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khasiehondra · 11 months

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A Shadow of an Eagle

Chapter 7: Ruining Our Relationship: Sebastian

Summary: Ominis tries to distract Sebastian from his feelings toward Alice and Andrew's friendship. When it backfires and interests Sebastian to find Slytherin's Scriptorium. Alice ends up tagging along and discovering the secret to opening the room-and Sebastian learns why they are called the Unforgivable Curses.

After blowing up half the crates in the Undercroft, Ominis was able to stop Sebastian from destroying the pottery in his fit of anger.

"Sebastian, this is not how we deal with our anger."

"Ominis, this is exactly how we refrain from punching someone in their pretty little face." Ominis was holding Sebastian back with his arms behind him. For someone who can't see a damn thing he sure knows what he is doing.

"I'm taking that your plan did not go so well." Sebastian went slack in Ominis's arms.

"I saw it Ominis. In her eyes. We wanted each other. When she left, I knew she was going to go to him." He had to fight back the emotions stirring inside him. "I've been so distracted by her that I've neglected Anne. It might be best that she stays with him. Someone who can give her everything."

"Sallow, I have never once heard you say something reasonable. Don't try to start now," Ominis let him go with a shove.

"Let's go to dinner, Ominis." They left the Undecroft talking about anything but Alice or Anne. Sebastian was particularly interested in the Slytherin Scriptorium that Ominis told him about. As Ominis trued to avoid the topic, Sebastian egged him on stating that it was for the curiosity of Hogwarts history.

"Sebastian, for the umpteenth time, I am not helping you find Slytherin's Scriptorium." Annoyance quickly faded from Ominis's face as he stopped at the double doors to the Great Hall. "I seemed to have dropped something on the way here. You should go on ahead."

He nodded and before the doors had fully closed, he saw what Ominis had heard. A girl's giggle echoed from the shadows of the dungeons stairwell. There were two shadows coming from around the corner and Sebastian basically had to force himself away.

Within a few minutes, Andrew had entered the Great Hall and sat across from Samantha Dale, his face radiating a smile. Where in the bloody hell is Ominis? It was as if fate was slapping him in the face. He witnessed Ominis hold the grand oak door for Alice. She seemed annoyed. He whispered something to her and she rolled her eyes. If only he could see the fire in her. Sebastian couldn't help but let his eyes follow her along the Ravenclaw table. Instead of sitting with Samantha, she plopped down next to Andrew. Alice looked like she was head over heels for the blond. The knife in his chest twisted when he saw him put an arm around her and plant a kiss on her cheek.

Sebastian let him fork drop on his plate and pushed himself from the table. "I'm behind on my studies. Don't wait up, Ominis."

"I just sat down! You'll be a stubborn prick without eating."

"Not hungry." He threw his legs over the bench and caught Alice's eye for a moment. There was a faint sense of sadness, but she was pulled back into the hustle and bustle of dinner. She's gone. I don't have a chance anymore. He shuffled to his dormitory and closed the curtains around his bed.

Two weeks went by and Sebastian filled his time by constantly asking Ominis to find the Scriptorium with him. Time and time again he was denied.

"I can't believe he won't tell me." Sebastian mumbled to himself. He was pacing back and forth around the dungeons. "I'm his best friend."

"Somehow we keep meeting this way." Alice had popped up behind him. She wore a sweet smile with her hands behind her back. Damn, she's beautiful.

"Ah," wait, I've got an idea, "Ominis informed me of a secret room that Salazar Slytherin made, almost as a private study. He refuses to tell me more about it."

"What if I try to talk to him?" Alice gave him a soft smile and her eyes glimmered like water across the early morning ocean. He was taking advantage of her affinity to help others, but he didn't feel bad after seeing how she had been with Andrew the past few weeks.

"Be my guest," He gestured to where Ominis was sulking on the other end of the dungeons.

He waited for a a few minutes when Alice and Ominis strode up. "You two follow me." Ominis held out his wand and lead them down the corridors. He stopped between three braziers. "This was the clue I heard from my aunt. Something about three's."

"Well, three heads are better than one," Sebastian claimed, trying to lighten the cranky mood.

"It's two heads are better than one," Ominis sighed, exasperated.

"So by basic maths, three is better than two." They bickered as Alice walked to the center of the three braziers.

"CONFRINGO!" She twirled toward the next one, Sebastian having to pull Ominis from the oncoming flame. "Confringo, Confringo!" In an instant, the fires were lit and the wall across from them shifted.

"You are brilliant, Alice! Let's go!" Sebastian was walking toward the opening and turned to encourage them all forward.

"For your aunt Ominis." Alice took his hand and guided him down the stairs. To think I would envy my best mate.

The wall slammed behind them, leaving them nowhere to go but forward. The stairs felt like they went on forever. At the base of the stairs, there was a giant door with a snake covering the face.

"I can hear it, speaking to me." Ominis walked as if in a trance. "I can understand them, snakes. I'm a parselmouth. Almost all are descendents of Slytherin himself.

"Ominis, I think you need to speak to it! Please." Alice begged, obviously wanting to get out.

It was terrifying. Hearing his best friend speak with hissing and dark tones. He couldn't help but hate feeling left out. "Between the two of you I'm beginning to feel left out." He felt Alice's dagger eyes. I may have fucked up.

"What do you mean by the two of us?" Ominis had whipped his head toward Alice.

I have to get us off the topic. "Never mind, forget it."

They honestly owed most of their success to Alice. Her ability to understand puzzles was impeccable. When they thought they reached the end of the tunnel there was a solid crunch under Sebastian’s foot. I'm guessing this is the aunt. He realized Alice was fumbling with a couple pages of parchment. "Alice?"

"I found her diary pages, Sebastian look at the floor." She pointed to a word burnt into the floor: CRUCIO.

He gulped. "I think we have to cast the cruciatus curse on someone."

"Wait, you have to be joking." Dread filled her eyes, her complexion paled.

"We should ask Ominis. He knows. It's a sensitive topic."

"I'll talk to him," her tone was somber. She's going to hate me.

A few minutes later she returned crestfallen. "He says he won't do it. We really are trapped here."

I could get us out of here. But she may never want to speak to me ever again. "I know the curse. When you speak an Unforgivable Curse. You have to mean them. I could teach you, in case you ever need to." She was pensive.

"I'll learn it." The lesson was quick and made the room's mood dark.

"Alice, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. We can figure something else out." He held her arms, seeing her small shakes. I can help figure something else out. Please look at me, Alice."

It was like something from his nightmares. Tears were slowly falling down her cheeks. Even with all the fear she held her head high. "Sebastian." Her voice was shaking, even when she was attempting to be strong. "Cast the curse on me."

Everything stood still. How could I ever mean to harm you? "Alice, I couldn't."

"You have to Sebastian. I understand."

He looked into her eyes. In this moment, he saw her sacrifice. Her will to save them.

"I can't hurt you."

"Try."

Instead of her, he thought of his loss. That she would never love him. He would never be able to hold her in his arms. In the next few years her and Andrew would be happy together, leaving him. His anger built in him. Sebastian raised his wand and shouted, "crucio."

Red electricity circled her body. Screams filled the space. The sound of her knees crumbling to the floor. Ominis rushed over to them worried, "Sebastian what did you do?"

"Lici," Sebastian choked out. When the curse had taken its toll on her, Sebastian crouched down to her and tried to put her weight on him.

"I'm fine. Did it work?" She is definitely not fine. "Sebastian, could you get a wiggenweld potion from my pocket? I'm tired." Her voice was soft even while she was at her weakest.

Alice's pockets were endless, but he was able to find the little green vial and pop it open for her. Even after the potion she looked like she would rather be dead.

"How about we see what this is all about?"

"We went too far this time, Sebastian. Alice was hurt. I think you need to talk to her." Sebastion had his head against the tree overlooking the Black Lake. The chill has become more prominent. Ominis had wanted to get some sun, but Sebatsian had figured that they would be discussing the events of the Scriptorium.

"I know. How do you think I feel?" When they had escaped the Scriptorum with Slythern's spellbook, he made sure to pull Alice aside to apologize. It was obvious she was lying when she said that they were still on good terms.

"What were you thinking of to make the curse that powerful?"

"Losing her...failing everyone I loved. I wanted the people who kept taking everything away from me to suffer." While Ominis has gone on and on that Alice hasn't been the same since, no one even asked him how he felt.

"As long as you've learned your lesson." The book in Ominis's hand closed with a thud. "I know it's your birthday next week. The house wants to throw a true Sebastian Sallow celebration."

"That sounds like a splendid time. Just Slytherin house? Or are we sneaking off to have this little gathering?"

"You know Leader and Garreth would throw a fit if they couldn't make a toast with you. I'll let the others know that the party is on.

The week passed by with intensive study sessions in the library and late nights reading the spellbook. What Sebastian didn't expect was that Alice was actually avoiding him. On Thursday, she thought that he had not seen her and she turned the other way. One time, he caught her peaking around the corner. She had practically jumped out of her skin. More often than most, she would be cuddling Andrew outside on the grounds. No matter what he tried, he could never say more than a few words to her.

When the next Friday came around, Sebastion awoke with a solid hit on the head. "Happy Birthday. Whatever you do, don't ruin these."

"Good morning to you too, love." Ominis had tapped him with a weighty present. There was no use saving the wrappings. Inside the parcels was a small, travel cauldron and some dragonskin, fingerless gloves.

"Ominis, this is very generous and thoughtful. Thank you."

"A present you will be ecstatic for will be at your birthday tonight. Promise me you won't let Weasley convince you to drink more than you can handle?"

"I cannot make any promises but I will try and hold out." He gripped the gloves, remembering that Alice had a similar pair. "Will Alice be there? I doubt she would come without Andrew."

"She doesn't like him like that. If you weren't so stuck in your own world you would realize that." He turned to go down to the Great Hall, leaving Sebastian gripping the gloves tight as he tried to understand Ominis's words.

By the time classes were over, Sebastian was ready to get his sixteenth birthday over with. Sharp had assigned them a fairly complicated essay over Amortentia potions, Onai had them writing a dream journal (which he would have to lie about since they were fairly crude as of late), and Howin wanted a full essay and drawing of a demiguise. Nine came around and he darted to his party, ready to end the day with fanfare.

"Some of my favorite classmates!" Sebastian was flushed from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. Garreth kept pouring him more and he was happy to oblige. Originally, he planned on waiting for Ominis's mystery present but as 11 rolled around he got impatient. He finally reached Leander, Amit and Samantha. "Thank you for celebrating. Let loose, dance with someone." He pointed his finger between Samantha and Leander. "You two, go dance!" He didn't realize it then, but he potentially caused a Samantha to experience her own fairy tale.

"Before that, Sebastian could I have a quick word." She didn't give him the option as she pulled his sweater and took him to the side. "She's going to be here and you need to talk to her. Don't act all coy, you know who I am talking about." As quickly as the conversation started, it was over.

A few other girls had come to talk to him, all lacking discretion in their desire to be on his arm that evening. At one point he had spotted Andrew with a few of the other older students, but it seemed as if Alice was no where in sight. I'm an idiot for this. "Thanks for coming. It is an honor that all of you would be here."

"No one throws a party like a Sallow party," chirped Alister Carrow.

"You all should go mingle, talk to the girls. I know there is a group in the corner eyeing you all. Accept you Larson, where's the girlfriend?" It was a cheap shot and he knew it. The alcohol was making his cunning nature weak.

"We are on a break." He looked disheartened. "Alot is happening in her life. She's my best friend and I plan to wait for her if she still wants me." They aren't together.

"Sorry about that, mate." Not sorry at all. "Cheer up, at least she still wants to have you around. Good sign, eh?" Please give up. Andrew nodded appreciatively. "Have fun, must continue my rounds."

He didn't see her anywhere. Part of the reason he made rounds twice was in case he missed her. In all honesty, he needed a breather. He made his way through the corridors until he spotted the ghost of the one person who had been on his mind for weeks. She had on a different outfit. It was girlier than he had ever seen, but it was cute. The top half of her hair was pulled back from her face, small little pieces falling from the tie. Her blouse was tucked into a cute flowy skirt. The red vest she wore on top framed her features nicely. Sebastian was ecstatic until he remembered she's been avoiding him. He turned to get out of her way until a force almost knocked him forward.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #sebastian sallow x playable character #sebastian sallow x reader #smut #ravenclaw #sebastian sallow x ravenclaw #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x reader #slow burn #harry potter hogwarts legacy

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spookydrreid · 3 years

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Still A Mother

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer celebrates mother’s day with his wife after she has a miscarriage and lets her know shes still a mom.

Requested: Yes

Request: OPEN

Full Request: "i saw a video of a husband who celebrated mother's day with his wife although they don't have one (they lost a child due to miscarriage months ago) and told her that they gonna try again and he knows she's the best mom their future children could have, so if your requests are open i'd like to request this one with spencer if it's fine with you! if it's not and you don't take requests i'd understand ❤️. thank you."

Content warnings: miscarriage, mother’s day, isolation, talks of depression, mentions of food, gifts (?)

a/n: ayyyyeee we are finally getting into my requests!!! We love it, we love it

Spencer knew this day was going to be hard for her. Not even six months after her miscarriage, did Mother’s Day roll around. Spencer had been dreading it, and he knew his wife was, too. He knew she blamed herself for losing their baby, and though Spencer gave her statistic after statistic, it didn’t help.

She knew how bad Spencer wanted children and she wanted to give them to him more than anything. So, when she’d found out she lost their child a mere four months into it, she felt like a failure. In her mind, she couldn’t even do the one thing she was made to do. Spencer had tried telling her that it happens. That many women go through this, but it didn’t make her feel better.

Spencer woke up before her that Sunday, slowly slipping out of bed so he didn’t prematurely wake her. He tiptoed to the kitchen and started the coffee maker, pouring himself some as he started on breakfast.

He went easy, toasting a bagel just the way she liked it and spreading the perfect amount of cream cheese on it. Next, he cuts up your favorite fruits, placing them in the littlest bowl he can find. And then he pours you some coffee, making it just the way you like it. Finally, he puts it all on a little tray, making sure to slip the card and present on it.

He moves slow, placing the tray on the side table as he sits on the bed, shaking you slowly.

“Sweetheart? Wake up, baby.” His tone is soft and sweet, filled with the love and care you love more than anything.

You groan and open your eyes, squinting as your eyes adjust to the brightness of the bedroom. You smile at him and for a moment, life is normal. The grief doesn’t consume you as it normally would. But it doesn’t last, and soon it swallows you whole. Taking hold of every fiber of your soul and squeezing. Its suffocating and Spencer watches the smile fall and you blink away the tears.

“I made you breakfast,” he treads lightly. Something he’s learned to do well in the months since. Tiptoeing around your emotions and treating you like the most precious piece of pottery.

You shoot him a forced smile, sitting up to look up at him with eyes that begged for relief, “smells good. I appreciate it.”

She leans in and kisses him softly. And he knows that she appreciates all he does for her, but it doesn’t ease her pain fully. And that’s what hurts Spencer the most. All he wants is to take away her pain. To carry it on his shoulders so she didn’t have too.

But he can’t. So, for now, he will do what he can to ease her pain and love her unconditionally until she finds her way back to herself.

“I know you do, honey. And I got you something.” He watches her perk up a little and it makes his chest hurt just slightly. He gets off the bed, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. He hides the box behind his back and his heart feels like it’s going beat out of his chest as he sits back down.

“I know this day is hard for you. And I know these past few months have been hard for-“ she cuts him off.

“Spencer. Please.” Her lip quivers but he needs to tell her this. He needs her to know she isn’t alone in this.

“No… you need this.” He grabs her hand, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “I know these past six months have been hard. But I want you to know that you are not a failure. You are so far from that.” He licks his lips as he holds back the tears. He doesn’t want her to see him cry, he knows it will only make her feel worse.

“You are still a mother. You deserve to be celebrated on this day. You didn’t carry our child for long, but you still carried them. And that makes you a mother. And we will try again when you’re ready. We will try over and over as much as you want. But if it doesn’t happen? There are resources. We can adopt, anything. But I will be here through it all, okay? I promise. And you’ll be the most amazing mother to our children.”

She’s sobbing when he’s done, her arms pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Her face falling into his neck as she sobs. Her body shakes as his hands rub soothing circles on her back. He tries to pour all his love and acceptance into that touch.

When she pulls back, he feels like she looks happier. Her eyes are shining and not from her tears, her body looks relaxed and she’s not as tense.

“I-I needed that so much, Spence.” She sobs before leaning in and kissing him softly. “I’ve worried you were going to leave. I was so scared that I’d failed you. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

His heart shatters in his chest. He feels so horrible that she’s harbored these feelings inside for so long.

“You could never fail me. And I would never leave you. There isn’t a thing you could do to make me leave. Nothing. You are my wife, my best friend, the love of my life. You have nothing to be sorry for?” He pulls his other hand out from behind his back and hands her the slim velvet box. “Happy Mother’s Day,” he whispers.

She opens it slowly, as if something would jump out and bite her. But he watches the smile form over her face as she sees what is really inside. It’s a necklace with a small stone in the pendent. Two little feet sit on the back of said pendant. She looks up at her husband as fresh tears fall down her face. She’s not sad, quite the opposite actually.

All’s she can feel is love. And she’s grateful for a break from the pain. But she’s even more grateful for him. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to make it through this life without Spencer. Spencer is her rock, her soulmate. And she knows that one day, sometime in the future, he will make the best father to their children.

.....

Tag List: @worryd0ll @eideticsreid @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @mikewizkalifa @dr-spencerr-reidd @reidsconverse @spenxerslut @ssaalexisreid @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @princesssmooshie @spencersawkward @spencerreidat3am @xoxospencerreid @reiding-recs @aayaissaa @spencerreid9 @vantataem @doctorspenceryeet @lmfaosoph @freakyhood96 @mochionly @k-k0129 @measure-in-pain @rrtxcmt @withasideofmeg @totallyclearwitch @dhmaki @vaella1821 @itwouldburnupintheatmosphere @buckysgirl101 @shemarmooresfedora @tbuhgs @frickin-bats @dazzlingnights @manuosorioh @archiveofadragon @luvofyourlifeliv @reidsbookclub @spencer-reid-am-i-right @coldlilheart @reidsacademia @1800-olivia-rodrigo @sassymoon @nomajdetective @spideygenius @g0lden-cth @breadqueen95 @hufflepuffhaze @doctcr-reid @meganskane @spencersrose

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#Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x fem!readr #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer Reid fluff #Dad!Spencer #Married!Spencer #Criminal Minds Fic

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watercolorfreckles · 3 years

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An idea:

Hero and Villain going to the same therapist but don’t know about the other. The therapist knows both of their secret identities obviously and has to deal with them complaining about each other separately

Bonus scene:

Villain finds out that therapist knows Hero’s secret identity and tries to trick the therapist into revealing Hero (can be flirting, snooping in the office, etc)

Btw, I think you’re doing fantastic with your writing! I honestly can’t believe you haven’t written in so long— your recent work flowed perfectly. Thank you for sharing your talent for writing on tumblr!!! Also I just realized how long this ask is sorry I didn’t mean to overwhelm you lol

Answering my first ask (((finally)). I'm kinda nervous lol! Thank you so much for the sweet words, @glowing-alpaca (it wont let me tag you), that makes me so happy to hear. I'm not sure if this is exactly what you pictured, but this is the direction my brain wanted to go lol I haven't written anything based specifically on someone's request before so I really hope you like this!!

"Villain?"

The villain blinked and Doctor Meadows' office came back into focus. He shook his head slightly to dispel the thoughts nagging his attention.

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked whether you gave what we spoke about last week a try? We talked about finding productive ways to express your negative emotions." Her voice was soft and void of judgment. "You have a creative mind, have you tried anything that has seemed to help you so far?"

Villain's gaze followed the curve of her pen as the therapist jotted a note down on her notepad.

"How can I possibly be productive when that fool in colored spandex is always barging in, getting in my way? What am I supposed to do, mm? Throw some pottery at him?"

The therapist's hands folded in her lap. "Even if you can't control the situation in the moment, you can still find ways to better prepare yourself, then you'll be equipped to process the aftermath in a healthy way. You can't keep Hero from doing things that act as triggers for you, but you can implement some techniques to control yourself better."

Villain scoffed. "What, you want me to try soaking with a bath bomb, sing kumbaya? Nothing will change until that cockroach is out of my way."

Despite the chill to his voice, doctor Meadow's expression was warm and gentle as she regarded him. She was much more sincere than the cold and demeaning therapists he'd met with at the previous facility he'd tried; or the doctor who cowered in fear when he showed up to his first appointment.

"I am confident that with time and effort, we can find a solution that will help you, villain. But you have to put your best foot forward. You have to invest enough in yourself to sow the desired outcome." Doctor Meadows held his gaze without fear, kind eyes and soft smile settling his restless energy.

She always had a way of snuffing out the tension that corded through him and wound him tight.

They had a connection, and Meadows seemed genuine in her care for him. Sometimes he even wondered if she felt more for him than that.

Villain huffed and glanced around the room, taking in the colorful artwork on the walls, the comforting throw rugs, pillows with silly inspiring catchphrases, and soft furnishings making the space feel inviting. He found it far more disarming than the sterile white, desolate offices he'd visited before.

The therapist continued after allowing him a moment of quiet to consider her words. "I understand that we are a ways away from you being in a place where you feel comfortable giving up your...occupation. I believe that we can work our way there, but for now, we have to take steps to minimize your destructive behavior. The intent behind your actions is the key to why you are compelled to do the things that you do. If we start there, we can make changes that are healthier for you and those around you. What things best calm you and make you feel grounded?"

You, he thought, but didn't say.

"Chaos," he said instead, dazzling her with a sharp smile. He crossed his legs, leaning back on the plush lilac couch.

Doctor Meadows didn't flinch. "So when you feel like your life and personal environment are no longer in your control, it comforts you to inflict that same helplessness on other people? To help you feel less alone."

Villain stared at her. Anyone else would have run and hidden at the look on his face.

Doctor Meadows waited patiently for his response. "Do you feel that that is a correct assesment?" she prompted.

Villain straightened to lean forward in his seat. When he spoke, his voice was low. "What gives you that impression?"

"When Mr. Ma--" her eyes widened as she cut herself off, correcting herself, "--when [Hero's superhero name] isn't around, you--"

"What did you say?"

For once, the therapist's blood ran cold at her mistake. "Pardon?"

Villain braced his hands on the table between them, slowly rising to his feet. He towered over her. "Hero. You know his name. Tell me his name."

Doctor Meadows pursed her lips. "I can't do that, Villain. Doctor-patient confidentiality states--"

"--He's your patient," Villain interrupted again, his smile something too sweet, too manic, to be sincere. Like poison.

The therapist tracked his movements while still looking steady and unshaken.

"Doctor Meadows. Juliet. You want to help me, don't you?" he purred, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "If I knew who he was, I could solve all my problems. Not to hurt him, just to keep him out of my way."

His fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. She shuddered in a soft breath, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

"I am not at liberty to share my patient's information. You should be grateful that I don't share yours."

"Sweetheart, let's not pretend I'm just any client." Villain gently took the pencil and notepad out of her hands, setting them aside. Their gazes interlocked.

"Villain--"

"Juliet," he countered, voice honeyed. His free hand landed at the small of her back and he could feel a shiver run through her.

"Villain," she said, tone giving no room to argue. "If you are not willing to respect my rules and the policies I am required to follow, I will be forced to transfer you elsewhere."

He paused at that. The silence stretched. Could he stomach losing her? His therapist, his Juliet, the only person who came close to understanding him?

How dare she threaten to abandon him?

Finally, she shifted slightly under the dangerous look he studied her with.

"Villain. Do you understand?"

Slowly, he lowered himself back into his seat. He clenched his hands at his sides.

She smiled again, and it looked like home. "Good. Take a deep breath. Let's try a few new exercises together to help you manage your emotions."

Part 2

General Taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @deadlygemuwu, @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @thanatoastie , @vlerlove-deactivated20210701, @feyriddle, yet-another-heathen

You're on this list if you've asked to be tagged in any of my writing before. I prefer doing a general list instead of individual ones since that is tedious to keep track of. Let me know if you want to be added or removed. :)

#this isnt my best but i spent a lot of time on it and that counts for a lot! :)#why am i always writing at 2 am #i have problems #didnt edit very much but its fIIINE #hopefully i can get to some continuations you all have requested soon :)#civillain x villain #writeblr #flash fiction #short story #my writing #hero x villain #villain x civillian #fiction

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eskelbigbang · 3 years

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Eskel Big Bang 2021 Masterpost

Here are all the fics and art made this year for the Eskel Big Bang. Congratulations on the hard work, everyone!

AO3 collection || #ebb works tag || #ebb art tag || #ebb fic tag

Below the cut is a full list of all EBB works:

Uprooted (T, No Pairing, 12k) by @rachofspades, art by @drachedraws

When a nondescript notice begging for a witcher's aid catches Eskel's attention on his way back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, he finds himself drawn in by his own curiosity despite his initial reservations. Once he arrives, it quickly becomes apparent that there's something more sinister going on than typical monster attacks, and he's determined to figure out what it is. Fic || Art (1) (2)

These Clay Hands (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.7k) by @aalizazareth, art by @hobbart-art

Eskel is a shy pottery instructor who meets Jaskier during one of his lessons. The two hit it off. Fic || Art

The Empty Safe Job (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 18k) by @iboughtaplant, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

A team of thieves with complicated pasts take down the rich and powerful to help those that get left out from justice. Their latest job should be simple, but an unexpected adversary has Eskel confronting his past. Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys. Fic || Art

the broken vines are an open door (M, Eskel & Geralt & Yennefer, 5.2k) by @trissmarrygoals, art by @flyingyarn

Traveling through Aedirn with his newly acquired child surprise, Eskel stumbles upon a dead body - and with it, a mystery. Fic || Art

With you I'll never be alone (T, Eskel/Geralt, 5.8k) by @dat-carovieh, art by @mondfuchs

From their first meeting, through their whole long life Geralt and Eskel have always been there to comfort each other when one of them got hurt. --- Or five times Geralt and Eskel comfort each other through some kind of hurt and one time they're just comfortable. Fic || Art

Eskel Has A Good Day (G, Eskel & Wolf Witchers, 9.3k) by @gods-no-longer-tread-here, art by @phoenixandjacob

The Wolves (and bard) of Kaer Morhen go on a vacation to the coast, and have a good day. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Tu Me Manques. (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 8k) by @etcorsolus, art by @cvbeebop

In which, Eskel meets a bard who calms him. Body, mind, and soul. Story title is how the French say 'I miss you.' The more literal translation is 'You are missing from me.' Fic || Art

Little Red (M, Eskel/Lambert, 6.1k) by @miahclone, art by @llwynbleidd

Eskel helps Lambert while he's recovering from a serious injury. To distract him from the pain, Eskel tells stories of past hunts. Fic || Art

Constellations (M, Eskel/Geralt, 7.2k) by @dredshirtroberts, art by @dat-carovieh

Eskel loves Geralt but their soulmarks don't match - he'd know. They're witchers, and scars are their business. As he joins Geralt in retirement, Eskel figures whatever he can get with the other witcher will be enough. He might get a little bit more than he thought he was bargaining for, but Eskel's never passed up a good deal. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Trial By Fire (Eskel and Aza's Wild Ride) (E, Eskel/OFC, 11k) by @janzoo, art by @liaonyxrayne

When Eskel rescues his succubus acquaintance from witch hunters, their reunion becomes something more as they're drawn into the hunters' plot. What can they do against a twisted idealist and the danger he presents to witchers and non-humans? Fic || Art

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 29k) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, art by @wolfgeralt

When Eskel is hired to kill an incubus who ruined a noble wedding, he finds that his target is far from a bloodthirsty beast, a too-pretty court bard. Eskel spares Jaskier and they go their separate ways, with Eskel expecting never to see the incubus again. But Jaskier has other ideas. Fic || Art

I Could Eat the World Raw (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 7k) by @buttercupsanddandelions, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

“This is Eskel.” He pushes him slightly forward, “And he just had his conduit moment.” After becoming a mage, Eskel finds that he's been soul-bound to a little lordling. Fic || Art

Something we bury (M, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @heartoferebor, art by @craftgamerzz

“Where’s Eskel?” Ciri asks Geralt, frowning a little. “He went out to do more hunting and gather some potion ingredients. Should be back any moment,” Geralt reassures her. “Ah. Good.” She hesitates a little before deciding to forge right ahead with her next question. She’s asked everyone else in the keep, of course she’ll have to ask Geralt, too. “About his scars…” * Ciri wants to know where Eskel's scars came from, so she decides to ask everyone at the keep about them. Except, they all seem to have different stories... Fic || Art

Lord What Fools These Witchers Be (T, Aiden/Eskel, 21k) by @jayofolympus and @frenchkey, art by aviixrc

When Lambert brings Aiden to winter with him in Kaer Morhen, Eskel is catapulted straight into his own personal hell. It would be easier if he didn’t like the Cat. Instead, he finds himself falling head over heels for his brother’s boyfriend and trying to hide it from a pack of nosy Witchers. If only Aiden would stop flirting with him... Fic || Art (1) (2)

A Moment of Comfort (M, Eskel/OC) by @merpancake

An attack at a brothel begins with blood and carnage, but Eskel finds an unexpected peace in the arms of Cenna. As their paths continue to cross, Eskel carries that same peace within him on his journey through monsters and men. Art

Toussaint's Finest (M, Eskel/Geralt, 9.1k) by @kate-river, art by @justhereforeskel

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever. Fic || Art

Beneath the Shadow and the Soul (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 32k) by @vix-spes, art by @buffskierights

Eskel had the strange feeling that everything was going to change when he passed through Dol Blathanna one year on his way back to Kaer Morhen for winter. He had been passing through a town and, instead of running away from him, someone had exclaimed “You’re a Witcher,” and proceeded to sing at him. He just hadn't realised how much of an impact it would have on him. Fic || Art

Daughter of Fire (T, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 4.9k) by @kittynannygaming, art by @zmezagain

Witchers are sterile, that's a fact. No female human can bear their child. Well, the keyword here is 'human' and a succubus is very not human. And Eskel now has a sweet 7 years old daughter. Fic || Art

Break It Recklessly (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 22k) by @anonymousblueberry, art by @nol-nol

From teenage tearaways to successful adults, Geralt and Eskel have always been inseparable. To the extent that when Geralt accepts a wedding invite with Eskel as his plus one, there’s the assumption that they have finally sorted their shit out and got together, forcing them to keep up the facade or cause chaos for the happy couple. What follows is a crash course in emotions, dating, and working out that love can burn long and slow for a very long time. Fic || Art

The Question (M, Eskel/Istredd, 40k) by @eskelchopchop, art by @stars-in-my-damn-eyes

Eskel's in Ohio when Yennefer calls. He’s reluctant to pick up; he’s still not over Geralt, and he's got zero desire to chat with Geralt's new lover. Turns out Yen isn’t his lover anymore, and this isn’t about Geralt. It’s about witcher’s work. Yennefer owns Portal, one of New York City's most popular gay clubs. A Post-Conjunction Entity (PCE) is hunting her clientele, leaving a string of withered corpses in its wake. The police are doing jackshit. Will Eskel come back to a city full of bad memories and take a job off the books to stop it? He'll sure as hell try. Along the way, he’ll cross paths with Istredd, a man with sorcerer’s eyes and a painful past of his own. If Eskel doesn't work fast enough, they both might become the PCE's next victims. Fic || Art

Is It Cold In The Water? (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 12k) by @jennyloggins, art by @jerry-of-rivia

His horse is tied to a branch a few trees out, and that’s where Eskel heads to grab his water skein, taking a deep drink and soothe his dry throat. Patting his horse’s backside affectionately on his way past her, Eskel feigns a stern voice to say, “Zuzanna, keep watch for me.” Her tail twitches as if to swat him away. Fic || Art

Everything I Want (I Can Find in You) by @eyesofshinigami, art by @phoenixandjacob

Eskel didn't think he'd ever see Jaskier again, sure the Cat witcher was only looking for a night of fun. But then he keeps showing up, taking Eskel to bed and leaving him little presents. It takes Eskel a bit, but eventually he realizes that maybe, just maybe, Jaskier means it when he says he wants to keep him. Or Eskel doesn't think he deserves nice things and Jaskier is determined to show him otherwise. Fic || Art

One Stop Shop; Tattoo's Piercings, And Love (M, Eskel/Jaskier/Lambert, 7.4k) by @jesheckah, art by @moondrunkart

When Eskel fumbles an invitation at a party to come into his tattoo shop, Jaskier and he move towards an explosive love. How many tattoo sessions does it take for the heart to know what it wants? Fic || Art

Entanglement (and other words for a mess) (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 31k) by @violaceum-vitellina-viridis, art by @merpancake

Eskel has a hundred marks on his body, but a soulmark isn't one of them. Fic || Art

Beneath Each Other's Bones (E, Eskel/Geralt, 7.6k) by @pressedinthepages, art by @drachedraws

Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold. Fic || Art (1) (2)

#9fe2bf on the Shore (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.5k) by @buffskierights, art by @phoenixandjacob

The sea roars with a vengeance, something angering the waves even as the stars shine brightly overhead in the clear night sky. If Eskel were a poet he’d say it almost sounded like a wail of mourning, the way the whitewater crashes upon the night black sand and the gathering foam, the sea frothing furiously. But Eskel’s always hated his poetry lessons so being a poet is firmly off the table. Fic || Art

lion in the wolf's den (T, Coen/Eskel, 5k) by @patchwork-doublet, art by @justhereforeskel

eskel is nervous being around ciri, afraid things will go south like they did last time. Fic || Art

Sugar Baby Blues (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 24k) by adevinecomedy, art by @pastelrune

Jaskier’s mind slipped back to a night several months ago when he was all worked up but had nowhere to go and a mountain of school work to get through. How it was just so much easier to log onto a camming website and watch someone perform seemingly just for him. The gorgeous, confident man on the other side of the screen had been so accommodating, even though Jaskier had been shy and hadn’t typed much into the chat. Modern au where Eskel is a Cam boy and runs into a bit of a financial bind. Enter Jaskier who just might be the answer to all his woes. Fic || Art

Winter Comfort (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 10k) by @myidlehand, art by @liaonyxrayne

Jaskier comes to Kaer Morhen to spend some time with Eskel, after briefly meeting him in the fall. And while both of them seem delighted to see each other again, Eskel starts to shy away from Jaskier's comments and flirting. It doesn't take a genius to see Eskel is having body image issue. Jaskier aims to help him through it. Fic || Art

The Subtle Knife (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 26k) by @major-trouble, art by @cylin-aka-ankamo

There's an assassin haunting the Continent. No one knows their name, everyone - that is, everyone in the know - calls them The Specter. If you want a rival out of the way, a political opponent disposed of, or a strategic target taken out, contacting The Specter gets the job done. For a price, of course. There's an art to subtlety, after all, and it wouldn't do to risk the attention of law enforcement. So there's no obvious cause, no knife to the back, and the deaths aren't usually remarked upon. The Kaer Morhen Agency, however, has noticed. One of their agents has been hired to protect potential victims, people scared that they've been targeted. And they have reason to worry. When Eskel's first assignment winds up dead of no discernible cause, it starts him on a search for the elusive Specter, hoping against hope to track down the assassin before they're hired again. Setting a trap for a ghost is something Witchers are used to. Setting one for a trained killer may prove beyond them. Fic || Art

No Funny Business (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 11k) by goldendaydreams, art by @nanero11

Eskel had long given up on finding his soulmate, his soulmark nothing but scar tissue from a house fire he’d survived as a child. Knowing that most people wait for their perfect someone, their destiny, didn’t stop him from falling in love with Jaskier, the nurse he met after a hunt gone wrong. Fic || Art

Stronger Than My Storm (E, Eskel/Geralt) by @rawrkinjd, art by @nol-nol

Eskel and Geralt were friends from the very beginning. They added the benefits later. It was another way to offer comfort and companionship when the rest of the world closed in around them, and Eskel was content with it for years. Until he wakes up one day and realises it’s become something more. He touches Geralt’s silver hair, wreathed in a halo of yellow sunlight, and allows himself to feel the cracks spreading through his heart. Witchers can’t love each other. It would only lead to suffering. Eskel realises he must weather the storm inside or let Geralt go forever. Fic || Art

Full of Life (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 6.3k) by @sternenstaub28, art by @llwynbleidd

When Eskel gets hired to solve the case of people disappearing in town, she didn’t know she’d find a friend and maybe even something more. or Beauty and strength don't necessarily make your life easier, a companion and love however do. Fic || Art

choices are the hinges of destiny (T, Eskel/Geralt, 7.5k) by @lutes-and-dandelions, art by @cassandrasartworld

After rescuing a fae from the clutches of death, they repay Eskel by helping him make a choice. -oOo- A story about what would have happened if Eskel had claimed his child of surprise. Fic || Art

Eskel Vs The Continent (And His Feelings) (M, No Pairing, 47k) by @chibitabathasloves, art by @zmezagain

Eskel decides he needs to leave Kaer Morhen after the fight with the Hunt. Where will it take him? And will he be able to face his feelings he desperately tries to ignore. Fic || Art

lookin' to the sky to save me (T, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @torynickles, art by @trissmarrygoals

Geralt slides his hand from Eskel’s shoulder to his back. And then. Then he keeps moving it, outwards, away from Eskel’s torso, where there should be nothing but air, but— “What the fuck?” he chokes, because he can still feel Geralt’s hand, sensation where there should be none. He shakes his head wildly, twisting his arm to reach for his own back. His fingers connect to something, but—it’s not his body, it can’t be his body, even though he can feel himself touching it. Because he’s made up of skin and flesh, bone and muscle, and this thing has all of those, but— It’s covered in sticky, damp feathers. Fic || Art

A Fine Night at the Faire (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 12k) by Elensule, art by @liaonyxrayne

Eskel has been hurt by the world and hides for refuge in his little goat farm. He's found no reason to look for love, or much of anything else. But encouragement from his brother sends him to an unfamiliar locale; the renfaire! Maybe stepping out of his comfort zone was just what he needed. Fic || Art

#eskel big bang #eskel #witcher eskel #the witcher #the witcher eskel #the witcher 3 #tw3 #jaskel #geraskel #geskel #eskel x geralt #geralt x eskel #eskel x jaskier #jaskier x eskel #ebb works #eskel fanfic #eskel fanart #eskel/geralt/jaskier

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Blackpink Reaction To Their S/O Struggling W/ Drug Addiction

Warnings / Misc. -- ⚠️ Sensitive Topic ⚠️, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This request covers a sensitive topic that I haven't been personally exposed to, but I hope that I do it justice. I did my best to handle it with care and be as realistic as possible. Let me know what you think!

PS -- I didn't specifically name any substances or describe them in too much detail; I wanted to leave you room to picture whatever you had in mind, especially if you happen to be struggling irl.

👩 Also, I wrote this as Fem!Reader because nothing was specified. I hope that's alright, anon! Thank you for your patience :)

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Discovered it after a few weeks of dating

She's amazing at reading people, so she had sensed that you were struggling with something; she just didn't know what.

She wanted to wait for you to tell her about whatever it was, but one fateful day she witnessed something that explained it all.

It wasn't meant to happen; she wasn't meant to see you like this. But, as fate would have it, Jisoo stumbled across something she never saw coming.

Her footsteps grow louder as she walks her way through the house, peeking her head into various rooms in search of you. The two of you invited some of your mutual friends over, and they've all been curious as to where you slipped away to earlier.

"Baby, are you in here? Everyone's wonder--"

The sound of the latch clicking out of place makes your heart drop and sets you into motion. Before you have enough time to fully react, though, Jisoo opens the bathroom door to find you sitting on the ground, attempting to shove a foreign substance into a plastic baggy.

Your hands make quick work of moving it out of view and sitting up on your knees, but she picks up on what's going on. Her eyes land on the material as you shift it behind your body, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"Jisoo--" Tears are already beginning to work their way into your eyes, slightly blurring your vision. Too many people have walked out on you after witnessing this, and the thought that she might go too is overwhelming.

She keeps her tone level as she steps into the room and quietly shuts the door behind herself. "Y/N, please explain yourself."

"I-I'm sorry Jisoo, I should've told you sooner." You shakily say, bringing a hand up to swipe away the few tears that've already leaked out. It's not usually like you to get so emotional so quickly, but seeing the pained look on her face is reason enough.

"Come here," she utters, plopping down next to you and pulling you up against her body as she leans back on the side of the tub. Her fingers rub soothing circles on your back while you rest your head on her shoulder, lightly dampening the material of her shirt with your tears. "I'm not mad at you for this, but I need you to tell me about it. I want to help you, my love. I can't watch you hurt yourself like this."

"Okay. Just promise you won't go," you softly say, the syllables of your words breaking here and there from the raw emotion you feel.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N." She presses a light kiss to your temple for reassurance, and her heart breaks when she feels your hands grip at her clothes out of habit. How many times have people told you that and still left you in your time of need? She cradles you in her arms, realizing just how fragile you are in your current state, and tells you to take your time.

With a steadying breath, you begin to explain your struggles.

Road To Recovery

Constant check-ins

"Hey honey, we're at the studio now. Are you taking care of yourself for me?"

Helps you deal with the symptoms of withdrawal when they hit

Focuses on distraction and redirection as ways to help you cope

If you're at a party and feel tempted after seeing someone use, she leads you away to distract you from the urge

Helps you find safe alternatives

Celebrates the little victories

"Yes, Y/N, 4 and a half weeks clean is plenty reason to celebrate. Now mark it on the calendar and get over here so I can put this hat on you."

Playdates at your local dog café to keep your mind occupied (and bringing Dalgomie so he can make new friends, of course)

Takes you indoor skydiving. She wanted to find a way to give you an adrenaline rush while still being able to participate with you, so that was a happy medium. She battled her fear of heights to do that with you.

Not letting you lose hope if you relapse

"You're not a burden, and I'm not letting you give up on yourself. Not after all the progress you've made. I believe in you."

Accompanying you to rehab and recovery meetings, if you want her to

Bringing you your favorite snacks and candies when she picks you up

"I got you a little something," she smiles, leaning over the center console of the car to kiss your cheek. "You deserve a treat, baby."

Whenever you decide to tell everyone about your struggles and recovery journey, she's right next to you for support

Spends all the time she can with you

Early on, she would get really worried when you missed her calls or took a while to respond, but eventually she got over her fears to some degree

Still checks up on you when she's away for work

"Sorry for missing your call, Chu. Dalgom tried to kill me when I was giving him a bath and I couldn't get to the phone in time."

Overall, just a very proud girlfriend who sticks by you no matter what

After You've Recovered

Annual "recovery party" to commemorate your sobriety

Sometimes you invite the girls and your other friends, and sometimes you prefer to just spend the day at home with Jisoo

"Look at how far you've come, my love. I'm so proud of you."

♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

She would be the only one who figured it out on her own. She picked up on the signs fairly quickly and always subtly helped steer you away from any potentially tempting situations

If you two watched a movie that happened to have a triggering scene in it, she always noticed how you'd look away and subconsciously tense up a bit

"Hey, babe. This movie's kinda boring; why don't we watch that new Netflix documentary instead?"

If the two of you were invited to parties that were likely to have a bunch of alcohol and drugs, sometimes she'd try to suggest staying in or doing something else instead

You eventually caught on to her diversion attempts, and sat down with her to have a talk.

"How long have you known?" You ask, pulling your legs up towards your chest as you sit back against the headboard of your California King.

"A few weeks," she starts, running a brush through her hair until it's untangled. Her damp locks stick to her shoulders as she approaches you, some strips slightly drier than others. "Were you ever gonna tell me?" She inquires softly, facing you as she sits down beside you on the bed.

"Of course, Jen. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, I just… I was on my own with it before you. I didn't have anyone to turn to because everyone left once they found out." Your confession makes her chest ache -- it's a physical, honest pain that she feels as she imagines you battling such an unforgiving foe with no one in your corner. She places a warm hand on your thigh to comfort you, knowing just how much her touch helps when you're upset. "Hey, it's okay. There's no point in worrying about that now. I know it's hard to open up, babe, so thank you for doing this. I'm here to listen, alright?"

"Thank you, Jennie. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to know, either, because I'm staying right here."

"I love you," you whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips.

"I love you, too," she sighs against you, preparing herself for the emotional night you're about to have. For now, she takes a moment to just pull you into her arms and rest her forehead against yours, finding comfort in your steady heartbeat.

"We'll start whenever you're ready."

Road To Recovery

Makes various arrangements to ensure that the media won't know of your struggles

Keeps things on lock, especially if you decide to remain private on the matter and not tell the world

If you make a public statement about it, she still does everything she can to keep you protected from the negativity. She knows first hand how tough it can be to deal with, so she never lets you face it alone

You both help each other work through things

"You're my rock, Y/N/N."

"And you're my world, Jen."

Takes care of you during bouts of withdrawal

Sings to you to calm you down and help you relax

Takes you to theme parks and rides all the big coasters with you so you can get a similar high that you did from the drugs. She gets to be clingy with you and spend the day having fun, so she doesn't mind it, and you enjoy it just the same.

Suggests fun activities for you to do together

"We should visit that pottery place tomorrow! I've heard a lot of good things about it."

You stick close together when you're in public, especially when paparazzi are near

Your presence helps with her anxiety, and you hold her close and tell jokes to keep her attention off of it

Random surprise celebrations waiting for you when you get home

"Hey Jen, I'm home." You announce, shrugging your coat off before hanging it up on the metal rack next to the front door.

"In here," she calls from the kitchen, effectively pulling you in with that sweet voice of hers. When you reach the doorway and peek in, a dumbstruck smile slowly parts your lips as you see the set up she constructed.

"Happy 3 Weeks" a multicolored banner reads, displaying the phrase above your dining room table where Jennie sits. "Surprise, honey," she says softly, glancing down at the cake she made for you as she scoots it closer. You approach the table and examine it, practically feeling your heart grow 10 sizes from the love you hold for your girlfriend.

"Is this why you left practice early?"

"Mhm," she nods, kissing your cheek before she reaches into a small gift bag next to her chair. "I'm so proud of you," she grins, sliding a thin, glittery headband into your hair. It has two springs attached to the top that bounce in every direction possible, surely making you look like a dork.

"God, I love you."

"You'd better keep that same energy after trying the cake. I think I might've added too much baking soda…"

You shake your head and pull her in, pressing kiss after kiss to her lips until she's grinning just as hard as you.

Going on adventures with Kuma and Kai

Especially to dog parks and other national parks

Helps you fill things out for rehab and doesn't let you get too stressed about it

Helps you regain confidence in yourself if you relapse

"This isn't the end, Y/N. You're strong, I know you can beat this."

Is right next to you through it all

After You've Recovered

Go on an annual vacation to get away from everything and celebrate your sobriety. You take the opportunity to escape the media and reconnect with each other

"Where to this year, Y/N? Bora Bora, maybe?"

Intimate celebration between the two of you on vacation, and then the girls throw you a party when you come back

♡♡♡♡♡

Rosé

You were really good at hiding your secret from people -- especially those that you care about most. You're always afraid that once they find out, they'll pack up and leave.

Rosé was one of the first to actually stay

She had been fairly oblivious to your struggles since you masked that side of yourself well, but one day the two of you attended a little get-together at your old friend's house, and your dirty laundry was aired.

"Bro, come on, let's play Truth or Dare!" One of your old friends says, perking up at the fact that he remembered the game even existed. He's already a little tipsy, but so are some of the others.

"I don't know, dude," you hesitantly start, missing the way that Rosé curiously raises a brow beside you.

"Come on, we'll keep it tame." Another person adds from the couch opposite you, their voice low. You recognize her as Cho, a sort of frenemy from your high school years. Something doesn't sit right for you with the hint of mischief that shines in her eyes, but your friends' pleas eventually push the feeling away and you relent.

"Fine, but if Austin gets dared to do some dumb shit like last time I'm dropping out."

"Like what?"

"Like what?" You ask back, disbelief evident in your voice. "Are you forgetting the fact that I had to bail you out after you got arrested for streaking down the neighborhood?"

"Okay, fair point," Austin holds his hands up in surrender. "Just a few rounds."

As everyone's once boisterous laughter finally dies down into quiet chuckles, you turn to Rosé for a quick kiss. She reciprocates and holds you there for a few more seconds, loving the way your lips feel against her own. As you brush your nose against hers and garner a sweet giggle from her, Cho interrupts the moment with a phrase that makes your blood run cold.

"So, Rosé, has Y/N told you about the time she got arrested for drug possession? Word on the street is that she still can't shake her old habit..."

Rosie feels the way you tense up at the question and pull away from her, cringing at the exposure you just received. The room goes silent, enabling a pen to be heard if it were dropped.

"Hey," Austin goes to defend you, about to yell at her for bringing up such a difficult topic.

"It's fine, Austin," you say, sticking your hand out in front of him to keep him from approaching her. The last thing you want right now is a screaming match about your struggles.

Rosie finally speaks up after what feels like an eternity, turning to Cho to say, "No, but that's none of your business. And I strongly advise that you don't speak on her name like that again." She cuts her eyes at the other girl, sending an icy glare at her to show that she's serious before giving her attention to you again.

When a few tense moments pass with no one really saying anything, Jackson, the host, speaks up. "I think you need to go, Cho."

"Ah, what a shame. The fun was just starting," she mockingly pouts, stopping next to you on her way out the door. Rosé strokes the back of your hand to soothe you, tracing mindless patterns with her thumb until your shoulders relax and you look into her eyes. With Cho now gone, your friends decide to go out into the backyard and give the two of you some time to clear things up.

"So, I guess we should talk." You start, pulling your legs up onto the couch to sit criss-cross. She studies the way that you begin to nervously fidget and drop eye contact, and the sight breaks her heart.

"Your past is your past, Y/N, and I won't ever judge you for it. I wish she wouldn't have brought it up like that -- I really wish she didn't," she says, emphasizing the word to remind you of how upset she is with Cho, "But I can tell that you're still struggling. I want to help you get better, and I'll be here with you every step of the way, babe. You mean the world to me." She smiles sadly, trying not to think of how much it would hurt to lose you.

"Okay," you breathe out, accepting the honest help that she's extending to you. You've been burned and lied to in the past, but you trust Rosé to stay true to her word and assist you on the hard journey laid out before you. "Let's start from the beginning," you say, preparing yourself to retell your struggles from the moment they began all those years ago.

Road To Recovery

Takes care of you when withdrawal hits hard

Isn't afraid to take the day off if it's bad enough and she needs to

"Hey, Teddy. Tell everyone that I'll be staying home today, okay? I've already let the girls know, too."

Reassurance to the max

"You're doing amazing."

Is your shoulder to cry on when times get tough

On a weekend trip, the two of you snuck away to the beach to go cliff diving. It was a thrilling experience, and you'll always remember that day with her

Helps you find healthier alternatives to your addiction that can make the transition easier until you fully recover

"Baby, look at this." She says, repositioning her laptop so that you can see what she's looking at. The two of you are sitting on the bed, and her legs are stretched out over yours. "These herbs are safe to smoke and they can help with a lot of your troubles. These over here," she says, pointing to a section of the screen, "help with stress and anxiety. They make it easier to relax." You nod, logging the information in your brain as you run a hand over her smooth skin to keep yourself calm. It's a habit that both of you love. "Thank you, Rosie. Nobody's ever done anything like this for me." You say, keeping your head down as you remember all the people that have left you behind in your time of need.

"You'd do the same for me, and I'm happy to be here for you." She declares, holding one of your hands within both of her own. She cradles it delicately, just like she does your heart. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel my love. I'm not going anywhere, babe." She leans in, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss.

Keeps your spirits up if you relapse

"You're not a failure, Y/N/N. This is just a setback, and we're going to get through it together."

One of her friends told her about a fun art class that's supposed to help people in recovery let go of some of their resentment and negative feelings, so she brought it up and you agreed to go

It was structured in two parts:

Part 1: Everyone went out to an old car lot that had various old vehicles, electronics, and other things to smash up. Once you let loose and relieved some of your tension, you collected scraps of the things you destroyed.

Part 2: With the scraps you brought back, you were told to create any type of artwork you wanted -- whatever felt right. Collage, graffiti, scrapbook, etc. At the end of the class, you were informed of the driving message behind it: Though the negative feelings and aversions you dealt with in the past may have left you feeling broken, you never really were -- you've always had the power to piece yourself back together and continue on.

After You've Recovered

Taking a month off work every year to travel and experience new things together. Usually consists of going to another city (or even country) and exploring their art museums and other artistics outlets

The new experiences help remind you off all the reasons you want to stay sober, and they help her have new material for her songs

Lots of pictures and drawings to remember all of your adventures

Collect trinkets to hang up / display, especially around the holidays

The girls have a special celebration waiting for you when you return

♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

She could tell something was wrong when your behavior started to change over the course of a couple weeks

She suspected other things, but after finding a substance in your bag while on a vacation trip, she was blind sided by the reality of the situation

"Hey Lis, have you seen my swimsuit?" You casually ask, strolling into your hotel bedroom in search of the item. "I thought I left it--"

Your words catch harshly in your throat, nearly making you choke from how quickly you cut yourself off. She's sitting on the edge of the bed with the baggy in her hands, and tears brim in her eyes.

"Fuck," you wince, closing your eyes as you put your face in your hands. "You weren't supposed to find out like this."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asks, staring straight ahead, though her eyes don't focus on anything in particular. Knowing you hurt her is bad enough, but seeing her like this makes the pain even more evident.

"I was going to, I promise. But I've been trying to wean myself off of it," you begin to explain, slowly walking across the room until you're in front of her. You squat down and put your hands on her thighs, staying quiet until she meets your gaze. "I've tried to quit cold turkey in the past but it didn't go down well. I figured I could handle this on my own and not get you involved."

"Baby, I want to be involved. You've been different lately, and having you shut me out didn't help ease my fears. I want to be a part of this, okay? You can turn to me when you feel alone," she says through the occasional tears that roll down her cheeks, "It's my job to help you and keep you safe. So let me," she crouches down next to you as she says the last part, wrapping her arms around you when she notices your lip tremble. "I'm not gonna let this get between us," she says against your shoulder, reminding you of how strong her love for you is.

"I'm sorry I waited so long," your words are muffled against her shirt, but she can hear how the emotion in them changes your voice slightly.

"We have to start somewhere, and this is just as good a time as any. I'm right here, Y/N/N."

Road To Recovery

Sweet texts and reminders throughout the day

"Hey baby, have you eaten today? The girls and I miss you like crazy."

"Don't forget about your check-up tomorrow. I already told my manager that I'll be taking the day off, so I'm all yours 😉"

"*image attachment* Question: Do you think Lego would look cute in this or do you think Lego would look cute in this? Because he WOULD."

Stargazing trips to talk about how far you've come

Making treats for the cats together if you have a bad day

Sometimes your withdrawal leaves you with weird cravings, but she never hesitates to race to the store at any hour and snatch up your favorite treats

Learning how to cook together to keep you occupied and give you a hobby (plus she's always wanted to get better at it)

“If you fling that at me, I swear to God I'll--”

"Oops!"

"LISA!"

Day trips to random parks and open locations to have little photoshoots when she has free days

Once took you bungee jumping for the experience and adrenaline rush

Bringing you into the studio if you're having a hard time and don't want to be alone

Always listens to you and shows how much she cares

Opts out of events if she suspects that drugs will be there to tempt you (considering you're always her plus one)

You still send her to enjoy herself at the events without you sometimes, though it does take a lot to convince her to leave you at home

"Okay, okay! But we're binging that new show when I get back."

Makes you laugh often and cheers you up when you need it most

She's your sunshine

After You've Recovered

Considering that you're her muse and she's the artist that she is, she hatched a plan early on to document your journey to recovery

"One more, babe. Just like that." She instructs, holding the camera up to her eye one final time. "Perfect."

"Alright, close your eyes and turn around." She commands while returning to the coffee table that sits in the middle of your living room. Her hands make quick work of putting the finishing touches on her gift for you while you patiently sway and hum to whatever song is stuck in your head at the moment.

"Annnnnd done!" She shouts, approaching you with a wide smile tugging at her lips as she holds the book out in front of herself. "It's a photo album. I started it the day you told me you wanted to try and get better," she says, smiling softly as she slowly walks you through the beginning pages of the book. "I thought it would be nice to see how far you've come," her eyes remain glued to the pictures she took as she continues flipping, and she fails to realize that you're staring at her now.

"I'm so in love with you. I can't thank you enough, Lis. This is beautiful." You shake your head in quiet disbelief, genuinely surprised that someone would work so hard on something for you. It shouldn't be a surprise with her though, considering how much she loves you, but it still baffles you sometimes.

"This gift only shows a fraction of my love for you, but I'm happy you like it. This is nothing, baby; there's so much more where this came from. Thank you for letting me in." She captures your lips in a meaningful kiss, and finds it hard to pull away. You seem to be her drug of choice, but neither of you care to end that sweet addiction.

Annual trips to photoshoots and fashion shows

Being her favorite model (seriously, she could look at you for hours on end)

Always feeling so loved and cherished, no matter what the two of you are doing

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cluescorner · 3 years

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It’s Disbarment Day come get y’all’s comfort.

- Trucy was truly Phoenix’s light in every conceivable way. She can make him smile like nobody else and uses Mr. Hat to give double hugs to her Daddy. Whenever Phoenix can’t bring himself to leave his home, Trucy pesters him into taking her out for ramen or ice cream. She was the sole thread that kept him hanging during the first few days of his disbarment, the only thing really keeping him tethered to the world around him. She was what kept him going even during his darkest times.

- After Miles heard what happened, he nearly broke international laws trying to make his way back to Phoenix as soon as possible. And the moment he arrived, he held Phoenix and refused to let go. He made sure that Phoenix knew just how wonderful he was and how much Miles appreciated him. Phoenix figuratively and literally saved Miles’s life several times, and Miles repeats one of those incidents every time that he can tell Phoenix’s thoughts are getting the better of him. Afterwards, he becomes the foundation of his family’s financial state. As a prosecutor, he makes enough money to support his family in every way they need and more. He moves in with Phoenix and Trucy, bringing Kay and Sebastian along with him, until Phoenix has a part-time job that affords him enough money to make rent.

- Sebastian teaches Phoenix how to play piano. Though Phoenix may be woefully inadequate, Sebastian is patient and a better teacher than many would expect. While they practice, they talk about everything. Sebastian tells Phoenix about the time he nearly caused a mistrial for a dangerous criminal and tried to help his father get out of murdering someone, Phoenix regales Sebastian with tales of his courtroom antics and the Matt Engarde situation. They have heart-to-heart talks with each other about everything from relationship drama to feeling inadequate to whether it’s a ladder or a step-ladder. The bond Phoenix forms with Sebastian helps him remember that he’s not alone in feeling set up for failure or betrayed, giving him a person who genuinely understands how Phoenix feels.

- Kay keeps Phoenix moving. She gets him out of bed, takes him to ‘stakeouts’ (secretly an excuse to get free help on heists), and brings him to whatever local events interest her. Kay knows that constant activity and stimulation help her get out of depressive slumps, so she figures that the same would help her new dad(?) keep himself going. Though Phoenix isn’t quite cut out for tree-climbing and running through the mall after Kay commits felony theft, her antics certainly make sure that Phoenix is never left with nothing to do. Her joy from the most minor things (seeing a cool looking rock on the beach, learning how to use a pottery wheel, or even just walking through town) helps Phoenix see that there are little things in life that are worth living for, even if it’s only a dog on a skateboard.

- Franziska VonKarma is pissed. She is pissed because Phoenix Wright is a fool for not checking that his evidence was authentic and she is SUPER FREAKING pissed that someone would frame him for this. Franziska drops everything she is working on and flies to that foolish country to give every fool within a 100 mile radius a piece of her mind. She is the first to actually tell Phoenix that she knows for a fact that he would never submit forged evidence, that she would stake her life and her name on it. Franziska tears through the bar association and the prosecutors’ office alike. Once she has calmed down, she helps Phoenix prepare to retake the bar exam, even before he was found to be innocent of forgery. Seeing even Franziska support him, Phoenix began the fight to prove his innocence. And after the truth behind the Enigmar trial was exposed, Franziska was the first person to begin procedures to have Phoenix reinstated.

- Gumshoe may not be the smartest guy, but he knows how to help people find part time jobs. He helps Phoenix with his search for jobs and offers to write personal recommendations for him, though Phoenix rejects this offer. Gumshoe and Maggy also help Phoenix work through how it feels to get fired, with Maggie being especially helpful by teaching him how to joke about it.

- Ema knew from the very beginning that Phoenix was innocent. So when he started asking for weird devices, she never asked why. When he asked for her help developing a camera for the Mason System, she quickly made it her top priority. She’s not great at offering comfort or emotional support, but she’s an excellent problem-solver. It was her idea to have Phoenix wear the camera in his beanie and she helped develop the Mason System from a technical perspective.

- Maya and Mia had a fight over who got to talk to Phoenix first. In the end, Maya won out. She was crying before even he was and kept repeating that he would never do something like this. She had half a mind to channel the spirit of Magnifi or Zak or anyone in order to prove Phoenix’s innocence, but he convinced her not to. So instead she finally paid him back for all of the times he took her out for burgers, taking him out for them instead. She would talk about whatever they usually talked about, trying to make everything seem as normal as possible. And it worked. Maya was one of the very few constants in Phoenix’s life, so having her by his side made everything feel just a little more normal.

- Mia dropped her ‘an attorney always smiles’ act and lets Phoenix cry to her about everything. She reminded him that she was always there for him, just a channeling away, and that her belief in him was set in stone. She believed that he would get through this and come out better for it, and thus Phoenix believed it.

- The people in Phoenix’s life are what give him hope and happiness and light every single time. Every time that he felt pushed to the brink, someone would keep him from falling. But in the end, he was the one who decided to keep going. To become a lawyer again and keep facilitating justice, regardless of what had happened in the past. Everyone else helped him along his way, but Phoenix was the one who chose to keep going every single time. And he’s proud of that.

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troublesometrollhunters · 3 years

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Being Adopted by the Order

~ Growing up in the Order was interesting. You were a new Polymorph Changeling discovered later in life after an accident happened with the paperwork and placement. You slipped through the cracks and sadly you had no idea what you were until recently.

~ Joining the Order as a teen, Strickler was your designated mentor since you lived in Arcadia and went to his highschool. He was to catch you up on everything you'd missed and help with any of your issues. Nomura and Otto part of Stricklers teams were higher ups you were to report too if Stricklander was busy. You weren't supposed too work yet and they were just there to answer your questions and prepare you for life later on.

~ Changelings by nature are protective of their young and you being younger than them it took a lot of self control not to baby you. That self control was gone by your first week in the Order. It seemed you'd been adopted by the group.

~ Father or Dad Strickler, Papa/Uncle Otto, and Wine Aunt Nomura. It was strange at first but it quickly became normal and you enjoyed being spoiled by the three.

~ When you began "working" at the Order your jobs were kept small and controlled. The Changelings want to keep your information filtered and protected. It's mostly just mild paperwork and learning how all the machines work.

~ They were quiet about the darker parts of the Order doing their best to slowly ease you into it. You may be older but you aren't old enough to know the full truth yet or anything about Gunmars coming. As much as Otto wants to tell you hoping you'll become a Gunmar enthusiast like him Nomura and Strickler persuade him to keep it a secret a little longer.

~ Strickler is in charge of your indoctrination into the Order and adjusting you to living a double life. He also handles a lot of your emotional needs and is a therapist as well as a mentor. Nomura is responsible for your more physical needs. She handles training and controlling your troll side. As a changeling you must know how to fight, people out there will try and hurt you, she wants you prepared for when they can't help you. Otto handles a lot of the paperwork and contacts for the Order but he helps you with your polymorph abilities as they're rare and he's one of the most successful ploymorphs. He teaches you to shift and how much you can shift before it hurts you.

~ The museum, the school, and the Orders office become like second homes. Your parents are informed you have an internship for school, a small job at a travel agency, and volunteer work at the museum. Slowly your distanced from your human family but you dont even notice as you feel so comfortable with your changeling one.

~ Otto is the most affectionate with you. He gives you hugs whenever he sees you and praises you. He brags about you whenever he can and keeps a picture of you in his wallet. Him and Strickler are constantly fighting over the best dad slot in your life. Strickler is the second most affectionate, giving you small displays of affection to show he cares. A shoulder squeeze, saying he's proud. Small but meaningful actions. Meanwhile Nomura really only touches you when your fighting. She cares deeply about you but being a changeling she's dealt with a lot of loss. Her affection is through advice and actions. She doenst often speak her emotions but when she does it's very genuine and you are assured she loves you.

~ Strickler spends a lot of time with you in his office. He rearranged your schedule so you have a free peroid and he uses this time to tell you about your heritage. He takes artifacts off his shelves and tells you ancient stories about changelings and trolls. You learn changeling and trollish from him and he enjoys telling you about your history.

~ He's traveled the world and seen a little of everything. There's always a little more to learn but he chooses to teach what he knows instead. Strickler informs you about everything involving history and cultures and tribes. He tells you stories of his adventures and he hopes someday he'll be able to take you on one. Missions aren't always fun but he must admit traveling was always a plus.

~ Otto isn't allowed to talk about Gunmar but there are other things to discuss. You mostly bond over being polymorphs and get closer as you work together. He helps with paperwork and shows you the less dangerous side of the Order. He hopes one day you can join him and be a spy but for now your doing fine at work and he couldn't be more proud.

~ Ottos constantly buying you sweets and cakes. Feeding you and making sure you know your cared for. In Germany everyone offers food to their loved ones and your not aloud to say no, so for Otto you not eating the food he brings is the greatest offense. You learn very quickly not to fight him and just let him love you.

~ You spend long hours at the museum with Nomura or by yourself. Your either learning about your Changeling side or Changeling culture or wandering around looking at the exhibits. Nomura explains many artifacts show that changelings have existed forever simply hiding in plain sight. She enjoys giving you the tour and telling you all about the secret side of history. Often her and Strickler will bicker about it but she swears she knows better than him.

~ She's very strict about her job but every now and then she'll let you touch something that your not supposed too. She's also let you design exhibits to showcase work and has shared her love of pottery with you. She has a little studio so if you ever feel stressed or upset it's there for you. Sometimes when your angry Nomura will sit and pound clay with you helping you get your emotions out. She warns you while sculpting you are safe but there are others who would take your moments of weakness and use them against you. She doesn't elaborate but the Order is starting to show it's true colors the longer your there.

~ They each have something they like doing with you. Nomura does pottery or art projects, occasionally taking you to new art galleries or shows. Strickler enjoys reading with you or going on short trips. He shows you secret places or overlooked stores that have hidden treasures. And Otto loves taking you to restaurants or the movies. They all spoil you with affection and enjoy doing activities with you.

~ Bular becomes a problem a couple months into your shift to changeling life. With you spending time in the museum and Killahead being formed it is not a surprise when you finally meet him. He's going to eat you but you get so scared you change into your troll form and attack him. Bular has never seen you before and is so surprised you get a couple hits in like Nomura taught you.

~ Strickler and Nomura thankfully come to your defense before too much damage can be done. However, with Bular now knowing of your existence things get more compliacted. More of the Order is revealed to you and continuing to hide what they've lied about is hard.

~ The group does whatever it takes to keep you away from Bular but it seems the troll has gained a crush. Otto sees this as amazing. Imagine their baby courting and marrying the Prince of Darkness. A changeling as consort of the GumGums. You'd be a ruler. Strickler considers it but Nomura does not like the idea.

~ As Bular begins to try and court you, you begin to discover more about the Order. The Changelings begin giving you space and more freedoms allowing you too see what the Order truly is. It's up to you to decide on what to do next. But the changelings do assure you they love you and whatever you decide they'll support.

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specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

all we can do is keep breathing || chapter two

summary: Spencer’s doing better, but recovery isn’t linear, and some scars run deeper than either of you knew.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: angst (eventual happy ending)

content warnings: swearing, drug abuse & addiction, substance use disorder, ptsd, descriptions of panic attacks/ptsd episodes, recollection of past bullying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, yelling/fighting, negative feelings towards other team members, body image issues

a/n: i was so taken aback by the response to chapter one--i didn’t think anyone would even read it tbh. thank you all and thanks for being patient with my lack of an upload schedule. i'm so sorry the word count is massive again. you get tummy appreciation, though, because 1) we all love spencer’s tummy, and 2) i personally gained weight when i was in residential treatment and it can be a bit of a mindfuck lol.

a/n 2: repeated disclaimer that i'm not a doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, etc., just a direct care staff, past rtc patient and trauma recovery enthusiast. the horse therapy is pretty much entirely based on my own personal experience from nearly a decade ago, so don’t expect it to be an accurate portrayal of equine-assisted psychotherapy.

word count: 7.3k

song: you will be found from dear evan hansen

fic masterlist || masterlist

He’s been looking forward to the start of equine therapy since he got a spot in the program. But instead of being excited the morning of, Spencer ends up crying for an hour straight.

The day started off fine. It wasn’t hard to get up with the horses to look forward to, and he was able to get an extra plate at breakfast, so he could keep the pancake syrup from touching the eggs and sausage. Art therapy was a few hours later. He’d started to actually enjoy the pottery project—the recreational therapist had brought him a box of disposable gloves to use so the feeling of drying clay on his hands was no longer a problem.

Everyone’s projects were coming out of the kiln today and the next step was painting them. He’d been planning out the design and colors he wanted to use since the project started and was excited to finally start applying it.

Then he dropped his item, it broke into pieces, and he burst into tears.

He’d fled the room on instinct alone and curled up in a corner of the hallway, pressing his knees to his forehead. He was upset about the pottery, and upset that he was so affected by it breaking. He felt stupid and silly for crying over it, which only made him cry harder.

He heard distant laughter and he clapped his hands over his ears. He was being laughed at again for being a crybaby. He didn’t want to be a crybaby. He wanted to stop crying, he just couldn’t. The goalpost was cold against the bare skin of his back, and his wrists were starting to burn from the ties.

I want to go home. Just let me go home, please, I’ll do anything. Let me go, let me go--

“Spencer, it’s okay. You’re safe here. Can you repeat after me? I’m safe here.”

Safe here. Safe here.

Art therapy was over by the time he came out of it.

He has lunch at his therapist’s office instead of with the group. Lara asks what his flashback had been to.

He picks at his food. “It happened a long time ago. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. Can you tell me how it felt instead?”

Spencer isn’t really hungry, but bites into his sandwich to stall for time. She doesn’t rush him. Eventually, he asks, “Do you know what alexithymia means?”

“No words for feelings,” she replies.

He nods. “That’s all.”

Lara opens one of her desk drawers and pulls out a composition notebook, which she then hands to him.

“What’s this for?”

“I want you to start trying to notice your feelings and sensations throughout the day. Make some kind of note, even if you don’t exactly have the words to describe it.”

He sighs. “Why?”

“Just noticing what you feel can help you develop emotional regulation,” she explains. She’s always been honest with him about the why of what she wants him to try and do. “It’s going to help you stop ignoring what’s going on inside you.”

I don’t want to do that.

“I know you don’t.”

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” he blurts. “That either. I—god.” He quickly takes another bite of food before he can say more.

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect you to like it,” Lara says with a small smile. “I’m sure the thought of confronting what you’ve been suppressing and avoiding is scary. But getting better requires you to do a lot of scary things.”

Spencer wants to protest. Being strapped to a chair in a shed and dosed against your will is scary. Your mother being diagnosed with Alzheimer's is scary. Being sent to prison for a crime you didn’t commit is scary. Feeling things? That’s not scary.

Isn’t it?

He tries not to think on it too much.

Despite the unpleasant thoughts running through his mind, Spencer finds himself nodding off on the van ride to the horse ranch. His eyes unfocus, his blink rate slows… and then he jerks back awake at the sensation of his head falling forward.

A frustrated noise escapes the back of his throat. He’s sick of feeling tired all the time. He’s getting enough sleep in theory, but still finds himself drowsy at least once a day. It’s to the point that he’s regularly wearing his glasses instead of his contacts to keep his eyes from feeling quite so dry. He pushes them back up now as he tries to tune back in to his surroundings.

“… don’t get how seeing some horse is supposed to make me feel better.” That’s Aiden’s voice. He’s Spencer’s new roommate. He wasn’t happy when he found out he was getting a new one, having much preferred having the room to himself, but it’s been okay so far, mostly because they keep out of each other’s way. Aiden seems uninterested in making friends, and that suits Spencer just fine. Lara’s been encouraging him to talk to fellow patients instead of just the direct care staff, but he’s resisted it. The last time he befriended someone, they ended up--

Spencer’s fine with the two of them keeping to themselves.

Melanie, one of the staff accompanying them, is leaned over the back of the middle seat as she talks to Aiden. “Well, I couldn’t tell you why exactly, but I’ve seen this program help a lot of people in my time here,” she says. “Spencer?”

“What?”

“You’ve been reading a lot about horses, right?” At his nod, she continues, “What have you found out?”

“Equine-assisted psychotherapy lacks the rigorous scientific evidence to demonstrate if it provides benefits in mental health treatment. Horses have been used to aid in psychiatric treatment since the 1990’s, though,” he says. He intends to stop there, but can’t stop himself from continuing. “It doesn’t necessarily involve riding, but may include grooming, feeding, and ground exercises. The goal is to help the client in social, emotional, cognitive, and or behavioral ways.”

He can feel Aiden’s eyes on him and takes a breath before meeting them. He knows all too well that his infodumps aren’t always well received. He doesn’t want to be friends, but would prefer for his roommate to not view him with disdain or annoyance. But Aiden looks interested, and says as much--”that’s interesting.” He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t, and there’s silence between them for the remainder of the drive. It’s not uncomfortable, though.

When the van pulls into a parking spot and everyone starts to get out, Spencer begins to feel nervous. He’s read everything he could get his hands on, but as a relatively new therapy, there’s no standard program; it varies by facility, so he doesn’t know exactly what to expect. He’s been looking forward to this, but what if it turns out to be a bad fit for him? What if the people here don’t like him? What if the horses don’t like him?

He hangs at the back of their group of ten—six patients and two staff—as they’re led to a shaded area. They’re introduced to the program director and assistants, and are given an overview of what they’ll be doing over the next six weeks. They won’t be riding the horses, just doing groundwork (he’s not sure if he feels relieved or disappointed). Then he learns that intention of this specific program isn’t just for the horses to help the clients—the clients are to help the horses as well. The animals all have the gentle temperaments suited for therapy, but also have their own struggles. A lot of them were adopted out of poor situations.

They’re led to a circular corral next and spaced equidistantly around the edge. Spencer’s heart rate picks up as the horses are brought in—the animals will be picking their therapy partner, the director says. As they’re let off their leads a jolt of anxiety runs through his body, making him twitch slightly. This feels uncomfortably familiar to school P.E. when teams were picked. No one wanted him then. What’s gong to happen if none of the horses want him, either? He looks down at his shoes.

But just a few moments later, he hears his name, and looks up to see one of the horses approaching him. “Looks like you and Chance are our first pair,” the director is saying.

First?

Chance is almost entirely black, save for a spot of white between his eyes and above his nose. His size is a little intimidating, but his demeanor is gentle. One of the assistants comes up to Spencer and instructs him to hold out his hand so the horse can sniff it.

His hand trembles slightly as he lifts it. Warm breath hits his fingers as Chance sniffs at it. Then the horse presses his nose completely against his hand. The moistness would usually bother Spencer, but for some reason it doesn’t. Instead, a smile slowly spreads across his face. The assistant tells him he can pet Chance now. He runs his hand up and down the horse’s snout, and despite the slight coarseness of the hair, finds it soothing.

The horse shuffles closer when Spencer is given his lead to hold. A startled laugh escapes him when Chance presses his nose into his neck. He pats his head a few times, then takes a tiny step back. He’s thrilled that at least one of the horses likes him, but feels a little crowded by the large animal. To his surprise, Chance seems to understand, and takes a step back of his own.

He absently pats his horse as he watches the rest of the group pair up. He still can’t believe he was picked first.

The rest of their time with the horses is very simple. They’re taught how to lead them, and after practicing in the corral, they take the horses back to their paddocks. Spencer’s disappointed to say goodbye already, but understands the need to not overwhelm the horses or even themselves. “I’ll see you next week,” he finds himself whispering to Chance.

There’s ten minutes left in the session, and it’s spent with the director telling them more about each horses’ specific background. Chance was poorly treated by his previous owner, mostly kept locked up in a small barn and not properly cared for. He has many talents and abilities, the director says. He needs to learn that he didn’t deserve to be treated the way he was, and be told that he is brave.

Spencer rests his chin in his hand and stares out the window on the drive back to the treatment center. He knows from his reading that horses are emotionally intelligent creatures, but he’s still… well, amazed by how the horses all picked who was most similar to them out of the group instinctively.

He feels more understood by an animal he’s interacted with for twenty minutes than he has by a person for months.

Before bed that night, he chews on the stem of his pen cap, thinking over the events of his day. Slowly, in a manner that could almost be described as cautious, he picks up the empty composition book Lara gave him and opens it. His hand hovers over the blank page for a few moments, then he puts pen on paper and begins to write.

---

You made dinner reservations for his visit this Saturday. You’re getting ready for it when there’s a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Spencer calls from the living room.

You return to fixing your hair up. You’re not expecting anyone, so it’s probably just a package or a neighbor. But just a few moments later, you hear Spencer raise his voice.

“No! No, I don’t—don’t touch me, please.”

You’re only half dressed, but hurry out to the living room anyways. When you round the corner, you immediately see what the problem is: JJ has dropped by unexpectedly.

It’s not that Spencer doesn’t want to see his team. They just bring memories with them, and he had decided shortly after his birthday that he wasn’t ready to confront that yet.

He’s standing a little ways back from the door, staring at JJ while she looks back with hurt on her face. “Spence--” she starts before she sees you.

At Spencer’s side, you place a hand on his arm and he takes a step behind you. “JJ, what are you doing here?”

She struggles to keep her eyes off of him as she answers. “(Y/N), I’m sorry, I just—Will and I made cookies with the boys today and we had a lot of extra, so I just wanted to drop some off for you. I—I didn’t know Spence was here. I didn’t mean to--”

You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay, JJ. You couldn’t have known. You were just trying to do something nice.”

She nods, relieved at your understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I….” She blows out a breath, then holds out a plastic wrapped plate of cookies to you. You take it from her with a quiet thank you. Then she looks back to the man that’s essentially hiding behind you as best as he can, despite how tall he is. “Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t want me to touch you.”

There’s a tug on your clothing as he curls his fingers into the fabric on the small of your back. You tilt your head to look at him, but his gaze is on the floor. “You…” he glances up once, then looks back down. “You should ask next time,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” she replies, just as softly. “I will.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheeks to hold back a smile. Spencer often struggles to advocate for his needs, especially with his friends and colleagues, in fear of being a burden or more of a nuisance than he thinks others already perceive him as. He did it a lot with you when you first started dating. It took a lot of time and reassurance that yes, you really did want to know his wants and needs, for him to open up. Telling JJ to ask before touching him may seem small from the outside, but it’s a big deal for him.

After a rather awkward silence, JJ speaks again. “Well, um, I should get going. Just… let us know if you need anything, okay, Spence? We—the team, we’re all here for you.”

“That’s rich,” Spencer mutters behind you and you freeze. You recognize that edge to his voice. It’s usually accompanied by sharp words and remarks that he’ll regret later.

Please please please tell me JJ didn’t hear that.

“I’m sorry?”

Fuck.

“I hate to rush you out, JJ, but we have dinner reservations, so--” you try to interject but Spencer speaks over you.

“I’m just saying, why should I believe you’re here for me when you weren’t last time?”

JJ’s eyebrows come together. “I… don’t understand, I’ve always--”

“No, you haven’t!” It’s like Spencer can’t get the words out fast enough, the way he keeps interrupting before either of you can finish a sentence. This is clearly something that’s been weighing on him. You just wish he was unloading it onto his therapist rather than poor JJ, his best friend outside of you, who’s just trying to be nice. “Ten years ago I was shooting up in police station bathrooms and Emily is the only one who said a damn thing.”

His grip on your clothes tightens, forcing you to take a step back. You move the plate of cookies to one hand and reach back with the other, circling it around his wrist. “Spencer.”

Realization dawns on JJ’s face and she crosses her arms. “Spence, I couldn’t--”

“You couldn’t.” The little laugh he lets out derisive. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

You don’t know where all this is coming from or what he’s referring to, but JJ does, her expression hardening.

“You know what would have happened if the higher ups found out,” she says. “I was protecting your job. We all were.”

“You shouldn’t have!” he cries, emotions other than anger seeping into the words. “This damn job is one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me! I got anthrax poisoning, I still have issues with my knee from being shot. I nearly died from a shot in the neck, and let’s not forget, I was framed for murder by a psychopath I arrested, who then kidnapped my mother while I was in prison! Oh, and what else? Oh right, this job is the reason I’m a fucking addict in the first place!”

JJ’s clearly trying to hold back tears now, but one slips out and your heart aches for her. You close your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, then speak quietly but firmly. “Spencer, you need to leave the room.”

You can hear him breathing shakily behind you. “(Y/N)--”

“Now.” You squeeze his wrist and he finally lets go of your clothing. He takes a few steps away, stops, turns back and opens his mouth to say something, but at the look you give him, shuts it and continues on his way out.

A sniffle draws your attention back to JJ, who’s looking up at the ceiling and swiping at the tears sliding down. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I shouldn’t have come by without giving you a heads-up. I’ve just made things worse.”

“No, JJ, don’t be sorry. It--” There’s thumping noises from further back in the apartment so you step forward and shut the front door behind you. She has her arms wrapped around herself when you turn back.

“It’s not your fault,” you continue. “You were just trying to be nice. You’re a good friend to him. He’s just… everything is really raw for him right now, if that makes sense?”

She nods, wiping at her eyes again.

“It’s, uh, not an excuse, though,” you clarify. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. You didn’t do anything wrong. That was all him, so please don’t blame yourself.”

JJ is quiet for a bit, staring at the floor. Then she says, “I should get going.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” you agree quietly. Realizing you’re still holding the plate of cookies in one hand, you lift it slightly and add, “Thanks for these. And, um… I’m so sorry about that.”

She shakes her head and glances at the door. “Don’t be. Like you said, it was all him,” she murmurs.

You know she’s right, but you’re still barely able to stop yourself from apologizing again as she descends the stairs. You can’t help but feel like you should have done more, stopped him somehow, even though you don’t know how you could have. The way his behavior changed… it was like he wanted to get it all out, and when Spencer Reid wants to say something, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stop.

The apartment isn’t quiet when you walk back in. There’s the scraping and clatter of a desk drawer, followed by frantic footsteps and the thud of books falling off the shelves. You know what he’s doing, and you know he won’t find anything, so you just lock the front door and continue on to the kitchen to put the cookies away.

You lean on the counter and cover your face with your hands. It doesn’t matter if you mess up your hair or face, or anything, really, because you’re not making it to dinner anymore.

You stay like that for a while, eyes closed, trying to think of a place to even start with Spencer after all of that. When the sounds of him tearing through the apartment stop, you lift you head back up and promptly jump—he’s staring at you from the nearest doorway.

“Jesus, Spencer--”

“Where’s my stuff?” he asks, and the seriousness in his tone of voice makes your anxiety spike. You know exactly what he means by stuff.

“It’s gone. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Yeah, but it’s…” he trails off and his expression puzzles you. It almost looks like he’s confused. “It’s all gone.”

Ah. “Yeah, well, I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re very much the opposite when you’re not sober,” you reply. “Finding your hiding spots wasn’t hard.”

He drops his gaze to the floor, frowning. “I don’t like it when you move my things,” he says quietly.

“I don’t like it when you use,” you counter.

He visibly flinches, then his hand tightens on the door frame. “I’m not going to—to take it, I just want to hold it. Where’s my stuff?” he repeats.

“Holding it, right,” you sigh.

“It’s comforting,” he argues.

“Even if I believed that, it wouldn’t matter, Spencer. I threw it all out. There’s none here.”

The humming noise he makes is angry, and he rocks back and forth on his feet in an agitated manner. “You shouldn’t… I don’t….”

I don’t have the energy for this. It’s a thought you feel terrible about as soon as you have it, but it’s the truth. Lara had cautioned you before his first visit that he was going to be hypersensitive to disappointment and frustration until he learned how to cope with the feelings he’d been using the Dilaudid to block out. Unfortunately, the information, while useful, didn’t always make his emotional extremes easier to deal with.

You run a hand down your face. “Spencer…” you start. You’re not sure what to continue with, but you don’t have to—for whatever reason, that sets him off.

He tears his eyes away from the floor to glare at you. “Don’t—don’t touch my things ever again!” Then he turns and all but runs to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You suck in a breath and drop your head to the counter. The marble is cool and you thump your forehead against it gently a few times, focusing on breathing in and out slowly to calm down. When you’re ready, you walk as quietly as you can to the bedroom door and press your ear against it to hear the unmistakable sound of Spencer sobbing into his pillow.

Part of you wants to go in and comfort him, but you suspect that you’d just make it worse right now since some of his frustration is directed at you. And truth be told, you’re frustrated with him, too. So you retreat to the living room, flopping down on the couch and pulling out your phone to call the restaurant to cancel your reservations. Doing so is more upsetting than you expected; a few tears of your own slide down your face after you hang up. Before you know it, you’re calling Tara.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asks you.

“I…” You swallow down the lump in your throat. “Spencer’s… we’re having a bad day. If you’re not busy, can I talk to you about it?”

“Of course,” is her gentle reply, and you pull yourself to your feet, moving to the farthest point away from the bedroom in the apartment so Spencer won’t overhear.

“He got angry when you told him you got rid of everything?” she guesses when you reach that part.

“Yeah. He told me that he doesn’t like it when I move his things. I already knew that; that’s why everything else is where he left it. I think he was mostly just caught off guard that I knew all his hiding places.”

“If he’s having a trauma response to seeing JJ, he’s not going to be thinking clearly, either,” Tara points out. “I wasn’t there, so I could be wrong, but from what you’ve said, it sounds like she was some sort of trigger for him.”

“That’s more than a fair assessment. It’s just… confusing,” you say. “He wasn’t like this with her when he first got home from prison. He actually spent a lot of time at JJ’s house before his relapse. He’d go over and hold Michael when he couldn’t sleep. Why is seeing his best friend suddenly such a bad thing?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t have to make sense to us. It only has to make sense to the traumatized part of the brain,” she explains. “He may not even know why himself.”

“Hmm.” You ponder it for a moment. “I think I’d find that interesting if I wasn’t living it.”

Tara laughs out loud at that. “Yeah, I’ve found that to be rather commonplace sentiment in the field of psychology.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling calmer. “Thanks for listening,” you say. “I feel better now.”

“Anytime, (Y/N).”

You exchange goodbyes, making plans to catch up properly over lunch next week. You hang up, then tiptoe back to the bedroom door. It’s quiet now; Spencer seems to have stopped crying. You knock softly. “Honey? Can I come in?”

When he doesn’t respond, you try the door handle. It’s unlocked, which is a good sign—he’s upset, but not upset enough to completely shut you out. You open the door just enough to look in.

Spencer’s on the bed as expected, huddled under his weighted blanket. His back is to the door and you see his shoulders shuddering in the little breaths that follow him crying. In your experience, he usually seeks out comfort before this stage, often having the breakdown itself in your arms or stumbling into them halfway through. This is a bit of uncharted territory. You know that after outbursts of negative emotions, he tends to need reassurance and touch from someone to help him decompress and feel better. You just don’t know if that’s going to hold true for this kind of reaction. A trauma response, Tara called it. You hope it will, because you don’t know what else to do.

“I’m going to come in now,” you tell him before taking a step inside. You leave the door open behind you so he won’t feel trapped, then slowly approach him, looking out for signs that he doesn’t want you near—tensing muscles, slight rocking, shaking his head—but he stays still.

Once you sit down on the edge of the bed you can see his face. His eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red and raw from wiping away tears. A few are still slipping out, sliding sideways down his face and dropping onto the wet patch on his pillowcase as he stares blankly at the wall across the room.

Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his arm as lightly as you can. He takes in a deep breath, but does nothing to suggest that he wants you to remove it. After a few moments to ensure that he’s okay with touch, you start running your hand up and down his back. He whimpers a little in response, closing his eyes and titling back into your touch.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

You don’t get a straightforward answer. He chews on his bottom lip for a bit before speaking in a scratchy voice. “Can you…?” he mumbles, lifting his head up slightly from the pillow, then dropping it back down. You don’t know what he’s asking for until you see some of his fingers poking out from under the blanket and the stroking motion they’re making.

You maneuver across the mattress to sit against the headboard, jostling him as little as you can, and he shifts to place his head in your lap. When you start carding your fingers through his hair, his eyes flutter closed and he lets out a little sigh.

“What’s going on?” you ask once the tension has faded and his body has settled fully into the mattress. He just shrugs and you press your lips together to hold back a sigh. You’re familiar with him going nonverbal and you know that he can’t help it, but it’s discouraging. One of the main things he’s been working on is being more open about his emotions. It’s been a welcome change to not have to pry things out of him. But he seems to have gone right back to old habits tonight and it’s… well, it’s disappointing.

The silence carries on for a long time as you continue to run your hands through his hair. He’s so still and relaxed that you think he may have fallen asleep until he takes in a deep, shuddering breath and clears his throat. “I… I want to go back,” he whispers.

“Back whe--” you start, then your heart drops as you realize what he means. “Oh.”

Your hands fall to your lap as he sits up and clambers out of bed, muttering, “gonna get changed.” He shuts the bathroom door behind him—for whatever reason, he’s not always comfortable with you seeing him changing or in the shower anymore—and you sit still for a few moments, processing what he just said. After over a month of listening to him express his desire to come home—begging you, even, in the beginning—you were unprepared to hear the opposite.

You shake your head slightly to try and clear it, then follow his lead, leaving the bed and changing out of your fancy clothes, trying not to think about how much you had been looking forward to wearing them to the restaurant.

Spencer remains quiet for the drive back to his treatment center, staring out the passenger side window, legs pulled into his chest. He mumbles a quick “bye” to you when you check him back in—no hug or kiss on the cheek like you’ve grown accustomed to. Instead he turns right back to the nurse and staff member running the process and asks, “Is Matt working tonight? I need to talk to him.”

At least he wants to talk to someone, you tell yourself as you leave, trying to soothe the sting caused by the fact that the someone isn’t you.

---

The next time you see him is six days later, on Friday evening. You’ve only talked once since Saturday, over the phone on Wednesday night, and it wasn’t a long call. He was upset about the horse therapy appointment being canceled that afternoon because of the weather—it had rained hard all day—and didn’t say much else. He ended the call before the ten minute mark, saying that he was tired and wanted to go lie down.

He also didn’t request a visit for the weekend—he either didn’t think his treatment team would approve it or he just didn’t want one. So you’re visiting him at the center today. You’ve brought dinner with you—you cooked one of his favorites yourself—but before you eat, you’re having an appointment with him and his therapist.

Spencer glances up only briefly when you enter the office, quickly looking back down. One of his knees is bouncing.

You sit down on the other side of the couch, looking between him and Lara in the chair across from you. “So, um, what’s going on?” you ask.

Spencer looks to Lara and she gives him an encouraging nod. He takes in a deep breath before speaking. “I… I wanted to talk to you about what ha—happened last week,” he says quietly, keeping his gaze on his lap.

You don’t know why exactly he wants to do it here, with his therapist, but wanting to talk about it at all is a good sign.. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“Right, um. Seeing… seeing JJ, it--” he stops abruptly, and his hands tremble slightly as he runs them down his thighs. “Sorry, doing… doing this is making me really anxious.”

“Take your time,” Lara says and you nod in agreement.

“Okay.” He runs his hands through his hair a few times before continuing. “Se—seeing her brought up emotions and, and memories I wasn’t ready to, um, confront. It… it really tri—triggered me.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” you say quietly.

Spencer grimaces at the words. He lifts his hand, puts it back down, then lifts it again and rubs at one of his eyes. “I…” he starts, then fixes his gaze on the floor and goes silent.

“(Y/N).” You tear your eyes from him and look at Lara. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Spencer about Saturday? Maybe what it was like for you?”

“Oh. Um.” You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. You’ve worried about how what you say could effect him since his relapse—one of your biggest fears is saying something that would drive him to use. But it’s stressful to keep up with, and with his therapist is probably the best place to start ridding yourself of your new habit of… well, of walking on eggshells around him.

“I think it would be good for him to know,” Lara says.

“Alright.” You lace your fingers together in your lap. “I guess it was just… startling to me. JJ’s your best friend and you’ve never acted that way to her. Or anyone, really, other than your father.”

Spencer stays silent, but flinches at the mention of his dad.

“Do you have anything to say to that?” Lara prompts. He shakes his head, so she looks back to you. “How did seeing Spencer like that make you feel?”

You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly; you’re a little scared to say, not wanting to make him feel worse. “It was… distressing. Especially when he got mad at me for getting rid of his Dilaudid. I know he doesn’t like having his things touched without permission but I don’t think it was reasonable to expect that I wouldn’t have done that.”

Lara nods. “That makes sense. But our feelings aren’t always logical.”

“Yeah, I understand. I guess I just wish he would have told me what was wrong instead of being silent--”

Spencer finally speaks up then, in protest. “I couldn’t help it!”

“I—I know that,” you argue back. “I just—I’m just telling you how I felt.”

He looks away, folding his arms and sinking further into the couch.

“Spencer,” Lara says gently. “You wanted to know how (Y/N) felt, remember? And we talked about how you were probably going to hear things you wouldn’t like.”

You blink, taken aback that this was his idea. And with that comes the realization of just how long it’s been since he’s asked how you’re feeling. Thinking back, you realize that the last time you had a conversation that wasn’t only focused on his feelings and well-being was the day you found him asleep and tied to his mother. This… it’s Spencer before prison.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by him sighing and muttering, “Yeah, I remember.”

“Alright. Anything else?” Lara asks you.

There’s a lot else, you’re discovering, but you’re not sure you can unpack it all right now. “Maybe…” you say. “Maybe he could just tell me what I can do to help when he’s… triggered?”

“I don’t know,” he says dully, and when he catches the small frown on your face, insists, “I don’t.”

“Yet,” Lara adds.

He sighs again. “Yet,” he repeats.

“I know it’s frustrating,” she says. “Your solution to these kinds of feelings before was denial or using. A solution, not just a problem,” she emphasizes. “I want you both to try and think of it like that, and get comfortable with the fact that it’s going to take awhile to overcome those habits.”

A solution, not a problem. It’s… weird to think of his addiction that way, but you can try, so you give her a nod.

“Yeah, yeah,” Spencer mumbles. But behind the defensive body language, he just seems tired.

He seems to relax a little when the meeting wraps up and it’s only the two of you in one of the rooms used for visits. He remains quiet, but when you place the plate of food you dish him across the table from yours, he slides it back and sits in the chair beside you. “Sorry,” he whispers as soon as you take a bite of food.

“For what?” you ask once you’ve swallowed.

“For yelling at you on Saturday,” he says quietly. “I was upset but I shouldn’t have yelled.”

His leg is bouncing under the table; you put your hand on his knee to still it. “Apology accepted,” you say softly.

He shakes his head slightly. “You don’t have to. I was awful to you on Saturday.”

You frown at his skewed interpretation of events. “Spencer, you really weren’t. You yelled at me, yes, but other than that, you were fine.” And you’ve said much worse when you’ve been high.

“I ruined dinner. And don’t say it’s not a big deal,” he adds before you can speak. “You mentioned it every time we spoke in the week leading up to it. You were really excited about it, and I ruined it.”

Spencer’s read you like a book—that was exactly what you were going to say. “Yeah, I was really looking forward to it,” you admit. “And it sucked to have to cancel the reservations. But there will be other dinners, and it’s not like you did it on purpose.”

“But what if I did?” His voice is so quiet that you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t right next to you.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean…” he rocks slightly in his seat, which you immediately recognize as one of his self-soothing behaviors. You move your hand from his knee to his hair, lightly running your fingers through the curls covering the nape of his neck to try and help. His head tilts forward a little at your touch and after a brief silence, he continues. “I just mean that self-sabotage wouldn’t exactly be something new for me.”

“Oh.” You take your time considering it; he won’t believe you if you give in to your knee-jerk reaction to protest the negative feelings he harbors towards himself. But he grows agitated at your silence, rocking a bit harder and rubbing at his eye. You tug his hair lightly without really thinking about it in response.

“I’m just thinking,” you assure. “You deserve an honest, thought-out answer.”

After taking a deep breath, he nods. “Okay. I understand. Maybe you could just, uh… to help c--comfort…” He swallows and his voice drops back to a whisper. “Could you do that again?”

“Do what?”

“Um, pull… pull my hair. You did that a few moments ago. Please?”

You almost want to tease him—a year ago, you would have. But he’s been so timid and unsure when asking for any intimate touch other than cuddling since he got back from prison. You don’t want to discourage him from asking any more than he seems to be discouraging himself.

“Of course, baby,” you answer softly, and do just that. He closes his eyes and drops his head onto your shoulder. “As far as the self-sabotaging goes, you’re… not good at lying to me,” you muse. “And after six years with you, I feel like I’m pretty familiar with all the ways Spencer Reid self-sabotages. This never even crossed my mind until you brought it up, so I don’t see that as being what happened.”

You can’t tell if he believes you. A neutral “okay” is all you get from him, but at least he’s not outright disagreeing.

You gently pull his hair a few more times. “You should eat before it gets cold and we have to heat it up again.”

He takes the suggestion, picking his fork up, but you’ve never seen him less enthused about eating one of his favorite foods. He’s only cleared half of his plate when you’re done with all of yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

You can’t help but sigh at the habitual response, and consider your next words carefully. “Spencer, I don’t mean to be pushy, but you told me you were working on not dismissing people’s concern for you when they express it.”

“I am,” he mutters, but doesn’t say anything else, just continues to push his food around his plate aimlessly.

“Well, is something wrong with the food?” you ask. “Did I get the texture wrong, or--”

“No, no,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “It’s not the food. The food’s great. It’s… it’s me that’s the problem.”

Your eyebrows come together. “I don’t understand.”

“I…” He starts to blush. “I’m not eating it all because I think I need to lose some weight.”

“Don’t you dare,” you say immediately without thinking. He makes a startled noise at the same time you clap your hand over your mouth. You definitely don’t want him to lose weight, you just hadn’t meant for it to come out like that.

On the day he came home and agreed to treatment, you’d seen just how underweight he’d become as you helped him unbutton his shirt. The stark outline of his ribs against his skin had been scary, and you had no desire to see that again. It was a relief when he started to gain back what he’d lost in prison and afterwards. And you were happy to see him continue to put on even more than that.

You clear your throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. You were just so skinny when you got here. You look good like this.”

“I’ve never weighed this much before,” he says, and the distress in his tone makes you think that this is a fact that has been bothering him for a while. “Some of my clothes are getting too tight.”

“We can buy you new clothes.”

“But we don’t know how much longer the insurance will cover my stay here. Residential treatment is expensive. We don’t need to be spending extra money on clothes when I could just lose the weight instead and not need them.”

“Hey.” You put your hand on his cheek. “I don’t want you to worry about money. The insurance is covering it for now. If they stop, that’s a problem to deal with when we get there. Just focus on getting better.”

He looks away from you, down to his lap. “I should still lose some weight,” he says eventually.

“Have you medical staff told you that?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he admits with a sigh.

“Then you’re not allowed to worry about it,” you say firmly. “Finish your dinner.”

Spencer hesitates, but picks his fork back up. The corners of his mouth turn up just slightly when he starts eating again, telling you that despite his fretting, he’s happy not to stop himself from eating as much as he wants.

He seems to be in a much better mood at the end of the evening than he was when you arrived, though a bit more subdued and quieter than normal. He also appears to be very tired. It’s only 7:30 but he keeps yawning. He denies dozing off with his head on your shoulder while you were talking after dinner, but you’re sure he did.

During your parting hug, he nestles his face into your neck just like he always does when you’re sleeping in bed together. “Try and get some good sleep tonight,” you encourage, smoothing your hands down his back. “And Spencer?”

He pulls back to look at you and you settle your hands lightly on his waist. “I meant it, you know.” You squeeze slightly. “When I said you look good like this.”

It takes him a few moments to catch onto what you’re implying; when he does, his eyebrows shoot up and his breath catches. “Oh. O—okay. I’ll, um…” he glances down shyly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better.” You look over your shoulder as you leave, and the small smile he’s wearing prompts one of your own.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

i'd like to put it out there that i don’t hate jj and i really hope it didn’t come across like that. i hadn’t even planned that scene; it just wrote itself. i promise it’ll be resolved before the end of this fic.

another shoutout to the book The Body Keeps the Score for helping immensely with the planning and writing of this. i literally have pages of notes from it.

you can also find irl pictures of spencer’s therapy horse here.

all we can do taglist: @thatsonezesty13 , @jhillio , @elitereid

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #tw substances #one day i'll write something that's short

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rootin-tootin-cum-shootin · 3 years

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Dating Headcanons for Aomine and Kagami

In honour of my dear friend Jackie @todorokibois finishing her rewatch of Kuroko no Basket, and the accompanying Ace Brainrot she has as a result, I have made this. Is it stupid long? Yes. Did I have fun making it? Yep! Am I going to have her screaming at me tomorrow? Absolutely! Anyway! Enjoy this monster of a headcanon folks!

Aomine Daiki x gn!reader x Kagami Taiga

Wordcount: 2,540

Kinda an awkward fellow at first

He has the emotional awareness of a brick wall so he's not exactly the most in tune with his or others feelings

It would take quite a bit for him to even realize he has feelings for you

Oh man but once he does?

All those feelings he was denying or ignoring hit him hard and all at once

As if Daiki got hit by a bus (a bus made of feelings)

Once he has acknowledged that he likes you

Well, then he gets a little more awkward

Because he has no real clue what he is doing

He has asked Momoi about what he should do, considering she's the more emotionally aware one of the pair

But her suggestions largely consist of classic and almost stereotypical wooing gestures

So with her generic advice in mind

He will buy you flowers and ask you if you would meet him for coffee at "that one place you say you like"

(Like he totally doesn't remember the exact name, location and your regular order after you mentioned it a couple times)

Once you'd get there he would have your drink already ordered, with a nice snack for you there too

And as you sit down to chat and eat, he would hand you a nice bouquet of your favourite flowers

And ask you if you would like to go on a date with him sometime

If you don’t want to see a flustered Daiki, don't mention how this meetup for coffee could be a date.

He will have steam coming out of his ears, because he will internally malfunction.

Daiki will actually be genuinely suave once he figures out he doesn't need to be so performative all the time

You like him for him, not because he acts like a character from a shojo

Honestly there's nothing he enjoys more in this relationship then getting to see you smile

Listens to you so well, he is always attuned to you.

He will play every gift he gives you off as if he didn't remember you talk about how much you loved that piece jewellery because it reminded you of something a character wore in a few episodes of your favourite childhood cartoon one time 2 months ago

And he definitely didn't pick up extra jobs in order to get the cash to pay for it

No way, it was completely a coincidence.

As you may have guessed, the ever blunt and arrogant Aomine Daiki's love language is gift giving

He just wants to see you smile

And if making or buying you a little trinket just because it reminded him of you will do that then so be it

Daiki would honestly pay any amount of money or spend any amount of time if it meant he could make sure you felt loved

Dates are often spent with the two of you just chilling around the house

Netflix and take out on the couch while you wear your PJs? His favourite way to spend a Friday off

Dates where he tries to make you dinner from scratch? Yes please, he wants to impress you through your taste buds. (Which doesn't always work the way he wants)

But he does love to take you out for lunch or dinner

He will offer to pay for everything anytime you go out

Speaking of paying even if you insist on going Dutch

He is absolutely going to attempt to pay before you can even get your wallet out

It honestly becomes a game for you two to see who can pay for dinner first.

The only time he actually lets you pay on a date if say you're going to be driving some distance for a special date

Then he's chill if you pay for the snacks while he pumps gas on your way to that festival in the next city over you both wanted to attend.

He tries so hard to be a gentleman around you

You make him more humble, and he wants to be the best version of himself possible for you. Because you make him want to put in the effort to better himself.

But all that goes out the window the moment you attend one if his games

Then his usual attitude gets even worse, he becomes an actual monster when he plays on the days you watch

The pride he feels when winks at you as he scores the final basket of the games.

Its subtle but its his way of saying "See that babe? That was for you"

This man also lives for post games smooches

His team hates it (they're jealous because you two are so damn cute)

But he will always press his forehead to yours, and ask breathlessly if he can kiss you

Once you say yes, he leans in slow and with a ghost of an I love you resting on his tongue shows you just how he feels

His hands steady on your waist, holding you close as his lips press against yours and takes your breath away. The way you some how always manage to take his away every time he looks at you

When he pulls away for a breath, your noses touching, your lips still millimeters apart, he will tell you that he loves you

All in all, he may not know exactly what he's doing, but man is Aomine Daiki in deep. He wants nothing more than to be the light in your life that you've become for him. Please take care of this Ace's heart, he's trying his best for you.

Taiga is genuinely intense when he likes you

To the point where the moment he knows he likes you, you know too

Now to other people they may think its embarrassing, but he honestly doesn't care

Once Taiga's sure of his feelings for you the man could care less if other people knew

Because why should he hide away how he feels for the sake of other people

Arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walk beside him

Always offering to help you out even if it makes him go far out of his way

Actually telling you straight to your face that he's doing all these things because he has feelings for you and wants you to reciprocate them

Taiga really can be a tactless dumbass sometimes but, hey at least its cute how he's trying to woo you

He wouldn't immediately ask you out though

No he saves that for when he's sure you reciprocate those feelings

Because let's face it, if Taiga likes you, you're most likely already his friend

So when he attempts to pursue you romantically, it is literally everything you could want

He'd honestly know just how to not only fulfill the things he knows you want and even daydreamer about having in a partner while still making it genuine to who he is as a person

Now his love language is absolutely Quality time

So when you two are hanging out together, you have his undivided attention

Taiga honestly would schedule time in his training regiment's schedule when he's preparing for tournaments

Even if its just a 30 minute phone call

He sticks to it

And when you do start dating, he ensures that you go out on a date once every two weeks, minimum

Stay in dates are accepted and appreciated

In fact it was on one of those stay in dates where he asked you to be his significant other

He also texts you quite a bit

Even if its just to say "I know you're busy but make sure you remember to stay hydrated"

Or to send you a cute picture of #2

When you do go out, its usually to do some fun or spontaneous event

A pottery class? Sure why not

Rock climbing at a gym? Let's try it out, maybe you'll even catch each other falling so you can make a corny ass joke

A Tango class? Why not! It could even help with his footwork in basketball

Taiga just wants to spend time with you so he s down to try anything you want at least once

So as long as you're excited for it he'd be happy to accompany you

Even if its just to go get groceries.

He's not terribly jealous by himself, but sometimes if you're out on a date and he's feeling like he hasn't seen you enough in recent weeks

He might steal your attention back from whomever you were speaking with.

Will take you to professional level basketball games

Heck one time you two went to see the Harlem Globetrotters and it was one of the best nights of his life

The both of you were amazed by the tricks and laughing along with the jokes.

You both even got a signed ball after one of trick shots ricocheted off the rim of the basket hit him on the head.

You two have a custody agreement for that ball by the way

But hey that was the risk of sitting court side, and at least it was a great memory

By the time you two left the gym, your cheeks hurt from smiling so widely

And as you two discussed the event as you walked back to his car, the streetlights hitting your face just right

In that moment he realized that he was absolutely and intensely in love with you.

It was honestly really sweet. But did he tell you how he was feeling? N o p e

But speaking of basketball

You are invited to every single one of his games

He wouldn't be mad if you couldn't come to every one, but he hopes that you would come support him at his big tournament games

On the days you go, he plays about 1000 times better

Riko loves those days because he listens to her and the Hyuga when they propose strategies without complaint

She especially likes it because he never loses when you show up

Yes she does ask you to go to every game and practice Seirin has.

And after every game, he takes you out for dinner. Even if its just at a 24 hour fast food joint. You two share a meal after each and every game you attend

He honestly looks forward to those times more than the actual games sometimes

Taiga isn't the type for extreme PDA but you bet your ass he loves to kiss you

No matter where you are, if you’re out together, he's giving you kisses

His hands resting on your cheeks, delicately stroking your skin with his thumbs

As he tenderly presses his lips to yours, passion and adoration oozing from his kiss

Because even though he has a hard time saying how much he loves you

The emotions he can't quite find the right words to say all come through with every press of his lips against your skin

All in all, dating Taiga would be fantastic, he's caring, considerate and always confident in both you and the relationship.

Now let's start off by saying Taiga becomes so much more jealous when he realizes Daiki is also pursuing you

The pair immediately turn it into a competition

If one of them buys you lunch, the next day the other is taking you for an expensive dinner

Taiga asking you to go to one of his games again? Sorry Daiki already asked you to go to his on that day

Daiki asking if you wanted to watch a movie at his place? Nope! Taiga bought & gifted you tickets for the concert your favourite band was putting on and had asked you to go with him months ago

Lord help you if they're playing against each other

Both will show off to the point its detrimental to their teams

You thought they were intense before? HAH! The tension between them is almost crushingly heavy now

(There's a reason for that) They bet that whoever won would be the only one to take you out for a month and the other person can't even ask.

Yes that bet is dumb

Yes their coaches kicked their asses for how they're behaving

After that they realize that maybe they shouldn't fight over you like you were a prize to be won

Because they both notice how much seeing each other fight like that hurts not just their relationships with you

But how it hurts, you in general

So with heavy and begrudging hearts they set their romantic rivalry aside

And come to you hearts in their hands and ask you if you'd give them both a chance

Because they recognize that at this point, if you haven't picked one of them

You probably aren't going to choose just one of them

And they would be damned if you chose to just walk away because of how they were acting

So after some explanations of their jealousy towards the other boy on their parts

And you willing to forgive their weirdness

You are now the happy owner of not one puppy of an Ace as a boyfriend.

But two doting Ace boyfriends!

Their individual relationships with you are mostly the same as above

But there are a few throuple dates, where you all go do something together

Heck sometimes the boys will do something without you and have little boys dates

By god can they be protective of you

Creepy old man staring at you? Taiga and Daiki are already glaring at him like nobody's business

Getting hit on and are uncomfortable? Daiki is dragging the person outside to beat the shit out of them while Taiga makes sure you're okay and feeling safe

They actually make a great team in terms of the relationship. Working in tandem to make sure you're happy, healthy, safe and feeling loved

The cuddle piles you find yourself in, are exquisite

Your back smooshed against Taiga's chest and Daiki's head resting on the top of your head while he holds you tightly

Who needs a blanket anymore? Certainly not you my dear, you have two very hot Aces to keep you warm now!

And you bet your ass those two will eventually end up kissing each other

Because well their competitive spirit towards each other never truly went away

Now their competitions look more like "who can kiss our significant other more"

(BTW the score for that one is Daiki III Taiga II, because Taiga fell asleep 3 hours before you and Daiki did the last time they played that game. Taiga still hasn't forgiven his brain for that)

The boys eventually come to terms with the fact that they think the other is hot, and sometimes (ie. Most times) they want to kiss.

They will absolutely deny it if asked by anyone but you. Because they don't mind you seeing them smooch, because then you may join them in the makeout session.

They may say they're as straight as an arrow, but every arrow has some flexibility to it under the right circumstances.

All in all its actually a really healthy poly relationship, once they get their heads out of their own butts that is

#aomine daiki #aomine x reader #aomine x kagami #kagami taiga #kagami x reader #knb #knb headcanons #kuroko no basket #mutuals #attacking my mutuals

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lia-jones · 3 years

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Growing Together - Chapter Twenty-Five - Kintsugi

Kintsugi - Kintsugi (金継ぎ, "golden joinery"), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"),[1] is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique.

Wikipedia

He woke up in his bed, disoriented, wondering how he had gotten there in the first place. The last thing he remembered was being…

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The memories came all at once, flooding his senses, and he had no choice but to painfully relive every single one of them in his mind: the lawsuit, Mina’s death and funeral, his fight with Andrea, the glass hitting the wall, his panic attack. His wife’s hand, lovingly squeezing his, lighting his way back to sanity.

His son, crying, scared to lose yet another parent, called the paramedics. Victor recalled, in the middle of his mental chaos, being put on an oxygen mask and told to breathe, but the fact that he now had strangers witnessing his meltdown only made him panic more. Eventually, he was given an injection, as Andrea’s coaxing was no longer enough to have him relax. After the paramedics were sent away by her, she took him to bed, but not before helping him change his sweat-drenched clothes. He could remember how helpless he was, his body soft and useless, his eyes too heavy to be kept open. Andrea carefully laying him in bed.

“Stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked outside the bedroom window, it was already dark. He wondered if Andrea had already gone to bed, but he already knew the answer. Just like he refused to sleep before he put the glass back together, she would stay put until she saw all of his pieces back in place, sturdy and strong. No matter how hard her fingers bled.

Victor wondered how many times did a glass have to break to be deemed irreparable. He felt like the glass on his desk, ugly and useless, unable to hold anything. He wondered if she would see that in him, now that he had shown her his weak side. He wondered if she would regret spending the time trying to fix him. He heard the whiskey glass hitting the wall, and saw the frightened look on her face, all over again. He had committed an unforgivable sin. And still, she held his pieces.

Victor jumped off his bed and walked to the kitchen to get some water. Part of him wanted her to be there, he didn’t want to be alone. But at the same time, another part wished she had become wiser and just left him. He couldn’t make her happy, he was too broken. And he was afraid eventually he would break her too. Broken glasses don’t stand in the cupboard like the others. They are disposed of. That’s what he deserved.

But not what he got.

She looked spent, her dark circles standing out on her fair complexion, her curls disheveled and held in an updo with a pencil, some kind of voodoo only Andrea could accomplish. She was focused on her laptop screen, occasionally typing with one hand, the other touching her forehead, like she always did when she felt overwhelmed. She looked like a fragile crystal, the slightest vibration enough to shatter her.

“You’re awake.” She was startled by his presence. “How are you feeling?”

“You’re here.” You shouldn’t be. I’m a waste of your time.

“Of course I am.” She got up, turning to the stove, opening the pot standing there. “It’s late, Owen already had dinner and went to bed, but I have some stew for you. You should eat.”

Owen. Victor recalled again his frightened voice, panicking on the phone. He could only imagine how that small child had spent his day: anxious, scared, traumatized, worried about his father, who was too weak to keep it together. “You just have to make a scene, don’t you?” He heard his father’s voice again.

“How is he?”

“He was scared at first, but I told him you were still processing what happened.” She gave him a faint smile. “He’s really insightful for his age, I think he understood.”

“What about your trip?” You should stay away from me. Both of you will be happier away from me.

“I canceled it. You are unwell, we can go some other time.”

Victor’s stomach turned with self-loathing. Worse than any insult was the thought of someone staying by his side because he was weak, especially if he didn’t deserve the sympathy.

“You should go. I’m fine.” Victor turned to the door, wanting to get away from Andrea as fast as possible. The sight of what he had and what he had lost was simply unbearable.

“I already told you I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Victor.”

The statement felt like a heavy rock falling into a pond, agitating the waters inside him. Victor froze in place, unsure of how to answer. He loved her more than anything, but he didn’t deserve another chance. It was clearly over between them, yet he couldn’t say it. He was a coward. Tears started rolling down his face, as he stood in silence, his back turned to her, keeping his distance, but also selfishly refusing to release her.

For the second time that day, loving hands held the back of his neck, pulling him to a warm embrace, and then all hell broke loose. Tears quickly turned into hysterical sobs, as emotions broke out of him like a tsunami, spilling all over. He leaned against his wife and accepted her reassurance, even though he knew he shouldn’t get it. If only he could have her forgiveness.

“I’m sorry.” He croaked as the retching sobs made his legs wobble, making him kneel on the floor. “I’m so sorry.”

Victor wasn’t sure who he was really apologizing to, there was so much unsaid in his heart. Maybe it was to his mother, for not being the child that she wanted, the one that would make her stay. Or perhaps he was apologizing to Mina, for not honoring like she deserved, for not saying he loved her or holding her hand in her last moments. But mostly, he was apologizing to Andrea. For disappointing her. For not being the kind loving man she believed him to be all along.

All at once, Victor was an adult and a child, and both were crying in Andrea’s arms. A memory of long before came to mind. The smell of polished wood and silver, the echo of the large hallway, suitcases on the floor. His child self, holding his mother, fighting the tears. The words he wouldn’t say to her came, at last, twenty years later, for the love of his life.

“Please don’t leave me.” He sobbed. “Please.”

Her embrace tightened.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Her arms felt like a loving home, where he could be safe. Her voice was so sweet in his ears, her hands so warm in his back, her heartbeat so soothing. So, for the first time in decades, Victor decided to surrender, lay down the sword and simply stop fighting. He held onto her and cried, facing the storm of his emotions, hoping he would come out whole in the end. He just felt so tired. Surrendering seemed to be his only option.

Victor cried enough for a lifetime. All that was inside him, thirty years’ worth of pain erupted in hysterical sobs, landing as salty water on Andrea’s sweater, and he couldn’t stop it. He cried of fear for his kidnapping, of sadness for his mother’s departure, of anguish for her and Mina’s death. He cried for all those times he felt utterly lonely and unloved, for all those times he felt angry for being unable to draw people closer. For all his moments of self-loathing and despair. By the time he was done, he was exhausted. And scared. Scared that if he let her go, he would lose her forever. Afraid that if she stopped holding his broken pieces, he would fall to the ground to never get up.

So Victor simply lingered on Andrea’s embrace, wanting to enjoy a little more of her tenderness, as he knew it would be short-lived.

“We need to talk.” She announced, and Victor promptly left her arms, sitting against the kitchen island, creating the necessary distance. He prepared himself for the worse.

“I’m sorry for the glass.” He blurted out, fearing he would lose his courage if he waited for too long. “I hate that you saw this side of me.”

“What side?” She frowned.

“My ugly side.” His voice tightened. “But I need you to know I could never hurt you that way. I would never do that to you.”

“I know that!” She hurried to answer. “I do, it’s just…” She trailed off with a long sigh.

You can’t live with a violent man. Just say it.

“I pushed you into it. It was a cheap blow to mention your parents.”

Victor turned his eyes to her in surprise.

“I know you didn’t mean it, I-”

“Could you just listen?” She interrupted him.

Victor turned his eyes to the ground, obediently waiting for her to continue.

“I was hurt. And furious. I wanted you to hurt as much as I was, so I used something that you shared with me in our intimacy, knowing fully well how deep it would go, forgetting that you were acting that way because you were hurting too.”

Victor sighed, at a loss for words. How could he hold anything against her? None of them had acted in an honorable way.

“I have an ugly side too.” She muttered.

Silence filled the kitchen again, and Victor stared at Andrea’s hand, wanting to take it. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but he feared he wasn’t entitled to anymore, or that more words would just lead to more strife. He was done bruising her, he had done so much of that already.

“Victor… I really want things to be well again.”

The words caught up in his throat. He wanted it too, more than anything. But he wasn’t entitled to ask.

“Look, I know that you have been through a lot, and I can’t possibly imagine what you are feeling right now.” She jumped, kneeling in front of him, her hand taking his, while her eyes gazed at his earnestly. “And I know you are not the kind of guy that goes around talking about feelings, and I don’t need you to… That is something you should do at your own pace.”

Victor’s heartbeat quickened, wondering what she would say next. He desperately needed to make amends, he desperately needed her by his side, he desperately needed her consent in holding her and having her again. At this point, whatever she asked, he would do. He loved his light, and he needed her, like he needed air to breathe.

“But you need to know, no, you need to acknowledge I’m here. Because I am, and I always will be. I need you to know that, even if we disagree, I won’t leave your side. And if you fall, even if you don’t hold on to me, I will hold on to you, do you understand? I’ll never let go of you.”

His fingers caressed hers, so small in comparison.

“The only reason I mentioned that trip was because I felt my presence was hurting you. Victor, for the last few days, all I wanted was to be by your side, to love you and support you. I don’t even care about our fights, or what was said, we should stick together no matter what!” She squeezed his hand tighter. “This is the closest I have been to you in days! I missed you!”

Victor couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled her to his arms and kissed her, with an urgency of someone who had been starving for love for days. When he broke the kiss, he held her tightly, his face buried in the nape of her neck, wanting to have as much from her as he could.

“I missed you too.” He spoke against her skin.

“Are we ok?”

“I want us to be.”

She smiled at him, and that’s when he noticed. While he had been crying, she had been crying too.

“I’m sorry.” He hurried to apologize again, seeing the full effects of his actions on the woman he loved. “I will be better, I will never hurt you like this again. I promise.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” She caressed his bangs. “This is something we both do, you know.”

He watched her shift in place as she seemingly organized her thoughts.

“Do you remember when we came back from Switzerland?”

He remembered, yes. Her being in unbearable pain, pushing him away, while he tried to comfort her. And then it dawned on him. He had done the same.

“You and I are not that different.” She let out a sad chuckle. “We both need to be in control, to always keep our feelings in check, so we bottle them up. But we are a couple now, we are not alone anymore. We should learn to depend on each other. Do you think you can do that? Can you trust me enough for that?”

“I trust you with my life, Andy.” He was an idiot. He let all of his childhood insecurities take so much relevance these days, that he actually forgot the woman he was married to. He didn’t need her to tell him she loved him and she would always be there for him, he knew she was loyal. He knew she loved him. How could he have forgotten that?

“Wait, I have an idea.” She broke free from his arms, taking out her wedding ring.

“What are you doing?” He frowned, confused.

“Give me yours.” She instructed. “Here’s mine.”

Victor removed his wedding ring, handing it to her. She took his left hand and inserted the wedding band halfway through his ring finger.

“We keep talking about renewing our wedding vows, but you know what? We shouldn’t do it when things are easy. We should do it when things are hard.”

Victor watched her take a solemn deep breath before speaking again.

“I, Andrea, renew my commitment to you, Victor. My love for you grows with each day, and I truly believe we can overcome whatever comes our way, as long as we are together.” She lifted her eyes to him. “And I am sorry I hurt you. I love you more than I can possibly say. You are the love of my life.”

Victor smiled as he saw her gently gazing at him with affection in her eyes. And miraculously, all of his shards were put back together again. He took her hand, hoping he would be able to convey what was in his heart.

“I, Victor, renew my commitment to you, Andrea. You are the light of my life. I promise to always keep my eyes on you, and search for you when in need. I have no other place to be, but beside you.” He felt a few tears coming again. “And I am sorry. I’m sorry I ignored you.”

“For better or worse, we are in this together.” She affirmed, her eyes locked on his.

“For better or worse, we are in this together.” He promised with all his heart.

He pulled her to his lap, kissing her lips, their bodies pressed against each other in a warm hug, Victor losing himself in their embrace. Their bodies fit beautifully together. Sometimes they would hold each other so close that Victor could no longer tell where her skin began and his ended, so perfectly united that they truly felt like one.

It reminded him of Kintsugi. Golden leaf and glass shards are useless apart but when united with the patience only real love can bring, they can make beautiful art. It was indeed a fitting analogy. Andrea held his pieces together and made him whole. Patiently, she had picked each one of his shards, unfazed by the cuts they brought, and put them all together.

His wife chuckled against his chest, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world. To hear Andrea laugh once again, while being held by him, was priceless.

“What is it?” He couldn’t help but chuckle as well. Her laughter was contagious.

“The time we spent planning where we would renew our wedding vows, and we ended up doing it on our kitchen floor.” She laughed.

“Well, we did want it to be meaningful.” He smiled, playing with one of her curls. “No place is more meaningful than this. We spent most of our happy moments in this kitchen.”

“Well, if we follow that line of thought, next year we could use the bedroom.” She smiled back.

“I said happy, not lewd.” He poked her nose, making her laugh again. “Any place will do, as long as you are there.”

“I feel the same.” She sighed, motioning to get up. “Maybe we should get up from the floor, you must be hungry and your buttocks must be getting numb.”

“We will in a minute.” He pulled her against him again. “Just a little while longer.”

She leaned against his chest, arms circling his waist, and he held her back, again marveled at how flawlessly they fit. He kissed her neck, lingering on her skin, taking a bit more of her scent. He held her as tight as he could, drinking from her love, letting her gold seep through his cracks.

Author's Note: This project has been going for a year now (it started in February 2020) and it won't be over any time soon, so I would like to ask you, as much as possible, for your support, because we still have a very long way to go. So, if you enjoy the work, don't forget to comment and reblog. It gives it traction and enables other people to learn about it, and for me to get more excited about what I do.

#victor mldd #angsty victor #mlqc victor #love and producer fanfic #li zeyan #Growing Pains - Series #growingtogether #victor x oc

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felidlycanthrope · 4 years

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Bandages

zuko x reader

fluffy bliss w maybe a teeny bit of angst if you squint

The battle raged on for far longer than any of us were used to. I felt like Zuko and I moved like a finely tuned machine-bursts of fire and water flew as enemy soldiers surged from the wings.

It seemed like hours until the battle was won and we were finally able to trudge home (or at least back to the patch of ruined Western Air Temple that we set up camp at).

“I’ve never been so tired in my entire life,” Aang groaned as he sunk to the ground. He curled up in a ball as Katara gathered a few logs and sticks from the pile we’d accumulated in the corner beside my all but abandoned tent.

“At least we know that village is safe for now,” Katara sighed, “they won’t have to worry about their rations mysteriously vanishing

After a while, the silence became mind-numbingly painful. Katara was the one to break it in typical Katara fashion: “It’s been a long day, we should all catch some sleep while we can.”

“Who am I to argue with that?” I laughed half-heartedly. I looked over to see Zuko pretty much falling asleep beside me with his empty bowl still in his hands. I stood on aching muscles and turned to face him. I brushed a strand of hair from his face, jolting him awake. “Sorry- it’s just..you should get to your tent. It’s not safe to sit by the fire like this.” I held my hands in front of me in offering.

He grunted in agreement, taking my hands with what little energy he seemed to have left. I halfheartedly pulled him to his feet, lacing my fingers with his. We said our goodnights to the remaining members of the group and retreated to the corner of the temple we’d claimed as our home.

It wasn’t until Zuko lit the lantern near his tent that I noticed a small patch of blood that had seeped through his shirt. “You’re hurt, you idiot,” I hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, obviously trying (and failing) to hide the pain that the movement seemed to cause.

“I’ll go get Katara, she can heal some of the deeper ones real quick before they all-“

“No!” His voice pierced the quiet of the night. “I mean, no thank you. I don’t want her to…I don’t want to be…I’m fine, I promise.” He tried to lift the flap of his tent, but paused for a moment as he doubled over, clutching his right shoulder.

“At least let me try to bandage some of them,” I pleaded, “so they don’t get infected. I know for a fact that you haven’t washed this sleeping bag since last week.”

He paused for a moment, trying to hide the rolling of his eyes. He sighed and replied, “fine. Do whatever.”

He tried to shrug his shirt off with a wincing groan. I pulled it back the rest of the way when his arms slumped to his sides, brushing against my thigh in front of him. I discarded it to the side as I examined the damage. Scrapes and bruises littered his torso and arms, but it wasn’t until he turned around that I saw a painfully large burn covering his right shoulder blade.

“There’s a little jar in my pack,” he mumbled as he laid down on his sleeping bag. He shuffled around for a moment before decidedly shoving his face into the pillow.

I stood up from my position kneeling on the edge of his sleeping bag to oblige. A sea of clothes and trinkets covered my prize- a tiny red clay pot, wrapped carefully in sinew-y ropes and tied with an impossibly neat little bow. It even seemed as if it were polished; its surface was much more smooth than any handmade pottery I’d seen before.

“A little bit should do,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Aloe and clay from the swamplands outside the palace. Uncle made it.”

“It definitely smells like it’s effective.” The moment I opened it the smell of eucalyptus and mint burned my nose. I grabbed the bandage that was tucked beside it, and shuffled back toward him. I settled beside his body, sitting cross legged. I uncapped the vial again, scooping a small amount onto my fingers and gently brushing it onto the bloodied surface.

He groaned, clutching the pillow. “Guess I forgot how much it stings.”

It broke my heart to see him in such pain, especially knowing it was probably because he was concerned with protecting me. I also knew he would never admit it.

A silence washed over us as I continued to clean and dress his wounds. The lantern was barely flickering by the time I finished maneuvering a very fragile battlefield. “You know you don’t have to hide this kind of thing,” I scolded him. I patted his less bandaged shoulder, motioning for him to sit up. “You’re all patched up. You’re welcome, by the way.”

He fiddled with his thumb for a moment before responding. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“You’re actually welcome,” I emphasized. “We’re a family here, we take care of each other. If you’re hurt we’re not going to exploit it and add to your emotional trauma, or whatever it is that Azula does with papercuts.”

He let out a small chuckle before flicking a hand toward the lantern. The flame responded with a fervent uptick before settling at an enthusiastic pulse. Shadows danced on the walls of the tent past the darkness of the night, painting a portrait of the awkward silence that enveloped the room.

“You should get some rest,” I said, trying to break the silence, “it’ll help you heal faster, or something. I think. I’m not really sure, Katara usually makes the healing recommendations around here.”

I started to stand before a hand around my wrist stopped me in my tracks.

“Stay, please,” he said. “I don’t know what happened the other night but…it helped a bit. Or something.”

I couldn’t help but let a smile creep across my face as I settled down beside him. He lifted the covers as I shuffled closer to the warmth of his body. His head hit the pillow with a satisfying thud. He tried to hide a wince, but failed absolutely miserably. The pain crept across his face, contorting his features.

“You’ve gotta be more careful, you idiot,” I scolded him. “Just.. scoot over a little bit more. Carefully.”

He obliged with a pained chuckle. He settled back into his position, staring at the ceiling before letting his eyes drift shut.

The cold assaulted me through the thin fabric of the tent. A shiver ran through my body; I could feel Zuko’s side eye after a few blasts of wind filtered through the flap of the tent.

He turned onto his side- this time without so much as a twitch of the eye. “Come here. I don’t get cold easy. Should be warmer.”

“No, no it’s fine,” I assured him, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-“

“It’s not uncomfortable, promise,” he replied.

I wasn’t one to turn down a human fireplace- I obliged with cautious enthusiasm. I laced my fingers with his right by his side, pressing my chest flush with his side and wrapping my other arm over his waist. I maneuvered my hand over a battlefield of cuts and scrapes before settling over his other hip.

It wasn’t long before his quiet snores overwhelmed the croaking badgerfrogs and chirping cricketmoths. And it was even less time before his steady heartbeat and admittedly gloriously warm bedmate.

#zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko #firelord zuko #zuko fic #zuko fanfiction #atla #atla imagine #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender #avatar #firelord zuko imagine #firelord zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years

Text

Lilies of the Valley VIII

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

“A lily never pretends and its beauty is that it is what it is.”

Release Date: 06/12/20 @ 7 pm

previously ~ next

Trigger Warning: Some of the contents discussed in this chapter may not be suitable for all audiences. Includes verbal assault.

The backyard area had been decorated with gold and pink accessories adorning every chair, table, and they were even attached to the fences. YN didn’t recognize most of the people there, seeming to be at least twenty belonging to Shuhua’s family. That put her slightly on edge, mainly because everyone that surrounded her were either alphas and betas. She was the only omega at the party and that didn’t bode well. Jungkook had yet to release his grasp on her which eased the nerves somewhat. YN looked everywhere, but couldn’t spot her sister or her fiance. YN had never met Shuhua face to face, but she had been friendly enough. Most people seemed to be friendly enough to YN.

YN saw a brief flash of grey hair before being enveloped in a hug. “Oompf.” From the familiarity of his build and the lack of response from the alphas beside her, YN already deduced who it was. “Dad!” When he pulled away, YN got to see the crow’s feet beside his eyes ones therefrom having smiled so much in his youth. “I missed you, YN.” YN had missed him too. So much so that she embraced him again, thankful to have a brief moment with him. Once again they parted and her father’s attention shifted to the alphas on by her side.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Namjoon spoke, his hand going forward. YN was surprised to see her father shake it with little reluctance. Seokjin and Hoseok also introduced themselves, though Jungkook stayed quiet by her side. Eventually, YN’s father did turn to the young alpha and his expression was that of mild irritation.

“How do you do, son?”

“Fine, sir. Thank you for having us.”

“Yes, well. Whatever makes my daughter happy.”

YN wasn’t particularly happy, but it was not the appropriate time to voice such thoughts. Despite being a beta YN’s father always exuded a strong presence, likely because of the stereotype that betas didn’t have quick tempers. Her father’s wrath was comparable to hellfire, though she’d never witnessed it. YN hadn’t believed there could be other betas like him until she’d met her supposed mates. It was when Seokjin fingers brushed her’s that she realized, her father had said something.

“I’m sorry what?”

“Your sister is still in her room. Go up and bring her down, you know she takes forever.”

“Did you tell your family to behave?”

“Yes, babe. They’ll be good I promise.”

“I’m just worried. YN usually skips out on things like this because she’s embarrassed, but now she shows up and with four alphas nonetheless.”

“Is she like mated to all of them?”

“No, it’s a pack bond.”

“A pack bond? I didn’t know those still existed or that there were so many inside a pack.”

“Yup, they’re the Kims. It’s four alphas and three betas. My sister’s been mated to them since she was a teenager.”

“So why didn’t she bring them along then?”

“Cause they had a falling out or something. I don’t know YN has changed a lot since she presented. It’s like she’s a different person. She doesn’t talk to us anymore or me even. All she does is cash our parent’s checks to help pay her rent.”

“That isn’t right. Why haven’t you guys said something?”

“Because it’s tough being an omega. Especially when you weren’t prepared to be one, plus I’m sure the mating bond was an accident but that they’re just stringing her along. Why would they need an omega?”

“I don’t think they’d do that Soyeon. That isn’t how pack bonds work…”

YN bit her lip and wiped her tears away, she pinched the bridge of her nose to try and prevent more tears from coming out. Leaning away from her sister’s bedroom door, YN walked further down the hall towards her childhood bedroom. Needing some peace and quiet before being forced to face people who clearly didn’t want her to be there. Her hand landed on the doorknob and turned it, only for the shock to go up to her spine. The last time YN had visited her family home had been last year and she had stayed in a hotel, just like this time, because there hadn’t been enough room for all the family members. Or at least that is what her parents had told her. Now YN could see the real reason they didn’t want her there.

Her bedroom was gone. The walls painted over in a generic eggshell white with the full-size bed’s lavender bed sheets being replaced by sky blue ones. Gone was the cherry wood furniture in its placed cheap knock offs that were white. It looked like an average guest room and not the room YN had spent eighteen years of her life in. Taking a deep breath she walked in and noted how hollow it felt. Like something out of a pottery barn magazine, instead of home. She could barely hold back her sobs.

The clearing of a throat caused her to turn around with a fright. In front of her stood a much older man, alpha by his scent, YN didn’t recognize him so he must’ve been part of Shuhua’s family.

“What are you doing in my daughter’s room?” There was a roughness to his voice that made his words sound more like growls. There was also the disdain in his eyes when he looked at YN like she was inferior.

“Sorry, this was my bedroom before.” YN tried to hide the emotion in her voice but knew it was useless.

“Ah, so you’re the omega.” His mouth opened wide in mockery and YN was honestly sick of it.

“Yes, now if you’ll excuse me.” YN went to sidestep, but Shuhua’s father darted his arm out, blocking her path.

YN glared up at him but saw a morbid fascination in the man’s eyes that sent chills down her spine.

“YN?” When she peered up, Hoseok was standing in the hallway. Eyebrows furrowed and staring intensely at Shuhua’s father. Hoseok held out his hand, beckoning her, it took all her strength not to purposely knock into the alpha blocking her way. Instead, she went around his arm and walked towards Hoseok taking the latter’s hand. YN smiled reassuringly at him though she wasn’t sure it was convincing. As they went to walk away, the Shuhua’s father snickered.

“Be sure to keep that one on a leash.”

YN had to physically pull Hoseok down the stairs to prevent him from plowing her future sister-in-law’s dad’s face.

Seokjin lifted the red cup to his lips, his eyes darting curiously between YN and Hoseok. “What happened?” YN shook her head not wanting to start conflict, but Hoseok clearly didn’t care. “Some old school alpha tried to start shit.” Namjoon shifted in his seat crossing one leg over the other. “Who?”

“Noone,” YN said, looking at Hoseok disapprovingly. He simply shrugged and went back to scrolling on his phone.

Namjoon and Seokjin shared a look and YN knew this wasn’t something they’d let go of easily. So she switched tactics focusing her attention on Jungkook who looked more and more uncomfortable by the second. “Are you okay?” At this, the young alpha straightened up a forced smile on his lips. “I’m fine. It’s just like Hobi-hyung said, they’re a lot of old schools here.” What’s that supposed to mean? YN knew what that statement meant when it applied to her, but she was unsure of what that meant to the men. YN glanced around realizing that some of the party’s inhabitants were openly gawking at them.

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin spoke, staring pitifully at his drink. “It happens all the time.” Despite that YN could see how Namjoon’s jaw was locked and how his scent had spiked up, indicating his anger. Not being able to take any of it anymore, YN simply spoke knowing the men would follow whatever she wanted.

“I want to go home.”

Unfortunately, it seemed escape wasn’t possible as YN’s mother wasn’t hearing it. “Did something happen?” She asked as she minded over the barbecue. YN bounced a bit on her feet anxious to get going. “There’s been an emergency at home and we have to get going.” It was a lame excuse, but hopefully, her mother wouldn’t ask for too much information. It seems that wasn’t going to be the case. “Why can’t three of them go and one of them stay?” It might seem like a casual suggestion, but it was the tone in which YN’s mother said it. The way her eyes didn’t stray from the meat and shrug appeared too forced.

So, YN did the only thing she thought to and baited her mother. “Do you have a problem with there being four alphas here?” She knew her contempt would surely be felt, but she was exhausted of walking on eggshells.

“What? No. Of course not.”

Now that was a lie. “I thought you wanted me to become mated. That way I could stop relying on you.” YN’s words though sharp were barely above a whisper, as she started to feel there were ears as well as eyes on the conversation.

Her mother rolled her eyes, “I don’t understand why you’re so worried about money. Your father and I knew from the moment you presented-” It had been a slip of the tongue, she knew from the way her mother’s eyes widened. It didn’t make it hurt any less, if anything it stung more, far more than her sister’s words had.

“From the moment I presented? That you would have to maintain me? That I wouldn’t be able to find a mate? Why, because I’m omega?!” YN hadn’t realized how much she had raised her voice, but she didn’t care. If it truly was what everyone was thinking, she would prefer they be open and honest instead of playing her for a fool.

Instantly someone gripped her wrist and tugged her harshly, so hard that YN felt like a ragdoll being pulled. When she turned YN was greeted with the anger-written face of Shuhua’s father. “That is no way to speak to your mother young lady. You lot think you’re so special and deserving. Think you get to do whatever you want because you feel oppressed.” The man was livid, but YN could tell it wasn’t at her. No, it was at her sub-gender. In the background, YN could hear the commotion as people screamed at him to let her go, but he continued his verbal assault bringing her to tears.

“It’s no wonder your family barely speaks of you. You’re a disgrace. They spend so much time and money on you just for you to spit in their face.” Her pheromones were acting up. Projecting fear and though YN was vaguely aware of hands trying to pry her away, his grip was death-like.

“Just because you are on omega doesn’t give you the liberty to be a whore.”

YN was sure he would’ve continued his rampage if it weren’t for punch delivered straight to his face. It was so strong that it knocked the man out, his body flying to the ground in its wake knocking over a table, plates, decorations, and chairs. YN knew from the scent who it was, but she had reverted to a shell of herself. Though a part of her was aware that everything the man said came were lies - another part of her, and she hadn’t known how large it was until that moment, believed him.

YN looked up and saw her sister horrified as well as Shuhua as everyone flocked inside to escape the pheromones that could potentially trigger more violence. Finally, YN glanced and saw Hoseok pounding into Shuhua’s father’s face with what can only be described as sadistic glee. Blood was leaking from every orifice of the man’s face and if he wasn’t dead already - he would be soon.

“That’s enough Hoseok.” Seokjin grabbed the man by his collar pulling him up. YN couldn’t even stand to look at any of them, eyes wandering around. Tears streamed endlessly down her face though YN wasn’t even aware they were falling until Jungkook looked at her with concern. The sun had begun to set and she was aware of how much the landscape had changed since this morning.

Decorations lay thrashed on the floor as several tables and chairs were flipped over in the tumult. YN couldn’t see much through her bleary tears, but she could see the bloodstain. Drying on the freshly cut grass while its rusty odor invaded all of YN’s senses. She was aware of the echoes and shouts around her, but YN couldn’t react to them. Not until she felt warm arms wrapping around her figure, the woody scent alerting her to who it was. “Let’s go home, baby.” YN wasn’t sure whether she nodded or not, but she was dragged away nonetheless towards the six other men waiting for her.

I called them,” Namjoon answered her thoughts, but YN wasn’t too concerned. Despite, her wondering how the men had managed to get there so quickly. She was faintly aware of getting into a car, being placed on someone’s lap, and the sweet sounds of humming near her ears. “It’s okay, YN. Everything is okay now. You’re safe.” So it was Jimin she was sitting on. That’s why her nose didn’t burn. She remembered Soyeon’s words, her mother’s shocked expression, and the face of the disgusting man being pounded into by one of her mates. “Shhh, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe now. No one’s ever going to hurt you again.”

YN didn’t know if she believed that, but she turned towards Jimin nonetheless allowing him to cradle her, while she cried into his chest. All seven of them exchanged a look and the briefest nod of Yoongi let Namjoon know everything was as he hoped.

Hope you enjoyed!!!

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jawritter · 3 years

Text

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Chapter 7

Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Field: decorating

Word Count: 1564

Warnings: Fluff, don’t want to give to much away after that.

A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol Chapter 8 will post tomorrow! I knew chapter will post every day until Christmas! I know I’m insane lol. This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!

**SERIES MASTERLIST** **MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**

You don’t remember the last time you slept that well. For some reason, you were beyond exhausted by the time you went to bed last night, probably the alcohol, but still, you appreciated the decent night's sleep nonetheless.

Normally your sleep, much like most hunters, was plagued with nightmares. Since Dean and yourself had been sharing a bed in the Cabin you, as well as Dean, seemed to be nightmare-free. Even if he did sleep as far away from you as the bed would allow, arms folded like a corpse.

Rolling over with a sigh you take in the empty bed next to you. It was cold, Dean had been up for some time. The darker than usual sky outside told you that you were probably in for another day indoors, so why was he out of bed already?

You brush off the feeling of rejection that tried to slip its way into your subconscious. If Dean had a problem with you, then why the hell would he have gone so far and done all this for you? It didn’t make sense for someone who didn’t like someone to want to spend this much time with them, doing all the nice things Dean had done for you over the last few days.

“Calm the fuck down Y/N, and stop overthinking,” you scold yourself, kicking off the covers and making your way into the living area of the cabin in search of Dean.

As soon as you descend the little set of stairs you find him easily, sitting with his coffee cup in his hands, and eyes staring at the fire he had going in the fireplace, the tree standing in the corner, put together and fluffed in the corner of the room, waiting on you to decorate later today.

You stood there watching him for a moment, with his sleep tossed hair and sweatpant clad legs spread out comfortably as his eyes watched the hungry flames dance over the logs, consuming them and turning them into ash.

You reach for your phone in your pocket, and quickly snap a picture of him. Even with the tired, whether-worn look on his face, he was still just as breathtakingly handsome as he was when he was in his late 20’s. Maybe even more so now. That boy you met long ago had been replaced with the man you now loved today. It was done through fire, and torment, the broken pieces that were once discarded, now at the hands of the potter inlaid with gold and turned into a beautiful piece of kintsugi pottery. Unique in his own right, and heartbreakingly beautiful; made so by his own brokenness.

As you descend the last step his eyes drifted from the fireplace to you, and a warm smile spread across his face, masking the tired expression from before.

“What are you doing up so early,” he asks as you drift your way to the coffee pot, pouring yourself a generous amount before taking your place next to him on the couch.

You shrug, knowing his eyes were still watching you closely as you crossed your legs and took a sip of the dark, steaming liquid, savoring its bitter taste on your tongue. “I woke up, and you were already up, so why not get up too.”

Dean hummed in response, offering you the blanket that was on the back of the couch.

“Got her all setup,” he said, nodding in the direction of the tree. “All we got to do is decorate. It’s gonna be another snow day, so I figured we’d spend today making this place look a little more festive. I know it’s a piss poor day 7, but tomorrow we can get back into more exciting stuff once the snowstorm clears.”

Sitting your coffee down on the little table in front of the two of you, you take his hand in yours, determined to get through to him.

“Dean, not every day has to be some grand plan all day! I’m perfectly happy decorating the tree and just spending the day with you. When’s the last time we actually decorated for Christmas? Don’t feel like you have to keep me busy. You’ve done so much for me already.”

Dean’s eyes drifted across your face, searching, he was always so hard on himself, he was always trying to carry everyone else’s burdens, it was unfair that no one ever tried to carry him.

“I just want this to be the Christmas you deserve, Y/N/N.”

“Dean, you’ve already given me that, and so much more. I’ll never forget this, even if I’m lucky enough to live old and develop Altimeters, I will still remember this time here with you. It means that’s much to me.”

Dean’s eyes traveled to your lips, you didn’t realize you had been gravitating closer to him as you were sitting here talking to him, but right now you were so close to him you could feel his coffee kissed breath fanning over your skin.

Before your brain could even process what to do next, Dean deliberately leaned closer to you and tentatively captured your lips in his, giving you a sweet, slow kiss that was almost not even there, but at the same time, it was enough to set your heart soaring around the room and light your world on fire all at once. It took a second for your brain to catch up with your body, but as soon as your lips begin to move slowly along with his, he deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, throwing everything he had into it; slipping his tongue across yours as your lips parted with his own, stealing your breath away from you.

When he pulled away from you he kept his eyes close and leaned his forehead against your own, both of you breathing as if you had run a marathon, the room itself even felt charged with a current of sorts, igniting around you like the air before a southern thunderstorm.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he confessed earnestly, and looking into his green eyes, still pale in color from the morning light you thought surely you must have fallen and hit your head on a hunt, or this was all some fever-induced dream.

But it wasn’t a dream or a fever-induced hallucination. This was real, Dean was real, and this whole thing was hanging entirely on your acceptance or rejection. He’d taken a chance, and Dean was quite fragile when it came to his emotions, you knew this was the last time you would ever get this chance again if you pushed him away.

“And I’ve wanted you to do it since the day I met you.”

The wide, relieved smile that spread across Dean’s face could honestly have stopped the world from moving in its tracks if they saw it. Before his lips could reconnect with your own, his phone began to ring loudly on the coffee table, cutting through the still air around you. Sam’s name flashing in bright letters across the screen.

“You better get that,” you tell him, looking at the clear dilemma developing in his features. “It might be important.”

Reluctantly, Dean reached over, grabbing the phone and answering quickly. “Make it quick Sammy.”

You watched as Dean’s features transformed from annoyed to confusion, and your nerves started to get the best of you.

“Sure, that’s fine Sammy, what time?... Okay great...see you then.”

Dean hung up the phone, leaning over and placing another tentative kiss to your lips before lacing his fingers with yours.

“We better get started decorating,” he said, watching the relief spread across your features as he did, and his heart swelled at the idea that you still wanted to say with him, that he hadn’t just overstepped and ruined everything, he just couldn’t wait any longer.

“What did Sam want?” you ask, still a little concerned.

“He and Eileen are going to drive up here to see us tomorrow, he swears nothing’s wrong, he just wants to tell us in person. So I figure we get this place in shape, maybe fix a little family dinner and our Christmas with the family tomorrow, that way Christmas morning It can be just me and you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you reached for the box of decorations sitting at the foot of the coffee table, and handed Dean the string of lights to untangle.

“Well, looks like we better get started then.”

Dean grabbed the lights from your hands, kissing you quickly again before starting to work on the ball, a new excitement hanging in the air around the cabin. Whatever Sam had to say, good or bad, Dean seemed really excited, and his excitement was contagious.

Or was it the fact that you were certain your heart would never come down from floating around the raters from that kiss? You didn’t even care what it meant at this point, all you cared about was Dean was kissing you. That was something you never thought would happen. If he gave you nothing else for Christmas, that would be enough.

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

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Series tag list:

@440mxs-wife

#dean winchester #spnchristmasbingo #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester series #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #dean x reader #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jawritter #jensen ackles #twelve days of christmas

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

Gone

Hey y’all, here’s Chapter 6 of Playlist. Check out my masterlist HERE to read the other chapters if you haven’t already, and check out my other stories too!

CW: alcoholism

Word count: 4894

Two months had passed and T’Challa was still not taking it well. He was still internalizing the guilt he felt for putting Ashanti in harm's way, and it was all he could think about. He felt numb most days, and when he felt anything at all it was grief over losing his love. Whenever he wasn’t working he hid away in his chambers, staring at the walls and playing sad music. Today his favorite song to wallow to was “Gone” by N*Sync. He laid across his bed sipping from a bottle of whiskey with the song playing on repeat as tears ran down his face.

There's a thousand words that I could say

To make you come home

Oh, seems so long ago you walked away

Left me alone

I remember what you said to me

You were acting so strange

and maybe I was too blind to see

That you needed a change

Was it something I said

To make you turn away?

To make you walk out and leave me cold

If I could just find a way

To make it so that you were right here

But right now..

I've been sitting here

Can't get you off my mind

I've tried my best to be a man and be strong

I've drove myself insane

Wishing I could touch your face

But the truth remains..

You're gone..

Baby you're gone

Girl you're gone, baby girl, you're gone..

You're gone..

You're…

He barely spoke to his family anymore. Not even N’Jadaka could get anything out of him on their occasional walks when he would visit from Oakland. The king was a steel trap of emotions, and nobody could get in. His cousin could tell something was off, and began to worry about his health so he and Shuri decided to confront him about it. They knew it wouldn’t go well, but they never expected him to insult their intelligence.

T’Challa had been able to hide his drinking from Queen Mother, but it was hard to get anything past the other two. N’Jadaka had seen friends go down a similar route and he knew the signs, and Shuri had overheard the kitchen staff talking about sending three bottles a night to the king’s chambers. When he was scheduled to leave for a mission with the Avengers she was scared out of her mind that he would get hurt, so right before he left she and her cousin confronted him. He lied to them, for the first time ever, and straight up denied the accusations. Shuri was hurt to her core knowing her brother was in such a bad way that he would stoop so low, but N’Jadaka expected his response. When he left they saw him off as usual, but Shuri broke down in her cousin’s arms after the Talon took off. Ramonda quickly became worried for both of her children when Shuri told her of the burden she had been carrying for her brother. They both internalized too much, and Ramonda had Shuri start therapy immediately. She also had a grief therapist and an addiction counselor on standby for T'Challa's return. She would be damned if she lost her son to his depression.

The Avengers had also noticed a change in T’Challa’s behavior, so much so that even Sam of all people was concerned for him. Thor had tried to lighten the king’s mood with their usual banter, but nothing changed. Wanda tried to regale him with her physics-defying powers to no avail, and Natasha couldn’t get anything out of him in their sparring sessions. Eventually Steve and Sam took it upon themselves to do something, Steve as a friend and Sam as a former counselor.

“Catman, let me holler at you real quick,” Sam interrupted T’Challa’s brooding on the couch. He rolled his eyes, but reluctantly got up anyway. Sam led him into the kitchen, where Steve was already seated at the large table. Sam pulled out a chair and turned it around before sitting and resting his forearms on the back.

“Ok, talk. You’ve been moping around the entire time you’ve been here and you’re bringing the energy down-”

“I think what Sam is trying to say is that we’re your friends and we can tell something is wrong... come on, man, you really think I haven’t picked up on your new drinking habit?” he asked in all honesty before trying to lighten the mood a little. “You know, for a cat, you’re not that sneaky.”

T’Challa closed his eyes and sighed. He had hoped nobody else would notice before he could get it together. When Shuri and N’Jadaka confronted him before he left he lied to their faces. He had never done that before, and as soon as the words left his mouth he was filled with shame and had to leave quickly to avoid them prying any more into it. When he looked out the window of the Talon after taking off he saw his baby sister break down in tears, and his heart broke. He decided then and there that he would stop drinking, but it didn’t exactly work out that way. Here he was, a month later and still no improvement. He was doing his best to keep it under wraps, but for once his best wasn’t good enough.

“Problems at home?...Is it about Ashanti? I haven't heard you mention her in awhile.” Steve continued, trying to get something out of him.

A lump formed in the king’s throat and he nodded before averting his eyes to the table.

“She left me.”

He proceeded to tell them the whole story and watched their faces twist in disbelief.

“Wow, that’s...wow,” Steve couldn’t believe it and his heart went out to both of them for what they went through and for what T’Challa is putting himself through now. “You know, for the longest time I blamed myself for what happened to Bucky. It ate me up inside, but you gotta let that stuff go, man. If not, you’re gonna start spiraling out of control, and nobody needs that.”

“He’s right, T.”

T’Challa and Steve looked at Sam in shock, he never referred to him by his name or anything close to it. It was always “Catman” or whatever cat joke he could come up with at the moment.

“You need to talk to someone before this gets worse,” Sam said in earnest.

He thought back to his mother’s words shortly before he left Wakanda, “I’m worried about you, unyana wam. You have not been your usual bright self.”

T’Challa sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. He decided then and there that he couldn't keep doing this to himself. He was a king, he was a warrior, he was a superhero for Bast’s sake. He couldn’t afford to be a drunken shell of himself anymore, it was going to start catching up to him. He couldn’t keep blaming himself.

“You’re right.”

-------

After the incident, Ashanti moved back in with her parents so they could care for her. Kwame and Binta were over all the time, and Shuri even made a visit to bring her the new pinky she made for her. It took some getting used to how it felt on her hand, but she eventually got the hang of it.

At first, Ashanti was scared to leave her parents’ home, so they found a therapist that made house-calls. It took some time for Ashanti to trust her, but eventually she did and Jamila was able to convince her to go outside for the first time in two months. They stayed in her parents backyard for a few sessions, before Jamila gradually got her to move further and further from the home. After about 6 months, she was able to go to the bazaar on her own. She still wasn’t up for running Taj’s, so she let her new employees Zina and Jafari handle it. So far they had been doing a great job and she wasn’t too worried about getting back to it just yet. She took some time to find herself again, painting for the first time in almost a year and spinning clay at her pottery wheel whenever she felt the need. She caught up on the books she had been meaning to read, and she slowly got back into the habit of running in the mornings.

Ashanti surprisingly had no problem with moving back into the house with Binta and Kwame. She missed the twins more than she could verbalize, but really did need her time away. Eventually, things went back to normal and it was almost as if the chapter of her life that included T’Challa never happened at all.

After a few months the twins pushed her to get back out there and she started dating a River tribe guy she met on her run one morning. She had tripped over a root and ended up falling flat on her face, but luckily another runner saw her fall and came over to help. He was a hot doctor named Zane. After he checked her ankle, he looked up and was captured by her beauty. He asked her out then and there, and three months later they’re still going strong. He was sweet, and smart, and funny, and all the things she wanted in a partner...but he didn't automatically know her favorite flower, and she didn't feel electricity from his touch. His kisses didn’t ignite a flame, just a little spark. He was a great lover, but the passion wasn’t there.

In short, Ashanti was faking it, but she was too scared to break his poor little heart.

Even her parents and roommates could tell she wasn’t really feeling Zane, so they sat her down to talk some sense into her.

“Why does this look like an intervention?” Ashanti joked when she walked into her kitchen and saw her family seated around the table, all looking up at her.

“Because it is, girl. Sit down.” Kwame pulled out the chair next to him and she tentatively took a seat.

“Sithandwa,” Bisa started , “you know we love you-“

“What’s this about?” she cut her off, nervous and ready to cut to the chase.

“Zane.” Binta and Kwame stated, matter of factly.

Ashanti knew what was coming. Each one of them had pulled her aside at some point to have what was sure to be the exact same conversation.

“Honey, you’re playing with that poor man’s heart. We can all see you don’t want him, he’s the only one who can’t.” Kwame reached out and grabbed her hand in his.

Ashanti sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. She hated being called out on her bullshit, especially since it didn't happen often. She knew they were right though, she was wrong for stringing him along.

“He’s a good man, I know, but you both deserve to be with people who want you the way you want them,” Bisa added,

“I know,” Ashanti let out a sigh before hanging her head and collecting herself. “I know, I just- he’s a great guy so I just keep hoping he’ll grow on me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Everyone seemed to look at each other out of the corners of their eyes without Ashanti noticing. They knew exactly what the problem was.

“Nothing is wrong with you, intyatyambo. You are just still in love,” Chidi cupped her face with his hand and she stared at him in shock.

“No, it’s been over a year. I’m past that now,” she tried to dead the conversation before it went somewhere she really wanted to avoid.

“Are you?” Binta asked. “Because everytime you see his hologram on the news you smile a little without even realizing it.”

“And don't forget when you ducked into a random bathroom and texted me panicking because you saw Dora Milaje in the bazaar and thought he might be there.” Kwame added.

“I-I just didn’t want to see him, that’s all.”

“Mhm, then how come when I called you were you primping in the mirror?”

“I was not!”

“Sis…” he gave her the look.

Ashanti hung her head again.

“Fine,” she gave in. She knew why she wasn’t feeling Zane and why her palms still started to sweat when she saw pictures or holograms of him and why her heart almost beat out of her chest that day in the bazaar. She still dreamed of him. Her body still responded to the thought of him. Hearing his voice still sent chills down her spine. She still loved him, but she never wanted to admit it.

“Fine?” Chidi asked as he and his wife shared a hopeful glance.

“Yes, fine, you’re right. Happy?” tears came to her eyes, and as hard as she tried to keep them from falling she eventually lost the battle. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel the loss after the breakup, and it was all catching up to her right there in front of her family.

She sobbed on Bisa's shoulder and Chidi wrapped them both in an embrace while Binta rubbed circles on Ashanti’s back and Kwame held her hand. All four of them were relieved to see her finally come to terms with her emotions. They had been concerned that she seemingly blocked out that whole chapter of her life, not sure if it was due to the trauma or the heartbreak or both. Her time in therapy had focused on getting her through the trauma of what happened to her, and barely even touched her breakup. All she had done was lock her feelings in the basement and throw away the key, but they were still there and just as strong as ever.

After a few minutes Ashanti pulled herself together and looked at the people around her.

“I love you all so much,” she was able to get out through her tears and snot. Chidi grabbed some tissue and wiped her face.

“We love you too,” they all responded.

_______

After that day, Ashanti found herself thinking about T’Challa a little more than usual...ok a lot more than usual. Everything she saw reminded her of him, and it was starting to weigh on her. She still felt the same way about being with him, but she missed him more than she could say. Eventually she got the idea to give him a call. She talked herself out of and back into the idea for several weeks, and one day just said “Fuck it” and pressed his contact on her beads. She never got around to deleting it.

The trilling sound that followed filled her with dread. What if he didn’t pick up? What if she’s blocked or he changed his beads?

She didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole because the trilling stopped and her ex boyfriend appeared in the palm of her hand. They both stared at each other in silence before T’Challa spoke.

“Miss Ashanti, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She was saddened by his formality but stunned by the smoky timbre of his voice. She had missed it so much.

“H-hi, how are you?”

“I am well, how are you?”

“I’m doing ok.”

“Just ok?”

“Yeah, just ok…” Ashanti trailed off, leading to a long silence between the two.

“Ashanti, is there something you need?”

“Oh, um, no not really. I just-,” she sighed, “You crossed my mind a couple times and something told me to reach out so I did.”

A small smile appeared on the king’s face.

“Just a couple times? I’m disappointed.”

She laughed, a sound he hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing in over a year, forcing his crooked smile to grow larger.

“Ok maybe a few times,” she said, while smiling back.

“But seriously,” her voice softened, “how are you T’Challa?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when she said his name, but he wasn’t surprised she still had that effect on him since it happened every time he thought of her. He wanted to answer her honestly, he really did, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about his drinking problem and stint in rehab a few months ago. He went back and forth on the decision for a few moments before making up his mind.

“I am well now, it has been an uphill battle.”

“I know what you mean,” Ashanti replied before they both just stared at each other in silence for a moment. “Well, I um, I know you're busy, and I didn’t really want anything so I don’t want to keep y-”

“We’re going to be late, baby,” Ashanti was cut off by a gorgeous woman in a red dress entering the room behind T’Challa. She hadn’t even noticed that he was talking to anyone, barely looking up from her beads as she walked back out of the room. T’Challa cleared his throat.

“Unfortunately you caught me at a bad time, tonight-”

“That’s ok! Uh, have fun!” she panicked and ended the call.

“Why would you just hang up like that?” she asked herself out loud before flopping back onto her bed.

After that embarrassment, she doesn't know if she’ll ever be able to talk to him again. Of all the different ways she imagined that conversation going she never accounted for the fact that he could have already moved on to someone else. She knew it was selfish and hypocritical since she had been with Zane, but something about the idea of him with anyone else made her blood boil and tears come to her eyes. She let a couple fall before getting up and going on about her day.

Late that night as she laid in bed scrolling through her social media she came across an article about the king’s 30th birthday celebration on the 9th. It was open to the public, and for a moment she considered going, but then she remembered the silky, high pitched voice emanating from behind T’Challa and decided against it. She’d rather not have to feel that embarrassment in public. Ashanti shut off her beads and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her for the night.

-------

The drummers were extra hype today, playing their hearts out as all of Wakanda danced and celebrated their king’s birthday. As they partied into the early morning T’Challa spent the whole time glued to his girlfriend Tamala, the Mining tribe princess. She had a habit of being clingy and wouldn’t allow anyone else to steal a dance. Around 1 in the morning, he had finally had enough and excused himself to go to the restroom. Making his way out of the venue, he caught the eye of someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Kwame?”

“My king,” he saluted T’Challa, but he waved him off.

“Please, you know me.”

“Better safe than sorry. Happy birthday man!”

“Thank you, thank you. Are you here alone?” T’Challa’s eyes scanned the crowd.

“No, I'm here with the usual people,” Kwame said, smirking in the king’s direction.

“So Ashanti is…”

“Over in the back corner avoiding you and the aggressive supermodel on your arm,” he took a sip of his rum punch.

“I can understand that,” the king and Kwame stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation. “It was good seeing you Kwame.”

“You too!”

The two quickly parted ways and Kwame ran straight to his friends at the table they had commandeered in the back. He sat down on Omar’s lap and told Ashanti of his interaction with the king, leaving out that he told him where to find her. Ashanti noticed Omar’s hands make their way around Kwame’s waist and she wished she could feel the king’s arms around her like that one more time.

“I knew I shouldn't have come here, why did I let you two talk me into this? He has a girlfriend already.”

“Because your man knows how to throw a damn party!” Binta slurred a little, very obviously teetering between tipsy and drunk. Ashanti rolled her eyes at her ‘your man’ comment but agreed, looking around at all the happy partygoers. She sighed, wishing she could enjoy herself like they were.

On his way to the restroom T’Challa was stopped by not one, not two, but three separate elders commenting on how good he and Tamala looked together and asking about marriage plans. T’Challa knew the council was anxious for him to get married and produce heirs, but no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t see it with Tamala. She had everything he was looking for, but she was missing a special something. More like she’s not that special someone. She’s not her.

For the rest of the night, T’Challa avoided the elders and slyly kept his eye on Ashanti and her friends. He was mesmerized by her colorful curve-hugging jumpsuit and her natural hair that had grown much longer in the year they’d been apart. Her shoulders seemed to glow and her deep purple lipstick drew his eyes to her lips. His eyes travelled down her body, noticing that she had kicked off her shoes and he smiled fondly, remembering her disdain for heels. She looked up and caught him staring more than once, but he just couldn't stop. Everytime she caught him she’d quickly look away, too embarrassed to hold his gaze. His staring angered Tamala who also caught him staring more than once.

“Do you know her?” Tamala asked with an attitude, standing in his line of vision. T’Challa rolled his eyes because he sensed another argument coming. Tamala was a lot of wonderful things, but jealousy was her worst quality, hands down. He had never been one to have a wandering eye when he was with a woman, so normally her jealousy annoyed him to no end. However, this time he understood where she was coming from.

“Yes, I do. She’s an old friend.”

“A ‘friend’ huh? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Tamala, please, not here. This is a celebration, try to be happy. For me, please.”

The Mining tribe princess rolled her eyes and stormed off, shoulder checking Prince N’Jadaka on the way.

“Yo, me and your girl are gonna fight fight one of these days. Like, for real,” he said as he walked up to his cousin.

T’Challa chuckled as he sipped some more of his non-alcoholic ginger beer.

“Let's go for a walk in the gardens,” he requested and the prince obliged. N’Jadaka pulled out a pre-roll and lit the tip, passing it to his cousin. “She’s upset because Ashanti is here.”

“Oh! She is, huh? Interesting...I’m surprised she showed.”

“I’m not,” he handed the blunt back to the prince, “she called me the other day. It was a very short conversation but...I still felt something and I think she did too. She looks good, really good. She asked how I had been but I couldn't really tell her the truth... She seems like she’s gotten so much better since the last time I saw her.”

The two walked in silence for a couple minutes passing the blunt back and forth before N’Jadaka broke the silence.

“So you still love her?”

T’Challa didn’t even have to hesitate.

“Of course, I never stopped.”

---------

The next day, Ashanti and her roommates were all laying in the living room nursing hangovers while they half watched an old classic Wakandan movie. Ashanti was sick to her stomach, but she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the sappy love story she was forced to watch. After it was over, Binta pulled up the news and right as the meteorologist finished explaining the upcoming weather patterns, a huge picture of T’Challa and Tamala kissing took over the screen. Bile rose in her stomach as Binta scrambled to change the channel. Before she could, Ashanti heard the anchor say the very words she dreaded hearing, “Could there be a royal engagement on the horizon?”

Binta turned the hologram off altogether, and the three of them sat in silence for a while until Kwame couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you ok?”

“I will be, it’s just rough right now. I’m happy he found somebody though, they look happy.”

Neither twin wanted to pry so they left it at that and changed the subject to food.

“I’m hungry, but I don’t feel like cooking.” Binta said in a huff, throwing herself back into the couch..

“Mood,” Kwame and Ashanti replied.

“Ooh how about I grab some food from my parents? They’ve been wanting me to stop by,” Ashanti offered.

“Bast bless you, my child.” Binta grabbed her hand and kissed it.

Ashanti threw her shoes on and was out the door in no time flat. She needed to get out of the house and clear her head. They looked so happy…

She was on autopilot when she reached the restaurant, barely even shooting a glance towards Taj’s before immediately heading back home. Chidi and Bisa could tell there was something bothering her, but chose not to pry.

Almost a week passed by with her being forced to see the new “it” couple everywhere she turned. It was starting to get to her so she called Jamila for a session, which turned into Ashanti seeing her on the regular. After a couple more months she no longer felt weighed down by her seemingly unrequited feelings for T’Challa and was genuinely ready to move on. She even downloaded a dating app on her beads and started meeting new people. Nothing really came of it, but she enjoyed herself nonetheless. Ashanti threw herself back into work, mostly focusing on her commissions while her employees handled Taj’s. Princess Shuri had spread the word about the artist after she received her necklace and since then Ashanti’s business had been booming. Everybody from farmers to nobility was knocking down her door for a custom piece. She even made a necklace for Shani, Chieftess of the Jabari. thAll was going well in Ashanti’s life and her therapy sessions were working, so when she saw the news of the royal engagement she allowed the grief to wash over her before shaking it off and going on about her day. On the other side of Birnin Zana, King T’Challa sighed as he watched the media coverage. He knew she was out there somewhere having to see it and he pushed back against the feeling of guilt that often tried to overcome him. He had to do it, though. He had been pushing the council to allow immigration into Wakanda and they just wouldn’t budge, just like he hadn’t budged on the issue of betrothal. It wasn’t until he announced to them that he had plans to marry Tamala that the council started to see things his way. This way everybody would be happy. He would be able to open up Wakanda more to the Lost Tribe, and they would have a queen and hopefully, soon after, an heir to the throne. A week later the news leaked to the press somehow and it quickly became all anyone could talk about.

During his weekly visits to the Merchant tribe T’Challa tended to avoid the Bazaar for fear of running into Ashanti, but this time he decided to venture in. People greeted him as he walked through, perusing the merchandise, and stopping periodically to chat. This is why he loved coming there, everyone was always so cheerful and bright. He had crouched down to talk to a nine year old girl who wanted his attention, and on his way back up he saw a woman in a purple headwrap walking out of a storefront, going in the opposite direction. He would’ve recognized that walk anywhere. T’Challa wanted to call out to her, but didn’t want to embarrass her or start a scandal. He watched her turn the corner and disappear from his sight. The king said goodbye to the little girl and her baba before heading off in the same direction she went, almost leaving his Doras in the dust. When he rounded the corner he stopped abruptly at the absolute vision staring right back at him. She was in shock, obviously not expecting to run into her newly engaged ex.

“T’Challa, h-hi.”

“Hi,” he said back, wanting to kick himself for not being more articulate.

“Um, congratulations on your engagement. I saw the news, well, everywhere.”

“Oh, uh, Thank you.”

“What brings you down here?”

“Just my usual weekly rounds.”

“Oh yeah, I remember those.” She smiled at the memory and his heart thumped a little louder in his chest at the sight. “You always looked forward to Mondays just for that…”

“I still do.”

They both awkwardly stood there, neither one of them saying what’s on their mind.

“Well, I uh, I have to go open up the store. I’ll see you around T’Challa.”

There was so much that he wanted to say, but he just couldn’t get it out. Being in her presence again after so long had him freezing up, something he never did.

She saluted him and winked before turning around and heading towards Taj’s. He couldn’t help but watch her hips twitch as she walked away and something told him she knew he was watching. She did.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@maddeningmayhem, @theblulife

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa x oc #t'challa #playlist #black!oc

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