#Went to hang out I'd not want to go. Id be uncomfortable and still feel like shit. Less like shit but still shit? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reidgraygubler · 4 years

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i would get beat to smithereens... (spencer reid/reader)

Title: i would get beat to smithereens Request: no Couple: Spencer Reid/Gen-Neutral!Reader Category: fluff w/ slight angst; song fic Content Warning: swearing, talks about psychical fights, descriptions of a flight, mentions of blood, talks about verbal arguments, mentions of alcohol, Word Count: 4,544 Summary: Spencer Reid is in love with his best friend and would do anything for them… including getting into a fight with a stranger making Reader uncomfortable A/N: this is based on smithereens by twenty one pilots. i feel like it has spencer vibes, and i needed it in my life. thanks for the love! check out my masterlist :)

{***}{***}{***}

“I'm not a profiler. I'm just a doctor," I groaned, looking over at Luke and JJ. They were both looking at me like they were disappointed I was making it sound like I was useless to the team.

"If you weren't a profiler, you wouldn't be a part of the team!" JJ scoffed as she stirred her straw around in her glass of now mostly ice. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. I could feel the teasing smile tug on my lips as I glanced at the man sitting beside me. Spencer was staring down at the table, bored out of his mind. Penelope was the one who dragged him along, really. Though, I was happy he was here.

"Okay, that's true, but I'm not the best profiler. I'm like the worst profiler… above Spencer," I teased with a smile. Spencer gawked at me, about ready to shoot back. "I'm kidding, Pretty Boy." I winked at him. He glared at me as he returned his eyes back to the table. "Emily asked me to be a part of the team for injuries you fools get out on the field and to help injured victims before the ambulance gets to the scene. I hardly do any profiling. Just here to help you poor, injured souls," I beamed. JJ laughed and shook her head.

"I'd say…" Luke looked over at me. He had gauze covering his arm, from where he got cut by an unsub. I looked over at him, mildly amused. “I’d take you over an ER nurse any day.” He smiled at me. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm much nicer than ER nurses anyway. You know that, Lukey-Poo," I laughed lightly before sipping my drink. Luke looked at me momentarily before dropping his gaze to the tabletop.

“I still think you’re one of the best profilers and doctors on the team.” JJ smiled at me before glancing at Spencer. He was looking down at his water, no longer listening to our conversation.

"I'm a medical doctor! I'm nothing like our resident genius!" I half exclaimed as I sipped my drink. I lifted my other hand and placed it on Spencer’s shoulder. He tensed under my touch before shrugging my hand off his shoulder. I glanced at him before looking towards Emily. She smiled and shrugged.

"There is a reason why I asked you to be a part of the team, ya know." Emily looked at me. I shrugged as I stood up. Spencer looked up at me and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh please, Em, you’re just flattering me.” I smiled as I sipped the rest of my drink. “I’m going to get another drink. Anyone want anything?” I pointed to each person. JJ and Emily passed, nursing their last drinks for the evening, Luke wanted another beer, Tara wanted whatever I was getting, and Penelope wanted another fruity cocktail. Spencer and Matt were pouring themselves another glass of water. “I’ll be right back.” I smiled at them all before grabbing my empty bottle by the neck.

I sauntered over towards the bar, swinging the bottle beside me. A few men were standing and sitting at the bar, laughing and talking amongst each other. I didn’t think much of it, people talking to each other. I mean, that’s what I was doing with all my friends. But there was something about these people that felt… off.

“Hey, there sexy.” A person leaned beside me on the counter. I flashed him a nervous smile before looking back down at my phone. The person stayed beside me, talking and thinking I was listening to him. “You wanna get outta here?” they asked, leaning closer to me. I glanced at him and shrugged.

“I’m actually going to watch a movie with my friends tonight,” I gestured back towards my friends, I would go as far as calling them family. The person looked towards them and shrugged.

“Maybe you could come home with me instead,” they kept their voice low. The bartender placed a tray on the counter in front of me, the four drinks I ordered on it. I shoved my phone in my pocket before placing my hands on either side of the tray. The person lifted his hand and grasped my wrist, tight.

“Can you let go of me?” I smiled at him. My smile was kind, yet stern. I was hoping they’d let me go with that, because I didn’t want to get any meaner. I had to be mean at work, and I didn’t want to be mean unless I had to. A dark smile grew on their lips as he stared at me.

“Let’s get outta here,” they whispered. I jerked my hand from their grasp and looked at them.

“Maybe next time. Now let me go before I whip your ass,” I spat at them. They raised their hands away from me and watched as I grabbed for the tray again. “Because that will happen,” I glared at the person before turning and going towards my table.

“Here we are, beer for Luke, beer for Tara, fruity cocktail for Penelope, and beer for me,” I smiled as I set each drink in front of each person. I returned to my seat beside Spencer. He seemed tense, he wasn’t this tense before I went to get drinks.

I silently sipped my drink and joined back in their playful banter. But something about the way Spencer was sitting was starting to stress me out. I looked at him and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, placing my bottle back on the table. He was staring across the bar. People had begun crowding the place, so it was near impossible to know what he was exactly staring at. Spencer stayed silent and shrugged. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Listen, I know I just said I’m not the best profiler. But I know you well enough to know that something is wrong. Now, Reid, what’s wrong,” I whispered and rested a hand on his knee.

“Nothing’s wrong. Promise,” he whispered as he looked at me as he brushed my hand off his body. I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. It was clear that something happened to change his mood, but I have no idea what it could have been.

Instead of worrying about why Spencer was suddenly in a bad mood, I rejoined the interesting banter between the rest of the group. But, I couldn’t help but notice the way Spencer glared across the bar and at the other patrons instead of being in our conversations. I hope he isn’t mad that I didn’t get him a drink. He didn’t want another drink.

The night at the bar came to an end and everyone parted ways. I was more than happy to go home. The exhaustion from the day and the creeps at the bar made me even more tired and it hit me hard. Though I’d miss my friends, I’d see them in the morning at work.

A glass of red wine sat on the coffee table as the tv sat on with a random channel. I was sitting on the ground behind the coffee table with several different case files flipped open. I still needed to sign on some papers and help a few old colleagues with their mysterious health cases.

I stretched my legs out in front of me as I grabbed for my wine glass. Just as the glass hit my lips, my phone started vibrating like crazy on the coffee table. I lowered my wine glass and picked up my phone.

“Hello?” I asked. I should have checked the caller ID to see who it was. I’m just so used to answering without looking. This time it would have prepared me for what was about to come.

“I need you to come pick me up,” Spencer’s tone was low as he spoke. I raised an eyebrow and looked towards the front door. “Right now if possible, please,” his tone sounded serious, yet incredibly panicked. I just saw him not even 2 hours ago. He was fine then. He should be at home, reading, or sleeping. Why is he so panicky?

“Spencer, is everything okay?” I stood up and went towards the front door. He stayed silent for a moment, and shuffling came from his side of the call. I slipped my sweater and shoes on before grabbing my car keys to leave.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sighed, clearly lying. I swallowed back my sarcastic comment and shook my head.

“Where are you?” I asked as I got into my car. He stayed silent for a moment, probably trying to figure out what to tell me.

“The bar,” his voice was even lower. I dropped my shoulders and pressed my head into the headrest.

“Didn’t you leave with everyone else? What happened?” I asked after a moment of silence.

“I’ll tell you when you get here,” he whispered before hanging up. I let out a deep sigh before tossing my phone onto the passenger’s seat. I drove in silence, very annoyed that I had to go back out, even though I was already in my pajamas. Even though I was annoyed, I was more concerned about Spencer and why he was being so cryptic on the phone.

When I finally pulled up to the bar, Spencer was sitting outside on the curb. His face was pressed into his hands, clearly, he regretted something. I pulled up just in front of him before I got out.

“What happened, Spencer.” I looked down at him. A few of the patrons outside were looking at me and my pajamas (which consisted of sweatpants and a sweater). I glared at them as I stood in front of Spencer.

He took a deep breath before looking up at me. Blood was trickling down his nose (which looked broken), and a cut was on his lower lip. On his jawline, there were a few more, slightly deeper, cuts. His left eye and cheekbone were already turning a deep blue/purple color. And the back of his hands and knuckles were black and blue and bloody.

“Spencer,” I gasped as I looked at him. He pressed his lips together in a thin line as he looked up at me. “C’mon, I have stuff at home,” I whispered as I offered him my hand. He stared at it for a moment before taking it. He winced as I pulled him up. His nose was wrinkled as he placed a hand on his side. Please tell me this bastard doesn’t have broken ribs.

Spencer silently got into my car and I looked at all the people outside. I glanced over my shoulder at the man in my car before booking back at the people outside.

“Do you guys know what happened?” I asked as I folded my arms over my chest.

“You’re toothpick boyfriend there picked a fight with someone twice his size,” a guy spoke up. I looked in his direction and dropped my shoulders.

“Not my boyfriend. But thanks,” I muttered before getting back into my car. Spencer stayed silent as I sat, placing my hands low on the steering wheel. “You’re not going to tell me what happened?” I glanced at him as I started the car. He looked over at me and slightly shook his head. I let out a tired sigh before taking off and speeding towards my house.

“I... I got into a fight with someone at the bar,” he kept his voice low as we entered my home. I gestured towards the couch, silently telling him to sit down. “Guy was a beefcake… Like Derek,” he muttered. I stared at him for a minute before disappearing into the kitchen. I grabbed my arsenal of a first aid kit, and a bag of frozen peas (and a dishrag to go around it). I handed him the peas as I sat beside him on the couch.

"Spencer, you can’t just go up to a dude bigger than you like you're Captain America. You end up in my living room with a black eye and a bloody nose if you do that," I said as I popped open my first aid kit. Spencer looked at me as he adjusted the bag of frozen peas on his face.

"You seem to forget, I'm a part of the FBI. I'm used to stepping up to dudes much bigger than me and getting beat up." He watched me as I pulled out a gauze pad and some sterile tape.

"Okay, true. But you, Spencer Reid, weren't at work when I picked you up. You were at the bar," I pointed out as I grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. "It's not like you to just beat up a guy for the hell of it. You're always calm, cool, and collected. What's gotten into you," I asked as I poured some of the hydrogen peroxide onto a paper towel.

"I don't know," he kept his voice low as I moved closer to him. He seethed slightly as I pressed the soaked paper towel to his cheekbone. "It's not like I was at that bar alone," he muttered once I finally moved away from him.

"Yeah, but, Spence, you stayed behind for a reason. No one knows why you stayed behind. Usually Luke, and JJ even, know why you do something. But you stayed behind at a bar for no reason. And then I get a call from you, asking to pick you up?" I whispered as I peeled open a butterfly band-aid and pressed it to the shallow cut on his cheekbone.

"I guess I really don't know what came over me," he lied. It was clear that he lied. I dropped my hands to my lap and looked at him. "What?"

"It doesn't take a profiler to know that you're lying, Spencer," I muttered as I moved my hand to his jaw. I wrinkled my nose at the gnarliness of the cut there. It was much deeper than the one on his lip. Blood wasn’t oozing out like a gusher, but it was bad enough to be fixed as soon as possible. "You'll need stitches on your jaw," I whispered before going back to my first aid kit. My voice broke slightly as I dug around for the stitch kit I kept here. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and down my nose, falling into the kit on my lap. I didn’t mean to cry, I didn’t want to. He’s my best friend and the fact that he isn’t telling me why he did what he did… kinda hurts.

Spencer reached out to grab my hand. I looked back at him and shook my head. "Why did you get into a bar fight with a random guy?" I whispered as I wiped my cheeks. Spencer's nose twitched as he kept his eyes on my face.

"The way… the way he stepped up… to you… Words can't describe what I was feeling," he kept his voice low. His words were hesitant as he spoke them like he was sure that he was about to lose something. "And, you know… I never look for conflict for the thrill. But something about this guy just…" his tone got a little bit rough. The way his face twitched told me he was reliving the memories of the fight he just had nearly an hour and a half ago. I watched as he pulled the bag of peas from his face. He shook his head in frustration.

"What… what guy are you talking about, Spencer," I whispered as I stared at him. I should be preparing to stitch the gnarly wound on his jaw, but I can’t. He looked at me, something on his face was starting to scare me… And it wasn’t the black eye or bloody nose. It was the emotion he had that scared me. He wasn’t angry or annoyed, he seemed mildly frustrated and… There was something else, I just couldn’t name it.

“When you went to the bar, to get more drinks,” he swallowed roughly. I finally started to prepare the needle with the thread. I glanced up at him as I poured more hydrogen peroxide on a paper towel.

“This is gonna hurt a bit,” I whispered as I pressed the paper towel to his jaw. He winced and squeezed his eyes shut as I continued to clean. “I went to the bar more than once, Spence, you’ll have to be more specific.” I turned his head so I could get a better view of his wound.

“There was this guy. He kept approaching you whenever you got more drinks. It was obvious he was making you uncomfortable,” he spoke before I started fixing him. He winced again.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling more than bad that I’m the one doing this. “That’s what you get for having me stitch you up instead of going to the ER where you could have lidocaine,” I chuckled lightly. Spencer glanced at me. “Because I don’t have any here, not even patches,” I smiled lightly. I probably would have been the one to stitch him up at the hospital too. I’m the only doctor he trusts, other than himself. That being said, I’m the only medical doctor he trusts.

“I’d rather go to my doctor friend to have stitches done,” he whispered. He flexed his fingers a bit. “I did it for you, you know,” he looked at me as I pulled my hands away from him, finishing the stitch work on his face. I grabbed a tube of antibiotic ointment and the gauze.

“You know I’m capable of saying no to men who make me uncomfortable, Spencer, I work for the FBI, too, you know,” I laughed, reminding him that we were in fact co-workers. He watched as I placed a small piece of gauze on the stitching. Spencer gave me a knowing look, causing me to smile at him. “Okay, for the most part, I can say no.”

“Yeah, see, that’s why I went up to this guy. Gave him a piece of my mind… And then he gave me a piece of his mind in the form of a swift punch to the face.” Spencer smiled softly at me. I shook my head as I began cleaning up. That sounded just like Spencer though. Trying to talk to a guy about not being kind to one of his friends, only to be punched in the face.

“I think it was a little bit more than a swift punch to the face, Spencer,” I laughed as I pulled my gloves off. “How much do you even weigh?” I asked, trying to picture noodle boy Spencer Reid facing off a guy bigger than him. I’ve seen him go toe-to-toe with scary unsubs before, but this was different. Something about that image seemed fake.

“About 153,” he whispered as he placed the bag of peas back on his eye. I looked back at him as I stood up. The bag looked a little soggy and damp due to condensation and the warmth of his face.

“I’m going to get you a new bag of frozen peas and a glass of water,” I stuck out my hand to take the peas from him. He smiled as he handed the bag of melted peas.

“I’d do it again, you know,” his voice followed behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see that he was, in fact, following me into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter as I got a new bag of something frozen for his eye. I needed to buy new ice packs, otherwise, I’d give him one of those.

“Really now?” I asked, handing the bag over to him. He gently placed it over his eye and nodded. “You would get so messed up, more than you already are to protect my honor. I mean, you said you weigh about 153. Would you really do that?” I pulled the fridge open and pulled a bottle of water out. I placed it on the counter beside him. The image of him fighting a buff guy came back to my mind and I had to refrain from laughing.

“For you,” he started speaking, causing me to look at him. For me? What does he mean for me? My heart started to beat faster with nerves and anxiety. “For you, I would get beat to smithereens,” he whispered as he reached out to hold my hand. I stared at him and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, letting him take my hand into his. I should have cleaned his hands too, put ointment and bandages over them. I wrinkled my nose as I stared at his hand. Part of me wanted to pull my hand away and get the proper things to clean his hand, but I knew he wouldn’t allow that to happen. He knew that his hands needed the proper care, but I don’t think he 100% cares at the moment.

“What do you think it means?” Spencer asked, squeezing my hand lightly. I looked up at him, my shoulders dropping and tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. He looked back at me, his still expression frightened me a little bit. “I… I love you. That’s what it means,” he swallowed as he spoke. I stared at him before blinking. Tears started racing down my cheeks again, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

“You…” I took a deep breath before throwing my arms around his torso. Spencer let out a breath as he wrapped his free arm around my body and held me close to him. His scent calmed me in a strange way, but I was okay with it. “Next time you decide to get into a bar fight, you better make sure everyone else is there,” I whispered as I looked up at him. I pressed my chin into his chest as I stared at him. A small smile twitched onto his lips as he looked down at me.

“And have everyone place their bets on if I’ll get out of there alive? Why do you think I waited till everyone left?” Spencer asked, keeping his hands on the small of my back. I smiled and placed my hand on his uninjured cheek before going up on my toes to kiss his lips.

“I love you too, you know,” I whispered as he pressed his forehead to mine. Spencer smiled knowingly and nodded.

“If I didn’t know I wouldn’t have gotten into a bar fight and called you to pick me up,” he whispered as he brought a hand to rest on the back of my head. I smiled before laughing lightly.

“Let’s go lie down. I’ll get you something for the pain,” I whispered, my thumb lightly rubbing his cheekbone. Spencer swallowed roughly and shook his head.

“No, no, it’s okay. I don’t need it. I’ll be fine,” he whispered, “Although, I would like to lie down. I’m exhausted.” He nodded. I smiled.

“Okay, suit yourself.” I shrugged before stepping away from him and leading him towards my bedroom. “You didn’t have to do that, Spencer, I hope you know that,” I whispered once we were both comfortable on the bed. Spencer rolled over to face me, pulling the blanket up to his face.

“I know. But I think we wouldn’t be where we are if I didn’t. And I would do it again if it meant being here with you like this,” he whispered as he rested his hand on my face. I looked up at him and smiled.

“I’ll let you be the one to explain why we showed up to work together and why you were beaten up at work tomorrow,” I chuckled and moved closer to him. He laughed and nodded before pressing his lips to my forehead.

“Glad to.” He looked down at me with a pleased smile.

{***}{***}{***}

Spencer and I stood side by side in the elevator. Both his hands were now bandaged to protect the open wounds on his knuckles, but one of them was clasped around one of mine. I smiled and looked up at him.

“Do you know what you’re going to say to Emily when she asks about your new facial injuries?” I asked, bringing my hand to gently touch the stitches on his jaw. He hummed before shrugging. “Because you’re the least likely to get into a bar fight,” I laughed and retracted my hand when the door dinged open. We looked at each other one last time before stepping off the elevator, hand in hand.

“I can get in fights,” Spencer scoffed as we walked into the bullpen. I held back my cackle and shook my head. People looked over at Spencer and me as we stopped at his desk.

“Sure, you can get in ‘fights’, Spencer. If those fights are about Doctor Who and Star Trek.” I smiled at him. Spencer smiled at me before resting his hands on my waist. “But not bar fights,” I added as looked up at him.

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” Luke’s voice came from the conference room door. Spencer and I both looked in that direction and saw Luke, JJ, Tara, and Matt standing at the door. I looked back at Spencer and smiled.

“Well, as you can see, I am checking up on my patient.” I lifted a hand and gestured at Spencer’s face. JJ looked at Spencer with wide eyes. “Our wonderful Boy Genuis got into a bar fight last night and called his trusted doctor friend.” I smiled as I rested a hand on his chest.

“Wait,” Emily started as she stepped out of her office with David by her side, “Spencer got into a bar fight?” she looked at Spencer and me. I looked up at Spencer with an amused smile.

“Yeah, sure, Spencer got into a bar fight… But are you not looking at the way his arms are arou-” Luke started but stopped when Penelope loudly entered the room.

“Are you guys finally together?!” She shouted as she came up to us. I turned away from Spencer and smiled. “Shoot! I owe JJ $10,” she pouted and looked towards JJ. She was still looking at Spencer with concern.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, keeping her eyes on Spencer.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Went to the best doctor I know,” he laughed as he wrapped his arms back around my waist. He pulled me so I was flush against his chest, making me laugh. “I’ll live. Just a mild disagreement last night at the bar.”

“Yeah, which ended up in you losing a fistfight.” I rolled my eyes. Penelope was staring at us in awe, clearly enjoying the sudden cuteness that was Spencer and me.

“I just can’t wrap my head around Spencer being in a bar fight,” Tara said as she looked at Spencer and then me. I laughed.

“I tried telling him he’s the least likely to get into a bar fight, and he didn’t believe me.” I looked up at all our friends and co-workers. They shared a light laugh and nodded.

“Okay, I’d love to hear the stories of how this came to be and this bar fight… But we got a case,” Emily spoke up as she looked at all of us. I pouted and looked up at Spencer. He grasped my hand and followed behind me towards the conference room.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

#shadow posts stuff #shadow writes stuff #masterlist #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid fanfiction #pls validate me

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helloalycia · 4 years

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cheater [one] | kara danvers

summary: after catching your girlfriend cheating on you, kara happens to be there for you when you've never felt more alone

warning/s: cheating I guess?

author's note: there's another two parts to this because it was pretty long and I had to split it lol soz guys

part two | part three | masterlist | wattpad

"I think that's a wrap," Kara said with relief, smiling as she closed her notebook. "I can begin writing this up tomorrow."

"I can't wait to read it," I told her honestly, returning her smile. "You've got the quotes, you've got the story, you've got the pictures. It can't go wrong."

Kara chuckled as she began to pack up. "You're right. Thank you for staying late with me to help me finish the prep. I owe you."

"It's nothing." I waved her off as I also stood up and packed away. "You've helped me out a ton of times. It's the least I could do."

She didn't say anything, but the appreciative smile on her lips said enough. I checked the time on one of the many clocks hung on the walls of CatCo and decided to give my girlfriend a quick call.

"Hello?"

"Anna, love, hey," I said, an automatic smile appearing on my lips. "What are you doing right now? I thought we could hang out tonight. I know it's late, but Kara and I finished up some work so I thought I could stop by."

Anna sounded tired as she answered, "Aw, babe, I'm glad that you got your work done, but I'm half asleep between episodes of The Office and I don't think I can stay awake long enough to do something. I'm sorry."

I shook my head, despite being on the phone. "Oh, no, it's okay, no need to apologise. I'll leave you to it... I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow," she replied. "Love you."

"I love you, too," I said, before hanging up.

"That Anna?" Kara asked, glancing up at me as she grabbed her bag. "She doing good? I haven't seen much of her lately."

"Yeah, she's good, she's been busy sorting out that new summer segment for the fashion section," I said, pocketing my phone and grabbing my own bag.

"Oh, yeah, I saw, that looks pretty cool," Kara nodded as the two of us began to walk to the lift.

"Yeah," I agreed, a little half-heartedly.

It went quiet as the two of us rode the lift down to the lobby, until Kara suddenly spoke up.

"Hey, erm, since you've not got plans, do you want to maybe get some ice cream?" she asked, before a confused smile appeared on her face as if she was unsure to why she was asking me in the first place.

I smiled with amusement. "I guess, yeah. Bit random, I must admit."

Kara rubbed the back of her neck as she glanced down at her shoes. "Yeah, well, I'm in the mood for something sweet. And it can be my treat. Y'know, for helping me."

I shrugged, still smiling. "I won't say no to free ice cream."

She met my eyes, a glint of excitement in her own. "Great. I know a place. It's a little out, but it's really good."

As we walked out of the lift, I nodded. "You know your food, Danvers, you have all of my trust."

She laughed, giving me a glance before leading me outside to hail a taxi.

I'd hung out with Kara a handful of times – we worked together and naturally became work friends, so I was used to her random ideas and acts of kindness from her. So, allowing her to take me to get ice cream downtown at almost midnight was definitely a little out there, but nothing too unusual.

"What d'you think?" Kara asked, a massive grin on her face that made her blue eyes sparkle.

"This is really good," I admitted, chuckling when I saw her first pump.

"I knew you'd love it," she said, before accepting her own ice cream cone off the salesman.

"You know what you'd love?" I asked, a thought coming to mind. She hummed as she dove into her ice cream, unable to speak. I smiled with amusement as I continued. "Mr Whippy."

"Mr what-y?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mr Whippy," I repeated, noting her urge to laugh. "It's an ice cream we have back in England. You get it from ice cream vans in the summer and it's basically a soft, white ice cream. They put sherbet, sprinkles and whatever sauce you want on it. Usually raspberry though. Then they add a flake and it's complete! It's the best thing ever. Immediate sugar rush. You'd love it."

"Sounds like my kind of thing," she said, eagerly.

"Definitely," I agreed, walking out of the ice cream shop with her.

"Right now though, this is definitely hitting the spot..."

I stopped listening to Kara as I looked ahead and furrowed my eyebrows. There was a restaurant opposite the ice cream shop and it looked like my girlfriend was sat inside, laughing over dinner with another girl. Huh..?

"...and you're not listening. What's up, Y/N?"

Kara followed my gaze and judging by the way she tensed up, my thoughts were confirmed. I wasn't imagining it – Anna was definitely sat there with another girl. Or should I say she was now kissing another girl.

"Y/N... I don't... I..."

Kara hesitated, unsure what to say, but I could feel her staring at me with pity.

I reached for my phone and called Anna, waiting as it rang. I looked up and saw Anna interrupting sucking face with a girl who I didn't recognise to check her phone. I swallowed the lump in my throat as she checked the caller ID and declined the call, before getting back to the girl she was with. I chewed on the inside of my mouth as I locked my phone, forcing myself to look away.

"Y/N–"

"Am I alright to go home?" I asked, my voice surprisingly quiet and steady.

Kara tried to meet my eyes, but I avoided hers, embarrassed enough as it was.

"Yeah, of course," she replied, squeezing my arm gently. "I'll get you a cab. Come on."

I nodded and followed her, but not before glancing behind me one last time. I don't know if I expected to not see anything, but that wasn't the case. Anna was still sat there with somebody else, leaning into her and laughing at whatever.

She was still cheating and I was still left hurting.

***

My eyes were glued to my computer screen when I heard her voice, calling for me like usual. Except it wasn't like usual because now I knew the truth.

"Babe, I thought I'd drop by your desk and see how you're doing." Anna leaned down and tried to kiss me, but I moved my head, resulting in her kissing my cheek. She frowned as she pulled away. "Hey, I'm sorry about last night..." No, you're not. "I know you wanted to hang out, but I was falling asleep." No, you weren't. "But you hung out with Kara, right? You said you got ice cream?" Yeah and I saw you cheat on me. "Sounds fun!"

I swallowed hard and forced a small smile as I looked up to her. I tried to understand how this woman who I'd grown to love could throw it all away as if it meant nothing, so she could be with someone else? If she wanted to break up with me, she should have just done it. I would have preferred that over being cheated on and used like an accessory. I used to look at her and feel love. Now all I felt was pain.

"It's okay, I did end up going out with Kara," I said, maintaining my voice and any stutter. "It was nice. But I was thinking that maybe we could go out for lunch today? If you're not too busy?" Too busy making out with other girls.

"That sounds great," she agreed, a plastic smile on her face. "I'll see–"

"Sorry to interrupt," a woman approached, and I widened my eyes when I realised it was the woman from last night. She was the new fashion intern. "Miss Fox, we need you to look at the layout for this week's issue. It's a group effort."

I felt my mouth go dry as I looked between them both. They were smiling innocently, but their eyes spilled a million secrets. She was cheating on me with the intern?

"How many times have I told you, Katy, you can call me Anna," Anna said, playfully. "I'm not that much older than you."

"Right," Katy agreed, playing the part. "My apologies, Anna."

"I should get going," Anna said, looking to me with a smile, "but I'll see you here in a few hours to get lunch."

I nodded, unable to get words out without screaming. Anna blew a kiss towards me before following Katy out of here. My stomach turned at how many times I'd seen them together in the past and how I never knew. I didn't notice Katy much – I was a news reporter, not fashion. I rarely saw her. But she saw me evidently. Everybody at CatCo knew Anna and I were together, so she wasn't exactly in the dark. She was knowingly with my girlfriend. And knowingly playing me, just like Anna.

I tried not to let that sour thought disrupt me from my work, but it was hard. I felt like somebody was sitting on my chest, squeezing it tighter and tighter and making me extremely uncomfortable. I just had to make it to lunch, where I would confront Anna and make her admit that she was cheating on me. That she was a horrible fucking person. That she broke my heart and that she broke me. She... she broke me.

Lunch time rolled around soon enough and I found myself walking towards Noonan's with Anna when I stopped us from going any further. Every second more I spent pretending I didn't know felt like a disgusting coat of shame I was carrying. I didn't know how she did it – the very thought made me feel revolting. I couldn't even walk to the coffee shop with her, let alone sit through a lunch with her. I had to do it now.

"Why did we stop?" Anna asked, confused as she turned around to look at me. "What's–"

"You're cheating on me," I blurted out, before breathing out slowly. No going back now.

"What?" she played dumb, raising her eyebrows. "Y/N, are you crazy?"

I clenched my jaw, shaking my head. How could she keep pretending, even when I called her out on it?

"I saw you last night," I said, meeting her eyes. I needed to see the realisation in hers when she knew I knew the truth. The guilt, if any. "Kara took me to an ice cream place downtown. Not somewhere I usually go. But you knew that. That's why you took Katy to dinner down there. Right?"

Her mouth closed slowly as she stared at me with a blank expression, but I could see the desperation creeping in her eyes.

"How– how long has this been going on for?" I asked, cursing inwardly at my stutter.

"It's not what you think," Anna tried to amend the situation.

"I saw you kiss her!" I shouted angrily, earning the attention of some bystanders, but I didn't care. "And you declined my call! I'm not stupid, Anna! Now, how long?"

She looked down to her shoes, purposely avoiding my eyes. "A few months..."

I breathed out through my nose, feeling my heart begin to ache. A few months. She was with somebody else whilst with me for a few months.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"Y/N, what good will this do you?" she asked, trying to divert the question.

"None of this is doing me any good, but I deserve to know," I told her sternly, containing my anger. And I'll know just how stupid I was to trust you.

Anna didn't answer straight away, but eventually, I saw her nod slightly. So, that answers that then. She was sleeping with another woman whilst being in a relationship with me. Lovely.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, finally lifting her eyes to mine. "I didn't want you to find out like this."

"Sounds like you didn't want me to find out at all," I got out, my voice cracking.

My eyesight was getting blurry and that's when I realised that I couldn't contain my emotions for much longer. I needed to go. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of watching me get upset.

"I don't want you to speak to me unless it's work-related," I told her calmly.

"Y/N, please let me explain–"

"I mean what I said," I snapped, before turning to leave.

I speed-walked away, hoping to God that she wasn't following me. If she was, she would have seen me wipe the stray tears from my face and suck up a deep shaky breath.

When returning to the office, I made sure I looked presentable in the toilets before heading to my desk. On the way, I passed Kara at her desk and caught her gaze.

After getting a taxi home last night, I never really spoke to her this morning and I felt a little guilty for just leaving so suddenly. She must have felt very awkward to be with me as I found out Anna's secret. I wanted to apologise, but I didn't trust myself right now because I was still pretty sensitive from before.

Kara flashed me a concerned smile, to which I returned with the most convincing smile I could muster, before I headed to my desk to get on with some work.

I didn't see Anna or Katy for the rest of the day which I was glad for – now if only that could last the rest of my life. I did see Kara however, who kindly decided to stop by my desk towards the end of the day.

"Hey...," she greeted, hanging by my desk but not quite committing to staying.

I appreciated her thoughtfulness and decided to give her my full attention, hoping she'd get the hint she could stay. "Hey, Kara."

She offered a small smile as she sat at the edge of my desk. Concern flashed in her eyes though, as she asked, "How are you doing?"

I pursed my lips, ignoring the sharp pain in my heart. "I'm fine."

Kara nodded, and I almost thought she would accept my answer and leave it there, but then she looked back to me with a nervous look.

"I know it's not any of my business, but did you talk to Anna about... you know?"

I nodded slowly, eyes flickering to my desk. "Yeah. I did."

I looked up when I felt Kara's hand rest on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry," she said, a frown on her lips. "About what happened."

"You don't need to say sorry for anything," I said with a careless shrug, before adding, "but I'm sorry for letting it ruin our evening. I was having fun for what it's worth."

Kara cracked a small sad smile. "It didn't ruin anything. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. If you wanna talk about it. Or if you just want to hang out and not talk about it at all. Either way..."

"You're here."

"Yeah."

"Thanks." I looked up and met her eyes. They were kind and generous and thoughtful all at once, making me feel like I wasn't completely alone.

She nodded, her smile still present, before standing up and saying, "I'll leave you to it then."

"Bye, Kara."

***

It hadn't even been a day when Anna tried to talk to me again. She obviously didn't respect me enough, nor feel any amount of guilt enough to leave me the hell alone like I asked.

"Can we talk?" she asked for the millionth time, standing in front of my desk, looking down at me with pleading eyes. "Please, Y/N."

I stayed quiet, continuing to ignore her and instead look at my computer screen. I didn't want to speak to her because I had nothing more to say, and she knew that. She broke my heart and I was just trying to forget about it. Forget about her. I couldn't do that if she wouldn't leave me alone!

"Y/N, you have to let me say something," she tried again, making me roll my eyes. "I want to make this right. Or at least explain!"

I gritted my teeth as I tried to keep up my act of pretending she didn't exist. It was growing increasingly difficult however.

"Y/N–"

"Hey, guys," Kara swooped in out of nowhere, and I looked up, never more glad to see her face than I was now. She glanced between Anna and I before directing her question at me. "Everything okay?"

I caught sight of Anna rolling her eyes in my peripheral, making me squeeze my hands together with annoyance.

"Yes, everything's fine, Danvers," she spoke up, a hint of frustration laced in her voice. "We're just talking. Do you mind?"

Kara pursed her lips in response, merely ignoring Anna's passive aggressiveness and instead looking to me for a response. I gave her a pleading look and she nodded subtly before smiling.

"Y/N, you up for that coffee run yet?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Already locking my computer and grabbing my bag, I nodded and stood up. "Yeah, sounds good."

Anna groaned quietly as I walked around her to stand by Kara. She tried to reach out to me, but I stepped back as if she had the plague and thankfully, Kara stepped between us, staring her down.

I didn't know what she did, but it seemed to work as Anna backed off, letting Kara and I walk away. I breathed out with relief as we headed to the lift, feeling grateful for the blonde's presence.

“Thanks for that," I said when we were in the lift. I looked up to meet her eyes, offering a small smile.

She returned the smile, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Any time."

Kara was a kind person. It was something I'd always known, I mean, we always helped each other out with our articles and she was always interested in what was new with me at work. We were good friends, but since breaking up with Anna, I truly saw how much our friendship meant to her. A lot more than I thought, apparently.

***

A week had passed since I broke up with her and I was trying very hard not to concern myself with why we broke up. If I sat for too long thinking about the fact that I obviously wasn't good enough for her, or that she would have rather strung me along whilst with someone else than break up with me, or how how I was evidently a shitty girlfriend to be faithful to, then I would have broken down. And I didn't want to be one of those girls who cried her heart out because of a break up. I refused to be that girl, be that cliché.

But sometimes clichés are clichés for a reason.

I was signing off on a parcel at the reception on our floor when I felt Kara's presence beside me.

“Hey," she greeted me. "How are things?"

She'd been checking in on me whenever she saw me around the office, and even took me out for lunch and coffee when she could. I knew what she was doing and I appreciated it a lot. She truly was a blessing.

I smiled, looking up at her. She was already staring at me with sparkling blue eyes.

"I'm good, Kara," I assured her. "Especially since you asked me twenty minutes ago when you stopped by my desk."

She pressed her lips together into a sheepish smile as she looked down to her shoes with embarrassment. One of the few reasons left to smile was Kara's silly antics, and I found it amusing that she felt the need to constantly make sure I was okay. It was cute.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure," she said, making me chuckle.

"It's cool," I said, accepting my parcel from the receptionist.

I was ready to walk back to my desk, but the sight of Anna and Katy kissing behind Kara caught my attention. I forgot how to breathe for a moment, feeling like the wind had been smacked out of me, as I saw them making out. She'd moved on already, with the girl she'd cheated on me with. Because she'd done that. Cheated on me. She cheated on me.

I noticed a few people in the hall glancing between them and I, evidently picking up on the fact that we were no longer together. It didn't take a genius to know what they were thinking – I was pathetic. I was supposed to move past all of this, but seeing Anna there, absolutely fine... I couldn't take it anymore. I was sick of bottling it up.

Kara glanced behind her, following my gaze, and gasped a little. I felt my throat close up, my cheeks heating up with embarrassment. I felt like an idiot.

"I'm sorry, I've gotta go," I croaked out, neglecting my parcel at the reception desk and backing up.

Kara spun around to me again, her eyes widened with pity. I hated it, knowing she felt bad for me. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat as I walked away, eventually running to the toilets so I could escape this suffocating situation.

Fresh tears were flowing from my eyes when I reached the toilets. Thankfully, the cubicles were empty and nobody was here to see me look so pathetic. I stopped by the sinks and clutched my stomach, feeling sick.

My hands began to shake and it was as if all the pain from the past week had reached its boiling point and was spilling over. My heart felt like it was crumbling, the image of Anna and Katy kissing playing in my mind over and over. She didn't want me anymore. She stopped wanting me a long time ago.

I looked to the toilet door when I heard it open, glad to see it was just Kara, though I was still embarrassed because of what she was seeing.

She stopped when she saw me, frowning as she took in my appearance. "Oh, Y/N."

I shook my head, one hand still clutching my stomach tightly. "I– I don't understand h– how somebody can do that."

She didn't know what to say, but when she stepped forward, I moved towards her, falling into her embrace. She held me close as I cried into her arms, finally letting it all out. It felt good to stop avoiding my pain. But it hurt a lot. I was convinced my heart would never recover.

Kara simply held me, rubbing circles on my back and telling me it would be okay. I wasn't sure if I believed her, but she had a special talent of making you want to. She was warm and comforting and her voice was soft and inviting. I wanted to believe her.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, but I eventually ran out of tears, leaving only pure embarrassment as I pulled away from Kara. I avoided her eyes as she kept ahold of my hands, squeezing them comfortingly.

"I think I'm gonna take you home, Y/N," she said quietly, and I could feel her eyes piercing through me. "Is that okay?"

I wanted to tell her it was okay to leave me. That I'd be fine and I could get home myself. I didn't need her help. But the truth was, I didn't want her to leave. Not now. I didn't want to be alone.

I nodded and she breathed out a little, keeping ahold of one of my hands as she held me out of the toilets. I kept my eyes glued to the floor as she told me to wait on the side as she went to grab my bag and hers. It didn't take her long to join my side again, grasping my hand in hers.

She ended up taking me back to my flat, coming inside with me and sitting me on the couch. I was surprised that she joined me.

"When you're ready to talk, I'll be here," she said, and I looked up to see her watching me with certainty. "Even if you don't want to talk, I'll be here."

"Thank you, Kara," I said, my voice dry, making me clear my throat.

"Come on, we can watch some TV," she said, moving forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

She flicked between the channels and eventually settled on Brooklyn Nine-Nine. It played for the next ten minutes or so, but I wasn't listening. I was trapped in my own thoughts, unable to stop thinking about how I ended up here. How I ended up crying over somebody who I once loved. This time last week, we were happy. And now... now I didn't know what to do.

"Y/N," Kara said, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked up and she was frowning, moving forward to wipe away some tears from my face. I didn't even realise I'd been crying again.

"She did something wrong, yet I'm the one suffering," I said quietly, swallowing hard. "How is that fair?" I paused, my fingers fidgeting uncomfortably. "How is it fair that she's making me feel insecure about myself? I feel like... I feel like this is my fault... I know it's not, but... but it feels like it is. She... she cheated on me. It had to have been my fault. Nobody just cheats..."

"You're not to blame, Y/N," Kara said, resting a hand on my fidgeting ones. They stopped. "You did nothing wrong, you hear me? Cheating on somebody is disgusting. There's no justification. She's the one who should feel insecure. It's all her fault and... gosh, one second."

She let go of me and pulled her phone from her pocket, raising it to her ear. "Alex, what's up?" I watched as she seemed tense, turning around slightly. "But you can handle it, right? ...No, I'm with Y/N... I'd prefer not to... You've got this... Okay, thanks. Let me know how it goes later... Bye."

She turned around and pocketed her phone, relaxing into her seat. "Sorry about that."

"You can go if you need to," I said, feeling guilty for keeping her. "It sounded important."

"No, no, it wasn't," she said, waving her hand, before peering at me with sincerity. "I'm here. And I was saying how none of this is your fault. It's hers. She should feel horrible."

"She seems pretty happy with Katy," I pointed out, smiling sadly. "I'm the one crying on the couch."

"Because you actually have feelings unlike some people." Kara shook her head. "This isn't your fault. I can promise you that. I know it's hurts. It will. Because you loved her. But you'll get through it. It won't hurt forever."

"You make it sound easy."

She cracked a small smile. "I know it's not. But you're not alone."

"You've said."

"Well, I mean it."

"I know." I rested my hand on hers and met her eyes. "Thank you for being here. I don't know if it's because you feel obligated to, since you were there when I found out, but–"

"That's not it," she cut me off.

"Well, thank you," I finished, nodding slightly. "You're gonna get sick of my face eventually, but I'll make the most of having you around, Danvers."

"You can't get rid of me that easily, Y/L/N," she joked, leaning forward to pull me in for a side hug. "I'm–"

"Here, I got it."

"Doesn't seem like it."

I couldn't help but smile as I glanced up at the blonde, seeing the amusement dancing in her blue eyes.

"There's that smile I missed," she pointed out, grinning down at me.

I rolled my eyes and faced the TV again, but my smile was still present. I wasn't getting rid of Kara and I wasn't complaining. I didn't want to be alone and she was better company than I could have asked for. God bless Kara Danvers.

#kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagines #kara danvers imagine #kara danvers #supergirl x reader #supergirl imagine #supergirl

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chocolatemillkk · 5 years

Text

Call me Out (CM)

"Soo what are we doing again?" I ask for the fifth time, hugging my arms to my chest. It was an unusually cool evening in LA and although my bottom half was covered appropriately in a pair of jeans, I had on only a tube top leaving my bare arms covered in goosebumps.

"Well Rick forgot his ID and so did Omar and Anth's still on the damn phone." My friend sighs. "So I don't know!"

"Just go to the club without us!" Rick says for the millionth time and I seriously wonder why we didn't do just that. "We'll come next time."

"The whole point was to go together since we've all finally got fake IDs." Omar pouts. "They can go if they want. But-"

"We could go to one of those all-age clubs-"

"No! No, those suck-"

"I have an idea." My friends all pause at the new voice. It was Anth's friend Conor who he introduced us to earlier that evening. We'd all said hello and included him in the group without a question even though he was obviously British and not from around here. Which we all secretly thought was really cool...but were just too LA to admit. But Conor hadn't gone unnoticed for me-catching my eye and sending my heart racing. Not only because he had the same accent as my favourite movie ever made at the time (Bridget Jone's Diary) but he was cute in a way that wasn't intimidating. "Those of us with ID can get the beer and we can find some place to hang out." Conor licks his lips. "We can still make the most of the night that way."

All eyes are on the group newbie until Omar speaks up, obviously relieved from his fomo: "You're genius. Let's do that."

"Okay, my basement's empty we can head there. So how about Y/N goes and..." Malia stares at our newcomer for an uncomfortable second as she blanks on his name.

"Conor." I cut in. "Conor and I will go."

At the sound of his name, Conor looks up sharply at who said it. I feel myself blushing clumsily as I try not to look as excited as I felt but I couldn't help it! I would finally get some time alone to get to know my sudden new crush.

Since the closest liquor store was right up the street, Conor and I head off and tell the gang we would meet them at Malia's. As we walk, I'm nervous. I fold my arms into myself, and then unfold them, and fold them again before Conor offers his leather jacket.

"Oh I'm fine," I say politely. Damn. I wasn't fine in any way. But I couldn't just accept his-

"No take it. I'm warm." Conor begins stripping the jacket off before I could politely decline again. "I've got a jumper underneath anyway."

"A jumper?" I ask, looking at the sweatshirt he wore underneath and back up at his face.

"Yeah," he picks the fabric up to show me. "A jumper?"

I take the jacket from him and eagerly drape it over my shoulders; its leftover warmth blankets my body. "Is that like, a British thing?" I ask, intrigued and still staring at him, forgetting we should be continuing our walk instead of standing under the street lamp.

"I don't know...I guess?" Conor seems just as nervous as me as he shoves his hands into his pocket. I tug the jacket closer around my body which catches his attention, his eyes roaming all over me. I sense a shift in him, almost unnoticeable except in the way that he finally meets my gaze.

"You've got really nice eyes," he says and then immediately looks away.

"Thanks," I laugh nervously. "You've got a really toasty jacket."

He looks back up, his cheeks a slight pink under the sodium lights, and his tensed face melts into a smile that warms me up from the inside. He has a playful glint as he tugs at the jacket's lapel, "I'm a hot guy-didn't I already say?"

He was hot. But I don't stroke his ego. I turn away instead, continuing again on our trek to the store, calling out behind me. "If I remember correctly the only thing you said was you were warm!"

He laug loudly into the night and the ice between us. We begin talking and asking about the other, greedily tearing up the rare time alone, wanting to know each other as well as we could before we had to return to our group. By the time we get into the liquor store I've told him about growing up in LA, how I hated school, and how my brother drove me crazy and he's told me about the town he's from, his younger brother and sister, and why he was in LA--to work on music. And I was impressed, he was only my age.

"So are you any good?" I ask him as we track down the aisle with the cheaper beer. We're the only ones inside so we try not to draw too much attention.

"No. Not yet," he laughs and his face does the squinty thing I'd started to find adorable. I stare at him as he leans down and picks up two cases.

"Well will you let me hear it? When it is good?" I ask seriously.

He straightens up and turns to me, nodding his head vigorously. "Yeah," he answers, his voice suddenly serious. "I will."

Two Years Later: "I've heard it then," I'm on the phone with Conor as I look out the taxi window into the crowds of tourists. I was on my way to my boyfriend's place and the radio surprised me with a familiar voice. "Your song just came on the radio and I've finally heard it!"

"I was on the radio?" Conor asks from the other side of the world. I wished he was here to hear it with me so I could see his reaction myself. "You heard me in LA?"

"I'm in a taxi," I say. "And I'd recognise your stupid voice anywhere."

"And?" Conor asks, not hiding his excitement at all.

"It's still not good-I told you to only show me when-"

"Shut up!" Conor shouts and I have to move the phone away slightly as his belly-laugh emenates from the phone. "You're a little shit!"

"No!" I insist. "You're shit!"

"Don't say that," Conor's humour is slowly leaking out of his voice and I decide I'd taken the joke far enough.

"It’s-as you would call it-bloody amazing! I was totally kidding. The song. Is. Amazing."

"Really?" Conor asks, his excitement apparent again.

"Yes!" I shout. "You should be so proud of yourself! Soon you'll be as big as Beiber!"

We go back and forth as he shies from the compliments and finally accepts them. We move onto the cliffnotes version of life updates before I reach my destination and tell him I had to go. This was the way it had been with Conor and I over the two years we'd known the other. After an intense first time hanging out, we'd eased up and stuck to the safe option of being good friends. The constant distance between us and the fact that we shared a mutual friend group, prevented us from hooking up-if things went south, it would be very awkward. Plus, we were both busy figuring out our own futures. Mine, currently, was going to school so I could get into acting.

But I still couldn't control my erratic heartbeat whenever I spotted Conor in LA. There was an undeniable attraction, made stronger with the easy chemistry we had. He had a pull on me none of my other crushes or boyfriends ever had. But after a few weeks every time, I had to let Conor go back home to London and as painful as it was each time, it would be made more painful if we were anything more than friends. So I simply chalked it up to a juvenile crush and forced myself onwards.

One Year Later: "Y/N..." Conor pulls his pants onto his hips and secures it with a belt. "I don't know what to-"

"It's fine," I laugh like I thought everything that had happened over the last 10 hours was all one big joke. But my hands shake under the covers and I have a hard time looking him in the eye.

I had turned 21 yesterday and my boyfriend dumped me the morning of because I was being too "clingy”. He was leaving in the afternoon, flying out across the country for some modelling jobs he'd landed and I was mildly upset he had to leave on my birthday. Meanwhile, Conor suprised me at my apartment, completely oblivious, with birthday champagne and a balloon he'd stuck a picture of his face on. It was his only free night because he had to fly out the next morning.

But he'd found me: mascara on my cheeks, crumpled pyjamas, and a fistful of tissues. He sat and listened so patiently before helping me clean up. Once I'd cried it out however, the inevitable happened. We popped the champagne, swore at my ex, drank the bottle between us, and then reached for each other. Because of loneliness or our long history, we ended up in bed. My bed. And I wish I hadn't drank so much so I could remember even half of it but as soon as I woke up I knew I fucked up. I was simultaneously heartbroken over my ex and absolutely gutted that my first time with Conor was under circumstances like this.

"You were comforting me. We're both adults now and we made an adult decision right? It's fine." I sit up, making sure the blankets were wrapped tight around my torso. Conor looks at me hesitantly, his hands dropping to the side and he looks just as gutted. We weren't supposed to let this happen. Not like this. We knew eventually we would sleep together with all the sexual tension we had between us-but never ever like this. This felt cheap...we could barely even remember it.

"So you're okay I have to go again?" Conor asks slowly.

"I'm fine. You have a life to go back to." I say more confidently than I felt-I didn't want to be clingy again. And what would I even say if I wasn't okay? It was a stupid question to ask. "And my shift starts in a couple hours anyway-acting doesn't pay the bills!"

Conor throws his shirt on before sitting beside me. He looks down at my hands clasped around the covers and then my collar where the pendant I always wore rests. He picks it up and rubs it like I usually did when I was nervous. It was hard to reconcile the person Conor put on in public to this gentler version of him in my bedroom. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I'll see you on the big screen soon enough."

"You'll only see me when I'm good enough," I give him a wry smile, calling him out. He drops the necklace, his hand curving around the back of my neck. For a split second I think he was maybe going to kiss me again but he kisses my forehead instead. I close my eyes, stretching the brief millisecond into an hour, or two, or five. I create some alternate timeline where I can do this all over, so that when Conor kisses my forehead it doesn't feel cheap with regret and stink of pity.

Fourteen Months Later: "It's nothing!" I pull my hand out of Malia's grip but she grabs my hand again.

"You call that a promise ring?" She asks skeptically of the diamond ring my boyfriend had gifted me yesterday evening.

"Promise ring?" Anth asks as he comes back with Conor who'd arrived late-a bad habit we'd all gotten used to. I try to stuff my hand back into my hoodie but Conor catches the light glinting off the diamond. I don't want to see his expression but I can't help but watch as it falls, a look of betrayal settling in. It wasn't my fault-not really. Conor and I kept up a false pretense of being friendly after the last time we saw each other but we unravelled quickly the longer we went without addressing it. How could we be the same when we suddenly carried so much baggage?

Our relationship suffered. Meanwhile, my boyfriend came back to LA on his knees begging for forgiveness. He had been stressed out about his shoots and he regretted our breakup as soon as he'd landed at JFK. So I kept my own regret from that night to myself and taken him back. A month in and we'd moved to New York for the year where he modelled and I miraculously landed a very small Broadway part. When we moved back, he'd given me the promise ring. That was last night. Malia messaged me this morning to tell me the gang was in town and we were meeting up again. I didn't realise Conor would be there too. Our conversations had fizzled out once he realised I’d moved to New York with my boyfriend.

"Y/N's settling down," Anth teases. "Y/B/N is making a wife out of you!"

"It's not an engagement ring guys!" I insist but it sounds false even to me. It was supposed to be one. But the look of horror on my face when my boyfriend got on one knee at the beach had him stuttering and then insisting it was just a promise ring. So I had accepted like the coward I was because I was too scared to be on my own again. Three years of our relationship and Anth was right-I was settling.

"That's a big ass diamond," Conor jokes but it has a sharp edge to it. "Good for you. So uh-I'm getting a drink."

When I track Conor down, away from the group, he's stony faced.

"It's been a while." I say, feeling like that first night we met when I didn't know how to talk to him.

"Yeah," his eyes flick down to my hand. "A lot's happened it seems."

"Con-" I try.

"I'm alright." Conor cuts me off.

"No. You're not." I call him out.

He clenches his jaw, glancing at me and then sighing. "I know we fucked up Y/N but why did we just stop talking? You're bloody engaged and why am I only finding out now? I've never even met your boyfriend!"

"It-I know-it's complicated. We...complicated things!"

"It shouldn't be complicated! It was just sex!" Conor shouts. "It wasn't complicated! I'm still your friend!"

"Right..." I look down and try to blink away the sudden tears. That all it was to him? "Right. Yeah of course...obviously-duh! It was! I just got...I was unsure! I didn't know what you thought about it. But I'm cool if you are. We're still friends?"

"Yes we're still fucking friends!" Conor is instantly a ball of sunshine as we slip off our past like an oversized, stuffy jacket. I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers, trying to toss out the confused emotions I was feeling. Conor squeezes my hand and I snap out of my thoughts to his smiling face and when he looks at me it feels like that night, I first saw him smiling under sodium lights. When we wouldn't even know this was how we would turn out. I wish I could go back then. Maybe tell Y/N to keep things simple.

As his mouth moves to tell me something, I can’t focus as my head buzzes with the words he'd said earlier. But maybe it's better this way, I think. I didn't want to end up hating Conor, or be hurt by him, when I cared for him this much. I would just have to see it his way, I decide. Just sex. Only friends. "-always your friend."

One Year Later: "Happy birthday!" I shout at Conor. He was in LA for his 24th and the party was massive. Like this-many-people-could-never-fit-in-my-house massive. "Look at you! You're so spoiled now!"

Conor crushes me against him-it had been a good six months since I'd seen him. I was travelling all over for a movie I'd gotten a small role in and barely had time to see friends let alone Conor. I missed his energy. And he was super famous now too. Somewhere between seeing him last on New Year's, breaking up with my boyfriend and moving out, auditioning like crazy, and finding a role-Conor had blown up online and my heart swelled every time I saw his ad or his music somewhere. Despite our messy mishap, I'd realigned myself to realise Conor and I could only ever be friends.

"I love your jumper," I say-the term an inside joke by now.

"This is actually a hoodie." Conor teases.

"Fuck I can never get the terminology right!" I laugh and wrap my arms around him again, his "hoodie" a snug fabric to rest my head on.

"Y/N." Conor says seriously so I look at him again, concerned. "Y/N I-I think I'm finally good!" Conor shouts in my ear and when I give him a questioning look he explains. "My music! I think it's finally good enough!"

"Oh Conor," I can't help but grab his face between my hands and squish his cheeks. "It was always good enough!"

Conor laughs causing his face between my hands to morph oddly so I let go. "You're not as much of a bitch as you used to be!"

"Watch your mouth!" I pull his hood over his head and continue tugging it over his face until he apologizes between laughter. When I let go, he takes off the hood and wraps his arm around my shoulder. We stay that way for the rest of the night as he introduces me to everyone we meet. They all assume I'm his girlfriend, joking with me that I should watch out. And I didn't blame them with the way Conor's hand was always on my shoulder or my waist, my hips, touching my hair, leaning in to say something in my ear. I crave his touch every time I don't have it and by the end of the night, I feel drunk on desire more than any of the cocktails I'd had. So when Conor looks at me with a question in his eyes at the end of the night, I don’t call him out. I simply take his hand and go back home with him. Just sex. Only friends. Always friends.

Eighteen Months Later: Since Conor's 24th, we'd made a routine. Unless one of us were in a relationship, every time Conor was in LA, he would stop by. We'd catch up on life and then end up in bed for however long he was here for.

"I'm only in LA for two week." He would say. Or "I go to New York next week." Or "I have a flight on Thursday for Dubai."

It wasn't permanent, he meant to remind me. It wasn't a relationship. It was just sex. And we were just friends. And this was just a bad habit. Or a good habit-was there such a thing? I always looked forward to it. It felt like we were each other's safe space, a secret the other held close to their chest. Minus the emotional attachments of course. It happened so often like this that I'd forgotten I ever wanted more. Being like this actually gave us more time to catch up on every detail of each other’s lives. We opened up about our insecurities, our goals, and all our shared memories. When Conor was staying longer he would work on things in the same room I was in or he would help me practice lines and we created small bubbles in time where everything was blissful between us as long as we were together. It was harder some days than others like when I wanted to kiss him in public or gush to my friends about him-but it was worth it to be close again.

Months Later: I had my first anxiety attack that morning. I didn't even realise I was having it until my knees hit the carpet and I tried to look up at the time.

I had a big audition that afternoon for a children's movie. My agent was so sure I was going to get it-she'd talked me up to every friend she had in high places and knew the company hiring so I knew I had it in the bag yet a movie on such a scale was terrifying. Conor had told me he was coming over after auditions to see how it went and I was oddly nervous to see him too-I'd gotten out of a short relationship so it had been a while since Conor and I got together. And then my mom called me worried about my brother who'd been making all the wrong choices in life as of of late which kept running through my mind. So when my agent called to tell me they wanted a Skype interview now, I knew that usually meant it was a courtesy interview and they didn't actually want me. I did the interview with a really bad connection, my anxiety heightening with every scene looking at their impassive expressions. As soon as it ended, I ignored my agen't phone call and suddenly found it hard to breath, my vision narrowing as everything looked off, and the room tilted around me. I fell to my knees and located my phone, calling the only person I knew who'd understand: Conor.

By the time he arrived, I had managed to calm down but I still couldn't take a deep breath nor could I talk in full sentences. Conor squeezed my hands and helped ground me until I could focus and then he'd gathered me in his arms so carefully, so lovingly, that it scared me enough to start crying. He mistook this for being sad about not getting the part and helped me to bed, setting up his laptop beside me. I didn't correct him, falling asleep as I felt exhausted, and awakening to a vibrating hum.

I don't open my eyes, anxiety clutching my chest as I remembered where I was and what had happened. But the humming beside me helped, the dread slowly unravelling it's hold on me. When I do open my eyes Conor's concentrated on the screen as he hums the same few lines again and again. And the tenderness with which I felt towards him sends me tipping into the panic zone so I get up and yank the covers off. I couldn't do this. We said we wouldn't.

"Hey you're up," Conor looks at me. "I'm gonna hum something does it sound like something you've already heard or is it-"

"You have to go." I say abruptly and he stops talking immediately. "I need to be alone Conor please go. Now."

He stays for a heartbeat before closing his screen and getting out of bed. His mouth opens to say something but he looks at me and closes it, bowing his head and moving out the door. I listen as he leaves and take a deep ragged breath. I felt wild, like a frantic ball of confused energy was buzzing within me like a pinball machine. Like a panic attack hangover and as soon as Conor goes I want him back. I make it so far to the front door when I retreat until my back hits the wall. What was I doing? But I craved the comfort of his touch and it urged me to call him back. I couldn’t though. He wasn’t my boyfriend, I couldn’t keep doing this. But the sudden sound of a knock at the door echos my pounding heartbeat.

I carefully open it to Conor, running his fingers through his hair. I barely register what he says; opening the door wider, just wanting him back in. He drops his bag to the floor as he closes the door behind him. In an instant, his hand finds my waist, our foreheads touch, our eyes locked. It felt like we were the center of a volcano of passion and desire, boiling as his hand tightens on my waist, bubbling as my hand slips around the the base of his neck, simmering and leaking as I close my eyes and he crashes his lips into mine.

I can't remember what happens next-not chronologically. We're bumping into walls and shedding the day, as well as our clothes, and as we ease into the sheets the volcano bursts with hot molten lava, destroying anything that was ever left of us before.

I must have nodded off again right after because I wake to Conor in bed facing me. Behind him, my window shows streaks of pinks in the sky as day goes down to dusk. Conor's eyes are watching me carefully, his expression unreadable as he watches me watch him. I trace the bridge of his nose to distract him but he continues staring, something budding in the way he looks at me. It was scaring me and I tell him so.

Yet Conor doesn’t take his eyes off of me, his thumb brushing my cheek and my breath catches as I realise why I was so scared. His eyes hold no trace of its usual playful spark. Instead they're unguarded and clear as day with what he was thinking. Shit. This was it. This was the end. We'd both fallen. Made this something important.

"When are you leaving LA?" I ask, almost begging him to reply with a deadline to our romance for some sort of normalcy. The only way this worked was when he put a time stamp for us to stop waking up in each other's arms. Even if it was one month or one week we would have the most fun as the end date was our safety net.

But when he shrugs and continues to gaze at me, my heart feels like it would burst from my chest. And it practically does as all the hopes I ever ignored of Conor and I as something more than friends, all the fantasies I ever had of Conor wanting more with me, the thoughts I suppressed before they could even manifest-shoving them into a dark corner of my mind-roll forward and flash before me. This was Conor-the first person I think I ever fell in love with. And I can admit it to myself now, looking at him-at us, like this. This was Conor-how could I have ever thought we could be anything but in love in the end? So I remove Conor's hand from my face and hold it to my chest, willingly showing him how much I was feeling in the moment. "I feel it now, can you feel it too?" Conor takes my other hand with his free hand and places it against his own palpitations. My own races faster; was this our demise?

"I feel it too." Conor answers slowly.

"But this is exactly what we said we wouldn't do." I remind him. What he said we wouldn't do. What we weren't.

"What was that exactly?" Conor asks me and his mouth flicks up in a slow smile as the playfulness returns in the blink of an eye. He's weightless as he rolls over me and brings his lips down in a kiss so tender, I never realised he had it in him. When he moves away, he rests his forehead against mine, his lips a hair's breadth away from my own. The look he gives me is a challenge, a dare like we would give when we were younger. His brown eyes looking into mine are daring me just one simple thing:

Call me out.

#conor maynard #conor maynard imagine #conor maynard imagines #youtube imagines #fic #lyrics #buttercream imagines #buttercreams #sarah close #jack maynard #joe sugg #i know this jumps all over the place but i really wanted to write something like this #hope its easy to understand #i spent so long on this #ahhhh #thatcherjoe

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jojo-lity · 5 years

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I'd like a scenario where a female scientist from the speedwagon foundation discovers that santana is alive (and perhaps has already awoken before she found him) at some time in the far distant future and she finds that the last living pillar man is the most interesting person she's ever met, and he finds that he feels similarly towards her.

here we are, sorry for the wait!

ao3 link

Heavy, exhausted eyes stared up at the dark ceiling. The flight to her new home had been rough, but she couldn’t bring herself to risk oversleeping. After a successful internship, she had been offered a position in one of the Speedwagon Foundation’s most top-secret facilities, and the last thing she wanted to do was compromise a good first impression by showing up late.

Showing up in a state of sleep deprivation might not have been much better. Sighing, she slipped out of bed, trudging to the disorganised kitchen. If she wasn’t going back to sleep, maybe some early breakfast would make her feel a little more prepared for the day ahead.

It proved a good decision, perhaps more for the accompanying cup of coffee than the food itself. While she still couldn’t say she was at her brightest, it was enough to get her out the door on time.

On the surface, the facility looked exactly the same as the place she had worked before. The building’s structure was identical, and it was full of busy people in the familiar uniform, carrying various artifacts of interest to the organisation. The only notable difference was the battalion of guards surrounding every entrance, giving her and her ID a stern stare before parting to let her in.

She had been assigned to the study of a particular project. She hadn’t been told very much about it, only that it had been going on for a long time, and even in the building where everything was secret, any information about it was to be kept strictly under wraps. Apparently, there would be catastrophic consequences if anything got out. It made her nervous, but there was a certain kind of pride to be taken from it, if she was being trusted with such a sensitive matter. Nothing could possibly make her let her employers down.

“There you are.” Her direct supervisor didn’t seem like one for greetings, but at least she wasn’t unfriendly. “Right now, you just have to watch. Let us know if anything changes.” Was there a trace of pity on her face? “Do a good job, and you’ll be able to do something else soon.” From there, there was little left to do but show her to her station- a single chair and small desk, overlooking a large glass case.

The glass was thick enough to appear bulletproof, and harsh light was shining on it from every direction. It seemed strange, when all she could see in there was a rock. It was a bit larger than a human, and beautifully carved- Hang on. Looking closer, it appeared that there was a human face etched into the stone. She was no art student, but was it really possible for human hands to bring out such breathtaking detail? If not for the rocky texture, she almost could have sworn that the full, delicate lips were about to take a breath.

“Santana.” She jumped a little. Had she really been so absorbed that she had forgotten her supervisor was standing behind her? “That’s what we call him. Not sure who thought of it, but…” She shifted a little, almost uncomfortably. “Calling him “it” didn’t really sit right.” She might have been about to say more, but a machine on the other side of the room beeped, and she left the new employee to her work.

—

On the first few days, the sheer novelty of her new workplace, and her growing curiosity about exactly who or what “Santana” was, had been more than enough to get her through the hours of watching absolutely nothing happen. But as the week reached its end, she had to admit…

It was getting extremely boring.

At least her colleagues seemed to trust her, since they were leaving her alone in the room more and more often, especially during the later hours. Having no friends or family in the area, she had no reason to keep a regular schedule, so she had gone ahead and taken on most of the night shifts. In the middle of the night, the lab was a tranquil place, enough that her focus had slipped once or twice.

As luck would have it, it was in one of those moments that her lifeless, unmoving responsibility began to stir.

Body finally strong enough to withstand the constant ultraviolet assault for a short time, the protective hardness of Santana’s skin started to recede, allowing him to move and take in his surroundings. He wasn’t in the well, and Joseph was nowhere to be seen. He only saw one human, who was turning towards him with an expression of horror.

“I have to call someone!” Shocked enough to exclaim out loud, she grabbed her phone, dialling the number she had been given. It went to voicemail, prompting her to speak. “Hey, I…”

Her phone fell from her hand, the call spontaneously ending as it hit the floor. But she never dropped her phone. In the few seconds between that moment and the last time she had looked his way, Santana had escaped from the impenetrable glass, and was towering over her with a vaguely unimpressed look. “Don’t call anyone.”

Apparently satisfied with her timid nod, he turned away from her, eyes scanning every machine in the room. “Humanity has advanced yet further,” he muttered, lifting a computer monitor from its place on the table. In a few deft movements, it was in pieces in his hands, each individual component carefully turned over and examined.

He clearly wasn’t human, if he could move so quickly and effortlessly. But what was he? Why had he been in what was essentially a cage? Why was it so imperative that he didn’t escape? All he was doing was inspecting the rest of the computers, tapping at their keys and intently watching the results on the screens.

“You’ve created minds to think for you.” He turned back around to look at her. Or rather, only his upper half turned. It was a bit unsettling, even with the chiselled perfection of his face in full view. “A creative method to surpass your limits.”

“Thank you… I mean, I didn’t make these! It wasn’t even my idea.” The nocturnal schedule must have been taking its toll, since her stomach flipped at the idea of potentially being complimented by him. Maybe she needed more regular meals.

“Then whose was it?” With one last hit of a button, every ultraviolet light in the room shut off, leaving only a dim fluorescent glow. “Perhaps they’re worth meeting.”

“Well, they’re probably dead now… or most of them, anyway.”

“Hm. Really.” He blinked, drawing her attention to the gear-like symbol below his eye. “Human lives are… perhaps too short. Though I’m sure that’s the next problem you intend to solve.”

“It’s… one of them?” She wasn’t sure just how active the rest of the building was at this time of night, but someone was bound to notice soon that most of the room’s functions had shut off. She didn’t know why Santana had been held captive. All she knew was that as long as he walked and talked and reasoned like any living person, she couldn’t see him back in that position.

“We need to go.” It wasn’t easy to maintain any kind of authority, especially when he stared down at her as if she was interrupting something. When her voice wavered a little, she repeated her statement with more force behind it. “Or else we’re both in for it. Who knows what they might do?”

Thankfully, he seemed to accept it. “I’m taking these with me.” That was all he said before lifting a table that carried most of the equipment, holding it steady in his hands and walking right out. All she could do was struggle to keep up, watching as he effortlessly swept aside any obstacle between himself and the outside world.

—

“I can’t believe we did that.”

“There’s no reason not to believe what I did. It wasn’t even the first time.” After breezing out the door, Santana had continued out into the desert. Feeling somewhat responsible for what she had allowed to escape into the world, and still full of curiosity about his existence, she had seen no reason not to follow. She probably wouldn’t be able to show her face at the Speedwagon Foundation again.

After dismantling all his takings, he was in the process of reassembling them into a single machine. She knew a thing or two about computers, but he worked so quickly that it made her head spin. And he claimed to have never heard of computers?

“Well, I can’t believe what I did. I worked so hard for that job, and now here I am…” She swiped at the ground, collecting a handful of sand and letting it slip between her fingers. “Maybe I’ll get arrested.”

“Arrested?”

“Yeah, uh… guys with guns will come get me, and put me in a room, and I’ll probably have to stay there for a bunch of years. And it’ll suck… I mean, it’ll be the worst thing ever.” The more she talked about it, the more of a certainty it seemed.

“But you already live such short lives.” She was surprised to find that his attention was fully on her, his voice signalling a faint interest that it had been completely devoid of before. “Why would you be deprived of any of it?”

“I don’t know, it’s… just how we do things?” Now that she thought about it, it did seem odd. “Seriously, though, it wasn’t my idea. And whoever came up with it? Long gone.”

He shook his head in a short, tight motion. “And they told me nothing would change in two thousand years.”

“Two… thousand? Who’s “they”?” Was there any use in asking questions? Everything either of them said only seemed to raise more questions, more than they could answer even if they wanted to. “Never mind.” She fell silent, trying to listen for police sirens.

Some time passed, anywhere from a few minutes to an hour, until the structure Santana had built made a booting-up sound. It was followed by the familiar glow of several monitors, each displaying something different. He seemed to be paying special attention to the one rigged up to what resembled a small radio tower.

“Nothing mechanical is approaching us,” he informed her. “And I would sense the presence of anything biological.”

She nodded, seeing no reason to argue. Even if it was just an extremely convincing fake, she wanted to believe that he knew what he was doing. There was something fascinating about his absolute command over what he knew, and even what he didn’t. It made her wonder… “Why are you helping me?”

“You helped me.” Of course his answer was simple, and made perfect sense. “It seems that it was important for you to keep me in there. And yet you never asked that of me. It’s… interesting.”

There was no reason for him to lie. She was interesting to him, and not just as a curiosity, a representative of an unknown species. It made her feel a little less authentic, but rather than give up, she found within herself the determination to get to know him as a person. He had revealed enough to prove himself more than interesting.

“So, now that you’re out… where were you planning on heading?”

He blinked again. “Nowhere, just yet.” He gestured to his computer, now displaying words and images from all over the Internet. “I have a lot to learn.”

Waiting for the objection that never came, she moved herself closer, eventually settling herself next to him. “I think I do too.”

#santana #battle tendency #scenario #she her pronouns #sfw

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