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coalitiongirl · 3 years

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Fic Recs (under 300 edition)

So I wanted to get back to reading Swan Queen fic regularly, and I asked people to rec longfic that they'd read (not written) and loved that had fewer than 300 kudos! I haven’t read most of these, but I’ve collected them here so y’all can go through the list and discover some new fics with me! Please try to kudos and review every fic that you read! It means the world to the writers and will keep em writing, and then we all win. 😁

Atonement by SgtMac (M): With Regina's magical heart failing thanks to years of previous evil, Emma and Regina and Henry (and Granny!) set out to save her life by traveling to the Enchanted Forest and requesting help from ancient magical beings known as the Guardians. Given a mission as simple as it is impossible - to achieve atonement by creating peace - the ladies find themselves joining a rebellion and fighting for the very soul of the Enchanted Forest all while trying to help Regina to understand that the self-loathing and guilt which have driven most of her actions don't have to doom her chance for a new beginning or even, a chance to live and love again. A S4(ish) SQ love story set against the turmoil of war and the chaotic savagery of the old world.

Blood and Sand by cheshire6845 (E): A/U The Savior is a slave forced into the role of fighting as a gladiator for the House of Hearts. The odds are against her survival as she will have to win in the arena, navigate Cora's schemes, outlast a general's vengeance, and not be killed out of spite by the current House of Hearts Champion - Regina the Undefeated. This story follows the major plot points of Starz Spartacus with some twists along the way.

But what if there was no time by KizuRai (M): When she wakes up, it's dark. She can't move, she can't see, she can't feel and she can't hear. Where am I? She feels a forceful oppression, pressing her down, draining her of her energy and she's powerless to stop it. How did I get here? The question of here is relative, she's not even sure where here is. What happened? There must be some reason for being stuck here but her memory is fuzzy, like all her thoughts are being sifted through a filter. Who am I? She's not sure if she actually exists or she suddenly became sentient in the darkness.She hears a voice reverberating in the distance, it's distorted and quiet but she hears it all the same. It breaks the monotony of the silence. Someone's coming for her, they will get her out. She's just not sure she wants them to as the price might be too great.

Finding Home by evl_rgl (T): “I wanted to remember you so badly that I pulled back your cursed town just so that the memories would make sense. I needed you so badly that even when I had no memory of you, I still tried to find you.” Regina gave Emma and Henry memories of a happy life together before they fled Pan’s curse, leaving them with no memories of their lives in Storybrooke. However, when the memory spell shows signs of failing, threatening to rip apart the minds of both Emma and Henry, Regina makes a drastic choice to go back and fix it, understanding that it will mean living alone in a world where her son doesn’t know her. Was the spell really faulty, though? (swanqueen)

Five Flames by MariaComet (U): In the past, Emma Nolan disconnected from her peers in high school, preferring to keep to herself. In her sophomore year of high school, she decided to try and join the boy’s wrestling team because she was bored. She didn’t expect herself to become the champion of the most bullied kid in school or the secret best friend of the school queen. She also didn’t expect to join a club that would change her life. In the present, Emma is trying to cope with a humiliating loss in her martial arts career. She claims to be “training” but is stuck in limbo between wanting to retire and try again. She is isolated from her former best friend, Regina Mills, a local celebrity chef and the rest of her old friends. When one of them calls her with an idea to honor their deceased teacher, she is confronted with unresolved feelings and questions about how powerful love truly is.

A Glamour of Truth by PrincessCharming (T): After 2x10, Regina uses magic to show Emma the obvious truth. A tentative trust forms between them amid hilarious bickering. With Emma's help, Regina struggles to regain a place in her son's life... until Cora arrives, wanting her daughter back. Pieces of Regina's past emerge showing that the board was set long before the game started. The final battle begins soon.

His Dark Materials 'verse by MoonlitMidnight (M): A modern Alternate Universe in which Dæmons (the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner self' that takes the form of an animal) are present. In which Emma and Regina have led slightly different lives and they make slightly different choices.

How Many Miles to Avalon? (WIP) by RavenOutlander (E): Regina would do anything to save Emma from the darkness and bring her back home safe and sound. Even put up with the two idiots, Captain Guyliner and a bunch of dwarves she decidedly wanted to drop off at the nearest exit. But in their search for Emma, they find that she might not need that much saving after all. Caught up in a search for the infamous Philosopher Stone, an all out war between DunBroch and Camelot, and ghosts from the past to haunt her every waking moment, Regina finds herself scrambling to keep her and her family's happy endings from falling apart.

The Hyperion by FrankenSpine (M): After wishing upon what she believes is a shooting star, Emma Swan finds herself aboard the Hyperion, the royal starship of an alien Queen from a faraway galaxy. She quickly learns of the tensions between the Queen's people and her own, but the Queen takes an interest in her and agrees to take her away from Earth forever. Adventure awaits. *(Loosely based on Guardians of the Galaxy with just a hint of Farscape)*

If Wishes Came True (It Would've Been You) by Angeii_K (M): After Regina films a guest appearance on her friend Neal’s popular show, he invites her to spend the weekend with him and his girlfriend. What she never expected was to actually like the woman. Sparks fly between the two, which results in them questioning everything and making choices they will later regret. 4 years later, they meet again in the most unexpected of ways. Now co-stars on the same show, they are forced to work through the emotions from their last encounter. What will happen next? Only time will tell.

The King Doesn’t Have To Know (WIP) by highheelsandchocolate (M): The White Knight had never seen anyone like her before: the Queen was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her possessive yet neglectful husband, however, was another thing entirely.

The Lich by Dangereaux (M): Gay disaster Emma, exasperated Regina, and a monster. A Halloween special.

Maybe if We Close Our Eyes we Can Reach the Stars by wellthizizdeprezzing (T): Emma is a lonely astronaut. Regina is an adventuring alien. Their paths cross leading them onto a journey of new discovery. Between galaxies and many miles of cold black space, despite not speaking the same language, they manage to fall for each other. An out of this world love story.

A prisoner long forgotten by sugarsweet_19 (M): ‘I wish I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood and as black as the wood of the window-frame. Soon after she had a little girl, who was as white as snow, with lips as red as blood and with her hair as black as the ebony of the window-frame. She was therefore called Snow-white.” This is how our story starts but how will it end?The evil queen as been locked up in a tower and forgotten that is until princess Emma looks for a place to hid from her parents after they tell her she has to marry Neal the son of the dark one.

Revenge of the Three Little Pigs by mskyo (M): Regina and Emma find themselves alone and looking for the rest of their party. The Evil Queen must face the consequences of her past actions. Will Emma come to her aid, or understand that justice must be served... *Some chapters have fairly graphic sex, and violence*

Things I Almost Remember by cheshire6845 (T): A/U Despite an oncoming war between the Dark and the Light, Emma and Regina are best friends growing up in the Enchanted Forest. When war does come, they find themselves on opposite sides. Regina will have to defy her mother to save Emma. Will Emma be able to save Regina when Cora curses her daughter to live in the Land without Magic?

What We Make (WIP) by DiazTuna (M): “My mother.” He says calmly. He’d known all along, she’s aware. But he’d known that today would be the day that would get this going. She wants to ask what it was like, to have woken up this morning, laced up his boots and walked into hell just knowing. “It’s programmed the cyborg to kill her. Before I have a chance to be born.” -In which the leader of the future sends his best soldier back to the past to save his mother from a killer cyborg. Terminator AU.

The Wrong Way by pcworth (M): Takes place right after Zelena steals Regina's heart. Zelena offers Regina a chance to go back in time with her and change both of their lives for the better. But what will be the price of that decision. Slow-burn to SwanQueen

zombie trash by 13pens (T): Zelena could have her brain and eat it, too. Fic operates on three premises 1. this takes place in any universe where zelena is a reformed asshole 2. zombies are a thing and exist iZombie style 3. i have NO chill

#swan queen #fic rec #ouat

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heymacy · 3 years

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@heymrspatel‘s tags on my recent gifset had me all moon-eyed and inspired, so i wrote a little something featuring a grumpy Mickey, a spooky movie night, and floofy hair. i don’t know how it happened either, but it did, so please enjoy about 1.2k words of Soft Husbands 🥺🥰🖤🎃

“i love you, jerkface” - dani dennison, hocus pocus

Mickey had been in a bad mood all day.

Ian suggested ice cream and a movie, and Mickey agreed, albeit reluctantly, grumbling something about bribery under his breath as he walked out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

He flopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote where it lay beside him, turning on the TV. It opened to the Amazon account they shared with the rest of the Gallaghers, their yearly subscription a gift from Tami last Christmas.

Someone, probably Debbie and Franny, had recently watched “Hocus Pocus” and Mickey snorted softly, remembering how much Mandy loved that movie when they were kids. She watched it almost every day for the whole month of October every year, sometimes randomly in July or December, and Mickey had the whole thing memorized by proxy.

“What d’you wanna watch?” he shouted towards the kitchen where Ian stood, spooning out two bowls of mint chocolate chip. He felt a little bit guilty using the fancy metal ice cream scooper, considering Mickey had snagged it from Debbie’s place a month ago in yet another round of their spiteful kitchen-utensil-abductions. All over a fucking potato masher. They really were a couple of children.

Ian shoved two spoons into each bowl and stuck the ice cream back in the fridge.

“I dunno,” he said as he walked into the living room, shrugging as he passed his husband, whose eyes remained fixed on the TV. “What do you wanna watch?” he asked, and Mickey groaned.

“Don’t do that shit.”

Ian handed him one of the bowls of ice cream.

“What ‘shit?’”

“You know what shit,” Mickey said, distorting his voice a bit in mockery. “Oh I dunno, whatever you wanna watch, baby.” He made a face, scrunching up his nose in feigned disgust.

Ian snorted.

“S’bullshit,” Mickey grumbled, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth as he settled in, pouty as hell. Ian knew that in about 20 minutes, he’d be back to normal. He just needed to get it out of his system.

“Alright, alright,” Ian said, fighting a grin. “How about Hocus Pocus? It’s already up there.” He gestured to the screen with his spoon and Mickey sniffed, shrugging.

“Fine,” he said, knowing that Ian was at least half aware of his history with the film, and avoided eye contact as he slid onto the floor, sitting with his back against the couch.

“Really?” Ian said, smirking, and Mickey just shrugged, swallowing his ice cream.

Ian’s smirk widened.

He slid across the couch to where Mickey sat and threw one of his legs on either side of his husband, capturing his shoulders between his thighs.

“The fuck’re you doin’?” Mickey protested through another mouthful, and Ian just settled in, pressing play on the remote. He listened as his husband mumbled some semblance of a protest before giving up, knowing Mickey didn’t totally hate it when they sat like this.

About thirty minutes into the movie, ice cream long gone, Ian started feeling fidgety.

Mickey chuckled quietly as Sarah reached up into the ceiling, pulling out her “lucky rat’s tail,” and Ian found his hands absentmindedly carding themselves into Mickey’s hair. There was a distinct but soft crunching sound as his fingers ran through Mickey’s hair, breaking through the gel-like product Mickey had used to style it that morning.

“Ow,” he protested, giving his head a little shake. Ian dropped his hands onto his legs.

“Sorry,” he said, refocusing on the movie. He felt Mickey’s hand on his own, moving it back to his head.

“I didn’t say stop,” he mumbled, and Ian was helpless not to grin, thankful that Mickey was turned away from him facing the TV.

He leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his thighs, the strands breaking apart quickly as his husband’s hair returned to its usual soft, fluffy form.

“Your hair is getting kinda long,” Ian mused, only half-thinking as they remained focused on the movie, Dani leaping out from behind the counter with a scream.

Mickey turned his head back around and glared at his husband.

“You gonna get on my ass about my hair, too?” Mickey snapped, irritated, referencing one of the could-go-wrong, did-go-wrongs from earlier in the day. What was supposed to be their attempt at helping Lip and Tami out with the new baby had turned into an impromptu roast session at Mickey’s expense, Lip making some smart-ass remark about Mickey going for the “boyband look” as Debbie egged him on, asking him when he was “going on tour”.

Mickey had just about heard enough and stormed out, already pissed off after dealing with a rude, cheap-ass supplier earlier that morning. Ian had followed, shooting annoyed looks at his siblings before he left, both of them riding home in the ambulance in silence.

Ian realized immediately how his comment probably came off, and he rushed to correct himself.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he said. “I like your hair longer sometimes,” he mumbled, leaning forward and planting a kiss on the top of his husband’s head. Mickey huffed and rolled his eyes, all in show, realizing too late that Ian couldn’t actually see his face.

“Well I’m cutting it off tomorrow, so.” Mickey shrugged. “Won’t have to use that shit anymore,” he said, referring to what he had once called hair gunk.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do,” Ian said, and it was quiet for a minute while Max stole Winifred Sanderson’s spell book.

“Yeah, well,” Mickey said, shrugging, apparently choosing to remain vague and unelaborated.

Ian sighed and continued combing his fingers through Mickey’s hair, picking up the smaller pieces and lifting them, watching as they fell against the rest of the dark mess he’d created.

“You know I like your hair all the time,” Ian said, and Mickey was quiet. “Right?” he asked again, and Mickey just sat there, the very last bit of his resolve slipping away.

Ian slid his fingers into Mickey’s hair and grasped at the strands, yanking his head back so they were looking directly at each other.

“Right?” Ian said, and Mickey finally grinned, just a small curve of his lips that gave way to a lip-bite and a soft chuckle.

“Right, asshole,” he said, grinning, and Ian leaned down, Spiderman kissing his husband softly before leaning back up and pressing one more kiss to the tip of his nose, finally releasing his grip on his hair. Mickey giggled as he settled back in for the rest of the movie.

When the firefighters left the Sanderson house, Mickey climbed up from where he sat on the floor, crawling into the spot beside Ian. His husband welcomed him in with his arms spread, both of them settling in comfortably to their regular position, Mickey leaning against Ian’s chest, head resting on his shoulder, fingers laced together where their hands rested on Ian’s thigh.

A few minutes later, Mickey turned his face up towards Ian, who looked down at him with happy, tired eyes.

“I love you,” he said, his face apologetic, regretting wasting thirty minutes on the floor instead of in his husband’s arms.

Ian smiled.

“I love you, too, you grumpy bitch,” he teased, and Mickey snorted, grinning, tilting his face up for another kiss that Ian met with a smile.

#me? writing post-finale canon-compliant content? writing something that isn't an AU? i can't believe it either #i have no idea what this is but inspiration struck #also yes i'm working on TLO too so i'm in the grumpy mickey zone i'm SORRY #ficlet #things i wrote #one shot #under 2k #soft husbands

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gayfrenchtoast · 3 years

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Okay fine we're doing this. I havent read the books and I'm probably not going to I've only seen the movies so I'm sorry if anything I say is contradictory or has already been stated.

So! Descendants 3 was kinda shit and I dont like it but especially because of the ending because everybody was like "oh yeah island is open and we're all happy with no worries or implications about free villains or people being spiteful about being imprisoned for years!" In fact if anything they joked about those things.

The island is basically its own culture, I can't say how long it's been around, long enough for some almost adult kids to be about and to develop a kind of community.

The Isle is a place of poverty, people are dirty and on the street, eveyone steals from each other and most people don't put much effort into appearance upkeep (personal or of the sourounding area) not because of laziness or being "evil" but because they clearly don't have time or luxury to do such things or possibly even the clean water. Does the Isle have clean water?? How to they get electricity??? Someone tell me!

Another thing that I've noticed is easy to see but is not much explicitly said is the unique style of those on the Isle. As previously stated they don't have much but those who have the most "power" and such on the Isle are the best example of this As they have the most colourful outfits. However these outfits are often made out of patches and ripped things put together, even salvaged things like nets and chains as we can see on thing like Uma and Harry's outfits in D3 they make the best of what they've got and they do fantastic because their outfits are intricate and detailed and just tell you everything you need to know about them. Which is why it's a damn s h a m e when the original VK's ajust their style to be more like Auradon's. That's not an improvement! Be proud of where you came from!! It's like they forgot what it was like being on the Isle in D3!

Moving on, here's something that was touched on in D2 but not enough. Equality. On the Isle there is basically equal opportunity as in saying everything is shit and nome cares what gender and presumably what sexuality you are as long as you can work. Sexism is shown to be almost casual in aurodon from the looks of it, Chad makes sexist comments and litterally none else says anything or seems to see anything wrong with it except Jay who caves to pressure from peers and expectations. He does redeem himself because he's from the isle and he knows you shouldn't give a shit about anyone's gender or anything. If they can do something and ask to be included you give them that opportunity. The sexism is also implied in the way that the rule book has men written specifically in the first place and that it has taken until then for anyone but boys to be allowed on any kind of sports team. We never see it! It seems to be the hetronormative veiw where the boys do sport and girls do cheerleeding and other genders? What other genders? Never heard of that? BAD AURADON!! I bet there's so many trans folk on the island just living their lives, thinking Aurodon is the better place and not knowing that it's a cis het filled nightmare.

Okay no I'm headcannoning now, if their are now a bunch of Isle kids at auradon prep they find it fucking aweful the way all these preppy royals are treating them and make the first LGBT club in Auradon. There is lots of pushback and they get bullied a fuck ton for making themselves the most prominent queer folk in the school until a fight breaks out and the club demand that they should be treated better, taking all the evidence to fairy godmother who is very hesitant because COME ON she's never been that great she is biased to Auradon kids and if putting away those in the Isle is brought up she is all on it, she is jelly spined about doing anything against the royal kids. So the kids are like "Fine, if you won't help us we'll take this to the King himself!" Well mainly the queer mom's of the group (you know the ones I'm talking about) who lead the others and protect the anxious queers as they storm to Ben at his fucking locker and demand an audience because they are being harassed and bullied and none is doing anything. Ben had no idea there was even a LGBT club (too busy ig) and is gassed there is one for a moment before he's like "wait people are harassing you?" So Bisexual King Ben gets his lovely Bi wife and they start coming to club meetings and investing in the pins and stuff the club makes. Most club members are pleased but the queer mom's are apprehensive that this will help until some assholes come to the club to do their usual bullying only to find King and Queen Beast themselves siting there with rainbow bracelets and bi pins and all trying to have a nice old time eating their fucking cupcakes what the fuck are yall doing? The bullying dies down quick once they realise it ain't gonna fly, the other OG VK's that hear about this become members and very protective over their queer children. Did I mention Dizzy and Ceila are a part of the club? They're girlfriend's. Celia is one of the queer moms. Harry becomes one of the biggest protectors over the group as the pan dad. He's been going around snogging everyone and anyone wholl snog him everyone already knew he was queer they just didn't have the balls to try and bully him over it as much as they bullied the lil club members. But now Harry can often be seen in jackets and shit with pan and general queer patches and pins and running around with his gay children yelling "MOVE WE'RE GAY!!" He totally calls them his queer crew. Anyway as a result lots of queer royals start coming out of the woodwork, obvs Lonnie is one of them, and the club eventually serves to bring members of Auradon and the Isle close together.

Where was I? Yada yada auradon expects girls to be pretty princesses and boys to be brave knights or dashing princes. It's shit and should stop being portrayed as good. Moving on!

Food! One of the things we'll established in all movies is that the food of the Isle is shit compared to food of Auradon. The Isle has no fresh fruit which likely means its almost impossible for things to grow there which is fair because again there doesn't seem to be much fresh water and there are always clouds overhead so no sun. Maybe there is some people trying really hard to grow stuff but the general attitude of the Isle seems to be "there is no time for that" and fruits are forgotten so much that the VK's litterally don't knownwhat they are when they come across them. That and anything containing sugar. Actually it's mention by Dizzy and Celia that they enjoy the fact that the cake dosent have dirt or flies so basically food there is terrible. We don't see much food on the Isle but what we do see seems to be beans, eggs, chips and shellfish. Basically protine and carbs that can be easily stored and produced. To be fair beans are kidna good for you but they're likely a sign that if they get any imports from the mainland it is canned stuff. Prison food. There's probably some chef villain that is trying their best to make good food out of the shit but honestly the Isle dwellers should be angry that they've been deprived of good food for so long not happy they're finally been given decency.

Moving on, music! Auradon dosent have nearly as many musical numbers it seems, the Isle songs have a distinct style, to them, the villains that basically "founded" the place were masters of the dramatic songs (with backup or solo) so banging music is basically ingrained in the music's culture, even for battle as we see with the fight between Mal and Uma in D3. Meanwhile Auradon seems to have mainly romance and "I want" songs. Even Audrey's villain song is basically an I want song.

Okay let's talk about the Villains. We've established that the VK's are not inherently bad. However not all of them can be totally good and there are legit OG Villains just kinda chillin on the Isle. They've obviously lost quite a bit of their power, motivation and sanity (isolation will do that to ya as they lost everything and the VKs know no different) but deadass? They were bad guys. You can try to rehabilitate them sure but you've basically just let them free roam, they could make a runner and you wouldn't get the chance. They were also shitty patents which is brushed over/joked about in the interaction between Carlos and...man I feel bad I forgot her name deadass their relationship seemed to come out of nowhere in the second film she didn't seem interested in them at all and friendzoned them multiple times I'm pretty sure Disney did that becaue queer kids were relating to Carlos and headcanoning them as queer (which they deffinatly are) but deadass their mom is an attempted animal murderer and has hurt her child as we can see from how they're afraid of her and her rhetoric and yet it's "haha I'm afraid to meet your ma!" "Me too cus im a dog! Lol!" Fuuuuck offfffff

I think I'm running out of thoughts so here's a last one for now; with the magical barrier down a bunch of magical Villains kids should be coming out for the woodwork. We know Mal has magic basically stored in her so it's is possible, she technically doesn't need the spellbook to do magic it is just inherent to her. So with the diverse range of people from the isle there are deffinatly magic folk in there. Actually if we're following Disney movie law I saw something mentioning Jay being half Genie and yeah! He should be half Genie! Jafar got turned into a Genie he's probably only human because of the barrier! Oh also Ben should be able to go beast on command as long as he had a better beast form than he did in the movies. And give him back the beard and fangs like fuck you he looked so much better

Okay I'm done for now

#decendants #decendants 3 #mal #carlos de vil #jay #harry hook #uma

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medusinestories · 3 years

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Today is Two For One because these two eps pretty much follow onto each other in terms of storylines and themes etc.

Black Sails V and VI (s1 eps 05-06)

- A big plot point in these two episodes is Billy mistrusting and investigating Flint. It starts with Flint approaching Billy and claiming he wants an “honest” conversation with him (note that he’s had time to think about what he’ll say to Billy, coming back to my previous comment about how Flint does better at persuasion when he has time to script things). Flint explains that you can’t ever be entirely truthful to a crew because if you explain any risk of failure they’ll be demoralised. He also talks very briefly about Miranda, portraying her as a “nice Puritan woman” who likes books. When Billy asks if this is really true, Flint just gives him That Wink. Billy spends the episode wavering between trying to support both Flint and protect the crew, clearly conflicted. This feeling intensifies when Logan asks whether Flint will give up trying to get the guns even if the situation becomes extremely dangerous, and Billy can see that Flint is risking the lives of men to get at the guns and knows what he did on the Maria Aleyne. The last straw is the discovery of Miranda’s letter and the realisation that she didn’t prevent Guthrie from betraying them like she was supposed to. Gates dismisses Billy’s doubts and refuses to get into it, mostly in a stategic move, knowing that Flint is the only one who can get them through this battle, and that they all need to obey him in this moment.

- Speaking of battles, this is the first prolonged sea battle we get to see, and the first time that Flint is given a really worthy opponent in the character of Bryson. Bryson is extremely clever and uses both sailing and defense/siege/booby-trap strategies that make taking the Andromache practically impossible to take. Flint shows a lot of resourcefulness in response: he seems to know exactly how much his ship can take and how to handle it (in spite of DeGroot’s warnings, which end up being unfounded for once) and hammers out a good (if dangerous) strategy to board the ship. However, this isn’t enough to outwit Bryson, who’s extremely well prepared for a siege if he gets boarded and has the Scarborough already heading their way. In fact if the slaves in the hold hadn’t helped the pirates, I doubt Flint would have had to leave without the guns. Even when he’s dying, Bryson still attempts to blow his ship up. In fact, his explosive booby trap has a real impact on what happens in the end of episode 6.

- It’s interesting to watch Dufresne in his first battle. He’s clearly meant for us to identify with, as the “nerd” on the ship who’s never seen battle. Following him allows us to see the faces of a lot of crew members, to feel the tension and fear before boarding the other ship, the desperation of the battle, and... okay I’m not sure just anyone would go feral like Dufresne does and rip someone’s throat out. This is definitely a turning point in Dufresne’s character.

- Something new in Billy’s character that he is shown lying to Dufresne to reassure him before the battle, using exactly the technique Flint mentioned earlier. First he tried telling Dufresne that guns only go off half the time - not at all reassuring. Then he tells Dufresne that sailors on their crew never die in their first battle. Only after the battle, does Dufresne realise that what Billy told him isn’t true - and tells Billy that he appreciates the lie. Does this change Billy’s point of view on lying? Is lying all right, for a good cause?

- In the meantime, Eleanor is saddled with Silver. I absolutely love this plot line and wish these two had worked together some more, because they’re hilarious. Silver knows that Eleanor’s angry with him and finally gets to find out that it’s because he involved Max in his scheme, but he flatly refuses taking any responsibility for that, saying it was Max’s choice (which it was). Later, when the angry pirates are turning into a mob, Silver is clearly getting anxious and Eleanor pretending not to be, he says: "if you're pretending to remain unconcerned for my peace of mind, please don't", a line mirrored in S2, where Flint openly admits to Silver that he’s “appearing unconcerned” as a strategy (and thus establishing the Flint/Eleanor parallel). Finally, Silver confronts Eleanor about the danger of not appeasing the mob by letting Vane operate out of Nassau again; she asks him to convince her why she should - and he actually does. It takes two hours, but he actually gets through to her. In this conversation, he utters the classic line “guilt is natural; it also goes away, if you let it”. Clearly he’s had to make some nasty choices for his survival, and likely he has quite a personal experience of mobs, too.

- Richard Guthrie continues to be one of the biggest assholes of the show. In these two episodes he 1) betrayed Mr Scott by telling Bryson to kidnap him and sell him as a slave, 2) announcing that he’s liquidating his holdings in Nassau without warning Eleanor and saddling her with the angry mob, 3) shamelessly revealing to Eleanor how he betrayed her and why, disregarding the fact that she’s made Nassau what it is over the last few years, 4) is worming his way into Mr Underhill’s good books and got himself a cosy and very safe place to live while all hell breaks loose in Nassau.

- Speaking of Mr Scott, he ends up amongst the slaves in Bryson’s ship and appears somewhat disdainful towards them, mostly because he doesn’t want to knows the realities of what would happen to them if they joined the pirates (some would still be sold as slaves). Eme believes that they should still seize their chance for freedom, but Mr Scott won’t help the pirates get these weapons, which “are dangerous to someone I love". This of course is understood as being Eleanor, but it also easily be interpreted as the Maroon Queen/Madi in light of S3. In fact, it makes much more sense that he is resisting the Urca plan to protect them/his community than because he’s worried that Eleanor will be killed. Eme counters that he’ll never see this person again, which still isn’t quite enough to break his resolve. Finally, once Mr Scott has changed his mind and helped free the slaves and ended up helping Flint, he has a conversation with him. Flint decides not to tell the crew of Mr Scott's betrayal, because he’d rather prove Mr Scott wrong re: making Nassau into more than it currently is.

- Anne’s inability to bear the violence done to Max comes to a head in these episodes. First she dismisses Mrs Mapleton who’s not being all too gentle while “tending” to Max, and the brief talk between Max and Anne seems to reinforce Anne’s resolve to stop Hamund (looked him up) (but did they really need to bond while Anne pushes a phallic instrument into Max’s cervix after lubing it up? there’s clear sexual innuendo in the way it’s filmed and it’s pretty inappropriate). It’s only when Rackham sees Anne defending the entrance to Max’s tent and can’t believe that Anne would put herself in danger over “a fucking whore”, that it finally dawns on him that Anne is horrified with this situation (something he could have guessed considering the circumstances in which he met Anne). Once Max is freed and thanks Anne, Anne tells her that she didn’t do it for Max. Which is probably not completely true, but again what we know of Anne’s past also means that she didn’t want to see any woman treated that way.

- The theme of men siding together and not listening to women comes up several times in these two episodes. Guthrie says that he persuaded Mr Scott to betray Eleanor because “we talked like men and he saw reason”. The “like men” suggests that men support each other’s decisions, especially to resist a woman’s folly. The Consortium refuses to listen to Eleanor unless a respected captain, in this case Hornigold, also backs it. But of course Hornigold won’t back it unless Eleanor allows Vane to become a captain again; he considers how Vane’s men are treating the “thieving whore” to be of absolutely no relevance. Rackham opposes Anne’s attempt at stopping Hamund from visiting Max to protect her from Hamund, who he fears would harm Anne. And finally, Pastor Lambrick doesn’t believe Miranda when she tells him that doesn’t need to fear Flint’s anger.

- An answer to this is unlikely collaboration between women people in ep 6, aka, Eleanor and Anne who deeply despises her. Both of them share a sense of responsibility for what happened to Max, and believe that they’ll only feel better when Max is free and Hamund is dead. John “guilt will go away if you let it” Silver is roped into the plot, when Eleanor, reminds him that he’s a “loose end” to Flint, who will likely want to get rid of him, and promises to tell Flint not to kill Silver after he’s served his purpose if Silver helps them. Which he does, begrudgingly, and at the risk of getting murdered by Hamund at any moment. This puts Eleanor and Anne’s plan to kill Vane’s remaining crew into place, and ruffles Rackham’s feathers: he’s forced to help kill even the men who aren’t disgusting rapists like Hamund. He asks "do I not deserve say", to which Anne answers "you had your say, now I have mine". GOOD FOR HER.

- When the dust settles, we get a really interesting moment where Silver accurately analyses Eleanor, pointing out that she can’t stand to be wrong, feel weak or let anyone get away with fucking with her - which makes her in his opinion possibly more dangerous than Flint. Does this mean that Silver still thinks he had a genuine chance of winning Flint over and surviving him even without Eleanor’s help? (he’d be right, considering how his relationship with Flint evolves later on the show; perhaps the difference between Flint and Eleanor is that because she’s a woman, she can’t *afford* to show any weakness at all)

- Lambrick has his big moment in episode 6 when he rides chivalrously to Miranda in the middle of the night, hoping to save her from Flint’s retribution. Instead of really reassuring him, Miranda chooses to talk about Thomas instead. This is where we hear the most about Thomas in S1, and the way Miranda speaks about him is clearly loving and admiring. She compares Thomas to Lambrick, saying that he was also a sort of shepherd (the comparison stops here imo). Then she imagines how Thomas would have played devil’s advocate, left all of Lambrick’s beliefs in tatters, all for his own good, to free him from the yoke of shame. I can’t help but think, from her teasing tone and the way she smiles, that she believes that Thomas would have somehow debauched Lambrick. The fact that she decides to have sex with him moments later certainly supports that idea. The ghost of Thomas looms on this scene, and it could be that she briefly imagines being with him, which could explain her smile and the way she holds him afterwards. But Miranda had another reason for sleeping with him: it was a very good way to make him stop asking questions about Flint.

- And in the meantime, Flint knows that Billy has been asking questions about Miranda and overheard him talking angrily with Gates about the letter. It just so happens that Billy has to go cut off a piece of the Andromache’s sail that’s slowing the Walrus down, which puts him in a secluded and dangerous spot. The conversation between Flint and Billy is very brief: Flint asks about the letter Billy found, and Billy answers “I think you know what was in it”. Actually, no, Flint has NO CLUE what was in it. Whatever else passes between them is a mystery, and the next thing we know is Flint announcing that Billy went overboard. We see him hovering behind Gates, watching him intently, until Gates decides that they can’t turn back for Billy. The camera pans a lot on Flint’s face, and his expression is quite unreadable. At first I wasn’t convinced that he’d pushed Billy, but on this watch I’m not so sure, because of the way Flint’s face is filmed. There’s also a sort of clue where we see Flint throw Billy’s sword into the sea during the burial at sea ritual. Of course as Captain he was meant to do that... but the gesture is suggestive of him throwing Billy himself. It’s certainly true that Billy had become a thorn in his side for two reasons: 1) he was one of the rare crew members who could influence Gates and get him on his side; 2) he was much too interested in who Mrs Barlow was and what her motivations were - if Billy had alerted the crew of what she’d done, Miranda may have been in danger (a mob quickly turns against a witch who works against the crew).

- To finish on Flint and Miranda: season 1 has painted them as a unit, an inseparable pair, working as a team (in supernatural ways, sometimes). And to some extent they are. Even at this time where they are truly at odds, where Miranda has tried to take control of Flint’s fate behind his back, they are still protecting each other. Flint doesn’t reveal anything about Miranda and possibly attempts to kill Billy to protect her, while Miranda seduces Pastor Lambrick as a way to distract him from his questions about Flint. She can’t convince him to believe her, but she herself is clearly convinced that Flint is a good, decent person (as she tells the Boston judge in her letter) and she trusts that he knows that she only tried to stop him get the Urca because she wanted to save him - something he will come to accept by the end of S2 (unfortunately for them).

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etoileholland · 4 years

Text

I will make it up to you

@secretmongereaglegiant asked: Hey, I love reading all your Tom Holland imagines! Could you do one of the boys and Tom’s girlfriend y/n are stuck in quarantine but y/n and Harrison haven’t been getting along and it worries Tom.

Pairing: Tom x female reader

Warnings: angst, a sprinkling of bad words, fluff at the end.

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: My first request! Thank you so much for requesting this! I elaborated on it slightly, but I hope that you enjoy it and that I did it justice. As always, requests are open! And let me know if you want to be added to the tag list 💛

(the gif is not mine, all credit goes to its respective owner)

Although being quarantined wasn’t the best, it did have its perks. You were spending more time with Tom than you had in a long time, and it was nice to be able to catch up on movies and TV shows that you didn’t have time to watch earlier. You were also becoming closer with the boys, and they were becoming more like your little brothers than they were friends.

Except for one.

Even from the beginning, you and Harrison butted heads. You were cut from the same cloth, and it only became more amplified when you were stuck in the same home. It could also be attributed to the fact that it’s already been two months of quarantine, and everyone was starting to become stir crazy.

The squabbles started off small, but as time went on, they became worse.

“I can’t stand you, do you know that?” You scoffed as Harrison stood in the kitchen.

“Back at you princess, I can’t believe we’re stuck in the same home, it’s unbearable.”

“Well it wouldn’t be so unbearable if you actually washed the dishes or took out the trash, or I don’t know, stopped blasting music at 2am when everyone is trying to sleep!”

“I didn’t realise me playing music interrupted your 23 hour beauty sleep. You should shoot for 24 hours instead.” He smirked, and you felt as though you could strangle him.

You stood there for a moment, bringing your hands up in the air, before letting out a sigh.

“Okay I’m going to be the better person here and walk away. You can have the last word.” You made your way out of the kitchen calmly, and were met with Tom standing in the hallway.

“Whoa baby what happened? Why were you two fighting?” He asked as he pulled you into an embrace.

“He just doesn’t do anything useful, you know? I have no idea how you’ve been friends with him for this long.” You spoke against his chest, and he rubbed your back. He paused for a minute and didn’t say anything.

Seeing you two argue broke Tom’s heart, and he realised in that moment that this could be a bigger problem than he originally thought.

“He’s not so bad, darling. You could try to play nice with him for a change.” You scoffed, and Tom just laughed.

“Well he started it!” You whined like a child, and Tom just pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Doesn’t matter. Anyway, wanna go for a walk with me and Tessa?” He asked and you nodded, grabbing your coat.

—

The next week wasn’t much better. Another argument started when Tom suggested that everyone should watch ‘Knifes Out’ together.

“I don’t want to watch a film with her.” Harrison emphasized, “she talks way too much and gets excited and then you have to rewind it to hear what the actors said. It gets annoying after a while.” He huffed as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Yeah well at least I’m not a stoic statue of a person who has no emotions whatsoever.” You retorted, and Tom only sighed.

You got up from Tom’s lap and stood up. “I don’t even want to watch the movie, I’m gonna go upstairs and take a bath instead.” You said as Harrison just smiled.

“Thank god, I can’t stand her sometimes.” He tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth as he pushed play on the film. Tom shot him a glance, and Harrison just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not my fault you decided to date Y/N, or should I say, the devil in disguise.”

—

A few days later when Tom wanted to exercise with Harrison, you became really clingy with him and insisted that he cuddled with you instead.

“But baby I have to work out, you don’t want me getting all soft and flabby do you?” Tom asked as you placed kisses all along his jaw.

“But I want to cuddle.” You whined as you kissed Tom down his neck. He moaned as he pulled you closer into his lap so that your chest was flush against his. You knew exactly what you were doing, but you just wanted him all to yourself. Also, you were doing it out of spite for Harrison.

“Fine darling you win, I’ll cuddle with you.” You let out a small squeal as you placed a kiss on his lips, before nuzzling your face into his neck.

A few minutes later Harrison knocked on yours and Tom’s bedroom door to see what was taking him so long. He opened the door to see you and Tom cuddling, and he gave Harrison a sympathetic glance.

“Sorry mate, Y/N wants to cuddle right now but I promise I’ll workout with you tomorrow. Isn’t that right angel, you’ll let me workout tomorrow?” He cooed as you nodded your head. Just then, you looked up grinning at Harrison, shooting him a look as if to say “I won.”

Harrison huffed as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

—

Tom felt really torn when hanging out with the both of you. You were his girlfriend and Harrison was his best friend, but you two didn’t get along well at all. It pained him to see that you two couldn’t stand each other for more than five minutes. And he felt guilty when he would spend more time with you than Harrison, and vice versa. It never seemed that he could please you both, but he was determined to make it work.

He was worried that the worst was yet to come, but he didn’t anticipate how quickly it would come.

—

As promised, Tom went to workout with Harrison the next day, but you weren’t keen on the idea of not spending time with Tom.

“C’mon Haz, am I not allowed to watch my strong boyfriend work out?” You cooed as you squeezed Tom’s bicep.

“You can, maybe you can even help with my workout, darling.” Tom said as you clapped. Harrison was glaring at you, and you shot him an innocent look back.

“You don’t even need her help! What is she gonna do, help you lift weights or something?” He threw his hands up, already exasperated.

“I don’t know, she can be here for support, isn’t that right angel?” Tom asked as you kissed his shoulder.

“Exactly.” You grinned as Harrison snarled at you.

You were always lurking around, practically hanging off of Tom, and it infuriated Harrison. He just wanted to spend some time with his mate but you were always vying for Tom’s attention as well.

And one day, Harrison set you off completely, and it was almost irreconcilable.

—

“You fucking idiot! I wish I could just go back home and not look at your god awful face every morning!” You chucked his phone at his face, and he barely dodged it. It smacked against the wall, leaving a dent, but his phone was in perfect condition.

Harrison picked up his phone and inspected it before stuffing it in his pocket. “Good thing I have an Samsung, there’s not one crack in it.” He smirked and let out a small laugh. “Unlike your iPhone that fell off the table and shattered into a million pieces.”

“My phone didn’t ‘fall off the table’-” you gestured, making air quotes with your hands, “it was shoved off the table by a certain someone who thought it would be funny to see how durable my case was. It fell outside on the concrete, of course it would fucking break!” You let out a laugh as you became more furious.

“Well then, you should’ve had a better case.” Harrison smirked. He was having far too much fun annoying you, and he began to laugh when he saw how visibly angry you were becoming.

“I swear I could murder you right now.” You sneered, and Harrison only laughed. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re just a conceited asshole, who’s so vain that you have to have constant validation from literal strangers on the internet to make yourself feel better?” You took a deep breath, pausing before you continued. “But the truth is, if the fans actually knew you like I do, they would be repulsed by how unbearable you truly are.” You crossed your arms as Harrison’s smirk dropped and was replaced with a clenched jaw.

You two stood there in silence, and you were starting to become slightly afraid of the man standing in front of you. Sure he was only a bit taller than you, but the look in his eyes screamed ‘revenge’.

“You know what, Y/N? I literally have had enough of your shit as well. Tom thinks that you are a literal angel, but the truth is that you are the most high maintenance, manipulative and complainy bitch in the world. Trust me, I can see why fans are constantly sending you hate and saying that you don’t deserve Tom, because it’s true. You’re just vile.” He emphasized the last word, and he froze as he saw Tom standing there, jaw clenched.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” You looked over and saw Tom holding in tears. “Listen, I love you both equally. Harrison, you’re like my brother, and Y/N, I’m madly in love with you. But right now I can’t stand either one of you. The two people I love more than anything in the world can’t get along, and god it breaks my heart.” He sniffled as he wiped away a tear. You took a step towards him but he took a step back.

“I’m pissed off, and I don’t want to do something, or say something that I know I’ll regret. So until you two can get along, I want the both of you to leave me alone. Y/N you can sleep on the couch tonight.” He said coldly as he took another step back.

“Tom.” You pleaded, but he held a finger up.

“I am this close-” he held up two fingers and pinched them together, “to breaking up with you. Don’t say one more word. And you-” he pointed to Harrison, “are getting on my nerves so much that I’m tempted to pack your things and kick you out. I don’t care that there’s a plague going on, I am so furious that I would kick you out in a heartbeat. Why the fuck can’t you two get along?” He stormed out of the room and went into his bedroom, slamming the door shut.

You and Harrison stood there in silence, shocked at what just happened. After a minute, Harrison spoke.

“Shit, we’ve really fucked up now. He never gets this mad at people, and when he does, that means he’s at the end of his rope.” Harrison muttered as you began to cry. “Even if we can’t stand each other, we have a mutual love for Tom. And right now, he’s ready to get rid of the both of us if we continue to argue.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Half the time, our arguing is pointless anyway. How did this even start?” You wiped a tear away from your cheek and Harrison just shrugged.

“Honestly, I have no clue. I think it may be because we’re kinda similar in a lot of ways.”

“Maybe, we’re both slightly passive aggressive.”

“And we’re both competitive.” Harrison replied

“And we’re always vying for Tom’s attention. Does that make us jealous?” You asked, and Harrison nodded.

“I’ve always been jealous, it’s a bad habit of mine.”

“Me too.” You replied as you took a seat at the kitchen island. Harrison pulled a beer out of the fridge. He proceeded to open it and leaned against the counter, taking a long drink.

“You know, maybe we could put our differences aside for Tom. We’re both very important people in his life, and why would we toss all that aside just because we’re arguing? You asked as you massaged your temples. “Can you grab a beer for me please?”

“Since when do you drink? You’re always nagging us to stop drinking because it’s bad for our health.” Harrison replied.

“Yeah well I think the situation calls for it, now gimme.” You made grabby hands as he walked over and handed you the drink. You took a sip and grimaced. “God this stuff is terrible! How can you even drink this?” You scrunched your nose up as you slid the drink over. “I need a chaser, asap.”

Harrison laughed as he reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Coca Cola for you. He popped the lid off and set it down in front of you.

“Thank you.” You took a sip and smacked your lips together. “Now this is better.” You both laughed, and for the first time in a while, you were actually enjoying his company.

“I have an idea.” You stated, which caused Harrison to look up at you. He raised his eyebrow as took another sip of his beer, finishing it before reaching for yours.

“Oh no, what is it?” He asked as you grinned.

“Why don’t we do something really nice for Tom so that he can see that we work together well, and so he’ll forgive us really quickly because I already miss him.”

“Okay, let’s show Tom that we can be friendly so that he won’t kick us out of here!” Harrison walked over and you two high fived.

“So what’s the plan?” You asked as you took another sip of your soda. Harrison pulled up the chair next to you and sat down, contemplating on what to do next.

“I don’t know, maybe we can make him a cake that says ‘sorry for being ass-hats’.” He laughed as you sat there thinking about it.

“Let’s do it.” You clapped your hands together and stood up from the chair.

“You can’t be serious, really?” Harrison asked as you began to rummage around the cupboard for baking ingredients.

“Why not? What have we got to lose? And besides, it would show that we can put our disdain aside and collaborate on something. Can you grab the sugar for me please? I’m too short to reach it.”

Harrison laughed as he walked over and grabbed the bag of sugar for you. “Okay if I remember correctly, Tom loves chocolate cake. Or was it red velvet cake that he likes? Hm I’m not sure, anyway let’s make him whatever kind of cake that we can, with the ingredients we have lying around.” You nodded as you grabbed the well loved cookbook from the counter and flipped through it.

“What do we have in the cupboards? Can you please check love?” You asked Harrison as he let out a small laugh.

“Oh now we’re calling each other pet names? Look at us being amicable, princess.” He added as you let out a laugh.

After a few minutes of searching, you realised you had nothing good to throw into a cake.

“Well, so much for that.” Harrison tossed his apron on the counter, but you had an idea.

“We have an egg, graham crackers and some chocolate, right?” You asked and Harrison nodded.

“Good, I can make a French Silk pie real quick. it’s almost so good that it might make Tom forget how much he’s mad at us.”

And the pie was almost that good. Harrison even surprised the household by preparing dinner. He had made tortellini and garlic bread for everyone, and you had helped with dessert.

“Wow, what happened? And why are you two not killing each other?” Sam asked as he hesitantly took a seat at the table. Harry soon followed as he let out a gasp. “You didn’t kill Tom, did you? Is that why we haven’t seen him all day?” He asked as you and Harrison both shook your head no.

“Well, you see, Tom is mad at the both of us because we can’t get along.”

“He’s ready to break up with Y/N and kick me out of the house.” Harrison added.

“That is true, he did say that. But we’re hoping that he’ll forgive us, and see that Harrison and I are now friends.” He looked at you and nodded, and Sam and Harry just sat there in silence.

“Right, well good luck with that. I don’t think he can be won over that easy.” Sam added as Harry nodded.

Tuwaine came in and took a seat at the table as well. “Oh yeah I heard your argument, it was rough.” He said as he took a bite of the garlic bread. “Damn that’s good.” He said as he took another bite.

Tom came down from his room and stormed past you both so he could grab a glass of water. His face was puffy, and his eyes were swollen and red. You could tell that he had been crying, and it broke your heart that you couldn’t console him. You were the reason he was crying.

“Hey, um Harrison and I cooked for you. We made tortellini, garlic bread, and pie for dessert.” You spoke quietly, as if not to anger him anymore.

“That’s true, we make a good team.” Harrison added as he put his arm around you. Tom stood there expressionless, and just nodded.

“Cool, thanks.” He grabbed a plate and dished himself up. He stormed past you again, making his way back into his room and locking the door. Harry, Sam and Tuwaine all looked at you, pausing, before continuing to eat their dinner.

“Sam, I think you may be right. He’s gonna he mad at us for a long time.”

—

Later that night, after you and Harrison washed the dishes, you tried to get into Tom’s room. You remembered that he said you could sleep on the couch tonight, but you didn’t really think he meant it.

“Tommy, it’s late. Can you open the door so I can go to bed?” You asked through the door, and you heard some shuffling inside the room. Tom cracked the door open and threw some clothes at you, and swiftly closed and locked the door. “I meant it when I said you would be sleeping on the couch tonight.” He replied coldly.

You began to cry as you realised the extent of the situation, and how he was showing no sign of changing his mind. You picked up the clothes and made your way into the living room. It was nearly midnight and everyone else was in their rooms, so you got changed in the living room and crawled onto the couch. You sobbed loudly, letting out little hiccups as you cried some more. A few minutes later Harrison came out of his bedroom, pillow and blanket in hand.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up with my crying.” You sobbed as you rubbed your eyes.

“You didn’t, I mean I could hear you, but that’s not why I came in here. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for Tom to be so mad at you, and I didn’t think he was really willing to break up with you over our feud.” He handed you the blanket and pillow, and you set them on the couch. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I think I was just mad that you were always wanting to spend time with him. You do make him really happy though, when you’re not around he constantly gushes about you.” He looked down and you motioned for him to sit next to you on the couch.

“I’m sorry too, I also didn’t mean anything I said earlier. I think I was just jealous of you spending time with him; it felt like you were taking him away from me. And it’s been hard since I can’t go back home, you know. It’s hard not being around family, and I forget that Tom and the boys are your family. I guess I haven’t really handled this whole situation well, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” You sniffed. Harrison handed you the tissue box and you smiled.

“I’m sorry Y/N for being a jerk.”

“And I’m sorry for being a bitch.” You added.

“You’re not, you’re really good for him.”

“You too.”

You scooted closer to Harrison and put your head on his shoulder. He stroked your hair and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Friends?” He asked as he extended his hand out.

“Friends.” You said as you shook his hand, signifying that your feud was over.

“Would you want to watch a movie?” Harrison asked as you moved your head so that you could look at him.

“I thought you hated watching movies with me. I talk too much and get too excited.” You said as he frowned.

“I didn’t mean that either, you’re just really passionate about things and I envy that about you.” He added and you grabbed his hand. You gave it a little squeeze before letting go.

“And I envy that you’re not dramatic.” You let out a laugh, and Harrison joined in. He positioned himself so that he was laying on the couch, and his head was on your lap. You were stroking his head and playing with his hair.

“How about you pick the movie, princess.” He whispered as you grabbed the remote.

“Is Tangled okay, love?” You whispered back and he only nodded.

“Of course.”

A few minutes into the film, you both were starting to get sleepy. You crawled next to him so that you were both laying on the couch next to each other. He put his arm around your waist, and you covered both you and him with the blanket. Before you knew it, you were both sound asleep.

Tom woke up at 3am, and nearly had a panic attack when he realised you weren’t sleeping next to him.

Oh that’s right, I’m mad at my girlfriend and best friend. He thought to himself. His head was pounding from all the crying, and he knew that he was dehydrated. Slowly, he got up, holding a hand to his forehead as he went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

He walked past the living room, but stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Harrison curled up next to each other on the couch. You two looked peaceful, and Harrison’s lips were curled into a little smile.

He let out a small smile, and a tear escaped his eye. This was the first time that you two had gotten along, and the sight of it made him cry. He tried to contain his crying but he couldn’t, the tears were steaming down his face. He let out a small sob, and he tried his best to not wake you.

You had woken up to see Tom standing there, sobbing. You looked over at Harrison, who was also stirring.

“Oh shit.” You said under your breath. Harrison immediately untangled himself from you as you both sat up. You were expecting Tom to be mad and accuse you of cheating, but instead he only shook his head.

“So, you two really do get along now.” He said as he wiped a tear away. You handed him a tissue and he took it, blowing his nose before tossing it in the garbage.

“Yeah, Y/N and I are friends now. We pushed our differences aside and realised that the other person isn’t so bad.” You both looked at each other and smiled, and looked back at Tom.

“Tommy I’m sorry for being terrible and for not getting along with Harrison.”

“I’m sorry for not getting along with Y/N, she’s lovely and I’m happy she’s your girlfriend.”

“I’m happy he’s your best friend.” You added as Harrison kissed you on the top of the head.

“And I’m sorry for threatening to break up with you, and also saying that I would kick you out. I didn’t mean it at all, and I’m sorry.” Tom let out a hiccup as he wiped a tear away. “Do you forgive me?” He whispered as you all nodded. Tom held out his arms as you and Harrison both went to give him a hug. After a minute and some more crying, you all pulled away. Tom then grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into a long kiss.

“I love you Y/N, so much. I can’t spend any more time without you.” He sobbed as you put your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his.

“Will you sleep with me, please? I miss you.” He whispered and you replied “Of course.” He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his torso.

“Harrison, I love you mate.” Tom said, still carrying you as you placed kisses along his jaw.

“I love you too mate, now go get some sleep.” He replied as Tom led you into his bedroom.

—

After this, you and Harrison were nearly inseparable.

“Okay so I was thinking, you could join me on my jog today and then you could teach me some yoga.” Harrison stated as you were all having breakfast. You took a sip of your coffee and nodded. You two were sitting next to each other, with your shoulders touching.

“And after that, we can watch Fleabag together.” You added as he nodded excitedly.

“Oh! We can’t forget about working on that puzzle.”

“And you still have to buy me a new phone, you did shatter mine.” You added as you both laughed.

“With a better case, of course.” He said as you lightly elbowed him in the side.

“Oh, definitely.” You laughed, as Harrison looked over at you and grinned.

Tom sat across from you both as you made plans for the whole day, and a smile crept onto his face.

“Can I join in?” He asked as you and Harrison both glanced at him.

“Hmm, nope, sorry mate. She’s all mine now.” Harrison said, leaning his head on your shoulder as Tom pouted.

“Something tells me I’m going to be the third wheel from now on.” Tom remarked as everyone at the table broke out in laughter.

——

Mes petits anges (taglist): @starkissedholland @scarletxwidow @fangirlwithasweettooth

#soft boyfriend Tom #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #tom holland x female reader #tom holland and you #tom holland and y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland writing #mine #text #tom holland headcanon #tom holland one shot

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h4z-being-dum · 3 years

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Killermare - Distractions (For Poppo)

-- NSFW, Breast Play, Teasing, Orgasm Denial, Humiliation, Heatfic, Angst --

-- Warning: Graphic Violence in part of the story, viewer discretion advised --

-- Entire Story inspired by Poppo’s comic, please follow them on twitter if 18+. @/poppikel --

There he sat, the golden prince of positivity. Dream, an enemy to Nightmare and his gang. The prince was much more than elusive, he was nearly impossible to catch. This time however, the prince’s dear brother had gotten the positive into his dark clutches. He was help up by some chains against the wall. The chains clinked as if in a melody of suffering, thousands of tortured metallic souls trapped in those heavy iron chains. He coughed up blood, wanting this suffering to end. Suffering of beatings and Killer’s taunting, husky, asshole-ish voice muse over the suffering prince.

The bleedy-eyed deadbeat tortured him, continuing to try to pry information about the apples out of the prince. Dream didn’t budge, he stood his ground and continued. Then it happened, Killer brushed up against Dream’s sensitive pelvis causing his ecto to summon and a wave of heat wash over him. The heat was extremely strong, he tried to distract himself by focusing on the pain. “You’re pretty tough to break, ain’t ya, little light.~” Killer purred. The prince gritted his teeth in frustration, this wasn’t a fair fight, this wasn’t a fight at all, just in spite. Nightmare suddenly spoke, no.. screamed. “WHAT THE FUCK WOULD IT TAKE FOR YOU TO STAND DOWN, YOU BITCH OF A BROTHER?!” He howled. Dream mumbled something under his breath, feeling more heat wash over him. “SPEAK UP YOU PATHETIC MISTAKE!” He tormented. “I-I said.. suffocate me.. with y-your tits..” Nightmare’s grin turned into a concerned expression. Staring at Dream. “E-excuse me?..” Nightmare stammered. The target souled skeleton declared his presence with a small tease. “Oh nighty..~” The king was embarrassed. “S-shut up Killer..” He tried to yell but it came out like a small whimper.

“Cmon, you would do anything to get those apples into your hands, right? So let me help you, if Dream sees a show, he might tell us of the whereabouts.” Killer responded convincingly. “T-true but we only do that in private, not in front of anybody none the less my fucking brother also known as my worst enemy!” Nightmare complained. “I promise it’ll be quick, in and out.” Killer tried again using trickery like usual. “F-fine.. but i-if this gets out, you’re a dead skeleton.” Nightmare huffed. “Noted.~” Killer grinned looking back at the prince who gave him a small nod. He was in on it, Dream knew Killer did this only because he cared for his brother and was forced into it. He felt bad so he wanted to give the soldier some relief. Nightmare cautiously summoned his chest. He yelped as he felt the rest of his ecto summon letting his clothes tear a bit. “D-dream.. you givin’ up now?” Killer asked. “Maybe if he strips some.~” Dream responded. “Bro..” they said in unison. “YOU FOOLS STOP PLANNING AND DO SOMETHING!” Nightmare interrupted. Killer grinned taking one last glance at Dream. “Nice tits.~” Killer bluntly said. Nightmare took a second but looked flustered covering his face screaming into his hands. That gave Killer the time to loosen Dream’s restraints and also unlock the cuffs.

The king was distracted now, Killer stalked behind him and grabbed hold of his chest. Rubbing the clothed breasts. “A-ah~ F-fuck.. k-killer.~” Nightmare moaned out. “So sensitive today, boss, must be heat season for monsters with tits like your’s!~” Killer mused. “S-shut up..” Nightmare denied. Killer roughly played around with the king’s chest, letting his hands do as they pleased. The bleedy eye’d menace pinched on the nipples before letting them go causing the king to let out a strangled moan that sounded like frustration. He tried to resist the urge of grinding against Killer while rubbing his thighs together but his will wasn’t strong and he grinded against his girthy red dick, covered by his shorts. Killer chuckled continuing to rub. “How does this feel, bossy?~” Killer asked. “H-how does w-WHA- AAHH~” Nightmare moaned out as Killer yanked back on his tits. “So sensitive, so sexy.~” He commented. Nightmare was frustrated with his right hand. “Want me to take your shirt off?~” Killer asked. The king couldn’t respond he was drooling and couldn’t say no. “I’ll take this as a yes?~” Killer responded, taking out his knife and slashing his shirt. The shirt, now in tatters, fell to the ground in shreds. Nightmare stared at his used to be shirt and glared at Killer. Dream had now. broken loose through all the moaning and had hidden under a table grabbing a camera and turning it on, letting the recording whirr. Killer grabbed hold of his now naked body, jiggling his tits around grinning as his black ooze dripped down his face. He gave Nightmare’s neck a small kiss then bit down, hard. His drool ran down his neck. His fangs pierced the bone letting a tiny bit of blood drip down. Killer sucked on it, mmm yes, tastes like irony. “I can’t believe you let me do this to you, you must be in heat!~” Killer exclaimed. “I wonder how wet you are..~” Killer mused as he let his hand wander down to Nightmare’s pussy. He plunged two fingers in and let them explore his pussy. He grinded his palm against his clit letting Nightmare get wetter. The king let out strangled moans, his brother giggling lightly still filming his brother. Killer’s fingers stretched and tickled Nightmare’s insides. Dream got more than he wanted. He loved seeing his brother humiliated. He deserved this, thankfully, he never knew Dream was there. Nightmare’s pussy twitched in unison with his body. Nightmare’s slick coated Killer’s fingers as he yanked his fingers out, grinning. Killer hadn’t won yet, he wanted to tease Nightmare. The king panted in pleasure letting small tears flow. He was so pleased from Killer’s dedication. “Maybe I should leave you in your own cum, letting you suffer in pleasure.~” Killer said. He felt tendrils wrap around his neck squeezing. “Don’t. You. Dare.” Nightmare glared at Killer in hatred. “You will finished what you fucking started.” Nightmare slammed himself down on Killer’s now nude dick. He cried out in pleasure letting tears openly flow as he felt Killer begin to thrust. He was in heat too and he needed this taken care of. His slick still coated his pussy, Killer’s dick messed around in it messing up his pussy. His body was nothing more than a vessel for pleasure. He drooled all over Killer, he didn’t care about the mess, he’d just get a soldier to clean it. But then he thought about what they’d find and decided to get Killer to clean it. Killer’s dick thrusted against Nightmare’s walls, it might’ve been breaking him but this was so amazing. This pleasure was unimaginable. He hugged onto Killer moaning his name. He suddenly yelped as he felt something fill him up. Killer’s seed filled up his belly. His belly got so full, starting to let his womb swell while it filled up his walls. Killer’s cum leaked out of his pussy. He was now a broken mess. He had cum leaking out of him panting more. He then saw him, the golden prince still recording as he took the small chip of recorded evidence of Nightmare’s pleasure. Nightmare began to cry slightly, he loved the pleasure but he let Dream get away and got recorded. He’d never let killer do this again. At least he thought.

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

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Just A Dream Away

Chapter 4/13 read here on ao3!

for @harringrovebigbang

~~~~

Steve doesn’t know why he does this to himself.

It’s been, god how long has it even been since the funeral? Almost a year now according to the calendar, though in his head it’s only been weeks.

Time doesn’t really have much to do with it though. Unless they found a way to go back, Billy would still be gone, and he’d still go back to the cemetery each morning just to pretend he wasn’t, leftover alcohol in his system from the night before melding each passing day into a jumble of numbness.

And Steve, as he falls deeper into this routine of self torture, he’s becoming exhausted. Where he was once optimistic, or at least trying to stay focused on looking for the positives and back on the good times, now he's just empty.

He can’t pretend he’s not depressed anymore, and he can’t pretend things are going to be okay either.

As much as he is still hurting, Robin doesn’t let him just mope. If she knew what was making his heart ache, he thinks she might let him have a little more room to grieve, but she doesn’t know, she doesn’t even know how bad he truly gets when she’s not around, so she had made him accept the video store’s job offer they’d left for when his time as representative was finished.

Work is something to do to take his mind off of things, sure, and it’s a way to get him out of the house, but the only reason he accepted was because halfway between his house and the family video is the cemetery, and every day, whether he drives it or walks it depending on if he’s sober enough to take the car, he stops to pay his boyfriend a visit.

Most often he brings flowers, maybe blows a tearful kiss to the ground and moves on, but some days, like today, he feels a heaviness in his heart that tells him to show up hours before he’s due at his shift, ready to talk it out until he absolutely has to leave.

Maybe it’s a habit from the hospital, starting when he used to be cheerful and sit in the grass to talk about happy stories and good things that happened in his day to make Billy feel better. But a year into talking to the dirt instead of his lover had left him bitter, and he was far past that optimistic point, all that’s left now is guilt, remorse, all the feelings about the loss he’d thus far kept bottled up.

This particular morning, he’d awoken from a nightmare, what happened at the mall never leaving his memory, the flashes of sorrow and pain and death lingering behind his eyes when he tries to get even a moment's peace; everyday is hard, but when he wakes up with tears in his eyes, he knows what kind of day it’s going to be.

So he comes out to Hawkins cemetery, no gift in hand today except his company, and kneels in the muddy grass, damp from an overnight storm that contributed to his plagued rest and left him running on an hour, maybe two, of good sleep, and he just starts talking.

He starts with the basics, the generic greetings and declarations of love that he promises each morning, but his emotions quickly rise to the surface. Reaching out to trace his fingers over the indentations in the upright stone, his voice wobbles slightly, and he shifts from venting to what he came here for:

“Billy. Baby, I’m so sorry. I’ve been pretending things will be okay, but I know they won’t. I failed you. I wasn’t there for you and it’s my fault what happened to you. I don’t even deserve to sit here and cry with you. I know Max has but, have you forgiven me? I don’t know where you are now, but I don’t want you to hate me. I love you so much.”

The silence in response is daunting. Makes him want to scream so loud he could tear the earth apart looking for his Billy, but instead he just repeats his apologies and promises again and again until his tears slow. Eventually, when he’s run out of things to say, he stands, stray tears dripping from the end of his nose and rewetting the soil, and leaves.

Drives away to his job like nothing happened, strolling in some thirty minutes late for his shift. Because today is the premiere of some mainstream pop culture film that’s gone way over Steve’s head on video, the Family Video is packed.

“Hey, dingus. Could’ve used you at the start of your shift.” Robin shouts over the shop noise as he strolls past to his post.

Steve shrugs, an over-exaggerated gesture in case she can’t hear him over the crowd, “Well I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You are, but I don’t see you working. I need help restocking once those shelves are cleared out.”

“Yes ma’am.” Steve does a mocking salute, the grimace on Robin's face making it clear she can see through his overdone gestures that he’s hiding something, overcompensating for the emptiness he feels.

She doesn’t have the chance to bring it up though, because the both of them get whisked off into separate duties working the over capacity video store. Only, while Robin handles it like she would any other day, with mild annoyance and enough spite to get through it alright, Steve is too fragile. All he can register is commotion, chaos: the buzzing neon lights in the ceiling, surging crowds bumping into him, chatter and bustle filling his ears, and he starts to break down.

But because he’s Steve, he tries at first to just power through. Tries to block it out and resume productivity, but he is already knee deep in a panic attack, so he pushes back through the customers, probably a little too roughly, to tell Robin with that lilt of fear and upset to his tone, “Robin, I can’t be out here.”

She barely looks up as she kindly responds, “I get it, Steve. Go take your break, I’ll handle the rush.”

That’s exactly what he does, is go straight to the back room, but instead of his standard fifteen allotted by the overheads, he stays in the back for an hour, and then another, leaving behind customers arguing over who should get the last copy of the new movie, people in line out the door, tapes knocked off of the shelves, all while people are in trying to do their normal returns and rentals. It’s again total chaos out there, only made worse by the fact that Robin is now alone at the counter.

She would also have to clean up once the rush died, and maybe even replace some tapes if people weren’t going to start watching where they’re walking, and as much as Steve wanted to feel bad for disappearing into the back room for the past hour and a half and leaving her with all of that, he can’t be bothered with coming back out, his morning at the cemetery having taken too much from his emotional threshold to be productive, or remorseful even, now.

There are two big plush chairs and a couch in the back, a much nicer room than the icebox that was the Scoops break area, but Steve sits on the floor instead, his back pressed to the door and his stained up knees drawn to his chest. From where he is, the endless noise and bustle drifts down the short hall to the break room, but he’s too in his head, thinking about nothing and everything to pay it any mind.

It takes probably another an hour and a half for all the crowd to die down, the line clearing out and Robin chasing away most of the stragglers after explaining for the hundredth time that until the already rented out copies were returned, they wouldn’t get any more in and that no, they weren’t hiding any in the back.

Steve can hear her cleaning up a little before she gets too behind, cardboard boxes being broken down and the irritating scrape of broom bristles against dusty tiled floors, followed quickly by loud boot steps toward the door that make his chest ache, pretending it was the echoes someone else instead of his best friend.

The break room is locked behind him, something that is forbidden by company policy, but Steve felt necessary, and Robin beats on it with the palm of her hand, startling him out of the half dazed, half alert state he’s been in all day, “Harrington, what are you doing in there? I just did a whole rush by myself, asshole.”

He can’t father the words to respond, tears welling up and choking anything he might say off in his throat. So Robin calls again, the door knob rattling like she’s trying to get in, her voice more concerned, “Steve? You alive in there?”

“Steve.” She tries again, more desperate, and Steve finally finds it in himself to say something, sniffling and responding weakly, “‘M’fine Rob.”

“Can you let me in?” Robin suggests, just on the side of hesitant, making Steve feel something like guilt for shutting her out, both emotionally and in the literal sense, so he stands, shaky and unbalanced, and unlocks the door for her.

He must look as bad as he feels, because Robin's pinched face of concern melts into one of sympathy as soon as she lays eyes on him.

She steps into the back room with him, after a moment of pause which Steve had come to hate, knowing that meant whoever was speaking was going to take pity on him, asking, “You doing okay in here, buddy?”

“What does it look like?” There’s sarcasm and bitterness in his tone, though it’s muffled by his tears. He doesn’t worry about offending Robin, she’s been dealing with his breakdowns for a long time now, and she knew how he could get.

Patiently, in spite of his snappiness, she asks, “Can you tell me what happened?”

Steve’s not sure how that’s even a question anymore.

What happened was fighting monsters at the Byers. Was getting tortured in the Starcourt mall. Was losing his Billy.

To say that those things had a huge impact on him was a gross understatement. Hell, even Robin was affected too, the both of them incredibly emotionally fragile these days with about a thousand things that could trigger them, both were plagued by nightmares and flashbacks and panic attacks at random points in time. It shouldn’t be a mystery what was wrong now.

But having two hour long breakdowns in the employee lounge, Steve had to admit that was new, and Robin was obviously scared for him because of it.

So he lies, “It’s nothing, Robs. Just the same old stuf.” Steve isn’t a very good liar though, he can’t hold eye contact and his voice trails off, revealing him every time.

“Steve.” It was an attempt to appeal to him, maybe to ground him so he’d open up to her, “Please talk to me.”

An attempt, which he shuts down with, “We’re at work right now.”

Robin frowns, a crease in her eyebrow. He’s never seen her look more frustrated as she says, halfway between an insult and a joke, “No, I’m at work. You’re crying in the break room on the floor.”

But again, Steve is having it, “I’m serious, I don’t wanna talk about it here.”

He feels bad about being harsh with Robin, but his grief, this breakdown, it’s not for the general reasons she thinks, it’s specifically because of his visit to Billy’s grave this morning. The heavy realization of everything he’d vented to that cold stone that stood in place of the beaming face, the beautiful boy that always knew what to say, who he loved and still hadn’t told her about, that was what had pushed him over the emotional threshold.

“Alright, well, we’ve got like, an hour left before our shift is over, so you can just veg out back here or you can come and do some work.” Robing announces with a quick glance at her wrist watch, standing and patting the top of Steve’s head just to mess up his hair like he hated before walking out of the room.

At least she was trying.

It takes him a few minutes to find the will to follow her out, but eventually he does sidle up beside her at the front counter, his posture weak and his muddy shoes dragging on the ground, but he’s there, earning a taunting flash of Robins biggest and snarkiest grin as she slides him a stack of tapes that need rewinding.

They don’t get many customers after the initial rush of the early afternoon where he was out for, but he can tell Robin was still keeping her eye on him, just in case he needed a break, or in case he did break himself. Anymore, and much to his dismay, it doesn’t take much to get him overwhelmed, especially not if he was already upset, but he makes sure not to let that show now, putting on a mask like everything is okay, and he is managing it just fine.

Because the thing is, he isn’t managing anything, he’s still grief stricken and he’s drinking himself half to death and he has no future ahead but more sadness, but he’d be damned if he let anybody figure that out. Let anybody worry about him, when he was still living. In his eyes, it’s selfish to expect pity, when you’ve already survived the worst.

He thinks though, by the time their work is almost done, that Robin is starting to suspect something, because the second their shift is over, before the guys to cover the closing shift even show, she’s dragging him out of the store, snatching the keys for the BMW out of Steve's back pocket.

It goes without discussing anymore that on bad days, Robin doesn’t take Steve back home, which is to say, the two of them had been pretty much sharing her dinky little duplex apartment, the two of them living in the right side with a nosy older lady in the other. They both were afraid of what he could do when he was home alone, and, Robin didn’t really know this, but Steve was also afraid of what his father might say the day the dozens of rooms in that house weren’t enough to avoid him, when he realized how pathetic a state his son was in.

The living arrangement didn’t change much though. Steve still wasn’t very good at talking through his problems, and he still wouldn’t eat or shower or sleep regularly. He knew it scared Robin, because it scared him too, but he had other things to worry about.

Maybe it was true that he was so sensitive that it took practically nothing to send him over the edge, but it's not a big deal, he’ll be alright, how are you doing anyway? Robin always has to fight so hard just to get him to talk to her, his best friend who he all but lives with, because all he is worried about is other people. Something to do with losing the one person he was always caring for, trying to make up for not being able to save Billy’s life, or help him through his hardest moments. He knows that, but it doesn’t matter why he’s selfless, as long as he is, right?

Further, he reasons, so what if he’d had a concussion so bad that he still gets migraines that leave him bedridden at times? His friend is hurting and he needs to be there for her. Who cares if he has nightmares so intensely vivid he can’t sleep for weeks at a time? Robin has panic attacks in crowded places, and each time he has to fret about it for days.

It makes her worried sick all the time, knowing that Steve all but refuses to tell her if he needs something, but he doesn’t like feeling studied, can tell she is always looking for signs that something is wrong, watching him to make sure he didn’t do anything he shouldn’t. All she wants is for him to just stop bottling everything up, because she claims she had and it made everything easier for her to cope with, but he’s stubborn.

That just isn’t the way his brain works, and she’s probably sick of trying to get through to him. Somewhere in the back of Steve’s mind, he knows she’s not far from a breakthrough with him, his own coping mechanisms exhausting him to the point he might consider external help, but she doesn’t have to know that yet. For now, she sticks to what she always does in place of these tougher conversations, and that’s to make Steve tea and try to work him down to the point where he’ll talk to her. Today, it’s not going to take much convincing.

The second day he’d ever come over here, she tried to make a pot of coffee for a little chat like this, and Steve had started crying like a baby just from the way it smelled. It reminded him of his mother, of diner dates with Billy and nurses bringing him breakfast, so she had to switch to tea. He could tell it would always bother her when he wouldn’t tell her why something like that was making him so upset, but as Robin would have to come to realize the more he stayed with her, that was just the first of many things she didn’t understand about Steve Harrington.

There were endless triggers that set him off that she witnessed, and when she comforted him, he could tell she understood some of them, like when the lights would flicker when Dorothy ran her vacuum and he’d stop breathing, or when a siren would start up in the distance and he’d get so dizzy and his hands would shake so badly. But it was those overly specific things, like the smell of coffee, that she was sure had nothing to do with what they went through, and her confidence through those breakdowns would be noticeably a lot lower.

Pine tree air fresheners, the click of stilettos on tiled floors, leather car seats, the busy tone of the telephone, cigarette smoke, rose scented perfume, hairspray, crystalline ash trays. The list of things that reminded him of his parents and the utter helplessness of growing up alone and scared, and of his Billy, of everything he had lost when he died. To Robin, who didn’t have the context of his feelings, it just felt like every day there was something new that would set Steve back ten steps in the progress he’d made, and he knew it was making Robin feel so helpless and guilty.

She was getting better while he was still so thoroughly depressed, and she would take missteps on purpose to not get too far ahead of him. He was sabotaging his best friend with his own misery.

The thought draws stinging tears to his eyes, and Steve sits down at the table without saying a word to Robin, knows his composure will crack the moment he opens his mouth.

She finishes making their tea, specifically lemon flavored with two spoonfuls of honey and one of sugar, sliding him his tea in a tacky mug she’d bought him from a yard sale as a sort housewarming gift, an invitation to stay as long as he needed, and sits in the unbalanced chair across from him. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

Steve taps his fingers on the side of his mug, eyes trained on the paint stained and scratched surface of the table, “What do you want me to say? I freaked out at work, nothing new.”

Robin sighs shakily, and it makes Steve feel a pang of guilt in his chest. Despite her best efforts, he gets so defensive all the time anymore, the careless goof he was before Starcourt buried underneath all that was depressing him, and that he wouldn’t share with her. He was an awful friend, spending so much time with his past actions and losses, he’d forgotten how to live in the present.

“But there’s something you haven’t been telling me, Steve.” She bumps their knees together under the table to get him to look at her, “I’m not trying to be nosy or intrude, really, I just want to help you.”

“I don’t need help.” Steve raised his mug to his face, mumbling into it, “It’s supposed to get worse before it gets better, right?”

That same worried crease above her eyebrow appears, “Who told you that?”

He doesn’t answer, staring into the swirling mug before him. A sign for her that he still wasn’t ready to talk. She must decide that she would do most of the talking then, because she puts her mug down, takes a deep breath before saying, “Listen, you don’t have to tell me everything, I just want you to get better and I don’t think you should do it on your own. I haven’t, and I think it’s time I try to be there for you live you’ve been for me.”

There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve didn’t know what to say, the plastic clock Robin had taken from her grandmother’s kitchen ticking away the seconds, the minutes that passed before Steve swallows hard and looks up from the spot he’d been focusing on, trying and failing to find the right words again before he explains himself, “I just think.. I feel like everyone moved on way too fast.”

“From Starcourt?” What she meant didn’t need to be said. She didn’t need to specify the torture, the battle with an interdimensional monster, the fall out afterwards, for him to understand, but that wasn’t it, and he shakes his head no.

Confused, Robin clarifies, “Then from what?”

“All those people that day, Robs, they died and life is just supposed to go on like normal. We still have holidays and we got jobs again, but all those people, they-“ There are tears in his eyes so he cuts himself off, hoping that Robin got the point anyways.

From the look of clarity on her face, she does understand now where this is coming from. Steve had been struggling with survivor's guilt, Robin knew that because he insisted upon attending each and every funeral he could with his schedule at the hospital, and she’d reluctantly driven him to them without question, no matter how unhealthy it was for him.

He had even told her once, when he was drunk off his ass and knocking on her bedroom door in the early hours of the morning, that he didn’t think it was fair that he didn’t die, but all those other people did. She had never gotten an answer out of him when she asked why he thought he deserved to die, and he hoped she’d have forgotten it by now, but now he was cracking, and she was going to figure it out, so he keeps going.

“It’s just, how are we supposed to go back to normal when there’s so many people who can’t? They died, a-and they left behind their families and friends and partners.” He sniffles, tears starting to roll down his colorless face for the second time that day, “How can we act like nothing ever happened when it’s our fault?”

That makes Robin pause, her eyes going wide, “What?”

Steve freezes, hadn’t meant to say that, and he stays quiet until she asks him a second time, “How is it our fault, Steve?”

“Because we were so caught up with that stupid transmission that we missed our chance to help them. And for what? I was just trying to play the hero for Dustin, but I could’ve stopped it if I wasn’t so stupid.”

“What could you have stopped?” Asking so many questions made her sound like a pushy therapist, and it’s making Steve increasingly frustrated, answering harshly, “The-The shadow, Robin! The Mind-Flayer!”

“Okay, I’m sorry. But Steve, I really don’t think there’s much we could have done.”

Steve just shakes his head, insists, “If I hadn’t been so-so focused on doing something I thought was important, I could’ve done something that actually mattered before it was too late. I wasted so much time in the mall. But they needed me and I-I failed them. You feeling bad for me and telling me it’s not my fault doesn’t change that.”

“Steve, if we hadn’t been down there, nobody would’ve known about the gate, and the mind flayer wouldn’t be dead now.” Robin comforts, a deep frown on her tear tracked face, “There wasn’t anything anybody could’ve done.”

It’s not what Steve needs to hear.

“Stop saying that.. I could’ve saved him, and then none of this would’ve happened.” A sob wracks through his body as soon he finishes, the gut wrenching sound echoing through Robin's tiny apartment kitchen.

“Who?” Robin asks, reaching across the table and taking his shaking hand in her own, “Steve, who could you have saved?”

Through his tears he’s able to stutter out the answer, accented with a pointed sob, “Billy. I could’ve saved Billy..”

She doesn’t say anything in turn, occupied with putting the pieces together, though she’s still missing the larger context, instead pushing her chair back on the scratched kitchen tiles, pulling Steve up out of his own chair into the tightest hug she’d probably ever given anybody. They stand like that for a long time, Steve crying into Robin’s hair and her trying to comfort him through her confusion until his tears slow, or at least the hyperventilating is under control.

When eventually he does pull away from her, he wipes at his eyes and whispers, “Can I tell you something else? It’s about him.”

“Of course.” Robin answers quickly, something like relief, an unfamiliar look on her face anymore, written behind her eyes, making Steve yet again feel a twinge of guilt for hiding so much from his best friend.

He speaks quickly, struggling to get the right words together again, “You know how I said that the only time I was ever in love was with Nancy Wheeler?”

“Yeah?” Robin frowns, and Steve can see it in her face that she’s trying to work through it, what his love life has anything to do with his grief, but it’s a lot harder for him to admit than it is even for her to understand.

“I lied.” He chews on his lip, the faint and bitter taste of blood on his tongue, “And you know how when Dustin asked if we were together, I told him that you weren’t my type and we laughed about it because I’m definitely not yours either?”

“Steve I told you-“ Contemplation is replaced with fear, but he quickly cuts her off, “No, no, it’s not like that. I-I’m not done.”

Steve takes a deep breath, “You sort of are my type, but it was always someone else with-with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes and freckles all over that I was in love with.”

“I don’t understand. Who?”

Steve’s realizing he’s come full circle in this conversation, almost identical to the one they had on the bathroom floor over a year ago now when Robin can out to him, his tone and the distress in his features softening, “Robin.”

The pieces click into place, a whole range of emotion from shock to confusion to finally, sympathy, crossing Robin's face, “Oh, Steve. I’m so sorry. When did you…”

“Christmas Eve last year. Night of the snowball he apologized for being an asshole, and a few weeks later he kissed me.” Six months. The time that they’d had together was now as long as he was in the hospital, and since then how long Steve had been grieving him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She sounds almost hurt by it, the realization that her best friend didn’t come to her with this, especially when she of all people would be understanding. But Steve doesn’t have an answer to that, he doesn’t really know why.

All he does is shrug in response, tired of talking it out anyways, so with a forced sigh Robin tells him, “Well anyways, I’m glad you told me now. You shouldn’t have been doing this on your own for so long.”

Steve smiles weakly and lies, just as he’s been lying for so long, “It’s okay Robin. I’ve been getting better.”

But it doesn’t have the effect on Robin he wants, because she insists, for the first time not just letting him stew in his guilt and bottle everything up, “I don’t think drinking your life away and breaking down more often than ever really counts as doing better.”

Of course he tries to defend himself, anyone would against that, “Come on, Rob-“

But Robin cuts him off, “No, Steve. I’m serious. You need to get help.”

“I’m not going to a therapist.”

“Okay, but you still need to come to me with this stuff.” Steve looks away, and Robin’s tobw gets more desperate, “Steve, please. You can’t do this by yourself. I understand, I’m your best friend. I just want to be there for you.”

“I’ll.. think about it.” Is the last thing he says before he turns to leave, stopping short when he hears Robin sniffle, even on her worst days almost never seeing her cry, “Shit.. Robs.”

“No, no. I’m done talking about it Steve.” Robin shakes her head, her face flushes red as she fights back tears she doesn’t want him to see, biting her knuckles, “Just.. go ahead. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Numbly, he does. He turns and goes up the stairs to the used to be closet Robin turned into a room for him when he comes over.

~~~~

Billy doesn’t know how long he’s been in this hell.

His hair is getting longer, almost down his back now. It’s a matted mess that’ll never brush out even if someday he gets back to water that runs clear and his Gee conditioner he used to slip Susan a few bucks to buy for him, but he can’t bring himself to cut it.

He does shave though. Takes a knife to his face and does his best to use broken and grimy windows and mirrors for accuracy. It seems pointless, and for the most part it is, but his dad used to grow a beard in the winter, and the very last thing he wants is to look like him. Seeing him again would be one thing, but becoming him? That’s something Billy's willing to take a few knicks from a rusty old blade to avoid.

He used to keep track of the days, measured by the patterns in the storms constantly churning overhead, with a notch in the dying bark of a tree he passed between the convenience store and his house, the two places he’d been able to call his safe haven since he found himself trapped.

But then the dogs, as he’d come to call them now, changed. They used to circle the woods, patrol the other side of town, blocking his access to the downtown areas, like the hospital, the police station, Steve’s house. Then suddenly, they started closing in on his side, and from the many encounters he’s had from strays and crossing their invisible boundaries, he knew he couldn’t stay in that place.

So he’d lost his home, the ghost of his family that had been keeping him grounded, gone as he salvages anything he can, and leaves.

For a while, it feels like relief almost. The burden of how long he’d been here and how alone he was lifted, but he knows that’s just a way of comforting himself. He’s actually devastated.

He wants to be able to sleep on his back porch and he wants to be able to look at all the damaged family photos inside the overtaken house, no matter how fake the smiles and poses are, and he just wants to be home. Not that the building means much, home is the feeling, being with the people who he cares about and who care about him. He’s not sure he ever had the sense of what that really meant, but he’d take any dysfunctional upbringing over this.

The best he had for a while was Steve’s place.

Steve is never there, in the physical sense or in that freaky, spiritual, can be heard but not seen way. Inside the mansion is somehow pristinely kept, even in all of this wreckage that destroyed the rest of Hawkins. Mrs. Harrington would be proud of the intact decor and the spotless floors. Whatever those white particles were, which were slowly making it harder and harder for Billy to breath, were the only blemish, everything coated in at least an inch of the stuff.

Outside is another story entirely. The lawn is ripped up, the chairs and lawn ornaments are mangled or missing, and the pool is completely drained, in the place of water gangly vines and more sticky decomposition than he’d seen in even the most remote areas.

He remembers Barbara Holland. He remembers Steve saying she drowned accidentally in his pool when she got brought up. He remembers the fear in his eyes when they were out at night, the way those honey browns would scan the treeline for danger, on his worst days drawing the curtains and refusing to go out back for anything.

He starts to wonder, if maybe the vines mark the victims. His house, Steve’s pool, both completely overtaken. Heather’s house is only a street over from Steve’s, but he can’t will himself to go in there and see if his theory is correct. Same goes for the steelworks, or the community pool.

But, nice as it was, Steve’s house didn't last long as a refuge. He only stays there for a couple of weeks before he again has to grab what he can and abandon it, the dogs having followed him and cut another chunk out of his territory. There was a pack of them wandering the yard, a couple breaking off to charge at the back doors, and Billy has to decide between holing himself up in that hideously wallpapered room that had come to be another definition of home, and running for his damn life.

He chose the latter, scaling the shed roof from the upstairs bathroom window just as the monsters break the glass double doors. Down the rattling drain pipes he prayed would hold his weight, and into the shed to regroup. He’d gotten out with almost nothing of Steve’s, not that polo shirts and nike shoes were great for apocalyptic survival gear, but he wished he could’ve nabbed anything more, a picture, a coat, a bag, at least something he could use.

All he made out with though was a red bandana, which, if he ever gets out of this hell, he has to ask Steve about that, no way his reformed prep was freaky enough to walk around Hawkins advertising his preference for taking it elbow deep, an empty notebook, a pair of scissors as a just in case weapon, and an old banged up Bic which was out of fluid anyways.

The bandanas alright, paisleys not his pattern of choice and he’s more of a navy blue and grey guy than red, but it’d do well enough to keep that nasty shit in the air out of his lungs. Everything else he grabbed is basically useless to him though, so he scours the shed instead, sneaking in through the back door with a sharp eye on where the dogs broke into Steve’s.

In there he gets a little better of a haul, most of it still just junk he can repurpose for tending injuries, but on the back wall, held up by a barely standing shelf, is the golden find, a machete the length of his arm. Brand new and sharpened, a little worn from the rot but clearly never used, the Harrington’s had a gardener to trim back the branches, and everything in here was just for show so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t feel emasculated by not doing any work but answering phone calls and yelling at underpaid workers anyways, so Billy grabs it, finally having more than an old mower blade and a collection of knives from decorative to army to kitchen, most of which were all too small and almost got his arm torn off.

It’s that machine he’d stumbled upon that bittersweet day that he carries now, dripping with the oozing blood of one of the dogs, slightly bent now because another got it between its teeth and more dull from cutting through rubbery skin. The damn thing has saved his life though, many times over as the territories shift again in quick, unpredictable cycles, this last time ending with him cornered in the hospital's courtyard.

He was over there raiding for bandaging and medicine, anything that might help in the long run, but of course, it would have to come in handy just a little sooner, silly Billy for thinking about the future, because the monsters find him.

Thankfully, none of them actually get him, though one is particularly disgusting, it’s head, for lack of a more delicate way to put it, basically explodes when he stabs through it, another damn pair of his jeans getting ruined by the sticky, reddish spatter. The only worry he has time for before he has to kill, or scare off in most cases, the rest of the dogs that step forward, is the damned stain.

There aren’t too many, and those whose brains aren’t dripping off of his weapon, or as annoying as it is, his clothes, run off quickly, leaving Billy himself to move on.

First Cherry Lane, then Steve’s, and now the hospital. Guess it’s time to fucking leave again.

Hawkins is deceptively big for a country bumpkins paradise. The town and its shops and the surrounding neighborhoods only make up some half of the city, even he used to live on the edges of the civilized part, the rest of town stretching on for miles and miles of rural farmland, a couple of houses here and there the deeper you get into the country.

He’d never been over that way except maybe once when Max flipped the map upside down and they got lost on the way to Cherry for the first. That wasn’t much help now, but he was otherwise out of options. It was getting lost in the woods trying to find the more hidden houses, or it was being dinner for the dogs, which he could still hear chittering somewhere nearby, regrouping for the next attack probably.

The decision isn’t hard for Billy. He grabs whatever he’s salvaged and just bolts, bandana mask around his neck, machete in the bag on his back so he doesn’t cut himself up and make all this surviving for nothing, just getting the hell out of there before they decide they want to fight him again.

Because frankly, after as long as it’s been, his energy is getting low. He doesn’t know what he’s surviving for anymore, let alone if he’s going to be able to for much longer. His lung capacity is getting lower by the day, he’s got old wounds that won’t heal. The dogs probably aren’t too far from finishing him off if he gets attacked too many more times, so he’s just not chancing it.

Billy runs and he runs, coughing up a little blood in the process, until he ends up in a neighborhood he’s never seen before. Right now, that’s good news, so he slows his pace and takes his machete back out, just in case he let his guard down too soon.

Over here it’s a little brighter, a little less destroyed maybe, but still not right. Houses still slump and there are still pulsing vines all over, the roads still dusted with toxins. But there are a lot of houses, and that’s usually good news for avoiding the monsters.

As nice an area as it is, there's still something bigger drawing Billy to this area. Immediately he thinks back to the cemetery, how he’d felt and heard Steve that day, an event he’d come to think, after so long without a repeat feeling, had been only in his head, and he panics, for just a moment.

He knows he can’t let him slip by this time. Closing his eyes, he tries to pinpoint the feeling in his chest, like an arrow that can guide him in the direction of this, a compass pointing straight to his love.

Trusting that this feeling isn’t a warning, and he’s not about to walk into a nest, he follows it, slowly at first but with more fervor when he hears two echoing voices at the same time his chest clenches. He recognizes one as a vague face in his memory, Steve’s best friend, the one Heather never had the guts to tell about the crush she had on her, Robin maybe was her name. The other voice, well, the other voice is Steve’s.

They’re coming from a rotten duplex with no doors or windows. It looks a lot like a marked house, and he wonders if Robin knows she got a discount because the owner of the house was dead, melted into a monster that has tried to kill her along with the rest.

Approaching the house, he doesn’t know what to expect, if maybe they’ll be inside, or if this is just some delusion from a lack of oxygen to his brain. It doesn’t really matter. He steps up, careful to avoid rickety spots in he steps, and goes inside.

First, he leans his machete against the mushroom wall. There’s two reasons he never brings the weapons all the way in, first being that any mess he made in the house always had to be cleaned up by his step mother, so outside of the deepest throws of teenage rebellion, he always did what he could to minimize dirt in he house, and that included bringing a machete dripping with brains inside, even if there wasn't anyone around to see it, it was a habit built by thankful glances and praise, albeit somewhat backhanded, from his parents, so it was one he continued to honor.

Second, he harbors a deep respect for the houses he’s stayed in, despite the lack of doors on this one, each and every home he’s entered, no matter if it was for five minutes to steal some food or upwards of weeks where he slept there, these buildings were his shelter, and he feels the need to respect them, so, weapons stay at the front door. So far, the dogs haven’t followed him inside.

Looking around, he can tell Steve isn’t here either. The house is definitely abandoned just like the rest, and his heart sinks just a little, until he hears it again. A vague whisper that’s just barely audible to his ear.

He knows he’s in the right place. Every inch of him aches for Steve, but he can’t see him. He tries again to call out for him, an echo of the cemetery, “Steve? Can you hear me?”

No response comes.

“I don’t understand, why can’t you hear me?”

Things have gone silent on the other side, and Billy feels hopeless. A bout of frustration turns him around, the urge to forget about his stupid rules and just tear this house apart until he finds his Steve, curbed by seeing the wall phone.

He’s not stupid. He’s been over here long enough to realize he’s not in Hawkins, not the real one anyhow, that they, Steve and his family and everyone else are instead. The how and the why are another story entirely, but he has the basic understanding that he is alone, and they are parallel to him. Coexisting in different planes.

And if that is the case and he’s not on the worst trip of his life or just completely off his rocker, him and the dogs he kills an Agave and Pentheus type situation, then he can contact the other plane, say, by telephone even.

Luckily for him, Robin is forgetful, and there’s a list of numbers taped to the wall by the phone, only slightly worn with black gooey rot. He picks up the phone and listens to the emptiness, no dial tone in his ear. His hands are shaky as he slowly, hesitantly punches in the numbers, the three and the eight buttons getting monster blood on them from his fingers.

He raises the phone to his ear, the sound of his own ragged breathing echoing back in his ear as he waits for someone to answer, the line ringing, and ringing, and ringing.

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #billy x steve #steve harrington #billy hargrove #robin buckley #tw blood #ej writer #story by ej!#more tags on ao3

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jetsetreid · 4 years

Text

ignore me like we never met before - spencer reid x reader - chapter 1/?

Summary: Spencer Reid annoys you. Enemies to lovers with a side of BDSM (to follow -- no sex in this chapter, sorry!)

A/N: New to CM fandom, hiiii. With the s7 cast (the elite) but set post-Maeve storyline. Title from Ignore me by Betty Who.

Word Count: 2.5k

Spencer Reid was annoying. And not just in the normal ways you might find someone annoying. Spencer was annoying in an extraordinary way, that only someone with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory could be. The most annoying part was that he never really met your quips or participated in your banter.

It made you look like an asshole, which was completely unfair of him. Because you knew Spencer returned your feelings. You annoyed him as well. He avoided you constantly and when he did speak to you, he made sure it was case related. You didn’t sit next to each other on the jet, or at team outings. Hotch almost never paired you together. You recognized, in the back of your head, that you should be thankful for this, but you just found it to be another thing about him that annoyed you.

Despite your lack of time spent together, you couldn’t help yourself. When an opportunity presented itself, you just had to push back. It didn’t matter though, because he never said anything back. He always let you insult him and looked away without a reaction.

Your favorite pastime. Team drinks. And you were stuck sitting next to JJ and across from Spencer, with everyone else further down the double-sided booth. Spencer and JJ had been chatting all night about her kids and a film festival Spencer went to every year and had recently joined the board of organizers. If it wasn’t for the fact that Spencer was involved, the film festival might have actually sounded interesting.

Instead, it was mind numbingly boring. You tried to focus your attention on Morgan and Penelope down the booth, but they were too caught up in each other to notice your desperate attempts to strike up a conversation.

Emily showing up to team drinks was a godsend

“Emily, thank god,” you shrieked. “Sit next to me!”

Emily slid into the booth next to you and quickly ordered a drink before the two of you fell into a conversation. You were discussing Emily’s new girlfriend and how tangled up in each other they’ve been. You’ve missed her lately. This was the first time she’d actually shown up to team drinks in months.

“You know, I like Eleanor and I’m happy for you, but falling in love is gross.” You said it with no bite and a smile on your face. You were teasing her.

“Actually,” Spencer cut in, “Falling in love has a similar neurological effect as getting high on cocaine.”

You rolled your eyes so hard they almost fell out. What did boy wonder know about falling in love? And why was he involving himself in a conversation that had nothing to do with him? Spencer and JJ had been ignoring you all night. Okay, maybe JJ tried to include you in their conversation, but still.

“Another fact you read, but don’t know in practice, right?” you asked, eyeing him with spite. You were fairly new to the team, almost a year in, but you just knew there was no way Spencer Reid had been in love before.

Emily tensed up beside you and JJ fell silent as well. You figured Spencer would ignore your comment, like ways. He never ever rose to your insults.

“What about you, we all know you’ve been high on cocaine. So even though you’ve never found anyone to love you, it’s almost the same thing.”

JJ choked out a laugh. Emily smirked without meeting your eyes. All you could do was glare.

The team knew about your party days in college, although you’d never outright said you’d done cocaine. The reality is that you had and quite a bit too. Your first couple of years in college were a blur of a party until you calmed down your junior year and took academics seriously.

But Spencer never challenged you, so what made this so different? Maybe you hit a nerve. Everyone knew he was lacking in the relationship department.

“I’ve found plenty of people to love me,” you said with a smirk.

“For the night,” Spencer added, with a bite.

You should’ve been annoyed or angry, you should’ve told him to shut up, but you didn’t. Because seeing him take the bait after almost a year of digs made something in your stomach flutter. You were finally getting to him.

“Yeah, wouldn’t you like to know?”

Spencer meet you with hard, scowling eyes. Emily and JJ followed your back and forth like a tennis match.

“What’s that saying? If you caught fire, I wouldn’t piss to put you out.”

“Jesus, Spence,” JJ muttered.

“Those are Fall Out Boy lyrics,” you responded with a glare. He was such a dick.

Spencer shrugged. “Sentiment stands.”

You dropped it after that. You hated to give him the win, but another round of drinks appeared, and Emily quickly changed the subject.

Spencer didn’t stop after that. It was becoming a problem. Mostly because Hotch could shrug off your mouth before. Most of the team thought you were just teasing, and because Spencer never reacted, they all saw it as harmless.

But he was reacting now and the two of you were trading insults like siblings. You were being childish, but so was he so you didn’t stop. At first, it was almost fun. But Spencer was too quick, too smart. He didn’t even have to try.

Another case, another jet ride.

“Maybe the unsub has something on these victims. With this amount of overkill…” you trailed off, eyeing the photos in front of you on your tablet.

“Actually,” Spencer started. This was the fifth time he’d interrupted you (yes, you were counting) and you’d only been on the jet for 30 minutes.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, snapping your finger in front of his face. “Does anyone get to give an opinion on anything without you actually’ing them?”

He swatted your hand away. “That’s not a word,” Spencer sighed. “Maybe I always have to interject because like your vocabulary, your opinions resemble that of a 3rd grader.”

“Focus,” Hotch commanded. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he was absolutely done with both of you so you dropped it and you kept the rest of your opinions to yourself. The worst part of Spencer finally participating in your insult war was that he was always winning. He was smarter than you and he wasn’t afraid to let you know it.

It didn’t bother you at first, but after weeks of him always getting the upper hand, it started to. You felt stupid and you started to question your spot on the team. You absolutely hated that you let him get into your head like this.

The case wrapped up later that week. Unsub caught. Another jet ride home.

You gathered your things from the bullpen when Hotch appeared, singling for you and Spencer.

“I need to see you both in my office.”

Derek winced and Emily patted you on the back. “Try not to murder each other in there.”

“Yeah, good fuckin’ luck,” Derek added with a laugh as they both headed to the elevators.

You ignored them and started walking up the stairs, quickly followed by Spencer. You both took a seat with your eyes glued to Hotch. You knew what was coming.

“Y/L/N, Reid,” Hotch started. “I’m not happy to be having this conversation. Your behavior has been juvenile and unproductive.”

You twisted your hands in your lap. This felt like getting reprimanded by a parent and you did not like it. Your stomach twisted with guilt.

“I don’t care about whatever rivalry the two of you have going on and I certainly don’t need you to be best of friends, but your behavior is affecting the team. And I need it to end.”

You nodded, refusing to look anywhere near Spencer.

“I understand, sir,” you breathed, voice low. “Consider it ended.”

Spencer nodded, “I apologize. It won’t be a problem anymore.” You saw him looking your way out of the corner of your eye, but you refused to take your eyes off Hotch. You felt terrible, having disappointed your boss.

You both exited his office with a quiet sigh. Your heart felt heavy.

You wouldn’t admit it, but you were secretly glad Hotch put an end to things. You knew you had started all of this, but Spencer’s words were like a poison. They were all you could think about some nights, tossing and turning. Were you really that stupid? Like a 3rd grader? Did everyone see it? You often wondered how you even landed this job after the things Spencer said about you.

Hotch’s door clicked shut behind you as the both of you walked to your desks. You could tell Spencer was just as upset as you and you wanted to comfort him somehow, but you quickly pushed down the foreign and unwelcome thought.

Spencer lifted his bag over his shoulder, eyeing you finally. “Just stay out of my way from now on, Y/L/N.”

You really wanted to fight back, but instead you felt tears prick at your eyes. How fucking annoying. You absolutely refused to cry in front of Spencer Reid, but you knew he could tell how emotional you were. He was a profiler after all, and you weren’t even trying to hide it.

“Just stop, Reid,” you whispered, grabbing your purse and exiting the bullpen. You didn’t wait for him at the elevator. In front, you hit the “close doors” button rapidly until they slid shut, leaving you alone.

Weeks passed. You were quietly miserable. Spencer ignored you. Hotch watched the two of you constantly. Everyone else did as well, and it was suffocating. You barely spoke up anymore, always having to be prompted by Hotch, or sometimes Derek and Emily. Even JJ and Rossi. Anyone but Spencer. He didn’t care what you had to say and he didn’t even bother pretending like he did.

You knew you were acting unreasonable, but you still felt scolded by Hotch and now isolated by the rest of the team. Realistically, you knew that wasn’t the case, but Spencer had known them all for a decade and sometimes it felt like they all took his side. It hurt your feelings, as irritating as that was to admit.

Things boiled over in Phoenix. An unsub that the team hadn’t exactly profiled right. A mistake you made, dropping your gun and moving close. You thought you could talk him down. You were very, very wrong.

It happened so fast. The unsub grabbing you, bringing you to his front, your back firmly against his front. He wrapped his arm around your neck, applying pressure.

He was using you as a human shield. His other hand rose and you felt the cool metal of the unsub’s gun against your temple. You couldn’t speak. Why couldn’t you speak? You were trained for this, but right now you felt helpless. Derek and Spencer stood in front of you, trying to talk him down, but you couldn’t make out their words. You could tell they were panicked, and you knew this wasn’t going to end well.

The unsub – Randall Gaines – tightened his arm around your neck, cutting off your oxygen just a bit more. You felt a tear slide down your cheek. You were going to die in a shitty motel in Phoenix, Arizona. Right in front of Reid and Morgan. Bullet through the skull. They were going to walk out of here with your blood splattered all over them, but you weren’t walking out of this room at all.

You felt your grip on reality slip as his chokehold tightened, your eyes slipping shut. Darkness.

You woke to Derek crouched in front of you, breathing a sigh of relief. You were still alive. You were still in the shitty motel room.

The unsub was dead next to you, both of you on the ground. You’d passed out, but only for a couple of seconds. You were fine.

Derek helped you up, snaking an arm around you for support. He loaded you into the backseat of the SUV while you waited for backup.

The ambulance came and checked you out, the coroner carried away the unsub’s body and the three of you left. No one spoke, least of all you.

The jet ride home was not pleasant. You avoided everyone’s concerned eyes by taking a seat in the back and putting your headphones in. You didn’t even listen to anything, but it guaranteed that everyone left you alone.

When you got back to Virginia, Hotch grabbed your shoulder, leading your away from the team out into the hallway. “Take a few days, okay, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Okay.” Your voice was barely there, a rough whisper at best. The paramedic had warned you of this. Loss of voice, coughing, trouble swallowing. Red eyes, headaches, bruising. Even nausea. Although you weren’t sure if that was from the injuries or the situation in general.

Hotch eyed you, sighing. “I want you to know you are a valued member of this team. See you next week.”

You nodded again before rushing to the elevators. Which would have been great, had it not been for one Penelope Garcia.

She saw you and scurried over, pulling you into an embrace. “Y/N,” she breathed. “I am so happy you’re okay.”

Maybe it was because it was Penelope, or maybe it was just because of the day you had, but you hugged her back, clinging. She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Movies and takeout?”

You found yourself nodding without realizing it. You had missed this. The past couple of weeks you had been so closed off, so worried about your place on this team. But now you were too tired and too distressed to worry. You followed Penelope out of the building.

Derek showed up with a 12 pack of White Claw and a bottle of white wine.

“Your favorites,” he grinned.

Emily and JJ followed with Chinese takeout. The five of you spread out on Penelope’s couch and the floor in front of it. You smiled despite the burning in your throat, the hoarseness of your voice and the bruising you were sure was developing around your throat.

You smiled and cracked open a White Claw, attention on the latest episode of Saturday Night Live. You missed your friends.

Until the door quietly opened and Spencer Reid appeared. He looked uncomfortable. He brushed his his hair behind his ear and sat down on the floor with his legs crossed next to Derek.

“I brought DVDs,” he said, holding up a handful of them.

“Thanks,” you whispered. You didn’t mean to say anything, but you didn’t take it back. You even offered him a small smile.

“Pretty boy, it’s all about streaming these days,” Morgan rolled his eyes, “but it’s the thought that counts.” And then he ruffled Spencer’s hair. You smiled again.

Even with Spencer Reid in the mix, you were happy.

#criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #mine

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