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#and once again find myself nervous about how this post will be received. because god forbid i have an original thought on the internet
nocaptainonthisship · 5 months
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I understand the point of your post but it hurts alot when your fics don't get the kind of kudos or comments other writers fics do.
I completely hear you on this, nonny.
Not comparing myself to other writers is something I am trying to get better at every single day. Its hard! You start to wonder if people aren't reading because there is something wrong with you, or with the way you write. I have to say, I don't think that's true at all.
I think a lot about that old biblical phrase, "there is nothing new under the sun." I think, too, about "there are no new stories, only new writers." Partly, its because I write fanfiction. Partly its because I'm repeatedly drawn to adaptations of older works. Partly its because my number one response to watching marvel movies was usually saying "Cool story, bro, but what if it was about a woman??" and then, a couple years later saying, "Ok, but maybe not like That."
But I get to think about the other implications of that, too. No story I ever tell will be completely 100% from my own imagination. I am the sum total of all my parts. Every book I read and every movie or tv show or play I've seen lives inside me, the parts that most interested me broken down and distilled and recombined to be something that feels entirely my own.
What makes my writing special is ME.
I wrote my first piece of fanfic when I was 12. It was a songfic(Evanescence's Bring Me Back to Life, just in case you were worried I wasn't a baby emo) and it was angsty as all hell(some things never change I guess.) A few people read it. A few even dropped nice little notes about it. I can't tell you if it was actually any good, because that forum has been dead for a long time, and the desktop at my parents house has been replaced in the almost 20 years since. I suspect it was fairly terrible, though. I mean, I was 12.
I wrote a little more as I got into high school, before I started telling myself to grow out of fanfic(don't worry, I also grew out of that.) But I kept writing, mostly just for me. I kept getting better. I kept becoming more and more confident in my own voice and what it is I can bring to the table.
Which, I guess, brings me at long last to my point. I'm not some superwriter who doesn't get a burst of joy when someone leaves a comment on one of my fics. I LOVE connecting with people and knowing that my words touched someone's life in a positive way. But I don't need it. I'm going to write for myself(and the 6 psychos in my dms.) I'm going to write things I can be proud of, things I can stand back and say, "I did that!" I don't need to be the most popular, I simply need to be the best version of myself.
There is always going to be someone out there who is more popular than me.
But there is never going to be another me.
There is never going to be another YOU.
Be the best you that you can be. Tell the stories that you want to tell, not the ones you think will get the most engagement.
What you bring to the table is important, no matter how many people comment.
Keep writing, keep being you. You will find your people, I promise. I didn't find the 6 psychos until my 30s. There was a time I thought no one at all would ever like my words. As much as I enjoy being right, I'm so glad to have been proved wrong on this one.
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lady-z-writes · 10 months
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Part 2 of this post (also found on ao3)
Hopper x reader
Warning: explicit.
Snippet:
“You aren’t naked on my desk in thirty seconds, I get myself off,” the tone is warning, quiet, and the look on his face is hungry.
The music sounds in the other room, but you can hear Hopper counting down as he watches you get undressed.
Completely bare for him in twenty seconds, you gasp at the cool desk against your ass. Hopper has undone his jeans and is palming himself over the material. If he makes you wait, you’re gonna leave a wet spot on the desk.
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It’s not like you missed him or anything, you just get flirty with a few drinks in you and no one at this bar strikes your fancy.
You have his number memorized. Of course you do. Though, you’ve only called twice. Once for pretty decent phone sex…the memory makes you inhale sharply.
Tipsy calling someone from a payphone…who the Hell are you?
You’d made the choice to stay in town over the summer; claimed it was that you missed old friends. Really, you’d been spending lots of time pining over one Chief of Police.
“Yeah?” a gruff voice answers.
“Hey, hot stuff.”
A deep chuckle greets your ears.
“Y/n?”
“Mhm!”
“Ah, Jesus…” if the bar was quieter you’d hear him undoing his belt.
“Come pick me up.”
“Oh, is that a demand? Because you and I both know how this is gonna go if it is…”
You roll your eyes, step closer to the wall, and drop your voice quieter.
“I want you, Jim Hopper.”
There’s a loud cheer in the bar, patrons watching some type of sports game.
A hum, “Sounds like you’re kinda busy. I’ll talk to you…”
“You ass,” you hiss. “Please, big guy?”
He laughs again. “Ok, so lemme guess: you went out for a drink or two, thought maybe you’d find someone to fill the space and there’s no one that knows what you want. Not like I do.”
His voice and the alcohol…you want to play with yourself, but you’re in public standing in this hallway by the bathrooms.
“Yes,” you exhale.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
You can imagine he’s stroking his cock to this and you let out a little whine, though you’re sure he can’t hear you over the kerfuffle in the bar.
“Jim, I’m…” you nod and smile as a woman walks by. Quieter, you say, “-I’m in public.”
He breathes heavy. “And…? Come on, baby girl, be forward.” He uses your words against you and you feel yourself heating up in an almost-embarrassed, almost-angry way.
“Jim,” you try to be stern but his silence meets you and you know if you want your way, you’re gonna have to give a little. “I want your mouth.”
“Ohhh,” he seems to appreciate your effort. “Where?” you can hear the smile in his voice.
“My thighs,” you’re practically up against the wall talking into the receiver.
“Nah, where do you really want it?”
You give. You have to. He’ll insist on it, “My pussy.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’d love to eat you out right now.”
“Then come do it,” you blurt out.
He gives it a few frustrating seconds, “Where are you right now?”
“Andy’s.”
“Be ready.”
You’re so relieved and then you’re anxious. You’re a rush of nervous energy as you hang up, pay your tab at the bar, and walk out to the patio to wait for your ride.
Twenty minutes. It takes him twenty excruciating minutes to show up. As soon as he’s parking, you stand up to meet him but his door slam surprises you.
He’s exhaling cigarette smoke as he strides over to you. Those damn jeans and a fucking blue flannel…God, you’re melting as his height once again overwhelms you. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he walks right by, opens the door to the bar.
“You coming or not?”
Your mouth is dropped open.
“Apparently not,” you grumble an innuendo, storming back into the bar.
Hopper barks out a laugh at your retort, taps you on the ass when you walk in.
You’re at the bar. Again. Sitting there next to Jim, feeling that tension that existed the minute you ran into each other at Aunt Karen’s party.
Apparently, he’s old friends with the bartender here. Well, hard to not be when Hawkins is pretty small. And no one gets out of this town.
You’re nursing another drink when you feel his fingers dance across your thigh. His large hand grabs you and you inhale sharply, almost choking on the mouthful of alcohol.
When he slips his fingers between your thighs, you grip his hand; reflex. But you don’t want him to stop, not really. You want him to take it somewhere else though.
“Mr. Ryland’s social studies class? Woo, think we were smoking under the bleachers more than we were in class.”
They continue their conversation and it’s all fine and dandy but you’re way too distracted to focus on anything but being silent and inconspicuous. One sound and he’ll stop, you know that.
Under the bar, his fingers flick against your clit and you’re almost gasping but covering it with a fake cough.
You shoot him a look but he’s pretending to be so engrossed in conversation. You know he sees you. You know you’re his main focus and he’s watching you from the corner of his eye. It’s new to you to have someone so confident and playful but gruff and stern.
His fingers play along the seam of your jeans; teasing you and not putting pressure on your clit anymore.
It goes on like this for five minutes; him building you up just to barely tease you or rest his hand motionless on your thigh. You want so badly for him to put continuous pressure, ease how riled he’s gotten you, but you’re sure people are noticing his hand under the bar – sure it’s pretty obvious what’s going on.
“Finish your drink,” he instructs roughly when the bartender finally leaves to go serve someone else.
You have never guzzled down a drink so fast in your life.
By the time you make it to the parking lot, you’re lightheaded and giddy. Fingers pulling at his shirt, you urge him toward you, grab him by the back of the neck to dip him down to kiss you against the brick building.
He lets out a low growl, “Here?” he shames you. “Christ, woman…”
You whine, “Fine, okay, just make me cum…”
The parking lot’s in the back of the bar, not on the main road and at this hour not many people are stumbling in.
Hopper lowers his eyes to your mouth then blinks back up to meet your gaze. He inhales slowly before letting out a growl.
His grip fumbles for the button of your jeans. You’re breathless when he ghosts a touch over you, dips his middle finger inside your pussy.
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby girl…”
His fingers feel fantastic – the size difference between his digits and yours makes all the difference and your muscles are tensing around him.
It’s not enough. You want his cock.
But for now, you’re gonna have to handle that desire.
“God, Chief…”
This floors him and soon he’s pumping his finger into you with such pressure and speed that you can’t help but reach your orgasm in mere moments. After all that teasing…and now you’re out here in the dark parking lot where anyone could see, getting finger fucked by the Chief of Police. You don’t stop the moan that escapes you when he makes you cum.
“So fuckin’ loud,” he chuckles, kissing your temple before slipping his hand from you and allowing you to button up.
You’re breathless when he pulls away from you. Someone’s in their car, watching you, and when they meet eyes, you feel a tinge of embarrassment…and then pride.
Following him, you rush forward, grip his arm and pull your body closer.
You watch him lick his finger clean of you as he meanders to his Blazer, not caring about the audience.
“Let’s get you home,” his deep voice rumbles when you’re once again on the passenger’s side, reminded of your first night with him.
“What?”
“Hm? Not enough for you?” he teases – you know he’s teasing – but you worry that he’ll leaving you wanting.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that pants tent you’re sporting.”
“Pretty bold of you, considering I’m driving you home…”
“As if road head wasn’t a thing.”
You watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows hard.
“Ooh, you’re too much,” he grips you by the hair and pulls you into him again, lets you slide into his lap – squeeze yourself between his belly and the steering wheel as he lays the seat back – and he grinds his hard cock against your clothed pussy.
“Here?” you repeat his words from minutes ago.
“No,” he grumbles. “Bad idea. Whole fuckin’ town’ll be talkin’.”
“Let ‘em talk.”
You wish you’d worn a dress. Maybe he would’ve let you fuck him in the Blazer. Instead, he lets things get heated between the two of you, lets himself get good and worked up, and stops before he reaches his breaking point.
Before you know it, you’re upright on the passenger’s side again, trying to focus your attention on anything but his still-hard dick…the dot of precum that you can see when the streetlights hit the passing vehicle just right.
“Can’t go home. El’s having a sleepover,” he finally breaks the silence.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You’d let him take you anywhere at this point. The whole stopping and starting thing has made you desperate for him.
“Wherever you want, Chief.”
And it hits him. He puts the pedal to the floor.
The station.
Chills run down your spine when he pulls up to the fucking police station. You’re buzzing.
“Callahan’s probably on shift, but ignore him. We’ll go to my office.”
“Why’d we park in back…?”
You don’t think you can do this. What’s the excuse gonna be? How are you just going to walk into the station at one in the morning with the Chief who isn’t even in uniform?
And then your mind is drifting…fuck, if he were in uniform…
“You comin’ or what?” he calls to you, holding the door open.
You’re feeling slightly tipsy, face heated as you step through the door. The first thing you notice is the loud music. You imagine they do this to keep themselves awake for late night shifts at the station.
“Hey, Chief, what’s…uh…what’s goin’ on?” Callahan walks from the lobby toward a room with desks, sipping coffee.
“Forgot my wallet here,” Hopper thumbs toward his office, doesn’t acknowledge who you are which leaves Callahan surprised.
You can feel his eyes on you, but as you wait for Hopper to unlock his office, you see Callahan visibly shrug and return to the other room where the music is playing.
“You don’t pull this off with me, you don’t get any privileges tonight,” he huffs against your ear. “Follow my lead.” As you’re nodding, he leaves his office open, pauses in the hallway with you, then makes a point of walking toward the exit, pulling you along. “See ya,” he waves toward the room Callahan’s in.
“Bye, Hopper,” comes a voice over the music as Hopper opens then shuts the front door.
You two press against the corner, out of eyeshot, still inside the building. Now you know why he parked in the back…
A few moments go by before Hopper barely peeks in on Callahan to see if he’s still looking. And then you’re urged to sneak back toward the office.
You’re breathless by the time you make it back, Hopper quietly shutting and locking the door behind you.
The excitement of once again sneaking around is overwhelming and you find yourself so humored by the situation, clinging to his shirt once more, enjoying the proximity of him.
“You aren’t naked on my desk in thirty seconds, I get myself off,” the tone is warning, quiet, and the look on his face is hungry.
The music sounds in the other room but you can hear Hopper counting down as he watches you get undressed.
Completely bare for him in twenty seconds, you gasp at the cool desk against your ass. Hopper has undone his jeans and is palming himself over the material. If he makes you wait, you’re gonna leave a wet spot on the desk.
Tantalizingly slow, he approaches the desk, shoves some papers into another stack, then puts his hands on either side of you.
“Lean back,” he instructs.
Your naked back presses to the cold surface beneath you as he gets on his knees before the desk, pulls your legs over his shoulders, and starts kissing up your thighs. He remembers what you told him you wanted, is eager to please.
The feeling of his facial hair is like nothing else you’ve experienced. Back arching off the desk, you can’t help but cry out when his mouth meets your core.
He chuckles. “Didn’t think I’d forget, did you, duchess?”
You shake your head but you know he isn’t looking because he’s eating you out like a starving man; tongue sloppy and – judging by the moans he’s releasing – he’s enjoying.
“Fuck, so good, Jim.”
“Chief,” he corrects you.
You swallow, nod, “Sorry, Chief.”
“Mmm, better,” he goes right back to it, doesn’t use his fingers though like he knows you want. “Gotta be honest, baby girl,” he breaks away to pepper kisses on your thighs. “M’not gonna be able to wait much longer.”
“Then fuck me.”
Eyes meeting yours as you lean up on your elbows, you see his dark pupils.
It’s all a blur how quickly he shifts positions, but you watch him slide down into his chair, motion you over before pulling his cock out.
“Ride my cock, honey.”
You climb into his lap, easily slide down on his cock, throw your head back when he fills you completely. The moan that leaves you feels like an out-of-body experience and you almost forget where you are.
He chuckles again, kissing your neck, “Quiet…” he reminds you.
You’re sure you hear the music turn down in the other room, but you can’t care about that now. The slightest inclination that you give a fuck about being caught and you know he’ll use it against you; know that he’ll make this stop.
You’d rather the whole town watch you than have him pull away from you at this moment.
Feeling so full of him is extremely pleasurable. He’s girthy and he knows just how to fuck you.
His thumb is pressing against your clit as you ride him – the pressure of his hand against you just adds to the stimulation. He wants you to break, wants to see you sweat because he knows you’re loud; from the phone sex and the first night you met…you’ve proven that.
“Ungh, kept thinking about this,” he admits while he kisses your tits. “Right here, in this chair. Beating off at work…” he huffs a laugh and then, “what the fuck did you do to me?”
Pride swells in your chest as you bounce on his cock.
“Fuck, I’ve been so wet for you, Chief, since we met.”
“Oh, yeah?” he hums. “You think about me?”
“Nothing satisfies me like you do,” you admit. “My fingers, my toys…” his eyes shoot open at that and you can almost see his thought process. “Nothing makes me cum like you do.”
You feel his thrusts up into you deepen, feel his cock twitch inside of you. He loves what he’s hearing.
“Fuck, fuck, hang on…” he gasps, gripping your hips. “Y/n, hang on.” You don’t stop. He’s digging his fingers in harshly again, just when the bruises from last time healed. “Y/n,” it’s a warning. You know it is, but the power you’re feeling knowing that he’s damn near orgasm this soon?
“Chief, I need you to cum.”
He shivers, panting. “Uh, uh. No. Not until…”
“I will,” you interrupt, nodding furiously, voice breathy. “Can’t you feel how close I am? How tightly I’m squeezing your cock?”
He gasps, hips stuttering as he’s trying to stop himself but he can’t help his movements; clearly way passed the point of no return.
“I want you to fill me again,” you admit. “Only you. I’ve only let you…-”
And that’s all it takes – Jim is groaning as he urgently thrusts up into you, growling when he feels your orgasm pulsing around his.
A low whine leaves your lips at the overwhelming feel of all this; his warmth filling you, your own orgasm tipping once he’s growling your name.
You don’t even realize how loud you’re both being until the music turns down significantly in the other room.
And then it’s like you’re too pleased to care if Callahan heard you, too fucked to worry about getting caught.
Surely, Hopper will punish you later for not controlling yourself, but that’s a thought for another day.
Right now, you feel your heartbeat throughout your whole body, can hear Hopper still gasping in the afterglow. You nuzzle against his chest, noting that he’s still mostly clothed. You want him completely naked for you; are satisfied but so not.
“Next time needs to be in a bed,” you groan as you shift your sore knees, lift yourself off of him.
A bit of his cum drips down your thighs and you swipe it off, dip your finger in your mouth as your other hand reaches for a tissue.
Hopper watches with his lips slightly parted, looking completely engrossed and satisfied.
“Oh, you’re so sure there’ll be a next time?” he teases, voice sounding slightly groggy, eyelids heavy as he blinks up at you.
You nod. “I think I’ve done a lot of the chasing though,” you shrug, tossing the tissue. “Think you need to put in some work for me, sir.”
The title clearly affects him as you see him take a sharp breath.
“Is this a challenge?”
You don’t know how long you’ll last without wanting more of him, don’t know how difficult it’ll be to not call him when you’re tipsy and wanting him to put his mouth on you…but you’re sure going to try to hold back.
Jim Hopper has yet to realize what he’s gotten himself into.
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alsjeblieft-zeg · 1 year
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167 of 2023
More random secrets from random people! [True or False]
Created by joybucket
These are all random secrets from random people that I found posted on the Internet. Put an X by the secrets you share, and elaborate if you wish. I really enjoy these surveys, and I hope you do, too. Have fun! :)
I keep feeling like I'm not good enough. I wish I were somebody else. I am at my breaking point on so many different levels. I'm seriously considering quitting my job. I'm so deeply lonely. I am secretly in love with someone who is thirty years older than I am. I am struggling. I'm finding it hard to cope lately. I want to talk to a therapist, but I honestly don't know how. I don't think I've ever been in love. I don't feel like I'm worth being helped. Sometimes I find it hard to be left alone with my own thoughts. I'm so impatient and easily discouraged sometimes. If something doesn't work out the way I want it to on the first try, I just give up. I was surprised, but it came as a huge relief when I finally decided not to have kids. I get angry at every mother who doesn't love her children as much as I would love mine if I could have them. I think it's thrilling not to know what comes next. I believe in God, but I haven't mentioned it to anyone in my family because I think they'll judge me. Fear of Hell once kept me from committing suicide. My daughter is what keeps me from committing suicide. All I want is to sit down for ten minutes and not worry about a single. damn. thing. I feel lost and really afraid. I'm in love with my friend, and he doesn't know it. I adopt due to depression. I don't want to give birth to my own flesh and blood. I've never doubted the existence of God. We're all a part of something, and it's big and important and magical. I wish I could have watched her grow up. My dreams seem so far away. I'm jealous of the people who are close with their siblings. There are so many mistakes I wish I would have made while I had the chance to. I refuse to let people get close to me in fear of getting hurt. Deep down, I always feel as though people don't really like me. I am quite worried about not being able to find work during this COVID pandemic. I seem to be in a very negative state of mind lately. Every time I wake up, I want to sleep again so I won't have to feel anything.... I'm starting to believe true love is only for thin and beautiful women. I'm struggling so much more than I could ever admit. I don't know how to pull myself out of this. I am deeply unhappy, and I don't know what to do about it. I believe in God again. I stalk myself on Instagram just to see what other people see. I'm a closet Catholic. I feel like people are lying every time they tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am capable of so much more. I play the lotto so I can afford to adopt a child. I would genuinely cut all the fat off my body if I didn't think I'd die of blood loss. I hate being the ugly friend. I'm nervous about having sex, because I'm scared my partner will judge my body. (in the past) I felt really ignored when I felt horrible. I asked for help, and I didn't receive it. I want to tell someone I'm suicidal, but I'm afraid they'll treat me like I'm lesser than them if I do, which is the reason why I haven't yet. The man I married raped me before we even dated. I am not actually a lesbian. I am afraid of men. I like someone; I really do...but I am scared. I keep feeling as though I don't know myself. I fear I will spend my life waiting for a love story that doesn't exist. I feel like I'll never fit in anywhere. I have a happy personality with a sad soul. I thought I would feel better after the divorce, but instead I just feel absolutely pathetic for being divorced when I'm so young. I want my old life back. I have been going through so many life changes lately, and I haven't been myself. I am getting tired of not being ok. I'm growing increasingly concerned about my job security. I'm single, because I would rather be alone than with a guy who makes me feel alone. I really need to start therapy, but I'm stubbornly procrastinating taking the next steps. I think I need therapy again. Since losing my virginity, I haven't been able to call myself a Christian. I think my biggest secret is that I'm going to be ok. Life has been getting better than I thought. Today I will make a vow: I will NEVER settle for a boring life. I feel like we're at a really amazing point in history & it's amazing to be a part of it. I have more power than I know. I'd rather play board games on the living room floor than get wasted at parties. I wasted my childhood trying to be grown up. I finally discovered that my greatest fear is not being alone; it's being vulnerable. I'm sorry for not saying all the things I should have said. Everything is amazing and nobody is happy. I am nostalgic, but I am also strong. Maybe this world is another planet's hell. I wonder what it feels like to look at yourself without wishing you looked like someone else. I often wonder if life is easier for other people or if they're just better at faking it. I'm not brave enough to take the risks that would make me truly happy. I married my husband because he reminded me of the man I loved. My creative gifts are worth the mental illness I've suffered for them. Christmas time is my favorite time of year....and I am an Orthodox Jew. My shyness has cost me everything that mattered to me. I always wonder if I've met the person I'm going to marry yet. I wonder how many times my life has been saved because I was running late. All I want is a real conversation with another human being about something that actually matters. I was happier on my graduation day than I was on my wedding day. 👩‍🎓 I love my autistic brain. It makes me who I am, and I love me! I'm afraid I am missing opportunities to meet someone because we are all wearing headphones! 🎧 I wish I had never become a mother. I knew it was a mistake as I walked down the aisle. 💒 I love my family, but most of the time I prefer solitude. I'm fairly certain my wife would be more distraught over losing her phone than losing me. I found my soulmate after my wedding. I cannot clap on beat. 👏 I have a drunk alter-ego that has her own name. I pretend I hate it, but I actually love my body. I remember every time someone called me fat. I thought I'd be happier and more excited to be his girlfriend.
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Surprise, surprise.
Author's note: This is my first ever written one shot. The inspiration popped into my head during my shower. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy
Fluffy one shot.
Part 1.
// Introduction //
A little info about Y/N and Vinnie.
So, you guys met during the first Covid lockdown.
You weren’t really seeing anyone of your friends during this time because you didn’t feel like taking any risks. So the only way for you to interact with anyone, was via social media. Before lockdown you also kind of give up on the idea of finding a lover because the last time you gave it a shot it didn’t work out.
You remember one of your best friends told you ‘’ Once you start focusing on yourself, it’ll come to you. ‘’ Well, what better way to focus on yourself other than during quarantine?
That’s when Vinnie came into the picture.
After many failed attempts of having a normal conversation with serval people, the last thing Vinnie expected was to meet someone like you. A lot of the time people tried to take advantage of the fact that he was famous. They would post his personal info on social media and share their conversations for clout. Just like you, Vinnie was kind of over the idea of meeting someone who would like him for his personality instead of his name.
You guys instantly clicked. It felt like talking to someone you’ve known your entire life. There wasn’t a thing you couldn’t share with another. But because the two of you lived in different time zones you couldn’t talk as much as you’d like, but you made it manageable. There was only one problem; traveling was not an option due to Covid, so the two of you had never seen each other in real life.
Until now…
// End of introduction //
Alex (Warren) set up his camera to make a video.
He clicked on record and looked into the camera.
‘’ So as you guys know, Vinnie and Y/N met online in the beginning of Covid, but they’ve never officially seen each other in real life. Now that traveling is allowed again and Vinnie hasn’t been feeling himself lately, I thought it was a good idea to surprise him. I bought y/n a plan ticket so she can come over and hopefully cheer Vinnie up. And I will document the entire journey. ‘’
// Vinnie’s POV //
It’s noon. I lay on my bed, scrolling on my phone through TikTok. I haven’t heard from Y/N all day. Normally she would call me before going to bed herself, but she never did. I tried texting her but no reply.
Y/NNNN????
Yo bro, you there???
I miss your voiceeee
Please don’t be asleep already 
Pick up!!!!!! Or else I’m coming for you.
God, I wish I could just fly to wherever she was at and kiss her entire face. Because, yes, I am indeed in love with her, and she feels the same way about me. I just never thought I could recognize so much of myself in someone else. She’s the most kind, beautiful and loving person I know, and I can’t wait to hold her in my arms one day and never let go.
I’m starting to daydream about a life with y/n without the long distance, because it truly sucks. Then I hear a knock on the door and before I know it Alex comes rushing in with his camera in his hand.
( Vinnie & Alex )
‘’ Vinnie, say hello to everyone! ‘’
‘’ Hello everyone. Alex what do you want? ‘’
‘’ Why are you assuming I want something from you? ‘’
‘’ Because you only enter my room if you either have one of your crazy ideas to share or if you want me to get involved in something I probably shouldn’t get involved into. ‘’
‘’ Pfft, not true. My ideas aren’t crazy, they’re brilliant in their own way. ‘’
Alex grins at me. Suspiciously.
‘’ Anyways that’s not the point Vincent, I actually came in to see if you would join me to get some groceries because the only thing left are rise waffles and I’m starving. ‘’
Alex is blinking his eyes with the same grin he has had on from the moment he came into my room.
He’s not going to leave until I agree on coming. So before I know it, we’re on our way to the grocery store.
// Y/N’s POV //
I received a text from Alex a few weeks ago. He told me about his idea to surprise Vinnie. I couldn’t be more excited. Ever since Vinnie and I started talking I have pushed many of my personal boundaries. In a positive way. Vinnie has helped me regain trust in others and has showed me that love is real. I have lost my faith in love due to my previous experiences. That’s why the connection that I have with Vinnie is so important to me.
I have arrived at the airport as I turn on my phone. My phone starts to receive all the missed text messages and calls from Vinnie. I smile as I read through them.
‘’ Oh Vin, if only you knew ‘’ I think to myself.
I hear someone yelling my name behind me. As I turn around, I see Nailea running towards me.
Nailea is a close friend of Vinnie so of course she was the first to know about Vinnie’s contact with me. She’s been super kind to me, and I consider her as the sister I never had.
Nailea hugs me once she has approached me.
( Y/N & Nailea )
‘’ OH MY GOD. Girl, I am so happy that you’re finally hereeeee!!! ’’
I laugh as I see people around looking at us.
‘’ I am also very happy to be here. To finally meet everyone. For real. ‘’
‘’ Yea, now tell me, does my nose look bigger on the screen than in real life? ‘’
‘’ Hahaha, no Nai. You look fantastic on the screen and even better in real life. ‘’
Nailea and I take my stuff and walk out of the airport.
Once settled in the car, I receive a text from Alex:
We’re almost at the store. He hasn’t got a clue. See you there.
This is all a part of Alex his big plan. First, I will act like a regular costumer shopping at the same store as Vinnie and Alex. Then once they get back, Alex will distract Vinnie just a little longer, so he won’t notice me walking past the car right away. Brilliant.
// Vinnie’s POV //
Alex and I walk into the store.
‘’ Alright, what do we need? ‘’
‘’ Anything but rise waffles. ‘’
I shake my head, laughing, as I walk to the lemonade aisle.
Alex is taking out his camera and starts filming me from a far.
I start singing Paparazzi by Lady Gaga as I act like I'm hiding from him.
‘’ Oh, you should also take a few cans of coke. ‘’ Alex suggests.
As I walk towards the aisle with cans of lemonade, I notice a girl standing in front of it. Her hair instantly reminds me of Y/N. The exact same length, color and texture. Call me a simp, but I just pay a lot of attention to the girl I love. I slowly approach the girl before Alex attacks be by throwing a teddy bear on my head.
‘’ Hey, watch it! ‘’ I fix my hair.
‘’ Sorry man, I just know how much you like teddy bears. ‘’ Alex’s laughing out loud as he zooms in to my face.
I laugh, as I start to think back to the day Alex thought it would be funny to buy a giant teddy bear and have Patrick in it to scare me.
Just then, I notice the girl was gone. I didn’t see her anywhere else again.
After collecting all the stuff, we needed, we went home.
Once we arrived home, Alex stopped me before I opened my car door.
‘’ Let’s just sit here for a bit and talk about some stuff. ‘’ I stare at Alex with a confused look on my face.
‘’ Yea, because the viewers want to know, how are things going between you and Y/N? ‘’
I scratch the back of my neck and start feeling the heat take over my cheeks.
‘’ I mean, it’s hard sometimes. She’s one of the most important people in my life, yet I haven’t even met her in person. But I just know that once I do, that everything will naturally fall into it’s place. ‘’
Alex pouts as he listens to all the sweet things I have to say.
‘’ You really like her, don’t you? ‘’
‘’ I mean, yea I do. I really do. ‘’
‘’ Alright, so imagine her standing in front of you right now, what would you do? ‘’
I look at my hands as I start to imagine a situation like that.
‘’ Uh… If she was standing in front of me right now.. I would.. ‘’ My eyes scan a figure walking past the car and I couldn’t believe my eyes.
// Y/N’s POV //
Shit, I almost got caught. The plan was to go into the store, just to admire Vinnie from a far. I didn’t plan to stand in the exact aisle, where he needed to get something from. Luckily, Alex had a plan to distract Vinnie while I fled to the exit. Phew, that was close.
Alex texted me, saying they were on their way home. That’s when it hit me, I am going to be able to see, touch and kiss Vinnie for the first time ever. Nailea noticed my anxiety kicking in and she told me everything would be just fine.
It didn’t take long before Alex’s car pulled up on the driveway. Alex and Vinnie stayed in the car for a bit. My phone started buzzing as I read the notification: ‘’ Now!’’ That was my cue.
As nervous as one can be, I walked past the car with the person who’s the other half of my heart in it. I didn’t dare to look in his direction.
// Vinnie’s POV //
I couldn’t believe my eyes. This isn’t real right? Was I dreaming? I mean, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night because I was worried sick due to Y/N not responding to me anymore.
I rub my eyes as I watch in the direction of the person again and there’s no way it couldn’t be her.
Then she turns her face into my direction and my heart starts pounding. There she is, the love of my life, the only person who can make my day just by popping up in my notifications, Y/N.
As I try to open my door, I hear Alex locking it.
‘’ Let me out! ‘’ I look at Alex as I try to unlock the door, but unable because he keeps his hand infront of the lock.
‘’ You haven’t answered my question yet. ‘’ Alex smirks at me, but I do not find it funny at all.
‘’ Please, let me out and I’ll show you what I would do if she were to stand in front of me ‘’
And with, I heard the door unlock. I jumped out of the car and ran as fast as I could to the person who I longed for the most.
Click here for part two;
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tomtenadia · 3 years
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A Little Braver - 17
So, as promised, part 17 is her.
Be prepared to submerge our bird boy with hugs, he will need them.
I promise the chapter will end in fluff and in a good note. The angst is only for the beginning. I need to douse it a bit since from ch 19 onwards the angst gremlin will be back with a vengeance.
I hope you will love it.
A big hug to all the people who commented, reblogged or loved this fic. Thanks to all of you.
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A week had gone by and Aelin and Rowan had taken the official decision to try and go back and both deal with the mess of their lives. 
The week had been perfect. Rowan had taken her hillwalking everyday and slowly she had started to feel like herself again. His presence had helped immensely. In a very short time he had become her rock. Full recovery was still a long way ahead but she felt better and with him at her side she had no more panic attacks or nightmares. 
She felt sad at the idea of leaving the cottage in the mountains but they had promised to go back for some special occasion.
*
It was morning and Rowan was getting ready to go back to work. They had set a date for the inquiry on his student’s death and that would be the day.
For once Aelin was the one worried one. She could not forget his reaction to the movie or the night he came back drunk after Fuzzy’s death. She knew he had put up a wall but hoped he would at least let her in. 
“What are you going to do?” He asked her while adjusting his tie.
“I have a meeting with Dorian and the counsellor and then I will pop in at the station and say hi to the squad and apologise.”
“Good.” His tone was detached and she moved a step to him and hugged his waist from behind “are you okay?”
He sighed “nervous. This will mean revive the entire accident over and over again.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
He shook his head and kissed her “thanks for the offer but I will be fine. My squadron will be there and you have an important meeting as well.”
“Ok,” she wanted to believe him, but could not ignore his cold detached tone and Aelin had learned that it was his coping mechanism. He was not okay.
-
Rowan arrived at the airforce HQ and was met by Lorcan.
“Sir,” he stood to attention.
“At ease captain,” Rowan stood down from attention and placed his hands behind his back in a at rest pose “I am sorry it’s so quick. I knew you were coming back yesterday and I did manage to hold on until today.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Are you sure you are ready?” And for once Rowan heard concern in his CO’s voice “this is going to be brutal.”
“I know.”
“I am on the board too and we have Captain Walker from the 24th squadron and Captain Matthews from the 31st and two engineers. They have all copies of the inquiry sent to the board.”
“Who is the president?”
“Marshal Clark.” Said Lorcan in a preoccupied tone.
“Fuck. The man hates me with a vengeance.”
Rowan sighed again and sat on the bench just outside of the room used for the meeting.
His squad arrived a moment later and they patted each other’s back in support.
“We are all here.” Gavriel told him taking a seat at his side.
“Thanks everyone.”
One of the assistants appeared on the door and announced the board was ready to convene. Rowan quickly texted Aelin and switched off his mobile.
The marshal, being the president, was in the centre of the seating area. Rowan went to greet the other two captains with whom he got along nicely and had known for a long time. Then he went to the marshal and saluted as expected “at ease captain.”
Rowan went to his assigned seat and flipped through the folder in front of him. It contained all the documents they needed. His report of the accident, the reports from the engineering team and other supporting evidence.
Marshal Clark called everyone to attention and declared the board in session. He then proceeded to explain to the members the accident that had happened.
One of the engineers who had performed checks after the aircraft had been recovered was asked to present his findings “after the analysis of the recovered aircraft and after having studied the dynamics of the accident we have found out that the main cause for the engine failure was a disruption in the airflow in the port intake causing it to stall with enough yaw rate to induce a flat spin. Cadet Williamson, according to the records of the accident, flew in the jet wash of one of his classmate’s aircrafts. That caused the airflow disruption. The stall was unrecoverable.” explained the engineer reading from his report “with regard to the canopy, we have found a fault in some model of jets used by the students where the charges did not operate correctly, causing the canopy to separate incorrectly. All those planes are grounded and now being checked.”
“Thank you.” Said the marshal, then his gaze turned to Rowan “Captain Whitethorn, stand please.”
Rowan did so.
“Could you please re tell the board the events that lead to the death of the cadet?”
Rowan took a deep breath and retold step by step what happened. It was still vivid in his mind that it would take ages before he could forget it.
“Did you tell the cadet to eject?”
“I did, sir.”
“Why?” Asked the marshal with inquisitive tone.
“He had lost control of the aircraft. From the black box retrieved from his jet he had pulled 9g after he started spiralling. From my position I could see that he was about to pass out. Ejecting the seat had been the safest option. Little did I know that the canopy would fail.”
The two other captains nodded in agreement, knowing full well that they would have suggested the same thing.
“Would the cadet have survived if he had more high G training?”
“Sir,” Rowan almost growled at his superior “his jet was under 9g for almost ten seconds before crashing in the water. Not even an experienced and highly trained pilot can sustain or survive that.” He breathed again “and you know better than me that centrifuge training can be done only with some weekly limits due to its dangers.”
“Had the cadets received basic procedures on how to properly eject and when?”
“Yes, sir. It’s one of the first things they are taught. They are shown how to properly deploy their parachute and how to blow the canopy. Training is also done in different conditions to simulate possible combat scenery.”
“Training was not the issue here,” said Lorcan going in Rowan’s support “Captain Whitethorn is one of our most experienced instructors and hundreds of students have survived his crushing training and are still alive today because of what he has taught them.”
“The post mortem also backed the cause of death in the crash of the body against the canopy.” Added captain Matthews.
“What kind of training were you doing that day?” The marshal continued, ignoring the protests.
“We were going through some basic dogfight routines. The cadets were only five months out of the academy so we were just covering the basics as per fighter school curriculum.” Answered Rowan who felt lost all of a sudden.
“Would the manoeuvre you had practiced put the boy in a position to be in another jet’s wake? Didn’t you teach them how to stay away from the jet wash of another aircraft during a dogfight?” The marshal had an agenda, that was very clear to Rowan. He was trying to blame this on him.
Captain Walker stood angrily “why are we attacking captain Whitethorn? The problem was that the engine stalled due to the jet wash from another aircraft. An experienced fighter might have been able to find a way out of such deadly spiral, the gods know I have found myself in that situation and got out of it by pure damn luck. Not a cadet five months out of the academy. It’s our job to teach them such manoeuvres but only after they have mastered the basics.” He sat down again nodding at Rowan.
“A good instructor would have taught his students how to fly in close formation and to avoid the wake of a team mate. A captain should know what such manoeuvre could cause.” Continued the marshal who had taken the fight to Rowan.
Lorcan stood angrily “That is enough.” He shouted.
“I would suggest you to sit down, Air commodore.”
“Not when you accuse my best instructor of being the cause of the death of a student.”
“It is my job as president of this board to try and figure out what happened.”
“I told two of my students they were too close. I advised another one not to drop below hard deck. I care about the safety of my students.” Rowan almost growled at the marshal “also, I stand by my decision to order cadet Williamson to eject. Had the canopy worked he’d be alive now.”
The marshal nodded and with a bored expression he then went back to the engineering team and they discussed the canopy issue.
Rowan let them talk and his brain disconnected completely and tried to ignore the pain from what had just transpired.
He sat in silence listening to the rest of the board discuss in the background. 
The marshal eventually called the board to attention “Following the evidence provided by the engineering team and the testimony of captain Whitethorn I declare that the death of cadet Williamson was caused by the port engine stall due to airflow disruption in the intake. The commission also noted that the flat spin in which the cadet went in was not recoverable. Captain Whitethorn is cleared of any faults.” Rowan noticed the disappointment on the man’s face for the fact the had been cleared of any faults.
The marshal then turned to Lorcan “Commodore, I expect you to keep the students grounded until the training jets have been fixed.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The board is dismissed.” Clark stood and walked out.
The other two captain went to Rowan “I had no idea the bastard would try to blame you for this.”captain Matthews added with fury.
“I would have told my students to eject as well. It was the only option.” Added captain Walker.
But Rowan was not listening. It hurt too much, knowing that someone had tried to blame the death of his student on him. That the marshal had to question all of his choices and possibly his training methods.
Lorcan and his squadron were at his side as soon as the room was clear.
“The arsehole has some guts.” Commented Fenrys but Gavriel elbowed him.
Rowan stood in a daze and left the room ignoring the voices of his team calling him.
*
Aelin’s meeting with Dorian and the counsellor had gone better than she expected. Thanks to Rowan she had been able to open up and talk to them about what happened and how she had been before her escape and what had prompted her to flee. She admitted to them her fears.
She felt much better but she had confessed that she did not feel ready to go back in action. She felt okay about going back to the station and work from the office but was not ready yet to be in a fire. She was still too scared for that and Dorian and the counsellor accepted her admission.
So they had agreed for a transition period. Aelin was told as well to attend weekly sessions with the counsellor to track her progress and her mental health recovery. She would be on desk duty for a while and after that, Dorian was willing to send her back out but just at his side in a fire emergency allowing her again to be close to the fire scene and if that went well they could work on a plan on sending her back in. 
She had agreed with the final decision and had left the room with a smile and a light heart. She stopped in the corridor to check her phone but no news from Rowan. The meeting should be over by now. She hoped he was okay.
Happily she drove back to her squad and everyone was eager to catch up with her. Then Aedion stopped in front of her “never again,” he told her and Aelin went for a hug. He remained stiff for a moment, then his arms enveloped her in a bear hug “looks like your captain fixed you up nicely.”
“Hey, I would recover from anything if I had such man looking after me.” Said Ansel and everyone laughed.
“He has been nice to me.” But all she could think was his face from that morning.
 *
Rowan had been walking without a direction for a while now. He felt as if he had lost his rudder, he had spent the last twelve years of his life working for people who had been ready to blame on him the death of a student. He looked at his uniform and for the first time since he had worn it he felt no pride in it. He had been so tempted to resign his wings on the spot. No matter that he had been cleared, it stung so much, even if it had been the opinion of one man.
It had been too much. He knew the marshal was never a fan of his. The first student he had lost had been his son. But at the time as well the board had declared it had not been his fault. It had been the pilot’s mistake. The marshal never forgave him. Seeing him again at a board for a student’s death he had probably tried to punish him for what happened to his son.
In the distance he spotted a pub and decided that a drink might help. He got in and sat at the counter and ordered a whisky, but once the drink was in front of him he could not drink it. In his current state he would spiral down again to the same level of self destruction of many years before when he lost the marshal’s son and he could not do that again. He could not put Aelin through that pain.
So he did the only sensible thing. He called her.
Aelin was in the common room with the squad and they were having fun and the guys were telling her about some of the calls they had and then they were teasing Luca and his upcoming exam.
She was about to tell them to stop picking on him when her phone went off. It was Rowan and her heart stopped. 
She quickly left the room and went outside, sitting on the bumper of one of the engines “hey,”
“Hi,” his voice was low and flat and she feared for him.
“What’s wrong.”
Silence.
“Ro, are you okay?”
“No.”
Shit. She stood and started pacing “where are you?”
“At a pub.”
“Which one.”
He told her the name.
“I am coming. Just stay there.” And closed the conversation and almost laughed at the irony of the situation. A week before she had been at the receiving end of such conversation.
She ran back to the squad “guys, I need to go. Rowan. It’s not good. I just have to go…”
She didn’t even wait for an answer. She just rushed back to her car and drove to him. He did not sound drunk so maybe it was not all lost.
She arrived at pub not long after and stormed in. Rowan was sitting at the counter staring at a glass of whisky in front of him.
“Ro.” She walked to him and his green eyes fell on her. There was pain in them, so much pain.
“You are not drunk,” she told him.
“He ordered the whisky two hours ago and had been staring at it ever since.” Said the bartender.
“Hey,” she caressed his head and he closed his eyes at the touch “what happened?”
He shook his head “not here.” He stood and Aelin followed then came back and chugged down the abandoned whisky and went after him.
He was walking away and she ran after him “wait, you have long legs, damn you.” He extended an arm behind him and Aelin grabbed his hand “fine, we are outside, spill the beans.”
She definitely had no tact.
He walked silently a bit longer until they reached a small park and he sat down on a bench and Aelin took a spot at his side never letting his hand go.
And then he told her. Everything that had happened in the room. The results of the inquiry, the marshal’s accusations. The identity of the first student he had lost and his desire to quit.
“I wanted to throw my wings in the marshal’s face.” He looked down dejected “I feel lost now. I want to go back to my students, I owe it to them, to teach them how to be safe. But everything else… I don’t care about it anymore.” his head leaned against her shoulder and Aelin brushed his head with her hand and kissed it tenderly “Ro, how can I help you?”
Rowan turned his head to her and she thought his eyes were wet with tears “what you are doing just now is enough. Having you with me helps.”
“Do you need to go back to the airbase now?”
Rowan nodded sadly.
“Ok, I’ll drive you.” Aelin stood and Rowan followed but before moving he pulled her to him and drew her in for a kiss “I love you.” He said quietly.
She flicked his nose “let’s go.” She offered him her hand and together they walked back to her car.
They arrived at the airbase not long after “do you need me to come in?”
Rowan shook his head “my team is there. I will be fine. Gav will stop me from doing anything stupid.”
“Good. I am going back to the station.” She leaned forward to kiss him “Will you be okay? I am worried about you.”
“I am a big boy.” He joked.
“Ro…”
He leaned forward and kissed her “I do love so much when you call me Ro like that…”
Aelin smiled against his lips “don’t do anything stupid and tomorrow you can ravish me all you want. You can even be super creative.”
“How can I refuse such proposal?” He kissed her again “I will be fine.” His hand went to the door handle and opened the door “I will see you tomorrow morning at home. Have a nice night shift.”
Aelin’s heart swelled with joy at the word home. Their place. They hadn’t made it official but her house had become home. Their home. And she loved the feeling of it.
“Think creative, captain.”
He winked at her and left the car. Then he waved at her and Aelin left, he put his cap on his head and headed back inside the airbase.
-
Rowan made his way to Lorcan’s office and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.
“Come in,” came from inside.
Rowan entered the room and Lorcan looked up at him and he did notice the expression of disbelief in his CO’s face.
“Rowan —” but the other man stopped him.
“Thank you for today. For the support.” Rowan said quietly sitting on the chair in front of his CO.
“The man was out of line.” Lorcan growled “he knows what kind of instructor you are. How strict you are. The man was trying to get you sacked as a punishment for his son’s death knowing full well that again it was not your fucking fault.”
Rowan looked away, shutting away the painful memories.
“I already sent orders to start working on the canopies and check them all.”
Rowan nodded silently.
“I know what we can do to cheer you up.” Rowan turned his head staring at a surprisingly cheery Lorcan. Elide was really doing miracles.
“Grab you gear and let’s get out in the air, this man here needs to fly. It’s been so long that it’s a miracle I can still be called a pilot.” And he chuckled.
Rowan stood “Fine, be ready to be crushed.”
Lorcan grinned and stood as well “Oh, I submitted a proposal to allow women to serve in the airforce.”
Rowan’s head whipped to one side “who are you and what have you done with Lorcan Salvaterre?”
“The captain and Elide. Turns out we have both chosen very strong women.”
“I like that.”
“Me too.”
Rowan was doing his pre-flight checks when he noticed Lorcan joining him. The man had always exuded charisma.
“You should really send Elide a picture of you in a jump suit. I know how much Aelin likes it, I guess Elide might appreciate it too.”
Lorcan lifted an eyebrow while he reached his jet and popped open the canopy “you think?”
Rowan nodded “how is it going with her by the way?”
“She is incredible. She is tiny but fierce and stubborn and quite amazing.”
Rowan could not believe it, Lorcan was in awe of someone a feat that he thought was impossible.
“You are in love with her.”
“I think so.” said Lorcan hiding the words in a cough, almost embarrassed by his admission.
“Good.” Then he stared at Lorcan and he realised that going out out for a flight had been a good idea. They were evenly matched in skill and it was going to be a fun one. They had a few turbulent months but he had more or less always got along with him. Flying together again felt like the good old times.
“You missed a spot.” Rowan pointed at one section under the wing. 
Lorcan replied with a middle finger and it felt nice to have their old banter back when Lorcan could finally put aside his CO mask for a while.
“I am not a cadet, I know how to do my pre flight checks.”
“Well, you are not following the order we were taught at flight school, cadet Salvaterre.”
“Stop being a smartass, cadet Whitethorn.”
Rowan climbed in his jet and finished his checks inside and communicated with the tower to finalise the flight plan and get the authorisations required.
“Come on Lorcan, you are so slow. Tower gave us the all clear and the flight plan is in. Are you sure you still remember how to fly? Do you need any pointers, Chaos?”
Chaos was Lorcan’s callsign and he had earned it very early in his career for his flying skills.
Eventually they were both ready and the two jets got taxied away and not long after they were in the air.
“Rules of engagement: anything is allowed and two out of three?”
“Copy that, Iceman.”
“Good, be ready to lose.”
The two jets broke apart and went in different directions and for a while they just ran in circles above the airbase to study each other.
Lorcan hadn’t wanted to admit that he was a bit rusty and Rowan was indeed a nasty customer. 
Gavriel and the three young pilots were walking along one of the long corridors on the airbase when they heard the sound of jets in the air and ran to the next window to look who it was. The classes for the cadets were still grounded and the three of them were on ground.
“Holy fuck,” muttered Gavriel when he realised who was out flying.
He ran out to the viewing tower followed by the twins and Vaughan.
“Is that who I think it is?” Asked Connall speechless.
“Rowan and Lorcan.” The older man turned to the three young guys “you are in for a treat, they can make you feel like a newbie.”
Gavriel saw Rowan pull in a vertical and flying into the sun, roll on his back and continue in  straight line flying just a meter above Lorcan, finally flipped his jet once again and placed himself at Lorcan’s six.
Lorcan tried some evasive manoeuvres but Rowan did not let go, always at his tail attempting to get a lock on his CO.
Lorcan felt trapped and as a last ditch he went into a high G barrel roll to try and shake off Rowan.
“Rowan is going to overshoot,” said Connall who was silently watching the dogfight between their superiors.
Then Rowan pulled a trick out of the hat and kept his jet in line with Lorcan’s then rolled and found himself upside down and fired at the other man.
“Holy fuck,” was Fenrys’ comment at the scene.
“What did just happen? How did he even manage that?” Added Vaughan.
“That is Rowan for you. Now you realise why we can’t ever win?”
“One nil for me, Chaos.”
“You are a sneaky bastard, Whitethorn. And where did you learn such manoeuvres?”
Rowan laughed over the comms “get your act together, Commodore, and you can probably get me.”
The dogfight between the two went on for much longer. Lorcan did manage to win an engagement but Rowan still won 2-1. They landed back and they found Rowan’s team waiting for them.
“Good to see you two flying again. The youngsters never had the chance to see the pros at work.” Said Gavriel relieved that the two men seemed again at ease with each other.
“Oh, yeah. Our dear CO was a bit rusty and I took him out to stretch his legs and I handed out his arse to him twice.”
Lorcan gave him the middle finger in response.
*
Elide was in the ambulance doing some inventory checks when her phone pinged. She opened the text from Lorcan and almost fainted on the spot. It was Lorcan in his jump suit beside his jet and the man actually had a hint of a smile on his face. The second image was of him and Rowan standing back to back, their arms folded at their chest and both had a goofy smile on.
She jumped off the ambulance and ran to Aelin who was in the equipment room checking out their gear “Ace, look!” She shouted as she stormed in.
“What?” And she looked at the two pictures on Elide’s phone.
“Interesting…” Aelin stared with curiosity at the picture of the two men.
“He is soooo hot, I have never seen him in a jump suit and gods I don’t know? Want to remove it one bit at a time?”
Aelin laughed “that’s what I would do to Rowan right now if we were together in a private place. I would peel that jump suit off him until he is naked in front of me.”
She saw Elide blush “Lorcan and I haven’t… passed the kissing stage yet. He has never touched me. He is very considerate of me. But a few times he hugged me and I… felt him.” And she made a gesture and Aelin understood.
“Elide that is normal. How do you feel about the next stage? Like exploring each other’s bodies?”
“As in naked?”
“Yes, but you can start with keeping your underwear to have a barrier on if it makes you feel better.”
Elide sat on the bench beside her “I don’t know how to do this. How do I touch him?”
Aelin could see panic rise in the woman “ask him to show you and then once you feel brave enough to try just give it a go. It can be quite fun.” Aelin stopped for a second trying to find a way to tackle the next issue “Elide, have you ever… you know… explored your body? Down there?”
Elide blushed savagely “no.”
Aelin took the woman’s hand “take a nice warm bath and then…” Aelin wiggled her fingers “just put a hand between your legs and see how it goes, what you feel.”
“Oh.”
“At least once you two take the next step you have an idea of how it feels.”
“And Lorcan does that as well?”
Aelin nodded “yes, and if the man is as good as the others claim he might leave you a satisfied mess just with his fingers or mouth or both. A sort of appetiser before the main course.”
“Do you and Rowan…?”
Aelin nodded “and not just him to me but me to him as well.”
“This sounds so much.”
“Elide, look at me.” Aelin placed her hands on the woman’s shoulder “you do not have to take the next step until you are okay with it. Talk with Lorcan. Explain to him that you are getting curious and want to try more. You can use a safe word so that when you start to become uncomfortable, you shout that word and he has to stop.”
“Oh.”
“He hasn’t rushed you or anything?”
Elide shook her head “no, he has been so understanding, and never pushed.”
“Good. You set the pace. You are the one who needs time so he adjusts to you, remember. But if you feel like you are ready for another step just tell him.”
“Is it… is it as good as everyone says? Is it worth it?”
Aelin nodded “with the right person is something incredible. The intimacy… the connection…”
“Do you have that with your captain?”
“Yeah, and some.”
“Uhhh… are we getting serious?”
Aelin looked away for a moment “I loved Sam. A lot. We were good together but it was never like this. Never this deep.” She threw her head against one of the jackets “I don’t know how to explain it but my feelings for Rowan are so strong that sometimes I feel like I can’t breath.”
“I want that too.”
A moment later the conversation was interrupted by Lysandra entering the room “Here you are, why are you hiding?”
Elide showed Lys Lorcan’s picture.
“Oh mama…”
“Elide is feeling… curious.”
Lysandra hugged the woman “that is wonderful, darling. With such a specimen I’d be curious too.”
“Lys.” Shouted Aelin laughing.
“What? Fine the man can be an arsehole but I can’t deny that in that picture he is one hot bastard.”
“Show her the other.”
Elide showed Lysandra the picture with both Rowan and Lorcan.
“Ok, I really need a cold shower now.”
“I am pretty sure Aedion is available. Just keep it quiet.”
Lysandra laughed “don’t you think I tried? He said it would be against the rules.”
“I am almost done with equipment checks. This room will be free soon.”
“You are a wicked woman.” 
Aelin winked.
“Did you do it in here with the captain?”
“No, but his office is quite comfortable.”
“Nice.” Commented Lysandra.
Lys then took Elide’s hand “come on, we got a couple of things to finish.”
Once the two ladies left she phoned Rowan and he picked up at the first ring.
“I am jealous, Lorcan sent a picture of the two of you to Elide and I don’t get a copy?”
“You liked that?”
“You were both smiling.”
“We talked,” added Rowan “Lorcan was even more pissed than me. I think Elide did the miracle.”
Aelin laughed and relaxed at his admission “how so?
“He chuckled. Lorcan chuckled.”
She heard mirth in his voice.
“And the man is totally in love with Elide. I swear I never heard the man talk like that about a woman.”
“Interesting.”
“Also, apparently he has decided to support my idea of having women in the airforce and submitted a proposal to the higher ups and he is prepared to fight for it.” He told her, knowing she would love the news.
“Ok, I might finally start to like the man. What changed?”
“You and Elide apparently.”
Aelin smiled smugly “so he does listen, I am impressed. I don’t think I can cope with the idea of Lorcan not being the bad guy.”
“His job is very stressful and I don’t think I could be able to cope with the amount of shit he has to deal with.” He sighed “put me in a cockpit surrounded by enemies and I will be fine. But the idea of being stuck behind a desk playing the political game day in day out…. no. I will retire before it happens.” He added sadly.
“So, what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day, captain?”
“I am helping him with a few things. Then do more prep work for our performance review.”
“Do you think you are ready for that?”
She heard a lot of noise in the background and she guessed he was back in the hangar.
“Aye, we are good to go.” He was silent for a moment “I have to go, Fireheart.”
“Sure. Be safe and have a nice drill.”
“I love you. Have a nice night shift.”
“Send me that picture, Whitethorn.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She closed the conversation and relaxed heavily. Rowan sounded so much better and she was smidge less worried. With a big smile she went back to her work.
*
It was past 9pm and Aelin was in her office working away on some paperwork Dorian had sent over. She had a good day. It had felt good being back and she realised that Rowan’s help and their time away had helped very much. She felt saner and being at the station did not cause any problems. She was not ready yet to go back fighting fires, of that she was well aware. That was the last challenge she had to face but she and Aedion had discussed a training regimen that would slowly allow her to find the courage again to go fully back on duty and she felt excited at the idea.
She had been so engrossed in her work she did not hear the knock on the door. When it happened a second time she slowly raised her head “come in.” She said flatly and almost annoyed. 
A head of silver hair appeared on the door and she stopped “am I interrupting?”
“Of course captain. How dare you?”
He smiled and took a step in “I can go if you are working.”
Aelin rolled her eyes “get your arse inside and give me fifteen minutes of silence.”
He nodded and walked to her bookcase, giving her his back. His hand behind his back, his spine ramrod straight and his feet slightly apart in a perfect at ease position. She grinned. You could take the man out of the military but not the military out of the man.
She stopped working and rested her chin on her hands and a pen in her mouth. She studied him from behind and was impressed how still he could stay. A feat that had alway been impossible to her. 
Rowan grabbed one of her manuals and started flipping through it. It was only fair, she had done the same to his flight manuals. 
“A chemistry book?”
She eventually decided to stand and join him at his side.
“I hated chemistry in school. I was good at it but never liked it. I preferred physics.”
Aelin smiled and grabbed another book: fire science “this one might be more interesting.”
He had a look through it and smiled at her “can I take it at home or do you need it here?”
“You can take it home.”
Rowan smiled and placed the book on the sofa then cupped her face “hi, by the way.” And he kissed her.
“About time. I thought you were more interested in my books than me.” She teased him, pulling away briefly.
“You told me to stay silent for fifteen minutes. I was just following orders.”
“Screw that.”Aelin switched off her computer and walked to him, palm upturned, offering him her hand “follow me captain.”
“Do I need to be scared?”
She glared at him.
They walked along the corridor of the fire station and it was so silent and quiet compared to what he had seen during the day “where is everyone?”
“Resting. We got beds, you know? But Brullo and Ress are probably up watching tv as usual.”
They walked through the common area and as Aelin suspected the two guys were watching some  series on tv.
“Hi guys,” she greeted them.
They raised their heads “hi boss,” then noticed Rowan “oh captain, you found her. Good.”
“When I walked in I announced myself. I could not just waltz in.”
“Come on,” she grabbed his hand. Aelin dragged Rowan to the area where they kept the fire engine and the truck. She moved to the engine and opened a door on the side and pulled out two thick blankets then with them under her armpit, she started climbing the ladder at the end of the rig “Come on captain.”
Rowan looked at her puzzled.“Where are you going?”
He saw her rolling her eyes “on top of the rig.”
“If the alarm—”
“Captain, if the alarm goes off we have enough seconds to get our arses back down. They will not drive away with us on top of the rig. Do you trust me?”
He looked at her in a strange way.
Aelin threw the blankets on the top of the engine and climbed back down and marched to him, grabbing his hand “move.”
With force she dragged him to the ladder and prompted him to climb. He did as ordered and once at the top he stopped. Aelin stopped behind him, then in a swift motion she pulled her leg over the engine rail and climbed on its roof.
She took the blankets and placed them on top of all the hoses “it smells a bit of smoke. You’ll get used to it.”
He climbed over and stood for a second admiring the view from on top of the engine. When he turned he saw Aelin laying down on the blankets, her arms extended to him and a goofy smile on her face. He joined her and took a place at her side.
She nested against his chest and his arms looped around her frame.
“I come up here a lot on a night shift. I don’t sleep, I just relax, I love to imagine I am laying on the grass and that if I look up I can see the stars.”
“I do that when I am on an aircraft carrier and I am not on standby. I just walk on the deck along the rail, although is not as quiet as here as there are still flights happening, but it’s less busy. I just lean against the handrail, near the island and look out at the sea and I my case I can see the stars.”
Aelin turned in his arms and faced him “can you navigate by just using the stars?”
“We don’t use it much, GPS is a very handy tool, but it’s a skill we learn in case something fails and you are left with no GPS or any other electronic help.”
“What about you? Had a good day at the station?” He kissed the top of her head.
Aelin nodded eagerly “yes, I admitted I had a problem out loud and both Dorian and Aedion have offered to help in anyway they can.” She looked up at him “and you… you helped so much… and still helping…”
He smiled tenderly “it goes under my job description for boyfriend, I assume?”
She caressed his face loving the sound of him calling himself her boyfriend.
“Say it again,” she whispered to him.
“What?”
“That you are my boyfriend.”
He went for a deep kiss “I am yours.”
Aelin smiled against his lips “those are powerful words, captain.”
“They are true, though.”
Aelin’s heart raced and her hand went to his chest and found his doing exactly the same.
“I love this. Us. I really do…” she stuck her head in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent “but it still scares me because it happened so fast. One day I wanted to punch you, the next I wanted to kiss you. And it frightens me. I want this to work. I want us to work out.”
His hand covered hers still on his chest “you are not alone. This is a lot for me as well. But I am done fighting my feelings.” He hugged her closer “I love you, even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”
Aelin kissed his chest “you are so cheesy it’s disgusting.”
Rowan pushed her away and she rolled on her back at his side, her hand still in his “I was trying to be romantic and you ruined the moment.”
She smiled “sorry, I used to do that with Sam all the time. He would say something super romantic and I would respond with a joke. When he proposed I replied that I had to check with my lawyer first.”
“You are a brat.”
“It was so funny. Then I texted him and said that my lawyer had agreed.” Aelin brought their twinned hands to her mouth and kissed them “I showed him later on that night in bed how much I wanted to marry him. He did not complain.”
“You really are a handful.”
“I know, but now you picked me and there is no turning back.” She said against their hands fearing she had gone too far.
“I love a good challenge.” He rolled over and was now half on top of her, his hand on her side caressing her gently.
Aelin grabbed his face in her free hands and kissed him stupid but Rowan pulled back when he remembered where they were. He was still terrified they would drive away with the two of them on top of the engine.
He lay back down and his hand started trailing along her injured arm exposed by the short sleeved shirt. The burns had healed but the skin remained marred. He traced the length of it and leaned over to kiss it.
“Does it bother you?”
“No,” he said softly while continuing to kiss her injured arm and her scars “you are my brave and fierce Fireheart. It scares me that I almost lost you. But you scars…” another gentle kiss “they don’t bother me.”
She snuggled closer and he enveloped her in his arms.
“I forgot.” He propped himself up on one elbow “I have received an invitation.”
“Oh?” Aelin did the same and faced him.
“This weekend the navy is throwing a launch party for the new aircraft carrier, down at the dockyards before she is set at sea for the trials and then off to deployment.” He explained “Me and the guys have been invited and I can bring a guest. Fancy being my plus one?”
“Are we going public, captain?”
“If you want to.”
Aelin thought about it “I could wear the stunning black dress I bought in Doranelle.”
Rowan remembered that dress and the effect it had on him when she wore it in the shop.
“Are you trying to give a heart attack to the whole Terrasen military?”
Aelin giggled “just going to show all those posh boys what an amazing taste in women you have.”
“That I do.” He flicked her nose.
Aelin was about to reply when dispatch alarm went off and she bolted on her feet and pulled Rowan up and grabbed the blankets “come on, captain.”
She climbed down super quickly and by the time he made it down, the blankets were back in the truck and the squad was getting ready to go.
“Showing the captain your special spot?” Joked Aedion.
Aelin nodded and patted his shoulder “keep the guys safe and you stay safe too.”
“Always.” Quickly Aedion ran to the truck and a moment later the squad was gone.
“It’s hard to see them go and not being able to be with them.”
He pulled an arm around her shoulder “come, I’ll make you hot chocolate.”
She followed him “that’s exactly how you woo a woman, captain.”
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Text
I found my way home
Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for. 
Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family
TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia 
Pairing: Gen 
Word Count: 4.1k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)
Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.
It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch. 
Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered. 
“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”
Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.
Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome
God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis. 
Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.
The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label. 
Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.
“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”
“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information. 
“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”
“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.
“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”
Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”
“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”
Spencer nods. 
“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”
He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised. 
He settles for, “I’ll think about it.” 
“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”
Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well. 
⭐️
He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.
But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases. 
His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps. 
He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes. 
Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.
Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?” 
He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case. 
⭐️
Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant. 
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner. 
“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”
“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better. 
“Really.”
Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.” 
“That’s incredible.”
“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”
They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”
“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.  
“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”
He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.
“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully. 
“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”
“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly. 
“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that. 
⭐️
Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.
That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.
He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.
It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.
Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”
He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively. 
“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.
The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”
“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”
“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”
The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away. 
“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air. 
“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer. 
“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand. 
“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”
Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.
⭐️
Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.
He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning. 
It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important. 
So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:
Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.” 
I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you. 
Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it. 
“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”
Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it. 
Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.
Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii
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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years
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The Reward of Suffering (Part Six)
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Summary: Spencer comes face to face with a ghost from the past.
A/N: Hey... how y’all doin? Long time no see, huh? Sorry about that - hopefully this extra long update will make up for my absence. This has definitely been my favorite part thus far, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you guys enjoy reading it. You guys know the drill by now: SPOILERS for season 12. Also, shoutout to @zhuzhubii​ for posting the absolute best set of gifs right in time for this update - you’re the coolest.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Warnings: cursing, mentions of death, mentions of rape, mentions of mental illness, kidnapping, choking
Word Count: 10.3k
           With every clack of my heels on the concrete floors, the nervous feeling in my gut grows into full blown nausea. It’s been nearly two months since I last walked these halls, but somehow it feels like a lifetime has passed. Considering everything that transpired in the last forty-eight hours, it makes sense that I feel that way.
           I hadn’t been on the team when Lindsey Vaughn first came into the picture ten years ago, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t familiar. At the time, I thought nothing of the kind neighbor that I sometimes passed in the stairwell on my way to Spencer’s apartment. I mean, why would I? I had no reason to be suspicious. Our interactions never went beyond the usual pleasantries – polite smiles and the occasional greeting – and I never gave her a second thought.
           Maybe if I had, Cassie wouldn’t be dead, and Spencer’s mother wouldn’t be missing.
           I shake my head at the thought. Now isn’t the time to ruminate on what ifs. I would have plenty of time to blame myself when all of this is over. Instead of torturing myself, I focus on trying to steady my breathing as I come to a stop just before I reach the interview room of the Milburn Correctional Facility.
           I know what lies beyond that door, and I’m equal parts excited and worried. Excited, because I’d finally be able to see Spencer after two long months of daydreaming about when I’d finally hold him in my arms again. Of course, it was very possible that Spencer wouldn’t want to see me. After all, I promised to keep his mother safe, and instead of doing that, I let myself get swept up in moving in to my apartment, and now Diana was God knows where.
           I was so sure that he wouldn’t want to see me that I’d initially suggested that Emily be the one to go to the prison and get him. My idea was met with a sad smile and a pat on the shoulder.
           “I think that if it was anyone but you standing there when they open that door, it’d break his heart.”
           Her reassurances did little to assuage my nerves. I spent the entire ride here running over every possible scenario that I could imagine, scrambling to form some kind of game plan. But now that I was here, any semblance of preparedness left me the second the guard reached for the door handle.
           “You ready, ma’am?”
           Yes.
           No.
           I don’t trust my voice, so I settle on nodding my head. The door opens with a groan, rusty hinges creaking in protest, and with shaky legs and a heart that threatens to beat out of my chest, I step into the doorway.
           It’s like the world stops turning on its axis when his eyes meet mine. Those familiar pools of caramel stare back at me with such an intensity that I force myself to look away, petrified at the prospect of seeing disappointment in them. 
           I trail my eyes over his frame, drinking in every inch of him - every bruise and every scrape feeling like a dagger to my heart. My eyes linger on the bandage adorning his left arm, before trailing down to the one on his leg. Emily had warned me about happened, about Spencer injuring himself in order to secure his safety. It was smart of him - that I knew - but that didn’t mean that I wasn’t horrified. 
           His hair has gotten longer, and his curls hang limply around his face. The usually clean-shaven Spencer I once knew was a thing of the past - replaced now by a more disheveled, scruffier version.
           Clean-shaven or not, he still looks just as breathtaking as always. 
           I hesitantly raise my eyes up to his again. He’s staring at me still, mouth parted in shock. He doesn’t look angry, just confused, and that fills me with a tiny sliver of hope.
           “Hi, Spence,” I murmur, voice thick with emotion. It’s not until I speak that I realize I’m crying, and I hastily wipe at my cheeks with my shirtsleeve.
           The dazed look in Spencer’s eyes washes away when he hears my voice and he blinks hard.
           “What… H-How are you…?” he trails off, eyes moving up and down my body.
           It feels so fucking good to hear his voice again, and I find myself unable to hold back a sob.
           “M’ here to take you home,” I choke out.
           It’s like all the tension in Spencer’s body is expelled at once and his shoulders slump in relief. I open my mouth to elaborate, to explain how Emily had managed to pull this off, but I’m stunned into silence when Spencer’s body collides with mine. I hadn’t even had time to process that he was moving before his arms snake around me, tugging me forward until there’s no space in between our bodies. Spencer’s hands collect fistfuls of my shirt, clinging desperately to the fabric as he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck.
           Once I get over the initial shock, I’m hugging him back, arms locked around his torso in a vicelike grip. He doesn’t smell the same – the usual fragrance of cinnamon and vanilla is long gone, replaced with that of some generic detergent – but the way his broad shoulders feel underneath my palms is something so familiar that I can’t help but smile against his chest.
           This is still my Spencer.
           Spencer lets out a shaky breath against my skin and I let out an involuntary shudder at the feeling.
           “Missed you so fucking much,” Spencer whispers. “I-I can’t believe you’re here. Thought I was imagining it.” Spencer takes a shaky breath in, nuzzling further into my neck. His next words are muffled from the way his lips press against my skin, but I’m still able to make out the quiet ‘I’m sorry’.
           “You’re sorry?” I hiccup, eyebrows scrunching up in disbelief. I attempt to pull away so that I can look at him, but Spencer only tightens his grip on me. Something about it makes my chest feel incredibly warm, but I push that feeling aside for now. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I should’ve done more – I should’ve visited more often. I let myself get busy, and if I’d just been more careful, then your m-mom… she wouldn’t be-”
           “Stop that,” Spencer interrupts, and this time he’s the one that pulls away. He holds me at arm’s length and those beautiful brown eyes lock with mine. “This is absolutely not your fault.”
           Spencer’s hands come up to cup either side of my face and his thumbs wipe away at the tears on my cheeks. “You’ve done so much for me – for her. I’m sorry that I took you off the list. Things were getting so bad here, and if something would have happened to you…” Spencer pauses, closing his eyes and leaning down until his forehead rests against mine. “It was never because I didn’t want to see you, I promise. And… And your letter - I can’t even begin to explain how much that helped. I’m sorry that I couldn’t write back. I didn’t know what to say. Especially not after…”
           He doesn’t elaborate, but I’m able to fill in the blanks myself. I bring my hand up and rest it on top of his.
           “S’okay, Spence. I know,” I whisper. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I understand.”
           Spencer hums and a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
           “Time to get you out of here, Doc.” I remove his hand from my face and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go get your mom back.”
           Spencer opens his eyes and for the first time in two months I’m on the receiving end of my favorite smile in the whole world.
           I lead him from the room, never once removing my hand from his. Now that I have him back, I don’t ever want to let go.
--
           For the second time today, the clacking of my heels against the concrete floor is the only sound that can be heard. Spencer moves silently beside me, his face pulled into a somber expression as we stalk down the long corridor. His hand brushes against mine, and I long to reach out and intertwine our fingers like I had only hours before. I suppress the urge, stealing one last, poorly concealed glance at him before I settle my gaze on the door at the end of the hall.
           In the last several hours, the entire case had been flipped upside down. We’d been wrong all along – Scratch wasn’t to blame for the shit show that had transpired over the last three months. It’d been an easy enough mistake to make. After the incident with Tara’s brother, Scratch was the obvious choice. Pair that with the fact that Spencer had been drugged and we had no reason to suspect anyone else.
           Cat Adams was the last thing on everyone’s mind when Mexico happened. It’d been over a year since Spencer outsmarted her in that restaurant, and she was very much out of sight and out of mind. She was in a maximum-security prison, for fuck’s sake. That alone should have rendered her unable to carry out a scheme this convoluted.
           But apparently that meant nothing, because Cat had somehow managed to be the mastermind behind this whole ordeal, perfectly orchestrating the entire thing from her cell in solitary confinement – using Lindsey Vaugh as her metaphorical puppet on a string. We’d sorely underestimated Cat, and our arrogance had come back to bite us all in the ass.
           A guard that stands at the end of the hall opens the door for us, and I feel an intense rush of foreboding as we step into the room. The sound of the guard closing the door behind us brings a sense of finality to the situation; there is no turning back now. Either we walk out of here knowing Diana’s whereabouts, or we miss the mark completely and loose Diana in the process.
           I cast a worried look at Spencer, whose eyes are trained on the double-sided glass. The tension has returned to his shoulders, and his fists are clenched tightly at his sides. There’s a sort of fiery determination in his eyes – a sort of menacing resolve that I’d never seen in him before.
           Spencer looks intimidating, and nothing like the Spencer that was led from the courtroom three months ago. I pull my eyes away in favor of looking through the glass.
           Reid had been able to see through Cat’s mind games the first time, but the Cat that sat on the other side of that door is a far cry from the one he encountered a year ago. If she’d looked cold and calculating before, she looks downright deranged now.
           “Are you sure you want to go in there alone?” I ask after a moment. “I could-”
           “No,” Spencer cuts me off. His tone is hard and definite, warning me not to argue. “I can’t ask you to do that. Emily shouldn’t have made you come in the first place.”
           “Emily told me to come with you because she knew that there was nothing she could do to make me stay.” I pause long enough to shoot him a weak smile. “Hope you enjoyed your three-month break from me, because I’m going to practically glued to your side from now on. You’ll be dying to get rid of me in a month’s time.”
           Spencer’s lips twitch, threatening to turn up into a smile.
           “I sincerely doubt that.”
           “We’ll see,” I breeze. “But I’m serious, Spence. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here the whole time – I’m not letting you go in there alone, and I’m not going to leave you.”
           “Promise?” Spencer asks, finally pulling his eyes away from the window in favor of looking at me. There’s a sadness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, and the weight of his gaze is so heavy that I worry I might buckle under it.
           I reach for his hand and hook my pinky finger around his, lifting our intertwined hands to eye level.
           “I promise.”
           Spencer’s pinky finger squeezes mine and he closes his eyes.
           “I don’t deserve you.”
           “You deserve the world, Spence.”
           For a moment I think he’s going to say something else, but then Spencer’s lips press into a tight line and he only nods in response. He releases my hand and I let it fall limply at my side. Spencer rolls his shoulders back, and that stony expression returns to his face. He reaches out and pulls open the door, and I follow closely behind him at he steps over the threshold.
           It’s as if I’m invisible; Cat doesn’t even spare me a glance when I enter the room. Her eyes, narrowed and sparkling with amusement, hone in on Spencer immediately.
           “Spencie,” she greets, smiling deviously up at him.
           “Where’s my mother?” Spencer asks, completely devoid of emotion.
           “I missed you.”
           “What did you and Lindsey do to her? How did you-”
           Cat raises a hand, effectively cutting him off. She points a finger at him, and the smile that she previously wore is replaced by a grimace.
           “Now, stop. You don’t get to walk in here and hiss at me like I’m the criminal. No – we’re going to do this my way.” Cat kicks the chair that sits on the opposite side of the table and Spencer reaches out to grab it. “Have a seat.”
           Spencer complies and Cat’s smile returns.
           “How was prison? Did you like it?”
           “No.”
           Cat hums.
           “It’s not fun, is it?”
           “Unlike you, I didn’t deserve to be there,” Spencer retorts.
           Cat leans forward, crossing her arms before resting them on the metal table.
           “How did you stay sane? A brain like yours needs stimulation in such a gray place.”
           “I worked in the laundry room and I played chess.”
           “That’s three, maybe four hours, tops. What about the other twenty?”
           “I read.”
           Cat shakes her head. “That’s still not enough. You have to… go someplace.” She taps the side of her head. “Up here. Or else you go crazy. Do you want to see where I go? I’ll show you.” Cat crooks a finger at Spencer, and I tense at the gesture. The idea of that psychotic bitch getting any closer to him makes my skin crawl. I clench my fists together and the feeling of my nails digging into my palms is enough to ground me.
           Spencer leans forward, mimicking Cat’s relaxed position. She reaches a hand out towards him, and before I can think better of it, I speak up.
           “Hands off,” I warn.
           Cat halts her movements and fixes me with an irritated expression, looking me up and down distastefully before turning her attention back to Spencer.
           “Close your eyes,” she instructs him. Spencer complies. “Good. Now keep them closed. Sit back and relax. When you open your eyes, I want you to look at me like I’m the first woman you’ve seen after being in prison for three months.”
           I clench my jaw at that. Something stirs in my chest – something foreign and possessive that has me bristling. I tense, watching closely as Spencer opens his eyes and smiles that beautiful smile at Cat. My stomach turns painfully at the sight.
           “Hello, Cat,” Spencer greets her, and all the contempt his tone previously held is gone – replaced with a neutrality that bordered on happiness.
           Cat lets out a pleased laugh.
           “You’re here!” she exclaims, throwing her arms out as she gestures about the room. “You’re really here.”
           “There is nowhere else I would rather be,” Spencer replies, sounding startlingly genuine.
           This is all an act, I remind myself. Spencer’s just playing a part. None of this is real.
           Cat crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at him.
           “You’re good at this. You’re so good at this that I almost believe that you don’t want to kill me.”
           “I don’t want to kill you,” Spencer says with a shake of his head.
           “No?”
           “No.”
           Cat narrows her eyes at him.
           “What if I let your mother die?” she inquires. “Then would you kill me? Or would you just…” Cat trails of as she leans forward. “… Hurt me? Would you pin me down and leave bruises that don’t go away?”
           I swallow hard against the bile that threatens to crawl its way up my throat. Spencer might not want to kill her, but I do.
           “Is that what you want?”
           Cat shrugs her shoulders.
           “I guess I just want to know if you would – if you could.”
           Spencer gives a small shake of his head.
           “No.”
           “No?” Cat taunts, cocking her head to the side.
           “It’s not the kind of man I am.”
           Cat’s face drops and her eyes narrow into slits.
           “Do me a favor and tell your little chaperone over there to step aside, because we’re going to play another game. And this time, we’re going to find out exactly what kind of man you are.”
           Spencer’s eyes flit to me and he nods towards the door. I open my mouth to argue, but the pleading look in his eyes has me clamping it shut. It’s okay, his eyes seem to tell me. I know you promised, but I’ll be fine.
Cat waves at me as I reluctantly move towards the door. When the door clicks shut behind me, Spencer takes it as his invitation to continue.
           “Let’s play,” his voice sounds through the speaker to my left.
           “Let’s!” Cat exclaims before resting her head in her hand.
           “So, is it the same game as last time?” Spencer inquires. “I answer every question you ask honestly?”
           “No,” Cat sighs out. “This time you get to ask the questions.”
           Spencer raises an eyebrow at her. “About what?”
           “Well, I know a secret about you. And you can ask me as many questions as you like to figure it out. But you only get one guess as to what it is. If you guess correctly, I take your phone, I call our friend Lindsey, and I tell her to release your dear mother unharmed. If you don’t…” Cat trails off, before mimicking bringing a gun up to her mouth and firing.
           Crazy fucking bitch.
           “Is there a clock?”
           “There’s always a clock.” Cat holds out her hand, eyes flicking down to Spencer’s watch. “Give it to me.”
           I cringe when Spencer hesitates – I know what he must be thinking. That’s Gideon’s watch. The only thing he has left of him. I’d never seen Spencer without it in the two years I’ve known him.
           Spencer reluctantly slips the watch off of his wrist and hands it over.
           Cat smirks and slides the watch onto her arm.
           “Now, you’ll have four hours.”
           “Do you want to give me a hint before we start?”
           Cat chuckles. “Do I look like a girl that gives hints?”            “Actually, you do.”
           Cat takes pause, looking Spencer up and down before speaking.
           “Okay, how about this; it’s a secret you’ll never admit to.”
--
           “I know what the secret is.”
           Cat quirks an eyebrow up at Spencer.
           “You do?”
           He nods. “Why else would you put me through all this?”
           “Ooh, phrasing it in the form of a question that way it doesn’t count as a guess. Very smart, Doctor.”
           “I’m gonna walk you through a scenario, and your face is going to tell me how close I am,” Spencer murmurs, an amused smile on his lips. He leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. “From the moment I arrested you, you watched and waited for the right time to take your revenge. When you learned I was going to Mexico, you took it. You and Lindsey framed me for murder so I’d be put in a prison and treated like a criminal, and then you kidnapped my mother so I would know how it feels to have a parent manipulated, because you want to prove that you and I are the same. Am I right?”
           Cat feigns a yawn in response.
           “Mm. Sorry, I couldn’t hold that in any longer. What were you saying?”
           “Psychopaths tend to get bored easily.”
           “You’re right. Let’s speed this up,” Cat sighs with a roll of her eyes. She pushes away from the table, standing up and walking over to Spencer’s side of the table. I fight the urge to barge in when I see her take a seat on his lap. Cat runs a hand down Spencer’s chest before she continues. “Shall we? What do you think about all the pain you’ve suffered in your life? What would I capitalize on, do you think? Is it… the death of your mentor, SSA Jason Gideon?”
           I can see the way Spencer’s jaw clenches and it makes my heart lurch painfully in my chest.
           “No, because we caught the man who killed him.”
           “What about Agent Morgan and your guilt over not visiting his little boy?” Cat whispers in his ear as her hands fiddle with the collar of his suit.
           “I was in prison.”
           “Yeah, but you had time before that. Why didn’t you go?” she presses as she grazes her nails down the length of his throat. I see red when her hand loosely circles around his neck. Spencer absolutely loathes being touched by anyone other than those closest to him, and I’ve no doubt that he’s horribly uncomfortable.
           “Truthfully, I got distracted. I was trying to figure out a way to help my mom. She didn’t have time. Morgan, Savannah, and little Bobby did. So, there’s absolutely no shame in admitting that. Morgan would understand.”
           “I agree. That’s why that’s not the secret,” Cat divulges, brushing her nose against the side of his face before pulling away and standing up. I let out the breath that I’d apparently been holding and allow myself a moment to run a shaky hand through my hair. If I was getting this frazzled from being a bystander to this conversation, I can only imagine how Spencer must be feeling.
           When I look back up at the mirror, Spencer’s looking over his shoulder at me through the glass. I know he can’t see me, but I can’t help but feel guilty for losing my cool.
           “Good job, Spence,” I murmur to myself as I pull out my phone. After a few rings, Rossie answers.
           “Go ahead, Y/N. You’re on speaker.”
           “Cat has an extremely deep background on Spencer. She knows about everything – Gideon’s death, Derek leaving the team, his mom’s condition,” I inform them, tapping my foot nervously against the concrete.
           “She’s throwing him off-balance.”
           “Yes, but Spencer also purposefully gave the wrong name of Derek’s son and she didn’t correct him,” I point out.
           “She must’ve gotten her hands on Reid’s confidential FBI file,” Emily chimes in. “It would mention pertinent team information but it wouldn’t name Morgan’s son for confidentiality reasons.”
           “We were thinking she’s been getting help from someone inside the prison. This goes deeper than that,” Rossi sighs.
           “Call us if she says anything else of any importance,” Emily signs off. I mumble a quick goodbye before pocketing my phone and turning my attention back to the window.
           “Working deductively, the secret wouldn’t be any of the topics you’ve already volunteered, because you wouldn’t want to make it easy on me,” Spencer reasons. He clasps his hands together and sits back in his seat before raising an eyebrow in challenge.
           “Genius, truly,” Cat taunts sarcastically as she twirls the watch around her finger.
           “So, what is left that I wouldn’t want to admit?” Spencer muses, eyebrows drawn together in contemplation. Cat shrugs her shoulders at him and another moment of tense silence passes.
           “Love,” Spencer utters, and Cat’s incessant twirling of the watch comes to an abrupt halt.
           Got her.
           “Is that what this is all about – love? For my mother?” Spencer whispers, and when Cat fails to respond, he shakes his head. “No, not for her. For you. You want me to admit that I’m actually in love with you.”
           Cat purses her lips together.
           “Don’t get me wrong – I love my fairy tales as much as the next girl – but I’m not delusional,” Cat says as she crosses her arms.
           “Are you sure about that?”
           “Very sure. So sure, in fact, that I had Lindsey leave a clue for you in that little scrapbook in your apartment.”
           I scrunch my face up at that. The clue in question had been a message inscribed on the back of an old photograph;xx-xy. We’d originally deduced that the message, the female and male chromosomes, was to confirm that Lindsey was working with Scratch. But now? Now I didn’t have a clue what Cat was talking about.
           “I couldn’t have you come all the way down here and make a guess until I was positive. That is…” Cat pauses for dramatic effect, a sly smile on her lips. “… until I tested positive.” Cat punctuates her words by placing both hands on her stomach, and the action makes me raise a hand up to my mouth in shock.
           No. There’s no fucking way.
           “What, you’re pregnant?” Spencer asks, confused.
           “No, we’re pregnant.”
           I feel my knees buckle upon hearing the admission and I blindly reach for the chair to my left.
           This cannot be happening.
           “No,” Spencer says, shaking his head adamantly.
           “Oh, yes,” Cat replies. “Mazel tov.”
--
           “Here you are, ma’am.”
           I reach for the file, my movements stilted and awkward.
           “Thank you,” I mumble to the guard, who gives me a peculiar look before leaving the room. I waste no time in flipping through the file, heart pounding wildly in my chest as my eyes skim over the page until –
           Positive.
           I slam the file down on the table.
           “Fuck!” I yell out in frustration. I’m thankful then for the thick, concrete walls, because neither Spencer nor Cat show any sign of having heard my little outburst. I place both palms down on the cool metal of the table, my breaths coming out in haggard puffs as I try to rationalize it all.
           “- not possible,” Spencer’s voice coming through the speaker snaps me out of my thoughts. I cut my eyes to the window to find Spencer pacing the room. “Even if you are pregnant, the baby’s not mine.” Spencer comes to a stop behind his chair and shoves his hands in his pockets.
           “Except for the part where it is.”
           “That’s completely preposterous. You’ve been in prison,” Spencer points out as he once again takes a seat across from her.
           “So have you.”
           “And we’ve never-”
           “I know. We’ve never…” Cat trails off with a suggestive waggle of her brows. “Ask me how I did it. Come on, ask me.”
           Spencer rolls his eyes, but he indulges her nonetheless.
           “How did you do it?”
           “I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instruction on how to get you in the mood,” Cat admits.
           “What?” Spencer snorts cynically. “Did she pretend to be you?”
           “Why, would that have worked?”
           Spencer leans forward and shoots Cat a cruel kind of smile.
           “No.”
           For a split second Cat’s face falls, but only for a moment and then she goes right back to smiling that wretched grin.
           “Yeah, I know, I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid hot or not list,” Cat sighs. “So, ask me again.”
           “How did you do it?”
           “I told her to pretend to be Y/N.”
           For a second I think that I misheard her – the blood rushing in my ears almost overpowered her admission – but the way Spencer’s entire body tenses before he looks back at the window tells me that I didn’t.
           Why me?
           Spencer gulps hard before he turns back around. I find my way to the chair nearest me and collapse into it.
           “How do you know about her?”
            Cat gives him an unimpressed look.
           “It wasn’t hard, seeing as she’s your very best friend in the whole wide world,” Cat teases as her eyes wander from Spencer to the glass behind him. She waves at me, endlessly amused, before turning her attention back to Spencer. “But that isn’t all that she is to you – is it Spencie? At least, Lindsey didn’t think so. At first, she thought the two of you were tangled up in some kind of sexy little tryst. But then I had Lindsey do a little digging, and, well, that’s when we found out about the boyfriend.”
           “Stop.”
           “Oh, it seems I’ve struck a nerve!” Cat trills gleefully. “Shall we call her in here to join us? I know she’s just on the other side of that glass. I’m sure she’d love to hear all about how pathetic little Spencer Reid pines after her like a school boy with a crush.” She pouts her bottom lip out in mock sadness. “There’s just something about unrequited love that really tugs at my heart strings.”
           Oh.
           For the second time since arriving here, my hand comes up to cover my mouth as I struggle to process Cat’s words. She can’t be right, can she? Spencer had never done anything that eluded to him seeing me as any more than a best friend. Perhaps she got it wrong. Lindsey saw me come and go and she just assumed it was something that it wasn’t. There was no way that Spencer -
           “I said stop.”
           The underlying plea in his voice is enough to make tears well in my eyes. If what Cat is saying is true, that means that Lindsey . . . 
           “All it took was Lindsey saying she was Y/N for you to crumble like a house of cards. You really made it too easy.”
           “You’re lying.”
           Cat chuckles. “Listen to you, you’re not even trying to deny it.”
           “It didn’t happen,” Spencer argues, voice so quiet that I have to strain to hear it.
           “Hey, I was thinking, if it’s a boy, we should definitely call him Spencie Jr.”
           Spencer pushes back from the table so abruptly that both Cat and I flinch, and he’s almost out the door when Cat delivers one final dig.
           “-But if it’s a girl, I think we should call her Y/N. I mean after all; she played such a huge role in in her own conception!”
           The sound of the door slamming behind him as he trudges into the room is enough to make me bolt up from my seat. Spencer comes to a stop at the center of the room, eyes wide and full of remorse as he looks over at me.
           “I-I… I’m…”
           I try my best to muster up a smile but I worry that it comes out more as a grimace.
           “Later,” I murmur, and Spencer winces before nodding his head in defeat. I walk over to the table and open up the file. “She’s not lying about being pregnant.”
           Spencer joins me at the table, eyes skimming over the document.
           “She’s three months, and the timeline matches, but that doesn’t mean-”
           Spencer yanks the file off the table and hurls it at the window, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair.
           I take a step back and Spencer curses under his breath.
           “I’m sorry. It’s not you,” he sighs. “I just… need a minute.”
           I press my lips together and nod.
           “Take all the time you need. M’gonna go call Emily,” I murmur.
           Spencer closes his eyes and lets his head hang low.
           “Yeah, okay,” he whispers dejectedly, and the despair in his voice is enough to stop me in my tracks.
           “Spence?” I call out. He looks up at me from underneath his lashes, more than a little bit timid and scared. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’m not leaving you.”
            I open the door and step out of the room, but it doesn’t close before I hear the quiet ‘thank you’ drift from within.  
--
           Spencer waits until the door clicks shut behind her to push away from the table and head back into the interrogation room. He couldn’t bear the thought of her overhearing any more than she already had. As far as Spencer was concerned, Cat had just singlehandedly ruined the one good thing he had going for him, and at this point, he had nothing left to lose.
           “Let’s pretend you’re telling the truth,” Spencer starts. “That means I guessed it, right? The secret, the one I don’t want to admit to? It’s my child?”
           Cat looks up at him with bored eyes and Spencer feels his unease begin to give way to rage.
           “Is that your guess?” Cat asks. “You only get one, remember?”
           Spencer takes pause, before shaking his head.
           “No. It’s too easy,” he decides.
           “Believe me, getting pregnant with your baby was not easy,” Cat mutters, and Spencer’s lips press into a tight line. The implication of it is enough to make his skin crawl. He feels violated and absolutely disgusted, but still he tries to school his impression into one of indifference. Spencer thinks about his mom, scared and confused, and that’s enough incentive to make him focus on the task at hand.
           “You misunderstand. It’s too easy emotionally,” Spencer explains in a clipped tone as he sits down. “Because I can take your child from you. The child I had absolutely no role in creating, but a child that I would care for better than you.”
           “That’s rude,” Cat seethes as she slowly lifts her head from off of the table.
           “It’s true. You can’t be a mother, Cat. I’m not trying to insult you – it’s your psychological makeup. You literally do not have the emotional skills to care for another human being. You’d lose interest in your own baby the way a six-year-old loses interest in a pet hamster. This baby is simply a means to an end, which is to keep me here and playing your game, guessing like a fool and assuming something that I never should have assumed in the first place.”
           “And what would that be?”
           “My mother’s already dead,” Spencer says, and the words taste positively foul in his mouth. “She was dead before I walked in here”
           Cat’s lips pull into a frown.
           “She’s not dead-”
           “Yes, she is,” Spencer reiterates as he rises from his chair.
           “No, because that would be cheating and I don’t cheat. You cheat!” Cat panics, voice growing louder the closer Spencer gets to the door.
           “I’m done playing,” Spencer says as he turns away, reaching for the door knob.
           “Get back here!”
           Spencer pulls the door open. “Goodbye, Cat.”
           He has one foot out the door when;
           “I’ll let you talk to her!” Cat yells out as she slams her fist down on the table.
           Spencer lifts his eyes up from their spot on the floor, and it’s with a jolt of surprise that his eyes meet Y/N’s. It feels to him like it always does when he sees her – like some great relief that floods through his entire body in an instant. He feels guilty for it, now that she knows, but that doesn’t stop him from basking in it. The feeling grows when a triumphant smile graces her lips, one that says you’ve got her, Spence. You’ve got her right where you want her.
           Spencer is positively rejuvenated by that smile.
           He reluctantly pulls his gaze away from her and focuses back on Cat. He’s come too far now to fuck it all up.
           Spencer pulls his phone from the depths of his suit pocket and hands it to Cat. He watches on as she dials the number, and his heart beats so fast that he wonders if she can hear it. The sound of the dial tone ringing fills the room, and Spencer can only hope that the call will be long enough for Penelope to trace.
           “You’re early,” a voice that’s unmistakably Lindsey’s calls out. Spencer lets out a shaky breath of relief.
           “Yeah, I know.”
           “Did he guess?”
           “No, not yet,” Cat sighs. “We need proof of life.”
           “All right, hold on,” Lindsey says, exasperated, and her words are followed by several seconds of muffled rustling and what Spencer deems as some sort of liquid being poured.
           “Spencer!”
           His heart practically bursts out of his chest as he lunges forward, yanking the phone out of Cat’s hand and bringing it up to his ear.
           “Mom - mom, are you okay?”
           “I don’t… know-”
           Spencer opens his mouth to reply when the gut-wrenching sound of an explosion rips through the tiny phone speakers, distorted and so loud that it makes Spencer’s ears ring.
           “Mom!” Spencer desperately yells into the phone, but all he gets in reply is a ‘gotta go’ from Lindsey before the line goes dead. Spencer growls out a string of swears, throwing his phone down on the table before leaning over the table.
           “What the hell was that?” he yells, and he’s vaguely aware of the sound of the door opening, but he can’t focus on anything other than his own rising panic.
           “I don’t know,” Cat replies, opening her mouth to continue but Spencer cuts her off.
           “Lindsey said you were early. Was that a signal?” he bellows.
           “Spence, come on,” Y/N tries to interject. Spencer feels her hand on his shoulder but he shrugs it off before bringing his fist down on the table.
           “Was that a prearranged signal to kill my mother?!” Spencer snarls, eyes wide and teeth barred. He feels positively feral, images of his mother in all sorts of terrible states of distress flashing through his mind like some grotesque picture show. “Tell me the truth!”
           “No! I am!” Cat shouts back.
           “Tell me the truth!”
           “I am!” Cat spits out, eyes flashing angrily. “You wanna know the truth? Your mother is an Alzheimer’s-ridden moron who’s getting dumber by the day and if she’s dead, it’s your fault!”
           Something comes over Spencer then, and in an instant, he’s shoving the table out of the way and pushing Cat against the wall. His hands find purchase on her throat, not dissimilar to how hers had on his hours before, but instead of dragging his fingers against her neck, Spencer’s clamping down on it as hard as he can, taking great pleasure in the way she gasps for air as his hands tighten. Everything around him fades away until all that he can focus on is that way that her pulse feels under his hands – the way it starts off strong, before tapering, slower and slower until he can barely even palpate it anymore.
           “I’m going to kill you,” Spencer hears himself whisper as he presses down hard on her windpipe. “M’gonna fucking kill you.”
           Cat’s eyes are fluttering closed now, and Spencer shouldn’t enjoy the way the light in her eyes starts to dim. He shouldn’t but he does – in fact, it prompts him to press harder and harder and –
           A harsh yank pulls Spencer away from Cat, and as soon as his hands begin to loosen Cat splutters in an attempt to catch her breath.
           “Spencer, she is pregnant,” Y/N yells in his ear, and just like that his tunnel vison fades away and Spencer feels the adrenaline leave his body. He only realizes that his hands are still on Cat’s throat when Y/N yanks at his arms again. “Fucking let her go, Spencer!”
           His entire body goes limp and he allows himself to be drug away from Cat and out of the room. Spencer’s heart still pounds and his blood is still roaring in his ears, but the satisfaction has given away to shame. He steals a glance at cat as he’s being pulled from the room, and despite her ruffled appearance, she’s grinning at him – smiling as if to say see? I told you that you were just like me.
           Spencer stumbles into the other room, steadying himself on the wall to keep from faceplanting onto the cold hard floor. Now that the adrenaline has expelled itself from his body, he’s left shaky and panting and ashamed.
           The feeling of Y/N’s eyes on him as he braces himself on the wall only exacerbates his mortification. What will she think of me now? Will she think me to be some kind of monster? Spencer wouldn’t blame her - he’s held that same opinion of himself for months now.
           Spencer stands there, face turned downwards as he catches his breath, and when he can take the weight of her gaze no longer, he darts out of the room and down the corridor.
           Being alone is preferable to being a disappointment, Spencer thinks as he flees the room.
--
           It doesn’t take long for her to find him sitting in the floor, knees to his chest with his face downturned. Spencer hears her before he sees her, and he prepares himself for the yelling that’s surely to come.
           She surprises him when she slides her back down the wall until she’s sitting beside him, legs sprawled out in front of her. He doesn’t look up – fearful of what he might see when he looks into those beautiful eyes of hers. There had been love there, before all of this happened. Not the kind of love that was reflected in his own, but it was love just the same and Spencer thinks that it might kill him to see that love replaced with disgust. So he doesn’t look. Instead, Spencer just sits there, slumped over and pathetic, hoping that she doesn’t pick up on the fact that his hands are shaking.
           “Richmond County police just reported a gas station explosion. One victim – male. Whatever Lindsey did, we have to assume that your mom’s still alive,” Y/N murmurs. Spencer lets out a shaky breath and his grip on his knees tightens. It’s good news, and he’s grateful, but it does nothing for the overwhelming guilt that’s eating away at him.
           “Hey,” she whispers when he doesn’t reply. “Can you look at me, Spence? Wanna see those pretty brown eyes. Please?”
           Spencer chokes down the sob that threatens to come out. He shakes his head. 
           “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened in there. That… That’s not me. At least, I don’t want it to be,” Spencer whispers. “Emily should’ve sent someone else with me. I never wanted you to see me like that.”
           Her small, incredibly soft hand comes to rest on his own and Spencer closes his eyes at the feeling. Y/N flips his hand over and intertwines their fingers and Spencer can’t help but think that’s she’s showing him way more kindness than he could ever deserve. But he’s selfish, unable to deny himself of the feeling of her hand in his, so he clings onto her hand for dear life.
           “I’m so scared that this is who I am now,” Spencer mumbles, prompting her grip on his hand to tighten.
           “No, Spence. Don’t say that,” she chastises him. “You’re the best guy I know. Everyone has a breaking point – Cat just knows how to bring you to yours, is all.”
           “You… You don’t know…” Spencer trails off, still unwilling to look her in the eye.
           “I do know, Spence. I may not have been able to visit, but I asked about you every day,” she says as she shuffles closer to him. Spencer can smell her perfume now, subtle and sweet and comforting. “I know that two inmates, Frazier and Duerson, killed your friend in front of you. I know that they wanted you to move heroin for them, and I also know that if you didn’t, you would’ve been next. Anyone in your spot would’ve done the same.”
           “You wouldn’t have.”
           “Hell yes, I would have,” Y/N persists, and Spencer can’t help but to look up at her from behind where his unruly curls fall into his face. “I would have, Spence. If someone was threatening my life, you bet your ass I would have done the same thing. It doesn’t make you a bad person – doing whatever it takes to survive does not make you a bad person.”
           She must pick up on the hesitancy that lingers in Spencer’s eyes, because she decides to continue.
           “You know who does think like that? That – that in you doing what you had to do in order to survive somehow makes you a psychopath?” Y/N pauses long enough to point her thumb towards the direction of the interview room. “She does.”
           Spencer watches the realization wash over her face, and for a split second he’s terribly confused. It isn’t until a ghost of a smile pulls at her lips that he catches on, and when he does, he has to stop himself from doing something terribly stupid like kissing her.
           “She does,” Y/N reiterates when she sees that Spencer finally caught on. “Because she knows.”
           “That’s the secret,” Spencer thinks aloud. He pushes himself to his feet and begins to pace down the corridor. “The one that I don’t want to admit about myself.”
           “Hold up, Spence. Let’s talk through this, because she will not lose to you twice. She already said that this wasn’t about the two of you being the same.”
           Spencer scratches the back of his next, nodding to himself.
           “Then she’s all about the game. She thinks that I cheated the last time because I lied about her dad, so it’s integral that she beats me by following the rules.”
           “But, Spence, she’s the one that makes the rules. She can change them to ensure that she wins.”
           “-Which means that I’m locked in-”
           “Like she is.”
           “She needs me locked in, playing by her rules, a game I can’t win, so she-” Spencer pauses then, and an actual, honest to God smile creeps its way across his face – the kind of smile that was only reserved for Y/N. “I got it.”
           Spencer doesn’t elaborate, because he doesn’t need to. He can tell with one look that she understands, because somehow, she always does. Spencer offers her a hand and hoists her to her feet. 
          Spencer almost laughs as the two of them step back into the room. Of course, she would be the one to figure it out. It seems like she’s always saving him, these days.
--
           “Guess that’s one way to get you to put your hands on me.”
           Spencer feels a twinge of guilt, but he pushes it to the back of his mind as he holds a hand out to Cat.
           “Dance with me.”
           Cat lifts an eyebrow at him.
           “Why?”
           “Because I don’t want the people watching to hear what I’m about to say.”
           Cat is still suspicious, but she takes his hand and lets him pull her to her feet anyways. Spencer puts his arms around her and the two of them begin to sway back and forth. Spencer suppresses the urge to pull away when her hand lowers and intertwines with his own. It’s rough and calloused and cold – a direct contradiction of Y/N’s – and Spencer positively loathes it.
           “You had eyes on me while I was in prison, didn’t you?”
           “Spencie, don’t ruin the moment,” Cat groans.
           “I don’t want to, but I’m on the clock. Answer my question, am I right?”            Cat places her head on Spencer’s chest, her hair smelling of some generic bar of soap, and Spencer wishes more than anything that he was smelling the familiar notes of honeysuckle and vanilla instead.
           “Yes, you’re right. I wanted to make sure things were just as uncomfortable for you as they were for me.”
           “That’s how you timed everything so perfectly. Like sending my mom and Lindsey to visit me when I thought I was at my lowest.”
           This piques Cat’s interest and she lifts her head up until her eyes meet Spencer’s.
           “Thought? You’re sure you weren’t?”
           “No, I wasn’t. Because I didn’t feel bad – I felt scared at how much I enjoyed poisoning the other prisoners. I had a hundred ways of getting myself out of that situation, and I picked the one that would cause them the most pain.”
           “Well, look at that,” Cat hums. “You might end up saving your mother’s life after all.”
           A moment of silence passes as Spencer contemplates his next move. Before he can get the words out, Cat breaks the silence.
           “They won’t get there in time. They must be on their way, right? Your team is too good to wait around, but you know me. I always have a contingency plan,” Cat murmurs, hands dipping under Reid’s suit jacket. She rubs her palms across his chest in slow circles and Spencer tries hard not to squirm. “They’re walking into a trap, and the only way out is if you give me your phone and you guess – right now.”
           Cat removes her hands from Spencer’s chest, crossing her arms and fixing him with a pointed look. Spencer reaches down and pulls the phone from his pocket, passing it to Cat who wastes no time in taking a seat at the table once more.
           Spencer’s skin tingles, half from anticipation, half from fear. They’ve come too far for him to misstep. He thinks of his mother – of how the next two minutes will determine her fate, and Spencer clenches his hands into fists at his sides.
           Here comes the moment of truth.
           “When we first sat down, you said you were going to show me what kind of man I am. And you have.”
           “Every time I dial a number, you’re getting warmer.”
           “At first, I was furious, because the secret had to be the baby inside you. How could it be anything else? But then I realized that somehow, you knew I liked hurting those men.” Cat dials another number, prompting Spencer to continue. “Now, I know it’s both things.”
           “So, which is it, Spencie? Come on, don’t fumble it now. You’re at the one-yard line.”
           “You’re not pregnant with my child. You got pregnant with Wilkins to put me in as compromised a position as possible. But it should be mine – I wish it were mine. Because you and I… we deserve each other. That is the real secret.”
           By the time Spencer finishes speaking, tears are steady falling down Cat’s cheeks. With a shaky hand she presses the call button, and Spencer watches on with bated breath as the phone rings.
           “Kill her.”
          When Cat receives no reply, she pushes out of her seat and begins to pace around the room. “Lindsey, I said kill her.”
           “You bitch,” Lindsey curses, sounding positively heartbroken in the way only a jilted loved could. “You’re pregnant?”
            “Lindsey, sweetheart, it’s complicated, okay?”
           “No, it’s not,” Lindsey whispers, and then the sound of the dial tone is all that’s left.
           Not a second later, Y/N bursts through the door; the figurative light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.
           “We’re clear.”
           Spencer snatches his phone from Cat’s hand before turning to face Y/N.
           “Is my mom okay?”
           “Yeah. She’s fine.”
           “We do deserve each other, by the way,” Cat calls out, prompting Spencer to pivot and face her. She slides back into the seat and shrugs her shoulders. “You guessed right.”
           Spencer falters for a moment, but then a voice in his head is reminding him that he deserves the world. And that voice sounds a lot like Y/N.
           “You lied, by the way. You were going to kill my mother regardless.”
          “Yeah, I think you really liked hurting those men. Once you cross that line, you can’t ever go back. And you’ll never get her to love you, either. You and I are too fucked up to be loved.”
           Spencer takes two steps forward before he bends down, reaching out and clutching Cat’s forearm in a tight grip. Without breaking eye contact, he slides his watch off her wrist and back on to his own.
           “Watch me,” Spencer whispers, and without so much as a parting glance at the broken women sitting at the table, Spencer walks towards the light.
--
           The elevator ride up to the bullpen is a quiet one, not unlike the jet ride before it. I had about a million questions that I was dying to ask, but I thought it best to let Spencer stew in silence. The poor guy had been through enough in the last twenty-four hours – he didn’t need me hounding him on top of all of that. Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure where to start in the first place.
           So, Spence – how was prison?
           I heard you got the shit kicked out of you. How interesting, so did I! Wanna trade war stories?
           I hate to put you on the spot like this, but was that little tidbit about you being hopelessly in love with me true? Just curious.
           As wonderful as all of those conversation starters were, I didn’t really think that now was the time to breech any of the aforementioned subjects. So, instead, Spencer and I communicated in stolen glances and shy smiles, and that more than sufficed for the time being. We had all the time in the world to talk later - there was no need to rush.
           I can practically feel Spencer shaking with anticipation when the elevator ride comes to a close, and the two of us share one last, longing glance before the doors open and Spencer steps out and into the arms of his mother.
           There’s not a dry eye in the house when Spencer and his mother reunite, and it takes Emily ushering us all away to keep us all from devolving into sniveling messes right in front of the elevator. We all scatter about the bullpen, and after a quick trip to the bathroom I meander to Emily’s office.
           “Derek Morgan – you are a sight for sore eyes,” I whistle as I walk into the room, not stopping until I’m pressed up against two-hundred pounds of rock-hard abs.
           “Ah, little bit. I sure have missed you,” Derek laughs as he presses a kiss to the top of my head.
           “To what do we owe the pleasure? I’d be hard pressed to believe that you just decided to drop in at three o’clock in the morning.”
           Derek lets out a sigh and the smile drops from his face.
           “I wish I was just here to say hello, but we may have bigger problems. I got a text from Penelope saying that Reid was out of prison and that he wanted to see me. And that he was staying in an FBI safehouse where he was putting his mother up for the night.”
           I cast a glance at Emily, who shakes her head.
           “I didn’t approve of that,” she explains, and just like that, a weary feeling settles over everyone in the room.
           “I think we all know what this sounds like,” Derek says.
           “A trap.”
--
           “I know we’re all tired, but we may have a new lead on Scratch.”
           “Somebody did a bang-up job of cloning my cellphone to send Morgan a text luring him to a nonexistent safehouse. And whoever that somebody is has mad skills,” Penelope explains.
           “The kind of skills Scratch has,” Stephen mutters, earning a round of murmured agreeances.
           “Were you able to trace where the hack came from?” Luke inquires, earning an affronted glare from Penelope. She shakes her head at him before turning to Derek, who’s watching on with a shit-eating grin on his face.
           “Do you see what I have to put up with?”
           Derek chuckles and gives Luke a pointed look.
           “Alvez, you’ll always get a location with this one.” Derek reaches forward and rubs Penelope’s shoulder, and it’s impossible to miss the way Luke’s eyes zero in on it.
           “Down boy,” I whisper at him. “Green isn’t your color.”
           “Shut up.”
           I roll my eyes good-naturedly before turning my attention back to Emily.
           “Obviously, Morgan can’t come with us. He’s a civilian now.”
           “We’ll miss you out there,” JJ chimes in.
           “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it out there in the field with you guys. I think about it every day. But between my old friends and my new friends, you guys are gonna go out there, you’re gonna handle your business, you’re gonna make people feel safe, and then you’re gonna go home. And that’s all that matters.”
           “Civilian life has turned you into a sap,” I tease.
           “Is it just me, or has this one gotten mouthier since I left?”
           Penelope pats him on the arm.
           “Someone had to fill the silence.”
           After everyone has the opportunity to tell Derek their goodbyes, it’s a mad dash to get everything we need to roll out. I pull my hair into a ponytail and shuck off my blazer, only to replace it with my Kevlar. I’m in the middle of securing the last strap as I hurry down the hall when I come in harsh contact with the front of someone’s chest.
           But it’s not just someone – it’s Spencer.
           “I thought you left already?”
           Spencer lets out a strained chuckle.
           “Uh, yeah. I was on the way out when Penelope texted and said Derek was here. Mom’s sitting with Anderson while I go talk to him.”
           I nod in understanding.
           “Good ole Anderson,” I manage to say, trying hard not to cringe at my awkward choice of words.
           “Yeah,” Spencer mutters, shuffling his feet as he looks anywhere other than my face. “There’s a case, I’m assuming?” he says, gesturing to my vest.
           “We think we have a lead on Scratch, actually.”
           Now, that gets Spencer’s attention. His eyes finally settle on me, and his brows furrow.
           “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I need to go with you-” Spencer makes a move to brush past me, put I stop him with a hand on his chest.
           “Back it up, Spence. There’s absolutely no way Prentiss will sign off on that, and even if she did, I’m still saying no.”
           “And I’m supposed to listen to you?” Spencer tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch as he fights back a smile.
           “Mm. What I say goes, and I say that you need to go home and not even think about work for at least a month. You certainly could use the break.”
           “A whole month, huh?”
           I nod, looking up at him with a faux serious expression.
           “I better not see you around here for at least that long, or there will be repercussions.”
           Spencer finally does smile at that, and I can practically see the way he’s mulling over his next move in his head.
           “Does… Does that prohibition extend only to the work place?”
           I tilt my head to the side.
           “I’m lost.”
           Spencer scrunches his nose up and his eyes dart across the hall before eventually settling back on me.
           “It’s just that, well, I don’t really know where this leaves us. Will I still see you outside of work, or is that all messed up now?”
           “Why would that be messed up?”
           Spencer closes his eyes and he lets out a haggard breath.
           “Are you really gonna make me say it?”
           Even though he can’t see me, I smile up at him anyways.
           “On any other day I absolutely would, but things are a little… hectic right now. How about we put a pin in this conversation until things slow down a bit?”
           Spencer slowly opens his eyes and they roam over my face, searching.
           “You’re not uncomfortable? Considering everything that, uh, she said about me? Especially the part that pertained to you?” Spencer asks, meek and unsure.
           I shake my head.
           “I think you’ll find that I am very much the opposite of uncomfortable,” I reply. We stand there for a moment longer, just basking in the fact that after three long, miserable months, we’re finally together again.
           Spencer opens his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by Emily calling my name from further down the hall.
           “Duty calls,” I chuckle, pulling away from Spencer. “Tell you mom I said hi, and I’ll be by to visit once you have time to get settled in,” I call over my shoulder.
           I make it a good ten feet down the hall before Spencer’s tugging at my hand and pulling me flush against his chest. He hesitates for a moment, and a flash of uncertainty clouds his eyes, but then he’s pushing it down and pressing his lips to mine.
           Spencer’s lips are slightly chapped, but so, so warm as they move against mine. My response is instantaneous – I don’t hesitate for a second before I’m kissing back. The kiss is slow and tentative, as gentle and tender as it is intoxicating. It’s everything that a kiss should be and it ignites a fire in me that has me grasping at Spencer’s shirt, desperate for more. The hand that isn’t cupping the side of my face presses firmly against the small of my back, urging me forward until absolutely no space is left between us.
           Every drag of his lips against mine acts as gasoline to a flame, and I can’t help but think that Ray Bradbury said it best. It is a pleasure to burn.
           I’m the first to pull away, but it isn’t because I want to. What I want is to stay just like this – entangled in Spencer Reid – until not an inch of our bodies lay unexplored by the other. But when Emily calls out my name yet again, I force myself to stop.
           “I really need to go,” I murmur regretfully, and Spencer nods.
           “Yeah, I know.”
           But that doesn’t stop him from going in for one last, delicious kiss. This time when we break away, it’s his doing. I don’t have the self restraint to pull away twice.
           “Pinky promise you’ll come back to me in one piece?” Spencer says as he lifts his pinky finger up in offering. I link mine with his, and I smile a dopey grin at him.
           “Of course, I will,” I reply. “After all, you and I are due for one hell of a conversation.”
           I shoot him a wink before I’m running down the hall and slipping into the elevator just before the doors close. My teammates all shoot me curious looks, but I pretend like I don’t see and I lean against the wall, trying and failing to slow the rapid beating of my heart.
           It’s Stephen who approaches me when we all file out of the elevator and into the parking garage.
           “Spencer Reid wouldn’t have anything to do with that love-sick look on your face, would he?”
           I attempt to school my expression, but one pointed look from Stephen has me devolving into a fit of giggles like I’m a goddamn school girl.
           “Possibly.”
           “Possibly my ass. When we get done with this case, I expect a full explanation,” Stephen chuckles as he climbs in the back of the SUV.
           “You gossip like a teenager, Walker,” I tease as I climb in after him.
           “What can I say? You kids keep me young.”
           I let out a loud laugh at that.
           “Best shrink a girl could ask for.”
-
-
-
If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.
           - Unknown
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deans-baby-momma · 3 years
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Once In A Lifetime
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A/N: Well guys. I guess you can say I fell down a rabbit hole....DEEP down a rabbit hole. And I’m going to blame Walker. LOL I’ve always been a Jensen/Dean girl with Jared/Sam curiosity and after a dream I had a few nights ago, THIS happened.  Now the dream was only the first part of this story, meeting them in a restaurant but them, while writing it took on a life of it’s own and I am not sorry in the least. 
Summary: During your shift as a waitress as a restaurant in Austin, you are surprised to find two of your favorite celebrities in your section. How will that encounter cause you to have a once in a lifetime experience? 
W/C: 11,138 words ( I’m not the least bit sorry)
Y/N: Your Name; Y/E/E: Your employment establishment
Warnings: ogling, fantasies, smut, p in v, fingering, v on v, oral (both giving and receiving), fisting, anal play, cum play, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, squirting, daddy kink, mama kink
"Holy shit," I exclaim before clapping my palm over my mouth as there were three adorable children in the vicinity. "Sorry. My name is Y/N and I'll be your server today," I say as I try to calm down. Jared and Genevieve Padalecki were seated in my zone at Y/E/E. "Can I interest you in some appetizers or some coloring pages and crayons for the kids?"
I can't help but glance around at the five of them. They two boys sporting the longer locks like their dad and the little girl, all dolled up with her light brown hair flowing down over her shoulders. They were three of the six most adorable kids in the world; the other three being the Ackles kids but I had yet to see them in person, only on the computer.  
“We will take some buffalo cauliflower bites and some mozzarella cheese sticks with marinara,” the loveliest voice I’d ever heard spoke. I look toward Genevieve to see her smiling at me, her brown eyes sparkling. 
“And-” I pause to swallow. “-for drinks?”
“Whatever is on tap for Jared, I’ll take a sweet tea with lemon and the kids will have Sprite,” she tells me, the smile on her face unmoving. ‘God she’s gorgeous,’ I think to myself as I write down the orders. ‘Jared is one lucky son of a bitch.’
I grin as I tell them I will be right back with their drinks and head toward the server area. I throw my pad down on the counter and lean against it, my palms flat against the granite. How the fuck am I going to get through serving them? I have had a crush on Genevieve since I watched Wildfire a few years ago. And then when I caught an episode of Supernatural and got a glimpse of Jared, I was in lust, for both of them. 
And now I had to cater to and serve them while being professional and less of a crazy fan. Yea that isn’t going to happen. I know myself too well. I’m going to do or say something that will absolutely humiliate myself in front of the two celebrities I have adored for years. 
Thanks to some tactical breathing exercises while waiting on their food and an internal pep talk, I got through serving the Padalecki family and when they asked for the bill I was a bit saddened that their visit was coming to an end. I knew I’d probably never see them again.
As I printed out their receipt I lamented the fact that the one time I met anyone famous it was at work and I couldn’t ask for an autograph or photo with them. I smiled as I gave them the sales slip and walked away. 
From my post behind the server’s desk I watched as the five of them got up and walked toward the door. Genevieve looked my way and smiled and waved as they left. I returned the gesture and giggled. 
After making sure the coast was clear, I approached their table to collect the payment and take it to the register. What I wasn’t expecting with the cash, was a handwritten note with a phone number on it. 
‘Y/N your service was magnificent. Here’s a little tip for you and a bigger one awaits, if you are interested. (xxx)xxx-xxxx. ~Gen’
Did she really expect me to call her? Was this even her real number? What kind of tip is she referring to anyway? I look at the money in my hand to see that they have paid almost $50 more than their bill! What bigger tip than that could it be?!
I waited until my shift was over and I was in the comfort of my own vehicle before I pulled the piece of paper with the number out of my apron.
Opening the text app with shaky fingers, I typed out the response I had thought of all evening.
Hey. Is this Genevieve Padalecki? It's Y/N from Y/E/E. I was your waitress earlier. 
Almost immediately my phone pings and I see that whomever I texted had responded.
Hey Y/N. Yes, it's me. Glad to see you found my note.
Yea, I did. What I can't figure out is why you left it. Did I do something wrong?
Oh sweetie no! You were the perfect hostess. Sweet, friendly, easy on the eyes ;)
Whoa, was this married woman flirting with me? This famous married woman who had an attractive, sexy, famous as well husband. 
Uh, thanks. 
You caught not only my eye but Jare's as well. We'd like to get to know you better.  Have you already gotten off? From work, I mean. Ha!
Ok, if that isn't flirting then I don't know what is. That was definitely an innuendo, right?
Yes. I'm sitting in my car.
Wanna come over? The kids are in bed. Us adults can talk without interruptions. 
Uh, okay. I'm gonna kinda need your address. I might be a fan but I'm not that kind of fan.
Gen sends me her address, along with the code to get into the gate. I realize they live in the gated community about 45 minutes away. 
I look in the rearview and notice my hair is frizzy and half of it has fallen out of the ponytail it was in. I really didn't want to show up on their doorstep looking like a charity case but then again was I going to pass up the opportunity to get to know two of my favorite celebrities?
If you aren't interested we completely understand.
Gen's message breaks me out of my reverie and I look at it, deciding what the hell.
On my way now. 
We can't wait to see you again Y/N!
I place my phone in the cupholder and start the car up, still in shock that I'm headed to the personal home of Jared and Genevieve Padalecki. 
What universe am I in?!
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I get to their house and Genevieve meets me at the door.
"Hey Y/N," she greets me with a smile. "Did you have any trouble getting in the gate?"
"No, it opened right up as soon as I punched in the code." 
Gen is dressed down for the evening. Well, as dressed down as I'm sure famous rich people can  be. She is wearing velour sweat shorts, probably some name brand designer and her t-shirt has the Family Business Brewery logo and name printed on it. 
And here I look like a slob who can't care for herself. I so do not belong here.
"Come on in," Genevieve continues as she opens the door wide. "Jared is in the kitchen making us ladies some drinks."
"Uh, I don't know. I mean, I still have to drive home later."
"Or you could stay," she says as she takes my hand and stands right in front of me. Genevieve is just a couple inches taller than I am so we are practically face to face. 
"Oh."
That's all I can say. It is glaringly obvious now what this visit is. And if I said I wasn't down for it I'd be lying!
Gen smiles as she takes her free hand and reaches behind me, pulling the tie from my hair. I feel the weight of it fall to my shoulders. 
"That's better," she says then turns and pulls me further into the house.
We get to the kitchen and Jared is standing there, dressed down also in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. I can't stop myself as my eyes run down the length of his body.
The t-shirt doesn't do much to hide the breath of his shoulders or the bulk of his pecs,  the arms of the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. As my eyes wander lower, I realize that all the rumors I'd heard about the heft and length of his 'conda were not exaggerated as I can definitely see the outline of it behind the silky material of his shorts.  But what really draws my attention is the definition of his calf muscles; even relaxed they distend from his legs, the skin taut over them.
"Hey. You made it," his voice brings my attention back to his face. "I'm Jared."
"I know," I say sincerely, internally wincing at how nervous I sound. I smile to hide the uneasiness.
"Yea, I kinda figured that out at Y/E/E by your reaction," he chuckles as he hands a glass to his wife.  "Gen wanted a margarita but we have some craft beer in the fridge if that is more your taste. It's really good. Our friends, Jensen and Dee, own a brewery."
"Family Business," I state with a nod. "I've wanted to go check it out but haven't had a chance,  yet."
"Well, maybe we can get you a private tour sometime," he tells me with a wink. "Now, name your poison."
I settle for a Cosmic Cowboy, Jared grabs a Grackle for himself and the three of us make our way to the living room.
Their house is magnificent. There are logs, de-barked, as beams across the ceiling and even the staircase is made of the same type of wood. I'd seen it in a family picture on the internet but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be inside this home to appreciate the beauty of it.
The Padalecki's and I talk for what seems like hours. We all seem to have so much in common. Eventually I had traded the beer for one of Jared's famous margaritas,  thanks to Gen's suggestion and before I knew it I was on my third one and not feeling any pain.
A smile was glued to my face and I couldn't stop giggling. I was drinking with Jared and Genevieve Padalecki! Who would have ever thought that.
Jared takes the almost empty glass from my hand and laughs at the pout I give him.
"Ok lush," he says with his own deep giggle. "If you get too drunk we can't talk about what we invited you here for."
In my inebriated state, I say words I never in a million years thought I would ever utter. "You want to fuck me."
Jared looks surprised and glances at Genevieve, which causes me to look at her as I realize what I just said.
Can you go from intoxicated to sober in less than 5 seconds? Because I just did!
"Oh my god!" I exclaim. "I'm so sorry. I have no filter when I've been drinking."
I start to fidget and prepare to be thrown out of their house. I am taken aback when Gen smiles and says, "Yes we do."
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There is a trail of clothing from the top of the staircase down the hall to where we are now. My body is being held up against the wall as Jared devours my mouth, Gen's lips on my neck and shoulder.
"You are so fucking sexy," she whispers and I whimper into her husband's mouth. "You caught my eye as soon as we walked into Y/E/E this evening. I knew I wanted you and Jared agreed."
"Let's take this into the bedroom," Jared murmurs against my lips and hoists me up by the back of my thighs, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist.
He carries me into the room with Genevieve following closely behind. He lays me back on the bed and hovers over me, his body pressed tightly to mine. I can feel his erection digging into my lower stomach.
"Jared," Gen calls in a sultry, seductive voice. "Share."
Jared pushes up off of me and Gen steps between my open knees. "Let's get these panties off of you," she says and I notice that she has already removed hers plus her bra and is standing at the edge of the bed in all her naked glory.
To say Genevieve Padalecki was beautiful would be an understatement but her nude? Well it just amped up the sexiness by a bajillion. She has no hair on her pussy, shaved (or waxed) clean. Her tits are perfect handfuls with pretty little rosy pink nipples that are erect and hardened. 
She has pulled her soft brown hair up into a makeshift bun and I watch as she reaches forward, her dainty fingers curling into the hem of my plain panties. Thank god I took the time before work to landscape!
She gasps as my equally shaven cunt is exposed as she pulls the garment down my legs and off my feet. 
"Such a pretty little pussy huh Jared?"
Jared comes back into my line of vision and he smiles at me before his eyes trail down to look at my bare body.
"So pretty," he says breathlessly as his hands come up and around his wife, his big hands covering her tits. "Bet it tastes so good. You gonna let Gen eat you out Y/N? Let her taste that sweet box."
I nod and he tsks. "Words Y/N. Use your words little kitten."
I swallow audibly and speak. "Yes. I want Gen to eat my pussy."
Gen smiles as she turns her head and kisses Jared passionately. After a few seconds though he pulls away, and pushes her closer to me. "Get to licking, baby while I open you up."
Gen bends down and I feel her hands on the inside of my thighs close to my center. The first touch of her tongue against my folds has me moaning like a porn star. She doesn't even breach my slit, just licks up the middle and then sucks on my outer lips.  
She moans and I look to see Jared has disappeared, on his knees behind her eating her out as she does the same to me. I can already feel the coil deep inside constricting. This is the most erotic sexual experience I have ever or will ever have!
When Gen does finally lick me open,  she immediately wraps her lips around my clit suckling and flicking the tip with her soft tongue. I feel a finger stroking around my entrance before it enters me. 
"Mmmmm," Gen moans and I open my eyes that I didn't even realize were closed. Jared is back in my line of sight, looking down as he notches his cock at her entrance.
He then places his hands on her hips and drives himself forward, burying inside his wife. Gen moans against my skin and I feel that coil tightening. I don't want to cum just yet so I brace against it, holding my release back.
With Jared's deep hard thrusts Gen's body bounces forward pushing her face closer into my pussy. She trades her finger inside me with her tongue and her thumb is rubbing circles around my clit as she licks my fluttering walls. 
My orgasm is bearing down and I'm beginning to fear I won't be able to hold it back.  
Jared is grunting and groaning behind her,  his eyes fixate on his wife's task of fingering me and licking my clit and labia. 
There is so much pressure between my legs I have to bite my lip to contain the scream that is begging to be released.
"Holy fuck!" Gen exclaims, pulling my attention to her. "Look babe. I have my whole hand inside her."
Jared's eyes travel to the spot and they widen as they take in the view. "Fuck! That is so goddamned hot."
Gen begins a soft thrust with her arm, twisting her wrist and letting her fingers hit my sweet spot. I see stars as I yell out. "I'm gonna cum!"
"Go on Y/N. Cum all over Gen. She wants it."
I let go and the pressure lessens as I feel my walls constrict and liquid squirts out around Gen's hand.
"God that was hot!" They both exclaim simultaneously and laugh.  Gen bends down and begins licking and suckling at my cunt as Jared continues his hard pace.
He slaps her ass twice and then stills,  groaning as I'm sure he is shooting his load inside her. Gen places her forehead on my inner thigh, catching her breath as Jared pulls out and looks down with a smile. 
"Baby you are leaking so much cum it's dripping on the floor."
When Gen moves out of the way, I get my first look at Jared's massive dick. And when I say massive,  I mean massive.  Not only is it ginormous in length but the girth is unbelievable.  How does he keep something that size hidden so well?
His hand is around the still-hard member and he looks at me as he fists up and down. "You ready?"
"Yes," I tell him confidently although inside I am not.
Gen has left the room, gone into their ensuite to clean up I'm sure. "Should we wait?" I ask hesitantly. 
"Nah, she knows I plan to fuck your brains out. She'll rejoin shortly."
“Okay,” I say with a nod and watch as Jared climbs onto the bed, walking on his knees to place himself between my legs. He is still fisting his cock, the mixture of his and his wife’s release lubricating the movement. 
“Can I kiss you?” he asks tentatively and I look up at him. He has one palm on the mattress beside my head and is hovering over me, but not touching.
I nod and then with a quirk of his eyebrow I remember his request, to use words. “Yes. Please kiss me Jared.”
Jared leans down and brushes his lips against mine softly but firmly. When his tongue touches the seam of my mouth, I open for him allowing him to lick into me. The kiss quickly becomes deeper, more passionate. My hands automatically reach up and my fingers entwine in the long locks on his head, pulling him closer.
Losing his balance, Jared falls on top of me, his hand that was holding him up, cupping the side of my face as we both get lost in the kiss. I can feel his moist, damp dick on my stomach and it causes me to writhe. God, I so desperately want that monster inside me!
The bed dips with Gen’s return and her hands run over the part of my skin that is visible under Jared’s large form. 
“You two look so fucking hot together,” she whispers as she kisses along my neck. “Y/N, you going to let Jared fuck you? Feel that big dick of his filling up that perfect little pussy?”
I can’t answer her because Jared is still kissing me senseless so I whimper and dig my fingers into his scalp. Her words are music to my ears, the assurance and suggestion  of what all he is planning to do to me all the encouragement I need. She is okay with me fucking Jared; she is actually urging it. I pull away, opening my eyes to see his hazel ones, lidded and filled with lust. 
“Fuck me Jared,” I say and he smiles as he lifts himself and grabs his dick, notching it at my entrance. 
“Ready baby?”
I nod and smile before saying, “More than ready.”
The stretch of my walls around his dick is a pleasured pain. It feels so good as he keeps sliding deeper in until it feels as if his tip is going to puncture through my cervix. I look down between us to see that he is to the root inside me and it makes me wetter, if that’s even possible. 
Gen pinches my chin between her thumb and fingers and turns my head to look at her. “Y/N, Jared is going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly. 
Gen claims my lips with her own as Jared slowly and torturously pulls out until just the head of his dick is inside me. I feel his hands grip my hips and then he plunges into me in one swift movement. I can’t help but cry into her mouth as he sits the same fast hard pace as he had with her, his dick stretching my pussy and digging in deep.
I pull away from Gen’s mouth to yell. “HOLY SHIT! OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!”
“Yea, you like that don’t ya?” Jared pants as he keeps thrusting into my willing body. “You like being impaled on my big dick huh?”
“Yes! Yes! YES!”
Gen reaches between us and uses her fingertip to rub circles on my clit, making that coil deep inside me tighten. I am going to be cumming any minute now, I know it. I can’t hold it back even if I tried.
“You going to let Jared fill you up. Pump you full of his cum until you’re leaking like I was? Yea, you are, aren’t you? You want to feel him throbbing and shooting his load into your womb.”
Her words make my eyes roll into the back of my head and I scream as I feel my climax bearing down. Without any more prompting from either of them, I once again feel that pressure from earlier and before I know it I am squirting out around Jared’s dick, my release splashing against his thighs.
“Fuck!” he exclaims as he ramps up his efforts and suddenly I feel the warmth of his cum and the throb of his length as he empties inside me, his grunts and groans barely heard over the blood pumping through my ears. 
Jared claims my mouth again, his cock still buried deep in my pussy as it softens. 
I just fucked this man while his wife watched, after having her way with me. Whose life is this?!
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My eyes slowly open as I come to consciousness. I am hot, sweaty and uncomfortable and the need to pee is overwhelming. I go to roll over but am met with resistance, from both behind and in front of me.  What the hell?
I fully open my eyes and take in the view. That is not my ceiling and this is not my bed. My mattress has never been this soft, even when it was new.  I look down and see the ivory sheets and the maroon comforter and it all comes back to me. 
I fucked Jared AND Genevieve Padalecki! I am in their bed, in their house snuggled up between them.  I had sex with a married couple; not once, not twice but three times they fucked the daylights out of me. And I enjoyed every second of it.
I squirm as I feel something moving inside me, slowly making its way out of my body and sigh when I feel a clump of Jared’s cum slide out and down my ass, landing on the sheet under me. God, he cummed so hard and so much last night, filling both me and Gen up. 
And as good as it felt, it tasted even better. Especially out of Gen’s pussy. I had licked it right up as it poured out of her hole and onto my lips and tongue and she reciprocated before we teamed up and took turns swallowing him down, his palms cupping the back of our heads as we knelt in front of him, licking and sucking his cock.
My bladder takes me out of my reminiscence as the urge to piss becomes palpable and I wiggle and shift until I am out from under Jared’s arm and go to crawl over Gen’s sleeping form, unintentionally waking her.
“Hey sweetie. Where are you going?” she asks sleepily and the torpor in her voice is sexy and sensuous. 
“I gotta pee,” I tell her and she smiles before lifting her head to kiss me. 
“Ok baby. Hurry back.”
I walk into the ensuite and quickly sit on the toilet to do my business, still reeling from the events of last night. How the hell did I end up here? And how am I going to recover from having my dreams come true? How am I supposed to go back to my normal, boring existence after such an experience?
As I finish up and wash my hands, I decide that I’m going to leave while the leaving is good. What if they regret it? What if it wasn’t what they expected? What if I was just a first choice when they decided to have a threesome? Too many what if’s and not enough answers for my taste.
I tiptoe back into their room and grab my panties from the floor, pulling them on when I realize the rest of my clothing is thrown throughout the hallway. Shit! If the kids were up and strolling around the house they would see the waitress from the restaurant in their house half naked. 
“Y/N?” Gen’s voice causes me to turn my head to see her up on one elbow looking at me confused. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Y-yea. I think that would be best, don’t you?”
“Hell no. Get your perky little ass back in the bed,” she said authoritatively. “And take off those panties. I want to be able to touch you and caress you.”
I do as she says and she scoots closer to her husband as she pats the mattress in front of her. I climb in beside her and she promptly pulls me to her, her hand cupping my sex as she kisses along my ear. She whispers, “I’m never going to get tired of this pretty little pussy,” as she begins drawing circles on my clit and running her fingers down my folds. "Could eat it everyday and never get enough.”
I whimper at her words and she smiles against my skin. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me eating you out everyday, fucking you with my tongue, my fingers, my fist. Shit, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.” 
Her fingers tease my opening before two of them slide inside, curling up to hit that sweet spot. My back arches off the bed as I moan. “Yea, you like that don’t you. You like me fingering you.” She scissors her digits open and closed as we both groan at the slick that has accumulated. 
“Cum baby,” she urges. “Come on Mama’s hand.”
My climax comes out of nowhere as Gen sits up, propping her body with her free hand as he other works me furiously through my release. I watch her with bated breath as she removes her hand and licks her fingers clean. “Mmm, tasty.”
When she is done, she leans down and kisses me, her tongue prodding into my open lips, letting me taste the sweetness of my tang on it. I run my fingers through her hair, fisting them. 
“Jesus, what a sight to wake up to,” we hear Jared’s groggy voice and pull apart, looking at him. His hazel eyes are sparkling and there is a smug grin on his lips. “I could get used to this.”  Gen turns and kisses him just as passionately as we had just kissed and I hear Jared groan, knowing he is tasting the remnants of my release. 
Ok, so maybe this wasn’t something they regretted. This was what they both wanted and still want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too. Maybe I had been the first opportunity they’d come across when they decided to have a threesome but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would gladly take whatever they wanted to give. 
And from the sounds and sights coming from the bed beside me, I was about to have another out of this world sexual escapade with two of the hottest people on the planet. 
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I’m sitting in the kitchen at the bar in my panties and a t-shirt Gen gave me drinking a cup of coffee and watching Jared move about the kitchen, cooking eggs and making toast.
A pair of slender arms wrap around me from behind, startling me. “Morning baby,” Gen purrs as she kisses my shoulder.
I tense up afraid of getting caught if one of their kids walk in. “Uh, where’re the kids?”
“It’s Wednesday. They always have a playdate with the Ackles kids on Wednesday,” Gen says as she comes around and sits beside me. “We’re good. Francine took them over and will bring them back this afternoon.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about being found out but I’m also nervous because the three of us are alone in the house. What exactly did they have planned? 
“It’s okay sweetheart,” Jared says as he sits two plates of eggs, toast and jam in front of his wife and myself. “We all need to talk anyway. And the kids do not need to hear what we have to discuss.”
Well, there goes my good feeling down the drain. Now is when they are going to drop the bomb; tell me that it was all fun and games but they’ve satisfied their curiosity and I’m on my own. God, how can I be so dumb. What made me think that two celebrities would want me to stick around?
I push the food around on my plate as I try to come up with a way to take the blow and leave with my head held high.
“Jared Tristan,” Gen admonishes. “Look what you’ve done. You went and made her feel bad. Honey,” she says as she places a hand on mine. “It’s not bad; what we want to talk about. I promise.” She leans over and places a chaste kiss to my lips. “Now eat up so we can get to it. I think you might need your energy if I’m reading this situation correctly.”
I try my best to eat as much of the food as I can with my stomach still in knots and my anxiety level through the roof. Gen clears her plate and then looks at me, silently asking if I’m finished. I nod and clear my throat. “Yes, thank you.”  
Jared grabs my hand and pulls me off the stool, dragging me toward the living room once again. Last night, this is the same exact place that they propositioned me and invited me into their bed. Now, here we are again, apparently discussing something new.
I wait with bated breath as Gen makes her way into the room, carrying her and my coffee cups, sitting mine on the table in front of me.
“First off,” she begins as she turns to look at me, one leg under her bottom. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Wh-what?” I ask in shock. Was she actually asking if I enjoyed having sex with them?
“Did you have a good time? With us?”
“Duh,” I answer cringing at my snarkiness. “Yes, I enjoyed it and I had an amazing time. And I understand if this was a one-off; something you wanted out of your systems. I get it. And I promise not to speak a word of it to anyone.”
Jared chuckles and Gen throws her head back, laughing. “Oh honey. I don’t care about that. Hell, scream it from the rooftops for all I care. We want to know if you’d like to continue.”
To say I am floored is an understatement. They are actually asking if I want to keep having sex with them? Have I died and gone to Heaven?
“Really?” I gasp. I never in a million years would have ever thought this was what we needed to discuss.
“Yes, really,” Jared tells me from the armchair. “We understand if it is too much. We, uh-” he pauses to rub the back of his neck and chuckle. “-got a little enthusiastic last night. It’s usually not that acrobatic. But yea, we want to know if you want to keep this going.”
I nod as my brows furrow and I look down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of Gen’s shirt. How can I answer without sounding too enthusiastic or overly eager?
“Sweetie?” Gen asks, leaning down to look into my eyes. “Are you okay? Is it too much?” 
The worry in her voice is what gets me. Is she actually afraid I am going to turn them down? But I have to know something first.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why me? I mean, was I just the first girl you came across once you decided to have a threesome?”
Gen and Jared both chuckle. “No baby,” Gen assures me. “This isn’t our first time doing this. We’ve had threesomes before. We, uh- should we tell her Jare?”
“She’ll find out eventually,” he answers his wife. “Go on.”
“We had a relationship with Jared’s co-star Jensen for a few months. It went really well but then we decided to end it, amicably before we all got married. He was dating Danneel but she was living in LA while he was up in Vancouver with us. And well, we fucked. Not Jare and Jen, they just uh, shared me. Although they did get close to kissing once in a competition to see who could get me off first by eating me out simultaneously.” She ends with a laugh and I look over to see Jared blushing.
“Now, that...that cannot and should not be repeated,” he says, clearing his throat. “We just got too close and our tongues touched that’s all.” He explained my unanswered inquiry.
“So, this isn’t your first time having a threesome with another guy?” I ask. “But is it a first with another girl?”
“Yes,” they both answer resolutely. “You are our first female conquest.” Gen finishes before she laces her fingers with mine. “When I saw you yesterday at Y/E/E, I liked you immediately. Even though I could tell you knew who we were you kept it professional and when I asked Jared what he thought about you, I could tell by the way he looked at you he wanted you. We both did. That’s why I left my number. Figured it’d be safer to leave mine than his in case someone else found the note.”
“It’s in my car,” I smiled at her. “I wasn’t about to throw it away.”
“See, you knew. You might have not realized you knew, but you knew me leaving you my number was a big risk.”
“So?” Jared asks as both Gen and I turn to look at him. “Is this something you can see continuing?”
“Absolutely!” I answer confidently and certain. “I will be the third wheel for you guys.”
“Oh honey, in this relationship, we are all equals,” Gen says as she smoothes her hand over my hair. “Now, let’s talk about the rules.”
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The 'rules' as I soon discover aren't really rules at all. Mostly we discuss what kind of things are turn-ons and what are turn-offs. 
I find out that Gen loves oral, receiving and giving,  whether it be male or female. She requests to be called Mama in the bedroom and is unopposed to anal play.
Jared's turn-ons include oral as well, he loves to maintain dominance over his lovers and inquired as to whether I am opposed to that aspect. I tell him an unwaveringly no. I will submit and comply with his control. 
When asked what I prefer, I shrug my shoulders. I'd never given it much thought. Sure, I'd had partners before; I wasn't a virgin by any means but to actually sit and think and come up with stuff I liked and didn't like was new to me. 
"Okay," Gen says, aware of my discomfort. "Well, we know you like oral, both giving and receiving it. And you like fucking, we are very well aware of that." She continues with a smile. "Are there any positions you're more fond of than others?"
"Uh, I like doggy style," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. Good god, I've had sex with these people and I'm getting embarrassed!
"Hey now. None of that," Gen coos. "This is a judgment free zone."
I nod, feeling more confident. "I like it when, uh...when you pulled my hair while I was eating you out. And," I turn to look at Jared. "I liked when you spanked her while fucking into her. That was hot, but not like you know,  hard or a lot of smacks but...yea."
He smiles at me and nods. "Good to know kitten."
"Anything else?" Gen presses.
"Uh, nothing I can think of right now. No, but permission to revisit this if I do think of something?"
"Of course sweetie."
"One last thing," Jared announces and I turn to look at him. "Move in with us?"
When the kids come in later with their nanny, they stop in their tracks when they see me sitting on the couch with their parents, platonically of course.
The two older ones, Tom and Shep,  recognize me and ask their mom why the lady from the restaurant is here while the little girl, Odette, climbs onto Jared's lap and burrows into his chest, peeking out and glancing at me.
"This is our friend. Her name is Y/N and she's going to be staying with us," Gen eases the information to the boys. 
The middle child, Shep, is the first one to speak. "Does she like dinosaurs?"
Gen looks at me with joy and laughter in her eyes. I smile and tell Shep, "Dinosaurs are magnificent! My favorite is the pterodactyl.  What's yours?"
The discussion between the boys and I quickly turns to which dinosaur would win if they were all in a battle to which dinosaur could survive if they were to come back alive and be in the world as it is today.
Odette finally warms up and makes her way to my side,  telling me that Mommy dinosaurs have to wear makeup while Daddy dinosaurs go to work.
I had been terrified of how the kids would accept the fact that I was going to be living with them but I had nothing to worry about. 
Kids are resilient though. They can adapt and adjust to just about anything. The three Padalecki kids have no problem knowing there is a new person living in their home but I also know the real talk is going to come after dinner and after Francine leaves for the evening.
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Gen and I work together that night, getting the dinner dishes cleaned off and stacked in the dishwasher. Every so often, Gen would glance around and then pull me into a kiss, keeping it mostly innocent and chaste. The only thing not innocent is when her hands would roam and grab a boob or my ass or one time she ran her hand down my crotch, pressing on my clit. 
Once the kitchen is cleared, the two of us join Jared and the kids in their playroom where we decide to tell them what is actually going on.
Tom and Shep were sitting on the floor playing with toy cars, making engine noises while Odette sat on her dad's lap, coloring. 
"Guys," Gen speaks, getting the boys' attention. "Can you come over here for a moment. Family meeting."
Tom and Shep get up and walk to the table and stand, looking between the three adults in the room.
"Okay, you know how we have taught you all that honesty is always best? And that lying will only get you into more trouble?"
"Yes ma'am," they say in unison.
"Okay. Well your dad and I are going to be honest with you. Y/N is not only our friend, she is our girlfriend. We like her like we like each other; like Unkie Jensen likes Auntie D. And she likes us.
"You will see us-both of us- hug Y/N and kiss her just like we do each other. If you have a bad dream at night and come to our room she is going to be in bed with us. But we will always, always make room for you.  You three are our littlest loves and there isn't anything in this world we wouldn't do for you.
"Also, Y/N is the boss as much as your dad and I are so whatever she says goes. If she tells you it's time for bed you don't try to haggle your way out of it. If she tells you you've had enough candy, you listen. She is the adult, you are not. You understand?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Okay. Do you have any questions?"
They shake their heads no and Gen smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Shep's hair and then Tom's.
"You can go play for another hour and then it's time for baths and bed."
The boys go back to their spots and continue their game.
"Well that went better than I was expecting," I say with a laugh.
"Our boys are smart," Jared says with an air of pride. 
Odette looks up at him with a scoff, which causes both Gen and I to laugh.
"You're smart too lil O," he tells her before placing a kiss on her temple. 
When it's time for baths, Tom asks that I help him so I follow him to his room where he picks out a set of pajamas and underwear. We walk down the hall to the bath and he undresses as I begin filling the tub.
"Y/N?" Tom says as he washes his hair. 
"Yea?"
"Do you love us?"
"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even. This was not a question I was expecting from a 7 year old.
"Mommy said that you like them like they like each other. And I know mommy and daddy love each other and they love us just like Unkie Jen loves Auntie D and JJ and Arry and Zeppy. So do you love us too?"
I'm not sure how to answer his inquiry. Do I love him and his siblings? Sure, what's not to love about three of the best behaved kids I have ever encountered. 
They took their Mom's news in stride, like it was no big deal that both their parents had a girlfriend, like it was normal.
"Yes, Tom. I love you and Shep and lil O. How could I not? You three are awesome," I laugh trying to break the tension. "Plus we can talk about dinosaurs without people giving us weird looks."
"Do you love Mommy and Daddy too?"
Well, there it is. The one question I was hoping to avoid because I didn't have an answer.  I don't know the answer.
Do I love Jared and Genevieve? I know I've lusted after them both for years and the three of us have had the most remarkable, memorable sex of my existence, but love? Wasn't it too soon?
"I think it is time to finish your bath before you turn wrinkly like a raisin," I tell him instead. 
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It is only a few weeks later that those three words are shared between us. 
As we are readying for bed, Gen and I doing a skincare routine in front of the bathroom mirror Jared waltz in and lifts the toilet seat, not caring to relieve himself while we are in the room.
After he finishes and he rights himself, he wiggles between us to wash his hands. We both laugh at his antics and while drying his hands he kisses Gen,  telling her he loves her  and then turns to kiss me.
"I love you too," he whispers against my lips and my eyes widen at his proclamation.
The whole world stills, the Earth quits spinning and the air stops flowing as he presses his lips to mine again.
"Y/N?" Gen calls to me and everything begins moving again. "Are you okay sweetie?"
"Uh." That's the only thing I can utter. Jared just told me he loves me.  He just dropped those three precious words like it was nothing. 
"Do you not love me? Us?" Jared asks as he pulls away and looks down at me. 
My eyes well up with tears and I can't stop my body shaking if I wanted to. 
"Yes," I answer with a laugh. "I love you so much!"
Jared wraps me up in a kiss again, deepening it as he bends me backwards.  We pull away with smiles.  
"I love you. I love you. I love you," I say repeatedly.
"I love you Y/N," Gen proclaims as she pulls me into a hug before kissing me senseless.
That night we don't fuck. The three of us make love to one another, proclaiming our love and devotion to one another over and over until we each find our climaxes together, as one. 
On Friday we decide it is time to visit the Family Business Brewery to stock up on some more beer since the supply at home is getting low.
I'm nervous as hell as today I get to meet Jared and Gen's best friends and former lover. Jensen and Daneel and the kids have been away, up in the north visiting family and now they are back and the plan is to hang out at FBB to let the kids play on their playground. 
The Ackles know that Jared and Gen have someone they want them to meet but as I find out on the way there,  they have no idea just what I am to the Padalecki's. They just think it's a new friend.
As we pull up, the parking lot is half-full with vehicles and people milling about ready to go inside and sample some the craft beer that is brewed onsite.
I look toward the building and immediately can make out Jensen's silhouette. Probably because of the crowd that has amassed around him. Being one of the main characters on the country's hit sci-fi show and part owner of this place drew a bigger crowd to the brewery than the alcohol did apparently. 
I notice that over half of the guests have some type of Supernatural paraphernalia,  be it a t-shirt, a purse, or just a photo or something they hoped to get autographed.
The crowd finally disperses and Jensen finally makes his way to us, a smile on his face and a beer glass in his hand. 
"Hey guys. Glad you could make it. Dee is inside helping Gino run the bar since we are down a person," he explains and then his eyes narrow in on me. "Hello. I'm Jensen."
"Y/N," I say with a nod.
"Jay, this is our girlfriend." Gen tells him and I watch for his reaction. He is one hell of an actor because other than a quick widening of his green eyes, he fixes his face into one of nonchalance. 
"So, you're still…..doing that?" he asks lowly before taking a drink of his beer.
"We hadn't for a while," Jared speaks up. "Since you but yea, we now share a girlfriend."
"Nice," Jensen smiles but I can tell it's not a happy-for-you one; it's more forced, more strained.
Daneel finally comes out to join us and Gen introduces me much the same way she announced me to Jensen. 
"Oh wow!" Daneel exclaims.  "I, uh, didn't know you two were into that sort of thing."
So apparently she had no idea that a few years ago, Jensen had been in my position.  Good to know as now I can be  more aware of what to say and what to keep to myself.
The day is nice in the grove where the brewery is located. The heat from the sun is abated by the gentle breeze that flows through the trees. 
Jared and Jensen, and sometimes Gen get pulled away a few times by excited fans asking for pictures of just to chat, leaving Daneel and I watching the kids.
I can tell she is dying to ask questions so once there is no one close by, I turn to her and tell her. "You can ask."
"Oh thank god! It's been killing me. How does it work? Do you all sleep together? Have sex together?"
I smile at her questions. And with living with the Padalecki's I have come to also believe the truth is better than lying philosophy.
"We love one another and we work together raising the three most amazing kids I've ever met. Well, until now; the Ackles kids are pretty fantastic." I pause to smile at her. "Yes, we share a bed each night. Sometimes I'm in the middle, sometimes Gen. It just depends on who needs the assurance and safety net the most. 
"And yes we have sex together. As with the sleeping arrangement, we take turns on who is between the other two. Sometimes Jared fucks Gen while she eats me out and sometimes I eat her out while being whaled on by the big moose."
Daneel throws her hands up and shakes her head. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I asked. That was a visual I did not need. And now it's stuck in my head."
She storms off and I can't help but laugh at her reaction. I mean, she asked after all. I just hope I didn't ruin her friendship with my lovers. 
Later that night, when I tell Jared and Gen about it they laugh and assure me that it's nothing Daneel won't get over; that she just probably will never ask me anything ever again. 
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Over the next few months, I learn just how close the Padalecki's and the Ackles' are as we tend to spend every holiday together and attend each other's kid's birthday parties.
Daneel continues to be cordial to me but doesn't inquire any further into my relationship with Gen and Jared. 
That may also be because after paparazzi got a photo of Gen and I at the store holding hands and ran with the story that Gen and Jared were obviously on the splits, the three of us sat down to an interview with People magazine and told the world that the Padalecki's marriage and relationship was still going strong and made it known that they were also in a relationship with me.
After that, the buzz of it all settled down and everything went back to semi-normal. There would be some gossip on the internet about us or we'd received unmarked mail containing threats of damnation but, with the help of my girlfriend and boyfriend, I learned to let it all slide.
People would always have their opinions. I just had to get used to them being different than my own. The world wasn't going to stop turning just because I was in a relationship with a married couple. 
A year to the day that Jared and Gen had entered my life when they visited Y/E/E found us all in the kitchen; Jared and Gen sitting at the counter while I cooked us an anniversary dinner.
"Can you believe it's been a year?" Gen says as I pull the roasted chicken from the oven. "One year since we decided to go out to eat and run into the most beautiful human we've ever seen."
"A year since you left your number on a piece of paper before we left and waited patiently for her to call," Jared continues. "One whole year of the most magnificent mind-blowing sex of my life!"
"A year since I thought you leaving your number was a prank or a mistake but texted it anyway. A year of….hell, the best year of my existence, " I tell them as I plate up the chicken, pasta and asparagus before turning and placing their plates in front of them.
"I love you both so much."
"We love you equally," Gen says before we set about eating the dinner I cooked. 
The kids were staying over at the Ackles' so we had the house to ourselves.
Jared cleared the kitchen after dinner and dessert while Gen and I went up to the bedroom to get ready in our matching lingerie that we purchased special for the occasion. 
"Jared is going to flip when he sees us," Gen says as she comes up behind me in the mirror. "Fuck, are we lucky. Sweetie you are absolutely gorgeous.  I can't wait to pull this off of you," she says kisses my shoulder, grazing her teeth across my skin. "With my teeth."
I shudder at the thought and reach back tangling my hand in her hair, kissing her passionately. 
"Same goes for you darling," I tell her as we hear Jared coming up the stairs.
Gen and I rush to get on the bed, laying back in nothing but lace and silk waiting for Jared to enter the bedroom.
"Fuck. Me!" he exclaims as he walks in and sees us. "God damn, baby girls, you're going to give this ole man a heart attack," he says, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. 
As we both promised, we put a show on for Jared; disrobing one another with nothing but our teeth and lips. 
Gen finally squirts after I bury my face in her sweet cunt, licking all around with my fingers knuckle deep inside her. Her breathing is labored as I pull away, leaving my fingers wiggling inside and turn my head to kiss Jared.
He groans as the tang of her juices mixed with my taste floods his mouth and I begin fingering Gen again, feeling her walls fluttering and quivering around them. 
"You like that Mama?" I ask as I pull away from my boyfriend. "You want more? I can recreate our first night."
"Fuck yes!" Gen screams. "Fist me baby."
I curl my fingers down and work my closed fist into her sopping wet pussy easily, twisting my wrist as she writhes above me. I lean down and suck her clit between my lips, flicking the nub with my tongue. 
"Shit! I'm going to cum again," she pants and I take my fingers and press against her sweet spot. Her thighs clamp around my head as she climaxes. 
Jared walks around behind me and I feel the swath of his tongue lick from my clit to my entrance and up to my ass. It isn't the first time he's ate me like that and it is erotic and obscene and I love it.
When Jared's tip notches at my opening, I wiggle my hips and he slaps his palm down on my asscheek. I moan as I lay my forehead against Gen's leg. Jared spanks me once more before he slams into me, burying his whole length in one thrust. 
"Oh fuck! Yes!" I yell out as he begins a pounding pace. His hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave bruises.
Gen finally recuperates enough to join in, kissing me senseless and whispering not-so-sweet nothings in my ear.
"Jared is fucking you real good ain't he? You're taking all that cock. You gonna let him put a baby in you? Yea you are, aren't ya? Get all big and round with a Padalecki growing in you. You want that? You want Jared to cum deep inside and impregnate you?"
"Uh huh," is all I can muster as Jared keeps pounding into me from behind, his balls bouncing up to slap my clit.
"Jared, put a baby in our baby girl. Fill her little pussy up."
"Yes Daddy. Please," I say, finally getting my voice.  "Please daddy put your baby in me."
"Oh god. Yea, I can do that. I can definitely do that."
"Mama?" I call out to Gen who lays down to meet my eyes.  "Are you sure? This is what you want?"
"Yes baby. I want to watch you grow our baby inside you. I love you sweet girl. And I know you'll be the best mom, you already are to Tom, Shep and O."
She smiles before capturing my lips with hers, wrapping her hand in my hair and tugging, making me whimper and whine.
Jared stills behind me as I feel his dick throbbing and spurting, filling me with his cum and hopefully getting me pregnant. It seems to go on and on before he finally slumps and pulls out of me, only to prod his softened dick back inside and thrusts, making sure the release goes where it needs.
If we made a baby together tonight or not,  I know these two beautiful people, my lovers, will be here with me through the celebration or if need be, the act of trying until we succeed. 
Six weeks later, I find myself peeing on a stick. I haven't told anyone but my period is about 8 days late and I've always been regular. 
I wait for the timer to go off on my phone, staring at the test laying facedown on the sink. Am I pregnant? Am I just late? But then if that's the case, why am I late? 
The device dings and I hesitantly reach for the test, turning it over to find out the result.
As I walk down the stairs, I hear my family in the front room laughing and just being goofy, none of them aware of what I hold in my hand. The small thin piece of plastic that is going to change everything. 
I stand at the doorway and just watch the five of them. I love them all so much and am grateful that they are now a part of my life. The kids accepted me and made me feel welcomed and loved from the very beginning and now they sometimes call me Mommy Y/N. It warms my soul when they utter those words. 
Jared and Genevieve. I never thought I could find a love like I have with them. It is an all-consuming love. They are so kind, caring and generous. The three of us are in love and we are about to bring another life into the mix. 
“Hey guys,” I call out getting their attention. Shep runs and wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach, like he knows his new little brother or sister is growing inside me. But that can’t be, I haven’t said a word to anyone much less the kids.
I ruffle his hair and he looks up at me with a smile. “Why don’t you go sit on the sofa with your parents?” I request. “I have something to tell you all.”
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“We’re having a baby,” I announce, not wanting to drag this out. I am happy, ecstatic even and I am hoping, ok I’m pretty sure this news will be accepted with joy. 
“What?” Gen exclaims, a smile blossoming on her face. “Really?”
“Yea,” I answer as I hold up the pregnancy test with the two bold blue lines. “I’m pregnant.”
Gen gently lifts O off her lap and jumps up, rushing to hug me and pulling me into a kiss. We’ve never hidden our relationship from the kids so to see their Mom and I kissing is no big deal to them.
When she pulls away, Gen looks at me with tears in her eyes. "We're having a baby?"
"Yea we are," I tell her, my own tears making themselves known. 
Suddenly Jared is pulling us both into his chest, his long strong arms holding us close.
"Where's the baby?" O asks as she looks around and in the floor. "I wann' see it."
We laugh as we break apart, going to join them on the sofa. 
I pull O onto my lap while Gen holds Shep and Tom is propped on his Dad's knee.
"The baby isn't born yet," I explain to my daughter. "He or she has to get big enough before it can come live with us. Right now, it's just a tiny little bean."
"I wann' see it," she repeats and I chuckle as I maneuver her around to straddle my thighs. I lift my shirt, exposing my stomach and take her hand to place under my belly button. "The baby is in here,  nice and warm and growing.”
Lil O’s eyebrows fuse together as she stares at the place her hand is and then she says, “Can I play with her when she gets here?”
I laugh and hear Gen and Jared chuckle.
“Of course you can sweetie,” I tell her. “But maybe not when she first gets here, she’ll be itty bitty.”
“She?” Jared says and I look at him. He practically has stars in his eyes with glee. 
“Well O called it a she so I just ran with it. Who knows, it could be a boy,” I say with a shrug. 
“I want a tyrannasaurus,” Shep declares. 
“Geez buddy,” I laugh as I look down at him. “You want me to explode? The baby is in my belly and you want it to be a dinosaur?”
“No, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Shep says, his voice remorseful.
“Hey Sheppy? It’s okay. I was just joking with you.”
“Okay,” he says as he reaches over and puts his hand on my stomach beside his sister’s. 
Before I know it I have three little palms against my skin, along with a slightly bigger one and a huge one over top of all of them; my family silently welcoming and loving on the new addition.
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By the time Tom’s birthday comes around, I am huge! Gen had warned me that Padalecki’s were big babies but this is outrageous. I can't see my feet at all and need help to get out of bed every morning. This little one is making my life miserable but I know in the end, it will all be worth it.
We had decided against finding out the gender, mainly because I was still leery about how correct those results could be. So the five of us have begun referring to the bump as Baby P. And right now Baby P was kicking my kidneys and punching my liver. 
I still have almost a month before my due date of April 11 and it seems as if time is slowing down. Every day is a hurdle to get through, with being 8 months pregnant and still trying to help out around the house and do my chores, though both Gen and Jared have fussed at me for doing too much. But I’m pregnant, not disabled.
We’ve planned a barbeque party for Tom’s birthday and invited most of his friends from school, plus the Ackles and the Morgan’s and a few others from Jared’s time on the show. Both sets of grandparents are going to be here also, so it would definitely be a full house.
I am upstairs in the bedroom, trying to slide my sandals on but having trouble since I can’t see anything. Jared walks in while I huff and try again, only to push the shoe farther away.
“Hey baby,” he says gently. “Let me help you.”
“This is ridiculous,” I whine as he lifts my leg and slides the leather onto my foot. “I can’t do anything but waddle around, running into things and just getting in the way. I’m an annoyance to everyone. Maybe I should just stay up here.”
“You hush that right now,” he admonishes me, standing up to tower over me.  “You do not annoy anyone. You do not get in the way at all. You are pregnant, carrying my baby. You’re beautiful, baby girl. I love watching you, knowing that’s my child inside you; a life we created out of our love.” He tugs a stray hair behind my ear and tilts my chin up. “I love you. Gen loves you. Tom, Shep and O love you. We all love you and we love this baby. So get over yourself and get that cute little ass downstairs to celebrate our son’s birthday.”
“Cute and little is not how I would refer to my ass,” I retort with a smile. “I look like a Kardashian.”
“Mmhmm,” Jared mumbles as he leans down to kiss me. “More to spank.”
I chuckle as I tiptoe to kiss him and then turn to head downstairs to join my family and greet our guests.
The party is in full swing as most of the adults sit in lounge chairs, talking and catching up while Jared and Jensen man the grill and the ladies are in the kitchen gathering up the condiments and sides.
I have been commanded to stay in my seat and ask for anything I need. Jared went as far as to tell me if he saw me on my feet, he would spank me in front of everyone. And as much as I love him spanking me, that was something that no one else needed to see so I kept my promise, only asking that he give me a bottle of water for my stay.
Everyone seems to be having a good time; the kids are enjoying the gigantic bounce house that we rented and sat up in the backyard, the adults congregate on the patio talking and laughing and waiting for food.
I look around with a blissful heart at the family and friends I have acquired since becoming Jared and Gen’s lover. No one seems to bat an eye anymore about our relationship and took it at face value and that made me very happy. Sure, there were a few things still being said on the internet but those people don’t matter to me. What matters to me is the ones here today, celebrating our son’s birthday. 
A pain shoots through my body but as soon as it appears, it disappears so I think nothing of it and go back to watching Tom, Shep, JJ, and a few of their friends from school run around the yard playing tag. It’s a good day.
That good day turns when later that evening while the ones of us that are still lounging around, mostly family, my water breaks. Gerald and Sherri, Jared’s parents, stay at the house with the kids as Gen, Jared and I rush to the hospital.
In the early morning hours of March 18, we welcome Delaney Grace Padalecki, a whopping 9 pound 12 ounce baby girl. 
I thought I knew what love was, what love is but until I looked into my daughter’s eyes, I had had no idea. 
Love is infinite. Love is encompassing. Love is the glue that cements us all together. And I have found that with Gen and Jared and their-our-kids and now with Delaney. There is no way my life could be any richer. A once in a lifetime encounter gave me love and a family. 
THE END
@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​
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bisexual-horror-fan · 3 years
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Sam Wescott NSFW Alphabet.
Sooo after doing Buddy Swanson alphabet of course I had to do one for Sam. Similar to Buddy I consider myself the Sam Wescott expert, again I started his tag on Ao3 and have written him the most so far so fucking here we are! I love him, the sweetest and softest slasher I am into, here we go!
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The best word I have to describe Sam Wescott is concerned. He is so concerned about you and your comfort, always. He will do anything you need on your come down. He would run a bath, would get you anything you wanted to eat, change the sheets if you so requested, he doesn't want you to do anything, he's got it under control and he would INSIST. Seriously you want something just name it and it is happening. Would love to have a shower with you post sex.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His hands for sure, no doubt about it. So much experience working outdoors, very skilled with them, rough and well worked, he isn’t the most confident guy but when it comes to his hands he is. They make him feel capable. Loves to touch you, run his hands over you, loves to feel you up with them and let’s be real the man is great at fingering.
Now for you he loves your lips, man is WEAK for kissing, will sometimes find himself staring at them while talking with you, loves the taste of you, just cannot get enough of kissing you or of you kissing him well basically anywhere. The sweet things you can say with them and listen he can’t help it if he is obsessed with how they look and feel wrapped around his cock.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Okay so I totally have this idea that a big unexpected fave of his that he never anticipated liking so much until it happened is having you make a mess of him. Like blow and jerk him off and make him cum on his own stomach and then lick it up and then his refractory period is basically non-existent.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Okay so one of the hottest things or ideas to him is you forgoing underwear in public and letting him know in some way that you have. Whether taking his hand and letting him feel or maybe a racy picture sent or flashing him with no one around at that moment and holy shit he is achingly hard.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
More than you would think! For a guy who seems so nervous and unassuming you’d think he wouldn’t have much experience but Sam has been around a bit. Much more down for a casual hook-up than you would think. Typically parties and get together where he has had some drinks to help settle some of those nerves. But more importantly he is so enthusiastic and willing to please.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
You on top. He loves it so much, to have you over him, being able to feel you up and help pull you down onto him, he loves you being able to take it at your own pace and use him however you want to find your release. Totally in awe of you riding him, put your hands on his chest as you do, lean down and kiss him or whisper things to him and fuck he won’t be able to hold back from bucking up into you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Oh the boy can do both, when he gets all flustered he is much more prone to laughing and making some jokes, but take my word for it, Sam can be so insanely sensual, surprisingly can be great at maintaining the mood. Doesn’t take himself too seriously thankfully.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Yeah totally matches, light and soft curls, doesn’t let it grow out much, trims it semi often, has never shaved and certainly never waxed and has no intention of it. Might try shaving it if you wanted him to but he wouldn’t do it unprompted. Overall great personal hygiene.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Ugh romance thy name is Sam Wescott. Like hot damn he can be the most romantic fucker you have ever come across. It is ridiculous. Would touch you with such care and reverence and would say some of the sweetest things. Wouldn’t be every time but you’d never, ever have to ask for romance from Sam.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Totally think that he has a hard time keeping quiet when he does. He just gets so into it. Also totally uses lube, like not lotion, nice lube, totally amps it up for him and I also think he edges himself, not super hard but a few soft edges he’s learned can make his eventual orgasm so much better. Legit just picture poor Sam, one hand over his mouth, eyes shut tight, moaning into his palm as his other hand is slick with lube, fisting his cock, already edged a few times and getting so close he can’t stop the sounds from spilling out? Hot.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Has a few kinks, not all but have some of the biggest.
PRAISE! This man has the biggest fucking praise kink around, both ways. Loves to talk you up so much. Please praise him, tell him what is working and what feels good, nothing gets to him more than you encouraging him vocally.
Body worship. Sam will literally worship every fucking sqaure inch of your body, hands and mouth working in tandem, just positively everywhere until you are a complete puddle. Getting you off gets him off hard.
Denial. Can’t help it, delayed gratification, and you teasing him, frustrating him, gets to him badly, makes him unbelievably hard, and after some good edging he is a total flustered mess and is leaking massive amounts of pre-cum. Is a bit embarrassed he is so into it.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Outdoors! Not like he is a huge exhibtioinist just loves being outside, some of his favorite things have happened outside. I headcanon there is this hill at Camp Clear Vista that Sam likes to sit on, can see most of the camp from there, loves to sit there and clear his head, it’s his favorite place. Late at night under the stars, just being out at camp in general, in a tent or a cabin, the forest. Also totally a fan of shower sex.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You wanting him. Showing clear desire and intent, especially if it is some place that you can’t right away. Like you whispering something dirty to him, or feeling him up, a particular look. Oof. He really wants to be wanted and desired so that gets him going like nothing else. Like you being almost desperate for him is perfection. The idea of you clinging to him, tugging on his clothes and almost grinding on him, begging him to just touch you let alone fuck you? He is on you so fast.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Degradation. Like I could not see him having it in him, does not have the heart to engage in extreme degradation. A casual flippant comment in the heat of the moment during a rougher session? Maybe. But you aren’t gonna have him doing some hardcore degrading, sorry he just isn’t that guy. Also any hard pain play either. Making you cry because it feels so good? Yes. Crying from pain? Hard no.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Oh my fucking God! So don’t ask me how or why this got started but this is my strongest held Sam headcanon. I believe that Sam Wescott is GOD-TIER at giving oral. Eating pussy or sucking dick he is too fucking good and why? How?! Not sure. He just is. Maybe it is him being so enthusiastic and willing to please but he is. I think that is what he has the most experience in. Man will stay down there all night for real if that is what you want. Also turns him on a lot, can totally catch him not so subtly grinding against the bed or palming himself while doing it. Has totally just gone down on you and jerked himself off more than once.
So much bigger giver than a receiver, but still loves, loves, loves when you give. Total mess when you do it, barely knows what to do with himself, totally lets you take the lead on that, he is big and knows it but will appreciate however much you try and take. Won’t say it but loves when you gag on it, doesn’t have to say it because it is obvious he loves it from the way his thighs tense and the strained sounds that leave him as he tries to resist fucking into your mouth.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Slow and sensual for fucking sure. Can go faster, a more steady pace but still doesn’t jump to being rough. Work him up enough and beg for it and you can totally get that from him. Can totally get caught up in the heat of the moment and really fuck you. Again a decent mix but typically slower and more sensual.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Usually likes a mid-length session, loves a longer one and is down for quickies but they aren’t his favorite. Most of his interests and kinks lend themselves better to longer sessions. Quickies are great after a healthy and hearty amount of teasing, you tease him for a few hours where he can’t do anything about it when you do get alone it isn’t gonna last super long, he won’t be able to hold himself back.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Again name of the game for Sam is pleasing you so he is totally down to try what you want, open to experiment and risk for you but isn’t gonna suggest it super openly. He does have some spicier interests and leanings but would be worried about opening up about them at the start, it takes a while for him to get comfortable with that.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Depends on how much work you put in beforehand, how much foreplay and how in need he is, how long it has been since you last were together. Can go for three or four with little issue but can be satisfied with just one. The man is fit, young and healthy, what else do you expect?
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Does not own a single toy himself, but would be down to use some with you! I could see his favorite being a bullet vibe, something small yet powerful and precise and using it to great effect on you. Also even though he wouldn’t readily admit it, if you are into it and get into it he could be down with using a paddle.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Oooo he likes it a little too much. Typically loves and prefers to be on the receiving end of it but loves to return it. Once he figures out just what gets to you he will use it to his advantage. Likes to see you being flustered in public as opposed to him for once, loves to get you to the point of begging.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Yes dear God, part of why a semi-public hook up is extra risky with him is because he has the hardest time shutting himself up. Again loves to praise and be praised, can’t help saying such sweet things to you, moaning, cursing, grunts of effort just on and on, like damn Sam can you calm down for like a sec? Cover his mouth or gag him for crying out loud, or don’t because he sounds amazing. Will still try to talk when close or cumming but it just ends up breaking apart with his moans. So good.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Oh okay so this is a fun one. I totally think his ears and neck are weirdly sensitive. You wanna see him flushed and flustered as hell and unable to stop himself from grinding against you mid-make out? That is the best way to get it to happen! The thought of it though, you initiate like that. He is sitting at the couch and you come up behind him, wrap your arms around his neck and lean in close, lips brush the shell of his ear and you whisper to him, “Hey Sammy. You busy?” and then you start to kiss his neck and he tenses so quickly. Let your hands start to roam, reach down and palm him through his jeans and ask, “Well?” and feel him up and his eyes would flutter closed and he would arch up into you, a shaky exhale and a laugh as he says “No-I uh, I’m not busy at all.”
And then it is on.
Also he is bi, it took him a long time to accept that about himself and get comfortable with it but he gets there eventually.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Oof so from all the working outside and general working out he is firm, cut, very fucking strong, the view with his shirt off is so good. Okay so for his dick, man is packing heat. I am talking eight point five to nine inches, you wouldn’t guess by looking at him. Totally not the type to brag about it and is aware extra foreplay and prep is usually needed but he loves that so it is all good. Average thickness, circumsized, pretty full balls, a good handful, you know? The sheer amount of pre-cum this man can produce is impressive, actual loads fairly regular, little thin, slightly above average amount, he has a great diet and tastes good.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Down for nearly every single day, fine with around three times a week because the sessions are longer. Would love to wake you up with oral, no better way to start his day, loves a good morning session while you are still in bed together, also quite the fan of some afternoon delight. Can be quite insatiable when prompted right and that side is pulled out of him.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Boy he makes sure you are all good but after a really, really long session the boy does get sleepy. Him checking in and making sure you are all good and don’t need anything even with his eyes slipping closed and voice all tired, adorable, endearing, loves to curl up with you to sleep. He can spoon you but loves to be the little spoon, is anyone surprised?
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Alcina Dimitrescu/f reader
+some well meaning Chris
I also posted this on my ao3 account Homoeroticmicrowave as a part of my resident evil oneshots book the link to which is : https://archiveofourown.org/works/32351686/chapters/80202100
For context in this the reader works with Chris but got kidnapped by Alcina and ended up bonding with her
Anyway behold My dignified shit post:
Alcina tilted your head up by your chin with one of her claws with a gentle sort of care “I might just be enamoured by you my little maiden” her voice had a certain air to it as the power she carried held strong though the coldness it had been coddled by withered away.
“And I am just glad to have met someone as truly brilliant as you are you make my heart feel like it’s faltering” Alcina’s tensed muscles and rigid posture seemed to deflate as her claws retracted.
“My little human girl you truly are one of a kind you are too good for this world and it’s cruelty that it afflicts you with”
Her hands incased yours as she held them so lightly ”Stay with me” Alcina’s eyes steadily gazed into your own “I want you to stay with me in this castle forever with me. I want you to marry me and be mine and let me be yours”
You almost thought she was joking but Alcina Dimitrescu would never make such a joke and to claim that she had would be ludicrous it was simply not in her nature to be so brash with her humour. However, declarations received a treatment that was a far cry to how her delicate words of amusement were handled
“I can give you a life worthy of living for you. I’ll have you adorned in whatever clothes you would see fit to clad your body and express your beauty in all of its forms, I’ll have you living a luxurious life that would make a deity envious, your every desire would be fulfilled if you only ask and I promise you I will give you everything if only to see you relish the world you live in” there was a certain warmth to her tone that she never previously expressed to you.
”It’s a pitiful world full of devastation and tyranny and I will not have it harm you from hence forth”
You released one of your hands from her gentle grasp so that your hands could reach out
“You make me feel pink and small and like I’m fluttering like my feet could rise from the ground and I’d float in the air like some sort of silly, little cartoon character when they’re smitten by someone” you felt overheated and uncomfortable as you spoke but you continued
“I would stay with you whether or not you had riches to offer me. Castles and gowns and jewellery is all very lovely but it’s not what keeps me yearning. I want you Alcina, I want you and I want to spend every moment that I can with you” you smiled despite your inability to even glimpse her face. A coward you were and yet a lovesick fool you were all the same.
“I found a home with you Alcina.” Your eyes finally reunited with hers and as she looked at you, you had never felt more loved than in that moment. “Let me be your home too….let me marry you” the words caressed her heart and she moved your arms so that they fell around her neck and she lifted you up by your waist. “I treasure every moment I have with you my love” she whispered. “Let this world we’ll build last forever”
When you had a moment alone while getting ready you radioed into whatever members of your team were still alive and had their radios still working and on them “So I’m not gonna be able to go back with you guys but everything’s pretty good so uh yeah I don’t really know how to explain the predicament- no that’s too negative a word- situation- no, no this is not a situation that makes it sound like there’s some kind of situation- what I meant to say the events that preceded my current happenings can be perceived as a little odd however everything is fine, goodbye forever”
You threw your radio out of the window and into the snow and presumed it had broke. Chances were your teammates would not have heard your message but it was still polite to let them know you were alive and well and would simply just not be joining them on their way home or anything at all again ever because you were about to be married to a giant, homocidal lady. They could be angered by your supposed ‘disrespectful’ tone concerning how you address everyone and didn’t go over formalities but you were gifted with this thing known as manner which influenced your decision to inform them of your lack of presence on the return journey before hand.
You were just considerate like that.
You gushed over the dress you had been so graciously gifted. It truly was a work of art tailored just for you. Each detail of it was made with a passionate precision that had you gawking with glee as you admired every segment of material woven into the fabric.
It was a true marvel and you felt like a piece of artwork yourself that would be displayed with great care in an art museum. You looked like a glamorous painting that was created with such integral beauty that the expertise of the artist could not be measured by any title or prideful words.
A sense of pride ghosted your senses and you found your fingertips brushing the mirror with such a light touch that you couldn’t br sure your skin had made contact with the mirror at all. You were so subconsciously convinced what you were looking into was glazed with deceit and if you touched the mirror you would break the illusion of beauty and your true form of much lesser looks would be restored. But that didn’t happen and for a moment you could sympathise with narcissus as much like them you found yourself fawning over the being of beauty that you weren’t entirely sure was yourself.
You were truly a bride who’s beauty was beyond befitting of any title that could be bestowed upon you and you thought yourself to be belonging with angels of artwork, your place was dancing with the muses who were worth more than simple adoration and worship.
You weren’t a god but you were blessed by Aphrodite’s touch and you were sure simple folk could not help but be too mesmerised to experience jealousy at your envious appearance.
If it were a sin to be enraptured in revelling in your own appearance than you would relish the hellfire that rained down to scorch your flesh and soul. You’d paint such a pretty picture dancing in the misery of hell gifted by sins. Lucifer had treated you well and you thanked them for gracing you with what God couldn’t.
Alcina’s voice rang out like a dove from behind the door and lulled you away from the mirror your attention had been stolen by. “Perhaps you could be so gracious as to adorn me with your presence”
You turned to face the direction of her voice “of course anytime my love” you said earnestly.
“I won’t look at you now nor do I want you to see me just yet but I couldn’t help but to speak to you just for a moment beforehand…I want it to be special my dear and I won’t want for it to be any less special than either of us want for it to be because you deserve everything you want and yet lover I find myself needing to be selfish and needing to hear your voice”
”Alcina it’s okay” you couldn’t help but to let a giggle escape you “I can’t help but feel nervous to see you and yet I can’t wait to I love you and tonight is special because it’s our night it’s special because it marks the first day I get to be with you forever”
You head Alcina let out a small laugh tainted by an agitating anxiousness. “So do I”
You felt breathless as you stepped out into the night. Donna your apparent personal seamstress and now flower girl guided you to where it would take place.
Alcina stared as though she had witnessed something that couldn’t be explained by any science or rationality. While she herself was a sight to take in when she saw you she felt as though her childhood dreams were coming true as you seemed mythical.
When your eyes met her you felt like you were falling and you didn’t want to stop. Not for a moment. She was gorgeous. A wedding dress perfectly fit for her graced her elegant features. She looked ethereal and you wanted to reach out to touch her. Each step you took seemed so slow. Far too slow for your liking. You wanted to be in her arms and soon.
When you did finally meet her while tradition forbid you to kiss her just yet you at least reached out to hold her hands. Your eyes glistened with joy all of the love you had barely fit in your body as it threatened to burst out of you in bounds of laughter and tears. You felt so much and you wanted to feel like that forever. You wanted for this moment to last forever. You wanted to be held by her forever.
Your hair seemed so gorgeous and lustrous in the glowing moonlight. Fairy lights decorated the trees surrounding you and fireflies twirled in the breeze. To think you would see such beauty and wonder in what had once been a placed that had brought you such terror and havoc.
Alcina held you tenderly as though she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. She wouldn’t be isolated in that feeling as you were swarmed by disbelief, you didn’t shun all of the conflicting emotions you were feeling. Not for a moment. You welcomed them and you couldn’t help but tingle with the relief of any negative thoughts or surprise being overwhelmed with ecstatic delight. You had thought of marriage in the general sense before when considering where the events of your life might lead you and while it wasn’t conventional not anything close to what you could have ever expected you would gladly spend the rest of your days residing in Dimitrescu castle with Alcina. She really was one marvellous woman.
You had insisted on certain songs being played at your wedding from fun songs you had once joked about being played at your wedding to irresistibly romantic guilty pleasures that you would have been teased mercilessly for an infinite amount of times had you ever admitted you would want played. But that was in another lifetime and while Alcina may not always understand certain aspects of your interests she was always glad to watch you indulge in them.
You two danced, chests pounding with a romantic joy you had never thought existed in the way you felt it. As your arms wrapped around her neck as she lifted you up you couldn’t help but think how a much younger version of yourself would feel giddy at knowing how in love you were. Though knowing your child self the word ‘gross’ would also most likely make an appearance as the topic of love.
You admired every detail of her face and when you kissed her you thought about how you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with her. However long you had would be amazing as long as it was spent by your side whether it be one day or one hundred years you wanted to spend it all with her. You had been bewitched by her and you couldn’t be happier.
Then your moment was interrupted by the sounds of gunfire. Violence and stubborn hatred truly had a way of ruining even the most kindest and beautiful of moments.
Alcina scooped you up and ran, throwing you over her shoulder and quickly moving so that you may escape the presence of aggression and be safe in the sanctuary she made for you.
Over her shoulder you saw Chris running, bullets blazing as he ran with a determined rage. You thought he would have been long gone by now. You had convinced Alcina to give up her part in aiding Miranda’s plan. Surely you could convince her to let these people leaves unscathed.
You moved in front of Alcina, attempting to quell her anger and bitter bloodlust with promises of trust and hope. You begged her to at least let you try to form some kind of truce so that you would not have to live knowing people you cared about destroyed each other. Hesitantly she let you go. Though her reluctance was apparent and she looked so eager to snatch you up and lock you far from those who put your life at risk.
You left the castle and approached the direction you were adamant Chris and probably his team would soon be.
Geez he really went to the effort to risk his life searching for your and stealing you back with him all so he could lecture you on your lack of formality and far too casual tone when you had radioed in as well as your blatant disrespect, poor execution of the mission and your inconsideration of the expense of the property you had been given. Sounds about right. It was a mistake to attempt some kind of means of communication really. And now look what happened your wedding was ruined.
You raised your hands up to show you meant no harm when Chris and found and approached you.
There was a moment between Chris properly processing you were there and him first catching sight of you where it felt like everything had been put on pause. He eyed you suspiciously as though you were some sort of distraction, a part of a malicious scheme Alcina had made in order to proficiently destroy any hope of Chris’s rescue attempt and mission succeeding.
”Hey” you waved awkwardly in a hopeless attempt to break through  the immense pressure and tension of the situation “nice to see you’re still alive and stuff that’s cool” your voice rang out through the silence. “I’m alive too which is fun looks like we have that in common”at that point you were just throwing dumb words at him in a blatant attempt to get him to respond in a way that wouldn’t suck.
Chris grabbed you and pulled you into a vice-like hug. You felt him lift you up “It’s good to see you….Where is that thing? What did that bitch do to you?” He seethed.
”Nothing she actually had a pretty good sense of hospitality-did you come here on your own without anyone-“
He had you back on the ground but his grasp never left you as he shifted his grip so that he now had a steady hold on your shoulders. “This isn’t the time to act like nothings wrong if you’re injured or you’ve been drugged with something you need to tell me” his hold on you was just as secure as it was when he hugged you even if he no longer had you squished against him.
“I’ve not been hurt really I’m not lying to you Chris” you looked him in the eyes and tried to communicate with your facial expressions that you were telling the truth.
Chris sighed slightly but nodded “good, we need to leave we can continue this conversation when we’re safe-“
You put a hand on his chest to put some distance between you both “look Chris I’m- I’m not leaving. I’m staying here” Chris looked a mixture of perplexed and horrified.
He stepped closer to you so he was practically leering over you “what are you talking about! We’re going. Now.”
“No Chris I’m not. I love Alcina and I’m not leaving her. I won’t. You can leave I’ll make sure she won’t come after you just as I made sure she no longer interfered with Ethan finding Rose but I won’t go with you”You stared defiantly at him as you stood as tall as you could despite him towering over you.
”Alcina? Is that what that bitch got you to call her!You think you love that thing! Jesus Christ what did she do to you!” Chris looked disgusted at your words.
“Hey man I don’t ruin your weddings do I the least you could do is let me go back to her-“ Chris held your arm tightly preventing you from leaving as he radioed into someone.
”I’ve acquired S/n. Clearly they’re under some kind of influence- they must have been brainwashed or put in some form of hypnotic state!” Chris hypothesised to the person on the other end of the radio upon your immediate reluctance to leave. The moment you suggested you had no interest in leaving he stopped talking directly to you. “We’ll meet you there soon we’ll need a medic and possibly some means of restraint for them” he tucked the radio back into his pocket and turned his attention back on you.
“I’m all here I’m just genuinely okay to stay here” you implored him to recognise that you were in fact all there.
Chris ignored your attempts to defend your sanity and slung you over you shoulder. “Fuck are you doing!” You yelped at his sudden action.
“I don’t know what that freak did to you but I won’t let you suffer! I won’t leave you in this hell hole! We can fix this I promise!” He seemed so genuinely concerned and you understood why but you just needed him to listen. You knew how ugly this was going to end up if he didn’t.
”Stop calling her that! You know nothing of her! There’s nothing to fix! She’s been nothing but kind to me! Please just put me down and leave!” Your pleads were wasted as he stopped responding to you.
Panicking you thrashed in his stone like grip even going so far as to try to bite and scratch him. He grunted in response to your little attack and repositioned you so that you couldn’t easily hurt him and if you did you wouldn’t do much damage.
Your fears were ignited when you heard Alcina’s voice rampaging through the wind. Chris cursed and you began begging you to put him down and leave you. Unfortunately, he interpreted your words as an attempt to sacrifice yourself for his sake, which he refused to go along with.
He didn’t let go of you as he began running and quickly grabbing a gun which he fired at Alcina with a precision you wish he lacked. You started screaming begging for them not to fight but your words crumbled as your weeping shouts were overpowered by the insatiable violence that inevitably occurred due to both parties refusal to attempt any form of reason.
While you understood the motivation both of them had and if you heard one perspective by itself you could easily side with it if the other one remained unknown to you.
Chris set you down by a tree after tying you to it. You blubbered through your messy tears that he needed to stop and listen to you for just a moment. You were desperate for them to stop before it was too late but just as always you were ignored as Chris left you to fight Alcina.
Your thoughts flurried as paranoia and fear truly sunk in and you were sure one or both of them would die. As you were sure you would lose everything to the cruelty of bloodshed. Time seemed to drag on and you struggled to release yourself from the rope that held you securely. You were so sure that one of them were dead as horrific sounds seeped into the cold night air.
Your fears proved true when you heard Alcina’s screams rattle throughout the air. Your breath hitched. What just happened-
Your head snapped at the sound of footsteps and your whole body felt like it was burning as you saw Chris’s weathered face.
He untied you and lifted you up into his arms that seemed to tremble ever so slightly. “What-what just” you could barely get the words out of your mouth. It couldn’t have possibly meant what-no there had to be some other explanation. Any other explanation.
”She won’t hurt you anymore” with those words you fell a part.
Chris remained silent as you sobbed. He just kept walking. He was sure you were just experiencing some kind of false mourning as the result of whatever Alcina had done to you. And yet guilt threatened to creep at the doubt that teased the back of his mind. He held back his thoughts and focused on getting you home.
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asthmark · 4 years
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❝ comfortable ❞ l.mk
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synopsis → “oh, i’m mark. mark lee.” he gives her a lop-sided grin, reminding you of a high school boy. the kind you would have a crush on.
word count → 3k
a/n → instead of admitting to the fact that this has been in my drafts since october what if i just said i was watching superm interviews and got inspired.. would anyone believe that??? anyway superm on the ellen show was a fever dream lol
your leg bounces nervously as your makeup artist touches up your look and you stare at the tv screen in anticipation. you were finally making your television debut. you knew you were blessed for the wonderful opportunity, especially for how new you were to the music industry.
you had started like nearly every other artist; posting covers on youtube. these were well received and gained a good amount of views and likes but your career really took off when you began creating original content. every time you would release a single, it would make it on the trending page thanks to your growing fanbase and exposure to the general public, who seemed to like you. soon enough, requests to interview you whether it be on radio, tv, or magazines were high and, thanks to your managers, you found yourself in los angeles, backstage in a studio, waiting for the ellen degeneres to introduce you to her live audience and thousands of viewers at home.
“don’t move so much, miss l/n,” the woman trying to apply your highlighter comments. “you’re smudging your makeup.”
you force yourself to sit still as you apologize. “sorry. pre-show jitters.”
the woman smiles, emphatically. “i understand, sweetheart. i would be nervous too.”
you’re quiet for a moment, debating if you should continue conversing with her. “can i be honest?”
she hums as she dabs a beauty blender into your cheek. “go ahead.”
“i am so nervous that i’ll mess up or say something stupid. the only thing close to an interview i’ve ever done was a q&a on my youtube channel. and at least i could edit stuff out then.” you huff. “if i make some kind of mistake on my tv debut, my career will be over before it even started.”
“well, think of it this way,” she says. “you went from a moderately popular youtube channel to the ellen show. that doesn’t happen for no reason. there are people out there who really admire you.”
you chuckle in disbelief. “it’s crazy to think about people actually wanting to see me. i still can't believe it.”
she giggles, softly. “they know there's something worth seeing.” at seeing your small smile, almost as if you were barely realizing your own star status, she laughs. “you seriously gotta wake up, girl. you’re famous!”
you smile at her, finding humor in her words. “thanks for the wake up call.”
you both direct your attention to the tv placed backstage that broadcasted what was happening on stage. you listen in to ellen’s monologue as she tells jokes and addresses current topics. before long, there’s a knock on the doorframe. you half expect a staff member to let you know that you’ll be on soon but instead you hear a quiet, “hello?”
you and your makeup artist both turn to the boy standing in the doorway. he's wearing a black jacket paired with dark, ripped jeans held up by a belt. he goes to bow, then remembers that korean etiquette does not apply and decides to wave as a greeting instead. you reciprocate the gesture. he stands with only one foot inside the room, almost as if he’s too polite to enter without being given the okay.
“did they send you to get your makeup done?” the woman who had done yours says.
he nods. “they said something about concealer and bb cream, i think?”
she smiles. “yeah, it’s basic stuff. come on in. what’s your name, dear?”
“oh, i’m mark. mark lee.” he gives her a lop-sided grin, reminding you of a high school boy. the kind you would have a crush on.
“well, mark lee, i’m lily. i’ll be doing your makeup, making sure you look pretty for the cameras.” she motions to you. “i'm just about done here so i’ll be right with you.”
“okay, thank you.” he shuffles in, his eyes glued to you and you hold his stare. he nods, a wordless greeting as he settles in next to you. in return, you throw up a peace sign and he smiles at your casual behavior.
“you know what? somebody used all the setting spray. i’ll be right back, i’m just going to steal some from my co-workers.” with that, lily darts out of the room.
it’s pure silence between the two of you until you spark conversation. “i didn't get to introduce myself but i'm y/n.”
“i know,” he responds, quickly. “i'm kind of a fan, actually. i mean, it’s practically impossible to not be. you’re all over the place. especially with the new single you dropped... which is a bop, by the way.”
you smile at his simply-worded praise. it was a nice switch up from the professional reviews you received from critics. “that’s so cute. i’m honored.” you miss the way mark’s ears turn slightly pink at your words. “but enough about me, what do you do, mark?”
“oh, me? i’m in the k-pop scene.”
you hum. “that’s a good genre to be in. which group?”
“right now i’m promoting with superm, it’s kind of like a side project. but originally, i’m in a band called nct.”
you lean forward at hearing the familiar name. “nct? as in, nct 127?”
mark’s eyes light up. “yeah! you know us?”
you nod, enthusiastically. “oh my god, yes! you collabed with ava, right?”
“we sure did. are you guys close?”
“i help her write lyrics sometimes.” you lower your voice down to a whisper for dramatic effect. “i wrote the chorus to ‘sweet but psycho’.”
the way mark’s jaw drops is almost comedic. “no way! that song got her famous, dude!” his lips curve into a playful smirk. “just because of that i’m gonna have to get you in the studio.”
you return the mischievous look. “is that a promise?”
“i’m back!” lily announces, giving mark no time to respond. she gives no warning as she spritzs you with the bottle she had gone to retrieve.
you cough, choking on the mist. “no heads up?”
“sorry, dear. you’re on in two minutes, no time to waste.”
you feel a chill go up your spine. it was finally time.
mark nudges your arm. “you okay?”
“a little nervous.” that proves to be the biggest understatement of all time because in reality your heart is doing somersaults.
“hey.” you stare at him, his brown eyes boring into you. “you’ll be fine. there’s nothing to worry about. you got this!”
you smile at his words of encouragement. he cared about you and you find that your heart is pounding for an entirely different reason now.
“i'll be here to cheer you on while you’re out there and i’ll be back when you’re done to tell you how amazing you did, okay?”
you nod.
“now get out there!”
“well, we have a great show for y’all today,” ellen says, clasping her hands together, having just finished her monologue. “i mean, it’s always great but the exciting thing is we have two musical guests today.”
the audience that cheered wildly is shown on screen. you almost forget about the knot in your stomach when you see some people in the crowd wearing shirts with the cover art and quoted lyrics of your last single.
“i see you guys are ready so, without further ado... let’s get started. our first guest is a soloist who has made quite a big name for herself in such a short period of time. she currently has three singles on the billboard charts, her most recent music video is number one trending on youtube, and she has a new ep coming out soon. here for her television debut, please welcome y/n l/n.”
you walk out from behind the stage, a huge smile on your face. the crowd screams and you wave to them until your hands become too occupied hugging the hostess who greets you with open arms and a proud smile. once the hype dies down and your entrance music fades out, you take a seat, opposite of ellen.
“how have you been y/n?”
“amazing,” you respond, letting your hands fall neatly in your lap.
“and why is that?”
you sigh, wistfully. “everything has been going so well for me lately. i mean, i feel like all these doors are opening up for me all of a sudden. i think i finally made it.”
“you’re just barely realizing that?” ellen exclaims.
you laugh, along with the audience. “kind of, yeah. it just all happened so fast.”
“is there an experience that comes to mind where you finally realized how famous you are?”
you try to think for a few moments before your eyes light up. “okay so, i was at a mcdonald’s like, last month and i went through the drive thru and ordered some nuggets and fries. so, i pull up to the window to pay and it’s around 2 a.m. so the cashier guy is super out of it, like he’s not even paying attention to me. finally, he goes to grab my card and he gets a good look at me and just freezes. like, full on shuts down. so i ask him if he’s okay and he nods so i try to hand him my card again but he goes, ‘no, you’re famous, you don’t have to pay’. and in that moment i just knew.”
“hold on, pause,” ellen announces, dramatically. “you’re telling me that you have been nominated as artist of the year, gained over ten million followers on social media and made your national television debut but the thing that really made you say ‘wow, i’m famous’ was a couple of chicken nuggets?”
“ellen, c’mon,” you begin, seriously. “it was a twenty piece.”
“oh, well, that changes everything,” she says, playing along with you, as the audience erupts into laughter.
the rest of the interview goes smoothly, running on jokes and sarcastic energy. you discuss your young age (thus resulting in some of your baby pictures finally being revealed to the world), millennial culture (the crowd went wild when you explained terms such as netflix and chill to ellen who claimed she didn’t understand yet her sly smirk said otherwise) and your upcoming ep (that you would be giving a sneak peek of later on in the show).
you continue chatting once the commercial break is announced and ellen showers you with praises, commenting how young talent never failed to amaze her, although it did make her feel old. you get to thank the hostess and tell her how much you appreciated her sweet words and the opportunity she had given you before the crew is dragging you backstage so you can prep for your upcoming performance.
you’re greeted by a “that was awesome!” and a high five one you get backstage.
you flash mark a full smile. “couldn’t have done it without my hype man.”
just then lily walks in to touch up your makeup.
“and my hype woman!”
she just rolls her eyes and chuckles as she reapplies gloss to your lips. 
“seriously though, y/n. why did you have to be so perfect? the bar is all the way up here now.” to emphasize his point, mark raises his arm as high as it will go.
“hey, i only tried hard because you’re up next. you’re a hard act to beat, mark lee. i mean, you’re charismatic, charming, witty; basically every talk show host’s dream.”
he scoffs yet you see how he avoids your gaze, your compliments obviously flattering him to the extreme.
a staff member walks by, cutting your conversation short. “y/n, you’re back on in one. superm is on right after.”
you and mark turn back to each other, speaking the same two words at the same time.
“good luck.”
ellen introduces you again, only this time you hold a guitar and stand in front of a microphone once you’re back on the stage. you perform a never before heard song but judging by the roaring applause and standing ovation you receive by the end of it, it’s another successful hit.
you bask in the amazing response and then you’re ushered backstage for the last time. you catch sight of the staff placing more seats on the stage as you exit and you smile eagerly, knowing exactly what’s to come. you search the hallways for your new friend, hoping you can catch him before the show goes back on air. you’re almost about to give up when you hear your name being called.
you lock eyes with mark who stands a couple feet away, barely hidden from the audience’s view. even from where you stand you can tell he has a nervous smile on his face. you jog towards him and to your surprise, he envelops your figure without a second thought. in return, you tentatively wrap your arms around him.
“great job,” he murmurs, breath fanning your ear. “i really did cheer you on.”
“i’ll make sure to do the same.” you hesitantly pull away from his embrace, holding him at an arm’s length away. “go get ‘em.”
he gives you a determined nod and you watch him rush on stage, the audience’s wild cheering increasing. their energy didn’t fade once throughout the interview and just as you had suspected, mark was doing wonderfully. he clearly thrived in interviews; his awkward, boyish nature enchanting everyone in the studio, yourself included.
ellen crosses her legs and clears her throat. “so, i have to ask you something, you know, for the fans.”
the group leaned forward in anticipation, awaiting her next words.
“are any of you dating?”
the crowd released noises of amusement at hearing the very personal question. you can’t help but feel intrigued although you knew ellen has always been quite the invasive person. you watched as the seven boys looked around at each other, unsure what to say but before their silence can become suspiciously long, mark ends up taking the question.
“why are you always so curious about this, though?” he blurts.
the audience absolutely eats up his response, cheering at his bluntness. even you find it humorous, shoulders shaking with a chuckle. that’s definitely gonna become a meme, you think.
“it’s my job!” counters ellen. “why are you so defensive?”
the crowd is very responsive to ellen’s rebuttal, ‘ooh’ing in amusement.
mark’s silence only pushes the hostess to continue teasing him.
“does it maybe have anything to do with y/n?”
your smile drops. had she seen you two? you’re not sure why you feel so exposed; after all, you had just been talking.
ellen’s lips adorn a sly smile at mark’s stunned reaction. “you seemed to be getting very comfortable with each other backstage.”
the black haired male stumbles over his words before he gets a semi-coherent sentence out. “we just, um—we just met.”
“oh really? you two looked like you had known each other forever.”
mark chuckles breathlessly, eyes glued to his lap, obviously at a loss for words. ellen stares at him expectantly so he mutters, “i like making friends.”
ellen, the audience, and even some of the band members laugh at his response.
“well, i’m sure there’s a lot of fans out there that wish they were your ‘friend’.” her tone makes it clear she doesn’t buy his excuse but she prods him no further, instead turning to stare into the main camera. “when we get back superm will be performing their title track ‘jopping’. during the commercial break, please feel free to place your bets as to how long mark and y/n will remain ‘friends’.”
the camera pans to mark for a couple seconds; his ears are bright red and his cheeks are dusted light pink, his makeup doing nothing to help hide the blush. his eyes dart around, anxiously and then they cut to commercials.
you shake your head, smiling at the entire situation and just how big of a dork mark was.
you attentively watch superm’s two performances, eyes mostly glued to a certain rapper. you sit patiently in the makeup room, waiting for mark to return backstage so you can congratulate him but he never appears. you try to conceal your disappointment, even when lily enters the room, smiling brightly.
“well, the show’s over, doll.” she removes her makeup stained apron and glances at you as she places it on a nearby rack. “hey, why the long face?”
you stare at your reflection in the mirror, no longer bothering to hide your pout now that your frustration had been made known.
“you did great, if that’s what you’re worried about. just ask mark.”
“he left,” you mumble. “i thought i’d be able to catch him before he left and we could… i don’t know, talk a bit more? i just really—” you trail off.
“like him?” lily suggests, too loudly for your liking.
your head snaps towards her, eyes wide, only confirming your feelings.
“don’t worry, dear, you can say it. i won’t tell ellen,” she jokes.
you sigh and slump down in your seat. “yeah. i like him.”
“well, then, i have good news for you.”
you half-heartedly hum, allowing her to continue.
she waves a piece of crumpled paper in front of your face. you grab it from her, staring at it curiously.
“what’s this?”
she nods her head at it, encouraging you to find out for yourself. “open it and see.”  
you obey, unfolding the tiny item. your eyes struggle to read the words inside but if you squint, they become clearer.
please call, me i would love to become closer ‘friends’.
(xxx) xxx-xxxx
it’s mark btw :)
you can’t contain your smile at the cute little note.
“he’s adorable,” you say, mostly to yourself but lily audibly agrees.
“he ran into me as he was leaving and begged me to deliver that message to you. which reminds me, i’m supposed to let you know that he wishes he could have stuck around but his schedule is ‘crazy tight’ so he had to ‘dip’. his words not mine.”
you nod, grin widening. “thanks, lily.”
“my pleasure. nothing like young love.”
you give her a glare although it’s all but threatening.
she folds her arms, teasingly. “so, are you going to give him a call or what?”
you’re sure she sees the phone in your hand and the way your fingers press the numbers on the keypad, excitedly but nevertheless, you decide to answer.
“i’d be crazy not to.”
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wheezy-kasp-brak · 4 years
Text
Team Zero (Hargreeves Siblings x Sibling Reader)
Summary: After being sent back in time and finding their father, the eight academy kids have ‘A Light Supper’ with him.
A/N: This is a really gross, unedited page because I really wanted to write this scene. I wrote this in only a few hours and I think I could’ve done a crap ton better but I really wanted to post this so...
Warnings: season two spoilers, mild swearing
Word count 2589
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gif credit to @tuagifs​
After the draining argument with their siblings, the last thing y/n expected to receive was a letter from their father. 
To my pursuers, 
I, Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, half past seven o’clock, 1624 Magnolia Street.
They had received the letter from a strange man in a black car. At first, y/n hesitated to believe it was really from their father but they knew their father better than anyone, even Luther despite what he thinks.
The level of extra Reginald went through to get this letter to them told them all they needed to know so, on the 20th of November, 1963, they arrived at 1624 Magnolia Street just before half past seven. 
The building was a tall hotel and the decor very much fit the era they were living in. They wandered towards the back where they slipped in an elevator next to their brother five. Not too soon after, their other siblings joined them in the small box. 
“Good, you’re all here” Five face sported his usual smirk and his body language screamed cocky arrogant asshole however, everyone remained quiet on the lift up to the highest floor. 
That was until a rather rancid smell reached their noses. “Ugh.. Luther!” 
“Sorry, I’m nervous.” The group covered their noses until the doors finally opened, allowing them to take a deep breath of fresh air. 
“Alright, when dad gets here, I’ll do the talking.” Fives natural attempt to assert himself failed quickly when Diego snapped back. 
“I got a few questions for him myself.” 
Y/n rolled their eyes. The seven of them never seemed to be able to enter a room without starting some kind of fight or argument. “Hey, we don’t wanna scare him off alright, he might be able to help us stop doomsday, get us home.”
“No Five, we need to figure out why he’s planning to kill the president.” It’s amazing how hung up on the presidents assassination Diego is, why can’t he just let this go? 
“This is a matter of life or death you imbecile.” Sensing that their other siblings were about to chime in, y/n zoned themselves out. Y/n isn’t exactly what you called a team player. They chose to stay quiet and disassociate themselves from their family. Sick of the overbearing weight of having to save the world when they could be doing other things, like being a normal person. 
Unfortunately for them, they were soon snapped out of their focused state by a loud crash. What appeared to be some kind of decoration was found shattered in small pieces on the other side of the room. 
“Classic.” Allison spit. They all turned their heads when they heard another noise. The doors to the ‘Tiki Lounge” swung open revealing a younger Hargreeves. His posture stood tall and didn’t give them a single glance until he sat at the table, adjusting his sleeves.
“Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me, but you have on numerous occasions, called me...”
Klaus finally joined the table with what seemed like some alcoholic beverage. “Hey Pop. How’s it hangin’?
“...dad.” His voice was stern, slightly scary, but more just assertive. The seven children took a moment to all create eye contact before returning to their younger father. 
“My reconnaissance tells me you’re not CIA, not KGB, certainly not MI5, so...” he paused to slam his pen to the desk, “who are you?” Everyone stayed silent trying to find the right words before five cut in again. 
“We’re your children,” Reginald gave him a displeased look, “We’re from the future.” Dear old Reggie didn’t seem all too happy with the idea of having children, so when the group stayed silent once again y/n finally spoke up from their seat. 
“In 1989, you adopted us all and trained us to fight against the end of the world. You called us the umbrella academy.” The sudden joining of the conversation brought all the attention to them. It surprised the rest of their siblings, seeing as y/n normally just minded their own business. However, they supposed this was their business. 
“Why on earth would I adopt seven-”
“Eight. One of us isn’t here.” Allison corrected.
“Dead. One of us is dead.” Diego filled in the answer to what they assumed Reggie’s next question would be.
“Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba. Enough of that now.” Klaus spun in his seat, talking to what looked like an empty chair to the rest of them. 
Could he just be quiet for FIVE MINUTES.
When he spun back he noticeably shuddered and then it clicked in Klaus’s head. Ignoring the attention from everyone at the table he pushed his chair out and violently pointed his finger at y/n. 
“Hey! Get out of my head!” Everyone now turned their looks back to y/n. They had no response other than slouching down into their seat and turning their head to focus back onto the decor. 
Reginald took the silence as an invitation to begin speaking again, “Regardless, what would possess me to adopt eight ill-mannered malcontents?”
“We all have special abilities.” Five explained.
“Special?” Reginald Questioned, “In what sense?”
“In the super power sense.” Luther finally joined in on the conversation. 
“Call me old fashioned, but I’m a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence. Show me.”
“Everybody wants to see powers all of a sudden.” Allison proceeded to scoff before she was cut off.
“We’re not circus animals, okay? We’re not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap like seals for your amusement.” Luther attempted to accentuate his point  by literally clapping his hands together. That’s when Diego pulled out a knife and allowed it to slice through the air and around Reginald’s head, sinking into a support post behind him.
Reggie decided to pull out his pen and begin writing in one of those god-awful leather bound notebooks he constantly wrote in when they were younger. They all leaned in, upset that he was doing it again. 
“What’re you writing?” Diego asked.
“You are zero for two, young man.” At that statement Diego immediately pushed out of his chair, lunging towards their father. However, Five was much faster using his spatial jumps. He managed to flash in front of Diego, effectively preventing him from being shanked by their dad again. 
“Stop!” Fives voice was no louder than a whisper although they all still heard him. 
“Now that is interesting.” Reginald noted aloud. Once Diego was 'calm’ again. Five relaxed, walking back to his seat.
“All right, uh, quick rundown-” 
“Luther, super strength. Klaus can commune with the dead.” As they gestured to Klaus once more their siblings shocked glances paused them once more.  
They’re face scrunched up. “What? We all know Five’s definition of quick.” Their sass earned them chuckles from everyone at the table apart from their very loving brother, Five, and their very loving.... father. 
“Anyways,” They continued, “Allison can rumor anyone to do anything-”
“Yea, except she never uses it.” This time it was y/n who was cut off by Diego. That comment caused Allison to give him a pointed look.
“I heard a rumor, you punched yourself in the face.” Diego’s eyes turned white and his fist soar through the air and hit his nose straight on. His groan from the pain echoed through the room and Reginald adjusted himself in his seat, clearly unamused and slightly concerned.
This time, the academy kids held in their laughs worried Diego might be the one shanking them.
"And y/n has the power to read minds.” Five attempted to finish the conversation however they all forgot about the sibling who most recently discovered their powers. “And you?”
To this, Vanya lifted her head and everyone’s amused looks soon turned nervous. 
“Uh, maybe we don’t take Vanya for a test run.” Luther’s voice was laced with fear and the table tried to agree with him however Vanya seemed to think differently. 
“It’s fine. I can handle it.” She reached forward for a fork and glass. 
“Handle it?” Allison asked, “Last time you handled it, you definitely blew up the moon.” This time, the six siblings tried to stop her and braced themselves for the impact of what might be the end of the world... again.
Once the fork hit the glass she focused in on the ringing noise and allowed herself to blow up the fruity centerpiece, sending chunks of pineapple and mango flying everywhere. 
While they all tried to wipe away the fruit on their clothes Vanya just let out a small “oops.”
“Look, we know you’re involved in a plot to assassinate the president.” To that, Reggie quipped back at Diego.
“You were recently hospitalized, isn’t that correct?” Diego sputtered at the statement. “You still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia.”
Diego, pissed off, pulled out a photo of him. “Am I?” He asked, standing up. The photo revealed to be-
“That’s you. That’s two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the presidents gonna get shot.” Reginald slowly picked up the photo, looking at it for a moment. 
“Well... I suppose you’ve solved it. You’ve single-handedly unearthed my nefarious plot.” Y/n was taking it in. They supposed that’s what Diego wanted but, there was sarcasm. A lot of it at that.
“Is that what you wanted to hear?” They knew it. “You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion. The sad reality is that you’re a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man in over his head.” At this the table was stunned into silence. 
Diego allowed one tear to slip out. It rolled down his cheek in solidarity. “You’re wr-r-r-wrong.” He managed to finally stutter out. 
He’s right.
Diego’s body shivered. He quickly whipped out another knife and flung it across the table, stabbing y/n’s upper arm. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” His voice was laced with venom and seemed to shut them out of his head. 
They pulled the knife out of their arm and pressed a thick napkin to the wound. The knife clattered back across the table. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to stab your sibling?”
The group stayed silent until Five spoke up. Shocker. “Look, forget about the president. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it.”
“Why? Men will always be at war with each other.” Reggie tried to reason.
“No, this isn’t just some war. I’m talking about a doomsday. The end of the world.” 
“Well.. You’re the special ones aren’t you?” The group proceeded to glare at him. “Why don’t you band together and do something about it?” 
Unbelievable. 
The siblings collective annoyed thoughts were soon cut off but their brother, Klaus. His body was suddenly jolted forward, shaking violently. His air way seemed to be cut. They all sat concerned and puzzled. 
“Y/n is that-”
“No, I don’t know what that is.” 
“Is he having a seizure?”
“Overdosing probably.” Diego muttered. All of sudden a voice and thoughts flooded Y/n’s mind. They were so loud. Y/n pushed their chair back, standing up. Their hands flew up to their ears, as if covering them would stop the words flowing through their head.
“Klaus, Y/n. Now is not the time. What’re you doing?”
The noises only got louder. “I’m...” His voice was strangled and chalky.
Reginald had quite enough of whatever was going on. “Well, out with it boy.”
Klaus took a deep breath and finally spit out, “...Ben!” He soon gasped and fell out of his chair. He continued to shake here and there and allowed a few groans to get out but none of the above concerned any of his siblings enough to do anything. 
“Well...” Reggie trailed off, “thank you for coming. I’ve seen about enough.” He stacked up his books and climbed over Klaus’s convulsing body. 
“No, I-” Luther tried to speak up, however Hargreeves kept walking. Luther, upset he didn’t get to say anything the whole time he was here, slammed his fists down onto the table. That certainly gained the room attention.
He ripped his shirt open revealing his ape like skin. “Look at what you did to me! Look at it!” Allison nearly spit out her drink and and Five let out an “oh, shit. Why?” with a solid eye roll and slouched into his chair. 
“Okay then. Anybody else wish to embarrass themselves this evening?” Nobody moved, obviously not wanting to embarrass themselves. “I guess I’ll-”
“No.” Y/n shook their head. “You don’t get to walk away after that. You don’t get to just leave after destroying our lives and blaming it on us. You forced us to dedicate everything to saving the stupid world and the stupid people who live on it. I never.. We never wanted to do that. We didn’t get a choice to be who we are, so, because you are the one who disfigured our existences, you are going to be the one who helps get everything back on track.” Out of breath, they finally looked up and locked gazes with their father
“If anyone disfigured your lives, it was yourselves.”
“Really? That’s all you have to say?” They paused before continuing the rant, “You know, Reginald, I don’t think I’m the one who forced myself to become afraid of people because their thoughts were so loud. Leading me to dissociating myself from my siblings and the people around me. In fact, I don’t think any of us would be this fucked up had you just allowed us to be our own people with a family and parents who actually loved us. Who wanted to dedicate their time to furthering us in life, not just using us for their own advantages.” 
“I’m sure whatever I did was to further you in life. I wouldn’t waste my time on something that I was sure to fail.” Hargreeves looked around the room, noticing the mess of a ‘family’ sitting in front of him. “Clearly, I had a miss in judgement.” 
At that he finally turned to leave the room. “You in the culottes?” He motioned to Five. “A word, in private?” Five followed suit leaving the six of them disheveled and wondering what to do next. 
The ring of the elevator doors sounded around them. “Well, that went as good as any Hargreeves family function.” At that Y/n zoned out again. Maybe they didn’t want to but that’s what they had practiced after so many years. Pretending like their siblings weren’t even in the room with them. 
“Where’d that whole speech come from, Y/n/n?” Allison added them into the ‘conversation.’ 
“Oh, um, I suppose I was just sick of allowing him to get away with whatever he wanted to.” 
“That’s one way to put it.” Diego harped on their response, clearly still upset about Y/n entering his head. 
The elevator doors finally opened once more, letting them escape the hellhole of a family meeting they just adjourned.  They all flooded into the hallway not making any eye contact. “Team Zero my ass.”
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victoria-daydreams · 4 years
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Something’s Gotta Give
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Chapter Three: Tea for Two
AN: Honestly, I should be asleep as I post this chapter, but if I delay this any longer I think I might rip my hair out (not really). If there are any mistakes, I’m sorry, it’s 3am and I’m bleary eyed. Anyways, thank you to everyone who has supported this story! I really didn’t think anyone would enjoy it but myself.
Chapter Four: A Frightful Dinner
Summary: What should’ve been a fun and simple dinner between Livia and Booker takes a dark turn when she discovers a startling secret about him.
Having a cup of tea with each other became a weekly ritual for Booker and I.
And from tea, sometimes we swap over to coffee, where I discovered that Booker makes the best coffee known to man. He always made my cup of coffee sweet, rich, creamy, and added a dash of cinnamon to top it off. It's so perfect, I'll never look at coffee served in cafes the same anymore. Regardless of the beverage we were drinking, Booker and I always made sure to bring food for our little get-togethers. When its my turn to bring the food, I usually buy pastries like eclairs, macrons, pain au chocolat, etc. I couldn't help myself, I've got quite the sweet tooth which Booker commented on clearly amused once he noticed the trend. While Booker opted to bring sandwiches and quiches, which were a lot healthier than my choices.
At first, our little “tea parties”, as I liked to call them always took place in my apartment, but as the weeks passed and Booker grew more and more comfortable with me, he invited me to his apartment for the first time for a cup of coffee. To my surprise, when I entered Booker's apartment, it was not shrouded in darkness like I previously believed, the space was actually well lit.
Unless, he had the lights on and blinds opened for my benefit.
But you know what, I wasn't going to complain about it. The mere fact that Booker felt he could trust me by letting me into his personal space brought me indescribable joy. Each week over tea or coffee, a new subject was discussed. One week it's about books, the next about traveling, the following about daily life, and so on. Truly, it was a very gratifying experience to see how our relationship had blossomed. Not too long ago it felt like I had to pull teeth to get Booker to speak to me or I had to decipher his body language to determine if he was even comfortable speaking to me.
But now, conversations between us flowed naturally.
However, I have noticed that other things have changed between Booker and I. Well, at least for me it has. As of late, I would feel my heart start racing and beat like thunder whenever I would spend time with him. I would find myself studying Booker's features instead of listening to what was coming out his mouth. My eyes would move from down his nose, across his cheeks, around his jaw line, and at his lips. Heat would always flush my face and down to my neck when Booker called my name to snap me out of my daydream.
I couldn't help it, from the jump I said the man was handsome, but I didn't think I would catch feelings for him.
It certainly didn't help that our hands would innocently brush against each other when doing simple tasks, for example, doing the dishes together. Or the way he would lightly place his hand on my mid-back to usher me into his apartment after we've came back from the market. I always felt like I was set aflame every time Booker and I made contact with each other. I began to wonder if Booker had caught onto my growing feelings for him, he hadn't said anything or treated me differently. But, at times I would feel Booker's gaze linger on me when he was supposed to be reading, like the time when I was detangling my hair or when I was drawing in my sketchpad.
There's also the fact that Booker brought me flowers one day when we were having tea. They were roses, yellow roses to be specific. He told me the roses reminded him of me because of their warmth. And don't get me wrong, I damn near gushed over the beautiful, sun-colored bouquet of roses because I hadn't received such a gift in god knows when, but I also had mixed feelings about the flowers. Yellow roses symbolize friendship and I was left wondering one single question.
Did Booker just politely friend zone me?
~~~x~~~
"When I invited you over for dinner I was hoping you would actually help me make it," Booker quipped, looking over his shoulder.
I chuckled a little, "Hmm," I hummed, as popped the last bit of cracker that had fromage fort spread across it. "It seemed like you had everything under control," I replied, a smile on my face.
If someone had told me that by the end of this day I would be having dinner with Booker, I would tell them they were crazy, hell I might even laughed at them. Having a cup of tea with Booker is one thing, but to eat dinner together, it's different, more intimate. When Booker invited me over, I had just finished putting away groceries and was about to make dinner myself, but in stepped Booker. It was quite adorable when he asked to have dinner with him, in my opinion. He was clearly nervous, he stumbled over his words a few times. Whether it was because Booker is still a slightly reserved man, which meant doing this was uncharted territory for him or it was the possibility that he also had feelings for me was unclear.
I hoped for the latter.
"Do I now?" Booker asked, turning around and folding his arms across his chest.
My grin widened, "Undoubtedly," I said, with a laugh.
Feeling a bit of cheese on the corner of my mouth, I took my thumb and wiped it off before placing the speck of cheese onto my lips. Booker's eyes darted down to my lips and I had to force myself to keep a straight face as I felt a slight increase in my heart beat from Booker’s lingering gaze.
"Maybe it was just involuntary," I thought.
I picked up my wine glass, "But since you're begging me so much, I guess I have no choice but to help," I joked, standing up from the kitchen chair and taking a sip of the dry wine.
Booker faced the counter again, "Your kindness knows no bounds Livia," he deadpanned, resuming his work on slicing the mushrooms up.
I walked up to him and placed my hand on the back of shoulder, at first his body tensed before his muscles relaxed.
"What would you like me to do Chef Booker?" I questioned, my lips curving into a smile.
He rolled his eyes at the title, but still a smirk made its way onto his face, "Can you chop the broccoli please?" he asked, motioning to the vegetable to the side of him.
"Gladly," I replied, removing my hand from him and placing my glass down.
I moved over to the sink and turned the faucet on, pumping soap into my hands I placed them underneath the warm water, giving them a good scrub. Drying my hands on a towel placed on the sink, I took my place next to Booker and began chopping the stalk of broccoli.
"In the month and a half that I've known you, I've noticed a difference in you,” I stated, still cutting the broccoli up.
Booker glanced over at me, "Like what?" he asked curiously, dumping the mushrooms into a pan on the stove.
"Well for one, you don't look so haggard," I commented, placing my knife down and picking up the cutting board.
"Haggard?" Booker repeated, breathing out a laugh. "Wow, Livia," he chuckled, taking the board from my hands and tipping the broccoli into in the pan as well.
"Wait, let me finish!" I said, laughing myself now. "There's a glow to your skin. I can sense a newfound joy in you, an emotion that you believed would never return," I continued, and from the corner of my eyes I saw Booker still. "And your eyes," I breathed, shaking my head. "Your eyes always conveyed to me of a man who lives in silent misery. Your eyes would say what your mouth would not," I explained, my voice taking on a softer tone. "But now, I can see a small shine, a little glimmer twinkling in your eyes," I finished, turning my head slightly to look at Booker, who seemed to be stock still.
Silence swept over the small room, apart from the sounds of the vegetables in the pan sizzling and the wind outside softly rustling the colorful leaves on the trees. My heart began hammering in my chest, the elongated silence from Booker made me nervous. God, I hope I didn't say anything that offended him.
I cleared my throat and brushed the bangs of my hair away from eyes, "I don't know, maybe I've been reading too many of those poems you suggested," I guessed, chuckling while shaking my head.
A warm, rough hand covered the top of mine and my head snapped up to look at Booker.
"I guess, it's kind of hard to remain gloomy when you have a neighbor that is the personification of a ray of sunshine, annoyingly persistent as she may be," Booker teased, looking down at me with sincereness in his eyes and a small smile gracing his lips.
I playful bumped his arm with my own, "You love it though," I teased back, sticking my chin out.
"I do," he agreed softly, stroking his thumb back and forth across my hand.
The gesture sent shivers down my spine and goosebumps raised on my arms. Booker's exquisite blue eyes were locked with my rich brown orbs. The proximity between us was making it hard to breathe, all Booker had to do was lean his head down a little further and—let me not get ahead of myself.
"More wine?" I squeaked out, trying to regain my breath subtlety.
Booker smirked, almost as if he knew the effect he had on me, "I would love some," he answered, giving my hand a squeeze before removing it to work on the garlic bulbs.
I turned around, a grin on my face as I held my hand against my chest. I made my way back over to kitchen table, a slight spring in my step, to where a bottle of unopened wine was located. Grabbing the corkscrew, I jammed it into the top of the bottle and began twisting the knob a few times until the familiar and gratifying loud pop of a wine bottle being uncorked echoed throughout the room. It startled me, but at the same time a satisfied smile grew on my face until I heard Booker swear loudly behind me. Immediately, I placed the bottle down and turned around to see little red droplets dripping from Booker's fingers and onto the floor.
"Oh my god Booker!" I exclaimed, rushing to his side.
"It's nothing Livia!" he insisted, cradling his bloody hand as he moved towards the sink.
"Nothing?" I repeated, disbelief clear in my face. I moved in front of him and grabbed his wrist to show him the severity of his wound. "Booker, your palm is split wide open!" I pointed out, my tone turning frantic "We need to go to the hospital!" I stated, releasing his wrist and turning around to grab the towel from the sink.
"Livia-"
"Here!" I began, spinning back around to face Booker. "Use the towel to...." I instructed, but slowly trailed off as my eyes widened at what I was witnessing.
My breath began to quicken, becoming shallow as I watched the skin on Booker's palm draw itself back together. The towel fell limply from my hand and onto the floor with a soft thud. Slowly, I raised my hand and covered my mouth in horror as I watched tendon by tendon mend itself, and at that moment I felt my stomach lurch and a strong wave of nausea hit, forcing me to place a hand on my stomach in order to calm it down. The deep laceration on Booker's palm inexplicably became a mere scratch before the scratch itself simply disappeared.
As if Booker never injured himself in the first place.
"What the hell!" I whispered, my eyes still glued to Booker's his hand. The image of his palm knitting itself back together flashed in my mind, making me slightly gag. I lifted my eyes to Booker's who's face had gone ashen and was contorted with unease. "What the hell was that?" I asked, my voice once again not above a whisper, but the panic laced through the question couldn't be clearer.
"Livia, I can explain," Booker stated slowly, reaching his bloody hand out to me and taking a small step in my direction.
My eyes slightly widened again and I recoiled backwards, my back running into the cupboard. I tightly gripped the counter as I watched Booker's shoulders deflate like a balloon losing air, hurt was evident in his eyes at my reaction to him and a sad frown formed on his face. The silence was deafening in Booker's apartment, the only thing I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears. I slid my body along the cupboard, reaching down to snatch my coat from the chair that was next to it.
"I-I need t-to go," I announced shakily, avoiding Booker's stare.
Hurriedly, I moved to the door and made haste of the lock on the door, nearly yanking the door of its hinges as I left.
"Livia, wait!" Booker called, and I thought I heard movement behind me. "Please!" He pleaded.
My hands fumbled around in my coat pocket for my keys, but finally managing to grab them. I nearly sprinted towards my door even though it was only a short distance away. My hands trembled as I inserted the key into my door and jerked the key hard, twisting the doorknob and pushing my door open. I entered my apartment straight away and as I went to shut the door I paused, glancing at the apartment door across from me. Out of nowhere, the sound of glass shattering across the hall made me jump back, causing the door to slam shut louder than I intended it to. I slid the deadbolt lock into place and did the same with the bottom lock, leaning my forehead against the door, closing my eyes.
I flipped around with my back against the door, slowly I slid down the door and covered my face with my hands.
"What the fuck did I just see unfold in Booker's apartment?"
Chapter Five: Avoidance
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