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rufflebuttercup · 4 months

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romance analysis unit | spencer reid

summary: you like spencer. spencer likes you. somehow, you're the only ones on the team who can't see it - and that calls for some BAU intervention.

a/n: i had a bit of an impulsive moment and decided to delete my old blog (vintagecarat) because i wanted a redo, so if you've seen a variation of this fic before, it’s not been stolen - i promise! this is my favourite x reader i've ever written, so i had to rewrite it, of course!

enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day! <3 requests are open!

note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mention of alcohol, mention of canon-typical violence, reader gets hurt, mentions of blood, one bed trope

word count: 5,173

One year, seven months and sixteen days. That's how long it had been since you'd started working at the BAU.

One year, seven months and nine days. That's how long it had been since you'd realized that you had a sickeningly huge crush on Spencer Reid.

It had been a long time since you'd had a crush. The last time had been in elementary school, and you'd been convinced that you were in love with the boy who sat two seats to the left of you in class. He’d gone on to marry your best friend and leave you with a broken heart. In hindsight, though, you were only five.

You'd fallen for people before, and you'd had a string of partners in the past, but it had been such a long time since you'd felt the way you did when you looked at Spencer. Seeing him smile made your heart thud erratically in your chest. Hearing him ramble made you smile in the giddiest and most euphoric way possible. Feeling his fingers brush against yours whenever he handed you your morning coffee made your brain turn to mush and left you unable to form a coherent sentence for at least ten minutes. You were trying your hardest to break that last habit, though.

Your crush on Spencer quickly became a topic that you knew you wanted to keep a secret from the rest of the team. The last thing you needed was all of your progress as the newest team member to be weighed down by a crush that made you blush and giggle like a child.

During a particularly wild night out with the team, though, your plan to keep your crush on Spencer a secret went flying out of the nearest window, along with any shred of dignity you had remaining after drinking one too many shots. It had been a miracle that Spencer hadn't been there at the exact moment the words spouted from your lips. At least you had your drunk self to thank for something, you supposed.

Penelope had been the first one you'd told. Definitely a foolish move on your part, but you were too drunk in the moment to make any logical decisions. Emily and JJ had gone to the bar to get more drinks - "another round of shots", Emily had screamed before dragging JJ away - leaving you and Penelope alone to guard the table in the corner. She was the one who'd brought up the conversation, and naturally, you'd followed along without a care in the world. If there was anything good to come of the situation, then it was the look on Penelope’s face. You wished you’d taken a picture of her expression as the words tumbled from your mouth.

Penelope couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, and once she knew, it was only a matter of time before Emily and JJ knew. She’d screamed so loudly that you’d almost gotten kicked out of the bar for causing a disturbance.

"Place your bets," Emily had shouted over the pounding bass music, slamming a twenty-dollar bill onto the table, "How long until Garcia tells Morgan?"

It barely even took an hour. Emily ended up winning her own bet.

Derek had practically cornered you at your desk the next time he saw you in the bullpen, failing miserably to hide the smirk on his face as he showed you his phone and the babbling, completely unintelligible, texts from Penelope.

With the alcohol out of your system and the devastating hangover a painful memory, you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole. Maybe you could quit, or request a transfer, or simply disappear to the other side of the country and become a recluse in the wilderness. Wishful thinking, of course.

From that moment on, you noticed that the rest of the team was messing with you. You didn’t have any proof, but you were sure of it. You’d enter the conference room to find that the only seat remaining was next to Spencer. You’d find yourself paired up with Spencer more often during cases. You and Spencer would frequently be the last two members left in the bullpen at the end of the day.

It wasn't as if you particularly minded. You and Spencer were best friends. You had been from the moment you'd walked into the bullpen on your first day and immediately made a comment about the book he was reading. You were used to being around him more often than not, but it was a lot harder to act as if nothing had changed when you were on edge 90% of the time. You were always wondering if he knew anything about the crush you had on him, or if someone else was about to blurt out the secret that you were trying so desperately hard to keep hidden. You couldn't bring it up because you'd either out yourself or you'd be forced to have a conversation that you were sure would end in rejection.

It was an endless cycle, and you hated it.

You were in the bullpen with Dave, perched on the edge of your desk as he rattled off his famous carbonara recipe. You’d always wanted to be a better cook, and Dave had promised you that he'd teach you, even though he really didn't want you burning his kitchen down to the ground.

“Okay, so, do you add the cheese and the egg together, or separately?”

“You combine the egg first, and then you add the cheese.”

“Oh. Right. So…”

It was at that moment that Derek decided to sidle over to the conversation, perching himself on your desk beside you with an all-too familiar smirk on his face.

“Since when have you been interested in learning how to cook?” he gave you a not-so-subtle nudge.

You shot Derek a glare, “Derek. Don't.”

"Unless you were planning a date for pretty boy over there.”

He nodded his head in Spencer's direction, and you couldn't help but follow his eyes. It was automatic. The sight of Spencer pouring pretty much the entire jar of sugar into his coffee made you smile, but it was definitely an expression you wiped off your face when you heard Derek's laughter.

“I swear to God, Derek…”

“Guys,” JJ interrupted, entering the bullpen with a case file in hand, “We've got a case.”

“Is it bad?”

JJ simply grimaced.

“Of course it is,” you said with a sigh, hopping off your desk. Derek was still failing to hide his laughter beside you, and you swatted at him, “Shut up, Derek.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“You didn't have to.”

It didn’t surprise you at all to see that the seat beside Spencer was the only one available. As you slid into it, you caught Emily smirking at you from across the table, though she was clearly trying to hide it. You shook your head at her, though you couldn’t stop a tiny smile from ghosting over your lips as you focused your attention onto the case file in your hands.

ꨄ︎

It always seemed as though every case at the BAU was worse than the last one.

You’d all been called to a small town in Wyoming after a frantic call from the police department. Three victims had been found in the town’s frozen lake with anchors tied to their ankles to keep them below the surface. A fourth victim had gone missing, and there was no doubt that she’d end up like the others if she wasn’t found. It was a horrifying fact that everybody knew, but nobody wanted to admit.

It was later, almost 11 pm, and you were no closer to solving the case than you had been when you’d first arrived. It was as if the unsub was always three steps ahead of you, and it was frustratingly annoying. You’d spent a good portion of the afternoon scouring through decade old case files. The lead detective was convinced that it was related to a similar case that had happened in the 1990s. You hadn’t found any striking similarities between the two and you were beginning to wonder if there would be any at all. He was clutching at straws, desperately trying to close the case as quickly as possible. You couldn’t fault him for that.

Just as the words on the case file were beginning to blur into one large amalgamation, a gentle hand landed on your shoulder, “Hey,” JJ said, “We’re all heading to the hotel.”

“You go ahead,” you waved dismissively, stifling a yawn, “I’m going to finish looking over these files, and…”

“Hotch’s orders,” she cut you off, “You need a break. We all do.”

You looked to the doors of the precinct and saw the rest of the team ready to leave, muttering amongst themselves in a tired conversation. Aaron raised his eyebrows, almost expectantly, at you.

“Alright,” you didn’t bother trying to hide another yawn, “I’m coming.”

JJ smiled softly at you, almost dragging you to your feet because of how exhausted you were. It didn’t really feel as if your brain was in control of your body as you padded after her. You’d been so caught up in the details of the case that you hadn’t realized how tired you truly were. The sudden rush of air that hit you as you exited the building made you even drowsier.

“You look exhausted,” Spencer chuckled as he helped you into the SUV with a gentle hand on the small of your back that almost made you combust right then and there, "I've seen you tired, but this is another level."

You simply made a little grunt in response. You didn't have enough energy to come up with one of your usual witty comebacks. You clumsily collapsed into your seat, and you leaned your head back against the headrest as your eyes fluttered shut.

It wasn't too long of a drive to the hotel, but that didn't stop you from catching a quick power nap during the brief moment of peace. You couldn't get Spencer out of your head. Or, more specifically, that hand on the small of your back. He'd never touched you like that before. Ever. It was sending your brain spiraling, to be honest.

“We’re here,” Spencer’s voice filtered into your ear as he gently shook your shoulder, “Wake up.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you glanced to your left. After a moment, your eyes came back into focus, and it hit you that your head was leaning on Spencer’s shoulder, “Oh,” you quickly sat up, though you almost choked as the seat belt snapped you back against the seat, “Sorry.”

You were so very glad that most of the team weren’t in the same SUV as the two of you because they’d never let you hear the end of it. The only other person was Aaron, and as you caught his eye in the rearview mirror, you could tell that he was trying not to uncharacteristically laugh at you. You did your best to ignore him, which wasn’t exactly easy when your face began to burn with a familiar wave of heat that you’d grown accustomed to.

That chuckle of Spencer’s that you loved so much and made your heart do flip-flops in your chest echoed in your ears, “It’s fine. You clearly needed it. And I do make an excellent pillow.”

You snorted out a laugh, and you gave him a shove as you climbed out of the car beside him, “Shut up.”

The rest of the team were all waiting beside the front desk with their bags as you and Spencer entered. Even though you made sure to look in any other direction, you definitely saw the subtle smirks Derek and Emily were shooting you out of the corner of your eye.

Aaron finished his hushed conversation with the receptionist, and with a curt nod, he moved back over to the rest of the team with key cards in his hand, “They don’t have enough rooms for all of us. Looks like we’re doubling up.”

If Spencer noticed the subtle smirks and side glances from the rest of the team, he never mentioned them.

Instead, he nudged your shoulder, “We’re sharing, right?”

“Of course, we’re sharing. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you took the key card Aaron was holding out to you, and you couldn’t help but notice his lips twitching up into a tiny little-half smirk. You brushed it off, though, “I’m sleeping on the bed nearest the window this time.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer followed you as you made your way to the elevator, “I like sleeping near the window.”

“No. Not happening. You slept near the window last time.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as the elevator shot up to your designated floor. Your eyes wandered around the small space, and you found yourself looking anywhere other than at Spencer. You weren’t an anxious person, and it wasn’t as if being alone with Spencer was a new thing to you, but your mind was racing. All because of that one small gesture. His hand on the small of your back. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and you wished you could because it was making your cheeks burn.

“Even the elevators are fancy,” you muttered, casting a quick glance around the elevator’s plush and yet miniscule interior, “For a small town, they sure do have nice hotels.”

Things really were dire when you started making small talk. You were the type of person who could make a mountain out of a molehill with how much you talked. You almost rivaled Spencer with how much you could babble on. Small talk wasn’t your thing at all.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Hm?”

“You hate small talk,” Spencer said, and you bit back a laugh at that. It was as if you and Spencer were on the same wavelength sometimes, “And you’re picking at the hole in your sweater. You only ever do that when you’ve got something on your mind.”

You immediately glanced down at your hands, dropping them from your sweater as if it burned. You hadn’t even realized you’d been picking at the hole until Spencer mentioned it. You hadn’t even realized that there was a hole at all. Your bottom lip jutted out in a quick pout, “I love this sweater.”

Spencer chuckled at that, “So,” he continued, “You’re clearly nervous about something. And it’s not the case, because cases never make you nervous.”

“Really?” you said, a hint of laughter creeping into your tone, “You’re analyzing me?”

The elevator reached your floor, and the doors opened with a loud ding, “I’m not analyzing,” Spencer stepped out, “I’m simply making an astute observation.”

“Okay, well stop astutely observing me,” you followed after him, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. You know I’d tell you, “ it wasn’t necessarily a lie. Maybe you’d tell him. Eventually.

Spencer glanced back at you briefly as if he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth, but he never said anything. Instead, he took the keycard from you and held it against the lock, waiting for the light to turn green before pushing open the door, “Oh.”

“What?” you sidestepped around him, “Oh.”

There was only one bed. Sure, it was a double, but it was still tiny. It was in that moment that you decided perhaps becoming an unsub wouldn’t be a lost cause.

“I’ll take the couch.”

“I can sleep on the couch.”

You and Spencer finished your sentences at the same time, and you turned to look at each other. As soon as you locked eyes, you both started to laugh at the stupidity of the situation.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch either,” you argued, “It’ll kill your back, Spence. You’re way too tall.”

“It’s not fair on you, though. You’ll…” Spencer was about to argue some more, but he stopped when he saw the look on your face. Spencer couldn’t argue his way out of a wet paper bag - when it came to you, at least.

“Look, Spence. It’s fine,” you dropped your bag onto the couch before he could protest, “There. Easy. No harm done.”

Spencer frowned, but he reluctantly put his own bag on the bed, “Fine. We’re swapping tomorrow night, though,” he told you, almost ordering you, “You’re not sleeping on the couch the entire time we’re here.”

“Deal,” your lips curled up into a smile, and you sat down on the couch, “See. I told you I’d be sleeping near the window.”

Spencer laughed at that.

ꨄ︎

From your space on the couch, you could faintly see the glowing green alarm clock that sat on the bedside table. A strange commodity for a hotel room. It almost looked alien.

2:32 a.m.

You couldn’t sleep. You had a bad enough sleep schedule at the best of times, but the injury on your side was making things worse. It still burned, and if you gently put pressure on the area, you could still feel the deep wound through the layers of bandages.

You were almost three days into the case, and you’d finally had a solid lead. It had taken a lot of digging, but Penelope had discovered the unsub’s hunting ground; an old speakeasy hidden so deep in the town that nobody had been able to trace it. Since you were the closest in victimology, you’d agreed to go undercover to catch the unsub once and for all. All you’d ended up with was a knife embedded deep into your side as the unsub escaped once again.

You’d been in the hospital for hours after that. The knife had gone in so deep that it was close to catching something vital, and the doctors had told you that you were lucky to be alive. You’d spent most of that afternoon in a hospital bed, listening to the monotonous sound of beeping machines. After a concerned lecture from Aaron - he’d told you not to follow the unsub but you hadn’t exactly listened - you were bandaged up and sent on your way.

Spencer had told you to take the bed. He’d almost forced you into it at one point. But you’d seen the way he’d tried to discreetly stretch out his cramp throughout the day, and you were far too stubborn, so you refused his offer and tried to sleep on the couch for the night. It wasn’t working, though.

You huffed in pain, shifting uncomfortably in the hopes of finding a better position to sleep in. Every movement made your bandages rub against the wounded area. You finally thought you found a comfortable enough position and you tried to settle down, but then you felt a dampness seeping through your bandages, and you cursed under your breath.

“No, no, no,” you muttered, pulling your shirt up and surveying your body. Even in the darkness, you could see the dark spot where the blood had begun to soak through, “Goddamnit.”

You pushed yourself off the couch and tip-toed across the room. You didn’t want to wake Spencer, especially not in your current state. You kept a hand tightly pressed against your side as you slowly moved. You didn’t want to get blood on the carpet. The staff seemed lovely, and you didn’t want to ruin their day with your mess. Every single step made you wince as a sharp pain shot straight through your body, and your breaths came out as sharp little puffs of air.

A muffled noise from the bed caught your attention, and you saw Spencer begin to stir. He gently mumbled your name as he sat up and stared at you with bleary eyes, “What are you doing?” he looked you up and down, and then his eyes settled on the blood, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you told him, though you clearly weren’t, “I think the stitches came undone or something. It’s fine,” you tried to wave his worries off, “Go back to sleep.”

Spencer did the opposite. He clambered out of bed and turned on the light, lighting up the room so that you could both see each other clearly. Your heart started to thud a little faster when you saw that the shirt he was wearing to sleep in was a little undone towards the top. You’d never noticed that before.

“You’re not fine,” his eyes were laser focused on the blood as he took a step closer to you, “You’re bleeding.”

“Good observation skills, Spencer,” you laughed a little, though you grunted in pain as it aggravated the injury, “I told you, it’s fine. I’ll redress it, and…” you paused when you saw the look in his eyes. It was a look he’d never given you before, and it stole your breath for a moment.

“Let me see.”

“Spencer...”

“It’s obviously hurting you,” his sentence was almost demanding, and yet there was a soft and concerning tone to his voice, too, “Let me see it.”

You sighed. There was no way you could refuse when he spoke to you with that tone of voice. You gingerly lifted your shirt high enough for him to see it, “It looks worse than it is.”

Spencer gently pulled away the loose bandages and inspected the open wound, his eyes never leaving your body, “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “You’re not redressing it yourself, and you’re certainly not stitching yourself back up.”

You barely had a chance to respond before Spencer had darted into the bathroom, and he came out moments later with a roll of bandages the hospital had given you.

“Here. Sit,” he sat back down on the bed, and he patted the space beside him, “You’ll have to go back to hospital tomorrow. I’ll help you rebandage it for tonight,” his eyes darted between your own eyes and the blood that seemed to be pooling on your side, “Please.”

You hesitated for a moment, “Spencer…” there was no point in arguing with him, you knew that, and your wound hurt the longer it was left open, “Fine.”

You sat down beside Spencer, curling your legs up under you as you turned your back to him. Your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, holding it up high enough so that it wasn’t dangling in the way. This wasn’t the first time that Spencer had patched you up after an injury in the field, but this was the first time where you were definitely feeling a little light-headed.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” Spencer’s voice was a gentle whisper against your ear. You hadn’t even realized that he was practically leaning his head on your shoulder, “Sorry.”

Spencer’s hands were so gentle on your skin that it was almost as if he wasn’t even touching you at all. The only indication that he was even helping you was the bandages around your torso since he wrapped them so tightly that they felt like a strangely comforting hug.

“There,” Spencer said, almost proudly, and he gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Done.”

You glanced down at your body before dropping your shirt. The wound didn’t even seem to hurt any more. You became very aware very quickly that Spencer’s hands hadn’t left your hips, “Thank you.”

You shuffled around until you were facing him, and when your eyes locked, it suddenly felt as if time had come to a standstill. That look was back in his eyes; the one that you’d never seen before that made you feel as though you were melting on the inside. You weren’t entirely sure what was racing faster; your heart or your mind.

And suddenly, before you could really comprehend your actions, your lips were on his. Your body acted before your brain could catch up. Your hands tugged slightly on the collar of his shirt as if you were trying to pull him closer to you. The kiss was tender, and yet it was so full of obvious desire. Warmth flooded your entire body as your stomach seemed to explode with swarms of butterflies. This was a moment you’d thought about for a long time, and once your brain caught up, you couldn’t quite comprehend that it was happening.

It may have only been a few seconds, but it felt like hours. You pulled away, and it was only after you saw the startled expression on Spencer’s face and the faint blush that crept up his neck that you realized what you’d done, “Spence…” your mouth opened and closed, but now words came out for a good few seconds, “Spencer. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Your panicked babbling was cut off as Spencer pressed a quick kiss to your lips, “Shut up,” he smiled, and he pressed his index fingers where his lips had been moments ago, “Just shut up for a minute.”

If this were any other time, you’d be rather offended that he told you to shut up, and you’d keep talking. In this situation, however, you were happy to keep your mouth shut.

“You didn’t mean to, what? You didn’t mean to kiss me?”

“No. I mean… Yes, but also no, but…”

Spencer raised an eyebrow with a faint smirk, “I thought I told you to shut up.”

You pressed your lips together in a fine line, “Sorry.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips, and he took your hands in his own. He squeezed them gently, and his thumbs began tracing soft little circles onto your palms, “You kissed me.”

You were more than ready for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Spencer seemed to notice because his grip on your hands got a little tighter as if he knew you’d go run, “I’m glad you kissed me.”

There was no stopping the surprised squeak that escaped your lips, “What?!”

Spencer chuckled at that, and the pink blush had spread up to his cheeks, “I’m glad you kissed me,” he repeated, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“You… You…” your mouth was hanging open, and your eyes were wide. You must’ve looked like an absolute idiot, “You have…?”

“Of course, I did.”

This conversation was going in an entirely different direction to how you’d assumed it was. You’d never seen Spencer look or talk with so much affection before. Spencer said your name with so much love in his tone that it snapped you out of your shocked state, “I like you.”

For a single moment in time, it felt as if the world had stopped spinning. You simply stared, unable to do much of anything else except feel a sharp tug at your heart, “You… You do…?”

“Are you capable of putting a sentence together, or not?” Spencer laughed, and he interlaced his fingers with yours, “Yes, I do. A lot, actually,” he smiled at you, and there was a hint of teasing, “I might be a genius, but even the dumbest person in the room could figure you out right now.”

You cracked a smile, and your shocked expression gave way to a relieved and delighted one, “I really like you, too.”

“Do you? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Shut up,” you giggled, and you never giggled. You knew this crush was childish, but this was on another level entirely.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you giggle.”

“I’m not giggling.”

“Oh, you absolutely are. You’ve always been a terrible liar,” Spencer grinned at you, and then his lips connected with yours.

The kiss seemed more affectionate than earlier, and a lot more passionate. Your hands wound around his neck, and his hands found a comfortable resting place on your waist. Your lips seemed to perfectly fit together like two puzzle pieces. It could’ve been seconds, or it could’ve been minutes. You weren’t entirely sure how long it had been, but you eventually pulled away from each other, and you were both a little breathless from the intensity. Intense was something you never expected from Spencer. You liked it, though.

You let your forehead rest against Spencer’s, “I hate to ruin the mood and everything, but…” your eyes flitted back and forth to the couch, “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore?”

“Absolutely not,” Spencer pulled you a little closer, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. Especially not now.”

“Good,” you curled into him as he pulled you closer to his side, letting your head rest against his chest with a gentle sigh, “The bed has better company.”

Spencer maneuvered the two of you until you were lying on the bed, and he tucked you that tiny bit closer into him. You’d imagined him hugging you plenty of times, but this felt better than any imagination could. He kissed the top of your head, and he ran a gentle hand up and down your back, “Sure does.”

ꨄ︎

“Penelope Garcia! I’m going to kill you!”

You stormed through the BAU and entered Penelope’s office, slamming the door open with such a bang that it made the walls shudder.

Penelope grinned as she spun around in her chair to face you, “Ah, my sweet angel,” she spoke with a beaming grin on her face, “Do you require my assistance?”

“You little…” you stepped a little closer, but it was hard to look even slightly threatening with a goofy grin on your face that you were trying to hide, “You gave me and Spencer the only room with a single bed?”

“I did no such thing.”

“I spoke to everyone else, Pen. Everyone else had a bed of their own.”

Penelope continued to smirk at you, not even trying to hide her laughter, “It worked, didn’t it? I haven’t seen you as happy as this in weeks.”

You faltered at that. She wasn’t wrong. Ever since you’d gotten back from Wyoming, you’d been happier than anyone had ever seen you. Of course, everyone knew about you and Spencer, and it didn’t take long for the good-natured teasing to pick straight back up, “Yeah. Okay. It worked, but…”

Penelope held up a manicured finger to cut you off, “Besides, my sweet,” she continued, leaning forward in her chair as if she had a secret to tell you, “I was the one who booked the rooms, yes, but I wasn’t the one who handed out the keys, was I?”

Another pause. The words slowly sunk in, and then your mouth dropped open in a mix of shock, humiliation, and a little bit of gratitude, “You… You don’t mean…”

Penelope grinned. She could practically see the gears turning in your head, and it made her laugh, “Oh, I mean exactly what you think I mean, my love.”

“Hotch set us up?!” you didn’t even wait for Penelope’s response. You turned on your heel and marched out of her office, leaving Penelope laughing to herself behind you, “Aaron Hotchner! I’m going to kill you.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader

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carelessflower · 3 months

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On Testing and Qualifying Magnus Lightwood-Bane's Sugar Daddy Behaviors - An Analysis

Multiple arguments have been made against the current High Warlock of Brooklyn, superficially regarding whether this gentleman's reputation as the current Consul of the Clave's sugar daddy is underappreciated or exaggerated. This study aims to dissect the argument with the support of textual evidence throughout the couple's appearances in the series

Paying for their first date

Taking care of the bill like a gentleman. From this instance, one can assume he takes his gentlemanly courting ritual very seriously, as he also reached for the meal cheques in other occassions

Conjuring and pelping to pick fine clothes for Alec

On their famous Europe vacation, it is shown Magnus has a habit of magicking tuxedoes, suits, and well-made sweaters for Alec. Now, if he could upgrade that GAP scarf to a Burberry one, it would be much appreciated

Gentleman behavior

Even though his boyfriend is supernaturally strong with biceps to bite for days and hunts bloodthirsty demons for a living, Magnus would still rather pay someone to carry the heavy luggage than his darling

Luxurious accommodation only

There has been a previously published study on the expenses for all these places here, so this article will be repeating the same key points:

one night at Istanbul Grand Suite on the Orient Express: $26,000

suite in Belmond Hotel Cipriani: $1,056

suite in Palazzo Manfredi, Rome: $729

It is understandably relatable when one pulls Alec Lightwood and wants to do everything in their power to woo him. For Magnus, it apparently includes never letting Alec stay in any place less than five stars

Letting Alec drive the Maserati

It costs around $10,860 to rent a red Maserati 3500 GT Vignale Spider for one day. Therefore, it speaks volumes to Magnus's affection for his boyfriend that Alec almost crashes them and the expensive car off a cliff is just a "tiny accident". It is also very likely he buys this type of car later, seeing his husband's fascination with them

Living together in Brooklyn

Months into the relationship Alec has already possessed a literal key to Magnus's home and proceeds to move in after weeks of getting back together. For other poor souls who are looking for a 3-bedroom brownstone in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, the rent would be estimated at around $5000 per month. For the Consul, it certainly would involve a different type of payment method

Alec's magically money-full pocket

The consul carrying energy bars in his duffle bag instead of using the 15000$ in his pocket guarantees the funniest mental images one could possibly imagine

Enchanting Izzy's whip for Alec's birthday

Knowing Alec's top wish is to keep his family safe, Magnus chooses to tip his boyfriend's sister's whip in a prized potion to help her on the battlefield. Loving someone to the point you want to protect what else they love

Assisting shadowhunter without payment

This element may prove to be the strongest supporter of Magnus's claim as THE sugar daddy of the shadowhunter chronicles universe title, seeing how he used to overcharge shadowhunter on their business (deservingly so), and now he is willing to do all kinds of crazy shenanigans without an ounce of money. Whoever's in charge of the Clave's budget better send Alec the biggest, freshest, most expensive fruit basket

Final note

In conclusion, this research paper does not provide a definitive answer to the argument but encourages readers to draw their own perspectives. Nevertheless, it is a great possibility that in his report, the consul stated he used 10-20 dollars each week while he was traveling across the world, going to Japan when he craved sushi and staying in the finest places, all thanks to his generous husband

tag list: @magnus-the-maqnificent @literallytypogod @hoezier-than-thou @sociallyineptbibliophile @queenlilith43

@khaleesiofalicante @wandererbyheart @raziyekroos @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @alexandergideonslightwood @andrwminward

@noah-herondale-lightwood @elettralightwood @dustandducks @deliciousdetectivestranger @delightfullyterrible

@letsgofortacos

@kita-no @thelightofthebane @secrettryst @goldendreams3 @cityofdownwardspirals

@stupidfuckindinosaur

@i-have-not-slept @rinadragomir @potato-jem @kasper-tag @cam-ryt

@banesapothecary

#malec #alec lightwood #magnus bane #shadowhunters #tsc #tmi #the mortal instruments #the shadowhunter chronicles #the eldest curses #tec #the red scrolls of magic #trsom #alec lightwood bane #magnus lightwood bane #meta #META COOL THAT IS #it somehow very clear in this post i major in psychology

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deadsetobsessions · 8 months

Text

AU of Gotham! Tim Drake! Danny where he doesn’t know the universe he was reincarnated into.

“Robin!” Batman barked. Tim sighed, loudly. Batman twitched.

“What is it, B?”

“Drills. Again.”

Tim rolled his eyes but moved to obey. Speaking to B these days was like speaking to a rather boorish caveman. Simple grunts and single word sentences. It didn't use to be like this but B was loosing his grip on his humanity and it’s Tim’s job to bring it back.

It’s hilarious because he’s the least human of them all. It was odd, juggling his duties as Danny Gotham, his responsibilities as Tim, and his workload as Bruce’s shiny new Robin. Somehow he made it work.

Yeah, sometimes B’s hands are heavy when they’re training. Sometimes he forgets Danny’s name (or at least his human name) and calls for Jason instead. Sometimes, he smells more like booze and less like Bruce.

Danny could handle it. Even if his core quivers with grief. He wished he didn’t have to, but he could and will handle whatever he needs to for his Knight to regain himself. But fuck, that doesn’t mean taking his self destructive habits lying down. He might be Tim right now, but as far as Batman knew, Tim was here on the orders of

“B.”

“Hm.”

Oh, a neutral grunt! I see we’ve upgraded to grunts instead of arm flapping! Holy detective, Batman! Aren’t I glad I learned to speak cave man? Wow! Tim mocked, in his head.

“You’re heading to bed when I’m done with this set,” Tim said.

“This case isn’t done,” Batman growled. Ancients, it was like speaking to a large chihuahua-toddler hybrid. All the barking, all the growling, and all the petulance of a child makes the entirety of how his Knight acted on a good day these days.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Tim shot back, sore arms and legs and everything working through the set. Thank the ancients for his healing, or else Tim might actually be dying.

“You don’t give me orders, Robin.”

“No, but Gotham does.” He would know, considering Tim was Gotham.

The head full of greasy- ew, take a shower, B!- hair swiveled towards him.

“You have a direct line to Gotham?”

Tim settled into the final forms of the night. “Gotham sent me. I thought we went over this.”

A beat of silence.

Batman returned to clacking away at the computer. Tim finished his set in relative peace. He moved to the cool down stretches while Batman sulked in front of his computer like a five year old.

“I’m done.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Hm.”

“That means you’re done, too.”

“I’m not tired.”

Tim rolled his eyes so hard, he thinks he saw the light. Oh, wait, that’s just Bruce’s last brain cell dying.

“You’re heading to bed. Good luck finding actual crime tomorrow, if you stay up.”

Batman stilled, because he knows Gotham would back Tim up on the threat. Considering the time sensitivity of some of these cases, Gotham’s anger is not something he could risk.

Tim patted himself on the back for effectively playing the good cop and the bad cop on his own. Except ACAB for life because they’re vigilantes and the GCPD as a whole (with exceptions) sucks ass.

He watched as Batman- as Bruce- reluctantly powered down the Bat-Computer. As he stood up, Tim wrinkled his nose.

“Never mind. You take a shower first. I’ll text Alfred.”

“Not necessary.”

“Okay, then you can explain to Gotham why you’re traipsing through his city looking a starved rat and smelling like you took a joy ride in Killer Croc’s excrement. Oh, wait.” Tim snapped, just about done being patient today. Tim whipped out his phone, texting Alfred with one hand and pointing towards the staircase with the other.

“Shower above ground, you weird little mole rat. No cave water for you.”

Bruce makes a weird offended grunt.

“I literally don’t care if you have to walk up to your room to shower in your boxers, B. Most of Gotham’s people don’t have access to a shower, let alone a million dollar bathroom. Fucking use your actual bathroom instead of hosing off.”

And with that, Batman and Bruce Wayne moved to the tune of a pre-teen, who was also, unknowingly to him, the spirit of his City.

——

“Go home.”

Tim smiled sweetly. Bruce paled. The scary, Gotham loved child patted Bruce’s hand as he sat beside Bruce’s bed.

“Sleep, before I make you.”

Bruce slammed his eyelids shut, anything to not look at Tim’s malicious looking eyes, and allowed himself- nay, forced himself- to rest for the first time in weeks since Jason died.

As Bruce’s dumb self drifted off to dreamland, Tim muttered, “Wuss.”

He settled himself into the chair, napping lightly to make sure Bruce doesn’t sneak out to work when he’s gone.

Alfred snapped a quick picture.

#Tim Drake #Tim Drake as Robin #dc x dp #batman #danny phantom #danny phantom is tim drake #danny phantom is a little shit #sassy danny #Bruce Wayne #bruce wayne getting bullied into self care #depressed Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Gotham!Danny #danny is a menace #the cave has a shower #Bruce is using the hosing down station #like the ones in labs #for safety? but Bruce is using it because it’s a quick rinse

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monst · 1 month

Text

Go for a drive?

Tim Drake X Gn. Reader

Extra: Fluff, Fairly Suggestive. Established relationship, A meandering conversation with your bf as he takes you on a drive. Don’t be a Tim & Please drive safely!

WC: 2.1K

You were clutching at the shades Tim had chucked at you earlier; Desperately trying to keep them from flying off your face from the high-speed winds. The grey pavement was never-ending as the car Oh, excuse you as the ‘It’s a Lexus LFA 4.8liters v10 god this car’s a beast! Shame, that they only made so many before production ended’ roared down the Jersey countryside. The meter read 160mph, and climbing. With your death grip on the lens and arms of the shades, you turned to Timothy. “Do we really need the windows down?”

“Nope.” He rolled them up, while his right hand reached out in a grabby motion. Releasing your grip on the shades you linked your fingers with his cold ones. When Tim asked you to go on a drive with him you weren't expecting him to keep to the speed limit however, you did expect him to stay near Gotham. You should’ve expected the longer drive once he pulled up to your street with ‘his baby’.

“Sounds nice.” You commented after a couple of minutes of silent hand-holding.

“Doesn’t it!” He grinned, “It’s designed this way so that you can hear the v10 tone inside the car.” His obvious enthusiasm for the car was infectious! “Right now we’re listening to nine-thousand rpm! Uh that’s how fast the engine’s spinning it’s why the” He pauses suddenly face flushed, pretty blue eyes averted. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, it’s cute!” You insist. “I like hearing you talk about your interests even if some of this car stuff is kinda going over my head.” You squeeze his fingers, urging him to continue. His responding okay is small but he clears his throat to continue. His eyes shift to you briefly before crinkling at the corners when he faces the road.

“Right, I think that my favorite part about this car is how I got it.”

“Spill, what’d you do?” you tilt your legs, leaning your torso towards him like a sunflower.

“Nothing devious.” he rolls his eyes.

“That’s surprising knowing you.” You tease. “Didn’t win it by finding the key to the fifth dimension or something?”

“No, nothing that exciting.” He bit back a smile, happy that you're poking fun at his frankly ridiculous escapades. “Um, I was maybe fifteen when Bruce brought her home.” He ignored your giddy ‘her?’ with a huff. “Yes her, It was one of the last ones made and I wasn’t supposed to drive it, but you’ve seen her!? I just had to!”

“I took her out a couple of weeks later.” You felt the car slow, Tim’s hand briefly leaving yours to mess with the GPS.

“With permission?”

His pink flush was enough of an answer. He clears his throat again, a little habit you’d begun to associate with him doing when he was feeling sheepish. “Well, Bruce did say I could use any car I wanted if an emergency presented itself.” You were dying to ask.

“What emergency?” You interrupted yet again. To be fair to you, you knew Tim would skim out details he thought were unimportant if you didn’t practically interrogate him.

“BatBurger’s limited addition Gotham Knights’ Nightwing toy…”

“A battymeal!?” You laughed.

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up. The resale is about thirty thousand.” You choked on your laugh, eyes wide.

“For a five-dollar meal toy?!”

“Mhmm. And mine still works. It was one of those toys that say phrases.” Out of your peripheral, you see a car pull out into the road in front of you. Tim slows. “So he still says “Let’s go Knights!” and “Strike out!” it doesn’t sound like Dick at all!” He chuckles. “The Knights were in the playoffs that year!.. And that year alone.”

You snort, eyes fixed on the road, still trying to glean where you're going. “I knew it was bound to be a novelty item one day. So, I just had to snatch it up, and if my car just so happened to be the only one with gas to get me there~”

“Two birds one stone?”

“Two birds one stone.” He affirmed. “Alfred was picking up groceries that morning, Bruce was in a meeting and Dick was working at the BPD at the time.” Your eyes met once more before he continued. “And since it was early, that meant everyone else was occupied so I drove the sickest! car through the drive-thru that day. Unfortunately, I did get caught.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup, Kevin’s dad was picking up some coffee right across the street, ‘said he recognized my hair when he blabbed to Bruce.”

“Kevin?”

“Hudman, we used to play Wizards and Warriors together.” He rolled his eyes when you called him a nerd. “I’m pretty sure you said you loved me the other day so what does that say about you that you love a nerd?”

“That I have good taste” You saw his smile pull at his cheeks and decided to add. “So roleplay huh?”

“Get your head out of the gutter.”

“Oh, so you only like the tabletop role-play?” He groaned, cheeks pink as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“You're lucky I’m driving.”

“Kinky.”

“Are you gonna let me finish?” he sighed. You bit your lip at the wording, omitting words to nod while raising your eyebrows suggestively. He cleared his throat, brain catching up to his words “As I was saying, He called Bruce and I got in trouble. He didn’t let me knowingly touch the car for months. Then one day it was gone.” You felt the car turn down a new path, scattered farms and homes on either side of the road.

“Thought for sure he used it for a cover story but I looked through articles and no Lexy-” You cut him off once again.

“I’m sorry?! You did not name the car Lexy.”

“Don’t listen to her Lexy it’s a good name.” “Oh my god” “I checked the lower levels of the cave, nothing. I even asked Bruce and he said that he could’ve sworn Jason took it. So obviously I hunted him down”

He paused his tale to check the map. “We're almost there. So, I found him in Ibiza. He said he didn’t take it, but that Dick had mentioned something about "hot new wheels". I called him right there! On the beach and got the worst sunburn of my life. The third worst sunburn of my life. Regardless. I wanted to make sure. Dick didn’t have it. I was this close to losing it but that’s when B decided to take a spontaneous leave of absence. And I had to go back. Oh, here we are.”

He pulled into a semi-filled lot, at the center was an old building a decent line leading up to it. “Ice-cream? This far out?” You were skeptical.

“Wait till you try it~” His car drew more stares than the Tim Drake-Wayne. Said ‘Wayne’ taking your hand in his as he walked you to queue the line. You eyed the menu from your spot, nudging Tim with your elbow. “What happened next? You said you had to go back to Gotham?”

“Mm.” He replied. “He was gone for a while.”

“You missed him?” He squeezed your hand.

“A bit.”

Tim’s arm settled across your shoulder as you waited, the sunlight glowing gold-orange as each person in the line received their icy treat. “Hey Joe, my usual, and what are you ordering honey?” You told ‘Joe’ your order, cuddling into Tim’s side as the cooling wind nipped at your nose. Tim chatted with the man, introduced you, and promised the man a ride during the time it took for him to make and hand over your ice cream,

You waved at Joe before hopping back into your seat. Peeking into his waffle bowl to see Nepoliation ice cream topped with a gooey-looking brownie. “You seem to know everyone.” He shrugged, his blank expression morphing into a concerned pout. You smirked watching as he struggled to figure out where best to place his bowl. “Just give it.”

“You sure?” You opened and closed your palm, and he handed it over with a quick thanks. Once the engine roared to life you were off again. Where? Tim had said both places were a surprise. You hummed while you lapped at your ice cream, Tim fiddling with the buttons on the wheel. He shot you an apologetic look as he pulled out his phone to drive one-handed.

“If we die I’m going to kill you.”

“We’re not gonna die, and your hands are full.” He protested. “I have a playlist.”

“Great so my death will have a soundtrack.” You paused. “Oh my god did we drive all that with no music!?” Were you that into him? Oh. You felt your cheeks warm glad for the music notes that left the speaker. Only that- “Wait? So where was the car in all of this?”

“Well, apparently he had Clark move it.” “Huh?” “Yeah! Caught me off guard too, When he came back I told you how he adopted me. And then not long after, Damian turned up and everything got hectic.” His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. “The cave blew up and I wasn’t even thinking of the car. I think it was years later when I thought of it again, saw one at a show. I figured that it was still down there in pieces.”

“But Clark had it?”

“Getting there baby, It was my twenty-first birthday. Legal to drink and I know that’s why he gave it to me on that day.” Tim was smiling glancing off to the side mirror before making another turn. “It was Dick’s idea to wrap the car in car shape. I was really excited! At first, I thought it was a different car. But the air freshener was still the same. My name on the little tree!” Your cheeks hurt from your smile. “Bruce told Clark to hide it. Still can’t believe it!

“That’s so sweet.” Tim ducked his head a bit, ears rosy. “So your favorite part is that it was a surprise or a gift?”

“Both,” He hummed.

“Hm.” You looked down to your ice cream and then eyed his bowl. “Your ice cream is melting.”

“Shoot! Uh, Feed me?” You sputtered, floundering for a bit before sighing, face hot as you mumbled a strained sure. You still haven’t figured out how he distinguishes what he considers embarrassing. You lifted the plastic spoon to his lips watching with amusement as he twisted his mouth to eat. Tame Impala played in the background when he turned down what looked like an abandoned road.

“I’ve got it from here,” He said around the spoon as he drove up to the precipice. You let him turn off the engine before handing him his bowl, turning back to finish yours.

“So where are we?”

“We are currently sitting at the best place to watch the meteor shower in all of Jersey.”

“That’s today?”

“Yes. At least I’m pretty sure it’s today. I made sure to double-check to see if anything was gonna throw them off their planned orbit.” He turned to his watch. “Yup should be good, in about an hour or two.” He tipped the bowl up to his lips to drink the remains of the ice cream.

“An hour or two?”

“Maybe two..” He began to chew at the sides of his bowl.

“Tim.” You pressed.

“We’re a bit early.” You rolled your eyes. “I timed it right, we were only supposed to wait about thirty minutes?!”

“Tim, Darling” He frowned at your tone. “Did you account for your speeding?” His wide-eyed stare was as cute as it was frustrating. “So what we just sit here?”

Tim looked out the driver's side window, the overgrown grass giving him pause in asking you to take a stroll. He mulled over his options as you finished up your ice cream, pink tongue peaking out to catch all traces of the sticky treat from your lips. You perceived his stare, his heavy lids narrowed down towards your lips. “We could do something else.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe..." He pulled his seat as far back as it went, dark eyes locked onto your form. "You can come over here and find out~”

“In the Lexus LFA 4.8liters v10?! Timothy!" You gasped, mock scandalization dripping from your tone, your hands quickly undoing your seatbelt. Your body practically materializes onto the driver's seat, your weight settling against Tim. You feel more than you hear Tim’s 'harumph' and you can’t stop your grin against his lips as you ask just for kicks “In Lexy?!”

#tim drake x reader #tim drake fluff #red robin x reader #uh random bullshit go!#granted he doesn't drive a Lexus in canon but the redbird isn't a particular model also they'd have different cars don't think too hard #he's a car guy all of them are except for maybe Duke Dick Cass and Damian if we're just doing the Wayne's #hcs ig

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uglypastels · 1 month

Note

Hey can you do a coffee shop AU ab Gambit where the reader works at the shop Remy frequents? But one day there’s an attack and her mutation manifests?? Love your writing!

stick with me as I try to figure out how to write his accent lol. it's just a quick and fun lil thang but i hope you like it. [also, is this my first ever coffee shop au?? it might be. don't quote me on that tho]

warnings: slight cursing. supervillain attack.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

‘Will that be the usual, Remy?’ You already pulled out the paper cup to write his name and order on it, looking up expectantly for him to confirm your suspicion.

‘You know it, chere.’

‘One cafe au lait, coming up.’ You chirped with a smile, noting it down on the side of the cup. Like the well-oiled machine the two of you have become over the past weeks, he didn’t need to hear the price and just slid a five-dollar bill across the counter and pushed another exact bill through the slit of the little tip jar next to the register.

‘Well, you know,’ and just like any other time, you couldn’t help but comment on his generosity, ‘you really don’t have to do all that. It’s just coffee.’ As much as you appreciated his gesture, a twinge of guilt struck you as he practically paid double for what already was an overpriced beverage.

‘It ain't for the coffee,’ he smirked, which, with a flash of heat, immediately radiated onto your cheeks. It all happened like clockwork, and so you reminded yourself that that’s just who he was. You were sure he did it with anyone, so you mustn’t let it get to you. To not get too hung up over a customer who made it a habit throughout his day to flirt with his barista.

‘Here ya go,’ you presented him with the drink.

‘I donno how you do it, belle,’ Remy said after his first sip, a satisfied expression spreading over his face. ‘Perfect. Evry time.’

‘Why, thank you.’ You reciprocated his smile, but really, it was no big deal. You were just doing your job—something that was only easier considering your talents. Practically being a human heat conductor made preparing a perfect cup o’ joe fairly simple. Still, when a charming Cajun walked into your establishment and showered you in compliments on a nearly daily basis, the effect might have been a bit stronger than a one-off comment from a stranger. No matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to deny his allure.

For a Tuesday morning, the café was surprisingly clear of customers besides a couple of taken tables at the windows, where some early birds had begun their day by reading the paper or getting a headstart on their work. And so, with no line rushing him off behind him, Remy sipped his coffee right by your side.

‘Say, don’t you have somewhere else to be, Rem?’ you teased as you wiped the counter.

‘With a beautiful lady righ in front of me, there ain't nowhere I rather be.’

‘Oh, shush, you.’ You tried to ignore it, but the steam coming off from the once wet handtowel you used to clean was saying differently. Both of you were about to open your mouths, the snarky banter already dripping from both your lips, but that all faltered as the ground beneath you shook. The soft ambience brought on by the instrumental music playing in the background over the speakers was overrun by the aggressive shaking of all the products and measuring jugs falling to the ground. But soon, even that was silenced by the screams that followed. A stampede of morning commuters was running through the street, eyes wide and pale with fear.

‘What the–’ you muttered out, carefully making your way to the window. Perhaps not the smartest move, but the curiosity had gotten the better of you. And it sure had; as right as you had reached your lookout point, all your senses were thrown off guard by an explosion. The world around you turned upside down— or was that just you as you were thrown off your feet and across the room following a million pieces of shattered glass?

You were ready to fall into the puddle of shards, but instead, you were met with the hold of two strong arms, and once you dared to open your eyes, you saw a pair of glowing red ones.

‘You alright?’ Remy put you down on the ground.

Still, in shock, all you could respond with was a nod. You watched as Remy made his way across the glass-covered floor, calling out to the fear-stricken people in the café.

‘Is gonna be all right, everyone.’ He helped a lady get back up on her feet and make her way to the back of the room. ‘Stay inside. Get z’away from the street.’ And even though you wanted to listen to his command, you found yourself walking back towards him.

‘What are you doing, cher?’ With his hand on your shoulder, he held you back from taking another step.

‘I wanna help.’ It was clear enough to you that he was about to fight whatever it was that was scaring all those people outside, and there was no way in hell you’d let him go out there on his own.

‘Do you even know what you’re up against?’

‘Do you?’ you hit back, and that response clearly pleased him. The worry on his lips turned up into a smirk. So, the barista had a spark to her. It didn’t surprise him, necessarily. If anything, the excitement from seeing this side of you sparked a rush through his whole body.

Side by side, you ran out into the street, avoiding the last few incomers who were trying their best to escape whatever it was you were about to greet. And what that was, you soon found out. All you had to do was look up into the sky.

‘Le Bon Dieu.’ Remy cursed under his breath.

‘Damn.’ You gasped at the sight of what you could only describe to be a giant robot floating above the tall buildings. Eyes glowing with a fire that burst in jetstreams of destruction.

Perhaps you were way in over your head, getting into a fight with a steel giant, fighting with a nearly complete stranger, and yet, when you looked up at him, and your eyes met, you had a feeling that you’d be just fine.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

#remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau x y/n #remy lebeau x you #remy lebeau fanfiction #remy lebeau fanfic #remy lebeau imagine #gambit x reader #gambit x you #gambit x y/n #gambit fanfiction #gambit fanfic #gambit imagine #fluff #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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hungermakesmonsters · 2 months

Text

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Fourteen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Slight smuttiness and angst that might make you scream. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : I'm dialling the angst up to 11...

MASTER LIST

Chapter Fourteen

Everything changed.

It felt like it had when you’d first taken the job, like you were alone in the penthouse with no idea of where Billy was or if he’d even come home the night before. The only indicator was the blood you left for him; if it was gone, that meant he was home but some days it would collect until there were three or four days worth waiting for him.

Those days were the worst.

You hated not knowing where he was or if he was drinking someone else’s blood, wondering if you weren’t enough for him anymore, if your blood wasn’t enough. If he stopped taking your blood, you knew you’d have no purpose there.

Day after day, your thoughts spiralled, and you hated yourself for how much of your time was spent thinking about him.

Despite her promises, Karen hadn’t been to see you. Instead, when Thursday had rolled around you’d been greeted by a note from Billy, lacking all the charm and feeling of his previous notes.

Karen asked me to let you know that she can’t see you today because of work.

The next week there was a similar note. It made sense, you supposed; she’d missed work to look after you for a week, she probably had to make up for lost time. Or, maybe she just didn’t want to see you again. You wouldn’t have blamed her, not when you’d caused so much chaos in the lives of her and those around her. Either way, it meant you were stuck in the penthouse. Alone.

It wasn’t long before you fell back into old habits, following a little routine every day to try and keep yourself from losing your mind; exercise in the morning, followed by a shower, preparing and cooking dinner, and some reading and baking in between.

You still sat out in the penthouse during the day, in your favourite spot on the sofa, alternating between taking in the view and reading, but you didn’t dare linger until sunset anymore.

Every few minutes you found yourself looking at your watch, knowing exactly when to head to your room, knowing with almost pinpoint precision how to avoid him. By day the penthouse was yours and, once late afternoon started to give way to evening, it was Billy’s. As it always should have been. As per your contract.

So, when he chose to slip out of his room far earlier than expected, you weren’t sure whether to be shocked or annoyed.

It was the first time you’d seen him since he’d tried to pay you to leave, and being near him again was enough to remind you that that wound still hadn’t started to heal. You tried not to watch as he made his way to the kitchen.

For a moment you waited, expecting him to do whatever he was doing and then return to his room. Only he didn’t and that prompted you to start moving.

“What are you reading now?” He dared to ask, watching you as you closed your book and started to gather up your things.

The question caught you off-guard, it made you think of how things had been only a few short weeks before, it reminded you of all the times you’d sat and discussed literature, the way he’d always wanted to know your thoughts and feelings on whatever you were reading.

But things weren’t like that anymore, and the question felt weighted, like he was trying to draw you back in, even though he’d been the one to try and send you away.

“The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde,” you answered, your words coming out sharper than intended, making it sound almost like an insult. And, a moment after you said it you realised how it might seem to him, how he might draw parallels between the book and his own situation.

Billy didn’t respond straight away and you took it as your cue to leave, tucking the book and the pack of Oreos under your bad arm. You heard him sigh as you turned away but didn’t think to look back.

“Hummingbird,” he called after you and, then, your name when that didn’t work, a hint of desperation in his tone.

It made your heart ache.

You kept walking, speeding up, wanting to reach your room and close the door on this uncomfortable experience. But Billy didn’t want to give you that.

Your breath caught and you flinched as his hand wrapped around your wrist, reminding you of the night he’d lost control. Billy noticed your panic immediately and let go of you before taking a step back, giving you a little bit of space but nowhere near what you wanted. It took a moment before you could bring yourself to turn and look at him and, when you did, you found that you hated the look of anguish on his face.

“What do you want, Billy?” You asked, barely holding back a sigh.

“This is unbearable,” he told you.

It was. Everything about the last couple of weeks had been so much worse than you ever could have imagined when you first decided that you were going to stay against his wishes.

You quickly found that you couldn’t look at him, that you didn’t want to see the torrent of emotions from behind his dark eyes.

“This is what you wanted,” you muttered.

“I didn’t want this.”

“No, that’s right, you wanted me gone completely,” you said, your voice betraying the pain you still felt at that fact.

The last thing you expected was for him to take your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. Seconds ticked by and he just stared, his gaze seeming to look right through you. His head shook.

“That’s not what I wanted,” he replied softly.

When you tried to look away, his hold remained firm.

“You didn’t want me anymore,” you told him. “You tried to send me away.”

“You think I don’t want you?”

“Of course you don’t.”

His head shook again and, before you realised what he was doing, he’d closed the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. He stepped closer, trying to eliminate the space between you, causing you to step back. Billy didn’t let you pull away from him, continuing to kiss you until you felt the door at your back.

“Billy -” you managed to pull your lips from his for a moment, but anything that followed was quickly muffled by another kiss.

It was easy to surrender to it. Far easier than you would have liked. For a moment you kissed him back, feeling his hand drop from your cheek to your neck, fingers over your racing pulse. He pressed closer, filling you with a longing that you’d been trying so hard to forget. Your lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss, allowing him to make you want.

You wanted to melt into him, to lose yourself in his embrace, in his kiss. In him.

For a few wonderful seconds, you forgot everything that wasn’t him, allowing yourself to believe that the moment would continue to escalate. Your thighs clenched at the familiar press of his erection against your hip, and you let your hand grip his shirt at his waist, not wanting it to end.

For a moment you felt wanted again, like you could really belong here, in his life. For a moment it almost felt real.

But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Not now, not after everything that had happened.

Reluctantly, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him back. Billy choked back a desperate noise, giving you only a fraction of the space you wanted. His hand remained on your neck, fingers curled against skin, as if wanted to hold onto you in any way that he could.

You watched as his tongue ran over his lower lip as he struggled to find the words.

“Please,” he muttered softly, his voice causing your stomach to knot, “let me...”

He leaned in again and you allowed his lips to ghost yours before turning your head. The shuddered sigh that left him was almost enough to break your heart completely. As much as you wanted to be strong, you wanted to give in just as much. You wanted to close your eyes and let him kiss you, you wanted to pretend that the last few weeks hadn’t happened.

His hands pulled away from you, though not by much. He placed each on the door on either side of your head, keeping you boxed in as he lowered his head in shame.

“I just...” He started and stopped just as quickly.

You weren’t sure you even wanted to know what he wanted to say or how he was feeling. It felt like too much to bear, like you couldn’t carry the weight of your own emotions along with his.

It took a few seconds for you to realise that your hand was still pressed against his chest, over a heart that barely gave a beat.

Finally you shook your head.

“This isn’t fair,” you muttered.

Billy finally dared to look up, the flicker of hope on his face quickly extinguished when his gaze met yours. You didn’t dare ask what he thought you’d meant by the comment but it was clear he now understood what you really meant; he wasn’t being fair.

“I can’t do this again,” you confessed, your voice little more than a whisper, and almost immediately regretted the words when you felt him tense beneath your hand. “It hurts too much when it doesn’t mean anything to you.”

“Don’t say that,” he said as his chest lurched. “Of course it means something.”

“It means something now, because you want something now,” you said, trying so hard not to break down completely. “What about tomorrow, or next week, or the next time something bad happens? The next time you decide it’s better for me to not be here anymore?”

The change in him was visceral, his hands finally pulling away from the wall, the corner of his lips curling. When he pulled back, he stood at full height, making you feel impossibly small, practically looking down his nose at you. Gone was the pleading look of desperation and the flashes of shame, leaving a nothingness on his face as he looked at you a moment longer.

It was as if a mask had dropped and you were finally seeing him for the first time. Your hand dropped lifelessly to your side and you bristled, holding your breath and ready to move at a moment's notice.

But nothing happened.

“Fine,” was all he said before pulling away from you and heading towards the elevator.

You remained pressed back against the door, barely daring to draw breath as he left, running away instead of daring to admit that you were right. Even though you knew it was for the best and that you’d done the right thing, there was a pang of regret deep in your gut and a feeling of inconsolable loneliness that you weren’t sure you could handle.

The next few days, you watched as the blood in the fridge started to pile up, and there was no sign of him in the penthouse. Another Thursday came and, this time, there wasn’t even a note to tell you Karen wasn’t coming. You waited, daring to hope, but by mid afternoon you’d given up on ever seeing her again.

Another week passed and you continued on, refusing to give in and give him what he wanted. You kept drawing blood and leaving it for him, content to fill the whole damned fridge just to prove a point. You weren’t going to stop doing your job just because he’d rejected you. It became something of a passive aggressive statement, making sure you wrote the date on the jar in big, bold numbers, even going as far as to start doodling little smiley faces on them.

You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, to wonder where he was or what he was doing for blood. The thought of him having someone else’s blood still turned your stomach and caused a jealousy inside you that you couldn’t quite temper.

But, when your period hit, you found you couldn’t help but miss him. You missed his notes, his little gifts, and the way he’d always be waiting for you. Now you were alone, with nothing but the stupid bear and stuffed beagle for company. It didn’t stop you from drawing blood, didn’t stop you from doing your job, but it was definitely the closest you got to quitting.

Somehow, you made it through, refusing to feel anything when there were thirteen jars of blood in the fridge. It was just your job to provide blood, you told yourself, if Billy chose to waste it, that was on him.

The only problem, you realised, was the cast on your arm; it had been about six weeks, and you hadn’t seen a doctor since. You knew that, eventually, you’d have to use the intercom and ask Lissa about it if Billy didn’t return, otherwise you could be stuck in the cast for the rest of your year there.

At around ten on Friday evening, you finally heard the sound of the elevator and movement in the penthouse.

You pressed your ear to the door separating your rooms from the penthouse, trying to build up the courage to face him, practising what you were going to say while your hand gripped the door handle. But, then you heard something else; a laugh. A woman’s laugh. Your heart sank at all the possibilities, a thousand terrible scenarios playing out in your head.

Wasn’t this what you wanted? For Billy to give up on you and move on?

Yes.

No.

Your chest tightened and it got harder to breathe, your stomach threatening to turn itself inside out. You loved him, but he didn’t love you. That had been painfully clear for weeks now.

He’d found someone else and he’d brought her home. You didn’t know whether to be jealous or worried about what might happen. Would he fuck her? Would he hurt her?

There was only a slight sense of relief when, about twenty minutes later, you heard the elevator again and more voices. Music started playing, like there was a party going on out there - a party that you weren’t invited to.

You moved back to your room, settling on talking to Lissa about your arm and your need to see a doctor, resigning yourself to avoiding Billy for the foreseeable future. You got comfortable and tried to ignore the noise from the party that only seemed to be getting louder and louder as the minute passed.

Less than an hour later, a knock on your door startled you, and you were slow to go and see who it was. Your mind racing over what you might do if it was Billy standing out there, what you might say to him.

“Hey, there you are,” Karen smiled at you, “we were looking for you.”

Matt was at her side, his arm looped with hers, smiling.

“What?” You answered, obviously confused.

“At the party. We were looking for you,” Karen stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why are you hiding in here? Aren’t you feeling well?”

“No, that’s not -” you shook your head, more confused than ever, “- I wasn’t invited.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she told you, not giving you a chance to protest as she grabbed your arm and started to pull you out of your room. “Of course you’re invited.”

“She dragged me here too,” Matt said, barely holding back a smirk. “It’s best not to fight it when she gets like this.”

“No, wait, you don’t understand -” you protested, voice threatening to break.

They both stopped, attention fully on you. For a moment you felt like you might burst into tears. It was overwhelming. You felt suffocated by the situation.

There were so many things you wanted to say, so many thoughts and feelings that had been bottled up inside you over the last few weeks, but when your mouth opened, all you were able to say was; “he doesn’t want me out there.”

“Yeah, well, fuck what Billy wants,” Karen said. “If he has anything to say about it, he can say it to me.”

You relented realising it was futile when she started to pull on you again, leading you out into the penthouse.

The party wasn’t quite what you expected. There was none of the style and propriety of his vampire night party and, instead, it looked more like you’d wandered into a frat party. You glanced around uncomfortably, easily finding Billy in the kitchen with two beautiful women hanging off him and a third looking at him like he was the only other person in the room.

It took a moment or two, but he eventually looked your way. You held his gaze for a split second before his attention returned to his guests, as if you didn’t even exist. As if you didn’t matter. And Karen didn’t miss the exchange.

“Okay, what’s going on?” She asked, finally seeming to understand that something was seriously amiss.

You glanced at Matt who seemed just as interested to hear your answer, even though he didn’t really know all of the details like Karen did. Your cheeks warmed and your gaze dropped.

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid,” you answered with a forced shrug. “We had an argument a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t really seen him since.”

“He’s been avoiding you?” Matt offered.

“He hasn’t even been here,” you answered.

“Wait, what?” Suddenly it was Karen’s turn to act surprised. “If he hasn’t been here, how did he know you were still sick?”

“What? Still sick? I haven’t been sick...”

Karen looked like she’d been hit by a sudden realisation, the smile dropping from her face completely.

“That son of a bitch...”

Before you could even ask, Karen had let go of your arm and had started striding across the penthouse towards Billy, looking angrier than you’d ever seen her.

“I wouldn’t want to be Russo right now,” Matt muttered under his breath.

“I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“He told Karen that you were sick from the stress of everything that’s happened lately, and that the doctor had recommended complete bed rest,” Matt explained. “We were all kinda worried, so when Karen heard he was throwing a party, she thought that meant you were finally feeling better.”

An awkward sound managed to claw its way from you, something so painful that it almost sounded like a sob. He’d deliberately lied to you. Again. He’d gone out of his way to isolate you, and left you feeling unwanted and alone.

When you took a step back, set on returning to your room, Matt’s hand took yours. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

“He made me think no one wanted to see me...” you muttered in little more than a whisper, not expecting Matt to even hear it over the loud music.

You watched from across the room as Karen stopped in front of Billy, quickly clearing away the women who’d been hanging on his every word. He looked annoyed, then just as angry as Karen. Her finger was jabbing at his chest and your heart nearly stopped when Billy took hold of her wrist to force away her hand. There was no telling where Frank had come from, but the moment Billy laid a hand on Karen, he was at her side making sure Billy didn’t repeat the mistake.

And, while you couldn’t hear what was being said, it was very clear that Karen was explaining what Billy had done to you when all eyes looked your way.

You took another step back and felt Matt’s hand squeeze yours, trying to reassure you.

“I should go, I should -”

“You have every right to be here,” he told you, “he has no right to keep you prisoner.”

It didn’t strike you until Matt said it that that was precisely what Billy had been doing. You’d been willing to agree to the idea of not going out alone, but by stopping anyone from taking you out, he was effectively making you a captive.

Billy’s gaze burned into you for a few moments before returning to Frank and Karen, obviously trying to respond and defend himself from whatever criticisms they were levelling at him.

“I need a drink,” you decided, moving towards the library and pulling Matt along with you.

Billy had a small liquor cabinet in there, no doubt for the rare occasion he worked from home and made use of the desk in the library. You picked the bottle that looked the most expensive, and the most full, before grabbing two glasses, filling one for Matt and then filling one for yourself. He took a drink the moment he had his glass and then let out a huff of laughter.

“I always suspected he was hiding the good stuff.”

His little joke almost managed to bring a smile to your lips.

Ordinarily you didn’t drink whiskey. Growing up it had been classified as a man’s drink, and it wasn’t proper for you to drink it. The moment you took your first sip and felt it burn down the back of your throat, you found yourself almost believing it.

“Oh god,” you muttered, “that’s awful.”

Matt laughed fondly before taking another drink, seemingly unaffected by the burn.

“You get used to it,” he shrugged.

“I’m not sure I want to.” Though that didn’t stop you from taking another large gulp from the glass, coughing as it set your throat ablaze.

Matt was quiet for a few moments before he finally asked; “do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and didn’t say a word.

“Did you shake your head?” He asked a few seconds later, and you realised your mistake.

“Oh, Matt, I’m so sorry,” you said, feeling your cheeks start to burn.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he told you, still smiling at you, like he was glad to just be around you. “I think it might help, though - talking about it, I mean. I think you’ve been in here on your own so long that maybe an outside perspective might help you figure things out.”

There was nothing forceful about his comment, nothing that seemed to suggest he’d keep pushing if you said no. And, after a moment of thought, you wondered if maybe he was right.

So, you started to explain.

You used broad strokes, not giving away any part of things that weren’t yours to tell; you told him how alone you’d felt when you’d first arrived, how you and Billy had bonded over literature, and how spending time together had developed into something more physical. You made sure to tell him that you’d always consented, that you’d wanted it and had even agreed to it being something purely physical. Leaving out mentions of his illness and times he’d lost control.

Once you were done, Matt was silent, thoughtfully sipping his drink.

“You fell for him,” he stated softly, and you didn’t have it in you to argue.

“We agreed it wouldn’t be like that,” you sighed. “He doesn’t know, I didn’t tell him. He doesn’t want me here anymore.”

Again, there was silence. You drained your glass and quickly refilled it, before topping up Matt’s glass for him.

“It’s not your fault, you know?” He offered. “Billy keeping you here, keeping you isolated - that’s on him. Especially since he already knows how it affects you.”

“He’s trying to make me quit...”

“Maybe it’s worth considering,” Matt said, shrugging. “Do you really want to keep doing this? Letting him play these mind games with you?”

“It’s... complicated,” you sighed, knowing better than to tell a lawyer about your predicament. “Anyway, it’s not like he could do anything worse...”

“That’s a terrible way of looking at things,” he said with a hint of a smile on his lips that almost had you laughing.

He was right, of course, but the ridiculousness of it all made it funny in an awful sort of way.

Grabbing the bottle again, you decided to take hold of Matt again, telling him that you were going to find Karen and have your own party in your room with Billy’s expensive whiskey, and seemed more than willing to oblige.

You took a deep breath before stepping out into the party. More people had arrived in the half an hour or so you’d been in the library with Matt, and the party seemed to be in full swing. Looking around, you tried to stop Karen, instead finding Billy, surrounded again by his trio of beautiful women.

As they spoke, one leaned into him, pressing her lip to his, and you felt your heart shatter in your chest.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked, feeling your arm involuntarily tighten around his.

“Nothing,” you muttered, your eyes fixed on Billy and the woman kissing him, watching her fingers running through his hair and -

The kiss broke and Billy looked your way, an indiscernible look on his face, and you felt sick.

“Come on,” you told Matt, starting to lead him towards your rooms. “Karen can come find us.”

Matt agreed and you quickly pulled him through the door and closed it behind you, not daring to look back at Billy again.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked once you were both settled on the sofa in your room.

“I’ll be fine,” you lied, betrayed by your own voice.

You knocked back another drink before refilling both of your glasses, content to sit silently. Matt didn’t try to push for conversation. He was just there. Silently supportive while you tried to rationalise what you’d seen.

Billy wasn’t yours. He didn’t want you. It shouldn’t have mattered that he was kissing someone else. But it did, it hurt so fucking much.

Soon enough your glass was empty again and you could feel the effect of the alcohol. It didn’t numb the pain like you’d hoped, in fact, it seemed to be making it worse. But that didn’t stop you from pouring yourself another.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Matt offered gently, placing his hand on your arm.

“Why did you ask me to go to dinner with you?” You asked abruptly, ignoring his suggestion.

“What?”

“The night we met, you asked me to go to dinner with you... or for coffee...”

He’d been so kind that night, keeping you company and making sure you felt included, and you - you’d be so caught up on thoughts of Billy that you’d barely noticed. Matt was alway so kind, so attentive, and all you did was think about Billy when you were around him.

“Because I wanted to take you out,” he shrugged.

“On a date?”

“Well, yeah -”

Before he could finish, you let go of your last scrap of common sense and leaned towards him, surprising him with a kiss. Despite being stunned for a moment, Matt didn’t push you away, instead he indulged the moment, letting you deepen the kiss. You quickly lost yourself to it, trying to hide from your pain by pressing yourself closer to him.

“Are you sure you want -” he said against your lips, only to be cut off by another kiss. And it seemed to be all the answer he needed.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you soon found yourself on your back with Matt on top of you. Your hands slipped beneath his shirt, fingers finding taut muscles as you pulled him closer.

He didn’t kiss like Billy and, when his hands started to explore the curves of your body, you realised that he didn’t touch like Billy either. He didn’t steal your breath away or make you feel like the world could end at any moment.

No matter what he did, or how you tried to lose yourself in the moment, Matt just wasn’t Billy.

Your hips moved, pressing up against his, moaning into the kiss when you felt his erection.

You weren’t being fair but you were too drunk and heartbroken to care. That is, until his hand slipped into your panties beneath your leggings. Your breath caught, threatening to choke you, but it wasn’t enough to make you stop, even though it was Billy’s fingers you were craving between your legs.

Matt wanted you. Billy didn’t. And that was all you wanted to think about.

You just wanted someone to want you.

His fingers circled your clit, drawing gasped breaths from you, while his other hand had slipped beneath your top to grope your breasts. Your body felt like it was on autopilot, responding because that was what it was supposed to do and not because it desperately needed his touch.

Pulling from the kiss, his lips moved to your neck, and even that made you think of Billy and the way his every touch seemed obsessed with any place he could feel your racing heart.

Your eyes closed tight, trying to think of all the reasons you should want this, why Matt was better for you than Billy, but you couldn’t. In theory, Matt was perfect and, more than that, Matt actually wanted you. But Billy, in all his fucked up glory, was the one you loved so desperately and painfully that you couldn’t even allow yourself to indulge in one moment of pleasure without him.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked, no doubt noticing the sudden tension in your body.

“I -” you needed a second, suddenly feeling on the brink of tears at how awful you were being, “- I’m sorry, I-I can’t do this...”

Matt slowly pulled back, and you could feel the shame burning across your cheeks as you righted your clothes. You hated yourself, hated how disgusting the whole thing had made you feel; he’d been so nice and you’d taken advantage of him. You were no better than Billy.

“I’m sorry, I -”

“It’s okay,” he told you, sounding a little breathless but, surprisingly, not upset.

“I just -”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he said, “I get it, you’re going through a lot right now. We both just got caught up in the moment.”

“Why are you being so nice about this?” You asked in a choked up tone, struggling to keep your emotions in check.

“Because you’ve been through a lot lately and I know none of this has been easy for you.”

You didn’t know what you could say to that. There were no words to excuse what you’d done, but there was something you could say to at least explain it.

“He was kissing someone else.” The words tumbled out and, before you could stop yourself, the tears started to fall.

His arm pulled around you as you started to cry, hating yourself for being so weak, for still caring so much after everything Billy put you through. He muttered softly, trying to comfort you, but there was really nothing he could say or do to stop the tears once they started.

At some point Karen appeared, finding you drunk and sobbing in Matt’s arms, and decided to take control of the situation, ushering Matt from the room. She made sure to make you drink a glass of water before putting you to bed and trying to settle you. She sat on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair out of your face - an act that reminded you of your sister and the gaping hole that she had left in your life.

“You’re going to get through this,” she told you softly. “I promise I’m going to be around from now on. He’s not going to pull this shit again.”

As much as you wanted to believe her, you knew that Billy was going to keep trying to get you to leave. You just weren’t sure how much more you could take.

End Note : 😅 I promise that I have a plan, I just need you all to trust in the process. As always thank you so much for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging. Hope you all have a great weekend!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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kayleighwinchester · 2 months

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Five Things You Know About Dean Winchester - and One You Don't: II

(( Here we go, all! The second installment of Five Things You Know About Dean Winchester - and One You Don't! Sickeningly fluffy, for this one! As with most of these so far, much love to @artyandink for suggesting and running the Jensen-a-thon, and thank you so much for all of the love on part 1!)) Dean Winchester was a mystery.

It was one you were slowly unraveling bit by bit, visit by visit; he would climb in your window every month or so, stay a few days, and disappear again by the end of the week – but slowly, you were learning about him, about who he was, beyond the charismatic smile and easy, confident attitude.

You learned quickly how much touch meant to Dean.

It was like he couldn’t get enough of even the simplest contact. You saw it in even the simplest things – how he seemed to melt into every hug, how he leaned into each kiss, treating all contact like he was a man starved.

He’d arrived far earlier than usual this time, coming through your window in the early morning; you didn’t want to know what, exactly, your neighbors had to be thinking when he scaled the tree beside the house to your bedroom window in broad daylight.

You had only woken up about a half an hour before, and had yet to move out of your bed - you were still stretched out like a starfish under the covers, groggy and content, eyes half-following some trashy reality TV show that you, truly, couldn’t care less about. He’d given you that brilliant, million dollar smile of his as he toed his way out of his boots, folded his jacket and placed it in its usual spot on your dresser, and plopped down on the edge of your bed, as if he belonged there.

“Mornin’, Sweetheart.”

You didn’t reply – not at first. No, the first thing you had the energy to do was roll over, arms snaking slowly around his middle, your words muffled by his tee-shirt as you offered a mumbled, “Too early.” into his side. You could feel him shake slightly with silent laughter, his hand running down your back briefly.

“What can I say? Wanted to see my favorite girl. Didn’t even get a motel this time.”

You let out a small noise of acknowledgement, arms tightening around him. It wasn’t a particularly comfortable position to lay in, even you had to admit that, and, a bit reluctantly, you released your grip, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over your face. “Where were you this time?” You asked. Sitting up fully didn’t last long – only long enough for you to stretch, before you were slouching forward again, your forehead pressing against his shoulder.

His voice still held that barely-contained laughter as he spoke once more. “Chicago. ‘Least it wasn’t a bad drive.”

You hummed out another soft little sound, letting your eyes drop closed for a moment longer, before you spoke up. “Did you get breakfast on the way?” The last time you’d looked at your alarm clock, it had been just barely seven – it was a good enough excuse, you supposed, to try to stick to the healthy habits you’d been struggling to keep; breakfast was the most important meal of the day, or something like that.

“Nah. Bit burnt out on McDonald’s, ‘n I didn’t wanna stop for real.” He turned slightly, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

“I can make something.” You offered, finally forcing yourself to sit up once more, quickly turning your face upwards to steal a brief, light kiss. You never got tired of it, the way his eyes sparkled, the way his lips curled up into a smile every time.

“You sure?” He asked, watching you fumble your way out of bed, his eyes lingering on the tiny pajama shorts you wore, before they darted back up to yours. “You don’t have to get up, y’know – I can wait,”

You shook your head. “I’m trying to actually start eating breakfast,” You informed him, “so I was gonna have to get up sooner or later.” You weren’t sure that helped your case much – he still looked a bit guilty, but pushed himself up off of the bed anyway.

He followed you like a shadow, only breaking away once you entered the kitchen; you made a bee-line for the fridge, and he stopped in front of the crappy little coffee maker you’d picked up at a resale shop. It wasn’t the first morning you’d spent together, and there was at least a loose routine to it, though you were typically practically falling asleep at the table as he got the coffee going.

For a time, you worked in companionable silence – once the coffee was started, he leaned his weight against the counter, just following you with his eyes. You’d just started on the pancakes, a pan of bacon on the other burner, eggs on the third, when he moved forward, his arms winding around your waist, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Thank you.” He barely more than mumbled it, his voice giving you the distinct impression that he was far more tired than he’d let on. You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued. “‘N not just for the food.”

He was taller than you – you couldn’t imagine the way he was standing was particularly comfortable for his neck or back – but he nonetheless nuzzled his face into the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt him so relaxed – there was no tension in the way he was standing, his hold around you loose and lazy, his breathing even and his heartbeat steady and calm against your back.

“You better not fall asleep on me,” You warned halfheartedly, though you instinctively leaned your head against his, even if your newfound positions made flipping the pancakes and keeping the bacon from burning a bit more difficult than was strictly necessary.

“Not going to.” He said simply, pressing a lazy kiss beneath your ear, before he straightened up slightly, though his arms didn’t leave your waist, as if he couldn’t bring himself to lose that contact, his thumbs moving in lazy circles on your sides over your sleep shirt.

He finally reluctantly pried himself away when the coffee maker let out a chime – one that was beginning to sound a little old, a little like you’d be needing to invest in a new one soon. As you plated the pancakes, bacon, and eggs, moving them over to the table, he busied himself with the coffee – yours with a generous amount of sugar and flavored creamer, and his black – before he settled into his usual seat beside you at the table, his leg just barely brushing yours.

You’d barely gotten the first pancake onto your plate before he spoke up, the bottle of creamer held in his hand like he fully expected it to bite him. “‘S this any good?” He asked, studying the label intently.

“I mean, I like it.” You offered, continuing to plate up your own breakfast.

A beat, and then, as if he fully expected something – laughter, maybe – he asked, “Mind if I try it?” You glanced up again, startled to find that he genuinely did look a bit like he expected you to say no, or maybe tease him for it.

“Go ahead,” You encouraged.

He studied you for a moment longer, before adding a splash of creamer to his coffee, taking a drink. His expression lightened a bit, but there was a certain forced gruffness to his voice as he offered, “‘S alright, I guess.” You pretended not to notice as he added a bit more. You couldn’t, however, not notice the way his free hand settled on your leg, just above your knee, as he ate, his fingers occasionally gently squeezing – and it was only a few moments before he offered, “Really, Y/N, thanks.” He paused for a moment, before he added, “This’s… Nice.” His expression screamed that there were probably a million other words he could have used, but even that one spoke volumes.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, generally, with neither of you being particularly fond of mornings, and this time was no different; the longer he sat there, the more you could see the exhaustion creeping onto his face, the way his eyes began to gloss over just a little, the way his shoulders slumped. If he really had driven all the way from Chicago, presumably through the night, one cup of coffee wasn’t going to be a miracle cure.

He tailed you like a lost puppy as you cleared the table, and as you gave the dishes a quick rinse off, intending to leave them for later, his arms snaked around your waist once more, his chin resting against the crown of your head. You didn’t have to look up to know his eyes were probably rapidly closing. Still, you’d known him long enough to know his stubborn nature, so you gently offered, “It’s still a little early for me,” A glance at the clock on the stove read just past eight, which certainly was a few hours earlier than you typically tended to get up. “I could use a couple more hours of sleep.”

You could practically feel him sag against you in relief. “I could pro’lly snag a couple hours.” He said – his tone, which attempted to imply that it was a ‘maybe’ and not a ‘definitely’, certainly screamed that he could do with more than just a couple.

This time, his hands never left you fully as he followed you back up the stairs – first his hand resting on your back, then, as you made your way back into your room, his fingers found yours, the contact only breaking for a moment as he fumbled his way out of his jeans, finding a pair of sweats he’d left behind the last time, tucked carefully into the top drawer of your dresser alongside other bits and pieces of clothing he’d forgotten – or maybe left on purpose.

You lifted the covers as he padded back over to the bed, flopping down beside you with a quiet groan that he couldn’t quite muffle – he always treated your bed like it was the most comfortable thing he’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. He rolled over, his arms snaking around you and pulling you close, his lips pressing to your forehead. His breathing had already evened out, soft and slow against your skin.

It was practically instinct, the way your hand moved up to comb through his hair, and you could feel his lips twitch into the faintest sleepy smile, and the words he mumbled against your forehead practically made your heart stop. "Love you, Sweetheart."

(( Tag List? Maybe?: @keanuispunk ))

#supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff

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afewfantasies · 5 days

Text

Lucky Strike 🎯 🎱 - Visions - VI

COMPLETE MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Pairing: Benny Cross (Bikeriders) X Reader

Summary: The reader extends her stay and Benny confronts her with how he's been feeling. They share their visions of forever before being confronted with unwanted visitors. There are fluffy moments and lots of physical touch.

Word count: 3.4K

He could feel himself getting angry standing at your side. He didn’t think it was possible but hearing you call another man sweet things took him there easily. It was gnawing at him again. How little he had to offer a woman like the one you’d become. The little engagement ring riddled in diamonds was something he could never give you. The wind blows and he tries controlling his temper only to hear the phone slam into the receiver and a few coins falling out. Turning to face him your eyes are all lit up as you chew your bubble gum.

“We have two more weeks!” You giggle, taking his hands and hopping up and down with excitement. “Think that’s enough time to teach me to ride a Harley?” You ask as Benny’s energy settles.

“Why do you need to learn how to ride a Harley now?” Benny asks, wrapping his arms around you as he turns you to the parking lot.

“Well, my hobbies are much less thrilling” you pop your gum.

Benny smiles, eager to know more. “What are they?”

“My mother’s hobbies, shopping, reading, painting. Silence is the underlying theme.” You jest.

“I’m sure she won’t like you on a bike, your fiancé either” Benny adds fishing for more info on the man.

“Well that’s what friends are for Benny, you keep my secrets and I’ll keep yours. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. We’re on borrowed time so let’s get going so I don’t miss the picnics festivities” you stomp in good spirits. Benny’s smiling at you already indulging outbursts he shouldn’t.

“What if we blew off the picnic? And just went somewhere just us two?” Benny asks.

“How much money for gas do you have?” You ask handing him a five dollar bill.

“That’ll get us far enough” he comments, pulling out another ten. “This’ll keep us fed”

“What about if it rains or we need a place to stay?” You ask.

“We can figure it out. You trust me don’t you?” He asks and you find yourself smiling.

“With my life” you confess.

“Why are you so sunny today?” Benny asks, trying to get a hold of his own happiness.

“I get to spend seven more days with my best friend in the entire world who doesn’t expect me to wear stuffy proper clothes, or do anything really but be me and exist. To me that’s as exciting as a brand new shiny Harley is to you.” You explain.

“Now I feel special,” he says sarcastically, only it’s the furthest thing from a lie.

“Benjamin, don’t mock me, I'm being sincere.” you laugh shoving him playfully. Benny grabs your arm pulling you in closer as the two of you laugh.

“Y/N, if it was you or a brand new high performance Harley and unlimited gas. I’d choose you” Benny says.

“Oh wow, I am special. For a bike rider that’s practically wedding vows” you gape genuinely surprised.

“You can’t be surprised, you’re my best friend in the world” he asserts. “You grew up nice, I’d marry you too” Benny says cavalier. He shrugs casually and you laugh.

“Now I know you’re pulling my leg, I see the way you look at my clothes. I know what you and the guys think about my fancy style” you tell him to get on the back of his bike and slide back so he can get on.”

His good humour fades into a serious expression “Not pulling your leg. What’s so hard to believe? You don’t love the other guy and he’d marry you” Benny says and you take a breath closing your eyes. You blank when you try to picture your future with Benny married. He smiles amused that you visualise things in adulthood.

“We both have bikes” he says, starting you off.

“Mhm” you nod motioning for him to keep the visuals coming.

“We live someplace simple but near enough to a shopping mall to feed your habit” he says and you laugh.

You nod some more “Keep going…”

“And I work at an auto shop or factory. You bake from time to time to make some money.”

Benny continues and you hold out a hand with your eyes till closed moving it from side to side to tell him that part of the vision is so so.

“When do you have time to ride and meet up with the guys?” You ask, opening your eyes and he shrugs.

“Weekends” he proposes.

“This bike is everything to you Benny. Don’t be so quick to give it up for a life of responsibility. We’ve had enough of that” you tell him disregarding his incomplete satirical vision of the future.

“So what your fiancé has more to offer you?” Benny snaps. “Or is an auto mechanic not good enough” he snaps feeling affronted.

Your brows knit and it takes you a moment to realise it was real for him. You take in enough air to fill your lungs in absolute shock sitting there on his bike. Benny watches as it all comes to you. The revelation hurts, he’d been swimming in confusing feelings for you since he’d laid eyes on you and you hadn't given it a serious thought. He leaves you spinning as he heads in the direction of the outdoor pool to have a smoke and cool off instead of kicking up a fuss.

Swallowing you look at your feet and then to his bike and then you relax as water comes to your eyes. The thought of hurting Benny is too much. You’d locked up your heart long ago. No expectations, no disappointments. When your fiancé came around it seemed perfect. You’d be tethered to each other out of chosen obligation, not something as fickle as love. He promised to care for you and he would. He’d never have to pretend with you and that there was real love enough. Just not the kind most couples hoped for. The world wasn’t yet ready for him to openly love the man of his choosing and so he opted for a wife that understood and accepted him. Your fiancé was a safe space who ensured that you wouldn’t be the only one playing a role while in public within your society. Pretending to be proper and well off when your humble beginnings suggested otherwise. Getting off the bike you make your way to the pool and find Benny sitting on one of the chairs. He’s gorgeous even when he’s upset. You smile, allowing yourself to see him as more. You sit down beside him and he kills his smoke on the concrete before looking at you with a clenched jaw.

“If you get mad so fast this’ll never work. I’ll wear down your nerves and keep your cigarette pack empty” you tease with a smirk. Benny swallows his own, unable to stay upset with you. “I wasn’t implying you don’t have enough to offer. I was making it clear I don’t expect you to sacrifice your happiness for my comfort” you explain.

“It would make me happy to keep you comfortable” Benny mutters.

“You could work for a bit and then we could save up and buy a mobile home. Huck would give us a truck. We could do something that keeps you on a bike as often as possible.

“That would make you happy?” Benny asks.

“We could drive anywhere, see this country and eventually maybe even the world. An extended adventure. That would make me happy.” you confess allowing yourself a dream.

“Not being a mother?” Benny asks.

“I’d like to live a little first so I can settle down and have something to offer a kid.” You explain. Bennys never heard such a thing. He scratches his head. People got married, got a home and worked until they died to provide for their families. That��s how adulthood had been put to him. “Benny, do you want kids?” You ask.

“Not sure, I mean if it happened I’d be okay with it” he shrugs. “A mobile home?” He asks, looking at you.

“Yeah, cheaper than hotels and motels. You can use it like a tent. A boy from my high school got one he drove all the way down to South America. Said it was life changing” you share.

“That’s what you want?” Benny says being the first to ask. You close your eyes again and you can picture it. Being on the road with Benny for hours. Exploring new places. Taking pictures, laughing, talking by campfires.

“Yeah” you nod, opening them to him. He draws in a deep breath.

“I don’t know a lick of Spanish” he mumbles.

“We can figure it out,” you shrug.

He sighs. “Doubt your mother will like that”

“She’ll get over it” you shrug again. “Now let’s go to this picnic and have a good time.” You stand holding out a hand for him. Benny takes it, getting up and pulling you into a warm hug. You were his heart beating outside his body. Something he heard Johnny say about his daughter once. Now he finally knew what it really felt like. He gets on the bike first and you follow suit giving him space as he starts up. The running engine starts the motor and Benny settles back in his seat. Taking your hand from his side he pulls your hand to slide you closer to him so you’re body to body before repositioning your hand on his abdomen.

“Comfortable?” He shouts over the sounds of the bike looking back at you.

“Yeah!” You nod before resting your head on his back. He gives your hand a pat feeling like a new man as you pull off. Your mind runs wild at the possibilities and at the physical contact. You can’t help but wonder where all this has come from. Benny declaring his intentions. He’d always loved you but had it really been more? He’d been in a relationship and you betrothed and there’d been no room in your heart for expectation or disappointment after a lifetime of it one way or another. You’d never really had anyone after you left Benny. Your fiancé had been a friend turned potential life partner and overall good man. In your bid for normalcy you’d decided to adopt and maybe foster a child that came from a situation like yours. You wouldn’t be a mother but a friend, a safe space for the kids and him. It brought you enough peace.

The prospect of being with Benny was different. Exciting, terrifying, riveting. Your return had fed your soul in more ways that anyone could ever know. Love had never been in your vision for yourself. You tried it in high school but what your friends described and what you felt were totally different. Pretty dressed and pretending was all it was. After high school you were in a relationship with a guy your mom thought was great. You tried to let yourself fall but it didn’t happen. He was enamoured but you’d always been lukewarm. Smiling on cue, laughing at his jokes and he was none the wiser parading you around like a trinket. Sex was the nail in the relationship's coffin.

You went to the library at a women’s college the next day. A small penis and premature ejaculation were to blame for that god awful first time, in addition to a lack of skill. As you closed that book on sex you closed your heart and mind to the possibilities of love. Your fiancé came into town a few weeks later. The rest was history.

Benny takes his hand from the handles placing one over yours on his stomach. He’d never felt so full in all his years. Tearing through the Chicago roads his mind is fixed on your vision of the future. He’d never ever thought he could travel. Be free of this city. Be with a woman like the one you’d become. You start to hear a party as the cement turns into gravel and eventually dirt roads. There’s cheering at Bennys arrival. You hug a couple of the guys looking for Johnny’s wife Barb. You watch a couple guys on the grill and run around with the kids playing tag and frisbee. A few hours in, you and Barbara walk up the hill to sit in peace.

“Benny can’t keep his eyes off you” she says perceptively. Looking into your drink you smile and she laughs at your blush. “You’re good for him, he looks relaxed every time he sees you’re having fun” she adds. “Hear you two have been hold up in one hotel room”

“It’s not like that” you smile, knocking your knees against hers. “We’ve never fooled around,” you tell her honestly.

“I believe you, Bennys girls aren’t typically so sane” she jokes. You look at the sunset.

You sigh.“The girls say it’s not easy living a vandal”

“Because they love the vandal when they’re supposed to love the man.” She says.

“I love Johnny. He loves the club so I support that. And god does that man love me. Comes home every night unless he’s driving a long hall and works his ass off. He deserves a little partying and some beer every night. If riding around with his friends and sitting at the clubhouse makes him a vandal, so what?” She shrugs.

“Y’all get down here before it gets dark” Johnny shouts from below. You and Barb hold hands talking it slow. By the time you’re down it’s dark and the guys are tending a fire. The kids are asleep in cars and the party is getting started. You sit beside Benny and he wraps an arm around you.

“Alright?” He checks in.

“Yeah you?”

“Mhm” he nods with eyes on your lips. You feel your heart flutter as he kisses your forehead instead. He’s golden in the hue of the campfire. You look away melting under the heat of being looked at as an object of desire from someone you actually love and admire. It’s an immense pressure. Your heart races and fear wins out, when you remember society’s expectations.

“I’m not a virgin Benny. I know it means a lot to some men so I thought I’d tell you now” you confess looking at him. His eyes hold yours before he smiles a little.

“Neither am I” he shrugs. You hold his gaze relaxing when you see he’s serious and it’s not a point of contention. “What, you thought I'd be upset? You gonna be upset that I’m not either”

“I don't know you could be. You’re a bike rider. I hear how these guys are and I hear you get all the ladies.” You recall.

“I’m not like that. I don’t run through women.” He says. “How about you?”

“It was once and it was terrible but at least it was quick.” You tell him and he frowns.

“Did he have your permission?” He asks with his heart in his stomach.

“Yes but it was … god Benny I’ve never said any of this out loud” you admit feeling bashful.

“It was what?” He asks pulling you in closer.

“Not good, I wanted it to end and him to get off of me and then it was over and he was asking for a few more minutes to make it up and apologising and I was getting dressed to go home.” You confess making Benny chuckle. “Sheesh” he says amused.

“It’s not funny” you say, misunderstanding his laughter.

“No it’s not but it is. Gorgeous as you are poor fool probably got too excited. That’s not how it should be.” Benny says looking down at you. It was a strange thing to be so open with a woman but it was you.

“No?” you ask.

“No,” he affirms.

You sigh not believing him.“I think that’s just for men”

“It’s not ask Barbara,” Benny advises.

“I’m not asking Barbara about her and her husband” you whisper aghast at Bennys suggestion. He chuckles some more and you realise you love to see him smile. “You’re being a terror” you smile getting up and he follows suit, enjoying winding you up now as much as he had as a boy.

“It’s not just enjoyable for men,” he says, pulling you close as you make it to a park bench away from the group. The city is sparkling below as you sit resting your head against his.

“Tired?”

“Mhm” you nod.

“Let’s head back while you can still ride with me” he says standing. You find Johnny and a few others before leaving and riding into the night. Benny parks and you get your keys for the hotel stopping when you see two big guys outside your door. You step back into Benny who steps in front of you.

“Y/N Y/LN?” One of the men says.

“Who’s asking?” Benny snaps.

“You have an outstanding debt. I was gonna collect it’s value from your step mothers house but she told me you could give me cold hard cash” the man says looking around Benny at you.

“I don’t have any, the man is dead, leave us alone” you tell him.

“You deal with me” Benny tells them and he scoffs.

“Fancy hotel like this. You have until tomorrow at midnight to clear the debt or I’ll beat one of the kids. Vandal, you know where to find me.” the man says before walking away. You feel your hands trembling. Benny takes the keys letting you in. You’re a kid again. It’s not the first time. Far from the first time men have showed up to collect.

“Even while dead” you sigh and Benny holds you.

“I’ll take care of it. Must’ve missed one” Benny promises.

“Benny it’s extortion, they’ll keep on now they think I’m well off. I can’t believe she sent them here?!” You snap.

“Y/N relax, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Grab a shower and let’s go to sleep.” Benny suggests but just like that you’re too wired. A ball of nerves. A mix of fear and frustration. You sit on the couch and he follows pulling you onto his lap before cradling you like a child. His eyes assure you it’s handled. “Nothings gonna happen to you” he promises as tears fall. He wipes them away, taking on the role of protector like he had so many times before.

“Benny, I'll just take some things to the pawnshop for the cash. I don’t want trouble” you sigh, not wanting it to be bigger than it needs to be.

“I’ll take care of it,” Benny asserts.

“But B-“

“Shhhhhh, I have the cash. I’ll clear the debt” he asserts. You swallow looking up at him wondering how it was that you were so lucky to have him and then find him again. Sitting up you run your fingers through the low sides of his hair. His eyes watch you intently.

“Thank you” you whisper and he places a kiss on your forehead and the nose.

“You never have to thank me,” he says, not needing it.

“I do Benny, and I love you” you confess. “Like a crazy amount” you say, breathing through your tears.

“I know, and believe me I love you more” he says.

“Impossible” you smile as he wipes your tears away. Taking your chin he brings your lips to his several times kissing them quickly as he tries adding levity to the situation.

“It’s a fact” he asserts.

“Now go shower first” he whispers and you nod, getting up feeling a little better. You cry in the shower feeling as powerless to your father as you did in childhood. You get in bed as Benny heads to the bathroom. You don’t have to ask him to sleep beside you. He does. Getting in the bed pulling you to him and placing his hand under your silk top is resting skin to skin. “I’m here okay?”

“Mhm”

“Forever” he promises and you turn to him.

“Forever” you agree. He’d gone from having nothing to everything in a matter of weeks. He never wanted you to worry again. This time your dad’s choices wouldn’t win. He’d save the day and keep. His hand slides up your back as he holds you and your heart beats sync.

Authour's Note:

Ok, ok, ok, so we're moving along. I know this one moved a little quick but it's longer than the typical update. How do we feel about them unthawing for each other? How do we feel about their vision for the future? How do we feel about that ending? Lets get into it!

Thanks for reading lovelies 🩵🩵🩵

TAGS:

@mrsalwayswrite @ughdontbeboring @astrogrande @palomavz @thesaturngurl @peggyao3 @thefallofthedamned @avidreader73

#austin butler imagine #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #benny cross imagine #benny cross x reader #benny the bikeriders #benny cross #benny #the bikeriders x reader #the bikeriders

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