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goldentournesol · 4 years

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Be Careful What You Wish For

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Spencer gets exactly what he wished for, but it isn’t necessarily for the best.

Length: 5k

A/N: this is based off of maybe one of the best requests i have ever received, thank you so much anon, your request really got my creative juices going! also i combined this request with another one, too <3 (angst, just straight up, with happy ending tho)

masterlist

The sun was shining against the glass windows of the car. The sunset was so beautiful with its melting and merging colors, Y/N wished it lasted longer so she could watch it. It’d been feeling like beautiful moments were few and far between lately.

No one ever said being in a relationship was easy, but she’d never expected to drift this far from Spencer. She couldn’t exactly place the moment at which the descent of their relationship began, if she was being honest. One day, they’d be happy, smiling, full of love and life. And then the next, waves of darkness and despair would appear. They weren’t even the kinds of waves that would disappear with the shining sun. No, they were there to stay and fuel the storm that continues to rage on.

Today was one of those days. To be fair, the whole team was struggling, but Spencer had taken Morgan’s departure a little harder than everyone else. It was understandable, of course. Derek was a staple in Spencer’s life for so long. However, for a man who’s seen and been through so many losses, he sure was terrible at dealing with them. Spencer’s tendency to keep things bottled up had definitely been affecting the overall health of their relationship. In fact, it has been the root of a lot of their arguments lately. Y/N just wanted him to let her in, let her help him and she was willing to wait however long it takes. Spencer on the other hand grew more and more snappy, irritable, and private with each passing day.

When they were at work, they tried their best to avoid each other so as to not get on each other’s nerves. Their fights usually didn’t turn into screaming matches, but they both had a track record of saying things they don’t mean. Hurtful things. Turns out profilers are fantastic at rubbing salt into open wounds.

Ever since they began dating, Spencer took the subway less, opting for car rides with Y/N. Sometimes she’d drop him off, other times they’d spend the rest of the day at each other’s houses. She enjoyed driving him around, at first he was never too picky with the music she played, but later on, his music began to overtake hers. It never bothered her, in fact, she took it as a sign of him being vulnerable and sharing parts of himself.

The days where car rides once filled with joyous singing and laughter were coming to a shocking halt. The silence nowadays was almost always louder than the music they used to play. Even small talk felt like too much of a burden sometimes.

“Should I just drop you off at your place? Or do you wanna come over to mine? I still have some of that lasagna you liked in the fridge.” She asked softly as they slowed down into traffic. Rush hour in DC was never fun.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just have whatever’s at my place.” Spencer was being curt with his responses. Thus, the warning signs began flashing in her head.

“Are you sure? We can even pick something up from that one grocery store on our way home, something that goes well with the lasagna. I don’t mind cooking today.” She offered, hoping he wouldn’t shut her out like he usually did.

He shook his head, keeping his voice eerily level and his gaze was set on the road in front of him, “I just really wanna be home, Y/N.”

She nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

A short silence ensued as traffic began to thin out. Cars that were stuck bumper to bumper were beginning to move.

“Is this about Derek leaving?” She asked tentatively. He sighed and pursed his lips in response so she continued, “You know he said he was always a phone call away.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Spencer said shortly, gazing out the window.

“You never want to talk about anything.” She said defeatedly, the car beginning to move freely on the road.

“Yeah, well maybe that’s true. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.” Spencer spat, clearly growing impatient.

“Fine, don’t talk to me then. But talk to someone, anyone! Hell, talk to Derek himself. Tell him you hate him for leaving or whatever you’re feeling, but don’t take out your anger and unresolved feelings out on me, okay? I don’t deserve that! Everyday I try to get you to talk to me, but it seems like with every little step I take forward, you take two steps back. And it’s exhausting. It is fucking exhausting, Spencer.” She frowned, tears welling up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

“I didn’t ask you for that! I didn’t ask for you to be my personal therapist. If I wanted to see a therapist, I would have gone to see one!” Spencer gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke.

“Spencer, in a relationship, we’re supposed to confide in one another. It’s supposed to be comforting. I don’t want to be your therapist, I just want you to talk to me!” She unconsciously began to press on the pedal, perhaps in an attempt to reach a destination quicker. He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Relationship? You call this a relationship? We can barely stand to be in the same room together, Y/N.”

“And that’s why we talk it out. No relationship is ever perfect! You should know that, Spencer!” She shrieked, gripping the steering wheel in frustration.

“That’s not true. What I had with Maeve was perfect until it was ruined.” He uttered.

“Maeve?!” She squealed incredulously, “Really?! What you had with Maeve was perfect?! Spencer, what you had wasn’t real like us! You spoke to her over the phone once a week! You wrote to her in letters, where you have time to-to think and to respond! It isn’t like real life, it isn’t like you and me! What we have is real! I-I’ve lived with you, I’ve seen you torn to pieces, I’ve seen you laugh until you cry. That’s the you I fell in love with, not some fantasy I created of you over the phone!” She spoke but the words were garbled between incoming sobs that she was frantically wiping the remnants of off her cheeks. The same sobs she’d tried so hard to suppress. She was barely aware of the words that came out of her mouth.

“If what I had with Maeve wasn’t real, then why do I wish she were the one here with me instead of you?!” Spencer defended, unaware of how sharp his words were or how deeply they’d wounded her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, taking her already blurry vision off of the road in front of her to face him, “What?” She whispered brokenhearted, but the utterance was immediately swallowed by the unmistakable, earsplitting sound of metal clashing violently against metal. They had no choice but to succumb to the inundating darkness that rapidly overtook them both.

***

Spencer woke with a violent start and sat up in his own bed. He sighed in relief when he realized it was just a dream and it was morning again. Turning his head to look at the left side of the bed where she usually slept, he expected to find her there and was taken by surprise when she wasn’t. He rubbed at his face and eyes vigorously before hearing some clattering in the kitchen. With long strides he saw a blurry figure in the kitchen making coffee and walked towards it.

He sighed in relief, “Hey, there you are. I just had the worst dream.” He huffed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck in his half-asleep state.

“Hey, good morning, lovebug.” She smiled and turned around to hug him tightly.

Something felt off. Something wasn’t right.

He’d heard that voice before. He pulled back from the hug and was met by…

It wasn’t Y/N. It was Maeve.

Spencer could barely control his expression as complete bone-stilling shock washed over his entire being, “M-Maeve?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She said, a kind smile resting upon her features. If Spencer wasn’t so shocked, he’d probably have laughed at the absurd truth of that statement. Maeve brought her hand up to his forehead, “Are you feeling okay?”

He didn’t even have time to be confused before he jerked back quickly at the touch of her hand, “I-uh, uh...I’m not feeling too g-good. Um...what’s happening?” He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes again, almost like they’d be polished and he’d see more clearly. But when he opened his eyes again, she was still there. Right in front of him. There was no light emitting from behind her, she was totally opaque. It was eerily real.

Her face was full of color and life and she was dressed in one of his cardigans over her own set of matching pajamas. She was moving and...alive. And speaking to him. What is happening right now?

“But y-you’re...how are you here right now? Am I still dreaming? Am I...Maeve, am I dead?” Spencer shook his head in an attempt to wake back up.

She began to laugh and pulled out a chair for him to sit on, and so he did, still staring up at her in disbelief, “No, baby, you’re very much alive. You’re probably just still confused from whatever nightmare you had. Here, have some water.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, confused. Um, what day is it?” Spencer began to pat on his chest to make sure he was solid and alive.

She looked at him curiously at his strange behavior, “It’s April 5th, 2016.”

April 5th? Derek left the BAU near the end of March. A light bulb went off in his head.

The BAU!

They’d have all the answers. He shot up from his seat immediately, “I uh, have to get to work.” Spencer rushed to his bedroom to get dressed.

As he’s dressing, he spots a picture frame on his bedside table. He knows the picture by heart, it was of him and Y/N in the pumpkin patch last year. He’d had his arms tightly wound around her shoulders and was kissing her cheek. The leaves were the most colorful they’d ever been. He picked it up and almost dropped it immediately like it had burned his skin. It was the same picture.

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen. In her place was Maeve.

No, no, no. This isn’t right.

Spencer began to panic as he buttoned up his shirt, he threw on his cardigan and practically flew out the door. In the distance, he could hear Maeve in the background calling out for him to drink his coffee before leaving.

The train ride to work was truly a test of his patience. He couldn’t keep his knee still and checked his watch religiously. After the train stopped, was the first one off and ran as fast as his poor feet could take him. He stopped running when he got to the FBI Headquarters as to not alarm anyone, but raced to the sixth floor anyway.

As he opened the glass doors he searched frantically for any familiar face, “Garcia!” He yelled as he spotted her bright yellow clad figure across the bullpen. He pushed through tired agents and messy desks to get to her. Everything else was the same, the office was just as he remembered it.

“Good morning, boy wonder! How are you today?” She smiled graciously, holding a few files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Have you seen Y/N?” He asked impatiently. She pulled her brows together.

“Do you mean Y/N...Y/L/N?” She asked slowly, as if trying to recall her name.

“Yes, of course I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Who else would I be talking about?” Spencer asked, once again losing more of his patience.

“No, I haven’t seen her, to be honest. I don’t see much of the White-Collar Crime division up here unless Hotch asks for them. Why do you need Y/N? Is she okay?” Garcia casually answered, as if her answer hadn’t turned his world--this world--whatever the hell he was experiencing upside down.

“White-Collar crime? No, that can’t be right.” Spencer muttered to himself as his brain raced a million miles a second.

“Reid, is everything alright? Is there a possible case? Should I tell Hotch?” Garcia asked, but Spencer was barely listening.

He was on his way back to the elevators again, leaving an extremely confused Penelope in his wake. He raced down to the fourth floor, to the White-Collar crime division. As the elevator doors opened, his eyes scanned the crowded floor for her.

“Dr. Reid! It’s nice to see you down here. What can I do for you?” An agent, Agent Seymour, he’s met perhaps once before asked him.

“Hi, yes, I’m um..looking for one of your agents. Agent Y/L/N.” Spencer stuttered, it was weird saying her name so formally. But he had to see it with his own eyes.

“Yes, of course, right this way. I think she just came in.” The agent led him to a desk in the middle of the bullpen and left him, saying that she was probably getting coffee and should be back an second. Spencer looked over her desk and compared it with how her desk at the BAU looked like. Gone were the trinkets and books he’d given her. Gone was the candle she never lit, but kept anyway because she said it smelled like him. It was like staring at a stranger’s desk, so desolate, so...un-special.

“Jeremy, stop. I almost spilled my coffee!” She giggled from behind him. He’d recognize her voice anywhere. He turned to see her and his lungs filled with relief as he spotted her familiar face across the bullpen. There she was, in all her glory. Looking as beautiful as ever. His Y/N. But the relief was ripped away all too suddenly as he watched on. She had her coffee in one hand and the other was swatting a very sheepish looking Jeremy, he assumed.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just missed you.” He spoke, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her lips.

She blushed immediately and shied away, “Jeremy, we’re in the office!” She giggled again and pulled away from him, glancing around the office as if to check if anyone saw the moment of affection. Spencer’s blood boiled before he realized.

She looked so happy.

So much happier than she ever looked when she was with him. His heart sank to his feet and he felt like he was incapable of lifting it back up to its rightful place in his chest. He wondered if this was the universe’s cruel, cruel way of letting him know just how shitty of a boyfriend he’s really been. Fire of envy festered in the place where his heart used to reside. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, resentment, or guilt.

It all felt so strange. It felt like there was suddenly way too much pressure in his head. Before he could begin to compute the events unfolding before him, he realized she had spotted him at her desk and was now making her way across the bullpen, separating from her Jeremy. Before he could freak out, she was speaking to him. And all he could focus on was the shape of her lips and the faint memory of how they felt pushing against his.

“Dr. Reid! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?” She asked politely, but Spencer could tell that she was immeasurably confused by his presence, “Does Agent Hotchner need something from the White Collar crimes archives?”

Spencer panicked, “Yes! Um, he does...and um he asked me to ask you s-specifically. That’s why I’m here, heh.” He stammered like the nervous wreck he was and wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his pockets.

“Okay, that’s no problem. Just tell me the number of the file and I’ll get it for you.” She smiled slightly, setting her cup of coffee down on her desk. At least her coffee order was still the same as it was.

She disappeared for a few moments after he gave her a random sequence of numbers. Spencer wasn’t even sure how his legs were still capable of holding himself up. When she came back and he got a whiff of her perfume, his body completely stilled. He knows that scent like the back of his hand, he’d given it to her for their first anniversary. The fresh scent nearly sent him into anaphylactic shock. He’d accepted the file and scurried back to the sixth floor without another word, once again leaving a confused woman in his wake.

Spencer collapsed at his desk and rubbed his head like it would somehow fix this. Whatever this was. Everyone around him operated so normally and went about their day while he was seconds away from losing his mind.

Was he having a schizophrenic scare? Did his symptoms bleed into his 30’s even though they weren’t supposed to? What was this alternate universe where he’d lost the one good thing he’s ever known? How was he supposed to get back? Did he want to go back? What would happen if he did? Would it be fair for Y/N to stick with him when he knew she would be so much happier with someone else? Would he try harder for her? Would he stop shutting her out? Would the woman he loved so dearly ever love him back?

He must not have ever been deserving of her love and the universe was punishing him in the worst way possible. To have her be within arm’s reach but to never be able to hold her.

Once upon a time, he would have given up anything and everything to be with Maeve, but that was before Y/N. Before she gave him a new life, one he wanted to live. One where waking up wasn’t such a task. One where seeing her smile at him was enough to make him forget about all his worries. But now Y/N looked at him with barely a sliver of recognition. There was no affection or adoration behind those eyes and maybe he deserved that.

But how was this universe expecting him to go on like everything is fine? Like he hadn’t just lost the love of his life? No one else in this warped version of Spencer’s reality was feeling as dejected as Spencer was.

“Reid, are you feeling alright?” The voice of none other than Aaron Hotchner brought him out of his stupor. Spencer had unknowingly been sobbing into his hands for the past few minutes. Hotch was taken aback at the extent of Spencer’s disheveled state.

“H-Hotch, I need to go home. I can’t be here. I’m sorry.” Spencer packed his things and ran out the building before he realized he had nowhere to go. Home wasn’t his home anymore. He couldn’t exactly go back and see his dead girlfriend wandering around his apartment. He couldn’t be at work where Y/N was, so blissfully unaware of the crisis Spencer was in the middle of.

He wandered the streets of DC aimlessly as he tried to reorganize the events in his head and somehow make sense of them. Just a few days ago, he and Y/N had been holding one another on his couch. Sure, they’d been in a rut recently, but they still loved each other. At least that’s what he thought.

He walked and walked, miles on end, keeping his gaze on his feet as he tried to piece bits together. An IQ of 187 and he had absolutely no idea how whatever was happening to him happened. Even the multiple universes theory didn’t have his back. If he was ‘here’, where has ‘here’s’ Spencer gone?

His feet had taken him to the local park, where he and Y/N used to sit under the stars. He found himself reminiscing the times they were together. He saw himself and Y/N in every couple that passed him by. Exhausted, Spencer took a seat on a patch of grass. He buried his face into his hands and tried to relieve himself of the headache he’d developed.

“Hey, mister! Watch out!!” He heard a child yell way too loudly.

Groaning at the volume, he looked up to see the vague shape of a spinning baseball increasing in size as it moved closer….closer. Spencer had no time to react before he was knocked out cold by the baseball.

***

The first thing she’d heard was the incessant beeping of...something next to her. After that, she’d heard faint chatter. The voices sounded familiar but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. She whimpered in pain which caught the attention of everyone in the room. The chatter ceased.

“Y/N? Honey, it’s Pen, can you hear me?” A voice called. She fought to open her eyes.

Why was it so hard to open her eyes? It was like they were glued shut. Why did everything hurt? What is that smell?

She made a small noise of agreement to the voice that called, but could not coordinate herself enough to speak or open her eyes.

“Y/N, darling, you’re in the hospital, okay? You were in a car accident.” She spoke softly.

But the words weren’t soft at all. Her words had opened up a Pandora’s box of previously suppressed memories. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. It was hard to breathe as she tried to remember the last moments before the fog. She remembered seeing him so angry, eyes so wild. Who is he? So...so close. She whimpered in pain as she fought the fog away.

Blood.

So much blood.

Pain.

So much pain.

The others watched as she began to writhe against the hospital bed in discomfort. Her eyes snapped open the second she saw his face in her mind, frantically searching the room for him.

Spencer.

“Sp-Sp--” She began, but couldn’t formulate the rest of the word. Exhausted and defeated by the lack of his presence, she lay back on the bed.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Spencer’s...Spencer’s fine, alright? You can’t see him right now, but you will be able to.” Those words were the last thing she heard before she slipped off into a silent slumber.

Hours later, she awoke again. But this time with enough strength to open her eyes immediately. Her limbs felt like they weighed tons, she could barely lift a finger. The room was empty besides a single chair with a blurry figure seated in it.

“Spencer?” She uttered almost inaudibly and the figure moved.

“Hey there. Sorry, I’m not Spencer.” The figure moved closer and she recognized the blonde sheen.

“JJ.” Y/N croaked with relief, happy to see a friend. JJ promptly gave her some water in a cup and adjusted the bed so that she would be able to swallow it.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, taking the cup from Y/N’s trembling hands.

Y/N shook her head imperceptibly, “Is...Spence--is he?” Y/N barely got to finish her thought before the tears settled in.

“No, gosh, no. He’s alive. Thankfully, you both made it out alive.” JJ said with relief, leaning her elbows against the side of her bed. Y/N felt her breathing get easier as she learned of the news. She blinked hard, trying to control the tears, but they just flowed out.

“It’s my fault, JJ.” she paused to take a deep breath and JJ took one of her hands in hers, “I was the one driving. I should have been more careful. I-I was so mad.” She sobbed, the tears escaping.

“Hey, no, it’s alright now. Okay, you’ve both made it out alive, that’s what’s important.” JJ rubbed Y/N’s knuckles.

“W-where is he? I need to see him.” Y/N attempted to sit up but winced from the sharp pain in her side.

“Um..yeah, about that. You can’t really get up yet. You’ve got three broken ribs, a broken leg, and a severe concussion.” JJ delivered the news and Y/N’s tears seemed to flow even harder.

Before she could respond, Hotch, Penelope, and a nurse walked into the room, “Oh, sunshine! It’s so good to see you awake!” Penelope squealed and kissed her wet cheek gently before wiping away her tears. The nurse checked all her vitals and gave her some extra information before she left. Y/N forced a smile and sat back, but something in the room felt heavy.

“What’s going on? What aren’t you guys telling me?” Y/N frowned, staring at her friends. She saw them all exchange a look and Hotch being the most straightforward man she knows decided to deliver the news.

“It’s Spencer. Unfortunately, Spencer’s brain has swelled significantly and doctors don’t know when he’ll wake. It’s already been almost 42 hours since the accident.” Hotch frowned, watching Y/N’s expression turn from a hopeful one into one of the most unbearable expressions of grief.

“Wh--what, what does that mean? Does that mean he’s--is he ever going to wake up?” She began to panic, her heart rate audibly increasing. She squeezed JJ’s hand as hard as she could.

“We can’t be sure yet, the swelling has to go down before doctors can make any claims. It’s still too early to say he’s in a coma, which is a good sign. He’s also been showing steady signs of improvement.” Hotch said and Y/N covered her face to shield herself away from the embarrassment of openly sobbing.

JJ and Penelope both looked at the bruised and broken girl on the bed with tears brimming their eyes, unsure of what to do.

“I have to see him. Please. Please, JJ.” Y/N sobbed, pleading at the woman beside her. JJ looked towards Hotch for guidance.

“I’ll speak with the Doctor and see what I can do.” Hotch nodded once and left the room. Aaron Hotchner was simply a man you couldn’t say no to. Thankfully, this extended to doctors as well. The next time someone came in, they entered with a wheelchair. After many screams and with the help of three nurses and a doctor, they managed to get Y/N into the wheelchair. They rolled her off into Spencer’s room where he lay motionless on a bed just like hers. The sight of him so frail with so many tubes going in and out of his orifices should have overwhelmed her, but she was just so happy to see him breathing. Once again she could barely control her tears as she weakly gripped at the hand that was closest to her. She pressed sloppy, uncoordinated kisses to the back of his hand and pleaded for him to wake.

The sight was overwhelming, even for Hotch. It was difficult to see their two youngest agents fight for their lives.

And for the next two days, this is how it went. Y/N would wake from her slumber, request to see Spencer and would not leave his side unless her Doctor absolutely required her to. She didn’t care about what he’d said to her before the crash, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. She just wanted him here. She wanted to hear his voice again. What a luxury that was.

Slowly, Spencer began improving. He’d begin to open his eyes but shut them immediately afterwards. He’d make noises, even though they were very garbled, they were very welcome. Y/N would read to him, she’d have any one of their friends bring over his favorite books and she’d pass the time reading to him. It was difficult at first, but she’d improved too.

On the fifth day, he was awake and fully conscious before she even got to his room.

He heard his teammates speaking around him again and what a relief it had been to wake in a hospital bed rather than his own bed. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as they updated him of what happened in the recent days.

It wasn’t real.

None of it was.

Maeve wasn’t there, Y/N was his, no one else’s.

He’d been sure of it when they’d rolled her into his room and near his bed, eyes lit with hope surrounded by healing scrapes and bruises.

“Spence? Spencer!” She exclaimed, “Oh thank God you’re awake.” She whispered trying her hardest to lean towards him on the bed.

Spencer fought to raise his arm to touch her arm, “Y/N? A-are you really here?” He whispered back.

“I’m here baby, I’m here. I’m never leaving you.” She sobbed, leaning her face into his awaiting palm. Spencer’s chest filled with immense relief as his thumbs caught her fallen tears.

“Y/N, wait--Y/N, I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry about what I said. I remember. I didn’t mean it. You’re the one for me. Life is perfect with you.” Spencer frowned as tears of his own raced down his cheeks.

Y/N shook her head, “It’s okay, I don’t care about that anymore. I could have lost you. I-if I had lost you, I would have lost myself Spencer. I love you so much. I love you so much.” She repeated as she kissed the palm of his hand.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

How could he have ever wished to live without this? Without her?

The universe had taught him his lesson and boy was he glad he had learned it.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #mgg #CM

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

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DIWK - Chapter six: "I don't know everything, despite the fact you think that I do"

My gif

Word count: 12,6K

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of drug use, drug detox, physical violence. Spencer being a jerk.

Summary: (Y/N) had enough of Spencer's attitude and plans an intervention on her own.

A/N: Hello! how are you? how's your week going? my life is a mess and I'm fighting with a lot of anxiety and stress after the month I spent with my grandparents, so I've been taking everything with calm in the latest days. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Spencer is... and then reader... ok, read it, and see you in the comments! Stay safe, kids!!!

Series Masterlist

───※ ·❆· ※───

(Y/N)'s point of view

After New Orleans, I thought things were starting to get a little better. For a few days, Spencer was a lot like himself again. It was refreshing and exciting. He smiled. He even looked like he had slept. And he wasn't rude. Not at first. Not until that Friday.

- "Hey, pretty girl"- Morgan appeared next to my desk and tapped on the pile of files I was working on- Got any plans for tonight?

- "I was actually going to meet my boyfriend. Why? What do you have in mind?"

Yes. Paul and I had a date, 'cos I hadn't seen him in two weeks. We had spent San Valentine's apart, 'cos we were out on a case. And I barely noticed it. I didn't have my hopes high for that night, though. Maybe pizza, a movie... I didn't feel like having sex, even when it had been over a month since we had done it.

- "I'm clubbing tonight, and I know you are a party girl. So, do you wanna come with me?"

- "As tempting as it sounds, I pass"- I smiled at my friend and shook my head- "All I can do today is have a quiet evening, eat something, watch a movie and then call it a day."

- "Are you sure? 'cos Emily is on board, and you two are my party sidekicks."- I chuckled and kept shaking my head- "Ok, alright. You lose. What about you, pretty boy?"

Spencer had been awfully quiet that whole afternoon. He was buried in his paperwork and only moved from his seat to get coffee.

- "Reid? are you listening?"- Morgan waved until he got his attention. But Spencer apparently didn't want to talk- "Hello? Earth to Reid."

- "What the hell do you want?"- I brought up my eyes to my best friend, 'cos his voice was as annoyed as rude.

- "Hey, hey, slow down, kid. What's your problem?"

- "I'm trying to work, and you don't let me! That's my problem!"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and took a deep break.

- "Ok, my bad."

Spencer glued his eyes on his files again, and I kept looking at him closely for a minute. He was fidgety on his chair. He kept scratching his arms, and he had flipped from human to whatever he was when he yelled at Morgan in a blink.

Of course, shit wasn't over yet.

- "Hey, do you want a ride home?"- I asked him and stood by his desk on my way out. He was getting ready to leave too.

- "I can take the subway on my own"- he talked to me like I was insulting him- "And I don't wanna get in the way of your fake date,"- he grumbled and put on his coat

- "Sorry, what?"- I wasn't sure I had gotten that right.

- "Yeah, you have a date with your boyfriend, and I don't want to get in the way."

- "What are you talking about, Reid?"- I couldn't believe his words. He was acting like a jerk.

- "You know, I don't get it"- he was mad. Furious. And he snapped in front of me, out of the blue- "Why are you still dating that jerk if you don't even love him? does he fuck you that good?"

I could see from the corner of my eye how every head in the bullpen turned to us. I looked at my best friend in the eyes and didn't say a word. I just nodded and grabbed my purse.

- "Enjoy your weekend, Reid."

I knew I didn't have to take those words personally. Spencer wasn't himself. But I was growing tired of justifying him in front of the team and myself. It was time for the big guns.

I tried to ease my mind that night, preparing myself for what I knew I had to do the next day. But I couldn't shake Reid from my thoughts. I needed to know what he was doing if he had dinner. If he was able to sleep. Shit! I needed to know if he was getting high all alone in his apartment.

What if he overdosed? What if he just decided to go a little further and his body couldn't resist it? He was too skinny. He wasn't eating correctly. Shit! He could die.

- "Hey, babe. Are you ok?"- Paul asked me all of a sudden. He was kissing my neck and trying to get under my shirt, and I wasn't even moving. I was thinking about Reid and how to help him. And meanwhile, my boyfriend was trying to have sex with me.

- "Sorry, what?"- I know, that wasn't a good answer.

- "Are you even here?"- he sighed and let me go- "Let me guess, you are thinking about a case."

- "No, I'm just worried about Reid."

I know. That wasn't a good answer either, considering Paul's angry face as soon as he heard his name. Paul hated Reid. Ok, Paul hated every single one of my friends, but he despised Spencer. He would almost see him as his sworn enemy, and they had seen each other in person twice in over a year.

- "Now you think about that nerd when we are making out?!"

- "What?! No! that's not what I meant!"- I tried to explain, but it was clear that wasn't going to work- "He is going through a tough time after the abduction and..."

- "Yeah, yeah"- he cut me off and stood up- "Everything about Spencer is more important than me! I don't wanna hear that shitty and sad kidnap story again!"

- "I'm just trying to say I am worried about him!"- I stood up and followed him around the apartment.

- "You are always worried about him!"

- "He is my friend. He is in pain!"

- "And what about me?! Do you even care about me?!"

- "Sure! of course, I do!"

I knew that was it all of a sudden. I didn't even want to argue with Paul, and neither explain to him how much I needed to help Reid. So I didn't say a word. I only stood in front of him. He brought up his eyes to me and sighed. It took him a few seconds to gather the courage to say what he wanted to say. But when he did, it wasn't good.

- "You are in love with him, aren't you?"

His question made my blood boil. I hated he made such a presumption only because I was worried about Spencer. I loved him, sure, but because he was my best friend. I was with him all day, every day. I saw him more than my own family. More than Lu, Mikey, or Frank. And I knew Reid was in pain and in real danger. Of course, Spencer was my priority.

- "No, Paul. I am not in love with him."- I looked right into his eyes and tried to make my point clear- "He is going through a shitty situation, and I wanna help him. That's all."

- "And do you love me?"

He had never asked me that before. We haven't talked about "love" in the whole year and a half we had been together. And, to be honest, I didn't want to lie. I didn't want to hurt him either, but it was the end of the line, and we both knew it.

- "Paul..."

- "That's a no,"- he said and folded his arms across his chest- "If you don't love me, why are you with me?"

- "Do you love me?"

- "Of course, I do!"- I raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a second - "Don't profile me!"

- "I'm not profiling you. I'm just sure you don't! And that's ok. Paul, we... This is not a relationship. It's two lonely persons holding onto something that didn't work."

We just stared at each other and didn't say a word for what seemed to be for ages.

- "Despite what you might think, I know you, (Y/N)"- he took a step closer to me and kissed my forehead- "And I know you love him."

- "Paul, I really don't. He is my friend, and I'm worried about him"- he simply nodded and sighed.

- "Sure thing. Take care"- started walking to the door and never looked back.

I stood alone in the middle of my apartment. That was it. The easiest breakup because neither of us was in love. And yet, I felt empty and sad. Tears started falling down my cheeks, and I didn't notice them until I was sobbing.

I wasn't sad I had lost Paul. I didn't understand where that emptiness and misery were coming from. Maybe it was grief for a relationship that was never meant to work. Perhaps I was sad because I had failed to maintain a relationship. After all, work had turned into my life. I was just like my father and my brother.

A part of me felt I was slowly turning into what I had fought not to be. And letting Paul might mean I was no longer the old (Y/N). And the new (Y/N) scared me: I was a Fed, I worked over 50 hours a week, and I had killed people. Bad people, but I had pulled the trigger. I knew I had the job of my dreams, and I knew I loved working at the BAU. But with every day that passed, I was walking further and further away from the version of me I loved.

And I was scared of what the new (Y/N) was going to be like. Was she going to be like her dad and lose her family due to her work? or like her brother? who couldn't have a normal life 'cos being a detective was more significant.

I knew we all made our own personal decisions, but a part of me felt it. We were all cut from the same cloth, and I was meant to grow old, alone, and the BAU was going to be my whole life until the day I retired, and the loneliness consumed me.

- "I need a drink."

Spencer's point of view

I took a cab home. I didn't want to take the subway because it would take longer to get there, and I couldn't wait that long. I needed one more fix.

I had been telling myself the same for a whole week now: Just one more. One last time.

But it never was the last time. Every night I failed, and that Friday, I was so eager to forget, I wasn't thinking straight. I snapped at Morgan and (Y/N), just 'cos I was going insane, craving Dilaudid.

After New Orleans, I decided to stop using it. And for two days, I did it. But, of course, I couldn't handle the need. That needle was going to be my end, and I was struggling every day to quit. It was impossible to stop on my own when I needed to quieten the pain somehow.

You don't know how much pain you are into until you numb yourself, and the weight of all your troubles and regrets is lifted from your chest. I knew it was eating me alive, but I had to be strong and quit. So, every day I tried. And every day, I failed. Just like that night, when I laid in bed and slowly unwrapped my belt from my arm, losing all connection with reality.

I had yelled at my friends, and they were probably angry at me. But shit! It was worth it. Nothing was even relevant as long as I could feel the relief Dilaudid gave me.

But it never lasted. And the following day, I regretted it all. I woke up dressed on my bed, a needle next to me and an empty bottle of Dilaudid by its side. Just like a junkie. Tears filled my arms as soon as I realized what had happened. What I had done: I had failed yet again.

My whole body was shaking. I needed to eat something. My last proper meal had been Thursday when (Y/N) and I stopped for dinner on our way back home. And I guess if it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't have eaten at all.

I took a long shower, trying to wash away the guilt. It's obvious to say it didn't work. But I consoled myself thinking last night had been the last time. That day I was going to be strong enough, and I was going to quit. I had decided. Nothing could stop me that time.

My breakfast was miserable: I made coffee and took a look in my fridge. Nothing. All I ate that morning was a bowl of cereal (without milk) and two cups of coffee and sugar. Sugar and coffee, actually, like everybody teased me.

I tried to read for a while, at a normal peace, because my head was still fuzzy. So I sat in my living room and grabbed a book from my coffee table: "The Illustrated Man."

After a few hours and four books later, my mind kept coming to the same place. I was out of Dilaudid. And it was a good thing, 'cos now I just wasn't going to get any more. That was it. I had officially quit. Yes. And I felt good. It was a new day, and I was ready to be clean and sober. So I made myself another cup of coffee to celebrate and took a look at my bookshelf. I picked another three books and sat on my armchair, ready to keep on reading. I didn't need drugs to be happy.

Around three in the afternoon, I couldn't stop moving on the couch as I read the sixth book of the day. I drank yet another cup of coffee, even when I knew what I really needed was to get some real food. But I didn't care to starve at that moment. There was only one thought in my mind: Getting high.

Maybe I wasn't ready to quit. I should try leaving it periodically. Actually, perhaps having a bottle around the house could help me ease my mind. Knowing it was there made me feel better. As good as using it.

I was going insane. I kept debating whether I should stay home or find my dealer and just get a little dose. Just enough for one more time. Maybe two. I kept walking around my apartment, creating excuses in my head to get high.

And that was when I heard a knock on my door. I stopped on my tracks, confused. I wasn't waiting for anyone, and I wouldn't really have many unannounced visits. So I walked silently towards the door and looked through the peephole.

- "Shit"- my voice was a whisper I prayed (Y/N) hadn't heard.

What was she doing there? Maybe she had come to talk about my attitude at the BAU. I had said some awful things, but that wasn't really a good moment. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want her to see me like this. I didn't want anyone to see me. So I didn't open the door.

But she knocked again. I didn't move and almost didn't breathe as I stood still by the door, waiting for her to leave. But she wasn't leaving. Instead, she kept knocking over and over again, driving me insane until I snapped.

- "What the fuck do you want?!"- I opened the door and yelled at her face. She widened her eyes, surprised, and didn't move.

- "You just came to stand there and look at me?- I shouted, and she flinched. She had to leave. I wanted her out of my house. But rather than leaving, she walked in and stood in the middle of the apartment.

- "What is wrong with you?"- she was making an effort to stay calm, but I could tell she was scared. She kept biting the inner part of her cheeks and crossed her arms on her chest. Was she scared of me?

- "Spencer, why are you acting like this?"

- "What the fuck is your problem, (Y/N)? Why are you in my house uninvited?!"

- "I called you like three times. I wanted to invite you to my house for dinner, but you didn't answer, so I got worried."

- "As you can see, I'm fine! And no, I don't wanna go to your house for dinner!"

Her eyes were wide opened, staring right into mine, and I swear it physically hurt to see her. She shouldn't be there. I needed her out. I didn't want her to see me like that, and I needed to get out and get some more Dilaudid. Now more than ever.

- "I'm making lasagna"- (Y/N) whispered- "Mikey, Frank, and Lu are coming."

- "I don't care, I don't wanna go to your house, I don't wanna go anywhere! I'm fine here."

- "But, honey bunny..."

- "Stop calling me that!! I hate it!! It's a stupid nickname! I'm not your fucking honey bunny!!"

The silence in my apartment was so deep, I could hear my own heart racing inside my chest. (Y/N)'s eyes filled with tears that soon started falling down her cheeks. She dropped her shoulders, and her arms hung at her sides, slacks.

- "Please"- she begged- "Tell me what's wrong. I want to help you, Spencer."

- "There's nothing wrong! don't you get sometimes I don't want to be stuck at you?! I already have to see your face all day at work. I deserve a break during the few weekends we have off!"

- "I know you don't mean that"- her voice broke, and her chin trembled, but she still made her best not to cry.

- "You don't know that. You don't know shit, (Y/N)."

I stayed quiet and looked away from her. I couldn't stare at those sad eyes for another second.

- "Please, leave"- I managed to control my voice for a second, in a poor attempt not to hurt her anymore. But she shook her head and sniffed.

- "No, Spencer, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you. I am worried."

- "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, (Y/N)! Don't you get it?! I just don't wanna be with you!"

- "Please"- she begged, sobbing in front of me. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear to see her anymore.

So I ruined everything and hurt her. I pushed her. She nearly fell back but managed to stabilize. She was shocked by my actions, but I didn't even have time to think about what I was doing. All I could think of that minute was that I needed her out of my house to buy drugs and get high.

- "Spencer, what the hell are you doing?"

- "I asked you nicely, but you didn't leave. So now I won't be nice anymore. Get out!!"

I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of my sight. She cried, pleading I would tell her what was wrong with me. But I didn't listen. Instead, I dragged her out of my apartment and slammed the door. I could hear her crying in the hall for a moment, and it enraged me. I thought if she was crying, she herself had caused it. She had appeared at my house at the wrong moment, unannounced.

It wasn't my fault. I just wanted her to leave. I did what I had to do.

And I didn't regret it.

Not until Sunday afternoon, when an announced knock on my door forced me to drag my stoned body from the couch. It was a delivery boy who gave me a package and left. It had nothing written on it. Not even my name. When I opened the box, I found a computer and a note.

- "Play me."

I knew I was still stoned, but not enough to be imagining those kinds of things. I took the laptop to the couch with me. There was a video ready to be played in it. So I pushed play.

- "What the fuck do you want?!"- my heart dropped. It was me, but I could barely recognize my own face- "You just came to stand there and look at me?"

It was a recording of me yelling at (Y/N). She had taped everything, and I couldn't believe my own eyes. I was a monster.

- "I'm making lasagna"- my chin quivered at that scene. Her voice was a whisper, and I was out of myself- "Mikey, Frank, and Lu are coming."

- "I don't care, I don't wanna go to your house, I don't wanna go anywhere! I'm fine here."

- "But honey bunny..."

- "Stop calling me that!! I hate it!! It's a stupid nickname! I'm not your fucking honey bunny!!"

I paused the video, 'cos I couldn't take it anymore. That wasn't me. I couldn't believe I had said all those things to her. It hurt (Y/N), so I could get drugs.

I covered my face with my hands and cried. I was done. Not only did I not know how to recover from my drug addiction, but I also didn't know how I could ever look at my best friend again in the eyes after what I had done.

I remembered she had cried, and I knew I had been mean. But when I saw the extreme hate in each one of my words, I knew I had reached rock bottom. I needed help.

After a few minutes, I pushed play again. I knew I needed to see the whole thing actually to understand what had happened.

- "Please, leave!!"

- "No! Spencer, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you. I am worried."

- "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, (Y/N)! Don't you get it! I just don't wanna be with you!!"

- "Please... Spencer, no! What the hell are you doing?"

- "I asked you nicely, but you didn't leave. So now I won't be nice anymore. Get out!!"

I hit her. I pushed her. She was there to invite me for dinner, and I hurt her. Who was I? What kind of beast does such a thing to his best friend?

Who would do such a thing to the woman he loves.

I curled on the couch, crying. How could I let that happen? When did I turn into a downward version of myself? Ethan was right. I had been dumb enough to think I could control it when in reality, drugs were controlling me. I was losing who I was. I could lose my job. I was losing my friends.

I knew things had been hard for me growing up, but I had finally reached a point in my life where I was happy. I liked my life. I loved my job. For once, I had real friends, and I was making good, catching bad guys. I had actually fulfilled my dream to work at the BAU. So why was I wasting it all?

- "Spencer"- I heard (Y/N)'s voice at the end of the video and saw her face on the screen- "I am here if you need to talk. I'm not mad. I just wanna hug you. Please, call me. Let me help you."

But I couldn't do it. I couldn't talk to her after what had happened. I dragged her by the arm out of my apartment. I made her cry. I didn't deserve anything. I couldn't deal with reality and the consequences of the monster I had become into.

Sunday, March 4th. That was the day it all changed for good.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer didn't call. I wasn't surprised, though. I knew he would be affected by the video and probably felt like he didn't deserve my help. So I did what I knew Frank would say I shouldn't do. I put on my shoes and got ready to go to his apartment and pick him up. I was not going to leave him alone when I could see he was struggling to survive.

But when I opened my door, Spencer was sitting in the hall outside my apartment, hugging his legs, shaking. His eyes were puffy, and his lips were shattered. He looked at me, afraid I would be mad. But how could I? I just wanted to help him.

I kneeled in front of him and touched his hands. They were stone cold. His lips trembled as I looked into his eyes, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he finally threw his arms around me, crying.

- "It's ok, honey"- I whispered and felt his whole body shaking as he held me tight- "I've got you."

- "I'm sorry"- I mumbled, sobbing against my shoulder.

- "Shh, it's ok, it's ok"- I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek.

- "Please"- I had to bite my lips not to cry with him, but I knew I had to be strong for him- "Help me."

- "Always."

I poured two cups of tea on my kitchen island as I looked at Spencer eating a bowl of soup. He was swallowing it like he hadn't eaten in days, which was probably true. We had barely spoken in the last hour. He kept asking for forgiveness as I helped him walk into my apartment and sat with him on the couch. He held onto me like a castaway holds to whatever shipwrecks he finds to survive.

When I finally convinced him to eat something, he followed me to the kitchen and looked at me in silence as I cooked. I didn't know what to tell him, so I just did my best to stay calm. I knew what was happening next, and it wasn't going to be pretty. But I was ready to go through it with him.

- "Thank you"- he whispered and sighed as soon as he was finished.

- "Do you want some more?"- but he shook his head. I smiled at him and handed him his cup of herbal tea.

- "Cookies?"- he didn't answer. He just looked at me with those big puppy eyes and broke my heart.

- "I'm sorry"- he spoke so softly I almost didn't hear him.

- "Don't be."

- "I was a monster"- he stared at me, and I knew he was thinking I was never going to forgive him, when the truth was, I wasn't mad at him at all. I was just worried sick.

- "Are you ready to get better?"- I was afraid to ask, 'cos I was afraid he could change his mind. Still, I trusted the video had shaken him deeply enough to erase from his head any thought of relapsing.

- "Yes."

His answer was clear. Even when it was a whisper, there was no hesitation or no fear. Pure determination. It made me smile to hear him like that. And he smiled at me for a second, filling my heart with hope.

- "Ok, then this is what we are doing"- I walked to my desk and took a folder I had prepared for that day. I gave it to him, and he frowned, confused.

- "What is this?"

- "Our home detox plan. You and I are locked in this apartment for the next fifteen days."

Spencer looked at me, baffled. I just smiled and walked to the fridge to show him how prepared I was.

- "I got all the food we need, and the meds you might need, and a nurse that will come to visit daily to put an eye on you."

- "What? How? What about work?"

- "I'll talk to Hotch."

- "What are you gonna tell him?"

- "The truth"

I wasn't going to lie to my boss, not when he also knew what was happening with Reid.

- "Honey, he knows there's something wrong with you, and I'm sure he will understand our absence for two weeks. You and I have enough vacation days saved to cover that time. And you need it."

Spencer looked at me in silence. I couldn't read his face because his eyes hypnotized me. Even under those circumstances, his eyes were beautiful and sweet. Filled with hope.

- "Ok"- he nodded, and I hugged him right away.

- "I'm so proud of you, honey"- I whispered and caressed his hair for a second.- "Come on. We are doing one more thing before we start."

- "What?"

- "Cleaning your apartment."

I took Reid back to his place and got rid of the Dilaudid he had gotten that weekend: All of it. And the needles. I helped him clean because I didn't want him to find a messy apartment when he would get back there. Then, we packed a bag of clean clothes to take to my place. He looked weak but determined to change, which made me feel so relieved. My heart was joyful.

- "Do you have everything?"- I whispered and held his hand as he stood in the middle of the living room and took a look around- "Do you want to take some books?"- he didn't answer- "Spencer? are you ok?"

- "I don't want to be a burden"- he whispered, and I took a deep breath right away, trying to find the right words to convince him he wasn't and that there was no way on earth he could ever be a burden in my life.

- "You are not, I swear"- he looked down and played with his fingers in my hand- "I mean it."

- "It's not going to be nice"

- "I know"

- "And..."

- "And I want to be there, with you, all along. Ok?"- he looked at me, and my heart skipped a beat.

- "(Y/N), withdrawal symptoms from opiates include anxiety, sweating, vomiting, and"- he cleared his throat, embarrassed- "And diarrhea."

- "I know... but we are going to go through this together, one day at the time."

Spencer kept his fingers in my hand, tracing paths on my skin. I looked at him and bit the inside of my cheeks. I didn't want him to doubt himself, 'cos I knew he could do it.

- "One day at the time sounds good"- he murmured and looked at me with a tiny smile. I nodded and kissed his cheek. I don't know why I did it. I just know how much I liked it. The sensation of his skin, and his two days beard, I don't know what it did to me. But I even shivered.

- "Let's go"- I whispered and held his hand tight. He nodded and grabbed his bag. It was about to get real.

The first night with Spencer was wild. He hadn't used it in over a day, and the withdrawal symptoms started around midnight. We were on the couch watching a movie. I was already half asleep when I felt Spencer constantly moving. He started biting his nails and scratching his face every two minutes.

- "Are you ok?"- I whispered and looked at him. He was pale.

- "I'm not gonna be able to do this."

- "Honey..."

- "No, I mean it."

- "You can, and you will."

- "How do you know? I was weak enough to start using."

- "You were forced to start using, and you are strong enough to stop"- I sat straight and held his hands. He was freezing- "What do you say we put you to bed? I'll make you a cup of tea, and we'll see how you feel in the morning."

He didn't move. I kept his hand in mine, and he held it tight. Real tight. I don't know what he was thinking about, but after a few seconds, he sighed and looked at me.

- "Bed and tea sounds nice,"- I nodded and stood up, but he didn't move- "(Y/N)?"

- "Yes?"

- "Where are you going to sleep?"

- "On the couch"- he sighed, and his face was filled with guilt.

- "I can't let you do that. This is your house."

- "Don't worry about that now. Come on. You need to rest"- I caressed his hand with my thumb, and he finally stood up. But halfway to the bedroom, he stopped.

- "I feel so guilty to put you through all this."

- "I want to do this"

- "But..."

- "No, but"- I turned to him and cupped his face with my hands- "I love you, and I'm not gonna leave you alone. No matter what."

My words resonated inside my head for a few seconds as I stared at him. My stomach was fluttering, and my heart was racing inside my chest.

That wasn't good. But I didn't have to overthink my feelings because my best friend needed me.

Reid walked to the bathroom and put on his pajamas while I made him a cup of warm tea. I knew what was coming: nausea, shivering, throwing up, stomach ache, and more. But I was ready. Two weeks and Spencer was going to be ok.

I had talked about my plan with Hotch earlier that day, and he agreed to give us two weeks off and cover us. Spencer was going to be in Vegas, 'cos his mother had had an episode, and I would be in New York, helping my brother on a case. Seemed convincing. Having the two of us out of town would stop any of our friends to stop by unannounced.

- "(Y/N), thank you for doing this for Reid"- Hotch said before hanging up. I felt lucky to have him as my unit chief. He surely cared for all of us. I don't think anyone else would have done the same.

Retchings from my bathroom were the first thing I heard as soon as I stepped into my room.

- "Honey, do you need help?"- but Reid didn't answer. So I ran back to the kitchen and got him a Gatorade from the fridge, set it on the nightstand. Then I ran to my closet and grabbed a clean towel.

I opened the bathroom door and found Reid kneeled by the toilet. He had already flushed but didn't stand up.

- "Here"- I dampened the towel and put it on his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed- "Better?"

Spencer just nodded and stayed still for a moment. I took off his glasses and pulled his hair back carefully. He started retching a second later, and I rubbed his stomach, cooing him. When he was done, I flushed and helped him stand up. That wasn't it, and I knew it. He knew it too.

- "Did you know brushing your teeth right after throwing up damages your teeth?"- he whispered, making me smile. It felt good to know deep down, even under those shitty circumstances, he was still the same good old Reid.

- "So, mouthwash?"- I moved the bottle closer for him, and he just nodded- "I'll be outside."

Reid drank a little Gatorade and made a sad effort to read after getting into bed but fell asleep in less than five minutes. I took the glasses off (again) and took the book from his hands. My heart felt warm just to see him there, resting.

But that lasted less than half an hour. I stayed by Spencer's side to make sure he was ok. I was reading when he started retching again. I grabbed the bucket I had already set underneath the bed and rushed to help him. His stomach was already empty. He was basically just vomiting bile.

When he finally fell asleep again, he started shaking. I touched his hand, and he was freezing, so I took an extra blanket from the closet, placed it on top of him, and set the room's thermostats to make it a little warmer for him.

I stayed by his side, reading until he woke up again. This time, he was sweating. I took a clean pajama top from his bag and helped him change. Then, I took the dirty pajamas and the clothes he had worn that day and put them in the washer.

I sat next to Reid on the bed and looked at him. He was awake, rolling over and over, not able to stay still.

- "Come here"- I whispered and tapped on my lap- "Put your head here."

I thought he was going to argue, but no. Instead, he did as told with no hesitation as I ran my fingers through his hair slowly, scratching his scalp carefully. I felt how he inhaled deeply and relaxed, at least for a little while.

But it didn't last. And the rest of the night was a long loop of puke, shivers, and sweat. Spencer finally fell asleep for good around six in the morning, and I dragged my exhausted self to the couch. Night one was done. Nine more to go.

Spencer's point of view

My whole body ached. I opened my eyes, disoriented. All I knew was that I felt I had been beaten up, but I didn't recognize the room. I did recognize the smell on my pillow, though. It was (Y/N)'s. That's how I remembered what was going on.

Adding to how bad I felt, physically, I felt worst knowing everything that had happened the night before and in advance for everything I knew would happen that week. But even knowing that, and even when I was embarrassed to be a burden, I was glad to be there. I was happy to feel taken cared of and loved. It was a change I never imagined I could experience. The one who always took care of his mother now had someone who took care of him. It was under a miserable context, but I felt loved anyway.

Even when I was loved only as a friend.

I stood up slowly. I was fatigued, probably 'cos I had spent half of the night puking. I drank what was left of the Gatorade on the nightstand and walked to the living room. (Y/N) was asleep on the couch. My heart ached to think how uncomfortable she probably was while I slept on her queen-sized bed. No one had ever cared so much about me before. So I walked to the kitchen and made her breakfast. A classical Reid breakfast. Coffee, cereal, and milk. That was it. That was all I could cook.

- "Hey, what are you doing?"- (Y/N) appeared suddenly and smiled at me so sweetly, I nearly dropped the coffee pot.

- "I'm trying to make you breakfast"- I confessed and blushed- "And as you can see, I'm not much of a cooker."

- "You made coffee, you covered the most important part"- she held the cup I had filled for her and smiled- "What if you get comfy on the couch while I make you something to eat?"

- "I can't let you do everything, (Y/N)"- the way she looked at me, my heart skipped a beat.

- "I'll tell you what: If I ever get sick or hurt, or anything happens to me, you are going to be the one taking care of me. Ok?"- I nodded and stayed quiet- "Now, go to the couch. It's a lazy Monday."

- "What does that mean?"

- "We stay in our pajamas, watch movies, nap, and do nothing."

How could anyone say no to that?

I wasn't hungry at all, but (Y/N) really applied herself with everything she cooked: she made chocolate chips, hotcakes, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a smoothie, and also forced me to eat a bowl of fruit. She said I needed all the vitamins I could get, 'cos I had to get strong.

She sat next to me, ate the bowl of cereal I had prepared for her, and drank the coffee I had made. It was relaxing just staying there, covered with a blanket, watching Dr. Who. I felt my body losing up little by little. Until detox hit again. The light was bothering me, burning my eyes, and my body felt weak. Nauseous started kicking in, and before I knew it, I was throwing up on (Y/N)'s carpet.

She held a bucket in front of me and pressed a damped towel on the back of my neck.

- "Better?"- (Y/N) whispered and smiled at me. Her fingers tucked some of my hair behind my ears gently- "Do you want to lay down for a while? You are shaking."

I just nodded.

- "Ok, come on, let's go"- she held my arm and helped me stand up. She was right. I was shaking, but not just because I was cold. It was the withdrawal.

I was so embarrassed and mortified. With each symptom, I was a little more certain (Y/N) would never look at me the way I did. She would never fall for me after what she was witnessing. No one in their right mind would.

- "There you are"- she whispered, fixing the pillow behind my head as I laid on her bed again.

- "Can you please close the curtains?"- I whispered, covering my face with both hands. The light was too painful to deal with.

- "Sure, honey. Headache?"- all I could do was nod- "I'll get you ibuprofen, that will help with your body aches and the migraine."

I stayed still, eyes closed, hands covering my face, thinking how I had gotten to the point of having to detox my body from drugs. It was, without a doubt, the lowest moment of my whole life.

- "Ok, honey, try to get some rest, ok?"- (Y/N) whispered after I took the ibuprofen and drank half the bottle of water she had brought.

- "Can you..."- I studied because I was afraid to tell her I didn't want her to leave me alone. I was afraid to be on my own. I didn't trust myself or my mind.

- "What is it? Do you want another blanket?"

- "Can you stay with me?"- I finally asked and held her hand. She just nodded, smiling, and sat next to me on her bed, making sure I was comfy and cozy, fixing the pillow again and the blanket. I looked at her as she laid by my side on top of the covers and held her book.

- "I'm here, Spencer. And I'll be where when you wake up, ok?"

- "Can you read to me?"- I closed my eyes 'cos the light was killing me.

- "And your headache?"

- "Your voice is soothing, and it would help to concentrate on something else but the pain."

- "Ok... then prepare yourself for some horror, 'cos I'm reading, yet again, "Something wicked this way comes."

- "It's one of my favorites"- I whispered and sighed.

- "Why am I not surprised?"

I tried to fight the waves of nausea, the pain in every muscle and headache, and only focused on the sound of her voice as she read. It took me back to when I was a kid, and my mom would read me every night. (Y/N) kept caressing my hair and reading to me. It was the closest I had ever been to heaven, even when physically, I felt like dying.

When I woke up, (Y/N) was asleep by my side. I tried to move, but my body was limp. It was too painful for me to get up on my own, and all I could think of was one simple thing: Dilaudid. I was craving it. I would never feel so bad if I had a fix. Just a little one. To make the pain go away.

I was making excuses to justify my need for drugs. I wanted to feel better, 'cos right there, on (Y/N)'s bed, I felt dead already, and my whole body was rotting. I just wanted to get a little high. It wasn't going to hurt anyone. Right?

Wrong. The bruise on (Y/N)'s arm was the reality check I needed. I hurt her. I hit her. I pushed her away from me. That's how low I had gotten. I would not let that happen again, and more important than anything else: I was never going to hurt (Y/N), ever again. And that I swore to myself that day on her bed.

There was no use in denying the fact I was in love with my best friend. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me. And I knew I was going to love her forever, even when she would only be my friend. I didn't even know when I had fallen so hard in love with her. I tried to remember the moment my feelings had changed from friendship to love, but I couldn't find it. I just knew I loved her, and nothing was ever gonna change that.

The kind of love that makes you think you'd die for that person. I would die for her, just to make sure she is safe.

I felt so pathetic thinking those things. Not because I didn't want to feel that way, but because I knew (Y/N) would never look at me like that. But still, I'd give her everything she could ever ask me for.

I just laid by her side and looked at her as she slept. My eyes were finally able to slide on every detail of her face. Her freckles, her nose, the color of her lips that even without makeup looked like a cherry. And the bruise on her arm. I was never going to forget about it and neither forgive myself.

- "Hey"- she whispered, fluttering her eyes- "How are you feeling?"

- "Good"- I lied. I didn't want to tell her I felt like dying. She stayed still, looking at me for a few seconds.

- "Are you hungry?"- I shook my head, even that hurt- "How's the headache?"- my eyes were killing me.

- "Better"- she nodded and sighed.

- "I know you are full of shit, Spencer Walter Reid. You don't need to lie"- I just closed my eyes and refused to open them again for a few minutes.

- "I just don't want you to worry, (Y/N). That's all."

- "Do you want to sleep some more? I'm gonna go..."- but as soon as she moved, I stopped her.

- "No"- I looked at her and held her hand immediately. Every muscle in my body hurt with that movement, but I didn't regret it- "Please, don't leave."

- "Ok, I won't go. I promise"- she held my hand and caressed it slowly and smiled so sweetly, I think I even smiled back.

We laid in silence for a while. I closed my eyes again, trying to breathe normally. (Y/N) was lying next to me. That would get my heart racing in a second.

- "The nurse is coming around five. She will put an eye on you every day if you need any medical attention, ok?"- I hummed as a response and kept focused on her fingers playing with my hand- "Maybe we can ask her to help you take a bath."

I wide opened my eyes at those words and noticed how my best friend was blushing.

- "What?"- she chuckled at my reaction- "I can take a bath on my own!"

- "Really? You should consider it then"- she stuck out her tongue to me and giggled- "Though your two days beard is cute"- she ran her fingers along my jaw and sent shivers all over my body. The proximity felt so new, yet incredibly natural, almost familiar.

- "Thanks?"- I answered with a question 'cos I had no idea what else to do. I just stayed still and looked into her eyes. She didn't say another word either. Her eyes were following her fingers, playing with my jawbone slowly.

I wanted to move a little closer to her and hug her, maybe. But I couldn't. Not only because I physically couldn't move without crying, but because her phone rang and made her jump on the bed.

- "Hey! Paco, how are you?"- I heard her pick up the phone in the living room and walk back to me, holding another bottle of Gatorade.

- "No, I'm on a case. In New York. I don't know how long, I wish I could predict how long it's gonna take to catch a fucking serial killer, but I can't."

I looked at her as she walked around the room, talking with Frank. Of course, it was him. She always called him Paco. I slowly sat down on the bed and sighed. I was paranoid about the shower. Maybe I stank. I hadn't bathed since... Saturday. Obviously, I smelled terrible. I had been sweating all night long.

I made my best effort and walked to the bathroom. Everything hurt. When I finally managed to take off my pajamas and ran the shower, I was weary. But the warm water made me feel a lot better.

I took a long shower. Not just because I wanted to stay forever under the warm water, but because I couldn't really move that fast. I washed my hair and considered shaving. But I didn't have a razor on hand, and if (Y/N) liked my tiny beard, I decided to keep it.

- "Hey! everything ok?"- (Y/N) asked from the other side of the door.

- "Yes, I'm ok"- she walked in, and I froze.

- "Ok, I'll leave a clean towel next to the shower, ok? It's warm"

- "Thank you."

I stayed still under the water until she exited the bathroom and nearly held my breath at the thought of her being there with me. It was too much, and to be honest, I was too weak to overthink it. But I knew it was going to be a thought that would hunt me back home.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I sat on the couch and drank my tea after leaving the towel for Spencer in the bathroom. My heart was racing, and that shouldn't be happening. Why was I so affected by my best friend? I knew I was worried, and all my attention was focused on him, but that didn't explain why my stomach fluttered when I looked at him.

- "Put your shit together!!"- I yelled/whispered to myself and shook my head.

Frank had called to know about Spencer, but I had to lie and act like I was at work. I couldn't just tell him what was going on in front of Reid. So I texted him the short version of the fact, and he asked me to keep him posted. He also told me he was going to keep Mikey and Lu away from my apartment those days.

Spencer took a shower and sat with me on the couch. I had cleaned the vomit from the carpet and kept a bucket near in case he felt sick. We read in silence for a while, and I kept checking on him every few minutes. He was nervous and looked anxious. I wasn't going to ask him what was wrong, 'cos it was obvious he was craving Dilaudid, and to be honest, I was scared he might start yelling and getting violent. So, I stood up and prepared him a smoothie. I knew he hated healthy eating, especially salads, but he was doomed. He had to put some vitamins in his body.

He looked at me disgusted as I gave him the glass but drank it quietly and gave it back in a minute. I was impressed.

He threw it up in less than ten minutes, though. So far, not so good.

He also vomited lunch. I knew his whole body ached, so I put on a Star Trek DVD to keep his mind busy in anything else. When the nurse came, she did a brief check-up and told me to continue with the same diet and ibuprofen in case of severe pain. We had to put an eye on dehydration. She also suggested we'd engage in some physical activity as soon as he felt better. Walks to the park were her recommendation.

I couldn't imagine Spencer walking out of the house under those conditions, but I had high hopes by the end of that week, he was going to feel much better.

The second night was worse than the first because his body aches hit him harder. He rolled in bed in pain, shivering. I stayed with him until late, trying to soothe him. I read and caressed his sweated hair. At a certain point, I just sat there with his head on my legs, and he started crying. His tears soaking my legs and his sobs breaking my heart.

I didn't know what to say. I don't know if there was anything to be said at that moment. So I just leaned in and kissed Spencer's temple. I rocked him like a baby and did my best to calm him down. He just kept crying on and on, tearing my soul apart. I couldn't handle watching him like that. I didn't know what to do to help him feel better too. All I could do was be with him throughout the process and hold him tight to make sure I kept all his pieces together. I didn't want him to fall apart.

When I opened my eyes the following day, Spencer was asleep in front of me. He was pale, and the rings under his eyes were darker than ever. But at least, he was finally sleeping.

I stared at him for a few minutes, planning the day. But soon, I realized I couldn't concentrate. I just looked at him. I knew my friend was handsome, even when he always argued when I let him know. But at that moment, he made my heart beat faster. His hair was messy and with some curls. His brown beard kept growing. I had never seen Spencer with facial hair, and I loved it. I wanted to tell him to keep it, but then I thought it might be inappropriate. Not that telling him was wrong, but what he was making me feel.

I refused to think I had a crush on my friend. Because I didn't. I was just worried sick for him, and my head was confused. It wasn't the time to think about that. I had to be a good friend and help Reid. His wellbeing was all that mattered to me.

So I got out of bed and ran to the kitchen to make sure everything was ready. I cooked breakfast and lunch, cleaned, and took a quick shower. I was walking out of the bathroom in my clean clothes when Spencer woke up. He rolled in bed and looked at me, confused.

- "Hey, how are you feeling, honey?"- I whispered and sat next to him on the bed. He yawned and nodded.

- "Better."

- "Great, I hope you are hungry, 'cos breakfast is ready"- he scratched his head and yawned again. And I swear, I had to mentally slap myself because I thought he looked adorable and couldn't stop staring.

- "Do you want to take a shower?"- I asked him and stood up. I had to do anything to keep me from being stupid- "I can also run you a bath. I got some salts that could make you feel better. They might help with your body ache."

- "Thank you"- he whispered and sat down. He just looked at me in silence as I kept myself busy opening curtains, folding blankets, and cleaning the bathroom, to get it ready for him

- "Did you sleep?"- he asked me suddenly- "You look tired."

- "Nah, I'm ok. I think I went too heavy on the coffee earlier."

- "How long have you been up?"- I looked at my wristwatch and sighed.

- "A couple of hours."

It was ten. I got up at eight. Spencer had finally fallen asleep at five. It didn't take a genius to see I hadn't slept properly.

- "Why don't you nap?"- he asked and tapped on the bed- "You look like you could use some more sleep"- that was tempting, I won't deny it. But no. I couldn't.

- "Tell you what, why don't you eat something and then we can watch a movie together?"- Spencer nodded and moved slowly. That's when I remembered he felt like shit.

- "Come here"- I stood by his side and held his hands- "Can you stand up?"

- "Yes"- he whispered and tried to move on his own. His legs were shaking, and so were his hands. He did his best to stand up, and after a few tries on his own, he succeeded. But after giving two steps alone, he stumbled and nearly fell.

- "I've got you!"- I said, wrapping my arms around him and keeping him steady. His whole face was red, in anger maybe, or embarrassment. I didn't want to push him to talk or do anything. I just made sure he wouldn't fall.

- "Wanna stay in bed?"- I suggested

- "No"- he murmured and took a step ahead

- "Ok, let's go to the living room then."

Spencer didn't reply. I was sure he was ashamed and upset. I just walked with him to the living room, trying to think of anything else: anything but the butterflies in my stomach.

It was getting harder to ignore the mental fuzziness I felt each time I looked at him. But I refused to think about it. It wasn't the right time.

But it got worse that evening.

We spent the whole day on my sofa, napping, reading, and watching Star Trek. I was getting dinner ready when Spencer's phone rang. We both stayed still. He looked at me with widened eyes, almost scared. I smiled and walked to my room to get the phone. It was JJ.

I'm not proud to say it, but an overwhelming sensation of insecurity and concern filled my body. Why was JJ calling Spencer? Were they closer than I thought? I don't know why I kept thinking all those things.

- "It's JJ"- I announced and gave him his phone. He hesitated for a moment and finally picked up. I walked back to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. What was wrong with me?

- "Mom is fine, thank you for calling"- I heard him say and closed my eyes. I had to focus on the food. I had to focus on helping him get better.

Why was I so upset JJ had called him? It was nice to know more people cared about him. Not as much as I did, of course.

- "Sure, I tell her. I'll see you in a couple of days"

I walked back to the living room carrying a tray with soup and salads. Spencer sat down properly and looked at me with a small smile.

- "I know you hate veggies, but you are doomed"- I whispered, reading his mind- "These are packed with all the vitamins and minerals your body needs."

- "Thank you"- he murmured and kept his eyes on me until I sat next to him and grabbed my bowl.

- "How was JJ?"- I had to ask. He cleared his throat and played with the lettuce on his dish for a moment before saying.

- "She was ok. She wanted to know if everything was ok with my mom."

- "Oh"- I didn't know what else to say. I tried no to think about it anymore, 'cos it was useless.

- "I kind of felt bad everybody swallowed our story"- Spencer confessed and sighed.

- "That's because I make up the best lies, honey,"- I smiled at him, but he just stared- "Everything ok?"

- "I'm not hungry"

- "Come on, at least have the soup, please?"

- "I don't want to barf all over your carpet, again"- he whispered and kept playing with the lettuce.

- "What if I tell you I made brownies? and you can have a brownie if you eat the soup?"- Spencer bit his lips and shook his head.

- "Why are you treating me like a kid?"

- "I am not! I'm blackmailing you with sugar as I would do under any other circumstance."-

And I wasn't lying. I would definitely try to force him to eat or do something with the promise of a brownie.

- "So? What do you say? Eat that soup, and we'll have brownies... with vanilla ice cream."

Reid stared into my eyes, and I held my breath. He was so pale, so thin. And yet, so beautiful.

- "If I vomit..."

- "If you vomit, you vomit. No hard feelings"- I smiled and tapped on his leg- "Besides, you need to get some vitamins in your body. You are too thin."

He didn't reply. He started eating slowly and kept watching Star Trek in silence.

Spencer successfully ate his bowl of soup and ate a little bit of the salad. I knew he hates veggies, so I didn't push him. As a reward, I prepared a big tray with brownies with ice cream, chocolate sauce, and hot chocolate with marshmallows and put it on the coffee table in front of us. We were about to start eating when we heard a knock on the door.

- "That's the nurse"- I said and stood up quickly. But I was wrong. It was Paul.

- "Babe... hey"- he smiled at me as soon as I opened the door and tried to walk in. But I didn't let him.

- "What are you doing here?"- I stood at the door and raised an eyebrow. I knew we didn't have a bad breakup, but after what he had said that night, I was afraid he might freak out to see Spencer in his pajamas watching tv on my couch.

- "I couldn't stop thinking about what happened the other night, and..."- he made a pause and looked inside- "What are you doing?"

- "I'm having dinner"

- "Alone?"- I didn't answer- "Can I come in?"

- "No"

- "Are you with someone? are you on a date?"- Paul pushed the door and stormed into my apartment. Reid turned around and looked at him, embarrassed.

- "What the fuck do you think you are doing? get out of my house!"- I grabbed my ex-boyfriend's sleeve and stopped him.

- "Hey, Paul"- Spencer waved from the couch, looking scared. His shoulders were tightened, and his eyes wide opened.

- "What is this nerd doing here?"- Paul turned to me, ignoring my friend.

- "What are you doing here? That's the question!"

- "I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day."

- "Well, sorry to crack the news, but if this is an apology, it sucks!"- I swear, I could feel my pulse speeding- "And there is nothing to talk or forgive, we broke up, and it was ok!"

- "Yeah, and now the nerd is here to make you feel better!"

- "You have no idea what you are talking about! And would appreciate it if you stop calling him that!!"- I freaked out and clenched my fist. I was going to lose it with him.

- "Good luck with the Ice Princess here!!"- Paul yelled at Reid- "If you are lucky, she is gonna hug you once!!"

- "Get out!"- I stood by the open door and slammed it as soon as he had left. My hands were shaking, my lips were quivering, and my eyes were tearing up.

- "Are you... are you ok?"- Spencer stood up and walked to me. He stumbled a little but managed to hold me. I didn't reply. I just broke into tears.

Why was I crying if I was glad I had broken up with Paul? Why was I so upset to see him at my house? Why was I shaking in anger?

Maybe I was just human, and I was tired of all the shit. Perhaps I was just sleepy or stressed with everything going on with Reid. Or the fact he kept thinking I had feelings for my best friend was too much for me.

Even the fact he called me "Ice Princess" hurt me. Yes, I wasn't a very physical person with him. But that was just because I wasn't in love with him.

For a few minutes, I just cried, soaking Spencer's pajamas as he held me tight, just like I had done for him the night before.

- "I'm sorry"- I whispered and sighed. I let him go and fixed my hair- "I shouldn't let Paul affect me so much, but I wasn't expecting to see him."

- "What happened?"- Spencer held my hand and took me to the couch with him. He handed me a dish with brownie and melted ice cream, and a spoon.

- "We broke up a few days ago."- my best friend looked at me in silence as his shaky thumb wiped off the tears on my cheeks.

- "I was actually planning dinner with the guys to give them the news, 'cos I knew they would like to celebrate... but that doesn't matter. You were right; I didn't love him. I don't know why I was still dating him."

- "I'm sorry"- he whispered and carefully wrapped me on a blanket.

- "Don't be. I really wanted to break up with him. I was just scared to lose who I used to be..."

- "You are never going to lose who you are, (Y/N)"- Spencer whispered and cut me a smile- "Frankie, Lu, and Mikey would never let that happen"- I sighed and nodded- "I won't let that happen either."

- "Thank you, honey"- I grabbed the spoon and took a big piece of brownie- "You know what bothers me? I don't know why I'm crying so much! I'm not sad! I'm angry!"

- "Actually, when you get mad, your body produces a flood of hormones that stimulate strong reactions in your body, like racing your heart and getting sweaty palms. In response to the elevated stress level, crying stimulates the release of oxytocin and prolactin. These two chemicals can bring your heart rate down and otherwise calm you after a stressful event."

- "Well, my fucking body makes me look weak and stupid!"

- "You could never look weak..."- Spencer hesitated for a second. It felt like he wanted to add something to those words but finally just stayed quiet.

- "Thank you, honey bunny. You are the best friend I could ever ask for."

- "Don't say that. You are the best friend I could have ever asked for."

We just stared for a few seconds. His eyes on mine, my hands still shaking, though I didn't know why.

It was a moment I knew I could never forget, 'cos it was the moment I first considered kissing Spencer.

It was a thought that only lasted for a second, but it was there. And like a seed planted on my brain, once I knew it was there, it could only grow and hunt me, like a ghost.

Spencer's point of view

My heart ached to see (Y/N) crying because of an asshole who never deserved her. And it also jumped of joy knowing she was no longer dating that jerk. I knew I could never make a move on her, but just to know she wasn't stuck with him made me happy.

But the fact she had gone through all that alone and didn't even talk about it for four days because she was too busy taking care of me made me feel awful. I didn't deserve any of that.

- "How are you feeling?"- she whispered and smiled at me after finishing her brownie- "Want me to heat your cocoa?"

- "I'm ok, thank you"

I stared at her in silence and decided to make the boldest move I have ever made with her, and opened my arm for her so that she could cuddle. She didn't hesitate and moved closer. I wrapped an arm around her, and her head rested on my chest. And trying not to make it look like a big deal, I also held her hand and caressed her skin, tracing random patterns on it.

- "I'm sorry for being such a bad friend"- I said and kissed the top of her head. I didn't plan it. I just did it. And it felt so good.

- "Don't say that."

- "I've been an asshole since Tobias."

- "You haven't... I mean, you have, but you had your reasons"- she made a pause and sighed. I knew something was bothering her, and I was hoping it wasn't our position because I loved how her warm body felt against mine.

- "Honey?"- she whispered, and I hummed as a response- "Would you call me a cold person?"

- "Never..."

- "I know I'm not a physical person, but..."

- "Me neither, and look at us"- I pointed out the obvious, and she softly giggled. He raised her head from my chest and turned to look at me. I swear all I could think of that minute was kissing her.

- "I am more loving with you than I ever was with Paul"- she confessed and sighed. Her eyes were sad. Clearly, what he had said to her had affected her more than she wanted to admit.

- "He didn't deserve it anyway"- she added and moved back to lay her head on my chest- "You do."

And after that, we just stayed like that, hugged on the couch, until the nurse knocked on the door.

- "You look much better"- I smiled at the nurse and nodded- "Still nauseous?"

- "Yes, but not as much as yesterday"- I whispered and looked at her, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around my arm, right next to all the marks I left with the needles. I wanted to hide them from everyone, and I thanked (Y/N) wasn't in the room. Of all people, she was the one I didn't want to see those marks the most.

- "They are going to fade soon"- the nurse whispered. I wasn't too subtle with my reaction, I guess. I just nodded and looked away.

- "Your girlfriend is taking excellent care of you. You are a fortunate guy"- I'm sure I blushed and turned to her immediately.

- "She... she is... she is not my girlfriend"- I felt I needed to explain it, I don't know why.

- "Really?"- and the nurse seemed to be in shock- "She surely loves you."

- "She is my best friend"- I whispered and felt how my heart was nearly bursting inside my chest.

- "You are lucky to have her"- she added, and I agreed.

I knew I was lucky. Even when (Y/N) wasn't my girlfriend, I knew I had to be with her. Always.

After thirteen days of home detox, I was back to being my old self again. I felt happy, healthy, and strong. I don't think I had ever felt that good before.

I loved spending those days with (Y/N), and I was pretty bummed I had to go back to my apartment the next day. The fact I had lived with her for two weeks was incredible. I knew it all happened under dark and miserable circumstances, but it had been life-changing.

Now I knew everything I wanted to know about her to help me make her day better and all her little quirks. Her favorite brands of tea, her favorite snacks. How she liked to take the last cup of tea of the day in bed, reading. Her favorite bands. How she always cooked singing. She always slept on her left side. And how after all those days, we would be so comfortable together, we would cuddle naturally, even without asking.

I don't want to overreact, but it was pretty heavenly to me, like the sensation I felt with the romantic poems mom used to read to me when I was little. Just don't tell anyone I said that.

- "Ok, dinner is ready"- (Y/N) announced and took the lasagna from the oven. I held a bowl of salad and walked with her to the dining room.

- "What do you wanna drink?"

- "A glass of wine, you?"

- "Red or white?"- I asked her and walked back to the kitchen. I didn't even wait for her answer. I took the white and two glasses. She smiled and sat down.

- "This looks amazing, (Y/N)"- and I wasn't lying.

- "Wait until you see dessert, we have three colors of Jell-O"- the fact she knew I loved jello wasn't what got me. It was how happy she looked to spoil me with my favorite dessert.

- "Thank you for cooking all my favorite meals."

- "You are welcome, honey bunny"- I smiled at her and poured a glass of wine for her and one for me.

- "Can I ask you something?"- I whispered, and she nodded- "Why do you call me honey bunny?"- she looked from her dish and giggled.

- "It took you forever to ask."

- "Well... I didn't want you to think I didn't like it..."

- "You don't?"- I wide opened my eyes and shook my head frenetically.

- "No! I love it! I just... don't know... where does it come from? You said I gave you the "honey bunny" vibes, but... what does that mean?"- (Y/N) chewed her lasagna and looked at me.

- "Well, I always loved that nickname. I thought it was adorable and never used it on anyone because no one ever gave me that vibe. I had never met my honey bunny before."

"My Honey Bunny." That woman was killing me, and she had no idea.

- "And I took it from Pulp Fiction"- she finally confessed and waited for my reaction- "Have you seen it?"

- "No"- I admitted and shrugged.

- "Then we are watching it after dinner tonight"- (Y/N) decided, and I nodded- "You still don't give me a nickname, by the way."

She had no idea, but I had a list of nicknames for her. I had written all the cute names I wanted to call on a notebook I kept in my satchel. But I didn't dare. I could call her cute names in my head all the time, but never out loud.

- "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, by the way"- she added and kept eating.

- "I have never done it before"- I accepted, feeling embarrassed- "Sorry."

- "Why are you sorry?"

- "I don't want you to think I don't want to call you by a loving nickname. I just..."

- "Come on, how would you call me? Do I give you any nickname vibe?"- I chuckled, and she smiled childishly.

- "I really like the story behind "nugget." I think it's brilliant"- she shook her head, and her cheeks blushed- "But for you... I think I have three options."

- "So you've given it some thoughts!"- I nodded and took a sip of wine- "Let me hear them."

- "Well... after that case in Oregon when you got lost in the woods, I thought I could call you "chipmunk"- I confessed and watched her face light up.

- "I love that!"

- "Really?"- I chuckled and looked at her holding my breath- "Well... then I remembered how we became friends and your obsession with cupcakes, so I thought I could call you that."

- "I love that too!!"

- "And..."- since I was honest, I took it a little further- "After last Halloween, and all the carving we did, and our movie marathon, I thought "pumpkin" was pretty sweet too."

(Y/N) sighed and smiled at me, her cheeks blushing and her eyes shining.

- "They are all awesome, so you should use them all, and I can look for more nicknames for you"- I simply stared at her and felt how my heart melted.

- "Ok"- I whispered, and she raised an eyebrow playfully.

- "Ok, what?"

- "Ok... pumpkin"- I whispered and held my breath at the sound of those words leaving my lips.

She really didn't have a clue about what she did to me.

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic @archer561

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: May 19th, 2021

#Spencer Reid #Matthew Gray gubler #Criminal Minds #mgg #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #fluf #angst #Criminal Minds rewrite #babymetaldoll edits #babymetaldoll writes #DIWK #Spencer Reid x reader #matthew gray gubler

186 notes · View notes

squiggledrop · 4 years

Text

Tying the Knot - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 1: No Strings

Part 2: Frayed Ends

Summary: Strings Part 3– Spencer and Reader have a friends with benefits arrangement. The only problem is, they both have feelings for each other. Spencer tries to fix things between them and convince Reader to let down her guard and let herself love him.

Word count: 3k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: implied smut, crying, kissing

Note: Thank you so much to everyone who showed so much support for the other two parts!! You all mean the world to me!

Spencer sat on the subway alone that night, his mind swarming with thoughts of you. When he saw you smiling earlier today, he knew he never wanted to see it fade, and that he would do whatever he could to make sure it stayed like that.

He loved you. There was no denying that. He felt horrible that you thought he didn’t love you because that was the farthest from the truth. He needed to tell you how he really felt. He couldn’t live with himself otherwise, knowing that you thought he really meant it when he said it was just sex. It was never just sex, at least not to him. It was never just anything when it came to you.

That night, he decided to write you a letter explaining everything. He came to the conclusion that it was the safest option, and if things went in an unfavorable manner, it was the easiest medium to recover from and pretend nothing happened.

So, that’s how Spencer found himself sat up at his desk all night, crumped paper littering his floor, as he tried to pour all his feelings for you onto a piece of paper. Needless to say, he didn’t get much sleep that night.

The next morning, Spencer gently placed the cream envelope on your desk, fiddling with the corners to make sure it was noticeable. He looked around the room, feeling his heart rate increase. How would you react? Would you throw it away and never talk to him again or would you realize that you love him too? Spencer told himself he would be okay either way, so long as you knew how he felt. He didn’t want to hide his feelings from you. He knew you were it for him, and he would love you for the rest of his life. And if he would have to hold his unrequited love for you for the rest of eternity, he would do so happily, knowing that he was honest with you and gave it his all. He couldn’t live with himself, thinking you didn’t know the extent of his feelings for you. Trying to calm his nerves, he ran his thumb along the pads of his fingers. Not wanting to be here when you read the letter, he heads to the bathroom when he hears the ding of the elevator.

Taking a deep breath, you walked into the bullpen. You had already survived one day of heartache, what’s one more? Sure, with every breath you took, you could still hear Spencer’s last words to you piercing your lungs: “I didn’t mean it. It’s just sex.” And every time you closed your eyes, you were met with his cold, rigid frame walking away from you, as if you meant nothing to him. Which apparently was the case. How could you be so stupid and think he actually meant it. But, it doesn’t even matter now, because no matter how much you want to blame this on Spencer, you can’t. Yes, he broke the rules, but you were the one who left. You were the one who took a heat of the moment slip up and blew it out of proportion and pushed away the one good thing in your life.

When you got to your desk, you threw down your bag, grateful that Spencer was nowhere to be seen. Although, you would lie if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed. As you took out some paperwork from your bag, you noticed an envelope sitting on your desk next to a stack of papers. You felt your heart clench, instantly recognizing the handwriting your name was written in on the back of it. Slowly, you wedged your finger under the flap, breaking the seal. You pulled out the slightly crumpled lined paper that looked as if it had been read through a hundred times already. Letting out a small gasp, you fell into your seat, scanning the room for Spencer. Not seeing him anywhere, you held up the letter with shaky hands, your watery eyes pouring over every word.

(Y/n),

Throughout every book I have read and paper I have written, words never seem to fail me, that is until it comes to you. No matter how many times I try to write this, it still doesn’t feel good enough. I have read countless stories about the triumphs and tribulations of love. I have tried finding a single one that could capture even an ounce of the love I hold for you, but they all fall short.

I think that’s because, when I read the words that surround me on these dusty shelves, I am reminded of all the things I love about you. Ask me to find a poem about your beauty and I can do that with no problem. Ask me to find a book about how it feels to kiss you and make love to you, and I can reach for one without leaving this chair. But, ask me to find one that perfectly explains why I love you, and I would not be able to.

Yes, I love your beautiful smile and sparkling eyes. I love how it feels to hold you in my arms and press my lips all over your captivating body. I love everything about you, even the parts that you deem unworthy, but that is not why I love you.

I love you because, in a group of people, you are the only one I care that is laughing at my stupid jokes. I love you because when I am having a terrible day, you are the person I want to sit with me and just breathe. You are the person I trust with all my secrets, and the one person I want to share all my accomplishments with. I love you because you are the person I want to bicker with over stupid, petty things. You are the person I want to set off the fire alarm with while attempting to cook dinner and the person I want to yell at me for getting the wrong kind of milk at the grocery store. You are the person I want to wake up next to every morning, sipping our coffees in a calming silence before we head into work.

We see the darkest parts of humanity through our job. Yet, every time I look at you, I am reminded of how beautifully wonderful life can be. You make my life beautiful. And because of that, I love you.

I lied. That night, when I said that I didn’t mean it, I lied. I meant it, and I mean every word that I just wrote. (Y/n) (Y/l/n), I love you. I love you so much that it consumes every part of me. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt my feelings for you. I will never do that again. I love you.

I know you said not to get feelings involved, but I have loved you from the first day I met you.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I lied. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I broke our rule and that you left. But, I’m not sorry for saying it. I will never be sorry for telling you how I feel. Because I love you. I just hope that you love me too.

All my love,

Spencer Reid

Tears now covered the paper in your hands, and you threw it onto the desk, not wanting anyone to see you like this. You cupped your hand over your mouth, trying to hold back your sobs until you made it to the file room. Once inside, you collapsed onto the floor, slamming the door shut behind you. You don’t know what to feel. You are so overwhelmed and your heart is beating too fast and Spencer’s words that are replaying in your head are too loud. You don’t know what to do, so you do all you can do, and just sit there.

Spencer convinces himself that he has given you sufficient time to read the letter and that he should probably make an appearance. If not for you, then at least to actually do some work. What’s the worst that could happen? You ignore each other again? He could handle that, or so he tells himself. He just has to walk out there and sit down at his desk. He can do that.

Exiting the bathroom, his steps falter as he notices you aren’t at your desk. He walks over, noticing that the envelope had been opened. But, when he looks at the contents of the letter, his heart drops. The ink is smudged with tear stains. He didn’t mean to make you cry. That’s the last thing he wanted. He curses himself for hurting you even more and begins frantically searching the office for you.

He hears muffled sobs coming from the file room, and he reluctantly knocks on the door. After hearing nothing in response except for your continued whimpers that were sending daggers through his chest, he forces himself to open the door. When he sees your disheveled state on the ground, he gasps, feeling guilty for causing you to feel this way.

At the sound of the door opening, you turn your head, revealing your puffy eyes. Upon noticing that it was Spencer, you quickly stood up, trying to dry your cheeks. You both stood there in shock, not knowing what to say. Through your foggy eyes, you notice as tears begin to form in his sullen eyes too. Both of you looked miserable, and it broke the other’s heart.

Spencer was the first to say something, breaking the silence. “I-I’m so sorry for making you cry, I didn’t-”

“Spence-” you cut him off. You didn’t think you could handle the sound of his pained, raspy voice. You didn’t trust yourself, not with how broken you felt inside.

“No. I just- I need to say this,” he insisted. Reluctantly, you nod, figuring it was the least you could do while trying to stop any more tears from falling. “I meant every word,” he continued, trying to meet your gaze. “A-and I don’t want to take it back, any of it. I don’t regret any of it. I-I love you (Y/n).”

You sigh at his words, unsure of how to respond. There was no doubting what you felt about this man, but you couldn’t admit that to yourself, let alone him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you croaked out. You still hadn’t dared meet his eyes, but you could feel his heavy gaze penetrating into you.

“I want you to say you love me too,” he whispered.

“You know I can’t do that.” You bit your lip as you shook your head.

“Why not?” The desperation in his voice was almost palpable. You swallowed thickly before speaking again.

“Look Spencer, I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I can’t be what you deserve, but I-”

“But that’s just it,” he interjected. “I don't need you to be anything but yourself. That’s all I need. You are all I need. I love you and I just need you to let me.”

“But Spencer, I-”

“Please,” he begged, shaking his head while on the verge of tears. “I can’t listen to you say you can’t do this. I can’t listen to you lie to me and to yourself. I know you love me too. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be here crying.” You roll your eyes, running your hand through your hair. “If I'm wrong, and you truly want me to stop, I will.”

You were silent. Spencer’s eyes searched yours for an answer, for any indication that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

“Am I wrong?” he pressed. The insecurity he was trying so hard to quell still seeped through his voice.

After another moment of silence, you looked away, blinking away more tears that fell.

“No.” you choked out, looking up at the ceiling. “God, Spencer, why do you have to make this so difficult?” You look back at him, finally meeting his gaze. “Of course I love you. How could I not?”

“Then what’s the problem?” he demanded, stepping towards you. But, you still backed away from his touch.

“Because I love you too much,” you whispered.

Spencer’s mouth opened as looked at you, confusion clouding his face. “I-I don’t understand.”

“Fuck, Spence,” you sighed, gathering your thoughts. “I can’t let you love me just so I can hurt you later on, okay? Every time I've let someone in, I end up hurting them. And I've hurt you enough already.”

Spencer stared at you in disbelief, trying to formulate a response. At his silence, you swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing past him towards the door. Before you could, however, Spencer grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“I don’t care,” he whispered. His eyes bore deep into yours, his hand that still clung to your wrist was burning your skin.

“Spence-” you scoffed, pleading with him.

“No!” he shouted, full-on sobbing now. You reluctantly rolled your eyes again, trying not to show him how the tears that dripped down his face were plummeting straight into your heart, each one forming creators in the fragile fabric of your wounded heart. Spencer swallowed thickly before continuing. “You don’t get to decide how I feel or what I can handle, okay? That’s up to me. I love you and that’s all that matters. I don’t care if we break up in fifty years or in five weeks. I love you, just give me a chance before you give up on us. I-” he choked on a sob, “you haven’t even given me a chance”, he whimpers.

You were so close to caving in and just letting yourself give in to him. You wanted to feel his arms around you again. You desperately missed how safe and warm they made you feel.

“But what if we do break up?” you cried, looking deep into his eyes.

“Then we break up.”

“But I can’t lose you, Spence. I-I couldn’t survive it. I don’t want to know what it’s like to have you just for it all to be taken away one day”

“Who says I’m ever going to leave?” Your mouth opened and closed, you didn’t know what to say. “(Y/n), I love you. Even if we break up, I promise I will always be there for you.” He ran his hand through his hair, pacing slightly in the tiny room. “God, (Y/n), before I met you I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone this much, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you.” He stopped moving, turning directly towards you. “But, I can only do that if you let me. I-I know it’s hard to let yourself be vulnerable, but I promise I’m here to catch you. It’s okay if you want to go slow, I’m willing to wait as long as you need. I just need you to not act like it’s over before we’ve even started.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t know, okay?”, you snapped, looking up at him

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Everything Spencer!” you admitted a bit too loudly. “Everything…” you sobbed, collapsing. Spencer rushed forward, catching you in his arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around your back, supporting you. He ran his hands up and down your back, trying to soothe your muffled cries that stained his shirt. He could feel his own tears running down his face, but at that moment, he didn’t care about anything but holding you, so he let them roll down his face and into your hair.

Your mind was racing, voicing screaming at you to leave and never look back. They told you that you were only hurting him more and that you were ruining everything.

But, when you felt Spencer’s gentle hands roaming your back and his soft hushes brushing against your ear, you had never felt safer. When you had finally calmed down and your breath steadied, you pulled back slightly so you could look at him. You stared at Spencer, into his deep amber eyes. For the first time, you didn’t see all the ways you could destroy him and lose everything. Instead, you saw a future. You saw all the possible ways in which you could love him and share a life together. Slowly, after taking a deep breath, you nodded your head.

“Okay”, you whispered.

Spencer’s face lit up upon hearing you. “Yeah?” he asked, weary that one wrong move would send you running.

“Yeah,” you smiled, falling back into his open arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, never wanting to let you go. He sighed in relief and kissed the top of your head while rubbing your back. Your arms tightened around his neck as you lifted your head to his ear. He could feel your warm breath on his neck, sending comforting shivers down his spine.

“I love you too,” you breathed into his ear. You pulled back slightly, but before you could do anything, Spencer smashed hip lips onto yours. He kissed you with such passion, that swore you felt your heart become physically tethered to his.

When you finally broke apart, desperate for air, you looked at each other, both standing there with glassy eyes, reflecting each other's smiles. You held one another in comfortable silence, knowing that regardless of what uncertainties the future held, it would be okay, because Spencer loves you, and you love him.

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series taglist: @eevee0722 @infinity1321 @dracoxmgg @username2002 @dracomikaelson

386 notes · View notes

xx-narcissa · 3 years

Text

Can’t Wait Any Longer

warnings: kidnapping, poisoning, noncon

a/n: i wasn’t comfortable with full on smut right now, i’m still easing into it. but i hope that this was written to your liking!

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Avenger!Reader

request: “We can have dark! r x nat where r is an avenger and is in love with nat but nat never pays attention to her, so r decides to kidnap her maybe with some smut only if you feel comfortable.”

Masterlist

(not my gif)

Your blood boiled as you watched the scene in front of you. Bruce kissing her hand in front of everybody with no shame. He should be ashamed. That was your hand to kiss and he was just all on it! And she let him. Giggling and blushing like a middle school girl getting a love note from her crush.

“Aw. Young love.” Tony chuckled and took a big sip of his beer. You wanted to smack the glass bottle out of his hands for that comment. “Better enjoy it while it lasts, Bruce.”

Yeah. He better enjoy it. Because you’re going to make it your mission to take her back. Although you never really had her in the first place. But she’s yours. Bruce doesn’t deserve her. Nobody deserves her. Because they could never give her what you can. They could never love her like you do. She just doesn’t see that. Always brushing you off to the side.

It was a mission in Canada, so naturally it was pretty cold. And seeing as it was the middle of January, it was very cold. You offered her your jacket. “No, you keep it. I’m fine.” Even when you insisted, she turned you down. Yet later you see her casually sporting Steve’s jacket. What’s up with that? You wanted to confront her. What did his jacket have that yours didn’t? But Wanda assured you it wasn’t a big deal. And that’s not even the only time she’s done something like that. You and her were in the kitchen after a mission, and she complained about her shoulders being sore. So you offered to massage them, claiming you know a really good way to relieve tension. You didn’t. But it was just an excuse to be able to feel her. She turned you down. Then later she’s bragging to Wanda about how good Tony is at massages. What was so special about him? Nothing! But it seemed like Natasha would stop at nothing to push you away.

You don’t even know what you did to deserve that kind of treatment. Sure, you flirt with her a lot. But it’s never to a creepy extent. Just casual compliments and offering to do her favors. If she wasn’t into you, she could just turn you down using her words and then maybe you’d back off. But instead she was playing hard to get.

And that only made you want her more.

-=-

There was a mission today. A two person mission. You and Natasha. This would be a perfect chance for the two of you to get closer. It’s a week long stakeout. Usually you don’t like stakeouts, since you feel it’s a waste of your powers. You can literally summon fire with your hands and not get burnt and they want you to watch a building? How boring. But since it’s with Natasha, you won’t complain. Alone time with her is a reward in its own. And it gives you a chance to finally execute the plan you’ve been working on for weeks.

“Guess this is where we’re staying for the next week.” You sighed as the two of you entered the little apartment. The wallpaper was moldy and peeling, there were roaches crawling around, and it smelled like 50 diseased rats died in there.

She gagged and put her bag on top of the counter. “Well let’s just try to get this done quickly, so that we don’t have to spend any extra time here. It’s disgusting.”

Nodding in agreement, you continued to explore the apartment. There was only one bedroom with only one bed, so you made a mental note to let her sleep there, since it looked cleaner than the couch. The shower was just as disgusting as the main room, but you brought shower shoes so you could live with it. After your quick tour, you met back up with Natasha in the main room, where she was going through her bag.

“I’ll take the couch. You can have the bed.” You offered and sat down on the counter.

“Are you sure? That’s nice but I don’t want to take it all for myself. We could alternate if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. And trust me, the bed is way cleaner so if I were you I’d just take it.” You snapped. She flinched, and you knew you took it a bit too far. It’s just annoying when she constantly declines your offers when you’re just trying to be nice and make her comfortable. “Sorry. Just…yeah. You take the bed, I’ll go check the perimeter and see if there’s anything to eat nearby.”

After your perimeter check you picked up some sandwiches at the small subway they had down the street and brought them back up to the apartment. “Thanks, I’m starving.” She sighed happily when you walked in with food. To be honest, being back in that nasty apartment killed your appetite a bit, but you hadn’t eaten all day so you sucked it up and ate.

The two of you ate and got to talk a bit, getting to know each other some more. Well, she got to know you. But you already knew plenty about her. You’re just a good listener like that. The most important thing was that she was starting to trust you more, which would be a key part in putting your plan into motion.

Once you guys finished your mission and got all the information you needed, you still had a day to spare. So you decided you’d stay and just not tell them you were done yet, so you can get a little vacation, even if it is in a dingy, dirty apartment. It was your last morning there, so you wanted to surprise Natasha with some homemade breakfast. Special recipe.

“Good morning! You want pancakes?” She thought for a second before nodding. Great, she took the offer with none of her usual resistance. You placed some pancakes on a plate and gave her a glass of orange juice. “Tell me if you like it.” You smiled and sat down next to her to watch her eat. She ate the first bite cautiously, then ate the rest rather quickly.

After drinking all the juice, she slammed the cup onto the table. “Those were the best pancakes I’ve ever had.”

“Well, you know, I could always make you more.” You smiled and ran your fingers up her arm. And she smiled back. That’s a win in your eyes.

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that offer. But I’m pretty full right now. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go take a quick nap.”

You waved her off and then put the dishes in the sink. Everything was falling into place and you couldn’t be happier.

-=-

When her eyes opened, she didn’t know what was going on or where she was. It seemed like some abandoned factory by the looks of it. Her clothes didn’t belong to her. And she couldn’t even get up to look around, seeing as she was tied up on the floor.

In the shadows, she saw something moving. Maybe it would be her captor. And she could kick their ass and escape.

“Oh, you’re up! Great.” Her heart and her mouth dropped at the voice. “Sorry about the location. Couldn’t find anywhere comfortable on such short notice.”

She looked up at you with tears forming in her eyes. “What’s going on, why are you doing this? Are you being brainwashed or something?”

You laughed at her stupid questions. “What ever do you mean? This is all me, Natasha. I’m sorry to have to do this, but you brought it onto yourself. You could’ve had this.” You motioned towards yourself and got closer to her. “But no. You wanted to toy with me. Play hard to get. Pretend you don’t want me and then flirt with everyone else right in front of my face. Well I’m done playing those games. So no more playful flirting. I’m taking what’s mine.”

“You’re sick. I swear, I’m not to get out of here and then I’m going to kill you! Slowly and painfully.” She screamed and squirmed around in her restraints.

All her struggling was amusing to you. It gave you a good laugh. “I know you’re a trained assassin, but it’s not like you have superpowers. Without a gun you really pose no threat to me. Hell, if I’m not careful I could kill you right now.” Your hands ignited, displaying your pyrokinesis, just in case she had forgotten that you could burn her to a crisp whenever you would like.

It worked, because she shut up. She looked down at the ground in silence, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh, cheer up. Once your spirit is broken down enough and I know you won’t try anything funny, I’ll untie you and we can leave and live a happy life together. I might hurt you, but it’s just because I love you. I love you so much and it hurts me when you flirt with other people. So once you’re as loyal as I am, then we’ll get out of this smelly place. Okay?”

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t do anything. That angered you. So you slapped her in her face. The force being enough to topple her over. And that wasn’t even the hardest you could’ve hit her. “Answer me, bitch!” You yelled and got close to her face, probably getting some spit on her but you didn’t care. “Do you understand me?”

She nodded frantically and tried to move away from you. So you let her squirm for a second before pulling her back. Seeing the Black Widow shaking in fear really turned you on. You needed to see her. To feel her.

“You know, you should thank me. I changed your clothes and I didn’t even touch you down there. I restrained myself.” You grabbed her hips and dug your nails into them, pulling her closer. “Mainly because I want to hear you when I fuck you. I want to see what your pretty little face looks like when you’re all filled up. But also because I’m decent. So, yeah, you’re welcome.”

You closed the gap between you two and your lips collided with hers. For you it was heaven. It was erotic and steamy and everything you’ve ever wished for. But for her it was a completely different story. It was hell. Sloppy, painful, and lacking any true feelings. Even if she wasn’t kissing you back, you still enjoyed yourself. Your hands went underneath the shirt you gave her, cupping her braless breasts. She involuntarily leaned into your touch, moaning softly, allowing you to slide your tongue into her. Your hand slid down, cupping her heat through her panties, feeling the wetness of her arousal. “See? You’re enjoying yourself,” You pulled away from the kiss to say. You kissed down her neck, biting and leaving marks. She hated how her body betrayed her and got turned on. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it. You were in control.

And she hated the feeling of emptiness she felt when you stopped and stood back up, leaving her still on the ground. “Yeah. We’re gonna have so much fun. Not yet, but soon. Until then, I’ll be back. I’m going to go get some food. You stay here.” You laughed at your own sentence, “Get it? It’s funny ‘cause you can’t go anywhere!” You continued to laugh until you had left the warehouse, leaving her alone and confused.

You were gone for probably two hours. But to Natasha it felt like days. The whole time she was looking for a way out, yet there was nothing. You were thorough with this place, making sure there wasn’t anything sharp she could reach to cut the rope, or anything she could climb on to get out through one of the windows.

When you came back, Natasha was curled into a ball silently crying. “Cheer up. I got you some food from this nice ramen place. Maybe I can take you there one day.” You put the food down on the floor in front of her and even gave her some water.

“You know, they’re going to wonder why I never came back. And then they’re going to find me and kill you! Pervert!” She spat. Instead of arguing back like she wanted you to, you laughed and walked away, leaving her alone to eat. The rest of the day she sat there thinking about how alone and scared she was. She didn’t know if she’d ever see her family again.

You won. This time.

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #avenger!reader #tw kidnapping #tw noncon #request

91 notes · View notes

purple-vixen · 4 years

Text

Love is a Locked Door - Dick Grayson/Reader

Summary: Damian asks you and Dick to check if there are any monsters in his closet. Somehow the two of you end up locked in there.

You have been friends with Dick for quite some time now. He was definitely one of your favorite people in the world. Dick was funny, kind, smart and selfless, and also strong and very, very handsome. Though the latter ones you never dared to say out loud.

You were in love with Dick Grayson, and you kept this secret under lock and key. Making a move never really crossed your mind. You and he were friends for so long that you were convinced he would never see you in the same light you saw him, besides, you were afraid of ruining your friendship. No one understood you like him, there was no way you were going to risk it.

Being his friend meant you were a regular Wayne Manor visitor, consequently being able to witness Dick's crazy siblings. They all adored you, though Damian was the one who became most fond of you. In the beginning he tried to hide it, but eventually stopped doing so. It was very surprising for the batfamily to see Damian getting attached to someone so quickly.

Damian would show you his action figure collection, play violin for you, ask your opinion on his paintings and he introduced you to every single one of his pets. Not to mention the times Damian would show up in your apartment's balcony seeking advice or just someone to talk to and you two would chat and drink tea all night. You always scolded him for not using the door like any other normal person, but after seeing it was not going to work you decided to let it slide.

You saw Damian like the little brother you never had. He was a cute little cinnamon roll. A deadly cinnamon roll that knew how to kill a person with just two fingers, but a cinnamon roll nonetheless. Which is why you were not able to say "No" to Damian when he asked for you and Dick to check if there were monsters inside his bedroom’s closet.

You and your best friend were now inside there, each one holding a flashlight in your hand, pointing the beams to every shelf, hanger, pile of clothes and corners possible. You had to admit, you had the impression something was a bit off, considering that Damian and Jason were also in the room and they still haven't tried to kill each other yet.

Although the closet was spacious, you and Dick accidentally bumped into each other. He grabbed your shoulders to stop you from falling and you could feel your heart beating so fast it felt like it would jump off your chest at any second.

— Be careful. — He whispered softly. You were glad it was too dark for him to see you blushing as he wrapped his strong arms around you.

— Uhm… Found any monsters yet? — Damian anxiously paced back and forth as he watched his oldest brother and you turning his wardrobe upside down.

— Not yet. —

— And if we do, we're gonna kick its ass. — Dick added.

— Hey, (Y/n). —

— Yes, Damian? —

— Thank you for helping me. —

— Anytime, Dami. I'll always be there. — You walked up to Damian just to ruffle his hair, the youngest Wayne shyly grinned in response.

Dick let out a soft chuckle. Little did you know, to Dick Grayson, you weren't just his friend anymore, you became the one he fell in love with. Seeing you and Damian interacting always made his heart melt like crazy. He thought it was so adorable, you were so adorable. It made him want to kiss you even more than he already longed for.

— What is it? — You raised your eyebrows in confusion at your friend.

— Nothing, nothing. I just... remembered a joke. — Dick scratched the back of his neck, cheeks tinting a light tone of pink as the image of being close to your lips secretly ran through his imagination. — D-Don't stand too far from the door, Damian, you have to watch it for us. — He changed the topic.

— I already am watching. Just keep looking, Grayson. — Damian answered.

— Aren't you too old for the "There are monsters in my closet phase? — Jason was plopped head over heels on the bed, playing Subway Surfers on Dick's phone since his had run out of battery a long time ago. His green eyes glued to the screen, tongue sticking out as he tried to beat his brother's record.

— Jason, take it easy, he's just a kid. — Dick sighed. Being the older one, it always fell to him to cease his siblings' bickering.

— Aren't you too old to be alive? — Damian snapped back to Jason.

— Damian! — Dick rebuked.

— Oh, I spy with my little eye a very ugly monster, he's 4 foot 8 and wearing a turtleneck. — Jason teased.

— And I can see a deadweight spreading germs on my bed. —

— Enough, you two! — Dick ordered with authority. — Jason, give me my phone. Since you and Damian will keep on arguing I want it back. —

On his way to his older brother, Jason winked at Damian, who nodded back. As soon as he handed the phone to Dick, Jason smirked at him and then quietly sat back on the bed like nothing happened, hands on his lap with a rather comical angelic face.

— Sorry about that, (Y/n). — Dick changed to a soft tone as he stared at you with puppy eyes.

— It was taking too long, I guess that's a Guinness record. — You joked, trying to lighten up the mood. — Don't worry, I signed up for this when I became your friend. —

— Yeah… Friend. — He mumbled to himself.

You two went back to searching Damian's closet. A couple minutes had passed when the young boy cleared his throat, trying to get yours and his eldest brother's attention.

— Father is requesting me for an emergency. I must go. — He announced.

— Well, I better get going too. Old man's request is an order. And who am I to say no to beating up criminals? — Jason instantly jumped out of the bed and put on his leather jacket.

Words weren't exchanged, yet with just one look you knew what Dick had to say when he turned to you: "I have to leave."

The moment Dick got up and started to walk away, Damian rushed out of his bedroom, leaving the closet door unattended.

— Damian, wait! The...— Before you were able to finish your sentence, a loud slamming sound reverberated. —...door. —

You pointed your flashlight to the doorknob and tried to open it.

— It's broken. Last time Alfred went here to put away Damian's clothes he ended up locked till someone opened on the outside. — Dick commented.

— I know, but it was worth a try. — You shrugged your shoulders. — Talking about Alfred, We could try calling him. I bet he's the only person in the Manor right now. You know, beside us. —

— Great idea! — He took his phone out of his pocket. Dick unlocked his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Alfred's name, he barely had time to hit the "dial" button before his phone ran out of battery and turned off. — Jason. — Dick growled, recalling the fact Jason borrowed his phone to play games.

— No prob. I can get my phone, it's in my purse… My god, I'm so stupid. I left my purse! — Dick burst laughing and you elbowed him, only causing him to erupt an even louder chuckle.

— Well, that's better. — He shrugged his shoulders.

— How can it be better? We're locked in a closet! —

— There was that one time I got stuck inside a garbage truck with the Riddler. —

This time you were the one laughing. That's one of the many reasons you loved him, he always knew how to make you smile no matter what the situation was.

— I bet you loved hearing his riddles all night. —

— Believe it or not, that wasn't even the worse part. I had to soak my suit for an entire week. —

— But seriously, how are we gonna get out? — You asked as soon as the laughter died down.

— To be honest, I have no idea. —

You both tried yelling at the door to see if anybody would show up. Then Dick tried doing the credit card trick he often used to open doors, it didn't work.

You started avidly searching for something you could pry the door open with. Eventually you encountered Damian's arsenal. The fact Damian kept a stash of deadly weapons inside his closet didn't surprise any of you.

Dick tried picking the lock with a sai and you tried slashing the doorknob with a sword. Dick would have found quite hot the way you wielded the katana and made a perfect dash attack, would have, that was if you didn't almost slice him with the sword on accident. As the last shot, Dick tried to force the doors open by throwing himself at them, the doors were blocked by something neither of you could tell and Dick lightly hurt his shoulder.

— Don't worry. I've been through worse. — Dick reassured.

— Dick, that does NOT leave me less worried about you. You could have a paper cut or a gunshot wound and I'd worry the same. —

— So you're worried about me, huh? — You could see his remarkable smirk dimly lit by the flashlight.

— I'm always worried about you, you idiot! — Dick's smirk grew wider at your reply. — Gosh, sometimes I wish I could wipe that smirk off your face. — You grumbled as you crossed your arms.

— Then why don't you try it? — Dick snapped in a flirty tone.

You inclined yourself towards him and your lips touched his. It was just a peck, it lasted for a couple seconds but for the two of you it felt like the time froze.

— Did that work? — You lifted an eyebrow. But then rolled your eyes when you realized that his wide smirk had become a full grin.

— I think you should try it again. — Dick pulled you closer to him.

Once again your lips met. This time the kiss was hungrier, needier. If only you knew that kissing him would feel that great, you wouldn't have held back for so long. Now that you were there, so close to him, you were free. And so was he.

Dick always pictured how it would feel like to slide his tongue in your mouth as you tugged his hair. And it was so, damn, good. Better than he ever wondered it could be. Dick felt in cloud nine, sensing goosebumps as your fingertips roamed around his abs. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, your chest was pulled flush against his, yet it still wasn't close enough.

You both pulled away breathless. The room was dimly lit, but as Dick tried to regain his breath, you could see his sapphire blue eyes with the pupils blown out.

— I guess that worked. — You joked.

— I should try being cocky more often. — He replied with that same flirty tone. — So… How long did you…? —

— For a while. —

— Yeah, me too. What took you so long? —

— Well... I was afraid things would get awkward between us. I wasn't sure if you liked me back. —

— Are you kidding me? I've been dropping hints for months! — He chuckled. — After all of this is over do you want to go on a date with me? —

— I'd love to. — You grinned.

You two were about to continue your makeout session when suddenly the creek of the door was heard, the bright light from the bedroom almost blinding your eyes since you got used to the dark from being locked in there. Both you and Dick jumped out of each other, in an attempt to not get caught.

— Okay kids, seven minutes in heaven is over! — Jason mocked after opening the door to your way out. Damian right behind him.

— Seven minutes? We've been locked here for two hours! — Dick protested.

— You say it like you weren't enjoying it. C'mon, just thank us. — He smirked.

— What do you mean by "thank" the two of you? Wait… You planned this? — You questioned.

— It was actually Damian's evil master plan, but I helped him execute it. Ya know, making Dick's phone run out of battery, hiding your purse, pushing the desk in front of the door so that you couldn't bust the door down. That kind of stuff. — Jason shrugged his shoulders.

— And apparently it all went well. — Damian nodded. — TT. Maybe too well. —

— Dami! — You rebuked. — Why did you do that? —

— I figured that if you started dating Grayson, you would have an excuse to visit us more often. — He crossed his arms as his cheeks blushed.

— You're aware that if that happens she will come here to visit just Dick, right? — Jason asked.

— Lay a finger on her and you're a dead man, Grayson! — Damian snarled and grabbed your hand, dragging you along with him as he started running. You couldn't help but chuckle at the fact the 11-year-old was so protective of you.

— Hey! I want my date back! — Dick whined and started running after you.

You rolled your eyes at the two boys as you ran, you knew tonight would be a long night since you first arrived at the Manor.

#dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dc comics imagines #batfamily #jason todd #damian wayne #imagines #imagine

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beclynn-herondale · 3 years

Text

Another thing with Clace I wrote and never posted

Jace was taking the subway to go to Clary's house. She'd messaged him asking him to come. So he snuck out of the Institute, not because he wasn't allowed to but because he didn't want to answer anyone's questions. and so he didn't wake them.

As he rode on the subway he listened to music. He had headphones in; Clary had given them to him, saying this way he could listen to music all the time. She'd also picked music for him to listen to.

Once he walked down the street to her house, he went around to where her window was and opened it. He knew it'd be unlocked, they'd done this a million times, okay maybe not a million but enough times. He pulled himself up through the window and landed onto her bed.

Once he looked up, he saw her sitting on the edge. Her red curls messy from the tossing and turning of wanting sleep, but sleep didn't always come. After what happened with Simon, Clary hadn't been sleeping as well. Not unless Jace was there. He understood, he slept better when she was beside him.

"Clary," he whispered, "are you okay?"

She turned her head and smiled at him, but he saw her eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"Hey, you," she said, quietly. Not wanting to wake her mother, who might chase Jace away if she found them.

"Clary," he said again. This time his voice gentle and worried.

"I'm okay," she said. "Also take your boots off."

There she was. "Alright," he said.

She crawled into the bed, over to him. Helping him untie his boots. "I got it," he said.

"I know. I just want to help."

"You help enough."

"Do I?"

He sucked his breath in, knowing there was a deeper meaning to that. "Clary. . ."

"Sorry," she said. "Damnit. I need to stop."

"You don't need to stop," he said. "Clary, you can grieve as long as you need to."

She looked up at him and those unshed tears fell. He took his boots off and tossed them aside. Then took her into his arms, stroking her hair, and kissing her head.

"It's alright," he said. "Take as long as you need."

She sniffled into his shoulder.

Simon's memory loss had hit all of them pretty hard, but not as hard as it hit Clary and Izzy. It sucked watching the love of your life and your sister who you would do anything for and loved dearly, be in such unsupportable pain and grief. Magnus seemed like he felt so guilty. Alec blamed himself too. And Jace could just watch, as they all went through their grief. He did what he could for them, but Jace wasn't all that great at the comfort stuff. He tried to be though. He tried to comfort Izzy as best he could, he remembered the night Magnus had thrown a party and he offered to dance with her, and got her to laugh for the first time in weeks. Or the night when him and Alec had stayed with her and she slept completely through the night. but it wasn't the same as when Alec and Magnus broke up, because it wasn't a break up. Simon sacrificed himself for everyone else, leaving Izzy behind, forgetting her, but it wasn't his fault. But Izzy's heart was still hurting, she was hurting and there was no way to make it better. It wasn't fair, he would think to himself, when he'd catch Izzy crying but trying not to or Clary breaking down. Clary also, he'd forgotten Clary and Jace saw how much it hurts her, after everything, everything she sacrificed and gave up, in the end she had to give more.

They sat like this, Clary crying silently into his shoulder and him kissing stroking her hair for a while. When she pulled away and looked up at him; he saw there were still tears running down her face. He reached up to wipe them away. This he could do.

"Thank you," she said, her voice almost hoarse.

"For what?"

"For coming tonight. For coming every night I ask you to."

"I'll always come when you need me," he said.

"Same here," she said. "I feel like I am always worried about only me and my grief these days. Izzy will occasionally be honest with me but she's stubborn. I also forget to ask you how you're handling it."

"Me?" he said, and smiled. "I'm fine. I'm always fine."

She looked at him. He'd never been able to hide his true feelings fully from Clary. she always saw right through him.

"You aren't fine," she said. "Are you?"

"Clary, don't—"

"Jace. . ."

"Okay," he said. "Yeah, I'm not one hundred percent okay. But it doesn't matter. Right now you and Izzy need me, so I'm here."

"You can bend a little," she said. "You know that, right?"

"I. . ."

"You miss Simon too," said Clary. "Don't you?"

"Yes," he admitted, surprising himself a little. "It's odd not having him around to poke fun at." He grinned.

"Jace, be serious."

He sighed. "It sucks, Clares," he said. "You and Izzy are both wrecks. Magnus and Alec blame themselves in ways. And I guess I lost someone I would call a friend, maybe." Now he was just being ridiculous. He knew Simon was a friend but wouldn't admit it, even now.

"Jace," she said, "you can grieve too."

He pulled her close to him. "I know," he said, being vulnerable and honest for a moment. "There just seems to be so much to grieve for. Simon, My biological parents, Max, the Cold Peace, my childhood and the things my father did; my father as well and more." He paused and took a deep breath. "Clary," he said, "if I think about it all too much, I'll lose it. And I can't do that right now."

"Jace, if you hold it all in then it'll only simmer until it boils over," she said, "and when it boils over it will be worse."

"I know," he admitted, "it's just. . .you know I suck with feelings."

"Look at me," she said. He looked at her. "This is part of healing and growing, you have to practice getting better at the things you aren't so great at. Doesn't mean you do great the first time or even the first hundred times but it does mean practice is key."

"Why do you have to be so wise?"

"I'm not. I just know," she said. "And for all you know I got that from a motivational poster."

He stared at her.

"You know, you're amazing and I love you," he said. Kissing her forehead.

"Stop," said Clary, "you'll make me start crying again."

"Cry as much as you need to."

"I know that," she said.

"I know you do."

"I want you to know" she said. "If you need to cry, my shoulder is here."

"I love you, so much," he said, and felt himself slightly tear up. Maybe he was actually going to cry, it was so odd to him. But he felt something wet run down his face. though everything since Clary had been odd in its way, she brought out the good in him, he'd say. More importantly she brought out the love, kindness, and gentleness he had kept hidden away and only have bits of it here there for so long. But she made him want to give more. Alec too, of course, he was the better half of Jace in a sense.

"I love you, so much, too."

Then she tackled him into a hug, and they laid down under the covers. Snuggled up together, whispering sweetly to each other; talking about what they both did today. giving kisses of comfort to each other. And finally falling asleep together.

Tag list: @khaleesiofalicante @chibi-tsukiko @spotsandclawsthings @megs-readstoomuch @magnus-the-maqnificent @replayfootsteps @my-archerboy @jazzkaurtheglorious @simply-ellas-stuff @bookfast-at-tiffanys

#clary fray #clary fairchild #jace herondale #jace lightwood herondale #clary x jace #clace #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #the mortal instruments #tmi fanfics #bec's fanfics

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costellos · 4 years

Text

author’s note: another self-indulgent piece! you can interpret this as ur dating ur boo already or nah. the only ones that imply not being in a relationship are Bucciarati and Fugo’s scenarios. in any case, take it as you will and enjoooyy.

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang & their first kiss with you!

bruno bucciarati.

Bucciarati first kissed you after being caught in the rain.

the sound of his water faucet comes gently humming from his bathroom. it offers a nice contrast to the heavy raindrops pattering against his window. Bucciarati sighs, watching as a strike of lightning ignites his house, then slips a bag of earl gray tea into a kettle of boiling water.

this is his fault. he had asked you to meet him at Libeccio to go over some last minute details about an upcoming mission. but just as you were both about to part ways, an onslaught of rain came pouring from above. and of course, neither of you had an umbrella. ↳ “my house isn’t far from here. you can stay with me until this passes.”

Bucciarati curses to himself. he’s trying his best to make the most of the situation. the sense of guilt for forcing you out is overwhelming, though. and now that the temperature is dropping in Naples, he fears that he set you up to get a cold.

the water from his bathroom cuts off. alright. you’re almost done. hopefully taking a hot shower will keep you from getting sick. a sigh escapes his lips once more as he pours the earl gray into a mug for you.

fantastic work, Bruno, he thinks to himself. it’s nice to have you here, it really is. but this was hardly out of choice. there had been so many scenarios that Bucciarati had concocted to bring you back to his home, to make you feel as safe as you do for him, yet. here you are. stuck here because he didn’t check the forecast.

really, that’s what it’s all about: he’s seen the way that you act around the team and civilians. how you selflessly put their needs above your own. even when he requested that you talk with him last minute, you didn’t hesitate to drop everything and run to Libeccio. you shouldn’t have to do that for anybody. certainly not him.

he desperately wants to take care of you, just as you do for everyone else. he wants to be the one that you come to for all your problems. he just wishes that mobster life wasn’t so complicated, that he could admit his feelings truly and wholly.

the mug in his grasp slips away. Bucciarati blinks. but when he hears your giggle, he realizes he must have gotten so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you were out of the bathroom.

you sip your tea, sending him a playful grin. Bucciarati returns it with one of his own. you look so small here, with your towel over your head and your cheeks still rosy from your hot shower. god. he can’t help but smile wider.

oh. hm. his strainer must not have contained all the leaves, because there’s a stray earl gray remnant on the corner of your lip. wordlessly, he reaches up to swipe it off with his thumb. your skin feels so smooth under his touch, so warm and soft. he just wants to take care of you. he just wants to make you feel loved. he just wants to—

Bucciarati’s kiss is quick yet so incredibly gentle. remnants of his cologne still stick to his skin — sandalwood and sea salt — but all you can focus on is how loving he feels against you. he tastes faintly of red wine. ↳ “forgive me. I couldn’t help myself.”

leone abbacchio.

Abbacchio first kissed you while doing your makeup.

it’s quiet underneath the yacht that Bucciarati rented. Narancia is blasting music on the deck above you and Mista and Fugo are talking, but everything is so muffled. it’s just you, Abbacchio, and the rouge lip stain that he’s sliding across your lips.

it’s a simple job: infiltrate a fundraiser hosted by the capo of a rival gang. because you’re one the most stunning member of the group, you were unanimously voted to distract the capo’s guards. this would give Mista access to his room and end this once and for all. and so, here you are now: getting your makeup done to, as Bucciarati quoted, “put your best face forward.”

so beautiful, Abbacchio thinks to himself. to be honest, he doesn’t understand why you asked him to help with your makeup. you really don’t need it. but he’d take any opportunity to get closer to you (though he’d never admit it).

the lip stain feels cold against your skin. Abbacchio does his best to make you comfortable, with his holding your chin in his grasp. his eyebrows are knitted, eyes strained as he tries to make you look your best. ↳ “alright. now rub your lips together.”

you do as your told, sliding the solution between your lips. seeing you move your mouth in such a way, rolling the liquid between your skin, your face so perfect... well. it’s an understatement to say that he’s overwhelmed.

“Leone?” your voice is so soft. he’s still holding onto your chin. you’re so close that he can feel your breath against his skin. all it would take— ↳ “so beautiful...”

his kiss is breathy and needy. you never expected him to be so desperate. how long has he been like this?

Abbacchio’s lips smack against yours, the hand on your chin moving to the back of your head, pulling you even closer to him. you can feel the lip stain that he just applied transferring to his own mouth. it tastes like cherries.

he keeps pushing himself further and further into you. he’s so enamored. so deprived. it takes you by surprise, but you follow his lead. ↳ “agghh! I’m sorry! I’ll come back later!!”

Narancia slams the door to the yacht’s room, effectively ending whatever you had just a moment ago. Abbacchio flinches from the sound, and once he realizes that Narancia saw everything, he rolls his eyes and sighs. ↳ “we’ll continue this later.”

giorno giovanna.

Giorno first kissed you during a mission in in the Alps.

you’re patrolling the perimeter of a ski resort. it’s cold up here, colder than you’re used to. nonetheless, this is potential new territory for Passione, so Bucciarati sent you and Giorno to observe the scene. you just didn’t expect your fingers to freeze so quickly. ↳ “I told you to bring a thicker coat.”

your partner isn’t helping. you turn to the blond next you, a sly grin on his lips. you merely stick your tongue out in response (which, quite frankly, freezes rapidly too).

in any case, you push further. despite your chilly surroundings, you have to admit that it’s nice up here. the setting sun sets the sky on fire, casting an orange glow on the snow at your feet. the air smells vaguely of pine and Giorno’s cologne, but you can’t quite pinpoint the notes on the latter.

Giorno is trying to be subtle when he looks at you. when he knows you’re not paying attention, his green irises turn to you. you look so cute out here, with your cheeks so rosy and your eyelashes covered with tiny snowflakes. you’re wearing the knit hat with the little pom pom that he bought for you. that gesture makes his heart as warm as the jacket you should’ve brought with. he’s so enamored by you.

but he can’t help but notice how much you’re shivering. he wishes he had been more adamant about bringing a thicker jacket. you insisted you would be okay, but even still. he feels that this is partly his fault. ↳ “here. hold on.”

Giorno stops in his tracks, forcing you to stop as well. the air falls dead silent, likely due to the snow around you. he unwraps the tan cashmere scarf from his neck, opting to swing it around your own. it's here that you can finally identify what his cologne smells like: vanilla and tobacco, the latter a remnant from an earlier meeting. it’s so inviting, just as he is to you.

but instead of folding it around your neck, Giorno grasps the ends of the scarf, pulling you close to him. that stupid sly smirk is on his face, and as he presses his lips onto yours, you can feel it against your own.

for as confident as he seemed just earlier, he almost recoils in the kiss. he’s shy and inexperienced, and it seems he acknowledges this, for the kiss itself is rather chaste. but he places his forehead on yours, his smirk replaced with that gentle smile you’ve come so well to know. ↳ “is that better?”

guido mista.

Mista first kissed as you were waiting for the subway.

your eyelids feel heavy. it’s far past your usual bedtime. not that you mind; tonight was an important mission briefing, so of course it would go far longer than any of you expected.

nonetheless, it’s dark out. few people are at the Salvator Rosa subway station. maybe it’s better that way — fewer creeps to deal with. though Mista had offered to bring you back home, you live on the other side of Naples from him. it’s a sweet gesture. you just feel bad accepting it when it’s already so late.

click. click. click. the heels on Mista’s boots send echoes down the tunnels. he looks down the train tracks, seeing no sign of any approaching vehicles. the train should be coming every ten minutes at this hour. it’s not that he wants to get rid of you, he just wants to make sure that you get home as soon as possible. he doesn’t like the thought of you being out this late by yourself.

at no sign of a train, Mista clicks his tongue and leans back. he then looks at you, catching you mid-yawn. you’re tired, that much is obvious, with your bloodshot eyes and sullied expression. yet even then, he can’t help but find you so charming. you work so hard for everyone, trying your best to do the most that you can. you continuously put everyone first. he wishes he could do the same for you. it’s the least he could do. ↳ “you’re so incredible, I could kiss you. ...wait, did I just say that out loud?”

oh my god oh my god oh my god DID HE REALLY JUST BLURT THAT?

Mista’s internally panicking now. he’s trying to take back what he said (but also not, because it’s true), yet there’s no smooth way to do it. he’s tried for so long to put up this cool guy persona and now he’s ruined it!!! (even though he never had it in the first place.)

but you just laugh in response, and that alone is enough to relax him. okay. so maybe he didn’t fuck up entirely. ↳ “err... can I kiss you?”

god, he’s such an idiot. but you oblige, saying yes, he can kiss you.

Mista wastes no time. he takes you by your hips, pressing his lips against yours. he’s wanted to do this for so long now. and now that this moment is here, all he wants to do is keep you close to him — and him only.

his kisses are eager and excited. he’s not inexperienced, especially with his flirtatious past. but there’s something about the way he moves his lips that makes you feel like you’re the only kiss that matters. you can feel him smiling as you return his enthusiasm. ↳ “you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

narancia ghirga.

Narancia first kissed you during a moment of silence.

Tupac is playing quietly in the background. the smell of stale potato chips fill the room. you can hear Narancia playing some video game on his N64, the soft buzz of his TV filling the silence between songs.

neither of you had any days off nowadays. but by some miracle, some god took pity on the both of you and allowed a Friday night of relaxation. although Narancia and you had discussed going out, you both decided you were too damn tired. (even though it’s far beyond midnight now.)

Narancia selects the TRY AGAIN? option (after dying for the upteenth time... jesus, this game is hard), and while he waits for the loading screen to pass, he can’t help but look at you. you’re sitting cross-legged on his bed, reading some trashy tabloid. you look so at peace here, with your eyelids low and a Twizzler hanging from your mouth. he loves seeing you like this; it’s such a nice change from how stressed you’ve been lately. he wishes you would always be like this. and he knows that’s not the life either of you agreed to once you joined Passione, but. the fact still stands.

it’s like you know that he’s watching you. you instinctively tap on his arm, a sign he’s so familiar with that means you want to play the game next.

everything here is so comfortable and familiar. he wants this moment to last forever.

the only thing that would make it better is to... well. hmm. how should he go about that? ↳ “hey, hand me a Twizzler.”

without looking, you move your hand from his arm, reaching to the plastic bag beside you. ↳ “no, stupid! I meant like this.”

it’s a smooth move, you have to admit. after he pauses his game, he climbs onto the bed with you. he bites onto the opposite end of your Twizzler, far before you can process what’s even happening.

though, let’s be real, Narancia doesn’t even know what’s happening. there are all sorts of alarms ringing in his head. what is he doing? oh my god, is this what it means to be smooth??

he supposes so, because he quickly closes the gap between you. he’s clumsy and he tastes like strawberries, but he’s so, so inviting. he tries to take it slow, with his peppering your lips with relaxed, gentle kisses. you can feel his right hand creep onto your cheek, the pads of his fingers tickling your temple.

↳ “was... was that okay?”

pannacotta fugo.

Fugo’s first kissed you while tending to your wounds.

crickets chirp from outside his window. cicadas hiss from outside. you hiss along with them as Fugo places an alcohol-soaked cotton ball on a cut. ↳ “I know, I’m sorry. I’m almost done.”

following a stand battle where, quite honestly, both of you narrowly escaped death, Fugo took it as his responsibility to tend to you. not that he particularly wanted to (which is what he kept telling himself), he simply felt it was his responsibility after you took care of him just a month earlier.

neither of you should be in this situation. had you not defended some civilians during the fight, both of you would have come out of this battle a lot cleaner. especially you. dear lord, your skin is littered with cuts and bruises. nothing too concerning, and thankfully no gashes or broken bones, but that was calling it way too close.

his violet eyes flicker to you for a second. your lips are pursed and your eyebrows are furrowed — he can tell you’re in pain. although he tries to make this process as easy as he can, there’s only so much he can do.

Fugo turns back to your arm. you have a cut along the inside of your elbow, which he’s currently wrapping in gauze. he makes a note of it. that’s going to hurt whenever you bend your elbow, which will effect how you fight during your next stand battle. he sighs. you’re so stupid.

even still... he envies you. you don’t hesitate, ever, unlike him. you know exactly what you want to do and how you’re going to get it. and despite everything, you still try to protect the people around you, even if it means putting yourself in harm. that part is foolish, he thinks, but admirable nonetheless. he wishes that he could follow in your lead, carving his own path.

however, he couldn’t ignore how you defined him a month ago: a friend, someone worth caring for. Fugo has been described as many things yet... that’s the only one that he felt mattered. he wants everyone to see him as that. that’s how he sees you, at least.

he turns back to your face. your eyebrow is singed. he takes his thumb, running it over your charred hairs, checking for any more cuts. thankfully, there’s nothing.

but it’s here that he realizes how close he is to you. your faces are a mere three millimetres apart, your wide eyes looking back at him. with that stupid grin on your face (though he admits, most of the time it’s cute), you quickly reach up and kiss his nose.

to say Fugo is stunned would be an understatement. is... is this even appropriate? can he do this...? this wasn’t at all how he expected the night to go, yet...

Fugo exhales. you can hear how his breath wavers. but once he composes himself, he takes your face in his hands and presses his lips onto yours.

everything about Fugo is calculated. but here, it feels as though he’s absorbing everything for the first time, fumbling through the steps. because, honestly, it’s true. you’re his first kiss, and he couldn’t be happier to share it with you. he’s careful to not to push too hard into you or to touch you where your skin is cut, but his lips are smooth and welcoming. taking you in as if this was his intention all along. ↳ “come closer. I... I don’t want to stop.”

#giorno giovanna #bucci gang #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #golden wind #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #headcanons #what's good my name is toya mctoyason #and i realized while writing this that i had been spelling Bucciarati's name wrong this ENTIRE. TIME.#don't worry i fixed it.......#toya whisks u away

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wetforgrayson · 4 years

Text

I love you / Grayson Dolan

Word count: 1k

Summary : You wake up from a weird dream, and Grayson realises how much he adores you while you rumbling your dream to him in the middle of the night. First time saying I love you and fluff shit.

A/n : English is not my first language.This is very random, I don’t even know why I wrote this. The dream is inspired by one of the tweets I saw. That’s all, enjoy x

You opened your watery eyes in panic in the dark, and it took you a couple of seconds to remember where were you. The arms that wrapping your body tightly giving you a hint about it, causing you to feel relaxed immediately. You could feel Grayson’s chests rising against your back, and his peaceful snores were filling the room.

There was a heavy feeling on your chest. You thought about what caused the sad feeling for a second, and then you remembered the ironic reason. Your weird dream started to play on your head, this time making you smile wide at how ridiculous it was. Not necessarily a sad dream, you couldn’t even call it a dream if you were being honest. Just straight up weird comedy.

The more you thought about the dream, the more it got funnier. You try to hold your laughs in and fall back to sleep. Your boyfriend’s calm snores making you feel sleepy, but only for a second before your dream came to your mind again. Your silent smile turned into a small chuckle, but before you know it, your body was shaken from your giggles. Scared to wake Grayson up from his peaceful sleep, you try hard to be silent.

Grayson on the other hand was never really a light sleeper. He could sleep through a storm or even an earthquake, however, since he started to sleep with you, he was determined to open his eyes with every single sound he hears. Just to make sure you were completely fine in his arms, and there wasn’t anything threatening your safety. Feeling your body shake triggered him out of his sleep, overprotectiveness jumped right out, he pulled you closer.

“Are you okay, baby?” His raspy voice sounded worried, but he tried to use a soft tone knowing its effect on calming you.

You stopped holding yourself back and laughed out loud now that you know Grayson was up. You didn’t have a logical reason for laughing in the middle of the night, and that only made you laugh harder. Grayson was relaxed that you were not crying, hearing his favorite melody in the whole world warmed his heart. Even though he was confused and a little sleepy, he couldn’t help to laugh with you. You turned in his arms to face him. You always love the sight of sleepy Grayson, he looked so cute and cuddly.

“I just had the weirdest dream..” He giggled watching your excited expression, running one hand through his messy bed hair and looking gorgeous doing so.

“Oh, yeah? What was it?”

“Listen, babe, you’re going to love this. I was talking to this subway rat, he was looking at-“

“Wait, you were talking to a subway rat?” He interrupted, laughing hysterically at how normal you made it sound.

“Yes! And he was so cute, I think I called him Yoda, not sure why.”

“Jesus Christ, and it was a he?” You stopped to genuinely think for a second -you would hate to misgender your dear rat, obviously- Grayson’s face was hurting for smiling so much, to save you from thinking more he said “Okay, whatever. What were you talking with him?”

“Oh, he said “Join us, when the train comes we slide under the tracks and feel it rumble over us like a warm thunderstorm. We live forever and love to live.” You try to imitate your rat’s tone and it made Grayson bursting out laughing.

“What the fuck?” You both were laughing loudly, Grayson rolled his body next to you and bury his face on your neck while laughing. You keep laughing until your face was literally hurting from it.

“I said no, thank you, I am too large.” Grayson now was wheezing, eyes getting watery while he watched you laughing hard but trying to tell your absolutely insane dream at the same time.

“He turned away from me and I cried.”

“You cried?” He asked, it sounded dramatic than he meant it to be.

“Don’t laugh Gray, it was really sad. He looked really disappointed with me.”

Grayson held his breath for a second to actually stop laughing but he failed when he saw you pouting. You both start to laugh, holding each other close until you calmed down.

“I’m sorry the rat left you, baby, I’m glad you didn’t leave me with him though.”

You chuckle whispering “I would never.”

You watch each other with a huge smile, Grayson’s hand caressing your cheek lovingly.

“I’m sorry I wake you up.” You kissed the inside of his hand that was on your cheek. He leaned in to give you a heart melting kiss. It easily turned out to be a sloppy make-out session. Your wet and warm mouth moving was the only sound in the room and it made your stomach twitch with how hot it sounded.

“ I love you so much.” He pulled out from the kiss to whisper these words, making you froze in your place while your heartbeat a hundred times harder on your chest. During the one month of dating, you both kept these three words to yourselves. Not wanting to spill them too early and ruin the magic these words carrying. You didn’t expect him to say it this early, you also didn’t expect yourself to get this emotional. You were at the edge of the tears.

“You don’t have to say it back baby, I just want you to know it. I love you very much, and I hope I get to wake up to the sound of your laughing every night until the very last day. “

“I love you even more.” You managed to whisper back, tears are filling your eyes. Your voice sounded so soft that Grayson had to keep himself from sobbing. He cleared his throat while turning you on your back and cuddling you tightly.

“We have to sleep now, baby. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.” You nodded your head, feeling Grayson’s lips soft touch on your hair. You have a smile on your face and it looked like it wasn’t going to be fading any time soon while you have Grayson by your side.

#grayson dolan fluff #grayson x reader #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fluff

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delacyrose224 · 3 years

Text

Champagne Problems

-Pairing: bassist!Yoongi x OC

-Premise: Yoongi keeps to himself, but everything changes when he opens up to his best friend about his past.

-Genre: rock band!AU, angst with some fluff

-Word count: 2.8k

-Author's Note: This is a continuation of the Gold Rush universe! Each band member will get his own story based off a song on Taylor Swift's evermore album. This story revealed just how much of a soft spot I have for Yoongi...

“Are you sure you can’t come with?” Jungkook shoots Yoongi a sad look with his doe eyes.

“Yes, now shut up and go. Stop trying to guilt trip me with puppy dog eyes, suck it up and go be awkward with that girl you met. I can tell you think she’s cute, so go be gross and flirty somewhere else far from me, please,” Yoongi huffs as he loads equipment into the band’s van.

“Yeah, JK, leave him alone...he’s going to hang out with Olivia.” Jin emphasizes the last word with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Olivia’s more important than us anyway...even though we’ve known him longer. It’s fine, we’ll be fine.” He throws his hand against his forehead as if he’ll faint for emphasis.

Yoongi cuts a harsh side eye at Jin. “Yes, I am going to hang out with Olivia. I’ve had plans with her for a week now. You knew this. It’s not my fault if you forgot.”

Jin falters at this, his face softening into care for his oldest friend. “Yeah, I know. We’ll see you when you get home, okay?” Yoongi nods in affirmation.

“I’m taking the train there, make sure the equipment gets unloaded tonight. I don’t care what goo-goo eyes those two girls make at you, it needs to go in the spare room in our apartment.” Yoongi tosses the van keys at Jungkook, who catches them with ease.

“Aye, aye, captain!” Jungkook exclaims with a grin, opening the driver’s side door as Jin climbs into the passenger side.

Yoongi gives a small wave at his two friends as he turns to walk to the subway station nearest The Dynasty, the bar they had just played at. He didn’t mind that he was by himself, it would give him the time he needed to decompress after the show. He appreciated the attention that the band and their music got (after all, he had a hand in writing most of the songs), but he absolutely hated the attention of the crowd on himself. Jin and Jungkook ate it up-they were literally about to go meet two strangers from the show to eat and hang out. That could never be him. Yoongi stuck with the familiar. The familiar was safe. And Olivia was familiar.

He smiled softly to himself at the thought of Olivia...he had known her since college, where they had met when they were both dragged to a party they didn’t want to be at. They had bonded over their shared distaste for large gatherings of loud, drunk people, but their love for their friends that reveled in it.

Reminiscing had taken Yoongi all the way down to the subway platform, where he met the red line just as it was pulling in...a bit of good luck for once, he thought. He climbed on and found a seat off to the side where no one else was, and collapsed into it. He must be more tired than he thought.

As the train pulled out of the station, he found himself looking out the window. The red line was a train that went above ground, so he was able to stare at more than just gray tunnels. As skyscrapers and streetlights came into view, his mind started to wander. Last March. A night similar to this one, exactly a year ago. He had just finished playing Gold Rush’s first show, when his whole life fell apart. Promises of a future, shattered alongside his heart. He can feel his eyes starting to prick with tears, which he hates. Yoongi looks around, simultaneously grateful that no one else is around to see that he’s upset, but at the same time, if there were more people around, maybe he never would have gotten lost in his memories in the first place.

Before he can start internally chastising himself too much, the train pulls into his stop. He uses his black t-shirt to wipe at his eyes in what he hopes is a nonchalant way, then leaves the train car and heads up a set of stairs back into the city.

He doesn’t have to walk far before he’s at Olivia’s apartment, knocking on her door. She flings the door open wide, a smile on her face and a bottle of champagne in her hand. “Yoongi!! You came! Come on in.”

Yoongi follows her into her apartment and plops himself down on her couch and closes his eyes momentarily, feeling some of his stress dissipate. “Happy Anniversary!!” Olivia exclaims. At this, he jolts up, eyes flying open. He can feel how wild he must look with the way Olivia stares at him. But how does she know about the anniversary? She doesn’t know anything about that, right?

“...w-what do you mean?” he manages to stammer out, trying to gain some of his composure.

“The anniversary of Gold Rush’s first show?...you’ve been officially playing together for a year now! I remember the first show like it was yesterday, you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up. And then Jungkook actually threw up after the show because he drank too much...anyway, I’m so sorry I couldn’t come out tonight, I had a work thing I couldn’t miss.” Olivia looks truly disappointed, like she would have rather been sweating in a gross bar at the show.

Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief. Of course, the anniversary of their first show. Why would it be anything else? “It’s okay, really,” he replies. “It worked out anyway, Jin and Jungkook met these two girls who came to the show, and they’re hanging out with them. Makes me feel less guilty when I’d rather be hanging out with you anyway.” He lets a small smile grace his features as he glances across the room at Olivia, but it disappears as his eyes fall on the champagne bottle that she’s placed on the living room table.

First world problems. Champagne problems, she’d called them. Not Olivia. Her. Yoongi can feel his eyes starting to swim with tears again, so quickly he doesn’t have time to hide the few that spill down his cheeks.

“...Yoongs? What’s wrong?” Olivia moves to sit beside him on the couch.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself again. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yoongs, the last time I saw you cry, it was in college when you found out that your aunt had passed away. So I’m gonna ask again...what’s wrong?” she reaches out and gently wipes his tears away with her thumb.

“Livvy…” he starts, unsure of exactly what to say.

“Just start at the beginning,” Olivia reassures him.

He sighs shakily. “Okay. Do you remember when I started dating Isabelle senior year?”

Olivia nods.

“Well, that’s the beginning.”

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

“...and everything was fine for a long time. Those first two years were everything. She was everything. Jin and Jungkook used to get so mad at me because I would bail out of band practice early all the time to go see her.” Yoongi hiccups as he continues talking. He’s stopped crying for the time being, but as he’d been telling the story, Olivia had opened the bottle of champagne and they had both been drinking straight from the bottle. Yoongi was a little tipsy, if he was being honest with himself...otherwise, he didn’t think he’d be able to get the entire story out of his mouth.

“Okay...so, everything was good. What happened?” Olivia looks over sideways at her best friend. They’d both thrown their heads back to look at the ceiling rather than look at each other to talk-Olivia knew Yoongi would never be able to fully share with them making eye contact. He looks over briefly, then back to the ceiling, brows furrowed.

“Well. I’m not sure exactly when things started to fall apart...I guess Isabelle started acting weird once she met my family. Jin and Jungkook didn’t care for her that much either, I never understood why. I know now they were just looking out for me. But in the moment, all I saw was her. She loved me, and I loved her. I wanted to marry her,” he breathes out softly, closing his eyes.

Olivia’s eyes widen. She and Yoongi had been friends when he dated Isabelle, but they hadn’t kept in close contact during that time. They were each trying to find their footing in the real world, moving into apartments, starting first jobs. Him entertaining the idea of marriage to anyone was news to her. She knew he was serious about his relationship to Isabelle, but not that serious.

Yoongi is still sitting with his eyes closed, face towards the ceiling. Try as he might, he can’t stop tears from falling for the third time that night. He hates how vulnerable he’s being, but maybe he can blame it on the champagne. Instead of wiping them away, Olivia watches the tears fall onto his t-shirt. Her heart feels like it’s being wrenched apart. Why did Yoongi never share any of this with her before? She should have been there for him. Did Jin and Jungkook know about all of this? Surely he’s told someone else. Slowly, she reaches out her hand and places it on top of Yoongi’s, squeezing gently.

At the sensation, he opens his eyes and looks over at Olivia. She always knows what to do or say. Or not say. He twists his palm upward to meet hers and intertwines their fingers together. It feels nice. He’s forgotten how pleasant human touch can be since he’s shut himself off from other people.

Olivia’s cheeks are dusted with pink, but she doesn’t pull her hand back. “Okay, so, you wanted to marry her. What stopped you?” She traces small circles with her thumb onto the back of Yoongi’s hand.

He leans forward and grabs the champagne bottle with his free hand, chugging quite a bit before he answers. “...she did.” he whispers, hardly loud enough to hear. “Last March, at our first show. You remember she came?” Olivia nods. She remembers, it had been one of the few times the two women had been in the same room.

“We went back to her apartment after the afterparty, once we all made sure Kook was fine after he got sick. I was planning on proposing in a much more planned out way, but I just remember looking at her once we got back to her place, and she was so beautiful. Even though she was sweaty from the show, even though we were both exhausted. I couldn’t help myself...I didn’t even have the ring with me, it was sitting at my apartment in my sock drawer. I just loved her so much.”

There’s a long pause. Olivia squeezes Yoongi’s hand again for reassurance. He continues to blankly stare at the ceiling at a loss for what to say next.

“Yoongs...c’mere.” He looks over at Olivia questioningly. She lets go of his hand and before he can protest the loss of contact, she gently places her hands on his shoulders, turning him and slowly lowering his head into her lap. He’s still staring at the ceiling, but also able to see Olivia. She begins to softly run her hands through his hair, tracing patterns onto his scalp every so often. Yoongi sighs contentedly and closes his eyes again.

“...I got down on one knee in her living room, and she stopped me. Before I could say one word. She just said, ‘Yoongi, I can’t.’ And that was it. She didn’t cry. She said she couldn’t do this, whatever this was. She said I deserved better than her. And then she asked me to leave. We never talked again.”

Suddenly he opens his eyes again. “I became a zombie after that...the only time I socialized with anyone was to go play shows, if that even counts. I was so rude for no reason to Kook and Jin, when they were just trying to help. I never even told them what happened. They didn’t know I proposed, they just thought we broke up.” Yoongi’s speech starts to speed up as the trainwreck he’s lived through for the past year plays in his head.

“I used to care so much...I closed myself off. I don’t think I feel emotions properly anymore. I can’t love anyone anymore. I haven’t told anyone about any of this until now, and it took a bottle of champagne to even do that, and you’re one of my best friends.” Yoongi sits up suddenly, motioning frantically at Olivia with his hands. He looks at her, holding eye contact for more than 10 seconds for the first time that night.

“...I think Isabelle broke me,” he breathes. Seeing the care emanating from Olivia’s gaze is what truly breaks him. He’s suddenly sobbing uncontrollably, shoulders heaving with the emotion that he’s held in for so long. Olivia pulls him into her embrace, where she simply holds him while he cries.

What he doesn’t see are the tears streaming down her face as well. She can’t believe that he’s held all of this in for this long, without telling anyone. That he felt like he couldn’t share this part of himself. She just wishes that he could understand how much she cares. How much she loves him. He deserves the world, not to feel this way.

After a few minutes, Yoongi leans back, wiping his eyes and trying to collect himself. It’s then that he notices the wet streaks running down Olivia’s cheeks.

“Livvy, what’s wrong?” he reaches up to gently wipe her cheeks with his thumbs. She inadvertently leans into the touch, sniffling softly. “Livvy...look at me.”

As she lifts her gaze to meet his, Yoongi is struck by how Olivia’s eyes seem to be glittering because of tears. How does she look so pretty even after crying? He’s sure he looks disgusting.

“What’s wrong?” he repeats.

“You deserve the world, Yoongi. I’m so sorry that Isabelle broke your heart, but she was right...you deserve so much better. More than anyone can give you, probably.” She says this while looking intently at her lap, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

At this statement, Yoongi stops. Memories of the past year run through his mind, each rapidly following the other. Who did he go to when Gold Rush lost their slot in Battle of the Bands? Olivia. Who did he vent to about Jin and Jungkook when they were fraying his last nerve? Olivia. Where did he go when he needed to destress? Olivia’s. Who made him feel safe? Olivia.

“...hey,” he whispers gently, taking Olivia’s hands in his. She looks up, tears still swimming in her eyes.

“Isabelle may have broken me...but I think someone’s been slowly putting me back together again without me even realizing it.” He smiles, intertwining their fingers and leaning his forehead against hers.

“...w-what?” Olivia stammers, barely loud enough to hear.

Yoongi laughs softly. “Livvy, I think...I think I’m in love with you, and I didn’t even know until right this minute.”

“Yoongs...I...I don’t…” she whispers. Yoongi gasps sharply, pulling away as fast as he can.

“Olivia...I’m so sorry. I misread everything, everything...forget this happened. I’ll leave, forget I said anything!” he scrambles to get off the couch as rapidly as humanly possible, cheeks flaming in embarrassment.

Before he can get far, he’s being pulled back down onto the couch. Making eye contact with Olivia for longer than 10 seconds for the second time tonight, he tries to form an intelligible sentence with his brain. Before anything can come out of his mouth, Olivia’s lips come crashing down onto his.

Yoongi’s eyes widen impossibly, eyebrows raising to meet his bangs. As Olivia’s lips move against his, he stops thinking and sighs into the kiss almost imperceptibly. His hands move to her hips, pulling her as close as he can to himself...he never wants to let go if he can help it.

When the two break eventually break apart for air, Olivia chuckles. “What’s so funny?” Yoongi asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I was just trying to tell you that I didn’t know what to say, not that I didn’t like you...way to jump to conclusions,” she giggles.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. We solved that miscommunication luckily,” he smirks.

“We’re both idiots, aren’t we?” Olivia leans her head against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi peers down at her, smiling as he wraps an arm around her.

“Yeah, I think we’ve been hanging out with Jin for too long.”

#yoongi x oc #suga x oc #min yoongi x oc #min yoongi #suga #bts one shot #bts rock band au #bts angst #bts fluff

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