#want to cry over ms teams in front of this person i barely know. so i was just like 'yeah i'm fine'

[parkerslatte]

Don't Leave Me

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: major injury. blood. mentions of gunshot wounds. typos

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Y/N gets shot in her apartment and she barely gets to the phone in time to call Spencer.

MASTERLIST

***

Y/N relaxed into her couch and pulled her knees up to her chest. She had just gotten home from work. The team had a long case so all Y/N was looking forward to do was sitting back and watching television for the next week she had off (curtesy of Hotch).

As she flicked through the channels deciding on what to watch, she heard a knock at her apartment door. Her eyebrows furrowed, the time was 1am so she was confused as to why someone was knocking on her door at this hour.

Most likely going against her better judgement - Y/N headed over to her door and looked through the peephole. There stood a figure in dark clothing. They looked around them as if expecting someone or something to come out and grab them.

The person knocked again, this time more frantically, "Please let me in. There's someone trying to get me, he's been following me for ages." It was a woman.

The pleading tone in the womans voice was enough for YN to open her door and let the person in. The woman rushed in and Y/N shut the door behind her.

"Are you okay? Do I need to call someone?" Y/N questioned, folding her arms across her chest.

"No, no its fine. Can I stay here for a bit? Just until I know he's gone for sure." The woman asked.

Y/N nodded, "What's your name?"

The woman hesitated for a second, but Y/N being slightly tired, didn't notice it, "Laura."

"Well Laura, do you want a drink or something?" Y/N asked.

"I'm fine thank you." Laura replied.

Y/N nodded before heading over to her kitchen and getting a glass of water for herself, "So how long are you planning on staying here Laura? I'm not rushing you to leave or anything, it's just so I don't accidentally fall asleep while you're here."

"Oh, not long. Not long at all." Laura replied, looking around Y/N's living area.

"So who was this man chasing you?" Y/N questioned, re-entering the living area with her glass of water.

"There wasn't anyone chasing me." Laura said.

"But you said there was a man chasing you?" Y/N questioned.

"No, there wasn't." Laura stated.

Y/N began to suddenly feel uneasy in the woman's presence, "Okay, Laura I'm going to very kindly ask you to leave-"

A gunshot went off causing Y/N to drop her glass. It shattered on the floor. Y/N looked down and saw a patch of red spreading on her abdomen. She clutched at it before she fell to the floor.

Laura stepped over Y/N, "You don't remember me do you? Well you should. You're the one who locked my husband up for life. That was you" Laura screamed in her face.

Y/N still laced on the floor, clutching her gunshot wound. She tried to get words out but nothing came out except splutters. The shards from her broken glass dug into her back.

Laura sighed pitifully, "Poor little Agent L/N, no one can save you now." Laura raised her gun again and shot Y/N in the shoulder before standing up and turned to leave her apartment.

Y/N wanted to scream out in pain but she couldn't. It felt as if her vocal chords had been cut. The gunshot should have alerted Y/N's neighbours but she knew that Lindley who lived down the hall from her was visiting her parents and sweet old Mr. Whittle wouldn't of been able to hear it without the help of his hearing aids.

Y/N was alone. She was going to die alone.

Her head fell to the side and in her blurry vision, she saw her phone laying on the floor, it had fallen off the couch. She was not that far away from it but eveytime she moved her body it felt like it was on fire.

Y/N had two options - not try to get the phone and bleed out or try to get the phone and have a chance of someone saving her (that's if they hot there in time).

Building up as much strength she could muster, Y/N began to move her arm to reach for her phone. As she did so, she let out a painful scream. She had felt pain before but nothing this unbearable.

She tried one, two, three more times, each time she did so - the faster she was losing consciousness and blood. On her final attempt, Y/N managed to grab the phone.

She unlocked it and pressed a number in her contacts. She wasn’t sure who it was as her vision was beginning to go as she began to loose consciousness faster.

The phone rang and Y/N prayed that whoever she called would be local and they would pick up. The phone rang three times before a voice on the other end answered.

"Hello?" It was Spencer.

"Spencer," Y/N sounded out of breath, "Help." Y/N lost consciousness.

***

Spencer, who was confused as to why Y/N was calling him so late, picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Spencer," Spencer immediately filled with worry, her voice sounded strained and breathless, like she was fighting for air, "Help."

"Y/N what happened?" There was no answer, "Y/N!" No answer.

Spencer paced around worried out of his mind. Something bad had happened. Something really bad.

Spencer immediately left his apartment and headed to Y/N's. On the way there he called the others telling them that something had happened to Y/N and to meet him at her apartment.

There were barely any cars on the road. Spencer drove as fast as he possibly could (even breaking the legal limit at times) to get to Y/N as quick as possible. If something bad had happened to her, he didn’t know why he would do.

Once he got to her apartment block, he raced up to the second floor and found her apartment door wide open. He approached it with caution, regretting not bringing his gun. Once he got to the door, he peered inside. His blood ran cold. Y/N was laying on the floor in a pool if her own blood, two bullet wounds on her body.

Spencer rushed over to Y/N. Luckily she was still breathing. He applied pressure to both of her wounds. Y/N awoke with a shock. She began to breath heavily - the adrenaline gone from her body. The pain was unbearable.

She looked at the person above her, "Spencer?" Almost immediately, Y/N began to loose consciousness again.

"No, no, Y/N, stay with me, okay? Stay with me!" Spencer said, adding more pressure to her wounds.

Y/N just closed her eyes again, falling unconscious. Spencer began to panic once he noticed that she had stopped breathing.

"No, Y/N stay with me! You're not going to die, okay? I'm not going to let you. Stay with me!" Spencer pleaded.

Seconds after Spencer said that, the rest of the BAU came into Y/N's apartment. They all looked around for a moment before their eyes landed on Y/N and Spencer on the floor - Spencer’s hands and clothes covered in Y/N's blood.

"Oh my god." JJ said before calling an ambulance.

"She's- she's stopped breathing." Spencer said, hand still covering her wounds.

"The ambulance should be here in a minute, luckily she doesn't live too far away from the hospital." JJ announced.

A couple of minutes a later, the ambulance showed up in front of Y/N apartment. They took Y/N's body and rushed her to the hospital. Spencer tried to go in the ambulance with her but since he wasn't family - he couldn't.

"Reid," Hotch said calmly, although inside he was filled to the brim with worry, "What happened here?"

"I- I don't know. Y/N called me saying she needed help so I came here and she-" Spencer couldn't finish the rest of his sentence before a strangled cry came out.

He looked down at his hands, they were stained red with blood - her blood. Frantically he began to wipe them in his trousers.

"I need- I need to get to the hospital. I can't- I can't stand here and do nothing." Spencer said and went to rush out of Y/N's apartment until a gentle hand stopped him.

"Spence, you should go home and get changed. Y/N will be in surgery, there's not much you can do for her right now." JJ said, trying to calm Spencer down. She knew how Spencer felt about Y/N so she knew what he would be feeling at this very moment.

Spencer went to argue but then slowly nodded his head agreeing with JJ. He left without another word.

***

Y/N felt like her entire body was on fire when she woke up. At first she was confused as to where she was. Then it was if a dam broke and everything came rushing back to her. Laura shot her. She bled out. Spencer helped her. She stopped breathing. The journey to the hospital. Everything.

Y/N moved her head and looked down slightly to look at her body. Her shoulder had been patched up and she could only guess the same with the wound on her stomach.

"You are a very lucky woman, Ms. L/N," The doctor said as she walked in, "The bullets just missed your vital organs by barely a millimeter."

"How long have I been out?" Y/N asked, her voice hoarse.

"Just over a day," her doctor answered, "And this one hasn't left your side since. You have a good one there Ms. L/N." Her doctor gave her an smile before leaving the room.

Y/N looked over in at the chair next yo her bed and saw Spencer sleeping, his hand clutched in Y/N's. She smiled at him.

Y/N squeezed his hand lightly to try and wake him. Spencer instantly, Y/N could tell that he was sleeping lightly.

"Hey," Spencer said, "You're awake."

Y/N smiled, "Looks as if you are now too," Y/N said, "Have you been here the entire time?"

Spencer nodded, "I wanted to be here when you woke up. I didn’t want you waking up with no one here - although I had to lie and say I was your fiancee for them to allow me to stay. That's okay isn't it?"

"Perfectly okay," Y/N responded, squeezing his hand, "And thank you Spencer."

"What for?"

"Answering your phone. If you didn't I'm sure I would be dead right now."

"I would answer my phone for you anytime Y/N. No matter the reason, I would answer," Spencer replied, "And there is no reason to thank me. I didn’t do anything."

"You saved my life." Y/N said.

"No, the doctors did that, all I did-"

"Spencer, I wouldn't have made it to the doctors if it wasn't for you. Thank you." Y/N said.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I don't know what I would do without you. Just the thought of you dying, I couldn't live without you." Spencer confessed, holding onto Y/N's hand a little tighter.

Y/N smiled, "Come over here." Spencer, pulled his chair a little closer to Y/N. "A little closer." Spencer pulled his chair even closer.

Y/N reached up to his face, cupping it in her hand. Her thumb ran lightly over his cheekbone, "You, Spencer Reid, are perfect."

Spencer didn't have a chance to reply to her before she pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t know what to do at first. The woman he had loved for two years was kissing him. Spencer kissed back and placed his hands either side of Y/N's face, deepening the kiss. Y/N sighed happily into it and Spencer could feel her smile.

"Woah, what is going on in here?" Derek said, a smirk evident on his face.

Y/N and Spencer immediately jumped apart as the rest of the BAU team came in carrying get well soon balloons and small little presents. A deep blush made its way across both of their faces.

"It took a near death experience for the two to finally admit they liked each other." Derek teased.

A small smile spread across Y/N's face as she looked at Spencer. The man she had loved for two years like her back and the kiss the two shared was unlike anything she had experienced before. Even if she had nearly died, Y/N couldn’t think of a more perfect moment.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler

[honeyxmonkey]

I've always had the hc that Douxie can do something akin to siren magic where he can entrance someone/s with his voice by channeling magic into his singing

Honestly anytime you have a magic character associated with music I'll throw this siren thing at them XD

When Douxie uses the siren voice, his voice gets very melodic and echoey, just very enchanting to listen to that even people who the spell isn't directed at will start drifting towards him, wanting to be closer to hear it better

And sometimes even he can get lost in the music and not realize the spell is affecting his friends

So he doesn't do it often

The song often affects the listener in a way where they'll be, for lack of a better word, completely head over heels and wanting to do anything for the singer

Lil moppet douxie is just singing one day, absent-mindedly so as he does his chores, not realizing how his singing is affecting the people around him. He looks up to see that he's gathered a small crowd of people, Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, a few maids and they're all listlessly standing around, eyes glazed over as if they're in a trance.

Douxie, horrified, clamps his mouth shut and the spell breaks. He's so terrified of himself, that he did that without even thinking, that he'd too scared to say anything when Merlin asks him what happened. He's too scared to use his voice in fear of what it'll do to them again

One day, Douxie has no other choice than to use his voice in that way he really hates doing it because he hates taking away someone else's control over themselves but he needs to so his friends can live so he steps out in front, standing in front of the group protectively, taking a deep breath.

Archie knows what he's about to do and says, "I'd cover your ears."

And then Douxie begins to sing. His voice floats through the air, gently taking hold of their enemy, luring them into a false sense of security and the enemy they're fighting becomes listless and relaxed.

Before his voice can really do any damage to the team, they wisely cover their ears, all except Steve who wasn't quick enough and is now listening with the same glazed over expression

Douxie feeds more magic into his voice, singing of peaceful sleep and starry night skies and one by one, the army of enemies begin to drop, lulled to sleep by the siren song. Steve also passes out and him falling startles Douxie who falters for a moment, horror passing over his face at seeing his friend so affected by him. Archie gives him a nod of encouragement and Douxie picks the song back up before their enemies can shake off the siren spell

Sometimes Douxie will accidentally use his siren voice but like, it's so brief that it barely has time to work on anyone. He's just vibing, belting out a Disney song or something and then he notices his magic is working and almost immediately he closes his mouth and takes a moment to compose himself. It's so hard to remember to keep a lid on his siren magic sometimes. It's not like his other magic, this sort of siren magic just starts working on its own sometimes.

Claire pops her head into his room to make sure he's okay because he stopped singing so abruptly and the team had kinda been enjoying the show tunes.

Douxie shakily reassures her that he's fine. She isn't convinced he is

One time, the team is having a karaoke night and they have to beg douxie to join them, reassuring that they trust him and that he's gotten so good at controlling his magic.

Douxie reluctantly agrees and when it's his turn to sing, the anxiety pooling in his stomach only grows worse when he starts to sing. He can feel his magic wanting to spill into his voice, but he forces it down. This is supposed to be a night of fun with his friends, not a place for magic. He gets more confident as time passes and soon he's smiling as he sings and when he's done, the whole team is staring at him with these enraptured smiles.

"Yall good?" He asks slowly.

"Oh we're fine!" Toby reassures. "You just have a really good voice, even without all the spooky siren stuff"

The laugh they share lifts a lot of weight off his shoulders

I had this other idea where he could literally channel so much magic into his voice that he can do something like the canary cry if yall don't know what that is just Google black canary 👍 and basically he could demolish a targeted object/person with just his voice

He... doesn't know about this ability until he accidentally destroys a small row of trees after a particularly loud scream cause he got le ✨stabbed✨

Steve was watching and he just watched the guy who stabbed his friend get blasted back by this invisible force and he's like, "haha neat"

Literally just a straight row of forest going back about 3 yards has been completely demolished

Even douxie seems to have no idea what just happened but he's bleeding out and disoriented so there's no time for questions, just run back to town for a ✨hospital✨

Steve didn't know if it was Douxie's usual magic tricks or... something else

Douxie: I am ✨dying✨

Steve: PLS SOMEONE HELP HES GONE LOOPY

Douxie: if anyone needs to know my blood type is... red. [straight up passes out]

While Douxie's in recovery, Steve tells everyone what happened in the forest and they're all kinda in this shocked silence cause usually if it was normal douxie magic there would've been some sort of blue light involved but Steve confirmed that there was no light it just... happened. There was no visible magic, Douxie just screamed and suddenly half the forest was demolished and the guy who stabbed him was crashing through a dozen a trees

So yeah

I want to clarify also that it's his voice that literally has magical properties and its very difficult to turn off or control so it's a gamble whenever he sings or sometimes even talks but he eventually learns to control it to a degree, and then his friends help him get full control over it!

This is sort of what I imagine Douxie's siren voice to vibe like with the echo and everything and it just be in general very enchanting

Douxie casually breaking out some Disney showtunes but his voice fucking sounds like this. Literally everyone stops to listen cause holy shit

But his singing voice specifically always has magic in it, the echo is just more noticeable depending on how much he's suppressing or feeding the magic

The first time Merlin heard him singing was when Moppet was just vibing, doing chores, and humming a lil tune under his breath but it just started to get this hauntingly enchanting echo the longer he sang and that's when Merlin knew... this boy was different, special, dangerous without the proper guidance

One time moppet was just vibing, singing his lil tune while he cleaned up and without noticing, he accidentally started enchanting items to help him clean up. His voice is literally strong enough to enchant inanimate objects without him even trying

Merlin walks in and goes to start his lecture but Douxie immediately slams a hand over his mouth, the items dropping to the ground, tears pricking at the boy's eyes. Merlin sighs, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hisirdoux, it's okay."

Douxie looks at him, lips pursed into a thin line. For goodness sake the boy didn't even want to speak.

"Hisirdoux, its nothing to be afraid of."

"I wasn't... I wasn't even trying to do that, Master." The boy whispered, clearly trying to shove down his tears.

"I know, you'll get control of it, Hisirdoux. I know you will." Merlin awkwardly pats his shoulder. "You're stronger than you know."

AND THEN

Douxie just had like, this outburst of magic one day and accidentally enchanted people just by speaking to them and he goes running to Merlin to try and tell him what's happening but he doesn't want to speak so it turns into a really long game of charades

Eventually Morgana figures out what he's trying to tell them XD

One time Ms. Janeth heard him singing and she begged him to join the school's musical theater group she didn't care that he wasn't even a student. Douxie politely declined, not wanting to be the reason hundreds of teenagers and parents and teachers were suddenly under a siren spell

So.... yeah!

Siren Douxie my beloved

This will absolutely now be a canon thing for literally all and anything I write that's Douxie related, peace and crackers

#tales of arcadia #toa wizards #wizards tales of arcadia #hisirdoux casperan #moppet!douxie #siren douxie #siren boy #when i was talking about this on discord #someone said that merlin gifted him the lute and i was IMMEDIATELY YES ABOUT IT CAUSE WIZARD DAD #wizard dad #douxie could totally be the lead singer for ash dispersal pattern but he isn't for obvious reasons #so he sticks to guitar

[vixenpen]

Dabi smut with a teacher. Like in some quirkless au or something (He’s scarless but hella pierced and tatted), he had to pick up kid!Shoto one day and he sees his hot black teacher (Sis got thickness and curves for days, even in simple clothes) So he consistently picks up Shoto (even when he doesn’t have to) just to hit on her and when he finally scores a date with her, he’s at his limit after seeing her in casual wear and how amazing her personality is.

I LOVED this request. I had so much fun writing it and the details were amazing! I hope you enjoy

Hot For Teacher (Dabi x Black Reader) Quirkless AU

“Ah, come on kid,” Dabi sighed, expelling a stream of smoke as he waited at the curb for his baby brother to get out of school.

He rolled down the window to air out the car and watched the stream of middle schoolers burst through the double doors and head to their respective busses or cars.

“Shooo,” Dabi groaned, “where are you? I got shit to do, kid.”

He enjoyed hanging out with his youngest sibling, and he had no problem picking the kid up, but he also had a business to help run. If he didn’t get back to the shop in an hour and a half like he’d promised Hawks, he’d get an earful about responsibility and time management and blah, blah, blah.

He leaned back in the driver seat, deciding to give Shoto another fifteen minutes before he texted the kid.

Just then another wave of kids exited the building, Dabi’s bright blue eyes scanned them before landing on the finest woman he’d ever seen in his life.

Her cream colored silk blouse popped beautifully against her rich brown skin and a pair of slacks hugged her wide hips. Her makeup made her dark eyes sparkle and red lipstick painted her pouty mouth.

Dabi sat up, turquoise eyes running up and down that beautiful body of hers as the sexy teacher strutted past to talk to parents and wave good bye to students. When she turned around, his eyes slid down to the fattest ass he’d ever seen and he licked his lips.

Damn it must be hard as hell for her students to concentrate in class.

She turned again and began walking back towards the school. Fuck! If he didn’t stop gawking he would miss his chance. He couldn’t let that happen.

Holding his cigarette between his lips, Dabi quickly stepped out of the car and took leggy strides to catch up with the teacher.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around, her big dark eyes landing on him. Immediately Dabi knew she was sizing him up and wasn’t impressed. She gave that same disapproving teacher look Fuyumi gave whenever she was put off by someone.

Regardless, he flashed her his most charming smile. He may not be a goody two shoes like these other khaki wearing dads out here, but he knew he looked damn better than any of them.

“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I was just hoping you could help me out.”

“Sure,” she smiled back, showing off a pair of pretty white teeth. “Let’s start with that cigarette. It’s against our school policy to be smoking on the premises so if you could.” She cocked a brow expectantly.

Dabi cocked his own pierced brow back in response, but quickly stubbed out his cigarette on a nearby janitor’s cart and threw it away in the accompanying trash can.

Her smile widened. “Great. Now, how can I help you?”

Dabi chuckled. “Well, ya see, I just got this new phone and cleared out all my old contacts. Ya know, new year, new me and all that,” he shrugged, “anyway, my contacts are pretty empty now. So, I was wondering if I could get yours.”

She let out a little snort of amusement.

“That’s your pick up line? How many Girls have had the misfortune of hearing that one?”

“You’d be the first,” Dabi smirked back. “Figured the usual ‘hey beautiful, what’s your name’ line wouldn’t exactly help me stand out.”

“Trust me, you don’t need help standing out.” She replied, eying him again.

“Then that means I’m ahead of the game, right?” He held out a hand, “I’m Dabi.”

Tentatively, the teacher shook it. “Ms. Y/n.”

“Ms. Y/n, huh...” Dabi repeated slowly, his eyes ran over you with a barely masked longing. “Not ‘Mrs’?”

“Not yet.” You replied.

“How soon are you looking to change that?” Dabi asked, his smirk growing a bit smaller and more intimate.

“Who said I was looking to change it at all?”

“Certainly not me,” he replied, “that’s why I asked. I would love to talk more about how much you don’t want to change it over dinner sometime though.”

You fended off a smile. You were not about to give this over confident asshole any encouragement.

“Sorry, but I make it a point not to date my student’s parents.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a parent then.”

“Oh? So you just like to stroll on the campuses of random middle schools and hit on the teachers for fun?”

Dabi chuckled again.

“I’m here to pick up my little brother. Ah, hell, speaking of which, I actually could use your help with that. Kid hasn’t come out yet and I’ve already been here over half an hour.”

Your pretty face immediately crumpled with worry.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Todoroki Shoto.”

“Oh!” You looked surprised. “Shoto. I think I saw him headed towards the baseball field. I think the team has practice today.”

“Dammit! Really? Well, I better go say hi to the kid anyway. You mind, uh, leading the way?”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

Turning, you took the lead and guided Dabi towards the baseball diamond behind the school. You could feel the man’s eyes on your ass the whole way, and couldn’t help but put an extra switch in your hips as you did. Much to his appreciation.

You had to admit the man was fine as hell. The black undercut with lines cut in the side, his multiple piercings and even the colorful tattoos you saw peeking from under his fitted black tshirt were hot as hell. However, you had long since given up on bad boy types. You preferred nerds. Still a little light flirting wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

“There he is.” Dabi stated once the two of you verged on the field. He held up his hands to his mouth and called out: “Yo, Sho!”

The boy looked up, heterochromatic eyes widening in surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had practice today you little half and half?”

“Why don’t you ever check mom’s texts?” Shoto shouted back. “She told you to come later.”

You snickered as Dabi pulled out his phone and checked his text messages.

“Huh. Well I’ll be damned.” He muttered to himself. “Alright, kiddo, I’ll be back in an hour!”

“Can you stop shouting and leave now?! I have to concentrate.”

Dabi laughed before turning back to you.

“Anyway, thanks a lot for your help Ms. Y/n.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Still, I would love to thank you properly. Maybe over coffee.” He said, sounding hopeful.

“Before it was dinner.” You quipped, playfully.

“I know. I‘m just planning for future dates.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It was nice meeting you, Dabi.” With that you turned and strutted off.

“I hope you know I’m gonna keep trying until I get a yes or no.” He called after you.

As you entered the school’s back entrance you could hear Shoto shouting: “Can you please stop hitting on my teachers? I have to see them everyday!”

Unfortunately for Shoto, his plea seemed to go in one overly pierced ear and out the other because almost everyday since then, Dabi made it a point to stop and talk to you when he came to pick up Shoto.

“Hey there, Ms. Y/n. My contacts are filling up fast. You sure you don’t wanna reserve a spot?”

“Sorry Dabi, but my no dating policy extends to immediate family members as well.”

“I hated to cancel our reservations, but you’re left me no choice, Ms. Y/n.”

“Nobody told you to make reservations, Dabi.”

“Dinner was lonely the other day. If only I had a beautiful black queen to keep me company.”

“I’m sure There are plenty of black queens out there that would have loved to accompanying you to dinner.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have been you.”

Dabi was unrelenting. Always complimenting how amazing your outfits looked on your skin tone, how flattering your make up was, or if you wore a new hairstyle or new jewelry.

You couldn’t lie. The attention was both flattering and refreshing. Since becoming a teacher, you usually only got hit on by studious academic types. Attractive yes, but straight laced and all the same with their game

Unfortunately a disturbing amount of married dads also tried their luck with you.

But Dabi was different.

He may have been a far cry from your usual type, but he was always perfectly respectful and even funny. Not to mention he was much closer to your own age than other men that came on to you.

He must have started bribing Shoto for help or asking him about your interests too. Because sometimes when he would see you, he’d have a new book to give you or your favorite iced tea from a cafe you always frequented. Which, admittedly, was pretty damn cute.

The tatted up alt boy was actually growing on you. So one day, when both of you least expected it, you finally agreed to give him your number and go on a date.

That was the first time you ever saw him straight up smile. Not smirk or grin. He actually beamed. Just like a little boy who’d been told he could have a puppy.

Ok, ok. You admit it—he was cute.

Hopefully, that charm would extend over to dinner.

When the big date came, Dabi cleaned himself up. Opting out of his usual dark attire for a deep blue fitted Ralph Lauren polo and skinny khakis. He even took out some of his piercings in an attempt to look more presentable. He thought he cleaned up pretty nice if he did say so himself, but it was nothing compared to what you strutted in wearing.

Dabi had gotten used to your stylish but conservative work attire. He was so used to your hot teacher look, that he forgot you probably had some regular clothes in that amazing wardrobe of yours.

And damn did you pick out the most show stopping dress you had. You wore a wine colored dress that cut low in the front showing off those juicy tits of yours and stopped above the knee. The heels you wore made your thighs look even yummier and your ass was jiggling out of control with every step.

Down boy. Down boy. Down boy.

He scolded himself.

“Well, don’t you clean up nicely, Dabi?” You teased.

“I’m Touya tonight, beautiful.” He struck a pose like a GQ model. You laughed. “Dabi was that guy that kept hitting on you, Touya’s the guy that’s gonna try not to screw it up.

“Oh,” you ran a manicured finger along his solid chest, “well, I agreed to a date with Dabi, but I guess Touya could be fun too.”

Dabi licked his lip, and your eyes fell on his tongue piercing, hungrily.

“Depending on how well the night goes, you might see Dabi come out later tonight.” He replied, suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, but could feel your cheeks (and your pussy) warming.

“Boy! Come on.”

Dabi as Touya opened the door to the restaurant and ushered you inside.

The restaurant he took you to was definitely a high end place; complete with soft candle light, a jazz quartet, and a maître d’.

The chemistry the two of you had definitely translated over dinner.

Dabi was just as funny as he always was and he was genuinely interested in getting to know everything about you. He hung on to your every word about the funny things your students did in class. He enjoyed hearing your college stories. He even knew some of the books you enjoyed reading and could talk literature easily.

You discovered that he was the co-owner of a tattoo and piercing shop. He was the oldest of his siblings. And he enjoyed traveling and learning new things.

Dabi enjoyed vibing with you. He loved that your personality and sense of humor was just as amazing and substantial as that body he wanted a piece of so bad.

Dinner rolled into drinks and lasted well into the night. By the time the two of you were done it was damn near four A.M.

From that night on, you and Dabi became practically inseparable. He picked you up from school right along with Shoto for dinner after work, swung by with coffee, bought you any and everything you wanted (he does come from money after all) and after a year of dating, you became more than just a ‘Ms.’

Pt.2

#dabi x black!reader #dabi x reader #flirting #first dates #bnha fluff #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #dabi scenarios #touya todoroki #mha headcanons #black writers #curvy reader

[absolutepokemontrash]

All Demons are Entitled to Vacation Time (Because The Devildom Isn’t a Dystopia)

Part One (you are here!) Part Two Masterlist

Genuine friends in the Devildom were hard to come by, and the human exchange student had noticed that the brothers had been working her new friend to death, so she decided that the poor bastard needed some time off. The brothers agreed, but come to notice that they may have become a tad dependent on their makeshift assistant’s help.

(Just a heads up, this fic features an OC and my personal MC, so the MC will be using she/her pronouns, if you’re uncomfortable with that, no harm no foul, see you next fic. Anyway, enjoy Paimon’s mental breakdown and the boys being jerks!)

“Do you need anything else, Lord Lucifer?”

“Yes Paimon, get me a coffee.”

“The usual?”

“Yes, and do hurry up, I have work to do.”

Paimon quickly nodded and scampered out of Lucifer’s office at RAD. Sure it was after school, and sure Paimon had other things to do, and sure, he needed to sleep, but when the seven rulers of hell declare you their assistant, you be their fucking assistant.

“Oi!” Paimon felt the back of his uniform get balled up and he braced himself to be thrown into the nearest locker. “Pipsqueak, I need help with my homework.”

“H-hi Lord Mammon, s-sure, when do you want-”

“Nah nah nah,” Mammon spun Paimon around to face him. “I need, ‘help’ with my homework.”

The purple haired demon winced as he rummaged around his backpack and pulled out the assignment that Mammon had neglected to do. “R-remember to change up some words so-”

“I know how to copy homework! I’m not some dunce!” Mammon not so nicely set Paimon free from his 80s movie bully shirt grab and walked off. He whistled some made up tune and sporadically grumbled about finding his missing human.

Cheating on assignments was punishable by hanging from one’s thumbs in the glorified torture chamber known as the detention hall. Paimon had never been down there due to the fact that the place was reserved for the worst troublemakers, but he was pretty sure Mammon was familiar with it. Why didn’t he learn..?

While entranced with his thoughts of torture and mayhem, (see, Paimon could be a demon sometimes) Paimon didn’t notice the Avatar of Envy peeking around the nearest corner and nearly ran right into him.

“S-sorry Lord Leviathan!” Paimon sputtered. Levi’s head swivelled to Paimon as he began to stutter out a reply.

“G-good! You’re here! Get rid of them!”

“Get rid of who..?” Paimon looked around the corner and noticed a group of students just milling about and chatting. “Oh, right away sir.”

This wasn’t the first time Paimon had to do traffic control for Leviathan, and it wouldn’t be his last. He made up some bullshit lie about the hall needing to be cleaned and the students grumbled and slowly filed out. Once the hall was clear, Levi brushed past Paimon without even so much as a thank-you. He mumbled something about sending normies to deal with normies and disappeared down the hall.

Next up on his trip to get Lucifer a coffee, he ran into Satan, thankfully, he didn’t literally run into him.

“Ah, Paimon, give these to Barbatos, last time I saw him he was in the colosseum with Lord Diavolo.” Satan, barely even looking at the poor demon, slapped a huge stack of papers into his arms and strode down the hallway like he didn’t have a care in the world. Shit, and Paimon still had to get Lucifer coffee…

“Ah, there you are Paimon dear,” Paimon needed to muster up all his willpower to not openly roll his eyes as he met the gaze of the cheery Avatar of Lust.

“Lord Asmodeus,” Paimon said blankly. “How may I help you?”

“Take these to Majolish after you’re done… whatever you’re doing. On the double, sil vou plait!” Asmo shoved a massive stack of fabric on top of the paperwork Paimon was holding, causing him to stumble back a bit. “And if any of those touch this disgusting floor, I will personally claw each of your little freckles off your face.”

“Yes sir…” Paimon barely suppressed a growl as Asmo sashayed away from what one could barely call a conversation. As much as Paimon wanted to throw both the fabric and the paperwork into the nearest trash can, Paimon knew that both things could be recycled, and he also valued his life and his freckles.

Maybe he could run to the colosseum on the way to getting Lucifer’s coffee, torture two traitors with one tool, or however the saying goes! Paimon picked up his pace, his vision almost completely obscured by the massive pile of fabric. Despite nearly tripping twice, he made it to the kitchen, started up the coffee maker, then ran to the colosseum to drop off the paperwork.

“Mr. Barbatos?” Paimon’s call for the butler’s attention was cut off by a growl that sent shivers down his spine. Right in the centre of the colosseum the Fangol team was getting into “oh fuck” formation. That could only mean one thing and one thing only… oh no… Lord Beelzebub was hungry… really hungry… who didn’t order snacks?!

“Dammit dammit dammit…” Paimon squeaked as he shifted the paperwork and fabric and rummaged through his bag for his lunch. If Beel didn’t get some sustenance quickly he’d wreck the entire school! “L-Lord Beelzebub?! D-D-Do you want my luh-lunch? Sir?”

Beel’s head swung around to the sound of Paimon’s voice and before he could blink, the Avatar of Gluttony was towering over him. Paimon gulped and held out his lunch bag, and Beel snatched it up and ate the entire thing whole. Well… Paimon needed to replace the lunch bag anyway… and he could always eat later. His stomach growled pitifully. He had made the mistake of skipping lunch…

“Mmm… more.” Beel said, Paimon was still shaking in his designer knockoff school shoes.

“S-sorry, I don’t have anything e-else but the cafeteria has leftovers I think…” Paimon squeaked, Beel nodded and lumbered off towards the cafeteria, his hunger tantrum momentarily halted. Paimon breathed a quick sigh of relief before he heard the sound of someone stirring from a nap next to him.

“Mmph…” Belphegor shot Paimon a glare that only those who just woke up from an hour long nap could. “What took you so long?”

“M-my apologies, Lord Belphegor.” Paimon adjusted his glasses and frowned. “Pardon, but do you know where Mr. Barbatos is?”

“The kitchen, he was making something for Beel.”

Paimon had… he just left the kitchen… damn it. Paimon nodded in thanks and rushed towards the kitchen. The coffee was done, the paperwork was delivered, the fabric hadn’t touched the ground, and Paimon was on his way to give Lucifer his stupid- I mean needed beverage.

He limply pushed open the door to Lucifer’s office with his shoulder and placed the coffee on his desk. Lucifer didn’t look up from his paperwork and raised an eyebrow. “I did say quickly, didn’t I?”

Paimon bit down on his lip, a tic developed under his left eye and he clenched his fists until he felt blood trickle from his palms. “S-sorry, Lord Lucifer. I’ll do better next time, sir.”

“You’re dismissed, Paimon.”

The moment those words left Lucifer’s lips, Paimon turned on his heel and walked right out of the office. He was done, so tired and… and so angry! He just wanted to relax, he just wanted to relax. Paimon’s feet led him to the concert hall. Ah, he was supposed to be the president of the school’s band, not the student council’s resident doormat. He could just call on his undead parade and play some music… that always kept him calm.

His thoughts of relaxation were brought to an abrupt halt the moment Paimon felt the sting of recent magic in the air around the hallway that led to the concert hall. Oh no, please tell him there wasn’t a fight near the concert hall, please tell him-

Two of his band members were in their true forms and hurling insults at each other. Phenex and Eurynome were standing in the midst of a completely destroyed concert hall, the instruments were scattered around the room, dented and completely broken… the two brawling demons paused when they noticed Paimon at the door.

“Prez! You won’t believe this shit! Someone vandalized our stuff, and Phenex’s accusing me!”

“Paimon! You hafta believe me! I walked in and Eury was-”

Their voices had become unintelligible background noise, Paimon’s eyes were glued to the destroyed instruments, his instruments… he felt his shoulders shake and his chest begin to tighten. Why… why!? Why him?! Why today?! Paimon dropped the fabric and his backpack onto the ground and slowly dug his partially bloodied palms into his hair. To his absolute horror, he felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Don’t cry- Don’t cry! He can’t cry!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHGHGGHHHHH!” Paimon let out a screech like a wounded animal, he felt his true form beg to be released so he could wreak absolute havoc on everyone and everything in a mile radius, but he yanked down on his hair and brought himself back to reality.

“Paimon?” The demon in question slowly turned, the human exchange student herself awkwardly stood a few feet behind him, seeming to not be sure exactly what to do. “Are… are you okay..?”

“Y-yes…” Paimon mumbled, his fists began to shake. “Th-thank you Ms. Himiko but I’m fi-”

Paimon’s voice broke and Himiko fixed the other two demons behind him with a glare that could probably kill a man. “YOU TWO. Clean this up right now!”

Before he could react, Himiko pulled Paimon into an empty classroom and slammed the door behind her. “Pai, what happened? Do you need to sit down?”

“Nuh-ne-no! I-I-if i suh-sit down I’ll fu-fall aslee-eep…” Paimon awkwardly hiccuped. Trying to talk through the lump in his throat was proving to be very difficult.

“Paimon… do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Himiko’s voice was oddly gentle, almost sisterly in a way as she sat Paimon down in one of the desks in the room. “I’m here to listen.”

“Thanks Ms. Himiko… sorry…” and with that, Paimon began to explain.

———————

“BOYS!”

The scream of rage was punctuated by the slamming of the front door of the House of Lamentation and the angry clicking of heels going towards the living room. Six of the seven rulers of hell sat dead straight in their chairs, geez this little human had really whipped them good.

“Stupid human! Let go of my ear-yeeeeeeOW! Sorry! Sorry! Have mercy, tiny overlord-” Mammon was dragged into the living room by the ear and shoved onto one of the couches. She let her glare rest on each and every one of the demons before she spoke again.

“So, Asmo,” Himiko turned to Asmo with a calm smile, but the Avatar of Lust was anything but calm. “You think you’re too good to deliver your own fabric to the place where you work?”

“Uh… what are you talking about Himi?”

“Paimon! You told him to deliver your fabric to Majolish!” Himiko then turned to Mammon, who was already looking for an opportune time to bolt to the exit. “Mammon! You took his homework to copy, didn’t you!?”

“I-uh-”

“Satan!” Himiko stamped her foot and swivelled to glare at the relatively calm Avatar of Wrath. “You can’t just dump your paperwork on him like that!”

“Himiko-”

“CRAM IT!” Satan’s mouth clamped shut and he levelled an absolutely murderous glare at the human, but remained seated. “Levi! What the hell’s the matter with you!? Did anyone ever teach you that it’s polite to say THANK YOU?!”

Levi awkwardly shifted in his seat and sputtered out a barely intelligible reply, but Himiko was already turning to Beel and Belphie.

“Belphie! Beel! What the fuck were you two on during Fangol practice?!” Belphie grumpily lifted his head from his pillow and Beel mumbled out an apology. “Beel! You cannot just throw your hunger tantrums whenever you don’t have food handy, I thought you had enough common sense to realize that the kitchen wasn’t that far from the colosseum! And Belphie! Why didn’t you pack snacks for Beel like you were supposed to!?”

“Himiko why the fuck are you so upset about-”

“Shut UP.” Belphie was in the same boat as Satan in a matter of nanoseconds, the Avatar of Sloth rolled his eyes and went back to resting his head on his pillow.

“And you, Lucifer, the eldest and best of the bunch.” Himiko’s words were laced with enough poison to take down a fully grown grizzly bear as she stared down Lucifer with a glare cold enough to snuff out a fire. “I have one question: would it kill you to show some appreciation to the people who help you? A thank you? An appreciative nod? Or is your head rammed so far up your own ass you’ve forgotten basic courtesy?”

In a blink of an eye Lucifer was standing in front of Himiko. He was a good foot taller than her even in his human form, but she looked right back up at him with zero fear.

“Care to repeat that, Himiko?” Lucifer’s words were as sharp as a razor, he narrowed his eyes when Himiko didn’t even flinch. “If I were you, I’d choose your next words very carefully.”

“Or what?” Himiko asked, tilting her head slightly. “You’re going to try and kill me again?”

The room went completely still. It was so silent that they could hear Cerberus rustling around in the Underground Tomb. No one said a word as Himiko casually smoothed down her skirt. “You know what they say, third times the charm. Are you going to listen to me or are you going to explain to Diavolo why I’m a bloody smear on the wall?”

Lucifer held her gaze for a few more seconds, until he sighed and sat back down, still not breaking eye contact with the human. “What do you want, Himiko?”

“I want you all to give Paimon a week off, or, you pay him to be your actual assistant. Putting up with you boys’ crap should be a full paying job.” Himiko raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Give him a week off, live without him for a bit, and treat him nicer when he comes back. Unless of course, the seven rulers of hell can’t survive without their assistant?”

Lucifer bristled and crossed his arms. “…fine.”

———————

Sleep went by too quickly… way too quickly. Paimon rubbed his eyes and trudged through the hallway. Stupid mondays… stupid school… stupid Mammon… wait did Paimon say that out loud, because the Avatar of Greed and Lucifer himself were standing right in front of him.

“Sup pipsqueak.”

“Hello Paimon.”

Oh, Paimon must have fucked up bad somehow for the Avatar of Pride and the Avatar of Greed to have stopped him in the hallway. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. The sweet release of death was coming. But what exactly had Paimon done? Was talking to the human exchange student a punishable offence?!

“Lord Lucifer! Lord Mammon! Uh… how can I help you?” Paimon smiled nervously, at this point, nervous was his default state, so this was his normal smile.

“Ya can help us by handin’ over your lunch mon-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Mammon,” the signature clicking of Himiko’s heels on the stone floor alerted the three demons to her arrival before her voice did. “Stop being a douche.”

“We’re here to offer you a week off.” Lucifer ignored both Himiko and Mammon and kept his eyes fixed on Paimon. “Himiko noticed you were five seconds away from a stress induced heart attack so she campaigned for you to get some time off.”

“I-I-I’m fine, that’s very nice of you to offer but I’m coping well with my extra duties.”

Extra duties, also known as ‘nice things Paimon was doing for a group of demons he respected, which those demons then began to expect him to do all the damn time.’

“Paimon,” Himiko raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You’re left arm is shaking.”

Paimon silently cursed his stupid arm. “Those are normal shakes!”

“Fuck dude… I don’t even like ya and I want you to take a vacation.”

“Consider it less of an offer and more of an order.” Lucifer said sternly. “Take the week off and come back refreshed. Your school responsibilities will be waived during your time off, now shoo.”

Lucifer waved his hand and strode past him down the hallway. Geez, what a charmer.

“Have fun, Paimon!” Himiko gave him a wave before gesturing Mammon to follow her, class was starting soon after all.

“Th-thank you Ms. Himiko.” Paimon mumbled and began to turn to leave, but Mammon caught the back of his school coat. Huh, a goodbye locker shove perhaps?

“Before ya leave,” Mammon cooed. “What’re ya doin’ with my human?”

“I’m not doing… anything?” Paimon said truthfully.

“Plannin’ on doing anything?”

“N-no?”

“Are ya sure?” Mammon tilted his head, his eyes began to glow dangerously. “Not planning on trying anything?”

“No sir!” Paimon began to wave his hands in an attempt to communicate some extra ‘NO’. “N-not at all! Ms. Himiko’s just a friend!”

Mammon raised an eyebrow and Paimon felt his stomach drop right to the floor. Apparently talking to the human exchange student was a death sentence. Wasn’t the point of this exchange program for demons and humans to get to know each other???

“Really now? How’d you two get to talkin’?”

“I-I uh, she um…” Paimon stuttered. “She swore me to secrecy…”

After blinking a few times in surprise, Mammon dropped Paimon right to the floor. “Alrighty then, I’ll just ask ‘er myself.”

Mammon then sauntered away like nothing happened. Geez… Paimon silently made a wish that Himiko could swallow her pride and actually admit the reason the two became friends so Paimon wouldn’t end up getting his ass handed to him by the Avatar of Greed himself. What a shit way to go…

————

Himiko gave Mammon a glare that could wither roses the moment he began to pepper her with questions about her friendship with Paimon. Geez, couldn’t a lady have some friends who didn’t want to date her? Was that too much to ask?

She let out a sigh and looked around to make sure that she and Mammon were alone in her room and that there was no one walking around in the hallway outside. Good, nobody. “Mammon, Paimon and I exchange gardening tips.”

Mammon blinked a few times and debated pinching himself to see if he was dreaming. His mean little human liked something like gardening..? That was… that was… so fuckin’ adorable! “You… you like gardening..? Really Himi?”

Himiko’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment, which really hindered the effect of her scowl. “Yes. In case you didn’t know, the plants here are very different from the plants in the human world, and I miss having a garden, so,” she gestured to the window out into the HOL’s garden where Mammon noticed quite a few new flower bushes. He had to admit, they were really pretty.

“Oh, so you two aren’t smoochin’ or anything?”

“Mammon,” Himiko smirked and fluttered her eyelashes. “Just because you’re hopelessly in love with me doesn’t mean everyone else is~.”

————

The moment Paimon stepped foot into his apartment he collapsed onto the couch like a… like a… tired person. The man hadn’t had a proper staycation in almost a thousand years, give him a break.

When he was done being a lump on the couch, he looked up at his plants. He hadn’t properly been able to look at them for a while- shit almost all of them were dead. Perhaps Paimon should have invested in a nice garden of cacti instead of fussy water-needing plants. Oh well, he had things to worry about other than his failing garden. His apartment was also a complete mess. After defeating his chronic anxiety by going on a massive cleaning spree, Paimon decided that he had a hankering for some sweets. He ordered in from Madame Scream’s and collapsed back onto the couch.

His pastries arrived and he was fully prepared to dig in until- A knock on the door startled Paimon from his stress free thoughts and the demon rushed to answer the door. The familiar faces of Mephistopheles and Satan awaited him.

“Hey buddy!” Mephisto gave Paimon a friendly (and a little too hard) thwack on the shoulder and walked into the apartment. “I smell foooooooood!”

“Paimon,” Satan flashed a grin and a friendly nod.

“L-lord Satan,” Paimon nodded dumbly, after registering what he was seeing, he stepped aside and let Satan into the apartment, thank fuck he had cleaned it. “What are… what are you doing here? Do you need me to do anything?”

“No, no,” Satan waved Paimon off. “I heard you and Mephisto were trying to solve a mystery and I thought I’d offer my help.”

“Oh! Thank you!” Paimon sputtered, he then turned to his pie, that Mephisto was busily shovelling into his mouth. Mephistopheles gave Paimon and Satan a thumbs up.

“S’great Pai!” Mephisto laughed at his own pun.

The mystery Satan was referring to was the mystery of the vandalized instruments. Paimon had asked Mephisto to help look into it, he was the former president of the newspaper club and had a penchant for getting into trouble and finding people responsible for trouble. It was a last resort kind of thing, really, Mephisto and Paimon never really spoke outside of their few shared classes.

“O-okay, did you guys find anything out..? Do you need me to answer any questions?” Paimon asked, sitting down at his tiny dining table across from Mephisto and Satan.

“We didn’t find much out today, suspect, but we do have some things we’d like to know.” Mephisto pointed a pie-filling covered finger at Paimon. “How do we know it wasn’t you who vandalized the instruments?! I can see the headline now! ‘Band president vandalizes instruments, Mephistopheles hailed as hero and reinstated as newspaper club president!’ I love it!”

“E-eh?!” Paimon jumped backwards in his seat, nearly knocking himself right onto the floor. “Wh-what?! Why would I do that?”

“That’s what I wanna know!” Mephisto slammed his sticky hands down on the table and leaned across to look Paimon right in the face. “Why’d you do it?!”

Satan grabbed the back of Mephisto’s shirt and yanked him back into his seat and gave Paimon an apologetic look. Ah, good cop bad cop, that was the game they were playing.

“Paimon, do you have an alibi?” Satan asked, his tone measured. Paimon meekly nodded.

“Y-yes, technically my alibi is you and your brothers, sir… I was busy all day, and that morning was the last time I saw the instruments before they were wrecked.”

“Mmm, just as I thought,” Satan nodded. “Paimon, does the band have any enemies you know of?”

“N-no,” Paimon said on reflex. “Wait! Yeah… um… a few demons… I have a list…”

He quickly began to write out a list of names. For someone who seemed so meek and pathetic, he had made a lot of enemies… well, less a list of enemies and more of a list of people who found it fun to bother him.

Satan raised an eyebrow as he looked over the list. “Paimon, how?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“How does a high ranking demon like yourself have this many petty enemies that you haven’t dealt with yet?”

A shrug was all Paimon could give. He preferred not to hurt people due to petty grudges, which was not a very good trait for a demon to have. No wonder no one respected him…

Satan huffed and nodded to Mephisto. “Well, we’ll look into these leads. Try and have a nice week off, Paimon.”

—————

Day One:

Lucifer needed his coffee, he sat up in his chair and leaned over to look at the clock, 3:30 pm. Paimon should be- ah, right, Lucifer gave him the week off. No matter, he rose from his seat and prepared to get his own coffee. He was a strong independent demon who didn’t need an assistant thank you very much.

When he walked into the kitchen, he nearly choked on air when he saw the technological monstrosity that was the new coffee machine. It had to be new, he had gone into the kitchen all the time to make his own coffee, hadn’t he? No, Paimon had taken care of that for the past how many years..? Geez, when was the last time Lucifer actually had to walk into RAD’s kitchen?

It’s just a coffee machine, Lucifer reasoned, he’d be able to figure it out in no time.

Riddle him this, why did this infernal thing have so many buttons?! The machine let out an unhappy groan and Lucifer was tempted to repeat the sound himself. Stupid coffee machine… back in his day coffee was made with magic, sure it exhausted the person more but… that’s what the coffee’s for!

After about twenty minutes of nearly fruitless labour, Lucifer finally figured out how to get the machine to make coffee to his tastes. He’d throw the machine at the wall if it made him decaf…

Lucifer (eventually) returned to his office and his massive stack of paperwork with his hot mug of caffeinated salvation and sat back down at his desk. His mind began to wander back to the conversation he had with Himiko the day prior.

Had he forgotten basic courtesy? He had known Paimon longer than Himiko could probably comprehend, was Paimon always this willing to get walked over? Lucifer wracked his brain trying to find the answer. He grimaced when he thought back to his time as an angel, but even then, Paimon was the same. A constantly frazzled Dominion who fell from heaven only to end up a frazzled and even more anxious demon.

It was so odd, when they all first became demons, Paimon was one of the large amount who decided that the best way to figure out their new demonic identities was to cause complete and utter chaos. It was an embarrassment, really, but Diavolo knew that no one could get that number of newly turned demons under control without ripping apart the Devildom, so he sent them up to the human world. It was devastating for the humans, but Diavolo knew it was necessary to save his kingdom. While up in the human world, everyone’s powers were tested and the pecking order if you will, was established. Paimon was right near the top.

One of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, one that watched kingdoms burn for his amusement just mere days after falling from grace, had become nothing more than an assistant. When and why? That was what Lucifer was wondering.

Tsk, he didn’t have time to wonder about the motivations of his little fake assistant, he had way too much work to do. He downed his coffee and stared down his paperwork. He was going to do this himself, or collapse from exhaustion trying.

——————

Day 2:

Mammon mindlessly gnawed on his pencil as he stared down at his homework. He was stuck in the library at RAD and couldn’t go home until his stupid work was done. His human had gone off with Asmo to go shopping… dummy… not that he cared or anything…

He needed help, but the great Mammon didn’t grovel! Wait, yes he did. But he usually didn’t have to when it came to his homework. That little nerd Paimon was always down to let Mammon copy his homework. Sure, if Lucifer even dared to ask if Paimon had let Mammon copy his homework, the purple haired demon would sing like a canary. Stupid little snitch….

…Mammon could have really used that little snitch right then…

He searched his mind for anything to daydream about to distract himself from the lame homework. Ah! His human! He liked to think about his human. Her cute little smile… her deep dark eyes… her soft hair that tumbled over her shoulders… her dumb but still somehow cute little headband…

Not that he liked her or anything! Uggggghhhh… this was going to be a long ass study session…

——————

How did things get this way..?

Paimon was once again lying face down on his couch, apparently cleaning only temporarily staved off his mental illness. At least he was spiralling in a clean house…

His concert hall got completely wrecked and his status wasn’t a deterrent to the stupid vandals… Paimon could and had crushed kingdoms beneath his heel! He’d sown discord across entire countries! Humans and demons alike begged to have the privilege of his favour, and now, nothing. Paimon hugged his knees to his chest and tried to ignore the feeling of his glasses digging into the side of his face. The tightness in his chest and gut was indicative of one thing:

Guilt.

Paimon was guilty. After being called back to the Devildom and seeing what he had done to the human world, he felt the worst most roiling and disgusting sense of guilt. He was completely alone, if any other demon that went up there and did the things he did felt guilty about any of it, they were amazing at hiding it. He had been an angel just a few days before he went completely ballistic…

Was his behaviour for the past thousand years some sort of bullshit atonement for him? Tsk, he didn’t have time to give himself a therapy session. He needed to go to sleep. He earned it, after all.

——————

Day 3:

Levi absentmindedly tapped his phone screen, the colourful gacha game was completely failing to fully entrap his attention. Ugh… just get the daily rewards and log out…

A crowd of chattering students walked into the formerly empty classroom to sit and eat lunch. Stupid normies… whenever he had to show up to school he at least had the ability to eat lunch by himself.

It was Paimon’s doing, obviously. After hearing that Levi was having a tough time being at RAD, the demon took it upon himself to make Levi more comfortable. After the first few times, Levi enlisted him as his personal crowd disperser.

He often wandered the halls during lunch making sure everything was alright like the world’s most anxious hall monitor. Whenever Levi happened to notice the sound of Paimon’s feet pattering against the stone floor, it was usually followed by Paimon’s meek little voice telling some wandering students that the classroom was occupied.

Tsk, dumb normie on his dumb vacation. Levi huffed and slid his headphones on to drown out the sound of the other students talking.

Paimon needed to hurry up and get baaaaaaaaaaack…

—————

Day Four:

“Alright, the scene of the crime…” Satan placed his hands on his hips and looked around the concert hall. The Avatar of Wrath had let Mephisto loose on Phenex and Eurynome for questioning. Satan now had the crime scene all to himself for investigating.

Most of the instruments were dented and ruined, hm… maybe he should have viewed the crime scene earlier when it was fresher. Man… all the fictional detectives Satan knew of would be so disappointed in him. Not perturbed, Satan began to peruse the room and take it all in. Well, until Asmo broke down the door shouting his name.

“Saaaaaaaataaaaaaaan!”

“I’m right here, Asmo, you don’t need to yell.” Satan turned and gave him an annoyed look. Asmo only beamed and clapped his hands together.

“No need to be so snide, Satan dear, I’m gracing you with my presence!” Asmo cartoonishly pouted as he almost skipped towards Satan. He looped his arm around Satan’s and began to try and pull him out of the room. “Come on! We’re going to have a self care day!”

“No, no we’re not.” Satan gently removed Asmo’s arm from his and shook his head. “I’m trying to solve a mystery, here.”

“Really?” Asmo raised an eyebrow and absentmindedly twirled a lock of hair with his finger. “Why? Isn’t this Paimon’s business?”

“Yeah, but Paimon asked Mephisto for help and Mephisto asked me, so here I am.” Seeing that Asmo wasn’t convinced, Satan dragged a hand down his face and prayed to the Demon King that his gossip of a brother could keep a secret. “There are no exams to study for, my favourite detective book series just ended, and Lucifer just rehomed a cat I took in. I have nothing else to do and I’m bored as hell.”

Asmo wrinkled his nose, then shrugged and nodded. “Eh, legit enough for me. I’ll help too!”

The two somewhat carefully rummaged around the room, searching for literally any kind of evidence that wasn’t destroyed in the fight between Phenex and Eury.

“Tada~ evidence!” So quickly? Satan had to stop himself from sighing as he turned to face his brother. Asmo proudly presented what looked like a neon orange fake nail, Satan crossed his arms and gave his brother a deadpan stare.

“Groundbreaking.”

“Satan, for a detective you can be really dense sometimes, I swear.” Asmo huffed and fixed his hair. “People who play musical instruments keep their nails short. Fake nails like these are expensive and are stuck onto the actual nail and sealed with magic. This obviously came off by accident, and it doesn’t belong to some band kid.”

“It belongs to the culprit then…” Satan murmured, digging through his pockets for his list of suspects. “Asmo, tell me, does anyone on this list have these kinds of nails?”

Asmo scanned the list of suspects and hummed to himself before snapping his fingers and grinning. “Only Amii would wear something as garish as that.”

Ah, one of RAD’s resident assholes. Amii and their partner in crime, Murmur, were frequent visitors to the detention hall due to their rampant idiocy. Their combined ability to learn absolutely nothing from their past punishments rivalled Mammon’s, and that was saying something because Mammon had gotten strung up at least once a month for the past two thousand years.

So, the little bastards had taken to bothering Paimon recently… perfect! Mystery solved!

Satan scratched his chin, then grinned. “I think we’ve found our culprits. Thanks Asmo, you were a real help.”

“It’s no problem Satan, really, you can repay me by keeping me company while we both have a nice spa day.”

————

Spending time rethinking one’s entire life and trying to cultivate a garden really sapped up Paimon’s energy. He wasn’t lying down on the couch this time though, his new breakdown spot was his kitchen table.

As he expressed to himself multiple times, he was sick and tired of being walked over, he may have hated being a demon, but he still was one. A damn high ranking one at that! He wasn’t some midranking Dominion anymore! He should be treated with basic respect!

The sudden ringing of his phone jolted him from his mini identity/respect crisis and he fumbled to pick it up.

“H-hello?”

“Paimon, you’ll be pleased to know that I have found the culprits.” Satan’s voice rang out from the phone and Paimon let out a sigh of relief. “Though, Amii and Murmur aren’t on school property at the moment.”

“Y-yeah…” Paimon was too emotionally drained to act surprised. “I think they’re on an overnight trip or something… they’ll be back on Monday.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I uh… I checked the budget documents you sent out at the start of the year to make sure no one was skimming funds again…” Paimon pursed his lips and sighed. “Remember what happened last year? I wanted to make sure Mammon didn’t cause you any extra trouble.”

“Ah, right.” Satan said. “Thanks for that.”

A genuine thank you! Paimon’s eyes practically sparkled as he nodded enthusiastically before realizing Satan couldn’t technically see him. “Y-you’re welcome!”

“So, I know it’s your club but this is also RAD property and I assume you know how much musical instruments are to replace…”

“Yeah… rest assured, I’ll deal with those two.” Paimon mumbled.

“Hm, I’d like to be there, if you don’t mind.”

You see, that was code for ‘I’m going to watch you to make sure you’re not just going to give them a lecture on not hurting other people’s feelings.’

“It’s no problem, Lord Satan.” Paimon said. “Come by if you have the time after school. I’ll put on a show.”

——————

Day Five:

Asmo was practically skipping through RAD’s hallways like he was following the yellow brick road or something. What had him so chipper? Some of his friends in the sewing club had agreed to help him sew some of his clothing designs and make them legitimately wearable! EEEEEEEE! He was so excited! He threw open the doors to the club and everyone… did not shower him with affection and praise. Pardon but what was this bullshit?

“Sorry Lord Asmodeus… but we’re in a bit of a crisis. Some of the sewing machines broke and we don’t have any way to replace them right now.” One of the club members said.

“How’d this even happen?!” Asmo huffed. “The sewing club never shuts down! There was a miniature hurricane going through RAD about a century ago and literally none of you skipped your club meeting!”

“W-well, normally we’d call Paimon to order some new machines or call a repairman because the student council usually gets really busy around this time of day…”

“UGH.” Asmo threw his head back and dramatically groaned. “Are there any machines in here that actually work?”

“Y-yes, about three of them…”

The demon pointed to three in the back and Asmo stomped over to begin sewing the one outfit he could do. He had bought nice fabrics and everything…

Asmo pulled out his sketch of the design, he smiled and set it down next to the sewing machine. He remembered how to use these… right?

‘Paimon usually fixes this’ ‘Paimon deserves a break’ ‘Paimon Paimon Paimon’ Asmo had to stop himself from openly rolling his eyes whenever that little pipsqueak’s name was mentioned. The Avatar of Lust had the stinking suspicion that the bespectacled demon wasn’t particularly fond of him. Everyone loved Asmo, that was a known fact, but Paimon had a funny way of showing it.

He never went exactly out of his way to help Asmo with anything. If Asmo requested help, it was always met with a cold ‘yes lord Asmodeus’. Hmph, Asmo had to hold back a bit of a smirk as a thought crept into his mind.

Paimon’s behaviour was truly a testament to how hard the Avatar of Lust is to get over~.

—————

Ready? Okay! The first step to becoming a respected demon was fixing the way he was perceived by others, and people mainly made their judgements on outward appearances.

Paimon was going to fix his self image! No more dorky glasses! Wait… he couldn’t see… damn. Okay, get contact lenses instead! Aaaaaaand he was out of those. New plan, the dorky glasses were staying on for the time being!

Hmmm… maybe he should flatten down his weird little crescent moon shaped Ahoge… Yeah, not going to happen. His hair kept flying right back up no matter how much hairspray he used.

Looking into his bathroom mirror, Paimon wondered how long it had been since he actually fussed over his appearance. 400… 500 years? Geez, that lined up awfully well with the last time he had been on a date… and that ‘relationship’ did not end well.

Oh well, he looked… well he looked like himself. That was fine. He just needed to fix his posture really quick-

The audible crack of Paimon’s spine may have scared his neighbour’s cat and caused the neighbour on his other side to wonder why their hellhound started barking, but at least he was standing up straight again. It was nice not to be slouched forward like the world’s most nervous Igor. Paimon stretched and shook out his shoulders. Huh, he forgot he was supposed to be 5’7 and not 5’5. He should have done this a while ago.

——————

The Weekend:

School was out for the next two days but the student council was still in the stupid building. Lord Diavolo had decided that the school year needed yet another festival week and it was up to the student council to budget, manage, and plan this entire thing, and to top off the sundae of stress, two of their members were missing.

Beel and Belphie were on the complete opposite side of the school, and their dear little human was having a hell of a time dragging them to the meeting. This was Himiko’s reward for not being an asshole.

“Beel, for the love of all things good in the world, I’m sure there will be snacks provided at the meeting, now get your face out of the fridge.” The long suffering Himiko practically begged. The attic nap club were stuck in the cafeteria despite the borderline desperate efforts of the human.

“You can’t know that for sure…” Beel sighed mournfully before he took another bite of whatever eldritch horror those demons called food. “Paimon or Barbatos would usually bring the snacks and neither of them are here…”

Foolishly hoping that the younger of the two twins would be able to do something, Himiko turned to Belphie, who was passed out with his head down on a cafeteria table.

“Belphie, wake up and help me get Beel out of the cafeteria.”

“No. I am asleep.”

“Belphie I swear-”

“Sh. Sleep.”

Beel usually carried Belphie’s unconscious ass to those stupid meetings because Beel knew for a fact there’d be snacks there, and now neither twin would move from the cafeteria. Great. Time to use the pacts Himiko worked so hard to obtain.

This. This was what it was like to be the one master to rule them all. It was glorified babysitting.

“BOTH OF YOU HAUL ASS TO THE ASSEMBLY HALL RIGHT NOW. BRING THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE WITH YOU.”

Monday couldn’t come soon enough…

——————

To be concluded!

Author’s Note: Not too satisfied with this one, but honestly when am I ever satisfied with my own writing? Pai will go politely apeshit next part I promise

TFW you’re royalty and the local brown-noser goes on vacation and you now have no one to boss around :/ totally relatable right guys?

#obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me shall we date #obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me MC #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me OC #Obey me fic

[sweeethinny]

Everything will be alright

this story is going to be about missed abortion, I know it's a sensitive topic, so if you don't feel comfortable with it, I don't recommend reading this story. Missed abortion is when the fetus is not expelled, remaining in the uterus for weeks or months, and there are some possible reactions, like bleeding or disappearance of normal pregnancy reactions - like nausea

i know it's not usually possible to hear the baby's heart in the first few months, but i believe that magical obstetrics is much more evolved than ours :)

I was inspired by real stories to write this story, and I hope you like it <3

To the Anon who asked me for this <3

music indication: Sing of the Time - Harry Style

AO3

---------

They weren't trying to have a baby, they had been talking about trying two years from now, but Ginny wasn't going to say she wasn't at least a little excited when she found out she was pregnant.

It was scary, she and Harry were silent for almost fifteen minutes staring at the muggle tests and the orange potion in front of them, both of them sitting on the floor of the small bathroom in their apartment. Ginny cried when Harry said, 'We'll be parents.'

She was happy, but first of all, Ginny was feeling desperate. They had just gotten married, and had probably gotten pregnant on their honeymoon, Harry had been promoted and was traveling more than ever and she had managed to sign a five-year contract with the Harpies as Chaser, moving from being a reserve to being the most new star of the team.

They didn't have the time and were not prepared to have a child.

Teddy had just turned three and Ginny thought how difficult it was being to have time with him, trying to make the day last longer so that at least three days a week they saw each other, or when they couldn't, he would go there at the end of week. They couldn't do that with a baby, one of them would have to give up to stay home, and Ginny felt awful for hoping that person was Harry.

She didn't want to stay home, not when her life had just started.

And she knew that Harry thought so too.

But deep down, she was happy, and she was happy to see how happy Harry was. He even bought a baby outfit the next day that was patterned with several bears; panda, brown and polar. It was the most adorable thing Ginny had ever seen.

"We'll make it work, I promise," Harry whispered to her one night, a week after they found out about the pregnancy. He kissed her forehead and hugged her, making her feel safe as all those insecurities spilled over again and Ginny started to cry.

They didn't tell anyone, it was too early yet and Ginny thought it would be best to hold back this information for a while, just in case something went wrong. But she and Harry started to walk around the children's stores much more than usual, now and then buying a teddy bear, an outfit, a shoe, they even considered buying a crib, but she said there was no way to hide a crib and if anyone came by surprise at their house, they would have to tell.

And her father would probably want to build one for his first grandson, Ginny thought.

As the days went by, Ginny became more excited about the news, nothing to overcome her anxiety and nervousness, but she was already happier than when she found out. She even started talking to her stomach when she was going to take a shower, and that encouraged Harry to do the same.

"Daddy and Mommy love you so much already," he whispered before the fateful night, lying with his head on top of Ginny's bare stomach, smoothing her skin and smiling passionately.

And the next morning, Ginny faced what would be the worst day of her life for a long time.

It was almost five in the morning when she woke up thinking she was going to wet her bed for the third time that night, running to the bathroom still half-drowsy, trying not to trip over their mess strewn across the floor. They needed to clean the house urgently.

For Ginny it was a normal dawn, she had been feeling this urge to pee more often now, and she was glad that at least that was it instead of the morning sickness from before. It was harder to hide when she threw up than when she needed to go to the bathroom.

She needed to tell Gwenog, she remembered too.

She would do it today, they had practice at eight and Ginny would talk to her as soon as she got to the field. Afterwards, she would stop at the burrow, because she was missing her mum's hug and eating her biscuits with tea. And thinking about Molly made Ginny's eyes water for some reason. She was getting pretty emotional these past few days.

When her bladder seemed to deflate completely and Ginny cleaned herself up, she screamed much louder than would be respectable at this time of morning. But it didn't matter, she couldn't even hear her voice properly, nor Harry's as he ran to the bathroom, because her hand shook and her vision began to blur with tears, the paper in front of her now smeared with blood.

The sight of her blood-spattered thighs and panties made her scream even more. It was an endless nightmare and Ginny hoped she would manage to wake up in the end.

But she didn't wake up. She didn't wake up when she arrived at the hospital, nor when the healers took her to a room and laid her on the gurney, asking Harry several questions once they realized that Ginny couldn't answer.

She felt paralyzed, still seeing the blood on the paper and wondering how she was able to let this happen. It was a nightmare that seemed to take her closer and closer to the dark at the bottom of the well, and Ginny was reminded of when she thought that a child was not what she wanted now.

Now there were no more children to disturb her dreams. There was no one else stopping her.

Are you happy, Ginevra? She screamed to herself, not even knowing how she still managed to cry.

It felt like a century had passed when the healer Lana took her hand, a kind smile on her face. ‘Let's take you to the exam room, ok? Let's see how the baby is going.'

Ginny nodded, and again she tried to close her eyes so the nightmare would end, but when she opened it, she saw Harry beside her, holding hands with her as someone pushed her gurney down the hospital corridor, the white walls made everything even sadder.

"It'll be alright, I promise," Harry whispered as they entered the exam room, which was dark and cold, even more so than the rest of the building. But Ginny knew, she felt, that it wouldn't be, so she cried more.

“We're going to apply a balm to your belly so we can hear the baby.” She heard the woman say, and for the next minute after feeling something cold touch her belly, they didn't hear anything.

It was as if the whole world had fallen apart and Ginny had been buried under the rubble.

Worst pain of her life, forget tortures with the Carrows or Umbridge, that silence was worse than anything.

It probably hurt more than dying, Ginny thought, wishing she were dead.

She didn't remember much of what happened afterward, only that Harry never left her side, crying along with Ginny when they returned to the room and the healer came out to call someone. She remembered hearing them say they needed to remove the fetus. Her baby.

"I'm here," Harry whispered sometime during the day, sitting beside Ginny's bed, running a hand through her hair and kissing her temple.

"I killed him, Harry." Ginny sobbed, squeezing his hand and starting to cry again. ‘I thought I didn't want to have a child, I thought that-’

"No, Gin, no." As he managed, he hugged her, keeping her safe in his arms. “It wasn't you, no, no… The doctor said it could have been several things, but none of them were you.” He ran a hand through her hair, tightening his grip as she sobbed into his chest again. 'It was not you.'

The next few hours were the saddest of her life, being taken to and fro for exams, healers touching her... her belly, her vulva. And not that they were rude or anything, they were all very polite and they talked about every little thing they were doing to her, always asking her how she felt and always allowing Harry to be by her side. But it was the pain of having someone touch you, she thought, to prepare you for what could be the worst moment in your life; they were touching Ginny preparing her to pull her dead baby out of her, and it hurt so much more than she could ever put it into words.

'It's a potion to get us to induce an abortion, you can rest assured that we'll do everything to make this moment the least painful for you, alright?' Healer Amy smiled at her, a gentle and sad smile, her hands on over Ginny's. She didn't think she would have any other pain that surpassed what she was already feeling, so she nodded, unable to speak. The woman looked at the other healer, who handed over a vial of bluish liquid, and Harry helped Ginny sit down to drink.

It tasted like death, bitter and iron, and it made Ginny want to throw up, but maybe it was just because she knew why that potion worked that she felt even more disgust.

To take my baby out of me, she thought as she lay back down, my dead baby.

‘Let's wait a few minutes for the potion to take effect and we'll be right back. How do you feel?” Destroyed. Empty.

Ginny nodded, not knowing what to say. 'Fine.'

‘I know this is a difficult time, Ms. Potter, don't hesitate to ask our help with whatever it is, okay? We have a psychologist on duty today, and you.” She looked at Harry. “And you, sir, can ask to speak with her.” They both nodded, and the healer was gone again.

The silence made Ginny need to close her eyes to keep from starting to cry again, she felt Harry's lips on her fingers and then on her forehead. “We'll be fine, I promise. I'm here with you.” She nodded.

“I love you.” She looked up at him, already sensing she was going to cry again. Harry was crying too. 'So much.'

'I love you so much too. It barely fits inside my chest.' Ginny wiped the tears from his face, feeling the least bit happy in the midst of that storm because Harry was there with her.

[...]

When they left the Hospital the next morning, Ginny had been given a two-and-a-half week layoff from the Harpies on medical advice, and Robards had turned off Harry so he could stay with Ginny.

It was Harry who told Molly and Arthur what had happened, while Ginny was lying on the bed, watching as her mother sobbed and ran to hug her, her father right behind. She was still in shock, and the psychologist had said it was a normal reaction after trauma, but that Ginny had to try to tell the people she trusted the most for more support.

Her mom kept coming to their house or calling them on Floo at least once a day to make sure they were okay. She would bring Ginny cookies, stay with her in bed, hug her when Ginny started crying again, and watch TV with her daughter. Ginny didn't even bother to look like a needy child who called her mum when she was scared, because Ginny felt that was what she wanted, and Molly didn't seem to mind at all.

When it was a week old, they told Hermione and Ron, which was good too. The more Ginny talked, the pain seemed to get a little less. It was as if she gave each person a piece of pain, and the weight on her shoulders lessened and it was easier to live.

It still hurts, a lot. But it got a little easier.

On Saturday, after 10 days, Harry left in the morning to go to the market and Ginny was left alone watching TV, a cooking show that was a little too chaotic but made her smile and forget about life for a bit, following the pairs running against the time for making cupcakes and trying to win a prize.

Harry arrived two hours later when Ginny was watching a movie about a millionaire who fell in love with a prostitute. It was a pretty story, and the actors were pretty handsome too, which helped a lot in keeping her entertained.

'I thought you had lost your way home.' She said when she saw Harry enter the room, grinning from ear to ear and looking like a kid who's up to something and doesn't want his parents to find out. 'What happened?'

'Close your eyes.'

‘Harry, what-’

"Close your eyes." Ginny sighed but did as he asked, waiting for whatever it was he had bought her. Harry liked to give her presents when she was sad, Ginny found that out over time.

She felt something being propped up beside her, it was a little heavy and soft, and… did it have paws?

"Surprise!" Harry grinned even wider as she opened her eyes, watching the small caramel dog beside her, huge black eyes glaring at her, short furless tail swinging from side to side, ears pricked up intently. "There was an animal adoption fair near the market, and I saw this little one and they told me he was abandoned on the road and needed someone who could love and care for him."

Ginny's heart melted, and for the first time in 10 days her eyes filled with tears but for something other than sadness. The dog looked at her hopefully, eagerly waiting for her to do anything. When she reached out to pick him up, he seemed to smile and licked her face as if in thanks.

‘He already has a name, it's Sir...We could change, but I liked it... He looks pretty sassy, like me-’

"When you said Snape didn't need to call you Professor." Ginny laughed, still holding the little dog in her lap. He had a lovely puppy smell, his belly swollen and warm, and his little paws were resting on her chest, his nails still too small to hurt her. ‘I love it, babe.’

‘I remembered that you had said that our house seemed lifeless, and what is better to give life than a dog? Right?'

'Totally.'

'And since neither you nor I have ever had one, I thought it would be cool.' Harry sat on the bed next to her and Sir, who was now lying in her arms like he really was a baby, his head close to her elbow and his paws hanging one on either side of her arm. "I told you she was going to love you," he muttered to the animal. 'The vet said he wouldn't grow much.'

"That's good, we don't have much space in the apartment."

#hinny #harry x ginny #hinny headcanon #harry potter #ginny weasley #my fic #spoiler: Sir turned into a huge dog :)

[holylulusworld]

Time travel and heartbreak

Request: Could you do an fic, about Steve and the reader where they are together and neither one of them gets snapped, but Steve gets a chance to go back to Peggy in the time jump And he does, leaving the reader behind. However, you think is best!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (mentioned/brief), Bucky Barnes x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Ofc’s

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, unrequited love, abandonment, accidents, coma, medical procedures (I am not a doctor), pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage (nothing graphic), sadness, hurt reader, soft Bucky, language, did I mention angst?, Steve being the Russo brothers asshole (I still hate you for pulling that shit!), comforting, fluff

Two months earlier,

“I am always honest,“ ocean blue eyes looked down at you while his large hands cradled your face to bring you close to his lips. “I’ll be back soon,” he said knowing it would be the last time he will see you.

“Steve, please be careful,” you pressed your lips to his, desperate, almost crying as he seemed to want to get away from you as fast as possible. “I love you, Steve.”

“Love you too, doll,” that he used the pet name was an indication something is wrong. Steve always used your name when he said those three meaningful words but back then, he said ‘doll’ and your heart sank.

One look at Bucky, the guilt too prominent on your friend's face and you knew, just knew this was the last kiss you shared with Steve for a lifetime. 

“Lying bastard,” you screamed at Steve before he disappeared, leaving you numb, heartbroken, and all alone.

“Y/N, doll,” Bucky tried to stop you but one look into your eyes told him to take a step away, give you time and space. “He told me this morning; I swear.”

“You’ve got a fine friend, Buck,” you huffed, wiping a single tear away. “Didn’t he promise to you till the end of the line?”

“He did,” your friend choked out, giving you a sad smile before he replaced it with a frown. “I am sorry, Y/N, please believe me.”

“I do, Bucky but,” sniffling you squeezed Bucky’s flesh hand, not wanting to cry in front of your friends. “I need time to overthink a few things. I’ll be back soon.”

“You know, he left me for a better version of me, doll. What does this make me?” Bucky was left in a world he was still strange to by his only friend. “The broken toy?”

“We are the same, Bucky,” you whispered, gently caressing Bucky’s cheek. “We both are not enough for him. He will always dream of glorious times with his original friend and her. We were only substitutes, my friend.”

Bucky let you go, not wanting to drag you into the hole he will hide in for weeks, months, or maybe forever. 

“She’s one in a million. Steve will be happy when he comes back,” Sam said, unbeknownst of the heartbreak Bucky and you felt at that moment.

“Sure, he will Sam. If you excuse me, I got places to be or not,” Bucky ran off, not wanting to witness your friend’s reaction when Steve does not return.

Now,

“Please, doll you got to wake up,” sniffling Bucky holds your hand while his eyes are glued to the machines keeping you alive. “You can’t just leave me too.”

“Mr. Barnes, she’s in an artificial coma to help her body recover and give the baby a chance,” the doctor explains and Bucky inhales sharply. 

“How’s the baby? I haven’t seen her for like two months,” choking on his words his grip on your hand tightens. “Will the baby survive?”

“All we can say for now is that Ms. Y/L/N has a subdural hematoma. It is not unusual after a car accident, Mr. Barnes,” opening your file the doctor swallows thickly. 

“A subdural hematoma develops if there's bleeding into the space between the skull and the brain caused by damage to the blood vessels of the brain or the brain itself,” Bucky nods, not understanding everything the doctor said. 

“We hope it won’t add too much pressure on the brain to cause brain damage. I need to interfere before this happens.”

“A surgery,” the doctor nods, giving Bucky a sympathetic look. “Can she and the baby survive surgery?”

“I hope for the best, Mr. Barnes. All we can do now is wait, pray, and hope for the best. If not, we will have to take the pressure off her brain as fast as possible.”

Leaving Bucky alone the doctor looks at Sam who silently enters the room.

“How is she holding up, James?”

“Not good,” Bucky wipes a few tears away, looking at Sam who cannot find the right words. It is not as if he and Bucky were friends before they got dusted but somehow, he feels responsible for the man holding your hand. 

“Doc said she needs surgery if the pressure gets too much. He didn’t answer my question about the baby, though.”

“Baby,” Sam shakes his head, sitting opposite Bucky to take your other hand. “Listen, girl, we are here, okay. Even if Cap left you, Bucky, me, and the others are still here to help you. All you must do is to fight, for you, the baby, and the old man holding your hand. He’s alone too, you know.”

“I’m used to being alone,” Bucky murmurs, not letting go of your hand. “How could he leave her knowing about the baby?”

“You think he knew?” quirking a brow Sam searches Bucky’s face. 

“I don’t know him anymore, okay. He spent almost five years trying to bring you, me, and the others back only to leave us without saying goodbye. 

Steve lied straight to Y/N’s face before he stepped onto the platform. So yes, I fucking believe he left her knowing about the baby,” Bucky’s voice cracks hearing Sam calling your name when your blood pressure falls. 

“Get the doctor!”

“The pressure is back to normal, the surgery was a success but we will monitor her and the baby day and night,” Bucky is pacing in front of the intense care while Sam tries to get as much information out of the doctor as possible.

“Buck, please calm. You are making me damn nervous,” Sam sighs, not able to stop Bucky from pacing. He is wildly gesturing toward your room, not liking the way the doctor tries to keep him away from you.

“Mr. Barnes, I am sorry but right now Ms. Y/L/N is in a critical state. No visitors but the nurses and my team. We will do anything to save her and the baby’s life,” Sam nods, shaking the doctor's hand before he joins Bucky.

“I’ll wait here all day and night, Sam,” stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest Bucky will not move an inch. 

“Same, Buck.”

One month later,

“She looks better, doesn’t she,” Bucky tries while Wanda carefully touches your cheek. She smiles softly at your dreams, the ones she will never tell anyone about.

Silly dreams of you dancing with Steve barefoot in your kitchen while an old song he loved, the one he wanted to dance to with Peggy, plays in the background. Your child plays in the backyard while all your friends call the faceless child’s name.

It is a pleasant dream, helping your mind heal, just like your body but Wanda can’t stop the tears running down her face. 

“Wanda, what’s wrong? Is she in pain?” Bucky desperately grasps for your hand.

“No, Bucky she is at peace in her dreams,” Wanda sniffles, giving Bucky a sad smile. “She dreamed of her child and I just…”

“I don’t know what to tell her when she wakes up either, Wanda. How can I tell her she lost the baby, the only thing left of Steve in her life?” Bucky chokes out.

Sam hides his face in the palms of his hands. “Steve doesn’t even know what he lost a month ago.”

Silence fills the room when Bucky gets up to look out of the window. He barely found the time to think about his lost friend, or rather he did not allow himself to think about him.

“I bet he wouldn’t care, Sam,” Bucky’s words are final, and he does not hide the bitterness behind his statement. “I wanted to visit him, the old Steve, but I can’t. Not yet.”

Again, silence weighs heavy on the friends, only watching your chest rise and fall, rise and fall until Wanda can’t stop the sob leaving her lips.

“How could he leave us behind? I believed in him, lost my brother, my home and still, I followed him,” her voice cracks looking at Sam who joined Bucky to look out of the window.

“I don’t know, Wanda,” Sam tries to calm the angry redhead, but she stomps out of the room, silently closing the door. “She’s hurt like everyone else. I guess it’s on me to tell him about his loss.”

“I can’t face him yet, Sam,” Bucky turns to look at you, a soft smile tugging on his lips. “If he would’ve stayed there could be a smile on her lips and a baby under her heart.”

Another month later,

“I am worried Y/N,” Bucky gently strokes your hair while the physical therapist tries to help you lift your leg. “You shouldn’t look so good after four months at a hospital.” 

You giggle lightly, even raise your fist to weakly punch Bucky’s upper arm. “Y…you,” searching for the right word you sigh, “look good. Short hair.”

Bucky nods, taking your hand to press a soft kiss to your skin. “I know I look dapper with short hair doll but do not fall for me,” giving you a wink Bucky smirks as the therapist chuckles lightly.

“We are done for today, Ms. Y/L/N,” the therapist says. “I’ll leave you in your visitors’ capable hands, ma’am.” Nodding you watch the young man leave the room, rolling your eyes.

“I get it, you are pissed it wasn’t me touching your legs,” Bucky teases, covering your lower half with a blanket. “You have to be patient, Y/N. The doctor said your brain and body still need time to recover.

“…know,” sighing you clumsily turn to your left side, “Bucky…” sniffling you touch your belly, looking up at your friend. “…gone.”

“I know and I am so sorry, sweetheart,” whispering the words he sits onto the bed, helping you to cry into his chest. “I am here, Sam and the others too. You’ll never be alone, Y/N.”

Two months later,

“Look at our champion, Sam,” cheering you on, a big smile plastered on his face Bucky watches you walk toward them without any help. “I knew you will make it, doll.”

You do not say anything, just walk toward Bucky, the only person keeping you going as his heartbreak matches your own. 

“You’re a good trainer, Barnes,” his smile grows when you peck his cheek before you let him help you back into the wheelchair you still need.

“She’s getting better and I think, it’s time to show her the new tower. Stark would be proud,” Sam stumbles over his words, smiling sadly as silence fills the room. 

“Tony, he always liked to make you smile, you know. He was,” Sam’s voice cracks now and you nod, wiping a few tears away.

Two weeks later,

“Whoa, Pepper did a great job,” looking up at the tower, you smile as Bucky wraps his arm tightly around your waist to steady your body. “She’s as impressive as Tony.”

“He would be proud of her,” your eyes shine remembering your lost friends as their features look down at you, adorning the towers façade. 

“I got the feeling Stark’s eyes follow me,” Bucky jokes, breaking the awkward moment. “I mean, he had a huge ego and now there is a huge picture of him painted onto the façade.”

“It’s a hologram according to Bruce,” Sam corrects, and you chuckle at the bitchface Bucky throws at Sam. “I mean, that’s a difference, Barnes.”

“Smartass,” grunting the word Bucky leads you toward the tower. Wanda is already waving at you pointing at Morgan who runs toward you a smile on her face.

“Auntie Y/N,” the girl sniffles holding out her hands. “I am glad you are no longer sleeping beauty.” 

Bucky laughs at her words, still, his heart hurts as you lost months of your life and your baby only for Steve being happy in another lifetime.

Three months later,

“It’s been a while,” whispering the words you look at Bucky who nods silently. 

There is comfort only he can give you. Maybe as you are two wounded souls, hurt by the very same man. “I feel like I cheated on him.”

The kiss was short, sweet and all you could ask for but there is this feeling in your guts as if you betrayed Steve. 

Your brain knows you are wrong as said man left your months ago for another woman, but your heart was not able to catch up, as it missed the chance to process that you got left behind.

“That’s normal. You were in a coma, could not cry, scream, or throw things around as the accident took this from you,” Bucky understands you, tries to pull away but you shake your head, pressing your lips to his warm pillows again.

“We won’t let him take this away from us too, Buck. He can go and rot in hell or dance all his life with that woman he left us for,” voice trembling you touch Bucky’s cheek.

“I will not give you up.”

“Same, doll,” Bucky stammers before he feels your arms wrap around his neck. “I loved you since I met you.”

Two years later,

“I know it took me long to come here,” whispering the words you lean back, watching a squirrel run toward a tree.

“Will you ever forgive me,” Steve or rather his aged version rasps, glancing at you folding your hands.

You slowly get up, looking into the distance. “I forgive you for being a selfish bastard and I have to thank you at the same time,” you smile as Steve wrinkles his forehead.

“I don’t understand,” Steve whispers.

“You gave me the chance to be free again. I had the chance to find the love of my life thanks to you,” you look at Bucky waiting at the end of the park, your baby boy in his arms.

“I got my husband, my son and a baby girl on her way,” you peck Steve’s cheek, turning to leave.

“The only thing I'll never forgive you is that due to the heartbreak you willingly caused I had an accident, lost months of my life, and,” you sniffle silently, “our baby.”

“Baby!” Steve chokes out, feeling his heart break at the thought he could’ve had it all - with you. 

“I hope she was worth it, Steve. I hope, from the depths of my heart, you had a wonderful life with her.”

One last time you look at Steve before you are the one walking away, leaving him behind...

All works Tags

@yolobloggers​

@shikshinkwon​

@miraclesoflove​

@mogaruke​

@shatteredabby​

@soryuwifeyxx​

@letsdisneythings​

@i-love-superhero​

@psychicforest​

@thevelvetseries​

@deanmonandnegansbitch​

@sabascio​

@goodgodimaweirdperson​

@that-place-called-middle-earth​

@trumpettay​

@zxph-yr​

@belovedcherry​

@matsumama​

@rynabarnesrogers-reading​

@emoryhemsworth​

@buckybarnesplumwhore​

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

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore​

@notyourtypicalrose​

@voltage-my2dlove​

@officialmarvelwhore​

@randomgirlkensy​

@juniorhuntersam​

@lumar014​

@doctorswife221b​

@sister-winchesters99​

@sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​

@the-soulofdevil​

@chonisberonica​

@redroomproperty​

@natura1phenomenon​

@chaoticfiretaconerd​

@heartislubbingdubbing​

@hhiggs​

@sea040561​

@midnightsilver16830​

@rvgrsbrns​

@fandom-princess-forevermore​

@amandamdiehl​

@grincheveryday​

@thelostallycat​

@lunaticgurly​

@xxlikeheavenxx​

@supernaturalwintersoldier​

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

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags

@roonyxx​

@stylesismyhubs​

@multisuperfandom​

@mrspeacem1nusone​

@fallenoutofrose​

@rynabarnesrogers​

@denisemarieangelina​

@gabifernandessn​

@heyiamthatbitch​

@rosalynshields​

@void-hoechlin​

@patzammit​

@donutloverxo​​

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

Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan Tags

@rynabarnesrogers​​

@marshyrebelcloud​​​​

@buchanan-lover​​​

@rosalynshields​​

#tw: miscarriage #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #angst #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #post endgame #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #sam wilson #bucky x you #steve x reader #steve x y/n #former steve rogers x reader

[13uswntimagines]

Instincts and Media Day: What a Terrible Combination (Alpha Kelley x Omega!Reader)

Request: R goes into heat and Kelley has to contain herself so she doesn’t pounce on R, but also so she doesn’t fight another alpha if they come near her girl. So, throughout it all, she becomes more possessive and protective, especially since they are having a busy media day where R has to be around other alphas for shoots and videos.

Authors note: Hey dudes, I hope you Enjoy! Hit me up with Comments, Questions or Requests! 

You groaned lightly, burying your face as far into your alpha’s neck as you could get, taking in her soothing scent. Her strong arms were wrapped around you, holding you tightly, trying to alleviate some of the pre-heat aches you were experiencing. You whimpered as another round of cramping hit your lower belly, soothed slightly by Kelley’s hands rubbing circles into your back. 

“I know baby, I know, just a few hours,” She murmured into your hair, kissing your ear and pulling you ever closer (which was difficult because you had already taken up residence on her lap). She would much rather be cuddled up in bed with you, but you had media obligations before the Olympics that you couldn’t get out of. 

You whined into her neck, pawing at her shirt collar in an attempt to expose more skin for you to nuzzle into. It wasn’t a behavior that she typically allowed, but these were special circumstances. You were in pre-heat and surrounded by about a million alphas who could no doubt smell your pheromones despite the heavy blockers the medical staff had given you.

“She ok Kell,” Alex asked, rubbing your back as she approached the two of you, careful not to touch any skin that wasn’t covered by your t-shirt. You weren’t usually this clingy, always trying to break out of the mold of what society thought omegas should be. You must be feeling it if you were this pliant, but then again, there were no cameras in you yet. It was kinda nice to see you and Kelley this soft. 

“She’s in pre-heat and the blockers are giving her cramps,” Kelley replied softly, her fingers coming up to rub the back of your neck, just barely brushing your mating mark. Reassuring you that she was there, and scent marking you so everyone else knew that you were hers. You sighed into her, kissing the skin under her chin. 

“Poor baby,” Alex mumbled with sympathy, dramatically pouting her lip. 

“Mm not a baby,” You huffed into Kelley’s neck, peeking out just enough to stick your tongue out at the forward, before returning to your favorite hiding spot. 

“I know baby girl, Alex is just messing with you,” Kelley murmured, shooting a glare towards Alex and scratching your scalp. Alex quirked her eyebrows up at the alpha. Had it been any other day, you probably would have chased her down and tackled her. It was troublesome to see you so subdued. 

“why can Alex mess with short stuff in pre-heat but I can’t?” Tobin smirked towards Kelley and wrapped her arms around her omega. Alex leaned back into her arms. 

“That sounds like an alpha problem to me,” Kelley growled at Tobin in warning. She was grateful that the alpha hadn’t tried to get closer to her mate, but the teasing was not appreciated. Not with so many other alphas around. 

“Speaking of alpha problems Worms has got one,” Alex laughed, gesturing towards the very obvious bump in Kelley’s shorts, despite her compression underwear. It was another unfortunate side effect of your pre-heat pheromones. A low growl ripped from your throat. Yes, it was just Alex, but all the hormones rushing through your veins were making you a bit territorial. Kelley’s growl joined your own as she pulled you tighter to her, unhappy with the feelings flittering through your bond. 

“Leave her alone hot stuff,” Tobin said, eyeing the two of you cautiously. Gently pulling Alex back two steps, hoping that the space between the four of you would calm the situation down a little bit. You and Alex were best friends and shared a very particular omega bond, but heat made everyone a little anxious. 

“They want Baby bear for the photos first,” Christen hummed, joining her two mates and watching the way you cuddled further into Kelley with worry. 

Kelley sent her fellow Stanford alpha a stiff nod and began to try and untangle you from her. “Let’s go baby girl,” She murmured softly, rubbing your back as she coaxed you out of her neck. 

“Don’t wanna, you’re warm, and you smell so good,” You whined, finally giving in to the insistent hands, shooting your alpha an unamused glare. 

She leaned in and ran her nose over your scent gland, before placing a kiss on your mating mark. This was no easier for you than it was for her. She wasn’t usually this possessive, but with the scents you were releasing, she just couldn’t seem to help herself. 

“I’ll be there the whole time,” she reassured gently against your skin, standing the two of you up. It would be alright, at least you hoped so.

******

You and Kelley trudged over to the first room, her hand placed firmly on your back to guide you. You didn’t usually like your alpha acting so… alpha? But your inner omega was purring at the action. 

Kelley glared at the woman who handed you your kit, unhappy with the number of dominant pheromones she was releasing. You rolled your eyes slightly, changing into the required clothing without incident, and cuddling back up to Kelley the second you could. 

The photographer watched you with furrowed brows, keeping a large distance between the two of you, more for you alpha than for you. Kelley sent him a grateful smile. 

“Alright Y/n, if you would stand right there please,” He directed softly, gesturing towards a spot marked with an x in front of the camera. You nodded hesitantly, pushing off your alpha (who may or may not have smacked your butt) and heading towards the marked spot. You warningly eyed the other man standing behind said spot, unsure of why he was positioned like that. 

You allowed the beta woman with the photographer to position you, and show you the requested pose, all well laughing lightly at the silly faces Kelley was making at you. 

That was until the man behind the mark laid down, enclosing your feet with his legs. The smile melted from your face, and a rush of nervous scents rolling off of you in waves. Kelley’s response was swift, striding up to the alpha photographer and tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Why is there a guy laying between her legs?” She hissed at the man. 

“He’s just the mister,” the photographer shrugged, hoping that nonchalance would help to show her that this wasn’t a big deal.

“I don’t like the view he has,” 

“Damn you smell good,” The man on the floor mumbled, painfully unaware that this was not the right thing to say. 

“Kell,” Your voice neared panic, your eyes were wide and a bright blush tinted your cheeks. It was one thing for Kelley to tell you how good you smelled and another for a random person to do so. You weren’t naive and you hated the view some people had of omega, thinking that a pass like that was acceptable. 

“Mario will behave himself right?” The photographer glared at the young man, shaking his head, 

Kelley growled back low and dangerous, like a warning siren. Any more unprofessionalism from the man would result in some extreme consequences. It wasn’t that she didn’t think you could handle yourself, but her instincts demanded that she protect you, that she tell others that you were hers. 

The man on the floor shrunk, holding up his spray bottle like a shield and praying that his mistake hadn’t just set the delicate situation over the edge. He hadn’t meant to say it, and he knew you were the other alphas, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself. 

“Kelley, just a few shots,” the photographer pleaded, and you sent him a very slight nod. Kelley met your eyes and nodded in return. 

“Fine…” she huffed, and the photographer’s shoulders relaxed. If you could handle it, so could she. “but I don’t like this,” she finished softly, glaring at the floor. You sighed in support of her sentiment before returning your attention to the photographer. The quicker you started, the quicker you would be finished. 

*****

Kelley’s protective instincts were being pushed to the limit. You had been shuffled around from interview to interview, with each respective reporter asking more invasive questions than the last. You were becoming increasingly uncomfortable and your heat symptoms were continuing to become more prominent. 

You only had a few stops left before you could go back to your hotel room and hopefully ride out the rest of your heat in peace before the opening game of the Olympics. 

“If you’ll step this way Ms. Y/l/n, I just have a few questions for you,” the sleezy alpha interviewer gestured towards a spot next to him in front of the camera. You kissed Kelley’s cheek before taking the requested spot. You inner omega crying out for the alpha, and growling at the distance between the two of you. 

The man shot a look at your alpha before queuing the camera. The conversation started normally, asking questions about how you felt being a left side forward and the connections in the midfield, but then everything seemed to shift. 

“So what’s it like being an omega on the national team,” He asked, stepping a little bit closer to you. 

You took a small step back, smiling into the camera. “It’s great, we are all treated as equals and the girls are amazing!”. You gestured wildly as you spoke, always happy to highlight the team's emphasis on equality and not allowing an individual's bearing to impact the team's view of them. 

Yes, the team was a little protective of the omegas, but then again half of the countries you faced were not as progressive in their views of omega roles as the US. They always made sure they weren’t overstepping. They never wanted you to feel like you were lesser or subservient to the alphas on the team, and they would kill anyone who made you feel that way. 

The reporter frowned at your answer, gritting his teeth just a little. Why did you little omegas have to be so difficult?

“That’s not what I meant.” The reporter growled lowly, taking another step closer to you, “Do you ever use the other alphas attraction to you to your advantage,” He tilted his head so your faces were mere inches apart.

“There’s only one alpha I care about so no…” You mumbled, leaning away from the man and trying to remain calm. Your eyes met your alpha’s, and she tilted her head slightly. She didn’t like where this was going. 

“But couldn’t your beauty be helpful on the field,” He pressed, again trying to close the distance. You put your hands up to stop him. 

“I think she tries to rely more on her skills,” Kelley interjected, her lips a thin line in disapproval, and her attempt to not strangle this man. 

“Of course, my bad,” His eyes snapped to hers and he brought his hands up in innocence, but didn’t move away from you. You sent Kelley help me eyes, releasing a light wave of distressed signals. He leaned closer to you, either oblivious or uncaring towards your uncomfortableness. 

“Can you take a step back please?” Kelley growled, releasing her own dominant scent. The man’s nose twitched as he turned to face her, his hand grabbing your shoulder to prevent you from escaping. Tobin shot you a concerned look, stepping towards the situation. 

“No need to get overprotective,” He smirked as though he was the one in control of this situation, the cockyness oozing off of him in waves. 

Kelley bearing her teeth was the only warning you and the teammates who were watching you had before she lunged at the man, entirely fed up with his caviler attitude towards you. 

“Whoa Kelley, relax,” Tobin yelled, wrapping an arm around the smaller alpha’s waist, pulling her away from the situation. The reporter dropped your arm in shock. The USWNT was known for its impeccable control. It was incredibly rare for an alpha to lose it, but Kelley had been pushed too far. 

“You do not disrespect her!” She roared, fighting Tobin, Christen, and JJ’s attempts to restrain her. Alex, Sam, and Mal all moved to stand between you and the sleezy reporter, hoping that a wall of teammates would help to calm Kelley down. 

“Kelley, chill,” Christen grunted when an elbow came very close to her face. Nothing would calm her down right now besides you. 

“Kel,” You said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, and the alpha froze. She turned her head towards you, her inner alpha screaming for her to go to you, so she did. The team let her pass and she wrapped you up in her arms, your face buried into her neck, soothing your frayed nerves and appeasing your instincts. 

“I don't like this,” she hissed into your ear, her nose pressing sinfully against your scent gland, marking you as her own. You whined pitifully into her neck, a sweat breaking out across your forehead and a low ake settling in your lower belly. 

The team formed a protective cocoon around the two of you (leaving a wide radius as to not trigger Kelley’s instincts further) to give you some privacy from all of the cameras. Vlatko quickly made his way towards the hoard of players, deciding that having you and Kelley present was not a priority at the minute. He could smell the heat pheromones rolling off of you, a distinct shift from the pre-heat symptoms you were experiencing before. Keeping you here would just be begging for trouble, A fact he wasn’t naïve to. 

“Take her back to the hotel, and… take care of her,” He ordered carefully from a respectable distance. The team was a family (a very protective family) and he was the newcomer. Getting too close to the team (who were already in protective mode) was a very bad idea. 

Kelley glanced up from your neck to salute him “You got it, boss,” before picking you up bridal style. You were in no condition to walk, and your omega preened under the alphas display of strength. You purred into her chest, nuzzling the skin exposed by her neckline. 

“What about my interview,” the reporter huffed, receiving several glares from Kelley and the rest of the alphas on the team. How fucking dare he. While they couldn’t deny him outright, they always had a special punishment for disrespectful assholes. 

“I’ll finish it, you’ve perved on enough omegas today,” Tobin smirked evilly in his direction, too many teeth showing in her smile to be kind. Christen sent a nod in your direction as if to say that the team would deal with the situation so Kelley could attend to you. She sent the forward a grateful smile before leaning down to kiss your head. 

“Let’s go my darling,” she murmured, walking towards the door, all of her alpha bravado gone now that you were safe in her arms. Now that she could devote her full attention to making you feel good and loved instead of fending off other alphas. Maybe she had lost her impeccable control, but it was worth it if it kept you safe. 

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #kelley o'hara x reader #kelley o'hara imagine

[the-bau-quinjet]

Every Little Thing.

Part 3!! You can find all the info about why this is such a mess in Part 1 and read Part 2 here! This is the last part sort of. I’m planning on an epilogue of sorts though!

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her.

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader, stalker

Word Count: 8681

The next time you open your eyes, the first thing you see is the shadow of an unknown person looming over you. Your instincts are screaming danger and without thinking about it, you start fighting your way out of their hands. They are trying to restrain you, so you fight back harder. You can’t stop hearing the lamp crashing on your head. It’s reminding you over and over of the danger you are in. Your self-defense training kicks in when the person wraps an arm across our chest. Afterwards, you think it should have occurred to you that the person wasn’t really fighting back so much as trying to calm you down, but you’ll blame your poor observational skills on adrenaline. It just all happened so fast.

You form your hands into “large claws” as the instructor called them in class, and swiftly shove them between your body and the arm of the attacker. Gripping the arm, you throw your weight diagonally forward, curling your body in toward your left knee. You end in a one legged kneel, having thrown the person over your shoulder. The thud they made upon hitting the floor was highly satisfying, until you looked down and recognized the face.

 Derek Morgan was staring at you from his new found position on the floor, you kneeling over him with a slightly crazed look in your eye. You would start apologizing, but you are so stunned you don’t move until Morgan gets up and guides you back to the couch.

 Apparently the team had been trying to reach you or Reid for a while. Neither of you answered, for reasons that were obvious now, so the team rushed over to check on you. Nobody mentions how you just threw Derek over your body as if he were a ragdoll. It doesn’t seem like the time to be joking around.

 You tell them everything you can remember, starting with everything you told Spencer about the man you recognized and ending with the sound of the lamp cracking over your head. You’re surprised you didn’t cry through the whole story. Maybe you’re out of tears, physically unable to produce any more because your tear ducts dried up. If Spencer were here he’d tell you some fact about how your tear ducts never really dry out, your body just becomes dehydrated and water is diverted to more essential tasks.

 At the thought of Spencer, a few tears do spring to your eyes. “Why would he take him? I was right here! He could’ve just taken me and been done with it. Oh, god. I was right there and I couldn’t stop him. No, no, no no no nonono.” You can feel all the signs of panic setting in, but you don’t have the power to stop them on your own. The team is trying to help you. They are, but you don’t hear them. You’re too worried about what is currently happening to Spencer.

 It feels like time has slowed down. It’s like you’re swimming through syrup, desperately trying to stay above the surface, but the liquid is heavy and it’s sticky and it’s pulling you down. You hear what people are saying to you, but the words don’t make sense in your brain. They might as well be talking to a toddler, because all you can do is babble incoherently and point at the pieces of lamp on the ground.  

 You are relieving the same two scenes over and over. The look on his face when you made eye contact in the park. Then the sound of the lamp hitting your skull in the dark. The look on his face. The sound of the lamp. The look. The sound. His face. The lamp. It’s repeating in a never ending cycle. Your brain is moving so fast, you’re combining the two experiences. Logically, you know it was way too dark to see him holding the lamp, but you can see it clear as day in your head.

 He’s walking across the room. He stops to pick up the lamp. He’s got both hands wrapped around it, as if he needed all the force he could possible create. HI lifts it above his head, and crash- wait. He’s holding the lamp like a mic stand. He’s holding the lamp like a mic stand!

 “The lamp!” Your exclamation is so loud, Hotch looks as if he could’ve been surprised.

 “He hit you with the lamp. We know.” Morgan’s voice is soothing, but your brain is moving through everything too fast to listen. You must look certifiably insane.

 “No, the way he held the lamp.” Your brain is moving too fast for the words coming out of your mouth to catch up.

 “You said it was too dark to see anything. How do you know how he held the lamp?” JJ looks confused more than anything at your behavior.

 “I don’t. I mean, I do. I don’t know.” You’re being pulled back to the couch again. It’s as if the syrup has you in a bubble. You’re moving at a different frequency than the rest of them. You’re in a daze, not speaking as clearly as you are thinking.

 “Y/N.” Hotch says your name with such a commanding presence, you’re focus is returned to the team. They’re staring at you with various expressions. Rossi looks so concerned you can’t help but think of the song you started for him. He really is the parental type. The rest of the team wear expressions that perfectly balance confusion, concern, and worry. Except for Hotch. He looks as stoic as ever, but there is a glint in his eye that seems to indicate he’s worried. “What about the lamp?”

 “You’re right. I didn’t see the lamp in his hands. It was too dark.” This clears the confusion, but the concern and worry haven’t left their faces. “I can picture it though. And in my head, he was holding the lamp like I would hold a mic stand if I was trying to adjust the height.” You mime the grip in front of you. “That’s a weird fucking way to hold a lamp. So, why would I picture that?” They give you sympathetic looks, but nobody has an answer for you. 

You’ve risen from the couch to pace back and forth across the room. The team starts speculating where the unsub would’ve taken Spencer, but you’re not listening. You are so sure there’s a reason you picture the lamp like that. You aren’t paying attention to them, and they aren’t paying attention to you. At least, that’s what you thought. You’re practically muttering to yourself when you figure it out. “I’ve seen him adjust a mic stand.” Hotch must have ears like an elephant because his head instantly swivels in your direction. You make the briefest of eye contact, a small smile forming on your face as you dart back toward the team.

 “You’ve seen him before yesterday?” Hotch asks, cutting off the conversation currently going on between the agents. The group turns toward you, just realizing you’re no longer walking in circles talking to yourself.

 “Yes. Yes, I’ve seen him adjust a mic stand. That must be why I pictured it like that in my head. The lamp I mean.” Hotch gives you a gentle nudge, encouraging you to reach a conclusion. “He works on the crew. His first show was the Louisville show.” Morgan already has Garcia on the phone, narrowing down the names for newer hires only.

 “That’s still 42 names.” You can hear her nerves through the phone, and you’ve only met her once.

 “Right, we hire a lot of new people for the US leg of the tour. It’s usually the biggest part.” You try to remember anything else about this man, wishing you had Spencer’s memory.

 “Y/N, what else can you remember about him?” JJ’s words are gentle, but the look in her eyes is anything but. It is her best friend that’s missing.

 “I don’t know. He’s never talked to me. I tried to introduce myself once and he just awkwardly ran away. The other crew guys he was working with, though they said something though.” You start tapping the side of your head, trying to recall the memory from nearly a month ago. “They said he’s been like that since he started. A little shy, I mean. They thought he was star struck.” You know they said something else, but it feels like you’re trying to catch individual grains of sand. You can just barely see them before they land in the water, fading away. “His name! One of them said his name. Jake or John or something with a J.”

 “Three names.” The hope was evident in the way Garcia said the two simple words.

 “What are they? I know they said his last name too, it’s just harder to remember because I didn’t talk to him personally.”

 “Jacob Hawthorne-“

 “No, it’s not him. He works in lighting, great guy. Cute kids.”

“Jordan Crawford”

 “No, he’s a set designer. I talk to him all the time about switching things up between shows.”

 “Last one, Joshua Gr-“

 “Graves! Josh Graves That’s the name. That’s him!”

 “Y/N, stay here. Agent Anderson will make sure you’re safe.” You can still hear his commanding voice as he leaves the room with the rest of the team. “Garcia, look for addresses where he-” The door swings shut, cutting you off from the rest of the information.

 You gave Agent Anderson a small wave, asking if he wanted coffee or tea. You were still trying to be a good host, even if the room was a crime scene.

 Crime scene. Suddenly, the idea of staying in this room any longer made you feel physically ill. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and a baseball hat, grabbing your keys as you headed for the door. Before Agent Anderson, or Grant as he introduced himself, could speak a word of protest, you had the door open.

 “I can’t be in that room anymore. We can go wherever you want, I just can’t stay there.” He nodded in understanding, but still looked nervous at the idea of ignoring Hotch’s order to stay put.

 The elevator doors opened to a mostly deserted lobby. You instantly walk over to the small café tucked into the corner. The barista recognizes you immediately, reaching for a bag as if you had already ordered.

 “Ms. L/N, a man ordered this for you earlier. He said to give it to you as soon possible, but I didn’t want to wake you up since it’s still so early.” She has a sweet smile on her face, one you try to return but fail miserably.

 “Thank you.” You’re far too stressed to worry about who ordered you a pastry before 5:45 in the morning on a day you were definitely not planning on being up this early. Agent Anderson, though? He was suspicious.

 As you sat down in the arm chairs just outside of the shop, he politely asked for the bag.

 “Why?” You said it with genuine confusion, but apparently he wasn’t actually asking. He had the bag open and the contents dumped onto the table in a matter of seconds. A blueberry muffin, you’re favorite, and a napkin topple onto the surface of the table in front of you.

 “Are FBI agents trained to waste perfectly good muffins?” It’s hard to hide the slight mirth in your voice as you stare at the muffin that rolled of the table and onto the floor. Grant must not have heard you, or maybe he just chose to ignore you. He was still looking at the napkin. He took a picture on his phone before finally returning his attention to you. Of course, now your attention was trained on the napkin. It was your turn to move quickly, sliding it over to you and holding it out to prevent him from taking it back. The message on it was written in sloppy, rushed handwriting, but it was still legible.

 “You belong with me. Not him.”

“His story is bound to have dust on every page when I’m done with him.”

“The slope was treacherous, the path reckless.”

“Do you think there’s enough blank space for him?”

 You aren’t proud of the first thought that popped into your head. It was true, but you still would’ve liked to think your first thought would somehow tell you where Spencer was. Or at least be about Spencer, but no.

 So rude of him to use my own lyrics for this. 

 You moved passed it quickly though, ignoring the fear you felt at seeing an unreleased lyric in front of you. There must be some sort of clue in the note. Why would he leave it for me if he doesn’t want me to find him? Grant managed to snatch the napkin out of your hand, but you had already read it. The damage was done.

 “Y/N. You cannot leave this hotel. The team will find him. They know what they’re doing.” His words were a warning. One you intended to ignore.

 “Fine. I’m going to get another muffin.” You tried to sound normal, but that’s probably what gave you away. Nobody would sound normal in this scenario. It didn’t matter if he figured out your plan though. You had a distraction for him. You waved at the barista as you walked into the shop.

 “Hi, can I get another muffin? Accidentally dropped mine, whoops!” You smiled at her in a conspiratorial kind of way before leaning closer. “By the way, my friend over there” you nodded toward the agent who hadn’t taken his eyes off you as you walked away, “he thinks you’re cute. You should go talk to him!” Before you knew it, she was out from behind the counter, waving to her colleague to get you a muffin. She stood right in front of Grant, twirling her hair, but more importantly blocking his view of you.

 You didn’t wait for the muffin. You slipped out the side door that lead straight to the main street, repeating the clues in your head. Dust. Treacherous. Blank Space.

 Somewhere dirty, dangerous, and empty?

 Ideas are flying through your head, but they don’t make any sense. The clues aren’t specific enough to tell you everything. It has to be somewhere you’ve been. Realization hits you as if a piano just fell out of the sky.

 The arena. There was a staircase and some back rooms that were closed for construction. Dust, check. Unsafe conditions, check. Empty rooms, check. That has to be it.

 You hail a cab, texting Hotch once you are on route to your destination. You know he’s going to tell you to stay put, but you want to make sure he knows where to go.

 “The arena. They were doing construction.” You put your phone on airplane mode before returning it to your bag.

 You expect to arrive at the arena to see it surrounded by black SUVs and police cars, but everything is eerily quiet. You must have beaten them there somehow. You pay your driver before walking up to the main doors. It seems like the best plan of action is to get inside and then find the construction zone. Weirdly enough, the front door is unlocked.

 The sound of your shoes hitting the floor echoes in your mind as you wander through the building. It should be a fairly straightforward path, but you’re all turned around. Everything feels different. It’s no longer the nervous butterflies you get right before you perform. The syrup is coming back, only this time it’s pulling you in every direction except for the one you want to go in. You’re fighting your own sense of self preservation. Your brain is screaming at you to leave. You aren’t trained for this. You’re barely trained for anything that doesn’t involve music. But there is a part of you that still feels like this is all your fault. Maybe if you had just talked to him that day things would be different. You could’ve prevented all of this. Maybe…

 The sound of Spencer’s voice pulls you forward. He sounds like he’s in pain, but the words are powerful.

 “She’s not going to come. Even if she does get the note, there is no way the FBI would let her anywhere near the building.”

More guilt overwhelms you. It’s as if, all at once, the extreme stupidity of your actions hits you. You are putting Spencer’s life at risk. Hell, you are endangering the lives of any agent who has to walk into this building to protect you. You don’t know what will happen to Grant. You left him behind when all he was trying to do was protect you. You made it so he couldn’t do his job properly.

 Your body leans into the nearest wall with a soft thud. You barely heard it, but it was apparently loud enough for Joshua.

 “Someone’s hear.” His voice sounds playful, as if he’s really enjoying this. “Let’s hope for your sake it’s her.” You’re frozen in place as the footsteps grow closer and closer. You can’t hide. You can’t run. You can’t do anything except wait for him to walk around the corner and see you standing there.

 Seeing him again isn’t like you thought it would be. You thought you’d be angered. Mostly, you’re just tired. Multiple panic attacks in one day could do that to a person. You also probably had a concussion that was influencing how you processed the emotional side of everything going on.

 Seeing Spencer was different than expected as well. There was no huge wave of relief at discovering he was relatively unhurt. You felt relief, but it was like a tiny puddle surrounded by an ocean of guilt and sadness. There was mostly guilt, and no matter what anyone said before it felt different now. He was only in this position because of you. If he had not have been the one to go undercover, he wouldn’t have been targeted. And, it was your brilliant idea that landed him undercover in the first place.

 He looked so panicked at the sight of you. A flurry of emotions ran across his face before settling back into a carefully controlled blank stare.

 You wanted to run to him, but you couldn’t move. Yes, Josh was holding your arm in a grip sure to leave bruises, but your legs also felt like jelly. You kept thinking over and over that you shouldn’t have come. That you are only making everything worse. That everyone else’s jobs are so much harder now that you’ve put yourself here. Spencer must see it written on your face because the first thing he says after you enter the room is “It’s not your fault.”

 Hearing it from him, you’re almost inclined to believe it. All you can do is nod, tears springing to your eyes.

 Josh isn’t pleased with you sharing any sort of a moment with Spencer. He somehow tightens his hold on your arm, drawing a slight yelp from you. You try to remember what Hotch told you that first night. It feels like it happened months ago, but maybe you can talk your way out of this by remembering something useful. Or at least talk Spencer’s way out of it. You’ve been listening to him talk about profiling for the past week, time to put your skills to the test.

 “I’m here now. You can let him go.” You don’t know who is more shocked at your words. Yourself, Josh, or Spencer. You’ve never seen Spencer speechless, but apparently you trying to talk down a psychopath who is obsessed with you and rapidly devolving is enough to manage the feat.

 Josh pulls a gun from the waistband of his pants. He throws you into the wall before angrily pacing through the room.

 “Josh, look at me.” It takes everything in you to pretend like this is a script. As if you are playing a role in a movie. “You have me. We can be together, but you have to let Spencer go.” He’s staring right into your eyes, trying to read your thoughts.

 “You’re lying. He has to die, or he’ll always come between us.” He slowly raises the gun, not quite pointing it at any one, but enough to cause your heart rate to soar.

 “Josh, think about it. I’ve known you for so much longer than I’ve known him.” You nearly choke on the next words that come out of your mouth. “He’s not important to me. Not like you.”

 “STOP LYING TO ME. I KNOW WHAT I SAW.” Oh no. No no no. He’s frantically waving the gun around the room as you inch closer to Spencer. You notice movement near the door you came in, but you don’t have time to investigate. When Josh aims his gun at Spencer, you don’t think before you act- a recurring theme with you today. With all the grace of a newborn deer learning to walk for the first time, you jump in front of Spencer right as the gun goes off.

 You’re not sure if it’s an echo but you would’ve sworn you heard two resounding bangs instead of just one.

 Spencer catches you as you fall to the ground, bleeding from the bullet wound in your abdomen.

 “Spence,” you take a shuttering breath, trying to gain the strength to talk to him.

 “Shh, Y/N. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He turns to yell at someone out of your view. “I need a medic! Now!” He sounds just as panicked as he looked earlier.

 “I’m sorry.” You squeeze his hand when he tries to interrupt you again. “I’m sorry, for coming, but not for sav-saving you. The world- it needs you to pr-pro-protect people. Th-thank you. For every,” you couch a bit as you try to get the words out. “For everything.” You know he is remembering your heartfelt speech to him and Morgan from a few days ago, or at least you hope he is. The last thing you say before your vision fades to black feels so random in comparison. “Don’t blame Grant.”

 --

“Spence,” your breathing is choppy and rough, contrasting the smooth skin beneath his fingertips as he assesses your wound.

 “Shh. Y/N. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” His thoughts are running wild with everything he wants to say to you, but he can’t get anything meaningful to come out. Instead he’s yelling for a medic, frantically looking at all the faces of his closest friends. “I need a medic! Now!” He can hear the panic in his voice, but no amount of training or profiling knowledge can get him to control his emotions.

 “I’m sorry.” He tries to interrupt you. To tell you it’s not your fault. That you did everything right. That Josh’s profile said he wouldn’t back down without a fight. Anything, but you squeeze his hand and he can’t breathe, let alone speak. “For coming, but not for sav-saving you. The world- it needs you to pr-pro-protect people. Th-thank you. For every,” he leans in closer, wishing he could do anything to stop your pain. “For everything.” He can’t help but replay your previous conversation with Morgan. Tears are falling down his face, but he can’t bring himself to care.

 “Don’t blame Grant.” It takes him the entire ride to the hospital to understand why you mentioned Anderson. Even with your brain shutting down from a lack of blood flow, you were still trying to make sure nobody was blamed for your actions.

 He barely listens to the EMTs and the hospital staff as he watches them wheel you back through the all too familiar ‘Authorized Personnel Only” doors.

 Spencer doesn’t bother to hide his emotions when the rest of the team arrive. He doesn’t have the energy in him to muster enough energy to hide how he’s feeling from the group of profilers. They all come to the same realization simultaneously. Spencer is a wreck. There’s no other way to describe it. He spent hours in the waiting room before anyone could even convince him to wash your blood off his hands.

He just keeps thinking about how he didn’t get to say goodbye. Hell, he didn’t really say anything. You were bleeding out in front of him, having just jumped in front of a bullet to save him, and still you had more strength than he did in the moment.

 Another few hours later and he still hasn’t said a word. JJ’s tried. Derek’s tried. Hotch, Penelope, and Emily tried. Nobody can get through to him. He’s either pacing back and forth or staring at a wall. Of course, his mind is racing, the words just don’t come out of his mouth.

 He thinks about how much he hates hospitals. He goes over how germ-ridden every surface is, how much money is spent on healthcare in America, how many people are pronounced dead in hospitals- and then he cuts his own train of thought off.

 He thinks about the statistics of gunshot wounds next. He’s hyper focused on how clean shots with an exit wound are less lethal, but yours didn’t have and exit wound so that meant you were less likely to survive- and again he cuts himself off.

 He’s begging his brain for happier thoughts. Anything that won’t lead him down the rabbit hole of statistics and how likely you are to die. He clings to the first memory that pops into his head. The night he first saw you.

 Hotch, Emily, and Spencer arrived at the arena while the show was still going, if the fireworks were any clue. Normally, one flash of a badge would get the team through any checkpoint, but security at this place was no joke. They called to confirm the identities of the agents before escorting them to the head of security.

 That’s when Spencer saw you for the first time. Hotch was arguing with the head of security, a woman named Carrie. Emily was interjecting, trying to convey how important it was that the three agents speak to you immediately without giving away any details about the case. Spencer, if not for his eidetic memory, would have no idea what had been said. His attention was drawn elsewhere when you ran off the stage.

 He knew it was the last song of the night because of what Carrie was saying. It was clear to them she was stalling the team, so you could finish the show everyone was there to see.

 You had a bright smile on your face, but it seemed off to Spencer. There was a slight sadness in your eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to ask you why. The feeling perplexed him. He’s never been a social butterfly, but your presence was captivating.

 He watched your smile transform into genuine happiness when you slid your arms into a new jacket for the final performance, and he wanted to ask about that to. He wanted to learn everything he could about you.

 He would’ve thought his heart had skipped a beat when you made eye contact, but he knew logically he would’ve required medical attention had that actually happened. The moment was brief. Your expression, although still happy, transformed into slightly quizzical when you glanced at the three agents. He watched as you thought about who they could be before discarding all thoughts from your mind to focus on the grand finale. He kept watching as you ran back on stage, the smile only growing in size and authenticity when you looked out at the crowd.

 He replays that memory in his mind, all the while ignoring the concerned glances and attempts at conversation from his friends. He desperately clings to the way he felt during that 30 second interaction.

 He doesn’t understand the feelings that started in that moment. It’s like as soon as he saw you, something in him shifted. He can’t explain it. He’s not blind. He saw the smirks and subtle glances the other profilers were giving when they saw him interact with you. He was just as surprised by his willingness to comfort you, both emotionally and physically. He’s never been one for touching people he doesn’t know. There’s too many germs. But with you, everything is different... With you, he wants it all. Every little thing. 

 Spencer has never believed in love at first sight. He’s always been too practical, has always thought too logically. But, after the tenth time reliving that moment, he still has no other explanation for the desire he felt. The desire he still feels to learn everything there is to know about you.

 All week, he’s chalked it up to his inquisitive mind. He’s always loved learning, so that must have been what was happening here. He’s never spent any considerable amount of time with a musician before, so it’s only natural that he would want to learn from the experience.

 That’s a much easier explanation to accept than love. People can’t fall in love in a week. Even if it was a week spent nonstop with each other. But something in the back of his mind was screaming at Spencer to tell himself the truth.

 And so he did. And it only confused him more. He’s a man of science. Proving theories with facts, not emotion. Of course, he’s always wanted to be in love, but life has shown him again and again that it wasn’t probable for him. That’s why he nearly fell out of the chair he was in when the realization dawned on him.

 “I haven’t had enough time.” It’s barely a whisper, but all his friends are right there hanging on his every word. They wear cautious expressions, as if he could be easily spooked back into silence.

 “Enough time for what, kid?” Morgan’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. Even in his most calming moments, Derek always puts power behind his words. It’s why he’s so good at helping people, but this is different. He can tell Spencer is hurting, and he doesn’t want to spook him back into complete silence.

 “I’ve barely scratched the surface. I have so much left to learn.” Although he’s still whispering, Spencer’s voice is growing more frantic as he looks between the concerned and confused faces staring back at him. His brain is moving too fast to really explain the thought process going on inside. He can’t put into words how it wasn’t love at first sight, but rather the desire to love you. He saw you and just knew he could love you. That desire to learn everything about you somehow turned into love in the span of a week. Before he can fall even deeper into the rabbit hole he’s found himself in, Spencer is jolted out of his head by the feeling of Rossi’s hands gripping his shoulders.

 “I know, kid. You’ll have more time.” Rossi’s words are so confident, Spencer has no choice but to accept them as fact. His heart slows back down to a normal pace. His breathing becomes more regular. His legs stop bouncing. His hands stop fidgeting. And he accepts the comforting words from his family.

 --

 You’re running. You don’t know where you are. You don’t know how you got here. But you know you’re running.

You feel at ease. You don’t know why. You know it to be true though. You feel safe. Peaceful.

 You try to look around. Try to figure out why you’re running. Are you running toward something? Away from something? For fun? It feels fun.

 You hear voices. It sounds like laughter. Slowly, you put the pieces together.

 You’re in your backyard. Playing with your children. Yours and Spencer’s children. There’s three of them. All girls. The youngest is 4. The other two 6. Twins. You have twins with Spencer. You bask in the joy of it all.

 You’re running because you’re playing tag. With your daughters and Spencer. He’s got the all teamed up against you. It feels unfair, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

 There’s a song playing in your head. One you’ve never heard before. It’s beautiful though. So happy. You’ll have to write it down. Find out if you’ve written it in the moment or if you are simply remembering it from long ago.

 You still can’t remember how you got here. All you remember is dark. And cold.

 Dark and cold. Dark. Cold. A gunshot.

 The memory is foggy, but it’s there. The scene in front of you changes. The song is still playing. Its positivity doesn’t match the scene.

 It’s like you’re watching a movie. Spencer is holding you. You squeeze your eyes shut. You want to go back.

 Back to your kids.

 Back to being happy with Spencer.

 Back to running. Playing. Being in love.

 Then you hear beeping. It’s quiet at first. Drowned out by the song in your head.

 Then the song is getting quieter. The beeping getting louder.

 Then the song is gone. You can only hear the beeping.

 You remember everything when you open your eyes. It comes back to you like a wave crashing over your head, dragging you back into the ocean.

 Instead of focusing on the trauma, you focus on the song.

 It only takes 30 seconds for you to find your phone on the table next to your bed, open it to the voice memos app, and start recording.

 You sing as much of the song as you can remember. It’s not hard since the feelings behind it are so strong. The first verse comes from the forth night you spent with Spencer. You couldn’t sleep so you convinced him to get coffee with you. It didn’t take much convincing for the coffee part since he’s pretty much addicted to the stuff. It took some convincing for him to agree to where you wanted to go though. You wanted to go back to his favorite coffee shop, but he said you could just get some in the hotel. You managed to convince him to go though. He insisted on driving since he now knew you didn’t like it much. The gesture did not go unnoticed. You knew he didn’t like driving either.

 The chorus, second verse, bridge, and breakdown are jumbled, but they’re all there. It’s harder to get it right because it’s not coming from memories of you time with Spencer. It’s coming from what you hope to do with him. After a few tries, you’ve got the whole thing in order.

 You lay back in your bed, the song replaying in your mind as you fall back asleep.

 --

5 hours and 42 minutes. It’s been 5 hours and 42 minutes since you were wheeled into surgery. Every member of the team has gone up to ask about your condition at least once.

 The nurse they’ve been bombarding with questions walks into the room and immediately all eyes are on her.

 She escorts the team out of the waiting area into a private room before she says anything. “Since Ms. L/N is a high profile patient, we have a certain protocol to follow. All I can tell you right now is that she’s out of surgery, and she’s stable. Her security team is on the way and will need to approve any and all visitors. Once approved, her doctor can give you more information.” And then she leaves before any questions can be thrown at her.

 Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief when they hear that you’re stable. That relief is replaced by frustration when they realize they have to wait to see you. Especially for Spencer. If he could walk more than two steps in this tiny room, he’d be pacing it. Once he starts rambling, not a single team member dare to interrupt him.

 It must have been 25 minutes of fidgeting, mumbling, and checking their watches before Carrie walked into the room, interrupting Spencer’s rant.

 “I don’t see why our badges aren’t enough proof that we can- Carrie. Finally, can we go see her now?” Based on the look in Spencer’s eyes, anything other than an affirmative answer would not end well.

“Spencer, of course. I just had to confirm your identity in person. It’s standard procedure when she’s in the hospital. For safety reasons. The doctor should be coming in any minute and she can take us to her room.” As if on cue, the doctor walked in.

 “Hello everyone, sorry to keep you waiting. Ms. L/N’s surgery went very well. The bullet was removed and all the internal bleeding was stopped before it got too bad. As you know, we’ve got her in a private room. She can have visitors, but limit it to one or two people at a time. Do you have any questions?”

 Spencer knows somewhere in his mind that he should ask the doctor everything about your condition, but he can barely keep it together enough to shake his head no. He doesn’t trust himself with words right now.

 “Alright, follow me to her room.” A parade of agents, along with Carrie, follow the doctor down twisting hallways to the private wing. “Now, remember one or two at a time. Last I checked, she was still asleep.” Spencer’s gaze drifts from the doctor to look at you through the window. At first glance, he would’ve sworn your eyes were open, but when he looked back again they were closed.

 “Once I go in there, I’m not coming back out until she’s awake.” He turned to the rest of the group.

 “Spence, it’s okay. You go in. Let us know when she’s awake.” JJ gave him a reassuring hug before her and the rest of the team wandered back to the waiting room.

 Spencer and Carrie walked in slowly, as if any sudden movement could hurt you. For the first time in his life, Spencer’s mind was completely empty.

 There were no statistics. No miscellaneous facts. Nothing.

 He looked at you, asleep in a hospital bed after you saved his life, and he allowed himself to just feel.

 It took a strange amount of concentration for him to only feel. His brain wants to butt in with statistics about the surgery or to count your breathing so he will notice any change in the pattern. But, he blocks it out. For you.

 He sits down in the chair beside your bed, grabs your hand in his, lays his head on the side of your bed, and feels everything.

 He feels all the love he’s been denying for the past week. He feels all the relief of knowing you are okay. He feels all the pain of watching you slip away from him. He feels everything he’s ever blocked out with numbers and statistics. And it’s exhausting. To feel so much at once.

 Without thinking about it, he feels his eyes grow heavier with each added emotion.

 Love.

Relief.

Pain.

Sadness.

Greif.

Anger.

Fear.

Gratitude.

Happiness.

 Just the prospect of being happy is heavy enough that Spencer falls asleep.

 The first thing he notices is that he’s running. He’s chasing someone. But not like he normally has to. No. There’s no unsub. Nobody is in danger. He’s playing a game. With children. His children. His and Y/N’s children. He has three daughters. The twins are older, around 6. The youngest is 4. They are helping him chase their mom. His wife. He’s built quite a future for himself in his head. He listens to the sounds of laughter, memorizing each individual’s laugh.

 He feels something squeeze his hand and he’s awake. Groggy, but awake. He wants to go back to the dream. To remember what pure happiness feels like.

 Then he remembers where he is. And why he’s there. The grogginess is gone. He’s alert in an instant. He’s looking at you, but you aren’t focused. You’re mumbling under your breath, looking for something in the sheets with your one free hand.

 “My phone. Where’s my phone? Was it real? Did I dream it?” You seem so flustered, and he can’t fathom why your phone could be so important, but he finds it for you nonetheless.

 “Thank you!” He watches as you rapidly open your phone, intently staring at the screen as if it might disappear.

 “What are you-” Before he can finish the thought, a voice- no, your voice is playing from your phone.

 “It was real…” You are clearly in a daze, but the happiness in your voice is contagious. Suddenly Spencer is smiling, pulling you closer to him as the lyrics to your song play in the background. He peppers soft kisses over any piece of skin he can reach. Your giggles fill him with even more love. Even more happiness.

 When the two of you finally separate, he asks the first question he can think of. “When did you write this?”

 You think back to your dream. The love. The joy. The pure happiness. You feel Spencer brushing the tears off your cheeks before you even realized you were crying. “It came to me in a dream. I… I guess I woke up earlier and I wanted to remember it. The dream. The song. It was all so beautiful. So happy. You were there. And then when I woke up I just recorded everything I could remember.”

 Spencer is looking at you with such adoration that you almost feel shy. You want more than anything for that dream to be a reality. Not right away obviously, but in the future for sure.

 “It’s beautiful.” His words are soft and low.

 “It’s about you.” If you weren’t in a hospital bed, you might be inclined to think you were still in a dream. “About us.”

“I love it. I love you.” Spencer whispers the words into your skin. Almost like it was involuntary, it slipped out like a breath.

 “I love you too.” He kisses you again, before the sound of the door opening breaks you two apart.

Carrie rushes in when she sees you’re awake, not realizing the moment that had just occurred.

 “Oh, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re okay!” She squeezes you lightly in a one armed hug, the other hand carrying a tray of coffees and a paper bag. “I brought coffee for Spencer and a scone for you!”

 “Well, I hope you poured a mountain of sugar into it. He likes it sweet.” You turn to smile at the man only to find him already looking at you.

 “Only as sweet as you.” You laugh at the cheesiness of the moment, but you blush anyway, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Carrie, for the coffee. I should go let the team know you’re awake.” He kisses your forehead before he walks out of the room.

 “Oh honey, you have a lot to fill me in on.” Carrie is looking at you with the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen. She has been your head of security for 4 years, and the two of you have become close friends through all the crazy experiences. Although, nothing as crazy as this.

 “What do you mean? I told you I thought he was cute…” You really have no hope of hiding this from her, but you can mess with her a little bit.

 “Yeah, but kissing you on the forehead? Calling you sweet in the corniest of ways? What’s going on? Tell me!!” You could leave her hanging, but you are really feeling the need to gush.

 “I wrote him a song. In my dream. I think it conveys everything pretty clearly.” You play the song for her, again remembering how you felt in the dream. When it’s over you’re nearly in tears again.

 “It’s stunning. Just so beautiful. I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you so happy.” You can tell she’s nervous about something, and you’ve got a pretty good idea of what.

 “Carrie, don’t worry about me. I really think he’s the one. I’ve never felt this strongly, especially so fast. And I know what you’re thinking, fast might not be good, but we’ve spent so much time together. I mean, think about it. How long does the average date last? 2, 3 hours? At that rate, we’ve already been on roughly 37 dates! And that’s if you don’t count the hours we spent sleeping, which we also did together!”

 Carrie snorts at that. “Yeah, sleeping.”

 “No, I mean actually sleeping.” You try to stress the point. “He kissed me once, but the rest of the time was spent getting to know each other, writing songs, him working on the case, and sleeping. Eyes closed, pajamas on, sleeping.”

 Her eyes soften, the smile on her face widening before she responds. “Okay. I won’t worry… too much.” You’re just about to tell her about the dream when the door opens again.

Penelope comes storming into the room with flowers and a teddy bear, whisper shouting about how happy she is that you’re okay. Just before you turn to give her your full attention, you can see Derek and Spencer talking in the hall.

 --

 “Come on Pretty Boy, what’s going on there?” Derek’s wearing his usual smirk for whenever Spencer’s love life is concerned.

 “What do you mean?” Try as he might, Hell would have to freeze over for Derek to stop this line of questioning.

 “I mean, I see how you look at her. Hell, we all watched you fall apart in the waiting room. What’s the deal? C’mon man, fill me in!” Spencer doesn’t know how to describe it. He doesn’t know how to convert the emotions he’s recently accepted into words, so he tries something else.

 “She wrote me a song.” Spencer’s words are wistful. He’s transported himself back into dreamland. Back to the kids and the games. Back to happiness.

 “Kid, it’s more than that. She wrote all of us songs.” Derek’s words cause the dream to sleep away yet again. .

 “No, well yes. Although technically we wrote that song about me together. I mean, she wrote me an entire song. In a dream.” This time, Derek replies too quickly for him to slip back into the dream.

 “Reid. You’re not making sense. You dreamt that she wrote you a song?” Derek’s words are comforting, like he’s trying to figure out the best way to help Spencer convey his emotions without pushing him too far.

 “No. She said after her surgery, she had a dream. About me. About… us. The song was playing in the background.” Derek nods, finally understanding his friend.

 “Okay, so what was the song about?” Again, his words are soft.

 “Us. The time we’ve spent together and the time she wants us to spend together in the future.” It’s taken Derek this long into the conversation to realize why Spencer seems so out of it. He’s happy. He’s not faking it. He’s not hiding behind statistics. He’s just happy. Plain and simple.

 “And that’s what you want to?” He can’t help but smile, really truly smile, at the pure look of adoration that Spencer wears when he looks through the window at you.

 “More than anything.” Derek pulls him into a hug. Normally, hugs like this are typically reserved for when they just saved each other or after a particularly bad case. This case, although involving Spencer’s kidnapping and a trip to the hospital, had a rather positive outcome.

 “Good. You deserve it man.”

 --

  A few days later and you are itching to leave the hospital. You’ve been working to reschedule your tour dates so you can fully recover before performing again, but even with that it’s incredibly boring to be stuck in the hospital for so long.

 “Good news. You can leave the hospital tomorrow!” Spencer walks in, followed by the rest of the BAU team. They’ve been taking turns visiting you, something you suspect Spencer asked them to do, but you don’t really mind. You’ve actually become good friends with most of them.

 “Yay!” Before too much celebration can occur, you’re passing out USBs to each team member. “I’m glad you’re all hear. I managed to record some preliminary versions of your songs! Listen to them whenever you’d like, or don’t that’s cool too. Either way, I’ll make sure to get you the properly recorded versions when I get a chance to go into the studio. I included some thoughts about other inspirationsas well, so don’t feel bad if there is a lyric that doesn’t really match you.” The majority of the team give you thanks and endless praise before Hotch clears his throat.

 “Our songs? Did I miss something?” You chuckle at that. The man clearly doesn’t miss anything ever.

 “Nobody told you? The first day I met you all, Pen asked me to write a song inspired by her. Trust me, it wasn’t hard. She’s a fountain of inspiration. Then when I was waiting for Spence to get back so we could go to the hotel, I came up with one or two for everyone!” You can’t tell if Hotch is more or less concerned now than when he was out of the loop.

 “So I have a song? What is it?” The rest of the team can’t hide their smirks. It’s clear they never get to see their boss act this nervous.

 “Well, it’s on the CD!” He groans at the idea of waiting when everyone else already knows. “But, since everyone else got a sneak peak, I’ll give you one too. Wasn’t it beautiful running wild till you fell asleep? Before the monster’s caught up to you… It’s okay, just wait and see. Your string of lights is still bright to me. Oh, who you are is not where you’ve been. You’re still an innocent.” You give everyone a minute to think about the lyrics before the silence is too much for you to take.

 “I’m sorry if that’s weird! It’s just, the first time I saw you, and there was this look in your eyes. In all of your eyes, but yours the most.” You are looking straight at Hotch. “Like you’ve been through some really terrible things, and maybe you had to do some things that can be hard to deal with. But, that doesn’t make you a bad person or anything, ya know? That’s where the inspiration came from…” You can’t tell if your rambling helped or not. The profilers are so hard to read. Pen is subtly crying near the side of your bed, so you pull her in for a hug. Before you know it, the rest of the team is joining in.

 “It’s not weird at all. You are pretty good at reading people, ever consider becoming a profiler?” Hotch is clearly trying to lighten the mood, but his expression conveys how much he appreciates the song.

 “I think this will be my first and last case. Clearly I’m not that great at talking down the bad guy.” You shudder to think of putting yourself in that position again.

 “From what I heard, you did a pretty decent job. The ending was exactly what we expected unfortunately. Plus, you can definitely hold your own. I heard you flipped Morgan over your shoulder like a ragdoll.” Rossi’s comment earns laughs from the entire group.

 “Please, I just caught him off guard. Although, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face afterwards.” Again, the groups laughs. “I just wanted to thank you all. For protecting me, but also for visiting me so much. You really know how to see the positive side of things.”

 “Anyone willing to jump in front of a bullet for Spencer is definitely a friend of ours.” JJ chimes in.

You can’t help but truly smile at the team. It seems you’ve found yourself another family, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

tag list:

@mac99martin , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @spencerhotchner , @girloncorneliastreet , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @moonshinerbynight , @meowiemari , @justanotherfangirl  , @im-so-wonderstruck , @eevee0722 , @raining13lemonade​ @dilaudidwinchester​ , @silverdagger69 , @thatsonezesty13 , @ladyravenclaw , @uwucorpse , @dark-night-sky-99 , @thechloethings , @http-cherries , @emilouu

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 24)

Pairing: JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Here we go!!!!! The final chapter to this series/rewrite!!!! Thank you to everyone who’s stayed with me and has left me with great feedback and compliments. I’m so grateful! I loved writing this series and I’m looking forward to season 2! As always I love you all and forever grateful for every single one of you! 

Word Count: 4k 

Chapter 23 Masterlist

JJ pulls me aside by Kie's car and lets me silently cry into his shoulder while he kisses the top of my head and tells me everything is going to be okay in sweet whispers. I let him hold me because I feel like I can finally breathe for the first time in weeks.

"I should have went with him," I mumble for the millionth time in his shoulder.

"Trust me, if nothing else kills him first, you would." I pull away and give him a confused look. He quickly explains with a small grin. "I think the reason you two lasted so long together was because the three of us were there to buffer most of your fights."

"It's not my fault he's stupid." I smirk.

"See?" JJ says like he just made his point.

I roll my eyes and look over at Pope and Kie when I finally hear them talking like friends again.

"I'm sorry for acting like a dumbass," Pope stammers. "I was just upset and I was acting petty..."

"Yeah," Kie agrees with him.

"And I just..."

"It's okay."

"...just wanna be friends again."

Another round of thunder rumbles above us and I know it's going to rain any second. But that's not what has my attention. It's the way Kie moves closer to Pope and how her hand gently caresses his cheek. Then their lips meet and they're embraced together as one.

My mouth physically drops to the floor and I cover it with my hand. I can't believe what I'm seeing. Only hours before, the two of them couldn't be further away from this moment. Pope hated her and Kie was adamant about being nothing but friends. I guess Kie did have a thing for Pope. She tried convincing herself otherwise and it didn't work.

JJ laughs next to me and squeezes me tighter to his side. He shakes his head but smiles proudly at his best friend for finally making his move.

Unfortunately, the moment is ruined by another wave of police sirens closer than I wish they were.

"Hey, guys, I'm sorry to ruin the party, but, uh, we gotta go right now," JJ says. Kie and Pope pull away from each other, both of them wearing delirious grins. "Come on!"

As we move towards the car, a round of about four different cop cars surround us with their red and blue lights and loud sirens. JJ backs up, making sure I'm right behind him by clutching my wrist behind his back.

"Pope..." Kie says worriedly.

"Move! Hands up! Hands up!" Officer Shoupe approaches us first with a mean scowl on his face. He looks at each one of us, no doubt looking for John B.

"Pope, hands," Kie says through clenched teeth when Pope hesitates to comply.

Shoupe's eyes land on mine and he holds my stare for a second longer than everyone else's. I make sure to keep my face stoic and unreadable even though I want to proudly smirk in his face and even say 'ha ha.'

"We're too late. He's gone. God damn it!" He says to his team. He speaks into his radio strapped on his shoulder. "Bratcher, have your guys stand down. Let me talk to these kids." Shoupe approaches us again and looks directly at me. "All right, where the hell is he? Where the hell is he?" When I don't say anything or even as much breathe in his direction, he looks at JJ. "JJ? I see you're living up to your name." Then he looks at Pope. "Pope, how about you? This isn't a fucking game! You can do the right thing now! Where'd he go?" Shoupe glances one last time at me before looking behind my shoulder. He pulls his radio up to his lips. "Suspect has just left Station 26 in a small boat."

The man on the radio responds. "Need marine patrol to respond."

Another crack of thunder strikes a new wave of nerves through my body. John B's barely out of here and I don't know if the storm is going to hold off long enough to give him a steady getaway.

Next thing I know we're being tossed in two separate vehicles. I keep my teeth clenched and my eyes forward. I pretend to look strong and committed when all I feel is nervous and scared.

The police bring us into a large tent set up to protect them from the rain. I'm literally in shock by how many people are here, working together to find my brother. Many men and women walk past us with rain jackets with the letters FBI on their backs in gold bold letters. I'm literally speechless by how important these people think my brother is.

Every word that comes from these people's mouths sound like a code I'm trying to decipher as they speak to one another.

"They're still trying to verify..."

"Mobilized..."

"Follow Plumb to that tent..."

"Wait for your friends..."

"...SBI on the scene..."

"They killed a person."

"This way." Someone physically tugs on my arm and pulls me to sit on a row of plastic chairs with my friends.

"...That's all you can say?"

Shoupe stands in front of me, temporarily distracting me from trying my best to eavesdrop on the other agents. "Sit down. Don't move. We got a lot to talk about." He looks at the agent who pulled me by my wrist. "Keep an eye on these kids."

I look up at the agent placed on babysitting duty. Younger, fit, brunette, stubble. He looks at each one of us like he's studying us, placing a mental bet on which one is going to break first. His gaze lands on me and he holds it longer than he did the others. They probably recognize my face as easily as they would recognize my brother's.

There's a lot going on inside and out this tent. Agents speak so fast with one another you might think they're speaking a different language. Every time thunder rumbles above us, I don't know if it's my heart or my stomach swirling with nausea. Rain is pouring down outside, each drop pelting against the concrete and drowning out the demands and orders of every superior agent.

The lights are bright against the dark wall that is outside. If I keep my eyes open for too long I think my head is going to explode.

I feel fingers interlocking with my right hand. JJ's looking at me like he's waiting for me to break like a fragile vase teetering off the countertop. I nod my head in a silent way of saying thank you and that I'm still confident our plan is going to work.

"Hey, we're back up. We got power," I hear someone announce.

My head snaps forward. I look outside the flaps of the tent opening. I can barely see the lighthouse, but the light circling around it is bright enough to light up the entire island.

"Shit," I curse to myself.

Ironically, power is all I wanted this summer. Mentally and, because of Hurricane Agatha, physically. But now, I dread it.

"That's them! There they are!"

Dozens of agents run outside with their binoculars, flashlights, and guns, and tasers. Immediately I stand up to follow, but just as quickly, I'm pushed back into my seat by our babysitter agent who isn't even cool enough to get an FBI windbreaker.

Kie's looking at me with as much fear as I'm feeling. My leg bounces anxiously and the hand I'm not using to squeeze JJ's is wrapped around the bottom of my seat tight enough to turn my knuckles white.

I try peering out through the plastic 'windows' of the tent which are just clear plastic tarps cut out in squares in the tent. Boats with red, white, and blue lights chase after another boat in the water - a boat that would be impossible to see if the lighthouse was still out of power.

"Subject is changing heading. They're heading south."

I look at our baby sitter's radio that's gripped tightly in his hand.

"Subject is attempting to escape to the south."

I look at JJ with wide eyes. "He's going straight into the storm."

I don't know if it's a second, a minute, or an hour later, but my name is being called. Another agent, this one more superior than the others, stands in front of me. He's tall, bald, has light brown skin, and bright hazel eyes. He's not smiling but he looks pleased with himself nonetheless and I don't know why because John B isn't captured yet.

"I think your brother would like to speak with you," He says.

My jaw tightens and I narrow my eyes in his direction. I don't believe him. John B wouldn't ask for me unless he knew this was the end. And it isn't. It can't be.

But if it is and I don't talk to my brother one last time, I will hate myself forever.

So I follow him despite the calls of disagreement coming from my friends. He and a couple agents behind him pull me into another tent where more important agents are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

People move out of my way like I'm Paris Hilton and they're the paparazzi. They look at me like I'm a celebrity and they're speechless with surprise and judgement.

But I don't care about the FBI, Kildare's cops, the rain or the storm. I care about the man sitting on the other end of the fold up table with a pair of headphones around his head and a fake look of concern on his face.

Ward looks up. When he sees me, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

"Ms. Routledge," The agent says to grab my attention.

I'm placed in a seat in front of Ward on the other side of the table. I don't take my eyes off of him for even a second. It's the first time I'm seeing him since our day on his boat. I hate that he's sitting here like he's a fucking victim and not the man who should be behind bars. I hate that he's being treated like an ally while my brother is being chased like a criminal.

But I love that he's looking at me like I can change all of that.

I take the headset from a woman agent next to me and place them on top of my head. I'm instantly met with rustling and whistling of the wind. A couple of disgruntled grunts swim through my ears and I know I'm listening to John B rolling through the storm on the Phantom.

"Don't listen to him. He's a liar!" John B yells into his radio. His voice comes out through the FBI's speaker so everyone can hear. Ward's lips press into a thin line and his hands tighten around the circular end of the headphones by his ear.

They must have tried to get Ward to talk John B down first. Maybe it's because Ward is technically still our legal guardian or maybe...

Maybe Sarah ended up finding him after all.

Ward finally rips his eyes away from me and looks down. "John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around." I'm met with nothing but heavy breathing from the other end. I hold my own breath and make sure not to move even an inch so I don't miss a single word that my brother has to say. My heart feels like it's being twisted, shredded, and torn apart by a wild bear. John B is in danger. Not by the cops but by mother nature herself. Out in the ocean where he can disappear forever. Just like my father did. And the thought itself is absolute torture. "John B, what are you doing?"

There's another long pause with seconds lasting as long as hours. My hear skips a beat when my brother finally speaks up again. "Ward Cameron, do you hear me?"

Ward looks at me again and slowly brings nods. "Yes. Yes, son, I'm right here. I'm right here. Please bring her back, okay? We'll work it all out when you get home."

I jump up from the table so fast, my hips bump against the table and shake the radio display on it. "You son of a bitch!" I yell at him, not caring about the hands pushing me by my shoulders to sit back down. Or the barks of other agents telling me to calm down. I want to rip Ward's head off his stupid shoulders and punt it into the deepest part of the ocean. Or a log shredder.

"You killed my father!" John B shouts through the speaker. It's the only thing that actually gets me to calm down and I glare straight into Ward's eyes. I don't pay attention to how the agents react to John B's accusation, because even with the truth out there, I don't trust them to move on it. At the end of the day Ward Cameron is Ward Cameron and my brother is just John Booker Routledge. "And you framed me for a murder I didn't commit. You took everything from me! You took everything from me! But I'm still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what's mine. So, you listen to me, all right? I'm coming for you." A small smirk tugs at the corner of my lips and a sense of pride runs through my fingertips from John B finally standing up for himself. "I'm coming for you."

For once, Ward Cameron looks shitless. Like he did when he realized his mistake on our fishing trip.

"You." The agent next to me points at the radio set and looks at me. "Talk to him! Talk to him!"

I look back at Ward Cameron and place the headset on my head. A crack of thunder shakes around me and I physically flinch away from it. "John B?"

Another pause. Silence that is deafening. "Marleigh? You okay?"

I can't help but laugh. "Come on, brother. You should know by now cops don't scare me."

I can actually hear John B laugh on the other end and it's the only thing that makes me feel better. "Yeah, I know."

"Are you sure about this, Johnny?"

I swallow the lump in my throat as I wait for his reply. "I'd rather die than go to jail for something I didn't do, Mar."

I feel the wall I put up when I was placed in front of Ward Cameron crumble within seconds. Tears cloud my vision at the realization that nothing I can do will stop John B from driving straight into that storm. And I hate that I understand him for it. Because I would do the same thing.

I look up at Ward as tears trail down my cheeks silently. I can tell he's calculating my next move, waiting for me to stop my brother.

"I'll take care of this, okay?"

"I know. You've always taken care of me." His voice cracks and another ripple of thunder rips through the sky. "I love you, Rocket."

A sob wracks through me and I push myself away from the microphone so he doesn't hear me feeling weak. When I gather my composure I push myself closer to the radio. "I love you, Bird."

The head agent slams his palm against the table in frustration. "No!"

I close my eyes and let the tears drown my vision. I feel like I've been placed in an ice bath. Frozen to the core, wanting to kick and scream my way out of it, feeling numb but also like I'm being ripped apart by something sharp.

Another agent walks out. "I wanna have Search and Rescue standing by."

"Any response?" A woman asks another agent.

That other agent shakes his head. "They're not calling it off yet."

Everyone's running around, talking into their ear pieces and looking at one another for any kind of clue on what to do next. I refuse to look at them because I know what's going to come next.

John B use to tell me that being a pessimist would be my downfall. He was always an optimist - hoping and aiming for the best. Believing Dad was alive kept him going where telling myself he wasn't helped me move on. Growing up, we would butt heads a lot. But as a team, we worked well together because he pushed me to go further in life and I helped him stay grounded when it was necessary.

But today, being a pessimist is my strength. Because I'm prepared when Officer Shoupe approaches me with a sullen and sorrowful expression. I don't even have to ask what's wrong because I know it's the last thing I want to hear.

"Marleigh," He says. I think it's the first time he's ever talked to me like I'm a person with feelings and not some teenager causing chaos on his island.

I'm nauseous. My heart is thudding against my chest so heavily I think it might crack a couple ribs. The blood running through my veins feels like it's been lit on fire and I'm on the verge of exploding. The dread and the devastation runs through me in half a second and then is suddenly replaced by a blinding white flare of rage.

"You!" I turn on my heels and try running up to Ward Cameron to wrap my hands around his throat, to pull a gun from the nearest agent and shoot him in the head with it, to tear his eyes out with my finger nails. But I'm easily stopped by the millions of agents that surround both of us. They physically pull me away, barely even flinching as I try clawing through them to get my hands on the entitled Kook in front of me. "This is all your fault! You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you! No - get off of me!"

I kick and scream until my throat is raw and my legs feel weak. Ward is pulled away from me so he can grieve the death of his own daughter. I only stop thrashing around when my body goes limp. My legs are rubber and my head is heavy. I fall to the floor and fold into my knees and cry the hardest I have ever cried before. I cry for the loss of my brother. For Sheriff Peterkin. For the justice my dad will never get. For the gold he's worked so hard to get live on without his name ever being mentioned with it.

I don't know how long I stay on the floor until someone helps me up. They place a windbreaker over my shoulders and walk with me to the tent where my friends are waiting for me.

My heart is a bloodless organ, my head a hollow skull. I can't feel anything from the thinnest part of my fingertips to the deepest emotion in my brain.

I follow Officer Shoupe and two other agents back to my friends like a zombie. I can't even look at my friends because I'm afraid they'll feel the same heated pain that I'm experiencing and I don't want  that.

Shoupe looks at them the same way he looked at me.

"Did you find them?" JJ immediately stands up. He tries meeting my eyes but I keep them focused on the dirt ground below me.

"No," Shoupe says.

"So, they got away?" I hate the hope laced in JJ's voice.

Another crackle of thunder makes me flinch.

Shoupe sighs. "We, uh...we lost them." He looks up. "I'm sorry."

A deafening silence falls around us and I finally look up. JJ's brows are pinched together in confusion and anger, Kie's about to burst into tears, and Pope looks frozen in shock.

"What do you mean you lost them?" Pope asks. "Like they're gone?"

"What are you talking about?" JJ demands.

Again Shoupe sighs. "They took an open boat into a tropical depression, Pope."

"So they're dead?" Pope asks.

"We don't know."

JJ snaps. He takes a threatening step towards the set of officers and points an accusatory finger at them. "You drove them through the storm, man! Are you kidding me? Come here!" It takes two agents to pull JJ away from Officer Shoupe. "I'm gonna kill you."

I don't even react to the outburst because I can't. I can't feel anything other than my own teeth clattering together and my lip quivering with the threat of a new round of tears.

"JJ, stop!" Kie tries to calm him down through her own sobs. But even I know, she's wasting her breath.

"I'm gonna kill you, you bastard!"

"Hey!" An agent scolds him.

"You killed him! He didn't kill anyone and you know it!" Pope yells along with JJ. He doesn't try to attack like the blonde, but he makes sure to get as close to Shoupe as possible.

Shoupe sighs. "We're still looking for him, all right?"

"Pope. Pope, just stop!" Kie pleads. She grabs onto Pope's arm and pulls him closer into her body. "Please, stop."

When JJ proves he's calm, he pulls me into him and holds me tight against his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist and let myself fall apart for a second time. I cry into his shoulder, not caring about the snot or tears that will probably ruin his second best button down shirt. I grip onto him so tight that I wouldn't be surprised if my fingernails ripped holes into the fabric. He's the only reason I'm still standing on my two feet. I can't feel my legs.

"Pope...Pope!"

Mr. and Mrs. Heyward run into the tent followed by Kie's parents. All four of them run to their kids and pull them into their own family group hugs.

I watch even though the sight destroys me. Kie with her two parents. Pope with his. I observe the way they hold their children, kiss the top of their head, and tell them everything is going to be alright. Pope keeps mumbling about how sorry he is and Kie is weeping into her mothers neck.

They have that and I don't. Not anymore. It's all been ripped away from me like a toddler and chocolate they're not allowed to have.

But it makes me even more grateful for JJ. Even though I hate that he's in the same boat as me, I know I can always rely on him to be by my side. We have each other and even though it doesn't always seem like enough, it is.

There's nothing that I wouldn't do for this man. He's my light at the end of a dark and dreary tunnel. My guide in life to live it to the fullest without any regrets. My life partner that's going to make me the happiest girl on the island one day. I couldn't ask for anything more from the love of my life.

Mr. Heyward looks up from his family moment and holds out his arm for JJ and I to join. JJ and I take advantage of it and let Pope's parents hold us like a parent should, despite any hateful feelings they have towards us for leading Pope down this road with us.

My brother's gone and I don't know how to comprehend that yet. I don't know where life's going to lead me and the future went from being adrenaline inducing to absolutely terrifying. With Kie, Pope, and JJ by my side, I'm hopeful that I can get through pretty much anything.

JJ's my rock and my leader. I will love him until the universe physically pulls him away from me. With him, I'll take on life one day at a time. Each one will be a struggle, but I made a promise to John B that I refuse not to keep until the day I die.

I will take care of this. I will make sure Ward Cameron gets what's coming to him. And I will not let him take anything else away from me. Not even over my dead body.

Taglist: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @moniamaybank @realistic-breadstick @urbinoutfiters @jeeperky @brebear121 @x-lulu @freddymaybank @jjpouggues @lemur46 @is-it-really-a-secret @kkmikayla @folkloverr @alexa-playafricabytoto @jjxrudy @migilini @buckysbcrnes @rochyu @itsagurl @dazzlingnights 

#jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x oc #outer banks rewrite

[statelies]

(   *  💀  /  jessie mei li, questioning, she/they )  —  is that emmeline vance i just saw rushing down the corridor? i hear they’re a twenty year old hufflepuff, returning for their sixth school year, but their friends would tell you that they are industrious & compassionate as well as blunt & graceless. if you want to know more about them, i guess i could tell you that they’re muggleborn, and from what i hear, they’re currently allying with the order. when our divination professor looks into their crystal ball, they see: falling asleep studying over open books, split open pomegranates, working under flickering candlelight, casual intimacy between friends, a kitchen full of laughter.

CHARACTER INSPIRATION: Izzie Stevens (Grey’s Anatomy), Callie Torres (Grey’s Anatomy) (+ Sara Ramirez, the they/she icon we all deserve), Kara Danvers (Supergirl), Charles Boyle (Brooklyn 99), Alina Starkov (Shadow and Bone), Janet (Not a Girl) (The Good Place), Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds).

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Implied Racism.

LINKS: Pinterest. Playlist (Coming Soon).

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

I N T R O

full name ➵ Emmeline Huan Vance

nicknames ➵ Emmy; Emma; Line; Em; Melly; Melsy; Vance; Hurricane

pronouns ➵ she/they/her/them

birthdate / age ➵ October 24th, 1959, 09:47 am / 20 years old

birthplace ➵ Brighton, East Sussex

childhood home ➵ Unknown home in Brighton, East Sussex — 162 Orchard Croft, Harlow, Essex

current residence ➵ Hogwarts, Scotland

religion ➵ agnostic; paternal grandparents were Methodist ( Protestant ) while maternal grandparents were also Christian

occupation ➵ full - time student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

P H Y S I C A L

height ➵ 5 feet, 2 inches / 157.5 cm

weight ➵ 48 kg / 106lb

body type ➵ hourglass shaped figure

hair ➵ dark brown, bordering on black; soft and wavy

eye color ➵ dark brown

dominant hand ➵ right

FC ➵ Jessie Mei Li

voice ➵ Jessie Mei Li

special characteristics ➵

small waist

has a birthmark on her right ankle that looks like an apple

pierced septum

smells of ➵

lavender hand lotion

pomegranate

cardamom, jasmine and orange blossom perfume

E M O T I O N A L

zodiac ➵ scorpio sun (x); sagittarius rising; cancer moon

MBTI ➵ ISFJ (“The Defender”)

positive traits ➵ industrious; compassionate; generous; warmhearted; benevolent; selfless; observant; honest; personable; kind.

negative traits ➵ blunt; graceless; meticulous; well-meaning; impatient; internalizes feelings; oversensitive; tactless; overbearing; clumsy.

likes ➵ Pumpkin pasties; duelling club; laughter; the rush of incoming patients; cooking for friends; Ballycastle Bats; Diagon Alley; being barefoot at the beach; roadtrips; apple juice; hugs from friends; nicknames; vanilla candles; the heat of a boiling cauldron; Sugar Quills; warm sweaters; pizza; pomegranate seeds; cheek kisses; taking photographs; finishing essays early; coffee with milk and two sugars; Queen; Aston Villa; cats

dislikes ➵ spam (the food); apparition; the Daily Prophet; starless nights; Kenmare Kestrels; karaoke; losing bets; skinned knees; snakes; pigeons; the colour fuschia (it’s too bright); ticking clocks; banana flavouring; funerals; Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans; Celestina Warbeck; mayonnaise; blue M&Ms; her lao ye; the word mudblood; leprechauns; fans of Kenmare Kestrels; losing football matches; witch Halloween costumes; rugby

amortentia ➵

birthday cake

fresh mint

old books

orange blossom

M A G I C

blood status ➵ muggleborn

wand ➵ Aspen, dragon heartstring core, 8 inches, hard

wand-quality aspen wood is white and fine-grained, and highly prized by all wand-makers for its stylish resemblance to ivory and its usually outstanding charmwork. The proper owner of the aspen wand is often an accomplished duellist, or destined to be so, for the aspen wand is one of those particularly suited to martial magic. An infamous and secretive eighteenth-century duelling club, which called itself The Silver Spears, was reputed to admit only those who owned aspen wands. In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.

patronus ➵ Hippo

E D U C A T I O N

Hogwarts class ➵ Hufflepuff, 1981

extracurriculars ➵

Hufflepuff Prefect / September 1979 - June 1981

Herbology Club & Greenhouse Keepers / September 1977 - June 1981

Toothill Duelling Club / September 1979 - June 1981

Wenlock Study Club / September 1979 - June 1981

courses & exams ➵

Ancient Runes - O

Astronomy - E

Charms - O

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Herbology - O

History of Magic - O

Muggle Studies - O

Potions - O

Transfiguration - O

Care of Magical Creatures - E

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

health ➵

walnut allergy

hayfever

pets ➵

Jíngyi; the long-eared owl

Shu; the white cat

handwriting ➵ Abuget

F A M I L Y

Deirdre (née Wilkinson) Vance ➵ paternal grandmother; retired nurse; deceased May. 1980

Edward Vance ➵ grandfather; retired soldier and miner; deceased Jan. 1980

Xiulan Wong ( Wong Xiulan ) ➵ maternal grandmother (lao lao); homeschooled; housewife; alive

Da Wong ( Wong Da ) ➵ maternal grandfather (lao ye); homeschooled; shop-owner; alive

Dr. Cillian Vance ➵ father; worked for/with the Red Cross UK (and the Hong Kong Red Cross); alive

Mei (née Wong) Vance ➵ mother; teaching assistant; alive

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌

emmeline had always known they were different. at first, it was because of her skin, the way she looked and spoke and could never find anyone to play with on the playground, her chinese middle name and her lao lao being the one to pick her up from school every morning. she would cry to her mother at night, cling to her arms like they were the port keeping her safe from the storm, and listen to her father sing, voice warm and tender as she drifted to sleep, but she never got the answers for why she was treated differently — never got answers for why she was the only non-white child in her school, never got answers for why they hated her so much, hated her existence. but she weathered through primary school, finding her footing in secondary school with her only friend, aisha, who never cared that she was different, that sometimes she could do things that nobody else seemed able to do, that she’d been encouraged to always tell the truth, nothing but the truth, that sometimes she’d say things that hurt, things that stung even though she never meant for them to.

for a while, the feeling of being wholly different faded, or at least, emmeline didn’t notice it quite so prominently anymore, and then suddenly it appeared again — but this time it had been because she didn’t know if she always felt like a girl. not a girl in the traditional sense, anyway, not some days. she liked dresses and fancy heeled shoes and tiaras, but found herself equally at home in plaid shirts and her father’s way-too-big suit jacket and kicking around a football, and for a half-asian barely a teenage… person (she’s still working on it), suspended constantly between two identities, it confused them (even though they’re perfectly aware now that those things are superficial, but the feeling still remains). the only person they ever talked to about it back then was aisha — their lifeline, their best friend, the one their parents reluctantly approved of because they had been so lonely for so long. while aisha was crushing on boys, sweaty and loud and just this side of too teasing, and starting to wear makeup and changing herself, emmeline was trying to find where she fit in, trying to understand who she was, who she is, why they feel so different.

in the midst of all that, emmeline’s letter to hogwarts came. just another difference for emmeline to feel, the knowledge that they have magic was unexpected and tore her family in two. the family she loved - her mother, her father, her lao lao and lao ye, and granny and pops - all had differing opinions on whether or not to accept it, whether or not to send them to school and deal with the fact, up front, that emmeline was, and always would be, special. in the end, emmeline’s pops snuck her out, following instructions from a professor mcgonagall, to find diagon alley, the place where emmeline suddenly felt she fit in. she could feel the magic in the air, could feel it almost crackling in the space around her, almost inviting her in. of course, it took some time — a little too much time, really — to buy everything she needed, and when she cried into her ice cream on the way home, overwhelmed and tired and feeling so many things, he was the one who held her all the way home. 

he and their granny were the only ones there to send them off the hogwarts that first year, their parents reluctant to accept anything so unnatural about their child, but emmeline hardly cared at the time (even though it hit them later that night and they sobbed into their pillow), too excited to remember to even wave, too excited to remember to cry because she was leaving behind the only friend she’d ever truly known, and when they saw hogwarts, that castle appearing, they just knew. they were home. she knows, after years and years of being torn between two identities on so many different fronts, that people aren’y happy she’s here, happy she has magic, happy she calls this place her home away from home, that she laughs loud at the hufflepuff table and wears yellow and black face paint for quidditch matches and tried out for the muggle football team, but there’s nothing they can say to change who she is, her pride in the blood flowing through her veins, in the magic at her fingertips. emmeline’s always known they’re different, but having magic, being home at hogwarts, is the first time she’s ever felt proud to be so.

#revelio.intro #emmeline; #god this is actually a mess but i am way too tired to deal with it #SDFKJDSF #so! here's. something ig. i'll decide if i hate this after i pass out and wake up tomorrow lmfao #implied racism cw #racism cw #i guess???? #it's mentioned so briefly. #but #better safe than sorry

[spencers-renaissance]

Don’t Be Scared, I Love You

Summary: JJ is shot and Emily's world stops spinning

Tags: whump, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective emily, NO mcd

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau 

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Emily has always been skeptical of ‘slow motion’ disaster moments. She’s been an active government agent working in the field for over a decade — that’s to say, she’s witnessed her fair share of tragedy — and it’s never quite that dramatic. But when a bullet from an unsub’s gun embeds itself in JJ’s shoulder, for a split second, Emily is powerless to react.

She’s stuck in time: JJ falls slowly to the ground, her hair spreading behind her in a golden halo, and she barely registers the gunshot coming from Derek’s direction, the kill shot that takes down the man she hates the most in the entire world at this exact moment. Blood pounds in her ears as a sinking feeling of dread pools in her stomach, a cold kind of fear spreading through her body and freezing her joints, her muscles, her mind. There is only a singular thought circling through her head:

I can’t lose her.

It’s only when she hears JJ whimper in pain that she snaps back into action, protective instincts clicking into motion as she throws herself down at her fiance’s side, barely registering the impact the cold concrete has on her knees, only focusing on the beautiful woman fading in front of her eyes. Immediately, she lays her palm on the gunshot wound, applying deep pressure in an attempt to quell the bleeding. It’s the right thing to do, she knows it will save JJ’s life, but continuing feels almost impossible when JJ cries out in pain, her face crumpling.

“Jayje, Jayje, baby,” she says desperately, at a loss for words for a moment, “hold on for me, okay? Hold on. You’re doing so well. Oh, God, I love you so much. Hold on for me.” Vaguely, she hears Derek calling for a medic, but every iota of her attention is on JJ.

Deep blue, disney princess eyes meet hers. This is half a relief — JJ is still conscious, she can hear her, she hasn’t lost too much blood yet — and half a curse — JJ’s eyes have always been expressive. Right now they are conveying the pain of the worst agony one can inflict on another, and they are completely coloured with terror. Terror Emily has no way to diminish, no way to ease. How does one refute possibly the most rational fear there ever was?

She can feel herself crying. She vaguely hears the rest of her team around them, but right now her entire world has shrunk down to this moment, to the woman she’s going to marry next year, to the woman she longs to have children with. This is not altogether uncommon. Emily’s world frequently shrinks down to comprise only JJ: when they’re in bed together, small moments when they catch one another’s eyes across the bullpen or in a meeting, evening walks down the brightly lit streets of the city they love so dearly. It’s never as painful as this.

Derek has taken off his top and is moving Emily’s hand to place the balled material over the wound. He takes over applying pressure; Emily only notices this because it means she can focus the entirety of her attention on JJ’s face and not the profusely bleeding hole in her shoulder. The crimson blood dripping from her palm only serves as a reminder of how close she is to losing the love of her life. To being single again, a widow, a hopelessly miserable, never-to-recover, bereaved shell of a human being.

“Emily,” JJ whispers, and she’s crying, too. Her face is not hiding a single emotion raging through her, and while Emily usually finds JJ’s wobbly chin endearing, right now it’s purely agonising. “Emily, I’m scared.”

Emily has to bow her head for a moment and heave a single, shoulder-wracking sob that seems to tear though her throat with the same violence of the bullet that tore through JJ’s shoulder. She blinks the tears away and sniffs once before looking back up at JJ and offering her a watery smile, the absolute best one she can muster, and uses her clean hand to gently comb her fingers through her blonde hair, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t be scared,” she whispers tearfully, brushing her thumb over JJ’s damp cheekbone, “I love you.”

“Don’t leave me,” JJ whispers back, tears still spilling down her cheeks, as they hear the sirens of the ambulance and a medic rushing into the warehouse, the floor of which will forever bear the stain of her fiance’s blood.

“I won’t,” Emily says through sobs she can no longer contain, “I won’t, darling, I’m here.”

“Promise?” JJ asks, visibly fading just as the paramedics arrive and ask Emily and Derek to make room.

“I promise, baby,” Emily cries earnestly, moving away just enough for the EMTs to do their job, just in time for JJ to completely lose consciousness.

⭐️

The hospital waiting room is warm, but Emily feels cold.

She stares blankly at the wall in front of her, a merciful sort of numbness taking over her body, leaving her far less frantic than the emotional wreck she was in the warehouse. It’s a kind of quiet far from peaceful, but she doesn’t have the energy to care. Her hands are so cold covered in JJ’s warm blood.

Spencer desperately tries to get her to come to the bathrooms and wash it off, but Emily refuses, just in case this is the last thing she has to remember JJ by. In which case, she has revolved to forever have a stained right hand as a permanent mark of her crippling grief. She will be branded by her devotion to JJ, and by the end that devotion came to.

Her only thought is of W. H. Auden’s poem Funeral Blues. It was read at her uncle’s funeral a few years ago. What a funny thing grief is: she could grasp the concept of such emptiness and utter misery filling your life after the death of a loved one, of course she could, but she’s never tangibly understood that kind of grief. She does now, and JJ — as far as she knows — is still alive. If she does lose JJ, though, she knows for an absolute fact that her life will forever lack meaning, lack purpose, lack joy.

Pour away the ocean, indeed, she thinks. Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.

Emily knows, academically, theoretically, the damage a bullet can do. The shoulder is a complex weave of nerves, muscles, bones, tendons, and arteries; really, it’s one of the most complicated pieces of human anatomy, so, naturally, a gunshot wound in that particular area is far from desirable.

Spencer tells her as they’re waiting that the amount of blood JJ lost indicates that instead of the bullet hitting the incredibly delicate network of blood vessels, which would have led her to bleed out in minutes, it instead shattered the joint. This is good news and bad news. JJ is still alive. But she will need reconstructive surgery. She may never regain full range of motion. She will need months, maybe years of physio. Emily doesn’t know if this is what she wants to hear or not, but she vaguely appreciates that Spencer is falling back on his academic knowledge of an incredibly emotional situation as a coping mechanism.

Not that anyone really doubted it, but Spencer is proved right by the doctor that comes to greet the family of Jennifer Jareau six and a half hours after they arrived.

“Ms Jareau’s humerus was shattered, and her clavicle and scapula did not get off scot free, either. Luckily, the bullet missed her large axillary vessels, which is the most consolation I can offer you at this stage,” the doctor explains kindly. “We’ve stabilised her condition through surgery in which we did our best to tidy her shoulder, but she will be needing a total shoulder replacement in the very near future. Though, I understand she resides in DC and is in well-enough condition to be transferred there for the major operation and ensuing recovery.

“I understand… Emily Prentiss is her next of kin?” she asks, consulting her clipboard.

Emily nods blankly, the reassurance that JJ is alive beginning to settle in, weaving its way into her heart.

The doctor smiles empathetically. “I can take you to see Ms Jareau now. Her sedation will be wearing off any minute.”

The world gradually stirs back into colour as Emily lays eyes on JJ, very much alive, blinking sleepily in her hospital bed. Her gown is carefully tucked around the bandage on her shoulder and the fabric sling her arm has made its home. She’s ever so pale, sweat beading on her brow from the pain, but she’s alive. Emily will not have to recite Auden in a Church built for a God she doesn’t believe in while the only person that made her believe in anything lies in a coffin. Alright, she thinks as she walks into the room and sits down next to JJ’s bed, the moon can be unpacked. The sun reassembled.

As JJ manages a smile, though, reaching her good arm out for her fiance, craving physical comfort and affection, Emily thinks that the stars don’t need to be relit. The one in front of her, broken as she might be, long as her journey to recovery is certain to take, is bright enough to put all of them to shame.

Emily can’t help but break down in tears of gasping relief as she clasps the hand JJ’s outstretched for her, gripping it tightly and bringing it to her face, kissing it gently before pressing it to her cheek as her crumpled eyes leak pitifully.

“Hey, don’t be scared,” JJ murmurs in her croaky, post-surgery voice as she echoes Emily’s words some seven hours earlier, “I love you.”

Emily can’t help but laugh happily through her relieved, messy emotion at that, leaning forward to press a warm kiss to JJ’s slightly chapped, pale lips.

“God, I love you so much,” she promises, so much sincerity behind her words that JJ tears up in response. “I’m gonna be here through every step of the journey ahead, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know that,” JJ whispers, as her face contorts, emotion twisting her throat in knots. “I never doubted it for a second.”

And, well. Doesn’t that just say everything Emily needs to hear.

Clasp me close in your warm young arms, While the pale stars shine above, And we’ll live our whole young lives away In the joys of a living love.

- I Love You, Ella Wheeler Wilcox

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

#my writing #jemily #jemily fic #jemily writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #jj #emily #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #emily prentiss/jennifer jareau

[stayforya]

SPRING DAY | MIN YOONGI

member: min yoongi

genre: soulmate!au

words: 7.9k

summary: from the moment you said hello to the moment you teared apart, from winter to spring – you never stopped thinking about each other, not even a day.

a/n: every time I listen to spring day, I can imagine many scenarios and this is one of them. long time friends/lovers who keep meeting again because life doesn't seem to want them apart.

spring, 5 years ago

spring is one of the most beautiful seasons. after a long, cold and monochromatic winter, the flowers start to bloom, the trees become green again and the fresh air and bright sun breathes life into people’s faces. you were going through a good moment – finally started college, met new people, got into a whole new world. even though you weren’t very good at starting things over, the challenging feeling would always be worth it in the end and you were quite excited about the unknown this time. the idea of ​​how unexpected life is and how the little moments of today can become decisive in the future has given you a sense of "destined to be". the random person you partnered with for an assignment in the first few weeks of school was now your best partner, for instance. 

later that day, you finished everything you had to do. in the front courtyard of the university, the cherry blossoms were blooming and some petals even fell due to the strong wind that blew every now and then. it was a romantic setting, some couples were walking and hugging, some people (like you) were watching or reading books under the trees, and a few others seemed to be living a decisive moment on a beautiful day. a day like that didn't go well with breakups, but the couple sitting on the bench a few meters from where you were seemed to be going through a difficult time.

“just tell me right away. you’re letting me go because you found a better one, isn’t it?”, his voice was stable and calm, as if he wasn't sad. but his face showed something else, he barely looked at the woman beside him.

“where would I find someone better than you? listen, what I’m saying is that we are both going through a hard time”, she explained, gesturing a lot.

“we are not going through a hard time in this relationship. our issues come from college, job, these kind of stuff. but between us, isn’t it all fine?”

she remained silent, no longer looking at him but at her own hands on her legs. you felt weird for listening to that conversation while keeping your head hidden behind the book you were reading.

“my family and I have other plans for me now. I’m going abroad”, the woman said. that made the guy immediately look at her, probably looking for answers in her face, but all he could find were more questions.

“so why are you creating excuses? why didn’t you say it right away?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you! and I am hurting too”, she was actively defending herself as if she was being wrongly accused.

“are you? are you really? I am almost graduating and I have no steady job, but I would move heavens and earth to find anything that would make you feel safer with me. I was ready to give you whatever you needed.”

his words were so sincere she started to cry. you could see the tears falling down from her big eyes and his hands reaching hers. she didn’t let him touch her hand because she reached out for a hug, holding him closer not to keep him, but to say goodbye. you didn’t know if he still had hope, if he was still waiting for her to change her mind and stay with him.

“you can’t give me what I need, yoongi. I’m sorry”, she said looking into his small and sad eyes that didn’t shed a tear.

“will you come back?”, he asked.

she shook her head in denial, “I still don’t know. don’t wait for me, though, you’ll find someone better.”

he didn’t say anything else while she stood up and left. he also didn’t look her way again, maybe because it would make the moment even harder. by the way his face seemed unbothered, you knew he was the type that hurts inside. the type that wanted her to stay, even though he didn’t ask for it directly. you spent the rest of the day thinking about this couple, the reasons that made her go away. as a believer, you know everything happens for a reason and you were dying to know how that love story would lead to the other chapters of that couple’s life. it was just your common habit, to imagine what fate had prepared for people, how moments interconnected and how paths could cross again. you always think about it, always about others, never about you. 

didn't fate have something ready for you too?

winter, 5 years ago

rainy days were great... when you were home. to go out in the pouring rain could be very annoying, considering what the wet weather makes to your hair and how tricky it is to run under the rain. as if you didn't know that, you still left home late. you had this very important presentation about modern art at the fine art department, which was open to the public. thankfully, there would be many other presentations happening at the same time as yours and the rain could make people give up going. the auditorium was reasonably full when you arrived. there were fifteen minutes to go and your professor was already looking at her watch impatiently when she saw you walk through the doors.

“I thought you wouldn’t come!”

“I’m sorry, ms. lee. the rain didn’t help at all”, you sighed, putting your bag on the table. “is everything ready?”

“yes, we still have some time. here”, she handed you a bottle of water. she was a great professor. that presentation wasn't the easiest thing you had done in life (in fact, it was very challenging), but she believed you when she chose you after a classroom presentation. and when someone believes in you, you must also believe in yourself. 

during the remaining fifteen minutes, more people arrived and you went up the stairs to the auditorium stage. your heart was beating so hard that you could only hear the blood pumping. talking about modern art is a pleasure to you. from the historical to the visual – when the pictures appeared on the big screen behind you –, it was like immersing yourself in the painters' minds. all you wanted to do was to transmit some passion on to those who were watching the presentation, because that is exactly what you feel when you are studying the fascinating world of art.

and so you did. you didn’t have more than thirty minutes to say everything you wanted to say, but it went just like you rehearsed a hundred times at home. it was fascinating to see some unknown faces enjoying the historical and visual travel you tried to communicate through the images stamped on the big screen. after you, someone else would present too for the next thirty minutes, so you sat down to watch and breath again, feeling as if a heavy weight was taken off your back.

“what is the next presentation about?”, you whispered to your colleague. 

“it’s about the relationship between music and art”, he gave you the flyer of the event. you found your photo there, along with all the people who would be presenting that week, schedules and themes. you were too focused on that flyer, but when classical music reached your ears, your attention went directly to the stage.

the man on the stage was wearing all black clothes. the turtleneck shirt, the coat on top of it and the glasses made him look like a professor, but you knew that everyone who was presenting was still a student. he spoke smoothly, which perfectly matched what he was talking about and made the entire auditorium pay attention not to miss a word. somehow that spell was hitting you too. you had studied a lot what you needed to say, but the way he spoke seemed like he had already been born knowing everything. it was a relief that he took the stage after you and not before.

after all, everyone got up and started to leave the auditorium. the organizing team, however, remained there and so did you. the turtleneck guy (you decided to call him like that) was there, still talking to two people who went to ask him questions after the presentation. you were also finishing a brief conversation with a girl very interested in modern art.

ms. lee called you and you immediately answered. she wanted to thank everyone for the hard work, as she always did. you saw the turtleneck guy approaching the group too.

“it was great, everyone! we shall do it again”, the whole group smiled. “of course I need to thank the team from music department, thank you for joining us and bringing so much content to today’s meeting. mr. min, your professor must be very proud of you.”

it seemed like everyone knew who mr. min was, you were the last one to find out by looking at the same direction as ms. lee. the turtleneck guy was mr. min and it sounded even more sophisticated.

“thank you, ms. lee”, he formally thanked while a shy smile appeared on his lips. you wondered if you were overanalysing him, since you couldn’t lose any opportunity of looking at him, mainly because his face was somehow familiar. 

you didn’t know you’d do what you did next until you already had done. when everyone started to leave the auditorium, you followed mr. min-turtleneck for some reason.

“congratulations on your presentation”, he looked back to find out who was the owner of the voice. it was okay to say that, right? you and him were the ones who presented something, so it was perfectly okay to congratulate him.

“oh, thank you. congratulations on yours, too”, it was kind of... nonchalant. or maybe you were expecting more, even though he didn't say more than this to anyone else during the last minutes. 

he kept walking and you stood in the hall, wondering if you should walk into another auditorium to attend a lecture or just go home. the rain hadn’t ceased, you could see through the big glass doors of the building, and your professor and colleagues had gone somewhere else, but you had already lost sight of them. you walked to the glass doors to watch the rain while you waited for it to stop. it wasn't like you had nothing to do, you just weren't in a hurry to get home.

your phone was ringing non-stop because of the messages, which you read and replied quickly. the ideal for that post-presentation night was to go out with your friends, eat something, have fun. however, everyone was busy or traveling, so you would have to deal with an evening alone watching netflix and eating chips (which wasn't too bad, honestly).

you felt a human presence next to you, but you were too absorbed in watching the rain to look at the person. only when you heard the sound of someone putting up an umbrella, you redirected your attention. about to step out of the building, there he was: mr. min. you swear you looked at him for only two seconds, but it was enough for him to notice and look back at you. you didn’t avoid eye contact, though, because it would be more awkward and, honestly, you didn’t know what to do when the whole hall was empty, leaving you and him alone.

“do you have an umbrella?”, he asked. the words ran out your mind for a moment.

“I don’t”, you answered. it would definitely be easier to say you did, so the conversation would be over and your mind would be at ease again, because your brain was working so hard you didn’t understand what was going on. was it because he was a very smart guy and you were scared to sound stupid?

“do you want to...”, he didn’t finish the sentence and you felt so much better to see he was feeling awkward to say that too. mr. min was pointing to his own umbrella with his head, which meant he was willing to help you get to the bus station or wherever you were going.

“it’s fine, I can wait.”

“it doesn’t seem like it will stop anytime soon...”

you looked at him for a while and shrugged, “fine”. you were proud of yourself, since you seemed calm and unconcerned by the way you responded . your brain rested a little now that the situation was under your control, but it didn't take long for you to feel tense again. he wouldn't borrow the umbrella, he would go with you under it, and the space seemed too small. “you can leave me at the bus stop”.

the whole one minute walk was silent. when you reached the bus stop, you were ready to say goodbye and thank him for the help. however, he didn’t leave, he put down the umbrella and stood there.

“it’s okay, you can go if you want to...”

he looked at you, confused, “go? where?”

you were as confused as him. “wait, will you wait for the bus too?”

“yes. why did you think I was here?”, his tone was calm, but you felt your face warming slowly as if you said something wrong. “wait, did I sound harsh?”, there was a bit of concern in his voice.

“no”, you giggled. 

“oh. I thought I made you blush because I sounded harsh.”

“huh? you didn’t- forget it”, you gave up and he smiled, not looking at you. you just stood there, waiting for the bus. it took about five minutes, but it felt like forever because you and mr. min were in complete silence. by the way, calling him ‘mr. min’ was starting to sound weird now that you saw a glimpse of his sense of humor.

when the bus arrived, he started to move and you noticed he was about to get on. he was closer to the door, so he got on first and sat on the chairs at the back. the bus was almost empty, just you, him and three people sat separately. where would you sit? would it be weird to sit far from him after getting to know him, or it would be better to sit next to him since you got to know him? it was pretty confusing and you had to think quickly. 

he was looking through the window when you sat by his side, unbothered by your presence. you were feeling stupid for sitting there and for the fact that your heart was beating faster than it should in this situation. why was that, though? maybe because of the mysterious vibe he had and how he started to show a glimpse of his personality when he joked about you blushing.

you knew breaking the silence was the only way to make it less awkward. “are you going home?”

“no, I’ll meet some friends”, he said, looking at the watch on his left arm. you never noticed watches a lot, for you they were just essencial items. but looking at his left arm, relatively close to yours, that silver watch was shining and his hands were so beautiful. you scolded yourself for paying attention to those details, after all, it would only lead you to have a crush on someone who had a high chance of never seeing you again. “you?”

“I’m heading home”, you felt his eyes indirectly looking at you. 

“you don’t seem very excited about it”, he said and you still felt his eyes on you. he was looking at your arms holding your bag, because you two were a little too close to look at each other’s faces.

“I am not, indeed. I’ll just buy food and watch a nice christmas movie”

“so, netflix and-”

“stop there, just netflix”, you interrupted him immediately because you didn't know if he would complete the sentence. he laughed after he understood what you were saying.

“I was just going to say netflix and eat”, discreetly, he raised his hands in surrender. “what are you planing to watch?”

you shrugged, “anything, from the grinch to a cliche rom-com.”

“it sounds fun, though”, he started to look at the window again.

“you don’t look like someone who watches the grinch or cliche rom-coms”, you said.

“it depends. I think everyone needs to watch movies like these once in a while.”

“and christmas time seems like the perfect time to watch them.”

“exactly”, he agreed. it didn't look like he was the serious person who was giving a lecture an hour ago, because of the way he managed to get from that to someone talking about fun movies with a stranger on the bus, and that said a lot about him. “oh, I gotta go”

the bus slowly stopped close to a busy street full of restaurants and people. he stood up and looked at you before the door opened.

“I’m yoongi, by the way”, he said.

“I’m y/n. nice to meet you”, you smiled without much excitement, a little disappointed because he was getting off the bus. 

summer, 4 years ago

it was finally summer time, the sun was bright and high in the sky. you felt it warming your skin and it felt good, because it was time to have fun. your friends called, wondering where were you. they were waiting for you at a restaurant, with some other friends of them and people you probably didn’t know yet. but to be honest, you were excited. it was summer, time to have fun and enjoy. plus, you were free for that day and the whole weekend too.

you entered through the front glass doors, thankful for the cold air conditioner that reduced the heat, because the day was really hot outdoors. your friend raised her hand, signaling where they were, and you walked to the table. there were ten people there, most of them you didn’t know but already had seen before.

you sat next to your other friend and she immediately asked if you wanted to eat something. you said yes, while she started to introduce you to everyone, but then your eyes met someone else’s. his eyebrows raised discreetly and you tilted your head to the left, trying to understand if you were really seeing what your eyes were witnessing. 

“we know each other”, he said when your friend said his name and yours, introducing both of you.

“really?”, she was surprised and glad at the same time. the way her eyes looked at yours said something, you immediately remembered: she said you and one of her friends definitely should meet, because you two would match well. was it him?

“yeah, we met before. it’s good to see you again”

“you too”, he said and then everyone started side conversations. he was sitting in front of you, which made him comfortable to talk a little bit more. “did you watch the grinch?”

“hm?”, you almost choked on what you were drinking, “you didn’t forget, right? actually I watched it and other two movies that night.”

“oh, it was a long night, then”, he took a sip of his drink.

“yep, it was”, you took a sip too.

when all of you left the restaurant, the sun was almost setting and the weather was much better. each would go their own way, some as a couple, others among friends and others alone. your two friends were accompanied by their boyfriends, but they still asked if you would like them to go home with you. you said you would be fine, you wanted to buy some stuff before going home, anyway. 

“didn’t you like him?”, one of them asked.

“who? yoongi?”

“yeah, he’s the guy I mentioned, the one that matches you well.”

you laughed, “no, forget it. but he’s nice.”

“well, you should give it a shot...”, she shrugged and smiled. yoongi said goodbye to his friends and walked up to you with his hands in his pockets. there were only you and him behind everyone else. 

“are you going to ride the bus?”

you looked at him quickly, “no, I’ll buy some stuff before.”

he nodded and didn’t say anything else, which forced you to speak again to keep the conversation going. you wanted to talk to him.

“and you?”

“I have nothing to do right now.”

“is this your way of offering to go with me?”

“excuse me?”, he looked at you and smiled. you noticed you were smiling too, because looking at his face made you smile for no reason. “if you want me to go, just ask.”

“I want you to come with me. what about it?”

“I will go with you, thanks”, he was acting so cool you laughed at his attitude.

walking around with yoongi wasn’t supposed to be that fun – at least you didn’t expect it to be. he helped you to find nice sneakers, laughing at the ones that didn’t fit your style at all. he went to the makeup store with you, giving an opinion on everything you tested (but his opinion wasn’t always valid because, when it comes to makeup, he said all of them looked good on you). 

“do you want to eat something?”, you asked, “you must be hungry.”

“nah, we have been walking for just four hours”, he exaggerated and made you laugh. you were walking just for one hour and a half, maybe.

“is that so boring to walk around with me that it feels like four hours?”, you pretended to be offended, but he hesitated for a second, as if reflecting on what he said before. “I’m just kidding”, you said.

“you really got me thinking for a second”, yoongi said and you two laughed for real. when you laugh with someone, it's like a connection is created between you. that's exactly what happened, and because of that connection, the two of you were closer, including physically. if at the beginning of the meeting you were a little far away, respecting the space, at that moment you could already feel your hand touching his when the bags you were holding hit the ones he was holding.

yoongi said he knew a nice place to stop by and eat, so you told him to take you there. it was a lovely cafe with a pleasant atmosphere, and he guided you to the second floor, where there were fewer people and more space to be at ease. he asked for the bag that was in your hand, added it to the bag that was in his and placed it near you.

“I’ve never been here, it’s nice”, you said.

“I come here mostly by myself, it's a quiet place to work. and the food here is great”, yoongi looked through the glass wall, through which you could see the street.

“and you work with music”, you guessed it from the lecture months ago.

“yes, I do”, he smiled slightly, but with satisfaction. you could tell he was looking even more cute at that moment under that light. “I like it very much, to be honest. but tell me about you too”

“what do I do? I am still studying art and now working with it. an internship”, you said.

“by the way you spoke at that lecture, I’m sure you’re doing amazing”, he said, but didn’t look directly at your face. the way yoongi was confident at some moments and shy at other ones made you smile every time.

the conversation was interrupted by the person bringing the orders. you thought you both would eat in silence, but none of you could stop talking. he asked more about you, and you answered, also asking about him. it was obvious how you two wanted to know each other in a short amount of time, as if at the end of the date you would part ways for a long time, like before.

you liked when he laughed at what you said, because it felt like winning an award. yoongi was deeply into that conversation, almost forgetting to eat the cake you two were sharing.

“if you don’t eat, I’ll do it”, you said.

“I’m full just by watching you eat”, he said and you giggled immediately, “was it too cringy?”, he laughed too.

“no, it wasn’t”, you knew your eyes said it all. you were having way too much fun.

yoongi told you stories about his work, his university years and his friends. you could say he was comfortable with you by the way he spoke easily, not holding back details. you enjoyed to listen to his intelectual side, the way he knew everything about music; but when he told you stories about his life, it was even more enjoyable. 

but he didn't just talk, because he wanted to know about you too. after only two or three questions from him, you were comfortable talking about your life and your plans. it wasn’t difficult to do that because he didn’t judge what you said or thought, he was interested. 

it is extremely difficult to put some feelings into words, but to shorten the story: the feeling was that you had found much more than a nice person, but a connection so strong that for a minute you could believe in soul mates. not soul mates who can’t live without each other, or who are incomplete on their own, or who knew each other from other lives, as people said. not like this. you felt like you connected more than through a good conversation, or physically, but in an even deeper way.

after eating and being much more closer than before, he walked to the bus stop with you. it was time to part ways and you were already missing the unexpected date you and him had. 

“let me give you my number”, he said, right away. you felt your heart skip a beat.

“here”, you handed him your phone. he called his number so your number could show up on his phone and he saved it.

“I had a great time today”, you said, not looking directly into his eyes.

“me too”, hands on the pockets. “wasn’t it unexpected? how we met today.”

“yeah, I had no idea we had mutual friends.”

“neither did I, even though my friends know a lot of people”, he smiled. “but it was a nice surprise to see you again.”

you finally looked at him. his eyes were affectionate, just like everything about him.

“then we should see each other again”, you said.

“then don’t go”, he joked, but he was also saying the truth. “you can call me, ok?”

“I’ll be waiting for your call, too”

“I’ll do it at the moment I ride the bus”, he said and you smiled. 

you got closer to him, your arms touching his. why wait? slowly, you touched his arms and placed yourself into them. you hugged him and he hugged you back, trying to hold on from not holding you closer and tighter. you felt his head touching yours. 

you and yoongi were so close that when you separated from the embrace, it was inevitable that the faces wouldn’t touch. then, without thinking too much, the two of you leaned in sync for a kiss. his gentle and warm lips touching yours, warming not only your face but your whole body. yoongi’s right hand stroked your hair and the side of your face, which made you forget everything else. he smiled when he noticed you liked the kiss. yes, you liked the kiss and you liked him. you liked to spend time with him. you could forget the bus, but it was almost arriving. your hand touched his neck and you left a last kiss on his pink small lips, noses touching.

autumn, 3 years ago

in one year together, a lot happened to you and yoongi. a lot of great things. you had dated before, but no one could ever compare to him. he was something else, he was special. he could be a very serious and focused guy when working, fun and affectionate when with you. was it possible not to love him? not to want to spend your whole life with him?

the way he holds you, kisses your cheeks with his pink lips, buries his face on your neck, caresses your hair. the way he tells you beautiful things, talks to you about his feelings, plays the piano while you’re around, watches the corniest movies with you and make fun of every cheesy line of it.

he doesn’t say he loves you all the time, because he shows it through every single thing he does for you and with you. but when he says it, he’s so sure, so intense, you could marry him right away. 

“you look tired”, he said, as tired as you after a long day of work.

“it’s because I am”, you smiled looking at him. you two were cuddling on the sofa. 

“do you want to eat?”

“no, I’m fine”, you touched his hair. “how about you?”

“as long as I’m with you I’m good”, he hid his face on your neck so his voice was barely audible.

you caressed his hands until he looked at you again, then leaning to a kiss. he loved when you kissed him first, he once said it (and never again, because he was shy to admit sometimes, but you knew it just by the way he smiled when your lips touched). he touched your arm, shoulder, neck, until his fingers were placed comfortably in your hair. he kissed you slowly and when your lips parted, still close enough, he looked at you and said “I love you”. he meant that. he always did. he meant it with his gentle touch, kisses, hugs, words, and even when he didn’t say anything but cared for you in so many ways. “please, just stay forever”, you whispered against his lips. he gave you a smooch. “between you and I, nothing will ever change”.

that moment lasted forever. it really felt eternal and you didn’t want to leave. you were in his apartment, which was almost half yours just by the amount of time you spent there. he gave you the password, said you could go there whenever you wanted, even if he wasn’t home. you did the same, gave your password to him, and that led you to a bunch of times he surprised you when you arrived home. wherever, to be you and him alone was the best thing in the world.

the bell rang and took you out of that moment. it was not eternal, after all. you hadn't ordered food, nobody was coming to visit. what could it be? you stayed there, sitting on the sofa, and yoongi got up to open the door, without even checking who was it through the screen next to the door. he didn't expect it to be who it was. he was too sure it was probably someone knocking on the wrong door, but it wasn't.

“jia?”, you couldn’t see who it was from where you were sitting, but he sounded very surprised.

“hey, long time no-”, she walked in and found you on the sofa, as confused as she was from that moment on, “oh, sorry.”

you got up quickly, as if you were a visitor and not the person who has been in that house almost every day in the last few months. “it’s okay”, you tried to smile.

“I’m jia”, she said.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you”

yoongi was still there, but you almost forgot. he was the central figure in the story, the person who knew you and knew jia, yet he was immobilized behind her. you could see him from where you were and he was uncomfortable, you knew it.

“sorry, y/n, this is jia. and jia, this is... y/n”, he said, pausing before he said your name. you thought he would say who jia was and who you were, but he didn’t. “I didn’t expect you to come here”, he said to her. 

“I thought you were by yourself, that’s why I came over. I arrived last week, but I lost your number... anyway, I’m sorry for interrupting”, she looked at you and you could say she wasn’t expecting you there. for some reason you felt like you were the person who was interrupting, because something about the way jia and yoongi communicated had some kind of familiarity from long before you.

“yeah, hm... the boxes are in the bedroom”, yoongi extended his arm towards the bedroom door. his bedroom. jia excused herself and opened the bedroom door, once again with such intimacy that it felt like she lived there for a long time. still standing there, you thought: maybe she really lived.

yoongi breathed out through his mouth, running a hand through his hair.

“won’t you help her?”, you said. it came out of your lips before you even think properly. he finally looked at you.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting it to happen... like this.”

“was it supposed to happen, then?”, you asked, looking for your bag.

“yes, she was supposed to pick up her stuff a long time ago. I was almost sending it to charity... wait, are you going?”

you tried to look at the bedroom discreetly and saw jia there, “well, she’s right now sitting on your bed, I don’t think she’ll leave too soon.”

“hey”, he knew you were uncomfortable with the situation, “I’m sorry, it really was unexpected... jia is my ex girlfriend, as you may have noticed. we broke up a long time ago and now she’s just picking up her stuff.”

“yoongi”, jia showed up with a medium box and a backpack. yoongi, who was touching your arms, stopped instantly. you noticed, of course. “I couldn’t find my perfume anywhere”

“maybe you didn’t put it in the box or it’s just not here”, he said.

“yeah... that was a good one”, she looked at him and they were communicating through their eyes, a communication you were not part of and you would not understand. “hope you’re not keeping it, huh”, she joked and laughed.

you couldn’t see very well, but yoongi smiled for a second. what was happening there? were they just very friendly? you were there. his girlfriend. why were they acting as if you were just another friend standing there, or worse, as if you weren’t even there?

“I’ll open the door for you”, he walked her to the door and you stood there. you wanted to move, but somehow you were stuck.

“see you?”, she smiled at you.

you smiled back, “see you”, even though you didn’t really mean it. 

“oh, this is heavy...”, jia said.

“is your car downstairs?”, yoongi asked, opening the door.

“no, I took a cab here. I’ll just take the bus home now. it’s not that late, right?”

you showed up next to them, bag on your shoulder. yoongi looked at you and you felt like she was indirectly asking him to take her home. 

“I can... give you a ride, I guess”, he looked at her and then at you, wondering if you were okay with that. “it only takes ten minutes, I’ll come back”

“no problem, I’m also going home”, you said.

“won’t you wait? I thought you’d-”

“stay?”, you completed the sentence, “next time. bye”

you walked out. when you reached the sidewalk, you felt weaker and hated yourself for that. it was as if the feelings were hitting you because you knew, somehow, that would lead to something bad.

winter, 3 years ago

you wish everything could be different. the arrival of jia shook everything between you and yoongi, even when you tried so hard to keep it steady. she wasn’t a bad person exactly, but she surely wanted to start over from where they stopped and you felt like an intruder. days went by and things started to get harder. firstly she showed up out of nowhere to return his old coat that was still in her stuff. then, she started to send him messages, or set up a meeting with friends from the university days so he could go too. 

you never really told him you were annoyed by this. you just questioned him a couple times and he noticed how upset you were when jia made a new move. maybe the lack of communication set you two apart. day by day, you were drifting away from him and it was harder to come back to what you two were as a couple. you stopped going to his house, started to find excuses to not meet him, because you knew everything was different for you now. 

until the day he came to your house to spend time with you. you were different, you just couldn’t be with him like before, as if by staying far from him you could avoid the inevitable heartbreak. 

“what’s going on, y/n?”, for the first time ever you saw him extremely worried and upset. 

“nothing, I just... I’m just tired, yoongi”

“you don’t tell me what’s going on anymore, we don’t go out as often as we used to, you don’t even... you don’t even kiss me like you did before.”

tears started to fall from your eyes slowly, “did you ever ask? since your ex came back, did you ever ask why was I different?”

“why is jia a problem? what’s really going on?”

“see? I am telling you! everything changed from the day she put her feet on your apartment and it felt like she was just coming back to her place. she’s finding any excuse to meet you and you’re simply going. can’t you see? she doesn’t want to be friends with you, she wants you. I just don’t want to compete for a place in your heart.” 

you didn’t know how but it all came out as a flash flood. was he really naive about her intentions or did he like it? 

“y/n...”, he hugged you and you let him do it. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“and I don’t want to be hurt. that’s why I can’t be the same anymore. I can’t be who I was because I feel like things changed.”

“please, I love you...”, he didn’t know what else to say but you could feel his heart beating fast.

“don’t say it...”, there in his arms, all your worries seemed to fade.

“there’s nothing going on between me and jia. it’s all past. please, don’t let it set us apart now.”

you walked away from the hug and looked at him. “is there something you wanna tell me?”, you knew him very well.

he sighed, sitting on the sofa. you sat by his side, still waiting. “I received my enlistment letter a while ago, before even meeting you that day. I can’t postpone it anymore, mainly now that I already achieved my academic goals. I really need to fulfill my duty, y/n.”

“wait...”, you were confused, “I thought you already completed your military service.”

“most people did... I wish I could have done it before, but I had to go through a shoulder surgery. I told you about the accident while working for the company that fired me after that. I was dealing legally for a long time to finally receive the benefits I didn't get from the company back then, and jia was helping me with this, since she’s a lawyer.”

“you should have told me.”

“yes. I should have told you since the start. I’m sorry for that... I didn’t want to worry you.”

“the only reason you postponed was the surgery?”

“no, at that time I got accept into the university and wasn’t able to stop studying for two years, because I was enjoying it so much ”, he was very sincere. “I love to study and work with music, but I know I also have to fulfill my duty now.”

to hear him say that again made it feel more real.

“when are you going?”

“next week”, he looked away while saying this.

you blinked twice, trying to understand if you heard correctly. some of it had been explained, but now a new problem has arisen. you knew, he had to serve for two years in the army. two long years. would you two be able to wait? you needed to think. the idea of seeing him just a couple times during the year, how would you deal with it?

he pulled you into a hug again and then whispered, “I’m sorry”, and you almost didn’t hear it. he hugged you so tight, you wanted to cry. cry because of everything, cry because of him, because of you, because of the love you were feeling.

“will we be able to do it?”, you looked at him, still into his arms. 

he touched your face and looked into your eyes. you knew his eyes very well and you could notice the sadness in them. “I don’t want to be apart”.

“neither do I.”

but how would you manage it? he didn’t know. none of you did. you only knew you wanted him – would that be enough for the two years ahead? so many questions. you shut all of them by kissing him like before, like you missed him already.

summer, 2 years ago

since you lost contact with yoongi, you were trying to move on day by day. breaking up wasn’t the only solution, but you and yoongi decided it was the best. you met him one day before he enlisted and had a great time together, as friends. 

you talked to him once in a while, when he sent a text or a picture, and it made your hear race because of the notification. you met your friends in common, even met jia on a store, which was surprisingly nice. but of course, even moving on, even finding things to do on your own, even not being in bad terms with him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and wondering: did he think of you too? would you even meet him again?

you didn’t know, but he always thought of you. he thought about sending you a text or a picture when he had time to use his phone, but maybe it wasn’t the best option since you were living a life without him now. he was thinking of you while you were thinking of him. missing each other and wondering without answers. 

on a day off, he was walking by the same street you two hang out on that summer day, for the first time. he didn’t know you were there too, just like you didn’t know he was there, but for a second you thought you saw him.

winter, months ago

how could you watch the grinch and those cheesy rom-coms without thinking of him? you smiled, wanting to send him a picture of your tv. “hey, guess what I’m watching for the 2397473rd time?”, you almost typed. does he have time off on christmas or... has he been discharged already? no, maybe he’s busy, you thought.

he was home that night, by himself. drinking wine, eating and, yes, watching tv. searching for the grinch or any new rom-com to watch, even though he didn’t really enjoy those at first. but because of you and the memories you two created together, those kind of movies made him feel good, have a good laugh and think of you. 

spring, nowadays

life is better on spring – that’s what you always thought. just by walking and seeing the cherry blossoms painting the world in pink made you feel like a brand new person. you were feeling good, having a nice time, feeling the spring breeze on your hair. for the first time in a while, you weren’t overthinking anything, your mind was completely in that moment.

it was 4pm, you finished all your work for that day and it was time to go home, take a bath, maybe hang out with your friends later... you were open to other possibilities. when you approached the avenue, the pedestrian crossing traffic light turned red and you remained standing, holding the bag with both hands in front of your body. you were looking at nothing in particular, but when your eyes briefly passed over the faces of people across the avenue, a face caught your eye.

under the golden light of that time of day, yoongi was standing in front of you. many meters away, but still in front of you. you would walk to the side he was on, he would walk to the side where you were and your paths would cross in the middle of the avenue. maybe he would pretend he didn't see you, or maybe you would. but was it possible to pretend when it was written on your faces how surprised you were to see each other again?

the traffic light was now green for the pedestrians and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. you started walking and then lost sight of him. for a second you thought you would stop in the middle of the avenue, just to look for him, but you were still walking to the other side. 

when all the people walked by and you were reaching the sidewalk on the side he was on, you saw him. standing in the same place, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his cell phone and wallet. looking at you. a strong breeze made some flowers come off the tree and it looked like a movie scene, those beautiful ones. was it fate? was that moment meant to be?

you were finally by his side, on the sidewalk, and felt his gaze on you. you always thought that, if you saw him, your first impulse would be to hug him again, but no – something stopped you. 

“hey”, he said first.

“hi”, you answered. “nice to see you”

“I’m- hm, nice to see you too. how are you?”

“I’m fine, yeah”, you brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “and you? how’s life going?”

you knew he finished his service months ago because a friend in common posted a picture with him. 

“great, I got a new job after completing my service”, he was still talking when a very hurried person accidentally bumped on your shoulder. then yoongi touched your arm lightly, so that the two of you would move away from that busy area a little.

“this is great news! I’m happy that now you’ll be able to keep working with what you like the most.”

“yeah, right? well... I’d love to hear about you too. maybe we can see each other anytime?”

you just needed five seconds of courage and less pride. now or never, you thought.

“do you have time?”, you heard the words coming out of your mouth.

“now?”, you could see he was surprised, but not in a bad way. 

“yes. maybe”

“I do”, he said, “let’s go somewhere, then”

“I need to buy some stuff, if you don’t mind”

“no problem”, he said with a smile on his face. you knew it because you looked at him quickly, smiling too. you two were walking side by side, trying to avoid eye contact and craving for looking at each other at the same time. it would take just a few minutes for you two to start feeling comfortable again, after all this time. you knew it because it was like this since the first time you met him and, years later, it surely didn’t change.

it was a spring day again; you missed him and he missed you. but now you were face to face.

#bts #bts au #bts timestamp #time stamp #bts fluff #bts boyfriend #bts x reader #bts fic #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts reactions #bts suga #kim namjoon #namjoon #kim seokjin #jin #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi au #yoongi boyfriend #jung hoseok #hoseok #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jungkook

[bossbex]

5x06 Reaction

JARCHIE!!! I missed their interactions so much... like honestly in S4 they barely spoke.  I’m loving the “roommates” dynamic.  

Ok the kevin/fangs/toni apartment(?) is... amazing!!

I love how they hired actual teenagers (or close to it) to play the high school kids... since all the “teachers” were playing high school students, what, 3 episodes ago?? 

Ok mechanic Betty is SO HOT

DORITOS I AM CRYING AT THIS PRODUCT PLACEMENT

Veronica’s taking over the Blue Velvet!!! Why not reuse that set lmao

Thoughts on this initial barchie interaction: 

I’ve seen all the discourse about it seeming like Archie doesn’t care about Betty’s problems, or not taking them seriously, and people comparing Archie’s “oof - that sucks” to jughead’s “white noise” speech in 1x08 (which I thought was cringy AF and I even liked b*ghead at the time) and here’s what I’ll say: 

His “oof - that sucks” comment as MATCHING Betty’s tone - she says it kind of matter of factly and with a bit of an eyeroll, she does NOT seem very upset about it, and she is a grown ass adult who DOESN’T need Archie’s condolences in that moment - and Archie knows that. 

She then brings up Polly, and Archie ASKS A FOLLOW UP QUESTION: “didn’t your mom say she does this? Takes off for a couple of days” which shows that he is referring to a previous conversation about this - they’ve BEEN talking about it and he DOES care (not to mention they showed that he had texted her about Polly at the end of the last episode)

She says she’s trying not to panic - because she knows this is something Polly does and may not actually be in danger - SO HE OFFERS A DISTRACTION during a time when she is basically asking for one, and then SHE COMES UP WITH THE IDEA OF WHERE TO GO HAVE SEX

Anyway I have argued with enough people on twitter about this lol.. I feel strongly.  Also, this scene was super cute and both Archie and Betty look so good in it.  

I love Tabitha.  Smart, enterprising, witty... I’m all for the Jugitha pairing. (seriously though, is a ship name decided for them? I’ve seen Tabhead and Jabitha as well, lol.  

Uhhhhh ok this car sex scene? It somehow feels even more explicit than the shower scene?? The moaning and breathing?? HOW DARE THESE STONEWALL KIDS INTERRUPT THIS

LMAO NIGHT JOGGING

Is it just me or is Sheriff Keller looking really hot? Silver fox??  

I have to note that Archie’s hair colour looks SO BAD in this whole episode but especially this football scene with the Reggie confrontation.  It’s like, almost burgundy? But somehow bright orange at the same time? I hate it.  

Ok Cole is absolutely nailing this “down on his luck, beaten down” adult Jughead.  His character is funny all the sudden?? I love that he kept the money in the tip jar like OF COURSE

Ok Chad coming into Veronica’s class HE’S THE WORST!!! And then SITTING AT THE BACK I HATE HIM SO MUCH FOR THIS

Alright, now we have another scene that has people talking, which is where Archie meets Chad.  My thoughts: 

Archie clearly sizes up Chad.  I mean, he dated Veronica for 3-ish years (in the show’s timeline) so yeah, it’s normal to meet your ex’s new partner and size them up.  It read more like “he thinks Chads a douche” as opposed to “he’s jealous of Chad because he wants to be with V”.  

They show makes a point of showing Betty’s reaction to them meeting.  THIS SHOT IS NOT RANDOM.  Yes, I’m sure the show will go there, she’ll get jealous of V at some point.  Betty thinking that Archie is jealous of Chad is not the same as Archie actually being jealous of Chad.  

I kind of loved how Chad just jumps in here to join in the karaoke night - he didn’t redeem himself from the previous scene where he SAT IN THE BACK OF HER CLASS WHILE SHE WORKED but I like how they’re not playing him completely evil

Next scene: BETTY AND TONI ARE TALKING!!! I REPEAT!!! BETTY AND TONI ARE TALKING!!! Seriously, it’s so refreshing that they’re actually letting all kinds of new dynamics and character interactions happen this season.  

Also, NEDSLIST!!!! THIS SHOW!!!!

I am living for Cheryl being completely beautiful whilst yelling at construction workers.  

So like... she actually doesn’t have that much money. She couldn’t really afford the donation for the school... I kind of wish that once she says “I can’t afford it” people would like, not keep pushing? I’m looking at you Toni, whom I absolutely adore, I just wish the writers didn’t make it like Cheryl’s being squeezed dry.  I get that it’s needed for plot purposes but I don’t love it.  

Kevin and Betty are friends again!!! Love it!!! 

Karaoke night thoughts: 

At no point is Jughead hanging out or interacting with the rest of the group.  He stays separate from them - with Tabitha, which I appreciate, but I am just noting this because I’m sure it was done purposefully. 

“She probably forgot it’s Gekko now” uhhhh didn’t Toni announce V as “Veronica Gekko” in the last episode?? LOL THE SHADE

I love Veronica’s voice

Ok so Chad actually comes off so great in this scene?? I guess this is part of his manipulation - come off as such a great guy in front of all her friends to get them to like him? 

Jughead’s reaction to the duet is so me every time I’ve watched people do karaoke lmao

During the “or do you need more? Is there something else you’re searching for” they cut to Archie’s and Betty’s reaction.  Archie is not thinking about V in that moment.  

I am not seeing one iota of jealousy from Archie.  He looks genuinely happy for them.  

This Chad and Veronica bed scene makes me uncomfortable.  But I’m glad they’re showing their softer moments! 

The Archie/football recruitment sequence... Chad in the back of Veronica’s classroom again??? HOW IS THIS HAPPENING I HATE THIS!! Also, this is another scene where Chad looks jealous of Archie... not the other way around. 

Britta!!! I love her.  And I feel like the writers inserted her in specifically for Britta Lundin, former Riverdale writer and acclaimed author (read her book Ship It, seriously, it’s so good), and I love that. BUT THE WAY ARCHIE LOOKS AT BETTY IN THIS SCENE IS THAT EVEN LEGAL

We get the first glimpse Toni’s “Operation Bring Cheryl Out Of Hiding” plan here, when Archie asks her for funding for the football team and says its earmarked for something else (hmmmmmmm... this plan has been in the works for a while... and I’m here for it) 

Ok. This scene where Archie goes to ask Cheryl for money is... a mess.  My first reaction is that it was so OOC for Archie to bring up Jason in that way.  Then I got to thinking... Archie probably would want to honour his dad in that way and was genuinely suggesting that as something that might actually be helpful to her, as opposed to purposely trying to manipulate her.  He knows what it’s like to lose a family member, he just didn’t realize that Cheryl doesn’t grieve in the same way. The boy doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body.  Anyway, now he’s been banished from Thornhill! But don’t we see him (and everyone) there in a bts photo from possibly 5x08? Isn’t that at Thornhill? Will this be addressed or will the writers just forget it ever happened?

I love Betty and Kevin investigating together. It’s so refreshing. 

Ok this place Jughead is going to is legit the creepiest shit I’ve ever seen.  I am having trouble making myself care about this “Mothmen” plot??

Betty’s “Straight to the Point” interrogation style is actually effective in this truck stop stakeout scene.  

Alice again with her wine... I wonder if there will actually be an “Alice is an alcoholic” storyline or is the wine just part of her personality now?

Ok like it’s so inappropriate for a teacher to be wearing an HBIC shirt BUT I AM HERE FOR THIS DRAMATIC VIXENS HALLWAY WALK!! And Toni is correct, Cheer is a sport so sit down, Archie.  Notably Toni adds in “not even Cheryl managed to do that” - I’m thinking she new Ms. Bell would be eavesdropping ;)

WHY IS THIS PORTAIT OF JASON WORTH SO MUCH?? 

Is this Minerva character going to be important?? I keep seeing people talking about how she and Cheryl are going to hook up but is that just because she’s a female character who interacts with Cheryl? I’m not seeing it yet but hey, it’s Riverdale.  

JUGHEAD BRINGING UP THE EPIC HIGHS AND LOWS OF HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL I SCREAMED

Seriously though, since we know Jughead wasn’t there when Archie said that, there’s two options: Either Archie told him he said it, or (my preferable theory) Archie used to just SAY THAT REGULARLY and has said it in front of Jug lmao.

Chad again seems legit supportive when she tells him about her jewelry store plan?? THEY’RE SO UP AND DOWN!!! 

Ok, so Betty is an FBI agent (trainee, whatever) and she JUST NOW THOUGHT OF TRACING POLLY’S CELL PHONE

This scene... when Veronica finds out Chad has been talking to Hiram behind her back... this is where she decides she’s done with Chad. 

Another scene with Archie - I am still getting zero vibes that he’s into Veronica? And zero vibes that Veronica’s into Archie? It makes complete sense that Veronica would want to help the bulldogs.  Chad is a total dick here and is definitely threatened by Archie... again, not the other way around.  Side note: Chad, if threatened by Archie, is a TOTAL IDIOT for suggesting Archie renovates the Pembrooke - like, he’s going to be working? All the time? Where Veronica is staying? And probably taking his shirt off because he’s sweaty from all the working?? WHYYYYY WOULD CHAD ENCOURAGE THIS

This little flirty scene between Jughead and Tabitha (and it’s the first that I would say has any flirty undertones whatsoever) is pretty cute.  

THIS BARCHIE PORCH SCENE I HAVE THOUGHTS

The fact that people are suggesting Betty showed up there because she wanted to talk to Jughead is SENDINNNNGGGGGG

Let’s be clear, she only asked about Jughead so she could make sure he wasn’t home so that she could bone Archie. There is no other interpretation for this. 

THIS IS THE BEST BARCHIE KISS TO DATE

They are playing the song from the porch scene in the pilot... DON’T TELL ME BARCHIE IS MEANINGLESS WHEN THEY ARE USING THIS SONG

I think the fact that this is the first time they had sex and we didn’t see it is meaningful - they are showing that the relationship is deepening and they are more than “just sex”

As Betty leaves, Archie looks like he wants to reach out for her and then stops himself - he is definitely falling hard and he’s afraid Betty isn’t feeling the same way

Ok, Cheryl is straight up wearing lingerie in Toni’s office!!! And the red lipstick is back - notably, throughout the entire show, she has worn the red lipstick as a kind of shield - she never has it for her “vulnerable” scenes.  Seems like that is still happening. AND this is where we see Boss Toni’s plan come into fruition - she started up the vixens and MADE SURE CHERYL FOUND OUT ABOUT IT because she knew that was the one thing that would make Cheryl come out of her Thornhill hiding spot.  Well played, Toni.  

Archie and Veronica announcing the bulldog funding... again, I’m not seeing ANY “romantic/attraction” vibes here? He does react when she says her last name is Lodge again but like, anyone would? 

MS. BELL YOU GOSSIP I’M OK WITH YOU REPORTING TO CHERYL BUT I DRAW THE LINE AT HIRAM

Is Reggie... filing his nails? Lmao

I really hope Polly isn’t dead?? Like I very much want a Polly redemption story!! 

Sooooo I guess Archie and Jughead are both going to die in this fire? Lol... well... they’re main characters so I’m sure they’re good.  

I’m doooone for this week! So far really enjoying the timejump? Obviously because of barchie but also, everyone is just - better. 

Well this turned out to be a novel.  If you made it this far, thanks for reading :) 

#riverdale #barchie #riverdale thoughts #riverdale 5x06 #5x06 #riverdale season 5

[write-orflight]

Songs to Play While Hunting a Killer: Chapter 2

*Gif not mine*

Prev -> Next

Pairings: HotchxReader, Enemies to lovers

Rating: M

Words: 1.8K I know :(

Warnings: None right now, eventually will be smut

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N is a Bounty Hunter who always runs. Aaron is the Agent that stays behind, it was no mystery why they didn’t get along. When the two are called to revisit an old case together it’s no wonder old feelings revisit too.

A.N: I know this chapter is short which is why I’ll be updating this again Thursday. It just felt like a good stopping point.

  Chapter 2: Hold the Line by Toto 

You and Hotch drove in silence again, Toto now playing softly in the stereo as you made your way to George Foyet’s. Your left leg propped up so your left arm could rest on it, your fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel while you drove. You didn’t notice but Aaron was watching you. God, he hated how you were always like this, carefree and blatant disregard for the order of things. It reminded him of when he first saw you. 

Hotch watched the woman sat a ways in front of him, leg propped up and sunglasses on in class. She was obviously hungover and not paying attention, taking the time to balance a pencil on her nose. Hotch rolled his eyes as he saw you check your pager and phone, he couldn’t stand people who joined the academy only to not pay attention to lessons.

“Can anyone tell you the difference between a trigger and a stressor?” the instructor called out looking to the class. He levels his gaze on you on your pager. “Ms. L/N? Since you want to check your phone, perhaps you want to call your dad and ask him for the answer?” He laughs, snottily. 

Hotch watches you peel your sunglasses down to look at him. “Not necessary.” You turn to look at your peers. “A trigger is something that makes one think directly to abuse/trauma, they often lead to flashbacks or intrusive memories. While a stressor is an event or situation that creates a sense of threat or stress and causes someone to lash out or change behavior and sometimes even have a psychotic break.” You say with a bored expression. “Would you like an example of a stressor?” 

“Oh, do you have one?” The instructor asks. 

“Yea. An impending divorce is actually a great example of a stressor.” You say looking him in the eye. The instructor looks a bit shaken. “You’re wearing the same suit from yesterday but it’s pressed, which tells me you spent an unexpected night in a hotel and whenever your wife is mad at you, you take it out on your female students. Especially when she pages you during a lesson which is why you took your anger out on me, a woman checking her pager. I do suggest calling her back though, before she actually is an ex wife.” with that you pushed your sunglasses back up, returning to your pager to your pocket. 

That was the moment Hotch decided he didn’t like you very much. You were smart and skilled, sure, but you were also arrogant to a fault. 

Your phone ringing took Hotch out of the memory. He watched you pull it out of your jacket pocket, smiling at the name before answering. 

“Hey, Seanie.” You croon into the phone. “Yea, I was in Mass last week. Now I’m back, your brother asked me to work a case with him.” Aaron instantly sits up at the mention of his brother. “Yea, I know I said I was going to visit after my bounty, work never sleeps you know that.” You’re smiling at the phone for a second, listening to Sean talk. “Well I can make my way up to New York once we’re finished here if you’re buying drinks.” Hotch watches laugh again. “Alright talk later, kisses.” You say hanging up. You loved when you got the chance to talk to Sean, of the two he was definitely the more fun Hotchner. You looked over to see Aaron leveling you with a stern look. 

“What?” You say. 

“Are you going to be able to focus on this case?” He says. 

“Relax Hottie. I only answered the call because we hardly get to talk. I work too much.” You shrug. 

“And what exactly is your relationship with my brother?” Aaron asked, a little too sternly but he knew your reputation.  

“Your tone suggests you already have an idea of what our relationship is.” You roll your eyes. 

Aaron brings a hand up to his forehead. “Please tell me you’re not fucking my brother, Y/N.” 

You look at Aaron incredulously. “Jesus christ, no. Why would you say that?”

“I know how you were in academy--” 

“You mean when I was in my 20s? Some of us were actually having fun. Not everyone was trying to salvage an already failing relationship with an engagement ring!” You say, you knew it was a low blow but Aaron was basically trying to call you a whore. “And FYI, No, I’m not sleeping with your brother, and even if I was, it'd be none of your business since we’re both consenting adults. But no, He and Katie, the girl he’s been dating for the better part of a year now are just really good friends of mine. And you’d know all this if you ever called.”  You angrily threw the car in park. “We’re here.” You say, instantly jumping out the car, leaving Hotch behind. 

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

After leaving Foyet’s (Who thankfully provided you with his other known addresses and aliases) you and Hotch headed back to the FBI Boston office with the rest of the team working on the bare bones profile Hotch already made. There were still a couple things that gave you disconnect. Like why the 911 call was only made for one victim, and the change of M.O when the victims were young women. You didn’t say anything about your thoughts, you always were a speak when you can prove it kind of girl. You ignored Hotch the rest of the day after his comments in the car. You knew you and Hotch weren’t cut from the same cloth but at least you respected him. It was clear he did not do the same for you. 

After working for a while, Hotch sends you and the rest of the team back to the hotel. You sat in your bed still working before you realized Hotch would probably still be up too. You put on your slippers before walking the short hallway to his room. You knocked twice before Aaron answered the door. If there’s one thing you missed about academy days it was the way Aaron looked in regular clothes, not the Armani suits. You looked at the way his broad chest fit tightly against the white t-shirt he was wearing. He was still pretty fit, you focused a bit too long on his biceps before you noticed the eyebrow raised at you expectedly. 

“I was working on the case, figured you’d still be up doing the same.” You say, holding the file in your hand up. “Two heads might be better than one.” 

Aaron thinks for a moment, before sighing and moving aside to let you in the room. As much as he didn’t like you he couldn’t argue with your logic. 

The two of you look over the cases silently before Hotch speaks up. “What do you think?” He asks. 

“The change of M.O has been bothering me.” You say. 

“Change?” 

“Yea, he usually stabs female victims multiple times. But this one he shot in the head once, just like the males.” 

“Could’ve been a time thing.” Hotch says. “He was impersonating a cop, can’t do that for very long.” 

“Or… It’s an age thing.” You say. “All the girls he stabbed were young. I think he’s a Hebephile.” 

Hotch nods. “That’s…. actually a good observation.” 

You roll your eyes. “Thanks, I’m full of them.” 

Hotch opens his mouth to say something but the phone rings. You both look at each other in confusion. Who could be calling this late? He gets up to answer it. 

“Hotchner.” You watched Hotch's demeanor completely change. “Who is this?” You sit up at that, watching Hotch have a very angry and incredibly vague conversation. Not before long, Hotch is hanging up angrily. 

“What’s up?” You ask. 

“The Reaper just offered me the same deal as Shaunessy.” 

“And you didn’t take it?” 

“Of course not.” He scoffs. 

“So what does this mean?” You say, looking him in the eye. He looks back at you, solemnly. 

“I don’t know.” 

——————————————————

Later that night when you’re finally back sleeping in your hotel bed, you hear a loud rapping at your door. You answer it sleepily to see David Rossi standing at the other side. 

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s been another killing. Get dressed.” He says, turning to leave your doorway. You yell down the hallway at him. 

“Why are you getting me and not any of your actual team?” 

“Hotch told me to specifically get you.” He shrugs. 

Hotch asked for you? 

Weird. 

The scene is gruesome. You’re used to seeing dead bodies in crime scene photos because of Academy but never in person and certainly not this many people. 

The Reaper had killed a bus full of people. 6 people plus the driver made 7. 

To make matters worse, he scrawled a sequence of numbers on the windows in the blood of the victims and you still couldn’t figure out what they meant. You and Rossi were discussing theories when you saw Aaron turn angrily down an alley. You and Rossi watch him go for a second before you signal with your hand you’re going after him. Rossi nods, opting to talk to the lead detective. 

You jog down the alley to see Hotch, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. 

“Hottie, what’s wrong?” 

“This is my fault. I hung up on him and then he turns around and does this. It’s my fault—“ 

He has tears in his eyes. You haven’t seen Hotch cry since that night-

Don’t even start to think about that, Y/N. You think to yourself. 

“Hottie...” You say, he’s still looking down. “Aaron, look at me.” He looks up at that. That’s not surprising. You never call him Aaron, at least not since academy. It was always Hottie or Hotchner. “This isn’t you, okay? You didn’t decide to kill these people. A serial killer did. Because that’s what they fucking do! They keep killing people and that’s why there’s people like you to catch them.” Hotch is looking you so intensely in the eye that you can’t help the flutter you get in your stomach. You guys need to solve this case fast, before these old feelings try to come up from the woodwork.

“So do you want to catch a killer or not?” You ask, Hotch nods. You punch him lightly in the shoulder. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” He says, sincerely. 

You shrug. “I’m charging you for the next one. Only the first pep talk is free.” You smile. 

You can’t help the swoon of your heart at the small smirk Aaron gives you.

Taglist: @evyiione​ @weepingmoneywagontoad @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks​ @dj-lowkey @zizzlekwum​ @blrthelines​ @diesinspanishbcimhispanic​ @liaabsurd​ @genevievedarcygrangerreading​ @softbibxtch​ @monachopism​ @afuckingshituniverse​ @ssahoodrathotchner​

#hotch x reader smut #bau x reader #hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut

[florenceandthemachine]

cutting down the family tree

@buckleydiazs​ said:

High school au where Buck’s the sad lonely kid with the shit family and Eddie’s the popular captain of the wrestling team who makes it his personal mission to make Buck an honorary Diaz and convince him that he deserves nice things I am just saying

WOW this got a lot longer than I thought, so I abandoned the ask and put everything all up in here. Only barely edited, SORRY LMAO.

8.5k, Buddie HS AU. underage-ish if you squint I guess? tw for abuse.

--

Buck was good at going unseen.

It was a defense mechanism—his parent’s couldn’t get upset with what they didn’t realize was there—and it had only amped up once Maddie graduated. Once she went off to college, Buck had no reason to be a distraction anymore, to try and pull attention off of anyone; so he just got better at it. He could pick things up and set them down without a sound. He constantly walked on the balls of his feet. He even kept his breathing even, slow and low, whenever he wasn’t alone.

At home, Buck had gotten really good at—nay, he had perfected—the art of becoming invisible. So it only made sense that it translated to his school life, as well. 

He got good grades—straight A’s—but only high enough to keep his grades at a 4.0, not high enough to earn Valedictorian, no AP classes, no crying over tests. Enough to ensure he would have opportunities after high school, but not enough to bring any student or teacher attention his way. 

He worked out every day, and had for years, years of defending himself or defending Maddie meant he had to be in the best shape he could be in—but while his body was packed with lean muscle and quick reflexes, he drowned himself in clothes that were a size too big, making him look smaller, unassuming. He kept his posture slouched whenever he wasn’t standing to take a few inches off of his height, to the point that he could get lost in a crowd while you were still looking at him.

He didn’t participate in after school activities. He didn’t run for school president. He didn’t have a flashy car, a high status girlfriend, he didn’t show any interests that might make him friends or enemies.

Buck was invisible to absolutely everyone.

Well... everyone except Eddie Diaz.

Eddie Diaz, who was a senior, like Buck was, but was new to Pennsylvania, moving over the summer — who was 18, a year older than Buck, because he was held back in the third grade for fighting — Eddie Diaz, who had joined the wrestling team and made captain in an embarrassingly short amount of time (well, embarrassing for the rest of the team). 

Why did Buck know all of this?

Because this was also Eddie Diaz, who, on the first day of Senior Year, locked on to Buck with laser-like focus, ignored all of Buck’s defenses, and apparently decided to take him on as a new friend pet project. 

And much to Buck’s annoyance, he just couldn’t. Shake. Eddie. Off.

He definitely tried. He changed his walkways, he changed the bathrooms he used, he changed where he parked, he did everything except change his schedule—and Eddie was still there, keeping up mostly one sided conversations. The only time he had to himself any more was his free period, the time he spent in the school weight room, and never before had be been so thankful for that regular moment of peace.

Buck finally hit his limit one lunch period, spent huddling in the library, when Eddie sat down across from him. "Eddie, isn’t there someone who actually wants to have lunch with you? Some of your friends, or teammates, or someone who isn’t me?” Buck had asked, barely looking up from the text book he had been reading—he wasn’t a fan of the ‘mean’ route, but he was at his wits end. When Eddie paused, Buck actually felt hope rise up in his chest, that he would be alone again. 

But Eddie had just leaned forward, made eye contact, and said “Nope.” with the biggest, shit eating grin Buck had ever seen.

Fine. It was less than a year. Buck could handle Eddie being around him for less than a year. 

--

Buck could not handle less than a year. 

Because Eddie, Eddie was nice. To him. To Buck, who had never said more than ten words to any other student since the day he started high school. Eddie was nice to him, and it was going to kill him.

It was going to kill Buck because he found himself wanting to be nice back. 

Not that Buck was a mean person, because he wasn’t, but niceness was followed by friendship, and friendship was followed by attachment, and that was simply unacceptable as far as Buck was concerned. 

... not that he hadn’t wondered, of course. He had always wondered what it would be like, to be able to hang out with friends, to have people come over to his house for his birthday, to have more contacts in his cell phone than the front desk of the gym near his house, his parents, and Maddie. 

He had wondered, sure, but he had never missed it. He had never craved it. He knew it was more important for him to be on his own, at least for the time being—an attachment would make it that much harder to get as far from the east coast as possible when time came for college, and that was unacceptable. 

But...

As he pulled in the parking lot, to a familiar spot near the back of the school, and saw Eddie waiting there for him so they could walk in to class together... 

Alright, so he wanted it. So sue him. 

“Buckaroo!” 

Well, that was a good way to make him want it a little less, at least.

“Eddie, I’ve told you,” Buck said with an exasperated sigh, locking his car behind him. “It’s just Buck.”

(Eddie had called him Evan once. Just once. Once the blind panic had subsided, Buck had put a stop to that, real quick.)

“And I’ve told you,” Eddie said in a sing-song voice, “it’s a nickname. Nicknames are what friends do, remember?”

“Your words, not mine.” 

Friends. Is that what they were? He rolled his eyes and shouldered his bag instead of thinking about it too deeply, but he couldn’t deny the spike of anxiety that rippled through him as Eddie started to ramble, falling back into the easy habit of talking for the both of them. He didn’t want friends. He just wanted to get out. 

“...and so I told him...”

Besides, it wasn’t like Eddie actually considered him a friend. They had barely spoken—well, Buck had barely spoken anyway. There was no way in hell that Eddie actually cared about him, right? He had to have some secondary motive.

"and after that, she...”

But that was frustrating in and of itself. Buck had been so sure that Eddie was up to something, or had some ulterior motive, or but damn it if Buck hadn’t been able to determine what it was. None of Eddie’s little douchebaggy wrestling friends had approached them, Eddie hadn’t even tried to get Buck out of his comfort zone yet, he hadn't done anything, and somehow, that was even more frustrating.

“...just because Ms. Syzmaski’s a wrinkled old bitch.”

Buck let out a laugh, in spite of himself, as Eddie rambled on, shaking his head. Ms. Syzmaski wasn’t that bad, and—oh. 

He covered his mouth as soon as he realized what he had done. He didn’t think he had laughed at all since Maddie left, and to have one pulled out of him so suddenly was a little surprising, to say the least—but as he turned to Eddie, beet red, he could tell that he wasn’t the only one surprised. 

The look that Eddie was giving him, however, was the closest thing to “starry eyed” that Buck had ever seen.

“I, uh, I have to get to class. Bye Eddie.” Buck blurted as he turned and booked it down the hall, not quiet quick enough to miss the smile and the incredibly soft “Bye, Buck” that followed him.

--

Things only got worse as more time went on.

Better?

No, worse. Definitely worse. 

Because Eddie could make him laugh, and the more time he spent with him, and the more he actually listened, the more likely those moments were. He was nice, too nice, on the rare occasion that Buck actually had lunch in the lunch room instead of hiding in a stairwell or the library, Eddie said goodbye to his friends and joined him kind of nice. The kind of nice that worked its way past Buck’s defenses, instead of breaking them down.

The kind of nice that made Buck actually want to open up, which, as he would never forget, was a dangerous kind of nice.

It was also, as he learned too late, the kind of nice that made him fucking cave in way too easily to Eddie’s whining. 

“Come on, Buck,” he had begged. “I’m going to be failing Chemistry if I don’t get a B on the midterm, and if I fail chemistry, I get booted from the team. You have to help me.”

And like a sap, Buck had sighed in agreement, giving up a Friday night doing nothing to help the intellectually infirm (“Hey!”).

Wincing as he touched up the concealer on his cheek, Buck dragged his backpack out of the passengers seat of his car, giving an appreciative look up to the small, ranch style house that spread out before him. It probably said a lot about his own expectations if he already felt more comfortable in front of a row of little ranch houses than he would in front of his own house, but… well, that was just it. His house was a big, gaudy house in a neighborhood full of big, gaudy houses. But everything about where he was now—the sound of a dog barking, the smell of someone cooking on the grill, the fact that you didn’t need to ask anyone to buzz you in to a front yard—screamed home.

He didn’t think anything could spoil how light he felt—and that was certainly proven true as Eddie opened the door before Buck even had a chance to knock. 

“Hey Buck, thanks again, you… uh, wow. You look, uh, great.”

It was a small surprise, but a nice one. He had ditched his regular, baggy, hiding-in-plain-sight clothes for a simple pair of jeans and a polo shirt, casual but comfortable, and he tried to ignore the smile tugging at his lips even as his face heated up. 

“I mean, it’s nothing special, it’s just jeans and a—“

“Eddie! Bring your friend inside and close the door!”

It didn’t matter how he had tried to prepare himself, there was something about a parent yelling that would probably always cause Buck to tense up, and tense up he did. If Eddie noticed, he didn’t say anything, thankfully, just hooked his elbow in Buck’ as he yelled right back. “His name is Buck, Mama, I told you that!”

He tried to get his heart to calm down as he felt Eddie tug him to the doorway, his free hand clinging to his backpack strap for dear life, bracing himself as he walked into… 

…something that could not have been more polar opposite of his own life if it tried. 

Eddie’s house was smaller, sure, but it was homey in a way that Buck had only imagined or seen in Hallmark movies. He was all smiles as Eddie introduced him to both of his parents (he knew how important first impressions were, had had that beaten in to him from a very young age), but he found that it wasn’t fake—he was genuinely glad to be there. Even if it still threw him for a loop when Eddie’s mother had insisted on being called Helena, had shoved a tray of snacks into Eddie’s arms, and sent them to Eddie’s room to study. 

“Go on, we’ll let you know when dinner is ready. Get your studying done.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

“And leave the door open!”

“Mama!”

Buck was only mildly placated by the fact that Eddie was blushing as brightly as he was. 

Any concerns that Eddie wouldn’t be taking this seriously, or was just looking for a reason to hang out and fuck around, were quickly put to rest as Eddie pulled out his chemistry book. It was comforting to know that Eddie was just as serious about his grades as he acted, and it made things a lot easier—when Buck didn’t have to spend half of his time telling Eddie to pay attention or to focus, as he had feared, things moved at a pace he hadn’t anticipated. 

Eddie was incredibly smart. That much was obvious from the get go. Chemistry just didn’t click with him, but that was easy enough to rectify—he just had to help Eddie see things from a different angle, to focus more on the process than the end result, and “seriously Eddie, would it kill you to take a legible note for once in your life?” 

Buck had set to work on transcribing some of Eddie’s rushed notes into a legible format while Eddie continued to work on a few practice problems, and before Buck knew it several hours had gone by and they were both being called down for dinner, and… look, Buck had a live in cook for most of his life, but damn if Helena’s enchiladas didn’t blow them out of the water. 

He found himself drawn into the family dynamics easily—Eddie had introduced him to his sister, Sophia, explaining that Adriana was out for the night, and they talked, bickered, poked fun, everything that Buck had figured was out of his reach for the longest time. He spoke when he was asked questions, and let himself engage in a few conversations, but more than anything, he just sat and ate and soaked up the delicious atmosphere.

Was this what a family really felt like? He didn’t think he had ever felt like this at home, even before Maddie had graduated, even before his father had started drinking. He felt something white hot burn in his chest as the night dragged on—not jealousy, or envy, something more dangerous, want. It seemed like a cruel joke, that someone so close to him got to have it all, while he had… nothing, but as he looked over at Eddie, his head thrown back in laughter at one of his mothers jokes until Sophia flicked a piece of corn into his open mouth and he sputtered, he wouldn’t wish the reverse on even his worst enemy.  

--

The good part about Pennsylvania was that it didn’t matter what time of the year it was, it was usually cold. Cold meant long sleeves and sweaters to cover the arms, and long pants to cover the legs, especially as the sticky feeling of Summer turned to foggy breaths and dew, and Buck could breathe a little easier. 

Just a little easier, though, because when you were tugging your hoodie down over your head to cover a black eye, you couldn’t relax. Not really. 

He was usually so careful. He was usually so good about covering his bruises (hell, he was usually good at getting bruises anywhere other than his face), but the last time he had touched himself up, he had forgotten to cap the concealer and the entire tube had run dry. He was sloppy. He had been reckless and stupid and sloppy and now he was paying the price; because as confident as he would have been a semester ago about getting through the day with a shiner and no one noticing, the day now included Eddie. 

He didn’t know if he could avoid Eddie for an entire day. What was worse, he didn’t know if he wanted to.

The day had started off pretty well. He took the train to school instead of driving so Eddie wouldn’t see his car. He was barely on time to each and every class to avoid Eddie in the halls. He ignored every text that came in—though he did allow himself a grin when Eddie sent him a picture message of his Chemistry test, a big 91 circled on the front of it. He even managed to find a new place to eat his lunch, one he was sure that Eddie wouldn’t know about. 

And then everything had gone to shit. 

He had finished his History midterm early, turned it in with his head down, and walked out of the classroom. His next period was his free one, so he decided to head to the gym early, taking a quick stop in the locker room to change into a baggy, long sleeved shirt, chucking his hoodie and his backpack in a locker before getting to the gym. There was only one other person in the room, back turned to Buck as he walked in—it was as good as it could get, and he sent a silent prayer up to anyone who was listening in thanks.

It was going to be a cardio day, Buck could tell—his right wrist was a little sore, and his shoulder too, and while thankfully neither of them felt dislocated it definitely wouldn’t be a good idea to try to lift weights. He could feel the tension bleed out of his shoulders as he started to stretch out his hips and legs, nearly ignoring the telltale buzz he felt at the base of his skull until it was too late. 

“Buck! There you are!” 

Buck bolted upright at the same moment as a hand clapped onto his shoulder, squeezing in the friendly way Buck had become so accustomed to—but now, instead of a familiar warmth in his stomach, it sent a bolt of pain through his body. He sucked in a gasp and jerked his body away from the pain, fists halfway up as he turned around, his body sagging when he saw Eddie standing opposite to him.

Eddie, who he had been avoiding all day, who’s multiple messages he had left on read, who now looked like he was face to face with a ghost. If he could imagine how he looked right now, he might have laughed—black eye, slumped shoulder, pale, panicked face. It was probably hilarious, even if Eddie didn’t seem to think so.

“Buck?”

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Buck, what... what happened to you? Is this why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

The biting comment was on the tip of Buck’s tongue, to tell Eddie to fuck off, to get lost, but Eddie sounded so small and scared he couldn’t bring himself to snap. Instead, he offered a weak smile, shrugging his good shoulder. “Nothing I can’t handle. You should see the other guy, right?”

It probably was in poor taste to go for a joke, and Eddie’s dark expression only confirmed that fact, but what was Buck supposed to say? ‘Hey, no worries, my mom broke a picture frame so it was either let her get the shit beat out of her or take the heat?’ Yeah, no.

Suddenly, his face was in Eddie’s hands, and oh wow that was nice, and he had to work to keep from sighing as Eddie’s fingers went feather light over his skin.

“Buck, this wasn’t just a little love tap.” Hah, no, there was no love in it at all. “You know, I could teach you how to block a few hits. Some self defense.”

Buck laughed, humorlessly, shaking his head. “No, that’s okay. Not a lot of good there, I don’t think.” he shrugged, shaking his head, even as Eddie opened his mouth to protest.

“But I can—” 

“Stop. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Buck, I am serious. I’m really worried about you, have been all day.”

Buck had to swallow at that, his heart sinking, and he looked down as he weighed his options. Neither were good. But if one kept Eddie from worrying...

“...fine. On one condition.” Buck said, his voice a little thick as he looked back up to Eddie, who... well, he looked like he would do anything Buck asked at that moment, and wasn’t that an interesting swarm of butterflies in his stomach?

“You stop asking about how I got them.”

Eddie’s face did a funny kind of flip flop, but eventually, he nodded. “Fine. First lesson starts now.”

Buck sighed again as he thumbed the hem of his shirt, debating for only a moment before he pulled it off. The tank top he was wearing beneath didn’t hide a whole lot, but he figured Eddie had already seen one bruise, and had promised not to ask about the rest, so he didn’t think much could come from getting rid of the heavy, hot garment.

What would come of it, apparently, was Eddie gaping at him, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Buck felt a sense of shame pool in his stomach, ready to put the shirt back on in another second—he didn’t think the bruises were so bad, but maybe—

“Buck, you’re—you’re ripped.” 

What?

“How are you not on the wrestling team with me? Or the lacrosse team, or football, or... something?”

Buck blinked for a moment before he felt blood rush to his face. Oh. Oh. Eddie wasn’t staring because he was disgusted, or horrified, but because he apparently... liked what he saw. From a sportsman perspective. That had to be it. Right. He cleared his throat, willing the pink to die down on his cheeks. “Eddie, are you gonna teach me or what?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up, wide as dinner plates, voice an active higher as he spoke. “Right!” He cleared his throat, shaking his head as he stepped closer to Buck. “Okay, so, if someone is going to come at you from the front, if they try and throw a punch, you just move the outside of your arm to knock the arm back, and—good.” 

Buck didn’t even wait for Eddie to finish speaking, as soon as the hand was up he batted it away with perhaps a bit more force than needed, a thoroughly unimpressed look on his face. 

“Okay, but then you need to follow through with a hit when they’re open. See—” 

Eddie moved to throw a punch again, slow and painfully obvious, and Buck followed his instructions, pushing it away, and then... not doing anything. Eddie scowled, raising his hand again, and just like before, Buck knocked it away with the inside of his fore arm, trying to focus on the best point to hit to knock the hand away.

“Buck, you have to follow through. Blocking is great but you have to use the opening to hit back.”

Punch- block. Punch- block. Punch- block. Eddie started picking up the tempo, moving around Buck, 

“I’m not hitting back, Eddie.”

Yeah, right. Buck hit back, and he’d probably get beaten beyond recognition. Pass.

“I can see that, but you have to. If someone is going to try and hurt you, you have to strike whenever you’re open. One good hit and you can run like hell.”

Punch- block. Punch- block. Where exactly was he supposed to run to? The living room? The kitchen?

“No.”

Eddie gave a quicker shot—still weak, but Buck ducked, pushing the hand away from him. This was actually proving to be pretty useful.

“Look, I get not wanting to hit someone, but you just need to daze them if you’re going to get away.”

“Eddie, I don’t hit back. That’s now how this works.”

“Well why the fuck not—” 

“Because it doesn’t fucking matter!” Buck yelled, his tone taking himself by surprise, as did the heat that suddenly burned through his face. “It doesn’t matter if I land a hit or not, it doesn’t matter if I get hurt, as long as he doesn’t hurt anyone else!” 

“He?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and dark, and Buck almost swallowed his tongue when he realized what he had said. 

“Buck, who did this to you?”

“I have to get to class.”

It was too much. Buck swallowed as he turned around, abandoning his belongings in the locker room as he fled through the gym doors. He didn’t have to run far—thankfully he had his phone and wallet with him, which meant he had a train ticket—and only when he managed to throw himself between the closing doors of the Thorndale line did he manage to breathe again. 

He pulled his phone out when the train took off, shooting a quick message to Maddie, asking her to call him out for the rest of his day.

Then he turned off his phone, put his head in his hands, and started to cry.

--

When Buck came to school the next day, he had his concealer on, and as far as he was concerned, the day before had never happened. He parked in his regular area, locked the doors, and tried not to sigh too heavily when he saw Eddie waiting from him. 

He didn’t have it in him for a fight, but Eddie had both his hands up, and that was enough to keep Buck from running again. 

For now.

“Look, Buck, I won’t ask details, but.... just tell me, are you okay?” Eddie asked, his voice slow and unsure, and Buck felt a frown creeping over his face in spite of himself. 

He tilted his head as he looked Eddie over, brow furrowed. “You really care about me.” A statement, not a question, but Eddie nodded all the same. “Why?”

If the question caught Eddie off guard, he didn’t show it. Instead, he looked away, seemingly chewing over his words as he tried to answer. 

"Because you’re worth being cared about, Buck.”

Buck hummed as he considered the answer, acting like it didn’t just rock him to his very core, and sighed as he opened his arms and pulled Eddie into a hug—Eddie seemed surprised, but pleased, and Buck didn’t have to wait long before Eddie was hugging him back, so gently and mindful of Buck’s body that he thought he might start crying again.

“So, it’s not just these rugged good looks?” he mumbled into Eddie’s hair, and Eddie groaned, shaking his head. 

“Buck, please.”

“My charming personality?”

“Buck, please.”

--

Somehow, nothing changed, and everything did. 

Eddie didn’t bring up the bruises anymore, possibly because they weren’t visible anymore, but he held himself differently around Buck—instead of grand claps on the back, he tugged at Buck’s elbow, instead of a teasing elbow to the ribs, it was a playful shoulder bump—all, Buck knew, things that Eddie could do without risking aggravating an unseen injury.

Any doubt in his mind that Eddie knew what was going on was dashed almost immediately, when Eddie intentionally steered the conversation in their little friend group (which was mostly the wrestling team, who had decided beyond all reason that Buck was okay) away from family matters. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, and Buck was sure it was at least a little obvious when you got to know him where the bruises came from, but that was why Buck had been so hesitant to get to know anyone in the first place.

What was new, though, was the hand holding. It started off as Buck being led around, but then Eddie never really let go of his hand. Buck didn’t mind it, even though he felt he should—he was more or less dying for any physical contact that didn’t hurt, an itch he didn’t even know he needed scratched until Eddie showed up. But it was still... weird.

It wasn’t until later on, as Thanksgiving break loomed around the corner, when Eddie let his hand trail over his shoulders while dropping a burrito and chips from the Qdoba off campus did Buck start connecting dots. 

Eddie was always a touchy feely guy, and it had only increased as of late.

Eddie had blushed when Buck took off his shirt—and for good reasons, apparently. 

And now, Eddie was treating him to lunch. 

They were all fine things on their own, but once was an accident, twice a coincidence, and three times, a pattern.

He swallowed his bite of burrito—the perfect order, even though he was sure Eddie had only asked him what he liked once, weeks ago—and derailed whatever train of thought Eddie had going in one fell swoop.

“...but if you look at the—” 

“Eddie, are we dating?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. A denial, maybe? Or another blush and topic change?

What he wasn’t expecting was for Eddie to nod his head, his smile a little wider, and then just continue on. 

“Anyway, as I was saying—” 

“No, hang on. We’re dating? This is like, a lunch date? You bought me lunch, because we’re on a lunch date?”

Eddie’s smile was so soft that Buck instantly felt at ease, even though he knew he was probably asking the dumbest questions of all time. “Yeah Buck, this is a lunch date. I didn’t want you to freak about it, but I knew you’d come to the conclusion eventually.”

Buck hummed as he reached over, stealing one of Eddie’s chips, chewing it thoughtfully before he rose his brow. “Well, this is a pretty nice first date, then.”

He tried not to be offended when Eddie snorted, raising his brow as he met the challenge. 

“Buck, this is at least our second or third date. Our last date was me bringing you home to meet my parents.” Eddie said with a smirk, but Buck frowned, shaking his head. 

“Wait, Eddie, that was forever ago. What was our first date then?” Buck asked, confusion written all over his face. 

Eddie actually blushed—okay, Buck was officially never getting tired of seeing that—as he looked up, humming in a way that was probably meant to be nonchalant but definitely wasn’t. “Oh, uh, well I consider our first date to be the first lunch we had. Um, the one where I made the joke about Ms. Syzmaski’s wrinkly old ass?”

Buck was honestly lucky he had swallowed before Eddie spoke, because that would have been a spittake for sure. “What the fuck about that joke made you think of that as a date?” 

Eddie was pink again and Buck had to physically bite his tongue not to goad him about it, but he was steadily getting redder as Buck waited. Finally, Eddie threw up his arms, sighing in defeat as he buried his head in his hands. 

“It was... it was the first time I made you laugh, okay? That’s why it was so nice.”

Oh, that was cute. Fuck, that was so cute. Buck could actually feel his resolve start to give way, which was unacceptable on more than one level, and he took a breath as he steadied himself. “I’m not staying.”

Eddie look like he had been punched. “What?”

“I mean it. I’m not staying. As soon as I graduate I’m getting out of this state, hell, this time zone if I can.”

“Buck—“

“I mean it, Eddie, I can’t—can’t stay here. And I like, you, I really like you, but if you’re staying in state, you have to know that I won’t. Not for anything, so if that’s a dealbreaker for you, you should just…”

His lungs ran out of his air as he forgot to breathe, but it was probably for the best, Eddie taking the moment to jump in before Buck could continue freaking out. “Buck, what makes you think I’m staying?”

Buck swallowed, his thoughts completely derailed. “What? You just moved here, why would you be leaving again?”

“The only reason we’re here this year is for my dads work. He has a year long contract, then we’d probably be moving back to Texas, but even then, who knows? No offense, but I have zero urge to stay in this snooty, Ivy-League bullshit state.”

Buck spoke slowly as his brain tried to catch up with what Eddie had said, brow wrinkling in a way that Eddie was definitely going to remember to call cute later on. “So… you’re not planning on staying. And you don’t care if I leave either.”

“No, Jesus. All I want is for you to be happy.”

It probably said a lot about how much that simple statement shocked him, but at this point in his life, he wasn’t sure anything would sit as “normal” for a long time. 

“Oh. Well, then, care to explain how we’ve apparently gone on three dates and you haven’t kissed me yet?”

Eddie lit up like a Christmas tree as he scooted forward on the bench, his eyes bright. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? I didn’t want to scare you off or anything—“

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss me right now, I swear I’ll—“

He didn’t get to finish his threat—which was mildly annoying—but the warm pressure of Eddie’s lips against his own drowned out any other objection he thought he may have.

He was almost late to class, his lips bruised in a way he absolutely loved, and he regretted absolutely nothing.

--

The day before they were due back in school from Winter Break, Buck had been planning on spending the entire day in bed, recuperating from the incessant display of familial togetherness that the holidays usually had brought. Eddie had been his one saving grace—near constant phone calls, texts, and snapchats had been the only thing keeping Buck’s temper low enough to avoid a few new bruises.

And, if the sight of Eddie wearing the simple leather corded necklace that Buck had gotten him for Christmas made his heart beat a little faster whenever he saw it, that was between him and God.

The past three months had been… alarmingly good, if Buck was being honest. If his home life had taught him anything, it was that the other shoe always dropped—so as much as he loved spending time with Eddie, as much as he loved their kisses, and rare dates, and holding hands in the hallway, as much as he honestly, truly thought he could see a life beyond high school with him, he was constantly, constantly waiting for that other shoe to drop. 

Which was why, when Eddie called him at one o’clock on a Sunday, Buck let it ring a few times before he gathered himself to answer the phone.

“Hey, are you busy tonight? I want you to come over and meet everyone.” 

“What do you mean, meet everyone? I’m pretty sure all of your family knows me by now.” That much was definitely true—Buck had been spending more time at Eddies than his own whenever he could help it, and while there was always someone out on an errand or at work or doing something else, he had participated in enough dinners, family calls, and video chats that he knew more of Eddie’s family than he did his own. “What, you have another set of siblings you’re hiding away from me?”

Eddie’s resounding laugh was a little too loud, a little too tense, just enough to spike Buck’s curiosity without making him fear the worst. He agreed easily after that, asking if he needed to bring anything, and made plans for a few hours later.

When he pulled up to Eddie’s house, though, it was almost unrecognizable. There were streamers tossed through the tree in the front yard, balloons tied to nearly every horizontal surface Eddie could see, and there were enough cars parked out front that Buck had to squeeze in behind a truck and a fire hydrant (and hope that he wouldn’t get a ticket). 

As usual, Eddie met him at the door (Buck had teased him once about waiting by the window, and when Eddie blushed and didn’t deny it, Buck had gone in to full hysterical laughter), the obvious nerves he was displaying not enough to dissuade Buck from punching him in the shoulder. “Eddie, what the fuck! Is this a party? You told me not to bring anything, I could have—“

“Oh whatever, I’ll sign your name on my card, calm down.” Eddie said, like he wasn’t the bundle of nerves himself, leaning forward to press a kiss to Buck’s lips (which he accepted, of course, he wasn’t a monster even if he was annoyed). He easily succumbed to the whirlwind of introductions—aunties and uncles and people who were clearly of the Diaz family, and damn, Eddie wasn’t kidding when he told Buck he wanted him to meet everyone. Eddie’s nerves started to hitch back up as they made their way to the backyard, and Buck was about to call him out on whatever it was that was going on when Eddie beat him to the punch.

“Alright, you ready to meet the man of the hour?”

“Only if you’re ready for me to.” Buck said with a hum, smiling as Eddie’s face did some impressive expressive gymnastics. “Eddie, you’re wound like a damn spring. If you don’t want me to meet this person, or any of these people, I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, yeah?” He said, bringing his other hand up to link with Eddie’s as well.

Eddie, to his credit, looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off of his chest, and he beamed as he leaned in to kiss Buck agin. “God, you’re perfect. Have I ever told you that? Well, probably not enough, but it will have to wait, because…” Eddie pushed through the back door and towed Buck along with him, where a circle of chairs were set up around a table stacked high with drinks, snacks, party games, and in the middle of it all— 

“…because here’s the birthday boy!”

—was a high chair, fully equipped with a tray table, a soppy cup, and a baby. 

A baby. 

Buck felt every nerve, every tense minute, every rational thought melt in his body and turn into a warm puddle of goo at the very core of his soul, and his face must have reflected that fact because Buck was vaguely aware of two of Eddie’s sisters laughing at him, but who cared there was a baby and it was the most adorable, pudgy, perfect baby Buck had ever seen. 

The baby quickly let out a high pitched squeal as his attention landed on Eddie, smacking his hands against the table in front of him, and Buck could not be held accountable for the noise that he made when Eddie swooped forward and undid the tray, pulling him out of the high chair easily, tucking him into an arm like he was a seasoned pro.

“Buck, this is Chris.”

And now Eddie was walking toward him with the baby, the baby who’s name was Chris, and Buck only waited for the barest hint of a confirmation from Eddie before he moved closer, cooing toward the excited little bean in Eddie’s arms. 

“Today is Chris’ first birthday.”

Which, that made sense, he was still so small and pudgy but still so energetic, and Buck nodded along with the rapid fire babbling as he squeezed Chris’ little foot playfully, feeling more proud of anything at the peal of laughter Chris let out at that.

“Chris is my son.”

Well, that made sense, Chris had the same complexion as Buck did, and he was just as quick to smile, and even though his hair was lighter in color it was still thick and wavy, and—

Wait. 

His brain caught up with his ears and yanked him out of his baby haze as he looked back up to Eddie, and oh, yeah, there was that nervousness that Buck had felt radiating off of him all afternoon. It seemed to echo around the yard, where there was conversation and laughter just a moment ago, everyone seemed quieter now, hushed, or maybe that was just the rushing in Buck’s ears. Things started fitting into place as Buck thought about it—how he had met all of Eddie’s immediate family, but not at the same time, probably because someone had probably taken Chris out whenever Buck came over. How Eddie so obviously loved his family, but still got a little awkward talking about them at times. Why Eddie had only rarely badgered him about going out after school, because he was spending most of the time himself with his son.

“This is your baby.”

“Yes.”

Oh. 

“You’re his father.”

“Yeah.”

Oh.

“Eddie, he’s beautiful.” 

Eddie sagged like a puppet with its strings cut, the tension bleeding out of his body, and the smile he shot to Buck was more open and honest than he had ever seen before. He could feel a collective sigh breathed around him as the voices picked back up, apparently approving of Buck’s reaction. “He really is, isn’t he? When he was born last year, his mom wanted to give him up, but… I couldn’t even imagine that. My parents stepped up and really helped me out, we took him home, and it was just… perfect. Like it was meant to be.”

Buck looked up with a smile as Eddie spoke, utterly entrapped in how soft he looked as he held his son, his voice low and slow as to not startle the curious kid safe in his arms. “When my dad took a contract up here, I thought it would be the perfect chance to start over, you know? I wouldn’t give Chris up for anything, but I could tell teachers were going easier on me, boosting my grades, and I didn’t know if it was pity or… whatever. This was the chance for me to prove I could do it. You, uh, you’re the only one outside of my family who even knows.” Eddie said, and Buck had to physically bite his tongue to prevent himself from gushing.

“He’s perfect, Eds. You’re perfect. I’m… I’m really honored you told me.” Buck said easily, leaning forward for another kiss, mindful of the giggling body between them. “But if you think I’m going to let you forget that you told me not to bring anything to your baby sons first birthday, you have another thing coming, I can’t believe you didn’t let me get a gift or something—no, seriously!“

Eddie let out a groan as he leaned forward into Buck’s bickering, the sudden lull in the party long since forgotten as the night carried on.

--

The other shoe always dropped, though, and Buck 100% blamed himself for not seeing it coming. Hell, he 100% blamed himself for letting it happen. He had become complacent, he had let his guard down, Eddie had wormed his way into Buck’s heart and showed him how good things could be, and Buck had dared to believe him. 

Buck had had hope, as stupid as it was, and now, here he was, standing at Eddie’s door, knocking at the wooden frame, begging, pleading for him to open the door—he didn’t realize how much he loved Eddie always meeting him at the threshold until it didn’t happen, until he wasn’t sure if Eddie was going to open the door at all, until he didn’t know what else he could do.

As it was, Eddie wasn’t the one who opened the door. It was Helena, who he had just spent the day with, and the sound she had made when Buck came into view was unholy. 

The day had started off so well, too—Eddie and Buck had both been accepted to Texas A&M (while Buck’s pre-acceptance letter had come almost a month ago, he still waited until Eddie received his to even open the envelope), and Eddie’s parents had been so thrilled with him—with both of them—that they had insisted on treating everyone to breakfast before cheering Eddie on at what was likely the last wrestling match of the season (because as great as Eddie was, the team as a whole sucked). 

Helena had forced him into a “Team Diaz” shirt, and Buck looked at himself probably a little too long in the mirror, tracing the name over his chest—if anyone noticed, no one said anything, though the smile on Helena’s face told Buck all he needed to know. Eddie, on the other hand, had absolutely lit up when he saw them all in the stands, his gaze lingering a little too long on the word Diaz splayed across Buck’s chest, and the look he gave Buck when they locked eyes again was nothing short of sinful (Buck was glad that he had been put on Chris duty—holding a baby was probably the only way he was able to distract himself from the sight of Eddie in spandex).

So, it didn’t come to a huge surprise when Helena opened the door and let out a sound that would have pushed him over the edge, had Buck not already been crying. 

Well… halfway crying. He was only really tearing up in one eye, the other was too swollen to do anything more than squint. 

His front was covered in blood, the “Team Diaz” stained red, his lip split and swollen and his cheek covered in bruises. It was probably for the best that his left eye was swollen shut, because blood was leaking around it from a split in his eyebrow, so he probably wouldn’t have been able to see anyway. Beyond the lip and the eye, though, the biggest concern was his nose—he didn’t think it was broken, but it was still sluggishly bleeding, and it just wouldn’t stop. 

Helena pulled him into the house and immediately started barking orders (“Adriana, bring Christopher to the nursery and put him in his playpen. Sophia, tell Edmundo to get home right now, his Buck has been hurt. Ramon, give me the first aid kit.”), steering Buck easily to the back yard as the rest of the family scurried around.

By the time Eddie got home, Buck had been mostly cleaned up—or, at least, his nose had stopped bleeding long enough to mop up most of the blood on his face, and Helena had taped the gash on his brow closed with butterfly bandages, and had a cold compress pressed against his face. Eddie looked wild, his eyes wide and face unforgiving as he kneeled next to Buck, and if Buck had any tears left in his body he probably would have started crying again as Eddie cupped the uninjured side of his face. 

Buck knew that Eddie was trying to find words, but he also knew there were a hundred wrong things to say at that moment, so he took the step for both of them.

“My dad found out about us.” There was no sense in sugar coating it, no sense in leaving the bandaid on too long, he just had to rip it off so they could move on. “Apparently he didn’t much like the idea of his son not carrying on the family name, he… didn’t take it well.” 

Eddie let out a sound that could only be described as someone breaking, and Buck blindly reached for his hand, feeling something burn through his chest, deciding then and there that he wouldn’t let another ounce of his father hurt Eddie the way it had hurt him. “But you were right. One block, one hit, all I needed to get away.” His tone had soured into something dark and sticky, good eye burning as he remembered Eddie’s little self defense lesson, all those months ago. He could tell the moment that Eddie’s mind reached the same conclusion, and he scrambled to look at Buck’s hands—there were some bruising around his right knuckles, but that was it. 

One punch, that was all he needed. 

One punch, and just like that, he had left everything behind—his phone, his car, his father bleeding from what Buck could only hope was a broken nose, coughing and sputtering on the entryway floor. The only thing he had on him was his wallet and his hoodie, and even the latter was tossed into the trashcan as he got off the train, too thoroughly wet with blood to be of any good at keeping him warm.

Instinctively, he had gotten off the train and trusted his feet to take him somewhere he knew he would be safe. He had finally realized that that place would never be with his family, would never be his house. His house would never be his home.

“Eddie…” Buck started, his voice thick with emotion. “Eddie, I… I don’t want to go back. I never want to see them, ever again. I’ll call up Maddie, I’ll… I’ll do something, but I can’t go back there, ever.”

Eddie looked like his heart was breaking; but before he could open his mouth and tell Buck off for considering going anywhere else, Helena spoke again.

“You will do no such thing.”

Her voice soft but hard as steel, leaving no room for argument, and Buck looked at her with pleading eyes (well, eye) as she shook her head. 

“You will not be going back there. I have half a mind to drive over there right now and—no. I will do everything I can to make sure you never have to see them again.”

Buck could feel himself sag in relief, a breath he didn’t know he had been holding coming out ragged and raw, even as Helena continued.

“And Buck, I don’t know Maddie, and I’m sure she would be happy to help you out however she could, but. I would never let another Diaz out onto the street. Never in my life.” She said, and Buck had to swallow when he realized who she was talking about. 

They considered him a Diaz?

“So if you would really be happier, or safer, we can get in the car and I’ll bring you to your sister tonight, but it’s just a few months until you and Edmundo leave for college anyway, and—“

“Please stay. Please. God, Buck, please, at least stay with us until you heal up a little. Please.” Eddie had apparently had enough of his mothers talking in circles, his voice shaking as he spoke, and Buck’s shock must have shown on his face because Eddie looked like he was going to start crying again.

They really considered him a Diaz.

He wanted to question it, to object, to do anything to prevent himself from being in their hair, but just like it was the first time they had lunch together, Eddie had worked his way too far past Buck’s defenses, and apparently, he had brought his whole family with him.

Buck barely had to nod before Eddie had him wrapped up in his arms, tight, and Buck returned the favor easily, seamlessly, his head buried in Eddie’s neck like he belonged there. 

The thought resonated as Helena went back inside, letting the two of them have their moment; though, just a moment, announcing that it would be a lovely night to have dinner outside on the patio. It bounced around his head as Eddie kissed his cheek when they passed each other with plates and glasses, setting the table beneath the string lights in the yard, the spot on his cheek tingling long after the contact had broken. It took root when Buck found himself laughing, sitting easier in his own skin than he had ever done before as Eddie tried to justify whatever foolish thing he had done in Ramon’s story, failing miserably, his hand laced tightly with Buck’s beneath the table.

Maybe this was where he belonged.

For the first time in years, Buck saw something that was worth holding on for, that was worth keeping and protecting and letting grow.

For the first time, he had hope.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 #buddiefic #911fic #highschool au #christopher diaz #tw: abuse #flospeaks #8k #fic #god this got long #I don't know if I like it but I needed it to be out of my brain so #there you go #mutually assured devotion

[writinggarbage007]

Bad Bad Girlfriend

Chapter 2

Bucky Barnes x dark! reader

Warnings: Sex, stalking.Also murder, manipulating people,general mayhem, con woman

Casey in the bushes with a machete

Will update warnings on each chapter if necessary.

Slight AU

You showed Nick Fury out of your house and watched as he and Maria Hill left in a black SUV similar to your own. Shutting and locking the door you flipped on your security to the house and grounds. You were still irritated with Casey. She had put you in a sticky situation with Shield and now you were going to get her out of your life.

Walking up the wide staircase you plotted in your head. There was so much to do and so little time. Heading for your bedroom you stripped and got into the shower. You probably had an hour before Fury sent you the files he promised.

You went through your usual shower ritual and dressed in a loose tee and sleep shorts. Padding down the stairs you headed for the office and pulled up your email. Right on time there was one from Hill with a huge attachment. You read over the files for all Bucky's ex-girlfriends with amusement. They were suckers. They went all in after the first date and didn't see the break up coming. Not a mistake you would have made.

Emailing Maria back, you told her you would be in touch when you had information they could use and stood up. Dinner and a Netflix binge before bed sounded like a really good idea. Tomorrow you'd have to start digging into the underworld you tried to stay separate from so tonight was relaxation time, you thought.

It took a week for you to turn up a lead. A low level Hydra thug named Burke dropped off the grid in Richmond, Virginia a few weeks ago. Two days later, another Hydra agent, Astor went silent. He was reputed to be handy with a knife and had no respect for women. There was a pattern in the weeks leading up to the abduction. Then the doctor was flown into Dulles airport outside D.C., and his reputation was for experimentation and extracting information.

Wherever this Samantha assistant girl was it was looking like Hydra had plans for her. That was never a good thing.

You called Maria Hill directly with your info and ran it down for her. Dates, contacts, video you had hacked or gotten by pretending to be a police officer. You didn't tell her where you got it and she didn't ask.

"Are you sure this is everything?" Maria Hill asked, and you grinned at her formal tone.

"Just one more thing," you say turning toward the french doors of your office."My contact said one more person he knows of went missing in Brazil last week." You pause for dramatic effect, "Crossbones. Brock Rumlow."

"Fuck." Maria says and hangs up the phone. You barely hold your laughter in. You knew that name would get her.

The Avengers Compound:

Fury walks into the conference room like he owns the building, much to the annoyance of Tony Stark. All the Avengers were present as Fury had requested. He knew they thought he was dramatic but you had given him good information and he needed the team to follow up on it.

"We have information from an informant. The abduction was the work of Hydra. None of Barnes' exes were involved, although our informant says he may want to be on guard when it comes to Casey Piven. We still have her under surveillance, but she's bat shit crazy." He eyeballs Barnes as the former Winter Soldier sank into his chair. "We have a list of Hydra agents who went off the grid in the weeks leading up to Samantha going missing. You may recognize a few names."

Steve snatched up the folder Fury tossed on the table. He went white, standing and leaving the room. Tony sighed and took the folder and began reading the names to Friday for facial recognition and background.

When he got to the last name he paused before reading "Brock Rumlow."

Bucky stiffened and looked around at the rest of the team. They all had varying degrees of trepidation on their faces. He blew out a breath and rose to go after Steve.

"Barnes!" Fury barked,"walk me out."

Confused Bucky followed the leather clad man to the elevators. Once inside Fury hit the stop button and pulled a device from his pocket. Hitting a blue button he turned to Bucky and said,"We have 2 minutes until Stark's AI reboots the cameras. My informant would like to meet you. She is Ms. Piven's ex-step-sister and she has a lot of insight we can use. She isn't a low level con woman. She has….Skills. I would like you to take the meeting."

"Sir," Bucky began.

" Trust me Barnes she has a whole list of reasons she doesn't trust Casey Piven. She even told the chick to leave you alone. Her grandfather and I did business together and I have done business with her a time or two. Do a background on her. Of course then you have to disregard everything you read." Fury lets out a huffing laugh. "Name is Y/N Y/LN. Address and date of birth will be sent to your phone. Let me know soon. She isn't known for patience."

Fury restarted the elevator and when the doors opened strode away with a wave over his shoulder. Bucky pressed the button for his floor and chewed on his lip. He had an appointment with Dr Kate this afternoon and he needed to shower and check on Steve. He'd think about this then talk to Steve about it tomorrow. Getting off the elevator he saw his best friend sitting in the common room with his head in his hands. Maybe he'd talk to Natasha about it tomorrow. The Punk had enough going on.

The next morning Bucky headed to the kitchen to get breakfast early. He wanted to talk to Nat before Steve, Sam and himself went running. Entering the kitchen he saw Sam was already there but no sign of Nat.

"Has Natasha been down yet?" He asked Sam.

"Yeah, she left about twenty minutes ago on a recon with Clint. Fury's tip had Tony and her up all night." Sam replied sipping on his coffee. When Bucky's shoulders fell a little with a disappointed sigh Sam said, "You can talk to me. I probably won't make fun of you."

Bucky considered for a moment then related the story from Fury, everything except the shutting down of the security cameras. He low-key wanted to learn that trick himself. As he sat across from Sam and took a drink from his own coffee, Steve spoke from the doorway.

"You should meet with her. She might have more info to get Samantha back." Steve said with an intense look that made Sam and Bucky squirm.

"I know you're upset about your assistant Cap," Sam said, (ignoring Bucky's muttered Ya' think) But we don't have a background on this girl yet. Maybe we get…"

Before he can finish Steve is calling to Friday to run a background check and find any information she can on Y/N Y/L/N.

Bucky and Sam just look at each other for a minute as Steve storms out of the kitchen calling Tony to see if he has other ideas.

"He is taking this hard." Sam says and Bucky nods.

"He's always had a thing for her. He said he never asked her out because he was being professional."

Just then Friday announced that Bucky had a visitor. Looking at the security screen he saw his latest "girlfriend" at the front desk. He hasn't called her in over a week and had only texted her back once, but here she was. Damn he missed Samantha right now.

Going down to the lobby himself he took her aside and explained there was a lot going on. Their assistant was kidnapped and he didn't want to put her in that kind of danger so he was breaking up with her. When she started crying he patted her back gently leading her to the door. He felt like an ass. Did they all cry?

After she hugged him again and finally left he turned and the security guard at the desk asked if he wanted to follow the usual protocol. Bucky sat while the Guard, Mike he thought his name was, explained that Samantha blocked their numbers and revoked their access to the compound. He just nodded and walked to the elevator to go find Steve.

Steve and Tony were standing in the middle of the lab with your files floating in the air. Bucky looked at your driver's license picture and tilted his head a little. You were pretty. Looking at the rest of the floating files (he was never going to get used to that) he saw a picture of a large house. Where did women that lived in mansions get info on Hydra? There was something off about this whole situation.

"We can be wheels up in 20. It's a short trip, maybe another 20 to get there. I'll take Buck and Sam. We'll let you know if we need back up." Steve was telling Tony.

"Oh I'm coming along with you." Tony said rotating the files again. "I want to see what she had to say to the Manchurian candidate over there. And this background is too clean. There's no social media, no ugly secrets. She runs an office supply company and knows Hydra secrets. I'm not buying it."

An office supply company? Bucky was sure Casey had said that she worked at one when she was laid off. He asked Tony if there were lay offs at the company and wasn't surprised when Tony said not in the last ten years. Everything Casey had told him was a lie from the start.

Maybe this Y/N could help them find Steve's assistant before he had a total meltdown. She could also help him sort through Casey's lies. He still felt guilty that Samantha was caught up in his mess and if meeting this girl could help he was going to do it.

@supraveng @mycosmicparadise

#bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #dark reader #bucky x y/n #the avengers #bucky x you #bucky barns fanfiction