#the file's name is oh hey billy we thought you were dead. what's going on. who cares. blasting him blasting him bl

[risaonda]

WHAT the

#venus ambassador give us a post #this isn't going to an art tag but i Will reblog it to petalblast in a sec #my unfinished files are a goldmine actually. is this me shooting him with a bazooka or is he shooting me with a bazooka. who fucking knows #this file was created january 18 2020. i don't even know what i planned to draw for real this is just the warm up doodle #the file's name is oh hey billy we thought you were dead. what's going on. who cares. blasting him blasting him bl

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9  

Part 10   Part 11   Part 12

gif credit: @bilyrusso

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn’t accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he’d been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo’s body had already been picked up. You’d signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla’s things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you’d talked to him last and you didn’t want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren’t distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you’d been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy’s name on the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted. “You still at work?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

There was a pause. “You give off the workaholic vibe.”

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. “How are you?”

“You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?” He sighed. “No big loss. I’m fine.”

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. “Do you need anything?”

“The funeral service is tomorrow.” A beat of silence followed. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“2pm.”

“I’ll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?”

“When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she’s got any friends.”

“What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else there. Just you.”

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn’t typical of him.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “I would but I have so much work to do. I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Come over after you’re done.”

“It’ll be really late.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can stop by my place to pick up your mom’s-.”

“No, it’s okay.”

You realized he wasn’t quite ready to go through Carla’s belongings yet.

“Bring your stuff with you.”

“Stuff?”

“Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever.”

“Oh. You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Despite the conversation coming to a natural end, he wasn’t hanging up. It seemed as if he was reluctant to be alone, probably because that meant dealing with the complicated emotions for his mother. You knew exactly how that felt. “If you want, I can leave now. I can work from your apartment instead of the office.”

“You’re not worried I’ll be tempted to spy on Valiant stuff?” he teased.

You smiled. “As if I’d let you see what I’m working on.”

“Guess no corporate espionage for me tonight.”

“Still going to keep you away from my laptop.”

He chuckled. “Just get here. I promise not to bug you while you work.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you started gathering your things together.

***

An hour later, you were at his place. When he opened the door, you immediately grew concerned at how tired he looked. Traveling back and forth from Vegas plus dealing with the news about Carla’s death within the last few hours meant he was absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” he greeted you, smiling as he took the overnight bag from your hands.

You removed your heels while he took your bag inside his room and then made your way to his living room. While his penthouse suite was much bigger than yours, you actually didn’t like it very much. Despite the high-end finishes and the beautiful interiors - Billy had obviously hired a designer to make the place look good - it always felt very cool and inhospitable to you. It was too perfect and you always felt out of place inside the suite.

“You hungry?” he asked, coming up behind you. “I ordered dinner for you.” Arms encircling your waist, he dropped a kiss on the back of your head as he maneuvered you to the kitchen. He’d laid out the food for you on the dining table, and from the take-out containers you knew it was from one of your favourite Indian restaurants. The thoughtful gesture surprised you, you weren’t used to that from him. Noting that he’d only set the table for one, you turned around to look at him. “You’re not going to eat with me?”

“I ate already. I was starving. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You cradled his face with one hand, your eyes roving over his beautiful face as he placed a kiss on the fleshy part of your palm. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep?”

“No” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, weary. For a moment he closed his eyes, simply holding still, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You didn’t understand why you’d even initiated the embrace – hugs were never your thing – but seeing him so beaten-down you were desperate to comfort him. He leaned into you, his body flushed against yours, and you held him tight. Stroking the nape of his neck, you placed a soft kiss on the center of his forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap while I work?”

“You don’t mind?”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “At least I don’t have to worry about you stealing my company secrets while you sleep.”

He smirked. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yup. Probably still working away.”

Billy grazed your temple softly before dropping a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay, but eat first.”

You nodded your head, watching after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway.

Sighing, you went to the sink to wash your hands before eating.

***

It was after midnight and you were still working on your slide deck when you heard Billy puttering around in the bathroom. Soon he slowly made his way towards you, dressed in a t-shirt and black boxers, his hair all messy. He yawned lazily, falling onto the other end of the couch.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” you remarked.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

“Almost done.” You saved the file and shut off the laptop before slipping it back inside your bag.

Suddenly he pulled you closer and you found yourself tucked underneath him on the couch as he glanced down at you from above. “You work too hard.”

You smiled up at him. “They don’t pay me the big bucks to sit there and look pretty.”

A slow, incandescent smile curved his lips. “I would. If I ran Valiant, you’d be my personal stress relief. You’d be in my office the entire time and do nothing but look pretty and service me.”

“That’s sexual harassment.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’d make it worth your while.”

You laughed, angling up to kiss him. “Your breath is all minty fresh.”

“I brushed my teeth for you.”

“Wow. Be still my heart.”

A warm grin covered his face as he shifted down your body to nuzzle your neck. His weight was heavy as he rested atop you, but you liked the solid feel of him on you, the way you felt all safe and warm. You stroked his hair while he drew lazy circles on your chest, the silence between you two comforting.

“No one knows about her. Not Frank, not Curtis, no one.”

Those names were familiar to you because Billy had mentioned them in passing a few times. Of course he’d never shared any other info, but you being you, you’d dug around and found out more about them. You knew they’d served with Billy and he considered them his closest friends.

“When I found her three years ago, I put her in that home and forgot all about her.”

“You visited her every week,” you reminded him.

“Because I wanted her to regret abandoning me. I wanted her to see how far I’d come, I wanted to throw her mistakes in her face. But I don’t think she regretted safe-havening me, not even a bit.”

The bitter pain in his voice made your heart hurt for him.

“Maybe I should be happy she’s finally dead, or maybe I’m supposed to be sad or something.”

“How do you actually feel?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Billy, I think that’s normal. There’s no right or wrong in this. All of your feelings are valid.”

“Even if her dying made me absolutely ecstatic? You wouldn’t think I was a fucking psychopath?”

“You are a psychopath but not because you have conflicting emotions about your terrible mother dying. You have the right to feel how you feel about her, whatever that might be.”

Eyes blazing with emotion, he hovered about you to meet your gaze. “Then what makes me a psychopath?”

You quirked your eyebrow. “The fact you want to torture my dates.”

“Not just torture, I want to kill them.” Eyes darkened, voice velvety-smooth, he covered your mouth with his and ravaged you with a kiss that left you thrumming and breathless.

“Only you’re allowed to touch me?” you asked through labored breaths.

“Yes.” His voice was a lustful rasp, his mouth leaving a heated trail as he sucked on the oh-so-sensitive corner of where your neck and shoulder intersected. Sparks of electricity ran down your spine. “Only me.”

You took his hand and guided it down your body, parting your thighs for him.

Like always, you were soon completely lost in the erotic pleasure of his mouth on you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, your hands grabbed the back of the couch for support as he fucked you with his hands and mouth, sucking you, licking you, his tongue flicking over your clit until you were keening under him. Body arching off the couch, you moaned his name louder and louder until he drove you completely over the edge.

Then you felt a light slap on your cunt which immediately brought you back to reality. Opening your eyes, you found Billy perched between your legs, gracing you with the most wicked smile. “That’s one.” He slapped your pussy again, this time his long, lean fingers ever so slightly grazing your clit and your hips bucked, wanting more. “As promised.” His eyebrow quirked up. “Punishment.”

“Not fair,” you protested. “I’ll date who I want.”

He slapped you again, a little harder this time, but then he leaned down to place comforting kisses on the very spots he assaulted and you moaned with pleasure.

“All of you.” His tongue lapped over your clit, eyes locked with yours. “Belongs to me. I own you.”

“You don’t!” You squealed when he flipped you over unexpectedly, grabbing you by the hips so your ass was lifted of the couch. And then he squeezed your butt cheeks, biting them lightly before he started rimming you.

***

After sharing a shower the two of you were laying in his bed, your back pressed against his chest as you both stared up at the ceiling. His one hand was intertwined with yours, the other arm circled around your hips. The two of you didn’t have sex but you didn’t mind. You were both fatigued.

“I smell like you now,” you murmured, realizing the soap in his shower had left its scent on you.

“I know. I like it.” He squeezed your fingers. “I have a present for you.”

“I hope it’s not earrings again.”

He chuckled. “No, not earrings.”

“What is it then?”

“Jewelry.”

You turned back to look at him. “What? Like a necklace?”

“Something like that. Except I’m the only one who’ll see you wearing it.”

“Ah. And where is this gift?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not here yet.”

You smiled to yourself. “People usually wait until they have the gift in hand before telling others about it.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’m excited to see you wear it.”

He stroked your hair, and your eyes grew heavy. Soon you started falling into deep slumber, feeling calm, comforted by Billy’s arms around you.

“What happened with your family?”

Your eyes flew open. Like always, any mention of your family unfurled anxiety within you. You didn’t like thinking about them letting alone discussing them. “They passed away.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up so you were facing him now, his intoxicating gaze completely focused on you. “That day when I asked you about the pictures, you said you weren’t close to your family.”

“I meant my extended family. I don’t keep in touch with them,” you replied smoothly.

“What were your parents like?”

Irritation surged through you at his obtrusive questions but you had to remind yourself he just lost his mother. He was feeling out-of-sorts, working through his grief – even if he didn’t think so – and he was reaching out to the only person in his life that knew about his mother. “Normal.”

He simply stared at you for a long time, studying you, saying nothing. “Normal,” he repeated, finally breaking the strained silence.

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze to the base of his throat so you didn’t have to hold his piercing stare. “Yup.”

“How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course,” you lied.

He reached out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So you grew up with great parents, white picket fence and all that bullshit? Sounds like you had a fairytale childhood.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure. I’ll add this to the list of all the other shit we’ll talk about someday.”

He sounded almost angry with you and you weren’t sure why. Before you could question him, however, he pulled you close so you were snuggled against his chest and the warmth of his body was enough to silence your brain and lull you to sleep.

***

It was a cold, crisp autumn day in New York. The outdoor service, attended by only you and Billy, was short and quick. Throughout it, he’d gripped your hand even though he’d been outwardly calm and collected. Even now as he stood a few feet away from you, impeccably dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses as he stared out at the pond, you sensed he was a complete mess inside. You didn’t know what to say to him so you simply sat on the bench, both of you in an isolated corner of the garden. Eventually he came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his.

“I’d have given her the whole world.” His voice was filled with pain and longing as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the upper pocket of his suit. “I would have given her anything she ever wanted.” Billy’s eyes met yours. “If she’d just wanted me.”

You scooted closer to wrap your arms around him, breathing him in as he sunk into you. His hands caressed your back, his grip on you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. After a while he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes holding you prisoner in front of him.

“Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

“Billy-”

“Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

“It wasn’t a fucking request, Y/N.”

You tried to pull away from him but he fisted the back of your hair, holding you in place.

The raw urgency in his voice played havoc with your emotions. If you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could shut out all the doubts in your head and simply believe him - but you could only live the fantasy for a short moment before reality forced its way back in. “You don’t mean those words, Billy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t feel that strongly about me.”

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you with hostility. “You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“I’m not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want?”

You gave him a sad smile. “The best of everything. Best car, best clothes, the most beautiful women in your arms. You want all that because you need others to want what you have.”

“Is that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that – except I don’t fit into any of those categories. You want a woman like Dinah Madani. I’m not her. So eventually this thing between us will end.”

His jaw was set in a grim line, eyes burning bright with rage. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Don’t get mad. You know it’s the truth.”

He yanked you closer, crushing you against him. “It’s been me against the world for as long as I can remember. But when I look at you.” His eyes softened, mouth parting as his dark gaze roamed over your face. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”

Your heart melted. The tenuous handle you had on your self-control disintegrated completely. You closed your mouth over his, kissing him frantically as he picked you up and straddled you across his lap.

He pulled back to look at you. “You’re my home. You’re all I need.”

Part 14

A/N - As always, all of your feedback, comments, asks, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated. They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, please let me know.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo imagine

[xmalereader]

Billy Hargrove X Male Reader

|| FOUR ||

-

|| Masterlist ||

|| ONE — TWO — THREE — FOUR

-

Summary: Reader is new to Hawkins, his parents had just moved into the new house and are trying to start over from there old lives. But what if reader can’t? He’s still a messed up kid who’s tired of pretending to be happy...and that damn mullet head of a ghost won’t stop following him around!!

Warnings: Langauge, angst, fluff, dark humor, Steve Harrington, soft billy for reader, children don’t appear just yet!

—

—

It was 7:30 am when his parents were up and ready to leave for work. He was locked upstairs in his room, he’s been there all day and night, ever since he returned back from the mall he couldn’t help but think about those visions that he had. They all mentioned so many things that didn’t make sense, but today he was going to look for answers and that time was now!

“Alright y/n!! We’re heading out so don’t burn down the place!!” He hears his mother shout as she grabs her purse and car keys, his father following her out as they head towards and car and get inside.

Y/n can head the engine start as he listens carefully, hearing the car backing up and it’s wheels rubbing up against the dark road as he hears them drive down the street. Once the car was out of sight he stays lying in bed a little longer, In the quietness.

“We’re clear.”

Y/n jolts out of bed once those words spill out of Billy’s mouth. Tossing the blankets aside as he rushes out of his room and upstairs to his parents. “Remember, keep an eye out in case they comeback.” He orders billy as he slams his parents door open, actually he kicked it open.

Rushing inside as he’s quick to dig through there belongings.

“You sure this is a good idea? Once they come back they’ll notice the mess and freak out, thinking that you got an episode or something.” He hears billy say as he stands by the window, staring at the front yard, keeping a look out in case y/n’s parents decide to come back home.

“Who cares, I’m already crazy thanks to them.” He continues to dig through drawers, tossing them out as he sighs deeply and checks the closet next, throwing there clothes around the room as he searches for any information about his medical health.

“Sounds about right.” Billy looks over his shoulder to see y/n trashing up the place, sighing deeply he rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the wall, walking around the room as he decides to help him out with the search instead, he tries to check for the most obvious places where a parent would hide such important information.

He walks around the room and hums to himself, eyeing the large bad that was palaced in the center of the room. His eyes narrow as he thinks before bending down and getting on his knees, he looks under the bed and notices a box. “Hey y/n, there’s something over here.” He calls out as y/n quickly rushes to his side, looking under the bed as well as he notices the strange box and grins.

He crawls under and grabs the box, crawling back out with it in his hands as he sets it on the bed.” Think this could be it?” He asks billy as he’s quick to pry it open, a few folders drop out as he bites his lip nervously and notices his name printed all over them. “Guess so.” He hears billy sigh from his side as y/n grabs one of the files and flips it open. It held all of his school records; showing the classes his took and his grades.

“how many schools were you suspended from?” Oh and that was in there too.

“Many schools actually which is why I was forced into home schooling after the seventh time of getting suspend.” He tells billy with a proud smirk on his face which billy only rolled his eyes too.

“But this isnt the important one!” He tosses the folder across the room and grabs the next one. “Ah! Here it is!” He flips the folder open to see all of his medical records including his personal information. “Okay, so here we have the information for the hospital I was in and the asylum as well.” He spreads out the papers on the bed as he tries to read through everything, wanting to see if he can find any information about his visions or episodes.

The two sat on the bed cross legged as they read through the files. Y/n was too ingrossed with the reading that he didn’t even notice the third file that sat on the bed.

Billy was the first to mention it as he nudges y/n’s shoulder. “What’s that one about?” He points over to the folder. Y/n looks up from his reading and frowns, “probably nothing important.” He leans over to pick it up and sighs, falling back into his seating position was he flips the folder open.

The first thing he sees was an envelope, it was still sealed and it held an unknown address, instead of opening it first he sets it down on the side and turns back to the folder to see what else he can find. He checks out the other pages and he froze in spot as he stares down at one of the papers that read:

Adoption Agenceny for California

It was printed on with big bright red letters.

“What the hell—“

He turns the pages and finds his birth certificate but this one was different, he noticed the different birth dates and names. He’s quick to scramble for the other birth certificate that was organized with his medical records. He sets the two side to side as he reads them off quickly, noticing the change between the two as his eyes widen in realization.

“I’m adopted.”

“Shit.” He hears billy breath out as y/n stares at the certificates, he chuckles softly as he shakes his head. “I’m not only adopted but everything about me was changed too—“ he shakes his head in anger. “My name, birthday, the place—FUCK!” He shouts in anger, he can’t believe that this whole time his parents weren’t actually his parents but people who only adopted him because they either felt pity for him or becuase they were messing with him. All this time he was lied too, for his whole life.

He tosses the certifications away and huffs in anger, he sees the court paper and the adoption papers as well but what catches his eye the most was the envelope that was still sitting there, sealed away and never read.

Curiosity hits him as he takes the envelope and rips it open, pulling out a long letter of a few pages long. He unfolds the paper and a necklace with a small vile drops out. He picks up the necklace and inspects the veil that contained a strange blue liquid. Ignoring what it contained he pockets it in his pants and turns back to the letter.

“Can you even read that?” Billy asks as he stares at the letters that were all written in russian.

“Surprisingly yes.” Y/n whispers back as he begins to read the letter.

The first two pages only talked about the adoption which was boring since he didn’t even care anymore so instead of finishing up he tosses those pages out and finally gets reading to the good stuff.

His eyes scanned the words in front of him.

“—This child is now in your care and we expect you to keep a close eye on him, he is one of our most valuable expirments and we can’t risk losing him again. So, to make things easier for you both we have erased his past memories, giving him new ones and making him think that he’s a normal young boy that grew up to be different, we sugggest that you keep this information hidden and stored away from the child’s eyes and we will pay you as promised if you follow these rules.

Once the time is right we will come back for the boy—not to take him but to continue running test, keeping important data about his improvement throughout the age. Please, make sure that he is sent here once he reaches the age of ten—“

Y/n reads the address and he stutters out. “Ravencroft.”

“Ravencroft?” Y/n nods as he sets the letter down and searches through the pile of papers, tossing them out of the way as he finds what he was looking for which was a piece of paper that contained the information about his activities back in the asylum.

“Y/n.” Billy is able to pull him out of his thoughts as he pants. “What does the letter say?”

Y/n shakes his head. “I—this whole time I was just a test subject, they knew and they were getting paid for it. Paid to keep me from getting exposed and from causing trouble, this whole time I was nothing but an animal to be tested on!” He shouts out. “My life was planned from the very beginning! I was adopted only to keep my identity hidden from these people who only want to use me for there disgusting expierments! And I—“ He turns to billy. “Billy I was ten years old when they sent me to that damn hospital! I was just a kid!!”

He was yelling in anger, letting it all out as he throws things around the room. This whole time he thought that he was just a weird freaky kid who could see the dead only to find out that he was more than that and that he doesn’t remember anything for his previous life. “This is bullshit!”

“What the hell?!”

Y/n gasps in surpise as he turns around to see his father standing by the doorway, a nasty glare on his face as his eyes widen once he notices the hidden information revealed too y/n.

Guess the cat is out of the bag.

His father throws himself to him, trying to take the letters away but Y/n is quick to react as he collects the letters and jumps off the bed, quickly going around as he leaves the room. “Get back here you little shit!!” He hears the older man yell out as y/n pants and runs to his room, slamming the door closed and locked it. He hears his father slam against the door, causing him to gasp and step away from the door. Hearing his father shout as he bangs on the door, trying to get inside.

“Y/n we have to get out of here!” Billy grabs his hand and drags him towards the window. “Wait I don’t have shoes!”

“We don’t have time for that!”

“My ass is not going out there without shoes!” The two shout back in forth to each other.

“God your such a princess!”

Y/n grins at billy. “Am I a pretty princess?” He says in a flirty tone which only riles him up in anger, before he can yell at him to move his ass the bedroom door is suddenly being kicked down. Catching the two off guard as y/n quickly slips his shoes on and chuckels nervously. “Get on the roof, get on the roof, the roof!!” He repeats to himself as he slides the window open and steps outside.

Once he’s on the roof his bedroom door is finally kicked open, an angry man stands at the entrance as he runs towards the window, getting ready to grab y/n but he’s quick to slam the window shut on his fathers fingers.

He hear him scream in agony which causes y/n to grin in satisfaction. He applies more pressure to the closed window, hearing a small crunch. “Take that you bastard!”

“Y/n that’s enough!” Billy grabs him by the hoodie and drags him away from the window.

Y/n gives his father one last glance before smirking evilly and jumping off the roof, grunting as his body tumbles against the grass. “Shit that was awesome but I’m never doing that again.” He groans out in pain as he holds his side. “Yeah but right now we need to go unless you want your father to come after you!”

“Right, right.” Y/n agrees with billy as the two bolted towards the woods.

Y/n has been running for awhile now that he finally stops to breath and to take a break. “How far out are we?” He pants out between breaths, placing his hands on his knees as he was bent over a near tree.

“We’re still in Hawkins but far away from home, maybe we can find a place to crash?” Billy suggested as y/n groans deeply and coughs from dehydration. “F-fuck I’m so tired and I just need water.” He gasps out as he moves his legs, walking further into the woods as he looks around for a place to crash.

His eyes land on a nice house which causes a smirk to appear on his lips. “How about there?” He points over and turns to face billy with a smile. Billy looks over at the house and shakes his head, “we aren’t breaking inside a random house to get sleep.” Y/n frowns at him and hums, “OH RIGHT! I just remembered, you can’t do anything because your dead!!” He shouts out and sprints away, running towards the house ahead of him while billy chases after him. “Dammit y/n!”

Y/n continue to laugh as he runs towards the house, humming to himself a spy theme song he hides behind walls and jumps over chairs, pressing himself against a wall as he looks both left and right before moving one. Billy rolls his eyes and groans in embarrassment, “believe me if I was alive I would’ve wanted to kill myself right here right now.” He says out loud for y/n to hear as the other continues to do weird parkour around the backyard. Finding a tree be begins to climb it, smiling to himself as he gets onto the roof top and sees a slight opened window. “Over here.” He whispers to billy as he moves quietly on the roof and towards the open window.

He slips his hands under and slowly pushes the window open, he quietly gets through and makes sure to close the window behind him. “See.” He sighs in relief. “We weren’t caught.” He says until the dark room is suddenly lit up.

His eyes widen as he looks over to his left to see a guy sitting up on his bed with wide eyes as well. Y/n bites his lip and gives off a forced smile. “Hi?” He waves awkwardly.

The guy opens his mouth, getting ready to scream but y/n it quick to jump on the bed and cover his mouth, putting full force on the guys mouth. “Shhh!! Be quiet!” He hisses out and turns towards the doorway to make sure that he doesn’t hear anyone coming upstairs. “Listen we need a place to hide so your going to be quiet and listen.” He adds in a harsh whisper as he hears billy shuffle next to him. “Harrington?”

Y/n raises a brow and looks over his shoulder to look at billy. “You know this guy?”

“We used to go to school together.”

“Oh.” Y/n is quick to put the puzzle piece together before being pulled away from his thoughts as Harrington tries to push him off. “Hey! I said quiet!” He growls out and Straddles him. “Are you going to fuck him or something?” Billy asks as he tilts his head to the side with a smirk on his face but y/n can only glare at him. “I need him to quiet down!” He hisses back as he keeps his hand over Harringtons mouth. “Look—!” He shouts this time, causing the other to freeze in place. “Listen just—“ he sighs. “I am going to uncover your mouth and once I do that I need you to stay quiet or else I’ll grab that pencil by your desk and jab your eye.” He warns.

Billy whistles behind him. “I don’t threating will help.”

Y/n ignores billy as he stares down at the other and slowly uncovers his mouth. “No screaming.” He repeats himself.

Once Harrington’s mouth is uncovered he glares at him. “Who the hell are you and why are you in my room? No, why did you break into my room?!” Y/n covers his mouth again from all the shouting. “Shut up!” He groans deeply. “I didn’t break in, I simply slipped inside becuase I need a hiding spot. You see, my parents are searching for me and want to send me away and my ass is not going back there until I find out where I am really from and from what I know, I have no memory of my previous past so I am stuck here and the only person that I trust is this room is myself and billy!” He rants out as Harrington raises a brow and muffled against his hand.

Y/n tilts his head and removes his hand again to allow him to talk. “Billy? Your alone in this room with me.”

“Oh, right...” y/n breaths out through his nose as he turns to see billy leaning against the wall, waiting fo him to come up with another plan. “Billy as in for Billy Hargrove, he died about a year ago and I can see dead people and the two of us have created some sort of bond and now he’s stuck with me until who knows how long.” He explains quickly which only earns hima horrified look from the other. “Your crazy!” He struggles to get out of y/n’s grip but he keeps him pinned down.

“Your name is Steve right?” He asks.

Steve eyes him and glares. “How do you know that?”

“Like I said, billy knows you.” He responds back as he feels billy place his hand on his shoulder and pull him back. “Let him go and maybe he will talk.” Said billy as y/n does as he’s told by letting go of Steve and moving away from him, he sits at the foot of the bed as Steve sits up and leans against the wall. “So, your saying tha Billy Hargrove is in this room right now?”

Y/n nods. “Yep, he’s been following me around since day one and he’s been a little annoying but so far he’s gettting better. He’s just lonely and needs someone and I seem to be the only one who can see him.” He explains, smiling over at billy who sat next to him. “Stop trying to charm me.” Y/n laughs at the comment.

Steve can only stare at the freak in fright. “Okay, tell me something that I will only know.”

Y/n thinks and turns to billy. “Anything?”

“tell him that I beat him up a year ago thinking that he was messing around with my little sister until she knocked me out with a sleeping dose.” Y/n stares at billy with an open mouth, shocked. “You never told me this!”

“Why should I?” Billy raises a brow as y/n pouts. “I feel very offended not knowing this.” He crosses his arms over his chest and turns to Steve, still wearing his pout as he says. “Billy says that he beat you up last year becuase he thought that you were messing around with his sister and that she put him to sleep with a sleeping dose.”

Steves eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

Turns out that the three spent the whole night explaining the situation that y/n was in, it was strange telling this weird guy that he just meet a few hours ago about his whole life story but something inside of him is telling him that he should trust him. “Okay listen, I really need some sleep or else my brain will explode from all of the questions.” Said y/n as he crawl over to the closet and slides it open, crawling through the small space as Steve stares at him weirdly. “What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable and hiding, who knows how your parents will react if they were to see me—as stranger—sleeping in your room.” Once he’s inside the closet he closes is behind him and gets comfortable. “Night night!” He says before lying on his side and faces the wall. He hears Steve shuffling behind him and hears him crawl back onto his bed and turns off the lights, not really saying anything back as y/n sighs through his nose.

“Were do you plan on going once the sun rises?” Asked billy as he sat next to him, sitting and leaning against the wall as y/n shrugs. “I don’t know, I just figured about that my life was a lie and that I was a freak this whole time but also that I don’t belong here or—I dont know where I even belong.” He mumbles out. He didn’t know what to do, once he found out the truth he couldn’t help but feel anger and betrayal, knowing that he was alone in this.

This whole time he was being used and he had no idea and now he has no idea where to start looking. He lies on his back and reaches inside his pocket to take out the letters, flipping through the pages as he narrows his eyes, trying to adjusts his eyes to the dark. “What if we go back to the hospital?”

Billy whips his head over with a glare. “No, you aren’t going to that hell hole.”

“But what if I’m looking for, is there? What if the answers are there billy?” He sits up slowly and sets the letters in front of him. “My memories have been taken from me and I don’t remember anything, i need to find answers as to why I am here, to why I can see you and to why I can see things once I touch an object.” He murmurs out, quiet enough for Steve not to hear.

Billy moves closer to y/n and places a hand on his cheek. “Hey, nothing will get better and we will find answers but going to that asylum is a huge no from me, for all we know those people could be there just waiting for you to fall in to there trap. We have to take this easy and slow, we start off simple and try to find small pieces of the puzzle.” He reassures him as y/n leans into him. “If you want to recover your memories then lets start off with what you already know.” He shrugs. “Think of it as chess, they already made their move. Now its your turn.”

Y/n lifts his head up to face billy and smiles with a firm nod. “Just like chess.”

#male reader #darce montgomery #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x male reader #stranger things x male reader #stranger things #crossovers #reader

[ellewritesathing]

Ten Things    I

Summary: If there’s one thing you have to know about Harvey Kinkle, it’s that he rarely thinks things through. So when he meets (and falls for) Sabrina Spellman on his first day of Baxter High and finds out that she can’t date anyone until her tempestuous sister does, it seems like the obvious solution is to get someone to date her so he can go out with Sabrina. A not so obvious choice for the challenge is Caliban, but, hey, it’s not like Harvey thought that far.

Masterlist  Part 1 | Next

Word-count: 2.3k+

A/N: up in the sky!! what’s that?? it’s a new series (ps: yeah I know 10 Things About You is an adaptation of Taming of the Shrew but i haven’t read Taming yet and i don’t want to sound like a pretentious asshole)

The Kinkles never left. Once they were planted somewhere, they rooted down and rode out whatever bad weather came their way. That was how the Kinkles survived, but when push came to shove, Harvey’s dad uprooted their whole family and they started over in Greendale. 

Even though Harvey was determined not to like it, he had to admit that Greendale's weird sort of charm, with all its strange folklore and mysterious townspeople, was warming up to him. But now that he’d been sitting in this office for fifteen minutes while the interim principal said nothing as typed something on her computer, Harvey was starting to think that this place was more weird than charm. 

“So, uh, do you have my schedule on file?” Harvey asked when he felt like his head was going to explode in the silence. “Or am I in the wrong office?” 

“Hmm?” 

Ms. Wardwell was a strange woman with a kind face and sharp eyes who wore glasses that were too big for her face. She’d spoken to Harvey exactly three and a half times before ‘checking in the system’ for his schedule, and she hadn’t spoken a word since. 

“Yes,” she said after a few seconds, clicking her mouse and turning away from the computer with a sigh to look Harvey dead in the eyes. 

“Um, yes to which one?” 

Harvey shifted in his seat uncomfortably as Mrs. Wardwell leaned down and picked up a pack of papers from the printer tray - which hadn’t printed anything since Harvey had been sitting there - and handed him the pack. 

“To both,” she said with a smile. “There’s your schedule, and now you’re in the wrong office. Mr. Putnam is outside to show you the grounds.” Clearly, Harvey didn’t respond fast enough because she added, “You can leave now.”

“Right. Thank you?” 

But Mrs. Wardwell was already staring at something on her computer screen. Instead of trying to get her attention again, Harvey got to his feet and slung his backpack over his shoulder on his way out. 

Whoever ‘Mr. Putnam’ was, Harvey had a tough time figuring out who he was among all the other people waiting in the hallway. He figured it had to be the guy closest to the door - one of those edgy, bad-boy types with long blonde hair and a leather jacket - but Harvey had barely gotten out the word ‘hi’ before the blonde guy got up and shoved his way past to get to the office. 

“Woah, what crawled up his butt and died?” another guy asked as he walked up to Harvey. He was smaller, in a baggy striped t-shirt, and wearing a hazy sort of smile. Harvey was still looking at the drawings on his sneakers when he stuck his hand out in front of him. “Theo. Uh, Theo Putnam. I’m supposed to show you around?” 

Harvey smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Harvey. Do you need to take a look at my schedule?” 

“Nah, I’ve got chem this period and I’d rather walk around the school with no direction,” Theo said. After a second he laughed and took the pack of papers from Harvey. “I’m just kidding. It’s my lunch period. You wanna get started?” 

Harvey gave him a quick nod and Theo started walking down the line of delinquents. Unlike Wardwell, Theo needed absolutely no prompting to start talking; almost as soon as they rounded a corner, he was spouting off facts about the building and nearly every person in it. 

Although he’d been answering Theo politely the whole way, Harvey stopped him when they got to the library and he saw the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Gentle blond curls down to her chin and the cutest, snarkiest face he’d ever seen. She was laughing with one of her friends, but when she caught his eye and smiled, Harvey’s heart nearly gave in. 

“Theo-” Harvey put a hand on Theo’s shoulder to stop him. “Who’s that?” 

Theo followed Harvey’s gaze across the library and his face fell. “Oh no, that’s Sabrina Spellman. She is way out of your league-” 

“Hey!” 

“-And she’s not allowed to date anyone,” Theo said after Harvey’s outburst. “Besides, even if she could, she’d be dating Nick Scratch.”

Harvey frowned and tilted his head slightly. “Nick Scratch? That’s seriously his name?” 

Theo rolled his eyes and kept walking. “Yeah, that’s seriously his name." Harvey figured Greendale was already weird enough; someone might as well be named Nick Scratch. "He’s a senior who’s been making moves on her all year. If it wasn’t for her sister-” 

“She has a sister?” 

“Nothing gets past you, huh?” Theo said with a teasing smile and a bump of Harvey's arm. “Buy, yeah, she has a sister. And Sabrina’s not allowed to date anyone until her sister does so I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” 

“Huh,” Harvey said quietly. He looked back over for one last look before Theo dragged him off to the gym, and Sabrina met his eye and waved at him. She smiled like she knew something he didn’t. 

Once again, Harvey's heart started melting in his chest. 

The idea that formed in his head hit him harder than the bookshelf he walked into: He’d find someone to go out with Sabrina’s sister, and then he’d figure out a way to ask her out.

---

They say there are only two sure things in life - death and taxes - but Sabrina was starting to think that there was another, somehow even more sure thing: that you were put on this earth to deny her any chance of fun. 

“Come on,” Sabrina said for the thousandth time. “It’s one party. You don’t even have to go! You can just drop me off and go to that bookstore you like. I’ll meet you there when I’m done.” 

“Hm, when you put it like that…” Sabrina rolled her eyes as you pretended to think, tapping your finger on the side of your locker door. “No.” 

“Y/N!” 

“No! I don’t want to go to some dumb high school party just so you can get a little buzzed on cheap beer and make out with Nick Scratch,” you said, slamming your locker shut. “So just drop it, okay?” 

“No, not okay.” Sabrina stepped in front of you when you started walking around her and grabbed your wrist. “It’s one party. Why can’t you do this one thing for me?” 

“Because it’s not just one thing. It’s a party today but then it’s prom in a month, and then it’s graduation season which means grad parties-” You maneuvered your wrist out of her grasp and put your hands on her shoulders when Sabrina kept stepping in front of you. “I need to get to class. Meet me at the car after school.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll get a ride with Prue,” Sabrina said with a huff. 

Instead of giving her any kind of reaction, all you did was nod and walk around her. Sabrina glared at your back as you disappeared down the hallway, but her pity party was interrupted when someone knocked into her. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Sabrina spun around to see who the offender was but all she saw was the sweet new kid Theo had been dragging around earlier. She knelt to help him with all the papers that went flying and added, in a much sweeter voice, “But you seem to have a little trouble with that. How’s your shoulder?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s fine. Trust me, the shelf had it worse,” he said awkwardly without meeting her eyes. “I walk into a lot of stuff.” 

Sabrina laughed, “I can see that.” Their hands met when they reached for a copy of his schedule and he pulled his hand away nervously. Sabrina smiled as she looked at the schedule and read the name along the top. “Well, Harvey Kinkle, it’s been a pleasure bumping into you. I’m Sabrina.” 

“Sabrina,” Harvey repeated. It sounded sweeter when he said it. “Are you okay? I’ve been told that walking into me is like getting bulldozed.” 

Even though Sabrina was trying very hard to be in a bad mood thanks to your instance to ruin her social life, she found herself laughing. “Bulldozed is definitely one way to put it,” she said with a smile. “But I’m okay. Promise.” 

“You sure?” Harvey asked with a smile of his own. He seemed to get a bit more confident as he stood up with her. “Maybe I should give you my number in case something comes up later? Like for insurance purposes.” 

“Well, it would be the responsible thing to do,” she said with a sly smile to match his. “Maybe we could-” Sabrina cut herself off as she saw Nick heading down to the gym with a couple of his friends. 

“Maybe we could...?” Harvey asked slowly, trying to get her attention again. 

“Uh, yeah,” Sabrina said as she looked at him again. She shoved his schedule to his chest. “I gotta go. Welcome to Baxter High!” 

Before Harvey had the chance to say anything, Sabrina took off down the hall and didn’t stop until she’d caught up with Nick. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she slowed to match his speed. 

“And?” Nick asked as he cast a look over his shoulder at you. “What did the dragon lady say?” 

“She didn’t go for it,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “I wish someone would just ask her out already.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone who wants to keep their head is going to try that.”

---

As if Sabrina’s little attempt to coerce you into going to a party didn’t put you in a bad enough mood, Wardwell was calling you into her office. That thing with Billy in the lunch line happened a week ago so you knew it couldn't be for that, and it’s not like you’d done anything today so maybe it was just to ruin your day, specifically. 

When you stormed into the office, you found Wardwell politely typing something on the computer and some wannabe punk in the chair across from her. He had his ankle crossed over the ripped edge of his other knee and ran his index finger along his lip as he took you in. You hated him and his perfect cheekbones almost immediately and purely on principle. 

“What?” you asked when no one said anything. “It’s the end of the day. I didn’t punch anyone. I just want to go home.” 

“Unfortunately, since you left Caliban here to wander the halls this morning, you can’t go home just yet,” Wardwell said with a sigh as she turned to look at you. “I’d like you to show him around first.” 

“You can’t keep me here,” you said and crossed your arms over your chest as you shifted your weight slightly. 

“Well, you can either show him around or get detention for disrespecting my authority. Either way, you’re not going home just yet,” Wardwell said sweetly. She folded her hands in her lap and smiled at you politely as you stewed. 

The guy - Caliban, you guessed - hadn’t moved an inch since you’d come in. He was watching you with annoyingly curious eyes but at least he was quiet. You could probably ditch him as soon as you were out of the office. 

You tore your eyes away from him to look back at Wardwell. “Fine.” 

“Lovely,” Wardwell smiled. "I have a feeling that this is just the start for the two of you."

You rolled your eyes at her faux wisdom and turned on your heel to walk out. If Caliban wanted to be shown around, he’d have to keep up. 

Unluckily for you, he did keep up. You’d only gotten a few feet out of the office before Caliban popped up next to you. His footsteps were surprisingly quiet as the two of you walked and his mouth just silent, but maybe that was just because your stomping drowned him out. 

You showed him everything in the building that was on the way to the parking lot (him only speaking to answer your statements with little quips and slight flirtations) and pointed out where the others would be. As soon as you were out and in the sunlight, you stopped walking and turned to look at him. 

There was no denying that he was attractive. High cheekbones and pretty blue-green eyes; you bet he even had a nice smile when he wasn’t being smug. 

“Well, that’s the school,” you said. “See you around.” 

“You’re just going to leave me here defenseless?” Caliban asked teasingly. 

“You look pretty smart,” you said, reaching out and patting his arm. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

Caliban laughed under his breath and dug in his pockets for something. He pulled a lighter out of one pocket and a cigarette out of another. “You’re not very welcoming for someone on the welcoming committee,” he said as he put the cigarette between his lips and fumbled to light it. 

Of course, he was a smoker. It went right along with his bad-boy persona. 

“Good thing I’m only doing this to get out of detention,” you said before walking out to find your car. 

---

Everyone else in Greendale had been freakishly accommodating to him, but not you. You were a breath of fresh air that barely said five complete sentences to Caliban during your walk from the office to the parking lot (his favorites had been 'here are the bathrooms to go to if you want to get a secondhand high' and 'those are the lockers that Wardwell doesn't like to be spraypainted'), and every time Caliban had seen you before this delightful interaction, you’d either been storming into a room or blowing out of one. 

Regardless, you were a force of nature and you were storming away from him now. You were moody, had a problem with authority, and rolled your eyes at everything he said. 

Caliban wouldn't have changed a thing about you.

Part 2

Tagged:  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​​  @foji2000​​  @mschfavngz​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​  @acciomaximoff​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​  @caliban-is-my-girl  @music-movies  @luquincy  @olivia-west-allen  @drrramaaaqweeen​  @roxytheimmortal​ (struck through wouldn’t tag)   

#Caliban #caliban imagine #caliban x reader #caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #ten things

[breanime]

Helpless (Part Six)

Let me know what you guys think!

*banner by @starkrobb​*

You had no idea who this Frank guy was, but you assumed he worked with Billy. The phone rang once before a gruff voice answered.

“You got news for me, Bill?”

You took a breath. “Um… Hey. Hi. This isn’t Billy, but he, uh… asked me to call you—”

“Who the hell is this?” The man asked back.

You bit your lip; you weren’t sure if you were supposed to give this guy a fake name or be honest with him. You decided to compromise with yourself. “I’m with Billy,” you answered, “He’s, uh, protecting me and he asked me to call you.”

“Where’s Bill?”

You heard a gunshot in the distance and turned to see Billy standing over a body a few feet away. “He’s over there,” you said, knowing the man couldn’t see what you were referring to, “Making sure all the guys who attacked us are dead. He wanted me to give you this location…” You rattled off the numbers and directions on the GPS, and the man grunted in response. “Are you… Are you coming?” You asked after he didn’t say anything. “Billy set our car on fire.”

The man made a noise that you interpreted as a chuckle. “Sounds about right… Yeah, I’m on my way.” And with that—he hung up.

You stared down at the phone in your hand, unsure of what to do and unhappy with your current state of restlessness. When you looked up again, Billy was approaching you.

“Did he answer?” He asked, guiding you by your elbow and leading you away from the burning car.

“Yeah, or well—someone did,” you said back, “Did you kill the guys?”

Billy nodded, eyes facing forward. “One was already dead. I killed the other two.” He glanced down at you, watching you for any signs of shock or disapproval; he didn’t find any. “So,” he said, hand still on your elbow, “back there, you were… That was impressive.”

“What? My driving?”

“Yeah. I’d seen surveillance photos of you that Homeland had,” he grinned, “but seeing you in action was… You got skills.”

You grinned back. “Thanks.”

“So where’d you learn to drive like that?” He asked.

You shrugged. “I kind of just taught myself,” you answered, “My parents died when I was young, and I kind of hopped around in the system for a few years…”

Billy was staring at you. “You grew up in the system?”

“Till I was adopted. Why?”

He looked away. “My mother abandoned me when I was an infant,” he said, his voice carefully casual, “Left me on the steps of a church.” You could feel his hand on your arm, firm and heavy. “I grew up in the system, bounced around from group home to group home till I aged out.”

You blinked. “You never… You were never adopted? Your mom never came back?”

“Nah,” he shrugged, his hand falling from your elbow, “I used to think maybe she’d come back for me, but that shit is for the story books…” He turned back to you. “But I guess the story came true for you, huh? Adoption? How was that?”

You scoffed. “C’mon man, I know you read my file…”

He stopped, and you stopped with him. “I saw that Yakavetta was listed as your father, but I thought that was some kind of insurance ploy you guys came up with as a scam… He adopted you?”

“Uh huh,” you felt strangely nervous, so you reached down and took Billy’s hand in yours, leading him forward, “Ronnie, too. It was a scam, just not for insurance,” you explained, “Joe wanted complete control over us. He’s…” You took a breath, thinking of that last night you’d been with Joe and Ronnie. “He killed my brother,” you said, eyes glazed over, “I never thought of Joe as a father figure, but Ronnie was my brother. And now he’s dead.” You blinked, looking up at Billy. “You never looked for your mother?”

Billy gave a humorless laugh. “That—I… Usually, when people ask me that, I lie,” he said, looking over at you, “But I don’t… Shit, I don’t know why, but I don’t want to lie to you.” He squeezed your hand in yours. “I found her when I was 15,” he told you, “She was a drug addict, and she said she wanted me to have a better life…” He shook his head, laughing again. “She’s in a facility now,” he went on, “They say she’s got a ‘nother few years left in her.”

“And your father?”

“Who knows? Ma was so cracked out, she has no idea who my sperm donor was,” he said back. “What about you? What were your parents like?”

Things went on like that for what felt like hours; you and Billy playing your own version of 20 questions while you walked. You told Billy about your parents and the heists you’d done with Ronnie and Joe and the crew, and he told you about his time in the Marines.

“That’s where me and Frank met,” he said, his hand still in yours, “We were both born to be soldiers.” He stopped, dropping his hand.

“What?” You asked.

“We’re here,” Billy leaned against a boulder.

You looked around, you were in a clearing, surrounded by miles and miles of nothing peppered with a few small bushes, boulders, and trees. “Where’s here?”

“This is the location we sent Frank,” he answered, crossing his arms, “I gotta ask you somethin’…”

“Okay…”

“This… I just…” He sighed, starting over. “This shit with Yakavetta is deeper than I thought, and I don’t believe in fate or anything like that, but you gotta admit… You being involved in this can’t just be a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yakavetta’s file is long,” he said, “and I’ve gone through it about 100 times. It looks like he’s been flirting with the mob, and I know a guy who specializes in that world.”

“Frank,” you supplied.

He grinned. “Yeah. It’s just… I don’t know you at all,” he said, “but it feels like I do. It’s ridiculous.”

You laughed, going to stand next to Billy with your back against the rock. “I know what you mean.” You looked up at him, he was bloody and sweaty and still looked appealing to you. You felt a strange sense of comfort by his proximity, and you had to admit—Billy checked a lot of your boxes without you even knowing you had boxes to check. “Can I ask you something? Like… For real?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you stop calling?” You pushed off of the rock and faced him. “I’m not… It’s fine, I just… I always wondered.”

Billy sucked in a breath. He put a hand through his hair. “It’s not because I didn’t enjoy… what we did,” he started.

“Oh, yeah,” you grinned, “I know that.”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I, uh…” He looked up at you, those dark eyes shining. “My business—this business,” he clarified, “had been a dream of mine for a long time. But dreams cost money,” he shrugged, “Charm, courage, skills—those things I had, but money? Nah. So I made an arrangement with this rich asshole I met in active duty, did some things that were…”

“Illegal?” You guessed.

He nodded. “Yeah. Spilled a lot of blood in the pursuit of the American dream,” he answered, “And he paid well. By the time me and you started hooking up, I was almost paid up. Then one day he called, had one last job that would settle the debt and I…” He looked down, self-disgust and raw anger clear in his face. “I had to go running when he called.” He looked back up at you, and you had the feeling that this was the most honest Billy had ever been with another person in a long, long time. “I never meant to be away for so long, and by the time I came back…”

“…I was gone,” you finished.

Billy stepped over to you, moving slowly. He moved as if he thought you’d move away from him, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You watched as he raised his hand and put it on your face, his deep eyes staring into yours. “Where did you go?”

“A job,” you answered, “Joe called and I…”

“…had to go running,” Billy’s lip twitched upwards, “Yeah…”

“When you took this job,” you said, hands going to wrap around his middle, “you said it was because it was personal. When I left…did you miss me?”

He nodded. “I didn’t want to,” he admitted, “I didn’t understand why I did, but I did. I missed you.” His hands dropped to your waist. “Did you miss me?”

Fuck—what a question. “Yes,” you breathed out.

Billy leaned down and kissed you, and you kissed him back. You were being tracked down by Joe, there were dead bodies only a few miles back, you were virtually helpless, but you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch. Billy gripped you tight, and you did the same to him. He pulled back; you were grinning—

—but he was not.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, stepping back. He glanced behind him, and you saw dust billowing up in the distance.

“What’s going on—”

“It’s Frank,” he assured you, not at all concerned, “Just—listen…” Billy ran his fingers through his hair again, a nervous habit that was starting to make you nervous. “I—in your file, in Joe’s file, there was… Someone on your crew…” He stepped back again, and you frowned. “Homeland had an informant. Madani was getting information in exchange for immunity—from your brother.”

Your eyes widened. Ronnie. You felt tears prick in your eyes, but you blinked them away as the sound of the approaching car got louder.

“Y/N…” Billy said.

You shook your head, moving past him to watch the car pull up. You watched, detached and cold all over, as a black van pulled forward. You heard Billy behind you, gathering the duffel bags, and you watched as a man got out of the van. Your jaw dropped.

“Is that the fucking Punisher?” You asked, gawking.

“He goes by Frank,” Billy deadpanned, standing beside you now.

“What the hell’s going on here, Bill?” Frank asked, lumbering over. “Who’s she?”

“This is Y/N,” he answered, walking over and shaking up with the freaking Punisher, “she’s my client.”

You scoffed, and both men turned to you, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah,” you said, walking over to the car, “I’m the client. Nice to meet you.”

Billy and Frank exchanged a glance behind your back but said nothing. The three of you piled into the van, and Billy caught Frank up on what was going on—Homeland, the mole, how your life was in danger.

“Wait,” Frank said, turning the wheel, “What’s this guy’s name again? The one Madani’s so hot for?”

“Joe Yakavetta,” Billy answered, “You know him?”

Frank’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, I know him. He’s on Rawlins’ payroll. Yakavetta leads to Rawlins.”

You could see the tension in both men’s shoulders from the back seat, and you leaned forward. “Who’s Rawlins?” You asked.

Frank glanced at you, then at Billy before looking back at the road. “It’s a long story,” he said, his voice gruff.

“He’s the one I owed the debt to,” Billy said, and you could tell there was much more to the story. So much for being honest.

“I got a warehouse,” Frank informed you, “We can regroup there, dress your wounds,” he said, nodding over at Billy, “Figure out what to do next.” He glanced back at you again. “Madani know you’re with me?”

You looked at the back of Billy’s head, unsure.

“Nah,” Billy answered, “Homeland can’t be trusted. I sent Madani an SOS, but stopped all communication from there.”

“Madani’s on the up-and-up,” Frank pointed out, “but I agree it’s best to keep this contained. I put in a call to Micro.”

Billy groaned.

“Who’s Micro?” You asked. “Or… what’s Micro?”

“What is a good question,” Frank said, smirking, “He’s my tech guy.”

“He’s a fucking weirdo,” Billy sighed.

You sat back, hands in your lap, and listened as the two men talked about Micro and warehouses and shit you didn’t understand. You felt numb, but the numbness kept being interrupted by random shock of pain in your chest, and it was like you could see and feel 100 things at once. You saw Ronnie, heard his laugh, saw his blood, red and slick on your hand while at the same time seeing Khalil’s wide eyes and hopeful smile, and Joe’s cold, critical eyes. You could feel Billy’s hands on you, could feel the soft firmness of his lips ghosting over your skin, heard the way he said your name when he was inside of you all while feeling the way your chest had tightened the day he stopped answering your calls. You sat there, feeling everything and nothing all at once, until Frank pulled the car into an underground garage. You got out, avoiding making eye contact with Billy, and followed them into the warehouse, as Frank had described it.

His description was spot on.

The warehouse was, at best, a spacious wasteland. There were a few chairs, a table, and lots and lots of guns and computers, but not much else.

“I forgot how depressing this place is,” Billy mumbled, tossing your bags in a corner.

“It ain’t no penthouse,” Frank agreed, “but it does the trick.”

“Is the trick claustrophobia?” Billy deadpanned. He was watching you; you could feel his eyes on you, but you were busy staring up at the many monitors on the wall.

“What’s all this?” You asked, eyes darting from one screen to another.

“Surveillance,” Frank said simply.

“That’s Anvil,” Billy was next to you now, and he pointed at a screen on the far left. There were men and women training with about five people supervising. The space looked impressive, you had to admit.

Frank disappeared somewhere, but you heard his low, gruff voice and assumed he was on the phone. You didn’t look at Billy, just stared at the screen. “Nice,” you said, referring to Anvil.

“Hey,” Billy said, “listen… Your brother, he… He was doing what he thought was best—”

“How would you know?” You asked, turning to him, eyes narrowed. “You read it in his file?”

“Actually,” Billy turned, going over to the bags and unzipping his, “I did.” He pulled out a manilla folder and held it out to you. “Here.”

You walked over and took it. “What is this?”

“Ronnie’s file,” Billy answered, “and Joe’s. And yours.” He stepped back. “You should read it.”

You looked down at the files in your hands, and suddenly you were afraid. What would you find out? What else hadn’t you known about your brother?

“It might help,” Billy went on, “There are things in there… Homeland—Madani—knew more than she let on, and I should have…” He sighed. “Just… Read it,” he said, walking off, “please.”

You sat down at the table, moving a few sandwich wrappers and bullet packs out of the way. You started with Ronnie’s file, eyes moving over the text greedily. He’d been reporting to Homeland for over 6 months—how had you not known? And more importantly—why hadn’t he told you? And what was his plan? Once he was granted immunity, would he visit you in jail? Was he concerned about Jamal and Justin and Khalil and Alex? Didn’t he care about any of you? You flipped the page, feeling your heart constrict as you read on. He’d reported to Stein, who you knew for a fact reported to Madani. She’d known about Ronnie, who he was, way before she waltzed into that police station to “save” you. He’d trusted her—a stranger, a cop—more than he’d trusted you, and man… That shit hurt. You turned to the next page, ready to throw each and every piece of paper to the ground, when you stopped.

Ronnie’s contact with Homeland was there, that scrawl that he called a signature scribbled on the bottom, and oh…

There were contingencies to the agreement, things Ronnie required before he gave Homeland even one piece of information—

—immunity for you and leniency for the others.

Your eyes filled with tears, and suddenly, you were crying. Ronnie did everything he could to protect you and the guys, there was nothing in the contract about himself, nothing to benefit him—just a guarantee that no legal action would be taken against his sister. The tears fell silently, and you covered your face with your hands. Ronnie was the only good thing you’d ever had in your life, the only person who never left you, and he did everything for you. And now he was gone.

You were all alone.

“There was nothing in the world more important to your brother,” Billy said, his voice low behind you, “than you.”

You nodded, back still to him. You couldn’t speak, and even if you could—you didn’t know what to say. The grief and anger and sorrow were just too much. You closed your eyes, shuddering, when you felt Billy’s hands on you. He pulled you, gently, from your seat, and turned you around to face him. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around you, and you let him. You sank into his chest, crying and shaking, and let him hold you. It was like you were floating in a cloud of emotions, and he was your anchor, keeping you level.

“Did you read the other files?” He asked.

You shook your head.

“Madani’s notes say that it was likely Yakavetta knew that Ronnie was working for Homeland,” he said, “but they didn’t pull him—or you. They wanted more info before they made good on his contract.”

You looked up at him, eyes wet with tears. “Madani knew?”

“Possibly. It’s like I said before, Homeland doesn’t care about protecting you or Ronnie or any of their witnesses—they care about making a case.” Billy reached up and wiped your tears, his hand warm on your face. “But I care about you,” he clarified, “I didn’t want to, but I do. And I swear, Y/N, I will protect you.”

That brought a new batch of tears to your eyes, and you leaned into Billy’s touch, suddenly desperate for it.

“Billy—” Frank’s voice broke through the tension, and you and Billy stepped away from each other.  You dabbed at your eyes, wiping away the rest of your tears. “Micro’s on his way. He says Yakavetta’s been scooped up by Rawlins and they’re heading to his compound.” His eyes were wide and wild. “It’s time to make a move.”

Billy nodded. “So it’s true, they’re working together. This speeds up the timeline.”

“Yeah it does,” Frank went to the table and grabbed a gun that looked like it belonged in a video game, “And adds some new bodies to the deadpool.”

“Joe’s probably got his own security?” Billy asked you.

You nodded. “Knowing him, he’s got a new crew too: tech guy, gunner, driver—he likes to have a full deck.”

“We’re gonna have to revamp our plan here,” Frank grunted. He looked over at you. “You any good with one of these?” He asked, lifting up the gun.

“I can shoot, if that’s what you’re asking,” you answered.

“She’s not coming with us,” Billy interjected, “she’s staying here.”

“What? Like hell I am—”

“You’ve got a target on your back, and we’re going up against an unknown number of guns. You’re staying here where it’s safe.”

“Hell no! I’ve got a target on my back; I need to be in the action!” You glanced at Frank, but he was busying himself with looking through your/Billy’s files. “Billy, Joe is after me. I can’t just keep hiding—I need to face him head on!”

“You need to stay here,” Billy shot back, “I’m not asking for your opinion, Y/N.”

You stepped up to him, glaring up at him with tears still wet on your eyelashes. “And I’m not asking your permission, Russo.”

Billy glared down at you, but you could see a spark in his eyes. You felt it too: that uncontrollable, completely irrational want that bloomed within you whenever you were close to him, or even thinking about him. He opened his mouth to say something—that mouth that you wanted to kiss—but closed it when Frank spoke up.

“We could use her help, Bill,” he said, waving your file in the air, “She’s got skills.”

“Thank you,” you sighed.

“Micro’s pulling up,” Billy said, turning away from you. Frank, grinning, walked off to receive his friend. Billy glanced back at you. “This conversation isn’t over,” he said, turning and following Frank.

You grinned. “I dunno, man,” you called after him, “Feels over to me!” You turned back to the monitors, triumph, and looked up at them—

—only to find them glitching, the images distorted and twitching. You turned again, about to shout for Billy or Frank, but stopped…

…there was a red dot on the middle of your chest.

*******************************************************************************************

OOOOOOOH, somebody’s bought to get SHOT! Thanks for reading!

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#billy russo #Billy Russo x reader #billy russo imagine #helpless fic #helpless series

[lovesickslasherapples]

hey may I request the slasher bois with an s/o who is a night owl who loves the darkness and can actually see in the dark thanks ❤

Sure! I’m a night owl myself 😅

So this should be interesting

((Okay edit...I’m so sorry I didn’t view it correctly after I finished writing it I had re read the ask and I was like 👀🤦‍♀️)) ((I hope you like this! Then again super sorry I’ll re write what you asked for and tag you on there))

Basically how I wrote reader was they were used to it kinda like they already been a night owl since young and got used to the darkness.

So sorry for that I still hope you enjoy!

Michael Myers

All the lights were on in the house for what reason no one knows but that didn’t seem to matter at the moment as the two of you basically devoured one another on the couch. Michael on top running his hand down your thigh as you two continued to kiss one another.

He gave a hard squeeze to your ass causing you to squeak. He smirked at your reaction something about it drove him nuts. Him having full power over you made him feel powerful and he loved it!

He wanted to hear you scream out his name as come undone by him. Just the thought had him really going. His hand thraveled to the waist band of your pants only to stop as the lights went out.

Michael grunted. How dare the lights just ruin his fun and right when the good parts were about to begin. Now it was pitch black not a single source of light to be seen. He doubted you could see as there was nothing happening but he missed the smirk on your face as you could clearly see him.

“Aweeee..don’t tell me we’re finished now Mikey~”He looked at you wide eyed till he glared hearing that nickname. He growled felt you over not sure how you could see him. You smirked pushing him down on the couch straddling him. Michael didn’t like this new side of you or better yet the dominance you had over him.

Even though he couldn’t see you-you could see him and if looks could kill you’d be dead by now.

The darkness never fails you.

Jason voorhees

It had been a normal day in the cabin lanterns lighting up the house in different corners of the cabin. You smiled as you cuddled up to Jason as y’all enjoyed reading a historical book. “You know this actually happened in real life!”

Jason looked at you before nodding he knew about the Alamo as his mom always educated him about the wars and other things that happened back then. You reminded him of this momma so sweet and kind never judging him for his looks or the fact that he murders teenagers that come around.

The winds started to pick up and blow the tiny fire that was in the little tube only source of keeping it alive. You shivered as Jason put his arm around you protectively and to keep you from getting cold. Jason himself was a bit cold but the jacket brought some warmth.

As the winds blew harder the lanterns started to go out one by one like in a horror film. Jason tightened his arm around you before you spoke up. “Jay..I need to turn the laterns back on”You said as Jason shook his head not sure if you even saw it. You chuckled before reassuring him you’d be fine plus you knew the cabin like Jason knew the camp grounds and woods.

As you got up you head towards some of the laterns turning only a few of them on bring some light source as you heard a thund behind you. You turned around only to see Jason on the floor with a knocked down machete and a few trinkets that were on shelves.

You laughed to yourself before helpping him up.

“I said I’d be okay..I can see you know”You said crossing your arms. Jason tilted his head not sure how someone can see in pitch blackness but wasn’t gonna question you. He believes you.

Freddy Kruger

You sighed coming home and face planting on the couch throwing your purse in the process on the floor. You sighed as today had been stressful at you work today. A few rude comstumers and then your co worker just plain messing with you for who knows what.

Today just wasn’t your day.

You didn’t feel your self falling into the bliss of sleep as it was then plitch black and at the moment you didn’t care it was sort of peaceful. Nothing to bother you or so you thought..

Then there was a sudden laugher “well we’ll well what do we have here..”He said in this very low demonic voice. You looked around and it was as if you just woken up but you were in a boiler room filed with pipes.

“Hello?”You said as you looked around in confusion it wasn’t exactly dark but it was more or less dem. You looked around for the owner of that voice only to see shadows go by. “Hahahahahaha!!”

The voice laugh as you turned to you right to see a man in the shadows he was wearing a stripped sweater with long brownish pants with a gloved filled with knives. His hat tipped slightly his skin burned.

“Why are you standing in the shadows?”You said as he sorta of froze before smriking and appeared right in front of you. “Good eye there sweat cheeks~”

Billy Loomis (Ghostface)

Nothing better than watching a scary movie right? Wrong.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Uhmm..imma have to go with Scream..the first one”

The caller on the other end laughed agreeing it was a great movie. “Let’s play a game..”

You smiled as you sat down on the couch “What game?”You asked as the twirled your hand with the phone wire. The caller laughed before saying it was a horror movie quiz.

“Quiz huh?”

“What? I thought you liked horror movies”

“I do..I do”you said smiling waiting for the game to begin looking out the window as it was pitch black out there. You couldn’t help but notice that a man or shadow with a white mask like ghostface was outside moving around circleing your house.

“That wouldn’t happen to be you outside?”You said knowing horror movies all too well to be fooled. The caller froze. Not expecting you to notice him..he was ghostface the most stealthy.

“What?”

You laughed “I saw you..”

Billy smirked this was going to be interesting.

Bubba sawyer

Bubba was doing the regular helping draytom doing chores as Chop Top kept you company. “Y-Yea did ya hear that song they play on the r-radio today”He said as you knew what they were talking about. Stretch.

She was one of the radio people that work at the radio station. As much as you tried not to get jealous you just couldn’t help but feel that way. Bubba always had show his affection towards you but when stretch came on the radio he was lost in another world. “Yea I did”You said swinging your legs as you listened to chop top as he used his hanger to scratch his head.

“Me and Bubba had went to go see er today”He said as he moved around and danced with nubbins. “Oh yea?”You said trying to give your best smile. Chop top nodded before slowly walking towards you.

“You aren’t jealous are ya?”He said getting a little too close for comfort. “N-no..why would I be jealous”You said as you crossed your arms. Chop top smiled before jumping around repeating the words. “Your jealous.”

You rolled your eyes and couldn’t help but notice bubba staring at the radio. This made you frown. You sighed before jumping down from your high point and taking a walk threw the tunnels. This place sorta creeped you out but luckily the Christmas lights kept the place lit up. Or so you thought.

All of a sudden the lights flickered before completely shutting off. You looked around before shrugging and continued forward. The darkness was no match for you tbh...you could see just fine and the fact that the darkness kept you calm.

As you continued walking you heard worried squeals coming from behind you. You knew those squeals belonged to Bubba. “Bubba?”You questioned stopping in your tracks as you heard some bones falling down as bubba tried to find you in He darkness. You sighed and walked towards him “Hey..”You said grabbing his arm as he hurried turned around embracing you in a hug.

Bubba made sad sounds of which almost sounded like an apology. “You don’t need to be sorry Bubs..”you said running your hands threw his hair.

All of a sudden the lights finally came back on a reliefs sigh came from bubba. “I would have been okay..I could see”You said smiling as bubba did that cute head tilt his tongue slightly coming out. “Besides..I thought you would have still been listening to Stretch...”You said as bubba looked at the You confused.

“The lady on the radio”You said plainly but sadly.

Bubba rapidly shook his head making a few sounds as he hugged you before making a heart shape with his hands and pointing to you. He didn’t get it much but he knew what you meant. He couldn’t love anyone else but you. You smiled and kissed his cheek “Thank you bubba..I love you too.”

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas and you had been working all day doing chores around the house and out in yard. Though these chores were intrupped by loud thunder and a few bright strikes of lightning. Luda Mae had already called y’all inside not wanting y’all to catch a cold.

Thunder storms were rare here..since it was always hot!!

Even though it was raining Luda Mae still passed out some cold Sweet iced tea. “Here ya go..drink up”She said as she handed everyone a glass. Monty and Hoyt were complaining about how chores didn’t get done but that didn’t last long before Luda Mae got on to them about the storm.

“It’s rainin outside! Now would boys hush!”She yelled in her country accent and not seconds later the power went out. “Great..”Said Monty as he looked around only to see nothing but darkness.

Everyone was looking around not knowing what to day but that wasn’t a problem for you though. “I’ll go turn the power back on”you said as everyone turned to your voice. “It’s pitch black..how in the heavens can you see”Luda Mae said as you shrugged “I’m just used to it”You said as you heard a sigh.

“Fine..but thomas goes with you I don’t want you running into things in the basement”She said as you nodded even though she couldn’t see you. “I think I should go too”Said Monty moving his wheel chair forward running over Hoyt’s foot. “Ow!! Dammit Monty!!”He Yelled as he dropped the glass cup shattering it.

“Hoyt!!”Luda Mae Yelled as she heard the glass shattered. You looked back before going into the kitchen to get the broom.

You swept up all the glass as everyone argued and threw it away as well as grabbing Thomas’s hand taking him with you to the basement. Tbh you don’t know why she had him go down there with you..he couldn’t see either.

Well you weren’t complaining..it was scary down here anyways. Once you found the breaker you flipped a few switches and the boom! The power was back on.

Thomas looked at you and you smiled at him “What?”You said as Thomas just shook his head. You chuckled before taking his hand again and taking him upstairs. Thomas had to admit he was a bit surprised you could in the darkness. The whole house was dark and yet you were the only one who could see now that impressed him..made him fall for you even more.

“Where’s the damn glass?!”Yelled Luda Mae with her hands on her hips. “I don’t know! It just vanished!”Yelled Hoyt throwing his hands in fustration. They kept agruing before hearing both yours and Thomas’s foot steps.

“Don’t worry I cleaned it”You said as everyone fell silent. “You couldn’t see in pitch black..”said Hoyt not believing it. You nodded your head as you told him to look in the trash. He tipped his hat before going to go take a look.

“Well I’d been damned”he said as he came back now seeing evidence since to him seeing is believing. Thomas Hugged you from behind as you smiled and leaned back into him. “Get a room”Said Hoyt as monty also commented only for them to get shushed by Luda Mae.

Chucky

It was a normal day in your apartment fixing some lunch for yourself and you sisters kid that you just so happended to be watching for her as she went out.

“You almost done!”Yelled Lucy as she held her good guy doll close to her watching the good guy commercial. You sighed and rolled your eyes “Yeeesss”You said trying not to get annoyed you didn’t mind watching for you sister but her child was a hand full.

As you cut the sandwich’s in half you made your way to Lucy who was sitting on the couch with her pink skirt and white shirt with a little cardigan. “Finally!”She says as he puts her good guy down and grabs the plate.

You watched as she ate before deciding to take a bit out of yours. “Hi I’m chucky! Wanna play?”

This caused you to stop as her good guy doll spoke out of nowhere. “Do they always do that?”You asked as Lucy looked at you . “Do what?”She said as she finished her first sandwich half. “Talk..out of nowhere”You said taking a bit out of your sandwich.

Lucy shrugged “I guess”She said as you furrowed you eyebrows staring at the doll. “Don’t stare! It’s not nice to stare! He doesn’t like it.”She yelled grabbing her good guy doll making a pouty face. “Who doesn’t like it?”

“Chucky”She said as she put the doll close to her ear acting as if he was talking to her. She then pulled him away saying that wasn’t nice and that’s a mean word to say. “Did chucky day something?” You asked as she looked at you.

“He said to keep your fucking mouth shut if you know what’s good for you”

“Lucy! That’s not nice!”

“I didn’t say it! Chucky did!”she said making you look at the doll. He was smiling having this creepy look to him. You sigh before taking Lucy to bed. As you tucked her in she held onto her good guy doll tightly telling him good night making you frown and question her.

As you left leaving the door open just a crack you walked down the hall that was nothing but complete darkness. You couldn’t help but feel that your being watched and hear little foot steps. You turn around to see nothing there as your eyes adjust to the darkness. “Lucy?” You said as you heard nothing and decided to speed walk where you see light in the living room.

All of a sudden you could hear running foot steps coming from behind you making stop for an unknown reason. “AAAAAAAAH”

You screamed as you saw Lucy’s good guy doll running straight towards you with a knife. “Get...AWAY!”You Yelled as you kicked him sending him flying.

“What the hell?!”he yelled as he didn’t expect you to see him. Sure you heard him but see him no..

“Damn..didn’t expect that”He said as you had already ran and turned on the lights facing him.

“The names chucky...but lady’s call me Charles”He said smirking. You stood there not knowing what to say. He snorted “what’s wrong..cat got your tongue”He teased.

It was true..cat really did have your tongue but at the moment you were lucky to be alive!

Slasherapples

[willow-salix]

Day 98 of Isolation on Tracy Island and no one is moving today, well, me, Virgil and Alan are fine physically but we are being lazy and hanging out on the couches with the rest of the ones that had attempted to hula hoop. The thing with hooping is that it takes weeks to toughen up your skin and muscles to cope with such a pounding as they will get from 2kilos of hoop slamming into them over and over at speed, I’d warned them, they hadn’t listened. Them of the rock hard abs had thought they had it covered, now they are regretting being so cocky and are laying around groaning every time they try to move.

We were laying there like sloths refusing to move (yes, John is wearing his rodeo shirt and I am wearing my hideous T-shirt and no, neither of us are complaining because we are adults) me because I had no real reason to need to move and I’d much rather lay there and veg than actually deal with moving and them because they were hurting.

They were all lying around in various poses of ouch, Scott was draped artfully in one of the bucket seats, looking relaxed but I knew the real reason was because the curved back was actually helping him get in and out of it, he had his tablet with him and was apparently catching up on some admin, but I know him and I know the look on his face and it definitely wasn't paperwork he was looking at. My money would be on him watching a movie with the subtitles on.

Alan was playing a hand held video game with Gordon, Virgil was tinkling on the piano working on a new composition which was actually a fascinating process to watch, he’d hum a little, plink out a few notes, hum again, play with a little variation and then write it down.

John was stretched out on the couch, his back resting against my chest because apparently I'm comfier and I was being nice by rubbing his abused stomach soothingly. I had stolen my ipod back from Scott and had my headphones on and was seriously vibing, totally chilled out and just loving life when the comm on Jeff’s desk beeped.

I allowed John to sit up from his prone position stretched across my lap and helped drag him to his feet when he couldn’t get his abdominals to obey his commands.

“Not so fun when it’s happening to you, is it,” Virgil laughed, earning himself a level 4 John glare, patent pending. But Space man was still lighter on his feet than the lumbering elephant Virgil had been doing an impression of and was soon easing gently into the desk chair.

“Yes EOS? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I believe so,” she answered.

“Then is there something I can help with?”

“I think we have another one of those calls, but I’m not sure so I thought you should listen first.”

John rolled his eyes and Scott groaned.

“Put it through then, thanks, EOS.”

“Hello?” a young sounding voice spoke over the comms.

“This is International Rescue, how may we be of assistance today?” John asked, immediately slipping into his calm, capable work tone.

“Hello,” the sound of a muffled giggle could be heard somewhere in the background and John lifted his hand to cut the call. I jumped into action, slashing my hand at him in a ‘don’t you dare’ gesture. We were all bored, but I had an idea of how to make it better.

I sat down on the edge of the desk and made a continue motion with my hand.

“Can I have your name, caller?”

“Erm...name?”

“Yes, it’s standard procedure.”

“My...my name's Yuri,” another muffled giggle. “Yuri Nator.”

Alan and Gordon snorted with laugher, although Scott didn't look impressed and neither did John, Virgil just looked resigned to the fact that all teenagers were idiots. I could understand that one.

I gestured for him to let me take over and launched into my best impression of Janine from Ghostbusters.

“International Rescue, what do you want?”

This time even Scott sniggered. John, being John, lent back in his chair and let me work my magic, he’d seen this happen far too many times.

“So, Mr Nator, can you tell me a bit about your situation?” I continued.

“Well, I’m trapped.”

“Trapped, OK let me just pull up my forms for trapped citizens,” I paused for a few seconds then continued. “On a scale of one to ten how trapped would you say you are?”

“How trapped?”

“It’s not a hard question, how trapped are we talking? Have you just got a smashed ankle or have you lost your whole leg? Have you had to gnaw off any of your own limbs? Come on kid, time is money, you know we charge by the minute, right? This is going on your phone bill.”

“Trapped erm...maybe a five?”

“Five, alright, now where are you trapped on a scale of one to ten, one being you tripped over a hole in the sidewalk and a twig landed on you and ten being you are currently held hostage under the sea by three mermaids and a whale?”

Gordon buried his face in a pillow to stop his laughter carrying across the room.

“Maybe a three?”

“Three, alright, trapped down a well, got it. Now, do you have any friends or relatives with you?”

“No, I’m alone,” frantic whispering was heard over the line.

“Totally alone, OK, I’ll add Billy no mates to your record, nearly done, just a few more questions before I pass you over to the relevant department head. Now, can you tell me if you are wearing pants or shorts today, please?”

“Erm...pants.”

“Has wet his pants, added to your case file. Now, Yuri Nator with the wet pants, can you please confirm your location?”

“I’m..not sure?”

“Tracing your calls to find your location I’ll add lost idiot to your file, transferring you now and thank you for using International Rescue as your rescuing service today.” I beckoned Gordon over and I swear I’ve never seen him move so fast, even with his sore tummy, although he had to take a deep breath before talking.

“Hey, this is the water rescue department, how may I help you today?”

“Erm...nothing, I’m fine. All good here.”

“My file says that you are a Yuri Nator and have wet your pants because you were scared when you fell down a well. Is that correct? Can I just ask you if Timmy is down there with you?”

“Timmy? I don’t think so, I don’t know anyone named Timmy.”

“No Timmy, check. Any Lassie’s? Because if there is a Lassie I’m afraid that is out of our jurisdiction and we’ll have to pass this case over to animal control.”

“No Lassie.”

“No Lassie, good to hear, you’d really know you’re in trouble if they bring out the big dogs.”

“Dogs?”

“Yep, dogs. Now, the problem we’re going to have is that being in a well, it’s going to be a bit too snug to maneuver Thunderbird Four down there, so we’re going to have to come up with an alternative plan. I’m going to pass you over to our logistics department to follow up on your case. Have a great day, don’t let the well piranhas bite you too hard, that will invalidate your rescuers insurance. Thanks for using us as your rescuers today.”

Gordon handed the call over to Scott, who took it on his comm, not wanting to move from his comfy spot.

“Logistics department,” Scott barked out in his toughest commander voice, the one that every one of his younger brothers knew meant big trouble. “I’m going to ask you some questions, you just have to say yes or no, got it?”

There was silence on the other end of the call.

“I asked you a question, do you understand me?”

There was a rattling sound as the phone was passed around a few times and then went dead.

John hit a button and called the number back.

“Hello?” a different voice answered.

“We know where you are, we know where you live, we know where this phone is registered, we are sending help to your location. We were told that you are trapped and as animal control is not involved we will be continuing our attempt to rescue you,” John informed him, just managing to hold in a laugh until Scott took over again.

"Logistics, do you have a basic education? Yes or no?"

"Yes?"

"You don't sound so sure of that. Do you have any plans to attend college?"

"Maybe?"

"Useless layabout, got it. Have you ever thrown up on a ride?"

"N-no…"

"The truth, now!"

"Yes."

"Adding will blow chunks to your case file. Have you tried to get yourself out of your situation?"

"No."

"Not very resourceful, got it. Now, how did you get into your current situation, did you trip, fall while looking or were you pushed?"

"I...tri- no I fell in."

"Adding clumsy idiot to your file, passing you over to the next department."

Virgil grinned as he took over.

“This is the International Rescue land rescue department, I'm the ground control operator,” he told them as Alan came and sat down beside him on the piano stool.

“We’ve been told that you are trapped down a well and that a water rescue is not possible so we need to determine if we can attempt a land rescue,” he continued in his most pleasant voice.

“Land rescue?”

“But the problem with a land rescue is that we’d have to drill down under the foundations of the well and try to break through its outer core, there is a number of risks involved in this, including drowning, crushing, cave in, impaling with a large drill and suffocation as the air is sucked out. Can we just ask which would be your preferred risk to take?”

“Risk?” the voice on the phone sounded even younger and now completely terrified.

“There’s always risks involved, kid. Do I take it that none of these options appeal to you?”

“N-no they don’t.”

“Then I have no choice but to pass you on to our space department. Have a nice rescue.”

“Space department here, how may I rescue you today?” Alan joined in, already enjoying himself.

“Space rescue? I’m not in space.”

“No, but you will be! Isn’t that cool?”

“I’ll be in space?”

“Yeah, the plan is to lower a rope down to you from Thunderbird Three. Then you’ll tie it around your waist, make sure you tie that sucker good and tight, we don’t want you coming undone half way up now, do we?”

“No?”

“That is correct. Also, remember not to hold your breath when you leave earth's atmosphere or your lungs will explode. Got it?”

“What? Explode?” the caller’s voice had taken on a fearfully high pitch.

“Uh oh, I can now confirm that we have added a code brown to the wet pants situation, Thunderbird Two. Caller, are you still there? We’ll be there to pick you up in an hour, be ready to see some stars!”

“No! I’m sorry, we lied, no one is in trouble, we’re sorry, we’re so sorry. Please don’t tell our moms or charge us for the call. We won’t do it again.”

“Tell your friends!” Alan chirped as John hung up the call.

We were silent for a second or two before we all burst out laughing, which led to many painful groans as sore stomachs protested. But it had certainly cheered us up.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #alan tracy #tracy island #tracy boys #isolation island #thunderbirds in isolation #isolation #social isolation

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Only For A Moment Ch. 47

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Canon violence, trauma, feels so many FEELINGS

A/N: Excuse me. I’m just sobbing in a corner. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS OVER. I started writing this a year and a half ago never imagining it would be what it is. I’ve made dear friends through this fic (my tumblr wife @wonderlandmind4​ lookin’ at you bby, thank you for the love and support and betaing and everything). I’ve grown as a writer. So many thingssss. 

Thank you to EVERYONE who’s still reading, who’s been patient with the delays, who has reblogged and said kind things. You’re all amazing and my life would be a little darker without you in it sweet pumpkins! 

Come get in the feelings with me and these two characters one last time... (until Part 2 that is 😘)

Tags are open!

Steve paces another circuit around the back of the jet.

“Steve,” Natasha snaps, “just sit down for fuck’s sake.” 

“Extracting them shouldn’t be too hard,” Hill says eyes skimming schematics once more.

He tosses them both a sidelong glance before sitting, eyes fixed out the window. It wasn’t that he was worried about getting everyone out—with Natasha at his side neutralizing who they needed to in order to get to the team would be easy. 

No, the thought making him shift in his seat is who of them would even want to come…

Everything, every ounce of stability they had was gone because of him, because of the choices he made. He led them all into this fight and somehow he was the only one standing free and unharmed. It felt like failure. How could he blame any of them if they hated him for this? If they refused to stand with him now?

 Then there was you. 

Would you trust him without Bucky by his side? Believe him when he said Bucky was safe? Even after all that had happened… did he trust you?

“I’ll be taking us down in five,” Hill says. 

No more time to worry about any of that now. All he could do was try. 

Just as he suspected, they make quick work of quietly clearing the section of the vessel they need to. Before entering the block where the team is they both pause. 

“Do… do you think they’ll forgive me?” Natasha looks up at him in a rare moment of vulnerability. “For making the wrong call?” 

“We all made the right call for ourselves, Nat.” He forces a smile, “They know that.” If only he could make himself believe it. 

He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until he sees Sam’s smirk. 

“Took you long enough,” Sam quips. 

“Five days vacation not enough for you?” Steve asks, prying the cell door open. 

“Oh, it’s been five stars.” 

Natasha pulls Wanda’s cell open, helping her out, he feels his blood boil seeing her in that straitjacket. While she sees to freeing Wanda and Sam opens the other cells Steve steps to your cell and freezes. 

You’re strapped into a chair reminiscent of the one they held Bucky in, clearly unconscious. Before he can move to open the door Wanda’s red haze engulfs it, practically ripping the metal from the wall. She pushes past him, tearing the shackles from your arms and legs while her hands cup your face, fingers checking your pulse. 

“Thank god,” Wanda sighs out. 

“How is she?” Sam asks from behind Steve as he steps into the tight space.  

“Breathing. Her pulse feels strong.”

Sam opens one of your lids, but you don’t react. “They probably drugged her.” 

“Any time they tried to take Wanda or any of us elsewhere she stopped them,” Clint says, arms crossed. “They must have a small crew because rather than just take her and us they’d focus on her.” He’s right, that small crew was the only way they were able to get everyone out. 

Steve studies the dried blood from a place your lip had busted, your black eye, a painfully dark bruise on your cheekbone. He hears Bucky’s voice in his head, “She’s like you never knows when to just stay down.”

Whatever questions about trust, he had before are gone. You protected his team, his family when he couldn’t. 

“I’ve got her,” gently he lifts your pliant form in his arms, cradling you close. “Let’s get moving.”

“Y’all head on without me,” Clint says. 

“What?!” Natasha spins on him. 

He gives her a sad smile. “I can’t be on the lam, Nat.” Clint rests his hands on her shoulders. “You know I can’t put Laura and the kids through that.” She looks away before flinging her arms around his neck. 

“Same for me,” Scott says. “I got a daughter to think about.” The two men exchange a knowing look. 

Steve feels his chest tighten with guilt. “Are you both sure?”

“Yeah-” Clint shrugs- “besides, being stuck in close quarters for an indiscriminate amount of time with all of you? Think I’d prefer prison.” Natasha punches him in the chest playfully. 

“Look out for each other,” Clint says. 

“We will,” Sam says. Steve nods in agreement before leading them all to the jet and an uncertain future.

-

It feels like your body is being torn apart… No. It feels like a million imperceptible particles are trying to get in. You can feel the dust in the air, the fibers of the bandages on your chest, the tiny mites in the old mattress beneath you eating away. Even through the darkness of your closed lids, you perceive the unfamiliar room you’re in clearly; every piece of furniture, every corner, visible to your mind’s eye like a relief sculpture. 

Too much! Your brain screams as it tries desperately to process every bit of information slamming into it. 

Move, you have to move, come on Y/N! You try to open your eyes, move your hand, get a grip on your body. 

Finally, you break through, shooting from the bed, gasping for air. The salt in your own sweat feels like tiny needles running across your skin, the particles thundering into your lungs threatening to choke you. 

Gripping your skull you press yourself into a corner, trying to hold your head together as you feel the pain begin at the top of your spine spreading up. 

You didn’t know where you were or what the hell they did to you. The last thing you remembered was the sting of a needle before falling into blackness but you were pretty certain you were still on The Raft. This was a shit time for your brain to overload. 

Pushing your back into the solid wall you force a deep breath into your lungs. Think of anything else but the countless sensations bombarding your awareness. You think of Bucky—his smell, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, his gentle hands. 

Slowly the doors slam shut, damming the flow, allowing your tired mind to process simple things like the stale smell of the small room, the dim light, the worn carpet. 

“Y/N?” A tentative voice asks. You gasp a little, startled. 

“Oh,” Sam says softly. “I’m sorry. It’s ok.” He stops a few feet away holding his hands open in a non-threatening way. 

He crouches down, “Can you tell me what you’re seeing?”

“You?” You answer, confused. 

“Just me? In this bedroom?” 

You understand suddenly that he thinks you’re having a flashback. A small smile rises to your lips at his kindness and caution. 

“I’m good, Sam. I’m here.” You look around the room, “Where is, here, anyway?”

He stands, clearly more relaxed, and extends a hand to you. “Some small town in Switzerland.” You take it and let him help you up. 

“Bucky and Steve?”

Sam doesn’t meet your eyes, just turns for the door. “Steve and Natasha are doing a perimeter walk.”

“Sam,” you say, unmoving. He looks back at you, expression uncertain. Suddenly your stomach is in your knees, heart in your throat. The lamp on the table behind you begins to shake your fragile control wavering. 

He looks around the room as it shudders before answering. “All I know is he’s ok. You’ll have to talk to Steve when he gets back. But…” He sighs, “He’s not here.” 

He wasn’t dead, that was what mattered. But… you knew there were things almost as bad. Your power slides back into you, the room calm once more. Still, your chest is tight with worry. 

“Come on,” Sam nods at the door. “You’ve been out for almost two days, you’ve got to be starving.” As if in affirmation your stomach growls loudly. 

Sam leads you downstairs through what feels like the home of someone’s grandmother—maybe it was at some point—to a cozy kitchen. Two people you don’t know sit at the table, talking easily over steaming mugs. The man looks up at you with one good eye as you enter. 

“Y/N this is Nick Fury and Maria Hill.” 

“Just Fury,” the man says. He stands, hand extended. 

“Hill or Maria is fine,” the woman gives you a warm smile. You shake her hand as well, eying the man. 

“You were the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.” It wasn’t a question just a statement of fact, your tone flat and cold. You hadn’t wanted to get anywhere near the Hydra files but you had read enough in the aftermath of everything to know the name Nick Fury, to know that Hydra had existed just beneath the surface while he collected superheroes.

“I was.” He meets your stare, jaw set. 

The gurgle of a coffee pot breaks the tense silence. 

“Coffee open to anyone?” You ask no one in particular. 

“Yeah,” Sam answers. “Though maybe water would be best-”

“Maybe. But I’ve been denied caffeine for almost a week-” realizing how little time had passed made your head spin a bit- “it’s in everyone’s best interest for me to opt for the coffee.” Sam shakes his head but pours you a cup anyway. 

That first sip sings through your senses. Closing your eyes you breathe in the scent, imagining that you’ll open them and see your kitchen, Bucky at the table reading the paper, Billie or a brass band playing in the background. 

“Y/N!” Wanda stands in the doorway to the kitchen. 

“Hey,” you offer up as much of a smile as you can muster. 

“How… How are you feeling?” She asks, shifting from foot to foot.

“I’m ok.” 

She opens her mouth to say more but is cut off by Natasha and Steve entering through the back door. 

“Everything looks clear,” Natasha announces to the room. Her eyes sweep the space, landing on you. “Oh! You’re up. Good,” her smile is warm. 

You give her an acknowledging nod but look to Steve, desperate for answers that only he can give. He says nothing though, just focuses on slipping out of his jacket.

“Steve,” you say. It almost sounds like a greeting but your desperation is curled between every letter. His shoulders tense a bit. 

He finally meets your eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing hard. “Let’s talk. If you’re ready.” Not waiting for a response he walks from the kitchen, heading to the back of the house to a small office where a cot is set up in one corner. 

Steve tosses the jacket on the cot followed by his baseball cap. Sighing heavily he runs a hand through his hair. 

You can’t wait any longer. “Where is he?” Your voice cracks, hands white-knuckled around the mug, barely holding it together. 

His eyes are sad as he says, “He’s safe.” It should be relieving. It isn’t.

“That’s not good enough, Steve. Where is he?”

“Why don’t you-”

“I don’t want to fucking sit down-” the coffee in your cup swirls, the window rattles- “I want answers.” 

“I can’t tell you.” A book flies from the shelf behind you, landing with a resounding thud on the hardwood floor. Steve looks at it, raising an eyebrow. “I’m asking you to trust me, Y/N. He is safe and with people who are going to help him.” 

Your eyes narrow, “Help him how?”

Steve sighs, “He was hurt…” 

He explains everything that happened once he and Bucky left you all at the airport. At some point you drop onto the cot, hands shaking so much you have to set your coffee down. You hardly breathe as he tells you about Bucky’s arm, unable to imagine the pain he must have been in, aching that you weren’t there. 

“Where is he?” You growl out.

“Y/N, like I said-”

“No” —you shake your head—“Zemo.” Hatred burns cold throughout your body. 

You may want to rip Tony Stark’s own arm from his body but Zemo… You knew how to hurt someone just enough to not kill them. Already you’re imaging snapping small bones one by one, the muscles you can slowly shred, calculating just how long you can drag it out.

“Don’t go down that road.” Steve’s hands ball into fists, belying his own feelings. “Zemo is being handled.” He strides across the room, retrieving something from a pack. 

“Here,” he holds out an envelope with your name on the front in Bucky’s neat script. Your mouth goes dry. “I think it will help fill in the rest.” 

Steve sits in the desk chair, staring at his hands, as you slowly open the letter. 

Y/N,

There’s so much I want to say, so much I need to tell you, but the words just aren’t coming to me. I hope Steve has told you what he can about all that happened. Don’t be too upset with him about the blanks he can’t fill—some promises need to be kept. 

As for my decision… even he is struggling to make sense of that. 

I am so sorry I’m not there, wherever you are. I don’t think words exist that express how much I want you with me but—and I know you’re going to be furious with me for saying it—you aren’t safe with me right now. 

What happened in Berlin was one of my worst nightmares made real. The fact that someone would only need to mutter a few well-placed words and I could… Well, we both know what I could do. 

You are everything to me, Y/N. And the truth is I am not strong enough to live with the burden that I could put you in harm’s way. Especially not when I have a chance to remove that threat. 

The people here truly feel they can fix whatever Hydra broke in my head. I swear once they do nothing will keep me from you. If you’ll have me still that is. 

I hope you can forgive me… for everything. I hope you know the depth of my love for you. 

I will be dreaming of only you my darling. 

Yours always, 

Bucky

Futilely you try and stop the tears sneaking from the corners of your eyes by looking at the ceiling. Still, they come, flowing silently down your cheeks. 

How could he think for even a moment you wouldn’t have him? That you could ever begrudge him enough to not forgive him? You dig your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from sobbing, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Steve rolls the squeaky chair closer to you, covering your fist, resting on your thigh with his large hand. You look into his own pained face, blue eyes dark with emotion. 

“He loves you.”

You look away. Wherever he is he’s unconscious and alone and you cannot protect him. 

“As soon as I know anything I swear I will tell you,” Steve says giving your hand a squeeze. 

Time opens like a black hole in your mind. “Soon,” meant nothing. There was no telling how long it would take for them to figure out all the damage Hydra did, let alone fix it. The thought of going years without him shoots despair through your heart like a dagger. 

“Thank you,” Steve says. You look at him confused. 

“For what?”

“You looked out for them when I couldn’t. I-” He clears his throat, running a hand over his face. “Just thank you.” 

You shake your head, “You don’t have to thank me. It was the least I could do.” It’s his turn to be confused. 

“If it wasn’t for you, for all of you, I would truly have lost him.”

Steve cocks a crooked grin, “I only owe him a few hundred for saving my ass so many times.” 

You huff out a small laugh, “I’ve heard about a few of those.” 

His grin blooms into a full smile, “Oh? Should I be scared?” 

“Definitely.”

A knock at the door draws both your attention. Hill opens it popping her head in. 

“Sam made breakfast if you two want some.” 

“Thanks, Hill,” Steve says. Hill closes the door, the smell of bacon creeping in. 

“Food?” He asks. 

“God yes.” Tenderly you fold Bucky’s letter, tucking it into the pocket of the sweats you found yourself in. 

For a few awkward seconds, the two of you stand staring before you embrace each other so tight it’s almost hard to breathe. 

“You’re family now, you know that right?” 

And you do. Bucky was his family just as Nix had been yours. Even though your heart was broken, it felt good to have a family again. 

-

“Sam!” You call out into the house. “Did you use all the chili powder?” 

“What kind of monster do you take me for?” He hollers back. “It’s on the top shelf.” You have to float up a bit to find it, tucked behind the cinnamon Sam liked to sprinkle on his toast. 

He saunters into the kitchen. “What ya makin’?” 

“Chili and cornbread. Picked up some stuff for it while Hill and I were on recon yesterday.” 

“Good luck with this chili powder. Not sure how good it is.”

You open the container and smell it. “Seems ok.”

“Yeah but my ribs last week were off.” He plucks the container from you looking at it. 

Playfully you shoo him away. “Your ribs were excellent. Now get out of my kitchen.” It was the same thing he said every time it was his turn to cook. 

“Ok, ok!” 

You can’t help but smile as you fall into the familiar motions of chopping and sautéing. 

Most of your days were spent like this, with good people and good food—between you and Sam, no one in the house was going to go hungry. True, you often found yourself longing for the peace of the farmhouse or the cozy feel of your apartment; but you had forgotten how comforting it was to be in a space filled with chatter and warmth.

Each night it felt like you were lost at sea though, untethered without the reassurance and comfort of Bucky’s presence. Every morning starting with a cup of coffee and a desperate look to Steve that was always met with a subtle shake of his head. After a little more than a month it began to feel like your new normal--caffeine and heartbreak to kick off the day. 

Rather than wallow you buried yourself in as many daily tasks as you could. The old two-bedroom one-bath house was a tight fit with five of you which meant there were often things to clean, cook, or fix. 

A few times you’d even gone with Hill to work recon on some intel Fury had gotten from god knew where. One other you’d joined Natasha on what she called a ‘quickie’ to neutralize a small arms dealer in Ukraine. Each time had felt like an audition like you were unwittingly trying for a part you didn’t ask for but you wouldn’t mind having either. 

As you clean the kitchen, trying to think of what to fill the next few hours with, you see someone you weren’t expecting chatting with Steve in the back of the property. Fury. 

Bitterness touches your tongue. He’d left a few days after you came to and hadn’t been back since. You were glad of it—you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of dislike you had for the man, despite the help he’d provided. Maybe you just needed someone to blame. 

You turn away before they can see you, not wanting to chance an uncomfortable exchange if you don’t have to. Quickly you dry your hands, leaving a few things in the sink, and turn to head upstairs.

Wanda dodges you on her way down. Her headphones are in but she gives you a smile and a nod. 

“Why’s Fury here?” She asks while opening the fridge. 

“No idea,” you say, pausing halfway up the stairs. 

“Hey-” you turn back and she gives you one of her knowing looks-“wanna go for a hike?”

The house was nestled close to the mountains. With the tight space, it had become pretty normal for each of you to head out into the idyllic woods a few times a week at least. You smile, appreciating the out she’s giving you. 

“Sure.” 

It was early summer but there was still a crispness to the air that was bracing. Under the soft green shadows left by the trees, you forgot your discomfort at seeing Fury and let everything fall away.

You’ve lost yourself in the sounds of the forest when a small twig smacks you in the face, still glittering red as it falls to the ground. Your jaw drops as you spin to see Wanda laughing, disappearing into the woods, flying into the canopy. 

“That was dirty!” You call after her, your own feet leaving the ground. 

This game of telekinetic tag started one night that neither of you could sleep. The room you shared, hell the whole house, felt claustrophobic so you both headed into the woods. Now, if you were alone one of you could be counted on to kick it off. 

Halfway up a pine tree, you perch lightly on a branch. Your eyes scan the trees for a red shimmer. When you finally find it you reach up, plucking a pinecone from the tree, and propel it through the air. 

“Dammit!” You hear Wanda call out. 

A soft laugh rolls from you as you step off the branch, guiding your fall with your ability. At the ground, you don’t let your feet touch the earth to avoid making a sound. Instead, you push yourself between the trees like a human pinball, pivoting to make it harder for her to get a lock on you. 

This endless game had an unseen advantage, it allowed you to flex your power in ways you never truly had. Even training with Bucky you’d always fought to keep it in check, only use it when necessary, always afraid of just what it could do. 

With yours and Wanda’s game though, all those fears were gone. Neither of you was afraid of the other or worried you’d unsettle them--the fear of being a freak fell away and for just a moment you were both free. With that freedom, you felt yourself getting stronger. 

Though it hadn’t been the intention when this game started you were glad of it, the stronger you were the better. Your hand settles for just a moment on the still-healing wounds on your chest, a reminder of why you needed to be as adept as possible. You would become strong enough that no one could take him or anyone else you love from you ever again.  

One of the tendrils of power you sent out snaps back to you, indicating she’s close by. In less than a heartbeat, you’re into the canopy once more. Your toes barely touch the flexible pine branches as you fly. 

Just ahead you can see the clearing which was the unofficial neutral ground. Focusing you make a beeline for it. You’re almost there when a deluge of leaves and pine needles drop on your head from above. 

You drop to the ground, landing lightly, sputtering bits of foliage from your mouth while Wanda cackles.

“I cannot believe you,” you say tossing a handful of debris at her. Slipping your jacket off you give it a few good shakes, though some things still stick to the soft fleece. 

“Oh come on-” she nudges you with her shoulder- “that was hilarious and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say as you lay your jacket on the ground--it was already going to need a wash so why not use it as a blanket. Laying down on it you sigh contentedly looking up at the picturesque blue sky with its fluffy white clouds dancing around. 

Wanda settles close by and you both take in the peace for a time, comfortable with the silence. You’d actually dozed off a bit when her voice wakes you. 

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You respond groggily. 

“I… Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” the hesitation in her tone makes you nervous. You turn onto your side to look at her. 

“I didn’t mean to see it but…” One of the pebbles she was orbiting above her falls. “You were dreaming last night, you said a name--Nick, maybe? I’ve seen him before, it just seemed particularly strong--er, painful--last night…” She tilts her head to meet your eyes, “Are you ok?”

It was easy to forget that Wanda had more than telekinesis under her belt. 

“Yeah-” you force a tight grin- “I’m good. Just a dream. Sorry, I woke you.”

“Who is he?” Her eyes hold an emotion you can’t quite name and she doesn’t even acknowledge your weak lie. Something about the whole thing shakes you.

Sighing you sit up, resting your forearms on your knees. With effort, you swallow the lump in your throat, focus your gaze on the tree line to keep the tears from falling. 

“I’m sorry,” her voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “I try not to pick up things from people. Just when I’m asleep it’s harder and I-”

“Wanda,” you cut her off. “It’s absolutely fine. Never apologize for things you can’t control, especially not to me.” Looking over your shoulder you see her up on her knees, eyes focused on the grass she was plucking up blade by blade. 

“He was my brother.” At the telling word ‘was’ her eyes shoot to yours, brimming with emotion. “His name was Nix. Hydra-” Your voice cracks, forcing you to draw in a trembling breath. “Hydra killed him.” You don’t say, And everyone else, or, Because of me, but god you feel the weight of those truths. 

“I’m sorry...” She dashes tears away on her sweater sleeve. Your lips purse in something you hope looks more like a smile than a grimace.

After a long pause, she says, “I lost my brother too.” You feel your chest tighten. “When we fought Ultron.” She sniffles, “He died a hero so I guess that should make it better…” You almost pull her into your arms but you don’t know if she’d welcome the gesture. 

Instead, you sigh, “No, it shouldn’t.” Because she deserved to know that just because he died for a good cause didn’t mean he deserved to die at--you did the math--17 maybe 18.

She nods. When she looks back at you her expression is desperate, “Does it get better?” 

For a moment you’re struck dumb. She looks so young, suddenly. All you want is to protect her from this brutal world that takes so much mare than it gives. You want to tell her that it does, want to believe that lie so very much. But you just can’t…

“No,” you shake your head. “I don’t think anything will ever fill that blank space. At least for me.”

“Not even Bucky?” She doesn’t mean for the question to hurt. She’s just a girl who wants, on some level, to believe that love can heal all wounds, even ones this deep. 

“Not even him. But-” you reach out for her hand, happy when she takes it- “it helps. Knowing you can love someone, even after you know how much it hurts to lose the ones closest to you. It makes you… start to feel like a person again.”

Wanda nods, wiping at her eyes. Neither of you says more. The silence holds you close and you allow yourselves to be lost in it for just a little while. By the time you pry yourselves from your peaceful getaway, the sun is setting. 

Just before you exit the trees by the back of the property she rests a hand on your shoulder. Wanda opens her mouth to say something but nothing falls out. 

You’re about to ask when she flings her arms around your neck hugging you tight. You return the hug, hoping that maybe she felt less alone in her grief. 

You look toward the house, “You’ve got something here, Wanda, with these people. It won’t ever be the same but it doesn’t make them any less family.” 

“I know,” she says with a soft smile. 

As you get closer to the house you allow thoughts of sweet cornbread and spicy chili chase away the clouds of sadness hovering around your mind. Wanda lets out a contented groan as the smell of the chili envelops you both. 

“When can we eat that?”

You laugh, “About an hour. Cornbread needs to be made.”

“Can I just-” The lid of the pot is suddenly enveloped in red.

“Nope,” you say, slamming your power on top of her own. 

“Fine,” she sighs. “But tell me when it’s ready before Steve and Sam.”

“I will absolutely give you first dibs since you won today.”

Nodding with approval she floats a banana over to her. The glowing fruit follows her as she heads upstairs. 

Before you start the cornbread you make a fresh pot of coffee. Honestly, who would expect you to cook without caffeine? Humming whatever song pops into your head you line up the few ingredients you’ll need, determine that you’ll likely need a triple batch for this crowd, take a swig of coffee, and dive in. 

Once the oven is loaded you’ve all but forgotten the ache that opened up when you and Wanda spoke. Not wanting to lose this feeling you take your coffee to the breakfast table and pick up a book someone, Natasha you’d wager, left. You smile at the bawdy image on the cover, the woman had a thing for a good smutty romance, and open it up.

Quickly you lose yourself to the words and the homey smells. You could be almost anywhere good in your past. It was wonderful. 

When the kitchen door opens you expect to see Steve or Natasha but instead Fury is there sniffing the air. All the comfort you’d been wrapped in immediately falls away. 

His gaze finally lands on you, “I was hoping I’d catch you.”

“Where else can I go,” your tone is frigid.

He doesn’t acknowledge your snipe, “Can I have a word?”

You glance at the timer, “You have eight minutes.” 

Nodding he sits across from you, sliding a manila folder over. You take it, opening the front flap slowly. Immediately your mouth goes dry. 

“Do you government types get off by showing people documentation of the worst things that have happened to them?” You fling the file across the table. 

“Technically I’m not a government type anymore.” You raise a brow at him but he continues. “But no. That file is, to the best of my knowledge, the last remaining documentation of your time with Hydra.” 

He slides it back to you. This time your hand rests flat on the smooth surface as you try to process exactly what he means. Thankfully, Fury wasn’t in the mood to hold back. 

“You’ve been wiped from the dark web, every IP that accessed your information has been hunted down, any paper copies that could be located were destroyed-” he pauses, meeting your disbelieving stare- “and I pulled that one from Ross’ personal files myself.”

Almost reverently you open the file once more. Flipping through you stop at the photos Ross had displayed, the ones with just the faintest glimpses of your family. A trembling finger traces the edge of Nix’s image, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“Barnes-” the sound of Bucky’s name makes your eyes shoot to Fury once more- “was well before my time. But you… What happened to you, to your people, that was on my watch.” He pauses, expression sincere, “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”

Guilt rushes over you in a wave. You had greatly misjudged this man. He deserved better than that. 

“Thank you.”

Fury nods, “Well, that’s what I was here to deliver.” He stands, turning to go.

“You should stay and eat. I promise it’ll be good,” you say with a genuine smile.

He takes a deep breath, “I think I will.” 

-

Within the next two weeks, it’s time for you all to move on. 

For a few days, you light in the Austrian city of Strausberg, waiting on instructions from Fury. Once received you head just outside of Krakow in Poland to work on flushing out a human trafficking operation. 

Though few would argue Steve’s de facto position as the leader of this group the necessity to stay as under the radar as possible means you all rely heavily on Natasha’s espionage roots. Her masterful ability at laying out quiet but extremely effective plans and countermoves ensure that not a whisper of who was behind this mission slips out.

The more you’re in the field the more you’re surprised to find that you’re able to put your ill-begotten skill set to good use. It feels like spitting in Hydra’s face which, of course, makes victory all the sweeter. 

You’re also surprised at how it makes the ache of missing Bucky lessen even a little. This does, you’re ashamed to admit to yourself, make victory just a touch bitter.

Six weeks later you’re all packing your bags once more though you don’t all head in the same direction. Natasha and Wanda opt to take some personal time away, for what exactly neither specifies but they agree to one be gone for a couple of weeks and to be in touch. Hill goes with Fury, focused on some other clandestine mission. This leaves you, Sam, and Steve to fend for yourselves with little to do in Belarus of all places.

Sam walks into the kitchen of the small house the three of you were staying in as you and Steve clean blood off each other’s faces. 

“Y’all…” He sighs, setting bags of groceries down. “I swear, we need to find something to do before the two of you kill each other.”

You laugh, “A little training never hurt anyone.”

“Your black eye begs to differ,” he says from behind the fridge door. 

“You should see what she did to my back,” Steve groans dramatically as he plops into a dining chair.

“Wow. Hangs up his shield and turns into a big beardy baby.” Steve hurls his washcloth at your face playfully. Sam just rolls his eyes at both of you.  

Looking at Steve’s bruises, your bloody knuckles, and feeling the swelling on your own face--maybe Sam had a slight point. It felt good though. Steve’s style was different from Bucky’s and since he was less afraid of hurting you, it was closer to a real fight. To Bucky’s credit, he hadn’t been wrong when he said neither of you knew when to quit. But what were a few bruises between friends?

“Sure you don’t wanna go a round, Wilson?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah-” Sam sits at the table with you both- “don’t think I need a reminder on where I fall in this ranking. Last time I went around with her I thought I was gonna lose a lung.”

“I did not hit you that hard.” 

“Some of us are just plain old people and have a very different definition of hard.”

“Oh come on Sam,” you say with a smirk. “You’re not plain.”

“Why must you wound me, woman?!” He exclaims. 

Between the banter and laughter from the three of you, the sound of Steve’s phone ringing is lost. When it goes off again he notices, glancing at the screen his expression shifts from joy to severity so fast it’s jarring. His eyes dart to you and away before he pushes away from the table. 

“I need to take this,” he says heading for the door.

“Steve?” You don’t try to hide your desperation as you shoot up, sending your chair slamming into the wall behind you. 

He turns, a tight smile on his lips. “I promise I will tell you everything I can as soon as I know.” His hand rests on the knob as he says over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”

Sam rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, guiding you into the living room. You curl your legs under you on the squeaky couch. He sits beside you, offering his hand. You hold it, taking comfort in his firm grip. 

“He’s gonna be ok, Y/N.”

“What if he’s not?” You say in a flat tone. 

Sam’s hand squeezes yours, “If he’s not, you will be. You’ve got us.” He pulls your hand toward him, “Come here.” You don’t resist him and lean into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight.

Surrounded by Sam’s warmth you try to convince yourself that he’s right. Maybe you could be ok, maybe you could keep your promise to Bucky… Maybe. Something in your heart knows that you’re just trying to lie to yourself.

Right back, turns into over an hour. Sam doesn’t try to give you any other words of comfort. He’s just there for you and that’s enough. 

When the door opens you literally fly up from your seat, power coming in one rush. Forcing yourself down, you look at Steve, unable to speak. When you register the genuine smile and wide eyes a lump rises in your throat. 

He reaches up, pulling you the rest of the way to the floor. “He’s ok. They did it.” You stare in disbelief, it had been only four months... 

“He’s awake, healthy, and they got that shit out of his head. Hydra’s triggers are gone.” You shake your head, unwilling or unable to accept such good news. “He’s gonna be fine, truly.” 

Your hand rushes to your mouth to contain the sob as you fold at the waist, hot tears spilling out. Steve envelopes you in his arms, tugging you to his chest. A moment later Sam joins, and you’re surrounded by love and support as you weep, for once, in absolute joy. 

Pushing away you take a jittery breath, “Can--When can we see him?” 

Steve’s blue eyes sparkle with his own happy tears, “I don’t know yet. Soon hopefully.” He brushes a tear from your cheek with a calloused finger before pressing a brotherly kiss to the top of your head. 

“Woo!” Sam whoops. “I knew I got steak for dinner tonight for a reason.”

“Fuck yes!” You turn, giving him a tight hug. “Whiskey, we need to celebrate.” 

“If you can stand more good news,” Steve says a bit coy. You and sam stare at him waiting, “Heard from Nat too. She’s meeting up with Wanda and they’ll be here tomorrow evening.” 

The thought of bringing Bucky into this collection of people one day, maybe far sooner than you ever allowed yourself to hope for, keeps you on a cloud of happiness for the next few days. 

You’re enjoying your morning coffee with Natasha and Wanda, pulling bits of information about their individual time away when Steve pops in. 

“Can I steal you?” The smile playing at the edges of his lips make your heart skip. 

“Sure.” You follow him to the backyard. 

“We head out today,” he says. It takes all you’ve got to not jump up and down like a kid hearing they’re going to Disney. “1100 hours.”

“Are we all-”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Just us. We should pack everything in case they need to move on before we get back. We’ll be catching a ride so they’ll keep the jet.”

“Where are we going?” You ask, brows knitting. 

“Can you wait a bit longer to find out?” You shrug in aquesiance. 

The next few hours are both the longest and shortest of your life. Your heart aches for him but you hate to leave so quickly. When you’d asked Steve if you had a timeframe he wasn’t sure, it made this goodbye feel strange.  

“Ok, be sure to tell your cyborg boyfriend-” Sam begins.

“I thought we agreed that per your definition of cyborg he no longer qualifies thanks to Stark’s fuckery.” You still wanted to rip that assholes arm off to show him how it feels. 

“Nerds,” Natasha shoots at you both. 

“Whatever,” Sam shakes his head. “Be sure to tell him he doesn’t have my approval yet.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s gonna go over beautifully.” 

Sam laughs pulling you into a hug. “I’m happy for you,” he says by your ear. You give him a big smile as you pull away, not trusting yourself not to cry if you speak. 

Clearing your throat loudly you say, “It’s not like this is goodbye, I’ll be back.” Though Steve admitted he didn’t have an exact timeframe. 

Natasha sighs, “It better be soon. We can’t just rely on Sam to cook. He’ll kill us.” 

You giggle, “This is true.” 

A red glowing spiral bound book smacks into your head drawing your attention to Wanda who had been lingering in a corner. You pluck it from the air, opening the sketch pad to reveal crisp blank pages. 

“Your other one is getting full,” she says with a sniffle. Surrounding her in your power you drag her to you and hug her close. 

“Your it,” she whispers. 

“Fair,” you say, dashing a tear as you release her. 

See you soons exchanged you and Steve head for the door.

“Hey!” Sam yells after you both. “You should also be sure to tell him who gave you that shiner!” Steve looks down at you, back at Sam, and lets out a pained laugh, fingers running through his hair. 

Leave it to Sam. The two of you walk into the bright day with a chorus of laughter from your friends following you, chasing away the sadness of leaving. 

The meeting place was about an hour’s walk from where you were staying in an industrial park that had shuttered for the night. Steve leads you into a warehouse building, clearly confident in where you were headed. 

Fluorescents lit the space, the harsh light almost brighter than the sun. Looking around you notice two women, arms crossed looking somewhat annoyed, speak by the loading ramp of a jet that puts the Quin to shame. They silence as soon as the two of you are close. 

“Captain!” An oddly familiar voice calls. 

When Prince T’Challa rounds the jet you immediately flinch back, feeling the fresh scars on your chest burn with the memory of sharp claws. Another woman following him joins the other two. 

He holds his hands up, “I come in peace.” His smile seems true but you still glare at Steve, demanding an explanation. 

“Prince T’Challa-”

“Just T’Challa, please.”

Steve nods, “Has been harboring Bucky.”

“What?!” Your tone sounds more venomous than you mean it to. 

“I made a poor judgment call and acted out of grief and vengeance. Sergeant Barnes wasn’t deserving of the blame I put on him. I wanted to make it right.” His eyes move to your chest for an instant. “I hope I can make right the harm I did to you too… If you’ll let me.” You look back to Steve, still in shock. 

“I trust him,” he says with a nod.

T’Challa extends a hand to you. For just a breath you hesitate before taking it in your own. 

“You swear he’s safe?” You ask, eyes boring into his. 

“I do.” 

“Ok.” 

“Can we leave?” The woman asks T’Challa. 

He laughs, “Yes we can leave as long as these two are good.” You and Steve exchange a quick glance and nod. “Good. Let’s move out.”

-

According to the three-dimensional map, that you can only comprehend as fucking magic, you’re already almost to Wakanda in a little over four hours. Your brain can’t fully comprehend how but this jet was full of mindblowing elements. 

Your foot begins to bounce rapidly, anxiety spiking for some reason the closer you get. 

“Hey,” Steve sits beside you, nudging you with his shoulder. 

“Hey.” 

“What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not-” He sets his own heavy boot over yours, stopping your bounce. “I don’t know.”

“Here,” Okoye holds out a glass. “Tea, it will help.”

“Thanks.” You hated tea but she didn’t strike you as the kind of woman who’s kindness one took lightly. Taking a sip you’re actually surprised that you like the spicy earthy taste. “What is this?” 

“Tea,” she says with a smirk sitting across from you crossing her legs casually. You raise a brow and she laughs. “It’s a special, personal, blend.” 

“She bought it at a tea shop,” T’Challa says walking past her. She scoffs and kicks the back of his calf. He laughs, “But they made it for her so I guess it counts.”

“Three until we’re at the barrier,” Nailah calls back. 

Okoye’s smile fills her face, “You’re going to want to see this.’ She stands, nodding to the front. You look to Steve and he has the same smile, nodding for you to follow. 

You all crowd the front of the jet as you rapidly approach what looked to you like the side of a mountain. No one else seemed nervous though… Assuming this wasn’t the calmest suicide mission ever you swallow your exclamation and watch… Just as you brace yourself for the impact the goddamn mountain opens--no fades away like a hologram--revealing a massive river city nestled in the mountains. The late afternoon sun makes the structures sparkle, trams seem to hover around the buildings, green spaces seamlessly flow through everything. 

“Holy shit,” you breathe in absolute wonder. 

“Welcome to Wakanda,” T’Challa says, beaming. 

When the jet gently touches down you finally look at Steve. 

“I know,” he laughs, “believe me.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you toward your waiting bags, the weight of his arm the only thing keeping you from floating off the ground in sheer excitement. 

The two of you follow the others off the jet onto a large landing deck. 

“Finally!” Someone calls as you all step off. A slight woman with a smirk on her face stands waiting with her arms crossed. 

“What?” T’Challa responds. “We made excellent time.” She sighs loudly, rolling her eyes. 

“Shuri, this is Y/N.” He turns to you as you walk up. Her face explodes in a Cheshire-like grin, extending a hand to you.

“It’s so good to actually meet you!” Her handshake quickly turns into an enthusiastic hug. 

You huff out an awkward laugh, “Do I even want to know how my reputation proceeds me?” Your eyes slide to Steve who shakes his head to indicate it wasn’t him. 

“Oh! Bucky talks about you often,” she says with a soft smile. At the mention of his name you look around the platform, perhaps a little desperately. “He’s not here. We’ve got a raft ready to go see him though.”

“Is going immediately a good idea?” T’Challa asks cautiously.

“Of course!” Shuri says with a shrug. “Plus, he hasn’t had a positive surprise like this yet. It will be good research.”

Steve shoots you a glance, his fresh worry mirroring your own. There isn’t time to ask more questions before you’re loaded up and heading off once more. 

You want to be awestruck by the goddamn hovercraft you’re standing on, and the breathtaking… everything you’re passing but all you can hear in your head is Shuri saying he hadn’t been surprised yet. What could happen? What risk was there? Was this a bad idea? Would everything be broken by yours and Steve’s sudden arrival? Would he even want-

All thoughts cease as the craft crests a small hill. There, sitting by a small lake was a man looking out at the water and the fiery sky. His hair, so much longer, hid his face but then you see a hand raised in a familiar motion, fingers running through this hair.

You weren’t sure you could have stopped it if you wanted to. A burst of power propels you from the craft, sending you into the air. Vaguely you hear Shuri let out a sound, Steve says something, but you’re quickly too far away to hear. You push against the air with all you’ve got, body humming, heart thundering, arms aching to hold him. 

Ten feet away from him you land silently, suddenly nervous again. Worried of breaking him somehow… But then-

“Bucky?” You say softly, almost a whisper. 

His back straightens but he doesn’t move immediately. Fear fills you, bad call wrong fuck-

Bucky plucks a small earbud from and turns, blue eyes glassy, face filled with wonder. He stands, rounding the bench so slowly it feels like forever. 

“I’m not dreaming?” He asks sincerely. Tears make his image ripple, turning everything into a watercolor. Biting your lip you shake your head no, taking a few steps forward, each one less grounded than the last. 

“Y/N…” His smile, unlike anything you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t rush into one another’s arms. The space between you closes with tentative steps. So like how you fell in love, a short distance carefully traveled until… A familiar calloused hand tenderly wipes the tears from your cheeks. 

Reaching up you take his face in your hands. His eyes flutter closed as you dash away his tears when they open once more you nearly gasp at their beauty. 

Bucky’s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your lips to his. There’s no resistance as you melt into him. 

The kiss begins tender but quickly succumbs to your hungry need for one another and the world falls away. This is all there is, he is all you feel, taste, breathe. 

Gasping for air, you both pull away. Resting your forehead against his you realize that the world literally fell away. Unconsciously you’d enveloped the both of you in your power, sending you about five feet off the ground. His eyes glitter with the wonder they always hold when it comes to your ability. 

Gently, you lower you both back down, unable to look away from him. Once gravity has you again though you can no longer hold back the question that weighed on you since Steve handed you Bucky’s letter. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t still have you?” He looks away and you tilt his face back to you. “I will always love all of you, James Buchannan Barnes. Always.” Your voice cracks on the final word, emotions overwhelming you. 

He kisses you once more. “Goddamn, I love you, Y/N.” You let out a little laugh and press your lips to his briefly before he pulls you away, thumb lightly touching the bruise at your eye.

“What happened?” His tone suddenly concerned. “Who-” Steve clears his throat from behind you, cutting him off. A snicker slips from you as you turn to face your blushing friend.

“Uh-” Steve runs an awkward hand through his hair- “That would be my fault.” Bucky’s eyes dart from his best friend back to you in confusion and worry. 

“Friendly fire,” you shrug. 

He rolls his eyes hard, laughing, “I knew I shouldn’t have left the two of you alone.”

Steve laughs, clearly relieved Bucky wasn’t pissed about giving his girl a shiner. Your heart swells as the two of them exchange a long tight embrace. When they separate Steve sniffs hard, clearing his throat. 

“You should see what she did to me,” he says with a sidelong glance at you. 

Laughing you respond, “Oh my god. You are not going to let it go, are you? It’s not even that bad.” Steve raises a brow and lifts his tee, a dark plum bruise spreading from his back around his ribs. 

You grimace, “Ok. Maybe…”

Okoye lets out a low whistle, “Damn.” She looks to you, “We absolutely have to go a round.” She, T’Challa, and Shuri stroll up from where they’d been waiting, giving the three of you some space. 

“Oko, loves a challenge,” T’Challa chuckles. 

“I’m down,” you say lightly. Bucky’s arm wraps around your waist, holding you close.

“Tomorrow,” she says authoritatively. “Though-” she eyes the two of you playfully- “we’ll make it in the afternoon. I won’t steal your woman away before you two get to catch up, Wolf Man.”

“Wolf Man?” You ask looking up at Bucky’s smiling face. 

Shuri laughs, “The kids started calling him the White Wolf. It just sort of stuck.” 

“Steve’s looking a little more like a Wolf Man than me though so I may not keep my title for long.” Steve rubs his beard and gives an agreeing nod. 

“Why don’t we all stay here to talk,” T’Challa takes a few steps toward a circle of low stone benches by the edge of the water. “The sunset is too beautiful to miss.”

As the sky burns in magnificent colors above you all T’Challa and Okoye walk you and Steve through what happened after the events in Siberia. Shuri exclaims that’s why it took so long to get Bucky’s treatment completed if what she accomplished wasn’t miraculous. She explains how she managed to circumnavigate the triggers and how it should remain effective longterm. Sometime during the talk a few folks arrive setting up a table quietly with food. 

“I definitely want to continue monitoring for any changes but it seems that this treatment could be helpful in a lot of cases,” Shuri’s voice drips with excitement. “Honestly, I don’t know why others aren’t utilizing AI in this way. It just makes sense.” You can’t help but laugh. It seemed that she often forgot that not everyone had a mind like hers. 

“If we’re going to have any more technical talk I can’t do it on an empty stomach,” Okoye says standing. 

-

By the end of dinner, your cheeks ache from smiling. 

T’Challa stretches, letting out a long yawn. “I think I’m ready to head back.” Okoye nods and Shuri lets out an exasperated sound. He laughs, “You can keep pummeling Y/N with questions tomorrow if she’s not ready to scream.”

“After what you’ve done, Shuri, I’m an open book.” 

“You may regret that,” she says with a wink. 

“We’ve got a room for you Captain,” Okoye says. “And you, Y/N.” For a second your chest tightens, the thought of leaving Bucky’s side draining the joy you’d been soaking in. “If you want it that is.” 

“Thank you but…” You look up to Bucky, suddenly unsure. “I’d rather stay with you if-” His smile silences you. 

“Of course,” Okoye’s warm smile coloring her words. 

Once they all head back to the city Bucky leads your into his cozy hut. Fire-like lights illuminate the space as soon as you enter, belying the low-tech aesthetic of the space. 

Your eyes wander around, soaking it all in until they land on Bucky. His expression is so tender and full of love, it makes your stomach flutter. 

Without a word, he closes the small space between you. His lips press against your forehead before he looks into your eyes, right hand cupping your cheek. 

“I dreamed about you,” he says in a rough whisper. You can’t help but smile. 

“I dreamed about your smile,” his thumb gently touches the laugh lines at the corners of your mouth. “Your eyes,” a finger tracing your brow. Your hands rest on his hips, holding him close. 

“Your touch,” he presses his body even closer. “Your taste,” he kisses your prone lips, savoring the feeling. Your body shivers with desire as his hand slides down your back, fingers slipping just under the hem of your shirt. “The way you feel.” 

“I dreamed about all of you, but here you are and I realize my dreams didn’t do you justice.”  He studies your face before continuing, “You are so much more than I could ever have dreamed, Y/N, than I ever could have hoped for. And I love you so much more than I think I ever realized before.”

Your eyes sting with tears as you pull his face to yours, kissing him softly. He was right. You thought you knew how much you missed him, how much you loved him--but you didn’t really know until you had him back in your arms. 

When you pull back his hand wanders to your chest, softly touching the thick pink scars there. For a moment pain floods his features before he leans down and kisses each one, causing your breath to catch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin. 

“No,” you say firmly. “Don’t.” Your hand gently runs down the beautiful fabric draped over his left shoulder. 

When you meet his gaze he nods subtly. Hooking the knot with your fingers you pull it over his head. Your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest before peeling the garment back. Only then do you slide your eyes over to his left side. 

The silver metal you’d grown so used to seeing is gone, replaced with a dark smooth material. It’s warm to the touch, the end a smooth cap. 

“Does it bother you?” Bucky asks. 

“Of course not,” you assure him. “I just… Stark...” There’s a bite to your voice. 

“Honestly, I’m glad it’s gone.” His eyes are steady and you know he’s being honest. It was a reminder. 

His fingers run along your jaw, a smoky grin curling his lips. Desire explodes in you. 

At first, you’re both fumbling a bit, the new mechanics of the situation and the time away needing to be worked through. It doesn’t matter. You laugh, kiss, and relearn one another inch by inch. 

-

Bucky wakes but doesn’t open his eyes, too afraid that yesterday was a sweet dream. 

He notes the earthen smell of his hut, the feel of his soft bedding, the sound of the lake… The sound of your breathing, deep and steady. 

Not a dream. You were really here. You were really safe. 

He opens his eyes, looking over at your sleeping form. The golden light from outside slips beneath the curtain making you practically glow. One arm is curled under your pillow, the other languidly reaches in his direction. 

Sitting up slowly he studies you closer. The way your hair falls into your face, the length starting to dust your shoulders. The gentle curve of your spine. And he hoped he wasn’t imagining the slight smile on your sleeping lips. 

Before you and Steve arrived he knew that eventually, you’d come together, but that he’d have to choose between the safety Wakanda afforded him and you. For a brief period, he wasn’t sure what the right choice was. Was it better to stay away, to avoid putting more of a target on your back? 

Now he knows it doesn’t matter. Be it the right choice or not, nothing could make him leave your side again. Nothing. 

Tenderly his fingers run a path down your back, not wanting to wake you but needing to touch you. The latticework of scars there looking like golden embroidery in the light, just something that makes you all the more beautiful to him. 

A small noise slips from between your lips. He rests his hand on your low back as you stir. 

“Bucky,” you breath out, expression almost disbelieving.

“Goodmorning, sweetheart.” Your smile makes his heart rabbit in his chest. 

-

Shuri glances from the readings before her and back to Bucky, a look of mild concern coloring her features. 

“Everything alright, Bucky?” 

“Of course,” he lies. He’d spent the morning oscillating between suffocating joy at having you back and paralyzing fear over knowing he won’t be able to say goodbye to you… and just what that means. 

“I’m sure Okoye won’t go too hard on her,” she gives him a reassuring smile. 

He huffs out a small laugh. While he went to Shuri’s lab for his daily check-in Okoye had stolen you away for a sparring session. Admittedly, he wasn’t the most comfortable with that either, though he wasn’t worried about you. 

“We can call this good for today. We’ll meet them at the training field.” Shuri, ever four steps of everyone, doesn’t wait for him to agree just begins grabbing things to leave. 

It’s a short walk from Shuri’s lab to the training field. His mind doesn’t have time to wander with her constant excited chatter. While he may not fully comprehend half of what she tells him he knows she likes to have a sounding board, talking helps her narrow in on whatever brilliant thing her mind is working on. He’s happy Shuri is comfortable enough with him to do this. 

They stop under a large awning, slightly elevated from the large open-air training space, to watch you and Okoye have at it. She lands a hard blow to the side of your face and he flinches, knuckles white as he grips the railing. 

“Come on!” He hears Okoye taunt, circling you. “You’re holding back,” she tosses a blunt spear between her hands. “I want to see what you can really do.”

A smirk curls your lips before you spit red into the dirt. “Alright.”

Your shoulders roll back, feet planted like he taught you. With an almost imperceptible twitch of your head, the spear flies from Okoye’s grip, landing in your hand. It’s a showy move but you’ve left yourself open just enough. 

Bucky bites his tongue to keep from calling out as Okoye takes the chance, moving with the grace and speed of a trained warrior. The moment she moves to kick your abdomen you’re suddenly airborne, using the spear as a pivot point. Okoye’s foot meets nothing but empty space sending her stumbling while you bring both feet down into her side.  

She rolls away, body already coiled to right herself. You’re faster though. 

He watches, slack-jawed, as your toes barely touch the ground before you propel yourself with speed through the air to Okoye. She’s barely registered your presence before the spear point is pointed at her throat. 

“I think by your rules that’s a win,” you say, a bit breathless. 

The sound of slow clapping from behind him makes Bucky jump. He’d been so engrossed in watching that he hadn’t noticed T’Challa and Steve enter. 

“Why thank you my king,” Okoyes says as you pull her to her feet. 

“Don’t be a sore loser now general,” T’Challa teases. She throws him a sideways glare. 

“Impressive,” Bucky says as you walk up. 

“I had a good teacher,” you say before pressing your lips to his briefly. 

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t teach you that.” 

“So,” Shuri begins, a peculiar tension in her tone, “does she pass?” You give Bucky a questioning look but he only shrugs, just as confused. 

“Oh yes,” Okoye pours water over her head, wiping her face with a towel. “If only because I demand a rematch.” 

“Did I miss something?” You ask turning to face the others. They all have grins on their faces, even Steve. 

“Let’s sit,” T’Challa nods to a small seating area. Glancing at Bucky, you slide your hand in his before following.

T’Challa’s expression is open but he lets out a long sigh before beginning. “I offered Bucky asylum in Wakanda because I realized he’d been just as much a victim of Zemo’s hatred as my father. I feel the same goes for you.” He pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. “You had no choice but to become involved in this mess, your whole life was turned upside down… again. I feel partially responsible for that.”

“I don’t-” He cuts you off with a raised hand. 

“I’d like to offer you the chance to stay here as well.” 

Bucky draws in a sharp breath. Your eyes, large and disbelieving turn to him. Neither of you dare speak. 

“There is one stipulation.”

“Of course,” you say almost breathless.

“Given our recent… incident, we are aware of the need to bolster our forces. If you chose to stay you’d be expected to serve as a defender of Wakanda under General Okoye should the need arise.” Shuri makes a small noise and T’Challa laughs. “Go on.”

“I’d also be interested in studying your ability,” she says. Bucky sees your body instantly tense. 

“Nothing without your consent,” Shuri tries to assure you. “I can also do as I’ve done for Bucky and look into exactly what those monsters may have done to avoid any potential issues in the future.”

Your gaze falls to Steve, an unspoken question hanging between you both. 

“They’ll understand,” Steve says smiling. 

When you look at him once more his mouth goes dry. He should tell you to do what feels right, to do what was best for you, but the words stick in his throat along with his breath. 

Bucky watches as all question and doubt drains from your expression, replaced with a softness he can’t name. Your fingers gently trace his jaw and air floods into his lungs, tension fleeing him. 

You turn back to T’Challa, “Yes. I… anything to stay I’ll do it. And Shuri-” you take a deep shaky breath- “I’d like to know what they did too-”

“Everything at your pace I swear,” Shuri cuts you off, almost bouncing with excitement. 

“I believe you,” you say with a small laugh. 

“Thank you,” he says to T’Challa, holding his gaze. T’Challa smiles and nods, understanding the weight of Bucky’s words. 

-

You expected saying goodbye to Steve would be hard but not this hard. His arms crush you tight into his chest and you just know your tears are soaking into his tee. Sniffing hard you pull away. 

“Tell them…” You trail off, wiping your eyes. Sorry wasn’t right, you could already hear Sam calling you out on that bullshit, and you didn’t know when you’d see them again. 

“Tell them, I’ll miss them and that this isn’t goodbye.” It hurt to say it, fresh tears finding their way down your cheeks, but it was the truth. You wouldn’t let this be goodbye. Steve nods, quickly wiping at his own eyes. He looks at Bucky, forcing a slight smile. 

“There are a few people you’re gonna have to answer to later, Buck.”

“I look forward to it,” Bucky says, his hand resting on the small of your back. Steve looks at you both before pulling you into a group hug. 

“I’m so happy for you,” he says softly before releasing you. 

“We’ll see you later, punk.” Bucky’s smile is soft and sad. 

Steve laughs softly, “Jerk.” 

You and Bucky stand on the landing deck until the jet is out of sight, silent, just holding tightly to one another. After all what was there to say?

Shuri offers to give you both a lift back to Bucky’s place… your place? How strange to think of it that way. On the ride her easy conversation is comforting. 

As soon as you say your goodbyes to her you head to the edge of the lake, a bit dazed after everything. The sun is just barely above the horizon, casting the sky in breathtaking shades from yellow to deep twilight purple. You take it all in, the beauty almost overwhelming. 

 “Y/N,” Bucky calls to you. Turning back you see him by the doorway. He extends his hand but you don’t go to him immediately. Instead, you take him in, lit in soft golden light. 

He was impossible, this man you loved. Impossible that his kind heart could remain after so much pain, impossible he could survive all he did, impossible that he loved you with all he was despite all you were. And the most impossible of all, he was here, safe, reaching out for your hand. He was yours. 

Finally, you go to him, his palm engulfing yours, tugging you in for a kiss. Bucky pulls back, looking down at you with such love it takes your breath away. 

“We’re home, doll.” 

Nothing had ever felt truer.

[THANK YOU ALL AGAIN!]

@bluegirlusa1​  @l0kisbitch​  @tazzi-baby​  @disagreetoagree​  @woodyandbuzz20-01​  @mooniightbucky​   @saundrasays​  @breezy1415​  @alyssaj23​  @mywinterwolf​  @wonderlandmind4​  @fairislesheets  @anamcg317​  @buckaroo-barnes​  @jazztherebel​  @peachthatdrinkslemonade​  @regulusirius​   @auskitty​ @babyimp1967​ @katecolleen​  @handplucked​  @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​  @darkdragonphoenix​  @issanitydead​  @thestorydetective​  @buckysstar​  @wintersoldierswhore  @greyeyedsmile14​  @watchoutforfrostbite​  @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​  @jewelofwinter​  @siriuslycloudy2​  @hardygal69​  @marvelousmeggi  @jdoenson​  @gamorazenn​ @wildmoonflower​ @cutie1365​ @demonlover87​ @winterboobearsworld​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @damnaged-princess​

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky x enhanced!reader #bucky feels

[aswallowssong]

Second Child, Restless Child

Chapter 3 - They Saw Trouble in My Eyes

@valkyrie-5583

Read on AO3

Kit goes on her first case with the BAU and butts heads with everyone's favorite veteran profiler, Reid is a habitual sniffler, and protocol is out the window as always.

“Eleven-year-old Billie Copeland was last seen on the playground at 4:30 yesterday afternoon.”

JJ was walking around the table, handing over case files in manila folders. Each bore the print of the bureau on the front, and Kit blinked in surprise when one landed in front of her.

She knew that she was going to be a part of briefings. She’d been a part of a few during the handful of times she’d been called into the field directly out of the clinic. The times Monty and Ari dreaded but she secretly loved. She just didn't know that she would be a part of a briefing with the BAU team this soon. It was Wednesday. She’d barely started on Monday.

Kit almost missed Hotch speak, and when he did it was clear that he was agitated.

“That's… twenty hours ago. Child abduction response plan says we get notified immediately. What happened?”

“Well, there was reason to believe she was with her father,” JJ said, opening her own file as she stood next to their Unit Chief. Kit mirrored her, opening her own. “Her cell phone shows a call to him around the time of the disappearance.”

“So they've since ruled him out?” Gideon said.

“He called the mother about an hour ago,” JJ clarified.

“That doesn't mean he isn't involved.”

“He's on his way to the family home, so you can talk to him there, but the local police are now considering this a stranger abduction.”

“Twenty hours late,” Morgan said.

Kit’s heart sank. She glanced through the file, listening closely to Gideon and JJ go back and forth. Twenty hours was a long time in an abduction case, she knew that, but it was Reid’s voice that dropped her heart even further into her stomach.

“Long-term stranger abductions of children Billie's age are rare. They represent only half of one percent of all missing cases per year, but they are usually more likely to be fatal.”

Fatal. This little girl could be dead. How are they going to find her?

Of course, Kit had done more research about the BAU in the last few days. Or, at least Monty and Ari had. They dealt with abductions, stalkers, arsonists, you name it. Their specialty, however, was serial killers. To say that had nearly sent Monty into a spiral would have been an understatement.

Kit had come to terms with the fact that she could - would - come face-to-face with killers in her new position. The thought was less than comforting.

“Of the children that are abducted and murdered, 44% die within the first hour. From that point forth, their odds of survival greatly decrease. 75% are gone after 3 hours. Virtually all of them are dead after 24.” Reid finished, looking unhappy with his own assessment.

Hotch spoke immediately after Reid had finished. “Which means we have just under 4 hours to find her.”

“Shall we go?” Gideon said, already turning to walk from the room.

The others moved quickly, standing and taking their files with them. The room cleared, and Kit found herself facing the backlash of the left-over emotions in the room. Uncertainty. Frustration. Anger. Determination. It floated around her and settled in her chest like a weight.

Her hands went to close the file quickly, not wanting to look at Billie Copeland’s face anymore. They would find her. They had to find her. They were good at their jobs, and they had their own specialties.

Billie Copeland would be okay.

“Colghain?”

Kit looked up at the unexpected uttering of her name. Hotch was standing there in the doorway, eyebrows drawn together, looking at her expectantly.

It took her a full three seconds to say, “Sir?”

“The jet’s already on the airstrip.”

She stared at him for a moment, entirely unsure of what he meant.

Yeah, it is. Go get that little girl before something terrible happens to her. You’re worried, so why would you be talking to me?

“Good. The flight to Delaware has to be less than half an hour. You guys should go.”

He looked even more confused by her statement.

“Yes, we should,” he said evenly, nodding once at her file, “You’ll need that. Come on.”

“Sir? I’m confused.”

“We have to drive to the airstrip and we have no time to waste. Pick up the file, Colghain, let’s go.”

Oh. Oh.

“I’m… going with you?”

Hotch’s eyes flashed with understanding as she looked utterly confused.

“Yes. Judging by the report Billie has a broken arm in a cast, and she’s been missing twenty hours. She could be in need of immediate medical attention when she’s found.”

When. Not if. Hotch had said ‘when she’s found.’ Somehow, that was all Kit needed to stand from her seat.

She was going with them, to Delaware, to help with a child abduction. Billie Copeland was counting on them to find her alive, and Kit was going to be a part of that team.

Ó mo Dhia.

-----

They loaded into SUVs that took them to the airstrip. The jet was waiting for them, and Kit didn’t have time to wonder or ask or think about anything before peering into her file and taking it all in.

Just like the medical files she had for the team, she noticed Billie Copeland’s medical information was slipped between the first two pages. She knew that wasn’t typical of case files, which meant that JJ had gotten that specifically for her. This file was meant for her. She wasn’t a last minute addition or an extra file. They had meant for her to come.

Kit closed the file. She’d look at it on the jet, like the others. Still, she only had twenty-six minutes between take-off and landing to read the file and take a moment to center her thoughts.

Or at least that’s what Reid had said. The way he had rattled off statistics in the conference room had hit her once he’d gone at it again on the drive over, and she was both surprised and intimidated by his intelligence. She had also noticed that Reid, while gangly and awkward in social settings like in the break room or the bullpen, was confident when it came to facts and figures. When they had been in the conference room he had rattled off statistics with ease, and now in the car he rambled on and on about Wilmington, child abduction rates, and Billie Copeland. How he’d already read the entire file she had no idea. Kit was a fast reader, so were Monty and Ari, but finishing the file before they were in the car? That had to be impossible.

She also found herself bristling at the fact that while he was book smart, he seemed to have a very low grasp of social intelligence. Hotch and JJ were in the SUV with them on the way over, and she didn’t miss the way they both allowed Reid to keep talking and talking while the annoyance in the air grew.

It was the same on the jet, Reid talking and rambling while everyone seemed to try and tune him out and read their files. The only one not giving off the feeling of annoyance was Gideon. Kit had watched him smile at Reid’s rambling the same way her dad used to smile at Al, her youngest brother, whenever he droned on and on about video games he liked or movies he wanted to see.

Kit had waited for everyone else to sit before she had taken the seat she was in now. She closed her eyes for a moment before digging into the information, file flipping open just like it was in the laps of others. She could feel the fingers of her right hand tapping gently, but rapidly against the fabric of her pants. She kept the file open in her left, but let herself take a breath.

How the hell am I going to do this?  

She didn’t want the rest of the team to think she was incompetent. She didn’t want to show them that she didn’t belong. The only ones that had made her feel a bit like the wasn’t an intruder was Hotch, as was his job, and Morgan, who had only seemed to accept her after their accidental run-in at the track. The others had given pleasantries, but she knew how to play that game.

She was a nurse. Pleasantries were her specialty.

Once she’d finished her read through of Billie’s file, she felt confident she could handle anything thrown her way. At least, in terms of Billie’s health. If something had happened to her, there were no medication or preexisting conditions she needed to relay to EMS other than her broken arm, which while it came from a nasty fall, shouldn’t be an issue.

Unless her abductor did something to it .

She had to physically shake her head to stop herself from spiraling into that hole.

No. She’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.

And if you can’t find her? If you find her dead? If you find her and she’s hurt, and you can’t help her? If she dies because of something you’ve done? What then, Dakota? What are you going to do then? What will they think of you? What will Montana and Arizona think? What will you think of yourself?

“Hey, Colghain,” Morgan said, yanking her out of her thoughts.

She looked up to meet his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

His eyes were concerned, and she hadn’t realized a hush had come over the jet. Even Reid was silent.

They were all looking at her. All of them. Kit could physically feel the hot blush flood across her cheeks as her chest tightened even deeper, and before she could stop herself her hand was creeping up to tug on the bottom of one of her braids. She hadn’t even noticed the tenseness of her body until she’d been shaken from her thoughts. She didn’t relax.

“Yeah.”

“You sure? I said your name three ti-”

She cut him off quickly, saying. “I told you Monday, it happens when I read. I’m fine.”

She hadn’t intended for any sort of venom to find it’s way into her words, but it had. Her tone had been just shy of biting, and she knew the look in her eyes had betrayed her usually calm facade. She could almost always keep it even. Keep calm. But between Billie’s abduction, her own spiraling thoughts, and the embarrassment of everyone staring at her, she could only starve off the big feelings with so much efficiency.

Kit blinked hard once before she took a breath, letting all of the tension out of her shoulders.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, “That was rude. I’m fine. Really.”

She was fine. She could be fine.

-----

They loaded into new SUVs the second they landed. The Copelands’ home wasn’t a terribly far drive, and Kit kept herself quiet as the rest of the team bounced around ideas. The urgency was never lost, and no one had made a comment about her outburst as of yet, which she was terribly thankful for.

Keep your emotions in check, Dakota. Calm, nothing else. Keep your head. The big feelings can wait.

“We’re here. I want everyone here at the house but Morgan and I. The family is here, and they’ll need support. I also want them questioned, but keep it covert. The last thing we need is for the Copelands or local law to think we’re hostile or apathetic to their situation.”

“She's been missing twenty-one hours,” Reid said, climbing out of the SUV, ignoring the pointed look he was receiving from Hotch.

Kit didn’t miss it.

“We're gonna go meet with the lead detective at the park where the girl was last seen,” Hotch was saying to Gideon. He was clearly referring to himself and Morgan, who had stayed in the car as requested.

“We need to know everything that's being done,” Gideon said, now completely in control of the situation.

“I'll find out what the press is running, see if I know any of them. We may need to manage what they put out,” JJ said.

“Good,” Gideon offered. He turned to Reid. “See what the uniforms know from the canvasses. Elle and Colghain?”

“Yeah?” Elle asked as she and Kit jogged to quickly catch up with him.

“I need you two to be a liaison with the family.”

“A liaison?” Elle asked.

“In a child abduction, the parents are likely to break down if we aren't careful.”

“Okay.”

“Of course,” Kit added. She knew that. She’d watched it happen once with Monty at the hospital they’d worked in just as they finished their degrees. The mother had a nervous breakdown after her son went missing that landed her in the ER.  “You don’t think both of us will be overwhelming?”

Gideon didn’t break stride as his mistrusting voice cut deep. “Isn’t this the only reason you’re here? Bedside manor?”

Kit almost stopped short, but pushed past his bristling tone to keep stride. She knew that Gideon didn’t trust her, maybe the most of anyone, and she figured she deserved that after her outburst on the jet.

She could fix her relationship with Gideon at another time. In that moment, she had to focus on proving his misconception of her wrong.

Bedside manor. What a joke.

Kit sat beside Elle on the Copelands’ horribly ugly couch as they listened to Detective Russet on the news.

“We're looking for a white male in his thirties who drives a late-model green SUV. If anyone has seen anything suspicious, we have a hotline set up at the Wilmington police department. Billie Copeland is an eleven-year-old girl. The last time she was seen, she was in a blue track suit and a blue soccer uniform,” Russel finished just before Mrs. Copeland, Marilyn, turned the television off.

“They've been running that over and over again for the past two hours,” she said as she sniffled. She’d been crying steadily since they’d come into the house. “The press wants to talk to me. I just-I don't think I can face it.”

“That’s understandable,” Kit said gently. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, keeping her eyes soft and voice quiet. “You don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

“Why don't you just tell us what happened?” Elle said with just as much gentleness, and Kit was pleasantly surprised. Elle had a face that held severity, but she was proving that she could be just as kind as anyone else.

“Um... I was focused on practice, and... Billie was... Being a pain as usual. She was giving me attitude. So I told her to run it off. I sent her away.”

Neither agent said anything as that hung in the air. It took a moment for Elle to speak again.

“How long have you been divorced?”

Wow, okay.  

“Um… it's been final for six months, but we haven't lived together for over a year.”

“You seeing anyone?”

Mrs. Copeland laughed humorlessly. “Between work and Billie, when would I have the time?”

Kit understood what Elle was doing now. If there was a man around Billie often, he could be the abductor. She allowed her voice to stay soft and unassuming as she asked, “Not one date? Any men coming over to the house?”

Mrs. Copeland shook her head.

“I- I had a few casual dates after work, but they never came to the house. Billie still hopes that her father and I will get back together.”

“How did Billie's dog die, Mrs. Copeland?”

Kit and Elle both quickly turned to the sound of Gideon’s voice. It wasn’t sharp as it had been when he had addressed Kit outside. It sounded soft and understanding, the way that Kit instructed the nurses during their quarterly training on, well, bedside manor.

“Uh... It was hit by a car two weeks ago,” Mrs. Copeland said, her head tilting as she gave off a wave of confusion. “How did you know that?”

“Shrine in the room,” Gideon said evenly. “Helps her grieve?”

“Her father did that for her.”

“They get along well?”

“Best of friends. She calls him every night, tells him about her day, asks about his. He's a cancer survivor, so he takes time off from work, pulls her out of school for father/daughter field trips. Says we all need to stop and enjoy life. But he forgets that he has responsibilities, that they both do. Which makes me the bad guy. And she blames me for the divorce.”

Mrs. Copeland’s sadness was now coupled with hints of frustration. “Blames me for everything. I should have just let her go with her father.” She wiped at her mouth slightly, her voice wobbling as tears brimmed in her eyes once more. “I'm sorry,” she finished before standing up and walking from the couch.

There was a moment before Kit looked between Elle and Gideon, decision set.

“I’ve got it,” she said quietly. She stood up and followed as Mrs. Copeland walked away from the living room and into the kitchen.

Kit hung outside of the door, shifting her weight, tapping on the side of her leg, anything to get her to wait. She wanted to wait. She wanted to give Mrs. Copeland just a moment alone to either collect herself or fall into hysterics. Kit could deal with either. She had dealt with either more times than she could count. Her time in the ER had been incredibly informative and gave the fastest crash-course in people she could have imagined. She could do hysterics. She could do steely resolve. But she had to wait, if just thirty seconds.

Those thirty seconds proved fruitful. When Kit walked into the kitchen, Mrs. Copeland was getting a glass of water, tears now gone from her eyes. She was overwhelmed, and Kit hadn’t wanted that. She wanted to lessen the burden, and now she could start.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to apologize,” Kit said quietly, pushing her back against the wall of the kitchen. She wanted to give Mrs. Copeland space, but still stay in orbit. “Everyone processes differently, and you don’t have to apologize for the way you do it. Especially if it’s by crying. We understand.”

Mrs. Copeland looked at Kit for a moment before nodding, just slightly. She took a breath and picked up the glass of water she had gone to pour. Kit noted that the mother’s hands were shaking less than before, and her resolve had come back to her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, and Kit allowed herself to smile.

“Of course,” she assured. “Anything you need, I’m here. Agent Greenaway too.”

Both women jumped as the front door nearly slammed shut. Kit turned sharply towards the noise, peering along with Mrs. Copeland towards the noise.

“Where’s Marilyn?”

“I have been calling you all night!”

Mr. and Mrs. Copeland had fought as soon as she rounded the corner.

“I'm sorry, Marilyn. I turned my phone off.”

“How could you turn your phone off? What if Billie got sick or- we needed you.”

“I said I was sorry!”

Mrs. Copeland stalked away, but Kit didn’t move to follow her this time, instead staying in her spot by the Copeland’s piano. Her eyes worked over Mr. Copeland for signs of stress, just as she was sure Elle and Gideon were doing.

It was a moment before he  addressed the agents. “What's being done to find my daughter?”

“We're assessing that right now,” Elle said calmly.

“She's been missing since yesterday! What the hell have you people been doing since then?!” Mr. Copeland exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

“Where have you been, Mr. Copeland?”

Gideon’s calm was a stark difference to Mr. Copeland’s frantic energy. The older man was sitting relaxed on the couch, not allowing any expression on his face. He held a calm that the Copelands couldn’t.

Bedside manor.

“Me?”

“Where were you all day and all night?”

Mr. Copeland came down to meet Gideon’s level, and Kit noticed that some of the tension ebbed away from him. There was distinctively less anger in the room.

“I have a cabin in Brandywine valley.”

“Police tried you there.”

“Well, maybe I was out at the time.”

“Billie tried your cell phone yesterday afternoon.”

“Well, I shut it off sometimes. I like the solitude.”

“You didn't fight your wife for custody of your daughter. But you...you like being in her life.”

Gideon was starting now, changing their game of verbal tennis. He was starting to move from gentle questions to ones that could give them information. Kit shifted her position, not moving any closer, but opening her stance so she could face Mr. Copeland directly. She needed to see every movement and facial expression if she was going to read him the way she wanted to.

“I want her to grow up in her home with her friends around,” Mr. Copeland said. “This is the only place she's ever lived.”

“So you love her very much.” Gideon assured, though his face showed small hints of accusation.

“Yes,” Mr. Copeland insisted.

“Why do you waste any precious time we have left?”

Kit and Elle exchanged a look. Elle’s eyes seemed to ask, “This could get ugly. Are you ready for that?” which Kit tried to not let offend her. Between Gideon and Mr. Copeland’s combatting emotions of calm and volatile, Mrs. Copeland upset and frustrated in the other room, and Elle’s not-so-secret surveying of Kit’s own emotional state, Kit had no time to feel put-off by Elle’s lack of faith in her. Big feelings could come after, but while Billie was still missing, nothing else mattered.

“You weren't at your cabin,” Gideon was saying. “You weren't at work or with friends. Police didn't call us until a little while ago because they thought your daughter might have been with you. That you might have taken your daughter.” Gideon stood. “Until you can give us a satisfactory accounting of your whereabouts from the time your daughter went missing until-”

Gideon stopped to laugh humorlessly for a moment before continuing. “Would you help me understand why a devoted father who talks to his daughter every night suddenly turns his phone off, disappears for almost twenty-four hours?”

“I was...busy,” was all Mr. Copeland gave.

Kit and Elle exchanged a look again, but this time neither was combative, or searching. Both women held confusion in her eyes.

“It's one thirty,” said Gideon. “You called your wife at eleven thirty, found out Billie was missing.”

“So?” Mr. Copeland asked.

“Well, Brandywine Valley's fifteen minutes away. Where were you, Mr. Copeland?”

“I-”

The feeling of guilt was sharp. Kit was used to that feeling. It radiated in hospitals when someone felt they were to blame, and even in the clinic when cadets had to bring in a friend after a drill-gone-wrong.

It was guilt that Mr. Copeland was giving off. Kit was sure of that, but she was also sure that it wasn’t the guilt of someone who had harmed someone else.

It was the guilt of someone who had bad news.

“I was at Sloane Kettering Hospital in New York City. Dr. Baylan Mahal is the head of Oncology. You can call him if you want.”

Kit let out a breath, her own chest dripping in the same sorrow Mr. Copeland felt. He was sick, again, and she would bet on her life he hadn’t told anyone yet. Now he was being forced to tell federal agents that didn’t know him, and who were, in some ways, accusing him of kidnapping his own daughter.

“I will,” Gideon said evenly. Mr. Copeland scoffed lightly and sat down in one of the living room chairs.

“Had a relapse?” was Gideon’s continuance. As if he had to ask. The answer was all over Mr. Copeland’s emotional output.

“It's in my lymph nodes now,” Mr. Copeland said. “There's nothing more they can-” The silence in the room was palpable as the rest of Mr. Copeland’s sentence hung in the air.  “Please find my daughter. Find my daughter.”

For a moment it looked like Gideon was going to offer comfort to the grieving, guilty father in front of him.

Instead, he turned to Kit, locking eyes with her for a moment before he dismissed her from the room, only saying, “Call Sloane Kettering.”

Kit did, and Mr. Copeland’s story was confirmed. He had an alibi, though Kit knew he hadn’t kidnapped Billie. Mr. Copeland loved his daughter, that much was incredibly obvious. And with a diagnosis like his? He wouldn’t want to waste any time he had left with her.

The team found themselves in the Wilmington Police Precinct. They were to give the profile they’d come up with to the officers and detectives working the case, which at that point was everyone they had.

Kit found a spot at the back of the room, perched on a desk, and watched with hawk eyes. She’d never seen them give a profile before, and she was admittedly eager to see the storied BAU in action.

“Billie Copeland has been missing twenty-two hours. It is vital that we locate her in the first twenty-four,” Gidion started.

“The unknown subject in this case is most likely a resident of one of the subdivisions around the park. We have cancelled the amber alert. We need to coordinate with all your officers to pull everyone off the street immediately,” Hotch said, and Kit was amazed by the way his voice didn’t give away any sense of confliction. He was sure of this profile, and he oozed confidence.

“That's crazy,” an officer challenged.

“Just hear me out,” Hotch said.

“But it goes against Carp procedure. You guys wrote the damn thing.” The officer continued.

Reid didn’t let him go any farther before he launched into an explanation.

“Carp is just a guideline for immediate response to child abduction. Believe it or not, we're already late in the game, and we do know enough about this unsub to know that if he feels like we're closing in on him at all, he will kill Billie to avoid detection. If anything, we need to lessen the pressure on him.”

There it was. The confident side of Reid. There was no hint of anxiety or social incompetence in him as he addressed the officers’ confusion or hesitance. He knew exactly what he was talking about, and there was no room for question.

“The man fits in 'cause nobody knows what he is,” Gideon continued evenly. “Can we really know our neighbors? He walks his dog. Does yard work. Solitary activities appeal to him, but if you watch closely, you'll see he pays a little too much attention to the neighborhood kids. Largely goes unnoticed because he isn't perceived as a threat.”

“He's a white male, in his late twenties to thirties,” Hotch picked up. “He has a menial or temporary job. Socially marginalized and frustrated. He relates better to kids than he does to adults.”

He’d made his way into the sea of officers, stopping near where Kit was. He caught her eye, and on instinct she nodded. As they’d been talking she’d been creating an image in her mind, the pieces falling into place. The man who’d taken Billie was out there, and this was his description. It all made sense. It was relieving to feel that way. If she’d felt lost, the spiral of ‘not-good-enough’ would only have tightened. Instead, it loosened, just slightly.

“This is not his first offense against children, but it is his first abduction,” Elle said, pulling her from her thoughts. It was the first time she’d spoken.

“How do you know that?” Detective Russet asked from her position that was relatively close to Kit.

“First-timers hunt closer to home. Experienced predators don't,” Elle explained.

“And,” Hotch added, crossing back to the front of the room. “He's had a recent stressor, a job loss or other setback. Unable to maintain a normal relationship, he'll have extensive pornographic materials in his home and on his computer. And while they won't all involve children, some of them definitely will.”

“Since he used the missing dog ruse and we believe him to be a regular fixture of the neighborhood. It's quite possible that he truly does own or did at one point own a dog named Candy. We recommend cross-checking veterinary records with residents in the neighborhood,” Reid said, sniffling as he did so. His eyebrows had drawn together, and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

Kit raised an eyebrow, suspicion settling into her heart. If she was the betting type, she would think that maybe the sniffler in the office over the last few days that seemed to grate at her skull was the good doctor himself.

Maybe he was just a habitual sniffler. Maybe not. Only time would tell.

“He will not inject himself into this investigation,” Hotch assured, and Kit wished for just one moment that she could keep a train of thought.

She desperately needed some coffee.

“Don't these guys like to know what the cops know?” Detective Russet asked.

“No, not this type of unsub. He's hiding. He doesn't know what anyone saw. He doesn't know if there's any information about him out there. He's unlikely to walk in, ask us... "Can I help you?" But I can guarantee you he will be watching the news. So how we handle them is very important,” Gideon said with conviction. There was no doubt in his voice.

“Check your canvass records,” Hotch said, “One of you may have had contact with him in the early stages.”

“What about registered sex offenders?” Russet offered.

“We've got somebody working on that right now.”

“Ok, ladies and gentlemen, everyone clear on that? Good luck. Thank you,” Gideon said with finality.

There was shuffling after that, everyone starting to move. They had two hours to find Billie, and damn it, they were going to find her alive.

-----

Kit and Elle went with the Copelands back to the house, hoping for a calm environment. Mr. Copeland fiddled with a pill box, annoyance and disbelief dripping off of him as he listened to Elle recount the step the investigation was taking.

“You took the police off the street?”

Elle explained it calmly, saying. “We believe your daughter was abducted by someone in the area and that she's probably still nearby.”

“Then shouldn't you be flooding the area with cops, knocking on doors?”

“It's not that simple,” Kit said gently, trying to deescalate the situation before it could escalate in the first place.

“Yes, it is,” Mr. Copeland shot back quickly.

“You're taking the meds again.” Mrs. Copeland sat down, staring with disbelief.

Mr. Copeland didn’t comment, instead saying, “Look... What exactly are you people doing to help get my daughter back?”

Mrs. Copeland didn’t let it go. “You're sick again, aren't you?”

“We want you to meet with the press…” Elle said before things could escalate.

“Both of you,” Kit added, training her eyes on one of the disheveled parents, and then the other.

Mr. Copeland was not impressed. “Press conference. That's what you have? You just said you're already taking the press that's running off the air.”

“We know,” Kit defended quickly, keeping her tone light. “This will be different.”

“Trust us, Mr. Copeland,” Elle asked.

The doorbell rang, and while Mrs. Copeland said she would answer it, Mr. Copeland stood instead.

“Just tell Marilyn what you need us to do,” he said.

It was quiet again before Mrs. Copeland addressed the two women.

“That was his second remission.”

“I'm sorry,” Elle said, and Kit nodded her agreement. Mrs. Copeland was defeated, and it showed in every way.

“Billie won't even talk to me anymore. How am I gonna tell her that her father's sick again?”

“One thing at a time, Mrs. Copeland. Once we find your daughter, you'll figure it out,” Kit said gently, placing a light hand on Mrs. Copeland’s shoulder.

All three women turned to the sound of Mr. Copeland opening the door and addressing whoever was outside.

“Can I help you?”

“Mr. Copeland, I'm Helen Godfrey from a few blocks away,” Kit heard the woman say. “I have printouts on all the sex offenders in the area. I think if you just... Look at any of these-”

Through the window, Mr. Copeland could be seen taking off towards his truck. Elle groaned quietly, moving towards the door as Kit quickly followed. There was a new tenseness in the air.

“What the hell? Mr. Copeland?” Elle darted out the door, Kit on her heels, “Mr. Copeland!”

The woman who had been at the door called to the agents’ backs as Mr. Copeland backed quickly from the driveway in his truck. “There are sex offenders in the area. I thought he should know.”

Kit and Elle turned quickly towards her, both women barring faces of annoyance that they didn’t even try to mask.

“Stupid.” Kit heard Elle say as she took her phone out.

She hit the speed dial for Hotch, something he’d programmed to her FBI phone on Monday, and made her voice even as the phone stopped ringing.

“Hotchner.”

“Hotch,” she said quickly, “We have a problem.”

“Mr. Jones isn't interested in pressing charges.”

The team, sans Kit, Reid, and Gideon, entered the room where the Copeland’s were being held. Kit was already there, sitting silently as Hotch and JJ tried to unravel the mess Mr. Copeland had made. Attacking a sex offender wasn’t the most horrible thing a person could do, but Mr. Copeland had still committed assault, and it hadn’t even been on the man that had taken Billie. The assurance that Mr. Jones wasn’t going to press charges allowed Kit to let out the breath she hadn’t quite realized she was holding.

Mr. Copeland was clearly not as relieved. “Am I supposed to be grateful? The bastard’s a pedophile.”

“No,” Hotch said seriously, “he isn't.”

“Did you check up on him?” Mr. Copeland came back with, glancing around at the other members of the team. “Did you ever search his house?”

“His sex offense was soliciting a prostitute. It had nothing to do with children,” Morgan assured from the doorway.

“But he's registered on-”

“Mr. Copeland, there are a lot of ways to get on that list. That's why accessing that type of information is supposed to be left up to law enforcement.”

Mr. Copeland ran a hand down his face and started to walk away, but Hotch didn’t stop. “We understand your frustration and your anger, but you're jeopardizing our efforts to save your daughter's life. Every minute spent chasing you is time we're not spending on Billie. So either get control of yourself and follow our directions or stay out of our way.”

There was a moment that Kit worried someone was going to explode. The tense energy in the air between Hotch and Mr. Copeland was palpable, and the rest of the team didn’t have to be empathic to feel what Kit was feeling.

Thankfully Mr. Copeland stayed quiet. Instead it was Mrs. Copeland that asked, “What would you like us to do?”

JJ spoke up for the first time, the women having let Morgan and Hotch address Mr. Copeland.

“Make a public appeal for information regarding a witness driving a dark green SUV.”

“Isn't he supposed to be the suspect?” Came Mr. Copeland’s voice.

“Yes, but when people hear ‘suspect,’ they can't see the guy next door as a monster,” Hotch took back over. “They can't imagine their neighbor could do something like this.”

“If he's a witness, he might be a hero,” Elle added.

Mrs. Copeland wasn’t clearly not convinced.

“Okay, but what if he thinks it's a trick? What if he panics or thinks it's too risky, and then he-”

“It's not just him that you'll be speaking to. It's his neighbors as well,” JJ said.

Mrs. Copeland looked at Kit, who had been silently taking in and noting the emotional output of each individual person in the room. No one felt hostile anymore, at least for the moment. Ms. Copeland looked at her with eyes of desperation.

Kit cleared her throat and nodded in agreement with JJ, Hotch, and Elle.

“People like to see the best in other people. You want to believe your neighbors are good, just like you’d want them to believe the same of you.”

She nodded once, moving her eyes when Morgan spoke.

“We've done everything we can to relieve the pressure on this man. We've taken the cops off the street. You won't have any standing with you on the dais. Only a local minister.”

“Hearing he isn't a suspect might calm him down as well. Right now he's under enormous stress, and we need him to believe, even if it's just for a little while, that we're way off the mark. That we're not close to arresting him,” Hotch assured softly. His voice, and his own frustration, had calmed greatly. Kit tilted her head as she watched him speak.

He is so much softer with her than he is Mr. Copeland. Why is that? Not that I’d ever ask him.

“Are you? Close to arresting him?” Mr. Copeland asked. The smallest wave of hope settled over the room.

“We need the public's help,” Hotch said simply. His voice carried the same calm he had offered Mrs. Copeland, and Kit had to physically stop herself from smiling.

Hotch was a stern man, and he was absolutely a believer in the justice system. If they did everything right, things would work. Mr. Copeland not sticking to the script had clearly annoyed and frustrated him. However, in that moment, he let Mr. Copeland see past that. He genuinely believed what he was saying, and Mr. Copeland needed that reassurance.

The Copelands agreed to the press conference. JJ led them to the front, cameras and reporters everywhere. Kit had left them to stand in the back, and she wasn’t surprised when Hotch took a place next to her, crossing his arms, lips in a hard line.

Kit had no idea how long these cases usually lasted, or what led them to create the profile they had. When she’d heard it all the pieces had made sense, but how they’d gotten there stumped her. She couldn’t understand what would lead a person to kidnap a little girl. Hotch did. Morgan and Reid did. Gideon certainly did, and Elle clearly had a grasp of it, too. Even JJ, who Kit knew was their communications liaison and was very much not a profiler, seemed to understand what was going on before she could. It didn’t bother her, per say, but the competitive pull she’d felt on the track with Morgan was creeping up her neck.

She didn’t let it show. Not like she had on the plane. Kit wasn’t going to lose control again, not in front of these people. Not in front of Hotch. He’d said she was the best for the job, and she was going to prove it.

He looked stern again, and if she wasn’t paying attention, she would have missed the anxious twitch in his jaw. Hotch was worried. Was it the Copelands? The fact that they weren’t as close as they wanted to be to catching Billie? Was it Mr. Copeland continuously flying off the handle?

Kit took a breath before she leaned over to Hotch, looking up and getting on her tiptoes so she could speak as quietly as possible.

“None of these reporters feel hostile to me…” She bit down on her lip, worrying at the end of her braid.

Hotch looked down and raised an eyebrow, glancing back to the crowd of reporters.

“But?” he asked quietly,

Kit swallowed and took a breath before speaking quietly, saying, “But there’s a… terseness. There’s a lot of people in here, so I’m not sure exactly who it is, but someone has something up their sleeve.”

“Who told you?”

“No one, sir. I can feel it. It’s not malicious, but it’s… something. There’s something.”

She lowered back from her toes, not missing the peak of curiosity as Reid glanced over to them. He had his eyebrows pulled together, arms crossed over himself not in the way Hotch had, but in a defensive position. She watched as he sniffled once before turning his eyes back to Mr. and Mrs. Copeland, both now pleading for their daughter.

Kit was waiting for the shoe to drop. Waiting for whoever it was that had the ace up their sleeve.

In the end, it was Hal, the reporter JJ knew from her vague past.

“So the body located by police earlier today is not Billie's?”

“Damn it,” Hotch breathed, staring at Mr. Copeland as his face changed to one of frenetic confusion.

“What?”

The atmosphere in the room had shifted suddenly.

“The female body-” the reporter was fast to continue.

JJ was faster.

“There'll be no more questions. Thank you.” Her words didn’t give away to any disagreement, and Mr. and Mrs. Copeland were led away.

Kit moved without thinking, meeting the grieving and confused parents by the door.

“What body?” Mrs. Copeland said desperately, looking at Kit like she was a lifeline. Fear and grief and desperation were rolling over Kit now, but she kept her face even and her voice calm. There wasn’t word on the body yet. It hadn’t been identified. There was a chance, and Kit was going to cling to that with everything she had.

“Agent Colghain, what are they talking about?”

“Please, Mr. and Mrs. Copeland. Please come with me and someone will answer every question to the best of their ability.”

She could feel Elle and Morgan right on the parents’ heels as she led them from the room.

Damage control is not the control we were going for, but here we are.

She hadn't led them far into the bullpen of the precinct before the desperation turned to anger.

“Is there a body?” rang Mr. Copeland’s voice.

Elle tried to deflect for the both of them, but Kit knew his anger was directed everywhere. “Please just come with me.”

“Tell me right now-” said Mrs. Copeland, “did you find a body?”

“Mrs. Copeland-” Morgan tried.

“Did you find Billie? Is my daughter dead?”

“A body was discovered,” came Hotch’s voice from the doorway, walking swiftly to the rescue. Kit desperately hoped he would give them more, but as it turned out, he didn’t have to.

“It's not Billie.”

The voice belonged to none other than Jason Gideon, and Kit had never been happier to see the man. She didn’t remember a time she’d ever been happy to see him at all.

There’s a first time for everything.

“The body that was found was much older and has been dead a number of days. Looks like maybe a junkie or an overdose.” His voice was even, matching even Hotch, and Kit could see Morgan and Elle physically relax into the news that the eleven year old was, as far as they knew, still alive.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Copeland asked desperately.

“Yes, I saw the body myself. It's not your daughter.”

Mrs. Copeland began to unravel. “My god, I can't- I can't…” She was beginning to cry, and Kit could feel the impending breakdown. She moved to intercept the haggard woman, but Elle beat her to it.

“Please just come with me,” the veteran agent said gently. She led Mrs. Copeland away, and Mr. Copeland followed quickly behind.

Gideon’s frustration was downplayed, but obvious.

“What the hell was that about?”

“A report asked them about the body,” Morgan supplied.

“Probably heard it on the scanner,” Hotch added, letting his tone slip into dejection.

The overall morale of the team was slipping, Kit could feel it, and with it her own. She knew that time was running out. She knew the statistics - Reid had told them to her at least three more times since the case had started. She knew how parents reacted when their child was gone, really gone, and there was no end in sight. She’d witnessed it and felt it with them.

“I should have prepared them for that,” JJ said, and she sounded guilty.

“We don't have anything to tell them yet.” Gideon’s voice sounded like he thought everyone was being dramatic, looking around at them with the eyes of a general watching his soldiers give up the war.

“Billie's running out of time,” Reid said, stating the obvious to them. He sounded almost as desperate as they all felt.

Kit couldn’t stop herself before she said, “So are the parents.” Her eyes met with Gideon's, and she felt the annoyance that came as he locked his eyes with hers. He broke and looked around at the rest of them before turning and moving. His voice came over his shoulder, and the six of them followed in his wake as he said, “Come on. A little hope, huh? We'll make it. We’ll make it.”

Kit found herself back in the office with Elle. They sat with Mrs. and Mr. Copeland while the others went to look through canvas records, or in JJ’s case, keep tabs on the media. Neither parent had spoken, and while Mrs. Copeland cried, Kit let herself become lost in thought. Her fingers were drumming along her pant leg again, which she figured was better than her leg bouncing a million miles a minute. She’d gotten some coffee earlier, but she needed more caffeine.

She let herself drift back to Gideon. Did she annoy him as much as it seemed she did, or was he just projecting because of the frustration of the case?

He probably just hates me. Hotch mentioned it might take them some time, and clearly Gideon is close with Reid, but he didn’t seem to be too close to everyone else. Maybe that’s just how he is.

Or, said the other voice in her head, maybe he sees right through you. You showed them on the plane. You try to be calm, and together, and not let the emotions overwhelm you. But they do. He can probably see it in your eyes, just like Mam and Dad always did.

“Oh, my god. Billie…” Mrs. Copeland’s quiet cries shook her from her thoughts, and Elle’s response beside her left her nodding her head.

“You have to be strong now. You have to.”

“Don’t let yourself think of anything bad. Let yourself hope,” Kit continued, and she saw Elle nod her head in agreement.

The door to the office opened, and it was Gideon that walked in.

“How we doing?” he asked once he sat in a chair facing the Copelands.

“All her life…” Mr. Copeland said, voice breaking. “When my little girl needed help, she came to me. And now, when she needs me most... There's...nothing.”

He stood up quickly, opening the door and walking out. Kit got up to follow, but Gideon shot her a look of warning. He shook his head, standing up himself.

“Stay,” he said, and he walked out the door to follow Mr. Copeland.

Kit could feel the hot blush crawl up her neck, and she tightened her hands into fists before she stood up.

“Kit-” Elle started, but Kit didn’t quite look at her.

“I’ll be right back,” she said calmly.

“But Gideon-”

“I need some water.” Kit turned to face the other two women, and she could feel the apprehension coming off Elle easily. “Do you need anything, Mrs. Copeland?”

The mother shook her head, wiping at her tears, and Kit took that as her cue to slip out the door behind Gideon. She pulled the door shut and easily found Gideon and Mr. Copeland. They were by the water fountain, speaking in hushed tones, and Kit found herself standing and staring at them. If Gideon didn’t trust her, that was fine.

No, it isn’t.

She would get over it. She would prove herself. She wasn’t a profiler, not like they were, but she knew people. Being there for people, handling people, reading people, that was half the reason she was even there.

Being told to stay, like a dog, was certainly not.

-----

“Colghain, let’s go.”

Hotch’s stern voice gave no room for question. Kit was standing by the water fountain now, telling herself just to drink some water. She didn’t need any coffee. At least, not any more than she’d already drank that day.

“Go where, sir?” She asked, though she had already fallen into step with him. Gideon was ahead of them, and she almost let her shoulders sag when she saw that he was pushing the doors open and quickly climbing into the passenger seat of one of their black SUVs.

“Morgan and Reid think they found our unsub, and if that’s true, you need to be with us.”

They might have found Billie. This could be a takedown.

Kit’s hand floated to where her gun was strapped to her belt and nodded quickly. This was the other half of her job. Make sure no one got hurt, check over victims, and if necessary, use her weapon to ensure the safety of her team and, in this case, Billie Copeland.

She climbed into the back seat, lower lip between her teeth and she took a breath. It was times like these she never had to worry about fidgeting, or becoming distracted, or excess energy. Adrenaline ruled the field, and her body was completely still while Hotch drove them to meet Morgan and Reid.

“Third house down on the right. We knocked on the door, but nobody's answering,” Morgan said as soon as they walked up. Reid finished the thought.

“His neighbor said he's definitely in there.”

“He's got a green Ford Explorer in the garage.”

“Break down the door,” Gideon said simply, and Kit could feel her eyebrows pull together as she stood on his right side.

“No,” Detective Russet said, “We don't have probable cause.”

Morgan was having none of it. “He's got a green SUV. He had a dog that died recently. He spends time in the park.”

“He’s pretending he's not home,” Hotch finished.

Russet continued her disagreement. “None of which are illegal. No judge is going to sign a warrant based on that information.”

“You're weighing the life of a child against the price of a door?” Gideon said, appalled, gesturing towards the possibly unsub’s house.

“I'm weighing the law against the price of a door.”

“The girl's in the house right now. The longer we stand here, the longer he has to finish her off.”

“I'll call a judge. If we go in there without a warrant, all that evidence will get thrown-”

Hotch cut Russet off as she dialed on her cell phone. “We're aware of the rules of evidence.”

“What do you propose that we do?” Kit asked seriously, her words directed towards Detective Russet. She had to make sure Russet felt heard and respected, or else the precinct could complain, and it would assuredly be her fault. Not that she agreed with Russet at all.

Her adrenaline was already pumping, just like she could feel from Gideon and the others. Everyone was ready, but Detective Russet was simply continuing to cite protocol.

“We tow his car, we impound it, and we search it-”

“Gideon!” Morgan called.

Kit hadn’t even realized Gideon had left her side and was running across the street towards the unsub’s house. They all followed quickly, Kit glad she wasn’t wearing heels like she’d seen JJ in. The one thing she’d told Monty she wouldn’t compromise were her black sneakers, and she’d never been more happy to disagree with Monty than she was as she ran down the street.

“Gideon, wait a minute! Gideon!” Morgan still called after him.

Kit, Reid, and Morgan had stopped in front of the house. Hotch was right on their heels. Gideon had grabbed a flower pot and was using it to smash the window of the house.

He was frantic. Kit could easily feel the frenetic energy coming off of him over the adrenaline the rest of them were sharing.

“Gideon, you need-”

Morgan stopped yelling as Gideon climbed through the window. There was a moment where no one moved, but then Morgan was yelling and kicking in the front door with practiced ease.

“Federal agents!”

“FBI!” Hotch yelled, and both men entered with their guns drawn.

It would have seemed Kit had done it a million times, not just five or six. She acted on instinct and training as she drew her own gun, position automatic and confident. She turned away from where the men had gone, clearing another part of the house.

She held her gun aloft as she checked the kitchen, calling once she had secured the area. No sign of the unsub.

“Clear!”

The next sound she heard was Gideon yell, and she moved towards the sound without a second thought. She came through the hallway just as Reid did, his own gun in hand, to see Morgan, Hotch, and then Gideon.

Gideon had his gun trained on the forehead of a terrified looking white man in his late twenties to thirties. Just like Hotch had said.

“Where's Billie Copeland?” Gideon was saying.

“Please don't hurt me,” the man stuttered, his panic washing over Kit. It didn’t affect her in the slightest. Her adrenaline ruled now.

“Gideon…” Morgan warned as Gideon cocked his gun, nearly pressing it against the man’s head.

“Please! Please put the gun down,” the man pleaded.

“Gideon!” Morgan tried again.

The unsub came flying towards Morgan, Gideon having thrown him down the hall.

“Get him out of here!” he nearly growled.

Morgan caught him with ease by the back of his shirt, dragging him down the hallway as Gideon called behind him loudly. “Tear the place apart!”

They tore the place apart. There was no sign of Billie. Hotch had moved outside, but Reid, Morgan, and Kit were all searching in what they assumed was the office of Curtis, the unsub. Reid had taken the computer, which Kit was more than okay with. Technology wasn’t something that came incredibly easy to her, and while she could do anything she needed to in the clinic, she wasn’t going to try going through the computer of a child abductor.

Morgan had taken on the task of going through Curtis’s VHS tapes. When she saw the first child she turned away, blocking the image and sound out of her consciousness.

She’d taken on the bookshelf. Her hands trailed along the spines, opening books, looking between them. Anything could be a clue as to where Curtis was holding Billie.

Kit didn’t even realize that Gideon had come in until Reid started speaking.

“Just as we expected, he has an extensive collective of deviant photos and cartoon downloads.”

“Partitioned in separate folders?” Gideon guessed, and Reid hummed in affirmation. “Access the internet history. Identify any pornographic sites, shut 'em down.”

“I'm uploading to Garcia as we speak,” Reid assured.

Kit had continued to work on the books, using her hyperfocus to her benefit. There was a moment of quiet before Gideon came on the other side of the bookshelf, pulling books down onto the floor without caring where they went.

He hadn’t touched the computer, or went to move Morgan’s tapes.

Does he really not trust me to look through these books?

She turned to look at him, eyes probably giving her away. Ari sometimes called them her “little green lasers” when they were directed his way.

He caught her eye, furrowing his brows before looking down and addressing Morgan.

“What is it? Is it all porn?”

“It's a lot of home movies with a bunch of kids in it. This one-you need to see it.”

Kit braced herself for the video when Morgan slid in the tape. Her focus was broken now, and she could block out the horrible sound she heard as the tape started.

It was Curtis’s voice, saying, “Shh. Remember what I'll do if you tell.”

She moved away from the bookshelf without a second though, walking out of the room without a word. Not one of the three men stopped her.

Hotch was outside, staring at the cop car Curtis was sitting in. Kit came alongside him, planting her feet as her hands fell into their normal rhythm. The adrenaline was ebbing now, and the jittering energy was coming back to her.

They stood in silence for a moment before Hotch spoke.

“Did you watch the tapes?”

She nodded lightly, not looking up at him. Hotch didn’t light a fire inside her like Gideon did. She wanted to prove herself to Hotch because he seemed to believe in her, even if just a little bit. She wanted to prove herself to Gideon so he would stop looking at her like she was trouble. Like she was there to get in their way.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Child pornography. His voice is in them, Hotch. He filmed those kids himself.”

Hotch was silent for a moment before he said, “And the computer?”

“Reid said it’s the same. Child pornography. Every bit of it.”

“Walk with me.”

Hotch started for the cop car, and she scurried after him. She was significantly shorter than the rest of the team, and it took her almost two steps for each of his long strides.

Hotch leaned against the cop car, speaking to Curtis through the open window.

“Your tapes, your computer, are full of child pornography.”

Kit hung back a step, watching Hotch talk to him clinically.

She could do clinically.

“Do you guys have a warrant?” Curtis asked, “I didn't see a warrant.”

“You're going to prison. Right now for how long is up to you. It's in your best interest to help us,” Hotch said, not addressing the fact that they very much did not have a warrant.

“I want a lawyer.”

I dtigh diabhail.

Kit knew the law. She’d listened to their older sister Ginny rattle off a million laws and rules when she was preparing to take the Bar. Curtis lawyering up? That was bad for them.

Hotch took it in stride. “Then we won't be able to talk to you anymore. We won't hear your side of the story, and we won't get Billie Copeland back to her parents. Now, you can help us.”

Kit could see what he was doing. If they could appeal to his human side, maybe he would help them. Maybe he would understand.

“You can save her life. You can save their whole family, their whole world,” she said gently, poking a bit around Hotch. She didn’t let her absolute hate for the man in front of her show. She gave him the same gentle look she would a patient. The same soft voice and understanding tone.

He was sick. Just not a sickness she’d ever treated.

“Make it right,” Hotch said.

Curtis was quiet. Tears streamed down his face.

“Can you close the door?” He said finally. He looked straight ahead. “It's cold.”

Hotch slammed the door shut on Curtis and took back off for the front door, Kit right at his heels. She could feel the absolute annoyance Hotch had coursing through his veins, and she couldn't stop herself from feeding into it.

She had really wanted it to work. She had wanted Curtis to choose to be good. To choose compassion. To choose to be a good person, like she truly believed anyone could choose to be.

“Curtis lawyered up,” Hotch said as they came in the door. Detective Russet and Gideon were in the living room.

Russet didn’t even try to show surprise.

“Of course he did.”

“That's the first smart thing he's done,” Gideon said, and annoyingly, Kit couldn’t disagree.

Hotch continued. “We broke into his house, and without Billie, we don't have the exigent circumstances we need to make this stick.”

Kit understood what that meant. They hadn’t had a warrant, after all.

“We may have to let him go,” she said, and she didn’t miss the look in Gideon’s eyes.

“I told you we should have waited,” Russet said.

“Yes, I know. We made a call, and if there are any recriminations, we will take full responsibility-”

“Hotch,” Gideon said, effectively cutting Hotch off. It seemed like he might be smiling. “He's the man.”

“Jason,” Hotch acquiesced, “I agree, but we may have been overly hasty.”

“Hasty?” Russet said, looking between the three agents, “You know as well as I do unless we actually find him in this house, any evidence we find is fruit of the poison tree.”

Kit watched as Gideon leaned forward, eyes fixed on a broom sitting against the wall. He stood up and walked for it, picking it up and touching the bristles.

Gideon pulled something while and thready off of the end of the bristles, eyes transfixed on it before he looked up at Hotch and said quietly, “Insulation.”

He walked quickly down the hall, his eyes scanning the ceiling. Kit, Hotch, and Russet were right behind him, and the grate at the end of the hall caught Kit’s eyes just as Gideon said, “There it is. Hotch, get me up here.”

Hotch grabbed a chair from a nearby room quickly, handing it over to Gideon.

“Here.”

Gideon didn’t waste time getting on the chair, pulling at the tabs on the grate until it opened.

“Up.”

Hotch nodded, not that Gideon could see him. Adrenaline was racing again, and everyone was focused on the hole in the ceiling now.

“Go. Go,” Hotch said.

Gideon did just that, hoisting himself into the ceiling. There was a moment before they heard him from above.

“She's here.”

Kit turned to look at Hotch for a moment before she called up to Gideon.

“Don’t move her!”

“Don’t move her?” Hotch said incredulously.

Kit’s eyes went sharp, she repeated her call.

“Don’t move her, Gideon! Don’t even think about it!”

“I’m bringing her down,” Gideon’s harsh voice came, and Kit turned, her voice loud and leaving no room for discussion.

“Stop! Do not move her, Gideon.”

“Colghain-”

“She could be hurt, Hotch. She’s got a broken arm, and she’s been held nearly twenty four hours by a pedophile. And she’s in the ceiling.” She gestured to the ceiling, and then to the small medical pack strapped to her belt, near her gun holster. “I was given this position to do two things. Emotional control and medical intervention.”

She let her eyes bore into his, giving every bit of conviction she could to her voice. “Get me up there, and let me do my job.”

There was a moment of silent standoff before Hotch’s eyes gave way. He glanced for the ceiling and said, “Jason, don’t move the girl. I’m sending up Colghain.”

“Hotch!”

“Don’t move.”

Kit got up on the chair, allowing Hotch to grab one before he grabbed her by the waist and helped her into the hole in the ceiling. There was no way she would have been able to reach on her own, and she was thankful that Hotch had hoisted her without her having to ask.

When she was safely in the small space, she noted Gideon’s hateful look. Annoyance and frustration came straight for her, but she pushed them to the side of her mind. She had literally no time to feel bad about the way Jason Gideon felt about her. All her focus was on Billie.

“Hi Billie,” she said gently, “my name is Kit. I’m a nurse. I’d love for Jason to be able to take you down from here, but I have to make sure you’re alright to move first. Is that okay?”

Billie had tear tracks down her face, and her mouth was red around the corners. She looked from Gideon to Kit before nodding, and Kit went to work quickly.

“Was there something in your mouth, honey?”

“A shirt. It was really tight,” Billie said quietly.

Kit brushed some of her tears away with her thumb before quickly checking her over.

“You’re being so brave, a leanbh,” she said gently, the Gaelic phrase slipping from her tongue without notice. It was only a few moments before she nodded, giving the little girl a smile.

“Okay, does anything hurt?”

“Not except my mouth.”

“What about your arm? Does it hurt?”

Billie shook her head, then stopped and nodded just slightly.

“A little bit. I broke it last week.”

Kit nodded, moving her elbow to check for range. She spoke quietly, a small smile on her lips.

“My sister broke her arm when we were ten. She had a pink cast just like this.”

Billie smiled, just a bit, and said, “Pink is my favorite.”

“Yeah?” Kit asked, satisfied with her range and ready to let Gideon take her. “That’s Monty’s favorite too. Let’s go see your mam and dad, huh?” she said finally, and Billie nodded.

Kit backed off, allowing Gideon to move into a position to help pick her up.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said to Billie. He handed her a small fluffy ball from his pocket. “I took that for luck. Let's bring it back to where it belongs, ok? Let's go see your mommy and daddy.” He moved her to where the opening in the ceiling was, calling down.

“Hotch! Here she comes. Here you go, sweetie. Watch your arm. Watch your arm.”

Once Billie was placed through the hole safely, Gideon turned on Kit. There was something in the air that she couldn’t place, but she let herself make eye contact with him. He wasn’t going to intimidate her, no matter how much everyone else respected him. He was a great profiler, and it was clear that he cared deeply about their cases, but she wasn’t going to let him stop her from doing her job.

It was quiet for a moment before he said simply.

“It’s in your eyes.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Not all the time. Not with the victims. Not with local law. Hell, not even with the team, most of the time,” he continued.

Kit didn’t move.

“What’s in my eyes, sir?”

Gideon shrugged, full eye contact unwavering.

“There’s trouble in your eyes, Agent Colghain.”

Kit took a moment before she nodded.

She was calm, and collected. Some would have said shy. Gideon saw right through her, and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of something deep seeded tugging in her chest. She finally chose to say, “That’s what my dad always said, sir.”

“As a compliment?”

“Are you giving me a compliment?”

A beat.

“No.”

She nodded once and shimmied to the opening in the ceiling. She looked over her shoulder at him quickly before responding honestly just before dropping through the hole.

“He wasn’t either.”

-----

They left the precinct quickly, but not before Mrs. Copeland had nearly crushed them all with hugs, including a very uncomfortable Reid. They’d left on a good note with Detective Russet, and Kit was confident they would not receive a negative review for the bureau to hold over her head.

The sun was down when they got to the jet, and everyone found a seat quickly. Reid, Morgan, JJ, and Hotch had sat at seats with tables between them while Gideon and Elle had taken two couches that faced one another. Kit didn’t want to intrude, so she walked to the back of the jet and settled herself in the corner of the farthest couch. She pulled her red notebook out of her backpack with a pen, having wanted to make some notes about the team for her own records. The more she knew about them, the better she could protect them, after all.

It wasn’t long before they were playing poker, using what Kit guessed were either Goldfish crackers or tiny pretzels as their chips. She didn’t think about the fact that they were all touching and then subsequently eating all the snack pieces, but she did note that Reid had continued to sniffle steadily through their time in Wilmington.

Maybe it was habitual. She made a note of it.

“I got absolutely nothing,” Morgan said in defeat, putting his cards out.

“Aw, nothing,” JJ agreed, putting her own cards down.

Kit suppressed her want to giggle, fiddling her pen and watching them with a grin. With their guards down and a successful case, the BAU team seemed almost human. They were playing and joking, and even Hotch seemed to be more relaxed than she’d seen him in her short time with the BAU.

Reid was looking guilty, but there was a grin on his lips, “Sss… two pair... Of aces,” he said, a playful smirk morphing onto his face.

It was the most human Kit had seen him act, and it was nice to see that he wasn’t just an awkward robot person. The feeling she pulled from him was safety, and that’s how he looked. He felt safe with his team, and with her away from them, not intruding, he was allowed to feel safe.

“Oh, get outta town! Why you always winning? Nuh-uh!” Morgan was laughing as he berated Reid.

“'Cause he cheats,” JJ interjected, and Reid shook his head.

“Poker?” He started to explain, “It's mathematics, it's statistics-”

“He's from Vegas,” Hotch finished.

Morgan laughed, “House rules.”

Reid nodded, looking slightly guilty, “There's that, too.”

They continued to play, restarting and reshuffling. Kit looked on still, reveling in the positive emotions that were filling the jet. There’d been so much frustration and worry over the last half of this day. She couldn’t believe that morning she’d gone into work at Quantico. Or that it was just the day before she and Morgan had accidentally met at the track.

My entire world has changed in a matter of hours.

She couldn’t wait to tell whoever was home when she got there. She’d have to take the metro home, but she didn’t mind. The energy in the room filled her, and she could let herself feel tired when she collapsed into her bed.

“Hey, Hotch,” Gideon said, and Kit had almost forgotten he was there. She wished she’d kept her fantasy.

“Yeah?”

“Did you send flowers to that tech room girl... Garcia… and say they were from me?”

Kit’s eyebrows raised, as did Morgan’s.

Hotch nodded, saying “Yeah,” as if it wasn’t going to confuse everyone in the jet.

“Why?”

Now Kit wasn’t the only one watching. Everyone was listening to Hotch and Gideon’s conversation.

“Jason, people need to know that they're important, and sometimes you forget that.”

His eyes darted, just for a moment, to Kit. They darted back to Gideon just as quickly, and Kit was thankful no one could see the blush spreading up her neck and across her face. The embarrassment she felt was all her own, and she took solace in the fact that her embarrassment, and her conversation with Gideon in the ceiling, was unknown to the others.

“I already sent her a gift,” Gideon said, “An mp3 player. They last longer. Unless you drop them or the battery dies, whichever comes first.”

“So she got two gifts,” Hotch said, sounding a bit strained.

“What if she thinks I'm sweet on her?”

Looks were exchanged between the team, and JJ even glanced at Kit, the two women sharing a smile and a laugh before Gideon shrugged and said, “Maybe not.”

They’d deplaned and gotten back to the BAU quickly, everyone grabbing the things they’d left. Kit snagged her thermos off of her desk, dreading cleaning out any coffee left in the bottom. Hotch told them he’d see them in the morning, and that they could finish their paperwork then. He assured Kit she could do the post-case paperwork and send it up on her break the next day, and that she could do her BAU-liaison paperwork on Friday.

She didn’t complain, and left just after Morgan. Gideon and Reid were still there, and she really didn’t want to be caught by Gideon and watch Reid take his side. Their relationship wasn’t lost on her, and she could tell Reid would take his side in an instant. Not that there were sides to take. Kit wasn’t going to argue with the BAU veteran. She would just prove him wrong.

Kit gripped the strap of her backpack as she stood at the metro stop. Trains came further apart at night, and the next one would take at least five minutes. She wondered if she would get home before Ari left for the clinic, but she wasn’t hopeful. He liked to go early and make sure Monty did her paperwork, which she always did, but that was just Ari. That was how he’d always been, and the girls loved him for it. The truest “type-A first born” of all time, Arizona Colghain.

She passed the time by trying to put her thermos in the side pocket of her backpack without having to take the backpack off, but it took only two minutes for her to drop it down to the pavement.

“An bhfuil tú ag magadh?” She mumbled to herself, desperately not wanting to bend down and pick up her thermos. Before she could, though, it was being thrust at her.

She blinked, reaching out for it and looking up into the eyes of a very tall stranger.

Or, a very tall Spencer Reid.

“Oh,” she said simply. “It’s you.”

Reid shrugged awkwardly, allowing her to take the thermos. He shoved his hands in his pockets, clearly not sure what to do now.

“Thanks,” she added, dread settling. What the hell was she doing on her metro platform? She’d never seen him before, not once, so there was no way he was taking the train.

“What language is that?” He said suddenly, and she blinked at him.

“What?”

“The language. When you dropped the cup, you, ah-” He moved a hand to rub at the back of his neck, sniffling softly. “You, well, you said something and it wasn’t in English.”

Kit looked up at him for a moment before she tilted her head. He was very clearly uncomfortable, and she wanted to make it lessen, but she was guarded. Who knew if he was on recognizance for Gideon or something.

Maybe he’s trying to find cracks. Gideon said my eyes held trouble, what if he’s sending Reid after me to find it?

She also hadn’t realized she’d spoken in the first place, and she was letting him shift more and more as she left his question unanswered. His fingers flicked in front of him before he shoved them back into his pockets, rocking back and forth just so, sniffling again and driving her crazy by doing so.

“I said something?” she decided on.

“Yes.”

“What did I say?”

“An bhfuil tú ag magadh,” he said fluidly. His accent wasn’t horrible, and he’d hit all of the sounds.

Kit couldn’t mask her surprise. “That was really good.”

“Thanks,” he said, shifting on the spot. “What does it mean?”

“I said, ‘are you joking.’ You know, because I dropped my cup.”

Silence settled over them again, and Kit thought for a moment that she was experiencing whiplash. Just hours ago he was clinical and confident. In some ways, she’d thought he sounded cocky, or a little full of his own brain. Now he was socially incompetent?

I could have been wrong. This was my first case, maybe that’s what things look like on a case. We haven’t really interacted outside of the office. Really the only one I’ve seen outside of work hours is Morgan. Maybe -

“Did you know that 48.2% of Americans speak a second language at home? The most commonly spoken languages are Spanish, with 41 million speakers, Chinese with 3.5 million, and Tagalog, the national language of the Philippines, with 1.7 million speakers in the United States. Actually-”

Kit refused to cut him off, mostly because she didn’t cut anyone off. It was rude. But the transition between horribly awkward silence to Reid now going on and on like he had on the jet confused her. Was he social, or not?

She didn’t have to think about it for very long, not that she had a lot more to give. She was feeling more and more exhausted by the minute, and she sighed in relief when the redline rolled to a stop in front of them. Reid stopped talking, hazel eyes watching her green ones as she connected their gaze. She could tell it made him uncomfortable, to be making eye contact, so she didn’t let it last.

“This is my train. See you Friday, I guess.”

She walked onto the train without a second thought, turning and offering an awkward wave over her shoulder. “Thanks again for saving my thermos.”

He gave a small wave as well, walking away from the door of the train.

Kit sighed and sat down in one of the empty seats, shoving her thermos in her bag and placing her head in her hands.

What the hell was that about?

#Brenna writes things #or at least she tries #Second Child Restless Child #SCRC #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #gaelic #OC #female OC #BAU

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 9

Files, files, and more files. Billy and I worked through box after box as the days passed. We filled one notepad each, and then a second. We were on the third book each, and still have four boxes left. The dead files, as I called them internally, weren’t of much use other than to show how many babies, children, and adults died for Vought’s urge to create supes. The successful, but whereabouts unknown boxes were helpful in the sense that they offered the scope of how many supes were in mingling in the world without any way to trace them, but none of the files we’d gone through so far had proven fruitful in the quest to name our unknown spree killer.

The other files were successful and whereabouts known, and they were even less helpful. The names we’d found were ones that were easily verified. Through the supe pageants and Vought’s countrywide placement of supes in each state. Even without the chips that The Seven were given, and the other placed supes, the others tended to be known simply because a great deal of them craved attention.

I moved to open the next box, but Billy stopped me. “We’re not working through lunch, Ronnie.” He pulled me to my feet and smiled down at me. “Here or-” Shrugging to show that I didn’t have a preference he smiled. “Out, then.”

I was slipping into my shoes, rolling my eyes at his gaze focused on my toenails again. They were pale pink, I’d tried clear, white, purple, so I was giving this ‘natural’ one a try. So far, nothing forced his attention away. “I swear to God, one day I’ll find a color to make them boring to you.” He was chuckling as he led me to his car.

 Over the course of our work, and our mealtimes, we took turns picking the take out or restaurants. Today was Billy’s turn and he pulled into a diner that may have made my mother pause and grab some sanitizer. I’d been here before, so I knew that looks were deceiving, because they had the best burgers in the city. And the fries? Don’t get me started.

Tucking into our meals, because I swear the owner could see us coming a mile away and it took no time to get our orders, Billy brought up a subject I’d just as soon forget.

“How many days til you go up on the block?” His eyes, as always, were locked on me. I groaned, and took a long drink.

“Three,” the auction was on Saturday. And trust me, I’d tried everything to get out of it, including calling the club and threatening to cancel my membership. Didn’t work, since the very smug and condescending woman who answered informed me that my parents paid my membership fees and would never stop. Fuck. “Hey,” I brightened up and smiled. “Why don’t you ‘accidentally’ shoot me?”

He snorted and spit a little of his own drink out thanks to my idea. “You always do that when I’m eating or drinking, Ronnie.” I handed him some napkins and he shook his head, but he was smiling. “I’m not gonna shoot you, even if there are days-”

“Oh, please,” I waved him off. “Our days aren’t anywhere near the irritating level they used to be, back when I wanted to throw my stapler at your head.” My tone sounded wistful and his eyes were twinkling. “Throw me a bone, Butcher, shoot me so I don’t have to go through with this archaic bullshit.”

 Friday came too soon, and I would have worked through the entire day and into the next night if I could have. Sadly, Billy seemed to be working against my hopes. “Up you get,” he said, right on the dot of the time I’d usually quit. Fucking traitor. “You got to get beauty sleep so you get the highest dollar, right?” I flipped him off as I slipped into my heels. “Is that ladylike, Veronica?” It was the first time he’d used my full first name and the sound of it made my heart thump harder.

“Maybe if I’m not ladylike, they’ll kick me out,” I sounded breathless and sighed. “Then again, it might make me more alluring to these assholes.” He chuckled. “You could still shoot me.” Shaking his head, he led me out to my truck. He’d parked closer to me, as he started doing after the first week we worked together.

“Go, try to enjoy yourself, and for fuck’s sake, Ronnie, fetch the highest price would ya?” I rolled my eyes and he grinned. “Woman like you should get it easily.” And then he was walking away, still not saying goodbye.

 The next evening I was putting the finishing touches on my hair and makeup when my phone rang. I knew who it was before I glanced at the screen, but it didn’t stop my sigh. “Yes, Mother?” I answered.

“Veronica, is that really how you answer the phone?” No, when it’s someone other than my mother, I’m polite, I thought. “We’re sending a car for you,” I started to protest but she cut me off. “That vehicle,” said in the same tone as one might ‘that dog turd’, “you drive is far too high up and I think a lady should exit a car with grace, not a jump.” My eyes were going to get stuck in the top of my head, I just fucking knew it. “Don’t rush, I just wanted you to know that the car will be there soon.”

“Duly noted, Mother.” I used the tip of my finger to wipe away a speck of mascara that dared to smear. “I’m almost ready anyway.”

“I do hope you chose a suitable dress, and please tell me your toenails are a normal color?” I glanced down at my toes, the polish bottle called it ‘mermaid green’, so normal for The Deep? “Especially if you plan on wearing open toed shoes.” I glanced at the strappy heels I’d chosen and grinned. “I’ll never understand-”

“If you don’t let me hang up, Mother, then I won’t make it within the required ‘decent’ arrival window.” She sighed, loud and long, but let me hang up. I rolled my shoulders and prayed against prayer that I would be one of the first on the block and that I could leave early.

A final look in the mirror once I had my shoes on confirmed that I looked presentable. The dress code for these things were always the same. Evening dresses, updos, and heels. Boring, boredom, bored. The dress I had on would make my mother sigh, but it looked good on me, and if I had to dress up then why not pick something flattering?

Held up by one thin strap, form fitting to the floor, with a slit showing ample leg (even if mine were short, they were toned). Black, because it was classic, and satin because I loved the way the fabric felt on my skin. The shoes I was happy to see, showcased the glittery green of my toenails. My makeup was only slightly more dramatic than I wore to work, my hair was twisted in contrasting waves into an updo. No jewelry, the dress needed no enhancement, but a small clutch with the usual necessities, including my house key, badge, office key fob, and cellphone.

The driver was waiting in my driveway, and he quickly opened the door for me while I locked up. And even with all the attention I put into my appearance, I really fucking hoped the evening would end quickly. Really truly, please.

 The club. What could be said about it? Pretentious. That was one word for it. Filled to the brim with smug, condescending assholes with too much money and not enough empathy worked too, though a bit wordy. The driver got to stay behind the wheel as a valet rushed forward to open my door. Stepping carefully out, I sighed. This was going to be a long night, I just knew it.

 John Alan Erickson was the highest bidder for my company during a meal that I was more than certain would be more torture than a root canal without anesthesia. He looked exactly how every other man who had won the bidding for me in the past, just a touch older than the ones that came before.

Tall, thin, wearing a well cut suit, and looking for all the world like a banker or something that would make my ears bleed as he inundated me with all the ins and outs of it during the meal I was now forced to share with him in the near future. I smiled through the introduction, knowing that I had at least two avid stalkers. My parents, standing just out of slapping range, watched as I nodded and smiled. Smile, nod, nod, smile. John didn’t need my active participation in the conversation, or monologue he was giving. I nearly danced out of my shoes when my cell phone rang loudly inside my clutch. Thank the fucking-

“Hello?” I answered, holding a single finger up to shush John who looked like he was going to tell me how rude I was to take a call during his speech. It was Billy Butcher and I felt like hugging him for telling me that I was needed at the office, pronto. “I’ll have to ask the driver my parents hired, but I should be there-”

“No need, Ronnie, I’m outside.” My smile grew. My fucking hero. “Tell those cunts that you have a prior engagement and get your ass outside.”

“I’ll be there in a moment.” I offered the slimmest of excuses to John and my parents who had come over to smooth his ruffled feathers. “Work calls.”

“Honestly, Veronica,” my mother admonished, but too bad. “Couldn’t you just-”

“No, I can’t.” I was firm. “I have to go, it was nice meeting you, John. Mother will give you my number so we can finalize dinner plans.” And then, without another word, I left.

I didn’t run, although it was a fucking close one, and seeing Billy Butcher waiting in a car that was making the valets take second looks at make my grin grow. I didn’t wait for the valet to make up his mind about the car, yanking open the passenger door and getting in, I told him to get me out of there.

#Billy Butcher x ofc #the boys #mention of smut #alternate universe

[roguelov]

Note: Has this been done yet? Ahh who cares!

You weren’t ever entirely sold on being a superhero but what else would you do?

You have these abilities so might as well put them to use helping others

Except

Being a superhero was nothing like you thought or more specifically what you’ve been fed to believe

You hated it

Hated the drama

Hated the façade you were forced into

Hated being told what to do, say, and act

It came to no surprise to you when found out of the horrendous acts of crime that the other supes secretly do

But hey what could you do?

A lot

Like spying on others

Like recording them

Like creating a file and list on every superhero

Being a double agent that no one would expect

That’s when you stumbled upon Billy

Billy who was also trailing a hero who was on his kill list

The two of you really didn’t connect in the beginning

“Hey, you’re that cunt. A fuckin’ supe. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“The name’s (Y/N). And I could ask you the same along with a few other questions like why do you have a gun?”

Like you might have killed each other

“Fuck you, you bastard!”

“You’re the fuckin’ cunt here!”

Until you both realized you had the same objective in mind: stop supes who abused their powers

Both of you needed each other

Billy knew more of the underground world

While you could navigate the superhero/corporate world

And more importantly, you could help against supes

Much to Billy’s initial dismay

“I don’t need you.”

“Oh cool be my guest trying to kill a woman who can cut you in half with her fucking laser eyes.”

*Grumbling*

Still it took some time to grow use to each other

But with the amount of time you worked together it was inevitable

Late night stake outs

Undercover operations

Him laying low at your house

You staying over at one of his many hideouts

Just lots of time spent together

And neither of you could admit it but you were falling for each other

HARD

*Whispering to yourself* “Fuck me, he can be such a piece of shit but he’s also so goddamn beautiful.”

“Did you say something?”

“Nope.”

Billy never thought he would fall for you for two reasons

One: His missing/dead wife

Two: You were a supe something he greatly despised

But he did

When you finally got the courage to confess your love he reciprocated it with a smirk

“I knew you couldn’t resist my lovely charms.”

“You tried to kill me when we first met!”

Now the two of you were a powerful and deadly duo

Each of you knew exactly what the other was thinking and acted like a well-oiled machine

There’s a lot of teasing and joking with each other

“Hey, sweetheart, you look absolutely gorgeous right now.”

“I know the dirt really brings out the color in my eyes.”

Billy loves touching you

Hugs from behind

Kisses all over your face

Although mostly in private

But he will give you a passing touch when others around

You love his stupid Hawaiian shirts and trench coat

And if you wear his clothes?

Let’s just say you won’t be wearing them for long

You’re the only one who can control Billy

To an extant

He’s still can be single-minded like his goal to take down the Seven/Homelander

Yes, you know about his wife

And you help him try to find closure

You’re also very protective over Billy

Being a supe you feet it is your job to protect your boyfriend despite how capable he is

He kinda finds it hot

Your dominating energy and steely look in your eyes when fighting against others or giving orders

If he does get hurt you blame yourself

“Love, I’m fine.”

“This is all because of me. I’m so sorry.”

“This is because of that cunt. Not you.”

Billy lives in your home but will come and go to do other side missions

All the while you’re stuck dealing with superhero duties

And keeping up your dazzling presence for the public

You’ll vent to him about all the other supes and corporate people

He listens

Then usually calls so-and-so a cunt

And most of the time he’ll tease you and your idiotic tasks as a superhero

“You had another dumb fucking interview?”

“I know I hated it. They kept asking if I was seeing anyone.”

“Did you say that a killer was pleasing you every night?”

“Should have. Now that would have been a great exclusive.”

#the boys #the boys amazon #the boys headcanon #Billy Butcher #billy butcher headcanon #billy butcher x reader

[blerbdrops]

New Kid (Billy Hargrove X F!Reader) Part 2

Thanks for sticking with me! Here is part two of New Kid. It is kinda wordy and descriptive. I hope you all enjoy it!

Summary: You’re new in Hawkins, hailing from the big city on the east coast.As a city kid, you think you’ve been stuck here to suffer in a small town, but there’s a certain someone who shakes it all up. 

Warnings: Mentions of smoking, swearing

Taglist: @salemlysi @asheseiler

You locked up your car, looking at it one last time and sighing happily. You loved your family, the family you had left. You made a mental note to remind yourself to call your uncle when you got home and tell him how appreciative you are for your new ride. 

Walking down the lot, you heard loud laughter and felt eyes on you. Like someone was staring through you, not at you. You heard footsteps trailing not too far off from you. Minding your business, you kept it pushing to the front doors of your school to the main office before class started.

“Hi, uh, I’m new here. My name is (y/n) (y/l/n). I was told to come pick up my schedule here.” The secretary looked up over her wire-frame glasses. 

“Hello! Let me grab that for you. Wouldn’t want you to walk into the wrong class now!” She pulls open a file cabinet organized by last name and flips through all the files before getting yours out. 

“Ah! Here you are (y/n). There’s your schedule for your first semester here. As a senior, you are expected to set a good example for the juniors and the rest of the student body here at Hawkins High…”

You half-heartedly listened to the spiel she had started. It’s not like you hadn’t heard it before. Based off of first impressions alone, you thought Hawkins High to be.. quaint. It was just another run-of-the mill high school. You took a quick glance and met the gaze of some random blond dude with a mop of curls atop his head. He gave you a quick wave and a wink and kept walking. You gave him a half smile and directed your attention back on the secretary, who was almost done talking. 

“...Now, before I let you off to go on your own, do you have any questions for me?” 

“No, everything was pretty straight forward. Thank you! I appreciate it.” 

She raised her eyebrows shocked, like nobody had ever appreciated her. She smiled kindly at you. “Thank you, (y/n). Enjoy the rest of your day!”

“You too, miss!” You walked out of the office, looking down to find your first class. The bell had just rang. “Shit, am I late?”

“Hey! You look new. And lost. Who are you?” A boy with sculpted brown hair and a kind face asked you. 

“Oh. Hey! Yeah I’m new. Name’s (y/n). Nice to meet you.” You extended your hand towards him. He reached out and shook your hand. 

“I’m Steve! Nice to meet you too. Let me see your schedule, we probably have some classes together..” He took your schedule from your hands and looked it over. 

“Oh, sweet! We have english, math and chem together. I can walk you to english, even though we’re gonna be a little late.” He shrugs.

“I’d appreciate that a lot, actually. I have no clue where anything is. Except the main office.” You continued. “Plus, you can blame being late on me. I’m new, and you’re being real kind.”

“Alright, sounds good to me. To english we go! Bit of a heads up, Mr. Kowalski is kind of a dick.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, so am I. Him and I can have a dick-measuring contest.” 

Moments later, you and Steve arrived to Mr. Kowalski’s class. Mr. Kowalski didn’t seem too pleased to have not one, but two late students to his class. 

“Mister Harrington. You’re late. No surprise to me, you’re always late.” Mr. Kowalski sneered to him. Steve didn’t really seem to care, he just let it roll right off of him. 

“I could’ve skipped, you know. But I apologize for being late, I uh, was helping the new girl find her way here.” He gestures over to you, and you give a small wave to the balding man in front of the blackboard. His face lit up. 

“Apology accepted, Mister Harrington! Have a seat now.” Steve went to an empty desk in the back row of the class, leaving you by yourself. Not wanting to seem rude, you introduce yourself to the teacher. 

“Uh, hi Mr. Kowalski. I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). Nice to meet you.” You extended your hand, to which he shook warmly. 

“Hello Miss (y/l/n)! Very nice to meet you! Why don’t you take the desk next to Mister Hargrove?” He gestures to the only open seat. You look and it’s the same guy you saw in the office. You walk over to the seat and sit down, taking out a notebook and pencil to jot down some notes. 

As Mr. Kowalski drones on about Othello, you jot down notes in between daydreams. You had already read and studied Othello at your old school junior year, the notes just kept you awake. You gave your friends your address, hoping they’d write you letters or something.  

“Pssst. Hey. New kid.” You hear a whisper from the left of you. It was the blond kid from earlier. 

“Yes?” You turned your head towards him, mid-sentence. This is the most you’ve seen of him, and you gave him a quick once-over. He had bright blue eyes, long eyelashes, full brows. He had a scar through his left brow, which gave his face some character. Full pink lips that hid a killer Colgate smile, and sculpted curls. You realized he had a mullet. You had never seen one so well executed before. He was easy on the eyes. 

“Do you have an extra pencil I could borrow?” 

“Yeah sure.” You go into your pencil case and pull out a yellow #2 pencil and handed it to him. “Here, keep it. I have extras.”

“Thanks, doll.” He smirked at you.

“I have a name. It’s (y/n). Use it next time, doll.” You retorted.

He raised his eyebrows at you, impressed by your smart remark. You turned away and continued taking notes until class was over. Mr. Kowalski assigned the class to read some of Othello and answer questions in a study guide. 

You raised your hand. “Uh, Mr. Kowalski? I don’t have the book. Or the homework.” 

“Ah, I see. Here you are. Catch up with the rest of the class, we are halfway through the book.” He walks to your desk and hands you your assignment. You place it in your folder, which goes into your backpack. 

“Alright, class dismissed! And there will be a quiz tomorrow. Study for it. That includes you, Miss (y/l/n).” 

You nodded, packed up for class and left, finding Steve in the hallway.

“Hey, he isn’t as much of a dick like you said he was. He was kinda nice!”

“Pft. It’s only because you’re new and you’re a girl. He’s a dick to the boys.” He continued though. 

You and Steve were on your way to chemistry class when that blond kid, whose name you still have yet to catch, stops dead in Steve’s tracks. 

“Hey. Harrington.” 

“What, Billy? You don’t see me walking (y/n) to class?” Steve retorts back. You watch them size each other up. It feels like you’re in a game of monkey in the middle, except the ball is a time bomb.

“Since when did you care about going to class, or other people for that matter?” 

“I’ve always cared, jackass. Screw off.” He continues. “Plus, shes new and we have a few classes together.”

You interject, “Do you take chemistry second period, uh, Billy?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Cool great see you two there.” You simply state and walk off, not trying to be late or caught up in between whatever those two were going to get into.

After finding your way to chemistry class, Steve and Billy beat you there. You got in right as the bell went off. 

“You must be (y/n), the new student! Welcome to chemistry. There’s an available seat at the lab table in the back. Go sit! We’re starting a new lab today.”

You look in the back, and the empty seat is next to Billy, and two other kids you didn’t know. They all looked like trouble. You walked back and sat on the stool, Billy directly across from you. The girl next to you glared at you, chewing her gum like a cow. It was really off-putting, and quite distracting. 

“Hey, could you not chew your gum like that? It’s kinda distracting.” You say politely. She rolled her eyes at you and kept at it, if not chewing louder. 

“Carol that’s gross. Stop it, for real.” The boy across from her says. She scoffs and stops. You give him a silent thank you and he just nods in your direction. The teacher, Ms. McCarthy is about to give out instructions when the fire alarm goes off. 

“Alright, this is a fire drill. You know what to do.” She says nonchalantly. You grabbed your stuff and slung it over your shoulder and filed out to the parking lot with the rest of the class

Once reaching the parking lot, you beelined it to your car and sat on top of the trunk, setting your backpack down next to you. You pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in between your lips, bringing your lighter up to it and inhaling. 

“Can I bum one off you?” The gruff voice asked. It was Billy. You rolled your eyes, reluctant to give up one of your precious smokes. 

“You never have any of your own shit, kid? Seriously, nobody likes a moocher.” You took a drag off your cig and blew the smoke away from him. 

He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Kid? We’re probably the same age. Are you gonna give me one or not?” 

You smile at him and chuckle. “Of course I’m not! Not with that attitude. Ask again.” You continue to enjoy your cigarette. 

“Are you serious?” You raise an eyebrow at him. He sighs, “May I please have a cigarette?”

“You may. See? Being nice gets you the things you want.” You hand him a smoke and watch him place it between his lips, watching the orange filter sit on them lazily. He has really nice lips, you think to yourself. The snap of his lighter snapped you out of your daze. He smirks at you. “Like something you see, doll?”

“Hmm.. nah.” He’s floored with your response. He wasn’t expecting that kind of response, not with the way you had been looking at him. 

“Hm. Could’ve had me fooled.” He says, a bit coldly. You disregarded him and watched as the Hawkins Fire Department came out of the school and gave the all-clear. The students and faculty filed back in. You dropped your cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. You walked back to the main entrance, Billy right next to you.

It was quiet for a bit. You preferred it that way, you hated small talk. Until Billy opened his mouth. “Hey. Thanks for the uh, pencil earlier and the cigarette.” He says, keeping his gaze forward. 

“Yeah sure. Bring your own shit next time, moocher.” You ended your sentence with a chuckle. 

He laughed along with you. He was starting to understand the way your humor worked, if that was what you could call it. 

“Nice ride by the way. Bit of a mans car though, wouldn’t you say?” He asked.

“Mans car? The hell does that mean?” You go on to continue, a bit annoyed. “Mans car, womans car, it don’t matter. At the end of the day, its my car, right?”

Billy put his hands up defensively. “Hey, you got a point there sweetheart.”

“I know.” The lunch bell had rung and you slipped into the masses, leaving Billy by himself.

----

Finding a seat in the classroom was one thing. The cafeteria was a nightmare. Your dad had packed you lunch today. He packed you the perfect ham and cheese sandwich, some chips, and a bottle of apple juice. You looked around the cafeteria only to hear a familiar voice call for you.

“Hey! Hey (y/n)! Come over here, sit with me!” Steve waved you over to his table and you sat across from him. “Hey Steve! How’s it going?” 

“It’s a regular day for me, man. School, then basketball practice after.” He takes a bite out of the hamburger. “Enough about me, what’s going on with you new kid?” He laughs.

“You’re gross! Don’t talk with your mouth full.” You pause to grab your lunch out of your bag and set it out on the table. Emptying the contents out, you continue your conversation with Steve. “My day is fine, I mean I have a shitload of work to do but that’s okay. It’s all easy. I already know about Othello, I read it my junior year of high school.” You take a bite out of your sandwich, chew and swallow. “Ha. Nerd.” Steve laughs, drinking out of his milk carton. 

“Steve I have something to tell you.” He stops mid-chew and raises his eyebrow. 

“I’m listening?” 

You look around the cafeteria, and lean in closer to Steve. In a hushed voice you say, “What is with that Billy kid? He’s been on my back all day, Steve. I don’t like it. I just got here.”

Steve nods his head, understanding. “Billy Hargrove. He was a new kid too, he’s from California. He isn’t anything but trouble. He’s a player, too. He’s no good, and you should stay away from him. Like, seriously. That guy? He’s bad news!”

You motioned for Steve to stop talking, but he doesn’t take the hint. “I mean, like this guy beat me up. Like beat the shit out of me and-”

“And I’ll do it again, Harrington.” You sigh heavily, finishing your lunch and giving the chips to Steve. Billy made you lose your appetite.

“Is that why you were telling me to stop?” You nodded. Steve gets up, and stands in front of Billy. Some of the students started to look on.

“Look, Harrington, I don’t know what your problem is.” Billy says coolly. “But badmouthing me to the new kid? That’s real low.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah dude whatever. I don’t want her to get caught up in all.. this.” He points, moving his finger up and down. 

Billy steps closer, trying to shake Steve. Steve doesn’t move. 

“What are you gonna do, huh Billy? Beat my ass?” 

Before Billy gets a chance to react, you slide out of the cafeteria bench and walk up behind Billy, squeezing the pressure point right in between the crook of his neck and shoulder, causing him to buckle.

“You listen to me, Hargrove.” Your voice ran cold. “Leave Steve alone. So far, all you’ve done is mooch off of me and prove Steve’s point. Don’t mess with him again. Or else.”

“Or else what? You gonna tell on me to the princi- ah fuck!” You tightened your grip on him. The students turned around to see the new girl have big bad Billy Hargrove yelping in pain. Steve was just watching, wide-eyed. 

“Steve’s my friend. Don’t go looking for trouble when there ain’t none, kid.” You let him go roughly. “Get out of my sight, Hargrove.”

He rubs his neck, casting a glare at Steve and a look at you. You tried to decipher what emotion was behind his eyes. Anger? Hurt? Fear? You couldn’t tell. He walked away and sat back at his table, the cafeteria still looking at you and Steve. 

“Can I help any of you?” You barked. They quickly averted their eyes and went about minding their business.

You and Steve sat back down. “You know (y/n), you didn’t have to do that.” Steve says to you, looking down at his folded thumbs. 

“Yes I did. I don’t let my friends get pushed around by some punk and let them get away with it. Not while I’m around.” You finished the rest of your apple juice, letting out a raunchy burp. Steve’s nose crinkled in disgust. “Dude! That was so gross!” Steve laughed. “It felt nice though! Excuse me.” You laughed. 

The rest of your classes passed, and you were essentially playing catch up in every class except math, where they were starting a new unit. You had study hall last period, so you decided to start your english work. Whatever you didn't finish, you’d just do it at home. Your chemistry teacher gave you a packet of catch up work to get familiar with what was going on, despite your class getting cut short because of the fire drill. You expressed gratitude to your chem teacher and she smiled, offering her classroom as open doors should you need any help.

Once the bell rang, you packed up and left the building. You walked out of the front doors and looked at your car. She was shining bright and blue. You strolled to your car, enjoying the nice weather while it was still around. There were kids ogling your car, mumbling amongst themselves. Saying excuse me politely wasn’t working. You cleared your throat and announced, “Excuse me! I’d like to get to my vehicle, please!” That causes the crowd to disperse, and you were glad it did. You opened up the back seat and threw your bag in there. You shut the door, and before you could even hop into the drivers seat, you hear the same, gruff voice that asked you for a cigarette earlier. 

“Hey, (y/l/n). I wanna talk to you.”

----

A/N: This part is super wordy and long, but it was a lot of fun to write. I write with a lot of detail because I write the way I think! I hope you enjoyed this part, part three will be out soon :)

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #blerbdrops original content

[mimiiis]

Can't Take My Eyes Off You [Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader]

part 1 of Let's Call A Heart A Heart

At long last love has arrived and I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you.

-

Summary: he finds her 70 years in the future,but she doesn't remember .

Warnings: small mention of death, couple of curse words

A/n: lets just pretend that steve cares abt bucky and endgame never happened 😳✋

!!!really very sorry this took forever!!! I was a bit held back by some family and personal issues i hope you all understand

**** 

"Y/n M/n L/n was born in the year of 1920. She had a close relationship with the hero Captain America and his best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, since their childhood. When James had been declared dead on a mission and when the Captain had gone under the ice, she had seemed to disappear as well. not a single trace of her was found until the year of 1947 when a young woman on the side of the highway was found dead. the woman had all the exact features Y/n had. therefore, Y/n M/n L/n had been declared dead at the age of 27 " Friday spoke.

"fuck" bucky sighed under his breath

When Barnes and Rogers had seen the girl who looked oh so much like Y/n at the small market, they hurried back to the compound to look up on what had happened to her. They searched through all the books about Captain America and Howling Commandos to see if they had any information on her but none did. not even a single mention of her name. so, they asked friday to help look around some files to see what information they had about her.

"is there anything else that happened after I went under?" Steve asked

"she didn't go missing until 1946. in the short while she was still around, she was close friends with Margaret Carter and Howard Stark. She was Barnes lover, according to an interview with Carter."

"alright. thanks Friday" He replied

"this is hopeless. what if we never see her again?" Bucky whined, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands

"back at the market, you said you had an idea of how she's still 'alive'. what is it?" Steve asked

Bucky looked at his friend with a face of uncertainty before shaking his head and looking down

"it's just.. it's just that before I left I... we promised each other that we'd see each other again. In this or my "past" life. That when we see each other we'll finally be happy together. but it's just a silly promise.." He said, quieting down and whispering the last part

The two stayed quiet before Steve finally spoke again

"what if it's not just a silly promise? what if fate wants to get you two back together?" he blurted out

"Steve that's ridicul-"

"you two made that promise so long ago. made a promise that you'd see each other in a new or the same life. well, you basically have a new life and so does she. and you just saw her again. have at least some hope" He said

He grabbed his friend by the shoulders and stared him in the eyes

" just a small ounce"

Barnes looked into his eyes.

Steve wanted him to be happy. He wanted his best friend to be happy. happy with the girl he loved. happy with the girl he loves.

So, he nodded his head

"yeah, yeah okay"

and smiled

-

In a small apartment in Brooklyn, a girl by the name of Y/n L/n paced around her room while on the phone.

"Oh c'mon! you gotta go! you hardly get out nowadays and this is like, a once in a lifetime thing!" A girl yelled from Y/n's phone

"Tony Stark hosts parties like every month, Charlie" Y/n replied, chuckling

"oh fuck you, you know what I mean."

"yeah yeah"

"but pleeease Y/n!! you hardly get out of the house and i really wanna take you" Charlie begged

"I'll think about it" Y/n responded

"yay!!," her friend yelled ," alright so the party is at 7 pm sharp tomorrow and ill pick you up at 6:30, okay? okay. Bye!!" Charlie yelled before hanging up

"Hey i said I'll think about i- and she hung up" Y/n sighed.

She threw her head back and laughed.

"What am I going to do with that girl?" she chuckled before walking over to her bed and turning off all the light

As she lay on her bed, drifting off into sleep, she heard a voice call out to her

One that she's heard before but can't quite put a finger on who it was.

All she could remember was that it made her heart ache in a way she's never felt.

-

-

1937

"c'mon Buck! You can do it!" Y/n cheered, looking down at a boy who was a few feet away from her as she sat on a tree branch.

"How'd you get up there so fast?!" Barnes panted, throwing his body onto a branch right beneath hers and pulling himself to a seating laying position.

"You're just getting old I guess" Y/n snickered, her head right over his. she was now with her stomach laying vertically across the branch so she could see him better.

"oh shut up i'm only two years older than you" He said, pushing her head away from him.

They both laughed as Y/n came down to sit in front of him.

"soo, anything new going on?" she asked the boy

"eh not really. Steve keeps picking fights with the school bullies and I have to keep breaking them up so" James responded

"oh that boy.. will he ever learn?" Y/n laughed

"probably not" He laughed with her

Their laughing slowly faded away into silence. a comforting silence.

The sound of beach waves crashing against each other and onto the shore was the only noise that could be heard.

that was until James spoke

"Bo" he started

Y/n hummed in response, not bothering to look at him since she was looking at the sunset

"i think...I'm thinking of telling this girl i like that i uh, like her" he stuttered

Y/n's head then shot into his direction.

She stared at him with wide eyes..Her heart shattered as she forced a smile onto her lips

"that's good.. very good" she whispered, more to herself than him

"when are you planning on tell her?" she continued to talk to keep herself distracted from crying

"I'm thinking tomorrow, at sundown.. around this time" he responded

she nodded her head as he continued to speak

"you think she likes you back?" Y/n asked

"not sure to be honest, but i have a good feeling that she might" James said

Bo kept nodding her head as she faced the opposite direction of where he was.

Tears slowly trickled down her face but she quickly wiped them away with her sleeve

"you good?" Bucky asked

"yeah just, allergies" She sniffed, focing out a small laugh

he let out a small hum in response and they fell back into silence

but it was awkward this time

they were both keeping something from each other and they were too scared to say it

so it was left at that

-

-

Present

The sound of Y/n's alarm clock rang loudly throughout her room

The sun beams peeking in through her curtains and onto her face woke her up more

She lifted herself from the bed and got ready for the day

-

"So what exactly do you wear to a Tony Stark party?" Y/n asked Charlie

"well, i usually just wear something classy but casual" Charlie replied

After Charlie told Y/n about the party last night and hung up on her rather quickly and didnt give any time to establish details, Y/n called again in the morning for them to agree to go out shopping to buy Y/n an outfit and get ready at Charlie's place.

So, here there were. Walking around New York, looking for a dress

"Oh youre gonna love it, Y/n!" Charlie exclaimed.

"The Avengers are everything you'd ever dream of. Hotter up close too" the girl winked at her friend.

Charlie was a very energetic girl with curly ginger hair, brown eyes, and a face full of freckles. Charlie and Y/n had known each other since their college days. Both studied in the arts and became very close.

After graduating, Charlie started to work for Stark Industries and was very close to Tony Stark. She helped with all the iron suit designs.

She was so close to him she basically got invited to every event Tony held. Even events such as Morgans birthday parties. but now was the first time she was allowed a plus one. and she wanted Y/n to go.

"Didn't you 'sleep' with Thor?" Y/n asked, laughing

"I did! We even had a small thing going on but i guess it couldnt work" Charlie said, pretending to sound hurt at the end

"You're stupid" y/n laughed

"Oh shush. You know, maybe we can find someone for you. Cap is still single you know? You're probably his type. Oh! Or maybe his buddy Bucky!" exclaimed the ginger haired girl

"Bucky?" Y/n asked

"Yeah, Bucky. The Winter Soilder?"

"oh yeah..."

They continued to walk along but Y/n couldn't get the name out of her head

Bucky

Bucky

Bucky

Why was it so familiar?

-

-

1937

It was a quite afternoon.

Y/n sat laying on her couch, listening to her vinyl play.

The orange and yellow lights softly streaming in from the windows set a comforting mood.

She was listening to Billie Holiday as she read her book.

It was the day after she had gotten her heartbroken by James. So she tried to distract herself by doing the things that comforted her the most.

A peaceful environment.

Until James came busting through the door

He was breathing heavily and was crouching down. His hands on his knees as he tried to collect himself. His hair a mess and his body was sweating.

"Buck? What happen-" Y/n gasped, running over to him

"Y/n! Doll! I-" he began to have a coughing fit, walking over to her too

"Bucky tell me what's wrong-"

"I need to tell you something first!" He yelled at her, standing up correctly and grabbing her by the shoulders all of us sudden.

They looked into each others eyes. James' more intense and Y/n's scared yet confused.

His eyes then started to close slowly.

"James-"

She was cut off.

His lips pressed against her soft ones.

Her eyes went wide as she realised what was happening.

She slowly closed hers too and savored the moment.

Then they pulled away.

Their breathing and the music softly playing in the background were the loudest thing

"What was that for?" She asked, her cheeks red from embarrassment

"I uh.. I like you. And have for a long time. Ever since we were little. I always just though it was a weird crush and that i'd get over it but then I've recently found that just the thought of being without you makes me sick. It's okay if you don't like me the way i like you i just needed to get this off my chest because being around you just- just makes me want to explode. It was getting late so I had to run over and tell you around this time like I said yesterday and I couldn't wait another day or have you think I had told an other girl.. Do you- do you know what i mean?" He blurted out

Y/n stared at him in silence.

Trying to process what had just happened.

And she started to laugh

She laughed so hard she fell to the floor

"Y/n? Doll? Bo?" He asked, worried.

She then knocked him over so he was on the floor too.

She moved on top of him and started to kiss his face.

"I like you too, you big dum dum!" She continued to laugh

"Then why are you laughing?" He laughed back, grabbing her waist and flipping her over so she was on the ground now

"Because. What you said yesterday really had me thinking that you were in love with some random girl that you probably don't know crap about." She smiled, her hand coming up to fix his hair.

He grabbed it and started to give small kisses.

"Bo.. My bo" he started whispering.

He laid himself down against her and pressed his ear up against her.

"My bo..." He said before drifting off into silence

Y/n smiled to herself before kissing his forehead and closing her eyes

Her mind wondered off into a far off place of the future and happiness, not knowing what was to come

-

-

Present

It was now 7:40 pm.

Y/n and Charlie were running late to the party.

"Hurry your ass up!" Charlie yelled at her friend from afar.

Y/n, who was running towards her, yelled back, "It's hard to run in heels!"

"Oh shush yours aren't even that tall!" Charlie laughed as Y/n caught up and now stood next to her

Y/n rolled her eyes as they continued to walk

Earlier in the day, it had taken Y/n 5 stores to finally find a dress both she and Charlie liked

It was a short red dress that hugged her curves perfectly. It showed her collarbones and stopped right above her breasts with the sleeves atop her shoulders and stopping almost midway on her arms. She wore her hair down to complete the look.

As for Charlie, she wore a green dress with spaghetti straps and a flowy bottom. The back was open with a bow tied on the bottom part and her hair in a bun.

As the girls entered the compound, they were greeted with the sounds of loud music and screams of enjoyment

"So uh, want me to show you around?" Charlie yelled, loud enough for her friend to hear.Looking around at the large crowd up people, Y/n yelled,"yes please!"

-

The first 15 or so minutes were Charlie showing Y/n around until Charlie finally led Y/n to a far off corner where Tony Stark and a couple of avengers sat.

"Noods!" Stark yelled as soon as he saw Charlie, getting up out of his chair to walk towards her

"Stank!" She yelled back, walking towards him and pulling him into a hug

"Noods?" Y/n giggled at the nickname

"As in noodles! Have you seen her hair when she hasn't done it!" Tony yelled

Y/n continued to giggle as Charlie gave Tony a playful smack across the head.

"Tony this is my friend, Y/n, the one I always talk to you about" the ginger said

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/n" Stark greets her with a hand shake

"Pleasure is all mine" She smiled

"ah! Meet the rest of the team. This is Clint, Pepper, Nat, Wanda, and Bruce" Charlie said, grabbing Y/n's arm and motioning to everyone at the table

"Hi" Y/n smiled and gave a small wave

"Hi!"

"Hello!"

"'Sup"

Was heard as they all gave their greetings

Wanda invited Y/n over to sit next to her as Charlie went off to go bring drinks

"So! What brings you here?" Wanda asks

"I was forced not gonna lie" Y/n replied

"yeah Charlie does that. You tell her maybe as she's already planning the whole thing." Wanda laughed

"Not even! I bet she already has everything reserved and bought before she even asks you!" Y/n laughed along with the girl

They seemed to get along well

-

Upstairs where all the Avengers living quarters were, 3 men in casual suits made their way to the party.

Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, and James Barnes

"It's all Barnes' fault we're late" Wilson joked

"No one asked you to wait for me" Barnes replied

"Hmn..I blame Steve"

"Excuse me?" Roger's said in a slightly offended tone

Barnes and Wilson laughed at his reaction

The trio slowly got closer to the loud sound of music playing. They looked over the crowd to see almost hundreds of people dancing, drinking, or chatting the night away. In the center of it all was a large dance floor where many drunk men and women danced to the newest trendy hip hop song. Next to the mess was a bar where people came and left every few seconds.

They made their way down the stairs as the song suddenly changed

An Elvis song started blasting from the speakers and several screams were heard as more and more people rushed to the floor tp dance.

-

"Oh i love this song!" Wanda yelled to Y/n

The girls had been chatting away about the most random things when the song had changed. And when it did Wanda grabbed Y/n by the arms and led her towards the dance floor.

As Y/n was being pulled, a certain figure at the top of the staircase caught her eye.

He had long scruffy brown hair and a red dress shirt tucked into some black pants from what she could see.

A spark inside of her then lit up. A feeling that was close enough touch but not hold.

Was it longing?

Sadness?

She couldn't think about it for too long before she and Wanda were in the middle of the dance floor making the weirdest movements to go along with the song.

-

Atop the staircase was Bucky chatting away with Natasha who had come up to find him.As they chatted he turned his head towards the large crowd until someone caught his eye.

A girl in a vibrant red dress being pulled across the dance floor. She had a smile on her face as she looked up at him.

Bo?

He felt a pang in his chest and the world stopped.

"So tony just wanted me to ask you if-" Natasha was cut off

"Hey, I'm sorry but I ,uh, need to go..." He said in the quietest voice as he started to head down the stairs.

"Barnes?"

He payed no attention for his mind was only set on one thing

-

As the song came to an end, a new one began.

Can't Take My Eye's Off You by Frankie Valli

The soft slow music began before Y/n told Wanda she was going to go find Charlie for she had been gone too long.

-

A new song had started when Bucky had finally managed to get through a large crowd

A soft tune started to play

He made his way into the dance floor with one purpose, find Y/n.

-

At this point Y/n was lost in the crowd. It wasn't a large dance floor its just that it was har for her and she couldn't navigate where she was going with so many people.

So, she helplessly wandered to find a way to escape the pushing of bodies

-

The song picked up a pace when James had searched through most of the crowd but still couldn't find the girl.

The flickering lights and moving of people every second made it harder

-

The speakers blasted with the sounds of trumpets going off

A circle of women jumped up and down, knocking Y/n back and she bumped into a large figure.

Then it went quite for a second

She turned around and saw him

-

Barnes had almost began to think she might've left the dance floor when he couldn't find her.

Until someone bumped into him.

He look to his side and his eyes went wide.

-

The sound of people screaming the lyrics was only heard

"I love you baby! And if its quite alright i need you baby..."

James Barnes looked down at the girl standing besides him.

Y/n Y/l/n.

"Bo?"

***

Taglist:

@perrythefrickinplatypus , @fresa-luna , @hotheadbarnes , @msrawog

!Taglist is open!

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[straykidsftw]

Piano Man - 한지성

genre: angst

Piano Man by Billy Joel

a/n: i am aware that this is not how jisung got into jyp but...... just go with it

“Thank you J.One! Next up, we have Sammy! Give it up for Sammy!”

Sammy walked up on stage as Jisung walked over to you at the bar. Most of the people who had been here for the J.One concert started stumbling out the bar, already drunk.

“Well done,” you smiled, giving him a quick kiss as he sat on the stool next to you.

“Thanks,” he smiled, resting his hand on your thigh as the barman got him the usual.

“Hey kid. J.One is it?” a man said.

Jisung turned around, shaking the hand that the man outstretched to him, “yes, call me Jisung though. Who are you?”

“Ah, I’m a member of staff at JYP. You know JYP?” the man asked.

Jisung nodded, “yes, yes I do. My family are originally from Korea, but we moved here a few years ago. Would you like a drink?”

“No thank you, I’m alright,” the man smiled, “but I’d like to talk to you for a bit. I watched your performance, Jisung, and I’ve gotta say; you’re talented.”

Jisung chuckled, “thank you Sir.”

“What song was that? It had so much feeling,” he said.

“It was my original song,” Jisung said, “I write some of my own stuff.”

“Some? You hardly sleep because of it,” you laughed.

Jisung smiled, “oh! Yeah! This is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Oh, nice to meet you Y/N,” the man said, shaking your hand.

“You too,” you smiled.

“Anyway, Jisung. You remind me a lot of a boy we have at the company at the moment,” the man smiled, nodding, “his name’s Chan and he’s always on at me to find him a new friend.”

Jisung smiled, “he sounds... nice?”

The man chuckled, “yes, yes, he’s lovely. Originally from Australia.”

Jisung nodded, smiling politely.

“Jisung, what I’m trying to say is: come to Korea. Join JYP. I think this could be your big break,” the man said, “I mean, what are you doing here?! You’re a top level musician stuck at this shitty bar!”

Jisung chuckled, nodding as he looked around.

“I’ll give you my card,” the man said, handing said card over to Jisung, “give me a call, okay?”

Jisung nodded, shaking the man’s hand again, “thank you Sir, I will do.”

“Look at you getting important people’s attention,” you chuckled, sipping your drink.

Jisung was silent for a while, making you look at him. That was unsual.

“You alright?”

Jisung seemed to snap out a daze when you placed your hand on his knee, “yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

You smiled, watching as he took another sip of his drink before sighing.

“I wanna do it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “wha—“

“JYP. Korea,” Jisung said, his words slightly muffled by how fast he was speaking, “I want to be an idol in Korea. I want to train at JYP. Y/N this is—“

“Yes, I know, this is your dream,” you laughed, taking his hands, “and I have nothing against that, Ji! Just... think about how hard that’s gonna be, okay? And then, I guess, go for it.”

Jisung smiled, “you really think?! Wait. You’ll really support me?! Because I’d like you to come to Korea too if I got in.”

You chuckled, “Jisung, they’ll make us break up.”

“What?! No they won’t! I’ll make sure to—“

“Jisung. I’m a k-pop fan, I know JYP, they have a dating ban,” you shrugged.

“Then I d—“

“Don’t even tell me you don’t want to do it Jisung because I know you do,” you said, looking at your boyfriend sternly.

Jisung sighed, “but... how am I supposed to– to live without you?”

“Because you’ll have other things to do,” you said, “different people to meet, different jobs to do and then you’ll be so caught up by being an idol that you won’t even remember me and then you’ll meet someone else!”

Jisung fell silent. Your tone of voice was far too positive for that morbid speech.

“Wh-What will you do?”

You shrugged, “I’ll stay here.”

“How about this: after I’m done being an idol, I’ll come back to you, right here,” Jisung said, grinning, “how does that sound?”

You smiled, nodding, “that sounds great, Ji. But you have to promise that’ll happen.”

“You too!”

You nodded, “I promise.”

Jisung nodded once, linking his pinky with yours, “I promise.”

Spoiler alert: his promise was broken.

You don’t know why you kept yours, you were the one who knew it wasn’t going to work. Several years later, after the Stray Kids hype had died down and they’d had several albums, you tried to contact Jisung.

It didn’t work.

All you had left was that song. That one song.

“Y/N, have you heard this song?! Ah, this is gonna be the soundtrack to my life!” your friend exclaimed, losing herself in the strong melody and the emotional lyrics.

You could barely hear anything but Jisung’s voice blaring out the speakers. He was good, you had to give him that, but it couldn’t help but feel bittersweet.

That was it. And memories. And that bar. The same barman was there, wondering where Jisung went. The week after he left people filed in, only to be disappointed when Sammy came on an hour early, J.One not showing up at all. And the next week. And the next. You got the runt of it.

“He helped me through a rough time, I need to hear more!”

“I-I’m sorry, he really—“

“I just need to know where he is, maybe he has an album or something?!”

“Not yet, he—“

“Were you the one who drove him away?!”

And so on.

No Han Jisung, though. Ever again.

You met another guy in that same bar and though you didn’t love him, he didn’t know who J.One was. Or Han Jisung for that matter, and that’s all you cared about really. Getting rid of him.

_________

“Jisung! I never thought I’d see you back here,” the barman smiled, “we’re closing but I think I can let you slide.”

Jisung smiled, “thanks bro. Hey, have you seen Y/N anywhere?”

“Oh. I guess you two lost contact.”

Jisung nodded, “yeah, but we promised that we’d... yeah. God I miss her, have you seen her?”

“Um, Ji, she um... she’s gone.”

“What? She’s dead?!”

“No! No!” the barman chuckled, “god no. She moved away, with her husband.”

“H-Husband?”

The barman nodded, “she always said she was waiting for someone but I never found out who. I’m guessing it was him since she met him here. Seemed relieved when they greeted each other. San I think it was? Can’t remember.”

Jisung looked around, trying to get rid of his tears, “okay, thanks mate. I’ll see you around I guess.”

“Yep, see you!”

Jisung found that happy smile the barman gave him ironic. He found it all ironic. The very bar where he’d found his happiness, he also lost it.

How could you do this? You promised.

[savvicc666]

Waddup? Are y’all tired of me posting about Johnny vs. Amber yet? Idgaf, because here’s some more stuff. Since, apparently, a good chunk of AH supporters think I’m lying about most of the things I’m saying. Here’s my facts once again, stated as a whole with links to evidence to back me up. 

Now, we’re gonna start with back before Johnny and Amber were together. Back to Amber and Tasya van Ree. In 2003 AH was arrested for attacking her girlfriend (Tasya) in public. Here’s the article and here’s her mugshot.

In response to this I’ve heard multiple AH stans say that this doesn’t matter for multiple reasons. I’ve heard “Oh, Tasya dropped the charges” and “Oh, but it doesn’t matter because it’s female on female.” What? Neither of those things matter, they don’t matter because the attack still happened.

Moving on, I want to talk about the divorce now. Amber filed for divorce May of 2016, 2 days after Johnny’s mother had passed away. In divorce papers she doesn’t claim to have been abused, citing “irreconcilable differences” as her reason for divorce as well as asking for spousal support. A few days later she filed for a temporary restraining order, at which point she was responded to saying that she was in no immediate danger being as Johnny was and would continue to be out of the country for several months. After which, they granted her a restraining order after posting a picture to twitter of her bruised face (I don’t have the link to her twitter post, but you guys all saw it, obviously.) Afterwards she releases this statement. Where she tells a heartbreaking tale, only to turn around and request (1) the residence that they shared, (2) the range rover that she had been driving (even though, she owns a car that Johnny bought and fixed up for her, (3) possession of her dog and (4) $50,000 a month as spousal support. (She also requested that he pay for the mortgage on said residence and for her legal fees.) This statement was released after a letter stating the same basic requests was sent to Johnny Depp’s team (by Laura Wasser, AH’s divorce attorney). Unfortunately, I don’t have the link to said letter, but as I said it states predominately the same things (although, including the fact that if Johnny does not sign to agree they will release the statement publicly. Of course, Johnny declined to sign it and so they released the statement.)

I’d like to mention here with the whole spousal support business; Yes, of course, she’s entitled to spousal support. The thing is that she claims to be a strong independent woman and after this statement she was attacked online by people saying that she’s “in this for the money.” She countered this by saying it’s not true and that she would donate all of the checks to charity. When Johnny offered to donate the money on her behalf (so it would all be donated at once instead of in intervals as spousal support checks are paid month to month) she refused. As far as I know, she hasn’t donated any of the money to charity. I’d also like to share at this time, evidence that she needs the money, seeing as how she spends more money than she makes. She also asked the court to deny any request from him for spousal support. 

Along with the aforementioned statement, AH also released this video to TMZ as “proof of abuse.” (This is the same video that she submitted in court which was deemed inadmissible due to the fact that HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING IN THE VIDEO EXCEPT SLAM AND KICK CABINETS!) Question, if you’re fucking scared of your husband why’re you sitting there, egging him on and recording him? For the record, she later stated that she never sent that video to TMZ, even though it was recorded on her cell phone (and released before it was shown in court.) Her only other proof in court was the picture of her bruised face, which was also deemed inadmissible due to the fact that she would not supply the metadata for said photo, which would’ve proven when the photo was taken (along with other things, such as if it was edited, etc.)

Johnny’s evidence consisted of 20 eyewitnesses who saw Amber Heard on the day after Johnny allegedly attacked her without the bruise she had previously mentioned. Amber ended up admitting, under oath, that Johnny had never abused her and that she in fact had abused him throughout the course of their relationship.

After the divorce was settled, Amber taking money over justice (go figure). Both actors said that they just wanted to put this behind them and move on with their lives... lmao why is it then that Amber still continuously brings it up?

Here’s an article put in Allure magazine. Firstly, this article just seems very unprofessionally written. It’s essentially drinking and gossiping, but you know what’s illegal? To claim to be a domestic abuse “victim,” “survivor,” whatever when you dropped the charges. I repeat YOU DROPPED THE CHARGES in order to “speed up your divorce.” Johnny, honestly could’ve sued for defamation of character at this point, but... who cares?

I could spend all day finding links to stupid videos of interviews, features, etc. where she is either belittling Johnny (both behind his back and to his face), pulling him away from fans, and just plain being rude. None of that constitutes divorce, but... hey... you don’t see Johnny doing any of that shit, or even arguing with her doing it, do you? Nah...

Fast Forward, Amber released this statement on the Washington Post. This is where she’s landed herself in hot water. After almost 3 years of this shit going on, Amber claiming to be an abuse survivor, Johnny losing jobs and being belittled he’s had enough of it. I can’t really say that I blame him. He’s decided to sue her for defamation of character. Earlier this month, evidence was released on The Blast of an incident where Johnny’s finger was split open (almost off of his finger). Previously, AH had stated that, in a fit, Johnny split his own finger open with a bottle, dipped his open wound in dark blue pain and wrote on a mirror “Billy Bob and Easy Amber.” As he thought at the time that Amber was cheating on him with Billy Bob Thorton and had accused her of sleeping with multiple others as well. This injury postponed the filming of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales for 7-ish months, due to his hand being in a cast. At which time he gave the excuse of having punched a wall in a heated fight with Amber. Prior to this lawsuit, Johnny has also stated that (on the night of her 30th birthday) Amber had punched him twice in the face while they were in bed reading, saying that she was mad that he had been late home. Afterwards he left, escorted by his security who witnessed the bruise on Depp’s face. 

You guys get to decide who you’re siding with on this one... Parts of it are slightly fuzzy, but I choose to believe Johnny. Not because he’s one of my favourite actors, or any other superficial reason, but because Johnny is not out trying to convince everyone of his innocence or Amber’s guiltiness. I believe him, because throughout all of this he’s stayed silent. He’s let people trash his name, ruin his reputation and get him fired. He’s accepted for 3 years that Amber would go around saying to her fans and her friends that she’s an abuse “survivor” while he is the abuser. You can’t blame him for being tired of it. If you can seriously believe Amber, I’d like you to tell me why? People believe her because she’s a woman... Obviously, a woman couldn’t lie about such things, a woman couldn’t abuse a man. That’s the most ridiculously disgusting and sexist thing that I’ve ever heard you people say. Amber has no evidence to back up her claims.. none at all. Dropping the charges should’ve made it look bad on her, but of course it didn’t because she’s already been “strong enough” to stand up for herself. WHERE WAS SHE STRONG? Where? Seems to me like she accused, took it back and got money. While claiming to have been paid ‘hush money’ in the Allure column that’s funny since that’s the money she was paid as alimony. 

Anyway, lol, it’s 2 am, I’m tired... I’ve posted, said and heard so much today and yesterday about this situation. I’ll be done talking about it until Johnny wins. As always, we love you Johnny. I love all of you for reading. Goodnight.

#johnny depp #johnnydepp #wearewithyoujohnnydepp #i support johnny depp #johnny #john christopher depp ii #john christopher depp #johnny vs. amber #amber heard #amber is an abuser #amber van ree #amber heard is a pos #domestic violence #domestic abuse #allure #allure magazine #the blast #people magazine #washington post

[hearts-upon-our-sleeves]

Undercover Madness - Spencer Reid

Title: Undercover Madness

Summary: In which Hotch enlists you to go undercover into one of the biggest drug rings in the US, which meant you had to leave behind the team and a special genius.  

Warnings: Drugs, Fighting (lots), Curse words, sexual themes, gangs, drug rings.

Word Count: 4000+

Terms: Y/N = Your name, Y/L/N = your last name.

Masterlist

A/N: THIS IS 100% BASED OFF OF SEASON 1 FINALE OF BROOKLYN NINE NINE, I TRIED TO ADD NEW THINGS AND MAKE IT MY OWN BUT I GOT THE IDEA FROM THEM. pls dont sue x. Also the first part the cast is Hotch, JJ, Morgan, Reid, Rossi, & Garcia. Elle and Gideon are gone and Prentiss comes a bit after you go undercover kk, also I made a lot of the agents and directors up bc i don't pay enough attention to know everyone cast in the show.  ALSO I CAN 100% DO A BACKSTORY AS TO WHY YOU’RE CALLED THE CALVARY IF Y’ALL WANT JUST ASK I’VE GOT IDEAS MY DUDES. This isn’t proof read its late okay. 

It wasn’t everyday that Hotch called you into his office before flying off for a case, yet here you were sat in one of the leather lined seats bouncing your leg up and down. It was obvious that you were nervous, you grew that way more and more as Hotch briefed the team for the newest case. You had no clue why you weren’t in with the rest of the team, but you listened to Hotch and sat in his office waiting on him.

You didn’t have to wait that long for Hotch to walk in and sit at his desk. Hotch flipped through a few files not speaking a word until he found one, to which he threw in front of you. You grabbed the file and looked inside curiously.

“This is the the mayor’s file, the case I tried to make when I thought he was laundering money, Why did you give me this.” You looked up at Hotch in a state of wonder. Looking into this case got you suspended the last time you tried to follow it.

“What I’m about to tell you does not leave this room under any circumstance.” You looked around the room a small bit before nodding. “I need you to get fired, and I need you to use this to get fired.” He tapped the case file, as you looked at him  as if he was mental. You tried everything to read him but you couldn’t figure him out.

“Hotch this is insane, I like my job, I can’t just leave it.” You set the file back down and set your hands on your knees looking back up at Hotch.

“I know, I need to know if you trust me.” You let out a small laugh that made him raise a brow.

“Of course I trust you, but I don’t see why I need to get fired.”  You leaned back into the chair you were sat in and crossed your legs.

“For me to tell you why you need to be fired, you need to agree to it.” Hotch locked his fingers together and met your gaze, you had to take a minute to think about what endless possibilities Hotch could ask you to do, Reid could probably tell you the exact number. Reid. Oh crap what about that pretty boy genius, the genius that would walk you to work and make your coffee with too much sugar, but you never minded because he looked so happy doing it. You knew deep down Hotch came to you because you were the only person for the job. As much as saying yes would kill you, you knew that it needed to be done and if blindlessly following him would help in any way shape or form you’d do it.

“Okay, I’ll get fired, but I need you to do something okay?” He nodded looking to you for your favor. “Watch out for Reid would ya? He’s a sweet guy and I don’t know what I’d do if he got hurt.”

“You know I will, but Y/N, the mission I’m sending you on requires you to infiltrate one of the biggest drug rings in America.” There was no way he’s gonna say that you, a FBI agent is gonna get into a family of incredibly dangerous gangsters. That shit just ain’t gonna happen. “I need you to infiltrate the Romanov family, get to know them, learn their ways and most importantly we have found a bar frequented by one of their sons, he is around your age and I need you to get close to him, have them accept you as one of their own. This is incredibly dangerous and I’m hiding this mission away from everyone. Garcia is going to work with you on creating a means to communicate with us under the radar. I’m going to be honest, there’s a high chance that you will die, but if you can get in it’ll be monumentary. I need you, I need the Cavalry.” As much as you took in you couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname he used, you hadn’t heard it in a long time but then again it was why people had been scared of you.

“What’s the story again? People keep adding onto it.” He smiled a bit showing the smallest ounce of compassion on a gloomy afternoon. You shook your head letting a breath escape you. “So are you in on everything or not?”

“I’m in.”

-

Saying goodbye as the team left to go to their case was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but you did it and over that week they were gone, you investigated the case harder than ever before and pissed off the director of the BAU. Which lead to a two-day suspension, and at your hearing you raised so much hell you were fired on the spot. You left with a hug from Garcia and a vague memory of your team- no your family.

That’s how it started, you got fired and never looked back as you drove along the highway singing Billy Joel with a suitcase in the back. It was getting late and you could use a drink and a nice motel, so you stopped at a bar. As you sat down you already felt eyes burning into your chest but you couldn’t care, you ordered and scrolled through your phone looking and feeling bored.

“What’s a pretty face like yours doing looking so sad? I’m Mickey Romanov nice to meet ya.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and I just got fired from the FBI.”

-

The past few months were crazy you had successfully gotten into the family, you had no clue but they all loved you. You thought it was because you beat out Nona in a shots contest, apparently no one could do that. You had incredible information and could easily arrest them all but you knew they’d all run and rebuild their empire, you needed an event where they would all be at and couldn’t leave. You needed a marriage, you’d dated Mickey for a while and were extremely happy when he believed that you wanted to wait till marriage for sex. But all round Mickey was sweet to you but cruel to the outside world and you knew that it was for the pure fact of you could kill him without even trying if he treated you wrong.  

You and Garcia spoke once a week through the mail, she figured out a way to send you new recipes that were actually messages, Mickey thought you were getting weekly new recipes but you were really just relaying back and forth with Garcia. You and Mickey lived together and as he would believe happily, yet still inside were raging feelings for Boy Wonder and Garcia knew it which is why she always included a recipe about Reid and the things he did that week. You wrote her back a recipe telling her all of the intel you got this week including your plan to get the family together by a marriage.

-

“Garcia, how’s she doing?” Hotch walked into Garcia’s lair after being informed of a new letter.

“She’s holding up feeling a bit homesick but I would too after eight months of faking who you are.” Garcia typed away on her computers pulling up the recipe. “They smuggled in more of the bad stuff through the ports, there's a lack of security in one spot and so the claimed it as their own. Do we do something about it?”

“No we handle it all after we catch them all, we fix it they will think someone’s giving out their information and I can’t risk Y/N to close off one port.” Hotch thanked Garcia and continued to his office.

-

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” You could have rolled your eyes there but you faked tears and happiness, yet a small hint of relief for it would be over soon.

“Yes, yes I will, I can’t wait to be Mrs.Y/N Romanov!” You squealed trying to feel a single ounce of happiness yet nothing.

-

“Hotch!” Garcia called running into his office in a hurry, she slammed the door finally catching his attention. “Y/N is gonna get married! Hotch this is her plan during the vows when everyone is there and all attention is on the bride and groom is when we hit. She’s gonna get to come home, after a year and a half we can have our girl back!” Garcia practically threw the wedding invite at Hotch.

“We’ve got three weeks, I’ll fill in the director.” Hotch read over the copy of the invite, thinking about the plan.

“But the director of the BAU will never let us go in he hates Y/N!” Garcia exclaimed confused and looking for an answer.

“That's why I’m going to the Director of the FBi. Also Garcia, Y/N has kept up this act for a year, that does a lot to someone.” Hotch sighed and looked down at the photo of Y/N and her fake fiance.

“What are you saying sir?” Garcia looked up with beady eyes.

“Let’s just hope Y/N can come out of this as herself again. I’ll inform the team soon, please keep this quiet.” Garcia shook her head and left Hotch to himself, trying to think positively that Y/N would come back herself.

-

“Team, meet me in the conference room in 5.” Hotch shouted over the team as they wondered why JJ cancelled the new case, in all honestly JJ didn’t know either.

“Anyone know why Hotch called us in here?” Morgan asked around the room of confused agents. Prentiss shrugged as JJ shook her head. Reid mumbled a ‘no clue’ as Garcia bounced into the room. “Hey Baby girl what’s got you so happy today?”

“It’s a secret but you’ll all see soon!” Garcia took her sat and positive energy illuminated the room as everyone looked confused. They were all trying to profile the situation, but were interrupted when Hotch came into the room, Rossi trailing behind him with a smirk on his face.  Morgan furrowed his brows trying to figure out what was happening. But it wouldn’t take him long since Hotch wrote on the board a name most of them were all too familiar with. Y/N Y/L/N. Reading your name again made Spencers heart stop dead in its tracks, he’d spent so long trying to forget that you left without a single goodbye to any of them. Reid was angry, he wanted to be angry at you but he was angry at himself for falling for someone who would leave without a single word. He wanted so badly to understand everything but the puzzle was missing a piece until Hotch finally turned to them and pointed at the board.

“I’ve got some explaining to do about a past agent, a past friend. Many of you may be angry that she left and none of you have known why, and it was my fault. I made Y/N get fired, then go into the Romanov family.” At that moment Morgan realized Spencer’s jaw had clenched and his fist tightened around the uncomfortable desk chair he was sat in. “Over the past year and a half she has infiltrated them, gained their trust, and even succeeded in joining the family, or should I say she will be joining the family. In three weeks she will be getting married to one of the sons, we have three weeks until the wedding to put together a plan of invasion. There has been talk of them storing all of the product at one massive facility the day of the wedding, but we won't know until we speak to Y/N again, she’s been sending Garcia messages in the form of recipes, she’s gone under the radar and it is the perfect way to speak to her. I want you all to find everywhere they are importing the drugs and keep tabs, we are going to bring teams in on the day of the wedding we attack. All of the files are being brought to you, you’re all dismissed.” With that Hotch took his leave and Spence did everything he could to not storm after him and curse his name. He loved you more than anything in the world, where you disappeared it took a toll on him that no one could fix, hell even to this day you were there burning in the back of his mind.

“Garcia, you knew about this?” Spencer was past being angry but now he just felt betrayed by one of his friends. Spence stormed out of the room, he couldn’t handle everything that was just laid on him.

“Spencer.” Garcia called after the boy wonder, turning to Morgan silently asking him to talk to the damaged boy.

-

“Wow.” You choked looking at yourself in the mirror, today was the day you tried your gown on and you looked absolutely stunning. Of course it was a fake wedding but you could at least imagine if it was real, with a different groom of course, maybe one that was smart and sweet and cute and now you were droning on and on, about the love of your life, Spencer Reid.

-

“Hey, hey, hey, the hell’s wrong with you?” Morgan chased after Spencer, stopping him in the hallway. Morgan placed his hands on his on Spencers shoulders, looking him in his already red eyes. Spencer push Morgan off and tried to continue until Morgan grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. “I get it you love her and you’re incredibly angry but don’t it out on other people because you feel like you let her leave, you know in that smart head of yours you couldn’t stop her from doing anything.”

-

“So who exactly was Y/N Y/L/N?” Prentiss asked looking through the boxes of intel. JJ laughed a bit making Prentiss raise a brow in question.

“Ever heard of the calvary?” Garcia piped up her fingers clicking away on her laptop, looking up for a second to see Prentiss putting it together.

“You mean Hotch was able to get the cavalry on his team? Dang I’ve heard all of the stories, she’s just plain terrifying but she looks so nice.” Prentiss looked at an old picture of you and Reid in stupid party hats and a feather boa draped around your neck that clung to Spencer’s shoulder. Smiles illuminated both of your drunken faces and you could sense the love the two of you had for each other in the picture. JJ looked at the picture and smiled too she knew how much you two cared for each other and she was rooting for you two to get together.

“She’s the nicest person I know, don’t believe the stupid stories people make up, yeah she can kick serious butt but it’s only to protect people. We’re lucky to have her, and besides as much as Spence looks angry and hurt, he’s excited to get his girl back.”

“His girl huh?” Prentiss smirked a bit, never knowing Spence could have actual human emotions.

“Totally! They are in love with each other!” Garcia piped up ready to talk about the letters about Reid, that she’d promise she wouldn’t say anything about, so Garcia didn’t say any more but tease them a bit.

-

Today was the day. Today you were going to get married or you could finally be free from this crazy family and kick some bad guy ass, you hoped it was the ladder.  You slipped the bottom part of your dress on over some black leather leggings, thankfully your corset was the top part but it was breathable so you could just take the skirt off to fight. On top of the leggings you had two gun holsters just incase things got bad, you prefered fighting over shooting but this would be one weird and angry day.

Mickey’s father escorted you down the aisle. You knew that Hotch was watching, you could see the small camera set in the bouquet, it was hard to see to the normal eye but you could catch it. Every step you took you felt enlightened for it would be over so soon but you knew there had to be a war before there was silence. You met Mickey’s love sick gaze and gave him the same look, it sickened you but you swallowed it down and took the last step as his father gave you away.

-

You looked absolutely beautiful and it made Spencer sick, he hadn’t looked at a picture of you in so long, so seeing you at your wedding destroyed him, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact it was fake. But he was there with every single member of every security team, they all split up around the building you were getting married, and Spence was gonna be there when they release the gas that knocks everyone out, he was gonna be there to make sure you were okay. Hotch told him you could hold your breath but Spence prepared for the worse, he didn’t know why he acted this way but his mind just couldn’t focus around you, he loved you.

-

“I  have never loved anyone the way I love you, Mickey.” You lied your ass off. “Standing here with you by my side makes me realise I missed so much the first part of my life, and I’m ready to start it off right with you.” You looked into his eyes with stars in yours. “It’ so hard to describe how much I love you, it’s like trying Baba’s meatballs for the first time over and over again.” Heartfelt laughter erupted as you gazed into each other. You smiled, for the fact part one was over.

-

“That’s the word, release the gas.” Hotch ordered, it was rare for him to be incharge on so many different units and ranks, but this was his case, the director of the FBI made that clear.

-

It took 15 seconds for people the people in the back to pass out cold, and another 5 for everyone else. You held your breath and closed your air ways off. There was a gas mask stashed under the food cart which you grabbed and threw it on fast, finally breathing in and actually feeling how light headed you were. You took a few moments to compose yourself, there were guards you had to take out on the roof, before teams swarmed this place like a beehive. As you walked down the corridor to the roof staircase you slipped your skirt off leaving your pants, as it was easier to fight in pants than a 15 pound skirt.

As you reached the opening you could hear the guards, Hotch told you that he placed an earpiece under on of the shelfs in the room. It didn’t take too long for you to find it, turn it on and place it in your ear. “5 guards on the roof, taken them out then we go in, you still got it?” Hotch’s voice boomed through the ear piece.

“Fuck yeah I do.” You smirked, you were back in business, you were you again. You threw the door open, greeted with 5 very big men. One charged out at you and you jumped over him grabbing his head with your feel and kicking him onto his back. Two snuck behind up so you elbowed both of them in the head using an ‘x’ motion. Another charged in front of you so you did a front aerial with a spin and used him as a landing target. Those four had been knocked out but you still had one more and he charged at you throwing punches, you did the only logical thing you could think of at that time and threw him off of the building, which startled a lot of agents when they saw a girl throw a huge man off a building, eh you shrugged you’d deal with it later. You walked back to the door and used one of the guys as a stepping stone. When you climbed down the ladder you were met with a face you’d dreamt to see for the past year and a half. Spencer. You two looked at each other not knowing what to do only just staring and smiling until you just ran into his arm and hugged him, stuffing your face in his neck.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He said into your hair, you could’ve cried right then and there but you just smiled to yourself and felt at home in his arms. But all good things must come to an end, you two still had a case and Spence knew that so he pulled away first, he never liked touching people or having them touch him but damn were you his only exception. Spencer escorted you out to Hotch and you gave him all of the information he needed to send teams out.

It was over, the year long mission you had, everything came to an end today, and go damn were you happy to see everyone.

-

By the time everyone was in custody and all of the drugs and other illegal things were found it was almost midnight and that was when they let you go home as long as you came back in the morning to give your statements and everything.  Spencer walked you home and you let him stay over, since it was so late and you honestly didn’t wanna watch him go. So that’s how you found yourself on your couch cuddled with Spencer as content as possible.

“Did you ever think about us while you were away?” Spencer broke the silence, looking down at you cuddled into him, you sat up and looked in the eye.

“Of course I did Spence, every single minute of every single day, I missed you so much and I honestly had to fake every single emotion I had because I was so empty without you, I didn’t want to leave you I really didn’t but I had to. Honestly all I wanted to do was say goodbye, but you were on a case and it was such short notice and all I wanted to do was just,” You paused. “I just wanted to kiss you and listen I just god every single time I think about yo-” Spencer cut you off he couldn’t listen after the first statement. He slammed his lips into yours and you kissed him back as if the world was ending, you two fit together like the world’s most perfect puzzle and every single second of that kiss was explosive.

“I’m so sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so long.” Spencer looked into your eyes as you both broke apart. You just smiled and let out a small breathy laugh.

“I think I liked the kiss hello, better than the kiss goodbye.”

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