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sparktober · 3 years

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Sparktober Bingo 2021!

Back for a new generation: Sparktober Bingo!

Instead of coming up with an Atlantis-specific list of prompts, I compiled a bunch of 2021 -tober prompt lists into one google doc here. (Links to original prompt lists are on the google doc.) Add in a list of Atlantis episodes and...

How to play:

Choose a “flavor” from the prompt sets below the cut, then paste it into this fandom bingo card generator.

Adjust your browser size til it looks right and take a screenshot, or use the html script if you’re familiar with using html on tumblr. Tag @sparktober if you want us to reblog it so everyone knows you’re playing!

Sparktober Bingo Rules:

Complete a row/column, corners, or a blackout of your card by November 1, or not! Update as you go.

All fan-works are allowed: art, edits, fic, meta... bonus points to anyone who picks the “sprinkles” flavor and goes full mid-aughts by filling their bingo cards with 100x100 pixel icons.

You are allowed to pull multiple cards until you get one that inspires you, and you can also go through the prompt list of your choice in advance to pull out squicks or things you absolutely won’t write. I recommend not googling unfamiliar words from your work computer.

Use the prompts liberally! Episode titles can be treated as the episode or as generic prompts (e.g. “Epiphany” can be for an episode-related fic or a prompt for an epiphany of your choice).

Flavor descriptions:

VANILLA: Gen prompt lists from Fictober, Inktober, Trektober Gen, and Trektober Trek.

CHOCOLATE: Zesty prompt lists from Trektober NSFW, Kinktober, and Whumptober. The multiple-prompts-per-day from Kinktober and Whumptober have been broken into individual prompts.

CANDY CORN: Fall / holiday themed prompts from TUA-tober.

SPRINKLES: Atlantis episode list (in order, in case you only want to copy certain seasons), along with characters and a few Atlantis-specific prompts.

TWIST: All of the above! (You can also manually mix and match different flavors, of course.)

Text blocks to copy into the bingo card generator are below the cut. Enjoy!!

VANILLA

CHOCOLATE

A/B/O; Soft; Anonymous Sex; Penetration with Object/s; Sleeping; Intercrural Sex; Restraints; In/Under Water; Group Sex; First Time; Possessive Behavior; Dry Humping / Grinding; Overstimulation; Roleplay; Rimming; Stretching / Fisting; Power Imbalance; Food Play; Fingering; Body Worship; Sex Work; Voyeurism / Exhibitionism; Safewords; Technology; Oral Sex; Omorashi / Wetting; Crying; Underwear / Lingerie; Friends with Benefits; Pain Kink; Dirty Talk; Trick or Treat; All trussed up and nowhere to go; Talking is overrated; Sticks and stones may break my bones...; Trust fall; I've got red in my ledger; Touch and go; My spidey-sense is tingling; Coughing up a lung; Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated; Oops, I did it again; Just keep swimming; It'll be fun, they said; That's gonna leave a mark; Under pressure; Feed a cold, starve a fever; On a need-to-know basis; Field care 101; The doctor is in; Just a scratch; Lost & found; That's where the blood's supposed to be; They made me do it; You break it, you buy it; One down, two to go; Hide & Seek; You will go down with this ship; “I'm fine, I prom...”; It's (not) just in your head; All work and no play; Digging your grave; Hurt & Comfort; “You have to let go.”; Garotte; Taunting; “Do you trust me?”; Betrayal; Bruises; Helplessness; Pneumothorax; Presumed Dead; Hospital; Adrift; Torture; “This is gonna suck.”; Crush injuries; Delirium; Recovery; “Please don't move.”; “Now smile for the camera.”; Bitten; Trunk; Bleeding through bandages; Cursed; Auction; Self-induced injuries to escape; Escape; Fallen; Passing out; “Good, you're finally awake.”; “You're still not dead?”; Major character death; Disaster zone; Barbed Wire; Choking; Insults; Taken Hostage; Misunderstanding; Touch Starved; Numbness; Exotic Illness; (Blind) Rage; Flare-Up; Drowning; Made To Watch; Burns; Beaten; Fever Dreams; Scars; Hemorrhage; Doctor Visit; Bleeding; Trapped Under Water; Pressure; Demon; Ransom; Flashback; Flight; Waterfall; Vertigo; Nightmares; Too Weak To Move; Left For Dead; Trauma; Bound; Gagged; “Who Did This To You?”; Pushed; Broken Nose; Hunger; Blindness; “Definitely Just A Cold”; Tears; Ice Chips; Dehydration; Begging; Cauterization; Force; Bees; Aftermath; Dread; Cpr; Stabbing; Solitary Confinement; Blood-Matted Hair; Obsession; Pursuit; Revenge; Hiding; Trap Door; Collapse; Panic; Overworked; Ghosts; Prisoner; Losing Control; Threats; Caning; Mercy; Forgotten; Head Injury; Screaming; Comfort; Self-Sacrifice; Trapped; Near-Death Experience; Regret; Tragedy; Battlefield; Anxiety; Gore; Petplay; Bimbofication; Panties & Lingerie; Bondage; Double Penetration in 2 Holes; Breeding; Humiliation; NTR; Incest; Emeto; Omorashi; Free Use; Crossdressing; Public; Three (or more) some; Daddy & Mommy; Double Penetration in 1 Hole; Distention & Cockbulge; Xenophilia; Shotgunning; Watersports; Pregnancy; Lactation; Waxplay; Grooming; Human Furniture; Feet; Prostituion; MacroMicro; Spanking; Cockwarming; Glory Hole; Somnophilia; Body Modification; Temperature Play; Leather; Size Difference; Sounding; Stockings; Tentacles; Medical Play; Stripping; Orgasm Denial; Master & slave; Scissoring; Titfucking; Frottage; Knifeplay; Formal Wear; Breathplay; Fisting; Pegging; Scat; Beastiality; Fucking Machine; Tickling; Boot Worship; Bukkake; Collaring; Foodplay; Non or dubcon; Feederism; Sensory Deprivation; Oviposition; Clone & Selfcest; Exhibitionism & Voyeurism; Impact Play; Sadomasochism; Bloodplay; Praise Kink; Body Swap; Sweat; Branding; Massage; Role Reversal; Armpit; Masturbation; Inflation; Sex Toys; Burnplay; Menophilia; Stuck in Wall; Deepthroating & Facesitting; Dacryphilia; Hate Sex

CANDY CORN

Birthday; Sick Day; Autumn; Candles; Plaid / Flannel; Leaf Piles; Sweaters; Baking; Cinnamon; Pumpkin Spice Latte; Carnival; Movie Night; Candy; Graveyard; Black Cats; Goosebumps; Pumpkin; Party; Monster; Ghosts; Witch; Vampire; Traditions; Magic; Mask; Haunted House; Trick; Treat; Costume; Monster Mash; Halloween

SPRINKLES

Rising Part 1; Rising Part 2; Hide and Seek; Thirty-Eight Minutes; Suspicion; Childhood's End; Poisoning the Well; Underground; Home; The Storm; The Eye; The Defiant One; Hot Zone; Sanctuary; Before I Sleep; The Brotherhood; Letters from Pegasus; The Gift; The Siege Part 1; The Siege Part 2; The Siege Part 3; The Intruder; Runner; Duet; Condemned; Trinity; Instinct; Conversion; Aurora; The Lost Boys; The Hive; Epiphany; Critical Mass; Grace Under Pressure; The Tower; The Long Goodbye; Coup d'Etat; Michael; Inferno; Allies; No Man's Land; Misbegotten; Irresistible; Sateda; Progeny; The Real World; Common Ground; McKay and Mrs. Miller; Phantoms; The Return Part 1; The Return Part 2; Echoes; Irresponsible; Tao of Rodney; The Game; The Ark; Sunday; Submersion; Vengeance; First Strike; Adrift; Lifeline; Reunion; Doppelganger; Travelers; Tabula Rasa; Missing; The Seer; Miller's Crossing; This Mortal Coil; Be All My Sins Remember'd; Spoils of War; Quarantine; Harmony; Outcast; Trio; Midway; The Kindred Part 1; The Kindred Part 2; The Last Man; Search and Rescue; The Seed; Broken Ties; The Daedalus Variations; Ghost in the Machine; The Shrine; Whispers; The Queen; Tracker; First Contact; The Lost Tribe; Outsiders; Inquisition; The Prodigal; Remnants; Brain Storm; Infection; Identity; Vegas; Enemy at the Gate; Ronon Dex; Teyla Emmagan; John Sheppard; Carson Beckett; Elizabeth Weir; Rodney McKay; Jennifer Keller; Samantha Carter; Aiden Ford; Radek Zelenka; Kate Heightmeyer; Evan Lorne; Laura Cadman; Kolya; Chuck; Peter Grodin; Steven Caldwell; Lantea; Ocean; Ancient(s); Richard Woolsey; Athosians; Daedalus; Wraith; Nanites; Asurans; Genii; DHD; SGC; Stargate; Earth; Antarctica; Ascension

TWIST

“I need you.”; “You have no proof.”; “I’ve waited for this.”; “Fine, I give up.”; “I’m not saying I told you so…”; “Didn’t we already have this conversation?”; “That could have gone better.”; “This is it, isn’t it?”; “There’s no right side to this.”; “It’s so quiet.”; “I swear, it’s not always like this.”; “You keep me safe.”; “The things you make me do…”; “Your information was wrong.”; “I like that in you.”; “Not this again.”; “I’m with you, you know that.”; “This was not part of the plan.”; “I feel strange.”; “That’s what I’m known for.”; “What did I say?”; “No promises.”; “This time, do what I say.”; “Is this supposed to impress me?”; “Do you know what time it is?”; “I’m sure this has never worked, ever.”; “You could have died!”; “I don’t have to explain myself.”; “Why are we whispering?”; “Don’t ruin this.”; “Take me with you.”; Crystal; Suit; Vessel; Knot; Raven; Spirit; Fan; Watch; Pressure; Pick; Sour; Stuck; Roof; Tick; Helmet; Compass; Collide; Moon; Loop; Sprout; Fuzzy; Open; Leak; Extinct; Splat; Connect; Spark; Crispy; Patch; Slither; Risk; Meet-Cute; Amnesia; Age Difference; Pining; Sick Fic; Fake Relationship; Accidental Meeting; Epistolary; Secret Identity; Historical AU; Nightmares; Monster Hunter; A/B/O; Reunion; Soulmates; At Pride; Angst; Seasons; Fix-It; Coffee Shop; Movie Plot AU; Kid Fic; Actor's Other Crossover Work; OT+; Getting Together; Only One Bed; Pirates; Making Up; Forbidden Relationship; Tattoos; Halloween; Prime Directive; Lower Decks / Background Characters; Away Mission; Ship's Bar; Aliens Made Them Do It; Observation Deck; Crew with Family; Holodeck; Science Crew; Character Survives; Headcanons; Diplomacy; Decontamination; Trek Crossover; Replicator; Worldbuilding; Redshirts; Sex / Love Potion; Medical Crew; Transporters; Medbay; Interspecies Relationship; Mirrorverse; Uniforms; Mutiny; Stranded on a Planet; Rec Room; Academy Era; Second Contact; Command Crew; Off-Duty; Soft; Anonymous Sex; Penetration with Object/s; Sleeping; Intercrural Sex; Restraints; In/Under Water; Group Sex; First Time; Possessive Behavior; Dry Humping / Grinding; Overstimulation; Roleplay; Rimming; Stretching / Fisting; Power Imbalance; Food Play; Fingering; Body Worship; Sex Work; Voyeurism / Exhibitionism; Safewords; Technology; Oral Sex; Omorashi / Wetting; Crying; Underwear / Lingerie; Friends with Benefits; Pain Kink; Dirty Talk; Trick or Treat; All trussed up and nowhere to go; Talking is overrated; Sticks and stones may break my bones...; Trust fall; I've got red in my ledger; Touch and go; My spidey-sense is tingling; Coughing up a lung; Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated; Oops, I did it again; Just keep swimming; It'll be fun, they said; That's gonna leave a mark; Under pressure; Feed a cold, starve a fever; On a need-to-know basis; Field care 101; The doctor is in; Just a scratch; Lost & found; That's where the blood's supposed to be; They made me do it; You break it, you buy it; One down, two to go; You will go down with this ship; “I'm fine, I prom...”; It's (not) just in your head; All work and no play; Digging your grave; Hurt & Comfort; “You have to let go.”; Garotte; Taunting; “Do you trust me?”; Betrayal; Bruises; Helplessness; Pneumothorax; Presumed Dead; Hospital; Adrift; Torture; “This is gonna suck.”; Crush injuries; Delirium; Recovery; “Please don't move.”; “Now smile for the camera.”; Bitten; Trunk; Bleeding through bandages; Cursed; Auction; Self-induced injuries to escape; Escape; Fallen; Passing out; “Good, you're finally awake.”; “You're still not dead?”; Major character death; Disaster zone; Barbed Wire; Choking; Insults; Taken Hostage; Misunderstanding; Touch Starved; Numbness; Exotic Illness; (Blind) Rage; Flare-Up; Drowning; Made To Watch; Burns; Beaten; Fever Dreams; Scars; Hemorrhage; Doctor Visit; Bleeding; Trapped Under Water; Demon; Ransom; Flashback; Flight; Waterfall; Vertigo; Too Weak To Move; Left For Dead; Trauma; Bound; Gagged; “Who Did This To You?”; Pushed; Broken Nose; Hunger; Blindness; “Definitely Just A Cold”; Tears; Ice Chips; Dehydration; Begging; Cauterization; Force; Bees; Aftermath; Dread; Cpr; Stabbing; Solitary Confinement; Blood-Matted Hair; Obsession; Pursuit; Revenge; Hiding; Trap Door; Collapse; Panic; Overworked; Ghosts; Prisoner; Losing Control; Threats; Caning; Mercy; Forgotten; Head Injury; Screaming; Comfort; Self-Sacrifice; Trapped; Near-Death Experience; Regret; Tragedy; Battlefield; Anxiety; Gore; Petplay; Bimbofication; Panties & Lingerie; Bondage; Double Penetration in 2 Holes; Breeding; Humiliation; NTR; Incest; Emeto; Omorashi; Free Use; Crossdressing; Public; Three (or more) some; Daddy & Mommy; Double Penetration in 1 Hole; Distention & Cockbulge; Xenophilia; Shotgunning; Watersports; Pregnancy; Lactation; Waxplay; Grooming; Human Furniture; Feet; Prostituion; MacroMicro; Spanking; Cockwarming; Glory Hole; Somnophilia; Body Modification; Temperature Play; Leather; Size Difference; Sounding; Stockings; Tentacles; Medical Play; Stripping; Orgasm Denial; Master & slave; Scissoring; Titfucking; Frottage; Knifeplay; Formal Wear; Breathplay; Fisting; Pegging; Scat; Beastiality; Fucking Machine; Tickling; Boot Worship; Bukkake; Collaring; Foodplay; Non or dubcon; Feederism; Sensory Deprivation; Oviposition; Clone & Selfcest; Exhibitionism & Voyeurism; Impact Play; Sadomasochism; Bloodplay; Praise Kink; Body Swap; Sweat; Branding; Massage; Role Reversal; Armpit; Masturbation; Inflation; Sex Toys; Burnplay; Menophilia; Stuck in Wall; Deepthroating & Facesitting; Dacryphilia; Hate Sex; Birthday; Sick Day; Autumn; Candles; Plaid / Flannel; Leaf Piles; Sweaters; Baking; Cinnamon; Pumpkin Spice Latte; Carnival; Movie Night; Candy; Graveyard; Black Cats; Goosebumps; Pumpkin; Party; Monster; Witch; Vampire; Traditions; Magic; Mask; Haunted House; Trick; Treat; Costume; Monster Mash; Rising Part 1; Rising Part 2; Hide and Seek; Thirty-Eight Minutes; Suspicion; Childhood's End; Poisoning the Well; Underground; Home; The Storm; The Eye; The Defiant One; Hot Zone; Sanctuary; Before I Sleep; The Brotherhood; Letters from Pegasus; The Gift; The Siege Part 1; The Siege Part 2; The Siege Part 3; The Intruder; Runner; Duet; Condemned; Trinity; Instinct; Conversion; Aurora; The Lost Boys; The Hive; Epiphany; Critical Mass; Grace Under Pressure; The Tower; The Long Goodbye; Coup d'Etat; Michael; Inferno; Allies; No Man's Land; Misbegotten; Irresistible; Sateda; Progeny; The Real World; Common Ground; McKay and Mrs. Miller; Phantoms; The Return Part 1; The Return Part 2; Echoes; Irresponsible; Tao of Rodney; The Game; The Ark; Sunday; Submersion; Vengeance; First Strike; Lifeline; Doppelganger; Travelers; Tabula Rasa; Missing; The Seer; Miller's Crossing; This Mortal Coil; Be All My Sins Remember'd; Spoils of War; Quarantine; Harmony; Outcast; Trio; Midway; The Kindred Part 1; The Kindred Part 2; The Last Man; Search and Rescue; The Seed; Broken Ties; The Daedalus Variations; Ghost in the Machine; The Shrine; Whispers; The Queen; Tracker; First Contact; The Lost Tribe; Outsiders; Inquisition; The Prodigal; Remnants; Brain Storm; Infection; Identity; Vegas; Enemy at the Gate; Ronon Dex; Teyla Emmagan; John Sheppard; Carson Beckett; Elizabeth Weir; Rodney McKay; Jennifer Keller; Samantha Carter; Aiden Ford; Radek Zelenka; Kate Heightmeyer; Evan Lorne; Laura Cadman; Kolya; Chuck; Peter Grodin; Steven Caldwell; Lantea; Ocean; Ancient(s); Richard Woolsey; Athosians; Daedalus; Wraith; Nanites; Asurans; Genii; DHD; SGC; Stargate; Earth; Antarctica; Ascension

#sparktober is coming #sparktober #sparktober bingo

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hawkland · 3 years

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(Mostly) Destiel Fic Recs #5

This is a LONG recs post because it’s been a while since I did an update and I fell hard into reading one author’s work (DeanRH). In fact I could easily do a rec post just of their fics alone, but for this round I’m just going to pick out a handful of my absolute favorites so far, the ones I’d recommend to start out with, along with more other authors’ works I’ve especially enjoyed lately.

Absolution at the Five-and-Dime by DeanRH (125k) - this is perhaps THEE DeanRH fic to start with if you want a good, long read with a little bit of everything (Roadtrips! Intriguing casefic! Americana! Tasty Dean/Cas pining! Wing!kink and unique angel lore! Kinky soul fisting and tentacles!) It’s kind of two of parallel stories in one: the first, a flashback to Dean and Sam's first year hunting on their own (as well as trying to avoid hunting, and John in general); the second on how Dean and Cas finally get together during an unusual case and when Dean is able to really let go of his past trauma and accept himself/accept love from Cas.

What I love about DeanRH’s work is that they write from the unique point of view of a drifter, so they understand living on the road, traveling place to place, and the highs and lows of that life like no others I’ve encountered in SPN before. (The author’s notes are often as much fun to read as the stories themselves). They also write a kickass angel!Cas and never lose sight of his non-human traits and background. Their writing style is unique - almost poetic in nature, and I know some readers have found it difficult to get into. But it works really well for me in their SPN fic...gives it the flavor of oral story telling as might actually happen at a drifter’s camp (with one story written exactly as such). Be warned this particular fic does play up the idea of John Winchester being mentally abusive and Dean having to turn tricks when he was younger in order to support him and Sam, so there is some dark stuff. But as someone who grew up with mentally abusive parent, reading this was extremely cathartic to me and believably written (unlike some stories that go too over the top with abusive John, or just don't understand how that kind of abuse leaves lifetime psychological scars.)

The rest of this round’s recs below the cut.

Carnevale by DeanRH (18k) - Actually the first fic by this author I read, because I just couldn’t resist a story set in my favorite place in the world, Venice, Italy. Castiel is the Angel of Venice, banished there for so long he does not even know or remember the reasons why. But Carnevale season is the one time a year he can let his wings out - figuratively and literally. And during this particular Carnevale season, he meets an intriguing masked young American tourist there with his brother and their one night stand turns into something far more powerful than either expected. This one’s hot, romantic, and achingly sad at the end as it all ties together unexpectedly with canon-verse...though with a hint for the future so it’s definitely not totally sad. I loved how DeanRH clearly understands Venice as a fellow lover of the city, the side of it most tourists never see unless they spend a long time there. This story made me cry just from wanting to be back in Venice again.

Ice cream was sweeter, food more satisfying, everything was an epicurean delight. There was just something magical about Venice, and he had lived here in the city for hundreds of years, so the shine should have worn off by now.

But it didn't, and there was always something more, something wonderful to discover around the next corner. The painted eaves of a church. The beauty of two women dancing with flowers in their teeth across the Piazza San Marco one day, overcome by the sheer joy of just being there. The way the university students still created Venetian masks, like Castiel's extravagant volto mask and Dean's humble servetta muta, with crafts that had been handed down across the generations. The morning silence that lay against the stones.

Hard Landing by DeanRH (26.9k) - A bit similar in theme to Carnevale. A pre-series Dean and Sam are sight-seeing in Spain when an angel, struck by a babel-spell, crash lands right in front of Dean. A strange yet seriously hot encounter with the angel turns into something much more complicated when the brothers return home and realize something more serious is afoot and they are both trapped in the middle of it. This is another story where things are very much not as they seem at first (as fun as that is!) It features master strategist Cas at his best, with a side helping of delightful trickery care of Gabriel and Balthazar as they deal with Lucifer, Michael...and a few others along the way.

The Sacred Band of Thebes by DeanRH (14.5k) - The last DeanRH fic I’m gonna allow myself to include in this round up, because it’s just very soft and sweet and beautiful - for a story about Dean & Cas being magically transported back in time to ancient Sparta! This is another story infused with a great knowledge of place and history, with some wonderfully delightful original characters added in that make it all the more enjoyable to read.

And now on to some other authors, I promise!

IPAMIS OL OLPRIT by emmbrancsxx0 (56k). A really wonderful fic that take a different look at what might have happened with a temporarily resurrected John Winchester during Season 14. Dean & Cas are in an established relationship here, and John here isn’t too happy about it — though mostly because he sees Cas (and Jack) as monsters, the kind of monsters he spent his lifetime hunting. This is a great fic for the emotional complexity of how John, Dean and Cas are all handled. John isn’t a cardboard evil dad, Dean is struggling between his loyalty to his father and to Cas, and Cas is increasingly bitchy/frustrated at Dean still being so desperate for his father’s approval (and all the more complex for not just being a quietly suffering perfect supporting boyfriend.) There’s some great action sequences in this too along with the emotional angst and a delicious dose of hurt!Cas if that’s your thing (as it is for me :D)

Abrenuntio by Neonbat (51k). A very dark but compelling AU take on the/a apocalypse universe. Dean, Sam and John are all alive in this post-angel war-apocalyptic world. They are part of a group of human survivors fighting against the angel army when they manage to capture “Blue” — a particularly feared angel of death. Dean is tasked with bringing Blue in for interrogation and he becomes a prisoner in their camp after John is killed. As mentioned, this is a pretty dark/sad fic (with some rather gruesome torture scenes) but I still found it quite compelling as a look at how things could have gone in some other parallel universe. And somehow the author manages to make the Dean/Cas relationship come together despite them starting out as complete enemies. This is one of those AUs that works for me because the core of the characters really shine through despite the differences in the setting.

if it all fell to pieces tomorrow by spocklee (37k) - a gorgeous post-Empty rescue fic that takes an approach I haven’t really seen explored in detail before (despite being something I’ve actually thought about as something that could’ve happened.) What if Cas has spent so long denying himself happiness, and then trapped in regrets and false-rescue scenarios created by the Empty, that he can’t trust that his rescue is real? And so he runs off to be on his own - literally stealing the Impala because he can’t handle being in Dean’s presence one moment longer - and only slowly comes to terms with the idea that it’s over now and he can be happy with/around his friends and family. This one’s both deliciously angsty and at times funny/sweet, looking at Cas’s relationships not just with Dean but with Sam, Jack, Claire, even Eileen. It does some fun stuff with other returned angels and demons who now find themselves back on Earth (and human), and...I just really enjoyed this one a lot.

Both Saved and Lost by angelfishofthelord (13.7k) Gen Cas character study, absolutely gorgeous and sad and one of those fic I couldn’t stop thinking about the day after reading it. AU where Apocaverse!Cas isn’t immediately killed by our Cas during 13x22 but instead hitches a ride back to the main ‘verse. Dean and Sam want to keep him alive for information on Michael; Cas is torn and trying to figure out just how similar—or different—they really are. Some great angel stuff here (I also highly recommend this author’s Jack & Cas “dadstiel” fics, they’re equally lovely and heartbreaking at the same time.)

flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k) - THEE “What exactly did Dean eat in Purgatory, anyway?” fic you’ve probably already heard about. *cough* I’ve been trying to work up the courage to read this one for a while and finally gave in and OH MY CHUCK I’m so glad I did. It’s perversely disturbing and beautiful at the same time, Cas is wonderfully DERANGED and ALIEN in that way that I love it when fics managed to convey just how much angels are NOT human. Do heed the tags.

Full of Grace by ilovehowyouletmefall (11k) - Another one for the weird-as-fuck-angel!Cas lovers’ list. Heaven/canon-compliant fic where Dean knows he should feel happy and at peace but he just...isn’t, even with Cas and all of his friends and family there. He finally goes looking for Cas when he’s been absent for a time and, for the first time, gets to not just see but experience his true form. Another one that hits some kinks I knew I had and others I didn’t...until now. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

don't ask me where i've been by saltwound / @1x06 (8k) - I can never resist a good 09x06 fiction gap fic! What makes this one really stand out is how well it captures Cas’s internal voice - his struggles adapting to human senses, limitations and emotions versus what/how he experienced things as an angel. The longing and feelings between Dean & Cas here are so achingly beautiful and I just wanted to cry when Cas says he misses hearing Dean’s prayers, so Dean, he...oh, I’m not going to spoil it. *happy sigh* Just read it.

this room is wrong by DarkHeartInTheSky (12k) - Sometimes I like torturing myself with some good 15x03 divorce arc angst and this fic hit that button just so. It’s an alternative take on where Cas might have ended up after leaving the bunker and features some great Cas & Sam friendship feels, when Sam sets out to try to bring Cas home. It’s all the stuff you’d wish the writers would’ve let them talk out in canon.

Well that’s more than enough for this round! Go forth, read and give some great writers some kudos & comment love!

#fic recs #my fic recs #destiel recs #destiel #deancas recs #my destiel recs

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fowl-fox · 3 years

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I know I keep asking you all these random questions, but- in AF, it always irked me that we never learned about Fowl Sr.’s return to Fowl Manor, given that he was recovering from being in a coma (I know his amputation sight would have been healed by then, but I don’t think he would have been strong enough to walk on a prosthetic for a while- he probably used crutches for a bit). Like... what was that like for the Fowls. I know that the books never go into it, but I would have hoped that it was a brief period of the Fowl Family being just... happy to be together again, even as they were having to dramatically restructure their lives again to adjust to the head of the family being home again, especially for Tim and Angeline. Any thoughts or headcanons or what-not?

Ask as many questions as you like! (That goes for anyone else as well.) It gets my brain going and motivates me to start writing things. Also sorry this took a bit, I've got medical crap going on rn.

As usual, I'm gonna toss this under a Read More, because boy, did this get long, I apologize. And I'm going to warn you, a lot of this delves into how I feel about Artemis' relationship with Tim and Angeline overall. But it's those feelings that drive most of my headcanons, so I feel like it's best to talk about them.

Let's start with Artemis Sr. and his state of being after rescue. I'm gonna pull some quotes from my copies of The Arctic Incident and The Eternity Code throughout my pondering, please bear with me.

At the beginning of TAI, we're given a laundry list of ailments Fowl Sr. has when he's dragged out of the water in the beginning of the book:

"Though the man's clothes were relatively intact, his body had not fared so well. His bare hands were mottled with frostbite. One leg had been snapped below the knee, and his face was a horrific mask of burns."

"He'll lose that leg for sure, (...) A couple of fingers, too. That face doesn't look too good either."

When it's Holly's turn to drag Fowl Sr. out of the water, his heartbeat is dangerously low, due to deadly cold water. We know she kept him alive, healed the chest wound caused by the blunt force of the shell Butler shot him with, as well as a blinded eye that wasn't mentioned previously, but we're not really told anything else, which I suppose leaves it up to our imaginations as to what ailments he's left with.

We know he lost his leg, but did he lose some of those frostbitten fingers? Frostbite doesn't fuck around (Mayo Clinic link, if you'd like), and while it's not mentioned, it would be likely his captors would have had to amputate a few of those as well, to prevent the dead tissue from eventually killing their meal ticket. His face was severely burned from the explosion, how extensive was the scaring after everything was said and done? We know magic can heal scars if that's what the magic is told to do, but Holly probably wasn't worried about that in the moment, and she makes this statement:

"I got him," she gasped, "One live Mud Man. He's not pretty, but he's breathing."

So even with Holly doing what she could, it sounds like Fowl Sr.'s condition was still really rough. Rough enough to need prolonged medical attention. He'd spent nearly two years in a coma before waking up in Murmansk, and the ordeal of his rescue was enough to throw him back into a coma, as we're told in The Eternity Code.

Except wait a minute. In Artemis Jr.'s diary excerpt, we're given some information that contradicts the previous book.

"It had been over two months since Holly Short used her healing magic on his battered body, and still he lay in his Helsinki hospital bed. Immobile, unresponsive.

The doctor's could not understand it. He should be awake, they informed me. His brain waves are strong, exceptionally so. And his heart beats like a horse. It is incredible, this man should be at death's door, yet he has the muscle tone of a twenty-year old.

(…) Holly's magic has overhauled his entire being, with the exception of his left leg, (...) He has received an infusion of life, in body and mind."

(...) my father had no need of medical attention. He simply sat up, rubbed his eyes, and muttered one word: 'Angeline.'"

So now Holly's magic apparently healed everything but the lost leg? What?

I love the Artemis Fowl books, but I will always be a little frustrated with their inconsistencies. But you know what? It's great for giving yourself permission to play around with your headcanons. If Colfer changes what he wants when he wants, I certainly won't feel bad about doing it.

I'm going to go with the TAI and say that Tim was still in a really rough state after everything. Ignoring that supposedly his muscles were fine, he'd still have to learn how to walk on the prosthetic. And tbh, I'm just going to believe that his muscles weren't magically perfect. Maybe easier to build back than they would have been without the magical infusion, but there was definitely gonna be work involved. And that's ignoring probable mental trauma. He was in a coma for a large portion of his captivity, but there was a brief period of time where he was conscious, with captors that maybe couldn't kill him, but definitely didn't treat him well (though it sounds like he was being a difficult captive, but yeah, of course, he's a Fowl lol.)

(Detour Thought: My mental picture of Artemis Senior has always involved heavy facial scarring, especially on the side of his face where the damage was apparently bad enough to blind him.)

But to get back to your original inquiry (Jesus, Blue, I am so sorry at how badly I've dragged this out) I do like to think there would be a period of recovery and restructure that would involve the Fowls getting to be a happy family together. Great potential for a hurt/comfort fic, if you ask me.

I'm going to be frank, (and this opinion puts me at odds with the fandom at large, I know) - from my interpretations of the books overall, while Artemis certainly had a strict upbringing with parents who were usually busy and definitely irresponsible, I never got the sense that it was a loveless childhood. Nor did I ever get the sense that Artemis feared his father as a person, but rather that he feared disappointing him, which at no point are we told ever actually happened. I've read these books a million times, I've never found anything in them suggesting Artemis ever disappointed his father, nor that Tim was ever actually cruel to Artemis. Strict, yes. Overly formal? Definitely. But not cruel.

Now, the fact that he felt he had to jump through so many hoops to maintain his father's approval? Bad parenting, Tim. Also, don't encourage him to be a criminal mastermind, maybe. But also Artemis is an over-achiever by nature, which Tim just either didn't clue in on or more likely imo, thought it was in Artemis' best interests as an heir of a criminal empire to be that way.

Aside from Tim and Angeline later suggesting he try to be more 'normal' and let go of his criminal tendencies, and that one incident of Angeline pulling a guilt trip (all of which is a whole other thing I won't get into rn), Artemis' parents speak positively to and about him. I just honestly think they don't know how to be actual parents, which, being aristocrats, tracks. They function almost more like older siblings after TAI, really, which isn't exactly great, but it could be worse.

We know his father used to read to him regularly when he was little (ending with a kiss on the head, which I always thought was sweet) and we know that Angeline was always warm and available to him whenever possible (until her grief-stricken dementia set in.) Artemis has a moment of angst at how strict/formal his upbringing was compared to the twins, but overall he generally speaks positively of his parents, and he loved and missed them enough to risk his life several times for them. Even when he's frustrated by their joined presence making it harder for him to conduct criminal activities, he still misses them and thinks about them often when he's away from them.

Which yeah, that's what this all boils down to for me. Artemis just wants time with both of his parents, and Artemis Sr.'s recovery, in my headcannon, would absolutely allow for that time he so desperately wanted, deep down. Assisting in the physical recovery, using the down time to really talk and catch up (without mentioning his fairy adventures, of course.) It would be a drastic change and awkward to adjust to initially, but overall I think it would be good.

And as for Tim and Angeline? I think there would be of course the joy of being reunited with the love of your life, because Tim and Angeline are absolutely soul-mates. But I also imagine there were many, many conversations of regrets and questioning how to move forward as a family from this point. Angeline seems to defer to Tim as the one who makes decisions for the family as a whole, but she isn’t afraid to give her input. I bet they were scared, in a way, because not only has everything changed, but the future is uncertain. They have to restructure their whole life, and while overall the changes are positive, they’re not going to be easy.

I also feel like it would be difficult for Angeline in particular because while Tim returning is a joyful thing, she now probably has some self doubts. Why did she fall apart so tremendously, at the expense of not only her well being, but her son’s? While she isn’t the best parent, I imagine Angeline will always carry heartache about her time in the attic and how she forgot her own son. And to an extent I bet Tim does too, because it was his disappearance that triggered it.

And now I want to write a fic about all of this, which I guess I'll add to my pile of ideas I've been playing around with.

–

I'd definitely like to hear more thoughts on the matter from you if you have them!

#fowldom #artemis fowl #fowl senior #angeline #this is long #but i've put a lot of thought into this even before being asked #so here you go #headcanons

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Blank Slate

Summary: After losing her memories of her life with her family, the reader has to try and piece together what exactly happened to her with her husband’s help...

Pairing: Actor!Dean x reader

Word Count: 9,500ish

Warnings, language, angst, head injury, minor violence

______

“Hi mom,” said a five year old girl at the front door, the man next to you giving you a smile.

“Hi, uh, Harper,” you said.

“Harper’s my sister,” she said with a frown, glancing at the man.

“Oh, uh, hi...” you said, looking at the man for help.

“Holland. We call her Holly,” he said.

“Hi Holly,” you said, giving her a smile, watching a careful one cross onto her face.

“Mom’s head is still hurt?” she asked. The man nodded, telling the girl to go play as you caught sight of a few more adults in the house, older looking than the man by your side. He kicked off his boots and helped you with yours, letting you look around the foyer. You wandered over to a wedding picture, tilting your head at it.

“You remember anything?” he asked. You shook your head, a white framed letter hanging beside the photo you started to read. “I wrote that for you as a wedding present.”

“It’s very sweet,” you said when you finished, looking back at the picture, turning to look at him. “I can’t even remember my husband’s name without looking at a piece of paper. Or my wedding day or the names of my kids.”

“I know. I know. The doctor said this is all trauma based so your brain is all okay. We just have to get you to access those memories again. That’s why you came home from the hospital, so we could try to get them out here. Do you remember that?” he asked.

“Dr. Henderson said that yesterday,” you said, the man giving you a smile.

“Yes. He did. Your short term memory is getting better. I know you don’t see it honey but it is,” he said. “We’ll get you there. I promise.”

“What’s your name again?” you asked.

“Dean,” he said softly. “Sometimes you call me Dean or Winchester or De or dork or honey or babe or Deanie Weanie if you want to tease me or...you’ve got a lot of nicknames for me actually.”

“Dean,” you said with a nod. “Dean...”

“Winchester,” he said with a smile. “That’s your last name too.”

“It used to be Y/L/N,” you said, Dean nodding. “I remember old stuff. This must be really annoying for you.”

“Nah. I get to remind you why we fell in love all over again. What’s so bad about that?” he teased, kissing your cheek. You liked it, not sure why but then his lips were pulled away and he was holding your hand, moving you along to the back of the house. You entered a kitchen area, spotting three kids playing in a family room, two other adults talking at the counter. “Hey guys.”

“Hi sweetie,” said the woman, walking over and giving you a hug. The man did the same as you took a moment to see a few similarities between them and Dean.

“You’re his parents,” you said, Dean smiling wide. “Don and Molly?”

“John and Mary but close,” she said.

“You remembered that on your own,” said Dean.

“Your perfume sort of...reminded me of a cozy house on a rainy day, it smelled like vanilla inside I think,” you said.

“It was raining the first time I took you to my parents house,” said Dean. “I told you coming home would be good for you.”

“So what are you guys doing here?” you asked.

“We’ve just been helping out with the kids,” said your father in law, his smile falling away when you frowned. “It’s really no trouble.”

“Where are my parents?” you asked. You saw your in laws look at Dean, his gaze going to the floor. “I remember my parents.”

“I can’t keep doing this to her,” said Dean quietly , looking at his dad. “I can’t.”

“They died,” said John, Dean squeezing his eyes shut. “A while ago, honey. You were at college when they were in a car accident.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking a few times. “I didn’t know Dean back then, did I.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Dean, lifting his head. “This isn’t your normal reaction to that news.”

“How many times have you told me this?” you asked.

“About ten or so. About once a day you ask,” he said. You stared at him, that happy mask slipping slightly. “Normally you get upset. Really, really upset.”

“How did I hurt my head? Or have this trauma thing happen to me that’s making me forget?” you asked.

“I can’t answer that, sweetheart,” said Dean.

“Why not?” you asked.

“The doctors don’t one hundred percent know,” he said.

“You’re saying I went insane or something? Why not lock me up then?” you said, not sure where your anger was coming from. Dean scowled at you, grabbing your hand and asking for a moment of privacy. He pulled you upstairs and to a bedroom, sitting you down before he knelt in front of you.

“All we know that happened was it was a Friday morning. You were perfectly fine when I buckled up the kids for daycare and to drop them off at school and stop at the winery quick. We have one of those by the way. You were alone for a few hours, taking some time to relax, do a few things around here. When I got homelater on, you were sitting in the middle of the floor just completely out of it. After you woke up at the hospital, you couldn’t remember anything. We were doing a few renovations on the house so the security system was down for a few weeks and that’s around when all of this happened. You just locked up on us, honey. You wouldn’t tell us what happened and then we realized just how bad your head got hurt. Nothing was stolen and the police are still working on it but we just don’t know what happened to you,” he said.

“Did I give the bruises on my arms to myself? Could I have just fallen down and hit my head?” you asked, holding them up.

“It’s possible but I don’t believe that, not with how scared my badass wife was,” he said. “I think someone came here and hurt you.”

“You think someone hurt me?” you asked. “Do you think it was Ricky?”

“Ricky?" asked Dean. “Your college boyfriend? I know you guys had a bad breakup but didn’t he turn out to be like a pediatrician?”

“Well my brain is weird right now and to be honest, you’re a stranger to me,” you said. “I don’t even remember you. I don’t remember any of these people in this house.”

“Do you want them to leave? I can ask my parents to take the kids,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You grabbed his wrist and brought his palm to your cheek, moving his fingers.

“Do that again,” you said.

“Why? Remember something?” asked Dean, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“No. It makes me feel okay even though I am definitely not,” you said.

“The stuff I told you didn’t scare you?” he asked.

“It scared me. But everything is scary right now. I remember from school that if your memory doesn’t come back soon after an accident, it probably won’t, not all the way,” you said. Dean looked down at his feet, shoulders sagging. “It’s okay.”

“I have more scary news if you think you can handle it,” he said.

“Like I said, it can’t get much worse,” you said.

“What is the absolutely last thing you remember? Not me or a hospital but before that,” he said.

“I was in a car with my parents,” you said.

“That was the accident with your family, this memory thing...it’s mental right now. It’s not physical. The memories are there but your brain sort of froze up, using that other traumatic event as a stopping point,” he said.

“So I’m the one preventing me from remembering?” you asked.

“Yeah but it’s not that simple. You had a trauma and no one knows exactly what happened. Until you can process it, you’re in a bit of limbo for now,” he said.

“So I’m nuts,” you said, an angry glare crossing his face. He sat back on his heels and put his hands on your legs, lifting his head up.

“Please stop saying that. You’re hurt, not nuts,” he said.

“I have brain trauma that’s all likely mental from what you said. I think I’m nuts,” you said.

“I was the one that told you to take the morning off, enjoy yourself. I’m the reason you were here alone,” he said.

“It’s not your fault I went full on Cuckoo's Nest,” you said.

“You were attacked. You are not crazy and I’m sick of having this argument,” he said.

“How many times have we…” you said.

“This is the fourth time. Normally you don’t get this far in the conversation before you ask to be left alone. The whole you not remembering these conversations is the reason they say it was mental trauma,” he said.

“What’d you do different this time?” you asked. “I’m not going to ask you to leave me alone.”

“I don’t know. You’re home for the first time, some place familiar. Maybe you feel safer here, maybe less, maybe it’s because it’s Thursday. I don’t have a clue, Y/N,” he said.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” you said.

“Me either,” he said.

“Tell me about you, or us, or our family,” you said.

“You want to know how we met?” he asked.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

“Hey, kiddo,” said your father in law a few hours later. The kids were in bed and most everyone was asleep apart from the two of you and Dean who was off somewhere else in the big house. “How you holding up?”

“Okay,” you said, flipping through a wedding album, trying to put names to faces. “Thank you for watching the kids.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said. He was quiet as you flipped through the rest of the book. You looked happy and completely in love with the man in the photos. You wished you could remember it though. “You got that look on your face.”

“Hm?” you asked.

“You’re thinking hard about something,” he said.

“I’m trying to figure out my life,” you said.

“I’m a hell of a lot older than you and I haven’t figured it out yet,” he said.

“It’s been almost two weeks Dean said. I barely remember any of that,” you said.

“S’alright,” he said. You stared at him, getting a smile in return. “Do you want to know the first time he introduced you to us?”

“Sure. Earlier he said it was raining, right?” you asked.

“I think so. It was a few weeks before thanksgiving. He wanted to make sure you got to meet us first before the whole family,” he said. “You weren’t the first girl he ever brought home but it was different than the few before. He liked those girls but they were too different to ever work. You were quiet but friendly, kept trying to help out in the kitchen or with dishes. More than a bit nervous. You two kept looking at each other, like you were asking him if you were acting okay.”

“That’s normal,” you said.

“Yeah. It was still a little awkward and then I asked a question about your family or something like that and Dean got very defensive. I remembered he’d asked us not to bring that up but I was trying to get you to open up. You snapped at him a little, told him it was alright even though you clearly weren’t comfortable with talking about it. We sort of left you two kids alone for a minute before he walked into the kitchen. I was expecting an apology but he was still angry and wanted to understand why I’d done it. We’d never seen him like that before and realized it’d really upset him. He was afraid that you wouldn’t like us because of it and he went off on a tail spin when I caught you standing in the doorway and you just looked at me with this smile like you knew he’d calm down in a minute,” he said.

“Did he?” you asked.

“Yeah. He left after a moment to go find you and you snuck in and apologized for him. I told you not to do that and that he was an adult and could do it himself. You told us very calmly that you disagreed. I thought that was an odd thing for you to say and you just stared, with that same look on your face, thinking hard of how to say what you wanted to,” he said.

“What did I say?” you asked.

“Dean came back and sighed, apologizing and trying to get everyone past the whole thing. But you were more guarded with your answers and questions after that. You excused yourself to the bathroom and he said you two were going to get going. You’d only been over for two hours but things were going south and we know our boy. Sometimes he just shuts everything out when he’s stressed and wants to get out of the situation. We were going to let him go but you came back and saw him getting ready to leave and pulled him aside. I don’t know what you said but he was more relaxed when he came back, said he was mistaken about the time or something like that. Total bull but he was just better again. No one had ever gotten through to him before when he gets like that, no one. But you did. You kept trying to be relaxed for us and him after that and later on you tried to explain that he got protective of you, like it wasn’t obvious.

“That’s when you told me this was important to him, to you as well, but very much so to him because there was no meeting the parents for him. There was no meeting the family. He really wanted us to like each other because he wanted you to have something you’d lost and missed. And all you were concerned about was that we weren’t mad at our son because you thought that’s what was important. You wanted us all to have a good relationship because you thought he was important. It hit me that you didn’t care about getting close to anyone past a surface level. Then it hit me that despite all that, you were still trying, for him. He got close and I guessed you didn’t want to like him or fall in love with him or any of it. But you did, and you tried, because when you love someone like that, you try for them,” he said.

“I have a feeling we’re close despite our first interaction,” you said.

“By the time thanksgiving rolled around it was like you were another one of the kids. You warmed up to us real fast,” he said.

“So were you trying to say that I shouldn’t worry because I have a good husband looking out for me?” you said.

“I was simply saying how we met. Up to you to look at it like that,” he said with a smile.

“”You’re definitely that guy’s dad,” you said. He laughed and stood up from his chair.

“Yes, I am and alright eavesdropper, I’m heading to bed. You should probably get this one in one soon too,” he said, glancing at a doorway, Dean rounding it with crossed arms.

“How do you always know?” he asked.

“You’re my kid, that’s how,” he said, ruffling Dean’s head as he went past. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you said. Dean gave you a soft smile. “Tired?”

“Everyone had a long day. We should get some sleep,” he said.

You followed him upstairs, Dean showing you your closet to change in, banging a few things around in the bathroom before you walked out and caught him in a tee and boxers.

“I turned up the thermostat since you like it warm,” he said. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

“We don’t sleep in the same room?” you asked. He gave a quiet laugh before offering a smile.

“I’m not making you sleep next to me when you don’t know me,” he said. “We got a comfy couch I can crash on.”

“Thanks,” you said. “For trying to not scare me.”

“Of course, honey,” he said.

“But the point of me coming home was to get me back in my routine and I think we should sleep in the same bed,” you said.

“If that’s what you want. Feel free to kick me out anytime though,” he said. You waited by the end of the bed, Dean next to you. Both nightstands were fairly empty at the moment and you couldn’t tell from that who had what side. He seemed to stare at you, waiting to see if you’d remember.

“I sleep left but...I think you like the left too so you get that side and…I got something for it,” you said.

“You got to pick out our dog at the shelter,” he said. “You remembered that just now.”

“It was more a gut feeling than memory,” you said.

“It was still something,” he said. You shrugged and crawled into bed, Dean sliding under the covers after a moment but keeping his space in the king sized thing. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you said, turning onto your side.

“Love you,” he said quietly, more for himself than you. You looked over your shoulder, his back to you. You reached a hand out and rested it on top of his head, slowly moving your fingers through the strands. His muscles relaxed, a large breath leaving him.

“I don’t know you but I’m glad I have you to help me,” you said.

“S’been a long two weeks,” he said quietly. “I’m scared you’ll wake up tomorrow and have forgotten again.”

“I’m not,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Just got a good feeling I won’t,” you said. He rolled over onto his back, smiling softly at you. “I love you.”

“You don’t have to say it, Y/N,” he said.

“Just because I can’t remember that I do doesn’t mean it’s not true,” you said.

“Alright, you win this one, Winchester,” he said. “Night.”

“Night, Dean.”

“Morning,” said Dean, walking out of the bathroom in a t shirt and pair of comfy looking sweats. “I figured a lazy day at home would be best to ease into things.”

“Yeah. I think so too, Dean,” you said, scratching your head with a sleepy smile. “I remember yesterday so no need to freak out on me.”

“I will let you get ready for the day then,” he said, watching you move out of bed and back to the closet, pulling out some clothes after a few helpful nods to the right drawers to go to. He let you take care of yourself mostly, lingering in the bedroom only if you truly couldn’t find something you wanted before he eventually left.

After a hot shower, you changed and headed down the stairs, a small child nearly tripping you as she ran past in the kitchen.

“Holly! No running!” said Dean, the little girl immediately freezing. “We got to be careful of mom, remember?”

“Sorry,” she said, turning around and walking over to you. She seemed hesitant but you bent down and gave her a hug, a smile instantly across her face. “I made my bed and helped daddy make the pancake batter.”

“You did? You’re such a big girl helping out like that,” you said, picking her up and carrying her over to the counter, quickly finding her far heavier than you were expecting. She stared at you for a moment before looking at her father.

“Daddy says you can’t remember us because your head got hurt,” she said.

“That’s right,” you said, taking a seat next to her, Dean watching the pair of you from the other side of the island where he worked. “I know I love you very much though.”

“But you’re gonna remember, right?” she asked. “You’ll get better?”

“Holly,” said Dean quietly. “We talked about this. Multiple times.”

“But-”

“Holly. I need you to be a big girl for me, okay? For me and mom,” he said. “Mommy’s going to try to remember but if she doesn’t, that’s okay too.”

“Okay,” she said, looking at her placemat. “Can I have orange juice?”

“Sure,” you said, getting out of your seat, pausing when you couldn’t find a fridge.

“Right here, hun,” said Dean, slapping a cabinet. You pulled on the handle and realized it was a double door fridge with a freezer on bottom.

“Are we rich?” you asked, Dean smirking as you found the orange juice. “What do you do for a living? What do I do for a living?”

“Well at the moment, you’re a stay at home mom and you run the winery with me and my brother,” said Dean.

“We must make like super awesome wine,” you said, looking at the cabinets, Dean nodding towards one and you found glasses inside.

“Daddy plays pretend on TV,” said Holly.

“An actor?” you said, shaking your head. “You are so not an actor.”

“I so am an actor,” he teased, sliding a few pancakes onto a few plates. “You little missy, wrote for that TV show until we had the second round of kids and it was too much to juggle everything. You occasionally do some editing now that the winery is going good but mainly keeping care of the rugrats is your main job.”

“Speaking of which, I have other children I...I don’t remember them,” you said quietly.

“Grandpa and Grandma took the twins to swimmies,” said Holly, squeezing a big puddle of syrup on her pancakes.

“Oh. Do you know how to swim?” you asked, Holly nodding.

“Harper and the little dude are young but even with the pool and the fence around it, we figured better safe than sorry,” said Dean.

“Little dude,” you said, knowing he was trying to get you to remember. “We have three kids?”

“Yup,” said Dean, motioning for you to sit down, Holly already chowing down on her first piece as you sat next to her. You grabbed your fork and knife, taking a few deep breaths. “His name is Axel.”

“I don’t remember anything,” you said, gripping the utensils tight until Dean rested a hand on your thigh. “I don’t remember.”

“Mom,” said Holly, poking your shoulder. You looked away from Dean, a curious little face looking up at you. “S’okay. I still love you.”

“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever met,” you said, giving her a hug, Dean rubbing his hand up and down your back as you ate breakfast together. Holly was very well behaved and you had a feeling she was used to helping out in the kitchen, working with Dean and showing you where things went as you picked up.

“Can I go play in my room?” she asked, Dean humming before she took off.

“Wow. She’s mature for her age,” you said.

“Sometimes,” said Dean with a knowing smile, just in time for the door from the garage to open. You recognized John and Mary, walking in with two small kids. The kids both stared at you for a moment before they ran over and hugged your legs, both trying to pepper you with kisses. “Mommy’s home, guys.”

“Mommy, I miss you,” said the girl, Harper. The boy echoed a similar sentiment, his vocabulary not quite there yet but he was hugging you so tight it may have rivaled his father’s.

“Mommy,” said Axel, wrapping his arms around your neck, attempting to climb on top of you.

“I missed you guys too,” you said, picking them both up and giving them each a kiss. “How was swim class?”

Axel went off on a tangent, most of which you didn’t understand but Harper interpreted what he was saying, something about a big splash and soon Dean was over, scooping Harper out of your arms.

“Alright. I think you two are due for a bath to get that stinky chlorine off you and we’ll give grandma and grandpa some time to themselves for a change,” said Dean.

“It’s the first full day back, Dean,” said Mary, giving you a smile.

“I know and you’re not on babysitting duty today. Go hang out at home. If I need you, I’ll call,” he said.

“Call anyways,” said John. “We’ll see you guys real soon.”

“Later,” said Dean as they headed out, carrying Harper over to the stairs. You followed with Axel, same green eyes as Dean, your son staring happily at you.

“I love you, mommy,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said, kissing his cheek, pausing at the top of the stairs. Dean turned around, looking at you.

“Y/N? You alright?” he asked.

“I got one of those feelings again,” you said, walking again.

“What kind of feelings?” he asked.

“I love these kids so freaking much,” you said, Dean laughing.

“Well that’s good,” he teased, stopping outside of a door, pushing it open. You followed him inside to a bathroom, playful colored towels and kids shampoos in the tub area. “This is the bathroom for the kids. Holly has a bathroom in her own room but we decided to wait until she’s a little older to have her own.”

“Alright,” you said, Dean setting Harper down on the floor. He went over to the tub and put in a stopper, starting to fill it up as he tugged off her clothes. You mimicked what he was doing with Axel, Dean laughing when you had trouble getting his shorts off.

“To think I’m the one that’s always been awful at this,” he said, helping you get them off. He peeled off Harper’s diaper, tossing it in the trash, doing the same with Axel’s. He tested the water with his hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot before he lifted him up and set him in the water, up to his little waist, doing the same with Harper. He put a few little rubber toys in the water to distract them. “Okay, mom. Normally we wash hair first then soap up.”

He reached around you and grabbed some kid friendly shampoo, squirting some in your hands. He did the same and worked on Harper’s hair, nodding for you to clean up Axel. You were paranoid about getting it in his eyes with how much he turned his head around, Dean sighing and grabbing your wrists, moving them a little lower. He shook off his hands in the water and grabbed a pair of little bowls, handing one to you.

“Just watch me, Y/N. It’s super easy,” he said. He filled it with water and put his hand on Harper’s forehead, he head tilting back with a little giggle as he gently poured the water out. You started to do the same with Axel, Dean smiling when you kept pausing to make sure it wouldn’t splash all over his face. “We’ve both gotten soap in their eyes before. It’s not the end of the world if it happens.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said, Dean taking the bowl away after a moment, squirting some soap in your hands.

“Neither one of us has known what we were doing from the second we found out you were pregnant with Holly. You get used to it,” he said, rubbing some of the soap on Harper’s chest, playing with one of her boats with her for a moment. You again tried to do the same with Axel, big wide eyes staring at you. “He’s a goof and knows he’s gonna get bubbles all over him so prepare for him to turn into a giggling mess.”

You barely had started to soap him up before you heard the first laugh, Harper joining in as you cleaned him, Dean wearing a big smile as their giggles got louder and louder. You hadn’t realized you were laughing with them until Dean was moving the stopper out of the way and plucking them both out of the tub and wrapping them up in big towels.

“They are so cute,” you said, Dean smiling while he ran a towel through their hair.

“They get it from you,” he said, the two of you working to dry them off before Dean slipped out of the room, returning with two sets of clothes. He grabbed something from under the sink, handing one to you. A diaper.

“I don’t-”

“I know,” he said softly. “Putting it on is real easy and once somebody makes a mess, I’ll show you how to clean it up too. Both these guys are pretty well behaved in that department.”

Dean took extra time to show you how it was done, letting you do Axel with his help, both of you getting them into some clothes.

“Okay, dudes. You’ve had a long morning so time for a little nap,” said Dean, picking them both up, getting a round of giggles as he carried them across the hall and into their shared bedroom. He set them each down in their cribs and gave them both a blanket and stuffed animal, the pair of them passed out before he could leave the room. “We’ll wake ‘em up in about twenty minutes. They need naps after swim days or else they get very cranky by the time lunch rolls around.”

“I need a parenting guidebook,” you said. “Or a drink.”

“We got both but probably not a good idea just yet,” he teased, heading back down stairs with you, plopping down on the couch. You sat next to him, Dean smiling at you. “You look tired, sweetheart.”

“My head feels like it’s going a thousand miles an hour straight into a brick wall. I keep trying to remember things, like giving baths, but I just can’t,” you said.

“You’ll get there,” he said.

“Will I though?” you asked.

“If you don’t, we’ll still be here for you,” said Dean, smiling softly at you.

“What do I normally do when I’m not feeling great?” you asked.

“Cuddles. A blanket,” he said. You nodded and grabbed one from a nearby basket, sitting down closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” you asked.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, moving his arm around the back of your shoulders. “Is that-”

“It’s okay,” you said, glancing up at him. “If it’s ever not, I’ll let you know but you don’t have to ask all the time, Dean.”

“Alright,” he said.

“This is something we normally do, right?” you asked.

“Sit and cuddle each other? Yeah. Even your manly husband likes a good cuddle,” he said, a laugh in his words.

“Oh,” you said.

“Oh, what?” he asked.

“You seem very sweet is all, not like you’re a tough tough guy. I mean you seem tough but not mean. I’m sorry that doesn’t-“

“It’s okay,” he said. “You just have a well rounded husband.”

“That sounds nice,” you said.

“It is. It’s a bit of a lie,” he said, smiling sadly at you. “I get wrapped up in my own head sometimes. Take this whole situation for instance. Normally, you’d be the one telling me it wasn’t my fault and a whole bunch of other stuff to help me realize that. But you can’t do those things right now, which is totally okay, but I have to try and be that person on my own and it’s fucking hard.”

“Well I don’t blame you,” you said.

“You don’t know what happened,” he said.

“No but I don’t blame you,” you said.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to really think straight,” he said.

“Well I don’t think you’re in the position to tell me how I feel,” you said, sitting up to get a better look at him. “I look at you and I worry and I do not understand why. All I can guess is that it comes from a place of love. Maybe I don’t remember how to tell if you’re feeling crappy or whatever but a part of me does and it needs you to be better too. I know this is hard and you basically wound up with another kid to watch and make sure I’m okay but we’ll get through this.”

“But what if-“ he said before you put a finger to his lips.

“Relax,” you said, Dean slumping back into his seat.

“I’m supposed to take care of you. Not the other way around,” he said.

“I’m guessing that we normally take care of each other and trying to get me normal again means we act normal which means I take care of you too,” you said, leaning back against his shoulder. “I have the feeling you haven’t let anyone take care of you the past few weeks.”

“Even when you go all beautiful mind, you still know the right thing to say,” he said, brushing his finger over your cheek.

“Did you insult me while we’re having a moment?” you deadpanned.

“Now you sound just like you,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. You got a headache and sat back into the cushions, wiping at your nose. “Y/N? You okay?”

“My nose,” you said, tapping the end of it. “It was wet. I remember it was wet!”

“That...okay,” he said, forcing a smile. “I suppose that’s...helpful.”

“Why would my nose have been wet?” you asked. He cupped your cheek and smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “What?”

“You take a shower every morning. You’re probably just remembering that, honey,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. He kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest but you were pretty sure it was more for him than you. “Dean, I’m alright.”

“Someone hurt you,” he said. “And I have no idea who did it. I couldn’t protect you the first time around and I have no idea if I can do it if this person comes back.”

“But you’re really big and strong,” you said. “And who knows? Maybe I fell and am just nuts or something.”

“Y/N. I know being nice to yourself isn’t always easy but can you please stop calling yourself nuts. Something traumatizing happened that caused this. You aren’t nuts. You got scared because something horrible happened, I’m sure of it. Please don’t say that again. I hate it,” he said. You turned your head and gave him a small nod. “Thank you.”

“You need to let someone take care of you too though, got it? I can’t remember, it doesn’t mean I’m useless,” you said.

“Okay,” he said softly. You reached a hand up to his hair and rubbed his head, Dean nuzzling into the touch. “We got a doctor’s appointment to get you to soon.”

“That sounds not fun,” you said. He chuckled as you gave him a head massage, resting it on your shoulder for a moment.

You still didn’t really know him or who he was. But you could feel something towards him, very much like the reaction you had with the kids.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked. He nodded and you leaned over, pressing your lips to his. Dean didn’t move and you shifted back after a moment. You tilted your head at him, doing it again once more before you sat back in your seat. “That is so weird.”

“What is?” he asked.

“I am in love with you. Unconditionally. I barely know a thing about you but I know that much,” you said.

“Even if it never comes back, we got this, alright?” he said.

“Yeah. Can you show me around the house some?” you asked. He smiled and grabbed your hand.

“I’d love to, honey.”

“I don’t like it here,” you mumbled, kicking your legs against the bed in the doctor’s office. Dean hummed from the chair in the room, giving you a smile when he glanced away from his phone. “I want to go home.”

“The doctor just has to give us the test results and then we’ll go. Want to grab some food on the way home?” he asked.

“Okay. I still don’t like it here,” you said, rubbing your bare arm.

“I don’t like it here either,” he said, leaning back in his seat. The door opened and he stood up, the doctor giving him a friendly smile.

“Dean, Y/N. Sorry about the wait,” he said, holding up a file. “So...we did a blood test when you first got in. Dean, if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside a moment?”

“Why,” he asked.

“Because I asked. It’ll only be a moment,” he said. Dean glanced at you but you nodded and he left, the doctor shutting the door. “Y/N, we saw something a little odd in the blood work.”

“Odd?” you asked.

“Traces of a drug. Most people know it by its street name. Roofies,” he said.

“Someone gave me roofies?” you said.

“Well, no but it’s very similar. It didn’t show up on any tests before because we weren’t looking for it,” he said.

“Why’d you decide to look for it?” you asked.

“Because something seems off about this whole situation which is why I asked Dean to leave the room,” he said.

“You think my husband drugged me?”

“I don’t know who did what. All I can say for certain is that there is a four hour time period in which you could have been drugged. It would explain the memory loss of that event. The rest...it’s likely a combination of the drugs and self-regression,” he said.

“So I’ll never remember?”

“I’m not sure you’ll ever remember the event. But everything before that, I think you can. I think whatever happened you didn’t want to deal with it so you shut it all away. Your physical injuries weren’t life threatening so that leads me to believe it was environmental, something that was said or threatened. I think, because of the reaction you had, it had to have been done by someone close to you, someone you trust,” he said. “Who that is, you and the police have to figure out but that’s my medical opinion on what happened.”

“Dean wouldn’t hurt me,” you said.

“Y/N.”

“He wouldn’t,” you said. “Now let him back in.”

“I know the cops think I did it,” he said, rubbing his temple at a red light. “Why wouldn’t they suspect me? I make sense on paper.”

“I don’t think you did it,” you said.

“Thanks,” he laughed, hitting the gas when it turned green. “No one is really going to listen to you at the moment though, sweetheart.”

“Well we’ll figure it out then,” you said.

“How do you trust me so easily?”

“Because I still feel good and safe with you. If you hurt me, I don’t think that’d be the case,” you said.

“You might not remember if I’d hurt you though,” he said.

“Do you want me to believe it was you or something?” you asked.

“No. But I don’t want you to be so trusting of people,” he said. You stared at him as he drove, Dean resting his head in his hand. “What do you want to eat, honey?”

“You pick what you want,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sighing as he made a left towards a to go place. He parked and moved to get out of the car but you grabbed his hand, Dean staring back at you.

“I won’t be so trusting of people. But I’m going to trust you, okay?” you said.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“Hey, Dean,” you said, finding him in the home office after lunch, going over some bills from the look of it. “How come I haven’t met Sam? Well...seen Sam?”

“He’s kind of doing both your jobs right now and hospitals make him...ah, Jess. I forgot. You wouldn’t know. So our sister-in-law, Jess, she almost died in a fire once. It was a really bad night for Sam. When everything went down with you, he volunteered to deal with the kids and stuff so he wouldn’t have to go back. It sounds shitty but the guy is freaking terrified of hospitals. We can invite those guys over for dinner if you want,” said Dean.

“I was just…” you trailed off, Dean lifting his head.

“You think it was Sammy,” he said.

“I didn’t say-“

“I’ve been thinking it too unfortunately,” sighed Dean. He ran his hands over his face and you shut the office door, taking a seat on the comfy chair. “He’s been reluctant to see you and I haven’t spoken to Jess in weeks.”

“Do you think something happened to her?” you asked.

“Jess? No. Sammy would kill for her. He’d never…” said Dean. “Oh shit. I think I know what’s going on.”

“What’s going on?”

“Sam,” said Dean at one end of the conference table in the police station. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Dean,” said a police officer, holding up a hand. “Let’s try to be calm.”

“He tried to kidnap my wife!” said Dean.

“But I didn’t,” said Sam. “I’m risking Jessica’s life just saying this. I am lucky she’s even still alive.”

“Oh so it’s my fault you nearly killed my wife?”

“I was never gonna kill her! Even drugged up...” said Sam. “Then I just...came to my senses and left.”

“Well thanks for traumatizing her!” growled Dean.

“Guys! Both of you just shut up and let the cop talk,” you said.

“Thank you,” said the officer. “Now, Sam. You were saying after you decided not to follow through on abducting Y/N, you returned home?”

“Yes. I thought she was gonna be okay and left. Then I got a call from Dean asking to pick up the kids later from school because Y/N was having a hard time remembering. He said someone must have come in and attacked her and I am so sorry, Y/N.”

“You don’t talk to her,” said Dean.

“I think I can decide who does and doesn’t talk to me, Dean,” you said. “Keep going.”

“He-“

“Sam,” you said, cutting Dean off. “Talk.”

“So...I didn’t do what I was supposed to obviously but I was offered another chance to get Y/N and bring her to this person. Trade for Jess,” he said. “I’ve been buying a little time and said Y/N got hurt and it would be impossible to get her and...I was gonna say something. I just…” said Sam, closing his eyes. “I got scared.”

“I can’t…” said Dean standing up and grabbing your hand. You shook out of it, Dean staring at you. “I’m not leaving you in a room alone with him.”

“First off, there’s a cop literally right there. Second, if he wanted me, I’d be gone. You need to go cool off. Go. Now,” you said. Dean shook his head and walked out, the officer staring at you. “What?”

“Your brother-in-law did admit to trying to-”

“I’m not pressing any charges against him,” you said, Sam turning his head towards you. “Shocking, I know. But Dean’s pissed enough for the both of us right now and I know...you could have hurt me if you wanted to. But you didn’t and Jess still needs help so right now, let’s just work on that, alright?”

“Thank you,” said Sam, giving you a half smile.

“Alright,” said the officer with a deep breath. “Do you have any idea who this person is that took your wife?”

“I think it’s a woman to be honest,” said Sam.

“Why would you say that?”

“When she let me talk to Jess she was using one of those voice things to make her voice deeper but she moved it away to put Jess on and she told Jess to talk and it was definitely a chick,” said Sam.

“You’re saying a woman took Jessica and is the one that wanted Y/N?” he said.

“Wait, my husband is kind of famous, isn’t he? TV famous but still…” you said, the officer nodding his head.

“Let’s go see if the other Mr. Winchester is calm enough to join the discussion again.”

“Bonnie Tyler,” said the lead detective on the case, slapping down a file a few hours later. “Your stalker from six years ago.”

“She wasn’t a stalker,” said Dean. “Just...an overzealous fan.”

“Bonnie Tyler put in her notice at work shortly before Jessica disappeared. She has also started, according to her credit card statements, frequenting the winery. Are we staring to get the picture?” asked the detective.

“But if she took Jess, why wouldn’t she ask for Dean instead? Isn’t that who she wants?” asked Sam.

“Oh I’m sure of it. But Jess most likely hasn’t seen her face if Bonnie’s willing to risk running into her again,” said the detective.

“Running into her where?” said Dean.

“Most likely the winery where I suspect her plan was to introduce herself to the newly single Dean Winchester,” he said. “If Y/N were to go missing that is.”

“What,” said Dean.

“She targeted the girls so that she could, likely, attempt to swoop in and become romantically involved. It’s probably not good news for whatever she had planned for Y/N,” he said.

“Oh. Awesome,” you said.

“Jess was taken because of you,” said Sam, cocking his head at Dean.

“You think I don’t know that?” said Dean, putting a hand on his head. “Can’t you guys just go to this psycho's house and arrest her?”

“We risk a chance of losing Jessica if we do that,” said the detective. Sam dropped his head, Dean glancing across the table at his brother.

“I am sorry, Sam. I am. It doesn’t excuse what you did,” said Dean.

“Well, I’m gonna have to live a dead wife most likely so thanks for adding onto the already giant pile of shit I feel like,” said Sam.

“I said it doesn’t excuse it, dumbass. I didn’t say I don’t forgive you,” said Dean. Sam lifted his head up, Dean giving him a nod. “I’ve been plenty scared the past few weeks too so I get that helpless feeling. I do. But we gotta be on the same team.”

“I’ll do whatever they want me to,” said Sam.

“Me too,” you said, both of them turning to you. “I can’t remember but not helpless, remember?”

“There’s a ploy here,” said the detective, looking at you and then Sam. “But I want to see that Y/N’s mentally fit before we even consider it.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this,” said Dean, tucking your hair behind your ear a few hours later.

“She’s our family...and Sam made a mistake, a mistake you very easily could have made if you were in his place,” you said.

“I know. I don’t...if I’m being honest with myself, I’d have considered it. It’s impossible not to,” he said.

“So you don’t hate Sam?” you asked.

“No. He didn’t know that would happen with you. No one did,” he said.

“I’m sort of hoping I get another kind of shock and it all comes back,” you said.

“Well, it’s not everyday you get to play victim in a police operation,” he said, rubbing up and down your arms. “If things go bad and this bitch gets near you, you put her down. I ain’t raising three kids by myself.”

“I’ll be okay, Dean,” you said.

“Be careful,” he said, kissing your temple as Sam walked over. “If worse comes to worse-”

“I got her back,” said Sam. “Jess is gonna kick my ass for everything so you’ll have to get in line behind her.”

“If worse comes to worse, both of you don’t be idiots, alright?” said Dean. You nodded and Sam gave Dean a small one.

“You two ready to go?” asked the detective as he came over.

“As we’ll ever be.”

You weren’t entirely surprised when things stopped following the plan and you and Sam were left to wing it. Jess looked relatively okay and aside from a look at Sam like she was pissed, the actual swap went okay.

The you getting in a car part with Bonnie definitely wasn’t happening though.

“But I don’t understand,” you said, trying to play the idiot. “I don’t even know these people!”

“Listen, I know you’re even more of an idiot now than you were then but you got to go,” said Bonnie.

“I don’t even know who those guys are! I don’t remember anything!” you said. She shoved you against the car door, cocking her head. “Please. I don’t care what your problem with these people is, just let me go.”

“I can’t,” she said.

“If I did something to you, I’m sorry. I don’t remember,” you said.

“It’s not personal, alright? You’re just in the way,” she said.

“Tell me how to get out of it and I’ll move,” you said.

“Sorry. You’re too recognizable and they won’t stop looking until you’re gone,” she said, pulling out a knife. “Get in the car, Y/N.”

“Can I at least-“ you said before you kicked out with your leg and proceeded to head butt her. She groaned and you kicked out again, slipping out of the loose zip ties finally.

She clocked you in the face and your head spun but you managed to hit the knife out of her hands.

“A little help over here!” you shouted, blocking a hit, surprised at yourself for doing so. She tried to go low but you stopped that one too. “Guess who’s got muscle memory back.”

“Guess who can shut up,” she said, pulling out a second knife from her back pocket. You glanced your eyes just over her shoulder, Bonnie spinning around long enough for you to get the drop on her.

“Bonnie, just stop,” you said, kicking away the knives. She took the opportunity to push back and slam you against the car, breaking free and shoving you again, your head hitting the back door.

You woke up with a headache but you felt intact. Dean was yawning as he watched TV, a stuffed animal shoved next to you.

“Hey,” you said, Dean turning towards you, immediately waking up some as he moved his chair around. “Dean Winchester, born January 24th, grew up in Lawrence, Kansas and who hid hiccups at our wedding.”

“I’m glad to know you’re still going to tease the shit out of me over that,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I kinda remember being halfway decent in that fight earlier,” you said.

“Well you are pretty good, if you could have remembered the moves,” he said.

“Should have got her in the stomach,” you said, closing your eyes. “I’ll take the fact I’m not dead as a good sign?”

“Yeah. They grabbed her. Jess is okay, a few doors down actually. She nearly strangled Sam and then strangled me and let’s say Bonnie should be living in fear from Jess’ wrath,” laughed Dean.

“How’s Sam?” you asked.

“Oh, wallowing in self-guilt when he’s not doting on Jess. You know, typical, Sammy behavior,” he said with a smirk.

“I can remember more of what happened, with Sam,” you said.

“Sammy not giving us the full picture?” asked Dean.

“He didn’t scare me. Not really. In fact, it was no one’s fault at all,” you said. “Remember what I said about a wet nose?”

“Yeah?” asked Dean.

“I was in the bathroom, getting ready for the day and Sam came over. We had coffee for a minute which is probably when he drugged me but then he had this really guilty look on his face. He kept trying to get me not to drink it too, steal it back. So he was over and while we were fighting over the coffee, I spilled some. So I went and put on a new shirt and tossed the other one in the laundry basket. That’s when I saw in the bathroom, the floor was all wet. The sink was leaking again. I called in Sam and he was trying to help fix it and he did a good job. I felt a little funny so I got off balance, slipped in the water and bam, hit my head against the tile floor. Sam tried to catch me. That’s why I had bruises on my arms. He left to get help and in my dumbass state, must have wandered into the bedroom and by then, you were getting home and I think Sam just freaked and left since you were there.”

“You slipped in some water,” said Dean.

“Yup,” you said.

“Why would Sammy say…” said Dean. “Cause the little idiot thinks it was his fault anyways. If it’s anyone’s fault-“

“It’s Bonnie’s. Not anyone else’s,” you said. “I’ll talk to Sam and remind him of what really happened.”

“I feel kind of bad about plotting his murder for like five minutes back at the police station now,” he said.

“I appreciate the thought, De,” you said, pulling the stuffed dog from your side. “Was Axel here?”

“No. He and Harper both wanted mommy to have their favorite toys to get better,” he said. You glanced at the bag on a table across the room. “Yes, Harper’s creepy ass doll is in there. I didn’t want to scar you further.”

“You’re a good husband,” you said, sinking back into the bed. “It is so weird to be able to remember everything again.”

“It’s so nice to have you back again,” he said, sitting up on the edge of the bed, pulling you to lean against him. “Although I have a feeling you would have fell for me all over again if we had to go that route.”

“In your dreams, Winchester,” you teased.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” he said.

“So am I, Dean. So am I.”

_______

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #au #actor!dean x reader

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actuallybarb · 3 years

Text

The Aftermath ~ Part 6

Summary: y/n does nothing to discourage morgan stark from swearing, senior year officially starts, and y/n never considered herself stiles but when peter is lydia she’s alright with it

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, y/n fixing everyone’s problems, trauma

Word Count: 3023

A/N: shit shit shit i love it i’m here for it i shamelessly stole it from Teen Wolf

///////////

I stayed at the compound that weekend, working with FRIDAY and Pepper to get the rest of the footage salvaged and try to clear Spider-Man’s name.

“‘Morning, FRIDAY,” I yawned out as I slipped back into the desk chair in the lab Friday morning. “Any progress on the footage from EDITH?”

“We got footage from the bridge, but it doesn’t look too good for Peter.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Show me.”

I sipped Sokovian tea (Wanda was a genius with tea leaves) as I played the footage over and over again. “Of course it doesn’t look good for Peter, it’s his face.” Peter’s face was telling EDITH to stop all of the drones. But the whole point was so Spider-Man wouldn’t get charged with murder, not proving his true identity. “Well shit.”

“Shit.” I turned in my chair and saw Morgan Stark at the door, a proud grin on her face.

Pepper had brought Morgan by last weekend and she and I had become fast friends. After nearly losing her mind over where her daughter was, Pepper found Morgan happily chasing mini tornadoes I made in the training room. After that, she would ask FRIDAY for periodic updates, but mostly Morgan and I got to run free around the compound.

I pointed a finger at her. “I refuse to be blamed for your foul mouth, got it?” She nodded then ran over and climbed onto my lap, looking at the videos.

“Peter?”

“Yup. And that’s the problem.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Because in this moment we needed him to have his mask on.”

“But he doesn’t.”

“Now you see the problem.”

“Why can’t we just put his mask on him?”

“Because, Young Stark, that would be considered tampering, and would completely nullify the evidence in a courtroom.”

“So Peter’s stuck being Peter?”

“Peter’s stuck being Peter.”

“Shit.”

“Shit is right.” I looked at her sternly. “No swearing in front of Pepper, got it?” I stuck out my pinky and she wrapped her tiny one around it, squeezing hard. “Let me just email your mom about this, then we can go on an adventure, okay?”

The email took twenty seconds, then Morgan and I were racing through the compound, brushing past anyone who got in our way. We had just turned down an unexplored hallway when we heard sniffles. I screeched to a stop. “Wait right here, Morgan.” One tap of my foot and I ‘saw’ them in a coat closet. And I was pretty sure I already knew who it was. I knocked very lightly on the door. “Peter?”

There was a lot of shuffling, then silence. “Who is it?”

“Y/N.” Morgan stomped her foot. “And Morgan.”

“Oh. Hey, guys.”

“Can I open the door?”

Before he even answered I could tell he was uncomfortable. His heart rate picked up and his fingers started tapping on his knee.

“Hey, Morgan. I’m going to talk to Peter for a little bit. Can you find Wanda until I get back? We can go on our adventure after.” She looked between me and the closet before nodding, running off the same way we came. “Keep an eye on her, FRI.”

Then I opened the door.

How I managed to squeeze inside that closet with Peter already in it was an absolute mystery to me, but I eventually closed the door on myself and let the space be dark.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“Not much.”

“Really? That’s good news.”

“Yup, just peachy.”

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Why are you crying in a closet, then?”

“Oh, you know, just…” He stayed silent.

I nudged his knee with mine. “Talk to me, Pete. It’s just us.”

He sniffled again. “MJ called. She - she, uh. She said— She can’t be with me right now.”

“She broke up with you?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Was I excited? Disappointed? I wouldn’t know.

“She said, with all of this Mysterio stuff still going on, it’s best if we’re not together.” His head dropped to his knees. ”School starts in four days, Y/N. How am I going to face her? How am I going to face anyone?”

His voice and my heart cracked at the end of his sentence. “I don’t know.” I stretched my hand forward and held onto his forearm, slowly running my thumb back and forth. “I’ll be there. Ned will be there. I’ll happily hit anyone in the face who says anything to you.”

He snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

“You weren’t there when I punched Flash.”

His head shot up. “You punched Flash?”

“You see what you miss when you get stopped at the airport?”

He laughed. “That stupid banana.”

I smiled and leaned back, letting my hand fall from his arm. “Have you called Ned?”

He stiffened slightly. “A couple days ago.”

“You should call him. Now you guys have something else in common.” His eyebrows scrunched together. “You both have had girlfriends and broken up with them in the same summer.” He visibly cringed. “Too soon, sorry.” I ended up in a squatting position, one hand on the knob. I grabbed his arm and gave it a small squeeze. “You’re going to be okay, Peter.”

I probably shouldn’t have left him in the closet, but I had a call to make.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“What the fuck, MJ?”

“What?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You broke up with Peter?”

Did I want Peter to be single so I could eventually shoot my shot? Yes. But not like this.

I found a different closet to hide in, pushing myself as far against the wall as possible and hopefully muffling my voice enough no one could hear me.

“You’ve seen everything on the news, Y/N. Spider-Man’s identity revealed, then Spider-Man killing Mysterio, it’s- it’s-“

“You know it’s not true. You know Peter’s Spider-Man and you know he would never hurt a fly, let alone kill Beck, no matter how hurt he was. Beck tried to kill you, and you’re punishing Peter for this?”

“I don’t know what to think! All of this shit about holograms and hallucinations, I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t. You saw how real that Elemental looked in Prague, you can’t say you’re not a little bit freaked out about this.”

”No, I can’t, but I can’t say that breaking your trust with Peter is the best option right now either.”

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the line. “Take care of him, Y/N. You get him and all of this superhero shit more than I ever will.”

Then she hung up.

She hung up.

Take care of him? What did she think I was doing, huh? What have I been doing this whole time?

I left the closet and made my way to the living room, ready for a six year old distraction. “Morgan?”

“Y/N!” She was sitting beside Peter on the couch, the afternoon sun filtering through her long eyelashes. “Come watch a movie with us.”

“How ‘bout some lunch first?”

“How about lunch and a movie?”

I laughed. “You’re convincing, I’ll give you that. Chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah!”

“Peter, chicken nuggets?”

“Sure.”

Morgan picked Disney movie after Disney movie, her attention never wavering. Once the sun went down, though, my eyes were getting heavy. After so many days of no sleep, my body insisted darkness meant it was time for bed. We were on movie number 4 (Sleeping Beauty, go figure) when my eyes couldn’t stay open. Before I knew it, my breathing had evened out and I only saw the insides of my eyelids.

I woke up the next morning on one of the most comfortable pillows I had ever had, which was saying a lot, ‘cause I had one of those memory foam ones. I could’ve slept on it forever, but then it shifted around and my neck got squished, and—

Wait.

Is this thing moving?

I opened my eyes, and sure enough, it was. I just so happened to be using the legs of none other than Peter Parker for a pillow. How I ended up like that, I have no idea, but my heart was in my throat the second I realized it.

It’s like I was frozen. (I had accidentally frozen myself on more than one occasion, it’s about as fun as you think it would be.) I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, all I could do was watch his chest move as he inhaled. It slowly started to move faster until I could feel his heart rate speeding up, and I knew something was wrong.

“Peter?” I sat up and turned to face him, one hand moving to his shoulder. “Wake up, Peter.” I shook him probably a little too harshly and he started awake, his eyes wild. “Hey.”

“Are you real?”

A nightmare. No wonder he was freaking out, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Yeah, I’m real.”

“Can- Can you prove it?” He saw the flash of distrust in my eyes and backtracked instantly. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s fine, Pete. Seriously.” He didn’t look like he believed me, so I had to think of something quick that would prove I was real. “Last night, we watched Sleeping Beauty, ‘cause it was Morgan’s fourth request, and you were actually really excited to watch it because you’d never seen it before, and so it starts and you were out in the first fifteen minutes.”

“Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself? Because you were asleep way before I was.”

“You woke up, sure, but you definitely fell asleep before I did.”

He smiled and leaned his head back, but it eventually dropped. He looked at me and asked quietly, “How can you tell? What’s real and what isn’t?”

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when I answered. “The bending. People move a specific way, even just how they walk and how they stand, and it can’t be mimicked. Beck tried it, he tried to make himself look like you, but it just felt wrong. Everything is slightly off when what I’m seeing isn’t reality.”

He grumbled, “Wish I could do that.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “You can, Peter. You already have half of it down, you just have to pay attention to it.”

“What do you mean?” He was fully sitting up at this point, his entire body engaged in my every word.

“You have heightened senses, right? Which makes the hallucinations ten times worse for you.” He nodded. “You can use those to your advantage. Heartbeats, footsteps, shifts in the dirt, they’re all jumbled together until you can differentiate between people. It takes a lot of concentration and time, but it eventually becomes second nature.” I was tapping the cushion with every other finger, a trick I picked up from my shrink after The Blip first happened. It used to be a coping mechanism, now it’s just a habit when I zone out.

“Can you teach me?”

His eyes were bright. How could I say no to him when he was looking at me like that? You did, Y/N, like three weeks ago. Okay, but those were life-threatening circumstances. This is different.

“Sure. But not today.” I stood up and stretched completely, then checked the time on the oven. Seven twenty-seven. I could get home just after eight if I left right now.

I made it at eight, right on the dot.

////////////

Stepping off the subway, I knew school was going to be rough. Not just that day, but the week, the month, the semester, the year. Senior year was supposed to be enjoyable, right? After the last few disasters Mr. Harrington has been apart of on his school trips, they all but banned us from going on any more of them. Not that I really minded, except for the senior trip we were supposed to have right after graduation. Summer was exciting enough for a lifetime, I didn’t need any more repeats of that.

I walked into the building, headphones in but no music playing. There was Brad, leaning against the locker of some poor unassuming junior. Flash, his camera on, documenting the last first day of high school. MJ, her own pair of headphones in, made eye contact with me briefly, then looked down at her phone again just as fast. Peter and Ned, slightly more solemn than usual, standing at their lockers, comparing class schedules.

My locker was only a few down from them, so I said hello before passing by, the three-number code learned by heart.

I sensed Peter and Ned before I ever heard them. “If I concentrate any harder on these footsteps I’m going to lose my mind.” He had texted me all weekend asking about how to learn movement patterns and footsteps, so he was obviously practicing my tips.

I laughed. “Yeah, duh, Peter, even I don’t know what everyone moves like. The trick is to learn the people you’re close to, then learn to pick them out of a crowd. Start with someone you see a lot of, who you’re familiar with, then work from there.”

“Ooh.”

I looked over at Ned. “How was the rest of your summer, Ned? Any more girlfriends?”

“No, I’m still a bachelor. I think I’ll stay this way for a while - strong independent man who doesn’t need a woman. But, I mean, if someone comes along, it’s not like I’ll say no.”

“I respect the hustle. Don’t tie yourself down, Ned.”

“Thank you, Y/N, I really appreciate that.” The bell rang and he looked down at his schedule. “I have physics, I’ll see you guys later.”

“What do you have?”

I looked at my own schedule, nearly running into someone as we walked through the hall. “Spanish. You?”

“Spanish.” I grabbed his sheet of paper and compared them.

“No fucking way.” We had every single class together.

Every.

Single.

Class.

Pepper.

“What is it?”

“We have every class together.”

“No way.” He grabbed the papers from my hands and looked over them himself. “The chances of this happening are—“

“Minuscule.”

He just shrugged it off. “Nice to have a familiar face in the crowd.”

I shot Pepper a quick text before we walked into Spanish.

Really, you have us in every class together?

I’m worried about him, Y/N. Frankly, I’m worried about you, too. Just keep an eye out for each other, okay?

Yeah yeah sure.

This school year just got a whole lot more interesting.

/////////

I guess I could consider Flash a friend. He was nice enough not to post the video he had of me being an Elemental and he let me use his shoulder as a pillow on the flight home. The only communication we had over the rest of the summer was me commenting something on his Instagram story and him replying. So I was a little surprised when he took a seat beside me in chemistry, but not disappointed.

“Do you and Parker have every class together?”

“Yup.”

“Shit that sucks.”

“He’s alright, Eugene, maybe one day you’ll realize that.”

“I can’t believe Mysterio tried to say Parker was Spider-Man. I mean, can you think of a less-likely candidate?”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop insulting my friends, Eugene, or I’ll make you move seats and do this class on your own.”

He shut up for a little bit, but when we got a review sheet to do that went over all of last year’s class, he started whispering. “Are you still, you know, turning into monsters and knocking people into rivers?” He hissed in pain as my foot connected with his shin. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” I whispered.

“It was fucking badass, Y/N.” Another hiss of pain.

“People died, Eugene. Do you not get that? People died because of me. All of the people in our trip could have died and it would have been my fault.” The bell rang and I nearly sprinted out of the class.

My heart was beating too fast, my breathing was too shallow. I knew those were a bad combination, but I couldn’t stop. The room was spinning and I couldn’t feel the ground underneath me and holy shit am I falling?

Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me through a door, and as much as I wanted to pull away I knew I could trust whoever it was.

“Breathe with me, Y/N, okay?”

Peter.

“Just breathe with me.”

I tried. You have no idea how badly I wanted to stop feeling like that. But my body couldn’t catch up to my brain and that freaked me out even more and now I was getting lightheaded. “I- I-“

And then a completely new sensation filled my brain. Lips. Soft - maybe a little chapped - lips were on mine.

I didn’t need help breathing anymore because Peter Parker literally took my breath away.

He pulled away, but I kept my eyes closed. Maybe if I keep them closed I can hold onto it just a little bit longer.

“You okay?”

God his voice was so soft. I just wanted to wrap myself in it and take a nap.

“Did you get that from Teen Wolf?”

Smooth, Y/N, real smooth.

Shut up.

“Ye- yeah, I did.”

I sighed in relief. “Thanks. For stopping it.”

“No problem.”

“How’d you know?”

“Teen Wolf.”

“No, how’d you know I was having a panic attack?”

“Oh. Your- your heartbeat, actually. We have every class together, so yours has been the easiest to learn so far. Then I heard it beating like crazy so I knew something was up.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I thought about it for a second. “Maybe later, when we’re not sitting on the floor of an empty classroom.”

He laughed. “Okay.” He stood up and gave me his hand, pulling me to my feet. “C’mon, we’re late for English.” He led the way down the nearly empty hallway, while I pulled out my phone and sent one more text to Pepper.

Okay, it was a good idea.

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot #marvel #marvel comics #reader insert #peter parker x mj #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson #spiderman far from home #mcu #spiderman #avengers

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larauthorized · 3 years

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Marissa Cooper Analysis

Coop, as Summer calls her. Or Cosmo Girl as Seth refers to her in his comic book. The girl next door whom Ryan first met in that driveway, delivering the most iconic flirtatious pick-up line in history. Yup, we’re going to dive deeper into the one and only Marissa Cooper, the heart of the show, who’s sadly misunderstood and overlooked even in The OC fandom. (Also, because she’s not here to defend herself, but we got you, girl!)

She’s introduced as the rich girl next door, who’s waiting to be picked up by her possibly first, long time boyfriend in the driveway. Later on, we find out that she’s not just the ordinary girl next door. She’s organized and loves planning events (the fashion show was the start of many), while it may seem like she’s only doing it for her mother’s sake, but you can tell that she really enjoys it as it becomes another way of escapism from her dysfunctional family (other than drinking that we’ll get into that later). She does this every season that when she’s kicked off the school even for heroic reasons, that’s when everything starts spiraling out of control that she loses herself.

Now let’s talk about Luke, Marissa’s first, long-time boyfriend who happens to be a water polo guy that Seth might or might not hold hatred for. From the first season, we get to see a glimpse of how her family, well, Julie mostly, is the kind of rich family that forces her to be and stay with Luke just because they “look good on paper”. It reminds me of Blair and Nate from Gossip Girl, another one of Josh Schwartz’s big hit show. However, Marissa doesn’t seem too happy with the rich life that she’s used to, especially when she knows that her father is possibly in deep trouble as cops keep showing up at her door. Enter Ryan. He’s an outsider, someone who’s far different than her, someone that she longed for in years. She’s intrigued, that one is hard to deny. However, when they start talking and conversing in each other as they sneak into the Model Home house, she realizes that they’re not that different, if anything, they’re similar. In a way.. But, when Cotillion comes around, she doesn’t know what to do, as Julie once again, demands that she stays with Luke just because they’re “picture perfect” (doesn’t matter if the guy cheats and whores around behind her back like the asshole he is *sigh*). And if we’re not going to blame Blair Waldorf for letting Nate cheat on her and still choose to be with him, then we’re not going to shame Marissa, either. Yes, we went there. (take that, Bustle and TheTalko!).

Marissa’s addiction. That one is possibly one of her worst traits, that the writers loved toying around with throughout the seasons. She tends to go overboard with this one as we see on the very first episode where she steals a whole bottle of alcohol and is left on the driveway, passed-out. This is where Ryan comes in, carrying her back to the pool house, indirectly claiming as her savior *this goes both ways for each other throughout the series, by the way*. Her alcoholism isn’t just the only thing that occurs whenever her life’s on downward spiral, it’s also shown in her bedroom sometimes. When she’s on a grey area with her life emotionally, she reflects it on her bedroom, that soon leads to be a makeover project by her best friend, Summer. Summer describes this as a reason why she’s so depressed, which psychologically speaking, can be accurate. Messy rooms are sometimes interpreted as one’s life not being as organized as they expect it to be, therefore they tend to think that “if my life is out of control, then what’s the point of keeping my room clean”? This is definitely what happens to Marissa.

Her addiction doesn’t even get too much until Season 3. Even after what happens with Ryan’s brother, we rarely see her taking a drop after, Ryan says and I quote, “You’ve been amazing,” She replies with, “I know what it feels like to have someone believes in you when no one else does.”

Aside from negative coping, she’s not only known for that, if you’re actually looking closely into her character and not just judging it based on the cover. She’s an avid reader, though it’s barely shown, but we see her having her nose buried in a book every once in a while. Now that I think about it, that and many other positive qualities that she has, should have been focused and explored way more. She’s organized and carries planner whenever she needs to, she’s clearly more than the girl who needed saving if only the writers see that. Cause then maybe, people won’t refer to her as a “tragic” character that the writers want us to believe *she is not*.

She’s definitely an introvert - compared to her best friend, Summer, who’s more the life of the party. Sure, she goes to parties and surrounds herself with her so-called “friends”, but you can literally see her drinking alone in the corner while Summer is probably having a lot more fun than she is. It’s clear that she only uses party scene as a way to steal alcohol that she will probably drink later at night as a way of coping. She also seems to be uncomfortable around new people and charges her energy while she’s on her own. This is why when she’s kicked off the school and has to go to a new environment, she doesn’t fit in right away, which leads to her insecurity increasing even higher (something that she also struggles with on a daily basis). The insecurity itself is possibly rooted from maternal issues she has, we see that on the very first episode, Julie is critizing her on how she looks, how she takes the comment on a personal level. After overdosing herself in Tijuana, she’s put on Suicide Watch, and we learn that she also suffers from “possible” ED in the past, masking it something that’s not serious because she was very stressed at the time, but is it though? Now, we never really know further cause that storyline is never explored further, we also don’t know if the writers are taking it seriously or just putting heavy weight on her shoulder for fun. Either way, it really sucks for her character, especially when she had other deep trauma issues that are barely addressed throughout the series.

Her savior complex. Now now now, this one is kind of controversial, excluding the last season where the main focus is “Ryan failed to save her”, helping and saving people are actually her forte, just like Ryan - which is why they probably connect in the first place. People love to call she’s selfish and needs saving all the time, but they’re people, who don’t bother to look deeper and judge all they please, it’s sickening. First, despite how problematic it might seem, she tries to help Oliver (no matter how many times Ryan thinks she doesn’t). She sees herself in Oliver and is scared that he might go down the rabbit hole if she leaves him alone, that’s actually sweet and showcases her nurturing side. The only downside is that every guy she does this to, seems to take it the wrong way and thinks of it as more than a friendly gesture. Cause you know, it was the 2000s, boy/girl friendships aren’t as common as it is now. She even lets Ryan go to help Theresa even though she needs him as well, knowing that he literally has an affair with another girl while they are still kind of together. How she’s trying to make Ryan’s brother feel welcome in the neighborhood, keeping him company, not realizing that Trey might turn out to be the one that truly hurt and destroy her. What makes my blood boil even more is when they call her stupid for trusting Trey, for what, really? For wanting to get to know Ryan’s family because she loves him that much, that she’s willing to go far and beyond? *shudders* Even then, she’s still not thinking of herself when that happens, that her only response when Trey confronts her is “Me?! How about Ryan?” So yeah, I’ll fight anyone who calls her selfish. My ass. The other thing with Johnny is that, she doesn’t try to save him, she actually sees him as a friend that she can vent to about her traumatic events that happen to her in the previous season. Because, for some reason they make Ryan look and seem like a douche this season and not wanting to talk to her though he always is there for her before *probably for angst, right?*. It’s actually stupid how they twist Johnny around and make him in love with her, leaving her yet alone again, but guess that’s what they’re trying to accomplish with her character as she’s left with her addiction only during this entire thing.

Saving guys who don’t even deserve a shred of her kindness aren’t the only thing she’s good at - remember Hailey, Kirsten’s sister, who ends up a stripper that one time and how Marissa and Ryan find her and as he’s about to give up after getting kicked out of a club, she’s still optimistic and comes up with a plan to save her? Yeah, that one true partner in crime right there. She also schemes every now and then, not that that’s ever explored deeply in the show, but it’s there.

Now Volchok, the guy that we all want to punch (Let’s go, Ryan!). She just loses a friend (one she can talk to about traumatic events), deals with s3xual assault and having to shoot someone to save her boyfriend, that’s got to be too much on a teenager girl like her. So no, she doesn’t just do that because she “loves to date bad boys”. There she is, standing and looking around the Model Home house, reconciling of the old times between her and Ryan. She realizes that she wants to be with Ryan and is ready for it too, but she can’t seem to go over to him when the time comes, giving him the mixtape that she makes him. The situation’s reversed, she used to be the rich girl with a mansion, now there she is, barely having her own bedroom, living in a trailer park. To add to that, she’s dealing with traumatic events still, so of course she’s insecure. She thinks she’s not good enough for Ryan and giving in to Volchok is a sign of that. But she wants Ryan to be happy, hence why she chases after Sadie, practically driving the girl into his arms. Poor, poor girl deserves so much better.

Let’s take a breather and talk about her family now. Despite how dysfunctional it might seem on the outside, and how many furniture thrown in the pool, doesn’t erase the fact that she’s a family girl. Jimmy, her father, has a way of coming and going any ways he likes. She even points it out and says, “You know, I wish you’d be like a real dad,” Ouch, that hurt. But it’s true, when it comes to family, she’s looking for a tradition, something stable that she can always cling onto especially when she’s in time of need. This is why when she comes up bringing bagels to the Cohen’s house, she feels warmed and welcomed by the family. It’s the one thing she lacks of in her family. Julie, despite the crazy ways in providing for her, is actually doing a better job at being there for her than Jimmy ever does. Sure, Julie is seen more of a villain in the first season (hell, the woman sleeps with her boyfriend that she lost her virginity to, so if I were her, I’d understand if she wants to, say, take revenge and invite her mom’s sister that Julie strongly hates as part of her master plan), but by the end of Season 3, they really grow stronger as a mother-daughter relationship that we really wish to see more of if given a chance. Despite not showing much for her and only coming for the drama, she truly cares for her sister, Kaitlin. When she’s done moping around after traumatic events, she drives away to where her sister’s boarding school is, all because she wants to help her sister with something. There she is, finally having drama-free, fun episode where we get to see her strolling around in a sexy school girl outfit, but clearly the writers never catch her a break and hate to see her happy for once.

Marissa is always seen as beautiful on the outside, but I don’t think she ever feels it at times. Luke’s cheating, probably makes her feel insecure and her mother sleeping with him helps as well. Ryan is the only person who actually sees her. She’s his heather.

People love pointing out her flaws when it comes to her relationship with darling Ryan, but the truth is, she has always been putting him before anyone else. She saves him multiple times throughout the series, even when he’s hardly there for her in Season 3. When she follows him to Chino, she visits his house and finds out more about him as a child - discovering that he used to be in a play dressed as Snoopy (again, she’s finding more and more about him because she cares and loves him deeply). Then, he goes out there saving his brother, not knowing that who he’s dealing with, she comes just in time with a car, saving him. This happens again when he’s broken up with Lindsay, she finds him in the rain, and comforts him, no talking needed. She shot her rapist to save him by the finale. Even in Season 3, when he’s chasing trouble with Volchok going back to his old ways as she’s miles away from Newport, he seeks for her help again, she is quick to respond and be there for him right away. Something he fails to do during this season, don’t ever tell me that she never thinks of him when that’s not true. She encourages him to talk about his architecture dream when they��re both on a college trip (this is such goals!).

With her neglectful and narcistic parents, emotionally, and Ryan’s who’s more physically, that’s why they click and their relationship works. He doesn’t trust anyone and she doesn’t encourage her bad behavior on him, but they’re both there for each other. Always. She’s his constant, just like he’s hers, she accepts him the way he is because she’s imperfect as well. She sees him as the one thing that she can rely on and that’s really sweet. They both come from dysfunctional family with their own issues in hopes to build one of their own that actually works, at least that’s what we’re all rooting for, right?

Well, at least, in another world, we see Marissa Cooper and Ryan Atwood sailing away on a boat, travelling, and exploring the world as they should be before settling back down to their roots - Model Home House, Newport. It’s what she deserves.

#marissa cooper #ryan atwood #the oc #marissa cooper analysis #character analysis #the oc analysis #ryissa #ryanandmarissa #marissacooper #ryanatwood #theoc #analysis #blog #blogger #bloggerslife #writerslife

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

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Luck of the Universe (Spencer Reid Screenplay)

Season 9 Reid deserves more recognition. Definitely one of my fav looks/seasons. So I wrote about it :)

Summary: Years after Spencer saves Maggie’s life, they reunite unexpectedly. Maggie thinks it’s fate; Spencer does not. She challenges him and says they’ll meet again, even without intending to. They do meet again, but not under favorable circumstances. Maggie’s life is in danger and Spencer must save her . . . again.

Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst, Fluff, Screenplay Content Warning: Profanity, pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, violence, death Word Count: 10.5k

DISCLAIMER: This was originally a screenplay but was adapted to have a more cohesive appearance on Tumblr.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer Reid sits outside a cafe to enjoy his beachside view from a coffee shop. Foreign to California’s sun, Spencer has aloe and sunscreen packed with him. He even wears sunglasses wherever he goes. While he patiently waits for the arrival of his coffee, he reads The Narrative of John Smith. The exact copy that Maeve gave him over a year ago.

Serving his coffee is Maggie. This event will single handedly change both of their lives forever.

MAGGIE: Let me know if I can get you anything else.

As she sets down the cup, Reid thanks her, and out of politeness, he tilts his head forward ever so slightly so that his glasses will shift to the bridge of his nose. This way she can see his eyes. And when she does see his eyes, they are so familiar to her, but she can’t place where she remembers them from. Spencer notices her looking at him.

MAGGIE: Oh sorry, you just looked really familiar.

SPENCER: Actually we have met before. I’m the agent that, um, saved you.

Maggie stands there for a moment in complete disbelief.

MAGGIE: Oh my God, yes! No, I totally remember you now. Wow. Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner I’m -

SPENCER: Maggie.

Maggie peers down at her name tag and gives him a funny look.

SPENCER: No, I genuinely do remember you, and I didn’t just read your name tag. Um I have what’s called an eidetic memory. I’m able to recall things with high precision, even if it was a brief period of time on one occasion.

MAGGIE: Really? That’s incredible. I wish I could say the same. All I could remember after being resuscitated was your eyes. I meant to thank you, by the way, for saving me, but at the time I was too in shock. I went to the police department the next day trying to find you, but you weren’t there. And as it turns out, it’s not so easy searching for a pair of hazel eyes.

Spencer smiles.

SPENCER: I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m a Supervisory Special Agent with the Behavior Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia.

Hearing his name completely changes her. She says it to herself in disbelief. For years she’s wondered who he was, and now she knows.

MAGGIE: So what brings you back to California?

SPENCER: We finished a case here earlier. I’m just killing time until I go back by reading.

MAGGIE: May I?

Maggie extends her hand to ask for the book politely. Spencer hands it to Maggie. She recognizes it almost immediately.

MAGGIE: Oh, I love Arthur Conan Doyle. This is just one of those novels I wish I could read again for the first time.

Spencer doesn’t respond, he’s just so enamored by the way she thinks and speaks. She misinterprets his silence as a sign that he’d rather not keep talking.

MAGGIE: I should probably let you get back to reading. I wouldn’t want to keep you from the opinionated Everyman John Smith. I hope you have a safe travel home.

Maggie begins to get up from her chair.

SPENCER: Wait um, I don’t normally ask this, but I still have a few hours until my flight and I’d really love to keep talking with you so do you think maybe we could go somewhere or -

MAGGIE: I would love to, but I’m working until the closing shift tonight.

SPENCER: Oh okay.

Maggie is conflicted. Against her better judgement, she agrees.

MAGGIE: You know what? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.

Excitement rises in Spencer. When Maggie goes into the coffee shop, he tries to contain himself. He fixes his hair and straightens out his cardigan and tie. Maggie comes back out.

MAGGIE: Ever been to the pier?

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are looking out onto the ocean from the pier. It’s one of the rare times that they aren’t being swallowed by a huge crowd. It’s just them, a few other people, and the sunset. An ocean breeze blows through, making Maggie shiver and bump into Spencer.

MAGGIE: My bad. Sorry.

SPENCER: Do you want my -

MAGGIE: No, no I’m fine.

Spencer ignores her statement and drapes his cardigan around her. Though she would never admit it, it sort of smells like him - and it’s the most comforting smell in the world.

MAGGIE: It’s beautiful isn’t it?

Maggie says while looking out to the sunset.

SPENCER: Yeah, it is.

He says while looking at her.

After a couple seconds, she notices him staring, looks at him, smiles, and nudges him.

MAGGIE: It’s getting late. We should head back.

Spencer follows close behind as Maggie leads the way.

MAGGIE: I wish we could’ve hung out longer, but I don’t want to leave Tony running the shop alone for too long and I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight.

SPENCER: For what it’s worth, I enjoyed the little time we did spend together.

MAGGIE: I did, too.

SPENCER: So maybe, when I’m back here, we could make plans.

MAGGIE: I’ll look forward to your return then.

Maggie and Spencer walk a little longer in a comfortable silence, until finally they’re back at the coffee shop.

MAGGIE: Do you have a pen?

Spencer hesitates for a moment, but ultimately, has to place his hand on Maggie’s hip to retrieve the pen inside the pocket. This gesture startles her and causes her to remember that she was wearing his cardigan.

MAGGIE: Oh sorry, I forgot that I was wearing this.

SPENCER: No keep it. It looks better on you anyway. Consider it an early birthday gift. September 8 right?

MAGGIE: How did you- Oh right. Eidetic memory.

Spencer hands her the pen and Maggie reaches for a napkin from the table and writes her number on it.

MAGGIE: So if you’re ever insanely bored at 3 a.m. or you’re not busy saving someone’s life, call me.

Spencer takes the napkin.

SPENCER: Will do.

He tries to mask how excited he really is.

Maggie heads back inside, but stops herself at the door. She turns back to Spencer.

MAGGIE: (genuinely asking) Do you know how often people reconnect without intending to after years of not seeing each other?

SPENCER: Not very often I suppose.

MAGGIE: This could very well just be a huge coincidence, but it really feels like some luck of the universe that I’m talking to you right now. And I think we’ll be seeing each other soon again.

Spencer’s intrigued. As a doctor, he’s pragmatic. Romantic notions such as destiny and luck - he wasn’t a believer of. Even God, he was skeptical of. But he wanted to see Maggie again, even if that meant he had to agree that it was fate after all.

SPENCER: And if we don’t?

Maggie pauses to answer his question.

MAGGIE: Then we will eventually.

Before Maggie opens the door, she notices Spencer pulling money out of his pocket to pay for his coffee. She stops him.

MAGGIE: It’s on the house.

She says with a small smile that’s returned with a grin that creeps upon Spencer’s face. When she fully enters the cafe, Spencer is left alone with his thoughts.

. . .

It’s the next day. The BAU is seated at the round table. Penelope is presenting the case. Reid’s momentarily distracted. He plays with the napkin in his book. It’s the napkin with Maggie’s number on it. His fixation lasts for so long that he misses the presentation entirely. It’s only when JJ asks him a question directly does he tune in and snap out of his trance.

REID: What was the question?

Reid shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to hide his confusion by opening up the case file.

ROSSI: You’ve been awfully quiet this morning. A little too quiet. Care to share?

REID: Nothing. Just thinking.

He’s lying and they all know it. The team exchanges suspicious glances.

REID: Sorry, Garcia, could you repeat it one more time?

GARCIA: Why of course! Anything for you, Boy Wonder. A week ago, Brynn Dryer disappeared from her home late at night. 48 hours after she was reported missing, a couple jogging past a lake found her body. In the M.E’s report, there was a terrifyingly large amount of evidence that she was brutally beaten and clubbed. The official C.O.D was blunt force trauma to the head and the lake was nothing more than a disposal site. Less than a day later, Eliza O’ Hara went missing after someone invaded her home. Yesterday local P.D found her in the middle of a field by the highway. Same M.O. The police department is anticipating that when you land, another girl will go missing.

Spencer notices something.

REID: Wait, can you put their pictures side by side?

Garcia does so. Spencer makes a connection.

JJ: What is it, Spence?

REID: The similarities between the two victims are uncanny. Notice the eye color, skin tone, hair style, even down to the freckles they have.

BLAKE: Alright so he’s got an aggression toward brown eyed, tan brunettes with bangs and freckles.

ROSSI: And I have an aggression toward telemarketers but you don’t see me clubbing them to death.

HOTCH: The cooling off period between kills is getting shorter. He’s escalating and we’re going to put a stop to this before he hits his stride. Garcia, you’re coming with us. Wheels up in 30.

The team is leaving the round table.

. . .

The team is on the flight.

HOTCH: JJ, as soon as we land, I need you setting up a press conference to let the women in the area know to be vigilant. After that, we’ll interview the family’s of Eliza and Brynn. I need Blake and Reid working on the geographical profile. Dave, you and Morgan will take a closer look at the bodies and see if you can’t gather more information. And Garcia,

GARCIA: Yes, sir?

HOTCH: Find as many more connections between these women as you can, and contact any other women who fit the victimology.

GARCIA: Yes, sir.

ROSSI: Apparently, it'll be 101 degrees when we land. Remind me again why people live in California?

Reid perks up. He didn’t even know he was going back to California. But now that he does, he’s even more on edge.

. . .

Reid works on the geographical profile, while Blake assists from her chair. There’s something off about Reid, and she’s about to find out what.

BLAKE: Hey, you alright, Reid? You seem like you’re a million miles away.

Reid stops working on the map. He turns around to face Blake.

REID: I met this girl yesterday. She was actually a former victim I resuscitated. And before I left, she said she had a feeling we would see each other again soon.

Spencer pauses and purses his lips.

SPENCER: She looks just like the other victims.

BLAKE: So you’re worried that when you see her again, it’ll be because of this case.

REID: Do . . . do you think I could call her? To let her know.

BLAKE: I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to break the rules if I were you, but I can’t, in good conscience, advise you to let her know what’s happening. By doing so, you’re giving her an advantage other people don’t have. If she tunes into JJ’s press conference, I’m sure she’ll be safe.

REID: I thought Maeve was gonna be safe too. Look how that turned out.

Blake is at a loss for words. Here she is, the linguist, and yet she can’t find the right words to tell Reid to comfort him.

. . .

JJ sits beside Garcia as Garcia sets up her system.

JJ: Spence has been acting really weird today.

GARCIA: So it’s not just me! I knew something must’ve been wrong because earlier on the flight, I asked if he wanted to play online chess with me and he said no. Can you believe that? I know he’s all anti-tech and everything, but he’s never passed up a game of chess. So that’s why I’ve already done some digging.

JJ gives Garcia the face of “You shouldn’t have done that.”

GARCIA: Okay, but before you say I shouldn’t have, you should see this.

Garcia pulls up a small window on her computer to show to JJ. JJ is shocked.

JJ: A three hour call with his mom last night? Could’ve just been his regular check in.

GARCIA: See that’s what I thought, too, but look.

Garcia scrolls further up the call list.

JJ: He hasn’t called his mom in months.

GARCIA: We all know Reid tells everything to his mom. Something must’ve happened yesterday.

Unbeknownst to Garcia and JJ, Reid walks in.

REID: Hey, guys - what’re you looking at?

It’s too late now. Reid’s already seen it.

REID: You’re keeping tabs on me now? How long have you been monitoring me? Huh?

Anger possesses Reid.

GARCIA: Just since this morning. I only looked at your call history briefly.

REID: Unbelievable.

JJ: We were just worried about you. We all are. There’s obviously something going on.

REID: So then ask me about it. Ever thought of that?

JJ: We’re sorry.

REID: Yeah no, I’m fine, thanks for asking.

Reid storms off from JJ and Garcia.

. . .

Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan all meet Garcia, JJ, and Blake before delivering the profile. Spencer’s missing.

MORGAN: Where’s Pretty boy?

BLAKE: I thought he was going to talk to Jennifer and Garcia.

GARCIA: He did, but something happened . . . he was upset and left. I thought maybe he went back to working on the geo-profile.

HOTCH: Garcia, when did you last speak to him?

GARCIA: Oh, I don’t know, sir, um, maybe fifteen minutes ago?

HOTCH: Morgan, go find Reid. We’ll deliver the profile.

MORGAN: Where should I be looking?

BLAKE: He went to a coffee shop yesterday. I’m not sure which one, but it’s a start.

. . .

Reid is frantically entering the coffee shop. He scans the room for Maggie but doesn’t see her.

TONY: Hey, what can I get for you?

SPENCER: Is Maggie here?

TONY: Who’s asking?

SPENCER: (flashing his badge) I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI. Let me ask you again, where’s Maggie?

TONY: Didn’t show up today.

SPENCER: Did she call in sick?

TONY: Nope.

SPENCER: When was the last time you saw her?

TONY: Last night when we were working the closing shift.

SPENCER: Do you know how she got home?

TONY: She walked. I tried to offer her a ride, but she said she likes to walk. Something about clearing the mind.

SPENCER: Did she walk alone?

TONY: Mhm.

Spencer’s mind swirls. He is living his worst nightmare all over again. When he turns around and sees Derek pulling up. Reid rushes out of the coffee shop and hops into the passenger seat immediately. Derek doesn’t even question it.

REID: Drive. I need Garcia on the phone.

Derek dials her.

GARCIA: Did you find Rei-

REID: (cutting her off) Garcia, I need you to look up Magnolia Tate. Get me her address.

MORGAN: What is it, Reid?

REID: She didn’t show up to work today. Her coworker said the last time he saw her was when she was walking home. She fits the victimology. Garcia, the address?

GARCIA: 178 Citrus Boulevard. Be safe.

REID: Thank you, Garcia.

GARCIA: Of course. And, Reid?

REID: Yeah?

GARCIA: I’m really super-duper sorry about earlier.

REID: It’s fine. I know you guys were just looking out for me.

Reid can sense Garcia smiling through the phone so he promptly hangs up knowing their business is resolved.

MORGAN: Reid, there is a good chance this could just be a coincidence.

REID: I’m telling you - nothing with this girl is just a coincidence.

MORGAN: Well, have you called her yet?

REID: No.

MORGAN: Then call her now, Reid.

REID: I can’t.

MORGAN: Yes, you can.

REID: I can’t.

MORGAN: Why not?

REID: I’m scared that if I call her, I won’t be able to stop, and I’ll want to keep talking to her, but I can’t do that. Not when I know what it’s like loving something death can touch.

MORGAN: Is this about Maeve?

REID: It’s always about Maeve! Morgan, I watched her die in front of me. And just knowing that right now I could be in the same position -

MORGAN: Listen, I know how guilty you feel about Maeve. Man, I feel guilty about her, too, but you gotta understand that if this is connected to our case, you’re gonna save her. Trust me on this.

REID: Yeah, okay.

MORGAN: So how do you two know each other?

REID: She was actually a previous victim of ours. Nearly a decade ago, I performed CPR after her ex-boyfriend pushed her off the boat, bound and gagged. They were out on the lake watching the Fourth of July firework show, but a witness recognized her from the news, which ultimately saved her life. Prior to that, he killed practically all of her next of kin because he believed they were responsible for the restraining order she filed against him.

MORGAN: Why’d he risk taking her out in public?

REID: He was recreating their first date. How do you not remember this?

MORGAN: Actually, now that you mention it, I do remember the case. Cause you made that stupid joke that he was trying to reignite a spark.

Reid makes an offended/sad face. Morgan smiles.

REID: You know, taking into consideration how much emotional trauma we’ve been through combined, there is a very real possibility that our relationship would be, for lack of a better word, doomed. She has no parents, my mom has schizophrenia. We’ve both been held hostage. I’ve been hospitalized, and she’s potentially been abducted for a second time.

MORGAN: Seems like the perfect fit to me.

REID: I’m being serious.

MORGAN: I am, too.

REID: Statistically, 40% of all long distance relationships end up failing in some way, including relationships where the partners are married. And of that 40%, 70% of these failures occur because of unplanned circumstances that happen to one of the participants in a relationship. Unplanned circumstances are practically a part of our line of work. Not to mention, most long distance relationships survive on two in-person visits per month. But relying on getting two cases in California per month is completely unrealistic.

MORGAN: Kid, you can give me all the statistics and numbers to convince me why you shouldn’t be together, but the one thing you haven’t said is that you don’t like her.

REID: Fine, I don’t like her.

MORGAN: Then why am I driving to her house?

Reid pauses, not ready to admit he’s wrong.

REID: Because this could be a lead on the case.

MORGAN: Whatever you say, Pretty Boy.

After a long period of time, Reid finally speaks.

REID: At first, I only noticed her because she looked like Maeve. Even when we were talking, it felt like I was talking to Maeve again. But then, she surprised me. She said that seeing me again felt like a “luck of the universe.” That’s when I realized, she’s not a girl who reminds me of Maeve. She’s her own person. She’s Maggie.

MORGAN: See that wasn’t so hard now was it?

REID: I will crush you.

. . .

Morgan and Reid are walking up the flight of stairs to get to Maggie’s apartment.

MORGAN: Remind me again of the plan. Because realistically, she could just be playing hooky or be out somewhere else.

REID: Once we get to her apartment, if she’s not there, I’ll call.

MORGAN: Have we thought about what we’re gonna say if she is there? Oh sorry ma’am, we thought you were kidnapped.

REID: I’ll figure it out.

Reid and Morgan are in her hallway. Morgan knocks on her door, but the door moves when he knocks on it. It’s open. Morgan and Reid exchange glances. Morgan reaches for his gun as he cautiously opens the door wider to enter. When they do, there’s no one inside. But there was an obvious sign of a struggle. A glass vase has been smashed.

REID: Call Hotch. I’ll call her.

Morgan goes to the side to let Hotch know.

REID: (to himself) Please pick up. Please pick up.

MAGGIE: (her voicemail) Hey, it’s Mags. Sorry I couldn’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message I’ll call you back when I can.

Hearing Maggie’s voice almost makes him want to break down in tears, but he composes himself.

MORGAN: Reid, we gotta go. Garcia found something.

. . .

Hotch, JJ, Blake, Rossi, and Garcia are all together in the conference room while on the phone with Reid and Morgan.

MORGAN: What’d you find, Baby Girl?

GARCIA: Well after doing some digging, I unearthed Marcus Linden and Toby Forthword. Who are they you may ask? Good question. They are Eliza O’Hara and Brynn Dryer’s sons. And you’re probably thinking, they have children? Yes indeedio they do. The reason I didn’t find this earlier was because when Brynn and Eliza were teen moms, they set up closed adoptions for their sons before they were born. I’ve been trying to find any contact they might’ve made with the agency or their kids since the adoptions, but I haven’t been able to. I thought that was weird, but I started searching for other women that fit the criteria, and would you believe - there was one.

The pause Garcia takes before saying it, tells Reid it’s Maggie.

GARCIA: Magnolia Tate.

Reid is at a loss for words. His mind is trying to wrap about what he’s hearing, but it’s all so much.

HOTCH: Could you find any more connections?

GARCIA: A week before the abductions, all three of them went to a clinic for women who were pregnant or planning to be.

Reid bites his lips as he tries to grasp it all.

REID: Is she pregnant?

All of them know who he’s referring to.

JJ: Spence . . . they all were.

If Reid’s jaw could be on the floor, it would. Even Morgan winced as JJ revealed the news. A moment of silence falls over the group as they all feel for Spencer. Hotch is the first to speak after nearly a minute of not.

HOTCH: Apply those precedents to teen mothers in the early 2000s and cross it with women that gave birth to sons who ended up in the system instead of being adopted.

MORGAN: Baby girl, look at kids that are around 18-20 now. He would’ve been recently freed from the system. He’ll most likely have a history of anger management issues or disciplinary issues.

ROSSI: The mother might also be recently deceased.

JJ: There’s your stressor.

BLAKE: With the death of his biological mother, he wouldn’t get the answers he wanted. He’d look for them from the women that his mother is similar to. Brynn, Eliza, and Magnolia all serve as surrogates. Garcia, he’d be aiming to work in the system. Not only would he want to prevent other kids from going through what he did, but it would also explain how he found them.

JJ: You know the fact that all three women were pregnant could account for his anger. To him, that’s the ultimate form of betrayal. Giving their son up, only to have another child in the future to keep.

GARCIA: Got it.

Spencer is still trying to process. He stays quiet as he fiddles with the napkin. It almost appears as though he might tear it.

. . .

Maggie’s balled up in a corner, hugging her knees. She’s badly beaten. She’s bleeding, her eyes are swollen from crying and she’s looking down at her stomach. The unsub is standing, watching this.

UNSUB: Don’t cry, Magnolia. I wouldn’t have done that if you just answered me.

MAGGIE: You killed my baby!

UNSUB: And I’ll do more if you don’t answer me!

MAGGIE: Please . . . I can’t give you the answers you want. I’m not your mother.

UNSUB: If you don’t answer me, I’ll hurt your little boy. I’ve been watching him very closely. His name is Elijah Martin, cute kid by the way. Quite the over-achieving 12 year old. He’s in soccer and track and field. Wanna see his school picture?

Maggie closes her eyes and turns her head so she doesn’t have to see.

UNSUB: See, Magnolia, what you’re going through right now, is only a fraction of what I had to go through in my foster homes. I was tortured, bullied, abused. All because that old hag didn’t want to make the sacrifice to be a mother. So answer me this, how could you give him up?

MAGGIE: I may not have made the sacrifice to be a mother, but I did make a sacrifice the day I chose not to be his. I wanted to keep him. I cried when I watched him leave with that other family. But I couldn’t be the mother he needed.

UNSUB: Why haven’t you called him? Or tried to get him back?

MAGGIE: Reaching out would’ve done more harm than good. Not knowing who I am, or who his father was, meant that we could never stand in the way of his future. He can reach his fullest potential - free of mine or Charlie’s hindrance.

The unsub understands Maggie. She’s gotten through to him. But he still carries anger. He groans in frustration and grabs Maggie by the collar of her shirt.

UNSUB: We’re gonna take a little trip.

. . .

The BAU is at the local Police Department. Garcia is reading to them what she’s found.

GARCIA: I know a textbook serial killer when I see one. His name is Ray Lewis-Fernandez. Throughout his time in foster care, he was a troublemaker. He never stayed for more than a month in a group home. Quite a Dennis the Menace, according to his foster families. It also says here that he got caught on multiple occasions trying to get his file so he could find his mother. Her name was Shawna Heights, and I say “was” because she passed away exactly two weeks before he was emancipated.

MORGAN: So this guy is finally able to find his mother on his own, only to realize he missed her by two weeks.

GARCIA: Talk about bad luck. But that isn’t even the worst of it. If Ray did do some digging after his emancipation, he would’ve discovered that Shawna had two sons and a daughter only a few years after he was born.

JJ: Did he try to contact them?

GARCIA: No, but that’s the surprising part. I profiled him wanting to reach out and be one big ol’ happy family, but then I remembered I’m not a profiler.

REID: Wait, that might actually be it.

Everyone is shocked to hear Spencer speak up.

GARCIA: Wait, I’m right?

REID: Foster families mentioned he’d been trying to find his mother but at the core of its meaning - he’s trying to find family. If his mission is to find family, he wouldn’t stay away unless he had to. Garcia, check if there’s a restraining order on Ray.

GARCIA: Bingo, Boy Wonder! Malcolm, Shawna’s husband, filed it against him just days after Shawna’s funeral.

REID: The restraining order means he can’t come within a certain distance of the kids, right? So he wouldn’t risk it all just to have lunch with them or send a letter. Think about it - high risk, high reward. Ray would only violate the order, if he could have them completely. But in order to not get caught, he’ll use maternal figures to lure them. They just lost their mother and seeing or talking to someone so similar to Shawna would make them that much more susceptible. But Brynn and Eliza are both mothers who have given up their sons. This means they know what inadequate guardians look like. They’re aware the kids are better off with Malcolm, and they won’t be responsible for abducting them and placing them under Ray’s care. It would completely go against their own reasoning for giving away their children. Their refusal to help him execute the plan angers him to the point of murder. He isn’t just killing because they’re surrogates for his rage, but because they refuse to help him achieve his goal.

ROSSI: The kids are his endgame.

BLAKE: All he’s wanted is a family. Now that he knows he has one that hasn’t already betrayed him, he’ll stop at nothing to have them.

HOTCH: What’s the address, Garcia?

GARCIA: Already sent it, sir.

The BAU rushes out of the conference room.

. . .

Maggie and Ray are sitting in his car. They’re watching the three children play - staking them out. Malcolm - their father, is nowhere to be seen. We’re to assume he’s at work while they’re at home.

RAY: You see the boy with the red hoodie? That’s Malcolm Jr. He’s the oldest. Same age as your boy. Then Evan is the middle child. He’s eight. But the baby - she’s my favorite. Her name is Ariel cause of her red hair. She’s six.

Maggie smiles for a split second before frowning.

MAGGIE: You don’t have to do this.

RAY: And I’m not. Because you will.

Maggie breaks her gaze from the children to look at Ray with shock.

MAGGIE: No, no, no I’m not kidnapping them. I won’t do it.

Ray retrieves his gun and points it at her stomach.

RAY: You had a chance to have your family with Elijah. But you gave him up. Now that I have a chance, you’re gonna help me.

MAGGIE: What if I don’t?

RAY: You’re smart. Figure it out.

MAGGIE: I will not be taunted with death if I don’t help you take someone else’s babies away. So go ahead, kill me. I’ve got nothing left to live for anyway.

A gunshot.

Standing in front of the car, is Malcom with his shotgun. The windshield is shattered by a single bullet that penetrated it. Malcolm fired a shot right through Ray’s head. Maggie is alive and in complete and total shock. Once Malcolm knows he’s dead he rushes to her door to help her.

MALCOM: You have to unlock it.

Maggie is forced to reach over Ray’s dead body and unlock the car. When she does, Malcolm helps her exit the vehicle. Maggie’s seen putting pressure on her stomach to stop the bleeding.

Within seconds of escaping, police SUV’s arrive. Spencer is the first to run out of the car.

Relief overcomes Maggie.

MAGGIE: Spencer!

She stops him before he can hug her.

MAGGIE: No wait! I’m bleeding.

Spencer ignores this and embraces her. Maggie sobs hysterically when he does.

MAGGIE: He . . . he killed my -

SPENCER: Shh, I know. I know. I’m here now, okay?

Neither of them pull away.

MAGGIE: Oh my god. I can’t believe you’re here. I knew I’d see you again.

SPENCER: Yeah, you did. You were right Mags.

These words make Maggie shut her eyes and smile.

Hotch approaches the pair from behind.

HOTCH: Miss Tate, there’s an ambulance here for you. Let’s get you to a hospital.

Maggie nods as Spencer helps her limp to a stretcher.

When she situates herself and is lifted into the back of the ambulance, Spencer turns to Hotch.

SPENCER: Can I -

HOTCH: Yes, yes, go. We’ll meet you there.

Spencer enters the back of the ambulance and sits beside Maggie as they ride to the hospital together.

MAGGIE: You’re coming?

Spencer nods and gives a small reassuring smile.

Another tear escapes her eyes as she smiles through the oxygen mask to thank him.

. . .

The entire team is seated in a waiting room. Spencer is standing up and pacing as he waits for the doctor.

A doctor soon enters.

DOCTOR: Is there a Spencer Reid?

Spencer comes over quickly.

SPENCER: That’s me.

DOCTOR: Come with me, sir.

Spencer follows the Doctor.

DOCTOR: Luckily, the lacerations didn’t travel far enough to do a significant amount of damage that would require surgery, but we did have to perform a blood transfusion due to the amount of blood she lost.

SPENCER: How’s the baby?

DOCTOR: It was too early to tell the sex of the baby before she miscarried. She’s awake now and has been asking for you.

SPENCER: Thanks.

The doctor leaves as soon as Spencer knocks on the door.

SPENCER: (quietly) Maggie?

Maggie’s face lights up when she sees him.

MAGGIE: Hey you.

Spencer pulls a chair closer to Maggie’s bedside to take her hand and kiss the back of it. She smiles as he does this.

SPENCER: How are you feeling?

MAGGIE: Is it possible to feel incredibly lucky and incredibly lucky at the same time?

Spencer gives her that small reassuring smile.

MAGGIE: I’ll be okay.

SPENCER: Good.

MAGGIE: I’m starting to regret not letting Tony take me home.

Maggie and Spencer share a laugh.

SPENCER: Yeah, I think you should let him drive you from now on.

MAGGIE: Yeah, you’re probably right, but I don't think I want to work there anymore. Or even live here for that matter.

SPENCER: I don’t blame you.

MAGGIE: I grew up here, but it doesn’t feel like home anymore.

SPENCER: Where are you thinking of going?

MAGGIE: Well, I completed my bachelor’s degree to become an English teacher, but I never applied to any schools. I think in my gut I knew I didn’t want a job to tie me down here, otherwise I’d never leave California - no matter how much I should. So realistically anywhere that’s offering positions to English teachers is ideal.

Hearing Maggie’s an English major doesn’t surprise Spencer.

SPENCER: You know, when I go back to D.C, I can find open teaching positions for you. Moving there would be a big change, but I think you’d feel safer at least.

MAGGIE: I think I would too. And I wouldn’t mind the change. Getting a couple thousand miles closer to you doesn’t sound so bad.

Spencer cheekily grins.

SPENCER: Yeah?

Maggie nods.

Hotch enters the room.

HOTCH: It’s time.

Reid nods and turns back to Maggie.

SPENCER: I’ll see you soon.

MAGGIE: Can’t wait.

SPENCER: Goodbye, Maggie.

He sits up and kisses her forehead. For a moment, he rests his forehead on hers. Maggie smiles when he does this little gesture.

MAGGIE: Thank you.

Spencer nods and shuts the door behind him when he leaves.

With a heavy heart, Spencer leaves the hospital.

. . .

On the plane back, everyone is asleep besides Spencer and Hotch.

HOTCH: How is she?

SPENCER: She’ll be okay, but I can’t seem to figure out why. I thought she’d be broken. And I think deep down she is, but when she smiles, she isn’t faking it.

HOTCH: “Sometimes the ones who have the brightest smiles are the ones who have known and endured deep darkness.”

SPENCER: Dodinsky. (the author of the quote)

. . .

It’s been a week since Spencer has visited Maggie, but he’s back now. Maggie is lying on her hospital bed, with Spencer entering her room. He hides something behind his back.

SPENCER: Knock! Knock! I brought you something.

MAGGIE: Oooh, fun!

Spencer pulls out headbands with the words “Fourth of July” in block letters.

SPENCER: Here.

He slides one on top of her head and puts the other on himself.

MAGGIE: What’s this for?

SPENCER: Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, we subconsciously link the tragic event with the date it happened on. It happens most often with death anniversaries, birthdays, or in your case, holidays. But I want to make the Fourth of July a good holiday again. So earlier, I asked the doctors if I could take you up to the roof to watch the fireworks.

MAGGIE: Spencer . . .

SPENCER: Humor me.

Maggie’s reluctant but she still reaches out her arms to have Spencer help her out of bed anyway. He wheels over the wheelchair to her and she groans.

MAGGIE: Are you actually gonna make me use that?

SPENCER: I mean, you’re welcome to walk around the hospital with your backless patient gown.

Maggie laughs and complies. Spencer begins to wheel Maggie out of her room and into the elevator that goes up to the roof. When they finally get there, Maggie’s face lights up. There’s a whole picnic set out for the two of them. A blanket with small fixings is laid out for them.

Maggie rises from the wheelchair and turns around to engulf Spencer in the biggest hug.

MAGGIE: Thank you. This is like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.

Spencer hugs her back even tighter. His hand is on the small of her back, and for a second he can feel her smooth skin, but like the gentleman he is, he tightly wraps Maggie’s hospital gown to cover her exposed skin. A small gesture that to Maggie, does not go unnoticed.

. . .

Maggie and Spencer's backs are lying flat against the blanket. They’re in the middle of a conversation where each of them are smiling.

SPENCER: JJ said that Henry wanted to dress up as his favorite profiler, and he came into the office as me. I even gave him my badge.

MAGGIE: That is adorable! I can’t wait to have kids and celebrate Halloween with them.

Spencer goes quiet, making Maggie realize what she said.

MAGGIE: Oh, gosh, sorry I did not mean for that to take a dark turn.

SPENCER: Do you want to talk about it?

Maggie pauses.

MAGGIE: Um, I mean, sometimes I get sad, but for the most part I’m okay. I think I’ve finally accepted that it happened. You know, I’m actually sort of relieved that I didn’t carry the baby full term, because could you imagine how complicated that would be? Yeah, it’s . . . it’s better this way. And I’ve always wanted a family, but if I had that sperm donor’s baby, I wouldn’t have a family, it’d just be me and the baby. But I want my child to grow up with a father, you know?

Yes, Reid does know. He wishes his father was around.

SPENCER: Yeah, I do.

MAGGIE: What about you? Do you want kids?

SPENCER: Absolutely. It’s funny because I always say that I could never picture myself leaving my job and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But if I had kids, they’d be the exception. I, uh,

Spencer lightly laughs and looks down.

SPENCER: Yeah, I don’t know, I just really want to be a dad one day.

MAGGIE: You’d be a really good dad. I mean that.

Originally, Maggie and Spencer were both looking up at the sky, but after Spencer turned his head and Maggie turned hers, their faces were only inches away. Spencer licks his lips as he contemplates kissing her. But he pivots. He smiles and kisses her forehead.

Simultaneously, a firework goes off, startling the duo. Maggie laughs in excitement.

SPENCER: Did you know that at MIT, one of the lessons they taught students earning their degree in chemistry was how to make a firework?

MAGGIE: You know how to make one? What do they use to make the colors?

SPENCER: Good question. To create certain colors, different physical elements are used. Magnesium creates a bright white light, like that one right there. While strontium and lithium each showcase a different shade of red, like the first one we saw. But the most dangerous colors to form, blues and greens, are formed from barium and copper.

Spencer’s explanation continues for a little longer. The view above the pair zooms out. They’re just two small people on the roof of the hospital.

. . .

Spencer is in his apartment. He’s on the phone with Maggie.

MAGGIE: So I’m looking at an apartment in Manassas right now. It’s only half an hour away from the school and it’s a 45 minute drive from your apartment.

SPENCER: You’re not very good at changing the subject, Maggie. Even now, I can read your body language.

MAGGIE: I’m not changing the subject. I’m just mentioning my other options that are unrelated to the one you proposed.

SPENCER: Wow, is the idea of living with me really that bad?

MAGGIE: No! I would love to live with you.

SPENCER: But?

MAGGIE: But you’ve already done so much. You’ve saved my life twice, visited me every week I’ve been in the hospital, made the Fourth of July fun again, and helped me find a great teaching job over there. So I am sincerely grateful, but moving in with you would feel like taking advantage of your good heart. You’ve done a lot for me already, okay? I can take care of myself from now on.

SPENCER: Okay, think of it instead as a mutualistic relationship. We both receive net benefits from moving in. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me because I’d be gaining something from it, too. I’d have a roommate and my rent would dichotomize. And for you, you’ll only be driving 15 minutes to work instead of 30.

MAGGIE: Did you ever consider being a lawyer? You’re quite convincing.

SPENCER: So is that a yes?

MAGGIE: It’s a “Yes I’ll move in with you but only if Plan A doesn’t pan out.”

SPENCER: Promise me you’ll think about it.

MAGGIE: Okay, fine. I’ll think about it.

SPENCER: Say it.

MAGGIE: I promise.

Spencer yawns. Maggie hears it.

MAGGIE: What time is it over there?

SPENCER: 11:54.

MAGGIE: Spencer! Why didn’t you tell me? You should’ve been asleep like two hours ago.

SPENCER: I’ll be fine. I don’t have to be at work until 7.

MAGGIE: You of all people know how bad it is to get less than 8 hours of sleep. I’m gonna hang up now so you can at least get 6.

SPENCER: Then I’ll call back.

MAGGIE: Then I’ll decline.

SPENCER: Fine, if I go to sleep, you have to agree to consider living with me as more than a Plan B.

MAGGIE: I already said I would!

SPENCER: Mmm no. I’m not really feeling it. You have to say it nicely.

MAGGIE: If you sleep now, I’ll consider living with you as more than a backup plan.

SPENCER: Music to my ears. Sleep well, Maggie.

MAGGIE: Sweet dreams, Spencer.

Spencer lets Maggie hang up. Let it be known, that he has never once ended a call.

. . .

It’s a few weeks later. Maggie’s finally out of the hospital. It’s official that she has the teacher job - no interview required thanks to Garcia. Currently, she and Spencer are packing the last of her things away into boxes in preparation for the cross country move she’s making tomorrow.

MAGGIE: I know I’m still a little fragile, but the doctor said I’m all clear to resume normal activities. So would you please let me help you with the boxes?

SPENCER: Mmm, I don’t think so.

MAGGIE: Need I remind you that I’ve been through worse than packing?

SPENCER: That would violate our designated jobs! I pack the boxes - you label them, remember?

Spencer picks up a book from her shelf and reads the spine of it. From the looks of how empty the bookshelf is, he’s been packing away the books this entire time they’ve been packing.

SPENCER: By the way, I love your book collection. Very diverse. But the way you’ve organized them is peculiar, though.

MAGGIE: What do you mean? Each shelf is categorized by genre.

SPENCER: No, I figured that out, but why not in alphabetical order? Cause, see, you have several books from Dickens, but they’re sporadic on your shelves. And again with Austen and Steinbeck, you have several of their books, so organizing by last name means that all the books by the same author would be together.

MAGGIE: Alright then, when I move, you can organize my bookshelf.

SPENCER: Sweet!

MAGGIE: I was joki-

Maggie notices that Spencer actually takes pleasure in organizing her books, so she refrains from saying she’s joking.

MAGGIE: Can I see a box? I forgot I have stuff on my fridge still to take down.

SPENCER: Here.

Spencer hands Maggie a box. Maggie begins to fill the box with her fridge magnets, postcards, and small reminders she put on her fridge. Only one picture is left on the fridge - a sonogram picture. Maggie had completely forgotten it was even there. But she drops the box immediately and pulls it off, placing it close to her chest.

SPENCER: You okay?

Maggie pauses for a moment cherishing the picture.

MAGGIE: Yeah.

SPENCER: What is it?

Spencer comes over.

MAGGIE: I thought I threw this away, but I guess I didn’t. It was my first sonogram.

SPENCER: Oh, from a few weeks ago?

MAGGIE: No - years ago. This is Elijah’s.

Maggie smiles when she sees the picture.

SPENCER: I think you should keep it - the picture I mean.

MAGGIE: Yeah, I think I might. I mean, if it’s stayed with me all these years, no sense in throwing it away now.

Maggie puts the picture at the top of the pile in the box.

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are on the plane heading to Virginia. Reid’s reading and Maggie is sorting through some papers with an earbud in one ear.

MAGGIE: Before we left, I contacted the landlord for that apartment in Manassas weeks ago, but he never got back to me.

SPENCER: I guess it’s a good thing you have a Plan B then.

Spencer smirks.

MAGGIE: Remind me again that we mutually benefit so I don’t feel so guilty that you’re constantly helping me but I can never find the opportunity to pay you back.

SPENCER: Stop it, okay. I want you to move in with me.

MAGGIE: I snore really loudly.

SPENCER: Completely okay.

MAGGIE: I take long showers.

SPENCER: Not a problem.

MAGGIE: Late at night, I’ll get random bursts of energy and get really hyper and bothersome.

SPENCER: So do I.

Maggie groans in frustration.

MAGGIE: I feel like you know the reason why I don’t want to move in with you, but even I don’t know why.

SPENCER: It’s quite simple actually. You’ve spent nearly a decade living alone. And because of that, you think you prefer isolation over having company. But in reality, you’re just scared. Because the last time you were surrounded by a lot of people, they eventually died, essentially abandoning you. And it might not seem like it, but I know exactly what that feels like. To be scared of abandonment.

MAGGIE: Really?

SPENCER: When I was three, my dad left me and my mom. And a year ago, my girlfriend was shot in front of me.

Maggie’s speechless.

SPENCER: You and I - we’re scared to let people in and get attached to them. The reason is because we’re afraid to suffer or let go. So, we think, in order to protect ourselves, we have to stay away from the people we’re getting attached to - which is hard because it is equivalent to avoiding the privilege of becoming happy. So we’re caught in the middle of which pain we’d rather endure - the pain caused by unhappiness and loneliness, or the pain that we know, nobody will ever be strong enough to stand against - the pain of letting go.

Maggie’s astonished.

MAGGIE: If our love could’ve saved them, they would’ve lived forever.

A tear rolls down Maggie’s cheek. Spencer uses the pad of his thumb to brush it away.

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are at the baggage claim of the Virginia Airport. Maggie yawns and leans into Spencer, who puts his arm around her and comfortingly rubs her.

SPENCER: Tired?

MAGGIE: Extremely.

SPENCER: We can get coffee on the way home.

MAGGIE: Are you reading my mind right now?

Spencer laughs.

Maggie sees her suitcase come through on the conveyor belt. Maggie lifts her baggage up, and they begin to exit the airport.

. . .

Spencer is driving and Maggie is in the passenger seat, trying to fight her sleepiness.

SPENCER: Tell me about your parents.

Maggie’s surprised by not unwilling.

MAGGIE: My mom’s name was Amina. She met my dad, Sonny, in college, and had me when she was 24, but he took off when she got pregnant. At first, I didn’t mind it just being the two of us, but when I was seven, there was a father-daughter dance at my school. I wrote him a letter inviting him to it. He didn’t show up, of course. Not that I really expected him to, but ever since then, I’ve resented him. My mom used to say that he was the reason why I dated Charlie. She said that I never got to see an example of what a good man looks like or how a girl should be treated. In hindsight, she was totally right.

SPENCER: How did she react to your pregnancy?

MAGGIE: Well, at first she said she was gonna slap Charlie, but she wasn’t even really mad at me. Instead, she just said that if I wanted to have a future and if I wanted the baby to have a good future, I should set up an adoption. Later that same year, she helped me file a restraining order on Charlie. My mom was always looking out for me. It felt like she always knew what the right choice was.

SPENCER: She sounds like a really good person.

MAGGIE: And she was. I just wish I told her that more often. Growing up, I thought one day I’d get a job and become rich enough to support the both of us. I’d even buy her a range rover - it was a car she wanted since forever. I never got to do that for her, but she used to say to me, “Some people are so poor, all they have is money.” And I think about that everyday. I was never spoiled or born with a golden spoon, but we were so rich in love. She loved me so much, that she’s the reason I wanted to have a baby. Just days after her death anniversary, I visited the clinic. It’s silly, but I just wanted to be half as good a mother as she was.

SPENCER: I feel the same way about my mom. I wanted to grow up and create a cure for schizophrenia by the time I was 29. And even though I’m far from doing so, I’m not giving up hope that I still can.

MAGGIE: Does she live here?

SPENCER: She’s in a facility in Vegas.

MAGGIE: Well, if I ever find myself in Nevada, I’d really like to thank her for raising the perfect son.

Spencer gaily smiles.

SPENCER: Would you maybe want to visit her with me one day?

Maggie nods.

SPENCER: You two would have a lot to talk about. She was a former professor of 15th century literature.

MAGGIE: Does she still hold lectures?

SPENCER: She does. I attended one of them years ago. It completely changed my perspective. I realized that I owe all of who I am today to her.

MAGGIE: Then we have to attend one of her lectures when we visit.

SPENCER: She’ll be so happy when I let her know.

Maggie and Spencer continue to talk about literature.

. . .

Now in a coffee shop, Maggie and Spencer are nursing their drinks at a table in the corner of the cafe.

MAGGIE: Earlier, we were talking about your mom a lot, but on the plane, we spoke about your dad leaving when you were really little.

SPENCER: Yeah, um, eventually he wrote a letter saying that he just didn’t know how to be a dad to me anymore. That and he couldn’t deal with my mom’s paranoid schizophrenia anymore.

MAGGIE: I’m sorry to hear that. I know it’s not easy growing up without a dad.

SPENCER: He’s partly the reason I want to have kids. I want to be the dad mine never was.

Maggie nods.

SPENCER: I’m not as mad as I used to be about it. Over time, I slowly stopped caring about him.

MAGGIE: As you should.

SPENCER: Um, we still have an hour before we’re home so-

MAGGIE: Yeah, no of course. Lemme just use the bathroom really quick before we go.

Maggie leaves her phone and her coffee cup at the table. Spencer sips from his drink but stops when he sees Maggie’s phone ringing. The call’s number has a familiar area code. Spencer instantly recognizes it from Manassas. He realizes that the caller is the landlord from the apartment in Manassas that Maggie said hadn’t gotten back to her. He looks at the bathroom and sees Maggie isn’t back yet, so he declines and deletes the call.

He wants Maggie to live with him, and knowing the landlord called her back would ruin any chances of that happening. And Spencer wasn’t taking any chances.

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are finally at his apartment. They’re climbing the flight of stairs, with Spencer carrying Maggie’s backpack for her - like a gentleman. When they reach his door, Spencer unlocks it and opens it for her to walk through first. In that same breath, confetti comes flying.

Maggie is startled by this, but comes to realize that the entire BAU is in his apartment. A banner hangs behind the team saying “Welcome!”

She laughs and goes to greet each of them.

JJ: I’m JJ.

Maggie shakes her hand.

MAGGIE: Maggie Tate. Nice to meet you.

MORGAN: Derek Morgan. I’ve heard a lot about you.

MAGGIE: All good things I hope.

HOTCH: Aaron Hotchner.

MAGGIE: Right of course. I remember you from the day you guys found me.

BLAKE: Alex Blake. Nice to finally meet you.

MAGGIE: Likewise.

ROSSI: David Rossi. Spencer’s Italian grandpa.

Maggie laughs and Rossi greets her by kissing each of her cheeks.

ROSSI: Got any Italian blood in you?

MAGGIE: Oh, I wish. Half Filipino, half Mexican.

ROSSI: A beautiful mix nonetheless.

Finally, Maggie meets Penelope. Before Maggie can even say anything, Penelope envelopes her in a huge hug.

MAGGIE: You must be Penelope!

She pulls away.

GARCIA: At your service.

MAGGIE: I really like your glasses. Cool color.

GARCIA: (to Spencer) I love her already.

Maggie returns to Spencer after all the greetings.

MAGGIE: Did you know they were gonna do this?

SPENCER: I might’ve.

Maggie turns back to everyone.

MAGGIE: I wish I would’ve known I was meeting you all, I would’ve worn something nicer than leggings and jet lag.

They laugh and tell her that it’s not a problem.

GARCIA: So we thought you guys might be hungry, so there’s chips and guac as well as other little snacks.

MAGGIE: It’s crazy, because I was craving just that.

Penelope gasps and smiles. She extends her arm for Maggie to wrap her arm around.

GARCIA: Well then let’s dig in.

Garcia leads Maggie arm in arm to the food. While Spencer draws back to set her things down. JJ waits up for him.

JJ: She’s pretty.

SPENCER: She is, isn't she? And she’s more than that, too. Everytime we talk, she never fails to surprise me with her wit or mind. She reminds me a lot of you.

JJ smiles as Spencer and her rejoin the group.

. . .

It’s almost the evening now, and Maggie and Spencer are bidding each guest goodbye. The last one to leave is of course Penelope. But when she does, Spencer and Maggie are alone again. Spencer shuts the door behind Garcia, and turns and presses his back to it and sighs. Maggie exhales too.

SPENCER: I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think this would last for as long as it did.

MAGGIE: No, no don’t apologize. I like spending time with them. I’m pretty sure Garcia’s energy cured my jet lag.

Spencer laughs and walks back to Maggie.

MAGGIE: I think I’m gonna go shower now. Try to wash off the flight from me.

Spencer nods and leads her to the bathroom.

SPENCER: Just turn this knob to the left if you want it hotter, and to the right if you want cold water. When you’re done just press down on this.

Spencer presses on the little knob, and when he does, the shower sprays him with water and sprays Maggie, too. She squeals and begins to laugh when she sees Spencer’s hair is drenched. It’s all stringy and in his face, so she pushes it back to see his smiling face. She leaves her hands around his cheeks, cupping his face.

MAGGIE: Well that’s one way to get wet!

SPENCER: Oh yeah? What’s the other?

The delivery of his innuedo is so subtly seductive. Maggie dismisses it and laughs instead.

MAGGIE: Um, just tell me where the towels are and I can bring you one to dry your hair.

He points her in the direction and Maggie promptly leaves the bathroom. When she does, Spencer sees himself in the mirror and realizes just how ridiculous he looks. But on the inside, he feels doubly ridiculous. He’s so embarrassed from what he just said that his cheeks turn red.

. . .

Spencer is cleaning up what was left of the welcoming party. He’s in the kitchen, when he hears Maggie exit the shower. Her hair is damp and stringy, and she’s drying it with a towel. Spencer notices the clothes she’s wearing. She has on sweatpants and to his surprise, his shirt.

MAGGIE: I forgot my pajamas were with the moving truck. I hope you don’t mind.

SPENCER: Not at all.

Maggie thanks him with a smile and walks a little more into the living room. She notices that the couch has a blanket and pillows on it.

MAGGIE: What is this?

SPENCER: What do you mean?

MAGGIE: Are you gonna sleep out here?

SPENCER: Yeah, why?

MAGGIE: No.

SPENCER: No what?

MAGGIE: No, you’re not sleeping on your couch in your own apartment. I won’t let you.

SPENCER: It’s fine really. I’ve slept on it before.

MAGGIE: Do you not want to share a bed?

SPENCER: No, it’s not about that. I just want you to have the bed to yourself.

MAGGIE: If anything, I should be sleeping on the couch because I’m a guest.

SPENCER: No, I’m serious. I’ll sleep out here.

MAGGIE: Okay fine.

Maggie dramatically flops onto the couch.

MAGGIE: Then I’ll join you.

Spencer sighs and shakes his head.

SPENCER: You’re really gonna sleep on the couch with me?

MAGGIE: Mhm.

SPENCER: Why are you being so stubborn?

MAGGIE: Why are you being so stubborn?

SPENCER: Are you just gonna repeat what I’m saying?

MAGGIE: Are you just gonna repeat what I’m saying?

SPENCER: You’re acting childish.

Spencer comes over to Maggie. He stands in front of her, towering over her small figure.

MAGGIE: You’re acting childish.

SPENCER: Stop repeating what I’m saying.

MAGGIE: Stop repeating what I’m saying.

SPENCER: I mean it, Maggie!

She shoots up from the couch and makes a grumpy face to imitate Spencer. Their bodies are so close.

MAGGIE: I mean it, Maggie!

Spencer takes the opportunity of their closeness and uses it to put his arms behind her back and swoop her up - bridal style. Maggie squeals and tries to squirm out of his arms, but he resists and carries her all the way into the bedroom. He tosses her onto the bed and starts to tickle at her sides.

MAGGIE: Stop! Stop!

Maggie’s laughing so hard, she’s breathless.

SPENCER: Not until you agree to sleep in the bed.

MAGGIE: I want to sleep on the couch with you!

SPENCER: Well I guess I’m gonna keep tickling you then.

Maggie laughs so hard she’s almost in tears. Suddenly, she sees a window of opportunity to escape. When she does she runs out into the living room. Spencer chases after her through the apartment. Maggie dodges some of his attempts to capture her, but is ultimately outrun by him. He gets her to fall flat on the couch as he hovers above her. Both of them are smiling and breathless.

SPENCER: You’re not gonna give this up are you?

Maggie shakes her head no.

SPENCER: Alright, I surrender. But if in the morning, you wake up and find that you’ve magically teleported to the bed after falling asleep on the couch, it wasn’t me.

MAGGIE: Deal.

. . .

It’s sometime late at night and Spencer has finished showering. Maggie’s traveling through his apartment and looking at everything closer. She notices he has a record player. And all the records are classical music.

MAGGIE: Interesting record collection. Beethoven, Mozart, and Bach. Why am I not surprised?

SPENCER: Am I that predictable?

MAGGIE: Just a little. Care if I try to expand your music taste?

Maggie pulls out her phone. After some scrolling and typing, she begins to play “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron. Spencer is unfamiliar with this song, but it’s abundantly clear Maggie loves it.

MAGGIE: Do you dance?

SPENCER: Oh, no, no.

MAGGIE: Just dance with me. I’ll teach you.

The song plays in the background as Spencer shyly approaches Maggie. Maggie puts one arm out and Spencer takes her hand. Then he timidly puts his hand on her back, but with confidence, Maggie slides his hand down to her waist. Maggie puts her hand on his shoulder. Promptly, Spencer and Maggie both peer down at their feet as Maggie leads the dance. She does the classic box step, and after fidgeting around, Spencer gets it.

MAGGIE: There you go. You got it!

They dance a little more.

MAGGIE: Do you think you can lead?

Spencer nods, and Maggie lets him lead. As the song reaches the chorus, Spencer finally gets his confidence. He doesn’t have to look down at his feet anymore. He finally looks at Maggie. To her surprise, Spencer spins her and dips her. They stay put in this position. Neither of them break eye contact.

MAGGIE: You sure you don’t dance?

Spencer sheepishly smiles and shakes his head. He brings her up from the dip. Maggie’s flustered from the thrill of dancing with him, so much so that she pulls away.

MAGGIE: So, did you um, did you like the song?

SPENCER: Yeah, I did.

MAGGIE: You know, that, that could be like our song.

SPENCER: Our song. Yeah, okay.

. . .

It’s the middle of the night now. Maggie is sprawled across the couch, asleep. Spencer is at the table reading. He only has one dim light on so as not to make it harder for Maggie to sleep with a bigger light on. He peers over the couch and sees that she’s sleeping so he picks her up and carries her bridal style again. When he lays her in the bed, she stirs and mumbles.

MAGGIE: (quietly) Spencer?

SPENCER: (whispering) Sorry, I was trying not to wake you.

MAGGIE: Can you just sleep in the bed? I don’t want you on the couch.

SPENCER: Yeah, yeah. I’ll sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep soon, but I’m just gonna be outside reading. Goodnight, Maggie.

Maggie’s already fallen fast asleep again. Spencer leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

As Spencer approaches the table, his reading material can be visibly seen. A thick stack of papers within a manila folder labeled “CONFIDENTIAL.” He opens it to resume reading the contents. On the very front, a scanned picture of a man’s driver’s license is paperclipped to another paper. The name on the driver’s license reads, “S.J Glover.” a.k.a Sonny Jr. Maggie’s dad.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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mizuritamanami · 4 years

Text

What Goes Unseen

Linked Universe Time Warriors and Legend angst to sort of fluff?

They all have secrets. That much is a given, and sort of hard to miss, given the way Four clams up when asked about his moods, how often Wild has to just... stop and leave and come back to himself when they pass ruins sometimes, or the way Twilight vanishes without a trace to go off doing Hylia only knew what.

And that wasn't even touching on the walking enigmas Time and Legend could be, so sure. They all have their secrets. Even bubbly Wind and soft spoken Sky. Secrets, secrets everywhere, in plain view or otherwise.

But something about Wild’s Hyrule has been eating away at Warriors for weeks. Enough that Legend has even noticed his change in mood, his disinterest in most of the things he normally jumped at.

Enough that the veteran adventurer surprises him by pulling him aside to talk in the guise of a patrol, enough that he wears Warriors down with enough pointless questions that the knight just explodes to ask him what the hell it is he wants.

"Somethings been on your mind for almost a month. You're starting to scare the old man," Legend says bluntly, "I didn't think you could top that "launch tree into bokoblin camp and rain fire from above" heart attack you gave him, but here we are. What gives?"

For a moment, Warriors just stares at him, because firstly, how dare he insinuate that that plan hadn't worked perfectly outside of the landing, and secondly, since when did you pay that much attention to me?

He huffs.

"I'm fine."

"Uh. No."

Worth a try, anyway, Warriors thinks, turning away from the scrutinizing eyes of the young man across from him.

Legend notes the way his fingers dig into the blue cloth around his neck, and sighs, gesturing to a fallen log.

"Sit," he says, "tell me whats bothering you. If its got you like this, it warrants a serious talk, without pretense."

"Didn't know you knew such fancy words."

"Don't make me take it back and kick you in the shins."

Warriors has to laugh at that at least a little, so he sits, as instructed, and watches Legend plop unceremoniously into the mix of leaflitter, pine nettles, and flower petals on the forest floor.

He's still fidgeting with the scarf, and the words come slowly at first, then frantic and almost angry.

"My mother used to tell me, you know.... that there are stories, in the absences. In what we don't see. And- the more I look around, the more I see you- all of you- in Wild's Hyrule. Goddess, you're all everywhere.... but-.... out of the nine of us, there are only eight call backs. Even Wild's got his own legends already. So I can't help but wonder--..."

"Where you are."

"Where I went! What happened? Did- did I fail, somehow? Did I do something wrong? There's nothing left that says I ever even existed!"

"You existed to us. To Wild, to me, and Time, and Twi and the others. Between all of us, there's no denying that you were here."

Legend realizes belatedly that he's only just barely fended off a fit of sobs from the knight, and counts himself lucky and also gives himself a brownie point or three for the save, just before he recognizes the familiar thwacking and tramping of bronze armor against offending tree branches and leather boots on forest floor somewhere behind him.

He feels the heat come through his voice before he can stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

"Besides, you didn't completely fuck a timeline, then leave another to Ganon for seven whole years, now did you? Too busy cleaning up other people's messes."

Time froze as his foot settled on the line of the clearing they were in, and the pregnant silence in the moment it took him to school his voice into something normal made Warrior's skin crawl it was so uncomfortable.

"..... T-There you boys are.... Twilight was--.... he was getting worried. I'll tell him you just .... stopped for a break."

He turned on his heel in a perfect about face that made Warriors knight-side a little jealous, but the rest of him looked to Legend, who was avoiding the direction Time had gone entirely. Realization dawned a moment after.

"......... that was cruel, Legend..... I didn't want you to make me feel better if you were just going to tear him down. Or tell his secrets."

"...... if I'm honest Wars? That last jab was more for my sake than yours."

"What?"

"Whose timeline do you think his failure ruined?"

The sharp intake of breath on Warriors part told Legend he'd picked up on all the appropriate cues.

".... that's one of my secrets, for spilling his to you, I guess. I don't know if I'm ever gonna be able to forgive him. But hey, since when has Hylia ever cared what we thought? Probably hasn't since Sky...... the point is, you aren't a failure for having to pick up after everyone else, and then not getting thanked for it. You're like that with all of us, too. Constantly doing things hoping someone will at the least notice. I noticed. All of us have. You're a goddamn hero, same as the rest of us, and the only reason your scarf isn't locked up in a chest out here somewhere is probably because you wouldn't part with that thing if it cost you your freaking soul or something. Duh."

Its quiet for a moment, and Warriors takes the time to look down at the blue around his neck a moment before smiling.

"..... you should apologize to Old Father Time.... but you're right. I guess its still all in the things you don't see at first glance- I never would have thought you a confidant. You might find out some interesting things about him if you sat like you did with me."

"Id rather eat one of Wild's disgusting potions made out of butterflies and lizalfos."

"Don't jinx yourself, Vet."

"Shut up."

~~~~~

Legend was going to murder Warriors.

Don't jinx yourself my ass, you set this up, you sorry-- he cut his own thoughts off to hiss under his breath.

Not only was Legend laid up with Time looking out for him as first watch, but he'd had to drain four of those nasty freaking potions.

"I hate. Lightning. So much."

Normally, that would have earned him a chuckle, or at least a sympathetic hum.

But Time just turned his head towards a darker section of the underbrush that Legend knew for sure he absolutely could not see anything in.

Was it the being ignored or the uncertainty and hurt in Time's expression that made his stomach twist?

"I said--"

"I heard you, Legend. I'm sorry, I didn't think you wanted to speak to me."

"...... oh..."

The simple acceptance of Legend's earlier ire pulled all of the heat right out from under him, and he deflated some into his bedroll.

"........ I am sorry.... I know it doesn't mean much to you, but... I am. Even the sword didn't think I was good enough, and judging by your reaction, it was probably right."

Legend winced.

"What kind of bullshit cop-out is that? The sword doesn't make you a damn hero, it just points and grabs like a stupid claw game."

"Success, does, then. And that is a baton I clearly didn't pass to you, that I missed out on passing down peace..... it eats at me, some nights when I can't sleep, that I still managed to grasp at straws and hold so tight to so much good that I got to keep it. And I doomed you. I have everything and you were left wanting."

Legend stared at his back, the way he bent around the biggoron sword leaning into his right shoulder to be drawn if need be by his left hand.

"Im afraid I'm going to lose it all one day because I failed you so badly."

"I'm not that pitiful."

"Legend-"

"Look, I'm fine--"

"What was her name, Legend?"

The air left Legends lungs in a sudden, sharp breath.

"..... That's what I thought..."

"...... you were ten, if that..... yes, it sucks, and time travel is a pain, but you were fucking ten. Hylia sent a ten year old, let his tree mentor die right in front of him, and then continued to traumatize- REPEATEDLY traumatize- a child. Yes, I'm angry. Bitter and jaded, even. But don't you dare get so self important that you start thinking the blame fits on your shoulders. You're an old fucking man, not a god."

"Interesting choice of words...."

"No. No, because you're just gonna start unloading more trauma. If this is about that creepy mask, then no. That doesn't count either!"

"You're awfully concerned about this particular issue.... alright, I'll let it drop--"

"No, you ten year old little brat in a mentally fifty year olds achy jointed body, you're gonna go the fuck to sleep and stop moping. Its my turn to take watch and I'll be damned if I have to sit up watching you get all weepy into your pillow and trying to snitch Wild's slate to call your wife at two in the goddamn morning. Go to bed!"

Time stared at him in surprise, (the ten year old in him in question seriously debating biting the finger wagging in front of his nose) before Legends phrasing hit him.

"Oh, I’m going to absolutely kill Warriors for telling you about how I was when we met."

"Brat! Bed! Bounce to it, bunny hat kid!"

"You are the last person--"

"Bed!"

"Alright! Alright! Fine! You're lucky I don't fit those masks anymore," Time muttered, picking himself up off the stump to go peel off his armor and crawl into his bedroll. He was silent as Legend pulled himself into the space he'd emptied, then sighed and smiled.

"..... thank you, Vet."

"Yeah yeah yeah. Go to sleep before you wake up Twilight. He has ears like a fucking wolfhou---....... oh my goddess you're kidding me."

"Shhh."

"Goddess I hate you sometimes."

Warriors, apparently woken by the hissing through Legends teeth, chuckled to himself.

Its all in the things you don't see, I guess, he thinks.

Secrets secrets, everywhere, but.... together, we're all still here for each other. I can live with that.

"Good night bratty bunny and feral bunny."

Two furious choruses of "HEY!" were the perfect lullaby for Warriors to drop right back off to sleep.

Yeah...

He could definitely live with that.

#linked universe #linked universe time #linked universe legend #linked universe warriors #warriors and legend have a talk about what's missing from wilds hyrule #with a dash of time angst

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uwukechi · 4 years

Note

shuake and/or pegoryu for the ship thing uwuwu

001: Shuake/Akeshu

when I started shipping it if I did:

Honestly? Right from the get-go. I saw Goro at the TV station and when he opposed the Phantom Thieves but immediately took an interest in Akiren, and Akiren reciprocated that interest and there was no outward negativity expressed (by either Akiren or Morgana) towards their relationship, it was basically greenlit in my head. This was back in vanilla -- but the rest of the game, AND Royal, definitely just made it go stronger. The main reason was the fact that they could intellectually stimulate and interest the other with no ill will or malice, and that they both seemed to enjoy it.

my thoughts:

First of all, there’s the entire rivalry thing which I LOVE.

The whole concept of healthy rivalries always appeal in a relationship dynamic to me, because 1) they don’t “bore” each other due to the fact that there’s always going to be something keeping their interest up in a competitive way, 2) there’s no power imbalance due to the fact that the basis of any rivalry is that they are equals, and 3) both people in the relationship will always be striving to become better not for the other person, but because of the other person. Look at it this way:

There’s “I want to be the best version of myself to make you happy,” which is pretty much any other relationship dynamic that enforces self-betterment.

THEN, there’s rivalmance, which is, “I want to be the best version of myself because you motivate me to want to become a better person for myself,” which just honestly strikes a chord with me, mainly because it means that the relationship isn’t about pandering to one another, but about two people who can go up head-to-head, bare their souls and give each other everything they’ve got, and still come out stronger and happier than when they went in.

It’s exactly this in shuake that appeals to me so much -- that, of course, and the fact that they genuinely care about the other for who the other is, and not for anyone else. It’s especially blatant when you think about the fact that they both mirror each other in so many ways -- they both put on so many masks for the public and everyone around them; they’re both wildcards; they’re designed to mirror the other -- anyway, that list goes on for days.

The fact of the matter is that they can honestly, truly understand each other. There’s a saying -- “it is when dressed for a masquerade where you are most naked” -- that I think fits them really well. Their whole confidant route explores the many layers to their relationship and how they can fully understand the true depth of what the other means by using the guise of casual conversation as metaphor for the truth. Which you’ll know I obsess over if you’ve seen my post on their third confidant rank in Royal or small potatoes.

Oooops, that got a little long...

And of course, to no one’s surprise.

What makes me happy about them:

can’t i just say “everything” and be done with it

Okay but in all seriousness, I absolutely love how they’ve found someone so special for themselves in each other. Their relationship is so valuable to them, so important and meaningful that it’s truly something I think is precious. And that’s not even taking into account how much they would consider doing (and sacrificing) for the other if need be. Hell, Goro entrusts Akiren with his life mission (taking down Shido to let him rot) before intending to give up his own life in the engine room, and Akiren is given the absolutely heartrending choice to choose between Akechi or the world. The fact that it’s such a hard choice to make in and of itself is testament to how much it means. The fact that 2/2 exists is testament. The fact that Goro’s third awakening takes place at Leblanc, with Akiren, every little detail. They just. they mean so much to each other and that’s honestly one of the things that really makes me happy.

What makes me sad about them:

Nothing in particular about their relationship saddens me, per se? Like, they truly make me and each other happy by virtue of just being there. That’s not to say that their circumstances aren’t impressively saddening -- just take Proof of Justice, for example. The only thing that saddens me about their relationship is the tragedy of their circumstances: “If only we had met a few years earlier”? That hit. Well written angst is the best variant.

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

When. Akiren. is. mean-spirited. to. Goro. or. vice. versa. It’s just...not them? Like, Akiren knows what Goro’s been through, and seeing people write him making fun of Goro with the Phantom Thieves as anything further than light/playful teasing just makes me wince because it’s... cruel. Similarly, Goro’s a prick, yeah, but he’d never really go so far as to be needlessly cruel to Akiren and enjoy it for the sake of it. It’s just...blegh. I don’t like it.

things I look for in fanfic:

DYNAMIC! If any fic really nails their dynamic I absolutely adore it. The edge of competition, the proud and encouraging taunts, the innate bond and trust? Gimme that sweet sweet RIVALMANCE. The “do I hate you or do I hate what how you make me feel?” The “I want to get my feelings across but saying them would make it real and make it matter, so I’m going to layer it within thousands of metaphors and hypotheticals that I know you’ll understand regardless, but as long as I don’t let myself falter with my goal, it’s fine”

Ahem.

Basically I like them pining/trying to one-up each other and just generally relishing being in the other’s presence.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

GOD this is a hard one because I don’t really ship either of them with anyone else? I know for Goro there’s been a lot of akesumi stuff going around but that really isn’t my cup of tea, so for Goro I’d prooooobably go with Yusuke because akekita is cute, lol. I will say that I headcanon Akiren as massively bi and I’d be willing to settle for shuann but I don’t really see them romantically? Like, bi solidarity and that’s all? OH though I wouldn’t mind Akiren with Hifumi; that’s a cute ship too!

My happily ever after for them:

They’re happy as long as they’re together, in my heart. Given both of their characters I think they both do like the fast-paced life that keeps them stimulated, but they can only properly slow down when they’re with each other, just because of how well they truly understand each other and knows what the other needs. Their happily ever after is honestly just them being together, because home is where the heart is.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Real talk, they snuggle together and both kind spoon each other? Other than that they alternate between big and little spoon, depending on whose trauma is affecting them. Akiren claims to be the big spoon more often because he likes believing that he’s able to comfort Goro when confronted in his darker moments and be there to protect him and assure him that things aren’t gonna hurt him anymore, but Goro ends up being the big spoon a lot more frequently because Akiren takes up too many people’s problems and gets stressed out over them without dealing with his own issues first, so Akiren frequently needs to be reminded that he has someone to protect him too, and Goro’s more than glad to be able to fill that role, to be able to help heal instead of hurt.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

Anything, so long as it’s competitive! As long as they can aim to compete with the other or one-up the other, it’ll be absolutely engaging for the both of them, whether it’s a debate, a game of chess, battleships, darts, pool, baseball batting in Yongen-Jaya, or playing tennis. Just let them compete and get passionate about it, and they’ll both have the time of their lives. Seriously.

Ask post here!

(I’ll do pegoryu next for you, anon, in a separate post!)

#ask me(me)#shuake #akeshu #persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #vague p5r spoilers #goro akechi #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #this is my absolute favourite ship of all time so i have a LOT to say about it lol #emmaski analysis

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abuckyproblem · 3 years

Text

What’s His Name?

Summary: Bucky helps you out. But then you discover he has paying too much atention on you.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Warnings: mention of sexual abuse (nothing graphic), mention of financial problems, a mom and daughter family, reader being awful (for a little), fluff, angst, self loathing and Bucky calling the reader doll (that is a warning to me).

A/N: I just had this on my mind. English is not my first language so I’m pretty sure mistakes were made. Sorry in advance.

Words: 4,4k.

"C'mon Rogers, pick up!" You think as the telephone rings by the 10th time. It isn't your style to look for help, but this time you really need it. And even if you two aren't the best of friends, you know you can count on him. Well, everybody knows they can count on Captain America. - "Hello?" A voice you don't recognise answers. - "Who is this?" Tonight really isn't your luck night, you can't catch a break. - "Barnes. You?" Really can't catch a fucking break. You don't need a man that doesn't even look in your eyes, you need someone that you can trust. - "Oh, hi Barnes. It's (y/n). Can I speak with Rogers, please? It's important." - "Steve isn't here. He went off to some vacation time with Sharon and left his phone with me. He won't be back until tomorrow night." - "Fuck." With all the chaos that had happened you forgot about this. - "What you need, (y/l/n)?" No way you are going to tell Bucky Barnes what just happened. You know eachothers for months now and never shared a word. Not gonna happen.

- "Nothing. Thanks, bye." While you are putting the payphone back on the hook you hear him saying something but that doesn't stop you. So you just nod to the police officer besides you and follow her back to the cell on the precinc. You consider calling some other friend of yours, but you know that this would open a lot of scars to a lot of people if it gets out. So no. You got this. Looks like a night behind bars is coming your way. Definitely not your luckiest night.

--------- You are lie down on the metal bench of the cell trying to calm yourself down when an officer calls your name and yells that your bail has been paid. - "What? Who paid my bail? Nobody knows I'm here." You asked. - "He is waiting for you, go see for yourself."

Right after you cross the door you see him. Pure beauty and indifference. Bucky Barnes. Him and his usual look, jacket and gloves, so not a peak of his vibranium arms shows. In a sec your mind understands what he did. You don't even stop, just keeps walking, needing to get ouf of this place. When you feel the wind in your face and the smell of Manhattan you are able to stop and take a deep breathe for the first time in hours. So you just stand there, eyes closed, trying to take the entire city within your breath. Most people hate the smell of big citties, but you love it. It remembers you of all your teenage dreams. Bucky just stop by your side. The man really like his silence. - "Traced the number?" Is the first thing you say. - "Hmm." Is all he answers. - "How much I owe you for the bail?" - "Wanna tell me what the hell were you thinking knocking out three guys in a bar?" Well, looks like the man can form a sentence if he wants to. You look at him, right in those blue gorgeous eyes of his. You have so much anger in yours that not even the champion of stares can hold your glance. - Look man, I know you did a nice thing and all, but I did not ask you to do that. So thank you, I really appreciate it, but that does not mean I owe you an explanation or anything. And yeah, you probably don't deserve me being a bitch to you, but, right now, that is all can I can give. So I'm sorry, but excuse me. And you go off, walking without direction in the middle of the night. If you had looked back you would have seen only concern in those ocean eyes.

--------- While you enter the room in the next mornig you know you are fucked. The voice message that Tony left you telling you to come to the tower first thing made it very clear that he wasn't happy. So all you can do now is trying to keep your head straight and keep your patience. Tony, Bucky, Nat and Hill are in the conference room waiting for you. Your eyes crosses paths with Bucky's and he says "I didn't told him", shrugging his shoulders. You just nodded in response. - "And we are gonna talk about that latter, James. But firsts things first:" Tony said, turning to you "explain this" doing that thing he does with his phone and putting up a video in the middle of the room. There it is. What had pissed you off so much last night. The surveillance camera got the whole thing. You, on the bar, having a pint on your own when a guy sits by next to you. Trying to get to close. You avoiding him the best way you can. He putting a hand in your knee. You calmly taking his hand and putting on the balcony, and then you trying to get up. He putting the same hand on your thight as you were standing up and trying to pull you to his lap. You taking his hand and breaking every finger on it. He falling from the pain. Another guy trying to hit you. You kicking him in the balls with your ankle boots, and then he was in the floor, clearly screaming. The bartender trying to grab you from behind the bar. You punching him so hard in the face that he passed out at the spot. Every other costumer of that shit hole running for the exit. You trying again to leave. The first guy recovering, grabbing a beer bottle and trying to hit you from behind with it. You showing that all that training every day for years realy payed off being able to, not only, escape from his attack but taking the bottle from his hand and breaking it in his face. Then the cops getting there. You putting both your hands up and letting them arrest you. That was it. Tony just looks back at you. "So?" - "So what? I think it's clear as water what happened. The only thing missing is the audio so you could hear me saying to thar creep that if he touched me again I would break every finger of his hand. I'm a woman of my word." Nat lefts escape a small laugh. - "Nothing funny about this!" Tony is really angry "You are an avenger, (y/n)! You can not use your powers on civillians." - "I didn't use my powers!" You cut him off, because if there is one person entitle to feel angry, that person is you. "I just used my fight abilities. Anyone with a little bit of training could have done that." - "That doesn't matter! You are not responsible for just you know, everything you do can splash on the team!" - "Nobody knows I'm an avenger, Tony! That is the point of me wearing a mask. So I'm just suppose to let the man put his hand on me for the good of the fucking team?" - "That is not what I'm saying, (y/l/n)." - "What the fuck are you saying then, Tony? Because it sounds that you are pissed at me for defending myself from a criminal. That man should be behind bars, not me! Yeah, we are the avengers, we fight aliens and big guns, but a woman in distress? Whatever! You know what? I'm not having this. Have you thought that I'm probably not the first woman that this man does that? I would bet my money that he does that shit every week. And most of the girls out there can't defende themselfs. So good chances that he made a lot of woman go home crying. Why am I the only one that cares about that?" You can feel your tears coming. "Fuck you, Tony. Fuck all of this." You need to leave this place, so that is what you do. So much for keeping your patience.

----- Two blocks away from the tower and you notice that he has been following you. The angry in you is making your bad at your job. If this was a normal day you would've noticed him in two seconds. Well, maybe not him, Bucky isn't a world renowned spy/soldier for nothing. Not one word before yesterday and now it seems that the man can't leave you be. So you just stop and turns around, letting him know you made him. He doesn't stop walking your way, just slows down a little. When he gets to a hearing range you ask "Tony put you up to this? Made you follow me? I'm not going to ruin the team's name, you can be sure of that" - "You think that Stark can boss me around?" No, you don't. He stops a few feet away from you. - "So what the hell are you doing? He look at you, straight in your eyes. What's that expression on his face? Is it sadness? After a few moments he asks you, shifting his feet. - "What's the name of the guy that hurted you?" Your heart freezes. - "He didn't hurt me, Barnes. He tried to, just that. You saw the video. And I don't know his name". - "I'm not talking about last night. I'm asking about the one that actually succed in hurting you". Impossible. He doesn't know about this. Only two people know, yours oldest friends, and they would never tell nobody. - "I don't know what you are talking about it". He sighs. Yes, that is sadness you are seeing. - "I notice that you cringe when I get close to you. If it was only with me I would get it, but then I saw you having the exact same reaction when Sam, Tony.. any man that comes close to you. Even Steve, and Steve doesn't scare anyone, he is the best man on the land. That and what you did last night, the things you just said in the conference room.... It doesn't take a genius to know that one plus one equals two." You are on the edge of a full collapse. You don't even know what shocks you the most right now: that Bucky Barnes has been paying this much attention to you or that he cares enough to confront you about it. Or the fact that your trauma is so exposed. You thought that it was behind you. Obviously it isn't. - His name doesn't matter. He is in the past. You feel like screaming your lungs out and crying, but Bucky is right there looking at you, so you don't do that. Instead you kick the trash can that is besides you. And kick. And kick. And you imagine is the face of that horrible man. The face you would never forget. So you punch it. But without releasing your powers. You don't want Tony to be mad. The trash is all on the street now. You hear Bucky telling the people on the street to just keep walking, that there isn't nothing to see in there. And you keep on punching the trash, the street, anything. You just keep punching until your pain takes you out completely and you fell on your knees, in the middle of the garbage, tears falling out. And you just cry. You feel someone picking you up from that chaos and you hear bucky's voice "c'mon doll, you don't deserve to be in the trash. lets take you out of here". He puts you up, but support you with his arm. He begins to walk and your legs start to copy his move. You lost track of time, but one moment you regain control of yourself. Bucky realises that and stops, letting you to try to stand on your own. - "You okay, doll?" You never imagined that you would like being called a doll. You are not a doll, you are a person, with her own mind. But the way Bucky says it makes you feel warm and safe. Falling from his lips you like it. - "Am I smelling like trash?" Is the first thing that came in your mind and the moment the words were out you regreted. Who says things like that? Who says things like that in front of the sexiest man alive? You should go home, take a shower and stay in bed for the rest of your life. But that question makes Bucky give out a little laugh, and that helps you feel okay. - "No, you smell great as you always do. I didn't let you be around the trash for that long. But again, are you okay, doll?" - "Yeah. Twice in two days that someone rescue me. That is not normal for me. Thank you, Barnes. With all my heart, thank you". - "Twice in two days and you still don't call me by my name." He scoffs. And that makes you smile. - "Thank you, Bucky!" He sees your little smile, and that make him let go of the tension he had been carrying around since you called Steve's phone last night. - "You're welcome." You start to look around and discover that you are in the corner of 54st and 5th. You don't remember how you got there, but it's not that far from the tower, so he didn't had to carry you for long. An ideia pass your mind. Doing something that always cheers you up. And the super soldier is still looking at you, trying to understand what to do next. - "Look, I thought of something that will help me now. So, again, thank you Bucky! Really! For everything. I will never forget this. If you can please just keep my secret between us, I would appreciate it." - "Of course, doll. I will never tell anyone. You good? I know you aren't, but.... are you?" -"I will be. Don't worry." -"Do you want some company? On the thing that will help you?" You smile. That would've been fun. -"No need, Bucky. You have done enough." -"I didn't ask if there was need, I asked if you want it." Man, nothings passes the Winter Soldier, does it? -"Only if you promess you won't judge". -"I would never". The truth is you judge yourself a little" -"Let's see" and you start to walk down 5th avenue.

---- When you get to the corner of 50st and 5th you stop turns to him, because you need to explain. Hell, the man already knows your biggest secret and stood by you, what is this in comparison? -"Okay, so let me just tell you something" You are feeling better already, the four blocks with Bucky on your side, without saying a word helped you to find yourlsef again. "I grew up on a town that had nothing to do. Nothing. My family is just my mom and me, and she worked from 8 to 8, monday to friday. But in the weekends we always went to the mall in the next town. It was our thing We used to go the movies, ate at McDonalds, and eye shopping since we didn't had money to buy anything. All those beautifull things we couldn't had. And that stuck with me. I know it sounds kinda sad, but it isn't. So now when I feel down and homesick I go eye shopping too, but with better options. Now I don't see small town stores, now I see clothes that are almos art, so incredible they belong in a museum." Bucky had listening to every word you said like his life deppend on it, but when you were over he starts to look around until he understands. He left an "Oh no" escape. Of course he knows where he is, growing up in New York. This place has been out here even before he was born, and that is a lot. - "Oh yeeeees" you start to laugh at his face. "But for real now, you don't have to do this. I'm okay. Espeacilly here. I know this place better than my own house, and I would never lost my temper in front of high luxury brands." You are actually wishin real bad tha he stays, but you can't ask him that. He had done way too much already, and he doesn't owe you anything. - "Will you believe me if I tell you I never put a foot on this place, babydoll?" Babydoll now? What is this? And why you get butterflies hearing Bucky say it? - "Ok, I can't let this goes on. Lets go inside!" And you star to make these stupid little jumps you do when you are happy as you move towards the Saks, without realising. And again you don't look back, but if you did you would see the most mesmerizing smile on the most handsome man. He follows you and meets you by the entrance. Saks is like Disney for you. All the wonder, the magic. And that shows in your face. Bucky notices it. The way you are happy in here. He wishes you could be happy like this with him, but you would never guessed that. - "So now I know where you spend all your money" Bucky says, whitout even realising it. He just wanted to be a part of this. Be a part of one happy memory of yours, not only police stations and trash. - "Nah, like I said, it's eye shopping. I'm pretty basic when comes to clothes. There is a difference between what you think it looks good on others and what fits you. You know? But I admit, the shoes are tempting." Bucky didn't know. He thinks that everything fits you. You two just kept walking in the store in a comfortable silence, just looking it. You looking at everything and Bucky looking at you. You are completely on your space, just being. Until you start to miss something. His presence. Where is Bucky? You start to look for him, retracing your steps, and find him looking at a killer McQueen leather jacket. -"You should go for it. It would look perfect on you" You say, unable to resist. You weren't lying. That combination would leave all the women in the the state of New York staring at Bucky. Like that doesn't happen already. -"Did you see the price on this thing? This is absurd" You sighed. Sometimes he does shows his age. - "It's a McQueen. If you treat her well, your kids could inherited her. That is the thing with these types of clothes, they can outlive you, and they never losw their vallue, and their are never out of style". - "I'm 106, doll. I don't think a jacket can outlive me". That makes you burst untill full laugh, Bucky following along. Not because he thinks he's funny, but because if you laugh, he laughs. And in this moment he starts to understand that. A noise from your phone takes both of you out off your the laughing transe. You take it off your pocket and sees a message from your therapist saying a spot just opened up and asking if you could meet her in 30 minutes. You had forgotten that you asked her if you two could meet when you left the conference room. It seems like days ago. You were loving your time with Bucky, but you know you need this, so you texted her back saying that you would be there. - "Sorry Bucky, I have to go. I can't thank you enough for what you did." -"Everything okay?" Now you can see the look of concern in his face, and you don't know how to react to that. - "Yeah, yeah. My therapist just texted me to say that she can see me in half an hour. But it's all the way back in Brooklyn, so I should be going. I'm really sorry to leave you here with her, the perfect jacket, but I know I need this now". - "No problem, you should do whats best for you" - "Thanks, Bucky" you say, laying a sweet kiss on his cheek. Where this came from? You have no idea, but you are too tired too care. So you go, leaving the greatest man you have ever meet, in one of your favorite places. You are almost at the escalator when hear him saying something. - "It's working for you?" Bucky asks, but you don't really understand. -"Sorry?" - "Therapy. Does it work for you?" - "Oh yeah. I mean, I know I've been awful since yesterday but, believe me, if I didn't go to therapy I would have done something way worst than destroying a trash can and crying on top of garbage. Why are you asking this, Bucky?" - "Oh, nothing". You aren't as good as him when it comes to reading people, but even you could spot that lie. - "So now you know two of my secrets, but you won't tell me the truth? Really, Barnes?" He sighed, looking to the floor. Did you say something wrong? You were almost apologising when he gave you his honest answer. - "I've been doing some mandatory therapy, but I don't see a lot of results". You didn't know him very well, but you knew enough to feel important when he spoke this truth to you. Bucky Barnes is not a man that tell his hearth truths to anyone. That makes you bring in your A game. He helped you so much in those last hours, you want to do the same to him. - "Have you talked to your therapist about it? Because the way I see it, everybody needs a therapist. You, me, everybody in this store, in this block, in the fucking planet. Everybody. But, you see, everybody is different. Which means everybody have different responses to different therapies. That's why that are so many of styles. Because what may work for me, may not work for you. So, be honest with your therapist and with yourself. Maybe he/she can change some things and you get a better response. Just don't give up. You deserve to be happy, Bucky. You deserve to let go of your past and start a future you can be really proud off." As you were saying the words you saw Bucky getting uncomfortable, and when you told him he deserves to be happy you saw as he rooled his eyes so much that all the blue got lost to the white. - "You are giving me too much credit, doll." -"Why?" - "I don't think happiness is stored for me" - "Well, I'm sure off it. Do you wanna know why?" - "Why?" - "You were on the carnival on Coney Island last month, weren't you?" He wasn't expecting that. - "What?" - " Yes or no?" - "Yeah, I was, but what that has to do with anything?" - "I saw you, Bucky. I saw you winning the biggest stuffed bear for that little kid that was trying for so long but wasn't able to hit all the marks. I saw you just going there, winning and then giving your prize to the kid with a wink. I saw that. I also saw you helping people with their aim at the shooting range at the tower. I also saw you filling up the groceries list with everyones favorites so it never ran out. and I also saw you following a girl that had been so rude to you the day before because you wanted to know if she was alright. And you did that thinking nobody was noticing. Without expecting any kind of rewards. You just did it because you are good. And people like you are rare. And people like you deserve to be happy." He had the biggest shocked look at his face when you finished talking. Yeah, Bucky, you weren't the only one paying attention. You were gonna loose your appointment if you didn't leave soon, but there was just one more thing you needed to say. - "Still on earth, Bucky?" - "I'm listening, doll." - "Before, you told me that you thought it was okay if I cringe by your approximation. I would never. And nobody thinks about you this way anymore. Only yourself Stop thinking these things of yourself. Please." And with that, you were gone, leaving Bucky without words, planted in the middle of Saks. It took him quite some time to move.

_____ Waking up the next morning Bucky could not stopping thinking about you. Were you okay? Did the encounter with your therapist help you? When he was gonna see you again? What was the name of the guy? He was gonna kill him. Yesterday night Stark called a meeting with everyone. Steve had already arrived from his off days, so everybody was present. Something had changed since that morning because now Stark were deffending you and was asking for a manhunt to find that guy from the bar. Bucky hadn't told anything to anyone. And in the same meeting Stark also told the whole team that you where taking some weeks off. So all that Bucky could do was hope that you are okay. While he takes a shower and gets ready for the day he replays all the amazing things you told him, and that lights up a little spark on his heart, but then he remembers all the terrible deeds he made in the past and all you had to suffer in your life. You deserves to be the happiest person on earth, and he knows he isn't the one that was going to help you achieve that. But a man is allow to dream. So he left his mind go wandering about you, your smile and the things he would do to make you happy. He gets to the kitchen still daydreaming when Steve's voice wakes him up. - "Crazy what happened to (y/n)." - "Hmm" - "There is a package to you. There" Steve points out to the other side of the giant kitchen island. "No sender, but the guys downstairs checked up. It's not a bomb" - "And why would someone send me a bomb?" - "I don't know. My guess is that it wouldn't be the first time someone tries to kill you this way" He wasn't wrong about that. Bucky opens up the package and the first thing he sees is a hadwritten note. I really do think that the world needs Bucky Barnes in these. There is always room for more beauty out there. Can you do me a favor? Every time you wear it remember the great man you are and how happy you deserve to be. Hope to see you when I get back. But in case you need someone to bail you ot of jail, some company while eye shopping or anything else just give me a call. Behind the note, involved in silk, it was the leather jacket from yesterday. Steve was wrong. This was a type of bomb.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x you

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wemayhavestartedthefiresorry · 4 years

Text

“Six or Seven what? Beers? Shots? Gallons?”

pairing: reader x tony stark

summary: Peter brings you to Tony’s house after a frat party. You’ve been drinking a lot and you drunkenly confess your crush on Tony. (AU where Tony is still alive after the snap and Pepper isn’t in the picture lmao.)

warnings: age gap, PTSD from the snap, mentions of alcoholism, angst, fluff, angry Tony, drunk reader

note: This one shot doesn’t really fit into the series in cannon. Reader is assumed to have helped the avengers with Thanos. I’m LIVING for angry Tony >:) I’m not a fan of Pepper Potts so lmao shes gone BYE

Tony sat in his workshop working on something that you had no chance at understanding. Especially since you were blackout drunk. Peter held your arm as the both of you walked down the steps. His music was loud but Tony often had it that way. So he didn’t notice as you stumbled down the stairs.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter tried to speak over the music but with no luck. Tony was facing the other way. You looked at him in your drunken stupor, he was terrified. “Mr. Stark?!” He yelled again, but to no avail. You couldn’t help but giggle. You wiggled yourself loose from Peter’s gentle grip and ran over to Tony. He was working on something that looked small, maybe a microchip or something smart. You carelessly wrapped your arms around him, giving him a back hug and effectively scaring the shit out of him. He looked over his shoulder with his eyebrows furled.

“FRIDAY, pause my playlist.” He called out. The music ceased almost instantly.

“Hi Tony!” you smiled widely, still hugging him.

“Who let you in here? Was it FRIDAY?” He looked at you, then Peter. “If you haven’t noticed, I have a strict ‘no children’ policy in my workshop.”

“I know, I’m sorry Mr. Stark. It’s just-”

“I’m not a child! I’m twenty three and 4 months old!” You blurted out. “Maybe you’re just older than dirt- no, older than dinosaur bones.” You laughed at your own joke, no one else did...

“You’re two hundred and eighty months old, you’re essentially an infant. Are you going to get off of me anytime soon?” Tony said.

Peter began to ramble. “We went to a party at a frat house and (Y/N) was doing shots and I was trying to get her to stop but she kept going and I didn’t know what to do and I can’t remember where she lives and she wouldn’t tell me because she didn’t want to leave the party and then she kept saying she just wanted to see you so I brought her here and I’m really sorry Mr. Stark-”

“Were you drinking too?” He interrupted.

“No, I wasn’t. I swear Mr. Stark I didn’t even look at any of the alcohol-”

“It’s okay, kid. I believe you. But you better keep it that way or I'm taking the suit.”

“No, sir. I mean- yes, sir.”

“How did you get here?”

“I took an uber.”

“FRIDAY, get the kid a ride back home.” Tony called out.

“Yes, sir.” FRIDAY responded. “A car will be out front for Mr. Parker.”

“It’s Friday Friday, gotta get down on Friday-” You began to sing off key.

“Thank you Mr. Stark.” Peter said.

“Yeah, we’ll talk more about this tomorrow...” He trailed off, looking down at the leech attached to him. Peter made his way back up the stairs to catch his ride. Tony was so warm, you didn’t want to let go. Usually you’re reserved in the way you act in front of your crushes but you were too drunk to care.

“So are you going to let go or am I your new life source now?” He asked. You peered up at him with a goofy smile but you got the hint and decided to let go. He turned around to face you. “My god,” He sniffed the air. “You smell like a distillery, and that means a lot coming from me. I literally own a distillery.”

“That’s weird,” You cocked your head to the side, “I haven’t been to a distillery.” you slurred. But something across the room caught your attention; the bar. You walked towards it to make another drink. Tony caught on to your plan quickly.

“Oh no you don’t,” He quickly stepped in front of you and crossed his arms. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“C’mon Tony, have a drink with me. I’d much rather drink with you than with some stupid frat boys anyway.” You turned away from him and took a seat in one of his desk chairs. “You’re more my speed. I don’t like hanging out with people my age, they’re too immature.”

“Yep, you’re definitely the poster boy for maturity right now. How much exactly did you drink?” He asked.

“Hm” You started to count on your fingers and mumble to yourself. You couldn’t remember how much you had actually drank. You took a guess. “Six- maybe seven.”

“Six or seven what? Beers? Shots? Gallons?”

“Maybe eight,” You got distracted and started to play with the spinny chair.

“You’re going to make yourself dizzy- Y/N, stop that.” You didn’t listen to him. “If you throw up on my floor I’m sending you the dry cleaning bill.” He said, but you still didn’t listen. He gave up and walked over and stopped the chair from spinning by grabbing the armrests. Leaving you and him face to face. For a moment you got so lost in his eyes that you forgot where you were.

“You know, you’re kinda cute when you're angry.” You reached out and pinched his cheek. You giggled, he wasn’t happy.

“That’s it, sport. You’re going home. FRIDAY-” He called out, but you cut him off before he got the chance to send you home.

“Jeez, Tony,” You whined. “Don’t be such a party pooper. I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.”

“Oh, I am.” He raised his eyebrows. Suddenly he seemed very annoyed, oops. “What’s not fun is taking a high schooler to a college party, getting blackout drunk, and making him take care of you.” His anger was subtle and masked with sarcasm but it sobered you a little bit. Your smile began to fade.

“I-” You were at a loss for words. Tony had never expressed anger at you before. “I’m sorry…”

“What you did tonight was at best irresponsible and at worst dangerous.” His temper was rising, you could tell he was reaching his boiling point. “What were you thinking? You know what, don’t answer that.” He held his finger up. “You” He pointed, “are going home.”

“Tony, I'm sorry. I mean it. It was a stupid mistake.” You began, getting more and more upset by the moment. Tears started to sting at your eyes and your voice trembled. “I won’t do it again. I just can’t be alone after everything that happened. Drinking is the only thing that makes me feel okay and I just-” You felt a tear drip down your cheek. For the past few months you had been having trouble with your PTSD from the Thanos snap. Even though it was all over, the trauma still scarred you. You used alcohol to cope.

“Shhh,” Tony’s expression softened. If anyone understood that struggle, it was him. “It's okay.”

“Please don’t be angry at me, I can’t-” you choked out as you tried to hold back your tears. “I can’t handle you being angry at me. I can handle when Steve is mad at me, I can handle when Clint is mad at me, hell, I can even handle when Nat is mad at me. But you? Not you.” Tony pulled you into a hug, petting your hair with his hand. You let yourself cry onto his t-shirt.

“I’m not angry at you. It’s okay…” He cooed. “I understand it more than anyone, trust me.” His chest was soft and warm, you loved the way his expensive cologne smelled. It seemed like a mix of pine and spice. It smelled like home. You pulled back to look him in the face. Through your dizzy drunkenness, you could feel the tension between you two. Looking into his eyes made your stomach flutter, you were sure that he felt it too. After a momentary pause, you leaned in and kissed his lips. He barely kissed back, but he didn’t reject it either. The kiss was quick, kind of like an experiment. You pulled back and stared at him, waiting for a chemical reaction. He stayed confused.

“I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” You said, breaking the silence. “I’ve liked you for a while but I’ve been too shy to say anything.” You anxiously awaited his response.

“(Y/N), I’m old enough to be your father-”

“I don’t care.” You cut him off. “I like you. I want to be with you. You’re the only person that truly makes me feel safe and that’s why I wanted to come here. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want to be with you.” There was a long pause. Tony seemed to be thinking very carefully about what to say next. He looked at you with a mix of confusion and sympathy.

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow. I think we should get you to bed.”

“Okay…” You said, slightly disappointed but understanding that he didn’t want to talk about it. You walked up the stairs with him and he brought you to the guest room. You peered in through the open door as you stood in the frame. It was roomy and looked comfortable, but the whole reason you didn’t want to go home is because you didn’t want to sleep alone.

“You can sleep in here. I’ll just be right down the hallway, okay?” he said.

“Okay.” You replied. He began to walk away but suddenly you got the courage to speak up. “Tony?” you called to him and he turned around. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” You asked timidly. He paused for a moment.

“Sure, just for tonight.” you smiled. “But if you throw up I’m kicking you out.” He teased, you giggled as you walked towards his room. “I’m being completely serious.” You waltzed into his room and flopped down on his bed. He turned around and started rifling through his dresser.

“You can borrow my clothes to sleep in,” He said with his back turned. “I’ll probably have to incinerate them tomorrow to get the smell of whiskey out of it but here-” He turned around to look at you, but while he had been looking for pajamas you had already fallen asleep.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and sat up, groaning with exhaustion. You looked around at the room. Tony had fallen asleep on the comfy chair on the other side of the room, he was passed out. You looked down at your clothes. You weren’t wearing what you left the house in last night. Suddenly nausea overcame you and you ran to the bathroom as quickly as you could to throw up in the toilet. You leaned over the porcelain bowl and yacked for a while, but you felt better afterwards. You took a deep breath, washed your face and mouth out in the sink, and walked back into Tony’s room. Clearly you stirred him with your vomiting because he had already woken up and left the room. You crawled back in bed wearing Tony’s oversize t-shirt and no pants, you covered your legs with the soft plush blanket. Tony walked in.

“Good morning, Dionysus. How’s your head?” He sat at the end of the bed with a glass of water and an aspirin. You winced in pain.

“It’s just peachy, thank you.”

“Here, take this.” He handed it to you and without hesitation, you took it.

“What happened last night?” You asked, your memory was still hazy.

“Peter brought you here after you went to a frat party and you refused to go to your own home. You passed out on my bed but not before confessing your crush on me.” He stated very matter-of-factly. You could tell he was basking in the fact that you were reaping the consequences of your actions. Your stomach dropped. It all came back to you… the crying, the kiss, the confession.

“Oh no,” You shut your eyes tightly.

“Oh yes, and I believe you mentioned that I’m older than dirt. Or was it ‘older than dinosaur bones’?” You cringed. You couldn’t believe you said that to his face. “You’re quite the flirt when you drink.” You looked down at your clothes and suddenly a big question hit you.

“Oh my god, did we…?”

“Absolutely not, you came in and passed out on my bed. I figured you didn’t want to sleep in a leather skirt so I changed you…” A moment of silence hung in the air. “Don’t flatter yourself, I didn’t look.” He avoided eye contact.

“Thank you…” You felt bad for being such a pain when he was being so kind to you. “I’m sorry for um, saying all that stuff to you last night. But also for the kiss...” You took a deep breath trying to build up the courage to talk about your feelings. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while…” You awaited his response.

“I know,” He said to your surprise.

“You knew?” You said in disbelief.

“I’ve always known, Y/N. I see the way you look at me, I’m not stupid.”

“W-why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“You’re half my age, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Tony, that doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care about how old you are.” You assured him.

“Your drunk alter ego seems to care.” He teased.

Are you saying you feel the same way?” You asked, trying to make sense of everything.

“Yeah-” Before he could finish his sentence you cut him off with a kiss, a sober one this time. You felt him lean into you, caressing your face in his hand. Despite the age gap, it felt right. You felt safe. As your lips disconnected, you locked eyes with him. He sighed.

“What?” you asked.

“I need to find you a toothbrush,” You cracked a smile. “You smell terrible too. I’ll turn on the shower for you.” He stood up and walked out of the room. Although your head was pounding, your heart was full with joy. Tony was finally yours.

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 10) - FINALE

My Masterlist

Summary: Things may have gotten better but you still need YOUR family...

Word Count: 9442

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (mentioned), Rebecca Barnes, Winnifred Barnes

Warnings: Swearing, Surgery, Organ Donation, Nudity, Cancer, Death Mention, William Shakespeare (check sparknotes if you would like but I just could not bother translating that shit!)

A/N: This is the first series that I have completed and I must say, I feel so damn accomplished. As I have said before, Better is a fic that is extremely close to my heart because of how personal it is to me. I loved writing every bit of it, even the angst and the fluff. I appreciate all the love that I got for this fic, with Better!Bucky stealing everyone’s hearts and the headcanons you all sent me when I felt really inspired to dive more into this little universe that I had created. We have two epilogues left so this isn’t goodbye. But thank you to @dramadreamer14 for being the one who got me started on here and for keeping me going until the end of the line (I HAD TO!). You’re the realest, Naynay! This one’s for you! <3

The steam that arose from the hot shower still lingered around the bathroom, the condensation clouding up the mirror as you stood in front of it. Fresh out of the shower and still in the nude, you took a moment to stare at the plain reflection of your delicate body. You watched as a drop of water trickled down your neck before reaching your sternum. Under your right breast was the waterproof dressing that kept covered the now restored masterpiece of Dr. Peter Parker. You could not help but run your fingers over the patch for a moment. These stitches should start dissolving soon.

Natasha had told you that since your incision had reopened and had to have been stitched up again, you might have a scar on your abdomen for the rest of your life; it was a constant reminder of your sacrifice and the trauma that you had to endure. Not that you minded, really. After all, this scar was also a reminder of you finally opening yourself up to your James.

The creaking noise of the door snapped you out of your thoughts for a moment and you noticed Bucky Barnes enter the bathroom. “I told you not to get out of the shower until I got back, doll.” He scolded you when he saw you standing in front of the mirror, shaking his head at your reflection as he wrapped the clean bath robe over your shoulder.

You gave him a small smile as you felt your cheeks heat up, looking down at your feet as the drops of water continued to trickle down your bare legs. You could not remember the last time you had managed to shave; it must have been a few days before your surgery. But with your lack of mobility when showering, you had not even bothered to make the effort. For the sake of not soaking your stitches, you had been avoiding taking a bath like the plague. While the shower had definitely helped with maintaining the cleanliness, the sutures in your body prevented you from bending over in order to shave.

Not that Bucky minded though. He was never one to believe in the social constructs of what made someone attractive, especially not with you. His common sense and medical knowledge combined were reason enough for him to know that hair growth was a natural bodily function within women and that shaving should not be a priority to someone who’s currently recovering from a partial liver transplant. He had ensured that you had no reason to feel insecure about that.

This would be the fourth day he had helped you out of the shower, the fourth time he had seen you completely naked and not made a big deal out of it. As a surgeon, he had seen it all during his decade on the job. But even though you were not his patient, even if you were the love of his life, he was not one to lose his self control and dignity just because you had stood before him unclothed. He understood that you were healing and he was caring for you. It was as simple as that.

He grabbed a clean towel from the rack and handed it to you so that you could dry yourself off. “Nat said that she’ll take a look at your stitches when she comes over tomorrow, just to see if they’re dissolving as they should be.” He told you, his head held low to the tiled bathroom floor. He would not even dare to steal a glance of your naked body without your consent. “I’ll let you get dried off.”

Before he could step out of the bathroom, you quickly grabbed his wrist. “James.” You gave him a soft smile as you stepped forward, leaning in slightly to peck his lips. “Thank you.”

He cocked his eyebrow slightly, giving you a look of confusion that was followed by a soft chuckle. “Get dried off so that I can change your dressing, okay? I’ll get started on breakfast.”

You gave him a nod as you watched him walk out of the bathroom, a sigh of contentment escaping your lips as you turned back to look at your reflection in the mirror. With the fog now cleared up, you could finally see yourself smiling and you began to dry yourself off.

While you were getting dressed, Bucky managed to strip and make your bed before making his way to the kitchen. He got started on making your breakfast, as he had been doing for the last few days. He would say that he was a decent cook for the most part. Having lived alone for all these years, he did have to learn how to make his own meals. However, in recent years with his added workload and unpredictable schedule, not to mention the financial stability, he had hired a personal chef to prep his meals for him while he was away.

His lunches and dinners had always been prepped and stored in his refrigerator by his professional meal prepper every week. But ever since you had come to stay with him, he had contacted the chef and made changes to his usual menu to include your dietary requirements as per Natasha’s instructions. While the fridge had been stored with pre-prepared meals of salmon and broccoli or an avocado salad for you, breakfast was always his thing.

Bucky always prepared you a bowl of oatmeal topped with fresh berries and some freshly steeped green tea, all of which were on the top of Natasha’s list of foods that were good for the liver. As he had learned recently, you were not that fond of the taste of grapefruit though you preferred a glass of cranberry juice with your dinner as replacement for wine. In the last four days, he had become quite fond of all of your weird quirks – from the temperature of the water when you shower to the way you ate your broccoli first before digging into the salmon, he liked all of it.

You got dressed into an oversized nightshirt that MJ had picked out for you after realizing that your closet was rather lacking of clothes that are comfortable enough for someone who’s just had surgery. It was lose around your body, covering a lot more skin compared to a hospital gown but also easy to breathe in. You pulled your dressing gown over your body as you made your way over to the kitchen. Bucky’s apartment was fairly too big for one person alone, with a breathtaking view of the river right outside of his living room window. It was roomy. The guest bedroom itself was three times as big as your entire loft apartment. A part of you felt slightly guilty for taking up that much space, for you had always believed that you deserved less than what you had. But you also felt safe in this apartment, for you were with your James. You were at his home. Home is where the heart is and you had given him your heart.

When you saw that Bucky had set down a bowl of oat meal in front of your seat, you groaned. “James, I can’t...” Your tone was rather whiney but it made him chuckle. “You can’t mask out the fibre with all those berries. It’s disgusting.”

He handed you a spoon as you sat down, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “If you eat this and drink your tea, I’ll give you an extra glass of cranberry juice for dinner.”

“You call that an incentive, Dr. Barnes?” You looked up at him with a pout of your lips. “I never thought I would say this but I would actually take the IV and feeding tube over this concoction that Natasha has graciously called breakfast.” You admitted as you took the spoon from him and sighed, struggling to take the first bite. “If that liver of mine doesn’t regenerate in the next few weeks, I swear to God...”

Pulling up his chair next to you, he sat down with his own bowl of oatmeal and held up his spoon. “I’m with you till the end of the line, doll.” He said as he took a bite of his breakfast, scrunching his nose at the texture of the warm oatmeal in his mouth. “Not as good as my usual protein shakes but this would do.”

You let out a chuckle as you took another bite of it, laying your head against his shoulder. “So, your usual diet includes protein shakes and an extensive menu prepared by a personal chef.” You noted, cheekily. “Good to know, Barnes...”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just that... there are a lot of things that I feel like I didn’t know about you until now.” You admitted, taking another bite before turning over to look at him. “And it seems like you know everything about me by now...”

It took a moment for your James to take in what you were saying and he bit down on his bottom lip, letting out a sigh before giving you a nod. “I do, don’t I?” He asked as he picked at his bowl of oatmeal before turning over to look at you. “I do know a lot about you, maybe more than you had told me.” Admitting that may not have been the best thing to do right not, but he did not care. After all, he wanted to be honest with you. If it meant that he should share what he had done, then so be it. If you did get mad at him for it, then he sure as hell deserved it for invading your privacy.

You raised your eyebrow slightly as you set down your spoon, licking your lips as you picked up your mug to take a sip of the green tea that had now cooled down. “Peggy may have mentioned it when I asked her why the terms on your contract were triple the amount that my parents owed the hospital. She said something about the outstanding medical bills in Philly, which she wouldn’t have known so I asked her how she did know and she was so quick to rat you out that I was actually surprised.” You told him as you laid his hand on top of his, sighing.

“I...”Bucky paused, not knowing how to respond to that. He could never trust Peggy with a secret, could he? For a woman who preaches about attorney-client privilege like it’s the Bible, she sure as hell lacked the social filter that was necessary when it came to his love life. She could not keep a secret. It did dawn on him that she may have had good intentions, but that did not make her attempts to meddle any better. “I... I’m sorry, I know I violated your privacy. But I only did it because I was worried and I was watching out for you...” He bit down on his bottom lip as he looked away from you, unable to maintain eye contact when you had just called him out on what he had done.

“James.” You shook your head. “She was also quick to explain that what you did was totally illegal and if I did want to take legal action against you, she would have to resign from being my attorney due to her conflict of interest.” You joked, chuckling softly as you tried to lighten up the mood.

“You’re... not mad?”

You shook your head. “No, I mean, I know why you did it. I had built up these walls around me and... I made it so hard for anyone to know anything about me. In a way, it’s my fault that you had to go out of your way to...” You sighed. “It shows me that you care, James, and I’m... I’m glad to have someone who cares enough about me to... not think twice about breaking the law.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief that you were not mad at him. But how could you ever get mad at him in the first place? “Oh thank God, I was so worried... that you might end up hating me.” He admitted. “I’m sorry, doll. Even though I did have good intentions, what I did was wrong and I have to own up to that. If you do feel like punishing me for what I did, I’m more than willing to accept it.”

“Well, if you insist on being punished, then... since you seem to know everything about me, you could... maybe start off by telling me everything about you.” You told him as you laughed. “I mean, I did know that you came from old money and that you did not have to struggle financially. But you live in a big ass penthouse apartment, you drive a Mercedes but Wanda tells me that it’s not the only car you own... and you have a personal chef and a housekeeper who come in once a week. You seem a lot more... different than... most people I know. And no, I’m not saying this because I feel insecure or anything. I don’t... I just... you are so different, you could have had anything or anyone you wanted and to think that you chose my fucked up heart over that, I’m... I’m flattered.”

“You’re right, doll.” He admitted, picking at his bowl of oatmeal as he turned over to look at you. “I am different. We’ve both had very different upbringings, I won’t deny that. My grandparents were... fairly wealthy. My family’s quite influential in this little town of Shelbyville, Indiana. That’s where I was born. My parents met when they were kids and they were high school sweethearts. They got married right after they graduated from medical school, moved to Brooklyn for their residency and started up their own practice together, as partners. They were both very successful physicians but they also started a family together. Four kids... and a business to run, they could not do it on their own. I was pretty much raised by my nanny, Sarah...”

“Steve’s mother.” You noted, giving him a nod. Steve had told you about his own family situation growing up, with his parents being Irish immigrants who had their own struggles. Mr. Rogers had not been the best of fathers, but he had passed o when he was fairly young. Sarah Rogers had no choice but to become to sole breadwinner of her family, having a young son to take care of on her own. It must have been a miracle that she had managed to find employment with the Barnes. But from what you knew, the woman had pretty much raised your James and she had done a darn good job at it. “He’s told me a lot about her.”

“She was a wonderful woman, Y/N. I wish you could have met her. She would have loved you like her own child. She always treated us like we were her own children. She never acted like she was being paid to take care of us.” Bucky recalled fondly as he thought of his childhood. “She took care of us like we were her own. But she did have certain limits. She always called me Master James, told me that I should never pick on my little sisters and that I should always watch out for them, as their big brother. She always let me watch when she braided their hair or when she cooked, taught me a thing or two along the way. She was the reason why I managed to become friends with Steve. He was like another brother than a friend, really... he still is.”

“Do you miss her a lot?” You asked him, biting down on your bottom lip as you picked at your oatmeal. You were well aware that Steve’s mother had passed away quite a while ago. Though you did not know the details, you knew that she had passed away from cancer. But now that you knew that Bucky did have a close relationship with that woman, you could imagine how hard it must have been for her.

“I mean, yeah... I miss her a lot. I think about her every day, every single day when I go into work, every single time I see a patient, every single time I get called for a consult. I think of her and I miss her every single day. I never...” Looking back to his teenage days was not easy for Bucky. It was never easy for any teenager. But the worst part of it all had to be when he had lost Sarah. He had been nineteen years old back then, having taken a gap year after his high school graduation. Not only had he been unsure about what he wanted do with his life, but he had also made a pact with Steve that the two of them would attend NYU together. Perhaps his decision to declare a pre-med major may have been his attempt at blindly following his parents’ footsteps, but after Sarah’s death he knew exactly what kind of doctor he wanted to be. “I never realized how fucked up our health care system was... until I realized what actually happened to Sarah. I didn’t think that someone who had a clear case of BAC could be misdiagnosed with pneumonia. I didn’t think there was this... systemic... classism that was so deep-rooted... I think that was a wake-up call for me. All I could think of was... if Sarah had been in a better financial situation, she would have gotten better care and she might even be alive today. I think that made me want to be a better doctor than the ones she had, you know... because I don’t think any kid in this fucked up world deserves to lose their mother because their doctors weren’t good enough at doing their jobs.”

You nodded, understandingly. “She would have been so proud of you, James. She would have been so proud of both you and Steve, your sisters. She did a damn good job raising all of you and... she’s watching you do wonders, I’m sure.” You told him with a smile, your hand holding onto his.

His lips curled into a small smile as he nodded. “I do hope so, Y/N.” He admitted, sighing. “You know, I... I wasn’t always like this. Back then, all I cared about was being the best doctor that could be. And I was... good at my job. I’m a good doctor, I know that. I was better than those doctors that Sarah had. But I was so caught up with being a better doctor, that I often... I forgot to be human.” This was true. He did have his head right up his ass until a few years ago. “I was throwing myself into work and... I thought I was doing good, that cutting into hearts were enough. I had a privileged life, Y/N. I never understood how lucky I was that... I had parents who had successful careers or financial stability. I never understood that... I had made it this far was because I was privileged. I never thought about... giving back to those who didn’t have what I had. I... didn’t think that I could do so much more than I already was. I was so caught up with being a good doctor but what I realized later was that I needed to be a better person... because I had a lot of people who were looking up to me. Seeing you made me realize that... you’re not the one who should strive to be better, but me. I needed to be better, for myself ... for my goddaughter, my niece and nephew... for you. You made me realize that.”

You leaned over to give him a quick peck on his lips. “Well, you can’t be better than perfect... and you are perfect.” You told him, and he was indeed that. He was the perfect man, who had once had his flaws but he had worked to fix them all, for your sake.

After breakfast, you found yourself having taken your medication and making yourself comfortable on your James’ living room couch. The downside to being away from work was the fact that it was extremely difficult to kill time. Steve had forbidden you from even logging into your work email, let alone checking the files of your current patients whom you had transferred over to him for the time being. You had no other choice but to binge-watch whatever show was popular on Netflix. Hell, you had not even bothered to have an account on Netflix until Peter had forced you into creating one. You had a list of shows that you were planning to watch during your time in bed rest, as per Natasha’s recommendations. You were never fond of watching television, but at this point, you might as well keep yourself entertained.

While you had gotten immersed in the historically accurate depiction of the British royal family in The Crown, Bucky had found himself sitting in the dining room and catching up on some emails for work. He was on call at the moment but he had not been asked to come into the hospital just yet, so it was all good. Thankfully, Peggy was scheduled to spend the night with you while Steve was at home with Sarah. He had just finished replying to his last email when he got a phone call from his sister. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he saw Rebecca Barnes’ name flash on his phone before he answered the call. “Hey Becca?”

“Hey Buck, just letting you know that mom and I are on our way over to yours right now. We should be there in a half hour or so.” Becca told her brother in a hurry. “I just came down to drop the kids off for the weekend and mom insisted that I join her for a little impromptu visit. She wants to see Y/N.”

“What?!” His eyes grew wide as he heard what his sister what just told him, but his tone was rather hushed as he did not want to bother you during your binge. “Rebecca, what the hell?! How did she know that Y/N was here and why the hell are you calling me instead of talking her out of coming here?!”

“Bucky, I think you and I both know the answer to that.” She replied, sighing. “You know Steve calls her at least twice a week. Apparently, she heard through the grape vine that you had paid off a large amount of money and asked him if he knew about it. You know Steve. He wouldn’t lie to her so... yeah, she knows about Y/N and you paying off her parents. Oh and Steve was gracious enough to rat me out too. Now she knows that I was also involved...” There was a pause before she let out a sigh. “So... yeah, mom wants to see Y/N and we’re on our way.”

To say that James Barnes was certain that one could not trust both the mister and missus Rogers would be an understatement. How could both the husband and the wife just rat him out to two of the most important women in his life like that? He had no idea. “Alright, thanks for the warning, I guess. I’ll see you when you get here.” Once he hung up the call, he was quick to make his way over to the living room. “Hey, doll?”

You picked up the remote to pause your show before turning your head slightly to face him. “Yeah?”

Biting down on his bottom lip, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants as he made his way around the couch. Sitting down on the loveseat across from you, he rubbed his temples for a moment, not knowing how to break this to you. He had not bothered letting his parents know about the events of the last few weeks, mainly because he did not know how to. But he also did not want to put you in an overwhelming position where you had to deal with them while you were also recovering from your surgery. Surely, you had met George and Winnifred Barnes before. But back then, you were only a colleague of his and now you were his girlfriend. “I don’t want to freak you out but... uh... my sister Becca just called and... my mom’s on her way here right now and she wants to see you.”

“What?!” You asked him in surprise. You had met the woman briefly before at Sarah Rogers’ second birthday party a few months ago. You certainly had a lot of respect for her. But now you were particularly nervous about meeting her again, as you happened to be dating her son. “How?”

Your James winced slightly at the thought of his best friend. “... Steve.” He replied with a sigh. “He told her everything and now she’s on her way here. My sister said that she wanted to see you.”

You let out a groan when he mentioned the name of your mentor. “Fucking Rogers...” You rolled your eyes as you laid your head back, sighing. “James, I don’t think I’m ready to meet your mother now. We’ve barely been a couple. What does she want to see me about?”

“I don’t know, doll.” Bucky agreed as he sighed, leaning over to place his hand on your foot. “You don’t have to put yourself through this if you don’t want to. I could just tell her that you’re not feeling like visitors and send her home.”

You shook your head. “Oh no, don’t do that. I don’t want to be rude.” You told him, biting down on your bottom lip. “I mean, you did say that she might be coming over every once in a while... right?”

“Well, she usually comes to do my laundry.” He admitted with a shrug. “Ever since she retired, she seems to have a lot of time on her hands so... she tends to stop by to do some chores around the house, you know, be a mom. But I was going to tell her to not come by in the next few weeks, you know, for your sake. But Steve just had to spill the beans to her and now’s she on her way.”

“When Peggy comes here tonight, I’ll make sure to give her a piece of my mind.”

The sound of his front door being unlocked by his mother’s set of keys may have startled Bucky slightly, for he sprung to his feet and stomped over to greet her in an instant. “Ma?”

“Hello, James.” The woman greeted her son with a warm smile upon seeing him rush to her, pulling him into a tight hug as she stood on the tip of her toes to reach his height. Even when her son had grown well into his adulthood, he would always be her little baby. As a once working mother who had been forced to spend so much time away from her children, she had always greeted them with a warm embrace when she came home. Her arms always wrapped tightly around them to show just how much she loved them despite not being around to show it as much as she would have liked. No wonder the Barnes children had turned out the way they had. They had two amazing women who had showered them with love and affection. They had never been deprived of a mother’s love, unlike yourself.

A part of him was relieved that his mother was not visibly upset by his actions, but he hugged her back rather hesitantly. All he could do was give Becca a death glare for not managing to talk her out of coming here. But it was too late now, since they were already here. He hoped for the best but for some reason, expected the worst. “Rebecca.”

“Brother.” She gave him an apologetic look that was followed by a shrug of her shoulders.

Pulling back from the hug, Winnifred Barnes ran her hand through her son’s hair fondly. “You look rather well-rested, son. Have you not been working in the last few days?” She asked him with her eyebrow raised at him.

“Uhm... no, not really.” He replied as he scratched the back of his neck. “I was on call the other night and I’m actually on call right now. I just haven’t had anyone call me in yet.”

“And here I thought my workaholic son had finally had a change of heart.” The woman joked as she began to make her way over to the living room. “How’s the lovely Y/N?”

“Uh...” He turned around to look at Becca before following her to the living room. “She’s doing alright...”

You turned off the television before getting out of your comfortable position on the couch, folding your blanket neatly and setting it aside. You fixed your dressing gown as you stood up, turning around towards the door to greet your boyfriend’s mother. “Dr. Barnes.” You smiled nervously at her.

“Oh honey, please... call me Winnie. Or Ma, Ma’s great too. Actually, I think I would prefer if you called me Ma.” She clarified with a smile, walking up to you and gently wrapping her arm around you. “Steve mentioned to me about your surgery the other day. I wish he could have told me sooner though. I would have come down and seen you at the hospital. But better late than never, right? How are you doing?”

“I’m doing much better now, thank you.” You told her with a smile and you could have sworn that your heart could have burst from the fondness that was so evident from this woman. “I... have some great people looking out for me so it’s all good.”

“Of course, you do!” Becca exclaimed as she walked up to you with a wide grin. “Hi, we haven’t met. I’m Becca Barnes and it’s so lovely to meet you, finally. My children have told me so much about you.”

You returned her smile, knowing very well that this woman had been the one who had dug into your past as per her brother’s request. “Peggy told me a lot about you as well, believe it or not.” You told her, making Bucky choke slightly.

Winnifred Barnes turned over to her son. “James, didn’t you say that you were working today? Why don’t you get on your way now? Becca and I can keep Y/N company while you’re gone.”

“Uh...” He looked away from his mother for a moment, turning to you with wide eyes. “I mean, I don’t have to go yet...”

A part of her was slightly surprised by his response, for she knew that her son would never turn down a chance to go into work earlier than he had been expected to be at work. But she was not an idiot. She knew that his reason for wanting to delay going in to the hospital was because he would rather stay at home with you.

She had to admit that it was slightly refreshing to see him like this. Bucky had remained single for while now and had rarely ever brought any women home. Winnifred had always been worried that her son would willingly choose to spend the rest of his life alone despite the fact that he was certainly capable of finding himself a wife. But she knew now that his heart had always been set on you and she could not be more grateful that the two of you had found each other.

When she had heard from Steve, and Becca after much insistence, about your familial situation, the woman’s heart broke. A mother’s love was meant to be the purest of them all. But the fact that your own mother had been the cause of your despair had sickened her. In an instant, she was longing to embrace you and shower you with the love that you had been so deprived of. A mother’s love, for you were now a daughter to her as much as the rest of them, if her son was so sure of making you his wife.

Just then, Bucky’s pager went off against the waistband of his sweat pants. A disappointed groan escaping his lips, he checked the page before making his way towards the dining room to grab his phone. A quick phone call to the nurses’ desk and MJ informing him of a ferry accident was reason enough for him to head to work. When he turned around to head back to the living room, he noticed that his sister had followed him. “What is it?”

Rebecca Barnes bit down on her bottom lip. “Mom... told me to give you something.” She told him as she reached into her purse to pull out a little black box. “When you’re ready, Buck...” She handed it to him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “If you know that Y/N’s the one, I mean... I’m sure you know that by now. We all know that she’s the one, just... Mom loves her, but that’s not a surprise. Dad’s quite fond of her too, believe it or not. What’s there not to love about Y/N Y/L/N?”

His eyes grew wide as he took the box from her, pulling her into a hug and sighing. His eyes glazed over as he realized that he now had his family’s blessing. Although it was only a few days into the two of you being boyfriend and girlfriend, he had always known that it was you. But now his family did too. “She is the one, Becca.” He admitted, sighing. “She’s always been the one. I’ve always known that if I ever wanted to settle down and have a family of my own, if I didn’t have it all with Y/N, then I didn’t want it at all.”

Becca nodded as she rubbed his back, sighing. “She’s been through a hell of a lot, Bucky. She’s been through enough. She really needs a good family, one where she feels loved and accepted... and we have a damn good family, one that can love her... like family should. She’s earned every right to be a part of what we have. She deserves to be a Barnes.”

Pulling back from the hug, he wiped away his tears before looking down at the box that his sister had just handed him. Opening it to reveal the piece of jewelry that he had been so familiar with, he looked up at her. “Becca, is this...?”

“Our grandmother’s ring?” She nodded. “Yeah, it is. It’s the same one that she gave mom after she got married to dad. It’s a Barnes family heirloom and Y/N deserves it. Mom’s been holding onto it for the moment you... found yourself a woman you want to marry. She told me... what better way to welcome a new Barnes into the family than with a Barnes family heirloom?”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Promise me that you won’t put this off like you’ve been doing for all these years.” She asked her brother. “Promise me that you’ll do it sooner rather than later.”

Your James smiled before giving his sister a nod. “I promise.”

It had taken Bucky ten quick minutes to get dressed for work. As he was low on time, he was a little rushed. He had apologized to you a few times for having to leave you so abruptly and that too in the presence of his mother and sister.

But you had assured him that it was fine. “I knew you were on call, James. It’s cool. I’m just glad I don’t have to spend a few hours alone until Peggy gets here. It’s nice to have some company.” You told him.

He nodded as he leaned over to kiss the top of your head. “You better take care of yourself while I’m gone, you hear me? Your meals are in the fridge. Please eat on time and take your meds on time. No moving around too much while I’m gone and no trying to do chores either. You’re here to rest, not to be my unpaid housekeeper. Understood?”

You gave him a nod as your lips curled into a pout. “Yes, Dr. Barnes.” You giggled. “I’ll be fine. You’re leaving me with Brooklyn’s best internist and PI. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He chuckled softly as he turned over to look at his mom and sister, silently pleading them both not to overwhelm you in any way. He knew that they both understood, but he could not be so sure about it. After all, he wanted to make sure that you were comfortable.

“Oh don’t you worry, James. Rebecca and I can definitely keep her entertained while you’re gone.” Winnifred reassured her son, to which he had simply rolled his eyes in a playful manner.

“Bye Ma...” He waved at his mother, and then at his sister. “Bye Becca...” He turned to you. “Goodbye, doll. I love you... all three of you.” And with that, he turned around and made his way out the door.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and you hid your face away from Becca’s teasing look.

“Our boy’s turned into complete mush, Ma.” The PI noted as she giggled, her arm wrapped around you as you hid your face.

“I’ve never seen him so happy.” Her mother agreed, turning over to look at you. “Steve told me just how much he loves you, Y/N. I’m so happy for him... and for you. You two really deserve each other.”

“James... is a really great guy, Winnie.” You agreed as you looked up at her. “And I have you to thank for that.”

As the hours went by, both Winnifred and Rebecca Barnes had stayed with you. They had kept you fairly occupied, talking about the one man whom you all loved. You had learned a lot more about your James that day, by just listening to them talk for hours on end about him. Both Winnie and Becca had a lot of stories to share, from his childhood to his adulthood.

You had come to learn that Bucky had been a complete nerd at school due to his photographic memory, often being picked on by the other kids for his smarts. But he had always had a backbone too, standing up to his bullies when they picked on him and when they picked on Steve. That was no surprise for you though. He had stood up for you too. While his mother had told you stories of him as a child, his sister had been the one who had shared the most embarrassing ones of all – his first crush, his first kiss, his prom date... the dirt on Bucky that his mother would not have known. All in all, you had learned a lot about his life more than you had done that morning and you could not have fallen even more in love with him than you already were.

When lunchtime rolled around, Becca had been the one to heat up your pre-prepared meal while Winnie had read through the copy of Natasha’s specific instructions that Bucky had stuck to the refrigerator and took out the right medications for you to take. But the stories never stopped. They had kept their word to Bucky and kept you more entertained that any show on Netflix could have. You had learned quite a lot about Shelbyville, Indiana, where the Barnes were originally from and their family’s estate there. They had even managed to sneak an invite for you to be there for the next Barnes family reunion. For a family that had been well settled in Brooklyn, they still kept in touch with their roots. You admired that.

Becca had left shortly after lunch though, as she had to pick up her children from pre-school and head home. Before you knew it, the sun had set and you found yourself sitting in the living room with your boyfriend’s mother, a glass of cranberry juice in your hand and a glass of wine in hers. You had talked to her about how she had managed to have a successful career as a doctor, while also raising four children of her own. You had admitted two her of your interest to someday have a family of your own as well while still continue working, something that you never would have dreamed of a week ago. But things had changed for the better.

You had to admit that this woman acted like she was more of a mother to you than your own mother, despite only having known you for a few hours. You knew where James got his charm and good heart from. It was all from his mother. Winnie had been the one to heat up your dinner, before stealing one of her son’s portions for herself. As the two of you sat down to eat at the dinner table, Peggy had arrived to take up her shift with you according to Wanda’s schedule.

“Peggy, darling, I should have called you sooner but I just got so caught up with talking to Y/N that I forgot.” Winnie apologized to her. “Go home to your husband and kid, seriously. I have no problem staying with Y/N for the night. James wouldn’t be back until the morning and I’m sure you’ve got to be at work tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

“Winnie, are you sure?” The attorney asked her. “I really don’t mind staying with Y/N.”

“Honey, I have no job and my husband’s out of town. I have no problem spending the night here with Y/N until James gets out of work. Just go!” She told her with a chuckle.

The British woman wiggled her eyebrows at you when the other was looking away before she bid you farewell. Boy, was she going to give Steve a treat for spilling the beans to Winnifred Barnes.

You had been sitting on the couch with your feet up, pulling the blanket over your body as the sun had set and the stars had filled up the sky, little twinkling lights that reminded you of your endless night shifts with Dr. Barnes. You felt the happiest when you worked the night shifts with him, splitting take out and chatting away about the weirdest things. And now you were doing almost the same with his mother. “Thanks for being here, Ma...” You told her as you turned over to look at the woman who sat in the loveseat across from you. Your eyes were a little droopy from the exhaustion of the day despite not doing much. It seemed as though you found yourself becoming tired rather easily nowadays, thanks to the medications you were taking and the extensive process of literally re-growing an organ that you had managed to cut off and donate.

“I think it’s time you went to bed, sweetheart.” Winnie told you as she watched you let out a yawn.

You shook your head. “Maybe in a few minutes...” You told her, letting out a soft chuckle. “I haven’t been able to sleep on the bed. It feels too soft sometimes. Plus, I’m way too comfortable on this couch right now so... let me just savor that some more and then I can go to bed.”

A soft chuckle escaped the woman’s lips as your response and she stood up from her seat. “How have you been sleeping then?” She asked you as she sat down next to you on the couch, her arm wrapped gently around your shoulder.

“Well, James... usually stays up until I fall asleep. He sleeps in the guest room with me sometimes.” You replied, blushing slightly. “I think he likes to watch me sleep, to make sure I’m okay. And when he’s working nights, Nat and Wanda... snuggle up to me until I fall asleep.”

You did not even realize how that conversation had ended. But unbeknownst to you, you had managed to fall asleep on Winnifred Barnes’ shoulder that night. Not wanting to wake you up, the woman had made herself comfortable on the couch while she laid your head on her lap, her hand gently stroking your hair while she had dozed off.

When Bucky Barnes had returned to his penthouse apartment following his excruciating night shift, the least that he would have expected was for you to be asleep in the guest bedroom with Peggy taking the couch. But what he had walked into was something much better than that. Seeing you fast asleep on his mother’s lap while she had woken up to the sound of him coming home was everything he could have wanted and more.

He tiptoed over to the living room, setting his bag down on the coffee table before sitting down on the loveseat across from his mother. “I’ve never seen her sleep so peacefully... and believe me, I would know. I’ve watched her sleep quite a few times.” He whispered, trying not to wake you up.

Winnifred Barnes laughed softly at her son before shaking her head, her hand still clutching onto yours as you slept. “Steve may have mentioned that as well. He would never leave anything out.”

“That punk...” He rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “But... uh... are you not mad at me for what I did, Ma? I should have at least told you and dad before I went ahead with my... excessive spending.”

“Oh James, you know you don’t have to apologize for that.” She shrugged it off. “You were protecting the woman you love, as you should have. If anything, it just made me so proud that... I must have done something right, raising an absolute gentleman like you.”

Bucky let out a chuckle. “Yeah... well... I wasn’t always a gentleman. I think the term that one would use to describe me was... fuck boy or man whore. I’m pretty sure it was one or the other.” He had to admit that he was ashamed of his past. He had to apologize for the way his actions had often brought shame to his parents back then. “I gave you and dad such a hard time, acting so reckless and stupid.”

“You were young... and stupid, kid. But that’s all part of growing up. You do stupid things but you eventually learn from them. We can’t hold it against you for doing what everyone else your age was doing.” Winnie told her son. “But I think your father and I both knew that you would grow up eventually and you would change. We couldn’t be more proud of you, for everything you’ve accomplished as a surgeon... and as a philanthropist.”

“I don’t think I should take credit for that, Ma.” He smiled, motioning towards you. “It was all her. She made me better.”

“And that’s why I knew that she’s the one.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the ring box that Becca had given him the day before. “Thanks for this, Ma.” He told her as he fumbled with the box for a moment, looking up at his mother with a content smile. “Thanks for everything. Thanks for being a good mom. I was lucky to have a mom like you and now I know that not many people can say that about their mothers, Y/N included.”

“The best part of being a mother was coming home to you and your sisters. Your dad and I had you before we did our residencies. When we moved to New York, we weren’t sure how we were going to manage raising you while working full time. Sarah was a big help but I always knew that I had to do my best to be a part of your life. I was not going to put my career over my children, because in the end it was your father and I who decided to have you when we had you.” She told him, a genuine smile evident on her face. “I love you, James. I always wanted you to know that, because a kid should never be deprived of a mother’s love, no matter how old he is or if he’s the best heart surgeon in New York. You’ll always be my little boy and I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you too, Ma... and I know that as she gets to know you, Y/N would love you too. She needs a good mom in her life and you’re the best mom I know.” Standing up from his seat, he walked around the coffee table to give her a kiss on the cheek. “You should probably go home and get some sleep. I’ve got her from here.”

James Barnes had a few hours to contemplate how he was going to do this. But he knew that this was exactly what his heart had desired. He was going to ask you to marry him the moment you woke up, not because he wanted to rush you into this relationship. He was not impatient, but this was not for him. He knew that Becca had been right about one thing – you needed a good family and the unconditional love that came with it. You needed a mother who would shower you with love and a father who would treat you as a human being. You had your girl friends but you also needed sisters. You needed to be a part of something more than just your little group of friends at the hospital. You needed family.

When Peggy’s parents had refused to attend her wedding to Steve, she had been quite upset. When he had asked Steve why their absence was such a big deal, Steve had explained to his promiscuous self that marriage was more than just two people coming together. It was about two families coming together as one. But you did not have a family of your own, so he might as well make you a part of his.

Bucky, although claimed to be lacking in the romantic department, had certainly proved that he was capable of pulling off some elaborate proposal if he wanted to. He could certainly afford it and a woman like you deserved to get engaged in style. But if he knew one thing about the woman he loved, it was that Y/N Y/L/N lived a rather simple life. She did not care for the riches, but for the thought that went behind every single thing he would do for her. You would want a simple yet genuine proposal from him, so that was exactly what he was going to give you.

“I loved hanging out with your mom and sister. I got a lot of dirt about you and your rebellious years. You’ve lived quite the life, Dr. Barnes.” You told your boyfriend as you made your way towards the kitchen once you had showered and gotten dressed. A look of confusion had plastered across to your face as the aroma of fresh pastry lingered up to your nostrils, much to the contrast of the usual morning oatmeal topped with fresh berries that you had been so used to. “James?”

“I was thinking... that after four whole days of oatmeal for breakfast, you might want something a little bit more indulging.” He chuckled softly as he set a plate of Cannoli’s on the kitchen island. “I ordered it from the little bakery down the street. They’re my favorite cheat meal.”

“Cannoli’s?” You asked, your eyebrow raised as you sat down on the chair. “What’s the occasion?”

“It was the closest thing I could find to a Venetian feast at such short notice.” He replied with a shrug as he walked around the kitchen island to kiss you softly.

“Why a Venetian feast?” You asked him as you picked up one of the pastry rolls and took a bite, letting the chocolate-y mascarpone filling give life to your partially dead taste buds.

Your James took a step back from you for a moment, taking your free hand in his as he bit down on his bottom lip. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this right now, because he did not want to put this off like he had put off confessing his love to you for years. He was not going to keep you waiting on him any longer that he had already done. “As our good friend William Shakespeare once wrote... You see me, Lady Y/L/N, where I stand... Such I am. Though for myself alone... I would not be ambitious in my wish... To wish myself much better, yet for you... I would be trebled twenty times myself- A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich- That only to stand high in your account.”

Your eyes glazed over as you realized what he was saying. It was Portia’s monologue to Bassanio before she gave him her ring as a symbol of her love and commitment to him in The Merchant of Venice. The only difference though, was that he had changed the pronouns. “James.”

“Happy in this- he is not yet so old... but he may learn. Happier than this- he is not bred so dull but he can learn. Happiest of all is that his gentle spirit... commits itself to yours to be directed... as from his lady, his governor, his queen. Myself and what is mine to you and yours... Is now converted.” Bucky was in tears as he pulled out the little black ring box from his pocket and held up to you, dropping to his knee as he showed you the ring. His heart was beating right out of his chest, but for once he felt truly alive. His heart was no longer stone cold or dead. Yes, you had thawed him out completely. “I give them with this ring.”

You looked down at the vintage diamond ring that he had been holding. “James...” You crouched down to grab his face, his hair getting entangled with your fingers as you wiped away his tears with both of your thumbs.

“I’ve lived a life so different from yours, Y/N. I had all the money in the world and a loving family. I want what was mine to be yours too.” He sniffled. “I want you to have a family. I want you to be a part of mine. I want you to be a Barnes, if you would accept my proposal.”

Your voice was trembling and you were unable to speak. You nodded your head quickly as you continued to cry, your hands not leaving his face. Your eyes darted down to the ring that he had been holding and you nodded once more. Removing your hands from his cheeks, you held out the palm of your left hand towards him.

Bucky grinned widely as he wiped away his tears, retrieving the ring from its box to gently slide it onto your ring finger. “You don’t have to marry me right away. It can be tomorrow morning or ten years from now, I don’t care. You don’t have to have a custom made dress and flower arrangements. A courthouse wedding with a judge and two witnesses is more than enough for me, as long as it’s you that I’m marrying.”

“I think I have a better idea, Dr. Barnes.” You told him as you took both of his hands in yours. “How about we get married on Valentine’s Day? In your hometown of Shelbyville, Indiana... at your family’s estate, surrounded by your family and all of our friends. Steve would be your best man. Sam, Clint, your other friends and your brother-in-law would be your remaining groomsmen. Natasha would be my maid of honor and she’ll help me plan the wedding, from the color scheme to the flower arrangements and picking out a dress. Your three sisters, Peggy, Wanda would be my bridesmaids. Sarah and your little niece would be flower girls, your nephew the ring bearer and... the Chief’s ordained so he can marry us. Your parents will be sitting front row... and Matthew can walk me down the aisle.”

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