watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest start to slow. You flipped his hand over in yours, lightly tracing the lines of his palm, further soothing your overwhelmed lover. A pang of guilt suddenly washed over you as you remembered how apprehensive he is in places like this. You looked back up at him and gave him a soft smile. 

“We don’t have to stay,” you murmured only loud enough for him to hear. “We can leave whenever you want,” you said, giving him an earnest look. His features softened even further and his tensed shoulders slowly relaxed. He gave you a sheepish smile. “No, I want to stay. It was just...overwhelming at first,” he assured you, tightening his fingers over yours. 

You opened your mouth to speak again when suddenly you heard a high pitched squeal followed by your name. You tensed and whipped around as a familiar face came bounding towards the booth. “Liz?” you blurted out, somewhere between a question and an exclamation. You sprang out of the booth in time for her to throw her arms around you, the momentum almost sending the both of you to the floor. You pulled away beaming at each other with I can’t believe its and is it really yous falling from your mouths. You watched her eyes glance from yours to Castiel’s and back, quirking up an eyebrow. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Cas this is Liz, we went to school together. Liz this is Cas, my-” you cut yourself off, suddenly self conscious and acutely aware at the fact that neither of you had taken the liberty to label your relationship. Castiel glanced between you and your friend, settled his gaze on Liz, and extended his hand.

“Boyfriend,” he finished for you proudly. Your heart leapt in your chest and you beamed at him. Liz accepted his hand and shook it. 

“Cas, huh. Is that short for something?” she inquired, taking back her hand. 

“Castiel,” he clarified. Her brows furrowed, wheels turning in her mind, before they shot up. 

“Castiel” she repeated gleefully, turning to you with a smile. “Like one of the angels we read about in theology!” she exclaimed. At this unexpected revelation, Castiel’s brow furrowed as he shot you a questioning glance. You felt your cheeks burn, refusing to meet his stare. You opened your mouth to try and backpedal from the subject but she kept going. 

“You know,” she said, turning to a very confused Castiel. “Castiel was probably my favorite angel to learn about. Angel of Thursday, right?” she asked turning back to you. You gave her a stiff nod, still not daring to look over to your former angel. “I always thought the translation of his name was fitting, shield of God, you know, seeing as he was probably heaven’s greatest warrior.” She continued singing the angel’s praises, not noticing the soft blush creeping up his face, nor the well of tears threatening to spill over his lashes as he stared at the two of you with an awe-like wonder. 

She abruptly cut herself off, chuckling, and put a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve blabbed on enough. It was really nice seeing you, Y/N. Text me and we can catch up more!” She gave you one last hug before disappearing back into the crowd. You stayed facing the direction she ran off in, feeling the former angel’s stare burning into you and unwilling to turn to meet it. 

“Y/N,” you heard him say in a strained voice from behind you. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him, careful to avert his gaze. “Look at me...please,” he implored softly. Mustering whatever courage you could scrounge up, your eyes slowly lifted to his. His brows were softly furrowed with a whole range of emotions swirling behind his wet eyes. You were surprised to see he wasn’t angry as you had anticipated. Instead, he looked at you in a mix of adoration and confusion. His upper lip twitched as he struggled to form a coherent sentence for you, his mind racing and crowded with too many thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally settled on. You bit your lip trying to find the right words. 

“Well, to be fair, you were kind of terrifying when I first met you,” you admitted sheepishly. His eyebrows rose slightly and the corners of his lips tugged upward. He closed the distance between you, placing his hands softly on your hips, tugging you even closer.

“You thought I was terrifying, hm?” his voice now several octaves lower than usual. You gulped, becoming increasingly aware of the heat pooling between your thighs. Castiel smirked, enjoying his obvious effect on you. He hummed, watching you struggle to form a response to him, eyes darkening with lust. Castiel leaned down, breath ghosting your ear and hands tightening their grip on your hips. “I’d like to test that theory, if you wouldn’t mind,” his words like velvet, contributing to your intoxicating arousal. 

He released his grip on your hips, took a step back from you and looked around the bar, feigning disinterest to mask his lust blown eyes. “Unless of course you would like to stay,” he said smugly. 

“No!” you croaked out, cursing yourself for sounding so desperate. Castiel’s smirk grew at your sudden outburst. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure. “I mean, that’s okay, the beer here is crap anyway,” you said cooly. Castiel narrowed his eyes at you, seeing through your obvious attempt to hide your eagerness. Luckily for you, he was feeling merciful. He tilted his head at the door. “Shall we then?” he proposed, taking a step towards the door. You practically tripped over your own feet trying to follow him out.

The two of you got back into the car and you pulled out your phone to get directions to the nearest motel, cursing under your breath when you realized the closest one was still a 20 minute drive. Sighing, you turned the key in the ignition and started your drive to the motel. Castiel’s ears perked at the sound and placed a calming hand just above your knee, giving you a comforting squeeze. You caught his meaning, be patient. 

About 10 minutes into the drive, his hand made its way up your thigh tantalizingly slow before making its way back down to your knee. You gripped the wheel tighter, trying not to focus on your growing arousal. On the next upwards stroke, Castiel shifted his hand to the inside of your thigh before bringing it back to your knee, causing you to jerk the wheel slightly. Castiel let out a light chuckle, continuing his ministrations. On this pass, the tips of his fingers barely brushed past the apex of your thighs. You let out a sharp sigh, shooting him a quick look of annoyance. “Cas,” you said in a mock warning, but he saw past it. 

“Hmm?” he hummed, bring his hand back up to your clothed sex, lightly tracing everywhere but where you wanted him most. Castiel enjoyed watching you squirm, trying to focus on the road in front you you while also desperately wanting to chase your release. He could only imagine how soaked you must be at this point, the thought contributing to his own growing arousal. He could feel his pants tightening and looked down at the bulge steadily growing. Swallowing a growl, he returned his attention to teasing you, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his hardening member.

“Cas,” you gasped, slightly panting at this point. He looked up to see your knuckles gripping the wheel, brows tilted up and gaze still locked on the road. “Please,” you said in a strained whispered. He hummed again, lowering his hand back down to your thigh, the opposite of what you were asking. An involuntary whimper escaped your lips and you shot him a quick confused glance. He stared straight ahead with a smug smile on his face. “Patience,” is all he said.

The remaining three minutes to the hotel were torture. As soon as you pulled into the lot, you yanked the door open and struggled to keep yourself from running to the front desk. Castiel gave you an amused smile and followed you into the lobby. 

“Single, please,” you said as you thrust your card toward the woman at the desk. She quirked up an eyebrow glanced between you and Castiel, smiled to herself, and checked you into a room. You took the key from her and quickly found your way to your room. Upon entering, Castiel closed and locked the door behind him before turning to you with an almost predatory look. 

“Strip,” he commanded firmly. Your eyes widened at his sudden dominance and your fingers began blindly ridding you of your clothing. He watched you undress with lust blown eyes, savoring every inch of your body. “On the bed,” he instructed as the last article of clothing left your body. You vehemently nodded and scrambled to the bed, waiting for his next instruction. He shrugged out of his flannel and tshirt, slowly undoing the buckle of his jeans as you licked your lips in anticipation. Stepping out of his jeans he made his way over to the bed and crawled over you. You gasped as his cock brushed against your center as he made his way up to kiss your neck. Supporting himself on one elbow, his free hand roamed down you body to cup your aching heat. A moan slipped past your lips as he ran a finger through your soaked folds.

“My poor honeybee,” he cooed in your ear. “Absolutely dripping for me, hm?” he just barely grazed your clit, and you moaned again, bucking your hips fruitlessly. The coil in your belly was overwhelming, every nerve in your body already on fire from pure need and his teasing. He grazed your clit again, eliciting a choked sob from your trembling body. “You’ve waited this long, honeybee, what’s a little while longer,” he teased in a honeyed voice. The thought of waiting one more second set your heart racing. 

“Cas- please..not tonight...need you now. Please,” you strained, palming him through his boxers. With a grunt, he obliged, peeling himself off of you to rid himself of the last article of clothing separating the two of you. He chucked them into the corner of the room and crawled back up to you, catching your lips in a deep kiss. Your tongue swept his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He happily granted it, deepening the kiss and gently rocking his length against your pussy. 

You reached between you to line him up with your entrance and rocked your hips up, imploring him to sink down. Castiel slowly lowered himself into you, breaking the kiss to choke out, “is this alright?” before continuing. 

“Nngh Cas yes,” you moaned. “Please move,” you begged rocking your hips again. Castiel slowly pulled himself out of you before snapping his hips back in. A surprised moan left your lips as pleasure shot through you. He continued this, grunting and panting against your neck. His body twitched with restraint and you pulled him down into a kiss before releasing him and whispering, “let go, angel.”

His eyes widened and lifted his eyebrows, silently asking are you sure? In response you smiled and looked up at him through your lashes before wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you. His hips faltered for a moment before he lowered his head and began snapping his hips against you faster. A string of moans fell from your lips as he murmured praises in broken Enochian. 

“Y/N,” he panted, “I’m-” he strained. You brushed the hair out of his eyes and raked your nails through his hair.

“It’s okay Cas, me too, just-” a surprised moan cut you off as he wedged a hand between your bodies to begin tracing rough circles on your clit. The added stimulation was enough to push you over the edge, waves of pleasure washing over your body. Feeling you clench around him was enough to send Castiel over with you, both panting as he sloppily thrusted inside of you to coax the two of you through your climax. Once he regained the ability to move consciously, he slipped out of you with a grunt and collapsed beside you. 

The two of you laid there panting for a moment in post orgasmic bliss before he drew you close to him, your head resting against his chest and your body melting against his. “I love you, my honeybee,” he murmured into your hair. “I love you too, angel,” you sighed contentedly, before drifting into a peaceful slumber.

You woke up the rays of sunshine aimed directly toward your eyes through the blinds of the motel’s window. You grumbled, tucking your face closer against Castiel, using him as a shield against the rays. He chuckled at your grumpy state, weaving his hands through your hair to soothe you. You hummed contentedly at the welcomed contact, snuggling closer to him.

“As much as I would enjoy laying with you like this all day, my love,” he placed a kiss to your temple. “We need to inform the Winchesters of our situation,” he said gently, knowing it would only add to your morning grumpiness. As he predicted you groaned against him. He let out a light chuckle, gently detangling your limbs so he could get up. You groaned again at the loss of contact, moving to sit up straight and pushing stray strands of hair from your face. You watched as he gathered his clothes and made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

You sighed as you rolled over and picked up your phone, squinting at the harsh light. You scrolled through your contact list, finger hesitating over Dean’s name but instead scrolling past to get to Sam’s. You didn’t want to give Dean the satisfaction of hearing you ask to come back home. Jaw set, you clicked on Sam’s name and listened to the dial tones until you reached his voicemail. You furrowed your brows and checked the time, 8:30, you thought, Sam is definitely back from his morning jog by now..what gives?

You begrudgingly scrolled back up to Dean’s name and clicked on it with a huff. He picked up on the second ring and spoke before you could even greet him. 

“Come home,” he said in a weak, hollow voice. You felt your stomach tighten at his tone.

“Dean-” you started but he cut you off.

“Please. Come home. Bring Cas too. I...just-please” he said strained. Your heart sank with worry. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, desperate to know what could’ve possibly happened to flip the tables and make him beg you to come home. He was silent for a moment.

“Something happened,” he choked out. “I just,” his voice cracking. “I just need you both to come home. Please.”

“We’re on our way.”

~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @antoniamarie1989-blog @transparentfestivaltiger @tinymalscoffee @dark-as-love 

#castiel #castiel fanfiction #cas #castiel x reader #castiel x reader smut #castiel smut #human!cas #human!castiel x reader #supenatural #supernatural fic

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 14)

Title: Forgiveness is Not so Easy (the void will protect those shunned)

Summary: Phil and Techno are at the house. Ranboo isn't sure he likes it, but he's got his family to support him.

(Death is mad at Phil. He doesn't know it. Once she's done with something, she'll chew him out.)

Part One

Part 15

Masterlist

_________

Ranboo wished he was stronger. He wished he could put the past behind him and move on, but something held him back. Something looked him in the eyes and told him that he could not grow without closure, but even closure was too much to bear.

When he had looked over to the door and saw not only Technoblade but also Philza, leaning and eyes glassy, his first feeling was terror. It was an act- they had come here to kill him-

But his second thought was maybe they were here to kill Tommy. Or Sam. Or any of the family that had actually cared about him when he was at his lowest. Maybe Tubbo, Fundy, Purpled, maybe they wanted a way to Puffy. Because they hadn’t ever cared about him, so why would they now? Why would they have hunted him down? No, the world and the ones he used to live with both united in that they had left him behind, so it wasn’t Ranboo who was in trouble, it was his family.

When Sam had ushered Technoblade and Philza into the medical room, Ranboo let out a deep breath. “C’mon guys. Let’s go to our room.”

Tommy had taken one look at his wide eyes and agreed, as if he hadn’t just seen his father bleeding out over the man who’d once told him to die like a hero. “Yeah, let’s give them some space.”

They all ended up asleep, though he was sure that someone had gotten up, but Ranboo’s dreams were not kind. Had they ever been? Had he ever known compassion from something as simple as his own mind?

His dreams were plagued with heartache and pain, as his life had been, and though he was no stranger to it, he did not want it. He never wanted it, but no one ever cared about his opinions before he found this family.

Ranboo woke up gasping. He had already forgotten what the nightmares were about, but the adrenaline still pumped through his veins as he tried to calm down.

“You got ‘em, too?” Tommy whispered, from somewhere among the mass of blankets.

Ranboo swallowed. “Yeah.” His voice sounded hoarse. At least he hadn’t been crying. Had he? “Just memories. I think.”

Tommy shifted in the covers. “I know that you don’t like them. I have issues too, but… is it so much to hope that they feel sorry? I just want.. I know it’s selfish but I want them back. I have this family, but losing them… losing them still hurts.”

“I can understand that.” Ranboo said. “I think it all depends on what they do now, since we’re close together and can’t really avoid each other. It depends on how they act.”

Tommy hummed. “I hope they feel sorry.”

“If they don’t feel sorry now, after all they’ve done,” Ranboo whispered, “then they never will.”

“Yeah.” Tommy said, but he didn’t elaborate. They stayed in silence until weak beams of light began to shine through their window, and then even longer, until there was a soft knocking on the door.

It opened, and Sam stood there. “Ranboo? Tommy? Are you awake?”

“We sure are, big man.” Tommy said, and though his eyes were tired, his wings twitched. “What do you need?”

Sam hesitated. “Uh, Phil’s awake. He and Techno want to talk with you guys. You don’t have to, of course…”

Tommy’s wings drooped a little. “I guess. Will you be there?”

“If you want me to.” Sam said softly. “Or if you need space, I’ll just be outside the door.”

Ranboo thought about all that had happened. “You might… you might want to be further than that. If they want to apologise, and they mention what they’ve done… I’m not sure they’d get out of here alive.”

Sam huffed. “I’m well aware that they haven’t been great people, but if they want to apologise, then I’ll let them. You deserve to hear their apology.”

“Thanks, dad.” Tommy smiled lightly. “Do they want to talk now?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Sam nodded, but Ranboo knew that he couldn’t keep them waiting. Not when Technoblade already had a short temper.

Ranboo clambered over the slumbering bodies of his family to get to the door. “Where’s Purpled? And Punz?”

“They chatted with Phil about what they were. I left a while ago, but Punz came up to me and said they wanted to talk to you guys. Purpled’s trying to sleep on the couch now.”

Ranboo wondered what their hybrid parts were, but he knew he’d find out eventually. “Alright.”

On the way to the medical room, they did pass Purpled on the couch, wings draped awkwardly over the edges. It didn’t look comfortable, and he grunted in acknowledgement as they went by. They got to the door to the room, and Sam put a hand on their shoulders.

“If you need something, anything, let me know, okay?”

Ranboo nodded, and Tommy opened the door.

Phil and Techno were on one of the beds, looking like they didn’t belong there. Ranboo thought for a moment that they really didn’t, they’d distanced themselves from family and in doing so they had forever condemned the possibility that they could fit. It was what they deserved, but Ranboo felt sorry.

“Hey Tommy, Ranboo,” Phil said slowly. “How, uh, how’ve you been?”

Tommy scoffed as he went to sit down on a bed. “Been doing alright, considering all of my trauma.”

Ranboo cracked a smile, but it fell when Techno started talking.

“Can’t have been too bad if you’re friends with Tubbo again, given that he exiled you.”

Tommy’s eyes were set alight. “Tubbo was never part of the problem. Dream was.”

“How?” Techno asked, and Ranboo thought he almost seemed genuine. “From my point of view Dream doesn’t have anything to do with what happened. Help me understand, Tommy.”

Ranboo spoke instead. “Dream’s manipulative. He didn’t like that Tommy stood up to him, so he needed Tommy gone. But gone would get rid of the fun of this server- so exilling him and getting him submissive was the best option. Setting George’s house on fire was never as bad as he made it seem, Dream just needed a reason to exile him. That’s why he never cared that I was part of it, too.”

Phil looked surprised. “You were part of it?”

“Yeah. My first day, and I was committing arson.” He scoffed. “Not that you care.”

“We can get to that later,” Techno said. “What happened in exile, Tommy? Why were you under my house?”

Tommy’s wings fell until they settled on the bed. “Dream’s manipulative. What more do you need? What haven’t you figured out, considering that you’re able to analyze everything I do?”

“I need to hear it from you,” Techno said. “Because otherwise, I can’t be sure.”

Tommy sighed. “It started out alright, other than the fact that he blew up all my stuff and made me start from scratch. Then he did it every day, he told me to put my armor in a hole, and if I didn’t, he threatened to put me in it. He said he was my friend, he said Tubbo hated me, and ghostbur disappeared. I made a party, and Dream sent out the invites, but no one came. Only Dream, and then I started believing that he was my friend.”

“But what made you run away?” Phil asked.

“I’m getting there.” Tommy snapped. “He kept getting into my mind, making me believe that I had no one but him. I really thought he cared about me, despite all that he did to me.”

“What’d he do?” Phil interrupted again.

Tommy hesitated, so Ranboo spoke up instead. “Abused him. Why do you think he flinches? Or did you not care enough to find out?”

“I said we’d speak about that later,” Techno growled. “One thing at a time.”

Tommy barged back into the conversation. “I think it would have continued, but Dream found the room where I kept all the important things I didn’t want blown up. He blew up the entire room, then everything that I had built while in exile. He said that I deserved it, because I had disobeyed. I said sorry, but he said it wasn’t enough. He said that I needed to be punished, and I believed him, but I was so sick of it all, I was sick of exile, I was sick of life. So I took whatever building supplies remained from everything I’d worked so hard on, and I built into the sky. I didn’t reach as far as I’d wanted, but it would have been enough. I could almost touch the clouds. Then…” He trailed off.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Ranboo whispered, and Tommy just curled into his side.

“I’ll be fine. I was on that… the fucking pillar, looking down at the ground, when I realized what Dream had been doing. I’d almost let him win. I couldn’t let him win, so even though I knew my eyes were grey and I woke up every night submerged in the water, I jumped. I landed in a little lake, and ran. I ran to the snow, because I knew it would cover any footprints I made. I found your house, and I meant to just take some supplies, but it was so warm, and some part of me still hoped you’d care about me. So I burrowed under your house and tried to sleep.”

Techno made a small sound. “And you grew your wings?”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. “It was hell.”

“I’ll bet.” Phil huffed. “Why didn’t you have Techno call me?”

“Because I thought he wanted to put an axe through my skull.” Tommy snapped. “And I wasn’t exactly proven wrong, was I? What made you think it was a good idea to decimate my home?”

“I was angry.” Techno grumbled.

“That’s not a healthy way to take out your anger,” Ranboo argued. “And don’t you dare blame it on your voices. I know you could’ve ignored them. I know you have before.”

“They were a government,” Techo began, and Tommy groaned.

“He was sixteen!” Tommy exploded. “You expect a sixteen year old to run a country? He was stressed, and grieving, and you certainly didn’t help! The problem isn’t Tubbo, it’s that you expected him to be an adult when he never got to grow up. The problem isn’t a government, it’s that you wanted to be the most powerful thing on the server. You wanted an equal playing field, and for you, that means you control what everyone does. You weren’t some savior, you were just some overpowered guy with anger issues who wanted to destroy everything.”

Techno didn’t have a response. Ranboo figured there wasn’t really any way to respond to that.

“I guess,” Techno started after a tense silence, “you may have a point.”

Ranboo snorted, and Techno shot him a look that probably was supposed to be playful, but he couldn’t help but flinch.

Phil sighed. “And we heard what went down with Dream’s lair. Do you want to tell us about your, uh, your issues?”

Ranboo cracked a smile as Tommy draped a wing across his shoulder. “The main cause of my problems begins with D and ends in ream, pretty much. I heard his, well it wasn’t him, but it sounded like him, his voice, in my head, sometimes. Telling me I did things that I didn’t, or maybe I did. I can’t remember. It stopped when I went to the End, or sometime after. I don’t know why.”

“And why’d you go to the End?” Phil asked.

He breathed deeply. “I overheard you guys talking about your, your syndicate, or whatever you called it.”

“Oh.” Techno said, like he knew where this was going.

“I don’t even remember why I was there, but I heard Technoblade, who’s notorious for hating people using him as just a weapon, speaking about how he could send me to be their assassin to relieve them of the blame. How he could take advantage of my forgetfulness, and then I thought, surely Philza of all people would shoot that idea down, but I had to stand there and listen to Philza agree with Techno.”

Phil wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Ranboo kept going. “So I figured, this can’t get much worse, but then, and here’s the best part of it, I listened to Technoblade say that he hoped that I didn’t mistake our relationship for a personal one, because it was purely business. How was that supposed to make me feel?”

Techno wouldn’t meet his eyes either.

So, he kept going. “So I packed up my stuff, and I prepared to leave. But then, Phil noticed I was leaving. He didn’t bother to notice that I was being suspicious, almost as if he wanted me gone. The rest is history, the Enderman of the End don’t like me all that much.”

Tommy looked over at the people who used to be his family. “So? Your turn. Are you going to try to justify your actions?”

“No,” Phil said, and Ranboo noticed he almost seemed mortified. “No. Admittedly, we might have meant everything then, but after we tried to talk to Tommy last, we spoke about everything. We tried to figure out why you were angry at us, and we realized, well, we had this huge realization that, well, we’d fucked up.”

“You think?” Techno laughed. “We, amidst our thinking, might have noticed that we are, quite possibly,”

“Massive jerks?” Ranboo asked.

“A pair of bitches?” Tommy offered.

Phil and Techno both laughed a bit. Ranboo tried to not be scared.

After a while, Phil quieted. “I just… you guys are allowed to feel mad. You can be angry. But… I want you to know that we’re sorry. We’ve noticed that we’ve done wrong, we want to make it better, but it’s your choice. If you never want to see us again, we understand, but… we want a chance to fix our relationships.”

“From a business standpoint?” Ranboo asked, and Techno winced.

“I deserved that.” He admitted.

Tommy thought for a moment. “Well, as much as I would like to never have to see Techno’s ugly face or Phil’s old-ass one again, you seem at least half genuine. I guess I could give you a chance, but it’s not me that should be the deciding factor. Sure, you hurt me, but I’ve got a shit-ton of other things to get over before I even start to address it. Ranboo’s the man you should speak to about forgiveness.”

Ranboo didn’t like all the eyes on him, but he knew it was necessary. “I…” His voice cracked. “I don’t know. Me leaving led to a bunch of other trauma, and I… I just don’t know if,”

Phil smiled gently. “That’s okay. We can leave, or we can stay, or if you want to take it slow we can visit later…”

“No,” Ranboo shook his head. “You’re hurt. I’m not gonna kick you out. Just… I might not come see you for a while.”

“That’s okay,” Techno said. “Are you okay if I walk around?”

“If you take off your weapons.” Ranboo said, after a pause. “I can’t really expect you to stay cooped up here.”

“I’d do it if you asked me to.”

Ranboo tried not to immediately latch onto the fondness in Techno’s voice. He grew attached to people easily. He knew that. He’d just have to hug Sam or something after this.

“No, it’s fine.”

So that’s how Ranboo ended up in his room, alone. He still didn’t trust Techno, but he knew Tommy had missed them. He knew that Purpled and Punz needed their help. So, he’d tolerate it.

The door opened and he burrowed out from under the blankets just enough to see who was intruding on his brooding.

“Awww,” Tubbo cooed. “I know you’re probably sad but you look really cute in your little blanket cocoon.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel a little happier. “Whatever you say, Tubbo Underscore.”

“Can I get you anything?” Tubbo asked, softer. “I know this is rough for you.”

“What about you?” Ranboo asked. “Doesn’t the festival still scare you?”

Tubbo shrugged. “I dunno. I have nightmares about it sometimes, but it’s in the past. We’re even, too. I didn’t kill him, though.”

“It doesn’t change that he still did that to you,” Ranboo argued as Tubbo sat down. “How do you forgive him?”

“I don’t want to live with the feeling that not forgiving someone brings,” Tubbo admitted. “It might be a weak reason, but I want to move on. I don’t want to think badly of anyone. I will, if I need to, but Techno is trying to be better, I think. I don’t really know, he’s a hard person to read, but I tend to give people as many chances as they want, so I dunno.”

Ranboo grinned. “That’s a lot of ‘I don’t know’s Tubbo.”

Tubbo scoffed. “And you’re here listening, so…”

Tubbo stayed a little longer, until dinner.

Dinner was a tense affair. There were a lot of failed jokes, a lot of winces, a lot of silence. They were healing though, slowly. Ranboo knew it’d be a while, but he knew that Tommy had talked with them while he had hidden, so maybe they’d be okay. They talked about moving closer, since living in the arctic was a little unnecessary, and Ranboo was conflicted on it. He faked nonchalance, but he doubted anyone other than Phil and Techno believed him.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

He expected to just stay up, but around what he predicted was… midnight, Purpled turned over and groaned.

“Are you going to fall asleep or should we just watch a movie?”

Ranboo froze. “What?”

“Oh.” Purpled realized. “You weren’t there when I told everyone. I’m part Phantom.”

“I’m gonna act like I know what a Phantom is.” Ranboo chucked, feeling how the exhaustion was creeping over his body.

Purpled laughed. “True. Want me to tell you, or do you think that you’ll be up for a long time and wanna do something else?”

“Just talk.” Ranboo said. “I’m pretty tired.”

“I’d bet,” Purpled responded, and crawled over to where Ranboo huddled. “So, a phantom is an undead creature, which is kinda concerning, but that’s why I look like I need some rest. It can fly, and in worlds where they aren’t banned, they show up when someone hasn’t slept in three days, which is why I have characteristics that center around sleep. They don’t like daylight, which is why Punz gets a headache from sunlight, I guess. Uhh…”

Ranboo leaned his head on Purpled’s shoulder and sighed. “Continue.”

“I will. Oh, my eyes glow. I don’t know why, but it might be because there’s something to do with invisibility potions don’t work on their eyes? I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening when Phil talked about it. They’re apparently the fastest mob, so that’s why Punz is fast, uh, what else… you getting sleepy there?”

Ranboo hummed.

Purpled went on. “Oh, elytras are made of phantom membrane. Since you can only get elytras from the End, I guess that’s why I found the portal.”

Almost asleep, Ranboo frowned. “Don’t go to the End. It’s not nice.”

“Not nice?”

“No. The creatures don’t like me, but the void does, I think.”

Purpled frowned too. “The void?”

“Yeah. The void talks to me. She calls herself Death, but I don’t believe it. She was mad at Phil.”

“Yeah?” Purpled asked, and it’s clear he doesn’t really believe Ranboo. “Death and you had a chat?”

“Mhmm. She said she had to stop. She was nice, though.”

“Don’t go chatting with death.” Purpled said softly, as Ranboo started to drift asleep. “I want you to stay alive, okay?”

Ranboo nodded, but he was asleep a few seconds later, leaving Purpled alone with his thoughts.

If he was part of an undead mob, and Death was a real being, hypothetically, would he be able to talk to her? Purpled ended up deciding it was a question for another day, because it wasn’t really his problem. Death would show herself eventually, if she was mad at Phil, poor guy.

#ranboo #tommyinnit #dream #dreamsmp #awesamdude #purpled #punz #philza #technoblade #tubbo #fic #ao3 #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #found family #death!mumza #hybrid!ranboo #hybrid!tommy #hybrid!awesamdude #hybrid!purpled #literally everyone is a hybrid #awesamdad

[aitarose]

SKINNY LOVE | ZUKO

PAIRING: Zuko x Reader [fem]

PLOT: Years and years of build up, only to lead to absolutely nothing. Y/N’s constant emotion was confusion, and there was no changing that when it came to Zuko’s feelings.

WARNINGS: angst

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

A/N: my best friend says he might have feelings for me, and i’m so stressed right now i’m going crazy. so here’s a little fic that literally explains our entire relationship and these are all my raw emotions ew. also this is almost word for word our conversation tonight

MY MASTERLIST

Their cycle seemed to be infinite, running in circles on the same track over and over again throughout the course of their lifelong friendship. The friendship that had been more confusing than the most trivial question in the entire world.

Y/N had always considered feelings to be straightforward. Something that could be determined with a simple yes or no answer, rather than continuous strife and struggles, arguments and silence.

She knew what she felt, and she wanted other’s to know that. Communication was no fare for her when it came to anger, sadness, and love—especially when it came to love.

Zuko on the other hand had what some would call troubles in the aspect of emotions. He’d bottle up all of his stress and worries, bursting like a volcano when they’d release. 

After years, decades of friendship and unspoken feelings, Y/N still didn’t know where she stood with the newly crowned Fire Lord. They’d danced around their relationship for what seemed like forever, him never truly speaking the words she’d always wanted to hear.

And after so many rounds of psychoanalyzing his words and phrases, the responses he’d give her after she’d try her best to pour her heart out to him, Y/N was beginning to grow sick of their routine.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him anymore, she was just so unbelievably tired of it all. Peace was the thing she needed most. Inner peace with herself, her appearance, her confidence.

All the things that she’d never fully realized due to her constant focus on Zuko and only Zuko. The things that made someone unique, what made them them. She was lacking them, and the only way to grow was to distance herself.

So, distance was what she gave him. Y/N moved around the world, never settling in one nation, finding new cultures and traditions to enjoy and bringing them back with her to the Fire Nation every now and then.

During her little conquest, Zuko had found his place beside Mai. Comfortable in his own little bubble, never taking any risks outside of the familiarity of his daily life. He hadn’t grown up—that was the first thing Y/N had come to notice as her feelings were reborn.

It’d taken her two years to move on from him, two years to find love for herself and take interest in people other than her best friend—but the minute she heard that he ended his relationship with Mai, they’d come flying back.

All of her former insecurities pounded in her mind, screaming in her inner monologue, refusing to give her a single second of silence. Y/N was out of breath, completely lost in the sea of her own thoughts.

She and Zuko had stayed in contact over the years of her adventure. Constantly writing letters back and forth, telling each other about their day, their new friends, and whatever was remotely interesting in their lives. 

Although she hadn’t physically seen him in so long, Y/N still felt a connection to him. A connection that pulled her like a magnet the minute he stood before her, smiling his dopey, crooked grin.

When he’d wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the tightest hug she’d ever been a part of—Y/N’s heart quite literally dropped, falling out of her body, and rolling out into the ocean. 

Her chest was tight, it was almost as if she felt like she was choking on a food that was stuck in her throat. Something that was refusing to come out, no matter how hard she tried to say those three little words—I love you.

And Zuko, himself, hadn’t settled her storm by any means. If anything, he’d encouraged it to rage on, encouraged it to continue to torment and demolish all the self respect she’d grown.

Whilst Y/N had jokingly spoken out the idea of them being together, he’d practically driven her to insanity. “What if I wasn’t joking, Zuko?” She wondered, freezing in disbelief at what she was saying. “What if I did feel that way?”

In response, Zuko simply laughed. His eyes pinched shut, a wide smile overtaking his mouth in amusement at her curiosity. “I don’t believe you, Y/N.” He rolled his eyes, playing with their intertwined hands. “You don’t actually feel that way.”

At that, a light scoff escaped Y/N’s lips, her face becoming contorted and annoyed. “Okay.” She started, shaking her head at the conversation she was about to trigger. “Well, what would your response be if I did?”

Zuko’s looked in her direction, his amber eyes meeting her steely ones. “You’re really baiting me, aren’t you?” His face went a little pale at her slight nod, a large gulp running down his neck. 

“It wouldn’t be a no.” 

Y/N’s smile dropped, her expression growing blank as her heartbeat began to jump out of her chest. What he’d just hinted at was her getting what she’d always wanted, the thing that she’d dreamed of since she was only five years old.

Both of them seemed to be frozen in the moment, neither knowing exactly what was going on as they weren’t aware of what their feelings for each other were. Their lives had become so different, they’d become so different.

Zuko was a leader now, a person that needed to have stability and assurance in his life. He was a traditionalist, he needed rules and regulations to live in harmony with himself and his people.

Y/N, however, was a free spirit. She knew what she wanted in life and she’d be sure to make it happen. Commitment and social standards weren’t on her agenda, as she didn’t have one.

But when it came to Zuko, Y/N would do anything. She’d drop her goals and dreams if it’d amount to one minute of true happiness in his arms. Her love for him had grown toxic, it was poison in her brain.

Poison that could also be considered pure. A feeling of actual and real love for the prince that she’d known for her entire life. Everything about him contradicted itself, the stress he made her feel was practically indescribable.

“Are you being serious?” Y/N was on the verge of hysterically laughing, she was so appalled by Zuko’s response. Her face was bright red, dancing on the line of embarrassment and anger. 

Zuko let go of her hands, his palm running over the back of his neck. He shrugged, sheepishly smiling as he looked everywhere but at her. “Yeah.” He sighed, pursing his lips. “That seemed like the wrong answer.”

“No.” Y/N’s neck snapped to turn to him, her eyes searching for his own. Her voice became breathless, her lungs nearly gasping for air. “Go back. Are you being serious, right now, that your answer wouldn’t be a no?”

As Zuko shook his head to signify that he wouldn’t reject her question, Y/N almost toppled over in shock. “So, figuratively speaking, if I had feelings for you—you wouldn’t reject me straight on?”

Thirty seconds was what it took for Zuko to answer her. Half a minute of earth shattering patience that Y/N had to endure before she heard his simple words. “No, of course not.”

“But what does that mean?” Y/N was now itching for closure. She had to find out what this all meant. What it meant for their past, their present, and the future of their relationship.

“I would have no reason to reject you, that’s what it means.” He simply shrugged, expecting the conversation to be over by now. The talk of feelings was wearing Zuko out, causing a large yawn to form on his features.

He was tired, exhausted at the discussion of romance and secret pining. Communication simply wasn’t his strong suit, and while Y/N fully knew that, she continued to press further.

“You don’t get it, Zuko. You’re confusing me.” She explained, waving her hands out in front of her face. “So, you wouldn’t reject me, but you also wouldn’t say yes to a confession?”

Y/N was pushing him to his emotional limit. The mental blockade that always formed in his brain, beginning to cancel out his words. Zuko’s headspace was starting to empty, sleep being the only goal in mind.

“Those do really contradict, don’t they?” His eyes had begun to drop, opening and closing. Zuko’s body was now resting on Y/N’s, most of his weight being supported by her stature.

Y/N led her best friend towards his living quarters, still having a million questions at the tip of her tongue—whilst only one made its way out. “What does it all mean? You never said what it means.”

As she opened the door to his bedroom, Zuko let go of his hold on her. He gave her a toothless smile, weary from his low energy, and closed the door, giving her a final glance through the crack of light.

“It means that I’m tired, Y/N.” His eyes held her gaze, sending her waves of confessions in a single glance. “I’m tired and I can’t give you all that you need right now. Perhaps we can continue this in the morning.”

But with morning, came no confessions. No discussion of what had gone down the night before. It was as if they’d never been together at all, as if it was just another night between two platonic friends.

In reality, Y/N didn’t believe that she’d ever be worthy enough for someone like Zuko. Someone who seemed to be so unbelievably perfect for her in every way, shape, and form.

Maybe the best way to end this constant cycle would be to disappear. To leave him be, in his own happy little life, away from herself. She’d learned to live without him once, there was no way she wouldn’t be able to do it again.

The only problem was did she really want to live a life without him?

TAGS: @practicallylivesonline​ @cherryskyies​ @shell-bells-ringding​  @xapham​ @mochminnie​ @bombardia​ @xxspqcebunsxx​ @missmorosis​ @mysticpeacecrusade @akiris​ @simpinforsukka​ @protect-remus​ @kaylove12​@lammello​ @user12345321 @duh-dobrik​

#zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko imagines #zuko fic #zuko fanfic #zuko fanfiction #zuko oneshot #zuko angst #angst #unrequited love #skinny love #atla #zuko #atla x reader #atla imagine #atla fic #atla fanfic #atla fanfiction #atla oneshot #avatar #avatar the last airbender #the last airbender

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Helping Hand

This is a Repost from my Ao3 I wanted to bring it to Tumblr. I hope you like it Its currently 5 chapters I will be uploading the rest throughout the rest of the week.

Word Count: 3300 approx

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.4

Chapter 5: Age of Ultron pt.2

Ch.6

"Y/N you can't keep coming in and not talking." Your therapist tells you quite frustrated. "I'm paying you aren't I, I'll do what I please with the time I pay for." You say finally making eye contact with her. She only sighs. "Y/N I find that often people ask for help in the most obvious yet concealed manner."

You turn away, she continues. "You said it yourself you're paying me… If you don't want me to ask these questions, walk out and stop paying me." You look back "I can't… because I feel like I might just explode at any point." She nods encouraging you to continue. 

"Recently I went through something that combined with all the other shit i've gone through… I can't cope. I don't know how." You wipe your eyes and continue. "I've never been stable, but i've always been okay with that. I've never lost anyone in a traumatic way." Your therapist lifts their head. "Who have you lost?"

"I never knew my parents so I didn't really lose them. I knew that Howard was going to pass and I got closure." She jumps in when she realizes you stopped talking. "And what makes this loss different?" You look at her with a tear rolling down your cheek. "The fact that it was my fault."

Three Weeks Ago 

Wanda speaks first "I read your mind and all I saw was destruction." He promptly asked her to check again. He then goes on to have some sort of existential crisis not knowing what he actually is. I didn't really start to listen until Clint mentioned where Nat was… Sokovia. You immediately got pale once you heard what Ultron was planning to do with Sokovia. "I need to make a call" you say mostly to yourself but Pietro heard you. 

No one noticed you stepped out of the room but him. "Who do you think you're calling?" You jump as he sped in front of you. "I need to warn my family they need to get out." Pietro only laughs "Forgive me but you don't seem like one to have family much less in Sokovia of all places. Why don't you just tell me the truth"

"Im aware you might not know me but I'm Y/N Krast… I run the practice I need to warn my friends.  They'll spread the word and start an evac." He sighs. "You need to tell the rest of the guys. It might not be the best move." You nod and walk back into the room there all in. Tony notices you and walks straight to you fearing the Maximoff kid did something to you. 

"Did he do anything kiddo because if he did I swear to…" you cut him off. "Im fine but I need to ask you something." He nods telling you to proceed. "Can I warn my friends back in Sokovia? They can help get the people out of there." Tony looks at you and nods. "I guess it can't hurt to take some precautions. Do it." You smile and walk out the room Dialing David immediately. 

"Y/N are you okay, it's like three in the morning." You're relieved to hear his voice. "Listen to me David, you need to get as many people as you can out of Sokovia. The people are in danger." Davud sighs "Are you having another melt down remember breathe. In and out…" 

"David this is not a game, you have to get as many people as you can out now… Tell Viv too she needs to get her family out. Do as I say David please the people will listen to you." David starts talking again, the panic rising in his voice. "Y/N what do you know… more importantly how do you know?" You raise your voice. "FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE DON'T QUESTION ME! Just do it." 

David, shocked by your reaction shifts his tone. "I'll do my best. I need to go." He hangs up not even giving you a chance to say goodbye. (This is what you'll end up regretting later.) 

"You truly care for these people… your family or friends." You look up and see the last person you expected. The witch is standing there in the doorway. "Yes, I do care, Wanda because believe it or not we're not all bad people." The comment came out more spiteful than you expected wincing at your own words. You're about to apologize when she beats you to it. "I'm sorry about earlier." She looks down picking at her hands. 

You sit down on the steps facing a window and signal for her to sit as well. She joins you reluctantly. "I'm not going to bite." You say. Drawing out a small laugh that made your heart flutter. "Did you see inside my head?" You ask. Her head tilts at your question, but ultimately she shakes her head. "Yeah it happens sometimes I can't control it." You nod. "For the record I dont think youre a bitch. Well I did in the moment…" she cuts you off laughing. "I believe the words you used were 'Crazy Bitch'." You chuckle. 

"We should get going…" You stand, helping her up and go to the team. “I contacted my friend David, and I texted my… other friend Viv. They’ve started evacuating people as we speak.” Tony nods and gives you an understanding look. “Now what's our plan to save Nat.” Steve goes on to explain his plan which consists of getting as many people as we could out then fighting Ultron. Once you arrived in Sokovia the streets were desolate. Not a soul in sight.

Pietro gazes in astonishment. “Your friends are good.” You nod relieved seeing that David and Viv did what you asked. “Well check if there are any people left behind…” Wanda cuts in. You weren't given the time to check for any last bystanders when she city starts shaking, and there are bots everywhere. You realize that Sokovia is flying. Tony then informs you of Ultrons plans. You all split up fighting the bots and Bruce made his way to Nat. Not long after Hulk and Natasha had made their way to the now floating Sokovia. Long story short the bad guy was defeated, and all was right in the world again.

Present 

“Alright Doc, have you been following this I know first hand it can be a little complicated.” She nods as you continue. “Well my friends, not the Avengers. Umm… their names were David, and Vivian.” She notices your struggle to continue but you power through the tears building in your eyes. “You see, saving the world came at a price, a price that I was willing to pay, but not like this. I got to the compound, and dialled David and what did I find?” She tells you to continue. “Five… Five missed calls from David telling me that he was going to stay behind in the Practice with Viv.” Tears are now streaming down your cheeks. “Now I imagine that you know what happened to Sokovia ‘Boom’.” You signal with our hands telling her that it was all gone.

Suddenly a timer goes off and your walls are up again. “Y/N you can continue if you want to, I don't…” You interrupt her standing up and heading to the door. “Actually I think that, that was enough for today.” You say walking out. It was confirmed both David and Viv dead… and it was all because of you. After this you distanced yourself. Declining Maria Hills offer to become an Avenger, and also walking away from the Stark Industries collaboration. Unfortunately falling down a deeper hole than you'd ever been in with our addiction. When walking out of the office building your shrink is in when you bump into someone.... 

“Long time no see Y/N!” You recognize the voice immediately. “I saw you following me last week, as a matter of fact i've spotted you multiple times Natasha.” She laughs, and you roll your eyes. “Now why are you mad Y/N what did you think would happen? You ghosted everyone after Sokovia, why are you angry?” You sigh and start walking away but she stops you. “Because you were right Natasha there was a cost to this and it's taking quite the toll.” Natasha lets go of your arm confused “What are you talking about everything came out great.” you laugh bitterly “For almost everyone else oh and feel free to tell Pepper than I'm not taking her calls no matter how hard she insists.”

“Does this have anything to do with the drugs Y/N because if it does I know some people that can help you.” The way she says it almost makes you believe that she cares, but at the end of the day you know she had orders. You look at her incredulously walking away again, this time she doesnt stop you.  

Natashas POV

“Well if you're not going to tell me guess i'm going to have to find out the hard way.” You walk into the building Y/N just came out of and make your way to the Shrink's office. You not so nicely asked for Y/N’s file. As youre reading the file you remember her words bitter and angry “For almost everyone…” Now it makes sense her friends died and no one was there for her. Fuck. You pick up the phone and dial Pepper. “I know what's going on. Call a meeting in the compound and I'll get there in thirty minutes.”  

You meet up with everyone at the compound. You share the files with the team and everyone is shocked talking with each other until you notice Wanda. She doesn't look surprised. You pull her aside. "Why are you being quiet? What do you know about Y/N." She sighs "It was an accident alright when we came back I looked into her head. She looked so happy I was curious… When I looked she was grieving, tearing herself apart." 

You look at her. "And you said nothing you let us believe that she just didn't care." She laughs. "She doesn't! She doesn't want your help, she made that quite clear already. The one person she thought that she could count on was some guy named Logan." You querk your head, was she jealous, are you jealous. You shake your head. "What else did you see?" Your ask casually. Testing the waters you didn't want to expose Y/N but you have to know what she knew. 

"Was there something else I was supposed to see?" You shake your head no, and make your way back to the team. There's fighting over who should talk to her. "I think Tony should go…" Steve says like it's nothing. You almost laugh. Tony gives you a dirty look. "I think pepper should go." You say matter of factly. She asks you to elaborate. "She cares for you the most, but she is angry not at you in general." She nods and everyone else agrees for lack of a better idea. 

Peppers Pov 

You walk out of the compound with Tony by your side. "You can come if you want to." Your say to break the silence. He shakes his head. "When are you going to tell her that you're her father." He only sighs "I can't tell her… I can't ruin Howard for her because she loved him." You quickly counter "It's going to be worse the longer you wait." You continue "The only reason I didn't push before was because you weren't sure but now you are Tony she's your daughter." 

"That's exactly why I can't tell her now she's dealing with a lot. It's not a good time." You nod "Fine." Is all you can say. You walk into Krast industries expecting to be greeted by a busy work floor but are surprised when you see the exact opposite. You do see a familiar face though commandeering the floor. Logan. "Hey logan how are you? I'm hoping I could talk to Y/N." Logan stops in his tracks. 

"What do you mean if i've seen her? I thought she was with you guys." He says the panic growing in his voice. "Umm… no she's not been with us for a couple of weeks now. Are you sure you haven't seen her and what's going on here." 

Logans Pov 

Of course you knew where she was, but you weren't about to tell them. "Yeah no I've talked to her on the phone I just figured she was with your guys." Pepper is still confused about what is happening. "She asked me to get ready for major remodel… all our employees will work from home for the time being." She nods. "Do you know where I could find her? I really need to talk to her." Well that's not going to happen now. Seen as she's currently passed out on your couch. 

"She might be at home… She does this sometimes. She runs, but i'll give you her address if you really want to talk to her."

Your Pov 

After running into Natasha you went to a bar. A complete rookie move. You knew better, but at the same time you didn't care you've been loading up taking a larger doses and mixing with alcohol. You called Logan to come pick you up and he was there like always. "I can't lose you Logan, I wouldn't survive it. Why does everyone I love die?" He holds his tongue you can tell. "Tell me what you're thinking it's not good to hold your emotions in…" He laughs bitterly. "You think I'd survive losing you Y/N this feeling goes both ways. You're blind to my pain Y/N seeing you like this hurts me it shakes me to my core."

"I'm not blind to your pain… I know you better than I know myself. I'm going to therapy, and before you say it i'm actually talking this time. I'm getting help." He nods "Every step of the way that includes relapsing. Y/N just don't make me lose you." You nod tears building in your eyes. "I won't." 

When you wake up you're in Logan's apartment it's nice. Your head is pounding. You decide to go home… in hindsight that was a horrible idea. You have no idea where you are and also have no idea where you're going.  "Fuck… taxi, TAXI." 

They dont fucking stop you dont blame them you look like trash, hell you feel like it too. You make it to a coffee shop and just sit there. Waiting for what you don't know at least not until the owner comes around. "I don't want to have to kick you out but it's nearing closing time, want me go call a cab." 

You laugh "See id say yes and please but I don't remember where I live." He nods feeling bad for you. "Having a bad day, want to talk about it?" You sigh “I would, but sadly my opening up to complete strangers quota is full for the day.” They laugh handing you some coffee. “It 'll help you sober up, So what is it? Alcohol, meth, let me guess pills.” You widen your eyes. “Don't worry, I'm not judging I meet people of all walks of life.” You nod. “Do you mind if I make a call my friend is probably worried sick.” He hands you his phone and you dial Logan (the only number you know by heart.) “Y/N where are you ive been worried sick. Why did you leave?” 

“I went out for coffee you know to sober up faster I needed air.” He sighs “Can you make your way back or do you want me to pick you up?” You turn from the barista person in front of you. “Um I want to go home but I can't for the life of me remember my address.”  David gives you your address and calls you a cab. You thank him and end the call. “So it looks like I'm heading home in a minute the taxi won't take long.” He smiles reaching his hand out to take their phone back. “I’ll see you around probably…” You nod "probably not.” You say hesitantly, and he laughs. You Are interrupted by the taxi honking its horn. “I hope to see you around by the way. I'm Zack Gordon.” your smile drops immediately. 

You compose yourself before he notices your change in attitude. You plaster on a fake smile and make your way out turning one last time. “We’ll see each other around Zack.” He smiles. The whole cab ride was silent, you're contemplating fate. What are the fucking odds of all the cafe’s you could have walked into you walked into his. When you least expect it you’re in front of your house. You walk in and immediately notice something off. You walk into your living room only to see someone sitting in the dark. You know who it is immediately. “Always with the theatrics, it's starting to get old. Would you like something to drink.” She sighs “Y/N I want to talk.”  You sit clapping your hands causing the lights in the house to turn on.

“Right Pepper talk, i'm listening” Her eyes widen, showing her confusion. “Look, I'm not angry with our team or you, but I just have some crap to deal with… Alone.” Pepper looks down. “You don't have to go through this alone, you have us now.” Your eyes bolt to hers. “And how exactly do you know what i'm going through… You know what I don't need to know because it doesn't matter.” you sigh “I’ve gone through life alone. I dealt with the punches life has thrown my way by myself. This won't be the exception.” You see Peppers complexion turn red, she's angry. “Why can't you stop making yourself a martyr, talk about dealing with children? You and Tony are the only ones who can make me this irritated.”

“Because I'm broken Pepper and before Natasha or Wanda decide to tell you I'm an addict. Everything is wrong right now so I need to take a step away, I need to get clean.” Peppers eyes soften moving to sit next to you. “You know i'm not leaving your side right?” Your eyes begin to water. “I relapsed… it's bad Pepper. I've never fallen this hard and I'm scared.” She hugs you. “I’ve never had this… people who really care it was just Logan and I.  As of recently it was David, Viv, and I. Now I lost them and I can't. I can't sleep, I can't breathe, and I'm so tired Pepper I don't know how much more of this I can take.” 

“Okay come on Y/N let's get you to your room.” You and Pepper stand on your way up the stairs and you start to stumble. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this. I am very sorry I drank coffee to sober up but it didn't work.” She nods “It’s okay we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You both finally make it to your room and as soon as your head hits the pillow you fall asleep.

When you wake up you are surprised by your surroundings you didn't quite remember how you got here. You sit up and hear chattering downstairs. You go down stairs, the memories of last night making their way to you now. THE AVENGERS HAVING BREAKFAST IN YOUR KITCHEN. You watch as thor brakes your plates making you flinch. “As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm I dont think Y/N would appreciate us breaking her plates.” you clear your throat and as you do everyone goes quiet. “Good Morning everyone.”

#avengers #tony stark #pepper potts #tony x pepper #wanda maximoff #thor odinson #vision #pietro maximoff #clint barton #natasha romanoff #marvel #avengers ultron #reader x avengers #natasha x y/n #wanda x reader

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

No strings attached (G.D./E.D.)

Summary: When his brother gets married, Grayson is there for his best friend who happens to be Ethan’s ex and the one who got away. However, when she suggests they start a no strings attached relationship with the sole purpose of having a baby together, Grayson is quick to accept for he had loved her his whole life and maybe...just maybe, she loves him too. And while she struggles to move on, remembering the twin who had broken her heart, Ethan complicates everything when he admits he still has feelings for her.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT (unprotected sex), cheating, alcohol, swearing..

Word count: 18k+

"You came." It didn't feel like a statement, more like a gasp that passed his lips in a moment of weakness because seeing her had rattled his self-made gilded cage.

"Grayson insisted." Y/N forced a polite smile, but she couldn't fool Ethan. Not when he had taught her how to fake a smile because she was always too honest and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was too pure to be able to deceive people, so he showed her how and he never expected he'd be hit with a fake smile from her heavenly lips he loved to kiss.

"Oh." It's more of a sigh, a heaviness that pushes down on his chest and makes it harder for him to breathe. It’s been about ten years since they were truly alone and he never thought the next time they would find themselves alone would be in a barn right after he vowed to spend his life with another.

"Is there a reason you wanted to talk to me or are you here just to stare?" Her sharp tongue had caught him by surprise, but he didn't mean her harm, surely she knew that? He simply couldn't help himself once he saw her leave in need of solitude, his own need to speak to her too dire to resist the temptation.

"I'm not sure. I just...when I saw you, I felt my heart stop and everything I didn't want to remember came rushing back. I felt like I'm twenty again, standing in front of you with my heart in my hand and you breaking it all over again." The last thing he wanted was to start an argument, especially not one that's ten years old and something he should have left in the past. His conviction of that is confirmed when her impassive face slowly changes from disbelief, to frustration, to rage.

"I broke your heart?!" Control she tried to hold onto had dispersed as his words reopened wounds she tried hard to close for a decade and failed inevitably.

How can one move on from a man she considered to be the one? No one compares, even now as he's pushing her buttons on a day she felt herself shatter. Even when he had chosen another over her, time and time again, he couldn't let her go. He either loved her too much or not enough.

"You're so full of shit, Ethan. Always were." With a shake of her head, she couldn't do it. She couldn't stand there and rehash the painful past he had left her burdened with. She came for closure, not to be reminded of the cruel nature of their lover's death.

"Me? I'm full of shit?! I stood there, making an eternal vow to someone I always thought would be you, but it never happened! Kristina isn't you!" Shouting at her as she tries to pass him by and get as far away as possible, Ethan grabbed her wrist on instinct and pulled her back to face him. When he did that in the past, she'd always smile and kiss him, tell him all she ever wanted was to know he cares enough to fight for her and their argument would be over, but not this time. There was no room for forgiveness in her eyes and her hate for him was brighter than the fire she held for him before.

“Be honest. We could have worked out.” Her eyes narrow at him when his words grip her heart and mind, pulling her back to a time when she was such a fool for him. From the moment he first kissed her, she was slowly losing herself in him.

"And I'm to blame?" She scoffed, ripping her hand out of his hold with a scowl on her face. Rubbing her wrist to soothe the ache that couldn't compare to the real pain he's caused her, she draws in a short breath.

"You left to Australia to figure things out and disappeared for a month! You brought a girl with you halfway across the world, quarantined together! You started dating her before ever telling me we were finished and then I was expected to be your friend? Fuck that and fuck you." The darkness in her voice is easy to imagine festering inside her for years, yet Ethan never realized she saw it like that.

He could see the pain written in her teary eyes, on her slightly wrinkled forehead and in her trembling lips. He could see the anguish he caused her and yet he found himself torn to pieces by all the plans for the future he had for them that never came true. Years have gone by and somehow, by a cruel twist of fate, she had grown into an enchanting, gorgeous woman and he still had a weakness for her.

"I was at the airport, naive enough to think the online chatter were baseless rumors, but I saw you kiss her." Swallowing thickly, Y/N found it hard to breathe. "And I guess it was fate for you...after all, you did marry her today." She shrugs, wiping a tear before it even started its path down her cheek, likely her last stubborn act to protect her pride and flawless makeup.

"I wish I didn't. I...thought you'd call, or come. I left you a ticket to come for my birthday and you never did. I just thought you were done with me. I thought our time apart had turned into a break and she was there...she was good to me.” Running a hand through his hair, Ethan could hardly breathe with the way she looked at him, her presence is just as intoxicating now as it was back then.

“Why didn't you tell me? If you told me you cared, I'd have left her in a heartbeat, even today. Even now." Ethan sighs, leaning closer to the woman he should have fought for, the woman of his dreams and the one he had told his father was his soulmate. Perhaps it's his stubbornness or his pride that blinded him to her feelings that persisted for so long, but no matter what it was, he had no excuse. He should have fought for her.

"How convenient for you." But she wasn't forgiving now as she usually is and she had no more heart left to give this man who had gambled her trust away. Not after the damage he had caused and left her alone to deal with the rubble.

"Go back to your lovely wife, Ethan. She deserves a faithful husband." With a slight push of her palms against his chest, Y/N had done what she should have done long ago - she let Ethan go and finally, for the first time in forever, she could breathe fresh air again.

Her head hurt and the old scars burned, but as she walked away, her soul was made anew - light and open to new beginnings, something she avoided. She had pushed away every man that got too close, afraid to be hurt again. Now, she found herself ready to try again.

"Tired?" Grayson raised an eyebrow as he took one good look at her glistening eyes and realized how draining the day must have been for her. Every time he asked, he'd get the generic "I'm fine" answer and a smile he could see through, but he let her pretend if it meant she'd get through the day alive. He saw her wither, mourn for his brother for years and it pained him too much for it to be healthy, but he felt her pain personally.

"Exhausted." She mustered a real smile for her best friend, opening her arms wide to give him the biggest hug just for being him. She might have lost Grayson for a while when Ethan first broke her heart and it was mostly because she needed time to heal but they quickly found their way back to each other and despite them moving away in different parts of the country, the pair stayed in contact and always made sure to meet every few months if their lives took them away for longer periods of time.

"But I'm glad I came. It felt good to let the old grudges go." She tightens her hold on Grayson, her hands resting on his strong back as his muscles relax under her fingertips and she can only smile in content. She never felt as warm or safe like she did in his arms. He's always been the man that made her smile, even when she was going through hell. Happy or sad, angry or stressed, he was there to lighten the mood and she always appreciated him for it.

"Wanna have a movie night and get a bit drunk?" Grayson suggests, more than aware of her sudden burst of giggles at the thought of him drinking alcohol.

"You don't drink." She reminds him, continuing to chuckle, covering her mouth with her right hand, something Grayson hated. He always thought she had the most beautiful smile and yet, at some point, Y/N felt deeply insecure about it and it drove him mad because it deprived him of the most mesmerizing view.

"I'll drink a few with you. I'll even let you throw popcorn at every cheesy romance scene on TV." With a small smirk, Grayson pulled her closer to him, stealing a second hug for his soul, but to reassure her as well.

"Let's go." She mumbled into his shirt before separating, allowing Grayson to open her door as he always insisted. She appreciated the gesture more than he knew. Grayson is a perfect gentleman and she couldn’t help but question why he’s been single for so long. In fact, he never had a real relationship since they met.

Driving away to Y/N's hotel room, just to make sure no one comes looking for them at the Dolan house, the pair were unaware of wandering eyes of a drunk, desperate groom who felt his rage swell inside his chest with every beat of his bleeding heart.

**

They drove in silence, music filling the air to prevent any awkwardness although they never had those moments...unless the time Grayson walked in on a naked Y/N in the shower back when they first met at eighteen counts. Aside from a bruise he got from running into a wall instead of the door as he apologized profusely, Grayson found it hard to look at her at all without being flooded with inappropriate thoughts.

"Make yourself comfortable." She tells him the moment she walks into her hotel room, dropping her bag by the door, throwing her heels off within the next two steps. Her heels remained tossed close to the door, like a hazard Grayson was sure would make him sorry he didn't put them in the place neatly for her, but the moment he saw her unzip her dress and it fell to the floor around her sore feet, his brain no longer functioned properly.

With a single move of her fingers, she unhooked her bra as well, throwing it behind her with a loud exhale of relief and while she told Grayson to get comfortable, he could hardly move. Hell, he could hardly breathe as his heart picked up speed and his dick soon felt the accelerated blood flow as it twitched in his pants, aching for release.

She was quick to put on a loose shirt, leaving her with an almost covered ass and those curvy legs of hers available to his curious, hungry gaze that couldn’t ignore the lacy green panties she had on.

"I have a bottle of wine I wanted to gift the newlyweds, but fuck them. They're getting married and starting their life, they don't need quality wine! We do!" Rambling, she grabbed a few glasses that clinked as she carried them, placing them on the table before settling on the couch, only then noticing a very stiff looking Grayson who still stood by the door.

"Are you okay?" She tilts her head to the right with the slightest inkling of worry in her eyes, looking him over for signs he may need help - top to bottom, only to pause in the middle as his problem became evident.

Swallowing thickly, she bites her bottom lip as Grayson rubs the back of his neck nervously, ashamed of his current situation but she only chuckles, rolling her eyes.

"I'll take it as a compliment, now get out of those uncomfortable clothes and drink with me." She orders, opening the bottle with a slight pop before she pours herself a full glass and half a glass to her best friend. Better to pace him than have him drunk within an hour.

"If you're not here in a minute, I'll rip those clothes off you myself." Fixing her eyes on his situation once more, she raises a brow with her very own curiosity playing games with her mind. "With my teeth." She adds coyly, watching Grayson squirm, unable to ignore the red tint in his cheeks.

Quickly, Grayson takes her advice...or better yet, order, getting into nothing but his boxers, stumbling over her hazardously tossed shoes before sitting next to her.

"I don't have anything else to wear." He groans, too aware of his hard on being distinctly impossible to hide now, even as he placed both hands over it.

"I'll crank up the heat so you’re not cold. It's fine. We're friends. If you want to cover up, you can use the blanket, but I promise you I'm not insulted or anything. If I'm anything, it's horny and that won't be happening, so..." Trailing off, she shrugs with disappointment in her small smile and for the first time in forever, Grayson saw an opening. It's something he had held back on, but he didn't have it in him to keep denying himself the woman he had desired for so long he no longer found anyone else worthy of his time for more than one night.

Stature of limitations can't possibly be effective after one party is married, right? Besides, Ethan had simply gotten to her first when in fact, it was Grayson she first met.

"I wouldn't take that watch. It's a knockoff." Grayson couldn't help himself. Not only was the person in question drop dead gorgeous, she also picked up a watch he made a mistake on a year ago and it was a rather hefty check he gambled in the process.

"I'm aware. But thank you." She didn't look back, tired of men and their mansplaining, and definitely tired of men flirting. She wasn't exactly popular with guys she likes, but for some unknown reason, guys she didn't like had a tendency to be very persistent in winning her affections.

"So why buy it then?" However, Grayson was never one to give up and he had no intention of letting this woman go without asking her name first.

"Because my budget allows for a counterfeit, nothing more and I still want it to look fancy." At this point, Grayson knew he was the last person this girl wanted to talk to, but as he opens his mouth to apologize, she turns to him with grace he believed to be magical and her eyes met his.

As cliché it may be, Grayson thought time stopped...even if he was standing in the middle of a shop filled with clocks that could easily prove him wrong but he never felt it before - can a heart literally skip a beat when you meet the person you're meant to be with?

"What if I can give you a fancy, original watch and all you'd have to do is make me a dinner?"

Looking back, he saw how that might have made her feel like he's giving her an immoral offer, but at the time, she was desperate and he was handsome as hell. She saw it as a win and agreed with the widest, most beautiful smile - the first time he ever saw her smile and a sight she didn't cover up back then.

Little did he know Ethan would end up being there as well, crashing their date and soon enough, stealing her right under his nose.

So yes, maybe he didn't give a shit if Ethan is okay with it, this was finally his time to shine. If it's not too late considering she seems to be in love with Ethan even now after he betrayed her over and over again.

"Can you believe Ethan got married before us?" Already tipsy, Y/N chuckles in disbelief, leaning closer to Grayson as she holds her second glass of wine close to her chest. She wasn't much of a drinker either, but she needed some alcohol to get through the night.

"I mean, I always thought it would be you. He used to tell me he isn't fond of the idea of marriage but when we have kids and all that he'd be okay with us getting married." Taking a big chug, she nearly chokes on the wine, coughing as Grayson pats her back lightly. He used to think he’d be the first to get married too, but he gave up on the notion.

"Remember when we made that deal?" It suddenly dawned on her as Grayson reminded her of something she buried in the furthest parts of her mind.

"Before you and Ethan got together, we were sitting on the roof, watching the stars?" Grayson continues and she hums, acknowledging him.

"I said I'd marry you if we were thirty and single." She didn't expect the smile that appeared on her lips nor the honest emotion that took over. They were only eighteen when they made the deal after she and Ethan got into an argument about him buying her expensive gifts she had never asked for before they were even dating officially.

"We're almost thirty now." Stating, she turned completely to Grayson, her eyes taking in his naked torso before continuing.

"We don't have to get married or anything, but don't you want kids?"

Rubbing his forehead, Grayson couldn't help but feel he's too sober for this conversation.

Does he want kids? More than anything!

Did he think he'd be nearly thirty and alone? Never.

"Yes. I know where you're going with this and no. You're drunk, you're not thinking soundly so we can't go down that road." Grayson sighs, moving back to give her some space and create a little distance between them, but she quickly grabs his hand and holds him in place.

"I had two glasses of wine, don't be so dramatic.” Rolling her eyes at him before her face falls, Y/N sighs.

“Grayson, I can feel my biological clock ticking and my womb is crying for a baby to carry. I want this and I honestly can't imagine anyone I'd rather do it with than you. You are daddy material. I've always loved that about you." Taking his hand in hers, she inched closer with a slight smile pushing onto her face.

"We are best friends. We can't just have a baby and act nothing happened. IVF would be brutal anyway." Grayson is trying his best to be the voice of reason. He had a sip of wine, but not nearly enough to ignore that she might be doing this because she can't watch Ethan move on with his life in a very definite way and be happy for him.

Is he supposed to be her distraction from the pain?

"Who said anything about IVF? We could have sex, right here, right now. Repeat it a few times to be sure over the next week and that's all. After that, no sex or romantic feelings. We'd be co-parenting, and if we meet someone else along the way, we'll figure it out as we go."

And maybe he's had more than a sip, perhaps even a whole bottle if he's seriously considering her offer, but then again, he's drunk off her. He's in love with her and he has been for ten years and she's giving him a chance to have her, even if it's for a week, and a chance to be in her life for as long as they both live. Perhaps it's nothing compared to what he wished for, but it's undeniably everything in this particular moment where her bare thigh is rubbing against his and her palm is set on his arm, her eyes boring into his soul as her plump lips quiver with desire.

She's looking at him like she wants to do more than just make a baby - she's looking at him like a man she's passionately interested in and it's a look he's waited a lifetime to see in her eyes.

So, despite all reason and better judgement, Grayson smiles before pulling her onto his lap. "I'm in."

Resting her forehead on his, she draws in a shaky breath. "No strings attached?"

Reluctantly, he confirms. "No strings attached."

Little did they know they would be tangled in all the strings the moment their lips touch.

That first taste of his lips made her heart shiver, her hands shaky as his fill up with her ass, feeling him squeeze as his tongue swipes her bottom lip. Wasting no time, she grants him access, pushing down on his lap until his hard-on pressed against her inner thigh and she can't help the moan that passes her lips nor the brazen curiosity her hands indulge in. Her palms travel down his chest, her left one remaining on his neck as the right one continues on its journey to his hardened member, drawing in a deep breath as his hands move up to the small of her back, warm against her skin.

"So warm." She managed to mumble against his lips, her hand finally reaching his aching bulge, hastily palming him until he breaks their kiss, groaning with unrestrained desire and his control wavers.

"A-are you sure? We still have time to stop and just watch a movie." No matter how it pained him, Grayson couldn't go through with it without making sure she's not going to regret it. He didn't want to be the guy that used her in a vulnerable state and he never wanted to taint the friendship they had before he tasted her lips for the first time in his life. And just one taste of her was enough to mark him hers. He couldn't get enough.

Pausing, she cups his cheeks and bores her eyes in his, the clock ticking in the background only sound beside their strained breaths filling the silence. She couldn't believe he doubted her, although she understood why he's apprehensive.

For a moment, Y/N worried he may find her unattractive, or someone already tarnished due to her relationship with his brother and yet, when she looked into his chocolate brown eyes, Y/N only saw concern for her. He cares enough to handle blue balls if she's in any way doubtful of their unexpected actions. But then again, somehow, Y/N found it as anything but unexpected.

"Never been as sure as I am now."

Reconnecting their lips again, she found herself immersed in him, fully lost and consumed by no one but Grayson Dolan. His hands on her body, his tongue locked in an intense, fiery tango with hers, his penis already visible through his briefs and her own unquenchable desire and longing taking over as she pulls her shirt up, breaking the kiss long enough to pull it off her head and reveal her breasts - nipples hard and ready just as she is.

If there's anything she's sure of is that all her sense of self disappeared when his mouth captured her left breast, his hands slipping past her waistband, flicking her clit as soft moans betray her pleasurable need for him.

"I can't", she shuddered, breathing hard as his open mouthed kisses left a burning trail on her collarbone and she knew she was done for.

"Please, Gray." She struggled to keep herself sane as his fingers picked up speed and a scream erupted from deep inside her chest and he smirked against her neck. Sensitive, needy and ready to comply, she leaned her head on his shoulder while he worked his magic.

"Tell me. Tell me what you want." He teased her, slowly building her up to her first orgasm and he wanted her shaking and wet when he starts having his way with her. She would surely need it.

"You. I. I want you. Inside me. Take me, please." She pleaded, her eyes closed as he picks her up and moves toward the bed, her legs wrapped around him as she rubs herself against him for friction though he didn't stop his hands from making her moan. Try as she might, she couldn't hold them back.

Placing her on the mattress, he smirked before lowering his head to her thighs, gripping her lacy green panties with his teeth before ripping them in a single move. He craved to see them, but the satisfaction he got from tearing them off her was unparalleled.

"What?!" She didn't get to scold him for his lips have found their way onto her sensitive nerve bundle, sucking as his fingers delved inside where she needed him the most. Her hands weaved in his hair, pulling at the stray locks with quivering in her lower abdomen as her breathing became short, coming in gasps of pure ecstasy and her thighs trembled as Grayson's hands gripped her hips and kept her in place when she tried to move away. She pulled at his hair a little too hard, but Grayson didn't mind - loss of control means she's lost in the feelings he had provided her with, only fueling his unbelievable thirst for her solicited moans he only ever heard in his dreams or something close to them whenever she ate something she really liked.

He's relentless, unforgiving and a generous lover and while her mind is forming incoherent thoughts about all the unforgettable ways his tongue moves, all she can say is his name - fervently, unapologetically screaming his name as her orgasm makes her lose all control and instead of simply enjoying the entrancing beauty of the moment his name falls from her lips and her body shakes in his arms, Grayson frees his dick at last, nearly crying out once he pushes himself inside, catching the last wave of her clenching walls, enjoying how firmly her hands grip his arms as he slowly fills her up.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers in her ear as he pauses for her to adjust, slowly inching his way inside her until she's all full and even she can tell it will be a hot minute before he bottoms out.

“So, so perfect.”

Her mind is a little clearer, too aware of his wet lips at her jaw, littering her with kisses as his body weight presses her further into the mattress. She's hooking her leg around his waist, aiding him in his effort to bring her to a new orgasm once again, the new one hopefully fruitful for them both. Her arms fold around him, bringing him closer until his chest falls on hers, no room left between them - their hearts wildly beating fast, allowing them to feel every beat as Grayson lift his head up and their eyes meet again.

Sliding further inside, her mouth falls open as a sigh leaves her involuntarily, making him smirk vainly and the smugness in his eyes only made him more appealing.

It was impossible to ignore how intimate the moment is, how neither of them want to part. Had it been a simple 'let's have a baby' deal, it would have been all business, in and out in minutes, but this was all pleasure and they both knew it. And this was a first for both of them in a sense – their first time without condoms, feeling their partner without any barriers.

"Are you in?" She couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, the liquid courage gone as he holds her in his embrace - bare in every sense of the word, but she trusts him with all her heart.

"Not yet." Grayson chuckles when her eyes widen at his statement, aware she's thinking about how big he is and how she's probably worried he wouldn't fit but as he adjusts and slides in further, finally bottomed out, he smirks when she gasp at the slight thrust. Pecking the left corner of her lips, their noses brush together as he whispers.

"Now I am." That's when he's moving, leisurely with confidence, building her back up only to stop and make her whimper and he couldn't help but feel proud he's managed to get her to ask for more...to ask for him.

"Gosh, you're such a tease!" She exclaimed, half out of her mind as her hands grip his ass to control his speed and depth and still, he's unmovable, cocky and yet too afraid of losing the reigns of himself. He can't act anymore, no pretense left.

This night has been everything he wanted for so long that he can't even hide it. It's in his eyes, on his lips, in the gentle touch of his fingertips on her skin and the strength of his arms around her, but the way he's taking his time and making every moment count for her? It's proof enough that this is more than a casual fuck.

"What's so wrong in never wanting this to end?"

But she can't hide it either, his words had undone the last of her restraints. He can see it in the way she pushes his matted hair back from his face to better look into his warm, loving eyes, in her genuine smiles, the way she pulls him close and won't let up or the way she says his name as if it's her favorite word.

Y/N realized she would never quite be able to forget the way he makes her feel after years of pushing down feelings she told herself are forbidden - that she had loved him first, before Ethan, before anyone else - terrified to remember, forbidden to forget.

She did it for Ethan, but now? She had no reason to hide.

And as the moment passed, urgency took over and Grayson no longer held back. Long, fast strokes replaced the slow, gentle ones and neither of them could think any longer. Forgoing everything, their moans and grunts and whimpers filled the room as Grayson pounded into her and while she loved when he was gentle with her, she couldn't get enough his rougher, harder way to get her to the finish line.

He gripped at every part of her he could get while she held onto him for dear life, her nails making marks as she finished first but he wasn't too far behind. Once he felt her walls clenching once again and the warmth enveloping him, he was faster, jerkier and insatiable. Biting into his shoulder as her orgasm shook loose all the feelings she kept hidden, Grayson finally came inside, filling her up as he laid on top of her, keeping his weight off with his elbows.

"Don't move." She whispered in his ear, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of her neck as he came down from his high, sweaty and pleasantly exhausted, but already craving the next time.

And even when he went limp inside, pulling out, Grayson’s head remained on her chest as she played with his hair, falling asleep to the sound of her heartbeat.

When morning came and her eyes opened, the night before was just a haze. An arm wrapped around her weights her down - it offers warmth, intimacy, a sense of belonging. It's there to remind her what she thought was just a dream - a deal she had made with her best friend that didn't have too much to do with the excuse she used but a genuine question she needed an answer to - what if she was always chasing the wrong brother?

After all, it was Grayson she met first, found handsome and sexy as hell enough to agree to cook him dinner in his own home. She wanted him to make a move so bad, to grab her and kiss her but he never did and Ethan wasn't shy about the attention he gave her. She was reluctant at first, holding off on agreeing to even a date with Ethan until she lost hope. So if Grayson didn't like her even though she had given him more than one chance to say or do something, Ethan did. She waited too long for him to stop her from going out with his twin.

He never did.

"Since you're vegan, I made you vegetable soup and pasta and a carrot cake, all vegan of course." She's perky, excited and a tad shy about the food she placed before him. The worry behind her eyes over his silence had alerted him to smile, widely and with heart.

"I love it." He exclaimed, making her give him a pointed look.

"You didn't even try it yet." She chuckled when he shrugged and started tasting everything.

"I love it and I tasted it all too!!" It was hard not to enjoy Grayson's company, it was all easy as breathing with him. Such a rare feeling in this world, yet one she promised herself would remain in her life in any shape or form.

And by the end of their dinner, it was already too late. Or so Grayson thought because the moment Ethan walked in and sat next to the girl he believed was on a date with, the atmosphere change had made Grayson dejected and he felt like the third wheel.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Ethan asked her and Grayson wanted to snort before shooing him away, especially when he saw Y/N look at his brother in disbelief.

"No." She replied, raising an eyebrow when Ethan suddenly stood up and left. Glancing at Grayson, Y/N silently wondered what the hell happened only to be interrupted when Ethan took the chair on her other side and flashed her a charming smile.

"What about second look?"

And when Y/N laughed out loud, first real laughter Grayson heard, it was for his brother, not him. Ethan was always the more charming one, the one who attracts girls without trying and soon after, he'd watch his brother take the only girl he ever wanted and he witnessed how he broke her heart as well.

But the night they just spent together reminded her of the sadness she felt when it became clear Grayson wouldn't be the brother she ends up with back then. She loved Ethan, still does, but it will never change that longing she always had for the younger Dolan.

Grayson felt her stir under his arm, his eyes fluttering open with a smile as he found his face is buried in her hair and the heavenly lilac scent invading his senses is hers. Memories of the night before had made his morning wood that much worse and while he wanted more than anything to just slide back in between her folds, he couldn't make things awkward in case she's changed her mind.

He still remembers when he found out she was going out with Ethan, not him, making him wonder if he was always just meant to be a bridge that binds them together. He wondered if he'd be able to watch them fall in love and maybe even get married, but it didn't feel like he has a choice.

"Can I talk to you about something?" He could tell she's serious and tormented about the subject at hand, confusing him from the start. It's only been three months since they met and she's become his favorite person within the first hour of knowing her but he feared she'd be bored of him soon and there wasn't much he couldn't handle, but that would definitely leave a mark.

"Sure." Instead of smiling, Grayson grimaced involuntarily, making her frown as she sat beside him, a little stiffer than she usually acts around him.

"It's about your brother." She started and Grayson groaned immediately.

"What did he do?!"

"He asked me out...again." She chuckled at the last bit, shyly looking at her fidgety hands in her lap, unable to meet his eyes.

"I'm thinking about accepting." She sighed, forcing herself to face Grayson, anticipating anger or a jealous fit, anything to prove he cares, yet all he did was swallow thickly, loud enough for her to hear as he scratched his forehead absentmindedly.

"Didn't realize you guys were getting so close." Grayson tried to remain calm, not to lash out because this girl is beautiful, funny, clever and while she's incredibly strong she seems painfully vulnerable and he didn't want to scare her.

"We're not, but he's persistent and I'm out of excuses." She shrugged, deciding not to tell him about the way Ethan makes her feel. It wasn't exactly the same as Grayson, but he was witty and charming and handsome and willing to actually love her and she couldn't wait around for Grayson to remove her from the friendzone forever.

"I'll tell him no if you can give me one reason not to do this." Hopeful, she placed her hand on his knee and waited for the youngest Dolan to speak up and claim her for himself. She waited for him to tell her he loves her and he never wants to be without her...hell, she'd settle for him saying he likes her, but he remained silent and Ethan arrived just in time.

"Hey." Ethan smiled widely, his arm outstretched as his hand opened for her to take and with a final glance, she turned to Grayson in anticipation of any action that would give her an excuse to stay. But nothing happened.

"Hey." She smiled back at Ethan, taking her hand from Grayson's knee and placing it in Ethan's hand reluctantly.

From that moment on, she promised herself to stop her silly fantasies about Grayson, to stop reading too much into his lingering looks or continuous touches and flirting and all the times he had made her heart skip a beat. She promised herself she'd give Ethan a chance and as she departed with him, she did not look back. And she wouldn't for the next ten years, but for Grayson that moment was different.

When her hand left his knee, the cold that settled in had left him craving that warmth for the next ten years - yearning for her touch as much as he does for a fresh breath of air, forever wondering what Ethan had that he didn't. And it wouldn't be the last time he sees them walking away together, the only difference is the distance between them as they do. With time, they grew closer, no longer simply walking side by side but they'd have their arms around one another, they'd kiss, or playfully push around or chase each other and laugh until they both cried. It happened slowly, but it took her away from him, piece by piece until she was truly happy with Ethan, her feelings real and her dreams changed to fit the man she's with.

"Morning." He whispered in her hair, careful just in case she's still asleep so he wouldn't wake her. However, the moment he speaks is pivotal for her, making her turn in his embrace a little too excitedly with a perky smile upon her lips.

"Morning." She smiles at him with glee, throwing her leg over him shamelessly as she brings herself closer to him.

"Woah. Thought you're not a morning person?" Grayson chuckles, his raspy morning voice making her horny all over again and she has trouble stopping herself from initiating anything again.

"Maybe I just had no one to be a morning person with." She challenges, but it only reminded her of Ethan, the grumpier twin that never liked mornings and could only ever be swayed into getting up earlier if she woke him up with kisses or possibly even morning sex.

"Interesting." Grayson raised his eyebrow, ignoring the implication of her words before his hand settled on her hip, finding his fingertips formed bruises.

"Fuck, did I do that?!” Pulling the covers off, Grayson scanned her body carefully with disgust for himself, ignoring her squeal. Despite being bold and freaky in the sheets the night before, Y/N couldn’t help the insecurities flooding her when Grayson got a good view of every single one of her imperfections under the unforgiving morning sun. She wondered if the disgust on his face is because of her belly rolls because she always struggled with her weight which also showed in the stretchmarks and cellulite some men found unappealing and she felt tears prick her eyes as his gaze lingered on certain parts of her body.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you. I swear I’ll be more careful next time.” Those words flew from his mouth before he had a chance to think of the implications. Next time means he wanted to be with her again, to take her as shamelessly as he did the night before but it also meant he was feeling guilty, maybe even remorseful.

“I’m not.” Interrupting his self-pity party, Y/N propped herself up on her elbows and smiled softly, her eyes taking his beauty in because as unforgiving as the morning sun may be on her, it’s definitely illuminating on him. The sun favors him for sure.

“I’m not sorry because you made me feel attractive, needed, loved. I’m not sorry because when you looked at me just now, it wasn’t because you wanted to see the weird moles I may have or the stretchmarks, but for possible signs you hurt me. When you only made me so, so happy.” Sitting up on her knees, her palms find their way onto his abs, trailing his skin with her thumbs as the rest of her fingers grab hold of him and pull him toward her.

“I’m your best friend and I might be carrying your child now. Trust me when I say that there isn’t anything I regret about last night. If anything, the bruises mean we had more fun than we anticipated.” She shrugs coyly, kinking an eyebrow until he finally bestows one smile upon her.

“It was more than just fun.” Grayson notes and she nods. She loved how his words disturbed the rhythm of her pulse. There was never a simple moment between the two of them, always carrying emotions too strong for them to ignore.

“I can tell. Your dick is sort of in my face.” She chuckles, glancing at his red tip already up for the job she absolutely hoped he’d take up.

Crimson cheeks that flushed with blood were enough for Y/N to realize Grayson feels too ashamed to ask so before he manages to say a single word, her tongue laps his tip and a strangled moan escapes him.

Smirking, a little braver, her hand wraps around his shaft, moving up and down with circular motion, her tongue teasing him as her best friend becomes undone, just as he did for her last night. She couldn’t help herself, desperate to hear his moans once again but to have him inside as well.

Pursing her lips slightly, she looks up with her doe eyes, moaning as she opens her mouth and lazily takes just the tip. She hollows out her cheeks around him, and he takes in a shaky breath. His breathing is fast, and she watches him as his eyes close and his head falls back, panting softly as she bobs her head up and down, trying to take as much as she can while moaning herself. Hearing him moan felt almost as good as sex.

“I can’t. You’re. Driving. Me. Crazy.” Grayson says between his shallow breaths, half thinking he should be looking for his inhaler instead of losing his patience. He teased her the night before and now she’s punishing him and he’s not ashamed to admit he doesn’t have it in him to persevere. So, when it feels like his heart will burst, Grayson pulls back before moving in on her without reserve.

“You think that was funny, don’t you?” His snappy attitude only makes it more amusing as she licks her lips and smiles, evident she had every intention of torturing him for a long period of time. Much longer than he could withstand.

“Next time you want to try that, make sure I’m tied down and unable to escape.” Grayson growls before pushing her back down on the mattress and she giggles because she got exactly what she wanted – for him to relinquish control and fuck her into the mattress like there’s no tomorrow.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She winks as his lips hover above hers. He rubs his cock over her entrance, playing with the wetness, and she gasps and shudders when he rubs it over her clit.

“I’d be careful about starting games you can’t finish.” With that warning, he smiles arrogantly, and slowly pushes his head in. Kissing her hungrily, hard enough that she imagined he’d bruise her lips too.

She wasted no time in spreading her legs further to help him adjust. He slowly makes his way in, breaking the kiss only to let himself groan into the crook of her neck, pecking every inch of skin he could get close to. She was tighter than he anticipated, a little harder to penetrate than the night before but she was still willing as her patience resolved and she pushed herself up, switching their places.

A little wild and unexpected, but she made him fall hard. The view before him only made his breathing shallow, panting as she took it upon herself to impale herself fully until she cried out softly.

“Are you okay?” Grayson struggled to speak as his breath turned ragged, making her worry more.

“Should have trusted the speed you were going with.” She managed a smile for him, starting to move on top of him as his hands gripped her hips again and she whimpered when his fingers found their match on the bruises he left behind. However, as she moved, Grayson’s guidance became scarce and his grip weakened when his breathing got louder, enough to make her open her eyes and look at the stubborn man under her who valued pleasure over his ability to breathe.

“You need your inhaler.” She concluded, reaching over him to the nightstand he left it on last night since he needed it after they were done too.

Handing him the inhaler, Grayson took a few puffs before tossing it aside, flipping her back under him so quickly she squealed in surprise.

“Thanks, love. Now, let me have my way with you.” He thrusts fast inside her, pulling out halfway and pushing back into her, holding her hips with a strong grip. His strokes are getting more erratic, faster and harder than before. He pumps fast and hard, with reckless abandon for a few moments before his fingers make play with her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips up to meet every thrust he makes until it drove them to the edge of madness.

He grabs a fist full of the bedspread as he shudders, feeling her cum and scream his name pushing him over the edge as well, ending their insatiable desire for a little while – enough for them to eat something.

He plants kisses to the inside of her knees, and she giggles, pulling them away. He smiles at her, pulling himself up before collapsing beside her, both breathing heavily, happily exhausted as they stare at one another – sweaty, messy hair and lazy smiles on both their faces.

But then the phone rings, interrupting the moment of comfortable silence.

“Ignore it.” She urges him, but the incessant ringing is making them both nervous.

“What if something happened?” Grayson bites his bottom lip before reaching out to see who is calling, finding his mother’s name on the screen. After all, he didn’t come home at all and she had the right to worry about her son.

“Answer it.” Y/N encourages him, aware that she can’t hold him in that room indefinitely, though she wishes she could.

“Hello?” Y/N watched him nod, changing his facial expressions every few seconds.

“I stayed with Y/N. I really don’t want to come today.” Grayson rolls his eyes and Y/N slaps his arm for being rude, even if his mother couldn’t see him.

“No. I’m not. I don’t care.” Groaning, he tossed the phone aside, sitting up with his hands in his hair and a frown etched on his face.

“Everything alright?” Her voice is gentle, soothing, a comforting note in the mess his head’s in.

“Ethan and Kristina are having a lunch for close family and they want me to come and I really don’t want to go.” Grayson explains, sighing as Y/N drapes her arms around him, her hands clasping before him as she leans almost entirely on his back, her head resting on his shoulder as her face is turned to him, pecking his cheek.

“Go. He’s your brother. You should be there for him.” Y/N’s words make sense, but Grayson didn’t want to leave her alone. He didn’t want to spend a single minute away from her. Her touch kept him sane and the way her body fit his perfectly would haunt him whenever she wasn’t with him. He just knew it.

“Not without you. I…If we leave this room, it just feels…definite. Like, all the memories we made will have been for nothing and when that happens, you won’t be mine.” Swallowing thickly, Y/N understood perfectly what he means by that. In this moment, they’re in a protected bubble of their own and although they didn’t say it, it has nothing to do with the deal they made but actual feelings that had been long buried finally came to life. Leaving their bubble might make it all go away. She feared it too.

“If I agree to go…we need to talk first. Like…what are we going to tell them when I get pregnant?” She raised an eyebrow as his hands gripped hers, pulling them apart before swiftly pulling her under his arm and onto his lap.

“I want to say we dated. At least for a little while.” No. He wanted to ask her to date him now. He wanted to ask her to be his, but she said no strings attached and he had no right to go back on that unless she asked him to.

“Okay. But Ethan might be an issue. You two basically lived together.” She reminds him, trying to keep a faint smile present though she wished he’d just stop this nonsense and tell her he wants her.

Does he not feel the magnetic force they’ve been brought together with?

Does he not feel how they’re made for each other?

She wished she could go back and ignore the no strings attached clause in their little agreement because she wanted all of him, all the strings attached.

“We spent weeks apart. I’ll just say it felt awkward and we wanted to be low-key but the pregnancy caught us by surprise.” He’s making these lies up too quickly, too well for her to ignore and she can’t help but wonder how he became a good liar. The Grayson she remembers had always been easy to read but he felt different now.

“Okay.” She hums in response, struggling to ignore his penis brushing against her bare ass.

“I need a shower.” She states, noticing him wiggle his eyebrows. “What?”

“Wanna save some water and shower together?” And while he’s cheesy as hell, she couldn’t help but love it – love him.

“Mom, dad, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.” Y/N had been dreading this moment for months, ever since she realized Ethan is serious about her and his jokes about her meeting his parents were anything but jokes.

“You’re beautiful.” Cameron noted, furrowing her eyebrows before looking at Ethan. “How did you trick her into dating you?”

And while the day went off without a hitch, his parents loving her, Y/N couldn’t help but worry she didn’t really fit in. She worried they pretended to like her, for Ethan’s sake.

“She’s a great girl. Why are you so worried?” Y/N hid as she heard Ethan’s parents talk in hushed voices, realizing it’s about her and while it seemed she had the support of his father, his mother wasn’t as happy.

“She’s great. But I feel she’s more suited for Grayson that Ethan. That’s all.”

It’s been a very long time since the moment Y/N hid in the shed while she heard Ethan’s mother say she’s not confident she should be with her son. It was never that she didn’t like her, she just didn’t find her to be right for Ethan. She wondered how she accepted Kristina, if she ever thought she wasn’t the one for Ethan too. However, she remained grateful to his father for being her defender. He had faith in them and she still remembers Ethan telling him he would marry her one day.

But that never came to be and while it hurt yesterday, she felt at peace with that now. Grayson reminded her of things she forgot along the way and she couldn’t hold it against Lisa any longer because she was right – she wasn’t enough, she wasn’t the one for her son. But Grayson? She really hoped she would be.

“Ready?” Grayson’s voice broke her out of her trance, making her heart jump. Drawing in a deep breath, she nods before hooking her arm with Grayson’s.

However, when they got inside, they found there was no party at all.

“Ma?” Grayson called out for his mother but she wasn’t the one to appear.

“Our flight is earlier than expected.” Ethan leaned on the wall, eyeing the pair suspiciously. “The party is canceled. Mom went with Kris and Cam to buy some last minute necessities.”

Making brief eye contact, Y/N looked away swiftly to hide her true emotions. Ethan always said cheeky was good and allowed her the freedom to be herself. They laughed so much, even in the most inappropriate times, but of everything they ever did, it was looking in his eyes she loved the most. That's all they ever needed to connect, just them, just eyes, no words. So yes, she avoided his gaze like the plague.

“In that case, we should go.” Grayson clears the tension, hating how even after last night and that morning where he claimed her as his, Ethan could just look at her and she’d be lost to him.

“So soon?” Ethan quipped, pursing his lips because he felt something’s askew.

“Y/N’s going back to L.A. soon and I want to spend all the time we have together.” Grayson remarked, taking her hand in his before pulling her back with him, slowly but firmly.

“Have fun on your honeymoon. With your wife.” Grayson adds for good measure, reminding both Ethan and Y/N why it’s best they leave.

Taking her out of there, his hand on her lower back, Grayson made sure he was fast and he left no room for Ethan to make a play on her emotions.

“I’m fine.” She tells him before he has a chance to ask, basking in her glorious smile right after for she holds his hand tenderly and pulls him closer, her other hand grasping his shirt to pull him down and meet her brazen lips.

Without complaints, Grayson accepts her supple lips and closes his eyes to fully enjoy the moment, blind to more than one spectator for his mother, sister and sister in law arrived shortly as their kiss consumed them, but the pair paid no mind to the world around them as they parted and got into the car with one goal in mind – hotel room, no clothes and a lot of screaming and laughing for days to come.

Barely leaving the room, Grayson and Y/N enjoyed each other’s company. She had found herself happily nuzzled in his side regardless if it’s to steal a kiss, make him smile or simply to rest her head as they watch a movie. There appeared to be no limit to their attraction nor their need to taste each other. Grayson loved discovering every inch of her skin, as if he is mapping her body to commit to memory.

“Do you really have to go?” He whines, his face buried in between her breasts, leaving open mouth kisses along her sternum.

“I have a job to get back to. But you’re gonna be there in a month too and we’ll know if this worked or not by then.” She smiles as he huffs, playing with his hair – wrapping every lock around her fingertips.

“Don’t take the test before I come.” He pleads, but she agrees far too quickly.

“Unless I get symptoms, I won’t.” She sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I never had to leave this room.”

“Me too.” He whispers softly, looking up at her with adoration in his eyes. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

And while he said it would be a month when they parted with one last kiss at the airport, Grayson already started to scheme how to shorten that time and go see the woman he was convinced is pregnant with his baby. He felt it in his bones and he couldn’t wait for a full month.

So, he made different preparations instead – he made room for himself in the Los Angeles branch of the company he and Ethan ran from New Jersey, making sure he’d be there with her every step of the beautiful journey. And he had every intention of making her his, permanently, in that time as well.

Little did he know when he arrives there in twenty days, he’d find his Y/N on a date with someone else.

When he saw her hug another, his heart cracked and he felt his chest constrict. Grayson holds his breath behind pursed lips, his hands forming fists to stop the shaking. She wraps herself around him, too close for his liking and he can’t help but wonder if their time together really meant nothing to her at all. He had hoped she’d abolish the no strings rule, but he felt silly now. She’s gazing through her overly made-up eyes with her cloying vapidity, simpering softly until he tells a joke. Then she giggles like she's a child, slapping his chest playfully while Grayson is stuck in the background, watching her with someone new…or perhaps it’s someone old she never told him about.

He can't say anything about it, to do so will put their friendship at risk, and that is something he won't do. Friends like her don't come along too often. But then again, can he ever go back to just friends after he’s had her in every imaginable way? Friends don’t know how you taste and he knew every inch of her skin. He knew her.

Clearing his throat, Grayson decided not to be a bystander again. He would never sit back and watch her leave with another man again and if he has to, he will fight for her love. This won’t be history repeating itself – he vowed it before walking toward them in strides, to make sure the hug is the only intimacy they have time for.

“GRAYSON?!” Before he can even make his presence known, Y/N catches him from the corner of her eye as he approaches, pushing away the other guy in her excitement only to run straight for her best friend, jumping into his embrace unexpectedly enough to make Grayson stumble upon impact.

“OOf! Slow down, love.” Grayson’s jealousy subsides long enough for him to wrap his arms around her, pressing her closer until he can hardly breathe but air is the last thing he needs now. All he needs is her and that flowery scent of her beautiful hair as he’s once again buried in it.

“SHUT UP!” She yelled, making him wince because she quite literally screamed in his ear but he smiles nonetheless. “I missed you so much.” Whispering softly, she hugs him tighter and he’s certain his lungs are no longer able to expand but it feel so, so good to have her return the emotions he’s been carrying around. It was insufferable to be apart from her, but the feeling of having her back in his arms couldn’t be described by any earthly words.

“Should I go?” The stranger Grayson forgot about had spoken up, making Y/N’s eyes widen before her hold on Grayson relents and she’s stepping back a moment later with a shy smile upon her lips.

“Yeah. I think that’s best.” Pressing her lips together, she waves the man goodbye as he shakes his head in disbelief, turns on his heel and walks away and maybe it’s because Grayson expected an altercation or because he needed it for his own ego boost, but he was disappointed... And a little too happy he was her obvious choice.

“Come on.” Tugging him by his arm, Y/N drags Grayson inside and while she wanted to be the innocent best friend he’s used to, she couldn’t wait long before she had him alone.

“So, uh…Who is that guy?” Grayson didn’t waste time. While Y/N planned to toss her clothes aside and make his jaw drop, Grayson shrugged his jacket off and shoes next, starting up what she hoped he’d ignore. But then again, discretion was never his strong suit.

“Are you? Jealous?" She teased with a cocky smirk upon her rosy lips, drawing him near with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head. Would it be smart to come clean so soon?

"Maybe. It's just...weird." Gulping, Grayson pulls away, something he never imagined he'd do. Whenever she’s a part of the equation, he only ever saw himself being impossibly close to her but now? He couldn’t let her just blatantly ignore his concern.

"Why?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she frowned, praying she's hiding the hurt of rejection well enough not to be caught by him, the man who knows her best.

"Because you might be pregnant and I really want this pregnancy to be our time. To be just us." Pressing his lips together, Grayson drops his gaze, his mind made up though his heart isn't. "But if you want to date I won't stop you."

But she didn't want to. Not at all. She wanted Grayson and perhaps that's why she decided to tell a white lie.

“I never even kissed the guy. He’s got a thing for me, but he just walked me back after work. It’s nothing important.” But that wasn’t the lie she planned to tell.

"I lied. I took the test and it was negative." She promised him she'd wait for him and she did, but she can't risk losing him yet. She needs more nights lost in him, drunk on his cologne and sloppy kisses. She isn't ready to let him go.

"Oh. I guess we need to keep trying. If that's what you want?" Fighting a smile despite his initial disappointment, Grayson took one step closer as her encouraging smile warmed his insides.

"Guess we should. How about we resume here? Now?" The best relationships are often when people are not the same, yet complimentary, each bringing qualities that help the other. This felt like that – they had the important things in common but they have always been different enough to make their lives exciting. So when she cocks her head to the side, giving him access to her neck, Grayson is quick to respond and latch his lips just over her sweet spot, relishing in the moan it elicited.

But it didn’t stop that night. It felt like New Jersey all over again – every moment they could spend together was filled with romance, dates, stolen kisses in public and openly sensual kisses in private. He drove her mad with every touch while she put his worries at ease with every kiss. While she sought an adventure filled life he provides, he wanted a woman that made him giddy with every new sunrise by her side.

From their beach dates to the late night dancing barefoot in the kitchen, stargazing and dinners and movies, to driving around just screaming to their favorite songs like they’re teenagers again. They wasted so much time…So many years they could have been happy were gone, but neither would ever let another moment slip away. So they used the passing months wisely, catching up on everything.

“Can you come home?” She left the message on his voicemail, unintentionally calling her apartment home and to some degree it’s become one. Grayson never found a place to stay since he was renting the house he and Ethan used to live in and she never wanted him to. But today, she needed him. Though he told her he’s going to be in meetings all day, Y/N was hoping he’d see her message and drop everything.

Realizing how selfish her thoughts are, she shakes her head before sighing. Anxiously looking at the pregnancy test in her hand, she toys with the idea of taking it alone and surprising him with it later. She figured maybe it wasn’t really positive and she just ate something bad. Besides, she had some blood on her panties a few weeks ago and while it wasn’t a normal period, blood is blood. Right?

Luckily, she didn’t have to deliberate for long. They always joked about how Grayson could feel whenever she needed him but it always proved to be true. Even now, without even thinking twice about it, he had showed up for her with a box of chocolates she adored.

“What’s the emergency?” Grayson worried because every time he felt her distress in the past, he found her either heartbroken over a guy or there was a death in the family – even if that one time it was a pet fish she grieved for.

“Oh.” Swallowing thickly, Grayson found the reason before she uttered a single word. “Did you take it?” His curiosity was strong, but his furrowed eyebrows showed just how it put him on edge too. If she’s pregnant, does it mean they no longer need to sleep together?

Did it mean she was once again off limits? Deep down, they both hoped it would be a negative, just so they could keep up their no strings attached relationship without putting their friendship at risk but what’s the point?

Are they not past that stage? Neither of them has guts to ask. Not even Grayson, even though he’s always been great in communicating his feelings with her, if his actual feelings for her didn’t count.

“No. I wanted to do this with you. Plus, I threw up this morning…three times…because of chicken.” His eyes show the kind of gentle concern she’s unaccustomed to. He lays his hand lightly on her shoulder, and instead of flinching like she usually does with others, she’s soothed by it. He leaves his hand there and speaks with such a soft voice that his words calm her more by the way they are said than the actual words.

“I’m here. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there. Whatever you need.” It feels as if she’s wrapped in a blanket of his caring. How could she be scared of losing him when he’s never once left her side? How can she not consider her actions now when she could see how profoundly they affect him too? He’s always going to be the one. Perhaps it was Ethan for her teenage self, the woman she forced herself to be back then but it’s Grayson now…maybe it always was.

“I love you.” She whispers, terrified when his face falls and his eyes widen. She can feel the fear in her chest waiting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect her from more pain but there really isn't any danger. It sits there like an angry ball propelling her towards an anxiety she just doesn't need. 

It’s Grayson, he won’t hurt her.

Or so she tells herself.

“I’m in love with you.” She clarifies, her lips quivering as she speaks and he can’t believe the words he waited his whole life to hear are finally spoken.

“I waited my whole life to hear that.” Grayson’s lips twitch as a smile creeps up on his face, removing the serious man he was moments before and he can’t help but giggle like a baby when she pecks his nose – quickly as if she’s suddenly shy before him, as if he doesn’t know her body, movements and even the slightest changes in her facial expressions. He’s always known her better than anyone.

“I love you too. So fucking much…for so long.” He admits, eyes filled with tears as she too starts to cry from happiness.

“And I’m pretty sure we’ll have a baby.” She adds, waving her hands before her face to stop her makeup from spilling down her cheeks, but her smile never falters. Her eyes hold so many emotions at once, but her smile has only one purpose – to make him forget about all the worries he carries with him in the outside world.

“Let’s find out!” She scrambles to her feet, running into the bathroom as he watches her in complete bliss, happiest he’s ever been. She’s closing the door slowly, teasingly, keeping her eyes on him all the way before they’re shut and he can’t help but laugh when he hears her open the tap, aware she’s got a shy bladder and him being able to hear her is making it harder for her to pee.

He finally had an inner happiness, one utterly independent of the outside world. She smiled like it burst from within instead of being worn like an obligation in the way others did and Grayson never felt as grateful as he did just now, aware her smile will be a permanent presence in his life.

“It’s done.” She walks out with a slight spring to her step, holding the stick in her hand and she couldn’t stop her impatient pacing around Grayson, not even when he tried to pull her down to the bed with him. All he wanted was to kiss her and calm her as she does for him, but she needed this freak out. He understood that.

Glancing down, she huffed before her mind registered what her eyes caught sight of. There was an explosion in her brain - the good sort, the type that carries more possibilities than she could be conscious of, but there were hundreds of ideas of the future in that buzz of electricity... she could feel it. It was the calling card of adventure, of paths awaiting her feet. Whatever was ahead could be a great challenge, and there could be tears, but it was her adventure to take and so she smiled. After all, she wouldn’t be alone.

“It’s a positive.” She let the stick fall as Grayson stood up with his own emotions bubbling to the surface, allowing him to sweep her off the feet. Littering her neck with kisses, Grayson spun them around as she squealed, holding on tight with her legs wrapped around his waist.

Had someone told her she’s be in love with a baby on road five months ago when she attended Ethan’s wedding, she’d laugh at them. Not too long ago, she felt herself break for his twin only to realize she was in love with the wrong twin all along.

That night was different. She always felt Grayson put his emotions in every kiss and every move whenever they had sex, but the tenderness of their emotions being out in the open with the happy news overflowing their senses, it didn’t feel like sex. For the first time in her life she understood what it means to make love – to truly love someone with every part of your soul. She always kept some of her heart and soul for herself in past relationships, even with Ethan, but Grayson stole every last bit of her and yet she felt complete, fulfilled like never before.

That night felt right. He felt right.

“What will you tell your mom? Ethan?” She trails her fingers up and down his chest as his hand remains over her lower abdomen, hesitant to move an inch away just in case he feels something even though he knew it wasn’t likely.

“That I love you and you love me and we made ourselves a little miracle.” Grayson takes her wandering hand in his free one, pulling the back of it to his lips. As he leaves a lasting kiss, she grins but the thought of telling people still made her reluctant to leave the bed.

“I’m scared. They might hate me.” She admits sheepishly, looking up at him only to see his frown deepen.

“Ethan is married and my mom loves you. Cameron misses you too. It’s going to be fine and if it isn’t, I won’t let them make you sad. I’ll protect you.” Pecking her nose to seal his promise, he narrows his eyes in thought.

“You know what? I’ll text them all in the family group chat!” Grayson jumps from the bed, using the momentary shock to get away from Y/N before she shrieks. “It’s gonna be painless! I’ll send them a photo of the positive test to prepare them!” His explanation made no sense at all, of course, but he was fast, too fast for her to stop him.

“THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW WE’RE A THING!” She screams, her head in her hands as she blinks fast, trying to understand why he’s doing this but it’s not hard to forget his continuous talks about wanting to be a dad their whole friendship. It was something to boast about for him, but she was mortified. She respected his mother and she felt it was something she should learn of in person, but he had a different idea.

“Fuck.” Grayson’s eyes widen, aware she’s right but it was too late. He had pressed sent before his mind could take responsibility and control over his body and it took exactly ten seconds for his phone to explode because not only did he send it, but he posted it online.

“Why are you pale? You’re literally changing shades!” Y/N jumped too, worried his mother was already freaking out on them but as she looked at his phone and the frantic attempt he made to hide what he’s trying to delete, she realized he had made the entire world freak out.

“GRAYSON BAILEY DOLAN!”

Within hours, their secret was out. Even if he wasn’t a YouTube star anymore, the fan base remained loyal and the photo from his Snapchat was everywhere.

“Shower and get ready while I book us tickets home. Your mom deserves a real explanation.” Y/N ordered as she put her hair up in a tail and he knew better than to argue. After the lecture she held for hours with several mutual freak outs, he knew it was better to be quiet and just be glad she’s not leaving his ass.

Kissing her temple, he was surprised she didn’t push him away as it was the first physical contact they made since his mistake spread worldwide.

“You’re letting me touch you?” It passed his lips without thinking, making her turn to him and her hands quickly found their way to his face, pulling him down to her lips. It was a short kiss, but a reassuring one.

“I’m not sure who you’ve dated but I love you and I’m not going to torture you, okay? You made a big fucking mistake but it’s not something I’d hold over your head. Just get ready.” As he disappeared in the bathroom and turned the shower on, Y/N planned to book tickets and get ready too, but fate had different plans when her bell rang in a few minutes and she opened the door only to have the shock of a lifetime.

Heart beating frantically, she tried to compose herself in order to hide just how upsetting it is to find him there without even calling first. She didn’t need him showing up at her doorstep now…had he done it eight years ago when they broke up after their two year long relationship, maybe then she’d be happy. Now? It was unsettling.

"Why are you here, Ethan?" She frowned, her eyes hard and her jaw set, no room for forgiveness in her but he had to try. Walking past her and inside, he licks her lips before opening his mouth again. He knew he had to choose his words carefully.

"I'm here for you." He could hardly speak, his mouth dry and his hands shaky, feeling like a teenager once again. She always made his insides turn with every look and every smile, but this felt different. She was his judge and jury and he sure as hell committed a crime against her.

"You have a wife, Ethan. You married the girl you told me not to worry about!" Y/N reminds him, memories of their undoing running through her mind.

"Oh, you're gonna kiss her?" Y/N gnawed on the inside of her cheek anxiously, aware this isn't exactly cheating, so why did it hurt? Why did it feel like betrayal? Whenever she looked at her photos, she envied her looks. She looked gorgeous, legs for miles and perfect smile Y/N admired but also envied. Ethan’s fans always made sure she knew how their thought her smile is hideous and after a time, Y/N believed them. She stopped smiling with her teeth, hiding it with her hand whenever she could, never aware of Grayson’s sorrow with every hidden smile. But this girl had the smile they’d like. It’s the first thought that haunted her.

"Just for the video. It's all pretend and she's not even my type, okay? I tried getting Grayson to do it, but he's adamant about being behind the camera. Babe, you have nothing to worry about." Brushing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear, Ethan cupped her cheek with a tenderness she had a weakness for. He had the ability to drive her crazy with such simple tricks and she hated him for it. But she loved the way he’d look at her with care, as if she was the only girl he could see.

And she was. Little did she know, Ethan never loved another like her. Not before her and not after, but at the time, he never imagined he’d ever have to look into eyes that weren’t Y/N’s. She had made him thankful for being alive, for every moment and memory they made together. Memories that would later torment him.

"You can even come to the set if it will make you feel better." Ethan offered but she refused instantly. If she’s so beautiful in the photos, Y/N couldn’t handle her in person. It would be too hard to see Ethan, the man she loves so much, locking lips with another, a girl more suitable for him as his mother said.

"I love you, but I can't trust myself not to go feral on her." Y/N chuckled, but she meant it. How do people do this so easily? How can you separate what’s real and what’s acting when you’re immersed in a scene and the other person? Would Ethan be able to? She was most afraid he’d fall in love with the leggy model and she’d be yesterday’s news like people speculated since they went public. Sure, they never specified which model but they sure as hell weren’t shy about shipping him with every woman in the world beside her.

A few months later

"Hawaii?" Not only is it her dream place to visit, but also a chance to be with Ethan and make beautiful memories, but timing was killing her. She wished to spend the mornings at the beach with Grayson and waking Ethan later when she’s all wet from the ocean and having sex in the shower after. She wanted to run wild in the nature surrounding them, to feel rain on her skin as he makes a declaration of his undying love. She wanted to watch the sun set in his embrace and go skinny dipping under the cloak of night.

"I really can't. My cousin is having that surgery and I'm the only family member around that can take care of her. Damn it." Letting out a frustrated sigh, she threw herself on the bed with a dramatic flare she picked up from him. If anything, it’s true that people in relationships appropriate each other’s behaviors.

"That sucks." Ethan followed her move, but he truly felt sad she wouldn't join the trip. After everything he's been through with his family and losing himself in the past year he finally started to see the light at the end of the tunnel yet she was never waiting for him there. He woke up one day, finally feeling better and saw the distance between them and he feared what it would turn into if they don't reconnect. He easily forgot all the months she didn’t leave his side and her listening to every rant he could produce or her forgiving him every time he snapped at her. She was always there, but his insecurities had started to flood him and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’s avoiding spending time with him. He wondered if she loved him at all or if she found him to be the safe option – routine.

"You won't be alone. Grayson is gonna be there." She tried to cheer him up, unaware of the real list of all the people that would be going as well.

"And everyone else from the video. Plus some other friends." Ethan listed but all she heard was that Kristina would be there. She hated how deep it cut whenever her name came up, especially after the video went public and EVERYONE loved Ethan and Kristina as a couple. They made edits, videos, tagging Y/N in too many of them for her to really see them all but she saw enough. They made sure she knew she wasn’t good enough and they’d never accept her fully. He was always too good for her. At least in their eyes.

It wasn’t easy spending a week without him, complete radio silence. Knowing he was with her made her blood boil and her imagination wasn’t merciful either. But when he returned to her, it was with a smile and thoughtful gifts. As always, she couldn’t stay mad at him.

Soon after, Ethan had come to her with yet another dream trip planned out.

"But all my finals are during that time. I might have a week off for Christmas and New Year's but I'm swamped."

"It's fine." Ethan shrugged, aware there's no reason to fight. "I'll send you a ticked if you change your mind."

"You'll have Grayson. It’s gonna be awesome." Pecking his cheek, she leaned on his shoulder, suppressing the hurt of his continued choices of trips she wanted to take at times he knew she'd be too busy. Maybe it was a way for him to distance himself from her as he had been a bit snappy with every time she couldn’t show up for some gathering. Sometimes, she wondered if he was aware she wasn’t handed the world on a silver platter – she had to work, study, and tend to her family and friends too. He was finally doing better and she was ecstatic for him, but she couldn’t be his whole world.

"Kristina will pick us up!" Grayson screamed from somewhere inside the house, involuntarily adding fuel to the fire.

"She's gonna be there?!" And all her worst insecurities had resurfaced. Not only is he leaving to a different continent for a month or so, but he’d be there with the girl the world wants him with and at a time they seem to be struggling. Does she trust him? Yes. Can she say she’s not afraid he might break her trust? No.

"She's Australian and she’s gonna be there. So yeah." Ethan shrugs, lost to how it infuriates his girlfriend. He never did see the warning signs nor the way his fans’ comments tore her down and slowly scrapped her confidence to nothing. He had watched her light go out without ever doing anything to keep it safe.

"Is there a reason you keep taking trips with her whenever you know I can't leave LA?" She crossed her arms, standing up as her anger bubbled to the surface and her jealousy began to show. Accusations thrown were proof enough their relationship is crumbling, loss of trust filling the cracks left by their lack of communication and as time went by, they allowed the cracks to grow too big.

"No, but you're gonna find one." He grumbled and she only chuckled in disbelief.

"Nice. Turn it against me. Make me out to be the bad guy."

"Look, I can't keep doing this. Your unfounded jealousy is driving me nuts and if you can't trust me, why are we together?" He raised his voice but kept his cool, noticing her arms fall at her sides. It’s exactly what she always feared…he’d find a reason to cast her aside. All she could think is when did he last cry because she was hurt, or come running because he thought she needed help? He used to be so attentive and she understood when he needed to be cared for after his loss but he never really cared for her after that. She became the one making efforts to heal him while her own heart and mind were breaking in the process.

"Are you ending this? Leaving me?" She stumbled over her words as her heartbreak sounded like an explosion inside, making her legs weak.

"I'm saying I need a break. To think. To remind myself why we fell in love in the first place. You were supposed to be the one who stood by me forever and instead you are so mentally fragile that you can't believe in me against the smallest of whispers. But I stand by my offer. I'll send you a ticked if you want one."

Looking back at it now, Ethan knew it was mostly his own insecurities and depression talking and he hung around Kristina so much at first because he felt like that's the only time Y/N shows she cares for him. He had no idea he'd fuck up so bad. He had no idea he was breaking her to the point of no return and that he’d lose her forever.

"I know. But say the word and I'll leave her. We can try again. We can be what we should have been back then!" The way he talks is through his entire body, using his hands, facial expressions, every tool he can use to convince her, make her fall for him again.

"Like the tickets you promised to send me back then? The ones I never got?" And then it dawned on Ethan. Grayson told him he'd handle it. He sabotaged them.

“I asked Grayson to do it…I thought you had them and just didn’t want to come.” Ethan leaned back on the wall for support, wondering why his brother would ever do that to him when he knew Y/N was his sun back then. And even after.

“Right. Nice excuse there.”

“I’m not lying!” Ethan exclaims, shaking his head. “I’m not even sure where he is, but when I find him, I’ll kick his ass before finding out who’s the poor sap that let him impregnate her.” Ethan’s jaw clenches as he takes a step toward Y/N who reacted on instinct when she stepped back, her eyes relaying uncertainty she feels and the slightest bit of fear once she feels the alcohol on his breath.

“Just stay there.” She’s shaky, her mind running with a thousand worries and none of them are giving her room to breathe. Placing a hand over her lower abdomen, she turns her body sideways to protect her unborn child. She didn’t think he’d hurt her in any way, but she didn’t know him as well as she used to and alcohol was never a peaceful companion.

“I just want to hold you.” Ethan croaks, stepping closer when Grayson finally shows up.

“Stay away from her.” Getting in between them, Grayson shields Y/N from Ethan, holding Ethan’s gaze long enough to allow her to slip aside and take a deep breath. While he’s still dripping wet with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, Grayson stood proudly before his girl.

“You’re here?” Ethan chuckles, but then his smile is erased when he takes a good look at them both. “You’re here.” He repeats, realizing the horrifying truth he guessed before but never quite believed it.

“Did you…did you impregnate the love of my life?” Eerily quiet, his tone is sharp and voice low, deep and rumbling as his anger clouds his vision.

“You mean the love of my life? You married your girl, Y/N’s always been mine. You took her from me and I wasted ten years of my life watching you take her heart before breaking it. I won’t ever hurt her like you did. Now get out and come talk to me when you’re sober.”

Nostrils flared, Ethan nods, gnawing at his bottom lip as he glances at Y/N and walks back. Hands in his pockets, he chuckles lowly before walking out, leaving the pair alone.

“Are you okay?” Grayson’s concerned voice quickly makes its way to her heart, allowing it to beat at a peaceful pace, once again with the one she loves.

“Yeah.” She manages before hugging him, hiding her face in his chest with new cloud of doubt in her mind…did Grayson really sabotage them?

Their flight was almost twelve hours later, missing the one she wanted to catch while they cuddled to calm down. It was mainly for her benefit and Grayson was happy to oblige.

She was quiet. When Grayson picked up their suitcase, she simply pecked his cheek as a thank you. When Grayson had to swerve to avoid a crash, wide-eyed as he asked her if she's okay, she placed her hand on his knee and nodded. When they sat for hours during their flight, she stared through the window and Grayson felt the lump in his throat grow with every passing minute.

Despite what she may think, Grayson heard a good deal of the conversation she held with his brother...the man she used to whisper I love you before him. Knowing Ethan wants her back and is willing to blow his entire marriage too had made Grayson revert back to the angry, doubtful, hesitant man he was when he first lost her to his brother and it hurt...it hurt that she chose Ethan who had his face but a vastly different personality. Grayson felt inadequate, unworthy, unlovable and to feel that way again, ten years later and when she's pregnant with HIS child? It was worse than before. Insufferable, absolutely soul-aching and tiresome.

Did she regret it now? Regret him and their unborn child? Did she hate him for not sending those tickets? Was she wondering what her life would be like if he had sent them?

Whether he wanted to or not, he certainly thought about it. Imagining them making up, staying together and getting married, his Y/N having his twin's children? It made him sick to his stomach. And frightened of the future, of the simmering fire in her mind as it uncovers every memory she has from that time.

And she did. For a moment, the thought of Ethan crossed her mind but she didn't linger too long on what could have been, rather on why. She wished she knew why Grayson did what he did back then and if he didn't intervene, would Ethan be sitting next to her instead? Maybe...but he isn't and she should ask Grayson for the truth but she knows he's insecure about her past with Ethan, even if he doesn't voice those concerns.

So, instead of rehashing the past, she gave herself time to get over it in order to protect Grayson from any hurt. She told him she loves him, she's carrying his child - isn't that enough to prove he's the one she wants?

"It's going to be fine." Grayson places his palm over the back of her hand that laid flat on her thigh. He could tell she's worried as her gaze fixed on the house he grew up in, overwhelmed with possible scrutiny she may face. He wouldn't let her take the heat.

Interlocking their fingers, he saw her lips quiver momentarily before she pressed them together, turning back to him with a reluctant nod.

"I know." Her heavenly voice eased his own anxiety, making him smile in return before their hands parted and they left the car.

And as they move inside, Grayson placed his hand on the small of her back, looking at her with admiration. He should be worried, but he can't find it in him to regret anything that happened between them in the past five months. The only thing he regrets is the time wasted they could have spent together.

However, the moment they walk in, their worry is replaced by utter surprise when they're met with a rather happy little group.

"Congratulations!"

Lisa, Cameron and her husband, Kristina and...Ethan, all clapped as Grayson and Y/N half embraced one another, Grayson's grip stronger to make sure she doesn't fall back in shock. He looks to Ethan for a moment, wondering how he got there so fast but decides to keep quiet. It's the best thing for everyone.

"Oh, wow!" Y/N exclaims, struggling to draw a proper breath as everyone cheers and though it's meant to ease her mind, it made her more confused.

"You know?" Grayson turns to his mother who nods, laughing.

"Since the wedding. We saw you two sneaking around!"

Cheeks red and eyes set on the floor, Y/N smiles awkwardly, finding it's even worse when they seem to be so accepting, especially after Ethan came to her door not too long ago, with an offer to leave his wife for her and now he had an arm around his wife's waist.

"Don't be so shy, you're giving me my first grandchild! Plus, you've been a part of the family for so long that I'm happy we are actually family!"

Going through motions, that's how it felt. Everyone's hugging her, kissing her, touching her stomach and all she can focus on is the unrelenting, piercing gaze of her former boyfriend. She'd glance around the room, simply to see if she's the only one that notices, but no one else picked up on the dynamic between her and Ethan. Even Grayson seemed oblivious.

"So, everyone is going off to bed." Grayson whispers in her ear, kissing her neck delicately as she smiles, leaning back into him.

"So, what do you suggest we do?" She raises an eyebrow, craning her neck to peck his Adam's apple, relinquishing control as he sways them lightly to the beat of their hearts.

"Maybe you could talk to me?" Ethan startles them, making their little moment end prematurely when Grayson really wanted to slow dance with her where he once saw his parents do the same. He thought it would be romantic, but he found himself ticked off instead.

"You need to stay in your lane, bro." Grayson warns, his face dark as he meets Ethan's longing stare - the one he wore since he met Y/N and he knew Ethan could see he was suffering yet he never cared, so why should he?

"I'll talk to you." Y/N, however, had a different idea. Perhaps it was time to talk, calmly without any bitterness inside her.

"You don't have to." Grayson reminds her, but she just nods, silent again as her lips touch upon his, barely long enough for him to feel anything before she walked away, outside where he feared he might lose her again.

He swore he'd never stand by and watch her walk away with Ethan or any other man again, but he found himself doing it once more.

"So, I'm not going to be the enemy forever?" Ethan leaned on the wall, his eyes alight with the lamp above his head.

"I'm here to close that chapter of our lives." She folds her arms over her chest, absentmindedly tapping her foot against the wet ground beneath her feet.

"Close? So it was open all this time?" Ethan's voice beckons her to respond, his regrets written on his face and he couldn't hide it at all. If he knew he had a chance at any point in time, he'd have taken it.

"Until I saw you get married, I had trouble letting you go." Y/N admits, looking back at the house and up at the room she and Grayson are meant to share is already illuminated by the lamp beside the bed.

"But not anymore. I love Grayson and I think a small part of me always did." Smiling, she looks back at Ethan who swallowed thickly, nodding with a heavy heart.

"Was any of it real? Did you ever love me or was I always the wrong brother? The one you settled for? Why does this hurt so much?" The way he bows his head, unable to look her in the eye is breaking her heart because once upon a time, Ethan really was her prince charming. It hurts to see him so consumed with the past they left behind long ago - the past that consumed her too, up until Grayson saved her from it.

"Because it was real. You stole my heart when I least expected it." The joy in her voice when she spoke about them made his heart break further and even the light her eyes held when she remembered the time he had made her so incredibly happy made him smile despite the pain.

"I loved you for a really long time, Ethan, but I can't lie and say that the main reason why I didn't say yes to you when you first asked me on a date wasn't Grayson. I buried those feelings for years and I fell in love with your beautiful soul and brilliant mind but you also broke my heart and damaged my ability to trust people and love. You found a really good woman, E. Maybe it's time you appreciate her and let me go." Pressing her lips together, she let out a heavy sigh as he kept his gaze steady on her, his eyes sparing no tears as they fall freely.

"Okay? You can love me and still let me go. Because I let you go. For good." And with that, she took a step back, walking back to the house and with every step she felt lighter, happier, while Ethan remained behind.

"You can get out now." Ethan spoke up once she entered the house, looking up at the roof where he heard his brother hiding. He always listened in to people talking as a kid, well...they did it together. He had a feeling Grayson wouldn't miss this talk.

Looking down, Grayson rolls his eyes, slowly moving himself down. He had to be careful or Y/N would kill him if he hurt his back. Maybe she'd kill him for being there at all. It occured to him she may see it as his lack of trust in her, but it was more about his fear of not being enough for her...thank maybe Ethan was still a fresh wound for her.

"You won. She chose you." Ethan says, kicking a rock with his hands in the front pockets of his sweatpants.

"I didn't doubt she would." Grayson shrugs, but he was never a good liar. Ethan could always read him.

"Riiight. Look, I'm sorry. I won't be doing any stupid shit anymore. I had my chance and I blew it and...Looking back at it, I was the one who stole her from you. Deep down, I knew you loved her but a part of me didn't care because I loved her too. I convinced myself she didn't feel the same for you but you two were always closer. She was so much like me, but she always found common ground with you. You made her laugh like I never could and if she's gotta be with someone else, I'm glad it's you."

Finally at peace, Grayson and Ethan parted ways that night as brothers once more. Ethan made his way to his wife, promising himself to show her love she deserves and Grayson? He went to his soulmate with arms wide open, a promise to be the best father he can be and if she allows, husband as well.

"How are you?" He whispers, his hand back on her stomach as she laid on her back beside him.

"Happy." She hums, letting out a heavy sigh.

"But?" Grayson knew that sigh and he knew her, she was holding out on him.

"I finally cut ties with Ethan, but I can't help myself...why didn't you send those tickets?" Looking up at him, she pondered if he'd tell her the truth but he had no reason to lie now, did he?

"Because he told me to send you tickets the same day I saw him kiss her for the first time. I didn't want you to come there and pick up on their shit only to be stuck in Australia for the holidays." Kissing her forehead, Grayson drew a shuddered breath.

"And maybe because I worried he'd find a way to convince you to forgive and forget." But Y/N felt this meant more. Did he think she'd do that this night too?

"You know I love you? Since you asked me to cook for you in return for a watch! And this...you and me and this miracle we made...it's everything." Turning to her side, she splayed her palm on his chest, over his heart.

"You gave me your heart Grayson and I plan to keep it safe for as long as I live."

"Marry me then."

He didn't expect her to agree, not ever let alone when he asked so spontaneously without a ring or a big romantic gesture. Her nails weren't done anyway to show off the ring as most girls seemed to like.

"Yes!" But she did. Enthusiastically so. Her lips smashed against his instantly, turning his brain to mush.

But that night was only the beginning of their relationship.

While their families wanted a big wedding, planning everything because Y/N only wanted the final word on the choices they make with an occasional “LET’S ELOPE” freak out, the pair spent time enjoying their love and the growing life inside Y/N.

"It's a girl." Y/N claimed, but Grayson didn't care as long as the baby is healthy. Ever since the first ultrasound when he heard a heartbeat, Grayson was impatient to meet the baby and became stubbornly overbearing with Y/N.

She didn’t mind…too much. She’d catch him staring at her as her belly grew, noticing how in awe he is of her, unaware he’s wondering how one so fragile and tiny could grow a human inside and actually bring it into the world. He wasn’t the type to sit back and let her deal with it – he got involved. Grayson listened to audio books on pregnancy, delivery and raising children every day while he built some of the things he wanted for the nursery, always when she was asleep.

They agreed to raise their family in Los Angeles, mainly because Grayson knows Y/N hates snow and the LA climate appealed to her more. But then again, he insisted he should have free reign on the nursery, building everything he can to make it special for their child.

With every passing month, he’d measure Y/N’s belly and note it, downloading an application that helped him keep up with the development.

“Sigh.”

“Did you just say sigh out loud?” Grayson couldn’t help but chuckle at his fiancé, smitten by her even though she was increasingly complaining of her looks – something he made sure to stop with unlimited compliments every day, loving her even when she was terrorizing him with pregnancy cravings and sleepless nights that came with her newly developed snoring problem. Grayson truly adored every part of this pregnancy, especially how horny she became.

“I’m bored.” Sheepishly, she puts her leg over Grayson’s, his hand reacting on instinct as it rubs up and down her calf, lightly massaging her aching muscles.

“The doctor told you to rest. So, you’ll do just that and I’ll be your slave as promised.” Grayson tried to reason with her so many times before, but every time he turned his back on her he’d find her up and about. She is stubborn, but very much ready to have the baby they decided not to find out the sex of.

“I know! But I want to take a walk and get ice cream and have reckless, rough sex without this huge stomach making it impossible. And I want a drink…so bad…but I want to breastfeed too! Oh, God, I didn’t think this through.” Hiding her face in the pillow…as much as she could without turning over on her stomach, Y/N cried out of pure frustration while Grayson rubbed her back and held her close.

Hormones in the last trimester weren’t as helpful as they were in the first two. She cried ten times a day, mostly over the silliest things like “The sun is so pretty” or “That shirt fits you so well” and even “Why do I have to pee again”. Regardless how silly it was, he’d never tell her. Her body is undergoing massive changes and all because she’s going to give him the greatest gift of all – a chance to be a father and start a family, to be a man he wanted to be.

But when her water broke just a couple of days later, neither of them were quite ready for it. While Grayson ran around the house, gathering things she’d need in the hospital he made a Pinterest board about, Y/N was trying to remind herself why she did this in the first place.

It’s all fun and games until the pain starts to set in.

“Oh, we should have gotten a surrogate.” She whined as he helped her in the car, thanking his lucky stars he had the keys at hand and didn’t forget them like Ethan teased him he would.

“You’re doing great, love!” He wanted to be calm and supportive, but even Grayson was screaming in a state of panic and he’d laugh if he didn’t find it quite tragic how he’s acting like a scared teen when he’s almost thirty.

“DON’T SCREAM AT ME!” However, he had to reel it in when she started to cry again, realizing he’s scaring her more. But as they got to the hospital and Y/N went straight to the delivery room, Grayson held her hand all the way through – constantly reminding her to breathe so the child could breathe too, guiding her as much as he could between the hand crushing squeezes she’d administer with every push.

Grayson felt like every fiber of his being was vibrating with anticipation. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins. His hands trembled and his eyes were wide. The moment he heard that first cry was also the moment he felt his life had begun and he never felt such gratitude to the universe that gave him Y/N, his soulmate, who was gracious enough to give him the love of his life. Or two other he’d get in the next four years – their rainbow babies - twins, a boy and a girl.

“You were right. It’s a girl.”

This world is quite astonishing, when you claw your way out of the mire of dysfunction. When you first look over the horizon and see nature without the haze of discontent and petulance. Without any filter, with the naked eye and mind open to the beauty of this world, amazement comes. When you see those simple things, when you can fall in love with the simplest things, everything gets so much better. The larger things become almost overwhelming, the sense of love so much stronger. It is then you realize that before you lived a half-life, greyed and without the warmth each human is born with.

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay​ @beinscorpio​ @peacedolantwins​ @godlydolans​ @dolandolll​ @heyits-claire​ @ethanhes​

Their Rainbow Baby - deleted scene

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan x reader #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan angst #ethan dolan angst #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan imagine

[graffiastrology]

The archer, a musical birth chart.pt 5 Does a scorpion sting when fighting back?

Pluto, Lilith and mars in Scorpio:

“No, I could never give you peace”

So yeah, danger does indeed live in you and your birth chart, and she was aware, Battles, revenge, death and transformation will come ahead.

And she knew, since Picture to burn to Better than revenge (songs that are not in the playlist since they may get changed in the new versions) this scorpio force within her, and she has lilith right in the midheaven, and I think of what she said in the “73 questiosn with vougue” What would you say to your past self?

"Hey, you're going to date just like a normal 20-something should be allowed to, but you're going to be a national lightning rod for slut-shaming,"

Lets remember who is Lilith, the mother of demons, the rebel woman,the "bad" wife now a feminist icon, she was expulsed from heaven for having her own desires and thoughts. Having this placement in the MC (the house of public career) can manifest in complicated ways where men and their good wives can point the finger at the MAD WOMAN and project everything you hate on her.

But Lilith in scorpio also has a power of transformation and fighting for women's rights

That event transformed her, and finally stepped into her raw female power.

But now lets go back in time where the narrative was very different, and painted her as a woman with BAD BLOOD putting other women down.But her enemy was not any woman, the triple scorpio herself: Katy Perry.

Scorpio vs Scorpio

Back in 2015 Taylor and Katy stared a big mediatic feud, 5 years from that we can analyze this in a very different way

So lets recap what happened and how everything went off the trails

From the POV of Katy she lent a couple of dancers to Taylor, and she should have known it was a temporary thing, since they have that in the contracts. She must have read the whole contract, right?

From the POV of Taylor from one day to the other she lost a number of dancers of the tour she carefully put together, but they cant go just away, they have a contract oh what it is? Katy told them to put a clause so they could leave the RED tour ? oh this is enough I don’t need a bunch of traitors in my tour, go away!

And they used to be so close, from her POV it looked like she knew what she was doing, and from the Katy perspective it was not a big deal, you tour didn’t fall apart, you had time to plan in advance, but no, band aids don't fix bullet holes

Make no mistake BAD BLOOD was a intimidation tactic, it was a display of power, and it show a side of Scorpio mars in the 11th house (house of frienships)

it was like "look at my army, look at my powerful friends, do you want to mess with us?" Little did she know she had traitors in her army, one of them will be the one to strike low and give her the punishment of a low libra sun pisces moon: destroying your image with lies and illusions.

And then Katy took an opportunity and kicked the horse when she was dead with SWISH SWISH, but Katy you should have known that Mars, your chart ruler, doesn't like this, because if you beat down your enemy when it is down it speaks volumes about your confidence and real power.

But surprise bitch!

She came back from the dead, Pluto in Scorpio in action, babey!

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO, a power move like no other, just think about it, she could have:

Release Me! as planned and get a shit load of hate "you don't have the right to feel good about yourself, snake!"

Release an “apology” song, submit to the liar, and disappoint all the fans who stand her in her darkest time

Or this, take control of this whole snake narrative, loyal fans have already endured the storm, and it will create a new image, a powerful woman, one that attracted new fans (me included)

And so she was back at the top of the game while Katy was entering a dark era (probably going to make a playlist for her too) in these times she reflected in what went wrong and what was more important, because IT TAKES TWO to make a fight, she send a letter and Taylor recognized she may have blow things out of proportion and forgave her when they meet in the AFTERGLOW of their war.

But let's pause a moment, can we recognize the amount of growth that must take for 2 scorpio women to forgive and forget, to make amends? and that is something she always did, she believed people can be brand new, 32 and still change to grow up, still INNOCENT everybody makes mistakes, everybody makes impulsive choices that are not for the best...but what not everybody does is trick you, get you on the phone and mind-twist you record a call, edit it and re frame it to destroy someone. I am going to put the most interesting part of the call right here:

West: So it says “To all my Southside [N-word] that know me best, I feel like Taylor Swift might owe me sex.”

Swift: [Laughs, relieved.] That’s not mean….. oh my God, the buildup you gave it, I thought it was going to be like, “That stupid, dumb bitch.” But it’s not. So I don’t know. I mean, the launch thing,

West: You don’t have to do the launching and tweet. That was just an extra idea I had. But if you think that that’s cool, then it’s cool. If not… I mean, we are launching the s—

FAMOUS: I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex Why? I made that bitch famous (Goddamn) I made that bitch famous"

Sigh….THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS

Okey let's analyze this, the song was released, Taylor did not promote it, he said that she didn't have to do that, there was an official statement and then the Grammys speech.

People gave him some flak, but nothing extraordinary...somehow he convinced himself he was the victim and as revenge he and his good wife put the edited phone call and used their platform to destroy her, truly a case of how to make the worst of their Gemini, Pisces and Libra.

And after the plutonic transformation and the power move move that was reputation, is time to sit down, and contemplate the pain, because yes, Scorpio is a tough cookie, but still a water sign, and the hurt is intense and after the war, there is pain and even after the years the shape of their name still spells out pain so yeah she doesn't need to forgive however send that letter so they can have their CLOSURE they can have my middle finger instead.

Because when a scorpion cries they will make sure their TEARS RICOCHET, and think about the themes of the scorpio house (8th) how death creates a ripple effect, a death like hers can't go unnoticed and can’t go without consequences (at the moment they are going to divorce) and that is the thing with the scorpio energy it is about action and consequences, its about death and transformation, it's about crime and punishment.

But LONG STORY SHORT: She survived

And I don’t see a better way to go from scorpio to Sagittarius than with that song, so lets JUMP AND THEN FALL into it.

#pluto in scorpio #lilith in scorpio #scorpio midheaven #mars in scorpio #taylor swift #reputation #birth chart #birth chart analysis #evermore

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

Two Ships Passing in the Night {5}

Part 5

Series Masterlist

Spock x fem!Reader then Bones x fem!Reader

AOS

Summary: Spock has been thinking, Leonard has been seething, and unfortunately, they are on the same ship.

A/N: Hello, I reread the beginning of this and realized that I had some deeeeeeep plot holes, so now I am going to try to remedy them and create a cohesive plot….. While emphasizing some angst, and feelings…. If you’re still reading this, you’re a great being and deserve all the best things. So here’s some flashbacks and moods to tape this together. Also, just needed some angsty boys.

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 2,069

Spock found himself inside your hospital room, he felt that he owed you explanations. Even though you were leaving the Enterprise for your own ship. You deserved closure from him, that much had been conveyed by Prime.

“I plan to stay on board the Enterprise. Prime, intends to remain with New Vulcan and aid in the growth of the community.” Spock said, direct, to the point. “Uhura and I have grown closer, we are going to see where this goes.”

“I see.” You murmured quietly, glancing up as Dr. Ambrose came into the room.

“Well, you and the child’s vitals look good. At the moment I do not see any complications due to the Vulcan genetics. I think that’s in part….” She stopped when she saw Spock sitting next to your bed. “Hello.” She murmured, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

You sat stiffly in bed watching Spock process what he had heard. The doctor continued speaking when you tilted your head, at this point there wasn’t a reason to stop her. The cat was out of the bag. Spock remained quiet while you continued your conversation with the doctor.

Spock could feel his mind racing with the information he now had. You were pregnant, with his child. A child who could be integral to the future of his home world. To the Vulcan race. The potential was so great, but the child would only be a fourth Vulcan. He remembered the distain he had been exposed to as a child by being half Vulcan. Did he want to expose a child to this? Perhaps there would be a shift in the culture due to the current circumstance? His mind continued to jump through hoops. Then he heard the sound of someone else at the door.

His glanced over to see Dr. McCoy at the door in his medical blues. Intense eyes staring directly at you in the bed, his focus kept him from even noticing Spock in the room. There was a look in his eyes that Spock knew he could never give you. It was completely illogical, but Spock knew he had to step away from the situation, because while he cared about you and the child. Leonard McCoy would care for both of you in ways he never could. The child would know love, be cared for, in ways he had never been. He would never give up his Vulcan life, the way he was raised, but he would not choose it for another who was not fully Vulcan.

He glanced at you, confusion evident in your eyes. He had remained silent through all the doctor had said. Most men would have an emotional response to the news of becoming a father, he was not most men. The best option for all involved, would be for him to remove himself. He stood from the chair, making short eye contact with McCoy, “Doctor.” He greeted, turning back to you. “Congratulations again, Captain.” He murmured, turning on his heel and leaving the hospital room. The last thing he heard was you telling McCoy that you had not told him. His eyebrow raised, while it wasn’t a total lie, but it was a lie by omission. Spock didn’t know much about your relationship with the Doctor, but he knew you didn’t lie to him.

Nyota found him meditating in his room that evening. He could feel her hovering in the doorway as he concentrated on his breathing.

“Spock, do you want to talk about it?” She asked quietly coming to sit at his side.

He remained silent for a moment as he considered his words. “She’s pregnant and the child is mine. I would not have known if the doctor had not revealed it to me. If you were her, would you hate me?”

She sighed and turned to look into his eyes. “I don’t think there is a single ounce of hatred in even her little finger. I imagine she is hurting, confused, maybe even a bit scared. But I doubt that she hates you.”

“Do you think the child…..would they hate me, as a father?” He gazed down at his hands.

She bit her lip. “Children love their parents, it’s what their parents do through their lifetime that determines how that love grows.”

Spock nodded at her statement, “Would I be a good father?”

Nyota reached out and rested her hand on the nape of his neck. “I believe that you have the potential for greatness in anything you do, even as a father.”

Would I be a better father than Leonard McCoy? He wondered as she pulled him into an embrace.

Being aboard the Enterprise was relatively the same as it always had been for Spock. Jim inevitably lead them into some kind of minor peril, against the logical path, and was lectured by the doctor when he was injured. Spock could not navigate the new relationship he had with Dr. McCoy. He was used to the man’s casual distain for his existence. But now it was personal and both men knew why. Logically, Spock should have found a way to relieve the tension and turmoil between himself and the doctor. Perhaps informing the Captain of the tension between the members of the Enterprise should have been a priority for the first mate. But unfortunately, Spock let his emotions dictate this matter, which is what lead to the incident.

Leonard was having a bad day, a horrible day, possibly the worst day of his miserable existence. Jim had decided to jump headfirst into an unexplored planet that had lifeforms, very angry, territorial lifeforms, causing Leonard to barely have a few seconds of rest. Once he was sure that the crew members were stable he made his way into his office for a short break. He pulled up his PADD hoping for an update from Ambrose, but the messages were blank.

“No news is good news.” He murmured to himself, setting the PADD on his desk. “We’re in the middle of unknown space, it might still be transmitting.” His fingers tapped nervously on the desk. He knew that with the current timeline you would be getting important news about the baby’s growth, potential genetic anomalies, the sex. And he wasn’t there, and the father wasn’t there. He let out a frustrated huff of air and glanced up at the form that darkened his doorway. “Jim you have already given me more than enough work today, what the hell do you want?”

Spock stepped into the light, “I’m afraid I’m not the captain, doctor.”

“And I repeat, what the hell do you want?” Leonard asked, letting the venom leak into his voice.

“I was hoping that we could have a discussion.” Spock said, tilting his head towards the chair across from the doctor’s.

Leonard reluctantly gestured to the chair. “Did I use to many bandages after the away mission?” He grumbled.

Spock gritted his teeth, this was not going to be an easy discussion. “I’m here to talk to you about the mother of my child.”

Leonard’s eyes flicked with an emotion that Spock could not read. “And why are you talking to me about this?”

“I think we both know why.” Spock answered.

“So she decided to tell you?” Leonard asked, glancing down at his PADD, which still remained dark.

“Not exactly.” Spock answered, the doctor raised his eyebrow in a question. “The doctor revealed it in front of me when I visited her before the mission.”

“So you’ve known all this time,” Leonard started, hurt rising in his chest. You had lied to him, that day, you had lied to his face. “And you haven’t done a damn thing for her.”

Spock prepared his words carefully. “I know it is no secret to either of us that if she had her way I would not be aware of the child’s existence. I hardly believe she wants me involved.”

Leonard’s hand slammed down on his desk. “You are just as responsible for that child as she is, and whether she wants you involved or not, you should have offered something. You just left her. You fucked her, got her pregnant, and you left. You knew and you walked away.” Leonard’s voice began rising in volume. “She loved you and you just walked out. I was there after you left and dammit I saw her heart break.”

“And she loves you more than she could ever love me.” Spock snapped quickly.

The doctor paused in his rant, confusion in his eyes. “You expect me to take anything you say to heart, you’re basically a walking computer program.”He scoffed, but he could feel that thought taking hold in the back of his mind.

Spock sighed, he knew that reasoning would not work with the doctor, particularly in his current state. And he would never admit it, but he could feel something boiling in his stomach as the conversation continued.

Leonard’s PADD lit, breaking the tension between the men. His fingers flitted across the screen, eyes softening. Spock could feel he was overstaying his welcome as the doctor continued to furiously scan the PADD screen. He rose from the chair, stopping in the doorway as he heard the doctor call after him. “For what it’s worth, it’s a boy.”

Spock’s shoulders relaxed and he turned back to the man at the desk for a moment, his eyes meeting his. “Thank you.”

“I’m not doing this for you.” The doctor answered, going back to the PADD. Spock nodded and exited the room. He knew that he and the doctor’s relationship was far from friendship, but he was fairly certain that the doctor was not going to punch him the next time he walked into the medical quarters. He wandered through the halls until he made it to his quarters, he picked up his PADD from his bedside table.

“I’m having a son.” He murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. His mind wandered to thoughts of his mother, she would be excited to be a grandparent. Maybe not proud of how the child came to be, but she would love the child, like she loved him. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he began to type his message to you.

I owe you an explanation for my actions. I know that I did not react to the news that was revealed to me, without your consent. I know that I will have a child in this world in a few months. I am responsible for them coming into this universe.

I have spent much time these past few weeks reflecting on my time with my mother. She was kind and I know without a doubt that she loved me, and I her. The human emotion of love is one that for years I repressed to be more like my father and his world, only to learn that he too felt love in his own way, in his own expression. As a child I did not understand this expression, only that of my mother. It is through her expression that I know the kind of mother you will be. You will be strong, you will be kind, caring, and above all, loving.

The life of this child will be better without me in it. The universe does not require more of me, it requires more of you. You are good, you are kind, you are caring. You are everything that I am not. This child will grow into a good and just person because you care for them. I ask you to raise them as you were. If they ever know me is not important, it is important that they know you. If either of you require anything, know that I will do what I can in my power to be sure you have it. If you require anything of me to provide for raising the child, you will have it. But you will not have me. The responsibility of their livelihood does not solely rest upon your shoulders, I played an equal part.

I cannot offer them care or kindness, only logic. Logic does not make a parent, love does. I fear I am incapable of the love that is required to be a parent. But you are not, nor is he. And he loves you more than I ever could.

Live long and prosper.

Taglist:

@elizabeththefandomgirl​

@cobe76

#Leonard Bones McCoy #spock #commander spock #nyota uhura #spock x uhura #spock x reader #leonard x reader #leonard mccoy/reader #spock/reader #star trek aos #star trek aos imagine #star trek imagine #star trek fic #reader insert

[free-pool-trash]

dangerous game - peter maximoff

okay! this is just pure angst. peter has big dumbass energy in this one and i wanted it to hurt so here we are, i haven’t read over it so it could be awful.

requested by anon:  So, I was thinking about this. Peter and the reader are best friends. both have a crush for each other but they are too awkward to do something(and the classical "I don't want to ruin our friendship").Peter in a weird attempt of trying to get over this way too big almost painful love(that he thinks is not mutual)decides to date someone else! Make sense? Would it work for a fic? I don't know, you are the master mind here love. Anyways, the end is up to you? If he ends up with the reader or not

word count: 3.8k

warning(s): lots of swearing, fighting, peter being a dick, platonic warren

masterlist

PART II & III ARE UP ON THE MASTERLIST

When you were younger you thought that having a ride or die best friend would be the greatest thing in the world. What you didn't know however was how agonizingly painful it would be when you developed feelings, and eventually, fell in love with that ride or die best friend.

Peter was, as you always described him to people, your ride or die. He was your favorite person on the face of the planet and your most trusted confidante. You say 'was' because lately you didn't know what he was to you.  

Things had changed so horribly fast, faster than he could even run, you thought. It changed so fast despite the fact that you felt it happen, watched it happen, over the most gut wrenching few weeks.

Everything had been perfectly normal between the pair of you, the day before it all started going so terribly wrong, you'd been laughing and cracking jokes together, you did what you always did and stole his silver jacket and he'd said what he always said, "looks better on you anyway." Common practice in your friendship. At least... it had been.

In all honesty, you felt so unbelievably fucking stupid, because for a fleeting moment you had yourself convinced that your best friend of almost three whole years actually had romantic feelings for you, idiotic thought apparently.

Because the very next day Peter began to withdraw himself from you, slowly but not at all subtly. It started with the distance he started putting between you physically, and then the emotional distancing kicked in a few days later and then before you could even comprehend why he was acting the way he was, he was pretending as if he'd never even met you and it hurt like all hell.

Not only did he pretend like he didn't know you, but he also acted like nothing was out of the ordinary when you confronted him about the whole situation.

"Peter! Hey wait up!" You'd called out to him, having to break into a jog to catch up to the mop of silver hair that seemed to quicken it's pace upon hearing your voice.

Once you caught up to him, you had to take a second to catch your breath before you spoke.

"You running away from me or something, Maximoff?" You asked, a joking tone in your voice that did very little to mask your confusion.

Peter laughed awkwardly and glanced around nervously, and if you didn't know any better you would have said that it was like he didn't want to be seen with you at all.

"Uh no, what makes you think that?" He questioned, clearing his throat and continuing to look around, seemingly on edge. About what you hadn't known.

"Well, the fact that you have barely spoken a word to me in last two we-" Before you could even finish your sentence, Peter's eyes moved to focus on something behind your head and he cut you off.

"I actually can't talk right now, but um we can definitely catch up later!" With that he pushed past you and walked toward what, or more accurately, who he'd been staring at.

You watched helplessly as he rushed happily towards Heather, one of the newer students at the academy. Your face dropped as you watched him throw an arm casually around her shoulder and you didn't even try to mask the hurt on your face while you watched them walk off together.

Oh. So he'd replaced you. Oh okay.

From there it went from having little to no contact to absolutely no contact whatsoever, despite your constant attempts to get his attention.

A few months passed you by while you tried to figure out what exactly you were feeling. You felt betrayed mainly, the sense of abandonment was strong too and of course the confusion you felt about the whole situation hung over you like a dark cloud.

What had you done to deserve that? You couldn't for the life of you figure it out and that's what hurt the most, he never even stopped to give you a reason.

Another emotion you'd settled on was anger. The color sliver now triggered your fight or flight response and oh how you were itching for a good fight.

Night after night the exact same questions bounced around your mind, never allowing you to sleep peacefully, not until you hushed them with a half assed conclusion you'd created yourself.

"How could he just leave me like that? After everything we've been through? Was I not a good enough friend? Did I do something to push him away?" You'd promised yourself that you'd never allow yourself to lose sleep over a boy, you couldn't stand that this is what you'd come to. 

You hated Peter for making you feel this way, you hated him for it, he was the one person that knew every single thing about you, he knew all of your biggest weaknesses and yet he didn't even think twice before exploiting them- like it meant nothing, like you meant nothing.

News of Peter and Heather becoming an official "couple" had spread throughout the Academy rather quickly. You pretended that you didn't care but fuck if you weren't crying on the inside.

You were fucking miserable and the people around you, the people who loved you and were concerned about you would've had to be blind not to notice.

Jean and Jubilee were constantly checking up with you, making sure you ate at least one meal a day since they noticed that you usually skipped out on meals and looked like you were always about to pass out after training. They didn't push you too hard however, they'd been in your shoes you all knew what heartbreak looked like, you all knew what it felt like and you all knew that it would pass in time, but it needed to run its course first.

The boys on the other hand were assigned to deal with the Peter side of things, they were not as gentle in dealing with the speedster as they were with dealing with you.

Warren had been straight up pissed off, Kurt's heart ached for you and Scott seemed to hold the same confusion as you did. They'd try their best to get answers out of Peter without stirring the pot between him and his new girl, but the two seemed to be attached at the hip and it was getting harder to catch the boy alone.

Eventually the three boys had enough of tiptoeing around the topic with Peter, he seemed to be thriving and you seemed to only be getting worse despite your efforts to hide it from the group. You were one of the best people each of them knew, they knew you and they knew all you'd need to be back to yourself was some closure, it didn't seem like so much to ask yet somehow it felt like obtaining it was an impossible task. 

So instead of their usual divide and conquer tactic the boys decided to simply corner the speedster and make him talk. It was pretty much a surprise intervention.

"What the hell?" Peter asked looking between the three boys who'd backed him into a literal corner.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Scott was the first to speak up, shaking his head at Peter disapprovingly.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you guys, why are you ambushing me?" Peter asked becoming nervous as Warren scoffed.

"Cut the shit, Maximoff. Why'd you screw (Y/n) like that?" Warren asked, no longer willing to beat around the bush.

The boys noticed how Peter tensed at the mention of your name, the boy under scrutiny cleared his throat and attempted to move past the boys, who successfully stopped him.

"Look I've got a date-" He started before Warren pushed him back.

"I couldn't care less, Maximoff. Answer the question." Warren demanded as Scott and Kurt became aware of the fact that Warren wasn't fucking around.

"Why do you even care what happens between (Y/n) and I?" Peter asked defensively, deflecting the question and regretting it as Warren stalked towards him.

"I care because she's one of my closest friends and you abandoned her without a second thought and started trapesing around with the new girl as if (Y/n) had meant nothing to you in the first place and now she's fucking miserable, so answer the fucking question." Warren growled out through gritted teeth, and the other boys nodded in agreement behind Warren.

"She's heartbroken, Peter." Scott added, as Kurt nodded in agreement before asking, "Haven't you noticed?"

Peter's brows furrowed as he looked at each of the boys before looking back at Warren, squaring up to him. He left you to protect the integrity of your friendship, to protect your feelings. But it wasn't your feelings he was protecting, no it was his own, he was selfish and stupid but he was too far gone to turn back now.

He missed you more than anything, he loved you for fuck sake but if hating him was what you needed to do to move on then he'd make you hate him, although he assumed he was doing a good job of that already.

Swallowing hard he looked Warren dead in the eyes and mentally prepared himself to get the everliving shit kicked out of him by the winged boy, with what he planned to say he definitely deserved it.

"She's not my problem. She got too attached, that's on her." Peter spat out in the most malicious voice he could manage, fuck he hated himself.

Warren’s fist moved to connect with Peter's jaw before Scott and Kurt held him back, the two boys were seething from what Peter said, and Scott knew him well enough to know that what he was saying was utter bullshit, but they knew if Warren got his hands on Peter the speedster would probably end up with a broken spine.

"I don't know who you're trying to fool Peter but get your shit together." Scott told him angrily before Kurt teleported the three of them away.

The boys ended up in your room where you were chatting with Jean and Jubilee who were already there. You all knew about the boys and their plan to confront Peter and judging by how angry they all looked, you guessed it didn't go as planned.

"No joy?" Jubilee asked sympathetically and Kurt shook his head sadly in response, to him Peter's words had been cruel and he couldn't wrap his head around how he could say that about someone that he cared for.

Scott flopped down on the edge of your bed, bedside Jean and groaned. "He was being an ass." He spoke, head in hands out of frustration.

Warren still looked like he was out for blood and you wondered what he could've done to get under his skin so much.

"What's up, birdy?" You asked, patting the free space beside you on the bed. The blond stomped over to you and sat down beside you grumpily.

Looking at you in contemplation and then shaking his head, he huffed before speaking out angrily, "I just don't understand how one guy could be such a fucking dumbass." He turned to look at Scott and Kurt, "You guys should've let me beat him up." He stated matter of factly causing your eyes to widened and the other girls shared your shocked expression.

"What did he say that was so bad you wanted to punch him?" You asked, voice filled with worry.

Scott sighed and looked at you sympathetically, "We asked him why he screwed you over and he basically told us that you weren't his problem."

You didn't get a chance to react before Jubilee jumped to her feet, pure rage radiating from her small body.

"You absolutely should've let Warren punch him! Fuck it, I'll electrocute him myself!" She exclaimed, not really serious about taking matters into her own hands but seriously angry with the way the usually dorky boy had been behaving recently. 

"Calm down, Jubes." Jean told her calmly as they watched your eyes narrow before you looked around at all of them, a spiteful smile on your face.

"You know what? Fuck him. I'm done crying about him. I'm over it." You stated, as you watched them glance at you skeptically, all except Warren who was glad of your change in attitude.

"I say we go out, have a good time and make him wish I was his fucking problem." You laughed out, clearly not even bothering to digest the new information you'd been given.

"I say we show him exactly what he's missing." Warren chimed in nonchalantly, to which you nodded enthusiastically and the others couldn't lie and say they weren't happy you were finally deciding to let it go.

"That settles it. We're going to the mall." Jean declared, happiness lacing her voice.

You'd finally smiled for the first time in an age and it was because you finally realized you had more than just Peter. You had five of the most incredible friends who looked out for you and didn't just up and leave as soon as things got tough.

You figured it couldn't hurt to follow Warren's advice, if Peter wanted to leave you with absolutely no explanation then you'd highlight everything that would make him wish he'd stayed.

You loved him and he'd left you and replaced you and refused to give you any fathomable reason as to why. You weren't an idiot, you knew the whole "not his problem" thing was bullshit. 

He was winning at a game that you didn't want to play, but you supposed if you had to you'd play to win.

You'd tried to be mature, but he wouldn't budge, he'd pretend he couldn't hear you or pretend he didn't know what you were talking about. If he wasn't willing to work things out like a big boy then you'd match his immaturity.

As the weeks went on Peter began to see you more and more, only now you pretended he was a stranger to you and he knew he was being a hypocrite but he hated how it felt to be ignored by you.

What really got under his skin though was how cozy Warren was getting with you. Despite the fact Peter had been dating Heather for nearly two months now he was still hopelessly in love with you and watching you prance around with Warren Worthington III, the guy that almost re-positioned Peter's face, made him realize how much he'd seriously fucked up.

Heather was great, she was pretty and sweet but she wasn't you, and Peter was pretty sure she wouldn't stay with him for much longer. They'd both grown bored of each other.

As if he'd manifested it into existence, a few days later Heather ended things with Peter. Now that she was gone the boy had nobody else left as the majority of his friends were also your friends and there was always an awkward tension whenever he tried to talk to them.

He knew he only had one option. He had to go and talk to you. He had to fix things.

After Heather broke things off Peter went to find you, he didn't know what he was going to do or say but he knew the results probably wouldn't be favorable.

Peter found you in your room, he sped in and hadn't bothered knocking, he never did.

You were shocked at his sudden appearance, to say the least, he stood nervously in your doorway and you didn't bother moving from where you sat in the middle of your bed, pursing your lips and crossing your arms.

"What do you want?" You spit out, hostility lacing the question.

"Me and Heather broke up." Peter found himself saying, not really having anything else to offer you in the moment.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "What's that got to do with me?"

"I-" He started but paused. 

You looked at him expectantly and waited, eyebrow still cocked.

"I'm sorry." He finally sighed out and you laughed at how weightless the words felt.

"And what is it exactly that you’re sorry for? Abandoning our entire friendship or pretending that I didn't exist?" You inquired as you watched him swallow the lump in his throat.

"All of that." He replied meekly.

"Why'd you do it?" Peter swallowed yet again before clearing his throat awkwardly, he had to tell you the truth and he could see your composure cracking.

"I didn't want to lose you." Scrunching your face up at his answer, you got off your bed to stand in front of him.

"That doesn't make any sense. If you didn't want to lose me then why did you just leave me?" You told him, anger rising in your voice.

Peter let out a heavy sigh, moving to place a hand on your arm but freezing when you took a step back.

"I didn't want to risk ruining our friendship." He told you vaguely, looking at you pleadingly.

"Oh so what? You thought you'd do a pre-emptive strike and just ruin it on the spot?" You scoffed out, if his reason for ruining the friendship was not wanting to ruin the friendship you'd have serious questions. 

"That's not what I meant to do!" He defended helplessly.

"Then what the fuck did you mean to do, Peter?" You shouted, voice cracking as you felt your uncaring facade slipping away.

Peter closed the distance between you both and placed his hands on your arms, you didn't step away that time but you did stare at his hands in bewilderment.

"I love you." He told you, brown eyes staring into yours that had began tearing up.

Angrily, you shoved him away.

"Seriously? You fucking threw me away and replaced me because you love me?" Peter's eyes widened at your tone, you were livid and he hadn't realized how badly he'd affected you. 

"(Y/n) please! Just let me explain." He begged.

Taking a deep breath you shook his hands off of you and took another step back.

"Then explain." 

"We're best friends-" He began but you cut him off without mercy, "We were best friends."

Peter looked at you like a kicked puppy and it hurt but you couldn't let him see you crack, he fucked you up and now he has to deal with it.

"I love you, I didn't want to tell you because if you didn't feel the same it would have ruined everything! And I just thought that if I started dating someone else that those feelings would go away." He explained, talking fast and nerves running through his entire body as he watched you chuckle lowly to yourself.

"You didn't just start dating someone though, Peter. You completely disregarded me for three fucking months without any explanation." You told him, breaking into a fit of laughter as he struggled to find a defense for his actions.

He realized he was fucked when he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks despite your laughter.

"Do you know what's really funny?" You asked, stepping closer to him as he shook his head.

Poking your finger at his chest you emphasized every word you said with a jab, "I loved you too."

You watched as his face fell and you no longer tried to save face, you allowed your bottom lip to quiver and your voice to crack as you regained the distance between you.

"I was hurting and scared too. But I would have never done to you what you did to me. That's not love, Pete." You told him weakly, voice breaking down.

Peter's brows furrowed and his mouth fell open, "Why didn't you say anything?" He regretted asking as he caught the glare you sent in his direction.

"Because as soon as I thought that maybe you could like me too you fucked off to be with Heather and started pretending I didn't exist!" Your voice was loud and aggressive.

How could he even ask that question?

Peter scoffed at you, "Seems like you were pretty happy with Worthington keeping you company."

Your eyes widened, "You're fucking kidding, right?" Peter only shrugged, an angry look on his face.

"That's why you came back isn't it? Because you're jealous of Warren?" Peter said nothing, only looked to the floor nervously.

Laughing again, you wiped the tears off your face aggressively, "God, here I was thinking that maybe you were actually sorry."

"I am sorry!" Peter exclaimed.

"Are you though? Because it seems like your girlfriend broke up with you and now you have no other options." You stated matter of factly.

Anger erupted in Peter, he didn't come here to fight with you but if you didn't want to have a level headed conversation then neither did he.

"I'm trying to make it right! I fucked up okay I get it but the way you're acting is immature." He shouted, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Immature?" You challenged, raising your eyebrows at him, stepping closer.

"Yeah, immature." He confirmed, standing his ground.

Again you let out a laugh, crossing your arms tightly across your chest, "No Peter, what's immature is leaving your best friend of three years and then pretending she doesn't exist like a fucking child all because you're scared." 

"Pft right. You moved on pretty quick anyways." He muttered causing your jaw to fall slack.

"Peter you literally stopped talking to me then started dating someone the next day!" You yelled out, your voice raising in pitch with the more worked up you became.

"That's different!" He shouted through gritted teeth.

"How?!" You demanded, your own teeth clenching at the conversation that was beginning to stress you out.

"Because I didn't replace you as a friend!" He reasoned, weakly.

"And what? I did?" You inquired, genuinely confused with what the fuck he was insinuating.

"Like I said. You seem pretty happy with Worthington." He spat out and you let out a humourless laugh.

"You know what, Peter? When you decided to start treating me like a ghost and making me feel like shit, Warren was there for me. Just like Jean, Jubilee, Scott and Kurt were there for me." You told him, tiring of the argument.

He'd fucked you over, flaunted his new relationship, now he's single and suddenly you're the bad guy for seeking comfort in one of your closest friends.

"Look Peter. I forgive you for whatever it is that you think you're apologizing for, but I'm not gonna forget about it. You really broke my trust and I won't apologise for getting closer to one of my friends just because you're jealous. You made your bed so lie in it." You told him, firmly, brushing past him and walking to your door before turning to look over your shoulder at him, "Go ahead and let yourself out."

And with that you left him alone in your room as you walked away, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking down in the middle of the hallway.

#peter maximoff #peter parker x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #x-men days of future past #x-men x reader #mcu x reader

[westallenfun]

Two's Company (2/3)

Westallen secret santa gift

For: Lauren (@backtothestart02) (Happy holidays! I hope you like this fic!)

From: Lina (@cheryls-blossomed)

A/N: A special thank you to my beta, Caroline (@ginandweas).

Inspired by Jane Austen’s Emma and the blissfulness and hardship of tumbling into true love.  On the eve of publication of the most important article of her professional career thus far, Iris West realizes that she is head over heels in love with her best friend Barry, but she grapples with revealing her feelings, for fear of ruining their friendship. But a weekend trip to Metropolis sets in motion a series of events, romantic mishaps and conundrums abound, that may force Barry and Iris to face some long-awaited, romantic truths.

Rating T (Warnings: Mild Language)

The mirror in the bathroom is foggy from the steam of the shower, and as Iris traces circles on its surface to clear the mistiness, she feels more relaxed than she has in days. The hot shower was exactly what she needed, and perhaps this impromptu vacation is a blessing in disguise, for she knows she had been overworked and overtired the past few weeks as she agonized over the research for the McCulloch Tech exposé. Even now, the article is not far from her mind, and the last few days have been hectic: Carver had immediately filed a defamation lawsuit on Tuesday, and Iris had had Cynthia file a response on Wednesday. Meanwhile, the public response to the exposé had been overwhelmingly positive, with Iris and Kamilla already being praised for their meticulousness in investigative reporting, and the news world is currently buzzing with anticipation about the long-term ramifications of the piece. Iris hopes that truth will ensure that justice will be done. 

As Iris contemplates truth and justice, she steps out of the bathroom and sees the two cocktail dresses that she had laid out for tonight: a red, shimmery number and a lacy, black fitted dress that comes half-way down her thighs. The fact that she is attending a party tonight comes as a bit of a surprise.

            When Iris, Barry, Cisco, and Cynthia had arrived at The Time Metropolis, they had been checked in rapidly and told that Eddie Thawne had invited them to a cabaret performance that night.

            “Mr. Thawne is sorry to have missed you, as he is in meetings this afternoon, but he has asked us to invite you to our Friday night cabaret at the Trajectory Club on our terrace. He has told us that he will meet you there and hopes that you will join, even though the invitation is last minute,” a lady at the concierge informed them

            “Sweet!” Cisco had exclaimed, but Barry and Cynthia had seemed far less enthused at the prospect of having to attend a cabaret and socialize that very night. While Iris had been somewhat surprised at the invitation, especially because her father and Cecile are only arriving tomorrow for the gala, the concierge had confirmed that this was a night for the young people invited to tomorrow’s gala. Iris found this odd, given the fact that this weekend was meant to celebrate her dad and Cecile. Still, not wanting to be rude, given the effort Eddie seemed to be putting into this weekend, Iris had accepted. She had privately told Barry, Cynthia, and Cisco that if they did not want to attend, they didn’t have to.

            “It’s fine,” Cynthia had responded. “While I would have been perfectly fine binge-watching Netflix, I’m not going to leave you without a wing-woman.” 

            “I need no convincing,” Cisco had said. Barry, who had gone very quiet up until that point, agreed to come, albeit very reluctantly,

            “I have no idea why this guy would plan an event tonight when Joe and Cecile won’t even be here to attend. But since we’re invited, I guess we should go.”

            Thus, Iris finds herself having to prepare for an unexpected night at the hotel’s terrace club. The red, shimmery dress is a favorite, but it’s for very specific occasions, and unsure what the atmosphere will be tonight, Iris figures that the lacy, black dress is the safer option, and she picks out the eye shadow and earrings that would best suit the dress. As she adorns herself with her garnet, dangling earrings, she hears a knock at her hotel room door. 

            “Just a minute!” she calls, as she adds the soft backs to her earrings. Upon opening her door, she is greeted by the sight of Barry in a dark shirt and jeans, holding a small, red bag. “Bear,” she smiles, just as he says,

            “Iris.” And he’s looking at her, wide-eyed and apparently speechless, and Iris feels both stunning and powerful under his gaze. They’re staring at each other, neither saying a word, and Iris wonders who might speak first, but she does not have to wait long, because Barry shakes his head quickly, relieving some of the intensity, and smiles, “You look absolutely beautiful.” (And when he says that to her, so unassumingly, Iris is absolutely sure that she would love to run through a field of daisies and into Barry’s arms right about now, but she manages to compose herself.) 

            “Thanks, Barry. You look good, yourself.” She lets him into her room and shuts the door. “You’re early. I thought we were meeting by the elevator at ten to eight.” 

            “Yeah, we are… we were, but I have something for you,” he says, holding up the red bag. “I wasn’t able to give this to you on Tuesday, and then there was all the craziness of this last minute trip, and I know you’ve noticed that I’ve been preoccupied lately, which I am sorry about, by the way, and I know you definitely deserve an explanation.”

            “Bear, you don’t need to apologize. Or explain.”

            “No, I really do. And I want you to know that I’m glad we’re here. I really am. I kept telling you you needed a vacation, and I stand by that, and I want this weekend to be absolutely great for you.”

            “Well,” Iris says. “You’re with me, aren’t you? So it’s bound to be a pretty great weekend, no matter what else happens.” Barry chuckles, but there’s a forlornness to his laugh.

            “So, I got this for you. For your incredible journalistic achievements and for all your successes that I know you’re going to have in the future as the greatest journalist this world has ever known.”

            “Barry, you shouldn’t have,” Iris whispers, overcome with emotion, as she takes the bag from Barry and finds a small black, velvet box, which she removes from the bag, carefully. Setting the bag on the bed, she opens the box, revealing a white gold wedding band set on a delicate chain. Iris takes a deep breath as she realizes what she is looking at: the wedding band is the same as her mother, Francine’s, wedding band. Or rather it’s a perfect replica, for her mother’s wedding band was misplaced when her father sold their old home after Francine had passed away, and Iris had been distraught then. But here, in her hands, is a stunning replica of the wedding band, and she cannot imagine the trouble Barry must have taken to have the band replicated perfectly, especially because he did not have the original. “Mama’s wedding band,” Iris starts, but is unable to continue, tears spilling from her eyes. She feels Barry’s thumbs underneath her eyes, brushing away her tears, and Iris looks up and sees him watching her with such ineffable tenderness that she is unable to hold his gaze for too long, bashfully looking down at her toes.

            “I remember when this wedding band was misplaced in the move between houses, and I remember how devastated you were, because that was one of the few tangible things you had of your mom. I asked Joe if he had a photo that clearly shows your mom’s wedding band, and luckily he had one, and so I took it to the jewelers, and they were able to replicate it perfectly. I know it can’t compare to the original but…”

            “It’s perfect, Barry. I don’t even know what to say. That you remembered, that you took so much time to give this to me… I… I can’t even tell you what this means to me. I’ve waited so many years to have some closure, and I just…” Iris’s voice breaks, and Barry pulls her to him, cradling her head against his chest. “…Thank you, Bear,” she says, softly. Silence descends upon them, and Iris feels Barry’s hands slip to her waist, and she shivers, lifting her head slightly to look up at him, and his gaze is… so loving, so reverent. One hand remaining on her waist, he reaches his other hand down to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, and his touch lingers on her cheek, caressing the skin just below her earlobe. And she’s not sure which one of them moves first, but she feels this invisible pull, pushing her up to her tip-toes as Barry bends his head towards hers, his hand gently tilting her chin upward, and their lips are just inches apart, and Iris cannot possibly rationalize what is about to happen, but her heart is racing, and all she feels is longing and desire and love.

But there’s a loud knock on her door, and Cynthia is yelling,

            “Iris, where are you? We need to get going.”

The moment evaporates, and Iris is flooded with disappointment, as Barry’s hands fall to his side. She can’t quite gauge his expression, as he’s not looking at her, but towards the door, rather pensively. It frustrates her that she is unable to determine what he’s thinking now, when usually he’s an open book to her. 

            “We should go, yeah?” Iris asks, as she puts the necklace on, and Barry nods, still not meeting her eye.

            “Yeah,” he whispers, hoarsely, following her to the door. Cynthia is impatient when Iris opens the door, but when she sees Barry, her eyes widen, and she gives Iris a desperate look, which Iris figures is meant to be apologetic. As they head to the elevators, where Cisco is waiting, Iris in any other situation may have been left to wonder if yet another person to whom she is close is aware of how she feels about Barry, but instead she cannot quite believe that she and Barry had been about to kiss and what this could possibly mean. Did Barry feel the same way she did? He had to, right? People don’t nearly kiss people they don’t have feelings for. Iris’s mind is reeling with the possibilities of Barry reciprocating her feelings, but a betraying voice in her head reminds her: What if this is all too good to be true? And just like that, she feels sick to her stomach.

*

The Trajectory Club on the rooftop terrace of the Time Metropolis is a sight to behold, with its sleek architectural finish of black marble and its incredible views of Metropolis. High tables of black marble and ivory cushioned stools circle the perimeter of the club, and a dance floor is at the center of the terrace, although nobody is currently occupying it. There are several microphones, however, no doubt for the upcoming cabaret performance, and servers are providing beverages and finger foods to customers. 

“This is noice,” Cisco remarks. “It’s a good thing you invited me to this shindig, Barry.”

“Anytime, man, although you should be thanking Iris,” Barry chuckles. 

“Thanks, Iris.” Iris nods at Cisco with a smile, but she’s so preoccupied that she can barely concentrate on the conversation; indeed, it’s certainly atmospherically a very nice club, but Iris finds herself hardly enjoying that fact, and unlike Cisco, she’s dreading the night out. Cynthia nudges her side and asks in a low voice,

“What’s wrong?” Iris opens her mouth to answer, but sees Eddie Thawne headed in their direction with a suspiciously familiar woman and mouths, 

“Later,” to Cynthia, who, in response, fixates Iris with a look that conveys that this is a conversation that they absolutely will be having at some point in the near future.

“Iris West,” Eddie exclaims when he is close enough, wrapping Iris in a hug, which startles Iris, as she and Eddie are acquaintances at best. She returns his hug, politely, but from the corner of her eye, she sees Barry tense and that agitated energy that he’d been carrying with him for days is now particularly palpable. “Good to see you again. Thank you so much for coming.”

“Eddie, hi. Thanks for inviting us. I’m sorry that Wally and Linda couldn’t make it,” Iris responds, quickly extricating herself from Eddie’s embrace and crossing her arms over her chest. “These are my friends: Barry, whom you’ve met before, and Cynthia, and Cisco.” 

“Nice to meet all of you. Good to see you again, Barry.” 

“Likewise,” Barry responds tightly, and when they shake hands, it feels distinctly unfriendly, which confuses Iris, because she’s sure Barry and Eddie have met only once before, and they had been cordial with one another at the time. 

“Thanks for inviting us all out here,” Cisco then interjects, and the tension seemingly dissipates, as Eddie and Cisco shake hands, and then Cynthia and Eddie exchange pleasantries.

The woman accompanying Eddie steps out from behind him, and Iris is shocked, for she has met her before, which would, she figures, explain why the woman had looked so familiar from a distance.

“Patty?” Iris queries, and Patty smiles brightly,

“Hi, Iris! Wow, I didn’t realize you and Barry were Eddie’s friends. Small world.”

“You two know each other?” Eddie asks, although his tone suggests that he’s not actually interested in the story behind that, more that he’s inquiring perfunctorily. 

“Not exactly, but I ran into Iris and Barry on a line at a coffee shop in Central City. Iris was nice enough to entertain my rambling.”

“Not at all. I enjoyed our brief, random conversation. Strangers on a queue waiting for morning coffee? There are always good stories to be had there,” Iris responds, and Patty smiles gratefully at her. 

“So how do you two know each other?” Barry asks.

“Oh, Patty and I are old friends. We went to MetU together. Figured she could use a break from studying for her masters, so I invited her here for the weekend,” Eddie explains quickly. “Anyways, shall we? I have a table for six back there.” The group moves away from the entrance, and Iris sees that the table in question is a bit larger than the rest. Like all the tables in the club, it is made completely of black marble with a sun-burst design adorning the center. 

As they take their seats, Iris finds herself sitting in between Barry and Patty, with Eddie on Patty’s right, Cisco on Barry’s left, and Cynthia between Cisco and Eddie. Cisco and Cynthia start chatting the moment they get settled, still arguing (rather flirtatiously… and Iris is impressed at how flirtatious they have managed to make patents) about whether or not Cisco should strengthen his future patent, and while Iris is unsure how long they can keep discussing that, they also seem very engrossed in this conversation. Barry nudges Iris’s elbow with his own gently, and she turns to him, and upon seeing his rather conspiratorial grin, she smiles back immediately. Simultaneously, though, Iris can’t help but wonder if Barry hopes to return to the status quo with her.

Would he pretend they hadn’t just nearly kissed? The trouble is, if he planned on not acknowledging the elephant in the room, Iris is unsure if she too can just pretend it didn’t happen. Still, she is aware that they are in public, and this is hardly the place to discuss almost kisses.

“We knew they’d hit it off,” Barry says. “But I don’t think we realized just how well they’d hit it off, especially considering their topic of choice is patents.” 

“They’ve made patents flirty, which I think is a feat that we can’t take credit for. Or maybe we can, tangentially,” Iris teases. “But we definitely can take credit for the secret ingenuity of getting them to meet.”

“You know, I think Linda might have been onto something about that match-making side hustle, after all.” Iris raises her eyebrows, jestingly,

“Change of heart, already? Because I have this distinct memory of you saying that you thought match-making was a bad business to get into.”

“Well, that was when Linda was suggesting it as a solo side hustle for you. But I think if you and I went into business together, this could be quite fun.”

“Perhaps. But what would we call our match-making company?” 

“Hmmm, how about West-Allen Matchmakers, Incorporated? Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“If this were truly a thing, I would reluctantly acquiesce, only because you and I are kind of a dream team.”

“You and I are the dream team,” Barry corrects emphatically, and he’s smiling widely at her and refusing to break their gaze, and she thinks…. she thinks he too must be feeling this intensity that has persistently lingered between them since their almost kiss, and she wonders for just a moment that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way. Her hand comes to rest on the wedding band, just above the bodice of her cocktail dress, and his eyes track the movement, first tracking her neck, then her collar bones, and then the dip of her cleavage which disappears beneath her dress. She thinks she sees his tongue dart out momentarily over his lips, and she feels hot, suddenly, and she’s sure it has nothing to do with the warm, summer night. 

In the end, it’s Patty who interrupts, when she says,

“You know, when I first saw the two of you, despite you saying, Iris, that that gift basket which I presume was for Barry was just for a friend, I could have sworn you two were together.” Barry and Iris are both startled by the reminder that they are not alone, and Iris recovers more quickly and replies with a smile,

“We’ve been best friends for ages.”

“I guess that explains it, then,” Patty observes, although she doesn’t sound entirely convinced.

“Explains what?”

“How the two of you are in your own world together. You didn’t notice, because you were so focused on each other just now, but it’s like it was just the two of you in this world and no one else exists.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Sometimes we get so carried away in our conversations.”

“Yeah,” Barry adds quickly. “You’ll have to forgive us. It’s easy to just get caught up…”

“No, no, please don’t apologize,” Patty laughs, waving off their apologies. “It’s nice, is what I’m trying to say, but as usual, I’m having trouble putting it to words. You both clearly have such a deep connection, and it’s rare to see that. Rare, but nice.” Iris is unsure of how to respond to that, and it seems Barry is equally at a loss for words, but it doesn’t seem to faze Patty, as she continues on, “You know, it’s funny, because Eddie’s family and my family really want us to get married, and we’ve been friends for so, so long, and you know, I joke…,” and here Patty seems slightly less chipper, so Iris wonders if she actually is joking… “That maybe we should just bite the bullet and get hitched, but Eddie thinks it’s a terrible idea.”

“I don’t know if it’s a terrible idea, but I do know that we don’t have feelings for each other,” Eddie responds gruffly, clearly taking offense to what Iris thinks is a rather innocuous conversation. “Our families do want us to get married, and it’s complicated, because we want to oblige our parents, so we often show up to things, like tomorrow’s gala, together for show.” Iris ponders Eddie’s bitter tone, observing that it never ends well when families try to pressure their children into romantic entanglements that are good for business and image. And while she cannot blame Eddie for his anger, she also notices Patty’s expression, and it’s wistfully sad, and Iris realizes then that while Eddie may not have any romantic inclinations towards Patty, Patty does towards him.

So, evidently, she is not the only one dealing with romantic conundrums.

“Barry, Iris, you both know Katie Rogers, right?” Eddie asks, abruptly changing course, and Iris is now completely perplexed, because how in the world did Eddie Thawne know Katie Rogers, who was an old school friend of both Barry and Iris’s, and why was he even asking about her in the first place? Iris had mostly lost touch with Katie after she’d left Central City to join the Gotham City Ballet as a principal ballerina, but Barry had mentioned a couple of weeks ago that he and Katie had recently reconnected.

“We do. We used to go to school together,” Barry replies. “I actually tutor her cousin in organic chemistry, and we know her grandmother, Annette Rogers, quite well.”

“Yes, Katie mentioned to me that she had met you again recently, Barry, at her grandmother’s. She was in town not long ago visiting her family.” Barry nods, but Iris notices Eddie appraising Barry carefully, which is yet another mystery she is itching to solve, because these two seem to really dislike each other, and their sheer distaste for one another makes no sense at all, really, given that they hardly know each other.

“And how do you know Katie?” Iris inquires, immediately in reporter mode, for if she can’t deal with her feelings right now, she can surely get to the bottom of this rather puzzling interpersonal revelation.

“Katie and I met when she danced for the Gotham City Ballet, before she left for the Metropolis Ballet Theater. I was attending the Swan Lake, and she was dancing as Odette and Odile, and I was enchanted, so I waited by her exit point… perks of knowing the theater owner, and I introduced myself. Now, we’re good friends. She actually now performs at the cabaret here.”

“Excuse me?” Barry says, his brow furrowing, just as Iris seeks clarification by asking, 

“Katie dances at the club at your hotel?”

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly in response, as if what he’d just proclaimed made perfect sense, before replying,

“Once in a while, when I beg her. She’s such an exquisite dancer, and we’re old friends, plus she lives in Metropolis now, so every now and then I ask her if she’ll perform at Trajectory.” Iris takes note of Eddie’s emotional tone when he claims that he has to beg Katie to dance at the club, which is so different from his usual mild-mannered disposition; indeed, there is just something about this whole situation that simply does not add up. Maybe it’s the sheer coincidence of it all (and this is the second massive coincidence, the first one being Patty showing up here after Iris’s chance meeting with her on the line at Jitters), but there is something rather unusual about Eddie and Katie’s acquaintanceship. “In fact,” Eddie continues, as Iris scrutinizes him carefully. “She’s dancing here tonight. That’s why I asked about her. In fact, she should be on any minute now.”

“What?” Iris asks sharply, and she notices Barry’s whole demeanor shift from semi-relaxed to overtly alert beside her, but before she can press Eddie about this particular revelation, the lights on the terrace dim, and sultry musical instrumentals fill the speakers of the club. The dance floor lights up, and five dancers appear, performing a rather unexciting number, Iris notes, but despite the choreography, the dancers are still very talented. The principal performer is taller than the rest, and her hair is in a Dutch braid, unlike the high buns on the other dancers, and Iris recognizes her, for she is Katie Rogers. Given how dull the choreography is, Iris is surprised Katie had agreed to perform at Trajectory, because she is clearly quite an impressive dancer, and this cabaret performance seems to be an inadequate display of her skills. The dancers are soon joined by singers, whose styles range from operatic to pop, and the spectacle is most certainly haphazard, but enjoyable enough.

At the end of the cabaret, Iris joins her fellow audience members in polite applause, although some people are emphatically cheering and whistling, and she wonders if they too are putting on a performance. Beside her, Barry seems guarded, his applause perfunctory, and he’s keeping an eye on Eddie instead of the performers, while Eddie is smiling widely at Katie, as the lights return to the rooftop terrace. As Iris’s eyes adjust to the new lighting, she notices that Katie is resolutely avoiding Eddie’s gaze (or perhaps she has not noticed him grinning like he just won the lottery, although that seems unlikely), and instead she’s focusing her attention elsewhere, just a few feet away from Eddie, and in Barry and Iris’s vicinity.

“Barry!” Katie suddenly shrieks, and before Iris can turn questioningly to her best friend, Katie brushes past her, and flings herself into Barry’s arms, before he is even fully off of his feet. Already unbalanced, therefore, with the force of Katie against him, Barry topples backwards slightly, grabbing the edge of the table in an attempt to steady himself, while holding her with one arm. Not quite able to catch his balance, though, he nearly falls backwards onto Cisco, who steadies him with both hands.

“Careful, man,” Cisco warns with a bemused grin, before glancing at Iris questioningly, but Iris simply shrugs, as she, herself, is equally confused. The night, it would seem, keeps getting progressively more bizarre.

Though, Cynthia, for her part, is staring daggers at Katie.

“Sorry,” Barry says, hastily, over his shoulder towards Cisco, before he turns his attention to Katie. “Katie, hi.”

“Barry, it’s so good to see you,” Katie laughs, backing away slightly, her hands lingering on his chest. “I was told you were going to be here, and I had been meaning to call you, because we had had such a good time at dinner two weeks ago… thanks for that amazing dinner at Marano’s, by the way, I definitely needed that, but when I heard you’d be here, I thought what a funny coincidence.”

“Yeah… great to see you too… your performance out there was great,” Barry replies, haltingly, still evidently reeling from Katie’s exuberant greeting, before nodding towards Iris, “Iris is here as well.” Katie swivels around and smiles tightly at Iris,

“Hi, Iris. Gosh, it’s been how long? How are you?”

“It has been a very long time. I’m doing well, Katie, how are you?” Iris responds, warmly, although her mind is working in overdrive, after having witnessed both Katie’s reaction to seeing Barry and the confession that they had had dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant two weeks ago.

It couldn’t possibly be, could it?

            “I’m great. Thank you for coming. Eddie mentioned that your father got married to his godmother, recently. And that Wally has a baby on the way. Time flies.” At the mention of his name, Eddie’s gaze darkens, and he’s regarding Katie almost angrily, at this point, but she still refuses to even look at him.

            What the hell is going on here?

On the one hand, Iris is sure that she does not want to know anything more than she absolutely has to about Katie Rogers or about Eddie Thawne, for that matter, but on the other hand, her investigative reporter instincts were getting the better of her. Or, as Barry frequently says when she gets excited about a potential story, her ‘Spidey’ senses were tingling.

            “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t think I know the rest of the you. I’m Katie Rogers,” Katie carries on, oblivious to Eddie’s haughty gaze, and Cisco introduces himself, cordially, while Cynthia is curt and makes it a point not to shake Katie’s hand. Patty and Katie, who have met before, do not seem particularly friendly with one another, but they exchange perfunctory greetings nonetheless. Notably, Katie fails to acknowledge Eddie at all, which seems to confuse everyone, but nobody is willing to pry. “Anyways, Barry,” Katie continues, turning back to Barry. “It’s wonderful to see you. I really had a great time at dinner and was hoping we would see each other soon. There’s so much we have to catch up on, and hopefully I can wrangle one or maybe more dinners out of you.”

            “Right,” Barry replies, and he is distinctly uncomfortable, but then Katie reaches up and cups his face, and the atmosphere amongst the group shifts immediately. Barry immediately extricates himself from her grasp, removing her hands from his face, and taking a step back, and somehow manages to make the whole act look polite, but Eddie is seething at this point, Patty looks utterly confused, and Cynthia appears to be about one step away from bringing litigious action against Katie Rogers. But Iris can barely concentrate on anyone else, for her heart is pounding in her chest. 

“Sometimes something incredible is right in front of you, and you just have to tell yourself it’s time to throw caution to the wind. A matchmaker can’t tell you that, only you can know that.”

Because Iris remembers, clear as day, what Barry had said at her dad and Cecile’s wedding reception almost a week ago. And ever since, she has been forced to contend with the fact that Barry might potentially be in love with someone, just as she was simultaneously realizing the extent of how deeply in love she is with him. To receive confirmation that Barry’s heart is with another, though, is what she had been absolutely dreading, but nothing could prepare her for the feeling of gut-wrenching heartbreak. It is as if her heart is made of glass that shatters all at once at the realization that Barry and Katie must have gone on a date (because Marano’s is surely not a place that friends who just met up again after many years go to for dinner), and Katie must have been the person Barry was thinking of on Saturday. The timeline makes sense.

            Barry’s reaction to seeing Katie is, however, confusing, for he seems very unenthused at the moment, but Iris is also aware that Barry is extremely polite and dislikes undue attention, so he merely could be uncomfortable by how exuberant Katie is around him, and furthermore, he likely wanted to tell Iris, himself. Barry would not have wanted her to find out he’s dating someone randomly by chance at a club, of that Iris is sure.

            The only piece of the puzzle that does not fit with the rest is the fact that Barry had been about to kiss her just a few hours ago. That seems so far removed from anything that Barry would ever do, when he is in love with someone else, especially because Iris knows how caring and respectful Barry is, but maybe she had misread the situation. After all, they had not actually kissed, as Cynthia had interrupted them, and perhaps, Barry was going to hug her instead. But at the same time, she could have sworn he was staring at her lips in the moments leading up to their near kiss.

            Iris closes her eyes, momentarily, attempting to find some equilibrium in order to carry on for the rest of the evening, but a wave of exhaustion washes over her, and she knows she has to leave. She cannot continue to dignify this ridiculous night with a plastered smile and false cordiality, but she also refuses to ruin Barry’s night or anyone else’s.

            “Iris? Iris?” a soft voice calls out, accompanied by two gentle hands on her bare arms, and Iris knows that voice as well as she knows her own, and of course Barry is already worrying about her, but she also cannot stand to see his concern. Nonetheless, this is a hurdle she must overcome, so she blinks open her eyes to meet his concerned gaze. “Are you alright?” From her periphery, she can see everyone else watching her as well, so she musters up her remaining strength and smiles,

            “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Look, guys, I’m sorry, I’m just feeling a bit tired, so I’m going to head back to my room, if that’s okay?” Eddie and Patty mention that they hope that she feels better, asking if she needs anything, a query that she politely waves off, while Cisco and Cynthia appear very worried, moving closer towards her, but it’s Barry who is going to be the most difficult to shake off, for he pointedly refuses to leave her side.

            “I’ll come with you,” he says, reaching for her hand, but she moves away from him slightly, and when she sees his confusion, she feels terrible, because the last thing she wants to do is give him the impression that she is mad at him, but truthfully she is as angry as she is heartbroken (because she knows they were having a moment earlier in her hotel room, no matter how much she tries to rationalize otherwise… he gifted her a wedding band, for god’s sake), and regardless, she needs space from him, because every time she looks at him, she is reminded of her shattered heart.

            “No, Bear, you should stay. Don’t leave on my account, besides don’t you want to catch up with Katie?” That last part comes out with more acidity than she intended, and Barry’s eyes widen,

            “Iris, no, you’ve—”

            “I’m sorry, Barry. Honestly, all the traveling today is probably just catching up with me. Anyways, I want to give Kamilla a call to make sure there are no new developments from Carver’s end, and I don’t want to be calling her too late, you know? I’ll be fine.”

            “Iris, please let me come with you. We need to talk,” Barry sounds desperate at this point, and Iris just cannot take it anymore, for she absolutely cannot stand the thought of listening to him tell her about why he didn’t mention the extent that he had reconnected with Katie before, and so she shakes her head firmly,

            “No, really, Barry…”

            “I’m coming with you,” Cynthia interjects, for she clearly has no remaining patience listening to this back and forth, and before Iris can protest, Cynthia steers her away from everyone else. When Iris glances over her shoulder, a few moments later, Barry and Cisco have already drifted away from the group, heads bowed closely, and appear to be engaging in a very serious discussion, judging by their solemn expressions.

            “Hey, Iris, wait up!” Eddie calls out, and Iris reluctantly turns around, forcing a polite smile on her face, when all she wants to do is scream that she would like to be left alone. “Sorry, I won’t keep you long, but I just wanted to say thank you for coming.”

            “Of course. Thank you for planning such a lovely night,” Iris lies, for she had had a, quite frankly, terrible night, but that was hardly Eddie’s fault, and he had gone to all this trouble to invite them for what he’d planned to be a nice outing. Before she can turn back, though, he wraps her in a quick, unexpected hug, which she awkwardly returns, patting his back uncertainly.

            “Really, Iris. I truly appreciate you attending,” he says, with a smile, and she nods, trying her best to maintain a façade of politeness,

            “Thank you for inviting me. All of us, for that matter.” They exchange goodbyes, and as Eddie heads back to the group, Iris sees Barry watching her, looking utterly forlorn and dejected and like his whole world has come crashing down around him, and she thinks… god why is he looking at me like that… for surely he can see the heartbreak in her eyes, but then Cisco nudges him, forcefully, and shakes his head firmly when Barry turns to him.

            Cynthia then takes Iris’s hand in her own, before motioning towards the doorway back into the hotel, and Iris nods, and the two make their way out of the club together. In that moment, Iris thinks that the best decision she made was inviting Cynthia to Metropolis, because she cannot imagine surviving this nightmarish weekend without her.

*

            For a few blissful moments when Iris awakes the next morning, the debacle that was last night, culminating in the sort of agonizing heartbreak that she had only previously believed existed in romantic literature, is simply a hazy, improbable dream, but as soon as she becomes aware of where she is, namely in her hotel room at the Time Metropolis, the events of last night come crashing back, like wave after wave upon a shore. Iris groans, tugging a pillow over her face, her head pounding from the onslaught of emotions, and even though she had had one Martini last night, she now figures that having just one was a mistake, and she ought to have taken full advantage of the fact that she was at a club, given how the night turned out.

            She reaches for her phone and sees that the time is just after 6:30 AM, which means that she has a couple of hours before she has to decide whether she can make the trudge down to the dreaded breakfast hall. The thought of having to plaster a smile on her face, in order to curate a false sense of normalcy, and converse with people is utterly nauseating. Plus, she knows full well that Barry might be waiting anxiously to speak with her, and she just cannot face him, not when seeing him would surely reinforce both her heartbreak and anger tenfold. And yet, she also cannot shake how profoundly she loves him. Even just thinking about potentially seeing Barry at the breakfast hall, Iris is reminded of how deeply he is and always has been intertwined with her very soul; there are very few moments in her life that she can recall that do not involve Barry in some capacity. For in her most pivotal memories, Barry has always played a role, at least tangentially, and she realizes then that their relationship has been complicated for years, the two of them constantly hovering on the precipice of romantic love and walking, hand in hand, on a precarious tightrope between the safety of friendship and the unknown expanse of unexplored feelings.

            She recalls nights spent at bowling alleys, where they were playfully competitive, but still never failing to cheer loudly when the other got a strike or a spare. She remembers wiping remnants of ketchup from Barry’s lips, after he’d eaten more than three-quarters of the fries that they would order at Big Belly Burger, the local Central City burger joint, with her fingers. Then, there were those times when he was stressing over his application for the Wells Scholarship for Excellence in Science to fund his DSc, and she would bring over an inordinate amount of baked goods and cheesy films. He’d mumble, sleepily, after they’d worked through all of the sweets and watched at least three movies, about how absolutely amazing she is.

            One of her most telling memories is from her twenty-fifth birthday party, which had been an elaborate surprise that Barry had shockingly manage to pull off, even despite Linda’s usual tendency to tell Iris literally everything, surprise birthday parties notwithstanding. Barry had hosted the party in his old one-bedroom apartment, and there were some thirty people who attended, but lack of square footage aside, he had managed somehow to get Bette Sans Souci, a former high school classmate of theirs, now celebrity chef extraordinaire, to cater for the party. Bette had allegedly told him, “Only because it’s for Iris,” when she’d agreed to cater the event, although Iris still suspects Barry is exaggerating a bit whenever he retells this story, but she appreciates the sentiment all the same. When Iris had arrived at Barry’s, fully expecting to enjoy a quiet night comprising of takeout and a movie, she had been genuinely shocked when she was instead greeted by thirty of her friends screaming, “Happy Birthday!” Barry had snapped a photo of her face, claiming that her look of sheer joy was beautifully priceless. Towards the end of the party, Iris had managed to steal a moment alone with Barry, when she’d found him standing by himself, gazing out of his kitchen window.

            “What are you thinking about?” Iris asks, approaching him slowly. Barry smiles when he sees her, holding out his hand to her, which she takes. He interlaces their fingers.

            “You,” he says, simply, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “More specifically, I’m hoping that you had a good night, because nobody is more deserving of the world’s best party than you, Iris. Not that this is the world’s best party, because honestly, I mean, this small apartment? I think it’s too crammed for the number of people I invited, right? And I’m pretty sure the paint’s coming off the walls in a couple of these rooms, no… I know it is, but I’m glad Bette was able to cater, because that might be the saving grace here, and honestly I’m starting to think I should have hosted it somewhere else…”

            “Barry,” Iris interrupts, placing a hand on his cheek. At the feel of her hand against his cheek, he immediately ceases talking and swallows very slowly. “This is the world’s best party. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have a best friend who plans this for her. I couldn’t have asked for a better night, and the party is amazing, but it’s not the party that I’m lucky to have, Bear. It’s you.” He looks down for a moment, before surging forward, leaning his forehead gently against hers, and she gasps at the sudden movement, but quickly relaxes, savoring the intimacy of their embrace.

“Iris,” Barry whispers. “Do you even know how much I…,” he pauses, for a moment, measuring, perhaps, the magnitude of his words carefully, “…how much I care about you?”

“I think so,” she laughs softly, hoping to diffuse some of the tension that has built up between them. “I hope so.”

“No…,” he sighs. “No, I don’t know if you do, and I don’t… god, it’s my fault, because if I had just… I don’t even know where to begin now.”

“Hey,” Iris says soothingly, framing his face with her hands. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, Bear.” He nods against her forehead, closing his eyes, and they stay like that for a few moments, before Wally races over, seemingly oblivious to Barry and Iris being wrapped up in their own world and apparently in need of Iris’s advice about asking Linda out on a second date.

This memory is particularly painful for Iris, as she wonders what Barry was struggling to tell her that night by the window. She dares not hope that he was attempting to convey that his feelings for her were something more than just friendship, because hope is a most dangerous thing when it came to matters of the heart. If she was not so utterly sure that if she spoke to him now, Barry would simply inform her about whatever it was that was going on between him and Katie (albeit tactfully), Iris might have agreed to speak with him, for (against her better judgment) there was still an ember of hope that burned within her. But for the sake of protecting herself from further heartbreak and humiliation, she could not entertain any remaining hope that she may have, and thus she arrived at the only possible course of action: Avoid Barry Allen. That was really the only option here. Avoiding him during the day would not be particularly challenging, for she would just stay in her room and stealthily sneak out to meet her father and Cecile when they arrive later this morning, but it was the gala that could be cause for some serious trouble, because Barry would be there, and Iris could not possibly dodge him at every turn without it becoming extremely obvious. There is also the likelihood that she might very well lose her resolve completely the moment he looks at her again the way he had last night, like a lost, sad puppy.

Her phone buzzes, and she glances over at the screen, where she is alerted to the fact that she has one unread message from Cynthia (and none from Barry, which disappoints Iris more than she expects, and the ember of hope dims considerably). The message from Cynthia reads:

“You promised we’d chat this morning, so consider this your reminder. I know you’re going to hide out in your room, which is totally fair, but I’m coming over right now.”

Iris is unsurprised by Cynthia’s adamancy, especially because she had indeed promised that they would have a long talk this morning. When Iris had returned to her room last night, she had managed to avoid having to admit to Cynthia that she was in love with Barry and that she was absolutely devastated by what she’d just learned, by citing exhaustion. Cynthia had reluctantly acquiesced, but only after Iris had promised her that they would talk tomorrow morning, and it would be typical of Cynthia to show up before 7AM.

            Sure enough, there is a knock at the door, and Iris opens it and sees her friend standing before the threshold.

“Hey,” Iris says, tiredly.

“Hey, you okay?” Cynthia asks, concerned, and Iris is not sure what comes over her in that moment, but perhaps it’s the realization that she is absolutely not okay that overwhelms her right then. And now, having to face the reality of finally vocalizing how she’s been feeling, while trying to protect the shattered remnants of her heart, the notion that she truly is not okay is the catalyst. She had not cried last night, but now tears spill over her cheeks, a sob escapes her, and soon she is weeping, her hands covering her face, and Cynthia murmurs, while closing the door behind her,

“Oh, Iris.” And then Iris feels Cynthia’s arms come around her, holding her, soothing her, and finally, she allows herself to be comforted.

*

“You know,” Cynthia remarks, while clasping a crystal encrusted barrette onto her hair, slightly left of her parting. “I can always sue Katie Rogers, Eddie Thawne, and Barry for NIED. Say the word, and I’ll do it.” They are currently readying themselves for the gala, which officially begins in one hour, and Cynthia is positively stunning in a floor length, backless forest green gown, adorned with a myriad of sequins.

“And who would the plaintiff be, exactly?” Iris asks, still not dressed for the night yet, as she is trying to figure out what jewelry she is going to wear to accompany her red, floor length gown, a feat that was proving difficult, because she keeps eyeing the velvet box which contained the replica of her mother’s wedding band, which makes it nearly impossible to pick out a different necklace.

“Honestly? Me. Because I found what happened last night to be extremely, negligently harmful no matter how forcefully Barry will likely argue that he was unwittingly involved. Thawne is getting sued, specifically for inviting us to that crap show, which, just by being present at, mind you, had a dire effect on my psychological state.”

“We don’t even know what happened last night or what’s really going on, and even if we did know, your argument is a non-starter, especially because you typically find the vast majority of people that you meet to be annoying and claim that they are somehow guilty of NIED.”

“True, but I can spin a legal argument from nothing,” Cynthia smirks, and Iris rolls her eyes, but chuckles nonetheless. She is unsure of how Cynthia manages to come up with the most ridiculous and unsubstantiated legal arguments when not in a courtroom, but then again, she supposes that as a top litigator, Cynthia’s occasional legal theatrics are most definitely forgivable.

But then, Cynthia says, “I got you to smile and that was the ultimate goal.” Iris looks up at Cynthia, who has a soft smile on her face, and she smiles back, once again reflecting on how very glad she is that her friend is here with her. She knows Cynthia wants to properly converse about what happened last night, but she isn’t rushing Iris into the conversation, despite the fact that they did spend the entire day together and still had not really talked about last night.

To be sure, they had not spoken much about anything, though, because they frankly had not had the chance to. Cynthia had stayed with Iris that morning, first comforting her, as she had cried for a good half hour, and subsequently they had ordered room service and flipped through the channels available via the hotel’s cable service for a couple of hours, until Iris’s father called her to inform her that he and Cecile were roughly fifteen minutes away from the Time Metropolis. As Iris had gotten ready to meet her family outside the hotel, Cynthia had offered to join Iris, a request for which Iris had been eternally grateful, because she knew her dad would notice immediately that she was not herself, and so she could use the additional moral support. Upon meeting her father and Cecile, Joe had indeed commented that Iris appeared very tired, and she had shrugged it off, citing the cabaret the previous night as the obvious reason for her exhaustion, but Joe hadn’t been convinced.

“No, you look like somebody crushed your world,” he had commented, concern evident in his voice. She had laughed at that, because it sounded so dramatically absurd, and yet it was also truer than her father even realized.

“Dad, come on. I’m fine,” she had replied, quickly ushering her father and Cecile into the hotel lobby, as a couple of staff members took their luggage. Hoping to sway her father away from his suspicions, she had asked, “How was your flight?” Joe did not answer, instead watching her closely, but Cecile started chatting about their journey, which was a most welcome distraction for Iris. At the time, she knew her father was not going to let up so easily, for the mere fact that she was trying her hardest to appear nonchalant was enough to cause him concern, but he was unlikely to press the issue right at that moment.

Now, Iris knows that the longer that she stalls, the more likely it becomes that she will have to confront her heartbreak in her father’s presence, so she gathers her gown and makeup and heads to the bathroom to get ready, for there is only one mirror in the room, which Cynthia is currently utilizing. After laying her gown out on the edge of the marble counter, Iris stares at herself in the mirror and takes a few deep breaths. I can get through this. I need to get through this. Barry had not called her the entire day, nor had he messaged her, and in a way, this made Mission Avoid Barry Allen considerably easier, but she cannot help but feel a pang of sadness, because if Barry was not making the effort to speak with her now, then her original understanding of what had been revealed last night must be accurate. The shattering pain of heartbreak only worsens at this realization, but she refuses to allow this to dictate her night.

Instead, she busies herself by getting ready, first applying her makeup and then turning to her outfit for the night. Her red gown is a sight to behold, and she is aware of this, as she puts it on; the bodice hugs her figure like a glove, while the skirt tumbles elegantly over her legs and down to her feet. When she glances back up at the mirror to put on her dangling earrings, she makes a decision: as difficult as this night would most certainly be, she is going to make the most of it and ensure that her father and Cecile have a memorable soirée.

As she contemplates this, she hears a knock at the hotel room door outside, and subsequently, the door opening.

“Hi, Joe.” She hears Cynthia greet her father, and Iris is aware that her father has decided to come by, no doubt, to speak with her. So much for making it through the night.

“Hi Cynthia, I just wanted to stop by and see if Iris is around to speak for a few minutes,” Joe replies.

“Of course. Iris, your dad’s here!” And then Iris can here some shuffling around, before Cynthia announces, “Got my shoes. I’ll give you some time to speak with Iris privately. Anyways, I told Cisco that I would meet up with him before the party starts.”

“Thank you. I will see you at the gala.” Iris hears the door close, and she presumes that Cynthia has left. Upon hearing that Cisco and Cynthia are meeting up early, Iris smiles. At least they seem to be enjoying each other’s company very much, so perhaps there is a silver lining to this weekend, after all.

But, Iris is also acutely aware that her father is waiting for her and that she cannot put off this conversation any longer, so she looks into the mirror one last time, releasing a final deep breath, before exiting the bathroom. Upon her reentrance into the main area of the hotel room, her father looks up and smiles. “There you are,” he says. “You look beautiful, baby girl.”

“Thanks dad,” Iris replies, returning his smile, just as Joe walks over and envelopes her in a hug.

“What’s going on, Iris? And don’t say nothing,” he interrupts, just as she opens her mouth to protest. “I know there’s something wrong. I knew it from the moment I saw you this morning, but I wasn’t going to press you then. But clearly something happened this weekend.”

“Dad, please. It’s not a big deal. I’m just stressed from work and Carver suing the Citizen, and I don’t know… I guess the exhaustion from the last few weeks has caught up with me finally.” To be fair, that is not wholly untruthful. She is feeling the aftereffects of stress from the amount of work that had gone into the exposé.

“Iris, if I thought that was all this is about, I wouldn’t ask. I know you can handle pretty much anything, but this is different. And I know you’re grown and can deal with whatever it is going on, but I don’t want you to pretend you’re fine, because that solves nothing.”

“Yeah,” Iris murmurs, closing her eyes momentarily, and when she opens them, her father is regarding her earnestly. Taking a deep breath, she continues, “You’re right, it’s just… it’s Barry.” Joe’s lips quirk up slightly, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “I don’t know, dad. Barry and I have been fine, you know. I mean, we’re always fine. Until I… I’m not even sure how it happened, because one minute we’re friends. As we always have been. Seeing each other almost every day and catching up. And I don’t know when I realized it, but I… I love him, dad.” Her voice breaks slightly on love, for it is such an overwhelming feeling, being able to vocalize that she’s in love with Barry. She immediately feels her dad’s arm come around her shoulders as he hugs her to him.

“This might come as a surprise to you, but I’ve known you’ve been in love with that boy for many years,” Joe says, and Iris looks up at her dad, startled. Had her feelings been that obvious that her father knew she loved Barry before even she had realized it?

“How…”

“I know you, Iris. You’re so kind and so good, and you’re always trying to help everyone. But when you and Barry first met as children in the playground, and you ran over and reached out a hand to help him up when he tumbled off the swing and into the dirt, there was this different energy between the both of you, and it only became stronger over the years. You don’t know the way you look at him, but I see it. You probably don’t realize the way he looks at you either. But I know Barry too; he grew up just two doors down, and he looks at you like you are the sun and he has since the moment he first saw you.” At that, Iris is further surprised and confused, shaking her head,

“Dad, no, that’s impossible. Barry isn’t in love with me; he’s in love with someone else.”

“And you know that how?” Joe asks, raising his eyebrows, completely and utterly unconvinced at the implication that Barry Allen is in love with someone other than Iris West.

“Because it all came out last night. It’s not… it doesn’t matter.”

“Did Barry tell you he was in love with someone else?”

“Well, he didn’t say it in so many words,” Iris begins, just as Joe asks,

“Did he say it any words at all?” This gives Iris pause, for Barry had not said specifically that he was dating Katie, for that matter, but surely that was what he had been attempting to explain to her, before she had left. Katie revealed that they had gone out to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant, and it is not as if Barry disputed the fact, although he had been distinctly put off by her exuberance. But that might have simply indicated that he was uncomfortable by the level of scrutiny directed his way, thanks to Katie’s apparent inability to keep anything private. And yet, Iris can’t get that look he had given her, like his world had just been completely shattered, as she was leaving the club, out of her head.

Because if she is being wholly honest with herself, Iris knows that part of the impetus behind Mission Avoid Barry Allen is the fear that in whatever conversation she has with Barry, she would have no choice but to tell him the truth, and their equilibrium will be completely altered forever.

“No,” she finally replies. “I left before he could say anything. And honestly, dad, part of the reason why I ran away before speaking with him is just that… I guess, our friendship has been a safe harbor. We’ve always sought solace in one another, but the moment I tell him, everything changes, and I risk losing that safe harbor.”

“It seems,” Joe says with a knowing smile. “The two of you have a lot to talk about.” Iris nods, silently, as her father continues, “Iris, the most important thing you can do is be honest with yourself and with him. Sometimes, change is inevitable, and it is often a good thing, because you may not necessarily be risking anything. Talk to him and see what happens.”

“Yeah, I suppose that I can’t keep avoiding the inevitable,” Iris replies, before smiling gratefully at her father. “Thanks, dad.”

“Anytime, baby girl. Remember, I am so, so proud of you. Of the woman you have grown to be and of all that you have accomplished. And I always will be.” A wave of emotion washes over Iris, and she looks up at her father, who appears equally emotional.

“I love you, dad,” she says.

“I love you too, Iris.” Joe then mentions that they can head down to the gala whenever Iris is comfortable, but as grateful as she is for her dad’s concern and support, she knows they ought to not keep Cecile waiting, so she tells him she’ll meet them by the elevator.

“Are you sure?” Joe queries, but Iris is certain in her convictions now, which is a most welcome change from the lack of clarity she had been grappling with all weekend.

“Absolutely, dad. I’m okay. I’ll be right out.” Her father nods, kissing the side of her head, before exiting her hotel room. Now, there is just one thing left to do; she walks over to the small bedside table and picks up the velvet box containing the replica of her mother’s wedding band. Upon opening the box, she carefully removes the necklace, unclasps the hook, and puts it on.

Now, come what may, she is ready to face the world.

#westallen #westallen secret santa #submission

[mysingularitybts]

Glances a Jung Hoseok One-Shot

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x famous!reader

Genre: romance, 

Warnings: none 

Here I was at another big fancy event. Don't get me wrong it was an amazing opportunity and it showed how far I had come in my career. I was honored to be invited to the Variety Hitmakers Brunch, yet I detested how snotty everyone here was.

All award shows of sorts were always the same thing, people bragging about what they won. It seems they forget the reason we are here is to celebrate the music that has the power to change many people's lives. Even the dirtiest songs have the power to help a person. Music can lift people's moods, give them closure, become their relationship songs, give warmth to a romantic moment. Music is always in our lives one way or another making every moment better. It's why it's so crucial in moviemaking. It sets the mood and without it, everything would be much less anticlimactic and boring.

Back to the point at hand, it's not so much the artists who I frown upon, it's the people behind them. Managers and CEO's, they suck the life out of events treating it like a business (which it is for them). Their greedy eyes looking for the next collaboration, for the next hit. They whisper in your ears making you think it's your idea, but it's not. It's all part of their master plan to make more money, to make you do most of the work. Having barely any regard for your health or wants or needs.

I don't want to say it's like I describe all the time because it's not, but a lot of them are like that. I'm one of the lucky few who got a good team behind them. It was no easy task though I failed many times and people failed me, somehow, I managed to get through it. I had my family and friends to pick me up every time I fell and made a mistake. Eventually, I found my amazing manager Carly and she led me to my amazing record label.

It's been five years since I've been in the music industry officially. It all started when I was 16 and had a dream of becoming a successful singer. How naïve I was thinking it was just going to be me signing to my heart's content. HA! It was eventually, but first I had to learn to produce, to practice singing, and to practice dancing. I had to face failure every time my CEO said she didn't like my new song or theme. Having to start over again to come out with something that satisfied her. After finally coming out with an album I loved with all my heart and it being a success I also had to face a lot of hatred and as a 17-year-old girl, it hits you hard. Other than the hatred I also had to manage my personal life and learn to adapt to a new way of life.

It's all in the past now. I learned how to ignore the hate to my best ability. I learned to focus on the fans that loved my work. To hear them out and become even better. There were a lot of things that happened in between, but I like to think they don't matter anymore as long as I learned my lesson. Although my dream to become a singer was very different from what I imagined, I didn't regret it one bit. It led me to where I was right now receiving an award for artist of the year at the Vanity Hitmakers Brunch.

Walking around with Carly leading the way I saw a lot of my colleagues and friends. Depending on what they were doing whether that was being interviewed or simply talking amongst each other I'd wave hello or stop and talk to them. These award things could be reunions between friends since it was hard at times to meet up with everybody since we were all on tour or filming or in different parts of the globe. It was one of the reasons I still came to these events the other reason being the fans. I owed them my success so if seeing me in an award show made them happy then I would go. I would also fangirl over other artists. Can you blame me? I'm only a human that likes listening to people's music.

As I walked around, I saw Billie Eilish, an amazing artist I collaborated with a few months ago. I liked her since she also saw the truth behind this industry, we had an understanding about it and that made us bond. I could only wave since she was in a conversation with one of the organizers of the awards.

As I kept walking and looking around my eyes landed on seven gorgeous men. My jaw dropped not only because of their beauty but because of who they were. It was none other than BTS. My heart raced; I have been a fan of their music since practically the beginning. How did I not know they were going to be here? I've always wanted to meet them, but we never coincided on any past award shows because for some reason every time they went, I had something else going on. I hated myself for it.

With sweaty palms, I debated on going over to them. I mean they were probably busy talking to somebody else yet nobody was approaching them. They even seem bored. Why was that? They were an amazing band that everybody wanted to collaborate with or be seen with. It just didn't make sense. Maybe it was the language barrier? It could be since not many American artists knew Korean.

With that thought in mind, I hung my head in defeat since I didn't know Korean either. Disappointed I turned around to leave when I almost slapped myself across the face in realization. One of them knows English surely with his help you could get the point across that you were a huge fan and not only that, but this dumb bitch also knows Korean.

How could I forget I know a whole other language is beyond me, but it happened. Thank you Nari for teaching me. Nari is my best friend we have known each other since preschool and are still very close. Her parents moved to the United States from Korea when she was still just a baby.

While I was in school my parents often were not around much so the Seong family took care of me until they got off work. Thus, I learned the Korean language and a bit of its culture. Plus, I gained a whole other family who I love very much.

Shaking my thoughts away I began walking over to them. My hands trembling in excitement, my inner fangirl begging to come out. I kept her locked up though because I did not want to make a fool out of myself. As I got closer, I saw Jimin look my way from his spot on one of the sofas that were around the tents.

When I got to where they were, they all stopped talking between themselves and looked up at me. Eyes wide not knowing what to expect.

With a gulp, I bowed and with a trembling voice said in Korean, "Hello, my name is y/n and I am a huge fan of your work." I crossed my fingers hoping my Korean didn't fail me.

With anxiousness, I waited for their response. Suddenly it vanished as Jungkook smiled up at me, stood up and shook my hand.

"Hello y/n, I'm Jeon Jungkook I'm glad you enjoy our work." He said smiling brightly at me.

I almost fainted seeing as 1/7 of BTS was standing in front of me shaking my hand. I was never going to wash my hand again. Gathering my wits, I kept on smiling as the introductions kept going around.

Once all introductions were done, which I think weren't necessary, they made a space for me to sit with them.

"I got to say I didn't expect anybody here to speak our language," Yoongi said from his seat as he looked at me.

"Oh, I only know because of my best friend. She's also Korean and taught me everything I know," I explained, "If I say anything wrong, blame her," I finished joking.

"No, you are doing very well, your friend did a good job," Hoseok said from his spot beside me.

"I have to say I am also a big fan of your music," he then said abashedly.

"Really?!" I said surprised not expecting them to know much about my music.

"Yeah, he has followed your music for about two years now," Taehyung exclaimed as he shot Hoseok a teasing smile.

"He even has a collection of your albums," Jin blurted out trying to get the point across.

"Yah, stop it you are embarrassing me," Hoseok told them, trying to play it cool and hide his blushing face.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. It makes me so happy that you enjoy my music!" I honestly said holding my hands close to my heart.

It was one thing to meet your idols but for them to also know your music is another level. I felt proud of myself since I looked up to them and their work.

We sat in the middle of the tent talking to our heart's content for a while. I was glad I had the guts to talk to them seeing as they no longer looked so serious or bored. I guess they were just a little lonely and wanted some company. Talking to them felt easy. I thought it would be a bit more awkward, but I was proven wrong. They knew how to hold a conversation. We talked about everything from their upcoming music to my music, to the places we've traveled, and about the awards in itself. There was never a boring moment; they made everything entertaining or interesting.

It was when we were laughing loudly about something Jimin said that my manager came to tell me it was time to go find our seats since the ceremony would begin shortly. With a disappointed sigh, I went to stand up and say goodbye to BTS.

"Well, guys I guess this is goodbye," I started saying sadly, "It was great meeting you, I hope I get to see you again."

"I hope so too," Taehyung said enthusiastically, "I had a lot of fun talking to you."

I looked at them as I bid my farewells. When I got to Hoseok he looked as if he wanted to tell me something but couldn't bring himself to.  Yoongi, noticing his reaction, took matters into his own hands.

"Hey y/n, how about we take a picture to remember this day?" he asked, offering a smile.

"Let's do it!" I responded.

They all stood up and got into position. It was Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, me, Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jin. I felt as Namjoon wrapped an arm around my shoulders and Hoseok partially wrapped his arm around my waist not quite touching me. Something strange happened to me as I felt very aware of his body heat, touch, and the smell of his cologne.

Once the pictures were taken, I felt disappointed as he stepped away from me. Disregarding those thoughts, I shook my head and bid them goodbye once again. I couldn't believe I had met BTS wait until I told Nari. She is going to freak out and ask me all kinds of questions. I would be able to fangirl with her, but until then I'd have to hold it in.

The awards went, as usual, I cheered on my fellow friends and colleagues, yet I cheered a little louder for my new friends BTS, they truly deserved the award. As someone who has seen them from the beginning, I could say they worked very hard to get to where they are now and had been through some tough times. Not only did they manage to become successful in Korea, but they also paved the way for many Korean artists to get recognized in the United States.

Once the awards ended and all the photoshoots and speeches were done, I found myself walking to the back entrance of the building to get to the SUV waiting for me. My feet were killing me making my back hurt, the makeup on my face felt uncomfortable, and not to mention the dress I was wearing got scratchier the more I had it on.

Deep into my thoughts, I didn't hear a voice calling out to me until Carly nudged her elbow into my side. I looked at her questioningly and she pointed over to the man walking over to me his dimpled smile being a welcoming sight.

"Oh, sorry Namjoon I didn't hear you, what's up?" I spoke as I stopped walking waiting for him to catch up.

"Don't worry, it happens to all of us, I wanted to ask if you were going to the after-party?" he asked as he tilted his head in question. It was a cute sight not going to lie.

"No, I'm not a big fan of after-parties they get too wild," I explained.

"In that case, would you like to meet up with us in a few hours after we get out of here?" he eagerly asked "We are not big fans either of American after-parties. They get awkward for us because of the language barrier," he finished saying.

"I understand," I told him reassuringly, "Count me in."

"We'll stay at our hotel and celebrate there. I'll send you the address," he stated, giving me a smile, his eyes closing at the same time.

"I'll see you there!"

"One more thing!" He exclaimed, "Come in comfortable clothes it'll just be us hanging out, no need for fancy clothing," he then finished explaining seeing my confused face.

"Even better, this dress has been getting more uncomfortable the more I wear it," I said relieved that I wouldn't have to dress up again.

It was fun dressing up, but it got uncomfortable quickly.

"See you later?" Namjoon asked one more time as he started walking away.

"Definitely," I replied as I waved him goodbye.

As soon as I got to my apartment, I took a quick shower and changed into a pair of high waisted leggings and a cropped hoodie. I didn't do much with my makeup, just applied some tinted moisturizer, did my eyebrows, applied some mascara, and some lip balm. Trust me compared to what I was wearing earlier this was nothing. As I got ready Namjoon sent me a text with the address of the hotel and what time I should get there. Luckily the hotel wasn't that far, and I had about an hour to spare. So, I did the only reasonable thing. I took a nap. After my nap, I realized it was time to go.

When I arrived at the hotel, I quickly made my way up to the room Namjoon told me about. As I got closer to the door, I heard a lot of loud voices, yup, I was definitely in the right place.

I knocked on the door and waited for somebody to open it. I didn't have to wait long when Hoseok confusedly opened the door.

"Y/n?" he asked surprised.

"Yeah? Hi Hoseok," I greeted smiling up at him.

"I didn't know you were coming," he confessed, still looking confused.

"Oh, I invited her," Namjoon began saying, "I guess I forgot to tell you, Sorry Hobi."

"Yah Hoseok let her in already," Jin yelled from his place on the sofa.

Hurriedly Hoseok got out of the way and gestured me in. I walked inside and noticed they were all dressed comfortably too in Jeans and their signature Hoodies. As I looked around somebody ran up to me and engulfed me in a hug. When they stepped back, I realized it was Taehyung.

"Hi, Taehyung!" I greeted him.

"Y/n I'm so glad you're here!" he said excitedly, "I was getting bored with these people around." He then said seriously.

I started laughing when I heard a hurt "Hey!" from Jimin.

Unbeknownst to me, Taehyung was sending Hoseok a teasing smile as he glared at him not liking the proximity between us.

"What were you guys up to?" I asked curiously.

"Nothing much we were going to start a live soon," Jungkook answers as he set up a tripod in front of the sofa.

"Oh! In that case let me know so I can scooch over a corner while you talk to army," I told them kindly.

"Nonsense you get to be with us in the live," Jimin said from his place on the dining table the hotel offered.

"Are you sure?" I questioned with uncertainty, "I know you guys don't usually have guests in your lives."

BTS usually didn't do lives with other people. They did them mainly amongst themselves. I didn't know how army would take it if they had somebody else with them, especially a girl. They would certainly have something to say about it.

"We're sure. Don't worry, it'll be fun!" Hoseok said from behind me as he patted my shoulder.

As soon as the setup was done we all gathered around the sofa. Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi sat on the L shaped sofa while Taehyung, Hoseok, and I sat on the floor leaving me in between them.

Surprisingly the live went very smoothly and it was a lot of fun. I didn't see many hate comments just questioning ones as to why I was there. The guys introduced me as their new friend and as we went along the live there were opportunities for me to get to know them a bit better.

While I sat there, I felt as Hoseok's leg pressed against mine, making me feel flustered. Warmth spread through me the more the live went on. At some point he whispered something in my ear in a low voice that made me lose focus on what was happening around me. He was doing things to me I couldn't explain. I wonder if he also felt the same things I did. Towards the end of the live I couldn't focus anymore. The strange thing was that Taehyungs leg was also very close to mine and he even had his arm around me for some time, yet that did not bother me in any way.

When the live ended my thoughts were interrupted by Jimin giving out a yell as he opened a bottle of champagne. Deciding not to think of my bodies reaction to the rapper beside me I shook my head and accepted the glass Namjoon offered me.

I was glad I came to what I now call the BTS afterparty. The guys were amazing and came up with the weirdest games.

Throughout the night I couldn't help but sneak glances at Hoseok. My eyes always wondered to him without my consent and whenever he spoke my attention would instantly be on him. At one point when I turned to look at him, he was already staring at me very intensely. I tried to hold eye contact, his eyes were very dark and alluring causing me to get lost in them, feeling as if I had fallen into a dark abyss. There was so much emotion in his gaze, I got overwhelmed and looked away. I felt as a blush crept up my cheeks and as I looked back up again, he gave me a smirk.

Wasn't Hoseok supposed to be the sunshine of the group? This wasn't sunshine, sure it was fiery but it was also sinful and flirty and dark.

After a while and I decided I had enough to drink so I got up to leave. I wasn't drunk or tipsy but if I kept drinking, I would get there. I bid my farewells promising to see them again soon and left the room. As the doors to the elevator started to close a hand stopped them and a man came in.

Looking up at him I confusedly asked, "Hoseok?"

"Y/n wait," he said rushed.

"What is it?" I asked nervously.

It was only the two of us in the elevator and as I recalled all the glances and grins he gave me back in the room, I started growing nervous. I stuck my hands in the front pocket of my hoodie to try and hide their trembling.

He got very close to me, our chests almost touching. He leaned his face down towards mine. I felt his hands graze my cheeks with his breath mixing with mine. He got closer, his lips brushing on mine until he pulled away. I hadn't realized I had closed my eyes but as he grew the distance between us, I opened them in confusion, disappointment reflecting in them. I was breathless even though the kiss didn't happen and as I looked at him, he was the same way.

Hoseok still had his hands on my face and I felt as he grazed his thumb on my lips. For some reason, he also had a disappointed look on his face. I wonder why, he could have kissed me if he wanted, plus,  he was the one in control of the whole situation. He could have done anything and I wouldn't have protested.

"Let me take you out on a date first," he said, answering my silent question.

I could only nod but that was not enough for him.

He got closer again but this time it was to whisper in my ear, "I need to hear you say it."

His voice was low and raspy. I couldn't stop the goosebumps from arising on my skin.

"Y-Yes, I'd, um, love to go on a date with you," I felt like a schoolgirl as I stuttered.

I jumped as I felt the elevator ding signaling it had arrived at its destination. Somehow without me noticing he had stepped away taking his warmth with him and leaving me cold.

"I'll see you soon for our date, y/n," he then said cheerfully, his attitude changing completely from before.

"Bye Hoseok," I said perplexed at the sudden change.

I walked away from the elevator but turned to look back. There he was staring at me again as the door closed and just before they did, he sent me a wink as a seductive smile made its way to his lips.

A/N: I don't think I've ever written anything like this. So, if you guys enjoyed it please let me know and make sure to like and reblog to show your support.

Im still shocked at what I wrote. It honestly started as an innocent idea but towards the end something like happened. It's not smutty but like I tried to write a tension between them.

Did you feel it? Did it need more?

Please let me know!

See you guys later ;) 💜 x

-Nikki Marie

#kim seokjin #min yoongi #Jung HoSeok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #BTS v #bts rm #BTS jin #bts suga #bts jhope #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts imagination #bts oneshot #bts oneshots #bts reactions #bts reacciones #bts gifs #bangtanarmynet #bangtan army #bangtan seonyondan #bts #imagine #imagines #bts gif #jeon jungkook x reader

[that-one-girl-behind-you]

Illicio 14/?

Part 13

And really, Gerry should really know better than to underestimate an angry Martin by now; he flinches back when the door flies open without any warning.

"It's not that hard, just leave. Me. Alone." Martin snaps, and the sight of him makes Gerry's stomach drop. There's streaks of gray in his hair, and neither emotion nor color left in the eyes pinning Gerry down. "You have to stop meddling in my business."

Gerry takes a deep breath, before squaring his shoulders. "You know I'm just trying to hel-"

"Well, I don't want your help. We're not- we're nothing, Gerard. I don't care about whatever promise you made to Jon-"

"This is not about Jon-"

"Yes it is!" Martin's eyes harden. "And guess what? You won, you have him. Now leave me alone."

XIV

It's alright. It's okay, he- he can still make it out of here. Martin bats at the wisps of fog that come to curl around him; he can- someone will find him.

Tim will notice he's not at his flat. If... if Tim comes back, of course. If he and Basira and Gerry and Jon didn't all get killed in this ritual.

If Martin is not alone again.

But he- he isn't, is he? Even... even if worst comes to worst, Daisy and Melanie are still at the Archives. They have to realize something is not right, they- they have to care, don't they? It's what Gerry said the week before they left. They- they're a team. They decided to be a team, whether they like it or not, so they- even if they don't care about Martin, they have to-

The fog wraps tighter around him.

Who is he trying to fool? He's- he's been pushing them away for months. Why would they care about him, when all they have to go on is Jon's word that he's doing this for them? Melanie was clearly uncomfortable this evening -was it this evening? Is time the same here?-, probably only tolerating the awkward silence at Martin's office because Gerry asked her to keep an eye on him.

And- and Gerry really is just looking out for him as a favor to Jon, isn't he? Jon, who has moved on, but feels guilty about leaving Martin behind, just like Tim, who is only really there because he has nowhere else to go.

It's- should he feel worse about that? Should he feel any way about that?

Something pulls at him. The crackling of fire, and brewing coffee for someone he can't remember. The scent of lavender, and the feeling of exasperation that comes with it. The memory of a crooked smile.

It all makes something churn in his stomach, and Martin shakes his head. The fog gets thicker and thicker the deeper he walks into it.

"Hm... you've made it quite far in. I'm impressed," comes a voice to his left, like a demon on his shoulder. "I must admit, I was worried those two fools might have held you back too much, but I shouldn't have. You really are a natural for this."

"What are you doing here, Peter?" Martin asks, itching to move away from the man and back into the blessed silence of the Lonely.

Peter chuckles, clearly satisfied. Martin still can't see him through the fog, but just the thought of being addressed has him recoiling. "Well, loathe as I am to have to say this, I should pull you out before your guard dogs make it back to the Institute."

"I... don't think I want to go." Martin mutters almost to himself. The outside world, with all the color and the noise, with people swarming around him...

"You're not quite ready to stay. You could die here, Martin." Peter's pleased smile is audible in his voice.

"I don't think I would." This time Martin speaks with the utmost certainty.

"No, I don't think you would, either." Peter chuckles again. Martin focuses on the fog around him, tries to bend it to thicken enough to drown out Peter's presence. "Promising. I'm proud." The compliment comes through muted, as though Martin is hearing it from far away.

It's better, but not enough.

"I don't care." Martin can feel the Lonely thinning around him as the real world solidifies, and he clings desperately to the last of it. He can't go back. He doesn't want to go back to a world where he's nothing, no matter how hard he tries. Where he's pitied for not being enough to be loved. "Peter-"

"Bring it back, then." Peter says, almost too sharply; Martin flinches back in the empty office. There is no fog to hide in anymore, and the man's ice-cold stare is much too focused on him. "If you want it, call it back."

Objectively, Martin knows he shouldn't.

If what Peter said is true, the others will be back soon. Tim will... will Tim worry about him? Will Gerry? Jon has already given up on him, because he asked.

Because Martin wasn't worth fighting for.

The corners of the office start blurring again, but it's not enough. It's not enough, and Martin won't be able to hide from Gerry when he comes to get more information, or from Tim when he tries to force a conversation because he thinks the fact that they were almost friends once means something still.

"It's decent, I suppose. You'll have to work a little harder to make up for the lost time," Peter says, and chuckles again when Martin ignores him. "Remember our deal, Martin. We're almost there."

His voice fades in a whistle of static, and Martin looks up in time to watch, boiling with envy, as the last of the fog evaporates after taking the man away.

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"I need your rib," Tim says as soon as he barges through the door of Jon's office.

"Yes, for sure, Tim," Jon nods absentmindedly, lost in the steady trickle of Knowledge about a specific statement giver. He starts pulling the desk drawer open when the situation registers in his mind, and he looks up. "Wait- how do you know I have- why do you want my rib?"

"Melanie mentioned it. Also, I'm going to kill you." Tim shrugs.

Jon blinks. "I'm sorry, what?"

"It's 'symbolic' apparently," Tim marks the quotes with his fingers and Jon knows exactly what he thinks of the whole thing without having to peek into his thoughts. "I need closure, and I'm very aware if I kill you for real either Daisy or your boyfriend are going to kill me, and Martin will, I don't know, give me a very strong look of disappointment."

"So you're going to... kill my rib?"

"Listen, I told Melanie I was willing to risk your bodyguards but she doesn't think I can take any of them. Real blow to my self-esteem, by the way." Tim crosses his arms over his chest, and Jon holds back his snort. It probably wouldn't be too well received.

"I can imagine." He looks down at the open drawer. He remembers the feeling of Hopworth's big, meaty hand tearing at his insides, tugging the bone free with a well practiced move. Tim deserves it. Tim deserves so much more, for what he's had to give up. And if the only thing he's asking for is this- "you can have it, then."

"...Huh. I can?" Tim asks, and Jon Knows a lot of details all of a sudden. Tim is surprised. Tim is relieved. Tim is nervous. Tim is afraid. Tim never thought of a world in which Jon no longer holds any hope of being forgiven, whether Tim wants to forgive or not. "Good. Good then I'll-"

"I don't expect anything, Tim." Jon interrupts. "I- a lot happened. And I didn't act as I should have, I know. We were- you deserved better than what you got for me." He offers the rib on his outstretched hand, the stark white of the bone even more startling against his skin. "Go- go kill me."

It's as if time stops between them for a moment, and Jon wonders if any of them is actually breathing. Tim's messy thoughts and feelings reach him like darts, stabbing quick and sharp through him, only to fade right away.

Why? Jon. Hate. Familiar. Abandoned. Why? Hurt. Home. Alone. Betrayal. Hate. Why?

Tim snatches the rib from Jon's hand, his fist so tight around the bone his knuckles match the color perfectly. He looks like he's going to say something for a moment -Jon can't Know what it is, because Tim himself isn't sure-, but in the end he just nods sharply at Jon, and slams the door behind him when he leaves.

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"-just wish Peter would spend less time trying to convince me his new power is real, and more time telling me what he plans to do about it." The voice comes through the cracked door, and Gerry smiles, amused. He can practically see Martin rolling his eyes, like Peter Lukas' biggest crime was his lack of efficiency. Which might be true, at least in the eyes of someone as ruthlessly capable as Martin. "And where I fit in. He keeps saying I'm necessary because of my 'affiliation with the eye', but at this point I don't know if there's any of that left. Any of me left."

Rather than there being something in his tone, it's the utter lack of emotion in that last statement that has Gerry knocking on the door. "Martin?" he calls out, and the silence that follows is unnerving. "Martin, I'm coming i-"

"Don't." Martin says, his voice far too close, far too quiet, and far too muted for Gerry's taste. "Go away."

Oh.

Well, that's the shortest Martin's ever been with him, even counting back when they weren't working together. Gerry feels the nerves and the fear congealing into something cold and viscous at the bottom of his stomach.

"Martin, I think we need to have a chat." He tries again. "I could tell you about what happened up North and-"

"I don't want to know." Martin cuts him again. "Just leave me alone, will you?"

"I won't, actually," Gerry says as firmly as he can. His hand curls into a fist by his side, his entire body tensing. This is- Martin probably won't be too happy with him for forcing it but the thought of the sad, tired grey eyes behind the glasses has Gerry's stomach churning with the need to protect. "If you want me gone so much, at least have the decency to say it to my face."

And really, Gerry should really know better than to underestimate an angry Martin by now; he flinches back when the door flies open without any warning.

"It's not that hard, just leave. Me. Alone." Martin snaps, and the sight of him makes Gerry's stomach drop. There's streaks of gray in his hair, and neither emotion nor color left in the eyes pinning Gerry down. "You have to stop meddling in my business."

Gerry takes a deep breath, before squaring his shoulders. "You know I'm just trying to hel-"

"Well, I don't want your help. We're not- we're nothing, Gerard. I don't care about whatever promise you made to Jon-"

"This is not about Jon-"

"Yes it is!" Martin's eyes harden. "And guess what? You won, you have him. Now leave me alone."

For a split second, Gerry thinks Martin actually tried to shove him, until he looks down and sees the tape that's been slammed against his chest, just as Martin lets go of it. "Martin-"

"Leave."

"I-"

"I believe my assistant has asked you to go." The new voice that comes from somewhere behind Martin has Gerry gritting his teeth together, and it's all he can do to slip the tape into his pocket before Peter Lukas' face pokes out over Martin's shoulder. "But if you insist on staying, I could always... move him to a place where you won't disturb him."

Gerry narrows his eyes, his fingers itching to wrap themselves around Lukas' throat. He doesn't miss the hopeful flash in Martin's eyes when the Lonely is mentioned, and it makes his chest ache. He can't be this far gone already, he can't be craving for the Lonely, he- he was fine just before they left. Gerry should've insisted in leaving Tim behind, they would've found another way to destroy the Dark Sun, and Martin would be-

"What will it be, then?" Lukas gives him a jovial smile that makes Gerry want to knock out all his teeth. "Either you go, or we do. Your choice."

"...I'll go," Gerry says after a moment. "Lukas?"

"Yes?" The man's eyes crinkle at the corner; Gerry wants to gouge them out.

"Gertrude only cared for stopping your pathetic attempt at a ritual. After that, you weren't even important enough for her to kill you." Gerry cracks his neck to the side. "But I'm not Gertrude."

"Is that a threat?" Lukas doesn't sound nowhere near amused anymore, Gerry notices. "If so, you have inflated opinions of your role in this game, Keay. You're nothing but a chewtoy the Eye regurgitated for the Archivist, and you'd do well to remember that."

"Yes, I am." Gerry arches an eyebrow. "That's exactly why you won't touch me, isn't it? What makes you think you can touch him?"

Lukas laughs. "If you mean to imply I'm scared of that bad caricature of an avatar-"

"I'm not implying anything. It's a warning." Gerry takes a step back. "And if he doesn't come for you, I will."

He leaves immediately after, because when he levels a last look at Martin, he catches a single fleck of green in his sad, sweet eyes.

It's somehow as hopeful as it is devastating, having to leave him behind when deep down, Martin still wants to be saved.

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

'Jonathan Sims. Head Archivist.'

Georgie gives the plaque a disgusted look. A tasteless joke. A heartless sentence. She shakes her head to clear the thought away, before knocking on the door.

There's a moment of silence, before Jon's voice -soft and confused, Georgie thinks with a pang of guilt- calls out. "G- come in?"

She pushes the door open, and walks into a sparsely decorated office. Bookshelves stocked with boxes of old paper and tape recorders cover the walls, and Jon sits behind a too imposing desk, looking smaller than he has any right to be on account of the hopeful, nervous expression on his face.

"Uhm. Hi, Jon." Georgie leans against the door to close it, before it occurs to her that maybe Jon doesn't want her to stay for long. She wouldn't, if she was him.

"I- what are you doing here?" Jon asks, climbing to his feet. He gestures to one of the chairs across from him with a shaky hand. "Is everything alright? I- take a seat?"

Georgie shakes her head, but she does walk towards the desk. Around it, when she gets close enough. "I came to pick up Melanie for- I'm taking her somewhere. But I wanted to talk to you. She said you were on a trip?"

"Yes, I- we were supposed to stop another ritual. It- it turned out to be a fluke, but we did destroy the Dark Sun, or rather Tim did and-" Jon stops stalking abruptly, and he averts his eyes with a pained sigh. "I'm sorry. You don't want to hear any of that."

"I really don't." Georgie gives a sigh of her own. "But it's been brought to my attention that these things don't really give you a choice, do they?"

Jon shakes his head. "You don't have to get involved, Georgie. It's- in fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't. I already put you at risk when I hid in your house, I wasn't even thinking-"

"You were scared. That's- it was sweet that you knew I'd take you in. Even after, you know, everything."

"It was selfish. But you don't have to mix with this anymore. You can stay away, and be safe." Jon's shoulders are tense and sagging, and Georgie itches to pull him into a hug. She muses, again, that Jon is extremely easy to love. It's what makes him so dangerous.

"I really can't." Georgie shrugs. "Not while Melanie's trapped here. And you."

"Me." Jon repeats; tired, disbelieving.

"You." Georgie nods. "Weren't you trying to save the world?" she gives him a soft, sad smile. What was the cost of that?

"I-" Jon chuckles once. "I was. Am. But I don't- I think more focused on... on saving us, now. The people I care about." He sighs again, runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. "I'll find something for Melanie. To- to set her free. If you two could go somewhere safe-"

"Is there anywhere safe, Jon?" she asks, and Jon's shoulders fall even more.

"I don't think there is, Georgie." He says her name like she's the answer, like she can somehow make things alright. It reminds her of when they were younger, and she fell in love with that devotion. "I'm sorry."

Georgie purses her lips. "I don't think it was your fault." Jon's face shoots up at that, and Georgie feels guilt biting at her stomach again. She- she knows Jon. Self-destructive tendencies or not, how could she ever think he chose this? Her Jon, who only ever wanted to be enough. Who she could never convince that he already was. "If you- you say you're looking for something to get Melanie out."

"I am. I don't- maybe it's not possible, or my... predecessor, would have found it. But I'm looking, Georgie, I prom-" he stops talking abruptly, when Georgie pulls him into a tight hug, tucking his head under her chin. He melts against her, both so used to the other's touch that fitting together is almost as natural as breathing, even after all these years.

"Don't stop with her." Georgie mutters into his hair. "I want you out too, Jon. You deserve to be out, please believe that."

Jon says nothing after that, and neither does her. She holds his shaming form in silence, glad to be a momentary respite of this world that won't allow him any rest.

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To Jon's credit, he notices Gerry's mood almost as soon as they walk out of the Institute.

It still takes him all the way to the flat before he says anything, but the intention was there, Gerry thinks, the spark of fondness for the man almost enough to drown out the despair in his chest.

"Did- what happened?" Jon asks finally, after he locks the door behind the two of them.

Gerry sighs, hanging his jacket on the hook before turning to see if Jon needs help with his coat. It seems like a good day for his hand, because he's already done with most of the buttons. "I- Martin gave me a new tape. But it's- I'm having a hard time getting him back."

"Ah..." Jon's face falls as he shrugs the coat off to hang it next to Gerry's jacket. "I- do you think I should try talking to him?"

Gerry flinches. He's fairly sure Martin planned what to say in order to get him to leave as soon as possible, but it still hurt. He doesn't want to even think of what sort of things Martin would say to drive Jon away, or how much of that Jon would take to heart.

"I don't- I'll keep trying. Between me and Tim, he has to come back at some point."

He has to. Otherwise he's just another person Gerry couldn't save, a gamble he took -and lost- on someone's life.

"You... you said it yourself." Jon mutters. His voice sounds as defeated as Gerry feels, thinking of Martin's faded gray eyes. "You can't stop him from aligning with the Lonely. We have to trust him."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it." Gerry sighs again, running a hand down his face. "I just… he deserves more."

"He does," Jon agrees, nodding softly. "I- would you like me to draw you a bath?"

It takes a couple minutes for the offer to actually register in Gerry's mind, and he blinks.

"I- what?"

"It makes me feel better." Jon says, his scowl nowhere near fierce enough for Gerry to ignore his flushed face.

"I'm- that sounds nice." Gerry chuckles a little, still taken aback by the suggestion.

Jon rolls his eyes, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "You don't have to laugh about it."

"I'm not, it's just- no one's ever offered to do that before." Who would have, really? His mother? The one-night stands Gerry took whenever he wasn't hunting books or trying to ignore his mother's ghost? Gertrude? The last thought has another burst of hysterical laughter bubbling past his lips. If anything, it's almost enough to distract him from the disastrous encounter at Martin's office. "Will you get in with me?"

Jon's face closes off a little, even as his cheeks darken a bit more. "I'm- if you want me to."

"I think I'd like that. Just... just for a bath," he clarifies, because he's not stupid; he's noticed Jon keeps his touch chaste, even when they get worked up when kissing. "If it doesn't make you uncomfortable."

"Just for a bath." Jon nods carefully after a moment. "I'll just- go and start with the coffee for after. I'll call you."

Gerry makes himself scarce at the clear dismissal, busying himself with the cheap coffeemaker and the mugs.

'You won, you have him.' Martin's voice echoes around in his head, much more spiteful and accusing than the real delivery was.

This is... it's not fair, that he and Jon get to have these moments, while Martin loses himself to the Lonely. It's not fair to repay the man's bravery by forsaking him. He should've challenged Lukas, he knows. He should've stayed there, clung to Martin and dragged him out if need be instead of turning his back on him like a coward, instead of letting Martin watch him walk away, and leave him at Lukas' mercy.

"Hey." Smooth burnt skin slips over his as Jon's hand wraps stiffly around his wrist, and Gerry looks down into Jon's sweet concerned eyes. The coffeemaker beeps softly, has probably been doing so for a while, but Gerry can't find it in himself to do anything about it, and Jon doesn't seem to care.

There's not much else to say that they didn't go over at the door before, so Gerry says nothing, and instead lets himself be guided away by the gentle, firm grip of Jon's hand on his.

The bathroom is warm and full of steam with the bathtub only filled up halfway, which he supposes will be enough to keep it from overflowing once two grown men sit inside.

Gerry can, as always, feel Jon's eyes on him, but he finds that the feeling is entirely different when he's undressing. Burns and scars included, he's very aware he's an attractive man; he also knows with delighted certainty that Jon finds him distracting. Still, the slight hitch in Jon's breath when his shirt comes off completely, revealing the line of open eyes descending down his spine, makes Gerry's stomach curl with satisfaction.

By the time he starts removing his trousers and pants, there's a featherlight graze of fingers against the eye beneath his shoulder blades, and Gerry stills. Other people have taken notice of his tattoos, of course, previous lovers, even, but there's something different about Jon being the one running a fingertip lightly along the edges of the eyes. Maybe it's because Jon knows what they mean, or the knowledge that this body was remade, that it exists because of Jon and Jon alone.

Just a chewtoy for the Archivist, Lukas said earlier, like Gerry would find it hurtful or humiliating. Instead, when he turns around and Jon's adoring gaze moves from the eye over his heart to his own, real eyes, all Gerry can feel is relief, and the sticky, dangerously deceiving sensation of safety that comes with loving in a world preyed on by fear.

Jon looks away first, but he makes no attempt at covering himself as he turns to carefully climb into the bathtub, so Gerry looks his fill. Jon's body is slender, like his hands, like his face. Like a creature made for slipping between tightly cramped bookshelves and catching his victims unaware.

The body of a man life has mistreated.

Gerry eyes the thirteen marks resentfully; not all of them visible, but all glaringly obvious when he Looks. The Web at his fingertips, like dust left over after flipping a page. Spiral at his stomach, Slaughter on his shoulder, Flesh by his chest. Corruption takes what it can get, the small round marks scattered all over Jon's skin, interjecting here and there with the lines of intent where the Stranger planned to skin him.

The Vast, the Hunt and the Buried are all at his throat, the jagged lines of a scream let out while free falling, a cut meant to bleed him dry, a vicelike grip to drag him down. Desolation snakes up from his right hand, and End is a void over his heart.

The Watcher and the Dark are both at his face, like one is mocking the other. 'I tried to destroy you', say the star-like scars around his eyes. 'You weren't strong enough', says the gleam of infinite knowledge behind them.

"Are you getting in?" Jon asks quietly, and Gerry notices those eyes are pinned to his, doubt and worry mixed in their dark, well-loved depths. Jon has curled by the head of the tub, his arms wrapped around two wet knees that break the surface of the water like twin islands at sea.

"...That's what one does, right?" Gerry's voice comes out hoarse, and he huffs a little laugh as warmth spreads over his skin under Jon's scrutiny.

Instead of sitting across Jon, Gerry faces away from him, Jon's knees parting almost on reflex to let him lay his back against him. Gerry rests a hand over the eye at his chest, and if he focuses enough, he can almost pretend Jon's heartbeat is his own.

Maybe it is, he thinks as Jon's arms come to wrap over his shoulders.

It's a tight fit, but Jon's not a large man, and he slots behind Gerry like a backpack, which is admittedly not a very romantic way to describe sitting in a bathtub with your lover, Gerry thinks with a chuckle. Still, it's comfortable in a way Gerry has seldom experienced in his life.

The water's hot and soothing on his tense muscles, and when Jon reaches over to pop open a bottle, the bathroom fills with the scent of lavender.

"Did you change shampoo brands?" Gerry asks, resting his head against Jon's chest and trying to ignore the soft yield of flesh where this perfect, beautiful idiot is short two ribs. Above him, Jon continues softly scrubbing at his scalp, stubbornly quiet in that way Gerry has learned to read as him being embarrassed. "Jon?"

"I just-" Jon huffs, shifting behind him and making the water splash around the edges of the tub. "It was- you don't sleep on the sofa anymore."

Gerry scowls a little, trying to comprehend the mental gymnastics Jon is doing, until it clicks in his mind. "Oh." He can feel his face flushing in a way that has nothing to do with the heat of the water, as a pleased smile spreads over his lips. "That's- alright. I guess I can smell like a grandma. For you."

"You're insufferable." Jon flicks some water towards his face, and Gerry laughs, running his hand down Jon's calf where it cages his torso, and giving his ankle a squeeze. "I... thank you."

"For making fun of your perfume preferences?" Gerry closes his eyes as Jon starts rinsing the suds off his hair. He's going to fall asleep at this rate. Hopefully Jon won't let him drown.

"For not giving up on Martin." Jon whispers in his ear, his arms tangling together over Gerry's chest. "For caring."

Oh.

Gerry keeps his eyes closed. It's better this way. Jon's heartbeat is a steady lullaby under his head, and Gerry's suddenly assaulted by just how much he loves this man who cares that he's trying, despite the fact that he's clearly not doing enough.

"I'll bring him back," Gerry whispers, the overwhelming rush of affection at war with the guilt that his happiness comes at the cost of Martin's suffering, somehow.

"We will." Jon nods, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of Gerry's mouth.

And well... perhaps it's a good thing, that Gerry's stupid, hopeless optimism seems to be rubbing off on Jon. Maybe they will get Martin back.

Maybe this story doesn't have to end in tragedy.

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

It's not too late, when Jon sneaks out into the alley behind the Archives. Gerry won't be here for another hour and a half, but he's already done with today's work, and he doubts the Eye will volunteer anything else. It's been fairly quiet since they came back, almost as if it's annoyed Jon is choosing to regain his strength slowly through Gerry's volunteered statements instead of going out hunting.

"Spot's taken." A sullen voice breaks him out of his reverie, and Jon looks up to find Tim leaning against the opposite wall and glaring fiercely at the Institute's building.

"Oh. Sorry, I'm- I won't be long." Some of the rubbish around Tim's feet is smoking; Jon clears his throat and points at the smoldering pieces.

"Hm. My bad." Tim shrugs and stomps on a crumpled paper bag until it goes out. "Thought you'd quit," he says, and Jon notices with a start that his eyes have landed on the pack of cigarettes in his hand.

"It isn't like they can kill me now, is it?" Jon says, almost testily. He remembers how much Tim insisted back when they were frien- back in research, until Jon dropped the vice.

Tim brings a hand up to Jon's face, and snaps his fingers once. A single bright red flame spurts from his thumb, emitting a heat disproportionate to its size. "I'm rooting for them," he says, and the smile on his face is dry, but his humor is the same. Jon smiles sadly as he pulls out a cigarette to light it with the offered fire.

They stand there in silence for a moment, the tip of Jon's cigarette flaring and smoking every time Tim shifts, and Jon getting random tidbits about the passersby that walk past the alley. It would be a fun setup for a joke, Jon thinks, two monsters out for a smoke break.

"...I wish it had been Sasha that got brought back," Tim mutters after about ten minutes -nine and twenty eight seconds, the Beholding supplies helpfully-. His voice is almost careful, Jon notices; not guarded like it's been for years now, but somehow... fragile.

Jon closes his eyes, and behind his eyelids he sees flashes of moments he's not meant to be privy to. Tim and Sasha joking easily back and forth as they move boxes of statements around the Archives. Looks and touches lingering for longer than they ought to. Heading back to Sasha's flat from the pub one night.

It never ceases to amaze him, how many things he just didn't see before. Yet another thing he was chosen for without being even the slightest bit adept at.

"I don't. Sasha- she died human. She died herself," Jon says quietly. It hurts, but it's the truth. If there's anything that could qualify as fair in this whole situation is that Sasha didn't live to see herself become... like them.

"Still. She deserved a second chance," Tim exhales slowly, letting out a wisp of steam that curls and dissipates above his head. "Even you had one."

The venom in the statement doesn't strike Jon as hard anymore. He's grown immune to it, coming from Tim. "Yes, because I chose wrong. Everyone who chooses this life is wrong."

Tim lifts an eyebrow. "What about your tall glass of water?"

Jon's face heats up against the cool night air. He briefly considers Knowing which one Tim is referring to just to spare himself the embarrassment of asking, but that's a frivolous use of power if there's ever been one.

"None of them chose this," he grumbles instead, face still burning under Tim's gaze. "Martin and Gerry didn't choose this any more than you did, Tim."

"I guess." Tim blows a ring of steam into the night, and they both watch it drift and distend until it's faded completely. "Martin won't talk to me anymore."

Jon sighs, and goes to pull out a second cigarette; he's going to need it. "I was- I haven't sought him out in a while. But I can- something happened, while we were gone.

"Don't you think it has anything to do with your new boyfriend?" Tim asks, pressing his thumb against the tip of Jon's cigarette, "It's gotta be fuel for the Lonely, to see this hot goth come from nowhere and speedrun through all the stages of falling for an asshole when he's still stuck at 'unrequited crush'."

"It's not." Jon sticks the cigarette between his lips and crosses his arms over his chest, looking resolutely away.

"It's not what?"

"...Unrequited," Jon mumbles so low he doubts for a moment Tim heard him. Silence blankets over them again, as Jon's cigarette steadily burns down.

Tim shifts on his spot, and Jon Sees again, suddenly. Tim is thinking -curious, pained, angry- back at the time when he would've wanted to comment on that.

"Would you look at that," Tim says finally. Jon can feel the bite coming, but it sounds... tired. Like that day at the coffeeshop before Tim walked away. "Martin's self destructive tendencies did win in the end. Kudos to him."

"There's no accounting for taste, apparently." Jon shrugs. "But no. I don't think it has anything to do with Gerry. He's been trying to tether Martin back since before you showed up again. They... they get along. Or they did, before we left for Ny-Alessünd. Gerry hasn't had any luck talking to him since we came back, either.

Tim is still looking at him, and Jon fidgets a little on his spot, uncomfortable.

"Can't- couldn't you Know?" Tim asks, after a moment.

Jon arches an eyebrow. "I did not expect you of all people to ask me to do that."

"What, you suddenly grew a conscience about your spooky stalking problem?"

"I don't- it's not like I want this, Tim." Jon sighs.

"But you'll do it?"

Jon looks at him, and finds Tim is expecting his answer with an almost hopeful look in his face. "Yes. For- if I can use these powers to help the people I love- I'll do it."

Tim's mouth twitches around half formed words for a moment, before he nods. "Well- get to it, then."

"Actually, I could use a little help, before you go and Behold that-" a third voice makes both of them jump around to find Helen's door on the side of the building. "If you could come down to the Archives?"

Jon scowls. Helen looks... her whole shape is almost blurry. The Distortion's grip on her own form is never too stable, but there's something different about this, less like she's changing and more like she's ceasing to be. Her curled hair looks deflated and lackluster, her face looks like it's trying to slip off of her, or melt back into her skull, and her knuckles are almost white where they're clenched around the door's edge.

"What happened to you?" he asks. The compulsion slips into his voice accidentally, but Helen doesn't even seem to notice.

"If you must know, I ate something that didn't agree with me." Helen's grip on the door tightens.

Jon lifts an eyebrow. "You kept Jared Hopworth in there for months. How is this one giving you trouble?"

"I'm not exactly made of flesh. There's not too much that one could do to hurt me." Helen grimaces. "But I'm hardly a person, which is... the main problem here."

"... It's feeding on you." Jon whispers, when Helen winces again.

Tim whistles under his breath. "What the hell did you lure in?"

Helen purses her lips, or what's left of them, and Jon considers the situation for a moment.

For all that Helen has said she's on their side, she's... well, dangerous. She's not even culling her hunger like Jon himself is, and they really don't have any proof of her alignment. Helen comes and goes, and Jon sometimes wonders if she herself knows what her plan is, or if there's even one. If whatever unlucky avatar she ate is really devouring her from the inside... that's two less terrors left in the world. Who knows how many lives could be saved?

"Ah... I see how it is." Helen mutters, after a few more moments. "I should've known-"

Jon sighs. "Get your door to my office," he orders, before going back into the building.

"Hm. Monster solidarity, then? How sweet." Tim says as he descends the stairs behind him. Jon rolls his eyes.

"I don't know that I'm the one who should decide who lives or dies, Tim. Helen has... she's helped us."

"Go team Archives," Tim says sarcastically.

"I don't know what you're coming down for." Rephrasing questions around Tim is almost second nature now, a habit Jon has fallen back into, with Tim's return.

"I'm just curious." Tim shrugs, and Jon can tell he's lying even without Seeing. The mix of feelings swirling inside Tim's mind is too complex to try to decipher anyways, much less right now that they're coming into the Archives.

"What's going on?" Daisy's standing at one of the desks, one arm stretched to keep Basira slightly back and to the side. The door to Jon's office -Helen's door now- is banging and shaking, alarmingly loud.

"Something is eating her from the inside." Tim shrugs, before looking at Basira. "You should probably get out."

"Shut it."

"Of course." Tim nods.

"Helen?" Jon calls out. "You can-"

The door flies open.

Out into the room tumbles... something, long-limbed and with too many joints, looking somewhere between a mix of Helen and- ah.

It makes sense, that out of all the entities, the Stranger would be the most dangerous to Helen. Helen, who's neither monster nor person now, whose face is not actually hers because she's not really her anymore. Would it even be able to steal an identity that doesn't exist, or would that make it easier?

"Ah... Hello, Jon." Not Sasha pushes her hair back with a hand, climbing to her feet. Her eyes run over the rest of the people in the room, the same eyes that gleamed in amusement and badly concealed mischief whenever they promised that 'no, Jon, of course I wasn't looking at your emails, I would never!'. Except they aren't, because the memory of those is lost, and even Jon with all his powers will never remember them. "Tim! Sweetheart, it's so good to see you again."

"You." Tim's clipped voice is followed by the temperature in the room rising, the heat almost searing at Jon's back.

Not Sasha smiles like a knife, all cruel angles that Jon knows -even if he can't remember- have nothing to do with the real Sasha's smile. "You've got some fun new tricks! We could really get it going now. What do you say? Pick up where we left off?"

Tim steps forward, but Jon stretches an arm almost on reflex, the burn in his hand throbbing like it recognizes the heat of the Desolation.

"Step aside Jon." Tim says, his voice brimming with barely restrained anger, and Jon remembers the memories he saw just now at the alley. He can't tell how many of those were actually the real Sasha, and his heart aches a little at the realization that Tim has probably asked himself the same countless times. "I won't ask you ag-"

"You'll kill us all." Basira speaks from her spot behind Daisy. "It's what she wants. If you burn the Archives we're all dead, Tim."

It clicks, then.

The Not Them aren't stupid, or impulsive. Not Sasha knows she's outnumbered, that there's no way she's getting out of the Archives alive. With Daisy moving to stand with Basira before Helen's door, and Jon and Tim before the only other exit, she's planning on taking them down with her.

Jon takes a deep breath, before he starts, carefully. "Tim-"

"Don't," Tim snaps. "Don't even try it. You don't know- I'm going to kill her. Shut up!" he snarls at Not Sasha, when she gives a low giggle. "If I have to-"

"Kill Martin?" Jon asks, and Tim flinches back. "Basira, Daisy, Melanie?"

"Did you notice, love?" Not Sasha speaks in a sickly soft voice. "He's not in the list. He knows he deserves it if you kill him. If he'd been any stronger, he'd have known it was me from the moment I took dear, sweet Sasha. Maybe he would've even known to warn her not to come near my table!"

"Tim-" Jon tries again, but Tim lifts a hand to stop him. His eyes are glowing a fiery orange even behind his closed eyelids, his brow is covered in sweat, and the hardwood floor has begun to smoke around his feet.

"Shut up. Shut-" Tim is shaking with effort, the temperature in the room going up and down like someone's playing with a thermostat.

"Did you know she was alive? The first few months, at least. Kept trying to get you to look at my reflection so you'd see it didn't match." Not Sasha grins, when Tim crouches on his spot, burying his face in his hands. "I think she was still watching, the first time we kiss-"

"That's enough." Jon snaps, and the monster's mouth clicks shut. He takes a step before Tim's shaking form, hoping against hope that he can keep control for a bit longer. "Nobody fears you. We know who you aren't, and you have no power here."

Not Sasha's face sours, and Jon feels a rush of dark satisfaction, in seeing her try -and fail- to talk back. This is his Archive, and he's got much better weapons than a pipe this time.

"Jon?" Daisy asks carefully, but Jon shakes his head. "Jon, the qu-"

"Just kill it already!" Basira squeezes at Daisy's arm, gesturing pointedly at Tim. "We can worry about that later, just do it, before he blows."

Not Sasha makes a break for the exit, but doesn't make it too far before Daisy tackles her from the back, the blood boiling beneath her skin and the thought of Jon in her mind. Maybe this is what Gerry meant when he said they had to be a team; protect each other, by whatever means possible.

"Do you remember them? Do you remember all you took from them?" Jon asks, calling on the voice of the Archivist as he takes a step towards the struggling monster. He can see the lights flickering, hear the static rising behind his voice until it reaches deafening levels. "Remember her, because we can't. Because you took her from herself."

"Stop-" Not Sasha grunts in pain. Her features shift even as Jon watches, stretching, contracting, like she's trying to find a form that will keep her safe from him.

"Remember all the things that she was. Everything that you are not." Jon feels the words flowing through him without even a thought spared for them, like he Knows exactly what threads to pull on, to undo the weaving keeping Not Sasha together.

"Fuck you- I made her suffer, when I peeled her name off. I should've made it last longe-"

"Silence," Jon orders again, and he feels heat pooling behind his eyes, at the base of his throat, filtering through to his next words. "You will remember Sasha James-"

"NO!"

"-and you will Know that you are nothing."

The creature's scream is ragged and crackling, dissolving in the static of the eye as she changes and squirms and melts, evaporating until Daisy's weight hits the ground, nothing beneath her anymore.

"...That's new." Basira moves forward to help Daisy to her feet. "Is everyone alright?"

"I'm just... I'll sit," Jon mumbles as a wave of exhaustion washes over him.

"Could someone come into my corridors and be confused for a bit?" Helen asks through her ajar door. "I promise I'll let you out."

There's a rush of movement, and Helen's door slams shut. Jon slides down to sit at Sasha's old desk, without the energy or the words that it would take to reach Tim right now.

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