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fanficbitch · 3 years

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In Another Life // Jane Emily

A/N: The first child between Y/N and Hotch!

Aaron Hotchner x y/n

September 2013

The level of uncomfort I am feeling is indescribable. It hurts when I lay on my side, it hurts when I lay on my back, it hurts to sit. Just everything is painful. I don’t know how people do this multiple times. This might have to be my only pregnancy.

Aaron has been out on a case for the last four days and I am practically useless. So Jess has been coming over to help and take care of Jack. I don’t know how we would survive without her.

Jess left me propped up against the headboard by at least four pillows. I am nearly sitting up. However, this just happens to be the best position that I have found. I glance at my clock and see that it is nearly 2 in the morning. I have to get some sleep, but I don’t feel that happening soon.

To my surprise, the door to my bedroom opens to reveal Aaron. “What are you still doing up?” he asks as he walks in.

“I can’t sleep. I’m too uncomfortable,” I whine. Aaron gives me a sympathetic look then begins to undress from his suit. “How was the case?”

“A little complicated. We were stumped for a while till Reid had a genius moment and figured it out.”

I chuckle slightly. “He’s quite good at that, isn’t he?”

Once Aaron has his pajamas on he gets into bed and properly greets me with a kiss. “Now, how have you been?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly,” he confirms.

“I have just been miserable. I can’t sleep or sit properly,” I say then place my hands on my stomach. “I just need this baby out.”

“It should only be a few more days,” Aaron assures me.

“Your time off starts now right?” I ask and he nods. Although him and I both know that he could still be called in at any minute.

Aaron scoots closer to me so he can place his hand on my belly. Almost immediately, I feel kicks at the top of my stomach. Aaron smiles while I wince in pain. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” I mutter.

“You have to admit she knows her daddy,” Aaron smiles. A true smile from him. I am lucky and see them more than most people do, but every time I see one I am overjoyed.

I place my hand on his cheek and his eyes meet mine. “This baby has no idea just how lucky she is,” I say.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Aaron says. He leans in and kisses me slowly until the kicking starts again. I place my hand on top of his hand that rests on my belly.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whisper into his hair.

“Me too,” he smiles.

**********

When I wake up, it’s to a jolt of pain. With my eyes closed, I reach my hand out and try to find my boyfriend’s hand. After a moment of searching, I open my eyes and see that no one is there.

I check my clock and see that it is almost 7 in the morning, which means Aaron is already knee deep in emails.

I hoist myself out of bed and waddle down the stairs. I find Aaron exactly where I expect to find him, in his office. I peek inside and see him intently staring at his computer with his glasses on. “Hey,” I whisper as I walk in the doorway.

“Hey,” he says and whips off his glasses. He quickly gets up and leads me out of the office and into the living room then onto the couch. Once I’m settled, Aaron takes the other side of the couch. “How was your night?”

I sigh. “It was rough. I had contractions nearly the whole night, but they’re at least a half hour apart and not lasting very long.”

“Okay, well do you want me to make you some breakfast?”

“Always,” I smile.

“On it,” Aaron says and gives me a kiss before heading to the kitchen.

I manage to get a magazine off the coffee table and flip through it for a few minutes, then I get bored. I move to the dining room so I can overlook Aaron in the kitchen as he makes breakfast.

“So, how has work been today?” I ask.

“I’m on vacation,” Aaron tells me.

“Listen honey, we can do this whole thing where we both pretend you aren’t working, but know you are. Or we can just talk about it,” I say as he bites his bottom lip in thought. “I really don’t mind. I like hearing about work.”

“Well in that case, Morgan is taking over for me while I’m gone and he was just asking a few questions,” he says as he butters my toast. “He says he’s going to do his best not to bother us these next two weeks.”

“Hmm, okay,” I hum.

“What?” Aaron asks as he slides the toast in front of me then sits next to me.

“I just don’t think there is anyway you can stay away from work for that long,” I say. “If Morgan doesn’t call you I’m sure you’ll lend your services.”

“That is not true,” he fights back. I raise my eyebrows at him, but still continue to eat my toast. But halfway through my first piece, pain pierces through my stomach. I lean over and clutch my stomach with one hand while my other one finds Aaron’s hand. “Just breathe through it,” Aaron coos and I do. It’s over within 30 seconds, but it was still painful.

I look up and meet his eyes once it’s over. “Are you sure these aren’t braxton hicks?” Aaron asks.

“I’m sure. These are way stronger than ones I’ve gotten earlier,” I say and he nods.

Just then, a sleepy Jack turns into the dining room, still in his pajamas. “Hey buddy,” Aaron says.

“Hey,” Jack croaks then sits at his seat. “Could I have breakfast please?”

“Yes, I will get you some cereal,” Aaron says then runs off to the kitchen. Jack’s sleepy expression quickly turns to happy when he realizes what we’re getting close to.

“Could she come today?” Jack asks excitedly.

“She could,” I say with a nod.

“Can you please, please, please tell me her name?” he begs.

“We aren’t set on anything,” Aaron says as he returns to the dining room with the cereal. Jack looks back at me from his dad and I give him a wink. I’d say we’re pretty set on the name, Aaron just doesn’t completely know that yet.

Jack quickly finishes his cereal then goes upstairs to get changed. Aaron slips on shoes even though he is still wearing his pajamas. “You’re taking him to school like that?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

“It’s just an interesting choice for someone who usually wears a suit everyday,” I say. “At least I won’t have to worry about any soccer moms hitting on you.”

“I think they’ve learned better by now,” Aaron says as Jack runs down the steps with his bag. “Okay, buddy let’s go,” Aaron says as he ushers him to the garage.

“Bye Jack!” I call.

“Bye Mom!” he calls back and then the door shuts. I’m still not completely used to Jack calling me mom, but I still love it.

I get myself out of the dining room chair then waddle towards the steps. Before I can even get up one step, a gush of water spreads down my legs. Oh no.

**********

Luckily, it did not take Aaron long to get back. Once he got home, we both sprang into action and grabbed our things then got in the car.

I got checked in relatively quickly and am currently sitting in my hospital bed. The contractions just keep getting closer and closer together. I know she’s coming soon.

“Aaron,” I say because he is across the room talking to the doctor. He quickly leaves the doctor and comes to my side. “Hold my hand,” I say, nearly begging.

“Of course,” he says and takes my hand.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“The doctor is going to check to see how far along you are,” he says and I nod.

Dr. Larson soon pops out from my lower parts with a smile. “Okay, Mama it’s time to push. Are you ready?”

I look to Aaron before responding. He gives me a reassuring nod which gives me more confidence then he’ll ever know. “Let’s do this,” I say.

HOTCH POV

I lightly coo to the new bundle of joy that rests in my arms. I try to be as quiet as possible because Y/N just fell asleep.

I slowly rock my arms back and forth as my baby stares up at me. She’s calm and quiet, just like her dad. She let out a few cries the moment she was born, but since then she’s been quiet as a mouse. Her eyes flutter open and close, showing me her beautiful brown eyes.

I glance up at my girlfriend again. I can’t believe we created something so precious. I forgot that feeling when you have a newborn, but it’s all coming back. The warmth, the wholeness, the pureness. I can’t believe I have gone eight years without this feeling.

There is a soft knock at the door, then Jessica pokes her head in. “Can you take a visitor?” she asks and I raise my eyebrow, unsure. She pushes the door open a little wider and Jack carefully steps into the room. Jessica closes the door again to give us some privacy.

“Can I see her?” Jack asks softly and I nod. He comes the rest of the way over and stares down at her. “She’s really small.”

“You were this small once,” I whisper. We both stare down at her for a moment while she sleeps.

“Can I have my baby back?” I hear from behind Jack. Y/N has woken up from her very short nap, but has her arms held out for a baby.

“I wanted you to sleep a little longer,” I say as I stand up slowly.

“I can’t,” Y/N says. “This bed is lumpy.”

Finally, Y/N notices Jack and shows a large smile. “Jack! Did you get to meet your sister yet?”

“Yeah, but she’s sleeping,” he says.

Y/N scoots over to make a small empty space on the bed. “Come up here,” Y/N says. Jack hops up on the bed so he is squeezed next to Y/N. “Do you want to hold her?”

Jack nods excitedly. “Okay,” I say as I place her in Jack’s arms. “Make sure you support her head,” I add. Once the nerves go away, I realize my heart is bursting. The three people I love most in the world all in one place.

“Can I know her name now please?” Jack begs.

I look down at Y/N and smile which is all the confirmation she needs. “Okay,” Y/N says. “Her name is-,”

“Hi!” I hear from the doorway. Garcia is standing with a large bouquet of balloons. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, come in,” I say and she does. Garcia sets the balloon holder on the ground then slowly walks up to the bed. She looks down at our baby for a moment, then covers her mouth.

“Oh my gosh, she is just beautiful!” Garcia says.

“Well we think so,” I say as I stare down at her. She begins to fuss in her swaddle then lets out a loud wail. Y/N takes our baby from Jack then sighs.

“I think she’s hungry,” Y/N says.

“Okay, we’ll give you guys a minute,” Garcia says then leads Jack out of the room. Before I know it, Y/N is already feeding our baby. I sit on the edge of the bed and place my hand Y/N’s leg.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N chuckles.

I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m just so happy,” I say. “I am also so proud of you. I can’t believe you brought this beautiful, little girl into our lives.”

Y/N smiles down at her. “She is pretty perfect.”

I lean forward all the way and give her a kiss. “You’re perfect,” I whisper.

“Oh, Aaron,” Y/N laughs.

The more I think about it, the more I realize my whole life is perfect. I have a beautiful wife, two healthy children and a stable job. There is nothing more I could ever want.

I scoot closer to my daughter and my girlfriend. “Jane, how have we gone this long without you?” I ask.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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let me be your ruler.2

Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.

Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me.

Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.

You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.

‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…

You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface.

Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.

You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.

You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.

‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.

“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.

“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”

“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”

You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”

“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”

You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.

“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”

“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”

“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.

“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.

“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.”

You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.

“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”

“Hal, come on,” you snipped.

“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.

“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”

“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”

“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”

✨

Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back.

The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.

You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.

You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.

You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site.

You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.

Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.

✨

A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.

As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.

You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.

With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.

You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.

“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”

“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”

“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”

“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”

“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”

Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.

As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.

Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.

“What’s up with the music?” You asked.

“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.

Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.

As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.

You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform.

You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.

You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them.

Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?

You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”

“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”

“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.

You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”

“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”

“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.

“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”

“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”

✨

Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.

Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.

Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store.

As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”

“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”

“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”

“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.

“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”

“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”

“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”

You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.

You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.

You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.

“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”

“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”

“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.

“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”

She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.

“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.

“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”

“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”

“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”

“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”

You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”

Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.

“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”

“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.

“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.

“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”

“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”

“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”

“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”

“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?

“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”

You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.

“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”

“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”

“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”

You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.

He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.

“You really want me to go?” He asked.

You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”

He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.

He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”

“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”

“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”

“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”

“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”

His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.

“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”

He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.

“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”

You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.

You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head.

“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.

You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.

“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”

✨

The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.

He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.

“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”

“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.

“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”

You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.

“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”

“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.

“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”

“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”

You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.

“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”

“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”

“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”

You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.

You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”

“Apology. I…”

“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”

You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.

“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”

“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.

“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”

You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.

He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.

“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”

You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.

“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came.

You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.

“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #dark!fic #let me be your ruler #mob au #mafia au #au #mcu #marvel #series #spider-man #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

DIWK - Chapter nine: “Fuck it, I love you”

Word count: 8,2K

Summary: (Y/N) is struggling with her feelings for Spencer, and being just her friend might be harder than she thought. Spencer feels everybody but (Y/N) knows he is in love with her, and for a second, he is sure he will lose her.

Warnings: Cursing, angst frustration, mention of S03E09 (Penelope), usual Criminal Minds content.

A/N: Hello my dearest friends! hope you are having a great week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. All feedback is welcome!

Masterlist

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Since Rossi joined the team, we were as busy as we had been in a long time. We didn't have much free time, and most of the cases took us out of Virginia. But, it was our job, and we all liked it, which is why none of us complained much. No one but JJ, who still tried to keep her relationship with Will a secret.

On the bright side, all that traveling and working with the team got us even closer. Having Rossi there gave us a boost to be better at what we did and be even better friends. We had to spend a lot of time together, and by the look in David's eyes, you could tell he was surprised by how good we all got along. At least most of the time.

We were in Florida trying to find an unsub who kidnapped and mutilated women when it happened. After knowing them for over two years, Garcia and Morgan had a fight. A real fight.

- "Hey, how is it going with Father Marks? Any of the volunteers jumped out at him?"- I asked Morgan when I found him at the station after a long day trying to find a lead that might take us to the unsub or the victims.

- "Not yet"- my cellphone rang that second, and Garcia's voice at the other side of the line gave me more info on the case.

- "I'm still running the particulars of our homicides though vicap. Nothing so far."- she announced.

- "Ok. I just sent you the volunteer search list"- I walked from Morgan and sipped my coffee, feeling there was something off.

- "Ok. And I'm cross-checking the names against mental institution records."

- "Pay attention to individuals who were involuntarily committed in Florida. Rossi is convinced our unsub is the type that likes to stick close to home."

- "Got it. Talk to you later."

- "Wait, PG. You usually call Morgan about these kinds of things. Is everything ok?"- I whispered though I knew Morgan was paying a lot of attention to what I was talking about on the phone with Garcia.

- "God, I hate profilers"- she groaned at the other side of the line.

- "Come on, tell me."

- "Fine. I met this guy in the coffee shop I go to every day. His computer crashed, and I helped him fix it. He flirted, I flirted, and he asked for my number, and somehow I gave it to him 'cos he was incredibly hot and nice, and did I mention he was smoking hot? I didn't think he was going to call, but he did, which was surprising 'cos these things do not happen to me, sweet cheeks, never! But it did! And when I told Derek, he just told me I have to blow him off 'cos it's too weird."

- "What!?"- Penelope spoke so fast she didn't even breathe.

- "Yes! Just because he wouldn't hit on me doesn't mean another hot guy wouldn't! And he made me feel like I don't deserve anyone's attention."

- "I'm gonna kill him,"- I whispered and turned around. Derek wide opened his eyes and shrugged, not getting what was going on.

- "Don't. I'll take care of him when you guys come home."

- "Well, take care in the mid-time, and I'm here if you need to talk."

I hung down and sighed. Morgan looked at me, knowing I knew what happened between the two of them.

- "So?"

- "You fucked it up,"- I whispered and smacked his shoulder.

- "Is she furious?"

- "She's hurt. That's actually worse."- Derek sighed and shook his head.

- "What do I do?"

- "You mean, other than to apologize?"- I walked with him to get Hotch and tell him what Garcia had just informed us- "Think big, 'cos you really fucked it up."

- "What does Reid do when he fucks things up with you?"- Morgan asked, and I could sense the innuendo hidden in his words.

- "He doesn't do a thing, 'cos he never fucks up"- I answered with a pleased smile and turned to Hotch. It was time to catch a killer, not time to argue with Derek.

I always thought Morgan and Garcia were the greatest friends I had ever met. I could envy their relationship, especially 'cos they could be so flirtatious and so adorable, and at the same time, you knew their friendship was sacred.

I envied that. I don't think Penelope felt for Derek the way I felt about Spencer. That's why I was sure I had fucked it up. I didn't have to catch those kinds of feelings for my best friend, and I felt I had to find a way to get rid of them. I had to stop having a crush on Reid.

Those weeks had been challenging and yet amazing. It was awful knowing I had a crush on my best friend, but I was really enjoying all the time we were spending together. We had been sharing rooms for the last two cases, and that meant endless sleepovers with Spencer. After a long day, we would meet in our room and just share candies, ice cream, pizza, movies, whatever we needed to decompress.

If things had been too hard, I would lay with him on his bed and just cuddle for a while before going back to my bed. More than once, I fell asleep with him, feeling his fingers playing with my hair as he read. I always apologized the following day, but Spencer kept saying he didn't bother, that he had slept well and that I could always count on him whenever I felt bad.

Knowing I had never done that with Mikey or Frank more than a handful of times in all the years we had met each other made me feel like the shit. Sure, I could sleep in the same bed with them, but not the way I did with Spencer. This felt intimate. Serious. Real. Waking up in Spencer's arms was the best way to start my day, and each time it happened, it made me feel worst and worst 'cos I didn't want to ruin the best friendship I ever had over a silly, stupid, meaningless crush.

Each time it happened, I promised myself it would be the last one. And each time I did, I ended up falling into his arms again. It never meant anything sexual. It was just sharing a bed, cuddling. Holding each other. It was all the intimacy I always refused to share with other people. And I guess that's what freaked me out the most: how vulnerable I was with Reid and how much I enjoyed it for the very first time. Ever.

- "Hey,"- I heard Spencer whisper when we landed. I was curled up on his chest on the couch on the plane, as usual after a long case. I scratched my eyes, probably messing with my makeup, and smiled at him.

- "Sorry... you must have been awfully uncomfortable."

- "Not really. Besides, you looked like you needed a good nap,"- I chuckled and shook my head, sitting down correctly.

- "Next time I drool on your jacket, please wake me up,"- I collected all my things and took a look around- "What time is it?"

- "Almost midnight,"- he announced and stared at me as he held his go bag and put on his jacket- "Do you want to grab something to eat before you go home?"- and I nodded, thinking that was exactly what I had in mind.

But life had other plans, and this time it had nothing to do with us. We were about to get out of my car to catch a late dinner when I got a call from Hotch telling me Penelope was in the local hospital. Spencer's cell phone rang at the same time, and JJ announced the same. We looked at each other for a moment, scared of the worst, and all we managed to do was to get buckled up and drive to the hospital. We both needed to know Penelope would be ok, but all we knew was that she had been shot, and the doctors were doing all they could to save her life.

As soon as we reached the waiting area, we met Aaron and JJ. They looked as worried as we were.

- "She's in surgery,"- JJ announced, and I hugged her immediately- "There's no word."

- "This is crazy,"- Spencer whispered as I felt JJ's arms tighten around me.

- "I can't believe it! I talked to her before we took off."- I murmured and closed my eyes.

- "What do we know?"- Rossi asked, walking over in a hurry with Prentiss.

- "Police think it's a botched robbery,"- Aaron explained.

- "Where's Morgan?"- Emily asked, looking around the hall.

- "He's not answering his cell,"- JJ replied, and Spencer took his phone right away.

- "I'll call him again."

I looked at him as he walked away and turned to my friends. Emily and JJ were doing their best to stay strong, but it was clear they were fighting the tears back, just as badly as I was doing.

Spencer walked back and shook his head. He couldn't reach Morgan. I walked to him and rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. It was unreal. I felt I was in a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up, no matter how much I tried.

- "They can't give me an update,"- JJ walked over to us after half an hour. She had been trying to get more info about Penelope's condition, but nothing.

- "Morgan's phone just keeps going straight to voicemail,"- Spencer added, and Prentiss's angry voice nearly made me jump.

- "Where the hell is he?!"

Nearly two hours later, Spencer finally contacted Derek, and in less than half an hour, he rushed into the hospital and found us still waiting for news about Penelope. He ran over, shocked and confused, and looked at us, waiting for an explanation.

- "She's been in surgery a couple of hours."- JJ whispered as soon as he stood by our side.

- "I was at church. My phone was off,"- he explained and mostly tried to excuse himself for not being there earlier.

- "There is nothing you could have been doing here,"- Reid whispered, trying to make him feel better. Spoiler: it didn't work. Morgan was getting more and more hyperventilated with every second he spent in that hospital.

- "The police got any leads?"

- "I spoke to the lead detective. He doesn't think we'll get anything from the scene."

Hotch spoke in the calmest voice he had. Morgan was about to say something but bit his tongue. Instead of yelling, he walked around the hall for a few minutes until a doctor approached us.

- "Penelope Garcia?"- and we all nearly yelled "Yes" as a desperate reply.

- "The bullet went into her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen. She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries."

- "So what are you saying?"- JJ questioned as we all held our breath.

- "One centimeter over, and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle."

The way we all sighed, relieved at those words, was priceless and unbeatable. The doctor smiled at us and added.

- "She needs her rest. You can see her in the morning."

- "Thank you,"- I smiled at him, and he was gone. I turned around and looked at Reid. He cut me a short smile as Hotch's voice caught our attention.

- "David and I will go to the scene. I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."

We all nodded right away. No one had other plans. And after those words, Hotch and Rossi were out of the hospital, and we were left waiting for Penelope to come back from surgery.

- "How are you?"- Reid whispered and handed me a new cup of coffee.

- "Scared. You?"

- "Me too"

- "Who could ever want to hurt Penny? She is adorable,"- I murmured and shook my head.

- "We are gonna find whoever did this"- Spencer held my hand and cut me the warmest smile. I nodded and looked at Derek, who stood up from his chair for the hundredth time and walked to Penelope's room to see if she was ok.

- "In case we ever fight, I want you to know I will always forgive you,"- I murmured in Spencer's ear and rested my head on his shoulder.

- "Should I be worried?"- he asked me, and I just shook my head.

- "I just wanted you to know that you will always be my best friend, Spencer Walter Reid. No matter what happens between us."

And I meant every word back then. I had no idea what was coming ahead and how much things would change within a few months.

Spencer's point of view

The attack against Penelope hit us all hard. She had been shot by the same man who had invited her out for dinner. The one she and Derek had had a fight about.

Of course, Morgan was the one who was more affected by the whole situation. I tried to comfort him, and he nearly killed me. I knew Derek didn't mean to be mean. He was just losing it and feeling overwhelmingly guilty about everything going on. He was in hell, and you could tell. I didn't want to think what it would be like to be in his place. If anything ever happened to (Y/N) and I wasn't there to help her, I would go crazy. So I understood how Derek felt and did my best to be supportive.

Those days also made it pretty evident Rossi was still shocked we were such close friends and team members at the same time. I know he was friends with Gideon, but the fact our friendship surprised him so much made me wonder how close they really were.

It didn't get better when we were all asked to stop working on the case after Hotch found an encrypted file in Garcia's system, and she ended up suspended. That's who we found out how the FBI had recruited her.

Morgan and I were at the hospital with Penelope when Hotch gave her the news and heard the story of her hackers days. Something that I bet she didn't really want us to know about her.

- "After my parents died, I... kind of went off the rails for a while. I dropped out of Cal Tech. I lived underground, basically. But I kept teaching myself code. It was like the one thing that kept me together. In the way, the bureau decided to keep an eye on me, I guess... Did you know they keep track of hackers?"

Neither Morgan nor I opened our mouths. We couldn't, 'cos we were processing the whole information.

- "They do, of the ones who have the skill to be either extremely useful or a potential menace."

- "So they offered you a job?"- I asked her, and she simply nodded- "Like Frank Abagnale. The bureau figured if you can't beat 'em, hire 'em."

- "Yeah. Something like that."

- "Garcia, what's on the encrypted file?"- Derek crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her, waiting to hear nothing but the truth.

- "I'm required to keep a record of everything the team does. And after my system got hacked and Elle got shot, I just didn't want anyone else to be able to get at you."

- "We'll talk to the doctor, see if he'll clear you to leave,"- I whispered and left the room, just in time to get JJ's call to announce we were officially off the case. It wasn't good, and it wasn't getting any better at all.

In a way, the fact we were all such good friends wasn't as beneficial to the case as it could be. It all came clear later that night. Penelope was attacked again, this time in her own house. Unfortunately, a cop was killed in the process, and if it weren't for Morgan, who insisted on crashing her couch that night, Penelope would have been dead too.

We were all at her house at three in the morning. We wanted to take her to the BAU and keep her safe, though we all knew it would be hard to explain to the authorities, all things considered. We were all just talking about what had just happened when Garcia started remembering more details about her date with her attacker, and we decided to ask more questions about it in case she could give us more info that might lead us to him.

- "Tell us about the car,"- I told her and sat in front of her.

- "Why?"

- "Just go with him"- Morgan smiled at her and nodded, trying to reassure her everything was ok. It wasn't, not even close.

- "You said it was white, 4-door, American. What else?"- I asked Penelope, but she shook her head, confused.

- "That's it. It was just a car."

- "No, come on, think. Anything. Go back."- Morgan held her hand. We could tell she was trying her best to cooperate, and he was making his best effort to be sweet and calm, considering he was losing it to catch the asshole who hurt her.

- "The seat belt was buckled behind his back. Why does that matter?"- and that was progress.

- "It wasn't a rental. It was for surveillance,"- Derek explained to her.

- "Agents don't wear seat belts. They need to get out in a hurry"- (Y/N) added and was about to add something else when Rossi walked across the room and sat in front of Penelope.

- "All right, let's cut the crap. You need to be straight with us. Right now!"- she wide opened her eyes in shock and turned to Morgan- "Look at me, not them!"- Rossi commanded.

- "I'm not hiding anything,"- Garcia whispered, astonished.

- "You got shot. Most people get shot for a reason,"- she tried to look at Derek again- "Eyes here!"

- "Ease up, Rossi!"- Morgan shouted when David raised his voice, scaring everybody in that room.

- "You got a roomful of people here willing to believe that an FBI agent has tried to kill you. We need to know everything you do on company time that we don't know about!"

Rossi yelled on her face, pushing her to tell the truth, and Garcia nearly started crying.

- "What?"

- "Come on, man!"- I guess we were all waiting for Derek to lose it and punch him.

- "It's nothing bad!"- Penelope yelled, and every eye in the room turned to her.

- "Spit it out!"- David pushed her again.

- "It's... I counsel victims' families, and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them."

- "What does that mean?"- Rossi frowned and kept his eyes on hers.

- "It just means that the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them, so whoever's investigating them knows that the FBI considers them a priority."

- "You're not authorized to do that"- Hotch's voice was as severe as kind, which surprised us all. Rossi the most, I guess, 'cos he stood up and turned around.

- "I know. I was just trying to help."- Garcia whispered, fighting the tears back.

- "But whoever's working those cases thinks you're watching them,"- (Y/N) said in a softer voice, probably to explain to Garcia how the whole situation had ended up with her being shot.

- "I just wanted to put pressure on them so that they don't slide,"- Penelope excused herself.

- "How many cases are we talking about?"- Hotch asked.

- "I don't know. 7, 8 maybe. I need to get into my system."

- "You can't. You're suspended,"- Hotch reminded her, though it sounded more like "you are grounded."

- "Wait a minute,"- Morgan interrupted the conversation- "Garcia, on your date, you said this guy was pressing you to find out if you were working murder cases. Hotch, we gotta look at those files."

Hotch looked at David, who was still as pissed as earlier. I don't think neither of us had ever seen him acting like it.

- "I told you, I'm sick of this jagoff being in front of us,"- Rossi said to him, and Aaron nodded.

- "Dave's right. We'll go back to the BAU. Morgan, Reid, (Y/N), Prentiss, you stay here and make sure no one forgets to log out of the system. Garcia should not have access."

We all stayed in her living room as Garcia walked to her room and hacked her own system. At the other side of the screen, Kevin Lynch, the analyst of another FBI department, was fighting back, trying to protect the files, and losing the fight after a few minutes.

Later on, (Y/N) explained to me that was how they met and finally how they fell in love. I guess everything happens for a reason, after all.

We didn't catch the bad guy that day. Instead, JJ was forced to kill him. It was the very first time she shot anyone, and surprisingly, she wasn't as shook up as we all imagined she might be.

- "You do whatever it takes to protect your family,"- she said when Penelope asked her if she was ok.

And she was right. That's how we all felt for each other at that point. And somehow, we all knew we were going to prove it, sooner or later.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I had been part of the BAU for almost three years already when it happened. And I felt so stupid 'cos we had all had a rough couple of weeks, and the last thing anyone needed was another worry. We had just gotten over the whole Penelope issue; having another member of the team injured was the worst thing that could happen.

But it did.

I got shot.

We were after our unsub. George Flemming. The bastard had killed four women in less than a month, convinced God had sent him to Earth to get rid of sin. We had been after him for two whole weeks until we finally got him. But I was stupid and reckless and didn't wait for backups. I wanted to catch that mother fucker, 'cos the way he had killed those women made me madder than I had ever been with an unsub before. That's too dangerous. You can't lose yourself in a case, 'cos you lose your objectivity. You risk your life every day in this job, but that specific day, I put mine on a silver platter.

We were supposed to wait for backup. I was just checking the perimeter, searching for the unsub. Spencer was with me, but he stayed behind for a second, trying to contact Garcia to run the plate number of a car we found hidden in a barn. I should have waited for him, but I couldn't stay still and do nothing when I heard a woman screaming for help. I had to run and try to save her. I wasn't going to let George kill yet another innocent woman and get away with it. He had to pay.

- "FBI! Freeze!"- I shouted as I walked into the last room of the house and found George holding close and pointing a gun at a woman who was covered in blood and bruises but still very much alive. Which, I must say, was a relief.

- "Stay away!! I'll shoot her!! I swear I'm gonna shoot her!!"

The unsub was sweating cold; he looked sick and weak. He looked like I could definitely take him down in a fight.

- "George! Put down the gun!"- I commanded and didn't move my eyes from him.

- "You put your gun down!"

- "I am sorry, George, but I can't do that!"- I answered- "Now let her go and put the gun down before anyone else gets hurt."

- "I don't have to listen to a whore like you! Who do you think you are? Giving me commands? You are evil!! Evil!"- he shouted, clearly losing control.

- "(Y/N), where the hell are you?!"- I heard Reid asking in the earpiece, and I just shook my head.

- "That's all you've got, George? Hiding women in the back of your house and threatening them with your gun? That makes your God proud?"

- "Shut up!! You bring disgrace to Earth! You should be punished too!!"- I took a step closer slowly and shook my head.

- "You are going to be punished, George. For killing innocent women."

- "Innocent? What makes you think they didn't deserve it?"

- "What makes you think you are the one to judge them?"

I kept my gun pointed at him, but I couldn't take a shot 'cos he grabbed the victim and kept her close to him, like a shield.

- "There's a special place in hell for whores like you!"- he announced, and suddenly, all I could feel was pain. There was a second gunshot, and George was down. I took a look around and saw Morgan still pointing his gun at him from outside the room, as Spencer and Prentiss ran inside, and he moved to me and held me close.

- "Medic!! We need a medic!!"- Reid yelled frantically through the speaker- "(Y/N)! How do you feel?"

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- I whispered in the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my entire life- He just shot my shoulder, nothing important.

But the way Spencer looked at me, I swear that no one has ever looked at me the same until this day.

- "Don't move!"- he commanded, though his voice was soft and gentle. Prentiss took care of checking George's body. He was clearly dead. She liberated his last hostage and helped her to the ambulance while Reid stayed by my side until a doctor appeared.

- "Why didn't you wait for me?"- Spencer asked as they took me to the ambulance.

- "She needed help"- that was all I could say.

- "Please, try not to talk,"- the paramedic commanded and got me into the ambulance, followed closely by Reid.

- "I'm coming with her."

My best friend wasn't asking for permission. He was informing the medical team he wasn't going anywhere else. And by the tone of his voice, it was clear no one was ever going to change his mind.

- "That was so stupid, chipmunk,"- Spencer whispered and held my hand in our way to the nearest hospital. The paramedics kept pressing my shoulder to stop the bleeding, and I just closed my eyes 'cos honestly, it hurt too much to process what was going on.

- "I am so sorry I wasn't there with you, chipmunk."

- "It's ok, honey,"- I mumbled- "You are right. I was stupid. This is my fault."

- "Please, don't talk,"- the paramedic commanded again, and I just shut up 'cos the pain was too much.

Spencer stayed by my side the whole time. After we reached the hospital, the paramedics took me to the ER, where a doctor cleaned my wound and took out the bullet from my shoulder.

It was a clean wound, and luckily, no arteries were hit. I just got some stitches and a sling, plus a few painkillers I really didn't want to take, 'cos after Spencer's experience with drugs, I was scared of painkillers.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered to the nurse who helped me get dressed and walked out of the room to find Spencer filling up the medical forms and Morgan and Prentiss waiting for me

- "How are you feeling, princess?"- Derek asked and caressed my cheek.

- "Like a virgin"- I sang the Madonna song- "Shot for the very first time"- and though Emily chuckled, Spencer didn't think it was funny.

- "I can't believe you think this is something to joke about!"- Reid frowned, upset.

- "Calm down, honey. I'm ok, I'm alive. It was just a shot on the shoulder."

- "Just? Just a shot in the shoulder?"- and Spencer freaked out- "Did you know some of the larger vessels of the human body run through the shoulder? The subclavian artery and vein, which by the way, are the basic blood supply to the upper extremity."

- "I'm sorry, honey bunny. I shouldn't have said that."- I whispered and tried to calm him down, 'cos I knew precisely the kind of man Spencer could be when he was mad and stressed.

- "The brachial plexus is also located in the shoulder, and it's the primary nerve supply to the upper extremity as well,"- he added and didn't take his eyes from the form he was filling.

- "I understand,"- I added, but he didn't stop.

- "You should also know that the shoulder is a very complex spheroid joint, and if it's injured, it can lead to lifelong disability."

I stood in front of Spencer and placed my movable hand on his chest. That forced him to stop writing and look at me.

- "I'm sorry I got hurt. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to make you mad at me or worry. I am ok, I am here, and I promise I won't do something as stupid and reckless as this ever again. Ok?"

Spencer looked at me and sighed. Morgan and Prentiss were still there by our side, and I had the feeling that stopped my friend from saying what was in his mind. Instead, he nodded and cut me a short smile.

- "Good. Can we go home now?"- I asked, and Morgan grabbed my bag immediately.

- "The jet is waiting, pretty girl. Let's go."

The flight back home was too long. It was only a four hours flight from Fargo to Quantico. But it felt eternal. Besides, I kept doing my best to act cool and in zero pain, in a poor attempt not to worry Spencer. Little did I know, no matter what, he would be worried sick anyway.

- "I was on the phone with Frank,"- he announced and sat in front of me with a cup of hot chocolate.

- "Please don't tell me you called to tell him I got shot,"- Spencer stared at me and cut me a short smile. I closed my eyes and groaned- "Did he go nuts?"

- "No, I started by telling him you were alright."

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and sipped the cup he had prepared for me just the way I liked it, even with the little marshmallows.

- "Your mom went bonkers, though."

- "You called my mom?!"- I shouted, and everybody in the team turned around and looked at us- "Why did you do that?"- Spencer looked at me surprised and frowned.

- "You just got shot, chipmunk. Of course, I'm gonna tell your mom!"

- "But she is going to overreact!"

- "She won't! We already talked. She said she'd stop tomorrow by your apartment to have lunch."

- "Tomorrow, I'll be at work for lunch,"- I frowned, and I swear I wanted to cross my arms on my chest, but I couldn't, 'cos... I have been shot.

- "You won't be back to work until next week,"- Aaron announced from his seat, overhearing the conversation.

- "But Hotch! I'm ok!"

- "Spencer is correct. You just got shot. Take the rest of the week,"- I groaned and frowned at my boss.

- "I can still do my paperwork."- I can't believe I was begging not to get days off from work.

- "You do realize most people don't argue when their bosses give them a few days off, right princess?"- Derek took off his headphones and asked, frowning.

- "But I'm not injured,"- I argued, but I knew I was losing that fight.

- "Chipmunk, may I remind you, you just got shot!"- Spencer looked at me, annoyed.

- "But I'm fine! Look at me! I can dance!"- I was about to stand up and do a little dance, but Reid stopped me. He literally grabbed my good arm and kept me on my seat.

- "It's Wednesday. You just have to stay home Thursday and Friday. And I'll be there, making sure you won't do anything stupid."

I looked at Spencer and groaned one more time.

- "There's no way out of this, (Y/N). You are hurt, and I'm gonna take care of you."

- "Will you cook?"- I whispered and pouted, defeated. And Spencer chuckled, blushing.

- "I will definitely call and ask for your favorite food"- I tried not to smile and shook my head.

- "Oh no, no. If you wanna take the lead and take care of me, you will have to do the whole job and cook, Spencer Walter Reid."- I teased him, and his cheeks turned blood red in less than a minute.

- "Fine,"- he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

- "I can give you my carbonara a la Rossi recipe,"- David said to Spencer from his seat- "Guaranteed to heal all wounds, and special to cheer up your girlfriend, kid."

Everybody stayed quiet at the same time. I wide opened my eyes, shocked, and looked at Spencer, whose cheeks were burning red.

- "She... (Y/N) is not my girlfriend,"- Spencer mumbled and avoided looking at me for a few seconds. Rossi chuckled and turned to us.

- "You call each other cute nicknames, you are always together, you argue like I did with my first wife..."

- "No"- I shook my head and did my best to ignore Derek's teasing comments and Emily's laughter.

- "Well, you could have fooled me,"- David smiled at me, and I didn't know what to answer. I frowned and looked at Spencer, who somehow was even more blushed than he had been a moment earlier.

- "I'm driving you, by the way,"- he whispered, and I didn't really have the strength to argue against that, so I just nodded and sighed.

Spencer's point of view

I thought I was going to die when I saw (Y/N) lying on the floor, blood coming from her shoulder. Time passed in slow motion, like a movie cliché. I ran to her, and I didn't know if the perimeter had been secured. I had no idea if the unsub was dead. I would have killed him myself if I hadn't been focused on (Y/N).

Then she smiled and assured me she was ok. But that wasn't enough for me. Her face was so pale, though her smile was shining bright. So I held her and called a medic. She was in pain, and I didn't know what to do to help her.

I held her hand the whole ride to the hospital and stayed by her side in the ER while the doctor cleaned her wound and put some stitches on it. Then I walked with her to the jet, and the whole time I made my best and biggest effort to stay calm. But once we were on the air, on our way back home, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I could feel the tears fighting their way out, no matter how much I tried to keep them inside.

So I did what seemed more logical and locked myself in the backroom. I needed a minute to put myself together again before I had to continue pretending I didn't nearly lose the woman I love that day. So I washed my face and let the water run through my fingers for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. But I failed, and the tears started falling down my cheeks anyway.

I rested my back against the door and slowly slipped down to the floor until I was sitting, hugging my legs, crying my heart out.

I knew why I was crying. It was a weird mix of fear and relief. I was scared to lose (Y/N), and at the same time, relieved nothing terrible had happened to her. I had to convince myself it was all ok, that she was there on the plane with me, hopefully trying to get some rest.

- "Spence?"- I heard JJ's voice at the other side of the door, and I quickly stood up and washed my face saying, "In a minute." I looked at my reflex. My eyes were puffed, my cheeks were red. There was no way I could ever convince anyone I hadn't been crying.

- "Can you open the door?"

- "There's another bathroom, JJ,"- I said and closed my eyes.

- "I need to talk to you."

- "I'm kind of busy here..."

- "Spence, please"- she begged, and I gave up, only because I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone. No one at the BAU seems to understand the concept of personal space.

I opened the door and let her in. The bathroom was too small for the two of us, and I didn't want to think of all the teasing I would get from Morgan if he saw us locked in there. JJ smiled and handed me a cup of coffee. I just sipped it carefully, 'cos it was very hot, and looked at my hands, avoiding eye contact.

- "Why were you crying?"- she whispered and stood against the wall in front of me.

- "I wasn't,"- I lied, but she just raised an eyebrow, and I knew it was useless to deny it- "It was a hard day, and I needed to decompress somehow."

- "Was it because of (Y/N)?"- she simply asked, and I just nodded- "It wasn't your fault, Spence."

- "I should have been there. But I stayed behind, on the phone with Garcia checking the plate of a car that didn't even matter at the end."

- "You were doing your job, and so was she."

- "But I should have done my job better, 'cos something bad might have happened to her, and I would have never forgiven myself,"- JJ nodded and reached out for one of my hands. I tried not to look at her but failed.

- "Are you going to tell her how you feel?"

- "Telling her I feel guilty she got injured won't stop her from being reckless,"- but JJ shook her head.

- "No, Spence. I'm talking about you telling her you are in love with her."

I widened my eyes and stayed still, shocked, blushed. JJ cut me a short smile and probably tried to soothe me, 'cos I immediately got all defensive.

- "What... what are you talking about? I am not in love with (Y/N),"- I whispered and prayed no one outside that bathroom had heard her.

- "Spencer, there is nothing wrong with being in love. I actually think you two would make a cute couple."

- "No, JJ, no. I am not in love with her."

- "Spence, I'm not a profiler, but you are not that hard to read. I can see the way you look at her."

- "She is my best friend."

- "But you love her,"- JJ sentenced, and I just sighed- "It's not wrong to have feelings for someone, Spence. I am sure she feels the same way too."

- "We are just friends. That's it. Thanks for the coffee,"- I added and opened the door.

I walked out of the bathroom in a rush. To avoid talking with anyone on the plane, I called Frank and told him what had happened. I also asked him for Mrs. (Y/L/N) phone number and explained the facts too. She was so scared it took me a while to calm her down.

- "I'm going to stay with her tonight,"- I said and looked at (Y/N) at the other side of the yet. She hadn't slept at all, and I knew she had to rest.

- "Thank you, Spencer. I'll be in Virginia tomorrow. I'm visiting Phoenix in New York this week."

- "Don't worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), I'll take care of her."

- "You are the sweetest man she could have met,"- she whispered before hanging down, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew it too.

Apparently, I wasn't hiding my feelings for (Y/N) very well. If JJ could see it, maybe anyone else could. And after what Rossi said, I didn't know if I was busted or not. I didn't know anything. (Y/N) seemed to be as shocked as I pretended to be, so I guess I felt safe. But I knew I had to watch my back now.

Of course, planning to stay with her that night didn't make it easier for me at all.

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- she argued and sat carefully on her couch- "You don't have to stay here with me."

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk, but you were shot. There is nothing on Earth that's gonna make me leave you alone right now."

- "Fine, then help me take a shower,"- she simply said, and I widened my eyes. I know I even held my breath at that. I stared at her from the kitchen door, on my way to make her a cup of tea.

- "Well, in that case, I, I will do... I will do whatever you need to help you,"- I whispered and made my best not to stutter. She shook her head and sighed.

- "I was bluffing, honey. But I mean it, you don't have to stay and take care of me. I'll be fine. Just go home and rest,"- but all I could do was walk to the kitchen and put on the kettle.

- "I'm not going anywhere, so... how do you feel about that carbonara a la Rossi recipe?"

- "Spencer Walter Reid, you don't cook."

- "I do cook! Do you think I've lived on take-outs and coffee all these years?"

- "Hell yeah!"- she said and chuckled. She was right, though. I wasn't the best or more experienced cooker on Earth. But for her, I could try.

- "I tell you what. What if you take a bath and relax, I'll cook you dinner, and then we'll watch a movie? Anything you pick."

- "Anything?"- she raised an eyebrow and stared at me so sweetly and concentrated, I nearly stopped breathing. I didn't trust myself with an answer, so I just nodded and looked at her. Her cheeks were blushing, and that made me feel better. Clearly, she was relaxing at home. The color was coming back to her after being hurt. That was always a good sign.

- "Even my favorite chick flick?"- (Y/N) bit her lips and caught my full attention with that simple movement. I nodded again, not really thinking what she meant with "chick flicks." All I could think of were her lips and how incredibly soft they looked.

- "Even Pride and Prejudice?"- she added, and I nodded again.

- "It's an essential piece of literature. Jane Austen was an incredible writer,"- my voice was muffled, and her eyes were shining- "Did you know In 1802, in her late 20s, Austen briefly accepted a proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, the younger brother of two of her close friends? She rescinded it the following day."

- "Yes, neither her nor her sister ever married"- (Y/N) added, and her eyes moved from mine, traveling around the room- "She believed that a woman shouldn't get married if she wasn't in love. She once advised her niece Fanny Knight that "anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without affection."

Somehow, (Y/N)'s eyes were blurry with sadness all of a sudden. Her words stopped. I was tempted to hold her hands that rested on her lap but stopped myself. I was scared to give too much away, and that she suspected how I felt about her. I didn't want her thinking I was in love with her. Don't get me wrong, I was. I am. And I know I will always love her. But that night on that couch, I was afraid of her rejection and scared she might have stopped being my friend if she ever knew how I really felt about her.

- "Maybe you are right, honey,"- (Y/N) whispered and slowly stood up- "I'll take that bath after all."

- "Watch those stitches"- I quickly stood up too and just nodded, looking at her as she started walking towards her room- "I'll cook dinner meanwhile."

- "Thank you, honey bunny,"- she said and turned around just to cut me a small smile before disappearing into her bedroom.

I made my best effort with dinner. I followed Rossi's instructions to the letter. (Y/N) had a lot of food in her fridge. Unlike me, she actually cooked her own meals. She was right about me and the take-outs. I had never been a great cook, and I trusted my local Thai place with most of my dinners. But that night was different.

Pasta carbonara was pretty good, I must say. (Y/N) opened a bottle of wine, though I told her it was a horrible idea mixing drinking with the pain killers she was prescribed.

- "I am actually not taking them,"- she whispered and took a sip of red.

- "You had a major injure on that shoulder (Y/N)."

- "It's just five stitches, honey. I don't need those pills. I actually didn't even get them,"- she replied. I looked at her in awe, thinking she was way stronger than she even gave herself credit for.

- "In that case, you can have two glasses of wine and extra dessert,"- I stated, and she chuckled.

We ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I guess the two of us were pretty tired that night. It had been a long day, a long case, and though neither of us wanted to deal with it, we knew things could have easily gone wrong.

After eating, I cleaned the dishes and prepared a tray with a cup of herbal tea for (Y/N), a coffee for me, and two bowls of ice cream, and we cuddled on the couch to watch Pride and Prejudice. She whispered most of the lines and argued against Darcy for half of the movie. But by the end, she snuggled closer to me, and I wrapped an arm around her carefully, trying not to get near her shoulder at all. Her head was resting on my chest, and I could feel her sighing with each word that Darcy spoke.

- "What is it with you and this book?"- I asked her suddenly. She huffed and looked at me with a cut, short smile.

- "I don't know, but I've been obsessing with Darcy and Lizy ever since I first read the story. I guess the classic "fools in love" story is my weakness. How couldn't they see how much they loved each other from day one?"

My mouth fell open, but I didn't say a word. She just smiled and turned to the screen again. That was good. I didn't want her to see how flustered I was.

- "Darcy knew he loved her, but he tried to fall out of love with her, and she was completely blinded by her so-called "hate" towards him to deal with her real feelings."- (Y/N) added- "I know that's not a complex and complete study of the story but in a short version of the whole plot... I guess that's what's so endearing and addictive about it. Everyone has been Darcy or Lizzy."

- "I doubt most people can relate with having four sisters and an obsessive nervous mother who keeps forcing you to get married,"- I joked, and (Y/N) giggled.

- "You'd be surprised, honey,"- she sighed and snuggled closer. My hand played with her hair for a few more minutes until the end of the movie.

- "(Y/N)?"- I whispered when we were already in bed. I wore the pajamas I kept in my go bag and crawled into bed with her as soon as she asked me to sleep with her. Ee had done it before, it wasn't weird, and we were best friends.

There was absolutely nothing friendly with how I felt, though. But I had to put all those feelings in a box and hide them deep inside of me 'cos they were no good for our relationship.

- "What happens, Spencer?"

- "I just wanted to tell you... you scared me today,"- she sighed. We were already hugged, but she snuggled closer and kissed my cheek softly.

- "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'll be more careful, I promise."

It was such a simple promise, and I knew though she meant well, the job was always going to get in the way. Our lives were always on the line working at the BAU. And no matter how much we wanted to take care of ourselves, sometimes things were out of our control.

- "Promise me you'll be careful too,"- she whispered, and I leaned over to kiss the top of her head gently.

- "I promise I'll be careful, chipmunk."

- "Will you always come home to me?"- she whispered and sighed, dozing off.

- "Always. I love you so much, (Y/N)"- that last confession fell from my lips before I could even realize what I was saying.

- "I love you too, honey,"- she answered, her voice muffled against my chest.

I stayed still, trying to burn in my memory every second of that moment, 'cos I knew it was going to be one of my most precious memories until my last day.

–

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–

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Next update: June 9th, 2021

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Spencer Reid fanfic #spencer x reader #Criminal Minds Fanfic #Matthew Gray Gubler #Babymetaldoll writes #fluff #angst #Spencer reid fanfiction #DIWK #Series #Criminal Minds rewrite #Derek Morgan #Penelope Garcia #Aaron Hotchner #David Rossi #jeniffer jareau

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songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

Text

Polka-dotted Bandages

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Mentions of injury, the tiniest bit of angst, and fluff galore <3

Requested by @luluwiie :

"There is no limit in the number of requests", you said? Welllll... then can I request ? 😳❤ if the answer is yes: can I request a slow burn / pining Todoroki x Reader Oneshot ? 😶👉👈 Like, when they train together, Reader got into the habit of always taking care of his scratches and wounds, which at first confused Todoroki, cause Recovery girl is there for this, right ? But with time he got used and even grew attached to this little habit of ours. And one day, for some reason, Reader ends up badly injured (in a fight, against vilains? Idk), and he rushes to the hospital and is like sooo worried.. and when Reader wakes up they find like some band-aids on their little scratches, just like the ones they often use for him ? And we get to see their reunion Ajajdusdj TYSM if you do it 😳❤

A/N: I LITERALLY FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS REQUEST.... which is why I had to rewrite it like twenty times before I was finally satisfied with how it turned out lol. I really hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the request! <3

Word Count: 2.2K

Ever since the age of five when his quirk made itself known to him, the world, and most unfortunately his father, little nicks and cuts were always a common thing to find all over his body. To this day, however careful Shouto was in training, they were ordinary occurrences. It wasn’t like he was careless, far from it in fact, he just got a little… distracted sometimes. How could he not when you were training right across from him? Your skill and poise were originally the traits that drew him in to hoping for a friendship with you. Those paired with your optimistic personality and effortless smile captured his attention completely. So, when he accidentally grazed his leg against a piece of metal that was jutting out haphazardly, he was unprepared for your attention to be on him.

“Shouto, are you okay? That looks like it really hurts,” you huff, out of breath from the last set of crunches you had just completed. The red-and-white haired boy looked in between you and his now bleeding cut with a somewhat blank stare.

“Oh… yes I think I’m fine,” He answered awkwardly, assessing the wound and slowly moving his hand to cover it. That is, until your hand caught his wrist.

“Wait, your hands aren’t clean!” You exclaim as you dig through your bag with the hand that wasn’t currently occupied. “Here, I have some disinfectant in my bag.” Shouto watches as you pull the little bottle of antiseptic out of your bag as well as some cotton balls and a little box of bandages. You douse one of the cotton balls with some disinfectant, accidentally spilling a little on your hands in the process, and hold it right in front of his cut. “Do you mind?” You ask, making sure Shouto was okay with your movements.

“No, go ahead,” He manages, keeping his composure but feeling his heart skip a bit. You flash him a grin before placing one of your hands on his leg to steady yourself.

“This might sting a bit, but it goes away pretty quickly,” you explain, slowly pressing the cotton ball to his wound. You made sure to clean the dirt and grime away quickly, your gentle and dexterous fingers going around the edges of the cut.

“Y/N?” Shouto’s voice was somewhat jarring in the comfortable silence you two had, causing your gaze to snap up to his.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” You asked hurriedly, your eyes filled with concern. He shook his head, allowing you a breath of relief before turning your attention back on his wound.

“I’m just curious as to why you are doing this, since we have Recovery Girl on call all day. I’m sure it would be no issue for her,” He asked as you disposed of the now slightly bloody cotton ball and digged around in the box to pull out a blue and white polka-dotted bandage.

“Well I didn’t want you to accidentally infect it,” you begin, smoothing the bandage across the cut, “plus, it's nice to do things like this for a friend, don’t you think?” You smile, satisfied that the coverage of the polka dots fit perfectly over the damaged skin. Your eyes finally go back up to Shouto, whose hand was held out to you. You take it as he helps you stand from your crouched position on the floor. Shouto smiled at the little notion and fell into a comfortable pace with you as the both of you walked back towards the direction of the dorms. Over time, Shouto began to like the little habit the two of you developed - he liked it quite a lot. Not ever had he been touched in such a caring and tender manner, and when it was coming from you… it was pure solace that he felt. And, gradually, as the two of you fell into a comfortable friendship - with more than a few lingering glances on his part - he felt that finally he was at a time in his life where he found someone that could understand him completely.

Buildings were leveled, the streets had craters in them, and your breathing was uneven. Of course, when Class 1A was on a day trip into the city, villains had decided to take action. The day was going too perfectly, you guessed. It really only was once in a while that the teachers would let you have a long day off to go shopping or enjoy the city life. Due to this incident, though, you’re pretty sure that they’ll be revoking those privileges as soon as the class steps their feet back on UA property. If you were lucky, maybe you wouldn’t be confined in the big dorm building for a week due to safety concerns.

“H/N, you take the guy on the left, I’ll take the annoying one in the middle!” You heard your classmate, Mina, shout to you. The pink-haired girl was currently fighting off a criminal with a nasty quirk - blood manipulation, as long as they were in some physical pain themself. That was probably why the guy was intentionally biting down on his tongue.

“You’ve got it!” You yell back, launching yourself into the fray and readying your quirk to attack. With the villain set straight on in front of you, you let your eyes zero in on them, everything besides them becoming a blur. That was why, when the enemy that was fighting Mina set their sights on you, you were unable to react quick enough.

Shouto was, more or less, beginning to panic. Everyone was accounted for… everyone except for you. That’s when he caught sight of a familiar pink-haired girl crouching down with tears leaking from her eyes.

“Ashido, have you seen Y/N?” He asked exasperatedly, beginning to grow frustrated with the lack of information involving the Y/H/C haired girl. This only caused Mina to sob more, her pitiful gaze finally looking up into Shouto’s.

“Th-they hit me with their quirk and it made the wind get knocked out of me,” she hiccuped, wiping underneath her eyes to try and rid the moisture from her cheeks. “They hurt Y/N really, really badly.” As soon as those words left her lips, Shouto felt his entire body grow cold. It wasn’t like the cold he used to regulate his body temperature when he used too much of his left side. This was a chill that encompassed his body as a whole, making him feel hollow. As Mina’s words grew more jumbled, Shouto felt his breathing go shallow and his hands beginning to tremble.

“Where,” He asked forcefully.

“Musutafu General Hospital.”

And with those three words, Shouto began running, and didn’t stop until he was at the massive glass doors of the lobby. He walked swiftly to the help desk and slammed his hands on the top of it, a little harder than he intended.

“Y/N L/N, she’s a member of Class 1A at UA, and she was taken to this hospital due to events that occurred downtown. Where is she.” The receptionist looked up to find an angered Shoto, his eyes blazing and narrowed.

“I-I’m sorry?” They asked, a little terrified of him.

“Y/N L/N, she is a patient here. WHERE IS SHE?” He demanded. The receptionist jumped in their seat and began to vigorously click on their computer, searching through patient charts.

“She’s, uh, on floor four, just got out of emergency surgery and is recovering. Room 107.” He didn’t stay to hear anything else they had to say as he sprinted to the staircase, ascending the stairs in record speed. When he arrived on the correct floor, a sudden feeling of misery descended upon him. Sitting in a little seating area, he saw as surgeons - still clad in their scrubs - were hugging a family of four, all of them sobbing in despair. This stirred him to now stumble down the hallways wildly, frantically checking the room numbers on both sides until he found the three numbers he was looking for. 107. Slowly, he pushed the door open to find you laying down on a hospital bed.

When your eyes finally fluttered open, the first thing you felt was the whole body ache that held onto your body like a vice. I’m never complaining about stomach or calf cramps again, you think, squinting to try and see anything in the harsh hospital room lighting. You groaned as you sat up, feeling the pang of pain in the small of your back. You smiled, though, when you saw all the things dotted all over your room. Vases of flowers were placed on the tables, from your vantage point you could spot the familiar petals of peonies - the flowers that symbolize life and good health. On the table next to you, lots of cards were propped up. Some had cheesy “get well soon!” messages scrawled across the front, others a bit more demure. And, as you reached to grab and read one, that’s when you saw them. The familiar pattern of blue and white polka dots left you breathless as you stopped your previous movements and began to inspect them further. These were exactly like the ones that were always in your bag, the ones that are so specifically designed that only one store sells them. You were sure that the hospital you were staying in didn’t make an effort to buy pretty looking bandages for their patients and nobody else knew where to find them in your bag. Nobody else except...

“Shouto…” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears.

“Y/N?” Standing in the door frame stood the exact boy whose name was just uttered from your lips. Dressed in a soft, black turtleneck - the one you always found so flattering on him - and a pair of beige pants. In his hand held the most beautiful red carnations you had ever seen, the petals so dainty and the stems so thin you feared they would break if he even moved them.

“Here, put them in this vase next to-” your speech was interrupted as Shouto let the bouquet fall to the tiled floor, his body moving on autopilot to encase you in his arms, his head wedging itself between your neck and head.

“You’re okay.” He mumbles.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re safe.”

“I’m safe.” Shouto lingers there for a moment before pulling himself back into a standing position, helping you reposition your body on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. The two of you stay in silence for a moment before you speak up.

“Thank you for patching me up,” you say simply, your voice soft as you tilt your head towards the polka-dotted bandages. You see Shouto’s lips quirk up a bit.

“You’re always taking care of me, so I wanted to take care of you. Even if the hospital staff had to do the heavy lifting.” He says, sitting down in the chair next to your bed, pulling it closer so that the two of you were as close as possible. Your hand immediately finds his, grabbing hold of it.

“Shouto, I-”

“Y/N, when I’m around you, I feel the skin on my face grow hot.” His statement caught you off guard. “My stomach turns, too, when you smile at me and look at me in the eye.” You suck in a breath, hoping that what he was trying to say was the same thing you had been feeling for ages. Shouto takes a deep breath before squeezing your hand. “At first I thought I was sick and caught something, due to the increase in temperature, but I realized that I only began to feel this way when you first put a blue polka-dotted bandage on my leg. And then that feeling only came around when you were near.” Finally looking up to meet your eyes, Shouto gazes at you with such care and affection you felt that you could melt. “I think… I think I love you.” Your shocked face soon softens into one of adoration and a grin spreads across your cheeks.

“I love you too.” You see Shouto breathe in relief before taking the hand he was holding and pressing a soft kiss to the back of yours. Your heart flutters at his gesture, encouraging you all the more to pull him towards you so that he could lay on the bed. Quickly, the both of you found comfort as he held you, letting his fingers trace lightly around the polka-dotted bandages. “Will you let me keep on taking care of you? Whenever you get scrapes or bruises… or if something makes you happy or sad or feel anything at all?” You murmured, letting your head fall against his chest. You feel him nodding his head.

“Only if I can take care of you, too.” You smiled, glancing back at the blue and white polka dots to see Shouto’s thumb brushing against it.

“Okay, deal.”

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sqoiler · 3 years

Text

On the Thursday of the last week of kindergarten, the DVD that Miss Martinez was going to play turns out to be scratched beyond recognition, and so she gets out construction paper, scissors, markers, and glitter glue.

“Father’s Day isn’t for a few more weeks,” she says. “But why don’t we make some cards, just like we did for Mother’s Day, okay?”

The kids all get to work, reaching for the pile of brightly-colored paper. Stephanie Brown, who will be turning six in August, is the last one to get up. She shifts through the leftover colors--black, a pukey shade of green, blue, white. She picks up the black one and takes it back to her desk. She does not want to make a stupid card for her stupid dad. The other kids at her table are enthusiastically chattering about their dads’ favorite colors and jobs and drawing crayon drawings onto the paper. The girl next to her is cutting a snowflake out with safety scissors.

Steph picks up a white crayon and stares at her blank card. Across the room, Dexter raises his hand.

“What if we don’t have a dad?” he asks. Steph remembers from Mother’s Day that Dexter has two moms.

“Make a card for someone else,” Miss Martinez suggests. “Your grandfather, maybe. Or a neighbor, or a hero.”

A hero?

Steph looks at the black card before her, and her white crayon. She smiles.

And she makes a Father’s Day card for Batman.

-----

On the Monday of the last week of first grade, Mrs. Arnold, the art teacher, sits down her class and passes out white paper.

“Father’s Day cards,” she explains. Stephanie Brown, seven in August, considers making her own father a card. She didn’t get him anything last year but he didn’t seem to notice, and she’s not really that mad at him this year. But he didn’t seem to notice, and when Steph thinks about it, she thinks Robin probably doesn’t make Batman a card. Steph could make another card for her own dad at home, and make one for Batman at school.

Mind made up, she reaches for black markers and gets to work.

-----

On the Tuesday of the last week of second grade, Stephanie Brown, almost eight years old, sits down in art class and carefully draws a black blob with pointy ears, and a red and green and yellow stick figure, next to it, and she tries to remember what Nightwing looks like, and when she can’t remember she just draws Robin again but bigger.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, she writes in red marker, and she closes the card.

------

On the Wednesday of the last week of third grade, Mrs. Arnold passes out watercolors in art class with pieces of thick paper, and tells them to make presents for their dads. Stephanie Brown, nearly nine, hasn’t seen her dad in almost four months, and she uses up almost all the black water colors at her table painting a picture of Batman.

------

On the last week of fourth grade, nobody sits down their class to have them make Father’s Day cards.

On the Thursday before Father’s Day, Crystal passes Stephanie Brown, age almost-ten, a card bought from the store and tells her that they’ll mail it to Blackgate the next morning. Happy Father’s Day, the card says. You’re the best dad ever! the card says.

Steph stares at it for a long time.

Then she tears out a piece of notebook paper and folds it in half, taking the rainbow gel pens she got in December and picking up the pink one. She squints at it and sees that it’s nearly run out, so she picks up the purple one instead.

When she’s done drawing Batman and Batgirl and Robin and Nightwing, she decides she likes purple, and she folds the notebook paper inside the card her mother gave her, and she doesn’t mail anything to Blackgate the next day.

-----

On the last day of fifth grade, Mr. Robinson turns on The Great Mouse Detective and sets out a stack of colored paper and scissors. He tells the class they can do whatever they want during the movie and even sets up chips and cookies, then he sits in the back of the classroom and maybe falls asleep. Stephanie Brown, ten-going-on-eleven, wants something to do with her hands, so she takes a black piece of paper and cuts out a batsymbol. She learned how to draw them by sticking her head out her window at night and looking at the sky, and she’s proud of her newfound skill. When she’s done cutting it out, she’s not really sure what to do besides maybe tape it to her shirt, but her dad’s been out for a week now and she thinks he’d be mad if he saw that.

Instead, she folds it in half and writes HAPPY FATHERS DAY across the middle using white-out. Skye, the girl who sits next to her, leans over and asks what she’s doing, and Steph pauses. She’s...she’s not really sure why she keeps making these. To prove a point, maybe. She’s not really sure what point, though.

“Do you think Batman ever gets cards?” she asks in a whisper.

“Yes,” Skye says. “Probably every day.”

“Oh,” Steph says. “Well, I probably won’t send it then.”

“Okay,” Skye says, and then she downs half of her dixie cup of orange juice and turns back to the movie. Steph puts purple glitter glue on her batsymbol.

------

On the first week of April, Stephanie Brown, age seventeen, pulls a plastic bin out from under her desk. There’s a cardboard box beside her, and two other cardboard boxes on her empty mattress, full and taped shut. There’s a full duffel bag of clothes next to her, and her posters from her walls have been taken down and rolled up. All she has to do is finish going through her desk, and then she’s done. The rest of her things will be sold or something, she’s not sure.

She pries off the lid of the bin before her and takes out old school binders and ragged notebooks, paper folders falling apart and ancient art projects. She lifts out a collage she probably made in seventh grade and tries to decipher the meaning behind it. There is a cutout of red heels from Kohls on top of a blue betta fish.

Steph decides it will go in the trash pile and sets it aside, lifting out a yellow plastic folder. She opens it, curious, and lifts out a black paper batsymbol. She gasps when she opens it.

Her Father’s Day cards!

Of course, she had never sent them, so she has all--she counts quickly--six of them. She looks them over, laughing at her kindergarten misspellings and looking at the evolution of her drawing ability fondly. This is--she totally forgot about this. Steph closes the folder reverently and puts it on top of her duffel bag. There’s no way she can get rid of this--especially with the purple cape still in the hidden part of her closet. Especially not with where she’s packing up to move to.

----

On the third Sunday in June, Stephanie Brown, age eighteen-in-August, takes up her yellow plastic folder from where she hid it under her new mattress, and she leaves her room, tucking it under her arm. She gets like four steps down the hall before another door opens, and already an accusing voice says, “What’s that?”

Steph whirls around.

“None of your business,” she says. Tim makes a face at her and she makes the same one back, because she is very mature. To prove her maturity, she slides down the banister on her way to the kitchen.

Dick and Cass are in there, doing the dishes. Steph watches them for a second and then says, “Why do you have dishes at this hour?” ‘This hour’, upon checking, turns out to be almost noon, but nobody wakes up early in this house.

“Breakfast for Alfred,” Cass says.

“You can do that?” Steph asks, thinking that Alfred would get offended if someone tried to cook for him.

“You can today,” Dick says, shrugging, and Steph frowns, realizes that they ganged together to make breakfast on Father’s Day for Alfred and didn’t invite her.

It was probably an accident, she reasons, but then she remembers Tim and turns to face him.

“Why didn’t you make breakfast for Alfred?”

“I was sleeping,” he says.

“He’s impossible to wake up so we called it a lost cause,” Dick says. “We have extra pancakes, though, help yourself.”

Steph is still a little affronted, but she knows that she’s the newest person in the house and she’s only staying here until her mom’s done with rehab and whatever, so they probably didn’t think she’d want to be included, even though Alfred is everyone’s grandpa, even Babs’s. She goes to pick up a pair of pancakes and bites into one, deciding syrup can wait, and she leaves before they can rope her into conversation. Besides, she’s a little scared they’ll start referring to whatever plans they have with Bruce, and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to react.

She heads to Bruce’s study and pushes open the door, glad to find him in there. She thinks if she had to search for him she’d probably lose her nerve and chicken out. Bruce glances up for like half a second and then looks back at the computer, and she takes a deep breath and steps inside fully.

Now or never, she thinks, and so she marches right up to him and slams the yellow folder on the desk.

“What’s this?” Bruce says, and Steph isn’t really sure how to explain, so she says, “It’s, uh, I found it when I was packing my stuff, and it’s...it’s from a while ago, but I thought you might, um…”

She trails off as he picks up the folder and opens it, raising an eyebrow at the contents from inside. She kinda wants to look at his face, but also totally doesn’t want to do that, so instead she looks at the desk, and opens her dumb mouth back up. “They always used to have us do Father’s Day cards at school or whatever and I never wanted to make one for Arthur so I made those instead ‘cause...well I don’t really remember why but whatever I thought you might want to see them.”

“Stephanie,” Bruce says, and she shuts up and bites her lip, looking up at him. “You...made these?”

“Yeah,” she says. He looks back down at the cards in his hands, all spread out--even the one that was intended for Arthur that Steph never sent. He touches the one from kindergarten. “Um. You can keep them.”

Bruce stands up. Steph isn’t really sure at all what he’s thinking, but he steps away from his chair and wraps his arms around her, holds her tight.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Happy Father’s Day,” she says, and when he squeezes her she closes her eyes, exhales, and squeezes him back.

(based on this post x) (ao3 here x)

#(posts fathers day fic in december)#stephanie brown #bruce wayne #brotp: slap #my writing #long post

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

A Little Braver - Chapter 12

Here we go. As promised i did not keep you waiting too long and chapter 12 has finally landed by gentle concession of Whitethorn airlines.

Be ready for angst, fluff and our Rowan in full fuss mode. I swear the man invented fussing. Also, our Iceman this time loses it. Even Fenrys is shocked by how much.

EDIt: forgot to say ATC is Air Traffic Control.

-----------

Rowan had finished his class and went back to his office. He had given those spoiled brats a very intense training and he had taught them how a real pilot flew and was quite satisfied of his level of evilness.

He sat at his desk, grabbed his phone and noticed a text from Aelin and a smile tugged at his lips.

Not even two hours back. Crash at the airport. I guess those civilian pilots are as bad as you claim.

He laughed to start with but then terror took him. He switched on the computer and tried to find some news about Orynth. He found a newspaper and read the breaking news. There was a video taken by probably some reporters on an helicopter and he almost fell sick at the images. The article mentioned two aircrafts but he could see only one. He had a bad feeling of what could have happened. The crew zoomed in and he spotted Aelin’s engines but he could not tell apart who was on the ground. Then he saw it. The collapse. A cloud of dust and fire lifted in the sky and he hoped that none of the guys were inside.

His heart raced and pure undiluted terror as he never felt, spread through him.

Once inside Aedion had to navigate through debris and remains of the collapsed structure. The dust raised by the collapse had somehow reduced the fire and he could see around him.

“Aelin,” he called out. He walked and walked and he knew he was getting further and further from the entrance.

“Aelin… answer me, damn it.” He shouted over the silence. A few electric cables flew over him and he ducked just in time to avoid electrocution.

Then he heard it. Her PASS alarm. The one that activated when it did not sense motion for a certain amount of time. He hated that sound because it meant that one of them was in danger.

Eventually he saw her body and flames too close for comfort.

“Chief, lieutenant. I have her. Have EMTs on standby.” he shouted over the radio.

“Lieutenant, Chief, we have two water lines coming in now.”

He ran to her and fell to his knees working to clear the debris from on top of her and once free he rolled her over and noticed she was not breathing and not wearing her mask which lay abandoned at her side. His finger went to her neck and found a pulse albeit weak “She is not breathing, I need the medical team inside. Now.” He shouted over the radio with panic thick in his voice.

He gave her a few rescue breaths “please… please… don’t do this to me. Please, Aelin.”

He put his mask on her face, trying to pass some oxygen to her.

Voices broke the silence but he was too busy helping Aelin to bother to look who it was.

In a moment the rest of the team had followed inside and they were putting off the remaining fire around them, allowing the medical team to do their jobs safely.

Lysandra was on her knees in an instant. Elide was at his side and Dorian was towering over them he was the one who had taken the two women inside.

“She is not breathing and her pulse is weak.” Said Aedion, his voice cracking “Help her, please.”

Lysandra did some checks with experienced efficiency.

“I need to intubate her, Aedion remove the mask when I tell you so.”

Lysandra got ready with all her gear “now.”

With the skills of someone who had done it a million times she intubated Aelin very quickly and Elide started to press the balloon to send air in her lungs and oxygen to her body. Lysandra did a quick check and noticed her right arm bore some bad burn marks. She wrapped the wound as best as she could with temporary bandages.

“Dorian, pass me the backboard.”

Within minutes Aelin was loaded on the board and carried outside. The remaining team stopped, staring at their captain unconscious.

Rowan was following the livestream of the accident when he noticed Dorian’s holding a board with someone on and on the other side a tall blonde man: Aedion. He looked a bit better and his heart sank. His eyes recognised the body on the gurney. Her blonde hair, her long braid.

All of a sudden he forgot how to breath. He just stood there watching as the gurney that carried her was lifted into the ambulance. Aedion jumped in as well and he saw Lysandra and Elide climb in the ambulance and drive away with crazy speed and sirens wailing.

He stood slowly, as in a daze, grabbed his stuff and left. He went home, packed all his belongings and drove back to the base. As quickly as possible he filed a flight plan and not long after he was in the air. He would explain everything to the school commandant but he had to go. He had to be with her.

The flight back to Orynth seemed to last forever. He swore loudly when on approach to Orynth he was told that the airspace above the city was closed. He was furious, the airbase was so far away from the airport that it was stupid.

“Orynth main, Typhoon FF9762, I am requesting clearance for landing at the airbase, not at your stupid airport. So you let me land this plane or when I ran low on fuel I will land in the middle of the motorway and then you can deal with that.”

A moment later he got clearance for landing and when his landing gear touched down on the runaway he quickly taxied inside the hangar.

When he opened the canopy, Lorcan was there waiting for him “don’t. I don’t fucking care about the school or anything else right now.” He grabbed his bag and quickly told his engineer to perform his post flight checks. It was totally against the rules but he had no time to lose.

“Elide texted me. They took her to Orynth general. It was the closest one. She says it’s bad.”

Rowan ran out of the hangar and to his car not even bothering to change out of his jump suit, threw his stuff in the back seat and drove like a madman to the hospital. Once inside the A&E he spotted some familiar faces. Her squad was all there, waiting for an update. Rowan stopped. Then his gaze crossed Aedion’s. The man walked to him and Rowan was sure he had been crying.

“How is she? Where is she?” His voice was shaky.

“We don’t know. They took her in urgently. When I found her, she was not breathing and her oxygen tank was dead. She was unconscious when we brought her in, and with some horrible burns on her right arm.”

Rowan sat down heavily on a chair, his hands shaking visibly. They had just found each other. He could not lose her.

“I thought you were in Doranelle.” Aedion’s voice was flat and his eyes fixed on the doors where they had taken Aelin.

“Aelin sent me a text saying you guys had a call at the airport.” His hand ran nervously through his short hair “then I checked the news and there was a livestream of the accident. And I saw it. All. And when I saw you and Dorian carrying her out… I left everything and flew here with my jet. Bloody ATC almost prevented me from landing.”

“This is always the worst part.” Said Aedion sitting beside Rowan “the waiting.”

The whole group remained in silence and Rowan did the same until a doctor went to them and Aedion stood, followed by Dorian.

“I have an update on the captain. Her condition is critical. She suffered serious internal injuries from the collapse and they are being treated now. Her right arm has some severe burns and again they are now being treated to avoid infection. Her oxygen levels are still below the normal parameters. During surgery she has coded twice, but we got her back. As soon as the team is done with her we will move her to the ICU. We need to keep her under strict control. She could still develop acute respiratory syndrome. She will stay intubated and heavily sedated.” Then the doctor turned to Aedion “I will let you know when you can see her.” And with that he walked away.

“Everyone, return to the station. We are still on duty.” Aedion ordered his men. They gave him a hug and asked to keep them posted. He knew that it had been very hard for them to obey him. They all wanted to be there for her but slowly they filed out leaving him alone with Rowan.

Dorian patted his shoulder “I will stay with them at the station.” And he left with the rest of the squad.

“The scene at the airport seemed terrifying.”

“It was,” said Aedion in a flat tone “the small plane got reduced to smithereens. How the fuck that happened?”

Rowan sighed, he had an idea “possibly a mistake by ATC. They probably directed the smaller aircraft on the wrong runaway and the big plane landed and just crashed on it, then lost control, probably lost its landing gear and just slammed into the hangar bay.”

“How do you know?”

“Watching the live of the news. You could see that the bigger aircraft was on a landing trajectory from its heading. Also, it was on the runaway that Orynth airport uses for landing. The smaller craft was totally in the wrong runaway.”

“Well, it was a mess.”

“Did you manage to save anyone?”

Aedion nodded “all the people in the big aircraft. As soon as we arrived Aelin told us to keep an eye on the wings for fuel. The aircraft exploded but not before we managed to evacuate the passengers. Manon and Asterin saved two of the civilians by hiding in the cockpit.” He sighed “Aelin saved four.”

Rowan chuckled “she took two of my books one on flight theory and the one on airplanes in general.”

“That is why she knew about fuel being in the wings.”

Rowan nodded with pride “Aelin and I… we are working on things. On us. I…” he lowered his head “I care about her… a lot.”

Aedion leaned back on the chair and removed his fire jacket, remaining in his t-shirt “she can be difficult and believe me there is no one but me who knows just how much. I grew up with her. She is my cousin after all, but I always loved her like a sister. But Aelin has the bad habit of saying what she thinks and we had so many fights because of that. She can be a brat, but together with Lys they are the two most important women in my life.”

Rowan smiled briefly at Aedion’s description of Aelin. It was perfect.

“I proposed to Lys.” Confessed the blonde man.

Rowan slapped him hard on the shoulder “that is an incredible news. Congratulation, man.”

“I thought it was time. Lys and I have been together for three years and I love her.”

Rowan was about to add something when they saw the doctor approach them.

“Aedion, you can see her now.” The man stood and gestured to Rowan to follow him.

“Family only.” Said the doctor when he noticed Rowan stand.

“He is coming as well, Sorscha. And if anyone has any problems, they can take it up with me.”

The woman lifted her hands in yielding gesture “She is on the sixth floor in the ICU, room 46.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you all this friendly with doctors?”

“We visit hospitals a lot.” He added sadly.

Aedion walked to the stairs and Rowan chuckled “not you too…”

“What?”

“What’s with you guys and lifts?”

Aedion laughed “you posh boy can take the metal trap. I am walking.”

Rowan huffed and followed Aedion up the stairs. He was not letting an army guy beat him. He had pride.

Rowan pushed to keep up with Aedion and by the time they reached the sixth floor his legs were killing him, the man in front of him had kept a brutal pace, probably on purpose.

In silence they reached the room and Rowan pulled aside “you go in first, you are family.”

Aedion nodded and Rowan sat down on the chairs outside the room. Thing was… he needed time. He was scared of what he would see on the other side of the door. He was terrified. She was the one with the scary job. He was the one who knew how to fly away from danger and avoid being shot out of the sky. She, on the other hand, she would willingly face a fire to save people. Getting involved with her meant going through the hell he was living now. He fought it for as long as he could. But somehow along the way he had fallen for her pretty badly. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

Much later on he felt a hand on his shoulder “you can go in now.”

Rowan turned his head to the door and his heart sank. Then he stood and mustered all the courage he had to open the door and step in.

The room was silent apart from the steady beeping sounds of the machines monitoring her heartbeat and the hush sound of the ventilator pumping air in her lungs. He froze and closed the door behind him. He stared at her immobile body. With all the cables and tubes and machinery, she seemed so small in the hospital bed.

He finally took a step closer and sat down on the chair beside her.

“Hi,” his voice broken as he felt tears streak down his cheek. Gently he brushed the tip of the fingers on her right hand and noticed the heavy bandaging on the whole arm.

“You scared the shit out of me.” He whispered, his head leaning on the bed near her hand “A part of me wants to bolt because I am not sure I can take it. But the other side tells me not to. Tells me that the recklessness, you fierceness and bravery are why I am so damn crazy about you.” He stood and paced back and forth “the idea of losing you paralyses me with fear.” He took a step backward with fear gripping his heart “I can’t do this. I am so sorry. I just can’t.”

He ran out of the door but Aedion blocked him “that was quick.”

“I can’t…”

Aedion’s face morphed into pure rage and grabbed Rowan’s jump suit by the collar “oh yes you can. I told you before, posh boy. You break her heart and I break you.”

Rowan collapsed exhausted on the chair and took his head in his hands “I can’t… I can’t go through that hell a second time.”

“What to you mean?” Asked the blonde man.

Rowan looked up and met Aedion’s eyes. So much like Aelin’s. They could have easily been twins.

“The pain…” he paused “I can’t deal with that pain again. Losing Aelin would break me definitely. And at the same time I can’t leave her for the same reason. I need her in my life. She might be infuriating but at the same time I am mad about her.”

“Then you have your answer.” Said Aedion flatly.

Rowan stood and Aedion placed his body in front of him.

“I am not bolting. I need to go home, shower, clear my head and I will be back.”

“You bolt, and I will find you.”

Rowan raised his hands and walked away in silence.

He got home, dumped his bag near the bed and shed his clothes on his way to the bathroom. Opened the water and dove under the jet, the water hot to the point of being painful. He stood there. Eyes closed and head bowed. Realising that the water would not be able to wash away the shame of him almost walking out on her like a coward. Again. He was not as brave as he thought. When it came to his feelings he was a disaster. But there was deep terror in him, to a level that he never experienced not even with a missile trained on him. He had almost lost her and at the thought he struggled to breath for a moment. He leaned against the wall and allowed the tears to flow, he allowed himself to cry and let his fears go for a moment. He could not believe that in a matter of few months she had become so important that the thought of losing her would break him this much. He breathed deeply and tried to regain some focus.

Quickly, he washed himself and then walked out with a towel around his waist and padded to the bed to grab his phone. He called the commandant of the school in Doranelle and explained him what happened, why he had to leave all of a sudden and most of all why he was not going back. The man was not happy and he was going to catch hell from Lorcan as well but he did not care. He had given up too much of his life to the force. Now it was his turn to be selfish and put his life before duty.

As expected Lorcan called him not long after and he was now on his way to see his CO in nothing but jeans, a polo shirt and a black leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses. If he had to piss off Lorcan better do it properly.

He knocked once in front of his door and the grumpy tone of the man of the other side told him to enter. He saluted lazily and definitely did not miss Lorcan’s stare of disapproval at him appearing in front of his CO in civilian clothes.

“You seem to have misplaced your uniform.”

“No sir, definitely at home in my wardrobe.”

Lorcan growled his disapproval “I got an interesting call from the commandant of the school in Doranelle. He says that you resigned your post. That you have no intention of going back.”

“That is correct,” and Rowan sat down although Lorcan did not give him permission to do so.

Lorcan threw a folder on his desk “and I got a complaint from ATC saying that you breached airspace lockdown last night and threatened to land on a motorway if they didn’t let you land.”

“That was bullshit on their part. The airbase is on the opposite side of the city compared to the airport. There was no risk for me to get anywhere close to the airport. They were aware of my flight plan and my heading. It was total bullshit.”

“Well, now I have to deal with an irate traffic control supervisor and an outraged commandant at a school with which we have been cooperating for years.”

Rowan shrugged in challenge “not my problem.”

“No Whitethorn, you are the fucking problem.”

“Then suspend me, like I give a fuck.” Rowan leaned back in the chair and stared outside ignoring Lorcan’s tantrum.

“You broke aviation rules with that stunt of yours last night and before that you put your personal life before duty.”

Rowan bolted on his feet “I am so fucking tired of sacrificing my life for duty. I did it so much that when my wife died I was on the other side of the continent and I was given a couple of days of leave to go to her funeral and then was ordered to haul ass back to my post as if nothing happened and like the good obedient soldier I was, I even thanked you all for giving me two days to mourn.” He shouted, not caring if he was being disrespectful to a superior “I gave the airforce twelve years of my life, no questions asked. And all of a sudden I am not sure if I want to keep doing it.”

“Is she really worth it? Is that woman really worth giving up on your career?”

Rowan moved dangerously close and leaned on the desk with his hands “she is worth more that you cold-hearted bastard can ever imagine.”

Lorcan stood “get your arse out of my office, captain Whitethorn. You are suspended for a month.”

“Good.” Said Rowan and walked out slamming the door not bothering saluting Lorcan or add anything.

On his way out he met his squadron “what are you doing back in Orynth?” Asked Gavriel surprised.

“Getting my arse suspended for a month apparently.”

“What the fuck?” Fenrys stared at him in disbelief. That was something that he would do. He could not believe that Lorcan had just suspended Rowan. The man was a stickler for protocol and rules to a fault.

“Broke aviation rules last night by landing during an airspace lockdown. Ticked off ATC big time. And before that I left my post in Doranelle without telling anything to anyone.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Iceman?” Asked Connall.

“Aelin.” Was his answer “she was at the disaster at the airport last night. She is in bad condition. I had to come back.” He sighed “then Lorcan gave me a dressing down for putting a woman before duty and I might have pissed him off to historical levels. I would stay clear of him today.”

“And he suspended you.”

“Yes,” confirmed Rowan and the rest of the team almost noticed relief in his eyes.

“But you are coming back, right?” Rowan noticed sadness in Gavriel’s eyes. The two had been friends for a long time. And although he could not care less about Lorcan, he felt as if he was betraying his team mates.

“I don’t know… I might.” He said not convinced “A month away might do me well. I am not sure right now.”

“How’s Aelin?” Vaughan had the guts to ask the question no one could voice.

Rowan’s hands fisted “she is in bad shape. Intubated and sedated. When Aedion found her she was not breathing. She has bad burn on her right arm and plenty of other injuries. She was buried under the collapse of the hangar after she tried to save some people trapped inside.”

“Damn, the woman is badass.” Fenrys patted Rowan’s shoulder “when you go to the hospital, tell her that we are rooting for her too.”

He covered the young man’s hand with his “will do.” Then he straightened “now I better go, before Lorcan comes through and punishes all of you just for speaking with me.”

“Keep in touch, please,” added Gavriel.

Rowan winked and left and once he finally stepped outside of the perimeter of the airbase his soul felt lighter.

He reached the hospital not long after and found her room empty, her team was probably at work and he was glad he could have some time with her.

“Hi menace,” Rowan sat down and brushed a kiss on her forehead “are you enjoying your nap?” His finger gently flicked her nose and he sat back down “I got suspended for a month… I guess I broke a few rules to be with you.” His finger brushed hers emerging from the heavy bandage “and I epically ticked off a few people, but it was so worth it.” He squeezed her fingers “you are totally worth it.” He then stood and started walking around the room making adjustments. He fixed the blinds so there was some sun in the room, he tucked her properly in bed, almost afraid she could be cold. He fixed the flowers on her nightstand and made sure they had water. And finally he sat down on her bed and slowly undid her braid, brushed her hair and braided it again.

“I am sorry I left this morning, I… was overwhelmed.” He sat back down on the chair “I am not leaving. Not unless you want me to.” He grabbed her hand again but then he heard the door open and he sat straight.

“Hi,” said Lysandra and Elide in unison.

“We just dropped off some patients and we came in to see her.”

Rowan stood and with his hand he offered his spot to the two women.

“I thought you were away.” Said Lysandra, walking close to her friend and depositing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I was, and then I saw the disaster and I flew back and got myself suspended for it, but I don’t care.”

Lysandra was about to comment but he stopped her “I had to be here for her. I have no regrets.” His head then turned to Elide “you might want to stay clear of Lorcan for a few days. I ticked him off big time and the man might be a bit furious at the time.”

“Oh, okay,” the woman said timidly.

“I am sure that one of your smile will fix the mood of that poor old bastard.” Lysandra’s comment made him laugh.

“She just went in…” Lysandra’s voice was now a whisper and she sniffled turning her back from the other two occupants “she always does this type of crazy thing. Dorian was furious.”

A memory appeared in Rowan’s mind and his words were out before he could stop them “are they involved?”

He heard the woman chuckle “No. Dorian is in love with her and that is no secret. He was her captain when she was at west. But she always saw him as nothing but a friend. Also he is the chief and she a captain, so nothing can happen. They are really good friends, but no, nothing ever happened.”

A selfish part of him relaxed.

Lysandra’s radio went off and she groaned “come on Elide, back to work.”

Rowan waved them goodbye and went back to his chair.

***

Ten days had passed and the season had slowly turned and spring was now in full force.

Rowan was standing at the hospital window, looking outside towards the Staghorn mountains. The tops had officially lost their snow. He inhaled the fresh air and closed the window again. That room had become his new home in the past ten days. He had left only to go home and get changed and washed, but apart from that he had kept a tight vigil on her. They guys at the station had to work and he had been more than happy to keep her company. He was out of a job for the time being, anyway. He turned around and walked to the bed. Nothing had changed. She was still intubated and still unconscious. The doctor had raised concerns with regards to the damage her lungs had suffered and a neurologist had confirmed that her responses were within normal parameters and that they were expecting her to wake up soon. In the last few days they had noticed an increased cerebral activity which according to the doctors was a good sign. He sat down again beside her and went back to the book he had been reading to her. As a joke between the two of them he had started reading flight manuals, or any of any of his books about flying. He had read her other books as well and all the possible articles about their amazing rescue at the airport. Rowan had spent so much time at the hospital that all the nurses knew him and helped him every time he had a request for them to make her more comfortable. He had brought more comfortable pillows, had decorated the wall of her room with all the cards she got from the different fire stations and from west, together with the ones of the four people she save in the hangar. With his mobile he had played classical music for her and a few times he had played an opera as well and joked that they finally got that date after all. His past ten days had been dedicated to nothing else but her. He was humming away a tune from the last opera he had played, while tucking her bed sheets properly when he brushed her hand and felt it move. It was a subtle movement but he felt it. Rowan kept humming and this time the motion was much clearer.

“Aelin…” her middle finger lifted by a fraction and Rowan laughed.

“Are you giving me the middle finger even when you sleep? You are such a brat.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead “Can you hear me?” He whispered near her ear.

His gaze returned to her hand and this time he noticed her clearly trying to bend her fingers.

Rowan sat down beside her and stroked her cheek once more “Aelin… it’s me.”

A tiny flutter of her eyelashes had his heart race madly in his chest. And when her blue eyes finally set on him he gave her a big smile “it was abut time, there was no need to get into a fire and almost get yourself killed if you needed a nap.”

Aelin groaned and he noticed the middle finger in her left hand rise sightly. Rowan roared in laughter. Then she lifted the same hand and went for the tube in her mouth.

“Hold on, you are still intubated. Let me go and call the doctor.” He disappeared outside of the room and came back with her doctor a moment later. He extubated her and the procedure looked very unpleasant. Aelin coughed heavily but the doctor reassured him it was normal and then left the two alone.

Rowan grabbed a glass of water on the nightstand and helped her. He lifted her a bit and pressed the glass against her lips “drink a little.”

She drank eagerly and then collapsed back on the pillow exhausted. Rowan sat at her left side and brushed her head gently with his hand “are you in pain?”

With a small movement she shook her head. Rowan looked at the bags with liquids hanging behind her and noticed they still had plenty of stuff in them. She was hooked on painkillers and antibiotics and had a feeding tube down her nose.

“You… here.” She managed with difficulty. Although she was breathing on her own the doctor had warned him that some issues might take longer to heal. The smoke and the fuel fumes had battered her lungs pretty badly and that it was why after extubation, the doctor had placed small oxygen tubes in her nose.

“That I am.” he took her hand in his “after your text complaining about civilian pilots I had a look at the news and they were showing the inferno at the airport.” He stopped, he would never forget that horrible scene “when I saw Dorian and Aedion carrying you out I realised I could not stay there any longer. Long story short, I broke a few rules, pissed off a few people and got suspended, but I am where I am meant to be.”

“Suspended?”

Rowan nodded solemnly “Turns out that even if he has a girlfriend, Lorcan is still a cold-hearted bastard. I have no regrets.”

Aelin sighed and her breath came out ragged “squad.”

“They are all fine and they miss you. Aedion has been playing captain and he hates it and Dorian has been helping a lot as well. They are on shift now but they came and visit a lot.”

She was about to say something else but a brutal cough hit her and she was left exhausted and wheezing and he pulled her to him. It destroyed him seeing her like that.

He shifted the pillows behind her and allowed Aelin to be in a semi sit position, hoping that would make breathing much easier than lying down. He sat beside her, pulled an arm around her shoulder and dragged her closer to him “Aedion proposed to Lys.”

“Know.”

“There is no pleasing you, young lady. I assume Lys has told you.”

Aelin smiled at him and nodded.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and when he removed it he realised it was Lorcan. The man had tried to phone him all morning but he had refused every single call.

Rowan sighed heavily and Aelin looked up at him with a worried expression.

“I almost resigned.” His forehead touching hers “then I didn’t because of duty and all that shit. When they carried you out I lost it. Nothing else mattered but being here for you. Screw rules and regulations.”

She turned her head and deposited a kiss on his lips “thank you for being here.” She managed with great difficulty.

***

With spring in full swing, Orynth was covered in colours from flowers all around the city. The air smelled sweet and warm.

Aelin inhaled the fresh air and after almost a month in the hospital she felt alive again. Rowan lifted her in his arms and slowly carried her to her house. Her legs were still shaky and she was still weak. Her recovery was taking longer than expected. The doctors had put her through a respiratory therapy, but at times she still felt short of breath. Rowan dropped her off on the sofa and went to get their stuff. He had made a deal with her and he would stay with her until she was better. He still had four days before his suspension was over. He had been at her side since she woke up and the nurses had told her that even when she was still unconscious, Rowan had barely left her side.

Her mind went back to when he told her he could be very caring for the people he loved and he had showed her that over and over again.

“Here we go.” He dumped all the bags in the living room and then went to the bedroom and Aelin had a feeling he was preparing so that it was up to his standards.

“The bed is ready, your highness.”

He fussed. He fussed a lot but she realised she had started to love that side of him.

“Does it meet your standards, captain?”

He grinned “I don’t think is grandiose enough.”

“I will make sure I’ll upgrade my living standards to accommodate a posh boy like yourself. I doubt an army guy will fuss. Aedion never did.”

“They have no standards to begin with.”

Aelin threw a pillow at him but Rowan ducked in time and an instant later she was in the air and he dumped her on the bed with little ceremony.

He leaned forward and kissed her “now get changed,” he ordered and threw her her bed clothes.

“Yes, sir. At your orders sir,” she mocked him with a funny salute.

He shook his head “you civilians really have no respect for rank.”

She stood on her knees in bed and shed the top she was wearing and removed her bra as well, remaining bare.

He was busy emptying her bag that when he turned and saw her semi naked he almost tripped on the dropped top.

“My girls here feel lonely,” she palmed her breasts in a very sensual way

Rowan ignored her and passed her the pyjama top “It seems like you are doing a good job at keeping them busy.”

She slapped him with her t-shirt and got dressed again “I’d better get covered again, I don’t want to traumatise you.” She was about to add something else but a fit of coughing stopped her. Rowan was at her side in a moment and held her, knowing that it would usually leave her spent. The fits had become less frequent as she improved but the occasional one was enough to leave her breathless and this one seemed to be one of those. She grabbed his arm and squeezed it “hurts,”Aelin complained fisting her hand in his chest while concentrating on breathing. Rowan grabbed the inhaler she had been prescribed to use during an attack. She did as she had been shown by the doctors and then melted in his arms.

“Lie down.”

“Open…” she started but the coughing resumed and her hand fisted in the bed sheets this time. She grabbed the inhaler and breathed its medicines again, feeling air rushing back in her lungs. Eventually she collapsed in bed exhausted “Window…” she finally finished.

Rowan moved with speed and did as told. Aelin loved the spring air and even at the hospital she often asked him for the window to be open. It made her feel as if she could breath.

He moved her to the centre of the bed and covered with the blankets “do you feel like eating something?”

“No,” she said weakly and he knew she was not well. In the short time he had known her, Aelin had never refused a meal “Sleep,” his hand brushed her hair and she was asleep within minutes.

Once he was positive she was asleep he walked out and gently closed the door and went to the kitchen to make a phone call. Lorcan had been pestering him almost every day but Rowan had ignored him.

“The dutiful captain finally decides to phone back, or should I call you nurse Whitethorn now?”

Rowan growled and almost closed the call again, then decided to count till ten and listen what he had to say.

“Say your piece Salvaterre and let me go.”

“I want you to march back through these doors in four days.”

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he leave her alone?

“A please from time to time doesn’t hurt.”

“Whitethorn, I don’t give a fuck if your firefighter woman made you a well mannered soldier. I am your superior and if I give you an order I expect you to answer with yes, sir. Another peep from you and you get your arse written up for insubordination and you can kiss your career goodbye.”

Rowan had to punch something, but a loud noise could wake up Aelin and he wanted to avoid that. So he just hung up the phone without giving Lorcan a reply then he grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. Once he was done he grabbed his laptop from his bag and set in motion his next plan.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp

@jlinez

@swankii-art-teacher

@courtofjurdan

@whimsicallyreading

@tillyrubes10

#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #aedion x lysandra #fanfic #Throne of Glass series

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when-they-write-stuff · 3 years

Text

The thing about the Hale pack was that everyone in it was absolutely, one hundred percent, drop-dead gorgeous.

And the thing about Stiles Stilinski was… well, he was Stiles Stilinski.

The last time he’d really looked into his reflection and been insecure, had been the first time he’d tried asking Lydia Martin out, and it’d been like he wasn’t even there. Stiles might as well have been invisible for the way that sharp green eyes never lingered on him and sometimes, he thought it just might be better that way. The thing about hot people was that Stiles was not one of them and because of that, he was constantly confused.

Confused about why Derek kept him around the pack, anyway.

Sure, Stiles was a mad genius when it came to doing research. There wasn’t any lore he couldn’t dig up and there wasn’t any monster he couldn’t figure out how to kill. That might be why, he thought. Why Derek hadn’t quite given him the boot yet.

The thing about being the only plain human in a pack of drop-dead werewolves was that Stiles sometimes wondered if that’s why Derek had never offered him the bite.

It wasn’t like he was calling the big grumpy werewolf biased or anything. Scott had once accused Derek of only going after the losers at Beacon Hills High and the man had been pissed off about that for days. But then Stiles had watched his friends go from sticking in the shadows to owning the halls, and he sometimes wondered why he hadn’t been offered that chance too.

Stiles was pretty sure it didn’t bother him. He just… wondered sometimes.

It might bother him a little bit.

It was a cool autumn afternoon when Stiles sat on the porch of the Hale house watching Derek train the other betas. Erica was kicking ass, which wasn’t really surprising because the woman could be absolutely feral when she wanted to. Stiles thought if he ever got into a one-on-one with her, he wouldn’t be making it out alive.

The first time he’d come over to the newly built Hale house to watch them train, his first thought had been 'badass'. Honestly, his brain hadn’t been able to come up with much more but that might be because two out of the four werewolves had been shirtless and one of them had been Derek. Which… totally wasn’t a thing.

Over time though, Stiles was a little less amazed. He’d watch Erica kick Isaac’s butt and glance down at his own hands, wondering if he could ever do that. If he was given the chance, that is.

It didn’t bother him though, remember? Not even just a little bit.

Or whatever.

The door behind him opened and closed as Lydia dropped down at his side with a glass of water in one hand. Red hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head, studying the betas and then smirking as Boyd knocked Jackson to the dirt. Chewing on his lower lip, Stiles glanced over at her.

“Hey, Lyds?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think Derek would have offered you the bite if you weren’t already… you know. A terrifying death screamer?”

The girl gave him a quizzical look and Stiles tried not to blush, ducking his head.

“Just wondering.”

He could feel green eyes still studying him, but Stiles pretended like he didn’t see. Once more, he focused on his hands, waiting for an answer. And an eternity seemed to pass before Lydia shrugged, turning her gaze back forward.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Eventually.”

Stiles swallowed. How long had it been since he’d officially started considering himself a part of the Hale pack? A handful of years, after multiple occasions of nearly dying at Derek and co's side. So how long counted as eventually? He didn’t think that long.

“Stiles?”

He glanced back over at her, forcing a grin onto his face. “I’m good.”

Lydia didn’t look convinced, but Stiles just turned his attention back toward the training. He did his best to keep his gaze off Derek and the man's unfairly well-formed everything. Because the last thing he needed was Erica to catch him staring and give him one of those knowing smirks that she was always so quick to wear. Or worse, for Derek to ever see.

Once more, Boyd knocked Jackson into the dirt and Stiles snorted, cheered up even if only for a quick moment.

He could hear the beta cursing from where he sat.

The rest of the Hale house was silent when Stiles sat on the couch hours later, his computer open on his lap and an empty bag of popcorn at his side. Isaac had done nothing but complain all afternoon that Derek had worked them way too hard earlier and when Erica had told him to can it, the beta had slunk into his room with a glum look.

But Stiles could hear snores now, so he was pretty sure Isaac had knocked right out.

The others had left an hour ago with all the cash Derek had on him, claiming they were going to pick up pizza. But they still weren’t back so Stiles had pretty much given up on that ever happening. For all he knew, they’d completely forgotten about coming back and were crashed at a pizza place somewhere enjoying the food that was meant to be for the entire pack.

He wasn’t sure where Derek had gone off too— the loft was silent other than Isaac.

Except, suddenly one of the doors opened and closed down the hall and Stiles glanced over his shoulder to see a very wet and very half-naked Derek Hale step out of the bathroom. His heart rate instantly rose and he whipped back forward, focusing hard on his computer screen again.

Stiles could hear the man's footsteps moving toward his bedroom and he cursed internally, trying to take deep breaths. He’d been looking up… what had he been looking up again? Witches. No, fairies?

Screw all the drop-dead gorgeous werewolves.

That’s what Stiles would like to say.

He found himself fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt instead of actually paying attention to whatever was on his screen. By the time the footsteps came down the hallway, he was pretty sure his heartbeat had quieted a little bit, but he still tried to focus even harder on his computer.

Derek passed him with a raised eyebrow and Stiles did his best to ignore it. Grunting, the man moved into the kitchen, shuffled around a little, and came back out with a cup of coffee. Stiles raised an eyebrow of his own at that.

“And you say I have bad caffeine habits.”

“It’s decaf.”

“Oh, wow, Sourwolf. Now that’s just boring.”

Derek flat out ignored him this time, grabbing the remote and flipping on the TV. Whatever the betas had been watching earlier came on full blast and Stiles yelped, slamming his laptop shut in surprise.

“Dude, I’m trying to do research here!”

That earned him a pair of rolled eyes and Stiles huffed, shoving himself up. Almost as quickly, Derek caught his sleeve and Stiles froze.

“Er, what?”

“Where are you going?”

“Home, dude,” Stiles said, trying to pull away. But Derek’s grip was like iron. “So I can make sure we all live to fight another week, unless you want to go in blind to whatever the hell is terrorizing Beacon Hills this time?”

The man didn’t answer for a long moment, still not letting go. And Stiles didn’t like the way those grey-green eyes searched his face, as if Derek knew exactly what Stiles wasn’t saying. Which… wasn’t anything. It totally wasn’t anything.

But then the man’s brows furrowed. “You’ve been acting strange lately.”

Stiles stiffened. Derek didn’t seem to notice, though, looking lost in thought.

“And your scent has been off.”

“O-okay,” Stiles said, trying to pull away once more. It still didn't work. “So, that’s a total invasion of my privacy, you fluffy asshole. Do you often go around checking on my scent, or is this more of a one-time thing?”

Derek gave him a red-eyed glare at that and Stiles tried to pretend like his heart didn’t skip another beat. “Is something wrong?”

“Is something— what? No, Derek, nothing's wrong. Things are just fine and dandy.”

Stiles had always thought it was unfair that werewolves could hear heartbeats because one raised eyebrow from Derek told him the man didn’t believe a word he’d just said. Grunting, Stiles looked over at where Isaac’s snores were still coming from, and then over his shoulder toward the door. Just in case.

Then, Derek finally letting go of his sleeve, Stiles crossed his arms.

“Why haven’t you ever offered me the bite?”

The alpha tensed, eyes turning guarded. And Stiles tried not to feel hurt at that, biting down on his lower lip.

“Am I not good enough, Derek?”

“Are you not… why would you even think that?”

Stiles scowled at the growled accusation in Derek’s voice. Because god, it wasn’t like he was asking this out of the blue. “You’ve never even asked, dude. Not once, not even a hint. I’ve been apart of this pack for years now and yeah, I know I’m just Stiles. Human, annoying, only-good-at-research Stiles, but I’d make a good werewolf, dammit!”

Derek’s eyes were wide now and he looked a bit taken aback. Carefully, the man stood, looking at Stiles as if he might spontaneously combust at any moment.

Which… he totally wouldn’t. No way.

It didn’t bother him.

“I’m just Stiles,” he said again, quieter this time. “I know that, but—”

“Stiles.”

Derek’s tone itself was enough to cut Stiles off midsentence. Which was a bit of a relief, because he didn’t really know where he was going with it anyway. But he still glared at the man, surprised that Derek’s expression was nothing but gentle as the man looked steadily back.

“Would you want the bite?”

And it didn’t seem like a real question. Not like Derek was offering, but maybe he was surprised. Surprised that Stiles would even bring it up, surprised that Stiles would even want to be a werewolf. Which wasn’t fair, right? It was just— he just— Stiles clenched his jaw. “Why haven’t you ever asked?”

A long moment passed before Derek answered. “You’re human, Stiles.”

“Well, no, duh.”

“You’re human,” Derek repeated. “But not as a weakness. Your mind, your soul… I’ve never offered the bite because I know you’ve never wanted it. Not because you’re annoying, not because you’re not pack—” The man hesitated, then looked at him carefully. “Because you’re Stiles and there’s nothing more beautiful than that.”

Stiles’s breaths caught in his throat. He stared at the werewolf, all words lost to him for a moment. Which was more than unusual and even Derek looked concerned for a moment. The man took a small step forward and Stiles uncrossed his arms just as quickly. “I… what?”

Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles could’ve sworn the tips of the man's ears were a little red. And he had heard everything right, hadn’t he?

“Hey, Derek, am I dreaming?”

“You’re an idiot, Stiles,” Derek said. “But you’re also the human one that holds the pack together.”

Stiles focused on Derek’s face. Then his hands, then the floor. His mind was still processing things rather slowly and when he’d asked, he’d kind of expected a gruff response. Something about Stiles sticking to what he did best— research— or maybe just dropping the topic altogether with a threat to his safety if he didn’t. He didn’t expect to glance back up and for Derek to be so close, Stiles choked on his breath.

“Do you want the bite, Stiles?”

“Well... no.”

The look Derek gave him was purely judgemental now. Stiles flushed.

“I was just wondering.”

“Hm.”

“Don’t ‘hm’ me, asshole,” Stiles said, giving the man a shove. But Derek caught his hands and Stiles was frozen all over again, heart skipping yet another beat. Looking down at him, Derek smirked, and Stiles had no doubts the man knew exactly what was going through his mind at the moment.

“I don’t keep you around just to put on a show during beta training, you know.”

And yep, that was it. Stiles had officially died and been brought back to life again. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, but no words came out. And screw all the drop-dead gorgeous werewolves, remember? He hated them. All of them.

“You’re my favorite human, Stiles,” Derek said, softer this time. And okay, maybe Stiles hated one werewolf less.

He decided that was definitely true when Derek leaned down and kissed him.

It's been decided that when my brain decides to start working again, it decides to start working overtime, so here we are! I figured you guys deserve some fluff after that last fic, so I hope you all enjoyed!

#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #teen wolf ficlet #ficlet #prompt #sterek fic #stiles stilinski x derek hale #fluff and humor

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rowyn-writes · 3 years

Text

Confidence (Jack x Reader)

Warnings: Fluff, strong language, arguing siblings

Pairings: Jack Kline x Winchester!Reader

Characters: Sam, Dean, Jack, Castiel (mentioned only,) Claire (mentioned only.)

Word Count: 2124

Summary: You start to notice that Jack tends to stay by your side whenever he can.

Requested by: @nancyangel

Part Two: Dying From a Broken Heart

You sat in your room in the bunker, casually reading on of your many books that lined your walls. You were a bookworm, much like you older brother, Sam. You liked being by yourself with your books and a cup of coffee, as cliche as it sounds.

Right now, you needed an escape from your world and into another one where you know how everything ends. Your half brothers, Sam and Dean we're currently trying to figure out a way to get their mother back from apocalypse world.

You were John's daughter, being the youngest Winchester there was. Along with being the baby of the family, your brothers were over protective of you.

Most of the time you weren't allowed out on a hunt, so you stayed in the bunker and helped with lore and things like that while Sam and Dean would do the hunting.

Lately, however, you were getting more involved, much to your brother's dismay. You loved Sam and Dean with all your heart, but they could be overbearing at times.

You closed your book when you heard a knock on your door. "It's open." You called.

Jack popped his head into the room. "Hey, Y/n. Can I come in?" He asked.

"Sure." You nodded.

Jack took a seat on the chair that sat in front of your small desk. "What's up?"

"Sam and Dean are going on a hunt and I was wondering if you were going?" This was news to you. You're had no idea that your brothers were going on a hunting trip.

You frowned as you go up off your position on the bed. "Now I am." You said, getting your bag ready. "You coming too?"

"Yes." Jack nodded. You told him to finish packing while you did the same.

"Going somewhere, gentlemen?" You asked just as Sam and Dean were about to walk out of the bunker.

Dean let his head fall as he sighed. "You're not coming."

"The hell I'm not." You snapped.

"Dean's right." Sam agreed. "You should sit this one out."

You let out a frustrated grunt. "C'mon. Why are you still treating me like I'm twelve? I'm almost 22."

"You're not ready, Y/n."

"I'm not ready?" You scoffed. "But you let Jack go, and technically, he's barely three months old."

"That's different." Dean said.

"How?! How is that different?! I grew up hunting with you guys and Dad, I know what to do!" You argued.

"It's different because you'll die if something happens! Jack has powers and can defend himself! You don't!" Dean hissed.

"This is ridiculous!" You huffed.

"Maybe next time, Y/n." Sam gave you a smile, which you didn't return. "Alright, Jack!" Sam called out. "Let's go!"

Jack appeared beside them in a second, making you jump slightly. "See you later, Y/n." Dean said. He looked like he wanted to give you a hug but decided against it, because you might knee him in the groin if you had the chance.

"You're not coming, Y/n?" Jack asked, seeming disappointed.

"Apparently not."

Jack seemed to hesitate by the door. "On second thought, I think I'll stay here. You guys don't really need my help, do you?"

Sam and Dean seemed surprised by his change of plans. Jack had been wanting to go on a hunting trip with them for a while. "I guess not." Sam said. And with that, they were gone.

"Why didn't you go with them?" You asked Jack. "You've been wanting to go on a hunting trip with them for a while, so why did you back out?"

"I thought you could use the company." He shrugged.

. .

. . .

Sam and Dean returned about two days later, clearly pleased that you and Jack had stayed at the bunker. You had thought of finding you own case, maybe even hunting with Claire, but decided against it.

But that doesn't mean you still weren't pissed at your brothers. They kept treating you like you were five, when you were 21. It was infuriating. That's why you were determined to find a case.

"Hey, so look what I found." You said, holding your computer up to your brothers. "Five people dead. All found without their hearts. However, there was six victims. One survived. If we can find out who's killing these people, we can put down the son of a bitch."

"Where's this happening at?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Little Rock, Arkansas."

Dean nodded his head. "Okay. Sammy, pack your things, Y/n, send us the address. We'll call you when you get there."

"Wait a minute." You protested. "You said that I would get to come with you on the next hunt! This is the next hunt."

"No."

"No?"

"No. You're not coming."

"Oh come on!" You yelled angrily. "You have got to be kidding me! You promised that you would take me out on the hunt!"

"I never promised." Dean reminded her. "I never make promises I can't keep. You know that."

"You're being ridiculous! C'mon Sam, back me up here." You looked over to the man, giving him pleading eyes.

"I think Y/n's right Dean." He agreed. "We've seen what she can do, handling a werewolf or two isn't anything she can't handle."

Dean frowned, looking back and forth between you and Sam. "I'm not gonna win this argument, am I?"

"Nope."

"Fine. Go pack your things. Tell Jack to do the same." You nodded, calmly walking away. But as soon as you were out of sight from Sam and Dean, you gave a tiny squeal and did a little dance.

"Are we celebrating something?" Jack asked from behind you, making you jump slightly.

You gave him a big smile. "That we are, Jack. Sam and Dean are letting us go on a hunt! So pack your bags, we leave in an hour!"

You quickly packed your bag full of clothes and other essentials and put them in the trunk of the Impala.

Jack sat in the back seat with you; it was only logical, since Sam was the Jolly Green Giant and could barely fit back there.

While you loved the Impala, you did not love the kind of music that played constantly. As Sam once put it, "It's the greatest hits of Mullet Rock." So you had brought your phone and a pair of earbuds.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked curiously.

"Listening to music."

"But Dean has music playing?" He furrowed his eyebrows, making your heart soar at his cute little scrunched up face.

"Yeah, well, Dean and I have very different tastes in music. Here, listen to this." You gave him the other earbud you had.

Jack seemed to like your selection of music, as he grinned as the song played on. After a while of driving, your legs began to cramp. Whether you were tall or short, being in the back of the Impala for a long time did nothing to help your legs.

You tried to find a position where you weren't invading Jack's bubble, as not to touch him because you didn't know how he would react.

"You can stretch out your legs." Jack said, as if reading your thoughts. "I don't mind." You gave him a grateful smile as you rested your legs in his lap.

About four hours in, you began to doze off. Car rides were always relaxing to you, seeing your surroundings blur as you sped past, feeling the Impala rock beneath you, and being able to spread out in the back seat.

Although, you couldn't count how many times you had to disinfect the back seat because of your brothers. Mostly Dean.

You were woken up rather unpleasantly by Dean. You had been leaning against the door of the Impala when he yanked the door open, causing you to tumble out of the car. "Thanks for the awesome wake-up call, dick." You growled.

"No problem, fuck-face." He grinned as he helped you up. You grabbed your stuff and checked into your motel room.

It was like every other motel you've ever stayed at, rock hard beds, ugly wall patterns, and a small box T.V.

You went ahead and changed into your FBI clothes, a light blue button down shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans, matching boots and a blazer. "You boys ready?" You asked, exiting the bathroom to see all of them had changed into their uniforms.

You all piled into the Impala once more and headed to the local police station, and then to the hospital.

. .

. . .

You had found out nothing. There was no victimology, no connection, nothing. You figured there wouldn't be a pattern, it was a werewolf, after all.

You did know, however, that the werewolf was a Purebred, as the moon cycle didn't line up with the victims deaths.

And the surviving victim was a fifteen year old girl. Thankfully, she hadn't been bitten. But she was in so much shock that she couldn't remember her attackers face.

"Poor girl." You commented, shrugging off your blazer. "She's never going to be the same."

"She'll learn to cope." Dean assured you. "Okay, so Jack and I are gonna go to where the bodies were found and dig around a little, you and Sam stay here and see what you can find out about this town. See if there's any kind of pattern with the killings."

"Actually, could I stay here with Y/n and help her?" Jack asked.

Dean looked taken aback slightly. "Uh, yeah, sure kid. Sammy, let's go." Once the two brothers were in the car, Dean looked over at Sam. "Jack has a crush on Y/n." He frowned.

Sam snorted. "Okay? And you couldn't tell that before? I kinda thought it was obvious."

Dean cuffed Sam. "Alright, Captain Jack-ass. I was just saying maybe we shouldn't leave Y/n and Jack alone."

"Oh, please." Sam scoffed. "Nothing's gonna happen."

You got out your laptop and sat on one of the beds. You noticed that Jack was watching you from the couch. It was obvious be wanted to say something.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Yes, Y/n?" He looked excited to see that you engaged in a conversation with him first.

"How come you wanted to stay behind with me?"

"Oh, did you want me to go with Dean?" Jack seemed disappointed.

"No, no. That's not it!" You assured him quickly. He looked extremely relieved to hear that. "I was just curious. On the last hunt that Sam and Dean went on, you decided to stay behind with me too. And whenever I go out to grab food or something, you always come with me. I love your company, so please don't take that the wrong way. I was just wondering."

Jack thought over your words for a few moments before answering. "I don't really feel confident around anyone. Sometimes I feel like another burden onto Sam, Dean and Cas. But with you, I feel like I'm not judged."

"You're not judged by any of us, Jack. You know that." You frowned.

"I know that, I just can't help but feel that way sometimes. But things are different with you. I feel confident and safe, like I can be myself whenever you're around. I enjoy being around you, Y/n."

You felt your heart melt at Jack's words. You felt exactly the same way about him. While growing up, you never really had boyfriends, just a one night stand here and there (which your brothers definitely didn't know about.)

"Jack." You started. "Do you see me the same way you see Sam and Dean?"

"No. It feels different. I can't really explain it. It's like. . . When I'm with you, I can feel my heart start to beat faster, and my palms get kind of sweaty. I don't do that when I'm around Sam and Dean." He explained.

You smiled as you realized what he was saying. "Jack, I think that means you have a crush on me."

"Crush you?!" Jack looked startled. "I would never hurt you!"

"No, no, no! That's not what I meant." You sighed as you tried to break it down to him. "It means you really like someone, but not as a friend. Kind of like a boyfriend or girlfriend."

Realization dawned on Jack as he soaked in your words. "Then can I be your boyfriend?" He asked eagerly.

You gave a small laugh. "Yeah, you can." You kissed him on the cheek. Jack's face became pink under your gaze.

"Could I kiss your lips?" You didn't answer as your lips brushed over his.

"Does that answer your question?" He nodded happily as a smile formed on his face. He felt happy and safe with you standing in front of him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I was thinking about making a part two? Tell me what you think!

#dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #castiel imagine #gabriel imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #jack kline x winchester!reader

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wh0re-4-techno · 3 years

Text

4. CLASSMATES ((PROFESSOR TECHNO))

Description: Leaving the library Tommy, Toby, and Wilbur get food and all head to your dorm, introducing them to Minx.

Words: 2545

Last part :: Next part

You sigh once again at the three of them. You were stuck on the few last slides of your PowerPoint project.

Running your hands through your hair in frustration, "This makes no fucken sense!" You whisper yell at them. You wanted to punch that computer screen so badly at this point. "Chill Y/n, we'll get through this." Wilbur says while giving you a look. He was also pissed off about the last few slides.

Tommy then spoke, "Why don't you ask the teacher? Like, ask him for advice about the last slide." You look at him, confused about who he was talking to. But then he eyed you like he was waiting for your reply.

"Me?" You question him. "Yes, you." He huffed out, both Toby and Wilbur wait for your response, looking at each other. "Well, why me? Why can't you ask him?" You ask, pointing at all the boys. Why were they asking you, out of all the people here, why you?

It's not like you didn't want to go back to him and talk to him. Hear his voice, hear him whisper in your ear again...

The moment quickly took a holt by one of the guy's voices. "Why are you getting defensive?" Wilbur plays with a curly strand of his hair. A questionable look on his face while he asked. You let out a sigh. "I'm not getting defensive! I'll do it!" You quickly quiet yourself down before you could get everyone's attention in the library.

The boys just look at each other, it was strange to see you get all flustered up and defensive. Wondering why you were in the first place. But just thought you were going through one of those "girl moments".

Toby broke the silence that was becoming more and more present and awkward. "Do you guys wanna go eat somewhere?" He gave a sympathetic smile to the group. "How bout you guys come to my dorm, it's not far from here. And we can eat there?" You ask, thinking it might diffuse the tension between the four of y'all.

"Could we get fast food on the way there?" Toby asks again. "Yes, Toby. We can get food. Let go." Wilbur sounded slightly annoyed at Toby for keep asking, but shacking it off with a smile to the boy. Wilbur starts to grab his laptop and paper, shoving them in his bookbag.

We all followed Wilbur's actions and put all our materials in our bags.

-----

Pulling out your keys, you could hear the boys behind you go through the bags. "You better not be eating anyone of my fry's!" You sound pissed off at them, but in reality, you weren't. They quickly pull their hands out of the fast food bags.

You unlock the door, opening it for the group. You let them step in first

Watching as the boys walk into your room, Tommy and Toby jump on your bed, Wilbur was about to get up on Minx's bed, "That's my roommates! Off off. She'll be pissed if she found out some boy was on her bed." You snapped at him, he quickly puts his hands up in defense. He mouths 'sorry' as he sits down on the floor.

They start to unpack the food from the bag, Tommy unwrapping his burger quickly. You all just sit in silence, watching him go to town with that burger.

Tommy stopped, looking at the group. He tried to say something but the food in his mouth was blocking him to do so. "Don't talk with your mouth full." Wilbur says, finally he took his burger and started to eat. You did the same. "Why were you guys staring at me?" His mouth was still full of food, but less so you could hear him. "You're disgusting." Toby said while taking a sip of his drink.

The four of you start and finish eating the meals, you pass your fry's to Wilbur as you couldn't finish them by yourself.

After so, you all just start talking about life, some school, some other things that popped into your mind. You where really starting to connect with them. Glad you made some friends with your new classmates.

Wilbur pulls out his phone, it was constantly buzzing off. Curious, you ask "Who are you texting?" He looks up at you. "Oh, just my girlfriend." He plays it off cool, but Tommy decided to make it a big deal, "Ooh he has a girlfriend!" He flares his hands up. Wilbur just rolls his eyes at Tommy, which he started to laugh at.

"What about you Tommy? Got a special someone?" You ask wiggling your eyebrows. He laughs again, "No, I have a lot of women attracted to me right now. I can't just choose one and make others sad." He says in a more serious tone, full of himself. "You're so full of shit." Toby tells him, causing you to burst out laughing as you haven't heard Toby curse throughout the day. It was like hearing alien speaking english, it was quite werid. But none the less it was funny. "What?" Tommy looked around, "You don't think all these women are into me?" You all laugh at Tommy, "Hell no." Wilbur tries to say while still giggly.

Tommy rolls his eyes at the three of you, wanting to change the subject he questions Toby. "Okay, how bout you, Toby?" You all look at him, "Not really... Not looking for anyone right now." He confesses to you. You give him a reassuring smile that you were in the same place, without saying so.

"You know, you find the right one when you're not looking," Wilbur speaks, looking away from his phone and back to the group. You turn towards him,

"You sound like a cheesy rom-com." He scoffs at your comment, dropping his head down.

He looks right at you, "Just wait Y/n, you'll meet someone then you'll understand." Well, what if you had met that person already?

"Are you seeing anyone Y/n?" Toby asks what the other guys where also thinking. Not because they were into you, but just curious, just like you were. "Again, I'm not, But-" you were mid-sentence when Minx bursts through the door.

Confused at first, two guys were sitting in your bed while you sat on the ground with another random guy.

She looks at you, you had completed forgotten to text her about this. Mentally you gave palm yourself.

You stand up, "I forgot to tell you, but these are my partners for my group project." You gave her an awkward smile, as you felt bad for not telling her a head up before. She looks over the boys once again. "It's okay. Nice to meet you all." She gives the guys a wave with a bright smile.

Wilbur looks at Tommy and Toby, "We actually got to be going. It was great to come to hang out with you Y/n!" Wilbur stands as the two others get off of your bed. They all walk towards you, Wilbur gives you a handshake, fitting. Tommy high fives you and Toby gives you a light hug, also fitting. You reopen the door for them.

As Tommy walks out you hear him say, "Don't forget to ask the Professor for help!" He pleads with you, which Wilbur and Toby do the same. You simply roll your eyes following with a nod. They walk off in a group.

You close the door, finally just you and Minx.

You check your phone, it was alright 12 pm. Your next class was at '3:15 pm' so you had time in your hands to relax, but no. You had to help your group out and talk to the Professor. Why was it always you doing all the extra work to get a good grade?

Minx was already on her bed when you jumped on yours, taking a deep breath. It smelled like a fast food place, it was going to smell like this for days now, great.

"So, you're going to talk to your teacher later huh?" She shimmies her shoulders while raising her eyebrows. You let got a grunt while falling back into your pillow, "Oh my gosh..." Your voice said it all, you were clearly annoyed with this whole situation and Minx knew loud and clear but was that going to stop her from teasing you about. Hell no. "Don't be shy about it Y/n. Why are you going to talk to him?" You turn your head, giving her a deadpan stare. Which she giggles at. "I have to talk about this stupid ass slide project. That's it!" You turn your head back, you stare up at the ceiling once again.

She hums, "Is that all?" She was acting so full of herself. "You know I never say this shit when you go talk to one of your Professors!" You throw your hands up in the air, they fall beside you. "Okay okay okay. I'll stop." She leans against the wall, you silently thank her for stopping.

-----

After saying goodbye to Minx you walk back to the Westside campus, lucky your next class was on the West-South side of campus and wasn't far from where you're headed.

You make your way back up the the stairs, reaching his office doors.

Knocking on the wooden door waiting for a response. "Can I come in?" You ask looking up at the door admiring how well it looked. The door swiftly opens, shocking you.

He stood there, his tie loose and shirt unbutton from the top three.

His eyes shifted down to where you stood, curiosity filled his mind. You shyly look away from him, "Whatcha need?" He leaned into the doorframe, arms crossed. Your eyes widened, looking down to stop from staring at him. The comment adding more to your shyness towards him.

You slowly but surely look back up to your Professor. His eyes are fixated on you, waiting for him to connect with you. Which happens a moment later, it was becoming harder to focus on what you need to do.

"I need help on the last few slides on the project." You scratch your next, slightly embarrassed by asking. "I did say I could always help you." He lifts himself from the doorframe. "You also said you were the smartest person in this building. So could you help me please?" You practically beg him, giving him your most innocent eyes you could, which took an effort on him rather quickly.

He slid to the side, letting you walk in.

His office was still in the same mess as it was the first time you came in here a week ago. His sword still leaning against the bookshelf.

While walking in you tell him what part the group was stuck on. You sit down in the chair while he walks behind his desk, looking for something. You didn't know what he was exactly looking for but you didn't seem to mind waiting for him.

While waiting you look at his desk, surprisingly it was cleaner than last time. The papers were gone, the multiple books, and the teacup. The only things on his desk at the moment was his computer, a small can full of pens and pencils, and one book. It looked like the same one he was reading while you where here.

Then he pulled it out, a rather large book. His hands softly glided over the leather cover. Somewhat in awe of it.

"Here." He slid I to you over the desk, "What is this?" You looked up at him, confused. "A book." The quick smile that flashed on his face, so smug. You bite your inner lip, trying your hardest not to roll your eyes at him. "I get that, but why are you giving me this book?" You look back down at the book, easily it was sober 900 pages long, a pain in the ass if you ask yourself.

He stares down at you for a second, thinking of what he was going to say. "Read a few pages and then you get the answers for the project." He simply said, he sat down on his chair, it looked way more comfortable than the chair you sat in. But so was his lap in your opinion.

"I was thinking you could just tell me?" You blink at him, it was clear that you just wanted the answers but he had to make life a tad bit more difficult for you.

"Nope, you can read what you need in this book." Great now you had to go to the next class then read this book and figure out the last bit of information for this project and possibly do other homework for other classes. Your night was showing to be a shit show. But then he continued, "And I can help you along the way while reading." He was to let you read right now? You chuckled nervously.

You let out a small sigh, "I have a class in less than 20 minutes, Sir-" Cutting you off, "Call me Techno, none of that Sir business." He placed his hands together on his lap, it felt as he didn't mind interrupt you mid-sentence or correcting you. "And I can write you a pass for your next class. Nothing to worry about darling."

Once again with the darling, making you catch your breath.

He seemed to like it wasn't such a big thing to do as he pulled out a pad of paper, quickly writing something on it.

He handed you the piece of paper while he slid the pad of paper back into his desk drawer. It read: "Miss Y/n will be missing class for family issues." It was signed off by him at the bottom. You stare down at it for another moment. "Why a family issue?" You ask it seemed like not the first thing to ask about this situation but it was the first thing that popped in your head. "It's more believable. Now let get started with reading." He clapped his hands, you still had many questions, but it didn't seem possible to ask at this point.

While you flip through the pages he told you to read, he also reads. The same book that was on his desk. The both of you sat in silence, it wasn't awkward like it was with the guys. It was comfortable, soothing almost. It was sweet to have a silent moment with him, you wanted more of this.

Often you would glance up to see him so fixated on his book, like you weren't there. But as you think, he turns his head to look at you. He seemed a tad bit surprised that you where already looking at him. But as soon as your eyes would connect you would turn back to the book, slightly embarrassed. A hint of red flashing your cheeks. He smiles to himself. He also had a little blush as well.

#mcyt #mcyt fic #mcyt fanfiction #technoblade #technoblade x reader #techno #techno x reader #professor technoblade x reader #professor #x reader

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lokis-little-kitten · 3 years

Text

Teaching Assistant 2

Title: Teaching Assistant Writer: Lokis-Little-Kitten Pairing: LokixReader Rating: Mid Warning: spankings, mentioning of masturbation, ED, college, teacherxstudent Summary: You get a job as a teaching assistant for you professor Loki Laufeyson. Quickly the relationship takes a turn when Loki offers to teach you the robes of BDSM.

‘’Print Goddamit,’’ you scream at your small printer when it refuses to deliver you your story. You had gotten up in time to print those damn papers but nothing… It was on and everything.

Angrily you slap your Laptop closed and put it in your bag. Another class awaits you in a moment. You pack up your things and leave for your class. A nervous tingle is in your stomach. This will be the first day that you’re the official teaching assistant from Professor Laufeyson!

‘’There is my bitch,’’ Dimitri calls out when he sees you on campus. ‘’I can’t believe you managed that girl.’’ He pulls you into a tight hug while congratulating you. ‘’Thanks,’’ you shyly reply.

Then the interrogation starts. Dimitri asks you a thousand questions about yesterday. He buys you your coffee and then you leave for class.

Meanwhile in professor Laufeysons office. He walks in and turns the lights on. He runs a hand through his glorious hair before striding to his office. The professor gets everything ready for the day when he suddenly notices his printer. A stack of papers hangs out of it and some lay on the ground.

He sighs deeply and starts to gather it. My Pleasure. Y/N Y/L/N. He frowns deeply. Why would you randomly send this to him? Probably he just needs to read and correct it, it wouldn't be the first time a student wants him to read their work. Sending it ten times, however, is a little overdone.

He takes a map and places one version of it. Afterwards, he bins the leftover papers since they are unnecessary now. Loki starts to prepare for his first lecture then pushing the story to the back of his head. He’ll read it when he has time.

The day passes quickly full of lectures and students asking all kinds of questions. He gets quite some papers turned in that are to be graded before he can return to his office. When he arrives you are waiting on the bench for him.

‘’Punctual are we,’’ Loki sighs unlocking his office, ‘’I didn’t expect you for another ten minutes?’’ He gives you a look as he lets you in. ‘’My professor let me go earlier, professor…’’ He nods a little and closes the door behind himself.

Loki takes out the papers he received and lays them out. ‘’These need grading. The only thing I expect you to do is grammar and spelling check. I want you to be stern and merciless, think you can do that?’’ Quickly you nod as he hands you a few papers with a red sharpie. ‘’Yes professor…’’ You lay it down on his desk and start the job immediately.

The grading takes a long time but that’s fine. You learn a lot from it. After a few hours, Loki puts away his marker again. ‘’Could you please go get me a black coffee?’’ he hands you five pounds while still reading.

‘’Yes… Of course!’’ You take the five pounds and grab your jacket. ‘’Go get yourself one as well.’’ You look a bit surprised when he says that and not. ‘’You drink latte’s, don’t you,’’ Loki frowns while thinking, ‘’get yourself one of those.’’ ‘’Thank you.’’

Quickly you get to the cafe close by to get the coffee’s that one cost one pound fifty so you have two pounds left to return to him. When you return you notice the new stack of papers in need of grading and hold back a sigh. This is your life from now on…

The next days go the same until it is finally weekend! Glorious weekend! Loki has been the same cold, stern and rude professor to you the whole week and you can’t wait to take a well-deserved break!

You spent your weekend, writing, working on Saturday, drinking coffee and watching movies. Your quite a domestic person. You like being at home without anyone else but you love the occasional party as well.

Loki lives further from Campus. You are still in the dormitory but have a room for you alone now and made it your own. It is a bit of a maze because of the closets, bed and other things but it is yours.

You again try to print some of your stories but again your printer refuses to spit out the papers. You mumble something rude and then decide to leave it alone. You’ll print at Dimitri’s later or in the library.

Back at Loki his office he just came to bring some graded papers and get some other things. He walks in and lays the stab of essays down when he notices his printer is on and loads of papers are printed once again. He gets the papers quickly before pulling the plug from the damn thing.

Again you… He should have a word with you that you shouldn’t abuse his printer like this. He gets the map in which he placed the other stories you sent him. He takes those home too, he might as well read them then.

When he gets home to his flat on the top floor of a large building he sits down on a chair near the window while looking out over his beloved city. He starts to read the stories with a flaming red Sharpie in hand to point out all of your mistakes.

Soon, however, it becomes clear that this is not what he expected it to be, at all… The more he reads the deeper the frown on his forehead gets. What were you thinking? He needs to have a good talk with you Monday…

Back home you are seated on your four-poster bed watching a show before bed when you get a text from the professor.

Professor Laufeyson.

We need to talk. It’s important. I have already informed your teachers you won’t be coming to class. I require you to be at my office at 9 AM, you better be there on time!

Y/N Y/L/N Yes Professor. I hope it is nothing too serious?

Professor Laufeyson. I’m afraid it is Miss Y/L/N. I will see you tomorrow.

Nerves are tangled in your stomach. You have been awake almost the whole night. You worried about the situation you got yourself in. What happened, what did you do? You feel like a small child again, kicked out of yet another family for no reason…

You are now seated on the bench next to his office unable to keep your mind straight. Hot tears burn in your eyes from pure fear of the professor…

When he finally turns around the corner he doesn’t even acknowledge you. No look, nod or ‘good morning’ he just walks past you and opens his door. He eventually does call you in and tells you to take a seat.

When you sit down you feel scared and small, even more now you are in the presence of Professor Laufeyson… He looks at you sternly for a second before opening his bag and pulling out papers. You frown a bit. What is that?

‘’Do you understand that it is highly disrespectful to send your professor such rubbish? If you weren’t my teaching assistant and liked you I would step to the dean right away.’’ You look at the raven-haired man with large eyes. Whatever is he talking about?

‘’I’m so sorry professor but I don’t know what this is about,’’ you carefully chime in. He slaps the papers on his desk. ‘’So you didn’t write this rubbish?’’ ‘’Write what?’’ ‘’You really do not know what this is about?’’ He stands up and walks around his desk to the side where he leans on it again.

‘’His hands tangle in hers when his large dick thrusts into her. She screams out while he simply groans. Legs are tangled while Jonny thrust into her womanhood with great force.’’ Tears start to gather in your eyes.

The stories were printed out here that's why your computer kept saying it was printed but your actual printer didn’t do a thing… That means he read it. Your secret is out and you will be expelled for it! How did this happen to you?

‘’Jenny her hands tangle into the ropes Jonny tied her up with.’’ He sighs deeply and walks towards the fireplace. He is now behind you while tears start to stream down your cheeks. This can only happen to you…

You can feel Loki his presence right behind you. He throws the papers in front of you. They are full of red marks. Oh no… He actually read it? You expected that he would have stopped after he found out what it really was…

‘’I’m so sorry. I tried to print them at home. They were never supposed to get to you, professor. I swear it is just a misunderstanding!’’ He lets out a sarcastic laugh. ‘’It better is! It is clear you never even met a treu dom… You clearly don’t know what you are doing or what that community really is.’’

Suddenly his large hand crawls up to your neck. ‘’But don’t worry, little girl,’’ he speaks in a now softer tone, ‘’I’m willing to teach you everything you need to know. If you agree to it of course.’’ You swallow unable to say a thing.

What is he proposing? For you to become… To become his sub? What does that even really mean? He is right after all, you don’t have an ounce of experience.

‘’I…’’ You don’t know how to reply. Do you want this? Do you want this with him? You have to admit you had the occasional fantasy about him in the bedroom but that won’t be a reality. Maybe you want to find out what that reality is?

‘’Tell me, little one, are you going with my offer?’’ ‘’Yes.’’ He leans in further until his lips are right next to your ear. ‘’Good. Rule number one then, always address me with Master, understood?’’ You take a deep breath before replying.

‘’Yes, master.’’ ‘’Good girl.’’

Permanent Taglist @sherlocksuperfan666 @ms-marveleous @straya4lifemate@ lexiiiii28 @ thegoddessnyx02 @marvelfangirllll @gingers-writing king-stony@mr-hiddlestons-pet@ dark-night-sky-99@metalheadspider @fuckthatfeeling @ god-save-loki @ devilbat @mariekoukie6661 @darkprincessloki92 @ gravitational-anomaly @ welpsher @ umi4724

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#loki #lokixreader #lokilaufeyson #lokiofasgard #lokiodinson #student x teacher #teacherxstudent #lokixstudent #lokixreader smut #lokifanfic #lokitheseries

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sgtbradfords · 3 years

Note

"Sorry, were you sleeping ?" with Chenford ?

Love your writing

Thank you for the prompt anon, I hope you enjoy! :)

Tim Bradford’s Thursday shift had been one of the longest he had experienced in a while. Not that it was a hectic night, especially for a Thursday but it all started after he had dismissed his officers on the nightshift to hit the streets.

“Hey Sarge, got a second?” Officer Amelia Hatch asked as she walked to the front of the room, the room clearing out as everyone went their own way. “That kid from that domestic the other night, can I contact the school, see if she will talk to me or maybe the guidance counselor?”

Tim sighed, “It wouldn’t be a bad idea, the kid doesn’t need to be bottling that shit up.”

“I think she would have talked to me the other night, but the mother pulled her away before I could ask any questions.”

Tim took a second to think before giving her advice, his lips forming a thin line, “Swing by the elementary school near their address tomorrow after shift, see if that’s where she attends and go from there. But Hatch, don’t blame yourself if she has no intentions of talking now.”

“Understood Sir.” The officer told him before walking away.

Tim had a pile of paperwork in the metal basket on his corner of his desk that grows by the minute that he knew he needed to get a start on, but being a man of few habits, he had gotten in the habit of visiting booking just after the start of the shift.

“Evening Luke, any regulars in yet?” He asked the intake officer who was typing away at the computer behind the counter.

“Not yet Bradford. But there is a full moon and a bad batch of drugs going around.” The officer spoke, never looking up.

Being the nightshift Sergeant of the Mid-Wilshire prescient of the LAPD, Tim had gotten to know his fair share of regulars, the junkies, druggies, and the few prostitutes that frequented one of the three holding cells.

“Great.” He mumbled under his breath. When you work in law enforcement, you always keep track of the moon cycle, the brighter and full phased the moon was, the crazier everyone got. Though it is not a proven fact, it is just a well-known fact that you learn comes with the job. “Let’s get those in, processed out soon, the quicker the better.”

“Wreck on I-10, van’s stuck in traffic. According to radio traffic they should be here within the next thirty or so minutes.”

Tim was about to thank the officer for keeping him updated when a loud disturbance stopped him, the door of the garage flying open.

“I didn’t do shit, you motherfucker!” yelled the man that was being escorted through the door.

The Sergeant moved closer to assist, the man fighting the two officers every step of the way.

“Harper, you good?” Tim asked, grabbing onto the other man’s upper arm.

“Fine. Found this one defacing the side of the church on Harrison Avenue, drunker than a skunk.” She told him as she secured him to the bench.

“You bitch, I told you I had to piss! You can’t prove nothin’.”

Nyla rolled her eyes. “There’s footage on the camera in the alley and on my vest.”

“You fuckin’ lyin bitch.”

“Enough.” Tim glared. “Get him booked, then throw him in the drunk tank to sober up.”

Nyla nodded as Tim walked away, heading back to his office.

He sat down behind his desk, keeping an ear open on the scanner that sat in the corner of the bookshelf in his office. He picked up the reports, reading them one by one as he began sorting through the pile in the basket, checking, filling, and signing the reports filled out by his officers. The report in his hand was particularly captivating when the shaky voice of Officer Hunt came over the radio.

‘7-Adam-22. Shots fired at my location. Suspect gave chase but is now in custody. Roll back-up and EMS.’

Tim stood, grabbing the keys for his shop out of the top drawer of his desk. The rest of the evening was spent documenting the crime scene and making reports before he headed to the hospital, checking on the suspect and now patient, the man getting stitched after cutting his leg while hopping over a fence. Tim made it back to the station thirty minutes after his shift was intended to end, preforming the daily maintenance on the shop before he made his way inside, heading for the office of the day shift’s Sergeant, Wade Grey. He brought the other man up to speed, filling him in on what occurred overnight, by the time he was done updating his fellow superior it was well past eight in the morning and Tim was dead on his feet.

Tim hastily went to the locker room, changing out of his uniform and back into his normal clothes before heading out of the department. He was lucky that he only lived twenty-three minutes away (on a good day) from the department and for a Friday morning, his commute was harmless besides the lingering effects of the morning rush hour traffic.

He pulled the vehicle in, parking his truck in the drive, reaching over for his duffle bag from the passenger seat before he exited the extended cab. He pulled the ring of keys from his front right pocket, unlocking the wooden door as he made his way inside, disabling the alarm system before reengaging the security system as he kicked off his shoes. The silence of the house had always been strangely comforting, the quietness enveloping him as his sock clad feet padded through the dark bedroom, heading for the bathroom. He tiredly stripped of the clothes, throwing them into the hamper before he walked back out into the bedroom, blindly grabbing a pair of black boxer briefs from the top drawer of the dresser, sliding them on before he pulled the covers back and falling into bed.

He stretched out, laying on his stomach, an arm under the pillow and one over his head, sleep claiming him within minutes of his head hitting the pillow, the comfort of the memory foam mattress with the coolness of the multitude of pillows creating the perfect combination.

The dream he was having was one he wanted to stay in forever, the scene his dreaming brain had concocted was perfect, the sunset hitting the woman in front of him, casting her in the hues it was projecting.

“Lucy, I-“

Lucy smiled as she stepped forward, moving towards him. “It’s perfect.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She grinned, staring at him the sounds of the ocean before them began fading into the background as she leaned in, the buzzing in his ears growing louder.

“What the hell?” he mumbled in his dream as the image began to dissipate.

The buzzing of his phone bringing his sleep addled brain back to reality. There were only four people that could get past his do not disturb settings, and out of the four of them he could immediately eliminate two.

“Hello.” He grumbled into the phone, sitting up as he let out a yawn.

“Tim! You are not going to believe this. Wait- shit.“ she said as the sound of shuffling came through the receiver. “Sorry, were you sleeping?”

“No I wasn- actually yeah, I was.”

He could picture Lucy grimacing on the other end. “Shit. I’m so sorry, I forgot that you worked last night, and that tonight is your night off. I got my days mixed up. I’m just- I’ll just hang up now.”

“Lucy.” He sighed, laying back onto his pillows. “What did you need?”

“It’s not important, I can just tell you tonight wh-“

“Luce, I’m awake now, might as well tell me.”

“Are you sure?” she hesitated as he grunted on the other end. “Ok, so remember me telling you about that high-speed chase we had the other day on I-10? The whole thing is about to get weirder…”

Tim grunted, listening as she continued in her story, her voice becoming softer and softer the longer she spoke and before he knew it, he had fallen back asleep, lulled by the sound of her voice.

“Tim? Babe?” she asked, smiling when she heard the even breaths and soft snore coming from the other end. She ended the call, placing her phone back into her pocket as she made a mental note to make it up to him when she seen him after shift tonight.

Working on two separate shifts and trying to maintain a relationship was difficult, sometimes they would call the other, forgetting that they were likely asleep. Other times, one of them would stay awake for the other, long after their shift had ended, just to catch up. Tim and Lucy have always been a different couple but when all the pieces fall into place, it makes the perfect puzzle.

#the rookie fic #tim bradford x lucy chen #chenford fanfic #chenford fic #chenford #fanfic

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burningcowboyhoagietaco · 3 years

Text

A Way to Learn a Lesson

written by:

@burningcowboyhoagietaco

illustrated and edited by the amazing, the one and only:

@lenle-g

Before I publish the story id like to thank @lenle-g from the bottom of my heart for being patient with me, being nice to me the whole time, and for making my story even better and more exciting. Without her I would have stayed in my normal, not that good English story. so thank you for everything!!! <3<3

And here's my part at @tagminibang submission:)

☆☆☆☆☆

Scott, no!!! No way! I am not going to give any lectures to anyone." John's voice comes out tight. "Especially not in front of a crowd. No way."

"Why not?" Scott raises a brow, his voice honeyed with ‘big brother wants something’. "It's not like you're gonna get executed by some children just for talking space at them, right? You love talking about space. It's all I've heard since you were, like, seven."

"No, that's not it." There's a sharp shake of the ginger’s head, "Scott, come on!" John knows for a fact that his oldest brother knows he's the most socially awkward person to have ever lived on Tracy Island (and maybe the entire planet). "You’ve lived with me long enough to know how much I hate social.... anything." John complains. "Why would you ever think I'd want to do this?""

"Well, yes, I know that," Scott shrugs, "I've seen that look you get on your face when there's a lot of people around." He’s well aware that his brother is an introvert who hates socializing with anyone, so he quickly changes the subject to try and make his younger brother feel a little more at ease. "But hey... everyone knows how much you like it when anyone talks about space or anything about astronomy. You'd be amazing at it."

"That's a different thing." John says flatly. Flattery, it seems, wont get Scott very far. "It's like, whenever you guys ask me anything about space, I like to answer them for you, but from random people…? And in huge crowds? I just simply can't." Surely he doesn’t have to explain himself much more than that?

"Oh trust me, everything is going to be fine." Scott was a flippant hand around, talking without really thinking, because all he wants is for his brother to get out of Thunderbird 5, to visit Earth for a little bit, to mingle with people a little. It can't be that bad. "If anything happens, Gordon and Alan'll be in Thunderbird Five doing Space Monitor duty, me and Virgil are gonna keep an eye on everything, and you’re in safe hands with Lady Penelope and Parker. It's all set up, so please go have some fun for once and teach the children something cool."

"My answer is still no." John says persistently, without hesitation. He's pretty sure it'd be worse than being in the middle of a hurricane, or testing one of his Grandma's new cooking experiments. It’s lucky Scott misses his involuntary shudder.

Scott, though, is so done with him at this point, that he's pretty sure there's no choice but to use plan b and hope that that works instead on his unwilling, stubborn, red haired brother. They've got to get him down from orbit and to that lecture somehow. Scott's just not going to stand for anything else.

"Are you sure that's your last answer?" Scott asks, with a heavy sigh, already planning the best way to call in the big guns.

"Yes," John scowls, arms folded. "Yes, it is."

They'll see about that.

...

"Is everything ready?" John adjusts his sleeves, smoothing down his vest and putting the last touches on his collar. Neat, simple, formal. Can't go wrong. "My presentation papers, laptop, and my mini simple dimple?”

"Yes, all in the bag." Scott calls back, rapidly checking everything, "But do you really need that little fidget thing of yours?" He picks his younger brother's old toy up between forefinger and thumb to examine it, remembering the day John made their Mom buy it for when he gets stressed.

"What fidge- oh, yes I need it." The look on John's face leaves no doubt about that. "I've used it ever since Mom bought it for me."

"Hey… Mom would've been proud of you, you know?” Scott tells him, in a quick flash of brotherly pride. “For, you know, going out of your safe zone for a little while and teaching the children and all that."

"Yeah, I know…" John finds him a nervous smile, "But I'm not doing this voluntarily, you've forced me with that plan b of yours."

The second John says that Scott's cheeks dimple, the corners of his eyes crinkle, and he grins victoriously, his teeth a bright white in the earliest rays of morning sun.

“All I had to do was make a call." He shrugs, "Lady Penelope did all the talking and somehow convinced you to go." Scott got a little more excited. He took a couple of steps forward, slightly standing on his toes reaching John's level asking"How did she convince you?" Clearly waiting teasingly for an answer to come out of John's lips

"Huhhhh." John exhales loudly, a little despairing. "She promised me we'd go to the Pagasa Astronomical Observatory after I finish the lecture with the children." He shrugs, keeping his eyes down, embarrassed.

"The what now?" Scott stares at him, thoroughly confused.

"The Pagasa Astronomical Observatory in the Philippines.” John says, like that was obvious, “It's equipped with a 45-cm computer-based telescope. It's so powerful that astronomers and astronomy enthusiasts can now conduct effective observations of stellar bodies and other distant space objects! Scott, it’s been my dream to go since I was, like, 17."

Scott always knew how much of an astrophile his younger brother is; he never cared about his physical appearance, nor his poor eating habits and he always used to make excuses to read his books alone, yet no one has ever interfered in his personal life.

"Okay okay space lover boy,” Scott grins at him. He'd expected Penny to be persuasive, but resigning herself to hours stuck with John in full excited-about-space mode would hardly be in his top ten. Either he's gonna owe her one, or Penny's more resilient than him. “You can go, no one is holding you back."

The short silence between them was broken by a ringing sound from a nearby table, which John answers.

“...Mhm, yes? Oh, the lecture." It must be Penelope calling, "Yeah, I'm ready, I'll head out now." John grabs his bag, wandering toward where the FAB1 must already be idling on the Tracy runway. "Time to go."

"Mhm,” Scott makes an agreeable noise, watching him go. “Please stay safe and please don't make an idiot of yourself." He's teasing… mostly.

"Yeah yeah," John waves at him over his shoulder, not even looking back. "I won't."

…

"Are we there yet?" Despite the consistently amazing views out of FAB1’s windows during the flight, John’s found himself mostly looking down, fidgeting with his fingers. He’s worrying, just a little, about what awaits him in the Philippines - a whole different tropical island to his own, though still in the South of the Pacific Ocean.

"Just give Parker ten more minutes, darling,” Her Ladyship smiles at him, “We'll arrive in no time."

There’s a moment of silence before, unexpectedly, it’s broken by a call flashing up from, of all places, Thunderbird Five. There’s a prickly sense of discomfort as John realises that, of course, it’s not him calling. Gordon must be trying to reach them.

"Heeeeey Lady Penelope,” The kid greets, as Penny flicks it on, seemingly a lot less bothered by the change than he is. “Oh, and Mr. Tracy.” There’s a huge smirk on his face. “How's our newest teacher holding up?"

"Firstly, my name is John.” John points out, flatly, “Second, I'm not your teacher so please don’t call me Mr. Tracy ever again. Thirdly…” He concedes, quirking an eyebrow, “Yeah, I'm good for now, but fourth… How are you holding up, up there in my Thunderbird? She’s not much like Four, is she?"

"Ooooooooo that's a good question,” Gordon looks half like he’s considering it, half like he’s really missing his own ‘bird. “I'm holding up pretty well thanks to Alan. He’s taken all the Monitor duty stuff, so all I gotta do is keep an eye on you guys." He sounds a bit… sarcastic about that. “It’s pretty boring, honestly. How do you survive up here without a pool?”

"Young Master Gordon, are you quite done talking?" Parker glances, unimpressed, at the little floating hologram of John’s brother in his rearview mirror, "Because we're about to arrive at our destination."

"Huh… oh yeah,” Gordon doesn’t seem too bothered about that, but he waves merrily at them all the same, “Okay bye and John, please have fun, you too Lady Penelope, okay bye guys."

It’s only a few moments later that Parker opens his mouth to tell them that they’ve arrived at Chino Roque Theater, pulling up out front to let them both climb out.

John's eyes widen: it’s nothing like what he saw on the internet. It was more enormous, more luminous, more spectacular than anything he’d seen or read online. All he remembers reading is that it's a sphere shaped building located in the Philippines, in Anilao Hill, but the pictures on the webpage didn’t do it justice like being there in person does.

The building was smooth and round; the auditorium shaped like a massive egg nestled in amongst the other buildings. They were early enough that the sun was just cresting the horizon, colouring the sky with reds and oranges, visible through the geometric front of the building - where giant triangles of glass intersect together to give the people inside an amazing view of the sky at night.

"M'lady, you and John can go ahead. I'll park FAB 1." Parker said, before going to the parking lot - unaware just how tiring and long his journey to find a place to park is going to be.

They both head inside the building, admiring the sweeping glass fractals of the roof high above them. It’s incredibly beautiful, really a feat of engineering. So much so, that John almost forgets why he’s even there, until he spots a couple of buses arriving on the other side of the building, and the panic sets in. He was expecting to be a little bit anxious, but this feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. He presses a hand hard against it, trying to calm his racing pulse and stop the sudden shake of his fingers, and Penny must notice, because a little hand settles, ever so lightly, on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her.

"Hey John," Lady Penelope looks him steadily in the eye, projecting warmth and reassurance. "They're just a small, mixed group of children and teens. They can’t possibly hurt you, now can they? They just came to have a small lecture because all of them like space and astronomy just like you. Imagine yourself at their age, meeting a real life astronaut.” John tries very hard not to remind her who, exactly, his Father was, as she goes on - trying to visualise being a kid that didn’t get ‘take your son to work days’ at NASA’. It’s a pretty horrifying concept. “Most importantly,” Penny adds, “it's only for an hour or so, so you don't need to worry so much." She had to smile just to reassure him. “You’ll have filled their heads with space facts and be out before you know it.”

"O-okay,” John takes a deep, steadying breath, “I don't know if I'm supposed to trust you on this, or whatever, but I really don't have any other choice." He also wants to add that they forced him to go, but at the last second he remembers that they never forced him - he agreed to go because Lady Penelope promised him a trip to the observatory.

It seems like a pretty weak reason, now that he’s outside the stage door, knees shaking.

"Mhm, I think it's time to go inside.” She nudges him callously in the right direction, and John’s palms meeting the solid metal of the double doors is the only thing that keeps him from following gravity’s call and landing on his face. “Again, if anything happens, I'll be at the back of the room and I have a plan b if things get too much." John, pretty shocked by just how many plan b's the Lady Penelope might have prepared for the day, can only shake his head, bemused. “So stop worrying and get out there!”

She vanishes off into the atrium, and John can’t help the loud exhale that escapes his mouth before he musters up all the courage he can, and enters the room.

Bright lights startle him for a moment, and he’s pretty sure he does an awful, awkward impression of a blind baby giraffe as he stumbles out onto the stage and freezes as he notices the first smatterings of audience are already taking their seats.

The moment he placed his foot on the smooth wooden floor, his heart had started to beat faster, his hands began to sweat, the more steps he took forward the more he felt anxious. It was, he’ll think later, one of the toughest moments of his life, and he’s been to space. Multiple times.

Come on John. He tries to straighten up, shake off his anxiety, This can’t go worse than your first EVA.

Taking another deep breath, John waits patiently for all the attendees to take a seat inside the room. Waiting doesn’t help his anxiety levels at all, and he can feel them increasing by the second, but, determined, John doesn’t let it stop him from starting his lecture.

"H-Hello everybody,” He starts, incredibly conscious of the hushed silence that falls across his audience. “I'm John Tracy, M.Sci, PgDip, B.Lang Hons,” he rattles off his credentials, his nerves almost blurring them together, “I worked with NASA as an astronaut for three years before going… uh… solo in my astronomical studies, and I'll be your guest lecturer for the day.” He swallows around the lump in his throat, as a ripple of hushed oohhhs and ahhhs goes through the crowd. John’s pretty sure his face has gone bright red. “Thank you for having me at the Chino Roque Theater,” He goes on, before his embarrassment can bet the better of him, “I hope everyone’s had an amazing day so far. We'll be spending the next hour or so talking about astronomy and space physics, so shall we get started?" John thought it was a good opening, and yet his back was really wet from all the people's eyes on him. Glancing offstage, Penelope throws him a thumbs up, and he feels a little better.

"Um,” He blinks. “So does anyone here know how old the universe is?" John ventures, only to be surprised as almost everyone answers at once;

"Almost 13.8 billion years!"

"Yes,” The edge of a smile works its way onto John’s face. Clearly this was going to be a shout out the answer kind of lecture. He can work with that. “That's correct, now does anyone know how the universe started?"

"The Big Bang!" Most of them answer, and John feels a surge of relief. These guys really are into space.

"Okay, okay, not bad at all." He nods affirmatively at them, and the screen behind him lights up with an artist’s rendition of the Big Bang happening. "Now if I were to go and search ‘how old is the universe’ in, say, Google, the answer would be 13,772 billion years. It’d be the same thing if we looked at NASA, or even Wikipedia - so how did people get to know the age of the universe? How do you even start calculating something that old? Well I'm going to explain it for you in two ways: the good, nice way, and the kinda not that good and not that scientific way." There’s a bit of an awkward pause as John wonders whether or not he’s explained that well. When only silence greets him, he very quickly realises he needs to press on.

"So, uh, the good way.” He folds his fingers together behind his back, trying to resist the urge to fidget. “Well, in the middle of the previous century, as telescopes developed, we noticed something strange. We found that stars in very distant galaxies tend to look red… Umm, which is something that’s not supposed to happen.” A chuckle escapes John and, to his relief, the audience laughs with him. Scott never gets his space jokes. “So why’s that?” He asks, “See, if a chemical element gains or loses energy it’ll emit light in certain frequencies, thereby creating certain colors.” A small movement of his hand signals the slide to change, and a picture of the visible section of the electromagnetic spectrum appears, colouring the room with rainbow light. “For example,” John goes on, bathed in blue and violet, “Consider something like… a desk lamp, as like an element. If you give a lamp electrical energy, it’ll release that energy in the form of heat and light, yeah?" There’s a murmur of uncertain understanding in the room. “Electricity goes in, the bulb gets hot, and it gives off light. Well, we know stars do pretty much the same thing - only powered by nuclear fusion rather than a nine volt plug.”

"From studies of the sun and stars that are near Earth, we know that they’re made of helium and hydrogen, yes?” There’s another murmur of agreement in John’s crowd, “Well, hydrogen and helium can create red light, but they don't have the ability to create these shades of red that we see in deep space." The slide behind John clicks to a comparison of the two shades, on two different stars - making the difference clear.

"So, if stars are made of helium and hydrogen then why do distant stars have different colours? Are their compositions different?uh, well It’s possible, but not likely. The strongest explanation is that the color difference is due to the movement of the stars." The room gives a soft gasp at this news, and John knows he’s onto something good.

"So there's something called the redshift and blueshift phenomenon that says that if an object radiates light and approaches you, the color of the light begins to turn blue, and if the object is moving away from you, the color will turn red. This happens because the wavelength of light contracts and expands with movement meaning that something stretching equals red and contraction equals blue."

"And the strange thing is,” John adds, his audience listening raptly, “That most, if not all, stars show the same behavior, so, if we think about it, if all stars are moving away from us, that means that they were close to us at some point, and if we follow their path, we find that everything in space meets at a point named ‘singularity’."

"It was believed, in the past, that everything in the universe, or at least in the visible part that we have observed, that is to say,” John flicks to a graphic on his next slide. “All the galaxies, planets and stars, were all gathered at one point - the singularity. The theory is that this point exploded in what we call the ‘Big Bang’, and from that time onward, the universe has been in constant expansion.”

"So it’s with data from this knowledge that we can calculate the age of the universe:” With a wave of his hand, John puts a series of bullet points up on the screen behind him, then reads them aloud.

“One, the universe began as a very small, single point.” He reaffirms, “Two, the universe is constantly expanding outward from that point, and three, from these we have the ability to calculate the expansion rate of the universe, by calculating the speed of the stars that are moving away from us. If we take the furthest accelerations and enter them into this equation,” John’s board merrily does it’s thing behind him, “Then, we get the age of the universe."

"And, so we don't forget, all this talking was about the good way. There is another way to calculate the age of the universe, the, uh, not as good way, or, more specifically, the less scientific way.” A ripple of laughter goes through John’s audience - and he relaxes a little more. Maybe Scott was right. Maybe these are his kind of people. Scott’s never laughed at a space joke for sure. “There's no problem with it,” He quietens them again with a gentle gesture, “and it does support our theory and calculations, so I guess we should talk about it."

"Since ancient times, humans have been looking at the sky, watching the stars, and giving them names like Cygnus, Canis Major, Orion.” All names any young astronomer in the Southern Hemisphere would recognise, and be able to enthusiastically point out in the night sky. “In those days, there wasn't the internet so they were looking up at the stars instead.” Much like John himself, when he’d been a boy.

“As a way of calculating the age of the universe, astronomers set out to search for the oldest celestial bodies in space.” He goes on to explain, “The idea was that if we find a star whose age equals X, then the age of the universe must be greater than the number X. So we pointed our telescopes up there and started trying to find out their ages from birth, to youth, to their old age until their end."

"Can anyone guess the age of the oldest star we've found?" A lot of answers were guessed, some of them were pretty close, but some, amusingly, were way too far. "Ok, ok…” John puts his hands up to pacify his excited crowd, “Umm I see there are a lot of answers, but the oldest star people discovered was actually estimated to be 13.5 billion years old. The HD-140283, or as you might know it, the Methuselah Star. That number is very close, you’ll notice, to our estimation of the age of the universe."

"But if we found a star that is 13.5 billion years old today, then we could find an even older star next week and that would ruin all of that,” He chuckles, mostly to himself, “We also should note that this method alone isn't suitable for determining the universe’s age, but as long as we have two methods with corroborative results, we can be reassured that the estimate is correct.” He pauses for a second, “So, does anyone have questions?" A couple of hands raised, and John found himself suddenly answering a lot of questions - but he managed all of them despite his fear of the huge crowd.

He’s starting to feel more than a little overwhelmed.

"Umm… W-well that was a lot of questions,” John tries to pull it back in, his allotted lecture time ticking away on the big clock at the back of the hall. He feels a little panicky from the bombardment, and his palms have gone sweaty. “We’d better move on.” To distract himself from the people, as much as anything, “Our next topic is the theory of relativity, so l-let's get started on that."

Lady Penelope, from her fold-out seat at the back of the room, frowns. It’s clear John’s terrified and she wants to use plan b, but as long as he’s still standing on his feet, and giving the lecture, he's probably fine for now. If anything, it’d cause more of a disruption to drag him away now.

"Umm,” John takes a breath, trying to centre himself in the science of it all. “Let's start with a supposition, a hypothesis if you like, and consider it together. Okay, you’ll have to bear with me on this one, but let us suppose that we were all asleep, and the universe suddenly inflated by a thousand times.” There’s a murmur in the crowd at how odd everything abruptly getting that much bigger sounds, “Your bed, your pillow, your desk,” John extrapolates, “even the meter we measure stuff with. If humans became a thousand times bigger, when we woke up would we feel something strange? Would we even notice anything had changed? You’d think so, but no.” John’s settling back into his rhythm now, “So why is that? Because the bed and everything became a thousand times more inflated and our bodies also inflated a thousand times, with everything scaling in parallel relation to each other so that this percentage, this scale, was preserved throughout the room. You’d never know the difference."

"Henri Poincaré, the well known mathematician and theoretical physicist, says that we will never be able to discover that something like this has happened, even if we use all the mathematics and calculations ever invented.” John drives the point home with another illustrated slide, “This hypothesis is called the Poincaré hypothesis, and simply, because the meter with which we measure things will have also expanded a thousand times, there’s never going to be any equation or calculation or any analysis possible that could lead us to the truth, because the ratio is preserved in all parts."

"Now, this is important, because the same thing also happens with time. If everything suddenly got a thousand times faster, we’d still never feel anything different. Why’s that?” He asks, rhetorically, “Because time is also a thousand times faster, your heartbeat is also a thousand times faster, your body would function a thousand times faster to keep up with it all. As long as everything is increased by the same amount, the ratio is preserved, and none of us will be able to detect any change."

"So Poincaré asked the scientific community; is there no way to know that time increased or that things inflated?" John tells the room, "Well, it was Albert Einstein who answered him, deciding that the one and only way to tell, would be to have someone observing what happened to the world from another galaxy, from another world, lightyears away. For someone to point a telescope in our direction, and look through it at us, and say what happened to the Earth? Why are humans walking a thousand times faster than in the past? But this person who realized the situation,” The astronaut waves a flippant hand, starting to feel much more confident again, “would have to be a person standing on a fixed external platform in a different world, so that what happened to us was not also happening to him."

"But, as Einstein commented, this hypothesis is impossible for a simple reason and it's that there is no fixed platform in the universe - the entirety of it is in constant, turbulent motion. For example, the Earth rotates at a speed of 460 meters per second, revolving around the sun at 30 kilometers per second, and at the same time, the sun and it’s planets and dwarf planets and moons and asteroids, all revolve around our galaxy, The Milky Way, at a speed of 300 kilometres per second, and so the whole universe revolves. That's,” John takes a deep breath, finding himself out of air after so much explaining, “why it's impossible for us humans to completely accurately judge the motion of any astral body."

"Because there is no fixed berth, we can only offer relativity. This is the first part of the theory that Einstein came up with, in summary; it cannot be said that the monotony of a body is absolute motion."

"Another thing he said was that, because of the vastness of the universe, it’s impossible to synchronize, what does that mean? Well, I will give you an example.” He flicks his slide, “Say I’m a person in the Philippines, and I'm talking to someone from the United States. We synchronize, and hear each other in real time, because we have a method of fast communication. I can hold my device and say; hello, how are you?” John holds up the slim, sliver slice of his phone to show the audience, “How’s the weather there? And they’d answer me with something like; I’m fine thank you, it's night here so it’s a bit hard to tell what the weather’s doing! What’s the weather like there? And I’d answer them; it's daytime, and maybe ask them something like, what are you eating? They’d answer me; a burger, and then I’d tell them that I'm eating kaldereta, and it’s much better than a burger."

In the audience Penny quietly hopes that Gordon, who's probably listening in with the rest of his brother’s, missed the fact John was making jokes on stage. The poor little bugger’ll never live it down otherwise.

"These two events, each person talking to the other, are compatible.” John goes on, absolutely oblivious, “It’s possible because the two wireless devices, be they mobile phones or more sophisticated comms systems, are on the same globe, creating a fast means of communication.”

"But,” John postulates, “If I was talking to someone from another galaxy and I used the same means of communication to make a call, do you know how long it would take to get to them? It would be about five to six thousand years until my signal reaches the phone of our friend, and they’ll have married, had children and died, and their children would have married and had children and died, and so on, for thousands of years before then."

"And that's why it's impossible to synchronize between the ends of the universe,” John balances his palms like he’s weighing two invisible ends, “It rather puts a damper on our chances of finding and communicating with extraterrestrial life, for sure, but at least it’s possible to synchronize within one system, like the system of the Earth. "

"This is a thing that also applies to light, for example: any star you could look up and see now, the light emanating from it may be coming from thousands of years ago. This means that it’s possible that the star you see shining could have exploded and disappeared, and hasn't existed for a long time. Why? Because it takes a couple of thousand years for the light from that explosion to reach us."

"There isn’t any proof for the hypothesis that the universe is linked by time, but the thing that happens that we’re sure of is that the universe is made up of, sort of, separate islands of different times that have no connection between them. The connection between movement and time in space is something we all know about, for example, a day on Earth equals twenty-four hours, yes?” There’s a chorus of agreement from the audience, “But on Saturn, a day is ten hours because it rotates faster. Astonishingly, a day on Mercury is the same as fifty-eight whole Earth days, which, infact, is also a Mercurian year, because the planet revolves around the sun for the exact same period as it revolves around itself."

"Okay, so, to what extent is movement related to time?” John asks, well and truly into this whole teaching thing now, “Well, Einstein was the first person to discover the connection between them and suggested that; suppose you’re on board a very fast rocket, 100,000 miles per hour for example. The mechanical watch on your wrist would be delayed over the flight, but you wouldn’t feel like time is being delayed. Why’s that? It’s because the rhythm of your heart would slow down - all of the vital processes in your body that are inside the rocket will slow down."

"As you move more, something called the dilation of time will happen.” He steps to the side, as if to illustrate the point, only to find himself stumbling a little, like if the ground beneath his feet had moved. “T-Time slows down,” John tries to recover it smoothly, but everything’s starting to feel, weirdly, like it’s shaking, and he doesn’t think it’s the anxiety anymore, “and that's-"

John doesn’t get to finish his sentence because there’s an abrupt shift and a loud cracking from under him, and getting off the stage suddenly seems like a good idea. Someone screams outside, and the volume in the room skyrockets as the children start panicking. John’s one hundred percent sure this wasn't anything planned.

He knew he shouldn't have come.

Earthquake? He wonders first, then; Tsunami? Ground slip? Hurricane? Whichever it is, John has to prioritise calming the people and evacuating them out of the building. The giant glass panels above them are trembling with the force of the shaking, and, as a professional at this sort of thing, Thunderbird Five’s Space Monitor doesn’t like the look of it one bit.

"Everyone calm down,” He has to shout to make himself heard over the roar of people, even with the microphones pointed his way, “This is a normal thing. All we have to do is evacuate immediately, as calmly. as. possible. I don't want anyone crowding the exits, do you all understand what I just said?" The front rows, white faced with fear, nod encouragingly at him, and he watches as they begin to lead the way toward the glowing green signs that signal the emergency exits. Immediately after making sure the crowd is moving, John pulls up his comm to contact Gordon.

"Gordon, are you on the line?” John’s a little breathless and he climbs down from the precarious stage, into the throng of terrified bodies, “We have a situation in here."

"Let me guess, you caused it?" Gordon seems so excited to hear something other than his brother's boring lecture that humour has outweighed his professionalism.

"Gordon,” John grits his teeth, “I'm being serious right now, there was a huge movement in the ground beneath the Chino Roque Theater, and it's still ongoing. Tell Alan to do a check on what's happening beneath us using the Ground Penetrating Radar." He orders.

"F.A.B." Comes the far more serious response, before Gordon clicks off the line to do just that. Squashing down any fear he’d about the now swelling, shuffling crowd, John opens his arms wide and walks toward them, the motion sort of like he’s trying to herd sheep, as he tries to evacuate the people safely out of the building.

He’s not exactly an expert at being on the scene during rescues.

"John, there's a landslide going on right now,” Alan’s worried little voice comes ringing out of his comm speakers, “Right next to the theatre. You’d better get out of there. I’m monitoring the situation, but it’s looking like you’re going to need International Rescue to get you and the people out of there. The debris field is spreading fast." John would do almost anything to be up there instead, at his own screens. “I've contacted Virgil and Scott, I’m patching them through now.” Alan clicks Scott and Virgil, both clearly just finishing their suit up sequences, into the conversation. It seems important to keep them up to date with John's developing situation.

"Hey Mr. Tracy, how are you holding up?" Scott jokes over the roar of his launching Thunderbird, the sound filling the background of the call with white-noise, "Oh, and how was your lecture?" John thinks he sounds far too casual in contrast to the impending danger all around him.

"Oh my God, Scott, is now really the time?” John groans, and a kid with mousey blond hair not dissimilar to Alan’s looks up at him, very confused, before the astronaut waves him on, “You are an adult person,” He reminds his big brother, “Please don't be like Gordon right now. He’s practically still a child."

"Hey!” Gordon had clearly overheard the conversation between his brothers, and springs up to defend himself. “I'm only two or three years younger than you!" He complains, not about to do the math.

"Gordon, we don't have time for arguing about that now,” John frowns, “and Scott, I'm holding up alright at the moment. Please don't ask me anything about the lecture until I get back home." If his voice cracks a little on that last bit, he’ll never admit it.

"Okay, okay I won't ask anything about that,” Scott reassures him, his amused, big brother grin very much in place, “Keep on evacuating the people safely until we arrive John, you’re doing great. It won’t take us that long. ETA at 15,000 mph is sixteen minutes.” He reassures, “We’ll be there before you know it."

"F.A.B. Scott." He reluctantly signs off. Now that he’s finished talking with Scott, John’s pleased to see that a lot of people have already made their way out of the atrium’s three sets of double doors, evacuating the building to get as far away from the landslide as possible. His fingers itch to pull up the schematics from Thunderbird Five on his comm, no matter what the people around him might think. He quickly caves, and it feels worth it to be able to see the incoming tide of slipping land.

They don’t have much time.

“Let’s go!” He shouts, chivvying. He’s a little breathless with the tension, so he keeps things short. “Come on! Let’s move guys!”

From his vantage near the crumbling stage, John can make out Lady Penelope and Parker by the main doors, ushering people through, and the sight of them fills him instantly with immense relief.

“Okay, that's a good amount of people out.” John has to jog to catch up with them, skirting around a little old lady with a zimmer frame and taking a second to correct her course, “Lady Penelope, Parker, I think you should go and check on the people who’re out. They could have minor injuries from the stampede, and International Rescue are still ten minutes out. I'll make sure the last few stragglers exit safely."

Penelope just nods, pale and worried. Her blond brows are all pinched in together, nervous and Parker looks practically haggard as he claps a reassuring hand on John’s shoulder, her faithful old companion following her pink shape dutifully out the doors. Hopefully they’ll go make sure that no one was badly injured in any way.

Turning back to the slow cascade of cracking rubble behind him, John finds the stage area has been all but obliterated, and his heart aches for the patrons of the Chino Roque Theater who’ll have to rebuild from scratch when this is over. He imagines the Tracy fund can contribute a significant amount toward that though. They often do for worthy causes.

John pushes the damp curl of his slightly sweaty bangs out of his eyes and climbs over what looks like a twisted piece of ceiling girder toward the sound of people, possibly trapped stragglers, who are calling for help.

"I miss Thunderbird 5 so much,” John mutters, keeping it under his breath so that no one hears him, as his palms are scraped raw against the concrete he’s trying to clamber around. There’s a rippp of fabric on a jagged piece of metal and the knee of his previous pristine brown jeans meets much the same fate as his poor, scuffed hands. “Oh, come on!” He’s having no luck today, “I'd so rather be assisting the situation from space. I can’t believe I’m stuck here." John grumbles, to no one in particular. He’s just not built for this kind of thing. Heavy labour and getting sweaty pulling people out of scrap heaps is what his other brothers do. At least rescues in space don’t have all this… gravity to contend with.

"John?” The crackle of a comm cut’s across his complaints, “What’re you still doing in there?” Gordon’s voice breaks him from his thoughts, little brother’s tone heavy with concern. “The building could fall any moment! You're so lucky the landslide isn't moving very fast, but it’s not gonna stay that way forever." Gordon was really worried about the fact that his older brother was still inside. “It could engulf the building! You need to hurry it up, bro.”

"I'm evacuating the people as fast as I can,” John gets both hands under the armpits of a boy who couldn’t be older than seven, and swings him above a pile of rubble toward safety, “I'll be out in no ti- Ah!"

John’s voice gets cut off with a startled cry, and it takes Gordon a second or two, time John might not have, to remember how to breathe so that he can yell in any way coherently into his comm. His eyes are wide, his anxiety levels through the roof as he tries, and fails, to rouse his brother on the other end.

"SCOTT! You need to get there now.” Gordon’s aware that he’s totally losing his cool, panic creeping in over his weak layer of professionalism, “I just lost contact with John.” He gasps, “He was evacuating people and I heard him yell and now he’s not responding! And- and it's not just him. There were other people he was trying to get out."

"Hey Gordon,” Scott tries to keep his voice steady to inject some kind of stability into the conversation, “Don't lose your cool yet. I'm sure nothing that bad happened to John. Just stay your positive self, okay? I’m arriving right now and Virgil isn’t far behind me."

Thunderbird One is panning over the city, low enough to ruffle the hair of people looking up, but it’s not a problem until the usually so sure and steady pilot finds his hands nearly slipping off her controls as Scott catches his first, horrific glimpse of the building that he knows his younger brother is inside.

“What the…?”

The Chino Roque Theater is almost flat.

"Virgil,” Scott swallows hard to try and remove any of the tremor from his voice, “A-Are you seeing what I'm seeing right now?" He almost succeeds.

"Scott this isn't a joke, it looks like half of the building has come down with the landslide! John’s in there!" Virgil sounds more terrified than Scott thinks he’s ever heard him. What scares him the most is that the exit was on the side that has fallen in, which means that a lot of people are trapped under it, their John included. "Scott, we need to help them right now.

"Okay, here's the plan,” Scott’s hands tighten white-knuckled on the steering yoke, “You wear your exo-suit and go clear the debris out of the way so that we can save them, and I'll get rid of that roof with Thunderbird One and check for life signs. Remember that saving lives is our top priority, got it? No matter what’s happened to John."

"F.A.B." Virgil sounds incredibly tense. He lands Thunderbird Two as fast as he can in the crowded, limited space. Local people are beginning to make their way out of their houses to see what all the commotion is about, and the cramped city streets aren’t ideal for International Rescue’s four hundred and six ton workhorse.

Two’s pilot struggles into his exo-suit, rushing to get the Jaws of Life prepared despite Scott’s insistence that he focus and take things slow and sensible. It’s not long until he finds himself digging among the debris looking for buried people and, in the white rush of it all, Virgil’s not even sure how he got there.

"Scott,” he presses on his comm, “Please tell me you’ve got something?"

"Fortunately and thankfully yes,” It’s hard to find the hopefulness in big brother’s clipped Mobile Control voice, but it’s there to Virgil’s expert ear, drizzled in nervous relief. “I've got a whole cluster of life signs,” Scott reports, “BPM signalling in the green. "I think they’re just trapped under the debris." Alan’s echolocation report came back suggesting that there’s a big space under what could be folded sheet metal from the ceiling, that they’ve huddled in. I'm really sure there's nothing that bad, but still we have to continue otherwise it will take a bad turn for us and the people in there."

“I can use the grappling cables in Thunderbird One to take the strain off the roof,” Scott adds, “But I need you in there to get those people out.”

“Already on my way,” Virgil ducks under some rebar, skirting around the rubble and pulling away loose debris as he goes. His heart is loud in his own ears, and Virgil hopes the creak and groan of metal and concrete above him is Scott lifting the weight off the roof, keeping it from collapsing any further onto the people below, and not anything more sinister. Virgil gets peppered by a slide of small stones, but the roof holds steady.

He presses on until he catches sight of the cluster of around forty people, all huddled together around a tall, central figure with a shocking amount of rubble dust smeared over his face, and powdered through his ginger hair.

“John!” Two’s pilot makes a beeline for his brother, despite the fact three of the people are stuck under rubble. Clearly John’s in control of the situation here, and he’s never wanted a mission update from their Space Monitor so much in his life. He can’t help but hone in on the fact John's left arm is crudely wrapped in a piece of cloth from his sleeve, which he must’ve ripped off in order to tie it.

"You have to tell me exactly what happened,” Virgil drops the controls for the Jaws of Life, and grasps his brother’s biceps in both hands instead, resisting the very strong temptation to pull the spaceman in for a hug. “And what happened to your arm?!?" There’s a river of blood seeping from beneath the make-shift bandage, but John, it seems, isn’t bothered by it in the slightest.

"Not now Virgil.” His concerns get thoroughly dismissed, “We’ve got to get these people out of here, and then I'll tell you everything." Virgil didn't like the idea that something happened to his brother and he's silent about it, but after all John was right about saving the people first since his arm is under control for now.

John crouches by the nearest injured person; a pale, skinny teen with a sizable piece of rebar keeping him pinned.

“You’re gonna be out of there in just a second, Lito.” Virgil watches him reassuring the young man for a long moment, “Uh, Virgil?” John prompts. “Any time?”

“What?” He blinks, “Oh, yeah!” His brother is clearly waiting expectantly for him to use the Jaws of Life to get the poor kid out. "I’m on it, but you better tell me everything after we're done saving them." Virgil demands. “But, uh, Scott’s kind of holding the roof up right now, so you’re probably right.”

"Okay,” John literally rolls his eyes, busy stealing a pair of blue rubber gloves from the Med Kit Virgil brought with him, and snapping them on to protect his hands and the fine cuts he’d gotten from climbing over rubble. “I promise I'll tell you everything, but can we start actually rescuing them now?" Rolling his eyes right back, the bigger man uses his exosuit to heft the rubble off Lito, before John swoops in to apply pressure to his injuries.

“Give me the fold out stretcher from your sash.” He orders, hands bloodied “Then go get the next person out. Efifania, Sergio?” John beckons a pair of nearby dad’s in closer, clearly having singled them out as capable stretcher bearers. “Think you can manage Lito here for me?”

As Virgil starts removing the rubble from above the other two trapped people, a middle aged man and a younger woman, it becomes immediately obvious that both of them have more severe wounds than young Lito. They both need medical treatment immediately.

“I’ll carry one of them.” Without the three extra sets of hands he’d need, Virgil has to leave a couple of crowd members applying pressure to their wounds, as he moves back to where John is helping Lito unsteadily to his feet. “Think you can walk, young man? We’re gonna need that stretcher for the big guy.”

“I won’t let you fall.” John promises, and Virgil feels a real swell of pride at how well his brother is handling the situation whilst being outside of both his space station and his comfort zone. It looks like having a rescue and a job to do really gives him no time for anxiety. "I agree that that's our best plan.” He adds, nodding, short and sharp, to confirm it, then John turns, an arm around Lito’s waist and the kid’s arm slung over his shoulder, to address the crowd.

“Anyone not so severely hurt needs to help get the injured out of here.” John instructs, the small crowd listening raptly. The look on the faces of these scared people is one Virgil is all too familiar with, but he knows John has far less experience of in person. They’re really looking to him as their saviour. “Virgil here is going to lead us through the path he just made.” Which is news to Virgil, but does seem like the best plan. “International Rescue will then be able to take us all to the hospital to get checked out, and then I’m sure you’ll be released to go home to your families before you know it. Got it everyone?"

In that moment Virgil finds himself struck with amazement at how John seems to have become almost as fearless as Scott, as they started carrying the two injured people out to safety. It was really a new side to him that Virgil doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

"Virgil… I need you to check on Lady Penelope and Parker.” John’s keeping pace at his side, helping the boy they’d dug out along as he goes, “I told them to check to see if anyone was hurt."

"Hmm, yeah you're right.” Virgil frowns. If Penny and Parker have any more injured party members, even minor ones that just need a check up, Thunderbird Two will need to evacuate them to the hospital as well. “Have you got any idea where they might be?"

"Well, I told them to get somewhere away from the landslide,” John frowns, as their limping, shocky party stumbles out into the bright light of day, to be greeted by the roar of Thunderbird One’s engines high above them. “They should be near here.” He yells over the sound of it.

As usual, it turns out that John is completely right. Penny and Parker are waiting for them, but neither John nor Virgil find the look on Lady Penelope's face all that reassuring.

"JOHN!” She rushes toward the battered, bloodied spaceman, her arms outstretched. Virgil very quickly and carefully finagles poor Lito out of the way as his brother gets ambushed. “Are you okay?!?” Penelope demands, frantic, “What happened to your arm?” She reaches for the bloodied bandage, and John winces, “I'm so sorry,” All of John’s carefully constructed rules around personal space are shattered as she cups his cheek, inspecting his face for injury. It’s lucky that John is by far the most patient of the Tracy boys. “I shouldn't have left you there.

"She’d been so terrified, perhaps more than anyone else here. The horrific view she’d seen with her own eyes is going to haunt her for a long time yet. One second she was getting out of the building to reassure and check up on the people, and the next she was watching half the structure collapse completely, with John under the side that fell. She still feels a little sick.

"I'm so, so, so sorry John,” She repeats, before he can get a word in edgeways to reassure her, “Please, you must tell me if there's any way I can make it up to you. Ask me anything and I'll do it."

"Okay guys,” Virgil chuckles, “while you talk things out I'll go to get the injured people aboard Thunderbird 2. Make it quick though, we’ve still got people who need immediate medical treatment, got it?"

"F.A.B. Virgil.” John nods, “We'll be quick. Penny, I..."

“I’m so sorry.” She repeats again, and pulls his good arm over her shoulder as if to steady him as they make their way at the back of the crowd toward the big green Thunderbird.

"No no no, Penny, please stop apologising.” John’s fingers tighten for a quick moment on her shoulder, in brief reassurance, “I'm not going to ask you for anything because it was never your fault.” He insists, “It was just some bad luck, that's all. Fortunately I, and most people, got out safe with no severe wounds. These things happen.”

“Your arm.” She points out softly, hoping that all that blood looks worse than it is, “John I can’t believe you stayed behind like that, it’s so...”

“Tracy?” He grins, amused but very weary.

“Scott Tracy.” She corrects, scowling a little as she holds on just that little bit tighter around his waist as his adrenaline from the rescue starts to flag. “I thought you had more common sense.”

“Hate to disappoint.” She feels the warmth of him chuckling, “I’m lucky it was nothing worse than his cut from some shattered glass that fell on my arm while I was helping one of the guys who got stuck. I don’t think any arteries or anything have been damaged, but it is... kinda deep." And he might be getting a little lightheaded from the blood loss. Still, he really wants to reassure her, just like she had reassured him before he’d gone in to give the lecture.

"Hate to interrupt your moment, but are you guys done?" Scott pops up from who-knows-where amongst the crowd to yell at them. He’s clearly joined the relief effort. "Virgil’s just finished getting everyone aboard Thunderbird 2, and he's ready to launch." He adds, squinting at the pale, wobbly mess of his brother. "And you really do need to check your arm. That looks nasty.”

"Yeah Scott,” John wipes a tired hand over his dirty face, dislodging dust, “We're done. Don’t let Thunderbird Two wait for me, I'll hitch a ride with Lady Penelope, uh,” He turns to her, bashful, to check, “If that’s okay?"

“Of course,” Her Ladyship concedes, “Scott?” She is mildly concerned that big brother might want to have the injured member of his flock under his wing so he can smother him.

"Yeah sure, ride whatever you want.” Scott flip flops a dismissive hand at them, “You can ride a pod, I won't care as long as your destination is the hospital."

"How about you, Gordon?” John knows his little brother is still on the line, probably sulking. “Is it okay if I take the ride with Lady P?"

"W-what do you mean by that?” Gordon sounds confused and maybe a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught out. “Scott already said you should go, why’re you asking me?"

"Well, she's your girlfriend.” John grins, teasing, as Penny helps him into the back of FAB1. “Of course I have to get permission from her boyfriend.

"Penny swats at him for that, amused, but careful not to hit his injured arm. She doesn’t need anyone’s permission to do anything, but it is fun to see Gordon squirm - especially as Scott and Virgil both crack up, and even Alan in space starts teasing him.

"What?!?” Gordon’s face, bless that darling young man, has gone bright red. “J-Just go already." He ducks off the comm screen to try and hide his embarrassment, but it’s far too late for that.

He’s lucky that Penelope finds it incredibly endearing.

"John,” She nudges him, as the Tracy’s all click off the line to go do their actual jobs. She’s a little concerned that he’s looking a bit spaced out, if you’ll excuse the pun, and it’s probably a good idea to keep him talking. “You know we're still going to The Pagasa Observatory, just like I promised you, right?"

"Wait really?” John’s head tilts, a little floppy, towards her from where it had been sinking into FAB1’s luxurious headrests. He’s looking a little grey, but it’s good to see his eyes open. “After all that happened?” A ginger eyebrow quirks, “Are you sure there's time for that?"

"Well, we’re on our way to the hospital now, but there’ll be plenty of time this afternoon.” As long as the medics give him a clean bill of health. “You can change your clothes after we're done checking your arm then there should be time for you to go see that big telescope you've been dreaming of visiting. After all, I did promise you we’d go there after we're done."

"Well, that sounds good to me!” John smiles like there’s a supanova fuling him, “Penny you’re the best."

They reach the hospital a little after International Rescue has dropped off the fourty or so injured people, and so there’s quite a wait for a Doctor to be free so that they can have a look at John’s poor, sliced arm. Penny seems to be doing a worried hover at his side, while he waits, shaky from blood loss, and though he’s not used to having so much company, John has to admit it’s nice to have a chance to catch up with his old friend with no rescue alarms blaring.

Alan reports in that the two worst injured in the landslide have been hospitalized as fast as possible, that they were stable - the doctors have said their prognosis looked good. He also tells him that Lito’s family had been asking after the redheaded lecturer who’d helped him out of the rubble, and that John Tracy, M.Sci, PgDip, B.Lang Hons, should probably expect a gift basket in the mail quite soon.

John gets quite flustered about that. He’d just been doing his job.

The spaceman's arm was eventually treated, and Scott calls in to ask what actually happened to his arm. It still hurts, a properly bandaged throb just under his elbow, but not like before. The painkilling injection and little bit of morphine they’d given him when they stitched it up had probably helped with that.

Alan’s reports dug up that the landslide had been caused by a water main leaking under the building, and destabilizing the soil. Over time, water can do a lot of damage, washing away vital infrastructure if it’s not been properly reinforced during construction.

As the Chino Roque Theater was a new build, there must have been a mistake in the installation of the pipes during construction.

Someone was getting a big lawsuit heading their way, and Tracy Enterprises will be more than happy to fund the lawyers for the theatre.

As Lady Penelope promised him, they found John a change of clothes and went to the Pagasa Observatory. Penny’s quite sure she’s never seen anything as wholesome as the moment John sees the telescope - his eyes went all shiny, and the smile on his face was massive.

"Lady Penelope, Parker come take a look at the stars!!!” He calls, over his shoulder, with the enthusiasm of a boy half his age, “They’re really beautiful from here!" With such a high-powered lens pointed up at the cosmos, it rivals even his view from Thunderbird Five.

"Indeed, they are." Lady Penelope and Parker both step up to take turns, but John was the one to look through the telescope the most. With all the stealth her years as a secret agent offered her, Lady Penelope took a picture of him.

"Parker, come take a look." She whispers, beckoning her old companion gleefully over. "He looks so happy and innocent in this picture. Wouldn’t it be lovely to see his face like this always?"

"We still have some time before they close,” Parker points out, a sly grin creeping onto his nosey old face. “How h’bout we leave him like this for a little longer?"

"That, Parker.” she smiles, “Is an excellent idea.”

The End

#tag mini bang 2021 #tagminibang2021 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #john tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #Lady Penelope #Parker #tag #my writing

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slowly-writing · 4 years

Text

Hometown

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Word count: 2.1K

Requested by anon: hey! Can you do a JJ x reader where the BAU works a case where the reader has to go to her hometown and it brings up some difficult things for her but JJ helps her through it?

Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence and a crappy family

“Three women have been found dead in their homes in the last week. Each time the unsub has left an elaborate harddrive at the scene. The locals have been unable to get into them and have requested our help,” Hotch starts the briefing. Everyone looks down at the case files in front of them. You’re all saddened at the brutality of the crimes, but your sharp intake of breath draws all eyes to you.

“You good, y/l/n? It’s bad, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” Morgan says and you shake your head.

“I’m fine,” you snap, and that only confuses them further.

“Obviously you’re not. What’s going on?” Penelope asks and you grit your teeth.

“I said I’m fine Garcia. Just drop it!” There’s a moment of tense silence as everyone tries to process the situation before Hotch continues the briefing. As everyone looks back to the screen JJ grabs your hand under the table. She knows what’s going on, she saw it in the file too. You’re going back to your hometown, and it’s not going to be a nice reunion.

Hotch dismisses the briefing not long after and you dash from the room. Everyone looks to JJ, waiting for her to explain your behavior.

“Spill,” Morgan says and her jaw drops.

“Spill what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tries to blow it off and is met with several simultaneous eye rolls.

“Spill what’s got your girl all riled up. She’s never snapped like that before. Especially not at me,” Garcia states, crossing her arms and pouting slightly and JJ sighs.

“I know, and I know she’s gonna be beating herself up for it. Just, please be gentle,” she knows how upset you’re gonna be with yourself for taking your frustrations out on your team, and she hopes they won’t hold it against you.

“We’re gonna forgive her. We just wanna know what’s going on,” Rossi tells her.

“The case is in her hometown. She’s got some…not so great memories there. I don’t think she’s quite ready to relive them just yet,” the team all nods in understanding. “But it’s coming one way or the other. Come on, I’m sure she’s halfway to the tarmac by now.”

xxxxx

You had your hands shoved in your pockets as you walked into the precinct. You didn’t want anyone to see how tightly your fists were clenched. You shuffled in behind the rest of the BAU. You hadn’t talked to them yet, but they seemed to have an unspoken agreement to form a barrier between you and the locals, but there was only so much they could do.

“Well if it isn’t little Y/n Gardner, what brings you back to our humble town?” You flinch as the cop throws an arm around your shoulder and ruffles your hair. The rest of the team sends you confused looks for the second, and probably not the last, time of the day.

“I’m here for work, Charlie,” you shrug the man off and straighten your hair.

“Always working, aren’t you? Curious, wanting to solve all the mysteries. That curiosity of yours has caused you some problems in the past. Don’t you think it’s time you let up?” The rest of the team senses the anger in his voice and Hotch steps in.

“Regardless of the past, we have a job to do. Could you lead us to where we can set up?” He asks firmly and Charlie smirks.

“Chief Gardener is probably around here somewhere. He could show you,” he’s looking around and you cut him off.

“I know where the conference room is. We’ll get there on our own,” you say, walking toward the room on the other side of the precinct. You open the door, ushering the team inside with a grimace, “we can set up in here.”

The team is full of questions, but they’re also profilers. They know you’re in no mood to open up to them right now, so they shove the curiosity to the back of their minds and focus on the case.

xxxxx

“Alright, let’s deliver the profile,” Hotch announced to the team. It took everything in you to hold back your groan. Over the last few days you’ve been able to avoid direct contact with local law enforcement. They all had their eyes on you constantly, either sending looks of pity or hate to the girl who divided the town. Mainly you stayed in the conference room. Reid taught you how to build a geographical profile, and you helped Penelope with the computer where you could. You even managed to not be seen by the chief yet, but this briefing would put you right in his line of sight.

You stood up silently and went into the bullpen as Hotch asked the nearest officer to gather everyone. Your plan was to stand in the back and be quiet, but as you saw the man across the room look at you, you realized that wouldn’t be happening.

“The man we’re looking for is-“ Hotch is cut off.

“I wanna hear it from y/n,” the chief says and you clench your jaw.

“Now isn’t the time Jacob. Just shut up and let Agent Hotchner tell you who we’re looking for. The sooner we catch him the sooner I’ll be out of here and you won’t have to worry about me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“And let you ruin another innocent man’s life? I’m not gonna sit by and watch you do to somebody else what you did to dad,” he says, pushing himself off the wall he’s been leaning on and taking a few steps towards you and you snap.

“Dad was a lot of things, but innocent wasn’t one of them,” you can feel yourself losing your cool as you close the gap between the two of you. “He hurt a lot of people, Jake.”

“Oh and you’re quite the reliable source. His bastard daughter. What was it? Daddy didn’t give you enough attention? You had to find another way to get all eyes on you, huh?” he spits out. You’re about to throw a punch, but luckily you’re surrounded by a group of profilers who know you better than anyone. As you go to pull your arm back Derek wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up and quite literally removing you from the situation. When he sets you down a few feet away JJ’s face is in front of yours, her hands on your shoulders.

“Calm down, everything’s alright,” she whispers as you avoid eye contact, brushing her arms off of you.

“I’m fine,” you say for the hundredth time this week and take off, going outside to get some air. You make your way to the back alley, furiously rubbing at your face and trying to stop the tears you can feel building up. JJ is the first one outside and you don’t fight her this time as she pulls you into her arms. You bury your face in her shoulder as the tears start to fall. You’re exhausted from trying to keep it all in, both physically and emotionally, and soon you’re sobbing so hard you’re starting to hyperventilate.

“Hey, look at me, right at me. Just focus on my voice,” JJ says as she pulls away and takes your hand, placing it on her chest. “Just follow my breathing love, you’re okay.”

After a few minutes you’re able to get breathing back in check, and you latch onto JJ again. You hear the door open and your whole body goes rigid, not ready to face Jacob yet.

“Hey, it’s just us. We wanted to check on you,” Spencer’s voice is barely above a whisper, as if talking to a spooked animal.

“I’m okay,” you mumble, pulling away from JJ and wiping the tears away in embarrassment. You still keep a tight grip on her hand, but your gaze is on the floor.

“You don’t have to hide from us. We all get it,” Penelope says and you smile a bit.

“I guess you want an explanation,” you say with a self deprecating laugh, hating that you’ve ended up in this situation.

“Only if you’re ready,” Hotch gives you an out, but you don’t take it.

“No, I want you all to know. It’s just kind of a long story.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world, babygirl.” You roll your eyes at Derek’s nickname before speaking again.

“That was my brother in there. He’s a few years older than me. Our dad cheated on his mom with mine when he was six and they had me. My mom died when I was four and I went to go live with my dad. None of them particularly liked me. Ever since I moved in there had been problems between my dad and Jacob’s mom. She pretended I didn’t exist and my dad…well I wished he did. He beat up on me pretty bad, but he was the chief of police, so everyone turned a blind eye. When I was nine I found out my dad was involved in some pretty shady stuff. Drug dealing, embezzlement, you name it he was probably doing it,” you explain and Penelope speaks up.

“How does a nine year old figure that out?” She asks and you look away again. JJ squeezes your hand drawing your eyes to her as she puts the pieces together. You can see the question in her eyes and you just nod, you can do this.

“I uh…I found his stash. I saw some powder in this little bag in his room and I thought it was candy, like a pixie stick or something. So I hid it in my pocket when he wasn’t looking. I was at the station after school, sitting in the conference room actually, when I went to eat it. I poured some on my tongue, the second I tasted it I spit it out. I came running into the bullpen yelling ‘Dad why does your candy taste funny?’ and waving the bag around. He panicked, started screaming at me, calling me every name in the book right there in front of the whole precinct. Half the guys still work here…I still don’t know if it’s the cocaine that I ingested or the fear of having him lose it, probably a bit of both, but I passed out. They had to rush me to the hospital. The one here doesn’t have a pediatric unit so they had to take me to the county one. When an ambulance came in with a little kid and half a dozen cop cars following it, the doctors had some questions. It launched a whole investigation. There was a whole ring here in town and a lot of people went down. It’s not like I was trying to break it apart, I was nine. I wasn’t investigating it. It was an accident but I sure got blamed. I had to testify at his trial. I knew the way he treated me was’t right, but I didn’t realize I was digging his grave a bit deeper with every word I said until a few years ago. Last I heard he was doing fifteen to twenty years. He should be up for parole soon,” you realize, and you start to spiral, staring off into space and wondering what will happen when he gets out. JJ calling your name pulls you back into reality.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I ended up living with an aunt after all that. I went by my mom’s last name, legally changed it when I turned eighteen. I kept my head down and worked my ass off. I graduated high school at 16 and never looked back. If I had I might know how the hell Jacob was able to get a job in this precinct, let alone run it,” you finish and before anyone can speak Penelope has practically tackled you into a hug.

“Did you know any of this?” Rossi’s question is directed at JJ and she lets out a sigh.

“I knew she had a bad experience with drugs as a kid. She freaks out whenever I leave a bottle of tylenol where Henry can see it, that makes sense now. I knew it was because of her father. And I knew she wasn’t on speaking terms with any of her family,” JJ lists off and you feel your eyes starting to water once again.

“It’s not something I talk about. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.” JJ shakes her head, cupping your cheek in her hand.

“I’m not mad. It was your story to tell me when you were ready,” she places a kiss on your forehead and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Alright, let’s go catch this son of a bitch so we can get the hell out of here,” you say and the team agrees, heading back into the building with a renewed desire to close this case.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @5aftermidnight @im-salt-but-not-salty @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Criminal minds tag list: @reidingandwriting

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disasterfandoms · 3 years

Text

The Sister Becomes Known || A Trent Sawyer One-Shot

this is a continuation of these two stories written by @bravo-four-seal-team and I!

cowritten with @bravo-four-seal-team and @galaxysanduniversesinmymind (bless you for helping me with Brock)

Summary: Trent receives an email from his sister who he hasn’t spoken to in 5 years. Is he ready to forgive her, and what does she mean by “Amelia was right?”

A/N: This contains Two OCs: Amelia Carter, my OC who is in a relationship with Trent; and Ashley, @bravo-four-seal-team’s OC who is Trent’s sister. This is in the same universe of my Full Metal and Trent Sawyer series, and is set slightly before the pilot episode. this got very long and very dramatic, so apologies!

TW: arguments, mentions of torture, mentions of death, implied sexual activity (very brief, like maybe two to three sentences), implied alcohol consumption, hangover, brief mention of nausea, brief mention of vomiting.

Word count: 3,000

Taglist: @twentydavid @a-kate3 @rebelwrites @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @supervalcsi @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @mrsmarvelous1995 @chibsytelford @velvetcardiganbucky @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace

Sometimes, Trent really hated his internal alarm clock.

Amelia was fast asleep, cuddled up into his side, with her head and right arm on his chest. He still couldn’t believe that she could sleep all night like that, if it wouldn’t disturb her he would toss and turn every which way during the night. He’s gotta admit, though, he sleeps better when she’s here. He lifts his head off the pillow and looks at the alarm clock: 5:05 AM. Of course it is.

He slowly and very, very carefully tries and untangles himself from the literal sleeping cuddle monster he happened to fall in love with, putting her head on a pillow to try and mimic his chest, found his shorts they threw on the ground and tiptoed downstairs to start some coffee.

Turning the light on, he definitely didn’t expect to see a creature laid out on his couch. He let out a quiet gasp, his hand immediately going to his chest, then squinting to see if he could tell who it was from where he stood.

He took a couple of steps forward, before realizing it was Brock, a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels still in his hand. He sighs and shakes his head, he can’t even get one night without one of his brothers ending up on his couch. Though, at least Brock didn’t walk in on them yet again, so he’ll take it. He grabs the bottle from Brock’s hand, careful not to wake him, and puts it in the trash. He then starts his coffee, when he hears a soft ding from his computer in his office. Making a mental note to check that, he finishes making the jet fuel, as Ames called it, when he felt a set of hands wrap around his waist, her head leaning against him.

“Did I wake you?” Trent asked quietly, careful not to wake the tall man drunkenly passed out in his living room. All the feels in response is her head nodding against his back. He reaches into the cabinet and pulls out two mugs, putting coffee in both, before he finally feels her arms leave his waist as he turns to hand her the cup. Amelia sleepily nods a thank you, and he finally realizes all she’s in is his t-shirt.

“Might want to go put shorts or something on, love. Had a late-night visitor,” Trent mentioned, motioning towards Brock with his head. She sighed and wiped the sleep from her eyes while nodding, mumbled something that he swore was “shower” and walked upstairs.

Trent, finally remembering the notification sound his computer had made, made his way into his home office, where his computer, bookshelves, and medkits are stored. He lightly taps the Yoda bobblehead on his desk causing the head to shake, before sitting in his chair. He lightly chuckles, checking the notification that he’s received an email. When he opens it up, he instantly freezes.

Ashley?

He feels his entire body fill up with anxiety, shaking his head at the subject line: “Surprise Bitch I lived. (plz open this)”. He would have laughed if this wasn’t the first time he’s heard from her in... what, five years?

He quickly opens the email, reading it in its entirety. He couldn’t believe that she reached out to him at all, let alone to apologize. He keeps rereading it, trying to make sure his eyes weren’t fooling him until his brain finally catches up and realizes that his baby sister was on the same base with him a couple of months ago, and he didn’t even see her.

Wait.

He rereads one more time, and she keeps saying “Amelia was right.” His Amelia? There was no way, he thought, trying to suspend the belief that his girlfriend of almost three years would have met his sister, talked to her, and didn’t tell him.

There’s no way, right?

“Looks like you’re dating again as well, she seems nice (Let her know she was right, honestly, I am not happy about her being right.). You seem super happy which is good to see.” The sentence is one he keeps replaying in his mind. Why wouldn’t she tell him she met his sister? Granted, he doesn’t talk about that fight or what had happened, bad memories full of angry words and regret, but Amelia, a woman who prides herself on being honest and trustworthy, should have never kept this from him.

“Whatcha readin’ sailor?” Amelia says, leaning on the entrance door frame, a piping hot cup of coffee in her hand. God if he wasn’t starting to get angry with her he would be awestruck about how pretty she is, even with her hair up in a towel and no makeup on. Focus Trent, he mentally reminds himself before asking her to come over and read it for herself.

He sits there, feeling her read over his shoulder, before turning to look at her as she realizes what the email said and sees her eyes widen. He can feel the anger rise in his body, as well as the confusion that she would hide this from him.

“Trent, I-”, she starts, but he shakes his head as if to tell her to not start with any excuses.

“Why?” Trent asks, trying to keep his voice quiet so as to not wake up Brock. God knows he doesn’t need his brother knowing about his troubles more than he already does.

“I was going to tell you.” She quietly answers him, her hand instantly reaching up to where her locket usually is. She forgot to put it back on, though, so her hand fins the collar of her shirt and starts to pull on it.

“You should have told me the day it happened, Amelia. This is family we’re talking about,” Trent huffed, leaning forward in his chair. Amelia has since decided to lean against the desk, facing the wall as one hand was wrapped around herself, and the other still on her shirt collar.

“You were deploying the next day, Trent. I wasn’t going to drop the bomb on you that your sister showed up unannounced at my apartment right before you deployed.”

“That’s not something you just keep to yourself, Amelia. Why the hell did she even go talk to you?”

“She wanted to know about us, our relationship. I wasn’t about to tell you something like that and then you go get yourself killed because of it. No way in hell, Trent.” She shook her head and closed her eyes as if trying to erase the thought from her mind.

“For god’s sake, Ames, how many times do we have to have this conversation. I can handle myself in the field, it is not your job to protect me.” His left hand coming up to his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That’s bullshit, Trent. There’s always going to be things I’ll take off the table of discussion until I know you’re home, safe. I won’t be able to handle being the reason you’re coming home in a body bag.”

“It’s my job to compartmentalize things, focus on the tasks at hand. I can handle it, Amelia, I’m not a damn kid.”

“Trent, I never said you were!” Amelia threw her hands in the air, wishing this was a non-issue.

“Then stop treating me like one. You and I both know I had the right to know that she showed up. Why did you even let her in? She could have killed you!”

“She wasn’t going to kill me! She showed me a picture of you two when you were younger, you two have the same eyes, and I didn’t have a reason to believe she wasn’t being anything but truthful.”

“You don’t know that, Amelia. She’s a stranger to you.”

“And apparently to you, too, since you didn’t recognize her on base or during missions, Trent.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He sat up straight, boring his eyes into hers, looking for anything that gives away what she was talking about.

“She told me her unit was backup for you on a couple of missions, that she saw you a couple of times on base and you didn’t recognize her. What kind of brother does that, hmm?”

“You better be joking, Ames.”

“Yeah, because that’s definitely something I would joke about. God, do you even realize what you just asked me?” Amelia asked sarcastically, sick of him and sick of this argument.

“Right now I’m not even sure if I know you as well as I thought I did. You and I both know this isn’t something I take lightly, you should have told me when it happened.”

“When, Trenton? When you were on base, in back-to-back training exercises, packing your cage up for deployment? Or how about when you came home and you were packing what you needed from here? Oh, I know, I should have told you when we were saying goodbye here, because you didn’t want me to see you off on the tarmac.” Her voice was loud and full of rage, still annoyed about him asking her to stay away from the tarmac.

“Yeah, literally any of those instances would have worked.” He nodded.

“Good to know you both share a stubborn streak.” She sighed, putting her head in her hands.

“You act like I don’t have the right to know, Amelia!”

"For fucks sake, Trent. I was going to tell you when you got home, and you were back in your routine. Didn't expect you to get spun-up as early as you did, and I sure as hell didn't expect Nate to die when you did get spun-up." Amelia seethed, and Trent’s heart broke at the mention of his fallen brother.

“Don��t. Don’t you dare bring him into this. It’s been four fucking days, Amelia. Using him as an excuse is a low-blow and you know it.” Trent says with a warning edge in his voice. He was trying not to yell, but bringing Nate up pushed him over the edge.

“I’m not using him as a fucking excuse, you asshole, it’s the truth. I’m not going to apologize for doing what I believe was right.”

Brock is slammed into awareness by two things. One, a pounding headache that feels like a bulldozer is trying to break his skull. Two, yelling, only slightly muffled by a wall. His hand clenches around empty space where he could have sworn the bottle of Jack Daniels was, and he cracks open his eyes. The sight before him isn’t his apartment, and if he had to guess, he’d say it was Trent’s. He usually crashes at Trent’s after a long night. That doesn’t explain why Trent, and who he assumes is that lady he has around all the time, were yelling, though. He’s told them her name before, Brock vaguely remembers, but it escapes him. Anyways, she was pretty used to various Bravo members crashing at Trent’s place. He began slowly pulling himself to his feet, feet unsteadily settling on the floor. He needed a glass of water and some painkillers, but first, he needed that incessant yelling to stop. He stumbles towards Trent’s study, occasionally stopping to regain balance. When he arrives at the door, he sees Trent in his chair, his computer displaying something, and the woman, god what was her name, standing over Trent, arms crossed. Both of them, without a doubt, look pissed. Trent opens his mouth for what Brock is sure to be a scathing remark, but Brock speaks first.

“Hi. Don’t know why you’re yelling at each other, but could you calm down? It’s not good for the hangover.” He watched bleary-eyed as both Trent and the lady snapped their heads toward them. Her gaze softened, and she seemed to calm down a bit, meanwhile, Trent looked just as pissed as he did a few seconds ago.

“Fuck off, Brock. Why were you on my couch anyway?” Trent snapped, but he immediately wished he didn’t when a) he heard himself, and b) when he saw the glare Amelia shot at him. He’s only ever seen her give that look to Full Metal, and he’s started to see why Metal was afraid of his sister when she was angry. A deep wave of hurt crossed Brock’s face, as he flinched back and started losing his balance, gripping the door frame for support.

“C’mon, Brock, let’s put you in the guest bedroom. I’ll bring you some Tylenol and a glass of water up in a minute, okay?” Amelia gently ordered him, putting the much taller man’s arm over her shoulders, guiding him to the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes, uh, I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” Brock muttered, thankful someone was being nice to him since Trent was being an ass. The lady under his arm walked him carefully up the stairs, giving him a polite smile of encouragement every time he felt like he was going to fall over.

“My name is Amelia. Not sure if Trent ever introduced us properly,” She supplied, leading him through the bedroom door and onto the bed. He welcomed the softness of the sheets and duvet, though the movement caused his stomach to turn. Before he could reply to Amelia, though, she was already out the door. She returned a few minutes later, with a trash can she stole from the guest bathroom, and the Tylenol and water as promised.

“Here, take these,” she instructed while plopping them into his hand, “and if you get sick here’s something to throw up in. Sorry we woke you.” He nodded in understanding, and she quietly left the room.

She went back downstairs, walking into the office where she had left her boyfriend. She was seeing red at this point. Amelia understood he was hurt and upset with her, but snapping at Brock, who didn’t do anything? Out of the question. He could yell at her all he wanted, but they were all still reeling from Nate’s death and like hell would she let him take that out on some of the very few people he could trust with everything. She stopped, leaning against the door frame, trying to compose herself before she said something she regretted.

“I understand you’re hurt that I wanted to wait and tell you your sister reached out to me, but how you acted just now was out of line.” She started, before taking a deep breath.

“Amelia, I-”

“No.” She interrupted him, shaking her head feverishly, “Do not interrupt me, do not even think about trying to backpedal. I understand you being hurt by what I did, and hell you’re probably more pissed now than I have ever seen you, but don’t you dare take that out on him. I can take whatever yelling you want to throw at me, but you aren’t angry at Brock, so don’t treat him like shit for coming to his friends when he was drunk and alone. As you said before, Nate died four days ago, I’m surprised it’s only him on your couch. He needs his friend, his brother, so when he wakes up, you’re going to apologize to him. I’m going home, we both need to cool down and I can’t do that looking at your stupid face,” She finishes and turns around to leave the house before he could get a word in edgewise.

He quickly gets up, moving across the room and reaching her faster than she’d like. He grabs her hand, and she turns around to yell at him again until she sees the look on his face. He nods, takes a deep breath, and starts to speak.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper at Brock. I know he wasn’t the problem, I regretted it as soon as I said it. I’m still really angry, and hurt, but don’t go to your apartment. We can’t talk through this if you leave, and I definitely don’t want this hanging over our heads, not with everything else going on.” He was holding both of her hands now, looking into her eyes to see if anything he just said had its intended impact.

“Fine, but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. I’m sorry that my actions, while they were made with good intentions, hurt you. It’s going to take me a minute to calm down fully, okay? I’m serious, though, I know you’re hurting, especially after Nate, but that’s no way to talk to your brother, who is also hurting. You owe him, probably a lot of beer.” That last line got him to smile, even just a tiny bit, which Amelia considered a win.

“Yes ma’am. Now, breakfast?”

“Yes, please! While you cook it or go get it, whichever is fine with me, we can come up with what you want to say when you reply to the email,” Amelia suggested, being led by Trent into the kitchen. She jumps up to sit on the counter, while he goes and looks in the fridge.

“Who says I’m going to reply?” He says, grabbing the ingredients he needs before shutting the door, turning to look at Amelia, her eyebrows raised.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t just get through fighting for over an hour just for you not to reply to your sister. She took the first step, T. At least reply to her, even if you don’t want to forgive her. Don’t see that happening, though, you were too pissed at the thought of not talking to her 3-4 months ago to not want to try,” Amelia reasoned, hoping this didn’t reignite the fire.

“I hate when you’re right, y’know that? Oh, and by the way,” He turned to look at her, smirking ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“My full name is Trent, not Trenton.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me we’ve been together for how many years and I’m just now finding that out?”

“Yep.”

“Well, shit.”

#this is the longest single story i have wrote on this blog #trent sawyer #brock reynolds #seal team #series

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