#Like... its just luggage and there were only a few pieces of clothing in it. It wasnt full or anything and nothing really valuable in it

[zarafey]

Something something that cough drop story but its me and my luggage

#Using the tags to vent now bc im like this close to breaking out in tears on the train and i would rather... Not do that #Like... its just luggage and there were only a few pieces of clothing in it. It wasnt full or anything and nothing really valuable in it #But its not JUST luggage. Its the fact that this happens literally every time im on a crowded train and dont have the space #To put my luggage on the seat next to me. And sure most of the time i manage to remember just when im about to exit the train #But even then! Even then that sometimes meant that i dont have enough time to get my luggage and get off the train #Which often means i then add an hour or so to my travel time bc i missed my station #And then i do forget it and its just fuck its humiliating. I literally bought a bright blue trolley so id be less likely to forget it #And i still forget it over and over and over again #And its the bag and the milk and the toothpaste and the homework and the powerpoint and the passport and the key and the appointments #The times i told someone id call them the times i promised id cook or do the laundry or the dishes #The meetings with friends #I barely remember conversations from last week and then have to context clue cheat my way through interactions with people i should know #Its just a small trolley. But its not just the trolley

[fickleminder]

seven supervillains and one (1) normie

You move in with seven normal, law-abiding housemates.

Here’s my piece for @obeymezine! Leftover sales are live till Dec 15th, so do consider supporting us since all proceeds will be going to charity :)

Lucifer looks even more handsome in person.

You find yourself paying more attention to him and the deep timbre of his voice than the tour of Serenity Manor and its rules. Only a firm call of your name snaps you back to the present.

“This will be your room,” he says, opening one last door for you to step through. It’s decently furnished with all the basic necessities and has an en suite to boot. How generous. “Is this to your satisfaction?”

“Oh absolutely, everything looks great!” You wheel your luggage into a corner and set your backpack down on the large study table. “I still can’t believe I got matched with you guys for the boarding program. Thank you so much for having me!”

“The pleasure is ours.” Lucifer gives you a polite nod. “Make yourself at home, and I will introduce you to my brothers tomorrow. We hope you’ll enjoy your stay here with us.”

.

.

.

“Surveillance systems are online,” Levi reports as all eyes watch you unpack on the screen. “Ugh, bugging rooms is so old school. It’s only the first day, I doubt there’ll be any suspicious activity.”

“And it better stay that way.” Satan’s already profiling you from your posters on the walls, your stuffed sheep on the bed, your clothes in the closet. No red flags yet, as far as he can discern.

“Pfft, what can one exchange student do to us?” Mammon scoffs. Your background check was clean, your documents checked out. In every practical sense, you were an ordinary postgraduate taking courses at the local university for a year. “Loosen up guys!”

Lucifer shoots him a glare indicating he has no intention of doing so. “No funny business. It’s unfortunate that we have to go undercover in our own home, but Elysium’s agents are on to us. We need to mask our activities and blend in, and we have no choice but to wait for them to leave. Until then, continue to follow Prince’s orders, but keep things low-key. Do I make myself clear?”

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.

.

“—massive destruction of property at Settler’s factory premises. Witnesses say it was Gluttony in another one of his rampages, and this marks the fourth attack in…”

You glance towards a face-palming Lucifer at the breakfast table. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, perfectly fine.” He smiles through gritted teeth and switches off the TV, silencing the news.

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.

.

You have a few days before classes officially start, so you decide to take some time familiarizing yourself with the town. Lucifer has graciously agreed to escort you, along with one of his brothers.

“And that’s about it, really. Is there anywhere else you wanna go?” Belphie asks after they’ve given you a cursory tour. You mention wanting to return to the confectionery shop you passed by a while back, and he smirks. “Sure, but if you’re looking for Settler products, they might not have much stock.”

“That’s alright! They used to be one of my favorite brands you know, but then I found out they engaged in a lot of questionable business practices. It’s a shame really, I liked their stuff.”

Lucifer feels his work phone vibrating in his pocket all of a sudden and curses mentally. What could Barbatos possibly want at this moment? “Apologies, I… have to use the washroom,” he excuses himself in a hurry, discreetly signaling Belphie to cover for him before running off.

Almost half an hour passes with no Lucifer in sight.

“He’s been gone for a while. Should we go and check up on him?” You ask worriedly.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Belphie sniggers. “He usually takes really long shits anyway. Let’s just go. He’ll catch up eventually.”

Lucifer meets you back in the manor at the end of the day, and you miss the dirty look he sends Belphie behind your back after you recommend some home remedies for treating diarrhea.

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.

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“Satan, I need some advice!” The blond follows your voice to the kitchen and freezes when he sees you holding his collection of hunting knives. For gutting people, not cutting meat. “I’m making lunch. Which of these are for fruits and vegetables?”

This is why Lucifer always nags us about picking up our toys, Satan realizes belatedly. Fuck, he probably left them out on the couch or something. At least he’d remembered to clean off the blood first. “Those aren’t for cooking. They’re for, uh, self-defense.” Idiot, is that the best you could come up with? There’s no way it’ll—

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have assumed.” You gasp and quickly return the knives to him. “One of my old roommates used to sleep with a dagger under their pillow, though I personally prefer to keep a baseball bat next to my bed. Besides, didn’t some rich politician get murdered in his own house just recently? The manor seems secure and you guys have Cerberus, but better safe than sorry I guess.”

Satan is still reeling from your sheer obliviousness, but he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I completely agree,” he says with a poker face.

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.

.

Mammon’s Lexura is a sight to behold, but you’re more interested in how fast she can go.

“Oi, I know you’re worried about your friend but keep your oily fingers to yourself, you hear?” He grumbles, opening the garage door for you and Beel to enter. “Which mall was it again?”

“The one with Bullseye,” you reply distractedly, furiously tapping away on your phone. “I can’t believe she and her girlfriend got harassed in public. You only read stories about this happening to other people online. What kind of fucked up organization calls themselves a charity and— Shit!”

You trip on something and drop your phone. It bounces and skids under Mammon’s car, but Beel instinctively steps forward before you can even react. With one arm, he tilts the vehicle just enough for you to duck under and retrieve it.

“Wow, thanks so much Beel!” You dust your phone off and check for cracks on the screen while Mammon sweats buckets behind you. “You gotta share your workout routine with me sometime. Hey, do you mind coming along and being our muscle for the day?”

“Okay.” Beel agrees easily, and you pump your fists.

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.

.

“—worth millions. The curator declined to comment…”

“This is crazy, I was there just last week!” You exclaim while chewing on your dinner. “The museum had lots of cool stuff on display. Mostly illegally imported, if you catch my drift, but not anymore huh?”

Asmo winks at you. “What a shame. You could have seen Lust in action first-hand.”

“Aren’t heists supposed to be discreet? He is pretty good-looking though, I’ll give him that.”

“Is he prettier than me?” The entire table goes deathly silent as you squint between Asmo’s fluttering eyelashes and the masked supervillain on the TV screen. “Don’t you think he’d look better with a boob window?”

“…Nah, he doesn’t have the tiddies to pull it off.” Your gaze unconsciously flickers to Beel’s chest. “Plus the butts don’t match. Yours is flatter.”

Asmo’s jaw drops in mock outrage. “Honey, have you been checking me out? How very scandalous of you~”

“Enough, please.” Lucifer sighs amidst your spluttering.

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.

“That’s it. We’re screwed, our cover is blown. I knew this was a bad idea…”

“Let’s just resort to good ol’ fashioned murder and then frame it as a runaway case. No one will ever know!”

“This manor is a fortress located in the safest part of town. What the fuck do you think people will presume there is to run from?”

“There were a couple of close calls, but I think we’re still in the clear.” Beel recalls you quoting your statistics professor after an extended period of time where one of them would come home late the night before a major news event: correlation does not imply causation.

“Need I remind all of you, it was our proposal to join the boarding program as a front. Prince approved it himself, and I won’t allow us to back out now.”

“Shut up, Lucifer. Don’t you have any politicians to assassinate?” Belphie sneers.

“We will see this through.” Lucifer refuses to budge, ever the prideful bastard. “We’re still safe, but keep your guards up. Understood?”

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.

The kitchen is pitch black this time of night, but Levi’s had years to figure out a way around without alerting anyone he’s back.

“I hate on-site jobs,” he grumbles to himself. “What kind of company doesn’t have remote access to their servers nowadays? Let’s see how they like it when people steal and sell their private data instead, muahahaha— Eek!”

“Hmm? Levi?” You stifle a yawn and shuffle towards the rack of cups. “Why’re you up at this hour?”

Levi is still blinking away the spots in his vision from the sudden onslaught of light when you flipped the switch. He pales as you stare at his costume and equipment on the counter. “Wait, it’s not what it looks like—”

“Late con, huh? Must have been fun. You were still in character there. Heheh.” You pour yourself a glass of water. “Nice cosplay by the way. G’night.”

“G-goodnight!” Levi waits to hear the sound of your door closing before wheezing hysterically in relief.

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You sigh blissfully under the weight of four cats lounging on various parts of your body. “I’ll admit I had my doubts at first, but this is exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Satan takes a long sip of his tea while petting the snoozing tabby on his lap. He looks like one of those criminal masterminds in the movies. “Visiting cat shelters is the best way to unwind after a long week. And don’t worry, I have it on good authority that this one actually takes proper care of our furry friends.”

“That’s reassuring to hear! I’ll never understand why anyone would want to hurt these precious babies.” A little calico wanders near your face and boops your nose with its toe beans. “If only all shelters could be as noble as this one. Remind me to stop by the donation box before we leave!”

“Gladly. Speaking of donations, remember that charity group that messed with your friends? I heard someone stole every last penny from their funds and now they’re on the verge of insolvency. Truly, this is karma at work.”

“Schadenfreude!” You cheer before the two of you clink cups and drink.

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.

.

“Hey, you’ve been in there for a while now. Do you need— Oh.”

“Belphie!” You grin at him sheepishly and fidget with your rubber gloves. “I’m sorry, I’m really bad at this. My old dorm had a janitor, so I’ve never been assigned toilet duty before…”

“No wonder. You’d be dead in minutes if you kept this up,” Belphie snaps, quickly moving the unopened bottle of bleach away from you. “Mixing cleaning products is a sure-fire way to poison yourself.”

You wince at his harsh tone, and Belphie’s expression softens in sympathy.

“Here, I’ll teach you.” And then he proceeds to detail exactly what chemicals are in each product, which combinations produce different kinds of fumes with varying levels of toxicity, how to make odorless gasses that can kill a man in seconds—

“Why’d you stop?” You protest when Belphie abruptly cuts himself off. He’s probably feeling embarrassed about oversharing. “This is super informational. I’d be dead without you!”

“…Right.” He blinks, nonplussed. “You’re welcome, or whatever. Just stay away from the bleach, okay?”

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Mammon shuffles the deck with deft hands and explains the rules. “You play as an Elysium agent of your choice, and your goal is to defeat the mob boss terrorizing the city: Jesús Iglesias Ken. The game can be competitive or cooperative depending on which rules we follow, but I say we do competitive mode and bet on the winner!”

“Ugh, shaddup Mammon!” Levi groans while you set up the board and pieces.

“Now, for the characters! We have Kid, a tiny chihuahua of an agent who has lots of good buffs from the sweets he eats. Director, who can move other players during his turn; but don’t get fooled by his smile. He can be super scary sometimes! Spear, man that guy packs a punch. He’s a damage dealer with shitty taste buds.”

Too busy paying attention to Mammon, you don’t see the way Levi makes throat-slitting gestures and mouths SHUT UP SHUT UP STUPIDMAMMON—

“There are also NPCs like Sorcerer, who can help or hinder you depending on your actions, shady bastard. And Aristocrat, who’s on the villain’s side and a total bootlicker, but he gives valuable intel for the right price.”

“How do you know all of this? I don’t see it in the rule book.” You scan the character description section intently. “Don’t tell me… You’re secretly a fan!”

Mammon chokes, finally catching on to Levi’s signals. Both of them exchange wide-eyed looks before forcibly grinning at you. “Yeah, totally, I’m a fan! Hahaha…”

“What a nerd, right?” Levi laughs nervously. “Anyway, this game is more fun with more players, so let’s just play something else for now, okay? Okay.”

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.

“I’ve got reports that Elysium’s agents are finally moving out. We should be cleared to resume normal operations soon.”

“Our plan worked like a charm! Ooh, we’re so close~”

“Good job, everyone.” Lucifer nods with a satisfied smile. “This will all be over shortly. And just in time too. A year’s almost up.”

Everyone falls silent as their thoughts drift to you. It’ll be quiet without you around; you may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but you were always kind and genuine with all of them. It goes without saying that they’ll definitely miss you once you’re gone.

“We should stay in touch,” Mammon proposes suddenly, looking none of his brothers in the eye. “Y’know, to keep tabs and make sure we weren’t compromised or anything. See things through to the end and all that.”

For once, nobody objects to Mammon’s idea. “Indeed,” Lucifer murmurs in approval.

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“I’ll be on campus studying for my ethics finals. See you all at dinner!”

You set up camp at your favorite corner: a little nook in the section of the library that’s perpetually empty. Just as you make yourself comfortable and open your laptop, someone pings you with an encrypted message.

Grinning to yourself, you easily bypass Levi’s embedded spyware and open up a private channel to take the call. “Barb, it’s so good to hear from you!”

“Good afternoon.” A polished voice greets you from the speakers, and you quickly plug in your headphones to prevent eavesdropping. “Apologies for the disturbance, but I have the data you requested.”

“Thanks Barbatos. You really are the best AI I’ve ever created!”

“I am the only AI you’ve ever created, but the sentiment is acknowledged. Did your side project go well?”

“Always so humble, haha! And yes, it went wonderfully! It’s so good to finally meet the brothers face-to-face. They’re such a lively bunch!”

“I concur. Back to business: the up-and-coming cosmetics company you asked me to look into? It turns out your hunch was right; I’ve found evidence that they rely heavily on animal testing for their products.”

“A job for Belphie then. He’ll know how to put those chemicals to better use.”

“Of course. On a separate note, another political party has been pushing for…”

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos #zine

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter One: A New Friend, A New Enemy

The Pariahs That Saved The World (Masterlist)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: mentions of death, canon descriptions (vecna's curse)

[A/N: Thank you to everyone who seems really excited about this! I am going to try and post for this one weekly, just so I have enough time between uni and work to write new chapters :) This one is a little long, but I needed to set up Reader's character a little more so enjoy!]

The Introduction <-

A New Friend, A New Enemy

“Y/n!”

You slip off your headphones and greet your grandmother with a smile, laughing when she squeezed you tight. It had been almost 8 months since you watched her wave her hand of farewell in the rear view mirror. You had missed her the most, you think. Her warm hugs, her calming perfume, the way she cared for you.

“Come on, I’ve made us some lunch.” She hurries you inside and you laugh again.

“I need to grab the rest of my things, first.” You shake your head in amusement, escaping her clutches and darting back to the taxi, thanking the man for pulling out your luggage.

Just as you hitch your duffel bag over your shoulder, your eyes catch something familiar a few houses down. A worn out and beaten Chevrolet sat abandoned outside of its former resident’s house, a white piece of paper resembling a ticket you had seen when the mechanics would return your property if not claimed. You could just make out the ‘for sale’ sign driven into the mud, your heart wrenching. You had hoped your return would be free from unwanted memories. That obviously didn’t exist in Hawkins.

“So, tell me everything. How’s Stanford?” Gran rushes through with excitement just as your feet are barely inside the door. “Oh, we are so proud of you, honey. Our little star, a Stanford journalist!”

“Gran, you know it’s only my first year, I haven’t even managed to write anything let alone publish it.” You say, following her with your bags. She was leading you up to the guest room. Well, technically, it was your room. You had never really accepted that.

“Oh, did you notice the Hargroves house is for sale?” She whispers out like an unspeakable secret, and you dump your bags on the floor.

“Yeah, I saw.” You try to remain emotionless, rolling your shoulder until the usual ache faded. You were used to it now, the muscles flaring up every now and then.

“Apparently- now, you didn’t hear it from me…” She starts to lean in and you suppress a smile. Your grandmother, the gossiper. “Apparently, the husband just took off.”

“What?” You suddenly gain interest, frowning.

“Oh, yeah. The end of last summer.” She nods knowingly. “Must have been hard for them after their son died. It was a tragedy. And that poor girl… Andrea down the road told me she and the mother were forced to move into the trailer park down by Kerley. Not fit for a child, if you ask me.”

“They obviously couldn’t afford anywhere else.” You say, mostly to yourself, and Gran simply hums in agreement.

“Oh, which reminds me, Melanie, the one with the bird nest hair, she…”

She begins rambling once again about the neighbourhood, obviously pleased to have her granddaughter back so she can share the gossip. You listened intently, nodding when you needed to, offering your own remarks when prompted. You loved your Gran. The thought of her being alone in this house affected you more than you realise.

The real reason you were back wasn’t because you had missed Hawkins. In fact, you were set on your Spring Break exploring Stanford and all it had to offer. But about two months ago, your grandad was omitted to the hospital and a week later, he was no longer with you. Your Gran had shared how his health had been deteriorating for a while now, that they had expected it sooner or later. So, in the end, it wasn’t a surprise. It didn’t make it any less sad.

“Should I be expecting guests for dinner?” She asks and you blink, frowning.

“Guests?”

“Your friends.” She reiterates, already busying her hands by pulling out your already folded clothes from your suitcase and refolding them how she liked it. “I assume everyone will be anxious to see you. It’s been eight months, hasn’t it?”

“Uh…” You purse your lips, shrugging. “I don’t know, I thought it could just be the two of us tonight.”

Gran gently places down a sweater and eyes you suspiciously. “So, you’ll be seeing them tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” You give off the first vague answer in your head, fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket and sitting down on the plush bedding behind you.

“Hm.” She sounds, sliding shut the first drawer before she silently walks around the bed and sits beside you. “You won’t be seeing them, will you?”

It wasn’t a question. You lift your eyes to meet hers and sigh.

“We aren’t as close as we were before, Gran. It’s… complicated.” You decide and she takes your hand in hers.

“You’ve known them since you were just a little sprout.” She ruffles your hair and you cringe, laughing and batting her hand away. “I’m sure whatever happened can’t be so complicated that you can’t… I don’t know, catch up over coffee? Or whatever you kids are doing these days.”

“I wish it was like that.” You say, and you meant it. After a moment, she seems to understand that you didn’t want to continue this particular conversation and she stands, brushing her outfit back into simple perfection.

“Well, sandwiches, anyone?” She offers and you grin, nodding.

The day before you left for Stanford, you were contemplating whether or not it was the right choice. Gran was right, you have known them since you were a kid. But last summer changed all of that. You weren’t sure you could see their faces ever again.

So, rather than try and find them, you decided to spend the next day unpacking. You’d be here for a month so it made sense to have everything neat and tidy. It was just until the funeral, and then you’d be back at college and studying away any memory of Hawkins being your home. Because it wasn’t. Not anymore.

You can hear the distant ring of the phone echoing up the stairs, continuing to pull out your books. You might as well be caught up with your classes if you were going to spend all your time inside.

“Y/n!” Gran calls up and you push away from the desk to lean over the banister.

“Yeah?” You ask as she stares up at you, the phone in her left hand while the right covered the receiver.

“It’s your friend.” She says with a small smile and your face drops into a frown. “She says it’s urgent.”

“Uh…” You shake your head. Who would be calling you? “Yeah, I’ll be down in a sec.”

Gran nods and relays the information, setting the phone on the side table and disappearing back into the kitchen.

Your footsteps were wary as you descend the staircase, eyes set on the white object beside one of your grandmother’s vases. There was a hauntingly familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through your body, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. Once you reach the table, you shift your focus to the photo frame. It was small, a collected memory from a few years ago now. You were stood there smiling, the camera capturing you in pleasant surprise when a brunette girl behind you had jumped onto your back. It made your eyes sting, and you knew you had to make the decision to answer the call.

Hesitantly picking up the phone, you hold it to your ear and close your eyes.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” Nancy’s voice blares through and your eyes snap back open.

Barrels of apologies and excuses spewed from her lips and you stand in silent shock, clutching the receiver a little too tight. She could only be calling for one reason. You had known it before you had even answered the phone.

Something was happening in Hawkins. Again. And if Nancy was calling for help, then she truly needed it.

And you’d never let her down.

“Have we met before?” You ask, studying the girl stood next to you.

The walls of the archive were surprisingly bright, shining an iridescent hue on her dark blonde locks. Her blue eyes were blinking back at you, pink lips stuck in a soft pucker of indecision. She was pretty. Really pretty. And at the same time she looked effortlessly cool, a jacket you wished you own. Something about her felt familiar to you, drawing you in.

Then a pang of guilt hits you and you force your concentration on waiting for her answer.

Robin felt weak. Who were you? It was taking everything in her to open her mouth and speak which, as literally everyone knew, was incredibly unlike her.

“I don’t think so.” Robin finally breathes out. There was softness in the way you spoke to her too, calming her nerves. Those strange waves of anxiety were being taken with the tide like you were her lighthouse in the stormy sea of her mind.

“Oh.” You scrunch your face with a smile. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

She was surprised to see you put out your hand but she willingly shakes it anyway, smiling back.

When you pull away, Robin seems a little more comfortable, coming closer to peer down at your old project folder, reading along with Nancy. You tried not to stare, busying your eyes with your own work in Nancy’s hands.

“Anything… juicy over there?” Robin asks Nancy and the girl throws her a tight lipped smile.

“Nothing new yet.” She responds and you notice the strain in her voice. She adopted it any time she was struggling to enjoy somebody’s presence.

“Victor seemed like a normal guy. Dead family, missing eyes, took a plea deal, sent to Pennhurst. Blah, blah, blah, blah.” Robin utters as she skims over the page below, slowly raising her head to look at Nancy. “What are we looking for exactly?”

Nancy doesn’t respond and continues flicking through the pages, making Robin’s eyes widen.

“Nance?” She tries again and you frown.

“She’s focused.” You offer, smiling. “She zones in so much that she zones out sometimes.”

“Right.” She nods slowly, still staring at her. “Um, so are we, uh… looking for any mentions of dark wizards or alternate dimensions? Things in that vein?”

You remember something and open your mouth to speak before Nancy interrupts with a huff.

“I don’t know, okay?” She sighs loudly, leaning against the desk and meeting Robin’s eyes. “It’s starting to seem like this was just a big waste of time. And you’re obviously bored so why don’t you just call Steve? I’m sure he’ll come pick you up. And I mean, I’m not really in danger here, so…”

With that, she walks away from the table and grabs another folder you had brought, furiously flipping through as she travels down a different staircase to the filing room. Your eyebrows raise.

“Woah.” You simply say, noticing Robin’s frown. “She’s, uh… hell, I don’t even know. Nance gets ultra focused when she thinks she has a lead on something and, well… she doesn’t like to get it wrong. Which is understandable.”

“So, she acts like this with other people?” She asks and you tighten your lips.

“Um…”

“Okay, that’s a no.” Robin groans, dragging her hands down her face. “I’m trying, I really am, I just struggle with whatever the hell bonding is meant to be, I mean me and Steve literally only bonded because we were both getting tortured and thought we would die. Which, no, not an ideal way to start a friendship but you know what, it’s better than whatever the hell this is.”

“You were at Starcourt?” You frown and she looks back at you, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” She waves her hands, “I, um… no one really mentions it anymore. Unless it’s the news and they’re pretending like it was a-”

“Fire, yeah. I heard.” You say, staring at the stairs Nancy descended. “How did all of this start?”

“Excuse me?” She blinks and you turn your attention back to her.

“This… Vecna, was it? How did it start?” You repeat, shaking your head. “Nancy could only tell me so much over the phone so I’m a little behind.”

“A girl was found dead in the trailer park.” Robin relays, gulping. “Chrissy Cunningham? She’s a cheerleader. Was. They found her with all her bones snapped and her eyes were… gone. They think Eddie Munson did it-”

“Eddie?” You gasp, and Robin looks surprised. “No, Eddie wouldn’t do that-”

“We know. Trust me.” She says hurriedly, “He told us everything that happened. Apparently she was floating in the air and her bones were snapping- it’s a really gruesome story but the same thing, like, just happened to Fred and we need to figure out who this Vecna is before someone else gets hurt.”

“Okay.” You breathe and she raises her brow.

“Okay? I just unloaded a dump of hell onto you, and it’s okay?” She sounded intrigued and you shrug.

“The last few years have been… weird. To the point where weird sounds normal now.” You say, a soft frown on your features.

Robin wasn’t entirely sure where you fit into all of this. Sure, you had information they needed, you’ve been a part of their group for some time, you made sense. What she was struggling to understand is why you were here now. And why you weren’t here before.

“How’d you meet everyone?” You ask before she can. Any thought she had of questioning your arrival was cleverly misplaced. For the moment.

“I worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last year.” Robin nods and you frown.

“But I never…” You start before your eyes widen, mouth curling into a smile. “Oh my god, yes! I do remember you!”

“You do?” Robin tries to comb back through her memories.

“Yeah, Max dragged me there maybe… a week after it opened? She was telling me about Steve’s little sailor outfit and of course, I didn’t believe her, so she had to show me proof.” You giggle to yourself, meeting her eyes. “I remember you were taking a break outside, Max introduced us. Well, kind of. She never got to my name before Steve arrived with that stupid frown on his face.”

“I don’t remember that.” She frowns and you bite your lip, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. “Sorry, I don’t mean that in like, a mean girl way. I mean, my memory is apparently broken because I’m very sure I would have remembered you. Not in a weird way, either, like- I just think you make an impression on people- a good one. Not a bad one.”

“It’s okay.” You laugh and she shakes her head enough to make her bangs sway in her embarrassment. “I looked a lot different then. And I was, like, super shy. I was probably hiding my face or something.”

“Hold on.” She blinks with a smirk. “You’re the girl? Like, the girl?”

“Am I meant to know what that means?” You squint your eyes.

Robin simply laughs to herself until she clocks your confusion. “No, I… Max did bring someone in for, like, one of our first ever shifts together. I remember because when they left, Steve looked like some kicked puppy and I couldn’t work with him and that stupid frown so I made him tell me what was bothering him. Apparently, the girl that left was the girl he couldn’t get in high school and it ‘haunts’ him. It’s so stupid.”

You go quiet and her eyes widen.

“Oh god.” She covers her mouth. “Did I talk too much again? God, I’m sorry- I literally can’t control my mouth.”

“No, you’re right.” You say, shaking your head. “Steve… he and I don’t really get along. Opposite ends of the high school popularity pool until I won this debate contest and suddenly everyone wanted to be my friend. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but suddenly I was on Steve’s radar and, well, you know the rest.”

“You can do better.” She simply nods and you raise your eyebrow at her remark. “What? Oh, he’s amazing now. Like, a genuine gentleman kind of guy, but King Steve? Whew, that boy needed a leash or something.”

“You guys are pretty close, huh?” You ask and she smiles.

“Yeah, he’s my best…” She begins before her face drops. Oh.

“What?” You ask when she starts walking away.

“I know why!” She exclaims before turning her heel and marching down those steps to Nancy, finding her sorting through the filing cabinet.

If Nancy heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it. Robin felt so stupid. It had been a while since she’d been a part of ‘girl world’ or, more specifically, ‘girl-code world’. The thought of there being any tension hadn’t even crossed her mind before.

“You do know that Steve and I are, like, totally not a thing, right?” Robin asks breathlessly, leaning against the wooden banister.

“What?” Nancy frowns, shaking her head and turning to look over her shoulder.

“So I figure that you and Jonathan are still going strong ‘cause you guys are going to college together, and you’re like one of those unstoppable power couples, but I… I just… I wanted to make sure that you knew that Steve and I are just friends. Like, platonic with a capital P.”

Nancy’s response in underwhelming at best, a tight lipped smile and Robin almost groans in frustration. She can hear your sneakers steadily descend the stairs and she turns back.

“Just in case that’s adding any tension between us.” She expresses to Nancy and you frown at the interaction.

“It wasn’t.” Nancy replies and Robin sighs.

“Uh…” You start to say, both pairs of eyes immediately looking at you. “Sorry to, um, interrupt. I have stuff I need to do…”

“Right.” Nancy blinks apologetically, looking back at the folder in her hands. “I’m so sorry, I really thought I was going to find something. I… I didn’t want to drag you into this, really, it’s just-”

“Hawkins.” You finish her sentence, stepping off the final stair and leaning against the banister. “Yeah, I know.”

“Holy shit.” Robin gasps, suddenly grabbing the folder out of Nancy’s hands despite her silent protest. “Is that from The Weekly Watcher?”

She points to a specific part of one of the tabs and you move to peer over her shoulder, nodding.

“Don’t they write about, like, Bigfoot and UFOs?” Nancy scoffs, already dismissing the idea.

“First of all, UFOs are absolutely real. Bigfoot I’m still on the fence about.” She comments and you hum agreement. “But may I remind you we are looking for information on dark wizards? If someone’s gonna write about that, it’s gonna be these weirdos.”

“She’s not wrong.” You add and Nancy’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Yeah, there’s a whole article about Victor Creel. He claimed that a vengeful demon killed his family. Obviously I only added a reference for context, I never actually believed it. You know, before…”

You vaguely gesture the space around you and Robin flips the page over.

“According to several insiders, Victor believed his house was haunted by an ancient demon.” Robin read aloud, and you could feel the goosebumps prickle along your skin. “Victor allegedly hired a priest to exorcise the demon from his home- pretty novel for the 50s, Exorcistwasn’t even out yet.”

“Keep- keep going.” Nancy insisted and Robin frowns.

“That’s all that’s here.” She says and Nancy looks at you.

“He claimed that the exorcism failed.” You recall, staring at the cut out photo of the Creel Family. “He said it angered the demon. It murdered his family, removing their eyes.”

“Did it say why he wasn’t killed?” Robin questions.

“Victor believed he was spared as a punishment.” You say with a twist in your stomach. His whole family died. He was all alone.

“Yeah, that’s pretty convenient for Victor.” Nancy mumbles and Robin frowns.

“Yeah, or super inconvenient.” She challenges, her eyes looking at yours for support. You simply nod, feeling sick. “Victor was declared legally insane by the court, right? Well, what if this is why? I mean, it sounds pretty insane, it just didn’t go public because-”

“The plea bargain.” Nancy jumps in, and you can see her trying to slot all the pieces together, “The records were sealed.”

“What if a demon did invade Victor’s home.” Robin glances between you both. “It’s just, this demon wasn’t any old demon.”

“It was Vecna.” Nancy finishes, and you immediately start shaking your head.

“Okay, you guys got everything you need?” You quickly rush out, sorting the folder around so it would shut. “Actually, you know what, you guys can just keep that, I need to-”

“You’re leaving?” Nancy frowns, following you as you jog back up the stairs and to where you had dumped your bag before. Robin hurriedly grabbed your folder and followed suit.

“Yeah, I told you, I have stuff to do.” You mutter an excuse, slipping your bag over your shoulder.

“But what about-”

“No, Nance.” You suddenly say, much stricter than you intended it to be. You pause your steps, taking a deep breath to look her in the eye. “I hate that there’s something new terrorising Hawkins. And I’m sorry you have to deal with it. I am. But that’s your choice. I can’t do this again.”

Robin stood there, clutching your folder to her chest. Nancy was struggling with her words, and you didn’t look like you were going to stick around long enough to hear them.

“We need you.” Robin blurts and you look at her, frowning. “I’m sorry, but we do. You know more about this case than any of us, you dedicated, what, a whole month? Maybe more? To learn about the Creel House, about the murders. You have information we can’t possible find because Hawkins doesn’t like to keep around its records of murder, and- and Nancy said you were great at this detective stuff which basically means you know what we need to do next.”

Rather than respond, you start weighing your options. The best decision you ever made was leaving all of this behind. Stanford had everything you wanted; hope. Anytime you decided to help them, it was always your life you were risking. That they were risking. Why would this time be any different?

“I really hope you win this.” You finally say, offering half a smile before you push through those doors and don’t look back, disappearing into the darkening shadows outside.

“Damn it.” Nancy curses, resting a hand on her hip and the other on a table.

“What happened between you guys?” Robin asks into the silence and Nancy looks up.

“What do you-”

“I don’t want a vague answer.” She says, still clutching onto the folder pressed against her chest. “She looked terrified. Which, yeah, it makes a lot of sense under normal circumstances. But this was more like PTSD kind of terrified. What the hell happened last year that no one’s telling me?”

The silence left Robin in the dark, Nancy’s features pouring over in restrained emotion.

By the time you had dug out your keys with trembling hands, you could feel the prickling of tears threaten to spill at any moment. They had no right to ask that of you. Especially not Nancy. She was there last year, she knows why you left. And yet again, none of them were listening to you.

You sat in your grandad’s old armchair for about an hour, a book resting on your lap but it remained untouched. It would just be another distraction, another reason to pretend like nothing was wrong. To stop yourself from remembering, feeling.

It’s why you went to Stanford, really. You didn’t care about journalism like you used to. But the work load was almost unbearable, which meant that every waking moment would need to be dedicated to studying. If you didn’t occupy your mind, you’d have to relive last year.

“Hi, sweetie.” Gran says as she enters the room, a shopping bag in one hand. You hadn’t even heard her key in the door. “Did you see your friends?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat, setting aside the book and leaning forward.

“What did you kids get up to?” She asks before quickly disappearing into the kitchen to set down her groceries. When she returns, you have your head in your hands.

You can feel her fingers gently pry away your hands as she takes the chair opposite you, smiling like she already knew what was going through your head. Looking at her, the way her eyes were glazing over, you felt so selfish. You had left to escape everything that happened last year, and you had left her for months to deal with it all alone. Here you were, wallowing in self pity because your friends hadn’t been there for you when you needed them, and it turns out you’re doing the exact same thing to her.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, wiping away the tear that trickles down your cheek. “I should have stayed with you and Grandad.”

“What?” She frowns lightly, shaking her head. “Darling, no. All we ever wanted for you was to get out into the world, find something that made you happy.”

“But I’m not happy.” You express, catching a sob that threatened to escape. “I just wanted to get away, get out of Hawkins. I wasn’t even thinking about it, I- I just couldn’t…”

Her hand suddenly finds your own, squeezing it tight.

“It’s okay.” She says and you lift your head up. She continued smiling, but it was much sadder now. “No one can expect you to move on from what happened last year as quick as that.”

“And what if I never move on?”

“It’s not about moving on.” She smiles. “It’s about acceptance. It’s about holding onto the memory because you cherish it, not because you are haunted by it.”

The clock in the distance could be heard counting the seconds as you sit there in silence. She was right, as per usual. You weren’t letting yourself feel. You should be embracing the fact that you still had her. Even with all Hawkins has been through, you still had her.

Your heart pangs with panic. She was still here.

“I should be getting to bed-”

“Come with me.” You offer suddenly and she raises her eyebrows.

“To Stanford?” She says as if it were absurd.

“I’m serious. Let’s move away, start fresh. We’ll find somewhere new, Gran. Please.” You beg and she offers a smile, capturing your hand by placing another on top.

“Hawkins is my home. It always has been. I was born here, I met the love of my life here. I watched my little one grow up and, when he had little ones of their own, I watched them grow up too. This is where my family is. I… I can’t leave.”

“No, don’t worry, I’ll get it.” You say, smiling. “You should get some rest.”

Your heart wrenches. If only she knew what you did. About what really happens in Hawkins, what lurks there in the dark. She can’t stay here, not when you know it isn’t safe. Not when she’s all you have left.

Three knocks echo out from the front door, and Gran shifts in her seat, quickly glancing at the clock. Who would be here at this hour?

“Thank you.” She stands with you, squeezing your hand as she dropped it. “Try and get some rest.”

You wait until she’s heading up the stairs and out of earshot before you rush to the door, gently brushing aside the small curtain and frowning at the silhouette. It wasn’t who you had expected.

The door is open barely four inches before she starts talking at you, ring-donned hands clasped together.

“Look, I know we’ve literally just met. And I probably- no, I definitely don’t have the right to ask you to stay with us, but we’re basically alone right now. Half of us are in California, we don’t have any connections in the sheriff’s department anymore. Everyone who would know what to do is gone, and you’re kinda the only person left who can help us. I get so much happened to you last year and I- I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but if there’s even a tiny part of you that wants to do this, then please listen to it. Please.”

Robin didn’t know what she was expecting when she left the school. Her feet had taken her further than her mind was planning, but she knew she had to find you. Max was in trouble, and they were all way in over their heads to not have help. Nancy refused to bother you any further, and she understood, she really did, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. This was bigger than all of them, bigger than everyone.

“Robin?” You say, brows scrunched together in surprise. She thins her lips.

“Sorry to just blurt that all out, but I didn’t know if you were just gonna slam the door on me- or maybe I’d forget what I wanted to say.” She explained, feeling the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you. “Max is in trouble.”

“What?” You sobered at the thought, leaning closer to her. Then, in a moment of split decision, you glance back up the stairs before stepping outside and closing the door behind you. “What happened?”

“We found a connection between all the victims.” Robin tries to explain, and you noticed how expressive she was with her hands. “Basically, Max has the same symptoms as the rest of them, and she’s, like, 100% sure she’s next of Vecna’s kill list.”

“Is she okay?” You ask, and Robin can see the desperation behind your eyes.

“Yeah. Shaken up, but she’s fine. For now.” She clears her throat, a pleading look as she stares at you. “We need to find Vecna as fast as we possibly can before he can get to her. I… I know about what happened last year. About your dad.”

You seem taken aback by her knowledge, eyes darting down to your shoes.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to leave all of this behind.” She sympathises, and she let herself be much calmer than she felt. “But I’m asking you if you’ll help us.”

Your heart was aching as you wipe your sweaty palms against your jeans, barely even feeling the cold rush of wind hitting your bare arms. You had meant what you said earlier; you couldn’t do this again. It took everything in you to move out of Hawkins, go to college and live a life the person you loved the most couldn’t do anymore.

But you were currently stood in front of a door. And behind that door, was the last person you had left, and she wasn’t planning on leaving her home any time soon. As it turned out, fleeing wasn’t an option for everyone else.

“I’ll do it.”

Robin blinks, studying you for any ounce of uncertainty. You looked deadly serious.

Maybe, just maybe, with you by their side, they were taking down Vecna after all.

taglist: @kryztalglear @officerrrfriendly @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean @spacedoutdaydreamer @em16cor @endurexxsurvive

[if you see your name highlighted in pink, it means that tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! i am trying to figure out the reasons behind this but it could be as simple as visibility settings so please check that <3]

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #nancy wheeler #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x reader #robin x reader #robin buckley #sapphic #sapphic fic #st4 fanfic #st4

[thefandomlesbian]

The Canopener

A House MD one-shot for @gaylilsherlock. In which Stacy leaves, and Wilson must help House pick up the pieces.

link to AO3

...

Fat raindrops blistered the windshield of Wilson’s car, the wind threatening to veer his car off the slickened asphalt as he pulled into the parking lot at Baker Street. The nor’easter tearing down the coastline had punctuated the news channels all day, but he had never been more immune to the stinging sideways sheets of water or the lightning splintering the navy-gray dusk of autumn. 

Stacy had called him. “I packed while he was at PT. I’m leaving.” She heard his silence as frigid rather than stunned. “I know you don’t think I should. It’s my only option.”

“It’s not the only option.” Wilson was begging, though it didn’t sound like begging. “He needs you.” 

“He hates me.”

“ And he needs you.” He licked his lips, knowing intrinsically he had lost this battle before he even knew he was fighting. He took one last stab at it. “You owe it to him to see it through. You chose this for him.” 

“I shouldn’t have.”

Wilson shattered like glass. “You saved his life.”

“I know.” Stacy ended the call. Wilson didn’t know if he would ever speak to her again. He didn’t know if he ever wanted to speak to her again. House could be a cantankerous bully. But she loved him, or at least, she was supposed to. How could she leave? How could she regret saving him? Wilson would never leave. (Wilson existed in other people’s lives without ever taking his clothes out of his luggage, always one emotional flight away from permanent severance, but for House, he could make every exception.)

The rain smarted through his blazer like paintballs as he entered the apartment building. Usually, he thought of it as rather tranquil, but today, it was sedated, like the human body in active stages of dying. The stormy winds knocked death rattles from the foundation of the building, throaty moans exhaling from the old stone before he had lifted a hand to knock on the apartment door. 

He didn’t announce himself. He knocked twice, and then he entered the unlocked door.

All of the lights were turned off in the living room, only the dim daylight filtering in through the windows. Wilson went for the lamp. “Don’t.” House spoke from somewhere in the room filled with darker silhouettes on dark backgrounds. So, standing back, he waited for his eyes to adjust. 

Everything was gone. All of their pictures, her trinkets, the quilt throw she kept over the back of the couch. She left the furniture—all of that had been there when she arrived. And she left House. 

Wilson presumed House hadn’t been on the floor when Stacy walked out the door of his life, but in any case, he was there now, curled up on his left side in the fetal position, forearm tucked pathetically under his head, baleful expression on his face. His boxer shorts fell just above the glossy sheen of the wound vac dressing on his leg, tubing disconnected and dangling loosely over the floor. The suction canister was plugged into the wall a few feet away. 

“Okay. You’ve had floor time. Let’s get up.” Picking House up off of the floor wasn’t a new task. Stacy wasn’t strong enough to get him up when he fell, or rather, House loved her too much to put his weight on her shoulders. They sent up flare gun distress signals in the night for Wilson to come help. This was no different.

House slapped his hands hard. “Don’t touch me.” It was so different. 

“You can’t lie on the floor forever.” Wilson withdrew only a few inches to examine the tubing of the wound vac. “We need to plug this back in. It’s meant to be continuous suction for a reason.” 

Snaking the tubing back up to himself protectively, House poised over it like a predator preparing to strike; no, like a cat cowering over its kittens in the face of a forest fire, terrified and desperate. “Stupid thing won’t stop fucking beeping.”

Wilson picked up the suction canister and examined the screen. “The line is clotted off.”

“I know.”

“The dressing needs to be changed.”

“I know! ” House snapped. His mouth twisted into a sneer. 

Again, Wilson squatted to grab him. House withdrew, but Wilson was faster. “Let’s get you up.” He took him under the arms like a child, the way he always did, their faces close together, Wilson keeping his back straight and his knees bent to lift without hurting himself, an insanely vulnerable position. In the darkness of the living room, he didn’t see House pull back his closed fist. 

The impact of knuckles to jaw knocked him backward onto his ass, vision going skewed as he fumbled to right himself in shock. He propped his weight onto his elbows to peer at House, who looked just as shocked as Wilson was. Shocked and frightened, dragging himself backward, a panicked anguished sheen of tears appeared in his quicksilver eyes, left knee bending upward to defend his vital organs. He was prepared to be hurt. 

Stabbing pain pulsed through his face. He probed the area with deft fingers. Then, shakily, he got to his knees—his knees, not his feet, crawling toward House like an infant. His trousers picked up all the silt on the hardwood floor, which seemed to have gone unswept for weeks. House only gave up scooting away from him when his back hit the wall. His chest heaved in a fractured, stifled sob, the breath catching there and lingering, unable to hold it and unable to free it. 

When a sound finally came out of him, it was the high-pitched, pressurized squeak of air being released from a balloon incredibly slowly. 

A hefty clink and loll on the floor caught Wilson’s attention. A can of Beanee Weanees rolled away from House’s hand. He swiped at it, a weak grab, before he conceded defeat and curled back into himself, not meeting Wilson’s gaze, whole body braced for Wilson to attack him. 

Wilson didn’t. He picked up the dented can of Beanee Weanees, the label starting to wear off from being dinged and beaten on the floor. 

“She took the canopener,” House croaked. 

Wilson nodded once. He rocked his weight back onto his haunches, reaching into his trouser pocket for his multitool. It had a dozen extensions, each of which House had mocked on more occasions than either of them could count, but when he flicked out the blade of the manual canopener and popped the tin lid off of the can, House was silent. He still braced for the impact of a punch. 

Wilson didn’t put the open can in House’s hand. He placed it on the floor next to him. Then, he sidled up beside him, back to the wall, shoulders almost touching. They sat with parallel postures like synchronized swimming, left knees bent, right legs extended, hands in their laps, both facing the blank wall where Stacy’s pictures had hung. 

House didn’t have a spoon. He picked up the can. Wilson stilled his wrist. “You’ll cut your mouth.” The touch froze House’s muscles, but the fingers wrapped around his forearm were warm, dry from years of sanitizing obsessively, soft from his favorite strawberry-scented hand lotion. House had often mocked that, too, but now, the sweet scent was the only thing in his apartment that felt like home. 

Holding eye contact with Wilson, he brought the jagged edge of the open tin to his lips, slurping some frank chunks and brothy beans from inside it. The tin was acrid when his tongue incidentally brushed the rim. The edge of the can didn’t cut into his skin, quite a matter of accident rather than skill. After his long sip of beans, he put the can back on the hardwood floor between their hips. 

A long moment of silence passed. Then, Wilson picked up the can and also poured a mouthful into his lips. His hands were shaking, jaw swelling and bruised. The razor-sharp point of torn metal grazed his lower lip. He licked the blood away before House could see. 

“You hate Beanee Weanees,” House said. 

“Yeah,” Wilson said. He took another sip. 

#house md #house md fanfic #hilson #house x wilson #james wilson #gregory house #hilson fanfic

[sparklingyandere]

Oh god, yae, lmaoo she is mad! I'm so grateful! Thank you! I hope that you don't see me as a stalker lol. Um... If i can, can i get yandere scaramouche again, but this time~ male reader manage to escape and run into traveler.

Now scaramouche want to kill traveler but he just can't, he try from day to weeks and then go into month. Now what if he just walk in a random place and saw reader is having a smut time with aether he can hear them see them but he can't attack them cuz ya know? Plot lol. I just want to see a lil scara getting jealous and angry. (Probably cuz he saw reader as a sl-)

title: adulterer. 

summary: yandere scaramouche/male reader/aether

word count: 2.9k

warnings: yandere, cheating, jealousy, unhealthy relationships, implied nsft, weird pacing

a/n: i strayed from the prompt a little to make this work sfw, i hope thats ok <3

“Remember,” Kunikuzushi says, lifting his overcoat off the rack, “Two days. Don’t act a fool while I'm gone.” 

You nod curtly, standing with your hands folded politely in front of you, waiting for him to leave. The fatui agent standing next to him watches you, peeking over suitcase stacked on suitcase in his arms, almost too much to balance. It seemed like too much luggage for a two day trip, but Kunikuzushi was nothing if not luxurious. 

You wonder, briefly, why the agent is staring at you so intensely, before you notice that Kunikuzushi is also glaring holes into you.

Ah, right. He's still holding the coat. 

You take it from his hand and he extends an arm out to you, allowing you to slide the coat sleeve over his smooth skin. He sighs contentedly, and you repeat the process along his other arm, adjusting the shoulders of the coat neatly, all while he keeps his eyes trained on your face. You stand in front of him, meeting his stiff gaze, his deep indigo eyes betraying no warmth. 

You turn your eyes downwards to the buttons of the coat, one by one, fixing them to each other. He has two perfectly good hands, you think, seeing as he can’t be bothered to carry his own belongings. But no, you must button his coat for him. Sometimes you felt more like another servant than a husband. 

…Most times. 

You wonder if he gets off on watching you do this, some kind of ridiculous power play, or if he truly believes he deserves to have his coat buttons done for him. Maybe both. 

You return to his gaze as you finish. "Safe travels, my Lord," you say, attempting your most convincing 'i'll-miss-you' smile. 

He looks satisfied enough, though he doesn't return your smile. He turns to leave, exiting through the door, his bodyguard-slash-bellboy following in tow. No wave or good-bye. 

The click of the door sliding into its threshold resounds through the otherwise silent entrance hall, instantly, your shoulders slack and you sigh heavily. Finally, he was gone. 

You scurry to your room to gather the materials for your plan. It would take you at least the rest of the night to get ready, and you only had two days, you couldn’t waste time. 

The guard posted at your bedroom door shifts on his feet anxiously. If Kunikuzushi came home and found out you were gone, he would be punished whether he helped you or not. Lucky for you, he was just as sick of Kunikuzushi as you were, and with a little convincing, he agreed to help you get out of your personal hell. 

Just a little more time and you’d both be running for the hills. You smile at him as you pass through your door, he looks away. 

The door clicks shut behind you and you kneel beside your wardrobe, sticking your arm underneath the tiny gap between the dresser and the floor. You feel around…. And your hand touches cold plastic. You pull it out, trembling with excitement. 

The bag contains some hastily sewn-together plain black clothes, a few hundred mora you’d stolen piece by piece over time, and a crude hand-drawn map. Not the most creative escape care package ever, but under Kunikuzushi’s watchful eye, it was hard to throw together even this much. 

You shuffle into the clothes. The seams are uncomfortably thick from your hack job attempt at tailoring, and in some parts they feel like they’re about to burst. Well, they only needed to last tonight. 

You study your map, tirelessly, until you can see it clearly with your eyes closed. The first place he’d expect you to go is the city, so you’ll go to the mountain. It’s big, with lots of little hiding places. After the storm is over, you’ll look for civilization- you aren’t native to Narukami Island, but you hear the mountain is home to a shrine. They’d have to help you. 

The guards would probably realize you disappeared sometime early tomorrow, if not earlier. Which meant Kunikuzushi could be on your tail in under 24 hours, so you scribble a note on the nightstand to hopefully throw him off. 

‘I’m sorry. I’m going home.’ 

There. Simple, and not too obvious, so he wouldn’t know it was a lie. Should be perfect. 

With everything in place, you look out the window. Dim moonlight just barely shines through, and you know it’s time. 

~

You slip the guard half of your measly savings. Was it a bribe for helping you, or was his salary so pathetic that he needed it as much as you did? You didn’t know, but it helped you feel a little less guilty for dragging him into your mess. Maybe he was some local hero in his hometown, and you were giving him a death sentence by invoking The Balladeer’s rage. 

Or maybe he deserved it. Maybe all fatui are the same, and he was some war criminal, and when Kunikuzushi hunted him down for aiding you, he’d just be getting what was coming to him. It didn’t matter, because he distracted the front door guards just long enough for you to slip away into the dark, and you’d never see him again. 

~

The moon sits high in the sky, casting faint shadows under your feet. The foot of the mountain is surrounded by a thick, lush forest. The forest itself almost gave off an unwelcoming aura, and the idea of going in made you nervous… but you were out of options, so you made your way into the dense woods, one step at a time. 

The woods are much darker than the plains, the thick crown of the trees acting like an umbrella, blocking out the light of the moon. It's almost hard to see where you’re going. But it’s well hidden and quiet, so at least you can slow down a little. 

It’s much past your bedtime, you think. That, and your lungs ache from running. The wet dirt squelches under your bare feet, and you tiredly wonder when you’ll find a safe place to rest. If you could just find somewhere dry… 

Your eyelids droop slowly and you sigh heavily. Your feet come in contact with a soft patch of grass, and you aren’t picky enough to stop yourself from laying down. The search party wouldn't set out until dawn. You can be up before then. You close your eyes, just for a few hours…

~

“Helloo~~? Earth to Tree-hugger?"

You're abruptly shaken from your sleep by a squeaky voice, sitting up quickly and searching for the source. 

Beams of sunlight stream through the trees around you, dawn has long passed. You overslept. 

The voice that woke you came from a little floating imp-thing, who was waving her short arms in front of your face. Behind her stood a young man in dark clothes, sporting a long blond braid. 

Well… They certainly didn't look like fatui scouts. But you still had to be cautious.

"What? Tree-hugger?" you ask, standing up. The little one looks about to reply, but you remember your circumstances before she can form the words. "Actually, nevermind. I need to get the hell out of here." 

The man speaks next, "Wait. What are you doing sleeping on the grass outside?" 

"Yeah! Most people at least pitch a tent first. Do you like the ground that much?" says the pixie. 

It seemed like they didn't know who you were, but it could be a trap. Testing the waters, you answer: "I feel asleep while… avoiding someone. Trying to get to Narukami Shrine." You look around at the forest surrounding you… All the trees look the same. "Can you point me the way?" 

The stranger smiles sympathetically, "If you're avoiding someone, do you want an escort? We're headed that way ourselves." 

"Follow a stranger to a place I've never been? How do I know this isn't a trick?" you ask. The two glance at each other before the small one speaks. 

"Haven't you heard of the Mighty Traveller? Tamer of dragons and slayer of gods?" she gloats, pointing to her companion. 

You stare in confusion. "Who?" 

"I'm Aether, this is Paimon," the blond, Aether, explains, "We thought everyone had heard of us by now." You can practically see the gears turn in his head while he tries to rationalize not being recognized. "You said you were running from someone. What happened?" 

~

The duo convince you to travel with them as you explain your situation to them, deciding that if anyone could help you, it was these two oddballs. 

Though it takes you a few minutes to well up the courage to be truthful, you manage to admit who exactly you're running from. Aether silently gives a shocked expression, while Paimon reacts very strongly, shouting a slew of insults about your husband that you couldn't help but agree with. 

About halfway up the mountain, Aether tells you the shrine probably wouldn't be the safest place to hide from a Harbinger, as it wasn't exactly a private location. He talks about a safe house in Inazuma city, belonging to some of his associates. He tells you he could get you a private room, and you'd be safer there. 

"The city is the first place he'll look," you argue.

"Maybe so, but the shrine is the second place." Aether sighs before continuing, "At least consider it. I'll keep an eye out on the city, and after it's clear of people searching for you, I'll escort you to the teahouse myself. Okay?" 

Hesitantly, you agree. 

~

The Guuji of the shrine, lady Yae, takes kindly to Aether's presence, promising to help you out on his behalf.

Aether explains the nature of your visit, and at the mention of Scaramouche's name, she frowns.

So far, everyone you've met has had a personal dislike for your husband. Maybe that was why he never let you socialize. 

Aether puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Will you be okay?" he asks. You nod, he gives you a comforting squeeze. "I'll be back." 

He and Paimon leave the shrine.

~

Lady Yae gives you new, clean clothes, since you no longer had use for your 'escape' outfit. 

Since you can't pass as a shrine maiden, you have to stay inside the shrine until Aether comes back. Fine by you, you really need to be alone with your thoughts anyways. 

The past 24 hours have been a blur. You ran away from the only home you've known in years successfully, slept in the woods, met an apparently famous adventurer, found out your husband was a war criminal (though you already had your suspicions about that one), and were now hiding out in a shrine. All in barely two days. 

These experiences were so new to you. Of course, you had a life before Kunikuzushi picked you up, but it wasn't nearly as adventurous as this. You'd barely left Inazuma City before Kunikuzushi came along and wooed you with his gold and silks and bad boy mystique. 

Not to mention, you'd been his sheltered househusband for so long, you sort of… forgot. How it felt to be free.

Though, you weren't quite free yet, your prison had just temporarily changed shape while you waited out Kunikuzushi's thunderstorm. Soon, though, you could go wherever…

No, even with the traveler's help, you'd be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life… if Kunikuzushi ever found you, he'd take you right back home. 

Aether was so kind to try and shield you from him. 

~

The rest of the day passes slowly, a shrine maiden bringing you modest meals every few hours, hearing no news from Lady Yae or Aether. Eventually, you curl up and fall sleep on the futon. 

The next morning is equally uneventful. A few young maidens sit in the room with you and teach you to play a card game, though you aren't very good. 

One shrine maiden even brings you a fortune slip.

…

Misfortune.

…

Well, it's just a silly slip.

~

Aether shows up in the evening.

The Balladeer has sent out 'undercover' agents all over Inazuma City, many of which have been chased out by guards. Small, scattered search parties have also been deployed across all of Narukami island. The agents are, apparently, under strict orders to not say what (or who) they are looking for. 

"It's probably time to move you to the city. The search party could be here any time," Aether says. You're hesitant to accept.

Paimon's chipper voice tunes in, "Yae will just turn them away of course, but won't that just make the Balladeer more suspicious?" She makes a good point…

Aether looks into your unsure eyes, "I'll get you there safely. I promise, no one will get you." 

The feeling of his steady hands on your shoulders comforts you. His hands are calloused and strong, like the hands of a hard worker, who has had to earn his livelihood. They are opposite to Kunikuzushi's smooth, dainty hands, like that of a doll. The hands of someone who has never had to lift a finger to get where he is. It's so strange how such soft hands were capable of causing so much harm…

You don't even notice you've spaced out until you hear Aether call your name. 

"Are you okay?" he asks. 

You snap out of your daze and reply, "Yeah. Okay, we can go." 

Aether smiles. It's a warm smile that fills you with comfort, a a welcome contradiction to the cruel smile you'd grown so used to.

~

Inazuma city had changed much since you'd last seen it, though you'd barely gotten to see much at all as Aether quickly guided you through alleyways and discreet paths to keep you as far from prying eyes as possible.

The teahouse looked very quaint, so much so, you question the validity of Aether's promise of safety. He assures you, gently, that he and his friends will stop at nothing to keep Scaramouche and his goons out. 

The room designated to you is comfortable, much more so than that of the shrine. You're grateful to be able to take respite in such a nice place, though you wonder how long this kindness will be extended to you. Aether wasn't your friend, you were just another stranger he was helping. He wouldn't protect you forever- something more important would come up eventually. Or maybe he'd get tired of it. 

Despite this, Aether spent the majority of the day in your room with you, just sitting and talking- wasn't he supposed to be liberating the country or something?

You ask why you were worth all this trouble.

"Well, you really need it. Where would you be right now if I hadn't helped you?" he asks, rather smugly. 

It was a good question though. You'd probably either be hiding in some dark crevice, or… 

"Fair enough," you reply. 

You, Aether, and Paimon enjoy each other's company for a while longer, until you feel compelled to go to the lobby to use the restroom. 

Why a place like this would have one bathroom in the lobby instead of personal ones was a bit beyond you, but it's not like you could design a building any better. 

It seemed the other guests had mostly left or gone to sleep, and the dog from the front desk was also absent. It was kind of… eerie. This place had been bustling with activity when you arrived. Seeing it so empty was sort of unnatural.

The hallway ends with you rounding the corner into the main room and coming face to face with two dark eyes you’d almost forgotten. Almost. 

In an instant, Kunikuzushi grabs your arm in a vice grip, so tight you can feel the scratch of his blunt nails through the fabric of your sleeve. Words catch in your throat, but you can still feel the temptation to apologize and beg for forgiveness. You resist the urge. 

“You think you can hide from me?” he spits, “I gave you more luxuries than your little brain could comprehend. And you thank me by running off with the outlander?” His eyebrows are cinched tightly in a fury you’ve never seen from him before. He was angrier than you think he’s ever been in his life- to be expected, you guess. 

You’re unable to find the strength to talk back, just staring in abject horror. Upon seeing your hesitance to argue, he starts to pull you towards him. “We’re leaving,” he says. You keep your feet steady on the ground. 

“Aether!” you scream, tugging your arm away from him, his grip loosening just enough for you to escape. A shuffling sound is heard at the end of the hallway. 

You see a brief flash of what looks like worry in his eyes, but it quickly dissolves into the rage you knew too well. “This isn’t over,” he says, backing away, “You’re MY husband. Enjoy playing house with the street rat.” 

He’s gone out the door just as Aether runs around the corner, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“What happened?” he asks. His voice is soothing, even though he probably doesn’t even intend it, and you relax under his touch. Paimon floats curiously beside him, and you turn to bury your head in Aether’s shoulder. Hesitantly, he puts his arms around you. 

You would tell Aether what happened soon. He needed to know, of course, but right now you just needed this silence. Even Paimon was quiet. 

You inhale a shaky breath. He would be back.

#i know komore teahouse is more like a restaurant than a hotel but sometimes we have to lie #this is not proofread be nice to me but lmk if i fucked something up #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere x male reader

[that-one-gay-writer1227]

30-Day Writing Challenge day Three: Texting/Messaging/Letters (Xiao x Reader)

Sumeru city. You were commissioned all the way to Sumeru city for your job as a sketch artist for clothes designs. You worked for a small shop in liyue harbor that took jobs from all over Teyvat. Given your position of a much higher rank, your boss Mr. Lei preferred to keep you and your team on base but as of recently, things have been shorthanded; thus why you got the notification earlier this morning.

You were at your smaller apartment, packing a few small bags you'd set on your bed so that you could fill whatever you could. You've never been to Sumeru, what were you supposed to pack? Is it hot, cold, wet, or dry? As you were doing your best to keep your clothing folded but moving hurriedly to make the trip in time, you hadn't even noticed a certain yaksha appear right behind you. You went to turn around, running directly into him.

You looked up to meet his ever-golden eyes with a wide smile, "Hey Xiao, I didn't notice you were there. what brings you here?" He didn't answer for a moment as he looked at your luggage confused.

"Why are you packing?" Was all he asked monotonously. Underneath his tone was a hint of anxiety, but he was so damn good at masking it that anyone that didn't know him would've missed it. You looked back at your bed and then at him once more realizing he was focused on.

"Oh...I have a commission in Sumeru that I can't turn down. The Akademiya is hosting a gala, and they hired me to make some of the girls' designs and to send them in. It'll only be a couple of weeks I promise." Despite your explanation he still seemed to be upset at your response.

For the past nine months, you and Xiao have been friends. After meeting one day when you found yourself late for work, he saved you and your job. Little did you know, your tardiness would be the spark that started this newfound friendship, and 'something more one day' you hoped.

Not many people got to befriend this adepti, and you knew that. Something about him was sad underneath his cold exterior. You could tell that there was more to the surface and that you wanted to be the one he let his walls down for. That's why you hated the idea of leaving like this. You'd just finally got to the point where he felt comfortable with you, and it made you feel guilty.

"It can't be helped. You have to fulfill your duties, though I will miss our talks," He responded after a moment of silence. His face broke your heart. You didn't want to hurt him, so you came up with a solution.

~~~~~~~~

The first letter you received from Xiao wasn't exactly a long one, that's for sure.

You took the single sheet from its envelope, noticing that it was only a few paragraphs long. Xiao's handwriting was incredible, maybe that's just part of living for thousands of years. You learn how to write so beautifully.

A small smile breached your face as you read the first paragraph. His wording and conversation felt a little shy and awkward. He stumbled over himself a few times and the letter felt a little dry, but his message was still there. Hidden, but there.

The bottom line is that he was thinking of you, and he cared. you set your sketchbook and bag down on the table of the inn you were staying at and grabbed a few pieces of paper to write your reply.

The reply was simple. You explained how you were, and about our day. Archons how your day had been shit. You were feeling self-conscious about your work and underestimated the number of people that were wanting a design. You wrote down about how you spilled some of your drink on some of the older designs and how you had to redo them by the next day.

You didn't want the letter to be all bad, so you wrote about how you saw this really pretty bird. It had landed on your book while you were finishing one of your sketches. The birdie had jade green feathers, a few black feathers, and some blue. You wrote about how it had reminded you a little of xiao. You were sure he'd find a bit of humor in that, and if not then oh well. You wrote about how you missed him and couldn't wait to come home to see him again.

Sealing the envelope you walked down the hall and dropped the paper down the mail chute, closing the door with a thump.

~~~~~~~

The 8th day was a little better than the last few had been. You had gotten all the designs remade and got through a sturdy handful of clients.

Once again it was evening time and you went back to your room at the inn. Seeing another letter from your favorite Adeptus. You opened the much larger envelope and took out what seemed to be about four pages and a flower that was preserved.

reading through the letter, Xiao mentioned that the flower reminded him of you, and he asked Zhongli if Ms. Hu Tao would have anything that would preserve the plant. Much to his surprise they did, and Ms. Tao had the flower preserved and packed away for you.

In this much longer letter, Xiao wrote about missing you, and how he wanted to see you the moment you got back to liyue.

Today's letter felt much more relaxed and genuine. You could tell he was significantly more comfortable with writing nightly messages as you call them.

This was letter number 7, and you felt thrilled that you and he could share the letter-exchanging experience. You knew you were going to keep your letters until the day you left this existence since they reminded you just how much he cared when so many others didn't.

You took a seat at your desk and began writing, as you did so routinely and as you would for the following week until you returned to the one you hoped felt just the same for you.

#xiao x reader #xiao x reader fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact #xiao fluff #xiao x you #xiao needs a hug #genshin boys #xiao #yn #fluff #idk what to tag this as #lol

[weisssilver88]

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[samsolly2004]

A new beginning

Chapter 3

<- previous : next->

The boat trip went smoothly. Marcel would have thought that having island devils with them would be hard, since they—the good Eldians on Marley—were the ones paying the price.

To Marcel, they seemed to be normal. He didn't always have the best judgement in people (his younger brother was better), but he didn't always judge a book by its cover, as they had been taught. You never know; they could be wolves in sheep's clothing.

He was watching their every move, especially the kids. They may appear cute and adorable, but he will not be fooled! He knows how to be swayed by cute looks. His brother (who thinks he's cute) always managed to get what he wanted from him, knowing he has a soft spot for him and knows how to use it correctly against him.

The adults didn't seem all that threatening to Marcel, if he were honest. He thought of it this way: What are a grandpa and two soldiers who look harmless going to do to him, an obviously trained warrior? And he had Zeke with him, who was ten times stronger than him.

His biggest mistake was to underestimate them. They may look like nothing, but they were still strong.

He was unloading the luggage the island devils had brought with them, and packing everything on such short notice was impressive. Zeke and the blonde solider, Hana, Hanma, he wasn't sure, but they both left him to his own advice to go and follow the trio after the tiny trio ran away from them in excitement. He was sure it was the blonde kid; he did seem like the excited type. And the other soldier didn’t look like he was moving from his place to help Marcel. He didn’t really know where Mr. Arlet was, but he might be with Zeke.

Going back to the ship to pick up the last few cases, he found Mr. Arlet holding them. which caught him off guard because how did this fragile-looking man manage to hold not only one but two!? So, him being the nice gentleman he is, went to pick them up from him, not thinking how heavy they could be. The old man was holding it like it was a piece of paper, so it shouldn't be heavy.

So why can't he hold it? Why is it so heavy? And, most importantly, how did an elderly man manage to hold not one, but two of these cases!?

"It's fine, really, young Galliard. I can hold them just fine," the older man reasoned, but Marcel was unconvinced. It looks like he needs to up his training.

"Please call me Marcel. There's no need for formality," he gasped out, after setting the two heavy cases next to the rest of the luggage.

Kaito smiled and said, "Young Marcel, thank you for your help. Me and the kids will handle things from here."

Marcel didn't understand what the man meant, and before he got the chance to question him, Zeke has already accomplished this.

"Not so fast, Mr. Arlet. I have just finished reporting everything to Commander Magath, and he has an apartment outside of the internment zone ready for you and Armin."

"Please, thank your commander for us then," he said thankfully. "Let's go, you three."

"Zeke! Are you insane!?Living outside of the internment zone? What were you thinking when the commander told you!?"

"Don't think I didn't try? That man is stubborn as a brick!" replied the blonde, just as irritated as the brunette. 

"Wait, Mr. Arlet!" yelled Marcel, making the man stop and face them, "What do you mean outside of the internment zone!? Something like that means death for Eldians, Zeke! And you just let the commander do it!?"

"What makes you think I didn't try to stop him? He said something about new rules, and they will be set to work on both Eldians and Marlyans to protect both populations.

"Rules, my ass!" he barked madly, and a couple of coughs reminded him that there were children present. "They won't survive a day outside of the internment zone, and you know it!" he whisper-shouted, hoping that Mr. Arlet wouldn't hear, which thankfully he didn't. He was distracted by the tiny trio.

"Don't worry, Marcel." he put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I won't let anything happen to them."

"Over my dead body," he assured them.

"They could die! And all of this would be done for nothing!" he whisper-shouted, making sure they still didn't hear him. He was trying to stop Zeke from doing this. He was trying to stop them from having more blood on their hands.

"They are innocent, Zeke! They-"

"Young Zeke, is there something wrong?" The voice of Mr. Arlet cut them off.

"Not at all, Mr. Arlet," he smiled, "Let's go; I will be showing you the way around."

Marcel watched them leave. He watched as they walked away from him with Zeke, who was leading them to death's door.

○●°•

"Hey Zeke," called Marcel. "Why did you let Eren and Mikasa live with the Arlets?" he questioned curiously.

Zeke had shown them around and made sure they arrived safely at their new apartment. He was hesitant to leave them alone, but Mr. Arlet's firm and strong face made him relax a little.

"It's temporary," answered the blonde curtly, "but I still have to tell my grandparents about it, about them, about the whole situation."

"You still haven't told them?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn't understand, unfortunately, why the blonde was taking so long. He thought the blonde would tell them as soon as he finished showing the island devils—er, the Eldians on Paradise—around.

Zeke shook his head. "It's not that easy. My father is a sore topic for them and for all of us. Bringing it up now, after years, might be hard, and what I still need to figure out is how to tell them."

"Right," he said nervously, "Do you have any idea how you'll do it?"

Zeke stayed silent for a moment before answering, "I'll get everything ready first before telling them. I need to get my sh*t together first before doing anything at all."

And now that Marcel has thought about it, family talks were always a no-go topic for Zeke in their group, and even if he did talk about them, it was always in small details just to keep the small talks going. Nothing more, nothing less. Zeke has also gone through so much because of his father, and maybe seeing Eren and Mikasa go through the same thing did something to Zeke as it awakened something within him in the process.

Because Marcel just imagined himself getting abandoned by his own parents, and he knew he wouldn’t take it as lightly as they did. He wouldn't just hear it like he was expecting it. He would cry, demand answers, and beg his parents not to leave him. He might not know the whole story, but it's just harsh. Why get kids if you won't care for them? Why give birth to them if you won’t raise them and love them? What’s the point? Marcel may not know, and he's not sure if Zeke, Eren, or Mikasa do, but he'll be there for them. They too deserve to have a family.

Marcel looked towards Zeke, who looked to be lost in thought. He decided to let him be for now, but he'll be sure to be there to help him with anything he needs. He was an older brother himself, and Zeke had their backs so many times on missions and in reports when they messed up. It was time to return the favor!

○●°•

Zeke was ready.

He had everything ready to properly raise a child in a safe environment. He was able to score an apartment outside of the internment zone, just next to the Arlets, so they were going to be neighbors. He properly protected the apartment from any danger that could injure or harm Eren or Mikasa in any way. He cleaned it and got them new, comfortable beds and sheets for each of their rooms. He prepared himself to help them decorate their rooms to their liking; he was ready to spend money. He learned how to cook a balanced meal to keep a child healthy. He bought them new clothes of better quality than the ones they had back in Paradise.

He even purchased a few books to help him enhance his knowledge of parenting. Books like "Parenting 101," "How to Deal with Traumatized Kids," "How to Parent," and "How to Be a Parent" They have helped for the most part, but they didn’t help with how to reveal the news to someone.

He learned all of that in a matter of a month. all while also visiting his newfound siblings and trying to get to know them better. It was hard trying to balance life between work, preparation, and being there for his siblings, but he managed to get through it.

He was ready with everything. With everything but telling his grandparents. He was sure they would end up loving Eren and Mikasa, but he still had that voice in his head telling him that if he told them, it wouldn't end well, and he had a feeling that voice would end up being right. And no matter how much he read or got ready, nothing had prepared him enough for telling his grandparents. His fear was growing day by day.

He walks into the house and smells his grandmother's delicious cooking. It looks like she went overboard when she learned he was coming over for dinner. It reassured him a little, but he can only hope he will still have his grandparents by the end of the night.

He finds his grandfather already seated at the dining table with the newspaper in hand. He turned the papers down to look at him once he had stepped foot into the dining area.

"You look rough; what happened to you?" asked his grandfather, then he went back to focusing on the news.

"Nothing, just a little extra work," he replied sourly. He hated lying to his grandparents and tried to avoid doing so as much as he could.

"What did I tell you about not overworking yourself, young man?" scolded his grandmother, walking into the dining room with a tray in her hand that held Zeke's favourite food, tofu stir-fry.

"Didn’t I tell you to take it easy?" she had said after setting the tray. She raised her spatula with a dangerous-looking smile, making him shiver.

He loved his grandmother, he really did! But sometimes she can be terrifying.

"I'm not! I just have extra work, that's all."

He always loved the way his grandmother cooked his tofu. No one could ever match her taste, not even top restaurants inside or outside the internment zone.

He took a seat at the table. His grandmother handed him a bole of rice, then turned to her husband with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her wrinkled face.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to read the newspaper while eating? You want me to die of anger, don't you?"

The man ignored her for a while before folding it and setting it aside. "I needed to read that article; calm your horses, and no, no one dies of anger," he replied coolly, being a doctor helps sometimes.

At his grandparents' antiques, the blonde sweat dropped. Sometimes they act like children, but he wouldn't have it any other way, and he was sure Eren and Mikasa would love them—at least he hoped that they would.

"The article said that you had managed to make peace with Paradis. Is it true?" asked his grandfather, making Zeke stiff. 

The article was already out? He thought that Commander Magath said that the news would be out when the new laws are told to the public. Was he lying? What was exactly said in the article? Did they reveal Eren and Mikasa’s existence?

He had paled at the thought, "Yea, Marcel helped too."

If he was going down, he would be sure to drag the brown-haired teenager with him.

His grandfather hummed and started eating, saying, "Good job at stopping those island devils."

and Zeke has flinched at the words. They aren't devils; he knew that much. Eren was so adorable that it was hard for him to stay mad for more than a minute. And, if Armin is correct, it was a record to anyone who wasn't Mikasa or Carla, Eren's mother. 

They had started eating. The entire dinner was mostly silent, but for small talk, his grandparents did know what he was up to. He was lost in thought the entire time unless he was addressed, and his grandmother would give him a worried glance, but he ignored it for the most part. It just made him feel guilty for making her worry about him like that.

"Are you ready to tell us what's been troubling you?" questioned the older male.

Zeke shrank into himself when he heard that. They would, of course, notice that something is wrong. He sighed before taking a deep breath.

"I meet Grisha," he blurted out.

A loud crash came from the kitchen, making Zeke stand up. He didn't get to move as his grandfather grabbed his wrist. He looked shocked by the news, yet there was still a hopeful look in his eyes.

His grandmother came running out of the kitchen with tears running down her face and asked, "Is he okay?"

"For the most part, yeah," replied the blonde curtly. So, after all he did, they still cared. "But that's not what I was coming to say," he added.

"Did something bad happen to him?" she had asked with a fearful tone in her usually soft voice.

"He, he remarried." he started nervously, "and he had two kids, but one of them is adopted. "I don't know the whole story, but both of their mothers were murdered and,"

He took a deep breath.

"And Grisha agreed to let them go. He didn't even say goodbye to them, or tell them to behave, or hug them, or show them any type of farewell! He didn't even care in the slightest that they were leaving!"

"They watched as their father told strangers they had never met in their entire lives, who claimed to be family, to take custody over them just because he couldn't step up as a parent!"

"Those kids are going to have trauma and trust issues because of that! Because he wasn't a man and abandoned his family!"

He was sure he had tears running down his cheeks. He just had all these bottled up feelings, and seeing Eren and Mikasa just be so normal about it hurt. How they acted like it was nothing, like it was an everyday occurrence, worried him to death. They are kids, yet they went through so much already, and they didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

"What nonsense are you spouting!? Grisha would never!" boomed his grandfather, as he stood up in rage.

"Are you saying that I’m lying?" said the blonde, sounding hurt.

"Honey, please calm yourself. I’m sure Zeke wanted to tell us something else, right?"

The blonde stared at his grandparents in disbelief, his jaw open. They believed Grisha over him? The man who ruined their family? The reason that Zeke had to become a warrior was so his grandparents wouldn't die. Did they think he was innocent as well?

"No, I wasn't trying to tell you something else. He didn't only abandon us; he abandoned them too."

"He failed as a father, so don't try to defend him." He spit, scrunched up his face in disgust, and walked away.

He could hear his grandmother calling for him and telling him to come back. But he couldn't face her, not after what happened. He knew mothers were supposed to care for their children, depending on one of the books, but he just couldn't find it in himself to look at her right now. Not when it hurts this much.

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

Bonus scene:

Hannes was helping them move to their older brother's apartment. He didn't see the point since he was living next door to Armin. They could leave their stuff there and come get it when they need it, but Hannes scolded him and told him to stop complaining.

But that wasn't what Eren was whining about. He didn't want Hannes to leave. He would never admit it out loud, but the blonde man is a sign of comfort to him. Even if he was most of the time drunk, and he even remembered Armin telling him that when someone is drunk, they're the most honest, the same couldn’t be said for their actions.

The man was leaving first thing in the morning, and Eren might not be able to properly say goodbye to him due to his being in school. He tried to convince Zeke about not letting them go, but it went in vain.

He watched from the door as the man packed up the last of his things and got ready to go back to work in the Garrison Regiment.

"So are you gonna keep watching?"

Eren flushed at the sudden attention, but composed himself quickly. "I-I wasn't!"

"Liars get big red noses, Eren," he joked lightheartedly.

"No, they don't!" he yelled as he hid his nose.

Hannes chuckled. "Sometimes you're too cute for your own good."

Eren pouted; he was cute!

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not," he grumbled, and he decided to change the subject. "Read this once you're back inside the walls."

He looked the other way with a slightly reddened face and shoved a small letter in his hands. The man looked at the paper in his hands and smiled softly. Eren is way too cute for his own good.

"I will."

Eren gave him another piece of paper and said, "And give this to Granny Tomoko; we didn't get to tell her goodbye."

Hannes ruffled the brunette's hair, making him whine, but he didn't push his hand away, so the blonde took it as a win.

"I will give it to her, so don't worry."

"I wasn't."

>--<

Thank you for reading!

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

Sorry that took longer than expected. That chapter got erased twice, so I had to write it twice. I know this chapter might not be good so please forgive me for my careless behavior (╥﹏╥)

I also didn't know where to put the scene where Hannes leaves, so I add it as a bonus scene that where supposed to be in two chapters later. (ーー;)

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[richardkokholm9]

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[lovelylonlyworldd]

The Outfit Helper

Y/n’s friend Harry helps her choose clothes for the evening. The tension between the two “friends” only grows thicker…

word count: 1.2k

___

“Omg, have you been here for long?” Harry was standing in front of my door, arms crossed on his chest, waiting patiently.

“A while.”

“I'm so sorry! My flight got delayed and then-”

“It’s fine.” He interrupted with a chuckle. “We still have time, dinner’s not until 7.”

“Right.” 

My key turned in the lock and the door opened. As I turned around to grab my luggage, Harry already had it in. He smiled and waved with his hand to shoo me into my apartment.

“I need to change. Ah, and maybe I need a quick shower too, my hair’s a mess!” I turned around and came to face him, making him stop in his tracks, only a few inches in front of me. I had to turn my face up to meet his eyes as he towered above me. 

“I think your hair looks good.” His words were spoken low and soft, like a prayer into the night. For a second, there was something in the air between us, something nebulous but electric. I could feel his breath on my skin as his compliment tingled sweetly in my chest. I was scared to move and break the something that surrounded us. The something that made my stomach flutter.

“Thank you…Well…I’ll be in my bedroom.” I looked away and continued: “Fuck, what am I gonna wear?” It was said more to myself. Before I could relish too much in my friend's presence, I turned around and headed towards my destination.

“I’ll help you.” I stopped and did another 180, now facing him again.

“What?”

“I’ll help you pick out something to wear.” Harry looked at me without any humor. But I smiled in disbelief – his request was slightly amusing to me. I knew he was interested in fashion and but this wasn’t stuff we usually did together. But maybe it’d be fun. Everything with Harry was fun.

“Okay.” 

~~~

“I guess you can look through my stuff and see if there’s something you like. I- Fuck!” The ringtone from my phone interrupted my instructions. 

“You can just start without me.” I went back to the hallway to get the ringing little piece of crap that I’d left in my purse.

“Hello y/n!” My sister's voice sounded through the speaker. Sigh.

“Lily, I’ll call you back later, okay?” I had no will to talk to her at the moment. Harry’s pursuit to be my personal stylist was much more interesting. But my sister igonered my attempt to a goodbye and just started telling me about some guy she met (because that information was apparently incredibly urgent).

I reentered my bedroom to find the fashionista himself in front my dresser. I walked towards him, phone still against my ear – Lily was going full in on the storytime. He was just about to open the second drawer when the notion of what was inside dawned over me and made my heart skip a beat. The drawer was however oppen before I could do anything about it.  I stood frozen, my sister babeling on. Harry was now staring down at my underwear – my lace panties, my lingerie. No, no, no! This was horrible, incredibly awkward. He just cleared his throat and I hung up on her.

“That’s not…” He closed it before I could finish the sentence. Embarrassment burned my cheeks red. Harry didn’t look half as bothered. Perhaps it wasn’t a big deal – everyone had underwear. 

“Maybe you don’t have to choose all of my clothes.” I joked. Harry only smirked – why on god's green earth did he smirk? 

“Bummer.” He quickly murmured. I didn’t think it was possible but my cheeks burned even hotter now – you could fry an egg on there for all I know. What was with him? It’s almost annoying how he could make me feel so…flustered. I’m convinced he does it on purpose. 

“I have dresses and stuff over there.” I said, and pointed towards my wardrobe, partly to escape his gaze and partly to get back to business – we did have a dinner to attend.

“Right.”

 ~~~

He’d carefully examined most of my garments before deciding on a final outfit. The top he chose looked like it came straight from the 60s with its jewel neckline and flowers. I’d always be too cowardly to wear it – it was very in your face with its bright colors. But it was of course right on brand for Harry. And with it he paired a short black skirt and boots.

“Put it on!” He sounded eager as he urged me. I did as he said and placed my hands around the end of my hoodie, dragging it over my head. When I got it off, Harry was still looking at me – to my surprise.

“Are you gonna turn around or…?” His eyes went big and he almost jumped at my words, as if I had just woken him from some type of trance. I heard a quick “sorry” as he turned. I chuckled at him and I proceeded to put on the rest of the clothes, with my newfound privacy. 

“Harry, I’m done.” He turned back to observe the outfit.

“Hmm…Give me a quick spin.” I laughed at his demeanor, unable to tell if he was serious or not as he closely inspected me, eyes squinted and with his fingers on his chin, pinching an imaginary beard. But yet I spun around, as he said. 

“Don’t you think the skirt is too short? Where did they say we were going now again? This is too slutty for somewhere fancy.” I asked, it was shorter than i remember, ending only like an inch under my ass.

“It’s fine. Besides, I don’t mind you being slutty.” What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He continued: “Oh, and I thought you could wear these too. Found them on your dresser.” He whipped out a pair of golden earrings from his pockets.

“Alright.” 

“Can I put them on?” As he asked, his face softened. He took a step towards me, holding the earrings out.

“Sure…” 

For some reason, my breath hitched when he got even closer. I reasoned that it was because his warm scent flooded the air around me, and swept into my lungs like thick smoke. And when his hand acsedentaly grazed my neck as he took my hair to the side, I almost shivered from his cold rings. Slowly he put the earrings on, one after the other. It felt like he really took his time. But I didn’t mind lingering in his close presence.

He backed up when he was done, to inspect me yet again. 

“You’re beautiful y/n.” It was said with such sencerency that I had to look away from him. This whole complimenting me thing had really gotten over the line today. God knows there’s only so many you can take in a day, especially from Harry – he’d flustered me again. 

“Thanks,” I managed. “You too.” A smile spread across his face with my words. 

“I think I did a pretty good job, no?”

“Mmm…” Of course he had.

“You should hire me.”

“Perhaps. Not if you’re gonna stare at me while I change again. ” He laughed. 

“Couldn't help it.” 

I blushed.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #dont mind any typos #take care y'all

[seabass17]

All that’s left | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

A/n: This is my first time writing something based on a video I found on TikTok, it’s not exactly the same, but it is kinda the idea. I hope you like it and please let me know if you might want a part two. Also, I apologize if you find some errors, im doing my best since English is not my first language. Anyway, happy reading!!

All that’s left masterlist

Pt. 2

Warnings: angst, mentions of injuries (broken ribs, cuts, dislocated shoulder)

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: She still can’t get used to the feeling of being left behind by the people she once called family. After being hurt, she decides that she will give them a chance, and when they failed, she then makes the decision to disappear and start brand new. Of course, she leaves a letter that will left the team standing in the dark, and with more questions than answers about a lot of things, while discovering that she has more of one past that she let to know.

The sound of the rain hitting against the window of my living room was the only thing that could be heard in the silence of my apartment. I looked over my desk where the paper is waiting for me to pick up the pen and get this over with, but somehow, somewhere deep inside of me, a part is waiting, holding on to the smallest of hope that maybe, just maybe, he is going to come knocking to my door asking why the i haven’t showed up to the compound for the last three days, or why i didn’t text nor call the rest of the team. I wanted to see if they would notice my absence so I left the compound on Thursday. I got the answer to my question when Sunday arrived and my inbox was clear; no one noticed. Today is Tuesday, my apartment is thirteen minutes away, fifthteen if you literally fly or speed up, but still, no one came or text.

To be honest, I'm not surprised, that doesn’t mean it hurts less though. I know i should probably think this through instead of making the impulse decision of grabbing my things and get the hell out of here, going somewhere i can start fresh, somewhere i can start over and get a chance to get over all the things that happened,  find people that actually cared for me, or maybe not finding anyone at all and die alone.

I stand up from my bed and go to my desk, it’s time to get this over with. I start writing the only thing that they get to keep.

“Dear Avengers, You’re probably wondering where I am, or you just don’t care, maybe you don’t even find this. If someone from the building finds this, keep it in case they ever come looking for me; thank you. So, this is it, this is my goodbye. You should consider yourselves lucky, given the fact that none of you even deserves a goodbye because you are the ones causing it. I could tell you the reason why I'm leaving, and you know what, I will tell you. I chose to trust you. The one thing I feared the most was trusting people, but when I joined the team, I thought ‘well, maybe i can trust them, they are my team’, guess what, I was wrong. You should really look out for your teammates Stark, oh, and by the way, you might want to look deeper into why the operation that saved those 30 civilians on may 20, didn’t go south, you might even discover its the very same reason of why i didn’t showed up in the compound for a week, yeah, they were busy torturing the information out of me for a week; information that, by the way, i didn't give, hence why the operation went great. Something even more funny, is that behind every mistake, every wrong that each one of you have ever done, I’m the one that suffered the consequences. Don’t believe me? Then you might want to do your homework, because dear teammates, I’m the one you couldn’t protect. By the time you find out the things you’ve done, I will be long gone. I'm very good at disappearing, Natasha (once she figures it out) can confirm that. I wish things would be different and we could be… family, but that’s never going to happen; not anymore. As of now, there will be no record of my name ever existing, everything that once belonged to me, will be burned, and as of me, well, I am no one.”

I fold the piece of paper and put it in the envelope, once sealed, I write down the word my name in the center so they know. I take a last look at my apartment. Everything is intact, the furniture that came with it is the same as always, the only thing different is that it seems empty without all my belongings. I grabbed my luggage and exited the apartment and then went downstairs.

“Hey Richard”  I say to the man that is in the reception like I always do

“Hey miss, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I'm leaving, for good. If someone comes asking for me, my friends, you tell them that you haven’t seen me. Oh, I left a letter for them upstairs, could you please make sure that it gets to them? Only if the show up, do not sent it”

He looked at me a little sad and confused.

“Oh, well, you will me missed miss, I hope you find happiness and yes, i promised i will make sure they get your letter”

“Thank you Richard, for everything, oh, and this is for you” I handed him an envelope with some cash. He looked like he was about to say something about how he couldn’t accept it but I cut him off. “Please, just take it, please”. He sighs but takes the envelope.

“Thank you miss…”

I smiled at him and then turned around to grab a cab. I'm supposed to be in the airport in 30 minutes. Once in the airport, the only thing left is to start again, be someone brand new.

*3rd person POV*

Friday morning was a little colder than usual in the avengers compound, everyone on the team was up and in the kitchen having breakfast. Everything was normal, until someone noticed that someone was missing.

“Hey guys” Bucky said right before taking a bite of the pancakes Wanda made earlier for everyone. “Have any of you seen y/n?”

The team stayed quiet, realizing that they haven’t seen her for quite a while, not until Barnes brought it up.

“Uh… maybe she took a trip?” Steve broke the silence while the rest started thinking when was the last time they had seen her.

“No, she was here when we arrived from the Jersey mission, it must have been like what, two days, maybe three?” Tony said. Bucky could feel his insides burning and twisting.

“No… that was eight days ago” Vision intervened. The avengers felt like someone just blew up the white house. Her teammate was missing for eight days and no one even noticed. Bucky was the first one to react by getting up and running to her dorm, only to find it exactly the way it was when he last saw her. He searched her dorm looking for something out of place that could tell him that maybe you were in trouble and that he has to come save you, but he is left desperate when he doesn’t find anything.

“She’s not here, everything is intact” He informs once he is back in the kitchen.

“Everyone” Steve calls out, “get dressed, we’re going to look for her. Let’s start in her apartment”

The team leaves to change their clothes and next thing they know, they are in her building. Without saying a word to the receptionist, they all made their way up to her apartment.

“Hey! wait-” he goes unnoticed because the avengers are already on her door. Wanda knocks on the door.

“Y/n? You there?” no one responds. “Y/n come on, don’t be mad at us” Natasha says.

After a few seconds they all start to worry when the door is unlocked, and they worry even more once they see the apartment completely empty.

“What the-” Bucky says

“Where are her things?” Wanda asks to no one especifically

“Where is she?” Thor says

“What the hell is going on?” Tony says a little louder

Bucky storms out of the empty apartment and goes to the man in the reception

“What the hell happened to apartment 108, where is y/n y/l/n?” he asks with worry and anxiety in his voice.

“I’m sorry, but, who are you?” the man asks the rather intimidating group of people in front of him.

“We’re the Avengers man” Peter says and the man suddenly realizes and his face changes from a confused one, to a sad one that makes the team’s stomach drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” he sighs, “She left me indicated to give this to you” he hands them an envelope that looks like it's been sitting there for a while. Bucky stares at the envelope like it's some kind of nuclear weapon that if you touch it, it could kill you. Wanda notices, grabs the envelope and stares at the paper in her hands.

“When did she leave this?” She asked

“Three days ago”

“And why didn’t you send it to us?” Tony asked, getting angry at the poor man.

“Because she specifically said  to handed it to you, if you ever came looking for her”

Bucky could feel the tears in his eyes start to form.

“She said that? `Ever’?” Bucky asked almost to himself. The man slowly nodded. Natasha could feel how her stomach started burning from the guilt and the pain of not noticing that her friend was missing for eight days, little does she know that the entire team felt exactly the same.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y pull the records on the mission on may 20 and also show me the status of y/n on that time” Tony said to the AI and after a few seconds later, pictures of the building that that was about to be blown out by HYDRA with 30 civilians inside showed up. While the avengers were sitting in the conference room looking at the pictures, the AI started talking.

“Mission of may 20. Information was given that HYDRA kept 30 civilians inside the building with the intention of blowing it up with them inside. Source of the information unknown. The Avengers  came to the building and successfully rescued the civilians safely moments before the building was blown up. Agent y/n y/l/n was on an undercover mission on a HYDRA facility at the same time, the communication was lost three days before the civilians situation, and around the same time, the information about the building was given anonymously the very same day that communication with Agent y/l/n was lost; Agent y/l/n returned a week later. Medical record found, access denied”

“Override, Tony Stark” Tony said after a good couple of seconds, the pieces starting to fall in place.

“Access complete. Medical records of Agent y/l/n on may 27th. Access restrained: Agent y/l/n. She presented with several cuts all over her body, three broken ribs, a second grade concussion, a sprained ankle and a dislocated shoulder. Patient refused treatment and was only given medication for the pain”

The seconds were passing and no one in the room would break the silence. The pieces were starting to fall in place, Tony felt nauseous. He yelled at her for being irresponsible for staying a little longer than she should have in the undercover mission, given the fact that she checked in on june 10th, meaning that she waited two weeks for her injuries to heal enough so that he could yell at her for not being good enough. He fell down to his chair, feeling like if he stayed up, he might throw up.

“She was the one that gave us the information about the building” Sam broke the silence. “She was the one that got tortured, and still managed to pass through the data so that we, could be the heroes while she was the one that got beaten up”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, where is she?” Natasha asked the AI, and it responded after a few seconds.

“No information found”

Natasha frowned, Bucky looked up to the screen to see the red sentence. It only made him want to scream more.

“What does ‘no information found’ mean?” Bucky asked on the edge of falling apart.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y” Steve called

“No information available” it said this time.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, look for y/n y/l/n” Tony said, thinking maybe he needed to check what was wrong with the AI.

“No records found for y/n y/l/n”

“Detail,” Stark said.

The AI showed what it said before, there was no record of her name, it was like it never existed. No phone number, no mail address, no nothing, just a little picture of an abandoned building or mansion somewhere in the world.

“Wait” Natasha said, “I know that building, F.R.I.D.A.Y, do a close up on that picture”

“What is it?” Wanda asked

“It was where The Red Room used to operate” tha AI responded

“Why does it appear related to her?” Bucky asked, fearing the answer

“The picture was taken when a girl escaped The Red Room in 2002, she eliminated four people on the way, the age or who it was is still unknown” the AI responded.

“Oh god…” Natasha whispered but Bucky manage it to hear it

“Natasha, what is it?” he asked

“2002, that’s three years after i managed to escape, there was a girl, we were some sort of friends, i promised that i was going to get us out of here, but i couldn’t take her with me so i left her. Two years later I contacted someone on the inside so that I could get to her and plan her escape, but she was angry at me and said that she was fine, a year later she did escape, killing four people on her way” Natasha explained. Everything makes sense now, why she looked familiar, why she had exactly the same skills as Natasha. The team noticed it too, but they assumed it was because she had trained very hard to be an avenger.

“What was her name?” Vision asked.

“Eliza” Natasha said

“Wait a minute…” Bucky said, lifting her head looking at Natasha. “Was that her real name?”

“No, she didn’t wanted to say her real one” Natasha said

“Eliza, that’s y/n’s grandmother’s name” Bucky said and the room fell into a silence where you could hear the wind outside.

“In the letter…” Steve started, “She said that you could confirm that she was good at disappearing completely once you figured it out, so, does this mean that…”

“Y/n is Eliza” Natasha concluded

“She was in The Red Room” Bucky added.

“She said in her letter that all of us did her wrong,” Sam said, “how are we supposed to know what the hell we do to her? She’s been in the team for what, two and a half years? And just now we realized that she was the one that gave us the data that saved 30 people and got her tortured, and that she was trained in The Red Room like Black Widow here. What else are we missing?” he added.

“Guess there’s only one thing we can do” Steve said, looking at Tony.

“And what’s that?” Wanda asked

“We find her”

#avengers #bucky barnes #imagines #marvel #bucky barnes angst #bucky x female reader #the red room #natasha romonova #tony stark #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #peter parker #hydra

[tllgrrl]

April Showers Bring Foolery and Shenanigans:

The Vacation Edition - Chapter 2 “Vacation Interruptus”

Day 4 — Tuesday Evening

Rated: T

Relationships: InTheDoghouse!Bucky Barnes x Sarah Wilson

Inspired by Sebastian Stan’s cover story photo spread in L’Officiel hommes magazine.

**********

Every time a text from him started with “Sorry Buck,” they both knew.

And Sam knew they were on vacation. That’s why he didn’t do his usual text-and-wait-for-Bucky-to-call-back thing.

This time he called directly.

He called just as Sarah and Bucky were getting ready to enjoy the dinner they prepared together.

Being that she’s a Grown-Assed Woman, Sarah didn’t cry, but she wasn’t happy…at all.

Bucky didn’t punch a wall, but he took his cellphone and stalked out of the front door, slamming it behind him.

(He knew that slamming doors wasn’t something Sarah tolerated in her home so, by force of habit, that slam was like a last-second pulled punch because had he actually slammed the door, it and the frame would’ve had to be replaced on the 1930s-40s era mansion.)

Bucky didn’t do much fieldwork anymore, but he and Sarah knew he could still be called if there was a Situation. He knew it could happen at any time because that’s his job and the nature of the biz: Team Cap. Avengers Adjacent. Superhero.

Call it what you may. It is what it is.

That’s why along with their few pieces of vacation luggage, Bucky brought The Backpack:

The custom-made backpack with special compartments that discreetly held 7 of his fixed-blade knives along with his Work Clothes, some toiletries, and as always, a couple of books. He also had 2 gun scopes and his work laptop with its accessories. The team would have any as-needed firearms and a burner phone waiting for him on the transport.

The car would be arriving about an hour after Sam’s call.

He had 10 minutes to get packed and prepared, and then time for he and Sarah to…

He wondered if she would even want to talk to him right now, let alone anything else.

While he was outside getting the rundown, she found some Tupperware and packed both his dinner and hers for him to take with, loaded the dishwasher, did a cursory cleanup of the almost already clean kitchen, then she went upstairs to the bedroom, opened the doors leading out onto the balcony overlooking the large swimming pool, and tried to think of anything other than him leaving.

“Jarvis…?”

“Yes, Ms. Wilson…” The A.I. voice coming from the bedroom’s speakers was soft, soothing, and had a posh British accent.

“Pool lights. Grotto setting…please.”

“Very good, ma’am.”

When the lights in the pool and in the surrounding foliage slowly started to glow in the encroaching twilight, they began to cast a soft ambient light up into the bedroom as Bucky quietly walked in.

“Sarah…I didn’t mean to just…and slam the door like that. I was angry and didn’t want—“

“You’re angry?” she scoffed, but didn’t raise her voice. She also didn’t turn around to face him, either. “Welcome to the club, Bucky.

So…how long before they come get you, and when will you be back?”

(She called me “Bucky”. Shit.)

“The car should be here in about an hour, and Sam says 3 days. I’ll be back on Saturday. Nandi—“

“You got everything you need?”

“I need you. Bast dammit, baby. I don’t want to go. You know I’d—“

“And we both know Sam wouldn’t’ve asked for you if he didn’t need you, but that doesn’t make it…it doesn’t mean I’m happy about this.”

“I know, Sarah. Uxolo—“

“You can be ready in 10. That gives you 50 minutes to get over here and take both our minds off of Sam calling and you leaving me here alone on our vaca—“

He was already across the room and she was in his arms before she finished her sentence.

Touching his forehead to hers, his hands settled on the small of her back, pulling her closer.

“Let’s not talk about Sam, or me leaving. Not right now, Ok? Not when we only have 50 min—“

“40. You’ll have to shower and suit up—“

“We’ll have to shower…” he picks her up and carries her to the bed, “and I can suit up in 5.”

“James…just come back to me safe and in one piece, mthandi.”

“I will, intanda.”

“You better.”

49 minutes and 45 seconds later…

He makes it downstairs just as the car arrives, with 15 seconds to spare.

To be continued…

(Previous chapter.)

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

Notes:

nandi / ubumnandi: “sweetness”, “delightful”, “tasty” (isiXhosa).

intanda: “beloved” (iXhosa)

mthandi: “lover” (isiXhosa)

(Edited for consistency in naming convention, punctuation and grammar. Structure not involved/affected.)

**********

Note: April Showers…The Vacation Edition is also over at AO3: CH 1 / CH 2 / CH 3, Pt 1 / CH 3, Pt 2 / CH 3, Pt 3 / Epilogue

As they aren’t blessed with these lovely photos, instead they are more descriptive and are a bit more expanded. Chapter 3 is in 2 parts. Part 1 is Rated G/T. Part 2 is Rated: E as in Exclusively for Grown Folks.

#sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sarahbucky #buckysarah #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sarahcentric #fleur de louve #sarah wilson fanfic #fan fiction #inspired by sebastian stan lofficiel magazine #sarahbucky fanfic

[certifiedskywalker]

Regret Me - Sharon Carter

Zemo warned you that Madripoor was a lawless place, a den of pirates and thieves. The last time you saw Sharon Carter, she was neither a pirate nor a thief, save for the fact that she had stolen your heart long before. Turned out, she kept it as her favorite treasure.

WARNING: a n g s t

“Hopefully you can make something here work.”

“Hopefully? You got a whole damn shopping mall,” Sam quipped as he stepped up to one of the clothing racks Sharon pulled out. The blonde shrugged and leaned up against the nearest wall, dark eyes full of waiting. While Sam scanned through the array of options and Bucky looked on with disinterest, you fixed your attention on Sharon.

There were the faintest hints of a smile on her lips. Small lines, the dip of her dimples, deepened slightly at the corners of her mouth. When was the last time you saw Sharon Carter smile? When was the last time you saw Sharon Carter at all? Too long ago.

It was before the Blip, but after your stay on The Raft. When Steve broke you, Sam, and Wanda out, you decided to run your own way for a while. Your path led you back to Sharon, her apartment, or what was left of it. She was packing, stuffing what she could into luggage. In your mind, there was a dull, dim echo of your name falling from her lips and...

“Y/N?”

...not saying goodbye.

“Y/N?”

Sharon’s eyes were on you when you managed to pull yourself from your faded memories. You quickly averted your gaze and shook your head slightly in the hopes of clearing it; though, your muddled recollections remained and hung in your mind like storm clouds ready to release a downpour. When you looked back up at Sharon, her posture was straightened. She no longer leaned against the wall and there was worry perched in her furrowed brows.

“Sorry, what?” You asked, scratching at the back of your neck. Every nerve ending of your body itched to move, to run away and hide, but where? Sharon’s home, her new world, was so, terribly unfamiliar to you. It made the want to disappear into the home you remembered with her all the more painful to bear.

“I have choices that might be more your style,” she replied, slim arms crossed over her chest. You forced your eyes to remain trained on hers, despite how you longed to take in the full sight of her. “You interested?”

Sharon was always strong, it was one of the many things that initially drew you to her. But there was something in how she carried herself, how she looked at you in that moment, that made her seem invincible. Perhaps it was the all-black outfit, how it fit like a uniform but was entirely removed from her days as a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. She looked ready for a fight or a party, and you felt that she would be happy with either.

You nodded at her question before you let yourself dwell on the allure of her confidence. Sharon’s lips quirked up in a full smile and she turned around, flicked her hand behind her to entreat you to follow. You glanced at Sam and Bucky, only for the latter to stare warily back at you. Glints in Bucky’s eyes revealed the same nervousness that tightened your chest.

Be careful.

You dipped your head, a wordless concession before you trailed after Sharon. The sound of her heels as they clicked against the hardwood floor matched the quickened pace of your heartbeat. To distract yourself from the alarmingly swift rush of blood through your body, you glanced around the channels of the apartment. Despite the lavish level of living the sleek modern furniture and expensive, most likely original, works of art, Sharon’s house did not feel like a home. It was bare bones.

The hallways you passed through were stark. Where old apartment in D.C. was decorated with her and he friend’s smiling faces, plants, and life, this High Town suite was lifeless, pictureless. The only thing that lived inside its walls was Sharon, but even then you weren’t entirely certain that she was living as she once was.

When she glanced over her shoulder, to check to see if you followed her, her dark eyes brightened. For a moment, she looked like she did before you both ran away. You had run in separate directions after Steve took Bucky to Wakanda. When Sharon smiled softly at you, you struggled to remember why you didn’t go with her.

“Like I said, some of this might be your style,” she said as she walked into what you assumed was her bedroom. Sheets on the queen-sized mattress were without a wrinkle, without a touch. “But, it’s been a while since I last...since I’ve seen you.”

“Yeah,” you said as Sharon walked over to a large set of closet doors. “I missed you.”

Sharon paused at your words. Her hands settled on the handles of the closet before they tightened. Knuckles, strained, turned white, but when she turned her head to face you, Sharon wore a smile. No longer were her eyes bright; in fact, they mirrored the blank, white walls of her apartment. The sight made your stomach twist.

“I’m flattered.”

Before you had a proper chance to react to the coldness of her tone, Sharon threw open the closet doors. Racks of silk slip dresses, pressed suits, and formal robes, all in clashing patterns, hung in troves. Some were sleek and monochrome, while others were borderline floral, a jungle stitched into fabric. Once you accumulated to the colorful assault before you, you glanced over at Sharon. Her smile had dropped, but her gaze remained trained on you.

“Your personal wardrobe?”

She shrugged. “Pick out what you like.”

You opened your mouth to reply, to ask why she seemed so frigid, when she turned her back to you, busied with her phone. It had been years, you told yourself, and she was still trying to help. Times were hard and clearly changed her, but she was still Sharon to the core. She was still the Sharon you once loved, the one you gave up everything for.

You frowned as you looked back to the closet. Idly, you searched through the hangers. As you flicked through each fanciful piece of clothing, your eyes landed on a simple shirt and jacket. The tags stuck out of the collars and caught your attention. They were both in your size.

You pulled the jacket from the rack and thumbed the tag to read it more clearly. “This is in my size, in your closet?”

“Yeah, that,” at the sound of her voice, you glanced up at the blonde. She eyed the jacket in your hands and nodded. “I saw it, a while back. Thought of you.”

Her dark eyes flickered up to hold your gaze. She watched you, carefully, read every microexpression you could not help but show. You almost felt her calculating. She had wanted you to find the jacket, to ask about the size.

“Sharon.”

“Try it on.”

You sighed and shook your head to clear it of all the things you longed to say. “I don’t think it will do us any good. Maybe I should go and-”

“Please.”

Never in your life had you heard Sharon Carter beg, not for anything. She took what she wanted, whether it was a job, a bullet, or your heart. She made it so easier for you to fall for her because you knew she was already prepared to catch you. When you were caught at the airport in Berlin, held in The Raft, you thought only of her. The moment you were free, you ran to her only to run away. Why?

“Please.”

You cut through the memory to the fear. What was the why: because you would run to her every time if given the chance, and that scared you. You got caught but she would look at you with all the want in the world. She would be ready to meet you in the middle as you made your way back to her. Sharon deserved better. Despite how everything else around you had changed, that fact had not.

“Okay,” you conceded, unable to deny the pained look in Sharon’s expression. You had caused her too much hurt to bring about anymore. As you stepped over to the full-length mirror propped up against the wall, you caught Sharon’s reflection behind yours. Her eyes were glued to you as you slipped the jacket over your shoulders.

Unable to deny how it fit so well, you admired the look of your reflection. As your gaze traveled up, you caught Sharon’s eyes in the mirror. You turned on your heels to face her and saw that the ache that she once wore had morphed. Her eyes drank in your form but her expression was blank. Even as she stepped towards you with hands extended out towards the lapels of the jacket, you could not read her. She was always a good spy.

Wordlessly, Sharon reached out and adjusted how the jacket sat on your frame. A whiff of her perfume, rose-like florals with hints of something more bitter, filled your nose. The smell was enough to throw you back into the memory of the last time you saw her, your not-goodbye.

"It fits, really well,” you said in the hopes of grounding you back to reality, to that moment. “You've really made a life for yourself,”

"I have.” Sharon brushed her hands along the lapels to flatten them out. She pulled away, met your eyes, and, suddenly, you could read her. "You could've come with, helped me."

"I..."

"This life could have been ours,” she pressed. “After I stole the shield and wings. I wanted you to, I asked you to. Do you even remember?”

"There was a lot going on. The team was..." You trailed off at the thought of the Avengers and let your eyes fall from Sharon’s. At least you were all alive back then.

"We were both wanted criminals, branded traitors,” Sharon continued, denying your excuse. “Why...why didn't you come with me?"

Your heart ached at her question, her tone. The confidence you saw, you admired only a few precious minutes before faded into the quivering bottom lip of insecurity. Sharon wasn't invincible, despite all her trying to be. You were her weak point, just as she was yours.

"I was scared...I didn't want you to regret me, me coming with."

“Regret you? Y/N,” her eyes widened, “I loved you, I needed you.”

You shook your head and gestured to the sleek room around you. “You don’t need anyone, Sharon. Look at what you’ve built for yourself.”

“I wanted to build it with you,” she said as her hands grabbed yours. You glanced down at your joined hands then back up at her face. The pain was there again. It hung in her dark eyes and downturned lips.

“I wanted that too,” you admitted, “but we...we were on the run, and if I got caught-”

“You wouldn’t have, I wouldn’t let you,” she interrupted.

“That’s my point. You would risk your life for me and I would have risked it all for you, then we would both be lost. We might both regret it, us.”

You slipped one of your hands from her and reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. Sharon leaned towards your touch for only a moment. Then, as you tucked the hair behind her ear, she thought better of it. Her eyes met yours, held your gaze with an intensity that refreshed the image of her strength in your eyes.

“I regret having to miss you.”

“I did too.”

Sharon nodded and swallowed hard before she added, “I mean, we didn’t even really say goodbye.”

“I didn’t want to think we had to, I guess. We are here, so…”

“We are here,” she echoed. For a long moment, you and Sharon stared into the other’s eyes. You swore you saw her lips twitch up slightly, an almost smile, but it didn’t last. It melted away as she began to lean towards you.

She pressed her lips to your forehead. It was a gentle kiss, only the smallest reminder of what you and Sharon used to be. Though, it was enough to make your heart swell and dull the soreness of your heart. When Sharon pulled away, you saw that, perhaps, it did the same for her too. She seemed less grim, more like she was when you, Sam, Bucky, and Zemo first ran into her: confident and new.

“So, no goodbyes. Only, ‘see you laters’.”

“Only ‘see you laters’,” you agreed. Sharon nodded and stepped away from you. She started towards her bedroom door and, for a second, you thought she was going to leave you alone. Just as you were about to resign yourself to your thoughts, your regrets, Sharon glanced over her shoulder. She smiled.

“C’mon, we got a party to go to.”

#sharon carter #sharon carter imagine #sharon carter imagines #sharon carter fanfiction #sharon carter fanfic #sharon carter x reader #sharon carter x you #sharon #carter #agent carter #tfatws #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel mcu imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fanficition #marvel mcu fanfiction

[ghostburs-blue]

Gas Station Coffee

Summary: y/n and reid are literally oblivious lmfao, classic best friends to lovers trope

Warnings: angst if you squint, lots of fluff! some kissing though

Word count: 3.8k

a/n: i really hope you like this guys!! i’ve worked for the past 4 hours straight on this asjdhnaksdjh <33 this has not been beta-ed! im tired, please forgive me if you notice any spelling or grammatical errors. much love!

Spencer stepped into the bullpen with his favorite tan coat slung over his arm, eyes immediately casting towards the desk where he knew you sat. A small smile played across his lips as he saw JJ leaning over your shoulder, pointing and laughing at something on your computer screen. He watched, entranced, as you looked over at JJ and grinned before doubling over in fits of your own laughter.

He found himself walking towards you as if he couldn’t control his own actions. His feet brought him directly in front of your desk.

You glanced up at him, eyes beginning to sparkle when you realize who it was. “Spence!” You squealed, and it was all you could do to stop yourself from launching at him.

With an amused “woah!”, Spencer’s arms engulfed your frame, stumbling backwards ever so slightly. He buried his head into your hair, inhaling the smell of your rose shampoo.

You pushed at his body ever so slightly, signalling him to give you some space. He stepped back, taking in the sight of your blushed cheeks and slightly ruffled hair. Heat rose to his face at the thought of you looking like this under him-

“Spencer?” Your voice cut into his thoughts, and Spencer refocused onto you waving a hand in front of his face. You smiled at him, pure happiness filling your gaze. “JJ just left, you guys have a case,” you explained, laughing at the frown that now adorned Reid’s features.

“Ugh,” he groaned, pulling you in for a quick hug and forehead kiss before dashing towards the round table.

You stood, stunned, hand slowly rising to the top of your head. Did Spencer just give you a kiss? You thought, astounded. You sat down again, though you still felt like you were in shock. You eventually got to work, though the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin never faded.

15 minutes later, you noticed the team quickly leaving the conference room, everyone heading to their desks to grab go-bags before making their way to the airstrip. 

You noticed Reid grabbing his duffel from under his desk, and you gently placed a hand on his bicep. He looked up at you, flushed.

Before you even said anything, he responded. “California,” he whispered. “We’re going to California.”

You tried to hold in your disappointment, but judging by the softness overtaking Spencer’s gaze, you assumed it was showing. It was his turn to grab your hand, and you ignored your heart beating furiously in your chest.

“It’s so far,” you whispered, sadness lacing your tone.

He offered a tiny smile in an attempt to comfort you. “I know, I know,” he replied. “But we can call any time I’m on break, okay?” He reassured you.

You nodded, fully knowing you never call him on breaks because that was the one time he could sit in solitude.

You pulled him in for a quick hug, punching his shoulder slightly as you break away. “Go be a hero,” you laughed, attempting to mask your dread. He chuckled in response before grabbing his luggage and walking away, not looking back.

You watched with a heavy heart, only turning when you heard Garcia calling your name, asking for help with some files.

A few days passed without any contact from Reid. You had assumed your regular position in Garcia’s office, ranting to her while playing with one of her many bobbleheads as she listened and gave you advice as you spoke. It was a comical sight, really; you lay in a chair that you had reclined back as far as possible with a pink feathery bobble in your hands as you spoke, while Garcia spun her chair in circles and gave you advice to your life problems.

The topic in question today was Spencer. To be fair, the topic for the past few weeks had been Spencer. Garcia was sure he liked you back, but you were too scared to make a move or ask him about it.

“Does he like me or does he not?” You exclaimed, frustrated. Penelope had stopped spinning, and seemed to be trying to tell you something. “Like honestly, it’s not hard to stop sending mixed signals!”

You quickly quieted down as you glanced over at where Garcia sat, eyes ghosting over the computer screen and widening as you met the faces of four very amused agents.

Garcia groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “$10 to whoever can guess who y/n was talking about first,” she joked, and the group laughed. You bowed your head sheepishly.

Thankfully, Reid wasn’t there; he and Rossi had gone back to the M.E. to get some tox screen reports. However, JJ, Emily, Hotch, and Morgan very much were there, and were very much trying to hold back their smirks.

You zoned out as you heard Morgan and Hotch discussing a possible unsub with Garcia, instead thoughts racing with what could have been.

What if Reid had been there? What would he have done? Would he have thought you were talking about him?

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts; you knew enough about psychology to know stressing about something that didn’t even happen was just setting yourself up for failure.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, though your cheeks still burned with shame every time you thought about what had happened a few hours ago.

You made it home fine, pushing the door open with your key in the lock. You sighed as you slid off the small bag you took to work; there were some extra files you needed to take care of that you weren’t able to finish at the office.

It was nearing midnight when you finally finished working through the pile of paperwork. Your eyesight blurred slightly as you tried to focus on the clock in front of you. Cursing, you realized you had forgotten to put in your nightly contacts.

Stumbling to the bathroom, you placed the tiny pieces of plastic in your eye and blinked in an attempt to clear your vision.

You groaned as the fluorescent lights in your bathroom suddenly became too bright. A hand came up to shield your eyes, making your way to your bedroom. As you fell onto the bed, your phone started to buzz next to you. You let out a sound of frustration as you grabbed it and lifted it up to read who was calling you at this hour. Your eyes widened as you read Spencer’s contact name in bold across the screen.

Scrambling to pick up the call, you exhaled a sigh of relief as you heard a croaking voice say, “y/n?”

Worry overcame you once again, however, when you noticed how tired and sad he sounded.

“Spencer? Are you okay?” You asked quickly. You did some math in your head before realizing it was well over 3 am in California. “Why are you calling me so late?”

You were met with silence on the other end of the line, permeated with the occasional sound of sniffles.

“Oh, Spence,” you whispered into the receiver, feeling your heart break. “What happened?” You asked, though in your heart, you already knew the answer.

“We couldn’t save him,” he quietly cried, and you could feel your body yearning to comfort him.

“Baby,” you whispered, not thinking before you spoke. Your breath caught in your throat, but Reid didn’t seem to notice or care. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Reid was full on sobbing on the other end of the line at this point, and you felt tears rising to your own eyes as you listened to his heart wrenching cries.

You continued to whisper sweet nothings into the phone until he calmed down, still hiccuping slightly.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay baby?” You asked, worried for him and his well being. 

“Can I video call you?” You could barely make out the sound of his voice, but you nodded quickly before realizing he couldn’t see you.

“Uh- yeah, yeah of course Spencer,” you murmured. In an instant, you received the video call request on your phone. You quickly accepted, letting out a small gasp as you met Reid’s red rimmed and puffy eyes.

“Could we please just-” His voice broke slightly, and your chest ached for the poor boy even more. “Could we please just stay on call? For- For the night?”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. Reid asking to fall asleep with you over video call wasn’t unheard of, but had only happened a few times before.

You tended to stay awake until you were sure he was asleep, but you never told him that.

So that’s how your night ended, watching the face of the man you loved as he slowly drifted off to sleep across the country, instead of in your arms like he should be.

The case ended soon after that, the whole team opting to leave immediately instead of spending one more night in California.

You and Garcia waited like normal at the office for them to come back home. This time, however, you were a little extra nervous. Maybe it was the video call a few nights ago, maybe it was the slip up in front of your coworkers. Whatever the reason, you were antsy, constantly shifting your weight back in forth between your feet and fidgeting with your hands.

You were in the middle of a staring contest with the ground when the sound of the elevator door opening caused you to look up. A small smile spread across your face as you saw Penelope practically run towards Morgan. You gave a quick hug to everyone else, but faltered before you got to Spencer.

He offered you a tired grin, the eyebags prominent under his eyes.You frowned slightly, sizing him up. His clothes hung a little more than usual on his already lithe frame, causing you to tut disapprovingly.

“Mr. Reid, how much did you eat over the course of the past week?” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest. The members of the team who hadn’t already dispersed laughed, knowing Spencer was in for a scolding.

Reid shook his head, a smile making its way onto his features. He stepped forward and practically engulfed your body, catching you by surprise. “I missed you too y/n,” he whispered into the hug.

The team had a mandatory day off after every case they finish, meaning they could all sleep in as much as possible. This normally meant you would spend the night at Spencer’s apartment, waking up to the sight of his adorable bed head and sleepy voice.

This night, however, was much different. Reid practically never left you alone the whole way back to his apartment, whining when you attempted to remove the hand he had placed on your thigh while you drove the both of you to his apartment (you had deemed Spencer unfit to drive after the long flight).

Even when you fell asleep next to him in his large bed, his arm managed to snake its way around your waist, legs looping around yours.

The next day came and went; Spencer continued to be clingy and you continued to let him. You knew it was rare when he would let his guard down, and you wanted to make him feel as comfortable around you as possible. 

The next morning you woke up, feeling more tired than usual. You picked up your usual coffee from your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop, sluggishly hauling yourself to work.

If anyone seemed to notice your strange demeanor, they didn’t say anything. You got through about half of the day before you realized something was wrong; you hadn’t seen Reid at all yet.

So, leaving the large stack of files that needed sorting behind, you set out to search for him. 

You had almost given up all hope for trying to find him until you rounded the corner to Morgan’s office. You heard voices echoing, and you could barely make them out through the closed door.

You quietly creeped to the door, placing your ear against it as you strained to understand what they were saying. “But what if she doesn’t like me?” Your heart dropped slightly. That was Spencer, you were sure. 

“Kid, you’re going to be fine. Just do what I told you to, and everything will turn out alright.” That was definitely Morgan.

He didn’t like you. He liked a different girl all along.

You choked back a sob as you quickly ran to the bathroom, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth to stifle any noises as you made a mad dash for a stall.

You stayed there, crying quietly, for at least 10 minutes. You thanked the Gods above that you had decided to wear minimal makeup that day.

You attempted to dry your face as best as possible with the toilet paper in the stall (gross, you know), before finally emerging from the bathroom.

Because your luck was just fabulous that day, you practically slammed into Spencer’s body as you were exiting the restroom.

The moment Reid took in your puffy and disheveled appearance, you knew you were done before. You tried to maneuver around him, but for such a skinny person, he was quite strong. He grabbed your arms and turned you to face him, gently lifting your chin with a single finger to meet his gaze. You almost crumpled right then and there.

“What happened y/n?” Spencer asked, voice soft and full of concern. Your mind raced to come up with a lie.

“My uh- my childhood dog died?” You offered weakly, internally beating yourself up. A childhood dog? You didn’t even have a pet growing up! You thought to yourself, making a mental note to get better at lying, especially to Reid.

Something shifted in his gaze, and he stepped back abruptly, letting your chin drop without his finger to push it up. Confused, you looked at him, only to find a cold stare looking back at you. You instinctively drew your hands around your body; you did it every time you felt scared in a situation.

You thought you noticed a flicker of something in his gaze, but you couldn’t be sure. Reid gave you a tight-lipped smile, then swiftly turned and walked away. You were left staring at his retreating figure, extremely confused.

The next few days were, to put it lightly, hell. You hadn’t texted or called him in forever, nevertheless actually spoken to him in person. It seemed like he was purposely avoiding you; you couldn’t figure out why.

At this point, you had had enough. You slammed your pen down on your desk, marching over to where Spencer sat hunched over some paperwork.

“Reid,” you started, coldly. He looked up at you, poorly masking his shock. You never called him Reid, ever. “We’re going for a walk, leave your stuff.”

You turned and headed to the glass doors without checking if he was following you. Sure enough, you heard the soft padding of his footsteps behind you.

You walked into the elevator, holding it open for Spencer to come in too.

When the doors closed, he turned to you. “So, will you finally tell me what’s happening?” He asked, clearly confused.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” You asked, still staring straight ahead. You could see him opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of the corner of your eye. He clearly hadn’t expected you to be so… blunt.

“I- uh- what?” He stammered.

You turned to face him with a no nonsense expression. “I said what I said. Why have you been ignoring me, Spencer?”

His face turned sheepish and red, and he ducked his head as he muttered something. You frowned, not catching what he said.

“Huh?” You asked him to repeat it.

This time, you could make out the words.

“Derek told me to,” he murmured, ashamed. You frowned, still not following.

“What do you mean?” You asked, the pieces not clicking together in your mind.

Reid sighed. “I asked him for girl advice…” He started.

Your eyes widened, and your hand flew over your mouth. “No,” you whispered.

At this point, you both had reached the ground floor of the building already and had exited the elevator.

Spencer’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

It was your turn to be embarrassed. “Remember when you saw me crying a few days ago, and I said my childhood dog had died?”

Spencer nodded.

“Well-” You started, only to be cut off.

“That was a lie,” Reid stated, surprising you. Before you could say anything, he went on. “You didn’t have a childhood dog, much less a pet of any kind. Your mom is scared of animals,” he said. You continued to stare at him with your mouth open.

“How did you…” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the question.

“You told me the first time we ever hung out outside of work,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “I remember things, you know.” You nodded, smiling to yourself slightly. “So what exactly did Derek tell you?” You asked, curious.

“He told me to play hard to get. You know, ignoring texts, not talking to you, etc.” Reid explained, and you nodded. You were going to kill Derek.

Spencer sighed, and put out a hand to stop you from walking. You turned to face him. “Look- I don’t know how to see this but I really like you. Like, like like you. A lot,” he stammered. You giggled slightly. It wasn’t everyday that you heard the famous Dr. Spencer Reid stumble over his own words.

“Spencer, I like like you too,” you laughed.

“Really?” He whispered, eyes hopeful.

“Really, you confirmed,” amusement present on your features. Without a second to spare, you leaned in and captured his lips in a perfect kiss.

You two broke apart after a few seconds; Spencer’s chest was heaving. Whether it was nerves or he was out of breath, he couldn’t tell.

You two walked back to the bullpen, hand in hand and happier than you’d ever been.

You cursed as you pushed through the glass doors, holding a hot coffee in one hand and an unwrapped Ring Pop in the other. You turned and looked for Spencer with a smile on your face.

You and Spencer had been dating for 3 years, and you were extremely content to spend the rest of your life with him.

You were currently wearing his extremely oversized sweater, the sleeves so big on you that they dangled past the tips of your fingers. You were also sopping wet from the rain outside.

It was a cold winter day in Quantico, meaning lots of rain. It was around 7 pm, and it wasn’t uncommon for the team to stay until 9 to finish going through and completing case files.

Spencer had wanted coffee, but you knew how much he hated the break room coffee. Oddly enough, Reid loved your local corner store turned gas station’s coffee. Even though there was a thunderstorm outside, you had made the trek to the store to pick up a steaming cup of joe (and a Ring Pop for yourself).

The beautiful sounds of pure laughter fell upon your ears as your gaze rested upon your very own Spencer Reid. His face was stretched into a wide grin as he gazed at you.

You made your way over to him before he grabbed the edge of your (well, technically his) sweater and pulled you towards him.

“I got coffee,” you waved the hot cup tantalizingly in front of his face, prompting him to lean in and kiss you deeply.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, and you felt yourself smile.

“I know,” you whispered back teasingly. You placed the coffee and Ring Pop down on his desk. Immediately, Reid pulled you into a warm embrace.

You two stayed like that for who knows how long, simply enjoying each other’s presence as you buried your head into his collarbone. He held you oh so tight against his chest, as if he was your shield against the evils of the world.

You leaned up and began to pepper his face with kisses, making him squirm and laugh slightly. You were glad the rest of the team was sitting elsewhere to finish their papers.

You suddenly noticed Spencer pull back from you, lifting you up and placing you on the chair he was sitting on.

You closed your eyes, frowning at the loss of your personal heater. Opening your eyes, you were surprised to see Reid wasn’t in front of you.

Looking down, you could feel your heart start racing.

Spencer was on one knee in front of you, a stupid grin on his face. Instead of a ring, he held your untouched Ring Pop in his hands, cradling it as if it were made of glass.

You gasped, eyes filling with tears.

“These past 3 years have been the best of my entire life, y/n,” his voice cracked slightly as tears streamed down his face. “I know this is a Ring Pop and this is out of the blue and you’re probably extremely unprepared-”

“Shut up,” you cut him off. He looked up at you in surprise. “What?” He asked.

“Shut up,” you repeated. You slowly pulled yourself off the chair, kneeling down to be at eye level with him. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss, one that you hoped would explain everything.

Your salty tears mixed together, creating a briny taste as your tongues clashed.

Spencer broke apart first, gasping for air slightly. “Is that a yes?” He asked, breathlessly.

You grinned, leaning back in. “Yes,” you whispered against his lips.

Reid slipped the candy onto your finger, making you giggle. “I can’t believe this is happening,” you laughed, pure joy flowing in your veins.

“Me too,” Reid admitted, causing you to kiss him once more.

A loud thud followed by a scream echoed throughout the room, causing the two of you to jump apart and look around, alert and ready.

Garcia stood at the entrance to the bullpen, a mess of files laying scattered at her feet. Her eyes darted between the “ring” on your finger to the amused look on your guys’ faces, causing you to laugh loudly.

You held your hand up, pointing to the ring, shaking it slightly. “I’m getting married!” You squeal.

Penelope matches your energy, running up to give you a hug. The sound of footsteps rings through the large room, causing you all to look up.

“We heard a scream,” Morgan explained, worry covering his features. You laugh, once again pointing to your ring.

“I’m going to be a married woman!” You exclaim. Suddenly, you and Spencer were both being bombarded with hugs, and “congratulations!” resounding in the air. Rossi clapped Reid’s back with a “so, a Ring Pop, huh?”, causing you all to laugh.

You looked up at Spencer’s face, smiling to yourself.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way, you thought to yourself.

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