#protective!reader

Before he could say anything, Smurf came into the backyard and saw Andrew in your arms, clearly distressed about something. The two of you locked eyes and you watched her facial expression and body language shift from Smurf "the boss lady" into Smurf "the doting mother". Her face smoothed out, appearing softer as she set her grocery bag down to approach you. There was a chance she was genuinely concerned about Andrew, but more likely she wanted to wedge herself between you and her son, like she always did.

Thankfully you knew Andrew loved you and put you first.

But he'd had a pretty horrible day and you didn't fault him for answering his mother when she squeezed herself onto the chair on his other side and asked what was wrong. Andrew sat up and explained the situation and Smurf asked why he didn't call her. Instead of answering he took a few deep breaths and looked up at the sky as he tried to get a handle on the emotions bubbling up his throat.

"Okay, okay." Smurf said softly, dropping her point and pulling him into her arms. She pet his head in a gesture of comfort but said with a voice of steel -

"We'll get her back." Smurf looked up and noticed Billy watching the exchange. She stared him down for a moment before turning her attention to you. She stared at you unblinking for a long moment before pressing a kiss to Andrews hair.

This was a familiar song and dance between the two of you, with Andrew in the middle of your tug of war. Smurf was a narcissist who couldn't cope with the idea of being secondary to another woman in Andrews life. You were thankfully very secure in your relationship with Andrew, and while you never let your guard down, Smurf didn't scare you.

She pulled back to address Andrew directly.

"Let me go make some calls, okay baby?" She said, deciding that she'd be the hero to swoop in and fix the situation. You tried not to roll your eyes. Smurf could definitely find Lena with her connections, but it was unlikely she'd be able to get Lena back in Andrews custody. However knowing Lena was safe would be a win so you didn't say anything.

Smurf left you both outside as she went in the house to make the calls. Billy finally stalked out of the garage and slowly made his way past you both to the pool chairs. Both you and Andrew watched Billy as carefully as he was watching you. You could see it in Billys face that he was assessing the situation to see if he could get away with a few rude comments.

You didn't know Billy all that well, but from what you'd seen of him, you hated him. He was an addict who abandoned Deran when he was little, and was the kind of person who didn't care about the wreckage he caused in other peoples lives as long as he got away unscathed. He was a leech who took and took and took from other people and then left them for dead. During your relationship with Andrew, you'd picked up bits and pieces of his horrible treatment of Andrew as a child, including an incident when Billy locked Andrew in a closet so he could go get high and then forgot about Andrew for three days.

When Andrew had confronted Billy about his behaviour years later, Billy insisted that it never happened and if it did, Andrew was exaggerating and being a pussy about it. Billy refused to acknowledge or take responsibility for his actions.

That personal anecdote had made your blood boil and you'd wanted to rip Billys head off. But Andrew told you it was fine (you knew it wasn't) and since Billy was Derans father, you held yourself back. As Billy continued to eye you both now, you could tell he was about to piss you off.

His stare was already bothering Andrew, you could feel it in the way his shoulders tensed under your hand and how his lip twitched, like it wanted to pull into his classic sneer. Andrew didn't like looking vulnerable or weak to people he didn't like or trust and Billy was at the top of that list.

"You know, uh," Billy started and you took a deep breath as his voice crawled up your spine and left anger in its wake. He glanced at the kitchen door where Smurf had entered the house.

"If you stop sucking on her tit, your balls might drop." His voice was a mixture of cocky and condescending and you clenched your teeth so hard you were sure they cracked. The emasculating comment pissed you off but you weren't going to fly off the handle, not today. Andrew was the one who was spinning out over losing Lena, he needed you to be his steady rock in the storm, no matter how much you wanted to cave Billys face in.

Billy nonchalantly turned away from you both, like the comment didn't matter, and you watched Andrews head turn in Billys direction like a shark zeroing in on its prey. You put a comforting hand on his knee, hoping to quell the anger that was rising inside him. You wouldn't be surprised if Andrew took his anger about the DCFS situation out on Billy, and you definitely wouldn't blame him if he did.

Billy glanced over his shoulder and saw how your hand on Andrew was your silent way of holding him back and Billy scoffed.

"She got you whipped too huh? Could you be more pathetic?"

You saw red.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were colliding with Billy, using your momentum to tackle him to the ground. One little comment and all rational thoughts left you head. How dare this waste of space masquerading as a person call the man you loved pathetic. You didn't want to hold it together or take the high road.

You want to hit this son of a bitch until he bled.

And that's exactly what you did. Completely caught off guard by your attack, Billy took a few long moments to comprehend what was happening, which gave you time to pull your brass knuckles from your jacket pocket and start to wail on him. You straddled his chest and hit his head over and over again, not stopping even when you heard a sickening crunch and saw blood. You didn't even feel the bite of metal knuckles digging into your skin. His blood flew in arches through the air as you pulled your fist back and slammed it into his jaw with a scream of pure rage.

Behind you Andrew was floored. His previous anger completely evaporated and was replaced with shock and awe as he watched you punch Billy again and again in defense of Andrew. He knew the comments bothered you both but he hadn't known it made you this mad.

Andrew had seen you defend him before, usually verbally with people twice your size which resulted in Andrew picking you up and hauling you away from the situation. But he'd never seen you defend him with your fists. He wasn't sure how he should feel about it since he had his own complicated relationship with violence but he couldn't help the feeling of appreciation that bloomed in his chest at your display of love and loyalty for him. If he really had to think about it, he loved seeing you stand up for him like this so viscously.

In his family, Andrew was typically the one who would throw punches and start fights in defense of his family or he’d be the person they’d send to do the dirty work, like a guard dog. No one had ever stood up for him the way you did. Not even his brothers. They typically just laughed at the shit Billy said about Andrew.

Billy eventually came to his senses and managed to swing his arm up at the right moment, punching you in the jaw. You fell off of him from the force of it, the sharp tang of blood filling your mouth as your body hit the stone patio. Before you could get up, Andrew was throwing himself on top of Billy, taking your place and hitting him with far more force.

The two men tousled until they were right by the pools edge and Andrew forced Billy's head underwater, his large hand pressing on Billys jaw to hold him under. Killing Billy wasn’t a conscious thought Andrew had, he had seen you hurt and his instinct took over.

And his instinct told him to eliminate this threat.

Billy struggled against Andrews hold and in a moment of desperation, Billy pulled a knife from his belt and blindly stabbed in Andrews direction, managing to shallowly cut his side. The injury distracted Andrew enough for Billy to knock Andrew off of him and get back on dry land. Billy attempted to stab Andrew but Andrew expertly knocked the blade out of his hand and into the depths of the pool.

Before Andrew could get on top of Billy and gain the upper hand again, you attacked Billy from behind, managing to straddle his chest once more as you delivered a few more blows. The image of Billy cutting your boyfriend with his knife, of drawing blood, flashed in your mind and your rage reached a fever pitch.

“Don’t-you-fucking-touch-him!” You yelled down at Billy, punctuating each word with a hit to his face. The bits and pieces you’d learned about Billy and his awful treatment of Andrew came to the forefront of your mind and you couldn’t help imagining young, child Andrew curled up in that locked closet, hungry and scared, because this piece of shit forgot about him. Rage flooded through your veins, lighting a fire in your body that sent you over the edge. With a guttural scream, you grabbed the sides of Billy head and pushed your thumbs into his eyes.

You knew you couldn't stomach pressing your thumbs into Billys eyes all the way so you lifted his head up and smashed it back against the concrete stone of the pool deck over and over, the next hit harder and angrier than the last. Billy was screaming and clawing at your arms and face as he tried hopelessly to get you to stop but you were too focused on the monster in front of you to stop, your anger giving you tunnel vision.

He had caused so much pain and trauma in Andrews life and he wasn’t even sorry. You were going to make him sorry. You were going to make him wish he'd never come back or met any of you in the first place. You were going to hurt him so bad he remembered it for the rest of his life and suffered every day because of it.

That wouldn't make up for what he did to Andrew, but it would be something.

Before you could finish what you started, Andrews strong arm was suddenly wrapping around your waist and yanking you up and away from Billys bloody and beaten body in one fluid motion. You were still enraged, your breathing ragged and your body twisting in Andrews hold as you snarled like an animal. You were no match for Andrew, who handled you easily and carried you towards the house. Andrew strode away from Billy, your back pressed to Andrews chest as he carried you past Smurf in the doorway of the house, and into the bathroom.

After closing and locking both bathroom doors, Andrew released you from his one armed hold. You collapsed back against the bathroom counter, your hands gripping the edge to support yourself as the adrenaline from the fight sang through your veins and made your limbs shaky. Andrew stepped up to you and took your face gently in his hands, tilting your head back so he could get a good look at your injuries. Andrews tender hold on your face, a complete 180 to the violence his hands inflicted on Billy, made your love for Andrew glow in your chest with a soft warmth. His touch melted away the rest of the anger simmering in you.

"Your lip is split." He said, his voice low and serious. "You're going to have a big bruise on your jaw." You shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh well, it was worth it." You replied, matching his seriousness. Andrews face flinched in a flurry of emotions - confusion, worry, anger.

"I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Hey." You pulled your brass knuckles off without looking and tossed them haphazardly into the sink behind you so you could mirror Andrew and take his beautiful face in your hands.

"The things he said about you hurt me Andrew. And I know they hurt you too. I love you. Do you get that?" You tilted your head empathetically at him, raising your eyebrows in emphasis. "I love you Andrew. I'm going to protect you and stand up for you and knock out any asshole who thinks he can run his mouth talking about you. I know you pulled me off from Billy because you were worried about how far I was going, but I don't regret it. Okay?" You stared pointedly at Andrew as he processed what you told him until he nodded in agreement.

A look of conviction passed through Andrews eyes and then he was pulling your face closer and kissing you deeply, pouring every emotion and thought he couldn't say into his touch.

The kiss stung a bit from your cut but you refused to show any pain because Andrew would stop and you didn't want him to stop. Sometimes Andrew had trouble expressing his affection and love for you in words, so he used his touch instead, kissing you and holding your hand and lying his head in your lap while you watched TV. He also showed his love through acts of service, making sure your car ran perfectly and running errands so you wouldn't have to after work and remembering to buy your makeup and perfumes before they ran out.

And as he demonstrated today, beating the shit out of anyone who would lay a hand on you. And you loved him for it.

You pulled back from the kiss when you needed air and Andrew pressed your foreheads together, his eyes still closed. He breathed in the moment with you, letting the reality that someone loved him so fiercely settle into his bones.

Andrew had never mattered this much to someone, he'd never been someones first choice and that's exactly what you did. You picked Andrew. You saw him, all of him, and that was exactly what you loved. He didn't need to hide or change or mold himself into a version of himself that you could tolerate, you loved him just as he was.

You tugged Andrews hands away from your face so you could carefully kiss his bloody and split knuckles, showing him once again that you weren't scared of him or judging his actions.

"I think I broke his nose." You commented with a sly smile and another kiss to Andrews knuckles. Andrew tried not to smile at the thought of Billys broken nose but you kept smiling like the cat that ate the canary, so damn proud of what you did, and Andrew lost the battle as his lips curved upwards.

"He deserved it." Andrew replied as he brushed some stray hair away from your face.

"And more." Andrews smile burst open at your comment and you smiled just as wildly back at him.

Maybe people would critique your relationship with Andrew by saying you loved him just a little too much. Maybe they would say that beating someone up until they were spitting blood in defensive of the person you loved was too much, that "normal" people didn't do that.

You'd tell those people to fuck off.

You knew what mattered to you, and that was Andrew. You'd burn the world down for him and he'd stand between you and the rest of the world to keep you safe. That's what love looked like to you. Someone who was there of you, someone who showed up and had your back and loved you just as you were, bloody knuckles and all.

dividers by @ cursed-carmine

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That was all it was supposed to be. A simple task while Aventurine attended yet another high-stakes meeting with the upper echelon of Pier Point's Investment Syndicate. You weren't even supposed to be seen. But then someone said something—something about him, and you’d snapped.

Now, standing in the middle of the opulent hallway, with a grown executive shaking and stammering apologies while practically in tears, you barely noticed the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

“Now that’s not something you see every day.”

Your stomach dropped.

You turned, eyes wide, face going redder by the second.

Aventurine stood there in the doorway, hat tilted, a familiar smirk tugging at his lips, but his eyes were wide with unfiltered curiosity. Maybe even... awe?

“Sunshine,” he drawled, slowly stepping closer, glancing past you toward the blubbering executive. “I leave for fifteen minutes, and you turn the place into a courtroom drama. Should I be flattered or terrified?”

“I—uh—it’s not what it looked like—” You began stumbling over your words, shoulders practically shrinking.

But Aventurine wasn’t laughing. Not yet.

Instead, he circled around you slowly, like a lion eyeing something far more interesting than prey.

“You glared at him, and I swear I saw his soul leave his body,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “You didn’t even raise your voice. Just stared him down like he owed you seven lifetimes.”

You winced. “He said you were nothing but a fraud in a pretty suit.”

A pause.

Aventurine blinked, then let out a low whistle. “So that’s what did it. You were defending me, darling?”

Your head dipped, face now fully hidden in your palms. “I-I didn’t mean to go that far...”

“Oh no, no, no,” he said, gliding in to gently pull your hands away from your face. “Don’t start blushing now—I live for your blushes, but this?” He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “This is brand-new. You, threatening a full-grown man into submission without lifting a finger? It’s... frankly, exhilarating.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re not mad?”

Aventurine leaned in, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “I’m a little scared, sweetheart. But gods above, do I love it.”

You choked on your own breath, burying your face in his chest out of sheer embarrassment.

He laughed then, arms wrapping around you with ease, that usual cocky warmth bleeding into something softer, more grounded. “For the record, you had him on the verge of tears before I even walked in. I’ve made CEOs cry with five-year economic forecasts, and I’ve never gotten that reaction.”

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you mumbled against his shirt.

“You didn’t scare me, love,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You scared him. I’ve seen men pull guns on me without batting an eye. But you? You give him one look and he aged ten years.”

He pulled back enough to meet your eyes again, his grin a little gentler now.

“I always thought I had you all figured out, [Name]. Shy, soft, sweet... and completely at my mercy.”

You puffed your cheeks at him, and he snorted.

“But I was wrong. There’s a whole other side of you. One that could probably have me begging for mercy if I stepped too far.”

You looked away, embarrassed again. “I don’t like people insulting the ones I love.”

Aventurine went quiet for a beat.

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing just beneath your eye. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive.”

You blinked at him.

He leaned in, so close his lips barely brushed yours. “Because I get to say I’m loved by you. Every part of you—shy and scary.”

You laughed nervously, trying to pull away, but he caught your chin with two fingers, his expression unusually earnest.

“Don’t hide that side from me. Ever,” he whispered. “You think you shocked me? Maybe. But you also reminded me I’m not the only one playing a game of masks.”

“And if you ever feel like snapping someone into pieces again,” he added with a sly smile, “just let me know in advance. I’ll bring popcorn.”

You groaned and shoved his chest lightly, earning a rich laugh.

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I adore you, sunshine. Every fiery, terrifying inch.”

Later that night, Aventurine was overheard warning a junior executive in the elevator:

“If you ever so much as look at [Name] the wrong way, just know this—I won’t have to lift a finger. My darling will eviscerate you with a smile. And between us?” He grinned as the elevator doors slid shut. “I can’t say I blame them.”

I'm halfway through a chapter of my book when the knock comes.

It's nearly midnight. Too late for visitors. My stomach sinks before I can even reach the door.

When I open it, Steve Harrington is standing there, swaying slightly, eyes glossy, hair wild. The scent of alcohol hits me instantly - beer, cheap whiskey, maybe something stronger - and underneath it, something else: regret.

"Steve?" I blink. "Are you okay?"

He stumbles forward. I catch him instinctively, steadying him before he tips completely into me. His weight leans against my shoulder like he forgot how to stand on his own.

"I messed up," he mumbles. "I didn't mean to hurt anybody."

His voice is slurred and low, almost ashamed. He won't look me in the eye.

"I - I'm sorry, okay? I was just... I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."

He sounds like a balloon that's been deflating for hours - slow and painful and too loud in the quiet.

"Come on," I whisper. "Let's get you inside."

I guide him to the couch. He collapses into the cushions with a groan, eyes closing, like the act of sitting down took the last bit of strength he had. I go to the kitchen, fill a glass of water, dig up some Advil.

When I come back, I sit beside him and hold out the glass. "Here. You'll thank me in the morning."

He doesn't take it. Just stares at his hands like they've betrayed him.

"Why are you so nice to me?" he asks.

The question cuts through the quiet like a knife. His voice is barely above a whisper, and when he looks at me, it's the first time all night his eyes are clear. Sad, but clear.

"Because you're my friend," I say. "And I don't like seeing you like this."

He laughs. A bitter, broken sound. "Yeah, well, I'm a shit friend."

"Everyone messes up, Steve. It doesn't mean you stop trying."

His eyes flick to mine, and for a moment I see it all - whatever weight he's been carrying, whatever guilt he's dragging behind him like a shadow.

"I just..." he starts, then falters. "I don't know how to fix it."

"Maybe you don't have to fix everything right now. Maybe you just need to let someone help."

He looks at me like he's never heard that before. Like it's new. Like it matters.

"I don't want to be alone," he says, voice cracking. "Can you just... stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

And I don't.

Later, when he's asleep - softer now, breathing slow - I curl into the recliner. Not too close. Not too far. I watch the slow rise and fall of his chest and hope that in the morning, he'll still be here. That we'll still be okay.

Adam would never admit this, but Ray did scare him a little bit. It wasn't that Ray was actually an effective bully, it was more that he had a couple inches on Adam and serious daddy issues. There was also the chance that Ray would accidentally hurt Adam, worse than he himself was truly capable of. Freak accidents could always occur.

It had started simply enough: Ray had been picking on Adam’s friend Y/n during lunch. Now, it wasn’t that Adam like-liked Y/n, because he really, truly, most definitely, 100%, probably didn’t, but he couldn’t stand by while Ray picked on her. So, he’d instigated. Ray had rounded on him and bolted, and so did Adam. They’d run through the lunchroom and the school, dodging teachers, the principal’s grabbing hand, and other students until eventually Adam (who felt that his lead in the race would save him from a serious ass-kicking) burst outside. He’d hesitated, looking left and right, breathing heavily but not badly, and hurried to one side. He had felt, with his advantageous lead and stable (so far) breathing, that he’d win. He had not. Adam fucking tripped and went sprawling. Ray had been on him in a second, yanking him to his feet and pinning Adam up against a wall, glaring at him. Adam's mouth went a mile a minute. Quips, jabs, one liners, some of them even pretty good. They had flowed out automatically, the easiest thing in the world for him. It wasn't until Adam had said something about Ray and Chuckie being too stupid to snark anything back that Ray had really reacted. 

“You turds are standing here like a couple of mute mimes, ventriloquist dummies with no puppetmaster. You really think I'm going to be scared of a couple of meat bags who can't even talk?” Or something like that. Adam couldn't really remember what it had been right now, as he was on his back on the ground, Ray's foot stomped down into his chest. 

“You think you're so funny, Reid.” Ray had sneered. He had grabbed Adam by the front of his shirt and jerked him forward and around, pushing him to the ground. “Well, we'll see how funny you are when, …when you've lost!” Ray had put his foot on Adam's chest triumphantly. Chuckie had offered up his hand for a high five, a lumbering and slow gesture, a stupid grin on his face, and Ray smacked it, smirking down at Adam.

“That's your best? Really?” Adam snarked back from the ground, to which Ray pressed his foot down harder. This was when it began. It, the pressure. Then It, the crushing feeling, the internal collapse of systems intended to keep you alive. Damn it, he’d been fine running, even. You'd think providing oxygen to a 98 pound twelve year old would be an easy task, but no, apparently not for Adam's lungs. He sucked in a thin, wheezy breath, looking up at Ray. Adam tried to glare but the fear was setting in. He did the only thing he knew how. “Step any harder on me and I'll have to petition your mom to stop being so fat. The weight was…” he gasps slightly as pain snaked through him, “transferred to you in bone density. Thank God not in fat density, or you'd be enormous.” 

Ray looked presently peeved at this, and moved to punch Adam in the face. Adam sucked in another wheezing breath. Chuckie stood stupidly alongside Ray.

“Leave him alone!” An indignant shout rung out across the lot. 

Ray's head swiveled to see who it was. The girl from lunch. The quiet one. He smirked. “Go home, you're not involved in this.” He pulled back from Adam, his foot still on his chest, baring his own chest to the girl. He was trying to look big and scary. Ray almost didn't even bother really looking at her, he figured she would be scared off pretty easily, but at the last second caught a glimpse of her expression. His eyes snapped up, a thin trail of dread trickling down him. He saw anger. Crystal clear, unfiltered fury. More than Ray had ever seen, even from his mom when he failed tests. She also looked calm, like she knew precisely how to… how to…

“Let him go,” Y/n said firmly. “Before I have to fuck you up, Ray.”

This made Chuckie nervous; he took an unconscious step backward. Ray looked to him desperately, betrayed. “Chuck,” he hissed.

Adam wheezed tightly again, hands twitching against the concrete, searching for something to hold onto.

She stalked towards the three, a menacing stature about her. Determination, Certainty. “Go, Ray. Before I have to bring you home in a bag.” Y/n was two feet from him when his nerve finally broke. He stepped off Adam, who gasped and coughed, and took a couple nervous steps backward. Y/n looked at him darkly, shooing him away with her hands. 

Ray really wanted to be tough, but he kind of believed her. Maybe she would bring him home in a bag. Maybe she was insane or something. He took another couple steps away, still hesitating, looking for an opening he could hurt her through. But there were none, so he ran. Chuckie ran with him of course, much more slowly. 

Y/n called, “You're a bitch, Ray! Everyone knows it!” Then she was on her knees, talking to Adam very gently. “What's wrong?”

He wheezed, hands grabbing at his chest. He looked briefly at her, the panic now evident in his brown eyes. 

“Asthma attack, Ok. Where's your inhaler?” Y/n said quickly, hands at the ready, hovering in the air over Adam. “You have it with you, right?” Her eyes flashed to his, suddenly nervous.

Adam nodded, coughing, and grappled with the front pocket of his jeans. Y/n pushed his hands away quickly–they fell uselessly to the ground–and wrestled the inhaler from his pocket. She pulled the cap off and tossed it aside, bringing the inhaler to Adam's mouth.

“Ready?” Y/n asked.

He couldn't respond, just coughing and wheezing. He reached for her and grabbed her arm tightly, pulling it towards himself. 

Y/n put the inhaler in his mouth and triggered it. “3… 2… 1…” she counted down for him, watching his face closely. Adam let his breath out in a burst of air. Y/n rested a light hand on his chest, keeping the inhaler near his face. “Good?” she asked quietly. 

He shook his head, weakly pulling her arm back towards him, brown eyes wide with anxiety and focused on the next dose of medicine. He winced as his lungs wracked with pain again. She put the inhaler back in his mouth and triggered it again. Y/n counted again, watching him closely. Adam relaxed slightly, closing his eyes as he held his breath. He let his breath out slowly, the correct way, and sighed. His eyes flickered open, looking at Y/n with a surprised, trusting expression. He didn't talk for a long minute, just laying tiredly on his back, staring at this girl in front of him. Adam dimly realized that he still held her wrist and awkwardly let go, hand falling to the ground.

Y/n asked, “Should you sit up?”

Adam nodded, tiredly trying to get himself up. Y/n helped quickly, pulling him up by the arms. Adam ended up slumped against her, which made Y/n blush slightly. She supported his weight though, figuring that he needed the contact. Adam still didn't say anything, just breathing slowly. Y/n grabbed his hand and pushed the inhaler into it, wrapping his fingers around it for him. “There you go,” she said softly, feeling awkwardly self-conscious about holding Adam like she was. That wasn’t something that people who were just classmates did.  

“Thanks,” Adam finally said. “Ray is a bitch.” He continued to just slump against her, trying to pretend that he would get up soon and that he wasn’t really liking being this close to her. He didn’t have a crush on her. 

She nodded, smiling. They sat there in the quiet for a long time. Adam toyed with his inhaler and glanced shyly up at her and away quickly again when their eyes meet. He breathed slowly. “What makes you brave enough to…” Adam asked quietly, his eyes tracking her face.

She shrugged, jostling Adam slightly, looking off into the distance as she considered the question. The way Adam was leaning on her reminded her of the one time when she was a child and had found a puppy with a hurt foot. She’d cradled him too, as a protector. “I just know how to scare him. He's not really that big.”

“Bigger than me,” Adam mumbled, still fiddling with his inhaler. 

“Everyone's bigger than you, Adam,” she teased, laughing. Y/n looked back to him, catching a smile on his face.

Adam was laughing too. He found he didn't mind when Y/n teased him. He pushed himself up, sitting alone now. 

“I'll have to teach you my tricks.” She smirked. 

Adam nodded quietly, triggering another puff off the inhaler into his mouth. 

“Do you usually have to do more than once?” Y/n asked curiously.

Adam held up a finger to show that he needed a second. Y/n waited patiently. He let out his breath slowly, then speaking. “For the worse ones.” 

“Oh. Okay.”

Quiet again. Adam looked shyly between the ground and Y/n, who pretended not to notice. She looked towards the playground. 

The awkwardness present wasn't only because these were two awkward middle schoolers, though that wasn't helping at all, …it was because Y/n had had a crush on Adam Reed for a little while now. Sure, he was scrawny and had asthma but who really cared? His jokes in class always made her want to cry laughing, and he seemed to not care about all the stupid stuff teachers were always trying to make kids care about. It was kind of like he knew what was important in life. Like he knew there was something bigger out there. He looked at her and her insides would do flips and turns and some shy part of her brain would urge ‘look away, look away right now!’ So she stared at the playground. Y/n could feel his gaze on her, and saw in her peripherals that he seemed just as nervous as her. He was looking at her and then away, then glancing back.

The most hopeful part of her brain whispered quietly, ‘What if he likes me too?’ But the protective part was quick to reprimand, ‘don't think like that, he probably doesn't.’ Y/n glanced quickly at him, their eyes met, and she looked away.

Adam looked away too, blushing. 

He wasn't sure why he was feeling so nervous all of a sudden, he'd never felt nervous around Y/n before. Usually she would just let him copy off her homework and would trade good snacks at lunch. It was chill. Maybe he was feeling weird ‘cause she'd saved him from Ray, not that Adam wouldn't have survived on his own, he would have been fine. Maybe it was because she had been so smart about his inhaler, or like… something about her not judging him, or… he glanced at her again, noting the pinkish color on her cheeks and ears.

‘Oh, dear god no, please no,’ some part of Adam’s mind pleaded. He glanced at her again. ‘Fuck. …That’s it, we’re fucked. We’re fucked for sure.’ He tried to shush his racing mind, and think like one coherent thought at least but before he knew it was going to happen his mouth said, “Wanna come over and see a movie?” This was punctuated by a mental ‘Fuck! No! What are you doing?!’ But it was too late, he’d said it. Now he was trapped. He stared hopelessly at Y/n, waiting for her to… crush his heart, maybe? Perhaps he was still too young  for that. Would she accept? She wasn’t even looking his way, what if she said no? Would he just die on the spot?

Y/n turned to him with an abashed smile and said, “Sure.” She was blushing. 

‘Dear god, no! You’ll get cooties or something, god, stop!’ “We could watch something at my house, I’m sure my mom could bring you home after,” Adam said, trying to play it super cool. His hands danced nervously around the plastic inhaler. 

She nodded. “That… that sounds good, I’ll bet my dad could pick me up too if needed.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked nervously at him, never wanting to look away but also thinking, ‘I need to blink, did I blink enough? Or too much? God, I’m the worst. This is terrible.’

“My mom should be here soon, we could…” He gestured to the pickup area of the parking lot.

“Yeah.”

-

Y/n and Adam were sitting on the sofa before the big screen, Alien playing. Ellie was at the kitchen table, trying desperately to comprehend her husband’s tax filing system. 

The tension was palpable. Y/n and Adam could basically feel electrical vibrations passing between the two of them. Neither were watching the movie.

“Do you like the… movie?” Adam asked softly, looking to Y/n.

“Yeah, I think so.” Y/n smiled, looking back at him. 

Adam glanced over his shoulder at his mom, then to Y/n. His whole brain was screaming not to, but he hesitantly placed his hand onto Y/n’s. His breath hitched nervously, as he waited for her to punch him in the face or scream in disgust, but… her fingers laced into his calmly. Adam glanced up at her, face beet red. She smiled, squeezing his hand in her own. 

Adam looked shyly back to the TV, a grin creeping onto his face. 

Your blood was boiling.

You had managed to get it down to a simmer before. But now? It was overflowing.

Two long weeks waiting, hoping to get any information on the Captain’s whereabouts. Two weeks to figure out who framed him and that poor Cadet and prove their innocence to these severe, unfeeling, vindictive aliens. Two weeks of being scared shitless and worried sick. Two weeks of not knowing if Chris was alive or dead or what. Why’d they have to be so damn ominous about punishment and just tell you like it was?!

Now all that fear in your gut had ignited into rage, a match to gasoline. It ate up the biting chill of the prison complex.

“Where is he?!” You barked.

“This way.” A guard gestured.

The doors opened, you shoulder checked one of the sentries in your eagerness to enter the cell. You took an oath to do no harm, but you weren’t about to take any shit.

You saw him, a feeble balm of relief to your distress. He didn’t look good.

“Y/N” he exhaled, his relief sabotaging his professionalism. “H-h-hey.”

His uniform was in ribbons, exposing contusions and welts on his sides and back of varying ages, some as new as yesterday. He was trying to stifle it (as if it would soothe your worry, or your wrath) but he was shivering. Stage one onset of hypothermia, signs of malnutrition. You wouldn’t have noticed the two broken knuckles if he hadn’t flinched away from instinctively trying to warm his hands.

To hell with your oath, actually, you were gonna cause a diplomatic incident.

“Is this how you treat your prisoners?! He wasn’t even condemned by your laws! It’s inhumane! It’s- you heartless-“

“Doctor don’t! It’s over… it is over, right? I can get- get outta here?” He added suddenly a little nervously.

The guard nodded, you were still nose to what you assumed was their nose.

“Please, don’t make me make it an order.” He pleaded, earnest, visibly exhausted.

Deep breaths “Fine.”

You would channel your fury elsewhere, you’re work. Time to break out the medical tricorder, no chancing internal bleeding or any other horrible little surprises Chris wasn’t going to disclose unless you found them first.

“Where- how’s Cadet Uhur-“ he began.

“She’s fine Chris, M’Benga’s got her, she’s doing a lot better than you are so shut up and let me scan you.” You knelt down in front of him, eye level with those worried stormy blues. Fighting the flush it gave you down with righteous anger and professional poise.

That god damn guard was still there, you could feel it.

“A little medical privacy please?!”

The guard turned the corner reluctantly, you’d shoo him away from being just outside the door if you could.

“Kn-knew she was innocent, could never, took res-responsibility for h-her-, I was-“

“You always do. Debriefing me while you’re body is trying to keep you from freezing to death is not helpful Chris. You’re already in a bad enough state as it is.” The scans were coming up as expected, no surprises so far. He was freezing to the touch though, it twisted you up inside. There wasn’t even a ratty blanket in here.

“Had worse.” He laughed “You-“

“Could you stop understating your injuries for five minutes?! Just once?! Yes I have pulled you out of worse and I’m damn proud of myself for it! YOU should not be! There isn’t a goddamn scoreboard in the afterlife that counts how many times you almost made it! Damnit Chris you- you- you’re…”

Before you knew what the hell you were doing you kissed him hard on the lips.

You jerked back in a shock of self-awareness, staring at each other for a moment, shocked, blushing.

“That- that was, warm.” Pike stated, a little dumbstruck.

“I… uh, well, there’s more where that came from you big idiot! Let’s get you out of here.” What in the goddamn hell were you saying?!

Too late now, your work here was done, couldn’t do more until you got to sick bay. Sick bay and maybe, other places, more private, maybe, you weren’t sure yet. You were pretty sure you were still angry with him. Probably.

You took him by his ice cold, uninjured hand, helping him to his feet. Marching out of the cell with your head held high, putting yourself between Pike and anyone who’d dare think of doing any more damage to him.

You only broke away when you get in visual range of the shuttle.

🐍You being the one to look out for him, ever since you've been friends and into being in a romantic relationship.

🐍Loki being impressed with your powers and growing an interest for you.

🐍Loki often asking you to demonstrate a little of your powers.

🐍Loki thinking it's adorable how protective you are, but he's actually touched at how someone can care for him so much.

🐍Thor believing you're perfect Loki and just loves you.

🐍You having conversations with Loki about your powers and how you got them, and noticing how fascinated he is.

🐍You already knowing you may be feared by many because of how powerful you are, and Loki understanding and being there for you if you ever feel alone.

🐍Everyone knowing not to pick on Loki too much, knowing you would snap. (Which sometimes leads to Loki pranking everyone nonstop because he knows they might get in trouble if they do something they might regret)

🐍You immediately defending Loki whenever someone talks bad about him, rather if it's behind his back or infront of him. Loki does smirk when the person has a shocked reaction after you tell them off.

🐍You scolding Loki for doing something that could've gotten him hurt, only for him to chuckle and tell you he's going to do it again (just to have you look after him even more).

🐍You always looking after Loki during missions.

🐍You not hesitating to use your powers to protect him, having Loki just stare at you in awe (then being praised by him afterwards).

🐍You always knowing if something is bothering Loki, no matter how good he is at hiding it. And also being the first to comfort him, also making sure no one else is around you.

🐍You willing to use your powers to remove who's in your way to get to Loki if he's in danger. (and Loki just being amazed because of you.)