#[i suppose this is her travelling while being off the grid]
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leclerced · 1 year ago
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control | op81
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summary: oscar and lando make a bet on who can last longer for no nut november. oscar’s girlfriend is not happy with the situation. inspired by this request that was supposed to be a quick blurb but turned into 2.6k by accident
warnings: 18+ minors dni. wrap it before u tap it! no real smut until the end and its quick and desperate sorry!
author’s note: i did not proof read this and was high writing so sorry for mistakes. i accidentally lost track of time writing this and i wanted to post tn so sorry for mistakes! i rly need to make a masterlist atp
Oscar and his girlfriend cannot keep their hands off each other, and Lando is kind of sick of having to cover for the two lovers when they sneak away during the race weekend. He can’t count on both hands anymore how many times he’s walked in on them in the midst of getting down and dirty, one of them on their knees or Oscar between her legs fucking her. The three of them grew unusually close because of it, with them whispering in his ear to cover for them while they sneak away instead of just disappearing like they did in the beginning of the season.
The three of them don’t realize it, but Lando has this way of staring at them like she’s the sun and he’s the moon and everyone is obsessed with the idea of them being a thrupple. Oscar was asked about it once, and said he hated questions about his personal life, and that he had to even say it, but no. He was not in a three way relationship with his teammate. Despite that, he loves knowing he’s got the hottest girlfriend on the grid and that everyone, including his teammate, wants her, but only he gets her. It ends up weird a weird dynamic between them, Oscar giving Lando too many details of all the things she lets him to do her, and come November, after walking in on them for the umpteenth time, Lando made a bet that Oscar can’t keep it in his pants for a month. Oscar said he could easily lie about it, but Lando brought up how she didn’t travel with him in the beginning of the year and he was an absolute menace compared to the angel he turned into after the first race weekend she attended. Oscar told him he wouldn’t go without sex for a month unless Lando did, and Lando corrected and said it’s no nut November, meaning no self supplied or otherwise, but he would do it because it wasn’t hard when he didn’t have a girlfriend at all, much less one as sex crazed and hot as Oscar’s.
They fucked like rabbits on Halloween and she assumed it was because he really liked the costume she’d worn, but come November first, he stopped being so affectionate. She didn’t notice it until the race weekend really got started and kept trying to spend his free time alone with him but he stayed by Lando’s side the entire time, even when she leaned in and whispered in his ear that she was dripping for him. His hand had tightened on her thigh and he quietly told her, not now, before focusing back on Lando on his other side.
The first and second time she excused him brushing off her advances. They were in the paddock the first time she tried pulling him away, she could excuse that because he was working. The second, they were at a club with Lando and she was trying to pull him away to the bathroom for a quickie after she had a few shots, she could excuse that because he didn’t want to get caught fucking in a bathroom in Brazil. But the third time, they were back at the hotel and she’d just brushed her teeth and showered, walked out of the bathroom naked and she crawled up his body, kissing his body through the sheets. He just rolled her off his body off his when she settled her hips on his and twisted her around to spoon her as he tugged the sheets over her. She thought he was going to fuck her like that, but she snapped when he yawned, pressed a kiss into her shoulder and mumbled goodnight. “Why won’t you let me touch you?” She demanded more than asked and he blushed.
“I- Lando and I made a bet on who could last no nut November longer.” She twisted back around and stared at him blankly, hands moving back towards his sweats as she asked, “Seriously, you’re not fucking me for a month over a trend? Why the fuck do you care if each other cums?”
Oscar didn’t have an answer so he shrugged weakly, “I don’t wonna lose. He’ll never let me live it down.”
She scowled, “No. I’m not going to let you live this down.” She rolled off of him before going to the bathroom, “I’ll fuck myself, since you won’t.”
He rushed off the bed to follow her to the shower, thinking even if he couldn’t cum, he could still make her cum, but she’d shut and locked the door behind her.
She tortured him for the next two weeks, locking the bathroom when she showered and refusing to let him join her even just to wash her hair. She wouldn’t let him pull her into his lap, wrap his hands around her waist, but then they’d be back at the hotel and make out on the couch. He tried touching her, but she pulled his hands away and told him, “If I can’t touch you, you can’t touch me.” She’d end up holding his hands behind his head so he couldn’t touch her as she kissed him until he was achingly hard in his sweats and then she’d pull away, retreat into the little bedroom of the suite, and fuck herself with her fingers, the door hanging open as an invite to come in and join.
All three of them were getting frustrated, it was obvious with Lando and Oscar during the race in Brazil even though it had only been five days. Oscar was used to going back to his hotel and fucking his girlfriend until they passed out, used to being pulled away to closets and bathrooms so they could feel each other up and if they were daring enough, he would fuck her like she begged. Fans noticed Oscar trying to pull her into his arms in the background of some livestream and she pulled herself free of him and sat in the free chair next to his teammate. People went crazy thinking the couple was having a fight, even though she was there at the finish line with his team to congratulate him with a kiss.
Then there was the race in Vegas, just over halfway through the month, and she’d been planning the entire trip and a new wardrobe for it. She’d been ordering things and having them shipped to a friend in California who then drove her entire Vegas wardrobe from LA to Vegas for her. Oscar had no idea what was planned, but she’d teased him when she shyly admitted she was going all out with her outfits when they went out. She suddenly seemed less shy about the money she’d spent when she leaned in and kiss his neck for the first time in three weeks and whispered, “Too bad you won’t get to see half of it.”
He’d choked out a single word, why? She giggled and pulled back, “Well, I bought a lot of lingerie for this weekend. I thought we would be having fun, but you and your teammate have ruined them for me.” Her eyes were suddenly dark and he was blushing and kicking himself for still not really wanting to give up on the bet. He had a few weeks left, he was halfway there, and if he gave up now then the last two weeks of torture were for nothing. And because Lando wouldn’t let him live it down, he would tease him about being young and not being able to handle it, not being able to control himself. He wanted to prove to himself more than anyone that he could do it now, he’d gotten it stuck in his mind that if he could somehow resist the woman on his lap for a month, he could do anything.
It was bad.
She was practically playing dress up in their hotel room the night before the race, she didn’t even pause the movie as she pulled the suitcase into the room and stripped down after unzipping it.
“I thought you said I wasn’t going to see them?” He asked as she pulled out a small bag and retrieved a set in the same baby pink silk as the bag. She watched herself in the mirror as she put it on, then turned to him.
She had a wicked look in her eyes as she grinned, “I decided I didn’t want them to go waste.”
He clenched his teeth and forced his gaze back to the movie as she stripped back out of the set and retrieved a new one. She tried on dresses between sets, tried them on with different bras and pressed her breasts together to see which bra complimented which dress the most. He’d forgotten about the movie despite trying to keep his focus on it, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off her for longer than a few seconds.
She kept glancing at him in the reflection in the mirror and wondered if he could see her watching him. She could see him getting hard through his sweats, especially when he shifted and adjusted himself in his sweats. Oscar squeezed himself once before he pressed his hand back into the cushion like he forgot his self imposed restriction. She wanted him to lose control already. She was on the verge of dropping to her knees and begging for him, she needed him so badly. She was on the verge of not being able to make herself cum when she tried to convince him by touching herself in the next room with the door wide open. He had broken her and he wasn’t even trying to. She didn’t want him to touch her because every time he put his hands on her body, she felt the ache between her thighs grow then she was reminded of his stupid bet and she got angry. Horny and angry was a bad combination when angry sex was off the table because all sex was off the table. Every fibre of her being ached for him and her heart was breaking a little as she watched him watch her and do nothing.
She stripped out of the black dress she’d just tried on and was left in the papaya set she’d ordered for the race night. Oscar watched as she stretched the fabric over her hips and ass and let it pool to her feet before she turned to him. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she bought lingerie in his team color, or that it looked better on her than it did on his car, or his suit, or anything else McLaren branded it with. They should just put her in his car, in that lingerie set, and they’d make fucking millions off one photo. He was certain of it.
He found his heart was racing as she slowly walked towards him then straddled him, her fingers automatically curled into his hair as she brushed her lips against his. “Bought this for your race tomorrow,” she whispered, and he dug his fingers into the couch cushions by her legs. He wanted to touch her so badly, but after two weeks, he knew the new rule she’d imposed. She pressed her lips to his softly and he automatically kissed her back, leaning into her as he sighed. It was the first time he’d touched her all day other than when she woke him up with sleepy kisses and made him get out of bed and go to work. She’d stayed at the hotel then went out shopping and met with the friend who brought the suitcases, so he didn’t see her until he returned to the hotel and she had room service hot and ready for him.
She let him deepen the kiss and pleasantly tugged on his hair, eliciting another sigh from his lips. Oscar felt dizzy as she sucked on his lower lip then bit it teasingly, tugging it back and letting it go to pop against his upper lip before she kissed him again. He was paralyzed as she began rocking her hips against his, the pussy he had been dreaming about pressed up against his cock as she pressed herself into him.
Oscar reveled in the feeling for a moment before hanging his head back against the cushion, abruptly ending their kiss. She whined and chased his lips before settling on his jaw before she moved down his neck. He let out a shaky breath as her teeth scratched against his skin and she sucked softly. Her hips gained more momentum and he moaned, “Fuck, stop.” He could already feel himself growing close just from her grinding on him and kissing his neck, he wasn’t going to last much longer.
She licked softly at his neck before sighing blissfully, “Make me.” Her hips continued rocking against him, each roll of her hips was sending him into a frenzy. He hadn’t been touched in two weeks and he had reverted back to a horny teenager about to cum in his pants.
His fingers dug into the sofa and he gritted his teeth, “You said I can’t touch you.”
She nipped at his throat before humming, “Nothing’s stopping you.” She slowed her hips a little then swiveled them a few times, making his abs twitch under his shirt.
Oscar’s knuckles turned white as his grip tightened, “If I touch you, I’m gonna fuck you.”
She moaned at his words as she rubbed herself against him before brushing her lips against his as she teased, “I guess we’re at an impasse then, you can’t touch me, and I can’t stop touching you.” Her lips met his again as he moaned and rocked his hips into hers. She pressed down in the same motion and he suddenly grabbed her hips and flipped them over, “Fuck you.” He groaned, pushing his sweats down with one hand and tugged the papaya panties to the side. She’d had the panties on for mere minutes and they were soaked, so he had no problem pressing his cock inside of her without any prep before hand. She pulled his hair harshly when he pushed in without any warning, but the sudden pain of his cock stretching her faded into pleasure as he began fucking her with an urgency she hadn’t seen in him before. Neither of them could say anything as they gasped and moaned into each other’s mouths, his thumb found her clit and in less than two minutes she was yanking his hair again as he pushed her over the edge. The pain of her pulling his hair and the pleasure of her cumming around him sent him spiraling over the edge and his entire body shook with his orgasm as he filled her with his cum. He collapsed onto her after their orgasms washed over them and laughed as he buried his face in her neck. “I’m sorry, that was stupid of me.”
She nodded and curled her legs around him , “It was. I would hate you for it if you hadn’t given up right now. I would have gone and made Lando cum first just to get you to fuck me, if you hadn’t just now.”
Her words were teasing, but Oscar heard a bit of truth behind her words and he laughed, “I think you should do that still. Make him think I won the bet.”
She laughed, her chest pressing into his as she pet the back of his head lovingly, “You want to win so bad you’d let me go make your teammate cum?”
He shrugged, “It’s just Lando, he’d probably last thirty seconds cause he’s had a crush on you since you met. Probably feel like he won just because you tossed him off.”
She flushed at the thought of his teammate crushing on her, “He has?”
Oscar rolled his eyes even though she couldn’t see him, “You don’t notice him watching you constantly? Haven’t seen the way he looks at you?”
She huffed, “I should say the same about you and him, you look at him the way you look at me.” Oscar was glad she couldn’t see his face as it heated up and he changed the subject back to her, “You really don’t notice him watching you? What about Charles?”
Her eyebrows raised at the mention of the Monegasque and she squeaked, “Cha?”
He huffed this time, “You want to fuck all my friends?”
She blushed again and whined, “You’re the one who said I should make Lando cum.”
He laughed, “Mhmm, still think you should. I don’t want to lose. But like tomorrow morning, before I have to go to work so he won’t know I fucked you just now when he sees me happy tomorrow.”
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yoomiii123 · 2 years ago
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Twilight Advent - Day 11
Twilight Advent Calendar, Day 11: What did Alice look forward to about joining the Cullens?
There were a lot of things she looked forward to, but the main thing was that joining the Cullens meant she would finally be a part of something. No longer an outsider looking in, waiting. Finally being an active member of things that were to come.
To make up for the day-late post, I wrote a small ficlet (~1'200 words) about Jasper observing a change in Alice because of this below :-)
The moment has come
I was sitting on the couch in the living room, a stack of newspapers to my left. Carlisle had graciously offered them to me when he learned that Alice and I had been more or less 'off grid' for the last two years. Neither of us had pointed out that the gap in my knowledge of current events was much wider than just those last 17 months. It was better this way.
My hands were going through the pages, flipping them one by one, unfolding, and re-folding new issues at a reasonable speed but my eyes were monitoring Alice. She was with Esme in the dining room, perusing family albums. I had determined that the caramel-haired vampire was no threat to her days ago, and yet I still couldn't stop watching them. Something had changed in her. And I couldn't quite figure out what it was.
The fact that I wasn’t able to openly explore her new flavour of emotions or just ask her upfront, hadn't helped. But now Edward was gone, finally. He and Carlisle had left to hunt 19 minutes ago. Originally, it was supposed to be Edward and Emmett, however, when I declined their invitation to join them, that plan had quickly changed. Now Carlisle had gone with, and Emmett was on the other side of the living room, supposedly doing homework with Rosalie but more likely watching me.
I had been surprised by the fact that although Edward was clearly Carlisle's second-in-command when it came to leading this coven, they relied a lot on Emmett for protection. He was not an unreasonable choice, but with his sunny disposition and — as far as I could tell — a rather straightforward way of thinking, he didn't seem like the best choice. Not to watch someone like me, who was more than used to being outmatched in terms of strength.
I wasn't willing to dismiss his chances against me yet, however. While Alice and I had been very sparing with the details about my past and I had been impressed myself with how much I'd been able to control my thoughts around Edward, I doubted that a well-travelled man like Carlisle didn't put the scars and the mention of Texas together. He and Edward must have had a reason to pick Emmett.
Maybe I should take him up on his offer.
“I’d love to fight you,” had been the first words he had directed at me, after Carlisle had jumped in and defused the situation that ensued upon Emmett and Edward’s return on the afternoon, we met the Cullens. Back then, his tone had been earnest, and the words were undoubtedly meant to intimidate – the action of a man who aimed to assess the threat to his family. But he had re-iterated the sentiment several times since, in a much more playful and jovial tune. By now, I was certain that his offer to spar was solely meant as a bit of good fun. Still, I hadn’t taken him up on it.
Yet.
It was tempting. The certainty that observing him fight would bring could be an invaluable advantage, if, at some point, we weren’t welcome her anymore. However, the risks were considerable. I had to admit that I’d been wound tightly over the last few days, keeping my gift hidden and safeguarding my thoughts from Edward while watching Alice, who had abandoned all prudence after a mere hour (to be honest, I was proud of her that she kept my warning in mind that long), had taken a toll. There was a good chance that, when put in the familiar situation of a fight, my instincts would kick in. And if that happened, me exposing my gift was the least worrisome of consequences that could ensue. I could seriously injure Emmett, ensure that Alice’s dream of a family would forever be lost. Or worst, I could end up killing one of them.
Even if Alice had no reservations, our chances against their coven of five were dim. With the way things currently were, they were borderline zero. I couldn’t risk a fight like that.
A jolt of energy flashed up my arm and pulled me from my thoughts. I instinctively pulled my hand back. An unnecessary motion, her fingers had long left my skin again and she’d taken a seat next to me on the sofa.
Her eyes said ‘Sorry’, but she was wise enough to not speak the apology aloud. Instead, she motioned to the newspaper in my hands. “That article must be very interesting.”
I looked down at the page as well. I hadn’t turned in minutes. What a rookie’s mistake; I should have known better. I should have better control over my mind and body by now. But then, Edward’s absence was the first chance I’d gotten to do some real reflection.
“You don’t have to watch me. No one here is going to hurt me,” Alice continued in a lower voice. Not quite low enough though.
My eyes quickly flashed to Emmett. He didn’t look up from his textbook. Rosalie’s pen continued scratching on the paper as well. Either they weren’t eavesdropping, or they were very good at hiding it.
“It’s not that,” I returned, resisting the urge to whisper so that the other’s couldn’t listen in. I didn’t want them to become suspicious. “You’ve changed.”
Alice pulled her legs closer and directed her full attention to me now, away from the newspapers. “How so?”
I searched for words to make her understand while simultaneously not exposing my gift. “You seem happier. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Of course, I’m happy! We’re finally here with our family,” she returned, smiling as she looked over at Emmett and Rosalie.
“It’s not just that…” Again, I was searching for the right way to put what I was trying to say. How I’d have loved to just take her and get away from this place for a few hours, talk things through openly. But I wasn’t sure that it would be wise to get up and leave for a few hours after they’d just observed us ‘conspire’.
“You’re calmer… Perfectly at ease.” You’re also not looking out for visions much anymore, I added in my head but decided to keep that to myself. “It wasn’t like this before.” When it was just the two of us.
Alice’s eyes widened. I hoped it meant she understood. “Oh Jazz,” she smiled and put her hand on mine again. This time, her bliss came as a gentle wave. It filled the cells on the back of my hand, ran warm shivers up my arm and spread a calm I hadn’t been able to find for days in my entire body.
I let myself enjoy it for a few seconds, before pulling my hand back again. There were still three vampires in this house, likely watching us. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.
Disappointment flashed in Alice for a second, but she didn’t let it get to her. “I was perfectly happy before, as well,” she explained. “But I was still waiting. My whole life, I’ve been waiting for something. Always watching in, always on the outside wishing for the moment I could finally be a part of things. Us being here means that this moment has come.”
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kayla-comm476-blog · 1 year ago
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The Intersection of True Crime & Social Media: When Does It Go Too Far?
By: Kayla Downing
Introduction
It is human nature to be fascinated by the macabre and the truly horrifying. Most people when they see a car accident on the side of the highway will slow down to observe the crash and comment on the aftermath. I think this translates into the modern fascination with true crime. True crime, as defined by the Cambridge Dictionary, are books, movies, podcasts, documentaries, etcetera about real crimes that happened to real people. The most “popular” genre of true crime tends to revolve around serial killers, gruesome murders, or kidnappings and torturings. True crime as a genre was brought to fruition in 1966 with the publication of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood, however the genre stayed relatively obscure until the late 2010’s. True crime in recent years has become a common fascination, especially among young adult & teenage women. There are countless communities online dedicated to the dissection of true crime cases, specifically on Twitter (personal note: I understand that the name of the platform is now “X”, however, I will still most likely be calling it Twitter throughout this post) and TikTok. 
Since 2018, true crime has seen an even larger spike in popularity, and during the pandemic the genre skyrocketed. YouTube videos on the genre saw a large uptick in views, and in 2019 it only grew larger. Channels like Bailey Sarian and her segment “Murder, Mystery & Makeup” or Buzzfeed Unsolved have been pioneers in the genre gaining popularity, especially within the young adult & teenage women audience. 
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So, why has this genre become so popular? What is so appealing about it, especially to women? What is the effect of this genre gaining popularity, on the families of the victims as well as those who are now investing in the genre? Within this blog post, I want to look at the Gabby Petito case (a very well documented murder case of how social media can affect murder investigations), the social media response surrounding the release of the Ted Bundy movie starring Zac Efron Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile, and end out by understanding how this fascination with the genre affects our empathy and how it affects those who are closely related to those true crime cases.
The TikTok Hunt for Gabby Petito
Gabby Petito, a 22-year-old TikToker, was about to go on a cross-country roadtrip with her fiancé in their RV when she went missing around the end of August 2021. Her fiancé, Brian Laundrie, eventually returned to their shared home in early September without Gabby, disappearing off the grid two weeks later, and causing a widespread hunt for Laundrie and search for Gabby. People quickly pointed the finger at Laundrie, and all over social media people were desperate for clues to his whereabouts to bring him to justice for what was, at the time, the supposed murder of Gabby Petito. Eventually, authorities were able to find the remains of both individuals and rule their causes of death: strangulation for Gabby, and suicide for Laundrie. From there, the public widely considered Laundrie to be the cause of Gabby’s death, and that he had committed suicide to save himself from the guilt and backlash.
While this case is extremely tragic in a lot of ways, something that can’t be understated is how much social media played a role in it, for better or for worse. It is through TikTok that investigators were able to find the RV that Gabby and Laundrie had been traveling in, as a couple combed through their own video footage of their bus road trip to find the last known location of Gabby’s RV. This was instrumental in being able to find her remains and then eventually rule her cause of death as a homicide. 
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However, there were also massive downsides and setbacks associated with the public’s fascination and obsession with the Gabby Petito case. People were claiming false sightings of the couple, or spreading viral theories about what could have happened. While the police and FBI never outright spoke on whether or not these impeded their investigations, it seems in poor taste to use the murder of a girl to go viral on TikTok.
Doing things like that can separate the person from the case, and lower the empathy towards the people who are legitimately suffering because of this; it draws them into the limelight on an extremely sensitive and hurtful topic, all because people want to get a couple million views on their videos.
The biggest thing, in my opinion, that people fail to remember when these large cases go viral is that they’re real people, not fictional. False accusations on social media have very impactful consequences, and false theories can spread misinformation that’s potentially harmful to more than just the direct parties. In this case, spreading rumors about sightings of both Laundrie and Gabby could have led the police and the FBI in the wrong direction for their investigation. There are also adverse effects for the family members, as they are now thrust into the limelight over something that’s truly tragic. 
The Response to Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile
Gabby Petito’s case is one of many examples of the desensitization to true crime through social media. Just recently, Netflix released their documentary series on the murderer Alex Murdagh only two weeks before the trial jury reached a consensus. It’s things like this that push our empathy out of our minds; after all, isn’t the psychology of a killer inherently interesting? But these documentaries don’t take into consideration the feelings of the victims. For instance, the creators of Netflix’s series on Jeffrey Dahmer didn’t reach out to any of the families of the victims for consent to create the show. A similar case happened with the release of their movie on Ted Bundy, Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile, which covered the Ted Bundy murders from the perspective of his longtime girlfriend, Liz.
This movie had seen its fair share of backlash upon and before release in 2019. When the movie was first announced, the casting of Zac Efron as Ted Bundy generated very controversial discussions. People felt it was “truthful” to the reality of the situation, as is commonly known from the court trial that people would proclaim Bundy’s innocence due to his attractiveness, and others called it insensitive to the families of the victims. 
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While perhaps the casting of Zac Efron wasn’t the smartest choice on Netflix’s part, it did create a lot of attention surrounding the movie, and therefore, the subject matter. People took to even calling Ted Bundy attractive and, from there, it was revealed that there even fan accounts dedicated to Ted Bundy, specifically on Twitter.
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People began to put Ted Bundy on such a pedestal; saying enough things about him being attractive that even Netflix had to release a statement about the things everyone was saying. All in all, it was a very telling reaction to the general public’s view on true crime and how desensitized to the truly violent acts they are.
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Social Media's Role in True Crime Desensitization
So, with all this being said, how does social media specifically play a role in the desensitizing of true crime & violent content to the greater public? Social media encourages the idea of marketing it as content (shows like “Cookies & Crime” or theory videos on people like Gabby Petito) rather than impactful news. When people watch a TikTok of a woman decorating a tombstone cookie while detailing the gruesome murders of a family, people aren’t registering the truly violent and, well, wicked things they’re hearing. Presenting the content in this manner does little to convey how dangerous, upsetting, and disturbing these cases are. True crime documentaries also exist at an all-time demand, especially post-pandemic where people found themselves scrounging for things to watch to keep them occupied. True crime podcasts consistently reign amongst the most popular podcasts, and new ones seem to pop up almost every week.
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This subject matter, as gruesome it may be, honestly does interest me to some extent (more or less, the fascination other people seem to have with true crime). When I was first starting college, I also wanted to potentially pursue a career in crime (I wanted to be a criminal psychologist) but in my sophomore year, I switched to communication. A large part of why I switched was because the biggest reason for me wanting to go into that major was the glorification of criminal profilers and criminal psychologists through social media or shows like CSI and Law & Order. So, at one point in time, I felt the exact same fascination that most other women do with true crime – and that’s another thing; why do so many women love the true crime genre? 
In my opinion, it’s because the young adult and teenage women are the prime demographic that most serial killers tend to target. While obviously there are cases like John Wayne Gacy or Jeffrey Dahmer who primarily target young men & boys, the large majority tend to target women. I think there’s also a fascination with understanding the mindset and motivations behind “psychopaths” or “sociopaths”. What drives them to want to torture? To maim? To kill? It’s questions that will hardly ever get truthful answers, and social media provides the perfect platform to build theories and communicate with other true crime fans to find out their own theories. It’s a vicious cycle that will probably always continue, and it’s one that (in my opinion) creates a want to be in the spotlight for these things. 
More often than not, people are more likely to be able to list the names of countless serial killers, kidnappers, and torturers. Those same people likely cannot begin to name one of the victims of those terrible people. That’s in large effect due to the media's obsession with those who commit the crimes rather than those who have suffered; after all, where’s the newsworthiness in talking about the life of a woman or man who suffered? School shootings produce exposés and biographies on the shooters, while the victims get little more than a passing remembrance after the initial newsbreak.
Conclusion
I know that this blog may seem a little all over the place, but I’m hoping the spirit of my message can still be heard and understood. In my opinion, news media & social media are big reasons why true crime shot up in popularity and why so many people have become “obsessed” with the genre and have a morbid fascination with the subject matter. 
I’d like to close this out by talking about the initial question posed in the title: when does this go too far? For me, it’s when the lines get blurred between understanding that these people are real and wanting to make content.
There is a need, especially in this day and age, to go viral by any means necessary, whether good or bad. People will lie about facial features (a la “Scar Girl” on TikTok), diseases (ticsandroses, who infamously faked having Tourette’s, or the countless young teens who seem to be faking Dissociative Identity Disorder), and more just to boost their view count. Controversy creates more talk and views than almost anything else, and true crime is one of the most controversial subject matters out there. Decorating and icing cookies as you touch on gruesome murders is, inherently, controversial; at its core, it’s dehumanizing the content in a way that it becomes hard to understand and appreciate the gravity of the situation. Those videos are filled with countless comments of things like “I love this case!” or “this content is so gross”; from there, people will share it with their friends to discuss, and at that point, the subject matter isn’t even entirely relevant to the conversation.
I think cases like Gabby Petito are a rare example of how social media can do good rather than harm in current true crime cases. There’s a term that was thrown around a lot during my research of “armchair detective”, in which people will sit from the comfort of their homes and try to solve violent crimes using tools available through social media. They will comb through post histories, playlists, anything they can get their hands on to (1) create theories on what could happened and (2) create viral content on these theories to generate either actual awareness on the issue (as I find, this happens rarely) or spark some type of debate. Armchair detectives normally do more harm than good in those situations as they can disseminate potentially harmful falsities that can impede an investigation (like what likely happened with Gabby Petito). However, it was these types of true crime fans that were able to identify where Gabby’s RV was and then help investigators locate her remains; it’s an extremely double-edged sword.
While I doubt that there’s anything I can really do to find or create a solution to stop this problem, I’d like to do what I can to bring attention to it. This is something I feel about deeply, especially considering I used to be someone who was really into and would consider themselves obsessive about true crime or serial killers. This type of content, and creating content specifically to go viral off of it, is harmful with really no way of changing it. Very rarely do these videos give spotlight to the victims. Beyond that, most families of the victims wish for nothing more than these types of stories to lose their traction and fade away. I can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel, as a family member of someone whom Ted Bundy killed, to see people idolize him and proclaim his innocence. Or how it must feel to see new documentary after film after TV show detailing who he was, how he murdered people, etcetera. As a whole, our society can do a lot better by these families, and I think we should. After all we’ve done to force the murderer of their daughter or son or sister or brother in their faces, I think it’s the least of what we owe them.
Bibliography
Bentley, L. (2023, March 31). The internet’s true crime obsession has gone too far. The Diamondback. https://dbknews.com/2023/03/31/internet-tiktok-true-crime-documentary-criminal-subculture/ 
Board, L. E. (2023, January 9). The rise of Social Media Crime Solvers. Grand Valley Lanthorn. https://lanthorn.com/95858/opinion/the-rise-of-social-media-crime-solvers/ 
Chu, A. (2021, September 20). Gabby Petito case: Tampa family spots White Camper Van in video - wtsp.com. WTSP. https://www.wtsp.com/article/news/special-reports/gabby-petito-case/tampa-family-gabby-petito-van-video/67-cb4ea49a-b778-4a5c-980b-4510a0b5ba84 
Cross, B. (2023, February 25). The Dark Side of social media: How true crime content is trending. Cold Case Inc. https://coldcaseinc.com/the-dark-side-of-social-media-how-true-crime-content-is-trending/ 
Maxouris, C. (2022, January 21). A timeline of 22-year-old Gabby Petito’s case. CNN. https://www.cnn.com/2021/09/16/us/gabby-petito-timeline-missing-case/index.html 
Sayles, J. (2021, July 9). The Bloody Bubble. The Ringer. https://www.theringer.com/tv/2021/7/9/22567381/true-crime-documentaries-boom-bubble-netflix-hbo 
Whitehurst, L., & Licon, A. G. (2021, September 29). Gabby Petito story boosted by social media, true-crime craze. AP News. https://apnews.com/article/gabby-petito-social-media-tiktok-investigation-d2e9a5d627c2f39b5633174239c3beaf 
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russellsppttemplates · 2 years ago
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Many more to come (George Russell)
The shelves at Y/N's and George's flat were getting smaller for the amount of books and trophies that find themselves into their place
Note: english is not my first language. I added a little something, I hope it is okay!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
Tw: curse words, small mentions of smut
"What are we here for again?", your friend said as she pushed the shopping cart, "our shelves are getting full and we need some new ones. George has been squeezing his trophies in there at this point and they deserve a nice place", you explained as you looked at your phone, the code of the material you needed written in your notes app.
You and your friend had made an afternoon trip to IKEA after sharing lunch in town since you hadn't seen her in a bit and you also needed help with the things you were buying.
Looking down at your phone and the cart you had in front of you, you double checked you had gotten everything you needed before paying and somehow managing to fit everything in your car. Your friend had helped you carry the things to the flat before she bid you goodbye, leaving you to organise your work for the next couple of hours as you turned on the TV, catching the qualifying broadcast with ten minutes to spare.
You changed into your leggings and one of George's t-shirts, combing the hair away from your face as you got on with removing the books from their shelves as well as the trophies that George had collected over the years, cleaning them a bit before placing everything back in, your eyes travelling to the TV so you could see your boyfriend get in the first top 3. Later that night, George called you via facetime, "hello my love, congratulations on your grid position for tomorrow", you said as soon as the connection was settled, George appearing on your screen, his body sprawled on the white bed sheets as you admired how his eyes contrasted with his tanned skin and the colour of the bedding as he began to tell you about the day. "With all the grid penalties and the car, we kind of expected it but it's still good enough, the guys are feeling confident about tomorrow", he smiled "That just means everyone's doing a good job, that the car is heading where it is supposed to be, finally. How are you feeling about tomorrow?", you asked, snuggling further into the blanket you had draped around yourself, "I feel good about it, I know we have RedBull and Ferrari at it too but there seems to be some pace in the car", he said confidently, "You'll give it your best, I just know it", your proud smile could be seen from the stars even as you looked at George.
"Do you have any plans for when I'm back? I think I'm getting home just before dinner, and not going to lie, I really want to spend some time just the two of us", your boyfriend expressed and you thought it would be the perfect plan, "me too, I can actually think of a nice thing for us to do", you said as you looked to the pieces that you and George would hopefully be able to build into furniture before talking some more and then bidding eachother goodbye.
George had finished in third, and after a quick phonecall he was on his way back home to you, takeout already ordered to celebrate his race. You were putting the final things on the table when you heard the front door unlock, going to the corridor to see your tall boyfriend walking in and take his shoes off before discarding his bags next to the door, "Hello darling", he said as you made grabby hands at him as you approached him, landing on his chest as you enjoyed the feeling of being back in his arms, "I'm so proud of you, my love", you said as you looked up at him, puckering your lips so he could meet yours in a kiss halfway.
"So, what's this plan you have for us tonight?", George asked as he kept his arms around you while you guys made your way into the table on the living area of the place, "I ordered some food because I'm starving and I thought you'd be too, and if you're not too tired, we can build some new shelves for my books and your trophies", you tempted him, "the collection is growing and they deserve a nice place to be shown, not all cramped up in the unit there", you pointed to a spot that somehow was fitting four of his trophies, along with a few helmets that also deserved a worthier place to be. George chuckled before he placed another kiss on your forehead, "and how do you plan to build it? You're not suggesting we suddenly turn carpenters in a couple of hours, are you?", he teased before you headed to the room where you had kept the new boards, the one closest to your reach ending up covering your height and George online giggled further as he was only able to see your feet and hands, "So you're the board? I don't think your butt is flat in the slightest though darling, I don't think that's going to work", George teased before he grabbed the wooden board and set it back in the floor, his hands moving to your butt and giving it a squeeze, "When did you get all of these? You said you were going for lunch". Pulling his hand so you could go back to the table to eat, you sat down and started opening the boxes, "I needed help to get all of this from IKEA so she helped me after lunch", you explained as you both dug in.
The instructions were open in front of you, with you separating each time of screw in little plates to avoid mixing them up as you handed George what he asked, "No you can grab that bigger one and join those two while I do these", he said as you got to work before getting up so you could both lift it, "Careful with your fingers when we put it against the wall, darling", the driver reminded you, his worry ever so present as you finally got your furniture placed.
"Well done, Bob the builder has nothing on us", you said as you highfived your boyfriend, "Now, how many trophies do we have to put here?", you started counting the ones you set on the table before George came back from the bedroom with the new acquisition to his collection he retrieved from his bag, "Oh, this one is pretty", you said looking at it as you made a quick math about where and how you could fit everything. "Where is this one from?", you asked, not recognising it straight away, "that's from F2, it was the first one I won in there, even my grandma went to watch that one", he said as he grabbed the trophy and reminisced in the memory, "but I do know this one", you grabbed the first trophy he had won when you were dating, the day one of the core memories you had together. George had invited you to a race and, since his parents were not able to be there, you were alone in his garage and that was when you noticed what he meant when he said they were family too. How everyone had welcomed you and offered you everything they could, how they had given you a set of headphones and how you were able to talk to so many people from the team without feeling like you were the odd one and, to finish it off, how George had won that race. "It was also the day I realised you were it too", George said as he kissed your cheek, helping you arrange it in the shelf.
George volunteered to help with the books and his helmets as you grabbed his trophies, quickly reaching to a halt, "Darling, I can't reach the upper shelf, ai need your help please", you blushed at your admission as George finished putting the last stack of books in one of the lower shelves, "Come on, up", he said as he got up and patted your thigh, hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around his strong waist and you both finished your work. Admiring all of it, George noticed how you had left a bit of space empty, "Why don't we move those around that one? It looks weird with that emptiness there", he suggested, "George, at the speed you're going, quite literally, that space is going to be filled anytime soon, there's many more to come from where those came from", you smiled as you grabbed your boyfriend's neck, pulling his face to yours as a kiss developed to a few more, his hands going back to your hips as he caressed your skin under the t-shirt you were wearing. "You think so, hm?", he said cockily as he hoisted you up again, his hands grabbing your thighs as he carried you to the bedroom for some final celebrations.
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annieoftheshitposts · 2 years ago
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GOD right yeah so the scrapped arg. this stuff is OLD, like, from 2018 ok. but even if it never went anywhere i did have a ton of fun coming up with the mechanics and story, and did a decent bit of groundwork for getting it set up, so this is a long post with a lot of images.
for a good long while i was kicking around the idea of a doing “double takeover” thing where, for one reason or another, annie would just be Not Around, and not the one answering questions. just suddenly switch to double shapeshifted as annie and never comment on it until someone tried to point it out. i did a handful of sketches exploring this.
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the sword? you mean this sword that ive defintiely always had and didn’t just shapeshift out of my body? yeah it’s a cool sword.
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i like to imagine double would just be really fucking salty about any praise annie gets too. and then the inevitable heel turn when someone Did catch on and call her out.
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it never really went anywhere because frankly annie’s too powerful for most forces in the sg universe to be able to keep her restrained somewhere against her will; there was a vague idea about her somehow having gotten separated from sagan, which would not only severely nerf her power but also provide prime angst material. ultimately though it was all still just idle musings, until i started thinking about how i was gonna handle annie’s eventually being included in indivisible, and how to do asks with the characters in that game.
so first off, there was gonna be this whole Mechanic™ for how she passed between the two games; nothing super fancy, if anyone remembers star vs. the forces of evil and how the “dimensional scissors” worked there, it’s pretty much the same thing. just a little trinket she can pull out and make portals/holes between game universes.
second, only annie and sagan can use the said portals; any other characters or objects that try to go through, from either side, are met with a sort of ‘compatibility error’; just in that the programming to let them exist isn’t present in the other game, and so they can’t pass through. anything else that does try to go through just kind of gets vaporized. momentarily. it re-materializes a few seconds later, wherever it was last before trying to go through so nbd. yknow the material emancipation grids from portal? it’s like that but it just sort of rewinds stuff a few seconds instead of killing it.
i was going to have beowulf try to follow her into indivis world and then promptly get vaporized to demonstrate this, which would have been really funny. for me. not so much for annie, watching it happen.
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dont worry though hes fine. again it’s only momentary, it just caught them off-guard. i could never hurt dear sweet beowulf.
so anyway we go on answering asks normally with annie going back and forth between indivis and sg for awhile; however long it takes to get comfortable with the game-hopping mechanic, and then at one point when we’re Supposed to have her travel back to sg-verse, i just pull out the pink double-annies and say Nothing. this is where the arg begins.
the first leg of this is figuring out what the hell happened to annie. someone would have to call double out for Not Being Annie and start questioning her about what happened, and at some point i’d find a way to slip in that double has been using “console commands” on the blog, which you are to also then do. i did actually make the console command page, though it’s still 100% in messy beta test phase and there’s not really anything there that finalized or presentable or functional. but it exists and you can go look at it if you want, i don’t intend on deleting it. the important thing there is the “camera focus” toggle/links; this would have been the main gimmick of the arg. the camera is, by default, set to “main”, which is this “annieoftheshitposts” blog. annie is the player character here who receives the asks, so there’s not usually any discrepancy. however, now, with her being missing,  when you toggle the camera to view the “player character”, you’re brought to a DIFFERENT blog, where the real annie is, and where you are met with a post of annie now getting the whole “being vaporized when she tries to pass between games” deal.
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very rough bc i only drew it for testing/placeholder purposes but you get the idea. so anyways then you’d send annie questions on this Other blog to ask her what’s going on and get her caught up to speed what you know about double being on the main one now, etc. at some point you would be told about an Additional camera control, to let you see/go to a Third blog with venus and aeon to send THEM asks and get further information. [fun fact, if you remember my venus redesign? this is what it was for!] anyway we’d spend a good bit of time here just bouncing back and forth questioning the characters and relaying information between them to piece together what was going on.
and what’s going on is this: you know how in that one ending it’s shown that venus and aeon have a Physical Cartridge of the game skullgirls?  they noticed annie had been slipping in and out of the game/sg universe, and thought “hey, wouldn’t it be neat if we could lock her out permanently so she’s not always fucking up our endeavors?” and then they hacked/modded their game;  specifically to remove/patch annie out so that she gets the same ‘compatibility error’ thing when trying to return home and just becomes Stuck in indivis universe. yknow the whole shtick with vanellope in wreck-it ralph? pretty much that.
so then the second leg of the arg is getting her written/coded back IN to the skullgirls ‘verse. i never really figured out much about this part though. i was doing some stuff on twinery about like, passwords or something; you’d have to go on this whole goose chase to find them and then enter them on there and it’d let you access the actual stuff to do the little ‘coding’ activities or whatever. i dont know it has been like 4 years since i was actively planning all this. but anyway once all that is Done you’d go back to annie to let her know, and then she can go back home to this main blog to beat double’s ass and get things back to normal. the end!
but yeah i killed this blog to go focus on working with my own original stuff, and then indivisible itself also Fucking Died before annie ever got added, so all this is 200% never happening. but now you know.
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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years ago
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Civil War (Chapter Six)
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Summary: Bucky’s suspicious escape from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre and the fallout surrounding it makes (Y/N) reevaluate her opinion of the Accords.
Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: Last week’s chapter was really angsty and it kinda took a toll on me so here’s a sort of short filler chapter with slightly less angst! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Six (Previous Chapter)
While she couldn’t claim to be a spy or secret agent, (Y/N) had picked up a thing or two from hanging around so many of them over the past couple of years; she knew that Bucky would eventually need an exit once he was finished tearing through everyone in the building, and it was a safe bet to assume that the skilled assassin would choose to fly himself out of there instead of travel on foot at the risk of being apprehended. She was quick to locate the building’s stairwell, hurrying up the steps as the emergency lights and alarms continued to blare; when she reached the top floor, she flung open the door and stepped out into the dark and deserted hallway.
“God, I hope this thing works…” Mumbling under her breath, (Y/N) fiddled with the dials of the walkie talkie until she could hear the indistinct chatter of voices, only letting out a sigh of relief when she finally heard the one she needed to speak to. “Agent Ross, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I need backup on the-”
“(Y/L/N), what the hell are you doing?!”
“Your job, it would seem! I’m on the top floor and have reason to believe that-!”
Just then, a metallic hand came out of nowhere and ripped the walkie talkie from her hands, crushing it to pieces before tossing it aside. (Y/N) acted on instinct, rolling underneath Bucky’s outstretched arm and pulling a stun disc out of her pocket; landing upright, she chucked the stun disc at his metallic arm and took advantage of the assassin’s distraction to sweep his legs out from underneath him with one of her own.
“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you were a Sergeant in the U.S. Army during World War II!” She shouted, keenly aware that the distraction would only last a few more seconds. “You were Steve Rogers’ best friend and a Howling Commando!” Hastily backing out of the way, she watched with widened eyes as he ripped the electrified stun disc off his arm and leapt to his feet. “Bucky, I don’t believe that you bombed the U.N. but you need to stop and remember who you are!”
Bucky’s face was blank and devoid of any emotion, a far cry from the frightened man in the containment cell. He stalked towards her and while she had just enough time to duck the first punch he threw her way, she couldn’t dodge the second; the force of his fist’s impact on her jaw sent her flying back and crashing to the ground, her wrist screaming in protest as she tried and failed to break her fall. While he strode down the hallway to where she was sprawled on the floor, she hurriedly ripped all the stun discs out of her pocket and began throwing them as she crawled backwards. He avoided each and every stun disc she threw, but it bought her enough time to pick herself up off the ground and side-step his next attack; before she could land a kick or punch, though, his metal hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her easily into the air and slamming her hard against the wall.
(Y/N)’s hands came up to uselessly clutch at the metal fingers that were digging into her skin and her legs kicked out in desperation as she struggled for air; just as her vision was beginning to darken her eyes focused on the small tear in the sleeve of his shirt and the corner of a red star it barely revealed, and in desperation she cried out, “Sol…Soldat!”
The assassin froze, and (Y/N) watched as his hardened expression shifted into confusion. His metallic hand quickly loosened and she instantly crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, unable to move or even defend herself. Bucky’s heavy footsteps faded away and with a wheezing breath, she lifted her head in time to see Steve burst through the same stairwell door she’d come through moments before.
“(Y/N)!?” He hurried to her side and dropped down, his grease-smudged face filled with pure panic as he tugged her into his arms. “Oh God, you’re bleeding…!”
Steve’s free hand came up to touch her scratched jaw but she grabbed his wrist to halt his movement, ignoring how his brow furrowed in confusion as she whispered, “G-go, Steve…Bucky’s heading for…for the helipad…”
He firmly shook his head, blue eyes already set in determination. “No, baby, I’m not leaving you.”
“Bucky needs you!” (Y/N) insisted, suppressing her wince of pain as she stared up at him with a fiery resolve; sensing the conflict within the super-soldier, she released his wrist and gently rested her hand against his cheek with a sad smile. “Go.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Steve nodded and carefully eased her back onto the ground, giving her one final look before running down the hallway after the assassin; right before he turned the corner, she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch as the love of her life chased after the deadly assassin by himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the second time in two days, (Y/N) quietly sat and allowed herself to be patched up by a kindly paramedic. Not only did she still have a ruptured eardrum, she also had a large laceration along her jaw that required five stitches, a sprained wrist that was secured in a sturdy brace and a smattering of darkening finger-shaped bruises around her neck. Others weren’t as lucky as you were, she reminded herself, sadness washing over her as she thought of all the critically injured and dead CIA agents who’d also encountered the dangerous Winter Soldier during his rampage.
Once the paramedics finished treating her wounds, she made her way back to the control room and was immediately met by a sympathetic Natasha. “Here, I got you some tea with honey; it’ll help your throat feel better.” The spy handed her a warm to-go cup before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her into the glass-walled conference room, where Tony was already seated and resting his bruised head in his hand. “Secretary Ross’s gonna be here in a few minutes, hot-shot, so please try to be on your best behavior no matter what he says to rile you up.”
(Y/N) merely nodded and took a sip of her tea, wincing in pain as she swallowed. The injuries to her throat didn’t stop her from speaking but her own conscious did; she was beginning to realize that no matter what she could say or do to convince them that Bucky was innocent, they’d never listen and even if they did, there was nothing they could do about it under the Sokovia Accords. So, she made the decision to bide her time and wait until the right moment to bring up her theory.
The three of them sat together in weary silence, the turmoil of the past two days seeming to catch up to them, until Secretary Ross barged into the conference room with his trademark sneer on his face. “You two wanna fill me in on what happened and why a civilian’s still sitting in the middle of a covert CIA control room?”
As if sensing (Y/N)’s simmering irritation, Natasha stood and moved to lean against the back of her chair, placing a calming hand on her shoulder as she replied, “Barnes escaped custody with the aid of the U.N. psychiatrist sent to evaluate him; they knocked out the power grid to the city and used it as a distraction, and (Y/N) here was already in the building for questioning. She’s one of the many who tried and failed to stop Barnes from leaving the building.”
“After taking (Y/L/N) out of commission, Barnes tried leaving in a chopper but ended up crashing it on the helipad; he, Rogers and Wilson are all missing in action.” Tony glanced over at (Y/N) before returning his gaze to the Secretary of State. “That’s all we’ve got.”
“I don’t suppose you have any idea where they are?”
“We will, GSG-9’s got the borders covered, and Recon’s flying 24/7. They’ll get a hit; we’ll handle it.”
Secretary Ross scoffed at the billionaire. “You don’t get it, Stark, it’s not yours to handle. It’s clear you can’t be objective, so I’m putting Special Ops on this.”
The spy’s hand on her shoulder flexed. “What happens when the shooting starts? What, do you kill Steve Rogers?”
“If we’re provoked,” (Y/N)’s eyes widened in horror and in her shock, she almost missed what Ross said next. “Barnes would’ve been eliminated in Romania if it wasn’t for Rogers; there are dead people who would be alive now. Feel free to check my math.”
Tony’s eyes flicked over to meet theirs, an uncomfortable look filling his gaze as he turned back to Ross. “All due respect, you’re not going to solve this with boys and bullets, Ross. You gotta let us bring them in.”
“How would that end any differently from the last time?” The Secretary of State demanded.
The billionaire’s expression hardened at Ross’ silent implications. “Because this time, I won’t be wearing loafers and a silk shirt. Seventy-two hours, guaranteed.”
“Thirty-six hours,” Ross corrected, giving them all a pointed look before turning and walking out of the conference room, calling out over his shoulder, “Barnes…Rogers…Wilson…”
“Thank you, sir!” The glass door closed and Tony slumped in his seat with an exhausted sigh as he clutched his left arm. “My left arm is numb, is that normal?”
Moving around the table, Natasha patted the billionaire on his shoulder. “You all right?”
The two Avengers continued to talk in low tones but (Y/N) couldn’t focus on what they were saying; all she could think of were Secretary Ross’ cold-blooded words and the way he’d said them without so much as a hint of remorse. What horrified her more, though, was the fact that Tony and Natasha didn’t appear to be bothered by the threat against the lives of their former teammates. This is all wrong, she thought as her vision began to blur with unshed tears, her heart sinking into her stomach while she realized that Steve’s worst fears about the Accords were materializing right before her very eyes; blinking away her tears, she looked down at her now-bare ring finger and the longer she stared, the more her anger with the two Avengers grew.
“…head downstairs to talk to T’Challa. I’ll bring (Y/N) with me, since he seems to tolerate her more than the rest of us.”
“Before you do, though, she’s gonna need to sign the Accords; I don’t want Ross looking for any excuses to arrest her so we need to do this by the books.” She looked back up as Tony and Natasha turned to her, the billionaire’s brow raised in expectation while he continued. “That okay with you, Austen?”
(Y/N) was silent for a long moment and when she finally spoke, it was with a forced calmness and a clenched jaw. “Did I ever tell you two what my new novel Bring A Folding Chair is about? It chronicles the rise and fall of second-wave feminism in America as told through the eyes of a young investigative journalist.” Getting up from her seat, she crossed her arms over her chest and began pacing. “I focus on the successes of the movement while also highlighting its failures and shortcomings, because even the most well-intended things can inadvertently end up hurting others.” (Y/N) shook her head in agitation and glanced over at the two confused Avengers. “When it came to the Accords, I knew from the moment Secretary Ross told us about them that they were wrong, but I turned a willful blind eye to the truth because I was selfish and only cared about saving my relationship with Steve. But now…now my eyes are wide open.”
“(Y/N), take it easy-”
“Do not tell me to take it easy when you just sat there and listened to Ross practically order a hit on three people – two of which are your friends – who haven’t been legally convicted of any wrongdoing!” She yelled as her sore throat ached in protest but she ignored it, all the frustration and pain that had been building up inside of her finally boiling over. “Steve was right when he said I was too idealistic; I thought the world was made up of enough good people who would keep the Accords from becoming too authoritative but unfortunately, it’s made up of cowards like us who are only looking out for our own self-interests.” Her gaze shifted from Tony’s stunned expression to Natasha, whose face remained neutral but whose eyes conveyed the pain her words had caused; she swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded before continuing. “Well, I don’t know about you two but I can’t do it anymore.”
Without another word, (Y/N) stormed out into the control room and down one of the hallways to Agent Ross’ office, her uninjured hand curled into a fist at her side as she walked; the door of the agent’s office was open and he was in deep conversation with Sharon Carter, who was tapping away on a tablet while they talked. They both looked over at her as she entered the office, and Agent Ross’ brow furrowed in concern while he took in her injuries and stony expression. “Miss (Y/L/N). Agent 13 told me that you got roughed up pretty badly earlier; are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Agent Ross. Am I free to go?” The agent raised his brow, looking more amused that surprised by her demanding question, and she gritted her teeth before continuing. “In the past forty-eight hours I’ve attended a friend’s funeral, was nearly blown up in a suspected terrorist attack, was unjustly interrogated for several continuous hours, broke off my engagement to the love of my life and was nearly killed again by a brainwashed assassin. I’m filthy, I’m injured, I’m exhausted, and I’m just one more incident away from completely losing my shit so can I please leave now?”
Sharon cast her a fleeting glance and took a step forward. “Sir, she’s already given multiple statements to our agents and…well, to be frank, the Joint Terrorism Task Force is already facing scrutiny for not stopping Barnes’ escape. The criticism will only intensify when the news outlets catch wind that we’re holding an injured, world-famous author without probable cause.” Agent Ross considered her words, and Sharon shot her a warning glance before continuing. “I’ll drive her to a nearby hotel and keep an eye on her in case Rogers tries getting into contact; based on the events of the last few hours, though, I’m not so sure that he will.”
“All right,” He finally answered, his expression softening a little as he looked back at her. “But for the time being, Miss (Y/L/N), consider yourself on the no-fly list.”
Nodding in thanks, (Y/N) glanced back at Sharon and the agent gave her a brief smile. “I’ve got a few things to wrap up here so I’ll meet you down in the parking garage in ten.” She reached into her pockets and withdrew her car keys, pressing them into her open palm with another fleeting smile. “My car’s the grey Audi parked by the stairwell.”
(Y/N) walked out of the office and down the hallway but since the mechanics were still working on fixing the elevators after the power-outage, she was forced to take the stairs all the way down to the underground parking garage. She quickly located the agent’s car and unlocked it, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling her seat-belt; now that she was finally alone, she couldn’t stop herself as she lowered her head into her hands and cried, allowing all the pent-up emotions inside of her to finally be set free. In that moment, all she wanted to do was go back to when everything was normal, back before Lagos and her constant fighting with Steve and the goddamn Accords; it wasn’t perfect, of course, but it was a hundred times better than what they were all currently going through. “I’m so sorry, Steve…”
As her sobs finally began to subside, the stairwell door opened and Sharon walked through the doorway; she took a steadying breath and wiped the last of her tears away just as the agent opened the driver-side door and got it. Sharon reached over and opened the glove-box to reveal a package of tissues, flashing her a brief and sympathetic smile as she pulled one out and blew her nose. “I tend to start feeling better after I’ve had a good cry. How ‘bout you?”
“Not really, I still feel like shit except now my eyes itch and my nose is running,” (Y/N) half-heartedly quipped, dabbing at the corners of her eyes and sighing. “So, you know any good hotels around here?”
“The Kurhotel Strӧszek’s nice and it’s not too far from here, so that’ll make Agent Ross happy. On our way, we’ll stop at a pharmacy and pick you up some first aid sup-” The ringing of Sharon’s cell phone interrupted her words and she was quick to answer it. “Agent 13 here…Steve?” (Y/N) instantly perked up and with a brief gesture for her to stay quiet, the agent switched to speakerphone. “Okay, I’m alone. What’s up?”
“We’ve figured out what’s going on,” Steve’s voice answered through the phone’s speaker and (Y/N) bit her lip to keep from making a sound at the comforting timbre. “The doctor framed Bucky for the U.N. bombing in order to find out where Hydra kept him. They created five other Winter Soldiers back in the 90’s and had them cryogenically frozen; he’s planning on waking them, says he’s doing it to see an empire fall.”
“So, you three need your gear before you can go after him.”
The super-soldier sighed. “I know that it’s a lot to ask, Sharon-”
“You’re trying to stop a squad of murderous super-soldiers from taking over the world, Rogers; if this is how I can help stop that from happening, then I’m in. I’ll send you a message when I’ve got the gear and we’ll arrange a meeting.”
“Thank you, Sharon, I owe you one. How…how’s (Y/N) doing?”
“She’s okay; lacerated jaw, sprained wrist and a whole lot of bruising, but she’s fine.” Steve breathed a deep sigh of relief that made (Y/N)’s heart warm and the agent gave her a sideways glance before continuing. “You should know that she’s refused to sign the Accords. I’ve been assigned to escort her to a hotel, where she’ll stay until she’s taken off the CIA’s no-fly list and can go back home…”
There was silence over the line and just as she began wondering if they’d somehow been disconnected, Steve quietly spoke, “I’ve already asked you for one favor but can I bother you for another?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“If I write a letter, can you make sure that it gets to (Y/N)? There’s a lot that I need to tell her and since I don’t know what’ll happen where we’re going…well, she deserves answers one way or another.”
Sharon’s eyes flicked between (Y/N)’s saddened expression and the cell phone in her hand as she nodded. “Of course, I’ll pick it up when I hand over your gear. Talk to you later, Rogers.”
Hanging up, the agent tucked the phone into her pocket and quickly started the engine, buckling up and driving at a steady speed through the parking garage and out onto the street; (Y/N) fiddled with the hem of her wrinkled shirt for a thought-filled moment before stating, “You’ve already got a plan.”
“Let’s just say that I’ve been prepared to follow through on a favor like this one for a while now,” Sharon spared her a sideways glance and focused back on the road. “But I won’t say anything else about it on the off-chance the CIA decides to question you somewhere down the line; the last thing I want is for you to be charged with aiding and abetting in the theft of government property.”
(Y/N) glanced down at her bare ring finger and thought back on Steve’s words during his phone call; she was desperate to find out what was in the letter but at the same time, she knew in her heart that she needed to hear whatever it was directly from him. The thought reminded her of their conversation about the problems within their relationship in the London hotel’s bar, the last truly calm moment they’d shared before everything went sideways…
“Whatever it is, we can work through it together. We make a damn good team, after all.”
“Of course we do, sunshine.”
There’s something I have to do before Steve and the others go after those super-soldiers, (Y/N) thought to herself, her shoulders squared in determination as she turned to glance at Sharon beside her and pondered the best way to ask the spy for a third and final favor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Russian Translation: Soldat-Soldier
A/N: Next chapter will have even less angst so yay! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!
Spotify Playlist:  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=b1abdaeccc4c4d21
Chapter Seven
Civil War Masterlist
Tagging: @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117​ @cminr​​​​​ @natdrunk​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud​ @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @khuang3​​​​​ @supersouthy​​​​​ @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​ @supreme-tantrum​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy​​​​​ @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345​​​​​ @crist1216​​​​​ @aesthethickks​​
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woah-were-halfway-there · 4 years ago
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Just What I Needed: Part 4
A/N: 👀
Series masterlist
Word Count: 18.2k
You slowly blinked your eyes open, feeling relaxed and rested. Sunlight poured in through the window and filled the room with a sense of warmth in contrast to how cold you knew the late January air felt outside. 
A sigh of content left your mouth as you stretched and glanced around the room. Although it was no match to the comfort you felt in your bed at home, it was cozy and rather quaint. 
Frank was still laying at the foot of the bed, stirring awake as a result of your movements, but wasting no time in getting up so he could attack you with kisses. 
"Hey, buddy," you chuckled and started scratching behind his ears in his favourite spot. After a moment of giving Frank the attention he craved, your gaze then drifted to the corner of the room where an empty playpen rested.
In your hurry to get out of your house the night before and get to where your family was, you didn't even think of grabbing Mia's travel bed for her to sleep in when you got to Alice's cousin's house. Luckily for you, though, Alice's cousin was a grandma and had things in the house that Mia could use for the night. 
Usually, if you woke up to find Mia not in the spot you'd put her to bed, you'd panic. However, you had gotten used to mornings where you would wake up and know that Auston was already up and downstairs with your daughter, getting ready for the day. This situation was no different because you knew that either your dad, Alice, but more than likely Nate, snuck into the room and took her while trying not to disturb you. 
"Couldn't even warn me about someone taking Mia, huh?" You said to Frank as you sat up, chuckling at how he must've been so unbothered by whoever came into the room and grabbed Mia that morning, seeing as he knew they posed no threat to your little girl. "That's ok. I know you would've gone nuts if it was someone you knew shouldn't have been near her." 
Frank just made one of his typical noises in response to that, then licked your face once more before moving away so that you could get up. Before you climbed out of bed, you made sure to grab your phone from where it laid next to you on the mattress and not to your surprise, it was dead. 
You knew the battery died shortly after you got to the house, and then you got so wound up with trying to get Mia calmed down for the night. You must've forgotten to plug it in before you passed out from exhaustion almost as soon as your head hit the pillow, which you didn't overthink. So, with a shrug, you threw on one of Auston's hoodies that you grabbed the night before and headed for the washroom. 
As you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you couldn't help but smile as you listened to Mia giggling like crazy from downstairs. You then heard your brother just messing around with her and felt your heart swell at the thought of the two together. Mia and Nate adored each other, and it made you so freaking happy to see. 
Once you finished your half-assed morning routine, then packed up yours and Mia's things, you and Frank went downstairs, but you stopped in the living room briefly to plug your phone into the charger you spotted there the night before, then made your way to the kitchen to see your family. 
However, when you entered the room, only Mia seemed excited to see you. Meanwhile, your dad, Alice and Nate looked worried for some reason. 
"Uh, good morning," you greeted, then scratched your head awkwardly as they all looked at each other in a way that you didn't know the meaning behind.
"Mommy!" Mia said happily and began reaching for you from where she was being held by Nate on the other side of the room, noticing how she was already in much better spirits than she had been the night before. 
"Hi, baby," you replied, smiling as you approached the two and took her from your brother's hold. "Are you feeling better today?"
"Yeah," she answered, then laid her head against your shoulder. 
"I don't think her ear is hurting as much anymore," Alice was the first to speak as she smiled at you and Mia. "But it probably wouldn't hurt for her just to take it easy today to make sure."
"Well, we can do that, can't we, little miss?" You asked your daughter, to which she nodded in response. After placing a quick peck on her forehead, you then looked around at your family and could still feel that something was up with them. "Did something happen? You all just kind of seem… off for some reason."
You then watched as your dad, Alice and Nate, gave each other a hesitant look before your dad finally said something. 
"Have you talked to Auston at all?"
"No, not since yesterday," you explained. "I told him Mia wasn't feeling well before his game, but then got caught up with everything with coming over here and her not doing well, so I haven't talked to him since. Plus, my phone died. Why?"
"You, uh, you might want to head home to see him then," Nate said while looking at you nervously. 
"Wait, he's home?" You asked, feeling confused as your brother nodded. "But the team isn't supposed to be back until later this afternoon."
"Exactly," Nate replied again but still did nothing to help how lost you felt. 
"Nate, why do I feel you're not telling me something?"
At that, your brother sighed before glancing at your dad and Alice once more. 
"I woke up to five missed calls from him. So, I called him back like ten minutes ago to find out that he spent the entire night thinking you packed up your things, took Mia and Frank, and left him."
"What?" Was all you were able to respond with because honestly, you weren't able to comprehend such a ridiculous idea. 
Why the hell would Auston think you were leaving him? Was it something you said? Something you did? You raked your mind for ideas of what the hell happened that could've possibly made him come to this conclusion but came up with nothing. 
Then, with one final look at your brother, you adjusted your hold on Mia then went straight for the living room so you could check your phone. 
"What's wrong, mommy?" Mia asked curiously as she continued gripping on to you. 
"Nothing for you to worry about, baby," you assured her. "This is between your dad and me."
Once you entered the living room, you saw your phone light up with some kind of notification, so you knew it was on again, but weren't sure if you were prepared to see what would be waiting on the screen when you finally looked at it. So, after taking a deep breath, you held Mia close and braced yourself for what was about to come. 
The first thing you saw once you tapped your screen were the numerous missed calls and texts from Auston. However, there were also missed notifications from Ema, Brian, both of Auston's sisters, Mya, Steph, Mitch, Lexie and a couple more of your friends, all wondering where the hell you had gone. Although dramatic, some of the messages from Steph were her asking if you were kidnapped or decided to fall off the grid, and it wasn't until then you realized, with how overwhelmed you were with Mia the night before, it very easily could've seemed that way. Especially to Auston. 
And it wasn't even 9 a.m. yet. 
"Fuck," you whispered to yourself, but unfortunately, still loud enough for Mia to hear. 
She gasped, which had you glance at her right away. "That's a bad word."
"You're right, that is a bad word," you agreed, then unplugged your phone and headed towards the kitchen again. "But we're not going to repeat it, right? You didn't hear it from me."
"Yes, I did, mama," she responded, calling you out on your bullshit, then giggling when you gave her a surprised look. 
"Mia! The sass, I can't. You get that from your father."
"Nope."
"What do you mean nope!?"
You continued looking at her incredulously, which made her giggle even more, and that didn't stop until after the two of you were back in the kitchen. 
"Even Mia knows she gets her sass from you," Nate said and wasted no time taking Mia from your hold again. "So, what are you going to do with Auston?"
"I don't think there's much else I can do other than go home right now and talk to him," you replied, then glanced at your dad and Alice. "Would you guys mind watching Mia for an hour or so? I'm really sorry to ask, but I'd prefer that she wasn't there when Auston and I have this conversation."
"Of course we can watch her," your dad replied. "Sweetheart, it's ok to ask for help. And there's no need for you to apologize about it either."
"I know, it's just-," you started, then paused. "I guess I've been forgetting that lately. Maybe that's part of why I'm now in this situation with Auston."
Your family looked at you sympathetically but refused to comment. This was something you and Auston needed to work out on your own. No one else's opinion should matter. 
"Everything is going to be fine, hun," Alice said. "We love having Mia around, so please, you and Auston, take all the time you need. Just call us when you're ready for Mia and Frank to come home too."
"I will," you told her with a smile, then looked back to Mia and pushed her curls away from her face as she leaned against Nate. "I'll be back soon, sweets. Can you promise me that you'll be good for Pa, Alice and Uncle Nate?"
"I promise, mommy," she replied and began waving at you, sending you on your way. Almost as if even she, too, knew that you needed to go talk to Auston asap. 
Lastly, you looked at your brother and let out a breath. 
"Auston needs this conversation as badly as you do," Nate said. "Try to hear him out too. You know he's going to listen to whatever you have to say, but you need to do the same for him. It's the least you could do."
"I understand that," you replied. "But Nate, for him to just assume I'd up and leave him? What the hell is that?"
"I don't know, but if you don't at least try to see things from his point of view too, you're not going to solve anything," he stated, making you sigh. 
"How was he when you talked to him?"
"Not great. Relieved to know that you and Mia were somewhere safe, though."
"I see," you nodded in understanding. "I guess I should get going. I think I'll take an Uber, then once we're done talking, can you bring Mia and Frank home in my car? Mia's seat and everything is already in there."
"Of course I can," he responded. "Just call me when you're ready, and I'll bring them over."
"I will. Thanks, Nate."
After that, you ran back upstairs to grab your things and put them in your car so Nate wouldn't have to worry about them when he was packing up Mia and Frank. After that, you ordered an Uber, then said goodbye to Mia and the rest of your family before heading outside to get into the waiting vehicle and began mentally preparing yourself to face your husband. 
As soon as you were in the Uber, you texted Auston to say you were on your way home, then put your phone back in your pocket. You didn't think he'd respond. In complete honesty, you didn't want him to either because you just didn't know what to say about the topic anymore. 
You began thinking of how mad you were that he just assumed you left him. Had things really gotten that bad between the two of you? Sure, you knew with everything going on in life, and how you've been feeling lately, things had been a little rough between the two of you, but not once did the thought of leaving your husband cross your mind, and it hurt to know that Auston was at a point where he believed that you would. 
After taking a deep breath to calm yourself down some, you glanced at your stomach and were reminded that on top of all this, you were still approaching your 20th week of pregnancy. You were almost halfway through your pregnancy and were due to meet your baby in less than five months, yet you were feeling the shittiest you've felt in a really long time. There was no way you could've ever predicted being in this type of situation, but, you still were. 
When the Uber came to a gradual stop at an intersection and the road sign indicating you were about to turn down the street your house was on, you became nervous as hell. You began rubbing small circles over your bump, trying to soothe your nerves and in some way communicate to your baby that everything was going to be ok, but unfortunately, you weren't so sure of that either. 
By the time the car came to a stop outside of your house, your heart was pounding. You didn't feel ready to have this conversation with Auston, and you hated the thought of not wanting to talk to your husband about something, but you knew it needed to happen. So, with another deep breath, you thanked your Uber driver, then got out of the car and walked up the driveway. 
Needless to say, you weren't exactly expecting the scene you came across once you walked through the front door and looked into the living room. 
Auston didn't notice you at first. In his defence, you did enter the house very quietly, but instead of greeting you like he usually would, he stayed sat on the couch, staring forward at seemingly nothing. He was completely zoned out as he hugged onto his body pillow and didn't move aside from the deep breaths he took every few seconds. So, you took this moment to observe him even more. 
His hair was dishevelled, subtle dark circles were forming under his eyes, and it was clear that he was still wearing the black Nike t-shirt and joggers he more than likely changed into once he got home the night before. His facial hair was a bit more excessive than usual. Typically, he would've shaved a little bit by then, but over the few days, since you last saw him, it was apparent that he hadn't, and it just really tied into the whole look he had going on. Then you noticed the throw blanket that rested in a heap on the other end of the couch and could only assume that was because Auston spent the night on the sofa rather than upstairs in your bed. 
He looked rough and going off of how he appeared on the outside. You could only imagine how shitty he was feeling on the inside. 
A cool breeze from outside then drifted in through the open door, making you shiver but also snap you back to reality from the trance you'd fallen into while observing your husband. You knew you probably shouldn't prolong the conversation you were about to have any more than you already had, so with another deep breath, you closed the door loud enough that Auston would notice and your presence would be known. 
The sudden noise made him jump, but it wasn't long before he was standing up from the couch and looking at you, concern written all over his face as he did so. It took him a second to realize that he was still hugging the body pillow but was quick in tossing it back onto the couch before walking towards you.
"Hey," Auston greeted softly once he walked into the foyer, but came to a stop after acknowledging the absence of the other person he was also looking forward to seeing again, his mouth turning into a frown. "Where's Mia?"
"With my family," you told your husband as you took your boots off and hung up your coat, then stepped towards him. "Nate is going to bring her and Frank back in a little bit. I didn't think she needed to hear us have this talk."
"I see," he replied while nodding in agreement. You continued looking at him, unsure if you should start the conversation or he should, and you could feel yourself gradually becoming more anxious than you were in the Uber with each passing second, but luckily, Auston spoke up again, your name sounding from his mouth in a whisper as he did so. "I don't even know where to start."
"Ok," you said, tears already pricking at the corners of your eyes as you tried focusing on keeping your breaths even since it felt like your chest kept getting tighter and tighter. "I will then. Auston, how dare you think I would just up and leave you? It's one thing to think that'd I'd do such a thing, but for you to assume I would ever do that to Mia? You could do your absolute worst to me, and I still wouldn't be able to keep our daughter away from her father. I could never do that to her or you, and it fucking hurts knowing that you think I would."
"I know you wouldn't, and it was wrong of me to assume otherwise," he replied calmly. "And I can't even begin to explain how sorry I am for that being the conclusion I jumped to. My mom already gave me enough shit for that, but it was the only thing that made sense to me at the time."
"How can you even say that?" You scoffed.
"Because, since Christmas, you've been pushing me away! You've been pushing everyone away for almost a month now, and we've all been worried about you. I thought you'd talk to me about the things bothering you, you always do, but this time has been different for some reason. You closed yourself off from me, babe. I haven't heard anything about your therapist appointments since before the holidays. You've barely told me about your last doctor's appointment and how the baby was doing. I just feel like there's so much going on with you that you won't let anyone know about."
"Because I refuse to bother people with my problems, Auston! My mind can be a damn scary place sometimes, ok. I haven't felt like myself for these past few weeks, and that is no one's battle to fight but my own."
"Why don't you realize that you don't have to fight those battles alone?" Auston's voice cracked as he said that, which struck something deep in you. "We're all on your side, Y/N. We want to help." 
It was evident that he cared so much about you and your wellbeing. You've always known that, and you didn't mean to block out him or any of your loved ones, but what else were you supposed to do? You didn't even know how to explain what you were feeling to him, just that it wasn't good. So, you continuously tried to distract yourself from your thoughts, even though, deep down, you knew what you were feeling all revolved around your pregnancy. And you believed Auston had a right to know that.
"Please let me back in."
You hadn't realized that your gaze drifted away from him until he said those words, and when you looked back at him, his eyes were watering like crazy. That's when your tears finally broke free and began streaming down your face.
Just as you were about to reply to him, though, you heard the radio that was playing softly in the kitchen, change songs. The familiar guitar riff of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' Under the Bridge and the distinctive voice of Anthony Kiedis wasn't loud or anything. Still, to you, it was deafening in how the lyrics resonated with the way you were feeling. 
The main difference between you and the lyrics was that you knew you had a partner and knew you had a friend in Auston. He hasn't given you a reason to doubt that. But still, if you were to say you didn't worry about things, well, that'd be a lie. 
"It breaks my heart knowing that our relationship is at a point where the thought of me leaving you would even cross your mind, though," you told him, your voice almost in a whisper. "And part of that is on me—a big part, which I get. I should've just told you what I was feeling and what was going on. I really don't know why I didn't. But Auston, you could've communicated with me too."
It was your voice that cracked then, and you were no longer able to keep in the sob that you felt building in your chest as soon as you started talking again. You didn't think much of it, but then you began sobbing uncontrollably and closed your eyes as you fought to catch your breath, but even that didn't seem to work. 
You felt as if you could collapse right then and there. Everything felt heavy. But before you could, Auston had his arms wrapped around you and was bringing you against his chest, keeping you up as you clung to him for support. By the way, he was shaking; you knew that he was crying as well, but couldn't bring yourself even to attempt to comfort him in some way too as he lowered you both to the ground, then pulled you into his lap. 
"Breathe, baby," Auston spoke softly as he rubbed small, soothing circles on your back, still making you a priority in all of this even though you were ready to rip him a new one only moments ago. "Slow down and just breathe for me, please."
Although you still took a few staggering breaths, you listened. Auston always held you against his chest like this when your anxiety got bad. It was a way for you to match his deep, steady breaths and eventually calm yourself down. It was also a way for him to remind you that he was there and wasn't going anywhere, which, honestly, was exactly what you needed from him at that moment. 
"I hate this," you said after a few moments, once your sobs turned into sniffles. "I hate feeling the way I do, I hate that I blocked out the people I care about the most, I really didn't mean to. But most of all, I hate fighting with you. I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry too," he replied, then leaned away so he could look at you but continued holding you as he did so. "I think we both messed up in this situation. God, I knew we could be bad at communicating sometimes, but I never thought it would get this bad."
"It's not very fun."
"Not at all."
The two of you chuckled slightly as he pushed back some of your hair away from your face, but the moment soon passed when you noticed Under the Bridge came to an end and With Me by Sum 41 started playing. Another song you knew would just hit differently during a moment like the one you and Auston were in. 
"You were stupid to think I would leave you, Auston," you stated. "I'm well beyond the point of even thinking I could go on without having you in my life in some way. How do you not know that?"
"I do, and that's the thing," he responded, then paused, smiling a little bit as you reached up to wipe away a tear that still rested on his cheek. "You're right. I was stupid to think that. I just felt like I've fucked up so much lately and that you had every reason to leave me if you wanted to. I know it's not easy with me coming and going all the time. You are absolutely incredible with the way you take care of Mia. You know that, right? She adores you. Even with you being pregnant and facing your own troubles, you never falter when it comes to making sure that our daughter is ok."
"Because regardless of whatever is going on with me, I am Mia's mom first. Above anything else. She will always be my priority."
"I know. I've always known that which is why I'm pissed at myself for not thinking why you weren't here when I got home last night was because you were doing just that. Prioritizing our daughter. I know how hard it must've been for your stubborn ass to swallow your pride and ask your family for help. But, you knew that was what was best for Mia and yourself. I'm so proud of you for making that call, babe, and I am so sorry if my overthinking and assuming the absolute worst made you think otherwise."
"It's ok," you told him honestly, then shifted your position on his lap, placing a leg on each side of his so that you were straddling his thighs in a way because you wanted to be face to face with him properly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, Aus. It's just- this pregnancy has not been easy. Nothing seems to be going right, and I-I'm at a point where I dread going to my appointments because I don't want to be told something bad again. I'm scared, and I didn't want anyone to see me like that. It makes me feel vulnerable."
"You can always be vulnerable with me," he said and made sure the two of you locked eye contact as he did. "I'm not going to hurt you, babe. I would never. You don't need to put up any walls. Be upset. Tell me what you're thinking like the other night when I missed dinner, for example. Don't let me off on that shit! If something is bothering you, especially if it's something I caused, please promise that you'll tell me about it from now on."
"That was kind of shitty of you, not gonna lie."
"I know it was, and I deserved to feel bad about it, but you care too much about others that you couldn't even tell me that."
"I didn't want you to feel bad about it, Auston. Ok, I mean, yeah, maybe a little bit at the time. But, you talk about not wanting to hurt me. I don't want to hurt you either, even if it is just a petty argument or comment. I love you too much."
"And I love you," he replied and leaned his head against yours. "You had every right to be mad at me that night, and you still do. But let me tell you that I suffered from thinking you left way more than you think. I was distraught. I just know that I need you in my life and the thought of you never coming home scared the shit out of me. Fuck, all of that drama on my part and for what?"
You laughed at that. 
"I can tell you were struggling by the body pillow and blankets on the couch. Couldn't sleep in our bed, hmm?"
"It was a rough night, ok? Sue me. And no, not while thinking I may never share it with you again."
"Good thing you never have to think that again then, right?" You asked and gave him a pointed look. "Because if you do, then we'll have real issues, Matthews. Right now, I'll give you a free pass because I know Ema would've given you an earful on my behalf already."
"You have no idea," he groaned and threw his head back dramatically. "I don't think I've ever been called so many synonyms of stupid all at once. It didn't help that Alex and Bre chimed in on it too."
"Sad I missed it," you teased. "And I promise to talk to you about everything, Aus. Please know that I really didn't mean to shut anyone out the way that I did."
"We all understand, babe, but I can assure you that everyone is going to be glad to have you back. Mitch and Steph especially have been missing you."
"I need to call them today. I miss them too."
You and Auston smiled at each other, then you noticed that all the weight you felt on your chest had seemingly disappeared.
"We're ok?" Auston asked before you could say anything else.
"We're ok," you repeated, then closed the gap between the two of you as you hugged him, happy with how the conversation turned out because you knew that he felt a lot better too. However, it wasn't long before he was moving away so that he could gently cup your cheek before leaning in again and connecting his lips to yours with a sweet kiss.
"I love you," you told him again while mumbling against his lips, not bothering to move away from him.
"I love you, more than anything," he assured, but unlike you, moved away so he could look at you again. "You, Mia and our little one on the way are my everything, Y/N. Please, never forget that."
"I won't, I promise."
About half an hour later, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch together, his body pillow and blankets completely forgotten. Auston laid between you and the back cushions, his head resting next to your bump as you mindlessly played with his hair, both waiting patiently for Mia and Frank to arrive home. 
After you and Auston cleared the air between the two of you, he then held onto you as he stood up off the ground and carried you into the living room. Soon after, he texted Nate to let him know that he could come over, and you didn't stop him. You were already missing Mia and knew that Auston was probably missing her a bit more. 
Luckily for both of you, your little girl was making her grand re-appearance as Nate brought her and Frank through the front door. She was giggling like crazy as Nate talked to her in a dramatic voice, but then saw how Frank booked it right for the living to greet you and Auston, and soon let out a squeal of delight once she spotted the two of you. 
"Daddy!"
"There's my girl!" Auston greeted her, smiling so freaking wide as he scrambled to get off the couch, but made sure to help you up as well before going over to take Mia from Nate's hold. "Hi, Mini! I missed you so much."
You couldn't help but smile too as you watched them, not missing how Auston seemingly held onto your daughter a bit tighter than usual and refused to let go. As you observed them, you leaned against the doorway of the living room and mindlessly rubbed your hand over your stomach but soon jumped when your brother nudged you with his elbow and snapped you out of your daze. 
"Told you everything was going to be fine," Nate smirked. 
"Whatever," you replied. "But thank you for watching Mia and Frank."
"Anytime."
The two of you then looked back to Auston and Mia as they chatted away. 
"What do you say we take Frank for a walk in a bit?" He asked Mia, to which she nodded in response excitedly. "Or better yet, how about when Mitchy gets home later, we see if he, Steph and Zeus are up for a little visit?"
"My Mitchy!"
"Yes, your Mitchy, baby girl. C'mon, let's go get you a little snack first."
You and Nate laughed as you watched the two, but before Auston could head down the hallway to the kitchen with Mia, your brother stepped away from your side and spoke up.
"Wait, Auston, before you go, I have a question," Nate said, then glanced between you and him. "For you and Y/N, actually."
"What's up?" Auston asked as he came to a stop and shifted Mia in his hold. 
"Ok, I know it's probably a weird thing to ask, but hear me out."
"Nate, just spit it out," you joked as you pushed away from the doorframe and went to stand with Auston and Mia. 
"Rude," your brother replied but brushed your comment off quickly. "I was thinking, well, if you're ok with it, that maybe I stay here with you guys for a while?"
"What?" You asked, surprised.
"Feel free to say no. It's just a suggestion. But, I work from home. That's why I could go to Florida with dad and Alice for so long, and I thought that maybe I could just stay here for a bit and do the same thing. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but I know you haven't been doing great health-wise, Y/N, and I want to help. I'm going to be back here in less than two weeks for Mia's birthday as it is. What if I just stayed then?"
You continued looking at your brother, completely shocked because that was not what you were expecting him to say. But, it wasn't much to process. It was actually a very genuine offer.
"You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?" Auston asked curiously.
"Since I was here at Christmas, yeah," Nate explained. "I figured it might be easier on you, Y/N and Mia to have an extra person here all the time, you know? Just to help out where I can and, of course, hang out with my favourite niece."
"Nate, are you sure?" You questioned. "You really don't have to."
"I want to, though. Or else I wouldn't have offered."
"Well, I have no issue with it," Auston stated, then looked at you. 
You just smiled, then shook your head. 
"I'd love to have you stay here with us for a while. I could never say no to getting to see my baby brother."
"Let's see how quickly that opinion changes when I do stay," Nate responded, making you all laugh. 
"How's that sound, mini?" Auston then asked Mia. "Uncle Nate is going to stay with us in a couple of weeks. Did you have fun with him, Pa and Alice this morning?"
"Yeah," Mia replied and leaned her head against her dad's shoulder. 
"And what did you all do?"
"Mommy said fuck," she blurted out, making you gasp this time as you looked at her with wide eyes. 
"Amelia!"
"Busted," Nate mumbled and gave you a look, to which you just scowled in return. 
"Did she?" Auston questioned your daughter, a playful grin tugging at his mouth as he did. "And did you tell mommy that's a bad word?"
"Mhm."
"And I thought we agreed you weren't going to rat me out, Mia," you said, then leaned over to tickle her a little bit. "But we don't say that word, ok? Even if mommy does. It's not nice."
"Ok, mama," she replied, then looked to Auston again. "Snacks, daddy?"
"Yes, of course," he told her, then rushed down the hallway towards the kitchen, making her start laughing like crazy again. You and Nate just gave each other knowing looks, smiling, then headed down the hall after them. 
~*~
The following days were the best days you’d had in almost a month. 
Everything between you and Auston was good, there were no further issues between the two of you and everything felt right once again. The best part too was that after one game in Buffalo two days after you and Auston had your talk, the Leafs were on bye week. So, Auston was going to be home during that entire week and then once the team started up again, there was a nice home game stretch. You were thrilled. 
Although the day after you stayed with your family, Nate flew back to Montreal while your dad and Alice went back to Vancouver, it definitely wasn’t as hard as a goodbye. Unfortunately, your dad and Alice weren’t able to get more time off work to come back to Toronto the following week for Mia’s birthday. But, Nate and Mya were going to be there and that was more than you could’ve asked for. Also, your dad and Alice made sure to spend a bit more time with Mia and gave her a little gift before they had to get to Pearson and fly home. 
On the Monday before Mia’s birthday, you were out with Mitchy picking up a few things in preparation for the little birthday party you and Auston were having for her that following weekend. It worked out nicely too because you didn’t have much work to do for your job that day and managed to finish it all before Mitch picked you up then the two of you embarked on your shopping trip together.. 
Mia’s actual birthday was on Thursday, which was going to consist of your little family just having a little chill day to yourselves before going to Mitch and Steph’s house for dinner because, as Mia’s godparents, the two of them insisted that there was no way they weren’t seeing their goddaughter on her birthday. But the party set to take place on Saturday was a completely different story. 
“So, you’re just not going to help me with figuring out what to get Mia?” Your cousin asked as the two of you sat down at a table to grab some lunch together before heading home. “Selfish.”
“Mitch, I don’t even know what to get her,” you replied. “Auston was the one that came up with her birthday gift this year. I’ll probably get her a toy of some sort just to toss in with it seeing as Auston picked out clothes and stuff. And besides, you don’t have to get her anything.”
He scoffed at your last comment.
“Did he show you what he picked out at least?”
“No! He hid everything from me so I wouldn’t give him shit about it.”
“Now why would you give him shit?” Mitch asked, laughing. 
“I think the fact that he dropped a Gucci bag while taking out the recycling this morning, then looked at me with wide eyes before booking it into the garage and avoiding the situation entirely, speaks enough for itself,” you responded, making your cousin laugh even harder. 
“Incredible.”
“Mia doesn’t need Gucci slides, Mitchell. She’s two.”
“Try telling that to your husband,” he replied with a shrug, making you roll your eyes. “And here I am wondering how the hell me and Steph are going to do better than last year's gift.”
“Is it wrong of me to guess that you won’t?” You questioned while looking at him with an expression that resembled the yikes emoji, earning yourself a look of disbelief from your cousin. 
“Y/N!”
“What? You know how much Mia loves that stuffed whale that you and Steph got her last year. It’s literally her comfort item. I genuinely don’t know how you expect to top that when even me and Auston can’t.”
“Ok, that’s fair. That makes me feel a bit better.”
“Drama queen,” you grumbled just as the waiter approached, thankful that their presence seemingly covered what you just said. 
You and Mitch were at one of your favourite restaurants in the city, so neither of you needed to look at the menu to know what you wanted seeing as it was the place you frequented the most together. So, after kindly greeting the waiter, who already recognized the two of you, and placed your orders, you both soon fell into comfortable silence and began doing your own thing while waiting. 
Almost instinctively, you messaged Auston to see what he and Mia were up to and how they were doing. He briefed you on how he took Mia downtown to the Distillery District with Frank and that they walked around for a bit before going on a little lunch date themselves before going back home to unwind a bit. You couldn’t help but smile at the image that entered your thoughts as you picture your little family on their day off, but were then interrupted by Mitch laughing out loud. 
“Sorry,” he mumbled after he noticed you jump at his sudden outburst. “Steph just sent me this tweet. Hold on, I’ll send it to you too.”
A moment later, your phone vibrated with a new notification and sure enough, it was a link to the tweet that Mitch was talking about. You clicked it couldn’t help but chuckle when Twitter opened and showed a meme talking about things only people who lived in Toronto would understand. After reading it, you shook your head then went to tap the little home button to see if there was anything new on your feed, but then you realized that you had a notification. 
It was weird though, because you hardly ever used Twitter. When you did, it was just to scroll through and get caught up on things you may have otherwise missed or to see something someone else sent you. However, for the past month you were more drawn to the app and you hated why. 
Since around Christmastime, literally the day after you fainted and learned that you had anemia, you’ve been the subject of an unnecessarily large amount of internet hate and you just couldn’t look away. 
This kind of thing wasn’t new. Ever since you first started dating Auston back at the beginning of 2017, there’d been a fair share of comments and speculations made by accounts with no name or picture that seemingly went out of their to talk shit about your relationship. Usually, you were unbothered by it all. Sure, some of the comments stung but you always reminded yourself that these people knew nothing about your life or your relationship. It was unfortunate there were people in the world that just had nothing better to do than have opinions about strangers and felt the need to bring them down because of it and so it was never something you tried to entertain. But, this time around, their words were really getting to you.
You knew you shouldn’t care, however,  you couldn’t help but wonder what the notification could be about, so, you clicked and saw that you had been mentioned in a tweet. Even more curious, seeing as you didn’t recognize the profile of the person who mentioned you, you then tapped on the tweet to see that it was actually someone defending you. 
And yet, you still felt your heart drop because that tweet was actually part of a whole thread going off about how rough you looked when you and Mitch were briefly seen at Costco about an hour prior while the two of you were there getting supplies for Mia’s party.
You suddenly became more self-conscious of the messy bun your hair was thrown up into on the top of your head. But it wasn’t just that either, it was your baggy grey hoodie that you didn’t even realize actually belonged to Auston until you were met by the familiar scent of his cologne once you put it on and your simple black tights seeing as you were beyond the point of trying to squeeze into jeans anymore with your growing baby bump, as well. The most impressive part of your outfit was how it seamlessly hid your stomach and that wasn’t even intentional. 
When you were getting ready that morning, you didn’t think you’d have to dress up to hangout with your cousin as the two of you did some running around then get lunch, now you were thinking you should have. But why? Why did these people seemingly care so much? But what you really didn’t get was why you once again, took what they were saying to heart. 
Mitch noticed the way your smile soon turned into a frown as you stared at your screen. He wasn’t going to say anything at first, but after a moment passed and he saw your eyes become glossy as you continued scrolling, there was no way he couldn’t.
“Y/N?” He asked, making you jump as you snapped your attention to him. “What’s bothering you?”
Honestly, if it was anyone but Mitch, you would’ve immediately gone into denial. But when it came to your cousin, someone who has been by your side literally your entire life and knew you better than a lot of people, it was impossible because he could just simply read through your lies. 
“It’s stupid, really,” you sighed. 
“If it’s making you upset, it isn’t stupid. Everything ok?”
You didn’t respond, instead you glanced down at your phone at the still-open Twitter thread then set the device down on the table and slid it towards your cousin. Mitchy looked at you skeptically, but then picked up your phone and started reading what was on the screen as well.
It didn’t take long for his eyebrows to furrow in disappointment as he scrolled and took even less time for that disappointment to turn into anger. 
“Mitchy-.”
“Who the hell do these people think they are?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered, shaking your head as you fought to keep the tears you already knew were welled up in your eyes from spilling over. “I try so hard not to pay attention to things like that Mitch, but they've been coming for my throat lately and having that on top of everything else I’m dealing with is just a lot.”
“Y/N, there’s a comment of someone saying apparently you looked worse today than when another person saw you last week when you were crying,” he explained, sounding confused but also pissed off. “How long has it been this bad?”
“About a month now. And yeah, I saw those comments as I was getting home from the appointment I had with my therapist last week. That’s why I was crying.”
“Excuse me? That’s what they’re referring to?” Mitch asked incredulously. “Oh, my god. Y/N, I’m so sorry, this is fucked up. I’m tempted to say something, I-. What does Auston think about it all?”
“No, don’t!” You stressed, knowing full well that he’d definitely make a comment in your defence if you didn’t stop him. “And, Auston doesn’t know.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t know? Has he not seen how upset this is making you?”
“No,” you replied before pausing. “I haven’t let him.”
Mitch’s expression softened at that, but he still looked at you with a stern gaze. 
“Y/N, you can’t keep blocking him out,” he stated. “I know the two of you talked the other day and things are good. You don’t have to deal with this alone. Auston will listen, you just have to give him the chance to.”
“I know,” you said, then sighed again. “Things have just been so good since we talked and that’s what I’ve been focusing on. I honestly forgot about the comments until I saw that I got mentioned in one of them. But you’re right, I don’t know why I just haven’t told Auston. I guess it does kind of indirectly involve him. I’ll tell him once I get home.”
“As you should. He’d probably find a classier way to shut that shit down than I would anyways.”
You laughed at that. 
“You’re not wrong. But thank you, Mitchy. You have no idea what it means to me knowing that I always have you looking out for me. And Steph. I’m very grateful for both of you.”
“Good, cause we’re not going anywhere,” he stated as a matter of factly, then glanced away as he noticed the waiter approaching again. “Also, I’ll be following up on whether or not you told Auston.”
“Yes, Mitchell. I’d expect nothing less.”
After you finished getting lunch with Mitchy, he drove you home, but didn’t leave without saying hi to Mia first seeing as she was already out with Auston when Mitch picked you up. He didn’t stay for too long though seeing as he knew he’d be seeing his goddaughter again in the upcoming days for her birthday. 
Once Mia was done saying bye to her Mitchy, Auston saw him to the door and locked it behind him while you took your daughter upstairs to put her down for her afternoon nap. You were pretty tired by then, thinking that taking your own nap would be nice too and as you snuck out of Mia’s room and gently closed the door behind you, only to meet Auston in the hallway as he came up the stairs, it seemed like he had the same idea too. 
A few minutes later, the two of you were laying in bed all curled up together. Auston had you wrapped in his arms; his left leg slung over both of yours, while you rested against his chest, letting yourself relax and your eyes gradually flutter shut with each breath he took. He let out a sigh of contentment, and that was when thoughts of your conversation with Mitch started creeping into your mind again. 
There was no point in telling Auston right at that moment about the Twitter trolls, you could easily just tell him later. But since you started thinking about it, you knew you wouldn’t stop until you talked with your husband, therefore, became less relaxed. 
“Something’s bothering you,” Auston spoke, surprising you and making you roll your eyes at how that man could read you like a freaking book.  
“It’s nothing to worry about right now,” you replied and snuggled closer to him. “I’ll tell you after we nap.”
“Babe, I know you. You’re not going to rest until you get whatever it is bothering you off your chest. You can tell me.”
At that, you sighed.
“You know me well, Matthews.”
“I’m assuming that’s part of why you agreed to marry me, isn’t it?” He teased as you shifted away from him so that the two of you could face each other, but not away from his embrace. 
“That, and your irritating charm,” you replied as a matter of factly, making him chuckle. You smiled too as he delicately reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then leaned against his touch as he let his hand linger there for a moment, studying you. 
“What’s going on in that mind of yours, bub?”
 “A lot of things,” you told him honestly. “Mainly good, but a couple not so good.”
He looked at you and nodded. 
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yeah, if that’s ok with you.” 
“Of course it is,” he responded. “You never have to ask, you know that. What’s bothering you?”
“Well,” you sighed. “It seems pretty pathetic the more I think of it.”
“It’s not pathetic if it’s getting to you this much. Clearly it’s something important.”
“I- I guess you’re right. But, I think it’ll be easier to show you instead of trying to explain it. Do you have your phone?”
“Yeah, it’s just over there,” he explained, then rolled over to grab the device from there it rested on his bedside table, then faced you again. “Do you need it?”
“No,” you replied, smiling at just how much this man made your heart swell so effortlessly. “But, I want you to go on Twitter for me, please. Then search my first and last name and see what comes up. But make sure it’s our last name.”
Auston looked at you curiously, but still nodded and did as you asked. You laid there and observed as he unlocked his phone, opened Twitter and assumingly typed in your name. As he scrolled, you witnessed his soft and relaxed expression turn hard while he read each and every comment made about you, his brows furrowing as he did so. 
“Babe?” You asked after a couple of minutes.
“Y/N, these things that people are saying about you are so unnecessary,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “And they’re recent. How long has this been happening?”
“It’s always been a thing, but over the last month it’s just gotten out of hand,” you explained, sniffling a bit as you tried to not get upset over this, but failed miserably. “Some of them are just so mean. I’ve never felt like I was being watched or anything, but now I feel like I’m under this microscope just so people can attack me and go off about how everything I do is wrong. Usually I just ignore it. I don’t know why any of these people think it’s ok to make comments like that on someone’s life without knowing anything about it, but it’s been happening more frequently and it’s hard to ignore, Aus.”
“I don’t even know what to say. They’re talking about you not being at games and making comments about how you look. These people have no clue what the hell you’re going through. This is insane. T-they haven’t made any mean comments about you being pregnant, have they?”
“No, babe. I haven’t seen any comments about that,” you told him, knowing he was already putting blame on himself, which you refused to let him do. “I don’t think anyone assumes that we’re expecting again. Probably because of how I haven’t been going out all that much lately unless it’s with Mia real quick or to an appointment. But, Auston, that’s beside the point. Can you look at me for a sec?”
His brown eyes immediately snapped to yours, moving from his phone screen for the first time since he began reading the tweets. He was frowning and you knew it was because this was beginning to bother him as much as it bothered you.
“This is not your fault.”
“Y/N, the reason people even feel the need to make comments like this about you, is because of me. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be getting attacked like this for literally no reason at all.”
“Do you not think I knew that when we started dating in the first place?” You challenged him. “That I didn't know people would constantly be criticising our relationship? I knew what I was getting myself into and if that was do or die for me, I wouldn’t be here with you right now. You are worth everything. And  besides, Auston, it's not you, it’s them. I didn’t tell you this to upset you. I’m just trying to be better with letting you know how I’m feeling and this is something that’s really been bugging me lately.”
At that, Auston’s hardened expression softened as he took in everything you said, then nodded.
“You’re right,” he spoke softly. “Thank you for not letting me get too in my head about it and for being so open with me, baby.”
“Of course,” you replied while smiling at him, then glanced down at his phone, which still had Twitter open. “I wish I could tell them to fuck off without causing a whole scene because of it.”
“I’ll say something.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Y/N-,” he started to argue, but you cut him off. 
“Please, Auston. Don’t,” you replied firmly. “You know as well as I do that if anyone was to react in my defence to this, especially you, it’d cause an uproar. It’d get way worse before it got better. Although I appreciate the thought and really don’t know how else I can make this better, I know that’s not the way to do it. And besides, I don’t think the Leafs PR would love you picking fights with random accounts on Twitter.”
“Fine,” he sighed, rolling his eyes slightly because he knew you were right. “Just know that if I can come up with a way to shut all of that down without directly telling those people to fuck off, I’m doing it.”
“I’d expect nothing less, and I wish you luck with trying to come up with a way to do that. But for now, I think I’ll just delete Twitter. That way I can just avoid it entirely. Thank you for listening to me vent about this, though.”
“I’m glad you did. And please try to not let what they’re saying get to you, Y/N. They’re not true. These people know nothing about you and if they did, they wouldn’t be able to say any of that because they’d know how amazing you are.”
“Thank you, Aus,” you replied, then leaned over to peck his lips before laying back down and cuddling close to him again. “I don’t know about you, but I definitely need a nap now.”
“You and me both,” he responded then laid down too, making sure to wrap his arms around you again. “Then when we wake up, we’ll get to see our little girl again too.”
~*~
Three days later was Mia’s birthday, which was pretty hard for you and Auston to accept, but you couldn't have asked for the day to turn out any better than it did. 
The morning started pretty simple. You woke up resting against Auston’s exposed upper body, shivering slightly at the cool air that filled the room, then spotted the pyjamas shorts that you never put on the night before partially hanging off the edge of the bed. It was easy to assume that the t-shirt you planned to wear as well must’ve fallen onto the floor during the activities you and your husband engaged in after taking a romantic and intimate bath together. However, you were unbothered by it all because you felt great. 
The sun peeked through the closed curtains, filling your bedroom with warm orange rays of light as the sun continued to rise outside, making you smile as you basked in the rays and at the thought of how it wouldn’t be too long until Mia was awake. Your two-year old. What a concept. 
Auston shifted next to you, making you wonder if he was still asleep or not. But when he gently stroked your arm as he moved his hand up to start playing with your hair, you got your answer. 
“Good morning,” you said, smiling as you moved away from him. You didn’t bother covering your chest either as you kissed his bicep then leaned onto your elbow so you could face him. However, instead of the seeing the usual smile Auston greeted you with most mornings, he was frowning. Which made you do the same. “You ok?”
“What makes you think I’m not ok?” He asked, curiously. 
“You’re moping.”
“I’m not!”
“Ok, if you’re not sulking then let’s go get Mia,” you prodded. “Our two-year old.”
“No, stop,” he whined dramatically and rolled away from you, not stopping until he was on his stomach but still turned his head back to face you. “I’m sensitive.”
“This is hitting you pretty hard, huh?”
“She’s two, babe! Time is moving way too quick. How can I not be upset over that?”
“And dramatic,” you pointed out, making him roll his eyes. 
“You’re acting pretty chill for someone who is the mother of said two year old and her soon to be little sibling,” he challenged, making you frown. 
“I know that, but you don’t gotta remind me.”
“You know I’m teasing,” Auston replied, then leaned over to place a soft peck on your bump before looking up at you. “Man, Mia is going to be the best big sister.”
“She really is,” you agreed while pushing your hand through your husband's hair. “I still don’t think she completely understands the concept of how there’s going to be a baby around all the time in a few months just yet, but she did point to my stomach the other day while we were taking a walk and asked if ‘her baby’ was warm.”
“And I missed it?” He asked while looking at you with a face that resembled the pleading emoji, a pout forming on his lips as you nodded. “What’d we do to deserve the sweetest little girl on the planet as our daughter?”
“I don’t know, but I’d say we’re pretty freaking lucky to have her. God, can you believe that she’s two already? Like that’s insane to me.”
“I don’t think I’ve fully processed it, yet. What do you mean she’s not going to be small forever?”
Both of you laughed after that, but it was really just a way to cover up the pain. However, before either of you could think about it for too much longer, you heard Mia shuffle through the monitor and listened as she said good morning to Frank, who decided to sleep in her room the night before.
“I guess that’s our cue,” you said to Auston, then leaned down to peck the side of his mouth before rolling away from him and getting out of the bed. Goosebumps raised on your skin as you wrapped a blanket around your body and made way to the ensuite, but had to pause when an all too familiar wave of lightheadedness crashed into you. 
“Babe?” Auston asked. Concern laced his voice as he sat up right away and watched you grip onto the duvet and slowly sit down on the ottoman that was positioned at the end of the bed, your eyes closed as you did so. He immediately stood up, keeping the bed sheet wrapped around his lower body as he went to where you were sitting, crouching down and taking your hand into his, noticing how cold you felt, before gently rubbing over your knuckles with his thumb. “Hey, I’m right here.”
“Thank you,” you responded after taking a few deep breaths, then slowly opened your eyes to meet his gaze again once you felt ok enough to do so. “I think I’m alright, must’ve just stood up too fast.”
A small sigh left his mouth as he continued looking at you with the same expression he looked at you with when you told him about the Twitter troll's other dau. As if he was trying to read your mind. 
“I worry about you,” he spoke quietly. You knew he didn’t mean it in a way to upset you and you didn’t take it that way either. Auston was letting himself be vulnerable while getting something off his chest, just like you had been doing a lot lately by working on not shutting him out. The least you could do was listen to him, and you wanted to. “So much. You have no idea how much harder it’s gotten to leave for away games with you constantly feeling like this.”
“It sucks,” you agreed with him. “But, it’ll all be worth it in the end, Aus, when our baby is here. We both just have to stick it out for a few months longer. It’s not going to be easy, but we can do it. I know we can.” 
You maintained eye contact with him as you spoke and were able to see the way his gaze softened as he hung onto every word you said. However, he didn’t respond. Instead, he nodded then pulled you into his embrace, which you gladly accepted.
“You are the strongest person I know,” Auston eventually said, making you laugh slightly, then him to move away so he could look at you again. “I mean it, babe. I swear, you’re like Superwoman. It doesn’t matter what shitty hand you’re dealt, you always see the best parts of it and power through. You’re incredible.”
“Well now you’re going to make me cry,” you replied, letting out another laugh in an attempt to cover the sob that was inevitably going to escape your mouth. When in actuality, tears were already streaming down your face and you were sniffling, but not in a bad way. “And here I was thinking my hormones weren’t going to be as bad as they were when I was pregnant with Mia.”
“Oh, and you claim I’m the one that’s going to be emotional today over it being Mia’s birthday.”
“You are and we both know it.”
“Touche,” he smiled as he squeezed your knee, then leaned in to peck your lips real quick. “Why don’t you wait here and I’ll go grab Mia? Then we can get ready and go downstairs for breakfast.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” you nodded, then watched him stand and leave the room as you began mentally preparing yourself for what the rest of the day would consist of. 
As soon as you and Auston wished Mia a happy birthday, she took the idea of being the centre of attention and ran with it. She absolutely loved and was thriving being the prime focus of everyone who FaceTimed her that morning to wish her well and would make sure to remind you and Auston that it was her special day constantly because of how hyped up she felt. 
A few snarky comments were made between you and Auston over who Mia got her ego from. However, it was still apparent that she got it from her dad, but Auston had to make sure the fact that she got her sass from you was still known. 
After breakfast the two of you gave Mia her gifts. As you suspected, Auston bought her unnecessary luxury items that no two year old in the world would ever need. But, you had to admit Mia looked pretty freaking cute strutting around in a tiny pair of custom Air Force Ones and a Prada bucket hat that matched ones Auston owned too. What you contributed to the gift was this little nurse kit you saw after getting lunch with Mitchy on Monday. It had little toy bandages, a stethoscope and a bunch of other items, along with a little bag to carry them all in. Seeing how Mia was always concerned and wanted to help when she thought one of the people she cared about was sad or hurt, the nurse kit seemed like a very fitting gift. And with the way Mia smiled like crazy once she saw it, then wanted to open the kit right away, you knew you made a good call. 
Once the initial birthday hype dwindled a little bit, a couple of hours later, you found yourself cuddling on the couch with Mia as the two of you watched Inside Out together. You had finished all the work you needed to do for the day and Mia was fading fast as she rested against your side, holding onto her stuffed whale with one arm and letting the other rest on your bump. Each time you glanced down at her, she continued fighting to keep her eyes open. However, once you started gently rubbing her head, seeing as you knew it was nap time, she was done for and soon passed right out.
Not too long after that, Auston returned home after running downtown real quick and thanks to the look you gave him once he walked through the door, knew he needed to be quiet. 
“That didn’t take long,” he spoke softly after he took off his coat and shoes, then came into the living room. He made sure to give you a quick kiss as he walked by, then curled up on the other end of the couch with Frank before looking back to you and smirking. “Did Mia think you weren’t feeling well?”
“Hmm?” You responded, confused by what would make him think that because in the moment, you felt fine.
“You have bandages on your face, bub.”
“Oh! Yeah, she thought I wasn’t feeling good and only agreed to lay down with me and watch the movie if she could make me feel better first. I just forgot that including sticking bandages on my face.”
Auston laughed as he watched you peel off the two bandages from Mia’s nurse kit that were stuck on your cheeks, then looked at you with a kind of serious gaze once your eyes met his again. 
“How are you feeling, though?”
“I’m alright,” you explained. “A little tired, but otherwise, both physically and mentally, I’m feeling pretty good right now. This little girl has been playing a big part in that, for sure.”
“I’m glad,” Auston replied with a smile then stood up again. “You rest. As soon as Mia is awake again, she’ll be wondering when we’re going over to Mitch and Steph’s so you might miss your window of opportunity. I’m going to get a drink, though. Would you like anything?”
“I’d love some water. Thanks, baby.”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.”
You smiled as you watched him leave the room, then let your head fall back against the pillow and took a breath. Mia shifted beside you, but only to snuggle closer to you, which made you smile even wider as softly ran your hand through her curls. Then your gaze fell to your phone, which was resting on the cushion next to you, as it lit up with a notification. 
It was an Instagram notification. After the talk you had with Auston about the unnecessary hate you were getting, primarily on Twitter seeing as that was the only social media account you didn’t have set as private, and how it was affecting your mental health; you deleted the app entirely. Which, in complete honesty, did give you a peace of mind because it was all just easier to ignore that way. Although part of you wished you were gutsy enough to shut down the people who were attacking you, and were well aware of how the people who cared about you had no issue in saying something, ignoring it seemed like the easiest thing to do. 
It was nice seeing a social media notification and not getting anxious because of it, so without thinking too much about it, you unlocked your phone to see what was going on, on Instagram. 
The notification was about something the Maple Leafs account had posted, which instantly piqued your interest because you knew the post would have something to do with either your husband, cousin, or just one of the guys. You knew they weren’t playing that night, they were still on bye week, which made you wonder what the post could be about even more. So, without wasting any more time, you clicked the notification and were brought to the post. 
Much to your surprise, there wasn’t even a proper caption on the post. Instead, it was just a link to donate and a hashtag that said #BellLetsTalk. 
Bell Let’s Talk was something you were very familiar with. It was an annual event hosted by Bell, a major telecommunications company in Canada that was an awareness campaign to help bring attention to and support mental health initiatives across the country, as well as try to end the negative stigma that tends to surround mental health struggles. Although you believed that there should be events similar to this one for every day of the year as opposed to one, you still took part because regardless, it was still for a good cause.
During the event, which lasts 24 hours, Bell donates five cents for every call and text their customers send that day. The same thing goes for every Tweet that is shared using the Bell Let’s Talk hashtag and each time their promotional videos are shared and viewed, as well as a number of other ways for people to take part on all social media platforms.
It was a campaign you supported greatly with how close it hit to home. Having faced mental health struggles for much of your life and knowing how it truly was something that affected everyone in some way, you took part in Bell Let’s Talk and donated to the cause every year. However, up until that moment, you weren’t even aware of how that day was the day of the campaign. 
Your immediate thought was to go to Bell’s website so you could donate, but before you could do that, you noticed that what the Leafs posted was a video when JT’s face appeared on your screen. The video was muted, but you were quick in turning your volume up so you could hear what he was saying. 
“Today is Bell Let’s Talk Day,” he spoke calmly, before it cut to a clip of Mitchy. 
“Mental health is something that affects us all,” your cousin said. “Whether it be something you personally face, or maybe a loved one, it’s important to bring light to these struggles and help end the stigma that surrounds them.”
“People face internal battles that you know nothing about,” Auston’s voice started, then showed him wearing the exact same black hoodie and cream coloured beanie he’d been wearing all day. “There’s no way of knowing what someone may be going through regardless of what is seen on the outside and it’s up to us to be respectful of that. Kindness goes a lot further than unnecessary hate.”
“It’s ok to not be ok,” Mo spoke next. “Ways you can help end the stigma is by clicking the link below. If you’re unable to donate, a simple tweet using the Bell Let’s Talk hashtag, Snapchat filter, or view on Bell’s video will get five cents donated towards mental health initiatives across Canada. Help be the change.”
The video went dark, and you could feel the tears welled in your eyes as you closed out of the app then looked up at Auston as he entered the room again, chuckling slightly at the way the smile that was on his face dropped once he saw you. 
“Are you ok? Did something happen?” He asked, concerned.
“No,” you told him, smiling as you shook your head, but still being careful not to disturb Mia. “I’m fine, babe. I did just see the Bell Let’s Talk video the Leafs posted, though.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s what I had to run downtown for. Did I forget to tell you?”
“You didn’t forget. You’re not that smooth, Matthews.”
“Ok, ya got me there,” he replied, letting out a small laugh as he walked towards you, then crouched down so he’d be eye level with you. “I know how important this campaign is to you and with how you’ve been getting attacked even while dealing with your own shit so much lately, I figured this would be a good way for me to subtly address that issue as well as support a great cause.”
At that, you closed your eyes and shook your head again. 
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you told him honestly, and didn’t miss the small grin that tugged at his lips once you opened your eyes again. “I mean it. Thank you, Auston. Thank you for caring and never making me feel like what goes on in my mind is a burden.”
“You’re never a burden to me, Y/N. Please don’t ever forget that.”
“I’ll try not to, I promise.”
“Good,” he responded, then leaned forward to meet your mouth in a sweet kiss. You smiled against his lips, then used your free arm that wasn’t wrapped around Mia to pull him closer. After a moment, the two of you broke away from each other, but Auston stayed where he was and leaned his forehead against yours and smirked. “Did you donate?”
“Not yet,” you told him, grinning because you knew where he was going with this. “I’m not telling you how much I’m donating either because I know you’ll try to one-up me like you do every year.”
“Just trying to support a good cause,” he shrugged, then winked at you. “Proud of you though for continuously supporting something you believe in though, babe. It’s kind of hot, I must say.”
You rolled your eyes. 
“Leave it to you to turn a serious talk into flirting.”
“Why are you acting surprised?”
“Oh, I’m not,” you stated. “I expect it at this point.”
“As you should,” Auston said then pecked your lips once more before standing up again. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to squeeze in a nap before that one wakes up again.”
“Well come on then,” you replied and scooted a little closer to Mia. The couch cushions were obnoxiously wide and Auston could easily fit where you and Mia were laying. The three of you had cuddled in that same position many times before and by the way Auston stayed smiling as you said that, you knew he wasn’t opposed to the idea either. 
“Well, if you insist,” he responded, then waited as you shifted onto your side so that you’d be facing Mia and Auston crawled into the space behind you, wasting no time in getting into a big spoon position as he held you close and you both eventually fell asleep too. 
~*~
The rest of Mia's birthday consisted of going over to Mitch and Steph's for dinner and not much else, but the birthday festivities didn't end there. Two days later was Mia's birthday party with all the friends and family that could make it, and you were pretty damn excited.
The day after Mia's birthday, Nate and Mya arrived. Mya stayed for the weekend and would be flying back to Vancouver on Sunday evening, the day after Mia's party. However, Nate came packed with a giant suitcase and a gym bag full of belongings seeing as he was going to be staying at your house for the foreseeable future. It wasn't really discussed just how long Nate would be staying, but you didn't feel like you needed to. You were happy to welcome your brother into your home for however long and could tell that Auston and Mia didn't hate the idea either. 
Nate made the five and a half-hour drive from Montreal to Toronto, getting to your house around noon, then crashed in one of the guest room he was claiming as his own for the duration of his stay. A couple of hours later, after he woke back up, the two of you took his car to Pearson so you could pick up Mya, then went back home to spend the rest of the evening hanging out. 
Mia refused to leave her aunt and uncle's side until she had to go to bed; she was just so happy to have them around again. Nate and Mya ended up being the ones to put her to bed that night before joining you and Auston back downstairs to watch a movie before you all soon went to bed as well. 
The next morning, you were up early so you could start making breakfast for everyone and get all the last minute things organized for Mia's party. Normally you'd spend some of your weekends doing freelance writing and editing, seeing as the rest of the week was consumed by your PR job, which luckily you were able to work from home doing both. But this weekend, you took off entirely and left open, so you could spend time with your loved ones and, of course,  celebrate your daughter all over again. 
Not long after you first got downstairs, Auston soon entered the kitchen carrying a still sleepy-looking Mia as she leaned against his shoulder and tiredly knuckled at her eyes. 
"Morning, mommy," she greeted, her voice a little scratchy once she and Auston were beside you, then leaned away from her dad so she could hug you. 
You were at the end of being 20 weeks pregnant, and your bump was enough proof of that. Every day you were convinced that your stomach got larger, but more importantly, you just couldn't believe that you were already halfway to meeting your new baby, and you were so excited. 
Mia became accustomed to resting against your bump whenever you held her. She claimed that 'her' baby was in there and would talk to your stomach from time to time as well. She was taking the idea of you being pregnant really well, even though she didn't fully understand it, but you couldn't be happier about it. 
"Good morning, sweet girl," you replied, then took her from Auston and held her on your side. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah," she told you, then leaned against your shoulder just like she had with Auston. "Breakfast?"
"Yes, I'm making pancakes. Your favourite. Did you brush your teeth with daddy?"
"Yup!"
"Good job, baby," you responded, then placed a series of kisses on her cheek, earning yourself a series of giggles as she squirmed in your hold. Once she stopped moving around, you gave her a little squeeze and looked at your husband, who was looking towards you and Mia but seemed to be a little zoned out, then smiled. "Aus?"
"Hmm?" Auston asked and shook his head slightly before looking towards you.
"You seem in deep thought."
"Oh, uh, just thinking about everything, I guess. Mainly about how much I love my two girls, though."
You gave him a look in response, but he just smiled then engulfed both you and Mia in a bear hug. 
"Daddy!" Mia groaned and pushed him away, but she was trying to get a reaction from him with the way she was smiling at him.
"Mia! I'm hurt," he gasped as he moved away from the two of you and held a hand over his heart in fake pain. 
"What a drama queen," you whispered to Mia, making her giggle again. However, before she could respond, a genuine gasp left her mouth, which had both you and Auston on high alert. 
"Mama," she whined as she clung onto you but began squirming in your hold, moving her leg away from where it was resting against your stomach. "I don't like that."
She then looked down at your bump, which you had to admit, felt a little weird for some reason and then it all clicked. What you and Mia were feeling was your baby moving for the first time. 
"Oh, Mia," you started with a small laugh, then glanced towards Auston, who looked very confused. "That's the baby moving around."
"Wait, are you serious?" Auston asked, then moved towards you and went to place his hand on your stomach, his face lighting right up when he felt the movements too. "They're moving."
"They're moving," you repeated, then let out a small sob once Auston looked at you again. It simply wasn't possible for you not to cry during that moment, but at least they were happy tears. Your baby moving was the reminder you needed to know that every hill you've had to climb and will continue to during this pregnancy will be so worth it in the end. 
Auston then had you engulfed in another hug and kissed you sweetly before anything else can be said. However, it wasn't long until the moment was ruined by your two-year old. 
"Baby, stop!" Mia exclaimed, then reached for Auston again so she wouldn't have to feel the baby any longer. 
"Do you not want to feel your baby, mini?" Auston asked as he took Mia and tried not to laugh. 
"No," she replied grumpily, then hid her face against his chest, making both you and him unable to contain your laughter anymore. 
"What's going on?" Mya's voice spoke, causing you to glance towards the doorway into the kitchen just as she walked in.
"Tee!" Mia said excitedly, then reached towards your sister. Auston set her down, and she sped right over to Mya, who wasted no time in scooping her up and holding her close.
"Hi, bestie!" Mya replied, then hugged her niece before looking at you and Auston. "Mmm, it smells good in here. What're you making?"
"We've got some pancakes, sausage, bacon, fruit and toast right now," you told her, then glanced towards Auston. "If you guys want eggs, by all means, but I cannot do the smell of them right now."
"That's fine. I can make some if you want to go get dressed," Auston suggested and leaned down to peck your lips again. "That way, you won't have to smell them."
"Deal."
"Mia, wanna go wake up your Uncle Nate?" Mya asked. 
"Yeah!" Mia replied, smiling widely as Mya carried her out of the room. 
You then looked at Auston, who was smirking at you before shaking your head again and heading upstairs with Frank to get changed into the outfit you planned on wearing that day. 
About 45 minutes later, you were changed, had eaten breakfast with your family and were now getting everything organized before everyone began arriving at your house for the party. Once you were all done eating and everyone helped clean up, Nate and Mya started getting dressed to go outside. 
"You guys going somewhere?" You asked the two of them as you stepped into the foyer from the living room. 
"Uh, yeah, we just have to go pick something up real quick," Nate explained, awkwardly glancing towards Mya as if silently asking for help as he did so. 
"Ok, weirdos. Everyone's going to start getting here around 4."
"We'll be back in like an hour," Mya stated, then glared at Nate, making it known that the two of them were up to something.
"Y'all are shady," you teased. "Where are you even going?"
"Hey, Mia, want to come with us?" Nate asked, then tried to glance around you to see where Mia was in the living room still with Auston—smoothly changing the subject.  
"Ok!" Your daughter replied, then came running into the foyer and over to her aunt and uncle. 
"You can't just take my kid," you scoffed. 
"We'll be right back," Mya said again, then started helping Mia put on her coat and boots. "She'll be fine."
"Babe, they're right," Auston spoke up as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. "She'll be fine with them. You know that."
"Fine," you grumbled and leaned back against Auston. "But not for too long. Mia's going to need a nap still before people start getting here. Also, just take my car, so you don't have to move her car seat."
"Sounds good," Nate responded as he opened the front door, then held his hand out for Mia to take, and the two of them walked out of the house together. 
"See ya!" Mya said, then went outside after the other two and closed the door behind her, leaving you and Auston alone in the house with Frank.
"They're up to something," you told Auston, then turned around in his hold so you could face each other. 
"When aren't they?" Auston chuckled. "I swear those two are always plotting."
"You've got a point."
He smiled at that, which soon turned into a smirk. 
"I didn't get the chance to say how good you look, baby."
"Oh," you replied softly, then glanced down at your outfit. You weren't wearing anything spectacular for the party, just a pair of ripped maternity jeans that fit you really well and a black off the shoulder long-sleeved shirt that admittedly did make your boobs look good. The outfit was accessorized with a gold necklace with a little circular disc that had an Aquarius symbol on it, Mia's zodiac sign that Steph gifted you on your birthday the year Mia was born, along with a bracelet Auston got you as a wedding gift. Your hair was in simple waves, but it seemed so soft and was glowing, which tied everything together. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that he was right. You did look good. 
Auston told you that you were beautiful every day, but this was the first day in a while that you actually felt that way. Every one who would be at Mia's party knew you were pregnant, so you didn't feel the need to hide it. Sure, you knew you didn't have to hide your pregnancy regardless, but with your loved ones, you felt comfortable enough to let your pregnancy glow really show. 
You then moved your gaze back to Auston and smiled. 
"Thank you, babe," you told him and welcomed the way his hands lingered on your waist as he pulled you closer. 
"Do you think we have time to go upstairs and, well, you know," he suggested as he looked down at you with heavy eyes full of lust. 
You bit down on your bottom lip, pondering what he was proposing for a moment, then grinned and took his hand to lead him up to your bedroom. 
"Yes, but let's make it quick."
About an hour later, after you and Auston were done with your activities upstairs, the two of you went back down to the living room and cuddled on the couch with Frank as you both waited for Nate, Mya and Mia to return home.
Not too long after that, you heard a car pull into the driveway and knew they were back. You and Auston didn't move from your spot until the front door opened. Mia's giggles filled the house, which instantly made you smile as you shifted out of Auston's hold and got up from the couch, but your mouth soon dropped open when you turned around to look into the foyer and saw a familiar blonde standing there holding your daughter. 
"Lexie?" You asked and covered your mouth as tears began pricking at your eyes as you rushed around the couch so you could greet your best friend. 
Lexie was your oldest friend. The two of you met when her family moved into a house down the street when you were both eight years old and have been inseparable ever since. She had been by your side for as long as you could remember and never strayed away. Lexie played a major role in helping you cope with your mom's death when you were 13. She was with you through the shitshow that your life felt like after you found out your ex-boyfriend, Chris, who you had been with since you were 16, was cheating on you and broke up with him five months before you met Auston and stuck around for everything in between. Nate and Mya called her their sister, and Mitch called her his honorary twin. That's how close the two of you were. 
She was also your roommate all through university, saw your relationship with Auston form and was just someone you've confided in for most of your life. Almost 20 years after the two of you first met, you were both still so incredibly close. Even though she moved to the States after you both graduated, that did nothing to strain your friendship. She was a bridesmaid in your wedding, a prominent figure in Mia's life regardless of the distance and just truly one of the best friends you've ever had. 
You and Lexie would talk at least once a week, and during your conversation the weekend prior, she apologized for not being able to come back to Toronto for Mia's birthday. It was apparent that she felt terrible, and sure, you were bummed you wouldn't be able to see your best friend, but you weren't upset. You understood that she couldn't make it, but now she was standing in your foyer, and you didn't know how to act. 
"What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" Lexie scoffed and winked at you as she gave Mia a little squeeze. "Couldn't miss this little girl's second birthday, now could I?"
"Lexie, mama!" Mia said excitedly and couldn't stop smiling, making you feel like your heart could burst. 
Nate and Mya then peaked their heads in through the door, smiling widely. 
"Surprise!" They said in unison before coming into the house carrying bags. You then heard more doors close outside and felt confused once again. 
"I hope you don't mind, but why we really needed your car was because we needed it to pick up some other people from the airport too," Nate explained, then nodded towards the doorway just as Ema walked through the door with the rest of Auston's family not too far behind. 
You were full-on sobbing by that point and were quick in turning to hide against Auston's chest so no one would have to see your ugly cry as Auston laughed and wrapped his arms around you. 
"I'm surprised you all were able to pull it off," he said, then kissed the top of your head. 
"Wait, you were in on this?" You scolded as you moved away to look up at him, but as he grinned at you, you couldn't even pretend to be mad, then hugged him again. "Thank you, Auston."
After that, you pulled away from your husband to hug Lexie and Auston's family before everyone got settled in. 
When you and Auston first moved into your home in Toronto, it always felt big, but that was exactly what you wanted. Although there was one less bedroom now that the one across the hall from Mia's room was being transformed into a nursery, there was still enough room for everyone. Nate claimed one of the guest bedrooms on the main floor to sleep in for the duration of his stay at your house, then Mya and Lexie took the other main floor bedroom, which they would share for the next couple of days until they both had to leave. Auston's family took the basement, which was finished with two bedrooms, a washroom and a pullout couch in the living area. 
It was a full house but in the best way possible and only got better when everyone started arriving for Mia's party. 
Mitch and Steph arrived first, naturally, and you were quick in finding out that they too were in on Lexie, surprising you. Mitchy then immediately scooped up Mia as she came running into the foyer to greet him and Steph. He made his way down the hall towards the kitchen with her to say hi to everyone, leaving you and Steph to give each other a knowing look on how it'd be a while before anyone else got the chance to hang out with the birthday girl. 
Mitch's parents and brother Chris arrived not too long after, so did some friends and guys from the team along with their significant others and kids. Then the party really began. 
Mia loved having so many people she knew and loved around and had no issue being the centre of attention either. Once Mitch finally set her down again, she immediately went over to Freddie, Will and Mo, three of her favourite guys, and just sat on Fred's lap, completely content as he continued the conversation he was having. 
 An hour or so went by, and Mia was still living her best life. You and Auston knew that she would go to sleep smoothly that night because of how exhausted she'd be, but she was having so much fun, so it was definitely worth it. 
After everyone had something to eat and those who weren't driving grabbed another drink, you all gathered in the living room and dining room so Mia could open the excessive amount of gifts she had waiting for her. She got equipped, putting on her Prada bucket hat as she sat on Alex's lap then dug right in. 
Spoiled was an easy way of putting it when it came to the things Mia received for her birthday, but even then, she didn't let it get to her head. After every gift she opened, Alex would tell her who it was from, and Mia would climb off her lap, go over to whoever the present was from to hug them and say thank you before going back to her aunt and opening the next thing. 
You and Auston stood in the doorway, watching it all unfold. He stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your front again as you leaned back against him, his head gently resting on top of yours. You were pretty sure you saw Steph taking a picture of the two of you out of the corner of your eye, but you brushed it off as you shifted and placed a soft peck to Auston's bicep. 
"I still can't believe she's two," Auston said, thinking his voice was only loud enough for you to hear but was greatly mistaken. 
"Great, here we go," Lexie started from where she stood a few feet away, then looked over to where Mitch, Steph, Nate and Mya were all standing and held up her half-empty wine glass. "Drink."
They all took a drink, and that's when you noticed that many others in the room did too. 
"Hey," Auston whined as he looked around at everyone. "What's going on?"
"We all made a drinking game," Will spoke up. "Whenever you get sulky about Mia being a year older, we have to drink."
"I'm allowed to be, ok!" Auston defended, meanwhile you were trying not to cry laugh. 
"That's another drink," Mitchy stated, then cheered his drink with Mo before they all took a sip again. 
Auston looked so offended, which only made it better as everyone started laughing. 
"Babe, do you see what they're doing to us?" He asked and looked down at you. 
"This isn't about Y/N. This is about you," Bre told him. 
"Yeah, we only drink when it's you getting emotional," Steph elaborated. "Y/N is pregnant. She gets a free pass."
"Well, I'll just keep my mouth shut then, I guess," Auston grumbled, then went back to leaning against you and lowered his voice. "Even though she's going to be my mini forever."
"Drink!"
~*~
Almost a week later, you found yourself laying on the bed in the same building your doctor was in, about to get an ultrasound so you could see how your baby was doing and find out their gender. 
It was just a regular Friday afternoon, and you hadn't done a whole lot that morning, but you were exhausted. You had trouble falling asleep the night before because you got so nervous. Although you were just having a regular checkup with your doctor then getting the ultrasound done, you couldn't help but feel anxious because you kept worrying you were going be told something you didn't want to hear yet again when it came to you and your baby. 
You were scared, to put it simply. But luckily for you, Auston was there. 
Bye week had come to an end, and Auston was back playing games again, but they were at home. After the game he was to play the following day, the Leafs would be on the road again. But you got almost two full weeks of your husband being at home the entire time, so you weren't going to be greedy about it either. 
Auston had a practice that morning, so the plan was for him to meet you downtown for your appointments after. Your first appointment wasn't until 2pm, so as you waited until then, you, Mia, Nate, Steph and Lexie all got lunch downtown with Auston's family. Auston's family was flying back to Arizona that weekend, so it was just them and Nate in the house still, but you loved it. 
Ema, Alex and Bre all joined you for a few trips to various stores as you slowly continued getting things ready for your baby's nursery, and you spent a lot of nights in the kitchen having talks with Brian about everything going on in life. You adored Auston's family, that was a known thing, and you couldn't even begin to explain how much it meant to have them around and as involved as they were.
The same went for Nate and Lexie. He'd only been staying at your house for a week, but Nate had been so helpful around the house without you even having to ask. He just did his own thing but was also there helping with chores, keeping Mia occupied while you did work and taking Frank for walks whenever he felt like stepping out of the house for a bit. Lexie only stayed at your house for a couple of nights before visiting with friends and family she hadn't seen since the last time she was in Toronto. You still saw her almost every day, though. There was even a day where you and Mia joined her in driving a couple of hours out of the city to visit her parents, who you hadn't seen in a long time. But were always like second parents to you. 
Lexie would be staying in the city for at least another week, which was terrific. You had so many people that you cared about around again, which was amazing. You still had your usual Toronto fam, too, with Mitchy, Steph and some of the other guys on the team along with their wives and girlfriends. You still got to see a lot even without going to as many games as you usually would if you felt better physically. 
You woke up that morning feeling a little lightheaded and nauseous, which you immediately assumed was because of your anemia, but you knew it was also because of your nerves. However, as the day progressed and you spent time with your loved ones, you gradually felt better about your upcoming appointments. Then when you met up with Auston after lunch, those worries went away even more. 
Just having him near did wonders for your nerves seeing as he and Mia were two of your constant reminders that everything would be alright. 
The appointment with your doctor went much better than you were expecting. She could tell you were nervous but had nothing bad to share, which made you feel like an invisible weight had been lifted from your chest. Your baby was healthy, and so were you, which is all you wanted to hear before going down a couple of floors to where you'd be getting your ultrasound done. 
Mia was so good during it all too, and Auston was a big reason for that. She was just naturally more comfortable in any setting whenever he was around. Although she wasn't a fan of all the weird-looking machines in the ultrasound room, Auston kept her calm as the two of them chatted from where they sat on the other side of the room.
"Mia, what is with you and touching my moustache today?" Auston asked, making you laugh as you turned your head towards them and continued waiting for the doctor to come in. He had a point, though. Mia had been oddly fascinated by his moustache that day and just wouldn't stop poking it. Just after he said that she touched it again. "Mini!"
"Caterpillar, daddy," she replied casually, making Auston's mouth fall open in disbelief, and you gasp as you tried to contain your laughter. 
"Excuse me, did you just say my moustache looked like a caterpillar?"
"Yup," she confirmed, earning a scoff from her father. "Not pretty, though."
"I, I don't even know what to say to that," he responded, feeling speechless as he looked towards you for help.
"Don't look at me," you chuckled. "I haven't been telling her that, but I think I know who has."
"Hmm, looks like someone has been spending too much time with her uncle," Auston said, knowing what you were implying as he looked back to Mia. "The next time Uncle Nate says that mini, you tell him that at least your daddy can grow a moustache, unlike him."
"Oh, my God," you groaned, still smiling but soon had to recollect yourself as the doctor came in and did your ultrasound. 
The ultrasound also went really well. It didn't take too long. The doctor was great and even let Mia come over to stand next to the bed and hold your hand as it all happened. Then you, her and Auston were able to go back home together, having further confirmation that your baby was doing ok and their gender. 
You were thrilled. Both you and Auston cried a little bit after finding out and couldn't stop smiling as you explained what it all meant to Mia. 
Once the three of you got home, you all went upstairs to your bedroom and decided to lay down together. No one else was home, everyone was out still, and you knew they wouldn't be back until closer to dinnertime, which gave the perfect opportunity for a little family nap. 
After you changed into some comfy clothes, you and Mia got all snuggled in bed together as Frank curled up at the end of it, and Auston went into the ensuite to take a quick shower. Mia was fading fast as she cuddled you, resting against your bump and fighting to keep her eyes open as you mindlessly played with her curls. 
A few minutes later, Auston emerged from the ensuite, but Mia was already asleep. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of his two girls and wasted no time walking over to the bed. You went to shift to look at him better, but he quickly stopped you.
"Wait, no, can you stay like that for a sec?"
"Oh," you replied, confused, but still did as he asked. 
Auston then grabbed his phone and held it above where you and Mia were lying so he could snap a picture of the two of you. You chuckled and immediately looked down towards Mia so that your face would be covered by your hair a little bit. Once he was done taking the picture, he sat down and looked towards you again. 
"She's really going to be a big sister soon," he said disbelievingly and shook his head. "Like we've known for months now, but I just still can't wrap my head around it."
"Me neither," you told him and smiled softly. "Everything is going to be so different, but in the best possible way. Hell, even this pregnancy has been different. I'm not even referring to what I've been going through, either. This has really been able to stay our little secret aside from our loved ones, and that just feels good. We're going to be the ones to share our news, not anyone else."
"Exactly. Speaking of that, I think I have an idea for how we can share our news before we lose our chance to do so."
"It's overly dramatic, isn't it?"
"A little bit," he admitted. "But in a good way. Might end up breaking the internet a little bit, though."
"Auston," you started, feeling a little unsure. 
"Only if you're ok with it, of course. We don't have to."
After he explained his idea, you shook your head at how wild it was. 
"Babe, that'll literally be how our friends and family find out what we're having too. You know that, right?"
"I do," Auston nodded. "Which makes me want to do it a bit more. I'm feeling kind of chaotic."
"I can tell," you responded as he crawled under the blankets on the other side of Mia, then looked back to you. "But, if that's what you want to do, then sure. I'm just glad it's on our terms."
"Me too, just get ready for all the calls and texts from everyone."
"Oh, I'm ready."
The two of you fell silent as Auston went on his phone, then a couple of moments later, your phone lit up with a notification saying that you'd been tagged in a picture on Instagram. Although you already knew what it was, you still gave Auston a look, then unlocked your phone to see what the picture was of and felt speechless as you took it in. 
The photo was the one he'd just taken about ten minutes prior, and it was beautiful. Your baby blue sweater stuck out against the white bedding you laid on and looked aesthetically pleasing with the way it matched the tiny elastic that was holding Mia's hair away from her face as she slept. Mia's face was only partially visible as she laid next to you with her arm draped over your bump. Your face was in it more than Mia's was, which you preferred, and you were looking down at Mia with a huge smile, and even you had to admit, it was a lovely picture. Auston sure was getting better with using portrait mode.
However, this picture wasn't just announcing your pregnancy to the world. It also revealed something else that Auston typed out as the photo's caption. 
Baby boy Matthews, coming soon. See you in June, little man. 💙
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obsidiangst · 3 years ago
Note
42! ‘Does this mean what I think it means?’ 🤩
CONGRATS AND GO GO GO 😎🕺🏼
42: “Does this mean what I think it means?”
Zelda sat back in the computer chair and stared at the countdown on the large holographic screen in front of the giant blue Sheikah Reactor. it continued to tick away at the time left before Hyrule would forever be changed. Fifteen minutes.
“Why’d you stop?” Link asked. She could hear the worry in his voice and she shook her head slowly, mouth hung open slightly.
The Sheikah Reactor had changed the face of Hyrule for the better. It was a source of constant energy. A mix of old magic and the most sophisticated technology the Sheikah had ever created. Half the world’s power grid, not just Hyrule’s, ran off of it. All the production factories, the buildings, the homes, and more were powered by this reactor and… In less than fifteen minutes it was going to overheat, have a meltdown, and then explode, releasing more energy than the half of the world it powered could use in 1000 years in a split moment.
“I can’t stop it. There’s thousands of computers attached to this code, reinforcing it and keeping it from being changed, I’d have to hack into every one of them at the same time or- Or find the host computer and-... and-” Zelda looked at the countdown. Just over 14 minutes.
“That’s… There’s not enough time for that.” Link looked around the room at the dozens of computers just in the control center and then out at the city surrounding it. They’d done the math and there were around 3,000 computers across the country were infected with the virus. Everything was quiet outside since the evacuations had started days ago. “Does that mean..?”
“There’s… There’s no stopping this.” Zelda said, feeling a heavy weight settle in her stomach as she realized what that meant. They- No. She had failed. Miserably.
“We can leave. We have the Slate and the blueprints and the important records, we can just warp out of range, we���ll be okay.” Link said and Zelda looked back at him again. 12 minutes.
“So we can be two of the few who survive? How fair is that when we’re the ones who were supposed to stop this from happening?” Zelda asked quietly and Link frowned.
“We’d be here to help put the pieces together.” Zelda looked back at the timer. Just under 11 minutes. Why was she still sitting? Why wasn’t she still trying? Anything? Maybe she could at least delay the inevitable detonation of the Ancient Reactor, but-
“Will they need us to put the pieces together?” Zelda asked, still staring at the countdown. Ten minutes remained until a significant portion of Hyrule would be levelled to the ground. Zelda knew in her head it wasn’t their fault. Whomever had written that virus was beyond evil and beyond intelligent too. They were the real one responsible for this.
“They might not need me, but they’ll need you.” Link said, going to Zelda and pulling her out of the chair and to his chest. Zelda couldn’t take her eyes off the countdown as Link programmed the Sheikah Slate to fast travel them away. Hopefully the evacuations had gotten as many people as they could away from the capitol before-
Suddenly, they were gone and at a cliffside overlooking the vastness of Hyrule Field. Castle Town and the accompanying capitol buildings were just a speck in the distance now. They should be safe from the majority of the blast impact here. Zelda gripped Link’s arm that was still around her as her knees went weak underneath her. Everything they knew was going to change because of this. All of their precautions and cyber security measures had failed and they could only watch as everything they knew was destroyed before their very eyes. There wouldn’t even be rubble with how much energy would come out of the reactor.
Zelda dug her nails into Link’s arm around her, chest heaving as the guilt began to morph into anger and upset. She grit her teeth, biting back a sob, instead choosing to scream. She let out the anger she felt towards the faceless writer of the virus and the pain knowing that her father was sitting even now in the Capitol building waiting to die with the city and the unevacuated people he was responsible for. Link held onto her as her screams faded into angry sobs.
When the blue explosion lit up the sky, Zelda let out a wail and buried her face into Link’s chest so she didn’t have to watch. Link pressed his face into her hair and squeezed his eyes shut. It took several moments for the sound of the explosion to over take them and even as far away as they were it was loud enough to deafen them momentarily.
The fields would burn blue for days and the residual glow of the Sheikah Reactor’s energy would illuminate the field for months to come while Hyrule would struggle to put the pieces back together.
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10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat · 4 years ago
Text
Selfies, Tea, and Photography
AO3
Pairing: Commander Fox x GN!Reader Pen Pal Fic
Premise: based off this post I made a while back where I mused on the concept of a clone/reader insert pen pal fic. Starting off with Fox based on a suggestion by @istanmyman
Word count: ~3.9k 
Rating: G
Other notes: Gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, apparently I can only write Thorn as Fox’s best bro and nosy wingman 
--
When you heard the news that the Grand Army of the Republic was starting up a correspondence program for troopers and civilians to connect and communicate, you immediately signed up for it. Not that your friends and family weren’t enough for you, it was just that you itched to learn more about the galaxy and what it was like to live and travel among the stars. Enrolling in the program was the closest you were going to get until you were able to travel yourself.
(That, and you were curious to learn more about the clones who were fighting for the Republic.)
Around a month after signing up for the program, you learned you were matched with CC-1010, also known as “Fox.” A few days after learning about your match, you received your first message from him.
Hello,
I am Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard. I am stationed on Coruscant, where I oversee the security of the Senate, manage operations at the military base on the planet, and coordinate with local authorities to maintain public safety. My fellow Guard Commanders and I are participating in this correspondence program to connect with Republic citizens we have sworn to protect and defend. I look forward to communicating with you.
Regards,
Commander Fox
His opening message was … something. It read like he didn’t want to be in the program, like his fellow Commanders may have forced him to do it with them. You also supposed he may have not known how else to introduce himself, and that was the best way he could think of to make a good first impression.
Regardless of the reason for his overly stiff and formal introduction, you wrote up your first message to Fox:
Hello Commander Fox, it’s nice to meet you!
I live on Naboo, in a small town in the lake country. I have a job in my grandmother’s tea shop. It’s not nearly as exciting as guarding Senators or catching bad guys, but it’s quiet and peaceful. I’m saving up to travel the galaxy one day, and until then the next best thing is talking with people like you who live in different places.
I do have some questions for you: what’s it like living on Coruscant? What do you do in your free time? Do you have any exciting stories about saving Senators from Separatists that you can share?
Hope to hear from you soon!
You signed with your name and sent the message.
A few days later, Fox sent his response. He greeted you by name in his opening line then went on to say:
Coruscant is loud, crowded, and messy. Feels like the planet never sleeps, with all the noise and lights at all hours of the day. My troopers and I live in barracks on the surface, and we don’t get much free time. Some of the boys like to go to this bar called 79’s that a lot of clones frequent. It’s not my favorite place, though. When I have free time, I like to relax with a good book, watch holodramas, or catch up on sleep. The work we do is important and a great service to the Republic, but a quiet peaceful life on Naboo with no excitement would be a welcome change of pace compared to my current station.
I haven’t rescued any Senators in the line of duty, but I did help Senator Amidala arrest Ziro the Hutt at the beginning of the war. I like Senator Amidala, she has a good head on her shoulders.
(She’s your Senator, isn’t she?)
I hope that’s what you were wanting to hear.
Looking forward to your response,
Commander Fox
You smiled to yourself as you read his message, and you imagined him in full armor laying back in a bed reading a book. Quiet, restful moments that you took for granted in your quiet life must have been sacred to a man like Fox.
The following day, you hiked out to the nearest lake to take pictures. You made sure to capture the lush green grass surrounding the lake, the colorful wildflowers growing along the shore, the sparkling crystal blue waters, and the majestic waterfalls that poured water into the lake. You made sure to include the pictures in the next message you wrote to Fox:
Senator Amidala is indeed from Naboo. She was our Queen too, back when I was younger. Everyone in my town loves her, and my grandma even has her royal portrait on display in the shop.
Not much has really happened since I last wrote to you. But I did go out and take some pictures of a nearby lake! The pictures are included with this message. I hope they can give you a small taste of my quiet life here.
--
Three weeks went by, and you hadn’t received a message from Fox. At first you figured he was busy with his duties. Then you worried that your pictures of the lake soured his mood, reminding him of something he couldn’t have. Then … you feared the worst.
One day after work, you went home and checked your message inbox on your computer. There was a message waiting for you from Fox. You breathed a sigh of relief as you opened it and read:
I’m sorry it took me so long to write you back. There was a bombing that took out the Senate’s power grid, and then a hostage crisis with bounty hunters, and then Ziro the Hutt escaped from prison. When I haven’t been scouring the city for Ziro or his accomplices, I have been neck-deep in paperwork.
Ironic, how right after I brag about helping bring Ziro into custody, he escapes.
I appreciate the pictures you sent me. Naboo looks like a beautiful planet. I would love to visit someday.
~ Fox
You took note of how he signed off with just his name, not his rank, and then you leaned back in your chair to mull over what to say to him. Your first idea was to invite him to visit Naboo once the war was over, but who knew when that would be. Unable to think of anything to say, you decided to come back to it later as you went about your evening.
The next day while you were at work, you served a customer some herbal tea that was supposed to have a relaxing effect. The customer didn’t stick around long enough for you to see if it worked, but you took a tin full of the loose-leaf tea home with you after your shift. You reviewed the rules of the correspondence program, confirming that it would be appropriate to send a package to Fox, and then you packaged the tea up and took it to the shipping depot to send to Coruscant.
Stars, shipping items to Coruscant was expensive. Fox better like that tea, you thought.
Hello Fox,
I don’t mind that you wrote late. I’m just glad that nothing happened to you.
That really is some rotten luck, Ziro escaping. I hope you or the Jedi catch him and take him back to prison. In the meantime, remember to rest and take care of yourself! Coruscant needs a great Commander like you looking out for it, and I like having you as my pen pal.
I sent you a package with some tea from the shop. It’s a relaxation blend. I haven’t tried it, but it’s popular with customers. It should arrive in the next rotation or two. Hope you like it.
Three days later you got his next message:
The tea is wonderful. I had a cup of it an hour before going to bed, and I had the best sleep of my life. Thank you.
~Fox
Short and sweet, but you couldn’t ask for more.
--
Over the following weeks you and Fox continued to exchange messages. The two of you discovered that you shared a common interest in a holodrama series and dedicated several messages to discussing it and predicting what might happen in the coming episodes. You sent him more pictures of the countryside and of your village, and he sent you pictures of the Coruscant skyline at sunset: the way the golden light of the sun glinted off the shining chrome towers was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen, and it moved Coruscant up a few spots on your list of places to visit.
At one point you looked up pictures of the clones on the Holonet to get an idea of what Fox might look like. However, the only pictures of the troopers you could find showed them with their helmets on. The closest you could get was a ten-year-old picture of Jango Fett; Jango was ridiculously handsome, so it would stand to reason that Fox would be too.
Fox gradually began loosening up, and he shared stories about growing up on Kamino or shenanigans his brothers got into. He hinted at there being some interpersonal drama among some Senators, but he didn’t name names since he knew the supervisors of the correspondence program read his messages before sending them to you, to make sure he wasn’t divulging information he shouldn’t be.
Fox also asked you more questions about your life. You told him about your childhood, your relationship with your parents, how you got your job at your grandmother’s shop, about your friends that moved to Theed for work or university studies, and all the places in the galaxy you wanted to visit.
You mentioned wanting to see Felucia, and in his next message Fox included pictures of the planet’s colorful trees, plants, flowers, and shrubs – including a few at night, when the vegetation gave off a bioluminescent glow.
One of my fellow Commanders spends a lot of time doing missions on Felucia. I asked him for pictures to show you and he took these and sent them to me.
I’m trying to get him to join this correspondence program too, but he won’t agree to it. He spends a lot of time with his Jedi, maybe that’s enough for him.
I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings about not having a Jedi. I think about how some of them seem like a pain to work with and that it might not be worth the trouble, but then I see other Jedi treat the men under their command as friends or even family.
Which is why I’ve come to appreciate your messages. When I get them, they’re the highlight of my day. For a brief amount of time I feel like a normal person. I’ve never met you face-to-face, I don’t even know what you look like, but I consider you a friend.
~Fox
Getting pictures of Felucia from Fox made you feel all warm and fluttery inside. What he said about feeling like a normal person did as well, but it broke your heart at the same time. You wanted to stow away on a ship to Coruscant to give him a hug, and then go kick the behinds of anyone who ever made him feel bad about himself. Especially since he and his brothers worked so hard to keep people safe … it was a crime that they weren’t getting the recognition they deserved.
You snapped a picture of yourself to include in your next message, making sure the lighting and angle were just right so you looked your best. It also helped that you just happened to be wearing a color that you thought you looked good in.
Thank you for the pictures of Felucia! When I look at them it’s almost like I’m actually there. Please pass my gratitude along to your brother who took them.
I think of you as a friend too. I’m grateful to have you defending the Republic, and I’m glad to have you as my pen pal.
I don’t have much to offer you right now, other than a picture of me. At least now you can know what I look like.
You sent the message with the picture, leaned back in your chair, and watched the monitor of your computer. You knew that Fox wasn’t going to write back that same night, but you imagined him opening the message, reading your words, seeing your picture, and smiling the way his message made you smile.
Oh.
Oh no.
Were you developing a crush on him?
Then again, so what if you were? You didn’t have to tell him, you could hide it. He was parsecs away on another planet. And he was a clone; would he even be allowed to date if he wanted to? Nothing would or could come of it. If a crush was forming, with any luck it would go away on its own. But that didn’t stop you from double-checking how many credits you had in your savings and comparing that number to the cost for a ticket to Coruscant.
--
Four days went by during which you went about your usual business, often distracted by thoughts of Fox how his day might have been going. Maybe he was chasing Separatists or criminals around, or maybe he was buried under another mound of paperwork. You wondered if he caught the newest episode of the holodrama you both liked; you couldn’t wait to talk about it with him. That little crush you were sure would fade away wasn’t going anywhere, and it both delighted and frustrated you.
The first thing you did after you got home from your shift was check your messages. It had become routine at this point, especially since a new message from him easily became the highlight of your day. However, the message in your inbox – presumably from Fox – was not what you thought it would be:
Greetings, Fox’s Pen Pal!
I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but Fox has it BAD for you. I’ve been watching him write these messages to you and hemming and hawing around the barracks and his office making sure he gets every word just right. He’s got your pictures of the lakes and fields on Naboo framed on the wall of his office, he drank all that tea you sent him and he still keeps the tin on his desk right next to your selfie. And if you knew the amount of favors he had to cash in to get our brother Bly to get those pictures of Felucia for you! (it’s a lot, trust me)
Anyway, I thought you ought to know. I told him to make a move and be honest about his feelings but he’s shy. So even though I might be overstepping some boundaries, I feel like it’s my brotherly duty to intervene on his behalf. If there’s a chance you might feel the same way, you should tell him. If you don’t, proceed how you will but please go easy on him.
If it influences your decision-making process at all, I included a picture of him. He’s a good-looking guy if I do say so myself, although he’s not as handsome as me 😉
Yours truly,
Commander Thorn
PS – please don’t tell Fox that I wrote you using his account.
You sat at your computer, staring blankly at the words on the screen, taking minutes to process what you just read … and then you remembered there was a picture attached to the message, so you opened up the attachment.
Jango Fett may have been handsome, but Fox was gorgeous. He looked like he was in his early- or mid-twenties, although there were wisps of gray hair above his ears by his temples. His hair was cropped close along the sides and longer on top, and you took a minute to admire his curl pattern. He wasn’t smiling in the picture, his face wearing a more neutral resting expression that showed off the scar running along the corner of his mouth. Finally, you noticed his eyes: framed by dark circles, his irises were a deep, inviting shade of brown. What would it be like to look into his eyes in person, or run your hands through his hair, or trace his scar with your thumb before you went in to –
You stopped yourself. You were getting carried away. Heat rose up the back of your neck and across your cheeks.
For the rest of the evening you mulled over what to do next. You knew you wanted to tell him that you liked him too … but doing it over a message didn’t feel like enough. Turning up unannounced was a bad idea too. Would he even want you to show up in person? And since you didn’t have his contact information outside of the correspondence program, you didn’t have a way to call him for a face-to-face talk via holotransceiver.
Unsure of what to do, you fired off a message as soon as the fleeting idea for it popped into your brain. Would you regret it? Maybe. Only one way to find out.
Hi Fox,
I want to come visit you on Coruscant. When will you be free?
It only took a few minutes for him to respond, but it felt like hours. The entire time your heart pounded furiously in your chest, and you bounced your leg up and down since you could barely contain your jitters inside your body. There was a chance he would say no, Thorn did say he was shy after all. But when his message came through, you opened it immediately, and all the jitters melted away.
I see you got Thorn’s message … lucky for us he’ll be available to cover for me when I’m off-duty to host you. Let me know when you’re coming.
Your mouth instantly spread into a grin … you could hardly believe it. It hardly seemed real, even as you opened up a Holonet page to book a roundtrip ticket.
--
Four rotations later, your transport came into orbit around Coruscant. A shuttle took you from the transport down to the planet’s surface, and you were in awe of the densely-packed constellations of lights twinkling up from the planet’s surface. Descending into the atmosphere, those lights morphed into buildings, and lanes upon lanes of speeder traffic, and seemingly endless grids of buildings. At one point you saw several buildings whose architecture differed from the others; the pilot pointed them out and said they were the Senate Complex and the Jedi Temple, respectively.
You disembarked from the shuttle and paused to look around. Coruscant was nothing like Naboo. Not a speck of green in sight, no signs of nature, just duracrete and grays upon grays as far as the eye could see. And it was loud, just like Fox said it was, with the revving engines and blasting horns from speeders breezing by above your head.
You checked your wrist chrono, seeing that you had two hours until you were due to meet Fox at 79’s. Next, you pulled a datapad out of your bag that contained a map of the planet’s surface and studied how to get from your current position to the hotel you booked for your stay. The hotel was only a couple of blocks from the bar – not that you had certain expectations for this trip or anything, you thought it would be easier to stay nearby.
All in all, it took one hour and fifty minutes to get from the shuttle landing pad to the hotel to drop off your things, and then another eight to get from the hotel to 79’s. In your rush and panic as you navigated Coruscant’s taxi and public transportation systems, you didn’t have time to be too nervous about meeting Fox in person for the first time. But as you walked up to the entrance of the bar with its painfully bright neon signs and the muffled music spilling out from inside, it all hit you.
You took off to a strange planet by yourself to see a man you only knew through messages. If your grandmother had her way she would have stopped you from going. What if he didn’t like you after the trip … what if you didn’t like him? What if something went wrong?
But then you saw him standing by the entrance to the bar, recognizing him by his red-painted armor and the gray hairs above his ears and the thick curls on top of his head that you admired so much. He was surveying the area with a soldier’s laser-sharp focus, perhaps looking for your arrival, and he clutched a small bouquet of colorful flowers to his chest. When his eyes met yours, his face lit up with a smile, the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. Your worries seemed to matter less as you broke into a brisk jog to meet him.
“Fox?” you asked, smiling yourself.
“Indeed,” he responded before he handed the flowers to you. “I- uh- I got you these.”
“They’re beautiful, thank you,” you said. No one had ever gotten you flowers before; in the past it didn’t seem like anything to miss out on, but now that you held a bouquet in your arms, you felt special. Treasured, even.
“And, uh, as for the venue ….” Fox’s voice trailed off as he glanced over his shoulder at the bar’s garishly bright neon signs.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, trying to be reassuring.
“I’m not allowed in most places, even when I’m off-duty … and I would have liked to take you somewhere nicer ….” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. You could hear in his voice just how nervous he was.
“Because … well … you’re special to me. In a way no one else in my life is.”
You smiled at him again, and then wasted no time in leaning forward and pressing your lips to his cheek. It felt right to kiss him like that, but when you pulled back and saw him staring at you in shock and awe, you worried that it was too much too soon.
“C-can I …” he stammered. You nodded, and he angled his face so he could return the gesture. His lips were surprisingly soft against the skin of your cheek, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel or taste like on your own lips.
There would be time for that later, you reminded yourself, if all went well.
“Does this place have food?” you ask him.
“Yes.”
“Drinks?”
“Well it is a bar … they have non-alcoholic drinks too, if that’s what you prefer.”
“Then it’s got everything I need. I don’t know what I would do with myself at a fancy restaurant anyway.”
“I imagine a restaurant would be quieter and allow for some proper conversation … but Thorn told me about a spot inside where we’ll be able to talk and hear each other without having to shout over the music.” Fox added.
“Sounds perfect,” you said with a smile.
Fox offered his arm to you and you took it, wrapping your hand around his bicep just above his elbow so he could lead you into the bar. Throughout the evening any time your eyes met his you felt safe, like you were the only person in the universe, and that you needed to figure out a way to make regular visits to Coruscant.
No matter what, you would always be glad you got Fox as a pen pal, and that you came to visit him. Especially since it was more fun to rant and rave about the newest episode of the holodrama in person.
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thisisawonderfulusername · 4 years ago
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let’s save the world
season one, episode eight
five hargreeves x reader
summary: a new piece of information surfaces, and you end up following another trail, which leads to something bad.
trigger warnings: cursing, gore(?)
word count: 2k
a/n: the beginning kinda sucks??? i legit couldn’t think of how to write it for some reason, so i’m sorry about that :/ it’s also kinda short again, due to the lack of action once again. anywho, enjoyyyy
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sleeping in a chair isn’t the most comfortable thing. it was nearly impossible to even get into that sweet state of unconsciousness, but you managed it.
you didn’t have much time to stay that way, as you fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, and now, someone was shaking you violently to pull you out of the sleep that you wished lasted longer.
"i’m awake.” you grumble, grabbing at the hands that held your shoulders to get them to stop shaking you, and thankfully they do. “just give me a moment.”
after rubbing your eyes for a moment, you open them, looking up in front of you and sighing when you see five standing in front of you. “you’re supposed to be resting.” you mumble, standing up and stretching your arms up above your head.
“the end of the world isn’t going to wait.” he responds simply, giving a tight-lipped smile. “i’ll be fine.”
you sigh softly, shaking your head. “fine, but if you die, i’ll kill you.” you fix the cuffs of your shirt, glancing up at him. “nice pajamas.” you comment on the matching set, a small grin on your face.
he rolls his eyes, “yeah, thanks.” he says sarcastically, sitting at the edge of the bed. “did you put delores in the wardrobe?” he questions, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looks at you.
“yeah.” after fixing your sleeves, you look to him. “lift your shirt up.” you tell him, grabbing the medical kit that grace had left behind the night before, opening it up.
“why?”
“so i can change the gauze, idiot.” you shoot back, grabbing everything you need.
he does as you say, but speaks again as he lays back on the bed. “no, i meant why did you put delores in the wardrobe?” he corrects himself on his question, and you look back at him.
“she was annoying me.” you mumble after a moment of silence, avoiding his gaze as you pull the bloodied gauze off of his stomach, scrunching your nose up as you toss it to the side. you can see his grin out of the corner of your eye. “why are you smiling like that?” you question, pursing your lips.
he chuckles as he watches you replace the dressing. “she was annoying you?” he repeats your answer, an amusement in his tone that you hated to no end.
“yes,” you gritted your teeth, keeping yourself from looking up at him. sometimes, he was unbearably annoying. “is that funny to you?” you finally look away from his wound for a moment, raising an eyebrow at him.
he looked at you for a moment, the grin still plastered on his face, making it very tempting to punch him just so he would stop. “yeah, kind of.” he doesn’t even bother to hide it, and you roll your eyes as you look back to the wound to secure the gauze with medical tape. “i thought you said she’s just a mannequin.”
glaring at him as you throw everything back into the kit, you place it on the table. “she is. doesn’t mean she can’t be annoying. she’s almost as bad as you.” you mutter, standing from the bed as he sits up and pulls his shirt back down over his stomach. “maybe you’re where she gets it.”
he doesn’t say anything else about it, simply walking past you with the smirk still plastered on his face. “let’s have some coffee. klaus said he had something to tell us.” he glances at you as you follow him out of the room, “apparently it’s important.”
you both made your way down the stairs and into the kitchen, seeing luther slumped over at the table with klaus taking a pot off of the coffee maker, grabbing a few mugs and filling them up with the coffee.
luther grabs one of the mugs, but just as he’s about to take a sip, five steals it from him, and you hold back a laugh at the look of dejection that crosses his face.
“jesus,” you look to five as he looks in disgust at the mug, “who do i have to kill to get a decent cup of coffee?”
shaking your head, you grab one of the full mugs, taking a sip as you stand at the end of the table, leaning against the edge. you unconsciously tapped your fingers against the wood, the faintest tapping being heard from the action.
“anyone seen any of the others?” klaus questions, glancing around the kitchen, “allison, diego? no?” nobody gives a reply and he shrugs, “alright then, guess this is the closest thing we’re gonna get to a quorum.” he hits a spatula against the table, and luther groans at the sound. “alright, there’s no easy way to say this, so i’m just going to spit it out.”
he hits the spatula against his hand, sighing softly. it goes quiet for a moment, and after a second of him staring off without saying anything, luther grabs his attention again. “i conjured dad last night.” he spits out, pressing his lips together as he looks between you and the other two.
pursing your lips, you glance to the boys, before slowly picking up your coffee. “yeah, this seems like more of a family thing so i’ll just...” you take slow steps towards the door, pointing into the hall, “bye.” you turn on your heel and quickly leave, not wanting to stick around for whatever sibling fight would happen. five could just fill you in.
you made your way back up to five’s room as quickly as you could without spilling the contents of your mug, sighing softly as you get into the room and shut the door behind you.
you sit on the bed, leaning back against the wall behind it, just sipping your coffee while you wait.
within a few minutes, or maybe more, you couldn’t really tell, five appeared in the room with a blue flash, and you jump slightly from the surprise. luckily, your mug was mostly empty so you could keep the coffee from splashing out. “well,” you look at him with a raised eyebrow, “what happened?”
he sighs as he sits on the edge of the bed, looking off into nothing. “apparently, the old man killed himself.”
you’re a bit shocked, but you only keep your mouth shut for a second. “why would he do that?” you question, downing the rest of the warm drink and setting the cup to the side. “that doesn’t make any sense.”
“from what klaus said- and what pogo confirmed,” your eyes widen slightly at the fact that the druggie was actually telling the truth, “he was trying to get us all back together. to save the world.”
you stare at him for a moment, lips parted as you try to find words. “that doesn’t make any sense.” you mumble quietly after a second, looking to the equation riddled walls, “how would he know that the world needed to be saved? he can’t time travel, he wouldn’t know about the apocalypse.”
“i have no idea.” he admits with a shrug, standing from the bed and going to the wardrobe, opening it up and pulling delores out and putting her on the bed before grabbing one of the uniforms. you took it as a sign to turn around, “but somehow, he knew to kill himself a week before the end of the world, and the plan worked.”
sighing softly, you nod, getting a bit lost in your thoughts about how he could possibly know about all this. in the end, it wouldn’t really matter, but it would still be nice to know.
after a minute or so, he tells you he’s finished changing so you get up from the bed. “i guess we have to get this show on the road.” you hum, sticking your hands in the pockets of your skirt, “hopefully this harold dude is actually who we need. i couldn’t stand it if we follow another trail that leads to nothing.”
“hopefully this is the big break in our little mission.” five sighs, “let’s go find the others. we’ll need their help, of course.”
you grin as you follow him out of the room, “i never thought you would admit to needing your siblings’ help.” you tease, poking his arm.
he rolls his eyes, not acknowledging your comment as he knocks on klaus’ door and walks in. he explains what he was thinking to him and the plan as he gets ready for the adventure of finding others while you lean against the door frame.
once he’s ready, you all begin to walk down the hall, ready to leave the academy, but diego comes running in. furrowing your eyebrows, you watch him go into his room as he pulls off his jacket. “where have you been?”
“jail.” he responds, and you look to the other two, raising an eyebrow. they’re just as clueless. “long story. where’s luther?” he grabs his little vest thing strapped with all of his knives.
“we haven’t seen him since breakfast.” five tells him as he comes out of the room, standing in front of you all as he puts the vest on.
klaus sighs, “yeah, two days until the world ends, great time to drop off the grid.”
“shit.” diego breathes out, still catching his breath from running in. “allison is in danger.”
you all look to each other, before deciding it would be best to get going.
-
walking into a bar, the irish republic, klaus points to one of the tables, an unmistakable big, hairy man sitting there. all of you make your way towards him, and klaus puts a hand on the table to lean against it. “trying a little hair of the dog?”
diego takes the other seat at the table, setting his gloves on the table. “give us a minute.”
“okay, c’mon.” klaus glances between you and five, “maybe they’ll brood each other to death.” he stands straight again, and you all leave them, instead leaning against one of the tables lining the walls and watching them talk.
it takes a few minutes, but something diego said managed to get him up and running to the door. “well, shit.” you chuckle, quickly following as he opens the door (and breaks it).
-
it was getting dark, and all of you crammed into the small car, luckily you got to the front seat before any of the others, so you didn’t have to be smushed by luther as klaus and diego were.
it was silent as you sped down the road lined by trees, showing how you were basically in the middle of nowhere.
perfect place for a murderer like jenkins.
you had the window on your side open, needing fresh air to calm yourself a bit. you would never tell any of them, but you were a bit worried. allison could have wandered into a dangerous situation and got herself hurt, or you guys could wander into a dangerous situation together and get hurt or even killed.
the only time anyone spoke was when luther asked five if he could go any faster, only getting a threat in return.
you pull up to the cabin, the front lights were on but the house was seemingly empty. everyone clambered out, running up the front steps.
luther got there first, kicking the door open then freezing in his place. that couldn’t mean anything good. you heard him saying allison’s name, and when you entered the house, you’re eyes widened at the sight. her throat had been cut, from what you don’t know, but you had a feeling it was harold.
the pool of blood that covered the wooden floor beneath her head was enough to make your stomach churn.
“shit.” you mutter, standing frozen in your spot as you watched luther cry.
-
taglists:
main: @horrorklaus​
tua: @rasberrymay​ @noodlextrash​
five: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff​ @colie-babi​
lstw: @aspiringwriter1 @thetrashypanda423 @lilacs-lavender @wow-lookit-all-the-fandoms @ohmyitsfaith @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @onedollarduck @sleepygal124 @faith-quake @stripedchickens @youcandalekmyballs @pettyjayy @libidinexx @bts-chub​
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pink-wasteland · 4 years ago
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Screenshot: Adrienette that’s borderline crack in the best way (Teen&up)
It was a nightmare. He hadn’t meant to leave his phone unattended, Alya had asked him a question and when he put his phone down to give her his full attention, Nino had picked it up to check the time and instead was greeted with a private Instagram account Adrien had created with the specific purpose to lurk in peace.
“No way, dude. Do you just stalk a bunch of Ladybug look alikes in your spare time?”
Adrien gaped, too horrified to process his world falling apart around him.
“Wow, look at this one, she looks almost exactly like ladybug!”
“Let me see!” Alya sounded too eager.
He’d never admit it, but there were more than just a few girls on his private Instagram that looked “exactly like” ladybug. And no, it wasn’t just a uncanny accident.
But the account his friend happened to stumble on was his favorite, a well off Russian Instagram model who’s handle was Steelix.
She could pass for a perfect Ladybug, if not for her brown eyes. She was perfect in almost every way, and posted great *ahem* material. Ladybug was the fantasy girl of his dreams and anybody that looked liked her was at risk of being followed and stalked by his private finsta page.
His private page he was privately ashamed of.
That his best friend was now holding up to show his own girlfriend, and the girl Adrien quietly, sort-of had a crush on. This really was his worst nightmare. He tried to snatch the phone from Nino but to no avail. “It’s just some girl. I like her photography.”
“Yeah sure that’s why you liked all her recent pictures and wrote in the comments ‘omg’ with a heart face, a drooling face, and two fire emojis.”
Adrien was red in the face, his mouth gone completely dry not knowing what to say.
“Wow Adrien, these are the kind of girls you like?” Alya asked.
Adrien glanced toward Marinette, and the look on her face was perfectly surprised. Ironically, her face was one of the ones he lives to see grace the screen of his dirty private Insta. Marinette had great Ladybug features right down to the freckles on her nose. The only bad thing was Marinette rarely posted any selfies at all, and although her account was an interesting documentary of her handmade fashions, it did not serve the dirty purpose his fake account had followed her for.
“So what?” He finally grabbed the phone from Nino and was getting back some of his composure, although his face was still deeply flushed.
“Oh no reason.” Alya’s smile was wicked, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
——__ __——__ __
Marinette ponders what she just witnessed while Alya blabs in her ear. She wasn’t holding the phone, but it sure looked like he was following a lot of slim girls with shoulder length black hair. If she didn’t know any better she would think he would have a type... And he certainly did nothing to dissuade that idea. He turned beet red and made some dumb excuse about photography. And that girl.. the one whose photo he had commented on, Marinette knew her. Well, she had previously followed her. Steelix has such a similar face structure to her own that she had been a phenomenal teacher of makeup to Marinette. She knew all the right things to use and what products would work on her just by watching what Steelix recommended. She had loved following her for her beauty content, but when her account started becoming more of a travel diary with pictures of her on island beaches in bikinis with inspirational quotes covering the captions, Marinette had to find other places to search for helpful information.
All of these thoughts were making her wonder about Adrien, and the things she had neglected to notice about him.
“If Adrien likes shorter, dark haired girls than why doesn’t he comment on my selfies like that?”
“Umm interrupt me, much?”
Oops, she didn’t mean to say that outloud.
“But maybe because you never post any, especially not to insta.”
Marinette thought about this. It was true she used her IG story to post updates on her Latest creations, and her grid was very much like a well thought out catalog. She was very proud of that page, but it was definitely not the place where she’d be posting cute sundress selfies.
“I use my Snapchat for personal stuff like that.”
“Exactly. And I bet you haven’t even given Adrian your snap.”
Marinette frowned, stealing a glance at the boys table. “No, I guess I haven’t.”
“Well what are you doing sitting here talking to me for? Go get his snap and start using it for evil!”
---_ _ _---_ _ _---
“Hey Adrian! Wait up!”
Adrian was more nervous than he should have been when his friend approached, but he kept the feeling off his face. “Hey Marinette! What’s up?”
She stopped right in front of him, “I was just thinking about earlier, how you have a private instagram account.”
Adrians stomach dropped. Had she figured him out? Did she know he was using her and girls that looked like her to quiet his drowning ache for Ladybug? He was so ashamed of himself. He was weak, so desperately weak.
“And it just got me thinking that I’ve known you so long and we don’t even have each others snaps.”
“I’m so- wait, what?”
“Snapchat. We don’t even have eachother added. So, want to be friends?” Marinette held out her phone, snap code ready for him to scan, her happy little pigtailed Bitmoji smiling up at him.
Something warm ticked his belly. “Yeah, definitely.” He pulled out his phone and added her to his seldom used snap account.
——__ __——__ __
He has to add her on his old account, the one with the list of contacts from kids that once gave him their number. There really isn’t that many.
Adrien finds out quickly that Marinette posts her selfies on snap, and keeps her instagram clean and more professional. Very smart for a girl who is looking to go to college next fall. He clicks on her daily story; a picture of her in her bedroom mirror, a picture of fresh croissants and danish, a picture of Alya, Rose and some other girls at her lunch table, and then finally a selfie. A picture taken from straight above, she was lying down in her bed, light pink and white pajamas that looked like they may have a ribbed texture to them. He could see the edge of the selfie stick she was using to get such a wide angle, the idea that she had planned this sleepy in bed photo turned him on more than he could have ever dreamed. He could see the tops of her exposed thighs where her matching pj shorts abruptly ended. Her lean, exposed belly led up to the cropped short sleeve tshirt, that was so on-trend and so Marinette that he had no doubt she’d made it for herself.
Best of all, her blue eyes stared right back at him through the camera and her lips were puckered just right.
It was as he was getting himself all worked up thinking about the blue of her gaze, easing his own back down her body when he realized something else; she wasn’t wearing a bra. And the way she had arched her back to show off the muscles of her stomach only made it more obvious; and Adrian couldn’t believe he didn’t notice them before. Tiny peaks hidden behind soft pink fabric. He was going to lose his mind.
His heart was beating faster and he swallowed back guilt as he unzipped his pants. Her body was amazing, and he was insanely greatful she left this on infinite. He worked himself till climax thinking about what her nipples must look like beneath that thin pajama top, and what it might feel like to taste them. He kept working himself, more gently, thinking about that face, those lips and those eyes and how bad he wanted her to swallow him. Who? Marinette or Ladybug? Honestly in that moment he didn’t feel like he was using her pictures as a ladybug substitute. He cleaned off his phone and thought seriously if he should use his tablet to take a picture of the screen just so Marinette wouldn’t know he screenshoted her. Another, dirtier part of him wants her to know. Wants to comment on her pictures like he’s some random thirsty nobody. Tell her how she makes him sweat, how he can’t get enough. He wants to use his private page to stalk her, too.
Damn sometimes the lines get too confusing.
He sits there, weighing his options. This picture was too good for him to let go. But he didn’t want to look like he was chasing after Marinette’s thirst traps when he knew he was still just a dirty pervert for Ladybug. Adrien felt like screen recording would be even more creepy than a screenshot, and almost made him feel like he was coping out, being a chump. But if he did screenshot her what would Marinette say? Would she ignore it? Would he be sad if she did?
Adrien shook off his intrusive thoughts and screenshotted his new favorite photo. And for good measure; and maybe so he could feel like he was making a move instead of just drooling over his classmate; he sent “wow” with an emoji it took him way too long to choose. Stuck between the drooling or hot emoji he finally got fed up with himself tapped his screen and sent it off without letting himself immediately get anxious. He made a decision, over analyzing himself won’t help anything. Now he just had to wait for Marinette to respond.
And then he could freak out again.
——————————-
A/N: a work in progress, can someone help me come up with their snap handles? I don’t like the ones I have right now. Adriens is supposed to read as (BeAgreste= be•our•guest). I dunno! I’m not good with puns it’s the best I could do! Please help me!
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doorsclosingslowly · 3 years ago
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Hell is just a beat away (3/9)
Despite early promise, young Maul has turned out to be a disappointment, willfully delaying his training with secret attempts to make himself friends from scrap metal. He must be properly motivated, and so Darth Sidious sends him to a slave market on an impossible mission. It backfires. Star Wars: Darth Maul (2017) comic AU | 5.2k | warning for slavery, sexual assault of a teenager (non-graphic)
Ten to doomsday, moving fast
Eldra does not sleep. She refuses. If she has to bite her fingers bloody when her eyelids threaten to drop, then so be it. Master Fyaar would have chastened her for it—she always insists that Eldra be at her best regardless of circumstance, and staying awake for what must be more than one or two entire standard days now will help with neither her innate distractibility nor her willful emotions. Her secret inadequacy, unknown to all but Fyaar, who chose Eldra when she was ten and had yet to develop the mind that is, and she has rarely admitted to those fears even in the privacy of her own brain, the mind that is perhaps fundamentally unsuited to the noble path of the Jedi. Sure, she does well enough in her classes, though she drives her teachers to frustration with her incessant fiddling with any trinket at all within her reach and her doodling and her daydreams. Sure, she mostly behaves acceptably among people, though she does not pick up on the right cues to be a diplomat and she vacillates too often between excited talking and secret loneliness, when she, once again, finds her peers more interested in each other than in whatever she has wanted to share. Her one friend in the Order is Bayro who’s two years older, though now she’s not even sure if Bayro would see her as more than a friendly, clingy acquaintance, and—
Will Bayro even miss her? They’ve made plans to watch a holovid after Eldra’s back from Teth and Bayro aces the Advanced Test on Coruscant Sublevels 6665 through 7900. Vague plans, though, and since Eldra didn’t know how long she’d have to guard Mayor Woobudg… Bayro will probably notice in a few months that Eldra hasn’t returned to the Temple, and then watch the holovid with one of her many other friends. She’ll—
Watch your feelings, Eldra, she remembers. It hurts. The memory of Master Fyaar hurts worse than even the imaginary indifference of Bayro does, but it’s necessary. As ever, Master Fyaar’s warning is right, even if it’s only the ghost of Fyaar living on inside Eldra’s grief. Eldra almost lost her calm over a scenario of her own imagination, yet another reminder of her unsuitable mercurial temperament. Yet another reminder of why she needs Fyaar, needs her constant watch, if she wants to remain on the path of the Jedi.
And Master Zalandas Fyaar is dead.
Fyaar’s dead.
Eldra watched her murder, and the murder of everyone she was supposed to protect on this mission. Eldra watched her murder and did not reach for the dark side of the force to avenge her. Eldra watched and held still.
Eldra allowed herself to be abducted.
She does not sleep in her tiny cell, just as she didn’t sleep on the freight ship that carried her to an unknown planet far away from bloodied Teth. She didn’t sleep then as stubbornly as she does now, but even before her wide-open burning eyes the pictures will not stop. The blood. The touch. The grin of her vile captor when he said that she would fetch a tidy sum, despite being a blue twi’lek (“A dime a dozen, they are, and this one’s not even a trained dancer! She hasn’t even… look!” Her captor had pulled her upper lip away then, and she had snapped for his fingers. “She’s still got those awful sharp teeth! Who the hell lets a twi’lek girl walk around with sharp teeth? She could tear a guy’s throat out, with these!”) she would still be worth a quick sale to her captors but only because she is (was) a Jedi padawan, and apparently there are quite a few pieces of shit out there who’d like to hurt a Jedi. Or—she keeps her eyes open, open, open till tears threaten to drop, and yet the thought comes. Or fuck one. Same difference.
A toy that’s padawan-shaped. That’s why they let her keep her own robes. But at least they did.
Watch your feelings, but still, Eldra shakes to her very core. She’s never thought of herself as being anything but a person, slightly inadequate perhaps in all ways that matter to her but a person; a luminous being, a small conduit for the very force to act through in the material galaxy; but now she’s been caught and taught that what she is is actually just a twi’lek girl. Cheap. Interchangeable. Nothing but her species and her gender, nothing but her flesh: a pretty dancer, never mind she hates dancing and if she ever makes it out, if the Jedi find and rescue her, please, please, she will never ever dance not even a single one of those silly novelty dances ever again even if Bayro does it first. She’ll go to whatever lengths needed to never be appraised, judged, looked upon, perceived as anything but a luminous dutiful Jedi ever again.
To these people, she’s not a person. Not a Jedi, unless the fetish counts, not really, not to the slavers and—watch your feelings, but still, the seething disgust returns and she wants nothing more than her lightsaber through her captor’s hearts or their hands torn off by her teeth—perhaps, maybe, please no, not truly anymore either to herself.
Maul wakes up to insistent beeping. He’s never heard the noise before, except—somewhere behind the headache and the nausea he remembers—except roughly five minutes ago, and five minutes before that, and five minutes before… He’s read about those periodical noises. Snooze button on an alarm clock, they’re called. He’s never used them before. He’s never used—Master teaches that a slothful tool is a tool broken, useless, and he’s never before dared to oversleep, even with his throat swollen and filled with mucus he didn’t, but now—it is a mercy he does not deserve, that Master was not here to witness Maul fail so deeply on this mission and just because something beats a booming drum inside his head and stuffed his stomach full of eels twisting up languidly through his esophagus.
Not real eels, though. He checks his vomit after throwing up. No eels. No animals hatched inside him; it’s just an inconvenient illness. And he feels better already, after spewing out the clear oily water and half-digested bread and no eels whatsoever. He does feel much better. Definitely. Illness during his mission would be inconvenient.
He has ample time to travel to the palace of Xev Xrexus before the padawan is sold there. Time he is grateful for, because Master’s ship will not let him in, so he has no access to his stilts or anything else he prepared apart from his cloak and the vocoder mask he carried in his satchel to the convenience store like a talisman of ingenuity and pretense. He doesn’t have his finest Sith robes that he left safe inside, only to be worn in the moment of Darth Maul’s triumph, and most of his weapons, too, apart from one anonymous knife strapped to his shin, are still tidied away in the ship Master gave him that will now pulverize anyone who dares approach.
Luckily, Maul is both incredibly clever—he figured out the location of the padawan! Despite Master giving him a wrong date and location! Solely by his own superior Sith cunning!—and he is within another sucker’s ship now—he sliced the lock in minutes! Because he is Darth Maul!—and the ship is full of new tools for improvisation.
Such as the large pair of black sunglasses that helps guard him at least slightly against the sun’s sickening poking and poking and poking of his cerebral cortex. Such as the trio of black shirts that, belted with a strange deltoid strip of fabric, bulk up his frame considerably and also make him feel toasty warm. Nar Shaddaa is cold, but Maul isn’t. Yet another victory to add to his tally.
With the gloves and the vocoder mask and the Sith cloak added on top, every square centimeter of Maul’s flesh is covered, and as he struts in front of the berth mirror he decides: he looks both incredibly dignified and scary, not to himself obviously but to those forcenull denizens of the underworld who will yet learn to tremble before the almighty Sith. He looks almost as impressive as Master. He doesn’t have the pale chin lurking under his cowl, obviously the most Sithly of looks, but in a pinch the black leather covering his cheeks and the opaque gridded speaker over his mouth should do almost as well.
Before he leaves, he ransacks the ship. No point in abandoning tools he might yet use. Everything he can carry, he stuffs inside his satchel.
Then, he begins the long pedestrian march to the palace of Xrexus. As usual, while he walks, he seethes in the Sithly anger of how much faster he could go if only he had a decent speeder bike. Soon, he reminds himself. Soon. After the oncoming awesome success of this mission, Master will be impressed enough to bestow the title of Darth and gift him a CK-6 swoop bike tuned up to the limits of terrestrial speed. Soon. Besides, with how slow the nausea is to settle, it’s perhaps a tiny bit useful that he is forced to take this brisk long walk in the Nar Shaddaa morning air. Although his coat and shirts fluttering with the speed of his bike would look very cool… He loses himself in his daydreams, and before long, he spies a duo of falleen in white dress shirts and black pants before the palace that belongs to Xev Xrexor.
The most adventurous part of his mission has just begun.
“Greetings,” Maul growls haughtily with the handsome baritone of his vocoder. “I have chosen to purchase a Jedi slave today. I trust this is the location for these sorts of errands?”
“Are you on the guest list?” the left falleen asks.
Guest list? Yet another complication. But Maul must not fail. “I am Ma Goweelr,” he says, borrowing the name of the man whose ship he ransacked. He found an identification card with his name on it and wisely brought it with him. He pulls it out now.
“You don’t look like Goweelr, friend,” she says.
“Unfortunately, I had… an accident.” Blast. They cannot see his face, so tt’s the height issue again. If Maul had his stilts, he could have made his way through easily, but because Master saw fit to lock the ship—no, it’s not Master’s fault. Because Maul was stupid enough to leave his tools aboard the ship, he now falters. What to do. What to do. What to—
“He’s slow,” the other bouncer whispers to his partner, but loudly enough that Maul heard it without issue. He stares intently at Maul, almost if he was expecting a specific reaction.
The left falleen winks. “All right. A little grease in the palm goes a long way, friend.”
Grease? Necessary for the function of machines. Cooking, apparently, also. Often a type of fat, either animal or plant-based, though hydrocarbons mined on certain planets or synthesized in labs such as Corellia’s X-Tech Max nowadays are a far more affordable and controllable—
“He’s dumb, Brighta. We don’t care whether you’re on the guest list. We want a bribe.”
A… Maul’s certain he read about bribes somewhere, but—
“Cash. Money. Credits.”
Credits! Maul found some on the ship. Since they were light enough, he put them in his satchel. The force is with him! He pulls out the chits he found, rummaging in a perhaps less than dignified way—the falleen exchange a look over his head that he’s too busy to try to read, but it doesn’t seem hostile—and when he hands over five thousand credits their vague non-hostility turns to genuine excitement.
“House Xrexus is honored to host you for this auction, sir,” the male falleen says when he opens the door.
“As am I,” Maul replies with a bow. When he walks past, the female bouncer taps him on the shoulder and then bends down to whisper in his ear.
“The Jedi’s auction’s in two hours, but the preview starts in one and she’ll probably get snapped up then, so. Might wanna hurry.”
“Thank… you?” Maul rumbles and winces at the vocoder turning his slight surprise into a question, but the falleen does not laugh this time.
“Appreciative customers are rare. Come back anytime,” and she winks and pushes him with her—warm, strong, startling—hand the rest of the way through the door and then slams it shut.
Presale. Other customers. Complicating factors Maul would not even have known about if it wasn’t for the bouncer—and for the force, therefore, willing him to succeed—because he didn’t… He did not actually expect any competition. After all, there are no other Sith but the Master and his apprentice. Who, then, would have need of a Jedi padawan? Who has need of Xrexus’ auction at all when they are not sent by their Master? Their… Master. Master might compete with Maul at this sale, both as a test of Maul’s readiness and as a failsafe, should Maul not manage to succeed in his mission. Master is incredibly smart after all, and foresees any number of possible twists and turns of a scenario, as unlikely as they might be. Even such unlikely eventualities as Darth Maul not completing in his mission. Master considers everything. It’s why he’s the Master.
Luckily, Maul was forewarned, and so when he passes a fire exit plan of the palace that’s nailed to a wall in the empty entrance hall he looks for any possible… There. A server room. A small bureau. Two places where Maul might gain access to the databases of Xrexus and convince the filing system that he has already bought the Jedi, before the first competitor has even placed their bid. It’s the only surefire way of preempting a person as thorough and prompt as Master is, and besides… Maul understands machines. He can charm and bend them to his will. His confusion at the bouncers’ hints and the tip the falleen gave him when he would never have expected anything of the sort based on the way the previous part of the encounter had passed—never mind the blasted lack of his carefully constructed stilts—were a sore reminder that in the field of people Maul does not yet excel to the standard of a Sith. Something he must remedy, but perhaps not on a mission as important as this. (Perhaps not among people who are oily and stare too hard.)
Laughter peals in a room straight ahead, but the server room is one floor down a side staircase. It’s sectioned off by a dangly gold chain that Maul needs to barely duck to pass under, and no-one passes through either the main corridor he left or the dusty unlit staircase while Maul hops down, thinking I am Sith alternating with I am shadow on every step.
The hallway leading to the server room is just as deserted. The door is locked, but Maul has sliced the access pads of twelve ships now and has refined his technique to under three minutes of elegant fiddling. This lock takes two seconds.
A datapad is already hanging inside right next to the door, from the cable with which it’s plugged into a socket there. Maul picks it up. Its screen is thrice-cracked and fixed up with clear tape. The touchscreen is incredibly sluggish to react, but as much as he might love the challenge of repairing it he only has less than an hour to spare. If he must, he will, but—gloves. He removes the right one, and the datapad responds.
A login screen.
Thus-far, the security has been abysmal. Worse than what he improvised for the secret hiding space of the first functional droid he built, and so he enters root, root. It works.
Pathetic, Maul thinks. Disappointing. Embarrassing. Horrendous. Useless. Awful. You deserve this. You deserve worse. It almost takes off some of the giddiness at how well Maul has been performing on his mission, thus far. His opponents are veritable morons. It is no great feat, to succeed against people as unprepared for basic survival as these, and it does not take a Sith’s cunning—it’s not worthy of the great Darth Maul who learns under Darth Sidious the greatest creature in the galaxy—to fight them.
In the central database he changes the status of the Jedi padawan to Sold and the buyer to Ma Goweelrand types in 666666666 for the winning bid. It’s a large number, and Jedi means valuable. It should pass muster. Probably. Money: yet another area where Maul requires further instruction. There was another card Maul stole with information on Goweelr’s account with the InterGalactic Banking Clan, and he enters it in the respective field. As to the user listed as making these changes, he picks the fifth-most appearing in the database. If he wanted to arouse no suspicion at all, he would need to research Xrexus’ organization in total, but—he’d really rather not. Even glancing at some of the entries of the database reawakened the eels in his stomach.
He pettily changes the admin password and wipes the screen carefully before he logs out.
Mission almost complete.
Half an hour left until the beginning of the presale, a clock tells him, and that’s most likely when they will check the padawan’s entry and approach Goweelr as her legitimate buyer. Everything is going according to plan, as long as he is not caught down here.
Since Maul is Sith and shadow and incredibly silent and deadly, he isn’t.
He sneaks back up and then strides, with as much power and dignity as he can muster when he wants to skip giddily to celebrate a job well done, into the room where the laughter comes from. It’s—
It’s bright. Loud. Full. But more than any other adjective, it’s huge, a room that is a thousand times bigger than anything Maul has ever set foot in, with a domed ceiling rising so far above that he can’t make out any details there. Can’t see whether there are any cameras, or snipers—can’t see anything but the luster and wealth on display. Plants growing on floating bowls of silver, plants he has never seen anywhere but in holos (Most plants are plants he’s only ever seen in holos. Almost all of them. Master rarely makes him train off-planet, and there is nothing but fire on Mustafar.), plants and waterfalls. Delicate staircases that appear to hover in the air just like the tree-bowls are. It looks like something out of a dream, if Maul’s dreams were able to imagine impossible worlds and not just impossible people who’ll save him.
Below it all, there are throngs of people in various kinds of festive garb, chatting and sipping on dainty glasses. People of most species he’s ever read about. Even…
Even a zabrak. There’s a zabrak over in a corner, not an Iridonian zabrak like the ones Maul finds often in his research but a zabrak who looks startingly close to him, hairless and bright and black-marked, only he’s much taller than Maul—he’s tall! Maul always worried that his species was doomed to remain as small as he is right now but he’s tall! He won’t need stilts forever!—and he’s yellow.
Idly—or trying to appear idle but actually shivering with curiosity—he saunters closer. The zabrak, it’s quickly obvious, is not here as a buyer. He’s chained up, both manacles connected to the neck cuff, though the bonds look so flimsy that Maul could have snapped them. He’s almost naked except for a pair of trousers that barely reaches his thighs and, moreover, is made of a fabric far too flimsy and tight to fight in. His skin is weirdly shiny as well, as if he was sweating but that is unlikely, given Maul’s not too hot under his three shirts and a cloak (in fact, it gets colder the closer Maul comes to the strange zabrak), and the yellow zabrak’s not exercising either but standing completely still, feet slightly apart and arms raised in a poor imitation of a fighting pose. The claws on his hand and feet would be called neatly trimmed if Maul didn’t know intimately that this length means they’re cut so close to the bed that it irritates several internal nerves. The horns are filed too close as well, and they look blunt.
A fighting slave.
No. A pretend fighting slave.
Everything about him might look fearsome to one who does not know what to watch for, but he does not stand or dress or groom himself like a fighter.
It’s—it’s difficult for Maul to sort out his reaction. This is a zabrak, the first person like him he’s ever seen, but he’s also a mockery of the warrior he trains so hard to become. Are all other zabraks like this? Does Maul look like this to other people? Flimsy and fake? It is almost enough to be ashamed of the association, and Maul is glad that with his clothes no-one else here can guess at their shared species.
“Welcome,” the unchained human next to the zabrak shouts, and Maul cranes his neck but apparently it’s addressed to him. “What are you looking for? A nightly companion? A gladiator? A—”
“This is not a gladiator,” Maul growls.
“Ah, well, he’s versatile,” the slaver says. “Do you see his muscles?” He squeezes the other zabrak’s biceps. The zabrak does not react. “He is excellent at bearing pain as well,” and alright, Maul will give him that. From this close, he can see the faint network of scars.
“He’s truly a wild beast when you want him that way,” and if to contradict him—the first time Maul feels anything approaching pride at their kinship—the zabrak refuses to bare his teeth, even when the human slaps him in the face twice and then prods him with something bearing electric sparks. Still, the zabrak will not relent. He’s breathing and moving but somewhere deep in his eyes he looks nothing short of dead.
“I have business elsewhere,” Maul stutters out and the vocoder smooths it into a low growl. The queasy pit in his stomach must be the return of the eels, or else the force aims to reveal to him that he might be being observed by fleets of holodroids, a technological wonder he should research immediately upon completion of his mission, when he will never think of the scar-covered zabrak and his empty eyes ever again. He won’t even remember his face or his color. No, Maul will attempt to engineer holodroids and present them to his Master, who will be proud.
That’s what he thinks about, while he wanders the huge room at random. Holodroids. He doesn’t think about zabraks. In fact, he’s forgotten every fact he ever heard about that species. No zabraks exist but Maul. That’s the way it goes.
He doesn’t think of zabraks at all for several more minutes, and then a tannoy system message calls out for Ma Goweelr and his time of floating is over.
Thus far, the boy’s little adventure has been a disappointment. There were moments of fear and shame and misery, but mostly, what Sidious receives from him is bright giddy elation at being entrusted with this mission. It should have figured that Maul is not intelligent enough to see through his Master’s true plans, and yet—it was folly on his part, Sidous is prepared to admit that, but he expected more of his little zabrak.
Well. More agony, mostly.
He’ll have to be a little more patient. Someday soon, Maul’s luck will have to run out.
“This is her, Sir. Opening the cell now,” a woman says in front of the suddenly-bright cell, and Eldra’s hard-won, tattered, wide-eyed serenity dissipates.
It’s Dilar. Dilar, self-loathing traitor of a twi’lek slave. Eldra’s only known her for a day and enjoyed exactly zero seconds of it. The old woman’s hatred and revulsion at what she is forced to do, preparing slaves to be sold on, crowds out the very air. For the slavers, her utter loathing might be imperceptible—Dilar is a grudging, but polite tool—but it’s everywhere in the force, and Eldra cannot breathe. It’s hard enough keeping herself calm—keeping herself Jedi—when she knows that any time now a lecher with a Jedi fetish will come to her cell.
A lecher, or her rescuer.
Watch your feelings: do not give in to despair, Eldra, as Fyaar would say if she could. Maybe a Jedi will come.
It’s a war inside her, equal parts of hope and terror, and without her Master’s guidance how will Eldra find the strength to make herself calm again? Calm, serene, like the Jedi she was supposed to be.
A Jedi is better than this.
There is no emotion. There is peace.
There is no hatred, especially. Eldra should not hate Dilar. She shouldn’t hate every single slaver in the entire world, with even deeper depths of seething odium reserved for anyone selling or buying her. She shouldn’t. She does.
She isn’t wearing a force-suppressant collar, but that doesn’t matter. There are things far more binding than chains, than collars, in this world: Eldra promised her Master that she would be strong. She promised. She promised, and she hates these slavers. If she reached for the force now, she wouldn’t be able to call herself Jedi anymore. She would fail her Master and lose herself.
She would use her hatred to kill her tormentors. She would tear their throats out.
She would Fall.
Fear, raging and cold, has been her only companion for uncounted waking days now, that and bitter loathing. Master Fyaar died in front of her. Eldra’s been stripped of everything she thought she was and turned into a commodity, and now the only bright spot in her life is the fact that Martrey Woobudg the slaver, slaver, slaver who brought them to Teth is also fucking dead. Hopefully, it hurt.
The sudden hope is new, fragile and staggering and still too volatile to make reaching for the force safe. Hope: maybe the new arrival isn’t one of them. Eldra’s Master was in constant contact with the Temple, after all, and they must know about the ambush by now. They must have sent someone to save Eldra. (She tries very very hard not to remember that they don’t, sometimes, search for missing padawans, because of deferring to a higher purpose and the will of the force and being instruments of the Galactic Senate and not privileging attachments, including to their padawans, over the greater good et cetera et cetera, which is a code of conduct that Eldra, too, had always believed in. Until she got thrown in this cell, at least.)
Please, let it be a Jedi. Even if she gets thrown out for her hatred. Please, let it be a Jedi.
“Get up, girl,” Dilar says.
Eldra struggles onto her feet. She almost loses her balance, and that would kriffing hurt, because she’s got little chance of breaking her fall. Her hands are cuffed in front of her, encased in thin manacles she could easily break out of if it wasn’t pointless. If she wasn’t watched at all times. If she could use the force without Falling. If there was any way off this planet she doesn’t even know the name of. She could break them, but she can’t. They’re tight, and her shoulders ache from the forced immobility. (Almost, she’d told the slavers that restraining someone like this for days on end was a sure way of causing muscle damage, that they were lowering her value—were hurting her, by treating her like this, but she’d reconsidered. It would probably count as ‘helping slavers’. She hopes instead that they lose all their captives to their own bad practices. Eldra will not help them, if it kills her.)
If her visitor is a slaver, they’ll probably enjoy the sight of her helplessness. If they’re a Jedi, there may be compassion, pity, judgment—they’ll feel how scared she is, and how close to breaking—and that’ll be even more embarrassing to deal with afterwards, but at least there will be an afterwards for her.
For a second, the force floods with pain. Anger. Then, the presence hides itself again. Doesn’t matter. She’s felt it.
A force user.
A… Jedi, then?
Would a Jedi… Eldra herself would be angry, if she saw anyone else treated the way she is now, no matter how hard she tries for serenity. Eldra isn’t a good Jedi though. She’s too scared for that.
She looks up. If the visitor is a Jedi, Eldra doesn’t recognize them. But that means nothing: they’re covered head-to-toe in layers of black fabric. They’re wearing some sort of mask that covers their lower face, too, and oversized mirrored-glass sunglasses, and gloves, and a cowled cloak and what looks like at least two shirts, one over the other. They look like a black ball with legs sticking out. They look like someone decided to dress up as the platonic concept of shady. They look ridiculous.
They’re very short as well. They’re about twice the height of Grandmaster Yoda, and shorter than pretty much everybody else that Eldra knows. Well… they could be Master Piell. Would Master Piell dress up like this, though? Would he come to rescue her? Would he… well, he wouldn’t feel like the visitor in the force. Even Piell is a Master of the High Council. He wouldn’t fall prey to emotions as easily as Eldra did. He would not fail the light.
The only bit of skin that Eldra can make out is the bridge of the nose, between the jaw-mask and those sunglasses. Red.
Whoever it is isn’t human.
It might give hope, but—whoever it is has already paid and they own Eldra now, they tell the slavers, in a deep and slightly mechanic voice.
Paid.
Own.
Not a rescue, then. The Jedi wouldn’t reward a slaver for abducting a padawan.
Eldra will not cry. Not because if does not befit a Jedi, because the Jedi didn’t come for her. Eldra remained faithful—barely—she didn’t give in to her hatred and fear, didn’t Fall… and no-one came to rescue her. She will never see the temple again. She’ll never watch those holovids with Bayro, and Bayro—will she even notice? Will she mourn Eldra? Or will she be relieved that the clingy kid is gone?
She won’t cry. She will not give Dilar or this new buyer the satisfaction.
The shielding of Eldra’s cell opens. Dilar attaches a chain to Eldra’s manacles and her buyer ties the other end to their belt. They barely look at her, at least—in the nightmares she refused to allow herself to grow into images they always looked at her, excited and hungry, but this buyer seems curt and weirdly business-like.
Without another word, they start walking.
Eldra has no choice but to follow. The Jedi didn’t come. She is alone. Whatever awaits her outside, though, it can hardly be worse than this cell.
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Teenage Dirtbag
(Cormac x Jeanie)
Warnings: fluff and smut
A/N: Cormac feels bittersweet about his abnormal teenage years, but a tryst at the abandoned O'Keefe's College with Jeanie changes his mind about what never was.
The last of my birthday weekend self-indulgent drabbles. I dug deep and pulled Cormac back to the front of the closet to wear just for today.
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Jeanie inhaled the scent of moss and rain that filled the air around the abandoned boarding school. If it weren't for Cormac, Hannah and Brett this was surely how her own building would end up in a few years. She didn't mind the dynamic it created between her and her boyfriend, or that the purchase was for some ulterior scientific motive. She got to keep the kids and her job, and he got to maintain one of the last untapped portals.
Now they were in Galway where everything started. Or, as Jeanie pointed out once she knew the stories, Cormac’s friends gaslit him for an entire semester.
“That's how comic book villains are born,” she watched as he turned on the power grid and fumbled around with his necklace.
“I suppose,” his catch phrase, “But even Tony Stark created a murder robot. He scrunched his nose and scratched his head in the most adorable way. Then something clicked.
“Tony Stark is a murder robot.”
A calming female voice responded before Cormac had the chance. “Tony Stark is more closely related to a cyborg than a robot. Good morning, Cormac. Jeanie.”
“See how she uses disdain when she speaks to me?! Jarvis doesn't speak like that.”
“Silvia doesn't have disdain for you. She's a computer program.”
Jeanie and Silvia spoke collectively, “I'm an artificial intelligence system.” The schoolteacher pointed at nothing as if to say even they can agree on her being beyond just a program.
“I'm also not female or male, I am a sexless non-binary system. You decided to gender me when you were fourteen years old based on the voice modulation you placed inside of me. I have no body or sexual organs.”
“You just got out Cormac’d!” Jeanie teased as his cheeks grew rosy.
“Come on, I'll show you around.”
----
The next few hours were like visiting a museum of Cormac’s memories. He admitted that he had the ability to go to university much earlier than most anticipated, but he hung around because he actually enjoyed the small group of friends he accumulated his years at O’Keefe’s. Even if his relationship with Martin, the resident Draco Malfoy, was contentious. Even if they were understaffed, underfunded and simply unable to accommodate any real science program. He felt a sense of duty to the school that kept him safe when his Nan could not.
“I could have gone with my mum’s side in Dublin if I wanted. My aunt was just worried what I might just get up to if I did.”
“What, like a criminal?” Jeanie burst into a fit of giggles picturing Cormac in a life of crime. Although.. “That's the Delaneys, right?” Jeanie pondered. “Gordon and I knew some Dublin Delaneys.”
“That's like knowing a Smith.”
They had circled back around to his old dorm room where they had dropped off all their gear for China. Jeanie lingered on the old desk having perched on the corner. Her arms hugged around herself against the draft. Cormac sat comfortably on his old bed stretched out with his arms towards the wall behind him. An aged and browning poster of a full moon above his head.
Jeanie grimaced at the water stains underneath him and tried to hide her disgust. “At least I hope those are water stains,” she joked.
Cormac moved his knees apart and stared down at the bed, “Jaysus, love, what kinda stains d’ye t’ink t’ey are?!”
Jeanie raised an eyebrow. Cormac’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “If you need t’know, I was a shower wanker.”
He was so matter of fact, like he was about everything, Jeanie snorted. Still he made a big production of unpacking his massive sleeping bag and rolling it out along the mattress. He smoothed out the nylon, and presented it to his girlfriend for her to sit down finally.
As Jeanie settled in, Cormac stuffed his hands between his legs and his face flushed. “Do you have a boner right now?! Wait, because I'm on it bed? Is this some.. Puberty regression? AM I THE FIRST GIRL WHO SAT HERE?!” Jeanie couldn't help but squeal.
“NO! Hannah and Tara have sat here loads of times.”
“Yeah, but have you touched their vaginas?”
“JEANIE!”
“CORMAC!”
Jeanie played along and stole a kiss. Her lips pecked his briskly, but then again. They lingered longer so her tongue could sneak just inside his welcoming mouth. She may as well have waged war.
Cormac pushed his own tongue deep inside of his girlfriend’s mouth. As their tongues battled for the upper hand, Jeanie clung to his shirt and laid back on the bed pulling him along with her. She ran her hands under his tee-shirt up his back to dig her nails into his shoulder blades. His forearms on either side of her to prop himself up.
Cormac situated himself inside of Jeanie's legs that drew up alongside his hips. Still fully clothed as they kissed heavily. His belt buckle got trapped by the button of her jeans as they fought to come undressed. Both laughed at the absurdity of acting like horny teenagers simply because they were in a childhood bedroom.
Still, Cormac finally undid Jeanie's pants and tugged them over her hips to her ankles. He was clumsy at the laces of her boots which he gave up on and just yanked off and tossed somewhere in the room. Up on his knees, he threw both shirts he wore over his head. He fumbled with his belt and pants, standing only to strip them off before climbing back on top of Jeanie now in her bra and panties.
The cold air pimpled their flesh, but they ignored it when their kisses commenced. Jeanie’s hands were enmeshed in Cormac’s soft, dark hair. His lips and tongue started to wander to the base of her throat which he nipped and sucked where he could feel her pulse beat under his warm mouth. A brief moment she thought he would bite harder for fun; then he did. All the while he palmed the fabric of her panties in quick succession.
Jeanie’s breath caught at how brazen Cormac was being in broad daylight. Out in the open on top of the sleeping bag instead of in it. The static from portaling that ran through his nerves just under the skin passed on to her. Her brain was too fuzzy with desire to tell if the heat on her sex and clit was from the rapid friction or just the electricity Cormac emitted.
Jeanie couldn't even focus beyond the sensation. Her fingers and hands with a mind of their own drew his boxers down to expose his bare ass to her touch. She used it to draw his no longer secret erection into her entrance. Cormac’s hand and her panties in the way. He happily let her go so he could start pushing into the fabric with the head of his cock. Her ankles locked on his waist so her heels could dig into his lower back. They urged him to rut faster in spite of their underwear.
As klutzy as Cormac was with her jeans and boots, his long fingers were experts at undoing Jeanie’s bra. He kissed her shoulders and arms behind the straps he pulled off to expose her breasts. Breasts his mouth consumed hungrily. His tongue circled and practically inhaled one of her nipples before alternating to the other. He sucked in time to his bucks.
Jeanie deigned to speak, her words punctuated by Cormac’s movements. “I'm.. really..” she moaned “Cold.”
She was, he realized all of a sudden. With more laughter and flourishes, the two managed to zip themselves snug inside the sleeping bag. Jeanie's panties and Cormac’s underwear discarded in the process. Their bodies pressed to each other while his cock pushed into her thigh. The heat was immediate, in more ways than one.
They laid on their sides and faced one another. Cormac’s leg tangled around Jeanie's lower one. Her leg closest to the ceiling wrapped around his hip. Her calf draped along his ass while her hand reached between their bodies and took hold of his shaft. She positioned it just outside her entrance that ached to be filled. All the blood in her body swelled there.
Cormac gazed downwards at her hand, his breathing uncontrolled as Jeanie guided him again inside. Without any more instruction, he thrust inside of her so far and sharply that his pelvis collided with hers. Then he pulled almost completely out and sheathed himself to the hilt again. He repeated this over and over until they found a rhythm. Hips and sexes crashed like meteors with each powered motion.
Jeanie could only hold on. Her nails felt inches deep in Cormac's muscles along his shoulders. she had fleeting thoughts that yesterday wasn't his first time. That he lied perhaps out of embarrassment thinking he was no good.
Except he was, she was out of practice. The last time she had sex this good was.. She didn't want to think of him now. He was gone, Cormac was here. His forehead pressed into her jaw and cheek as he pounded into her. It only just dawned on her his glasses were on, bent at an unnatural angle in the crook of her neck. He didn't like to travel with his contacts in.
At this angle, Cormac hit Jeanie's clit every time he lost himself in her tightening walls. He was silent except for snorts of heavy air like a horse that escaped his nose. Both of them covered in a sheen of sweat until that lightning shot through Jeanie’s body. She coiled and recoiled and drew her boyfriend to her as she came. Cormac’s name echoed off the empty walls.
Not much longer until he did the same with a shudder and a muddled, husky “fuck” in Jeanie's shoulder. Cormac's body trembled which took her aback. Whether it was from the post-orgasm rush, or emotions, she didn't ask. Instead they held onto one another and babbled mindlessly until they fell asleep in the sleeping bag.
It was loud thunder and SILVIA through the old PA system that startled the couple awake.
“Cormac. Jeanie. May I suggest you leave as soon as possible? There is an approaching electrical storm that will surely affect the magnetic field produced by portal travel.”
They rushed to get dressed and repacked. Cormac was annoyed, “If you knew. SILVIA, why the hell didn't you tell me before?”
“Coitus interruptus. Perhaps Ms Turner feels I dislike her, but I can't imagine how much animosity she would display towards me should I interfere with your sexual intercourse. She's already jealous of our long-standing relationship”
Jeanie felt highly uncomfortable at that moment, watched even. Cormac was incensed. “SILVIA.” Then he shut her off, and they were bound for China.
Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @forenschik @slutforrobbiebro @frogs--are--bitches @nightmonsters @bisexualnathanyoung @bwritesstuff @rob-private
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cevans16 · 4 years ago
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Choosing Between Two Loves Part 5 ~ Endgame - 1
Summary: You were a Goddess named (Y/N), who had powers similar to Thor and even stronger, you joined the Avengers back when Loki had tried to take over New York. You were great friends with most of them. Tony Stark was someone you were always in love with even though you knew you could never have him. However that all changes when you get to know a certain super soldier....
“You holding up okay?” you asked Steve, he was about to shave his beard, he didn’t say anything but gave you a slight nod, what more could he do, the Avengers had lost. You guys didn’t just lose the fight but you lost half the population, some that included your friends, you weren’t sure if Tony was one of them. 
You were eating in the kitchen when you heard a rumbling sound coming closer by the second. You saw Steve run out the building, you followed quickly behind. When you walked out, you saw a space ship being lowered onto the grass by someone you hadn’t met. You didn’t let your guard down, at this point it could be one of Thanos’. You were shocked to see the person coming down the ship, it was Tony. It definitely was Tony but a more fragile and skinny one, he looked like a mess. The additional person scared you, it was Nebula, you hadn’t seen her in years. 
‘WAIT, stay right there Nebula!” you shouted at her, she never did anything to you when you were captivated but seeing her brought you back the horrible memories. “(Y/N), he is not here” Nebula assured you, “(Y/N), she saved my life” Tony added. You sighed in relief, walking over to hug him, when you pulled back you saw tears in his eyes, “I lost the kid” he whispered softly, “What? ---Parker?” you asked in disbelief, Tony nodded. 
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You guys were back in the compound, all gathered together, going over what had happened. 
“Tony, do you have anything?” Steve asked him, “Nope, zip, nada”, “At least something” Steve pleaded, “I don’t have ANTYHING for YOU” Tony replied, obviously getting aggravated, Here it goes you thought to yourself. “I NEEDED YOU and you weren’t there, you said we’d lose together, well guess what Rogers, we LOST and you WEREN’T THERE, SO YOU TAKE THIS” Tony said taking off his arc reactor from his chest, “AND YOU BRING IT TO HIM AND YOU RUN!” he continued to yell, next thing you knew Tony dropped straight to the floor. You quickly ran to his side to pick him up gently, “Can’t say I don’t blame him Steve” you said to him. You placed Tony in the bed, waiting for him to wake up again, you left the room to give Pepper and Rhodey some privacy with him.
“Thanos did exactly what he said he would do” Nat explained to you guys in the meeting. You couldn’t believe it, at least this time half of the universe lived, unlike your world which was completely destroyed by Thanos. The girl who had brought the spaceship was named Captain Marvel aka Carol, she claimed she knew people who might know where Thanos was. “Don’t bother, I know where my father is” Nebula said, she explained where he always planned on residing once he had accomplished his mission. You and Thor looked at each other, you knew you had to go immediately, most of the team did. 
--------------------------------------
“Raise you hand if you’ve never been to space?” the racoon named Rocket asked, about four of the team raised their hands, “I haven’t been there in a while” you commented, “Okay, don’t throw up on my spaceship” Rocket stated. You turned to look at Thor, smiling greatly at him, “We got this” you said to him, you were glad to have your best friend back.
When you guys arrived, Carol got out to check the area to see if Thanos had an army, she gave you the green light saying that it was only him. “Then that is enough” Nebula said, you nodded in agreement, you were terrified to face Thanos again.
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You guys walked up to a small cabin, you could hear someone moving around the home. You and Thor walked in behind Nat and Steve, Thor had his storm breaker ready, you had your sword wielded too.
Thanos explained that he had destroyed the stones, he smiled seeing you, seeing chills run down your spine, “I’m not surprised you survived (Y/N), you were always a warrior, created as the best by the gods” he commented, you walked up closer to look him in the eye, “WHERE ARE THE STONES?” you gritted through your teeth, “Like I said, I destroyed them, it nearly killed me”. You took a step back, “My father could be many things but a liar is not one of them” Nebula said. Next thing you knew, Thanos’ head rolled onto your feet, blood splattered on your face, “Sorry (Y/N)” Thor apologized, using his cape to clean your face and then his storm breaker, “It’s okay, you did what I should’ve done a long time ago” you replied. 
FIVE YEARS LATER
Life had been different, very slow. You guys had failed in fighting Thanos and failed again in trying to find the stones. Tony and Pepper had gotten married and had a beautiful daughter named Morgan, you made sure to visit them every month, she called you auntie (Y/N). Thor and you had kept in touch as well, after the incident with Thanos, Thor fell into a deep depression, he practically fell off the grid, you didn’t blame him. In the meantime, the rest of the Avengers and you tried your best to follow any leads, you read constantly about anything science related that could help, it had all been a bust so far until one evening. 
You were in the gym, working out your frustrations, when you heard Nat call you on the intercom to come into the kitchen. You walked in to see Scott Lang, you were surprised since you heard the rumors that he had blipped. He was rambling about where he had been stuck in, talking about being able to maybe travel time. “Anyone know anything about quantum physics?” he asked while stuffing his face with a peanut butter sandwich. You raised your hand while Steve shook his head and Nat said, “Only to make conversation”. Scott and you explained everything you could about quantum physics, “I think we know who we can talk to about this” Steve said turning to you, “I don’t know Steve” you replied, you didn’t want to bring Tony into this, not after he is finally living in peace. 
-----------------------------
You guys were driving over to Tony’s, Scott was in the backseat with you. “Not to sound rude but I was surprised at how much you knew about this stuff” he said to you cautiously. You smiled at him, “I know, what is an 1200 year old goddess supposed to know about this right? I’ve been a friend of the Starks’ for a verrrry long time, I enjoyed learning as much as I could, science really grabs my attention, and when you knew engineers, well it’s not hard not to learn a thing or two. Before all this happened, Banner, Stark and I would usually be cooped up in the lab” you explained. 
You guys finally arrived at Tony and Pepper’s home. You got out of the car to see Tony holding Morgan, she immediately got out of his arms when she spotted you, “Auntie (Y/N)!!!!” she yelled as she ran into your arms. “Hey baby Stark, how are you?” you asked her, giving her a kiss on her temple. You picked her up to take her inside to say hi to Pepper while Nat, Steve, and Scott explained to Tony about the plan, you didn’t want to be a part of it since you knew it was a huge risk. 
“(Y/N)! What a lovely surprise, we were just about to make lunch” Pepper said while giving you a kiss on your cheek. You explained to Pepper about what was going on, she sent Morgan out to get her dad to come inside to eat. “Any new suitors?” Pepper teasingly asked you in the meantime, “I don’t think that will ever happen, no one here lives long enough” you chuckled, “Well you always have Thor” she joked, “He’s my best FRIEND, that would be too weird” you laughed. You guys talked for a bit until you heard Nat call you over to leave. You said your goodbyes and headed back to the compound. You understood why Tony had declined, he had too much to lose. 
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pi-cat000 · 4 years ago
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MSA time travel idea (part 40)
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5, Lewis POV 7
Part 41: here
VIVI POV
It is weird visiting the Pepper’s Diner without Lewis. Vivi has never been the friend with the car so Lewis or Arthur had always picked her up whenever she visited, meaning she’s never been here without at least one of them present.
Now, Vivi stands in the empty car park, trying not to look at the spot on which Arthur had been shot and Lewis had almost bled out. The memories of trying to frantically to help them both while knowing she would only have time to save one come unbidden, crowding at the forefront of her mind. She swallows, trying to shake the image and focus on locating Arthur’s van instead. Even as she scans the empty lot, her thoughts turn away from the task and back to that night.
Lewis had told her to help Arthur. Those had been his last words to her.
Vivi had already been in the process of helping Arthur so it was logical for her to continue.
Arthur was the less injured of the two, so had a better chance of survival.
Arthur was the rational choice.
If her dad hadn’t arrived when he did, then Lewis might have died, blood slowly spreading across the concrete, staining it red. If Mystery hadn’t done whatever weird supernatural thing he’d done to slow their blood loss...she doesn't want to think about it. 
/The rain has washed away any remaining scent. We will have to do a visual search./
Vivi blinks and there is no blood, no Arthur, no Lewis. There is only the silent structure of Pepper Paradiso, windows dark and lifeless. She rubs her hands together to rid them of the sudden chill creeping through her limbs, before folding then under Lewis’s borrowed jacked and hugging her chest.
“Ye…” She takes a shaky breath, “Yeah. I figured. The van can’t have been parked too far away though. It would have been pretty hard to walk around all these rocks and cactus in the pitch black even with a lightning storm overhead.”
/ A reasonable assumption. / Mystery is eyeing with something akin to worry, head tilted to one side.
She ignores him, walking past to scan for any sign of the van. Unlike that night, the sky is clear with a half-moon just peeking above the horizon, casting a faint grey light over the flat landscape. A gentle breeze tugs gently at her hair. The body snatcher wouldn’t have come from the westward side of the diner because she’d been looking out that way at the time, talking on the phone with her dad. Surely, she would have noticed its approach between all the lightning strikes.
“You head that way…maybe thirty feet or so. We’re going to search in a grid around the diner,” She points out to the main road adjacent to the diner, tracing it in the air with a finger to what she thinks is thirty feet, “We’ll work our way out from the road, moving in opposite directions away from the diner. Let me know when you find it.”
Mystery nods a confirmation but doesn’t move off immediately, opting to instead watch her with increasing concern. Vivi deliberately turns away from him, moving out from the building and off the concrete, picking her way across the uneven landscape, pulling out her phone for additional light.  Eventually, she hears the click of Mystery’s claws as he begins his search, jumping from rock to rock and disappearing amongst the low desert shrubs. Vivi lets her shoulders slump, all the stress and activity of the past few days finally catching up to her, weighing on her.  She shakes herself and pulls the jacket tight. With her phone’s dim flashlight barely providing enough light to see her own feet, it’s hard to avoid tripping over rocks and dips in the ground. It may look flat, but the desert is full of indents and holes. On the bright side, the rough terrain meant the van was probably closer to the road because there was no way anyone could drive very far across this. 
If the van is even out here at all. 
Doubt curls in her gut. 
What if she’d wrong about this too?
Across the darkened landscape the moon finally makes it fully over the horizon line. A new chill descends as the last of the day’s heat evaporates into the night. Vivi persists, continuing until the diner has faded into an outline. Nothing jumps out at her as being strange. It’s just empty in all directions.
/I have found it./
When Mystery finally calls an end to the search Vivi’s eyes are hurting with the strain of squinting.
“Where?”
Mystery’s telepathic projections don’t have a huge range so he must be nearby. She turns, twisting around to scan the darkness. A flash of white fur catches the moonlight. Mystery nimbly leaps over an outcropping of cactus in her direction, pausing to motion with a paw back the way he’d come.
/This way./
They make their way slowly back in the direction of the highway before turning to walk parallel to the road. A car flashes by, momentarily blinding her and she stops to blink away the bright splotches which briefly overtake her vision. The walk feels doubly long with how tied she’s becoming. 
Finally, Mystery turns back into the desert, following a sloping incline downward into a ditch where she spots a familiar orange rectangle. No wonder no one had found the van yet. Unless you were searching specifically for it, it would be almost impossible to see from either the diner or the highway.
Vivi exhales a long, hard breath of pure relief, hurrying to overtake Mystery.
Slowly, she circles the van, stretching up to shine her phone-light through the front window and into the shadowed interior. The seats of the van appear normal. There is an empty fast food bag and it looks like someone has tipped the glove compartment onto the ground. She peers further in, noting that their camping gear is no longer in neat piles but messy and scattered about. Nothing stands out as human-body shaped. She steps away.
“No dead bodies,” She tells Mystery, watching him finish his own circuit of the van, sniffing, eyes narrow.
/I smell blood. Quite a bit of it. The stench of that abomination is also strong./
“You can smell the body snatcher? Wouldn’t it just smell like Arthur?” Vivi questions even as she begins trying all the van’s doors in the hope that one is unlocked.
/These creatures are unnatural and they always leave behind aberrations. I suppose ‘smell’ is the wrong word. It would be more akin to recognising energy residue. Most spiritual energy does not originate from the physical plane. Thus, it always leaves behind some sort of stain./
Vivi rubs her forehead. She has questions. Of course, she has questions. Anytime Mystery says anything related to the supernatural she is left with only questions. Vivi files the information away for future contemplation, distracted when the van’s back doors open unexpectedly.
Both her and Mystery pause and glance at each other. 
Cautiously, she pulls it fully open and peers in. The first thing she notes is Arthur’s keyring, sitting discarded atop a mess of upturned boxes and camping gear. It looks like it had been tossed aside without thought or care. Arthur always took good care of the van’s keys, carrying them on him at all times, so it immediately strikes her as odd. But then, it isn’t only Arthur that they're dealing with.
“Weird,” She mutters, reaching to pick them up.
/Do not touch that./
She freezes, hand hovering. Mystery leaps up into the van, knocking over an open container of cooking utensils which rattle out onto the rocks, clanking off the hard surface. He sniffs the keys, huffing with disgust.
/It is covered in blood. It has a similar scent to that car. Also, I fear I smell Lance’s blood here as well…/ Mystery flicks the keys with his nose so they clatter to the ground at her feet, turning to clamber around the van, snuffling as he goes.
“Lance’s blood…” Vivi repeats, stomach sinking. There’s a lot of dirt -which probably isn’t dirt- covering the pocket knife Arthur has attached to his keys. Blood.
/Hmmm…this does not appear promising./ Mystery pops out of the van again, holding a piece of cloth in his teeth. He jumps free and drops the fabric onto the ground next to the keyring. She bends to pick it up, pinching a corner so she can lift it without touching anything. It’s one of Arthur’s shirts, apricot in colour, and splattered with darkened brown stains. More blood. She thinks she recognises the shirt as the one he had been wearing at the motel.  
/Whoever this second individual is, their smell is all over the van./
Vivi frowns, clenching her fist. “Do you think they’re dead?”
/Most likely./
“…Shit…”
She tosses the shirt back into the van, bending to pick up the keyring, carefully detaching the keys before throwing the pocketknife after the shirt. She slams the doors, breathing heavily, hands resting on the metal. She rides out a sudden wave of nausea threatening her merger lunch. So there had been a third person involved. Probably, this person was someone Arthur knew. Arthur had most likely been an unwilling accessory to the murder of someone he knew. That's not counting being forced to attack his uncle. Poor Arthur. She can’t even imagine what it must have been like. If only she’d got to him faster. If only she’d gone out to help him after Arthur’s fight with Lewis back at the motel. If she’d been with him that morning then she could have stopped him from running off to check his uncle all alone. Instead,  she’d decided to stay and console Lewis first. The wrong decision. She’d failed them both.
/Arthur would not have been able to stop this violence. These parasitic creatures are masters of all forms of manipulation./
“I’m not…I wouldn’t blame Arthur. Never,” She hisses.  Herself on the other hand….
/Neither is it your fault./ Mystery continues as if reading her mind /You could not have known. I should have been the one to act. I suspected foul play long before it was confirmed./
“You’re the family pet. I’m his best friend. I should have done something sooner.” Her voice sounds uncharacteristically hash even to her own ears. She ignores how Mystery grimaces.
“Whatever. Doesn’t matter now. I need to get rid of this evidence or Arthur’s going to get caught up in whatever ongoing investigation spawns when the police realise that whoever owned that other car is missing.” She still doesn’t know who this person is, and she doesn’t particularly care. Arthur would care probably. She didn’t.  Whether they were an employee of Kingsman Mechanics, a friend of Lance’s, some Tempo resident, it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was keeping Arthur as safe as possible with what little ability she had and if that meant destroying evidence then so be it.
She takes a breath, energised now she’s sure of her next move.
“We can’t leave the van here. Luckily, no one’s found it yet but we can’t count on that to continue.” As she speaks, she walks back around to the front seat, key in hand. Mystery follows. “There’s a ton of evidence here. Blood splatters, hair fibres, fingerprints. That’s not including Arthur’s pocketknife as a possible murder weapon.”
/You plan to hide the van./
“No. Not good enough. I don’t want this to come back and bite us later.”
She’s done making bad choices. Vivi starts up the engine and the van jerks rattling like it needs some proper maintenance. Arthur would have never let it get into such a state. She ignores the pang of guilt, driving recklessly over the rocks, dirt and sand and back onto the road. For what she has planned, the van wouldn’t need to be in any sort of drivable condition for much longer
“We’ll burn it,” She elaborates once they are back on the highway.  “That way, even if it is found, no one will be able to tie it to any missing person case resulting from that thing controlling Arthur. In theory anyway...”
She knows a place that is secluded enough that she would probably be able to get away with setting the van on fire and not draw a ton of attention. A place where she could leave it and not have it immediately discovered. Somewhere that wasn’t so far away meaning it would be possible for her to walk back to the diner with Mystery after she was done.
“Can you cast an illusion big enough to hide the flames?” She is sure she’s acting overly paranoid now but better safe than sorry. Though secluded, the area she’s thinking of is still in view of the road.
/I will have to transform to expand my illusion's range./
“Right.” Vivi glances at Mystery who’s taken his usual position beside her in the front. The concern is still creasing his expression and she quickly refocuses on the road. The last time she had seen Mystery’s kitsune form had been that night. Not a pleasant memory. The sight of Mystery looming over Lewis, all teeth and raw natural fury, glowing bright against an almost black backdrop, had been a constant in the recent spate of nightmares which had spawned from the event. Not that she had slept enough to have many nightmares.
The rest of the trip is silent and, in-between bouts of nervous energy, Vivi can almost pretend she is back with Arthur and Lewis, checking out some new local ghost sighting, laughing and joking. It is a short-lived reprieve as she is quickly turning into the small clearing, sandwiched between rock formations and overlooking a three-meter drop into a small ravine. Supposedly, the area was haunted by some disgruntled cattle rustler, run afoul of the law, chased into the ravine during ye-oldie times.  She feels silly thinking back on how serious she’d taken that investigation. 
“Was any of this stuff anywhere near real?” She asks, driving the van as close the edge as possible.
/ I believe most occurrences of the supernatural, as humans understand it, are merely echoes of past interference./  Mystery scans the cliffs, /If there was any otherworldly influence here, it has long faded./
“I guess that makes sense.” She mutters, distracted as she eyes the vegetation around her. It is sparse, so she doesn’t think it’ll be much of a fire hazard.
“You’ll be able to stop this from spreading and starting any other fires, right?”
Mystery hums to himself and begins to glow. Particles of light cling to his coat like dust motes, fading into the air around him. Unlike that night, the transformation is smooth, air shimmering and flowing over his physical form like water as he expanded to take up more space. Five tails fan out, splitting away from each other, opening like the petals of a flower before swaying languidly from side to side in an almost hypnotic pattern. 
/In this form I can stifle the flames if they become too much or contain the fire within a barrier./
Her breath catches and she nods stiffly, barely hearing him, too focused on how Mystery’s eyes flash bright red when he speaks. Bright, brilliant, red. Her hesitation is spotted and Mystery lowers head and tails, making himself smaller.
/I frighten you?/
Maybe it’s the lack of life-threatening conditions but Mystery's presence is not as dominating as it had been that night. There is less force behind his voice. Less raw anger. Even his tails seam to sag like they are taking on too much weight.
/I am sorr…/
“Save it…” She interrupts what was sure to be another in a long line of empty apologies, “Just… stand a bit over there, okay.”
Mystery seems to deflate further, wilting like a dying plant wanting for rain. The anxiety in her chest loosens ever so slightly.
With only the slightest hint of further hesitation, she begins riffling through the van's camping gear, pulling out a small jerrycan of fuel and dumping it out over the vehicle's interior. Next, she’s digging around for the fire starters and any spare lighter fluid to increase flammability. Out comes the blue zippo lighter with cool snowflake patterning.  She holds it indecisively, flipping it open. The small flame dances, bright in the night-time. Funnily, this will be the first time she uses this lighter. First and last.
This was it. Goodbye van. The van that had been a feature of her friendship with Arthur and Lewis for almost as long as she’d known them.
"Sorry Arthur.”  Another apology for the collection.  
She throws the lighter through the van’s open back doors. The fuel catches and flames spring up, spreading quickly. Soon, long tongues of fire are licking at the windows. A series of small cracks appear in the glass, spiderwebbing out. The heat is intense and she backs away so as not to accidentally burn herself. Sounds of snapping and popping echo in the ravine, the noise trapped by the rocks and cliffs.  Vivi watches the interior of the van blacken, metal reddening and warping. Dark smoke twists upward and disappears into the night.
.
Note: An update in honour of the new MSA: Future :) Enjoy!
Part 41: here
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imagineaworlds · 4 years ago
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I Love You (Part Thirty-Nine) -- Aaron Hotchner
Written By: @desperately-bisexual
Request: None.
Warnings: Light smut!! I don’t think anything gets out of hand in this chapter. Talk of BDSM, Dom/sub relationship, etc. I think that’s it? SAVE YOUR SIMPING FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! The black box is coming. Good lord...
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader
Word Count: 11527
Timeline: One month after part thirty-eight.
A/N: Posting this wayyyy early because @ thomassgolfball on TikTok posted a Greg Montgomery edit for me, so I’m in a great mood!
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The weekend of our wedding was chaotic, to say the least. On Friday, the boys (including Morgan, Reid, Rossi, and Anderson) stole Aaron away for a bachelor party who knew where. It happened as we were walking to our car after work. We stepped out of the building together, hand in hand, having just finished saying goodbye to the security team in the lobby. We barely stepped off the sidewalk when Rossi approached from behind us, a car pulled up in front of us, the door back door opening, and Rossi rushed to get Hotch into the car. I sighed and yelled at Morgan, who was sitting in the driver’s seat, to not let Aaron get into too much trouble. And then they sped off.
I shook off the smile on my face and continued to our car a few rows back in the parking lot. From a distance, I saw Emily leaning against the hood of the car. Well, the boys had stolen Hotch off for a boy’s weekend, and it seemed that the girls were stealing me off for a bachelorette party. I held my hands up in surrender. Next thing I knew, Emily was wearing a smirk as she handcuffed my left wrist to her right wrist. She didn’t release me until we arrived at a spa retreat out in the middle of nowhere in Virginia. It was Garcia’s idea.
“Tada!” Garcia cheered, her arms stretched into the air, her fingers jazz-dancing. “Do you like it?”
I rubbed my wrist as the handcuff fell off. “I love it.”
“Good, because we’re here until Sunday afternoon,” Emily whispered in my ear.
Because Hotch and I were in such a rush to get married on our anniversary, which was on a Monday, we had to make sure that the BAU got a long weekend, that Jack’s school was aware he wouldn’t be in class, and that everyone else we were inviting (friends and family) knew that they would have to miss some work. The good news was that all of Hotch’s friends were prosecutors and Bureaucrats, so it was fairly easy to get them out of work. When we told the Director that we were getting married, he insisted that we invite him and give him the list of Bureaucrats we were inviting so that he could ensure that they got that Monday off. As for who I was inviting, the list was pretty limited since my friends were all in the FBI, and the one person from my past that I would’ve considered inviting was off the grid. She did that a lot. So, we kept it small. It was going to be lavish, but small. And that was okay. I didn’t need a big, ostentatious wedding. I just needed my future husband, the team, and my parents. But Hotch needed everyone to know that he was marrying me.
When we found out that the team was planning on kidnapping us for separate weekend-long celebrations, Hotch and I started talking in the roundtable room as the team was filing in about how we wanted the night before the wedding all to ourselves. We tried playing it cool by stopping when someone would enter the room; but we knew that they were listening. So, when Emily told me that we were leaving the spa retreat on Sunday afternoon, I was relieved. Hotch and I were going to have Sunday night all to ourselves. Wonderful.
Sunday didn’t matter when we were out at that retreat, though. We spent Friday night in a jacuzzi together, sipping on wine and gossiping. Unfortunately, I had to stop drinking because it was upsetting my stomach, but Garcia seemed to drink for me. JJ and I laughed at her when she downed the glass I couldn’t finish. When we were all pruning, we went inside the cabin the girls all contributed to renting at the retreat for the weekend. We slid into pajamas, grabbed a bunch of blankets, and we laid on the floor in the living room, a fresh log fire beside us. JJ was responsible for bringing the shitty snacks. Since this was supposed to be a “healthy spa”, they didn’t necessarily supply snacks like Cheetos, chips, chocolate, etc. JJ already had most of that laying around at home because of Henry, so she told Emily and Garcia that she would bring the food, and that she did. Since Garcia was drinking for me, and Emily was trying to catch up to her, I stuck to the chocolate.
Time passed by so fast. I didn’t even get tired. We all crashed in the early hours of the morning, but all I could do was smile up at the ceiling while listening to Garcia snore. I was happy. My wedding was approaching, and I was with a handful of the people I loved most on planet Earth. I didn’t need anything else… Except a massage. Thankfully, my wish was granted, because, when I was woken up by Emily, we headed for breakfast at the meal hall, then went to the spa cabin where Garcia had scheduled our massages. Garcia was hungover, of course. Getting her to the meal hall was hard enough, but dragging her out of the spa once our hour long massages were done was a near impossible task.
By the time lunch came around, Garcia was passed out in the bed she had claimed as hers when we first arrived. JJ, Emily, and I gave up on her. We decided to get lunch without her, then, when we were done, we were going to watch a movie in the cabin.
The biggest bed in the cabin was a California King that Emily and I were supposed to share. However, the three of us managed to sit—or, in my case, lay—comfortably on the bed while watching Pride and Prejudice, which was JJ’s idea.
“If Hotch doesn’t say something as romantic as that on Monday,” Emily said after Mr. Darcy had proclaimed his love for Elizabeth for the first time, “then I’m pulling you off the altar, and I’m going to marry you myself.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” I answered, playing along with her tease.
I fell asleep before the movie ended. When I woke up, I saw that Emily and JJ had fallen asleep, too, but they were wrapped in each other’s arms. I eyed them suspiciously for a moment before rolling out of bed to head to the bathroom. I really shouldn’t’ve eaten that much chocolate last night. My stomach was killing me, and I blamed it all on the snacks JJ brought.
“Y/N,” Emily’s voice followed a knock on the door, “are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just under the weather.”
“Nerves?”
“Or chocolate.”
She laughed. “Okay. Well, Garcia’s up, and she’s hungry, so we’re going to head to the meal hall, if you want to join us.”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
“We’ll check on you when we come back.”
They technically never got that chance because I fell back asleep soon after they left. It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend, and I was certainly taking them up on the opportunity. Considering Hotch and I were going to have the night before the wedding to ourselves, then our entire honeymoon, and then the rest of our lives… I knew I was going to be restless for a while. Besides, sleep was good. With our busy schedules, we hardly got a weekend to just relax. I liked that I got to spend all of this time with the girls, then sleep as much as I wanted, and I could rinse and repeat that cycle until Sunday afternoon.
And I did. By the time Sunday afternoon came around, I packed up my bag (the one Emily had packed for me without my knowing on Friday when she left for her lunch break), and we headed home. Garcia was not allowed to drive. She and I slept most of the drive home, my house being the first stop.
“Don’t let him leave any hickeys,” Emily warned as I got out of the car.
I chuckled. “No hickeys, must have a speech superior to Mr. Darcy’s, and…”
“And no breaking your heart. Ever.”
“And no breaking my heart. Got it. I’ll let him know.”
“Have fun,” JJ teased with a sing-song voice. “We’ll pick you up tomorrow!”
“Bye, my loves.”
“Bye…” Garcia groaned.
The three of us laughed at her before I waved to them while they slowly traveled down the neighborhood’s street. When they turned out of sight, I headed up to the house, unlocked the door, turned off the alarm, then headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. My stomach had stopped hurting, but now I had a raging headache. I swore then and there that if I was sick on our wedding day, I was going to call every single person invited in order to tell them that the wedding was off before leaving to elope with Hotch.
“You’re back,” Hotch noted happily as he stepped into the kitchen.
“Headache,” I pointed to my temple.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll get you a Motrin.”
“Wait—”
“What?”
I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards me. “I love you.” I jumped up on my toes and kissed him gingerly. “How was your weekend?”
“I don’t think Morgan understands that strip clubs aren’t my thing.”
“It was more for them than you.”
“I know.”
“You got a lap dance, though, right?” I questioned with a grin.
“No!” he defended.
“Why not?” I pouted at him and played with the hem of his V-neck. “It would have been fun for you.” I ran my hands over his chest. “Wasn’t that the point of your weekend?”
Hotch wrapped his arms around my waist. “The only person I want to ever look at or touch is you.” He kissed me. “So, how ‘bout a lap dance—”
“Headache,” I reminded him.
“You’re a tease.”
“I know. Sir.”
He laughed and kissed my forehead gently to help heal my headache, then he left to get me a Motrin, like he promised. I made my way to the living room. Since Jessica must have been in on the weekend plans, Jack was spending the weekend at her house. We didn’t have to worry about looking after a kid for at least another two weeks because we were leaving for our honeymoon on Tuesday, and because Monday would be our wedding night… Well, Jessica had offered to just look after him until we got back from our vacation. No kid, just us. As much as I loved Jack, I also loved the idea of just getting to spend a lot of one-on-one time with Aaron. If we had met at a different point in our lives, a point where he didn’t have a kid, and might not have ever been married to Haley, then it was possible that Hotch and I would have done everything the classic, boring way. Date for a few years, get engaged, stay engaged for at least a year, then get married, go on vacation, then have a kid. That would have left us with years of alone time. But since we had Jack to look after—not that I minded that one bit— everything was backwards; and with the chaos and tragedy in our lives, we were in a rush to be the classic, boring, nuclear family.
Mom, dad, and kid. That was everyone’s dream, right? The big house, the perfect family, and maybe even a pet to make everyone happy. But we already had the big house and the perfect family. All that was left to do now was make it all official with the wedding certificate and the rings on our fingers. I’d be content at that point.
“Motrin, a heating pad, a blanket, and your favorite pillow,” Hotch said, entering the room with full hands.
I craned my neck to watch him walk around the back of the couch. “You’re amazing.” I took the Motrin from him as he sat down. “Thank you, baby.”
“Of course.”
Hotch shook out the blanket before laying it over my body, then plugged in the heating pad so that I could rest it on the back of my neck. By the time he had me situated, I was already relaxed. When he sat down beside me, he put my favorite pillow on his lap, a silent signal that he wanted me to lay down on him so that he could play with my hair until I could fall asleep.
“I know that this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when we were talking about spending the night together,” I said apologetically. “I’m sorry.” He shushed me. “I haven’t been feeling well all weekend. It’s my own damn fault for eating that chocolate.”
“You’re here. That’s all that matters to me.”
I closed my eyes in response to the comforting feel of his fingers combing through my hair. When we had been talking about spending this night together, I imagined that I’d be tied to the bed with Hotch between my legs, torturing me endlessly. This was nice, though, like he said. It wasn’t imperative for us to have sex in order to be intimate. Yeah, it didn’t suck, but we were going to have plenty of time to tie each other up and fuck each other until we couldn’t breathe. Hell, we had our whole lives to do that. For now, I enjoyed just lying down on his lap, curled under a blanket, falling asleep as he massaged my scalp to ease my headache.
----
Monday morning, I woke up in our bed upstairs, Hotch cuddled up against my back. I smiled and kissed his knuckles. Hotch shuffled behind me as he was coaxed awake by my touch. Telling by the time, JJ, Emily, and Garcia were going to pick me up soon, but I didn’t want to leave our bed just yet. I was excited to get to the venue, but I was also fine where I was. Maybe we could just get married in bed.
“Good morning, my love,” he whispered groggily in my ear.
I hummed. “Good morning.”
“Is your headache gone?”
“Yeah. Did you carry me up here?”
“We fell asleep on the couch, and I woke up around seven, so I decided to bring you up here instead of leaving you down there.”
“Thank you.” I rolled over and kissed him, our eyes still shut. “I’m sorry, again, for last night.”
“Don’t be.”
“We could…” my hands drifted down his chest, “do something now…”
He moaned and tensed under my touch. “I thought we have to leave soon to get ready.”
“We’ll make enough time…”
“Not enough time for the black box, though.”
“We’ll just take it with us on the honeymoon.”
He grabbed my chin roughly. “Mmm… so, you want to be ruined for two weeks straight?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Hotch rolled on top of me, kissing me so roughly I couldn’t move or breathe. “Screaming my name and cumming for me over and over again?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’re always so needy for me.”
“Only for you, Sir—” I groaned with annoyance when my phone started ringing on my bedside table. “Just ignore it.” I grabbed his face to make him kiss me again. When the call went to voicemail, Hotch rolled his hips against mine, letting me feel how hard he was getting. “Sir…” And then the doorbell rang. “No,” I groaned again.
Hotch leaned back. “I think it’s time to go.”
“Can’t they wait?” I asked, running my index finger over the outline of his erection through his pajama pants. He moaned and fell forward. “Please?” The doorbell rang again, but this time, it didn’t stop. It kept ringing over and over again until it got annoying. “I’m going to fucking kill them.”
“You have to go.”
“I don’t want to yet.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours when you come down the aisle. Aren’t you excited for that?”
I nodded. “But what about you?” I asked, referencing his erection.
“I’ll handle it. You’ll have two weeks to make it up to me.”
I pouted, then kissed him again. “She’s not going to stop ringing the doorbell,” I said, rolling out of bed. Hotch sighed, falling onto his back, his hand snaking under the waistband of his pants to palm himself. I rubbed my thighs together at the sight. “I’m going to kill Emily Prentiss,” I said to myself.
When I opened the front door, Emily was snatching her hand away from the doorbell on the doorframe. She smiled innocently. I told her that I needed to change into something comfortable, then I would meet them in the car.
I was not responsible for my dress, my shoes, my jewelry, or anything of the sort. My mom was responsible for making sure all of that arrived at the venue on time. My job was to show up. That was it. I made it very clear to everyone that those who were showing up to the venue early had a responsibility. If something were to go wrong, it had to make it up a chain of command before getting to me. If something couldn’t be handled by JJ or Penelope, then it made its way to Emily, my maid of honor (since I didn’t have anyone else coming that I was as close to. She was one of my partners in the field, so it only made sense to ask her to do it.) If Emily couldn’t handle it, my mom probably could. If, by some off chance, my mother couldn’t take care of it, then it could become my problem. Other than that, I just wanted to sit in the bridal suite. I wanted to get ready in peace, have fun with my friends for a few hours before the ceremony, and talk with my mom. That was it. If anything or anyone were going to bother me, I was going to be pissed. I didn’t want to be a bridezilla, but it was reasonable for me to request an entire day off, alright.
Hotch was cleaning himself up in the shower while I got dressed in one of his college hoodies and a pair of leggings. Before I could even hear him start washing his hair, I was out the door and in the car with JJ, Garcia, and Emily again. Garcia seemed much better than the last time I saw her. She wasn’t completely out of it, which was a plus, considering I wanted her to be there for the day. Besides, if she showed up still hungover, I think I would be in more trouble than her when Morgan would have found out.
When we arrived at the venue, JJ parked to the side so that the vendors could move about freely within the parking lot; then, when they were done setting up inside, there would just be more space for the guests to park. We had found this amazing, quaint place that was surprisingly cheap. The building itself almost looked like a warehouse—but it was all sandstone brick and glass. It was one floor, but the walls were ridiculously tall, and the glass ceiling inside in some of the rooms made it feel only that much bigger. The set up of the building inside was like a square donut. There was the main lobby when we first walked in, but just behind that was a hallway on either side of the front desk, and just between those two hallways was a glass door that led to the huge open-air courtyard where a vendor was setting up all of the foldable white chairs for the guests during the ceremony.
Garcia pulled me down the left hallway before I could stare at the courtyard for too long. The left side of the building, for our purposes, was reserved as the bride’s suite. Meanwhile, the right side was for the boys. My mom was adamant about Hotch not seeing me at all after leaving our house up until the ceremony. All of the superstitions about a groom seeing the bride in her dress before the actual wedding had tricked my mother into thinking that if Aaron happened to waltz into the wrong room, I’d topple over and die right then and there. So, he was supposed to stay away. The boys had the entire right side of the donut, and the girls had the left side. It was fair enough.
When we stepped into one of the large rooms that had been designated as the suite itself, I saw my mom standing in front of a tall clothing rack where my dress was hanging. She was fussing with it. If there was even one wrinkle, my mother snuffed it out. She was going to do whatever it took to make sure that dress looked good, even if it killed her sanity. But, she stopped for a moment when she heard the door open, and she turned to see that it was us, and she smiled.
“Finally,” she cheered, flinging her arms around me.
I hugged her back. “Hi, Mom.”
“You look pale.”
“I wasn’t feeling well yesterday.”
“What is it?” She released me from our embrace. Her motherly worry was plastered to her face, and she’s trying to figure out what was wrong with me before I could even respond.
I shook my head. “Chocolate and nerves. It’s nothing, Mom.”
“Well, we’ll just cover it all up with makeup, anyhow.” She pointed to the makeup artist and hair stylist that were getting their things set up to the side. “Don’t even worry about it.” She peered over my shoulder to look at the girls. “Champagne and snacks are on the table over there,” she pointed to the left, “hair and makeup will call each of you over one at a time,” she pointed back at the two women who were still getting set up, “and then your dresses are hanging over there,” she pointed to the right where a clothing rack on wheels was holding up the dresses they bought—since Hotch and I weren’t exactly doing the whole bridesmaids and groomsmen thing.
If it were up to my mother, we would have had a much bigger and extravagant celebration with a wedding party and everything, but I argued against it. The compromise was that my mom could pay for ridiculous things like champagne and snacks, while I got to decide that the ceremony would be small, short, and easy. So, my mom offered to pay for the girls’ dresses and the guys’ tuxes, as long as I got to stay adamant about not having matching dresses and having them walk down the aisle before me. My mom was fine with that.
“The bride goes last,” Mom continued. “So, just sit down and relax for a bit, baby.” She gestured to the two large couches over by the champagne and snacks, silently telling us to sit down and stay out of the way until we were called up to do something important.
I threw my hands up in surrender. There was really no point in fighting my mother about all of this, especially on an important day like my wedding. She was a… controlling woman. Elle got that from her. My mother liked knowing that everything was perfect and that she could handle it all herself, and if I got in the way by arguing, I was going to lose that fight. Not that I even wanted to try. Like I said, I wanted to lay back and relax. I was going to keep my feet up until I had to get into my dress and walk down the aisle towards Hotch, and then, I’d crash again.
“Want any?” JJ asked, holding up the bottle of champagne for me to see the offer. I shook my head. She cocked a brow at me, eyes searching all of me for answers. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” Garcia asked worriedly.
I shook my head. “Of course not.” I sat down abruptly. “I’m just nervous.”
“What’s there to be nervous about?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted with a laugh.
The four of us reclined, but the three of them kept chatting while I sat by, watching as they drank champagne. There wasn’t a reason to be nervous. I knew that. Of course I knew that. I loved Aaron, he loved me, and we wanted to get married more than anything. This had been our dream for a few years, but it never worked out for one reason or another. But, finally, the timing worked out. Finally, there was nothing standing in our way… and yet, I was still panicking. I didn’t doubt that this was the right thing to do and that we would be happy together. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was that really had me all wound up.
And then my mom whistled lightly from the doorway. Growing up, that was her call to me and Elle whenever we were out in public and she needed us to be by her side and behaving within an instant. I’d recognize that whistle anywhere. It was like saying: “Mom needs you now, and if you don’t come over here, she’s going to be mad.” So, I pushed myself to my feet and headed to the door,
“What is it?” I asked. “Is it Aaron?”
My mom chuckled at my panic. “No. He’s okay. Your dad’s giving him a hard time, but he’s okay, I promise. I need to show you something, though.” She grabbed my hand and snuck me out of the room before anyone could notice because the girls’ attention was on Garcia, who was sliding into her dress now. I followed my mom with a hesitant stride. “Come on, it’s a good surprise, Y/N.”
“I don’t understand—Shouldn’t I be getting into my dress?”
“In a minute. You’ll want to see this first.” She opened the back door of the venue, leading us into the alleyway. I cocked a concerned brow at my mother. “There.” She pointed, and I followed her gaze.
There was a figure standing in the shadows, hiding their face under the hood they were wearing, and their figure was hidden under all of the layers. It didn’t make any sense. Who the hell was that? Why would my mother risk bringing me out here? I tried asking my mom, but she only pushed me forward as an encouragement. I rolled my eyes and walked a few more steps towards the stranger.
And then I stumbled to a halt. Her face was familiar, like I had only seen her just yesterday, but everything else about her was different. Her hair, her style, her posture, even the way she did her makeup. She was half a stranger, half a reminder of home and family. A shuddered breath left my lips.
“Elle…”
When I saw her smile back at me and open her arms for a hug, I ran to her and crashed against her chest. Her arms wrapped around me tightly. I hugged her waist, squeezing her until she tapped on my shoulder for me to release.
“What are you doing here? I didn’t know how to invite you—”
“Mom sent me the invite,” Elle answered. I smiled against her shoulder and squeezed harder. She laughed at how she couldn’t breathe now. “I had to see you.”
“Wait ‘til I tell Aaron and Derek; they’ll be so excited!”
Elle suddenly pushed me out of our hug so that I could see her stern face. “You can’t tell anyone I was here, Y/N.”
“What?”
“Especially Hotch.”
“What are you talking about?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want you to worry about it.” She grabbed my hands before making me spin around in a small circle for her. “Look at you!”
I wasn’t fooled, however, by her attempt to distract me from what was really going on. All this time, I didn’t know why she left, where she went, what she was doing, and I certainly didn’t think anyone had contact with her, let alone my parents. When I thought about inviting her, I tried calling her old phone number, which had been disconnected. When I tried her email, it didn’t go through. And when I asked my parents if they knew anything, they said that they would handle it. Of course, I didn’t understand what that meant at the time. But now that my sister was standing in front of me for the first time in two and a half years, I thought I would want to be happy and distracted with her, but now I just wanted answers. So, I asked. All of these burning questions that had been churning in my head over the past few years finally spewed out of me. There was nothing I could do to stop or control it. There was just so much, yet so little time.
Elle looked at the ground and kicked a pebble around. “It was just in everyone’s best interest if I left,” she finally said. That wasn’t a real answer. We both knew that it wasn’t enough for me, yet… I didn’t fight. It was the weirdest thing. For once, when it came to Elle, I didn’t pry. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N.” She looked up at me and smiled. It wasn’t faux or forced. It was a genuine smile that she always wore.
I couldn’t believe I almost forgot how much her smile made my day, and how her laugh was like music to my ears, and how much I just fucking missed her. She had been gone so long, she had turned into a distant memory in the back of my mind. Now that she was there, however, everything was returning to me like she hadn’t been gone even a day.
“You’re not going to come in; are you?” I questioned, my smile fading. Hers disappeared, too. “Morgan and Reid miss you a lot. I know they would really love to just see you one more time—”
“Y/N, I can’t. I made promises to people, and I made promises to myself. This part of my life is behind me.”
“So, then, what are you doing with your life?”
“Traveling. A lot.”
I smiled. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling back. “I always wanted to get out and see the world, you know that.”
Actually, no, I didn’t know that. Elle had a very specific idea as to what her life would look like, and I knew what those plans were because it was practically the same dream I had for myself, too. Because of her dad, she wanted to become a cop, so she did. Because of my dad, I wanted to join the FBI, so I did. There was never any mention of getting out to see the world. How could we afford to go traveling all the time when our careers always came first to everything else? She had been doing so well for herself in Seattle, and then she joined the BAU. Things were really working out for her. Yet, the one time she decided to travel outside of the country for vacation, her entire life fell apart. One would think that experience would have stayed her secret urge to travel. However, it didn’t. I couldn’t blame her, though, for wanting to get out and travel the world, if that was really what she wanted, and if she was happy doing it—and it seemed like she was really happy. That was all I ever wanted for her. So, I didn’t argue.
“What have you been doing while traveling?” I asked. The FBI paid well, but not well enough to travel and spend money for the rest of her life without working.
“Oh, you know…” she trailed off. I shook my head because I didn’t know. She was being awfully vague and awkward. Maybe it was just the fact that we hadn’t talked in so long, so there was a disconnect; but we had gone decades without talking while she was working sex crimes in Seattle and I was stuck in Quantico. This was no different than that. So, what gave? “Partying and boys, mostly.”
I squinted at her. “You’re not working at all?”
“I don’t need to. I keep a pretty low profile while I’m out there.”
“Someone’s coming,” Mom hissed from the back door of the venue just down the alley.
When I turned to give her an acknowledging nod, I suddenly felt Elle crash into me for another hug. She wasn’t a big hugger. In fact, Elle struggled most times with any kind of affection. I was pretty sure that it stemmed from the fact that she lost her father, her favorite person, when she was really young, and she didn’t know how to cope with that loss. Our mom wasn’t a very affectionate person either, which was possibly where Elle got it from, but it also made sense that Mom didn’t know how to console and love Elle the same way her dad, which was just another disconnect to the idea of affection for her. But there were moments like these where Elle would find courage within herself to show her love for me. A hug was so small. Jack and Hotch hugged me all the time. Morgan and Emily hugged me all the time. I was a big hugger. Not Elle, though. That was why this had caught me so off guard, and actually made me break into tears.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whispered into her hair.
“I know.”
“Elle,” Mom hissed another warning.
So, Elle released me from her embrace. “I’ll see you around.”
I knew that was a lie. There was no way she was ever going to come back again. I could see it in her eyes and in her behavior. Sometimes, especially in moments like these, I really hated being a profiler. “I’ll see you around.”
Elle smiled lightly at me as she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, then turned on her heels and calmly made her way out of the alley while keeping her head down.
“What are you two doing out here?” Dad asked, walking into past Mom to see me standing alone in the alleyway. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting into your dress?”
Mom hit his bicep, then started pulling him back inside. “Stop messing with perfection.”
Even though they were divorced, the two of them were still close, and they were comfortable with playing around like that. They almost reminded me of how I was around Morgan. We were serious, but we loved each other, and we knew how to be silly in order to show affection and lighten the cloudy days of our lives. My mom and dad did all of those things, too. It was a wonder they got divorced in the first place. I mean, now that I was older, and there was hindsight and all, I knew that they got divorced because their jobs got in the way; the same reason Hotch and Haley got a divorce. They still loved each other, and they still loved me and Elle, but it was just hard for them to be apart so often. Mom was always off traveling the world for the CIA, meanwhile Dad was stuck at the Academy, teaching a bunch of kids whose dream was to be in the FBI, just like mine had always been. They just got busy. Work got in the way, but they never fell out of love.
Honestly, though, that was the reason I had so much hope for mine and Hotch’s relationship. We worked together. Our time at work and home were spent together. There were only a handful of times when we really missed each other; but we always knew that we would come back together and keep working cases together, or go home to fuck each other until our minds stopped working. We worked because of that. Our job didn’t get in the way of our relationship, which meant that it was just one less thing we had to worry about.
Mom poked her head back out of the venue to ask if I was alright. When I nodded and forced a smile onto my face, she invited me back inside, and led me to the bridal suite so that I could get my hair and make up done before sliding into my dress. “Guests are starting to show up,” she explained frantically while pushing me into the hair and makeup seat. The two women who had just finished getting JJ ready immediately started attacking my hair and face before I could even register what the hell was happening.
“Can you let me know if Sean shows up?” I asked.
My mom stared at me with wide eyes through the mirror. “You invited him? Why didn’t you—” She sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Does Aaron know?”
“No.” I didn’t tell anyone on purpose.
When I invited Sean, I had done it secretly after Hotch insisted that he didn’t want his brother to be a part of the ceremony as best man or groom—or whatever the hell we were doing. After Haley’s funeral, when we realized that Sean hadn’t shown up, Hotch promised that he was done with his brother for good. But I just couldn’t let them fall out like this. To be fair, a lot of people didn’t come to Haley’s funeral for one reason or another. I knew that Sean was somewhat of a fuck up, but he didn’t deserve to be punished for showing up to Hotch’s ex-wife’s funeral… Right?
By the time I was done getting “prettied up”, as my mother would put it, and I shimmied into my dress, there was still no news of Sean, or, frankly, Elle. Some part of me held out hope that she would have turned around to come back and see me walk down the aisle. Maybe I was foolish. But I always thought that my sister would be there for my wedding day. Even though she and I didn’t exactly get along sometimes, and there was a fair period of time where we didn’t talk, I imagined that she would be there. I imagined that she would be celebrating this day with me. Perhaps that was why I had invited Sean, too, because Hotch secretly felt the same way about having his brother there. Maybe the two of us were just destined for each other and that was it… We didn’t deserve our families. I mean, Aaron’s family didn’t deserve him; but I knew that he always wished that he had grown up in a better family. It was a miracle that he turned out the way he did. He was so close to becoming Sean; but he didn’t. That was admirable.
“Everyone decent?” Dad asked after knocking on the door suddenly, snapping me out of my train of thought. Mom told him that he could come in. As he stepped inside, his mouth fell agape, a small smile crawling onto his face. “Y/N…”
“You’re not allowed to cry yet, Ken,” Mom scorned.
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her. As she rolled her eyes and giggled at his silliness, she started ushering the girls out of the bridal suite so that they could go find seats at the ceremony and let everyone know that we were about to start. The door closed behind them. “You ready for this?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“It’s not too late to back out now,” he joked.
“Do you want me to?”
He shook his head. “Not in a million years.”
“You like him, right, Dad?”
He stared at me for a moment, his smile fading so that he could pout at my doubt. “I think he’s perfect for you, Y/N. I’ve never seen you so happy. As long as he makes you happy, and as long as he treats you well, I’ll love him like he’s my own.” I smiled at the ground. “And, no, I don’t think it’s weird that he’s older than you.”
“I know you don’t,” I played along.
He stepped forward and tilted my head up with the side of his curled index finger. “Let’s get the boring part over with, shall we?” I nodded. “Alright.” He turned and opened the door, holding out his arm for me so that I could loop my arm with his.
When we stepped into the hallway, the woman who had done my hair handed me my flower bouquet to carry down the aisle, to which I quietly thanked her for. We traveled down the hall a few steps before I stopped. Dad took a step forward like he was already going to lead me down the aisle, but I felt frozen in place. Deep down, I knew that I was ready to marry Aaron Hotchner. I knew that I wanted nothing more than to finally call myself Y/N Hotchner, and to be his entirely. Yet, I couldn’t seem to move my feet. The corner was right there, with the aisle just past it, and Hotch waiting at the end of it. He was waiting for me, and I was absolutely panicking.
I didn’t want us to fail. That was the first time I had admitted it to myself like that. I knew that we were destined for great things and that we loved each other so much, but I was terrified of failing him like Haley failed him. He had been through so much, and I really, really didn’t want to let him down like everyone else had. I knew that he made me happy, and that I made him happy… but what would happen if I ever lost him? I couldn’t bear to think—
“It’s going to be alright,” Dad promised, squeezing my hand.
My breath sputtered as a tear slipped down my cheek. “Were you this scared when you married Mom?”
He smiled and nodded. “I thought that I was going to throw up all over my tux.”
“What helped?”
“Seeing your mom come down the aisle,” he answered quickly, like he had anticipated the question. “I remember that I couldn’t stop shaking and my head wouldn’t stop spinning, but then I saw her, and everything suddenly made sense.” He reached up and wiped the tear from my cheek. “Once you see him, you’ll feel better. I promise.”
“I don’t want to fall over,” I admitted. I was so nervous about taking that first step and tripping over myself. I felt like I could collapse at any second between the panic coursing through my veins and the tightness in my lungs.
“I won’t let you.”
I let my eyes flutter closed before taking in a deep breath, holding it, then slowly releasing it. I did it again, this time a little faster, and my head stopped spinning long enough for me to nod a signal that I was ready. He squeezed my hand again, then took another step, pulling me along carefully. I finally took the first step forward. I felt a sigh of relief leave my chest as I realized that I hadn’t fallen over yet. We took another step, this time with a longer, braver stride, and I felt more confidence wash over me. I was one step closer to seeing him, and that was enough to encourage me to keep going. So, we continued on, one step after the other, slowly gaining speed until we hit the cliché wedding walk pace. We reached the corner, and I closed my eyes again as my breath picked up once more. Hotch was waiting just around the corner. I would see him for the first time on our wedding day, and for the last time as my fiancé. This was real. It was really happening. We were about to do this.
“Just find him and breathe,” my dad whispered.
I nodded again, and he led me around the corner. I opened my eyes as I heard the audience rise to their feet and turn to face me. I looked around the space, spotting the team at the back of the crowd, spread out amongst the bride and groom’s sides. Morgan was standing on my side, just beside the aisle, and he smiled at me. I felt my racing heart slow down a bit when I managed to smile back, but it wasn’t until I looked past the crowd and down the aisle to find Hotch standing with Jack at his side that I finally found tranquility. Every bit of panic left me in one, relieving wave. Every ounce of worry or conflict disappeared without a trace. Just like my dad said, when Hotch’s eyes met mine, I suddenly forgot how scared I was, and I was overwhelmed by happiness and excitement. I felt like I could start running down the aisle now if it meant that I would just be in his arms again.
My eyes pouted, but I smiled at him as brightly as I could. He was smiling back, even though his jaw was practically on the floor in response to seeing me in my dress. And all I could think about was getting to kiss his lips for the first time as his wife. I wished we could skip the whole ceremony altogether and just get to that part. I wished that I could teleport down the aisle and jump into arms, both of us refusing to let go of one another.
We took another step and I watched as Jack looked up at his dad, both of them sharing a smile of excitement between each other. With every row of the crowd we passed, I felt my speed pick up, almost like I was dragging my dad along with me now instead of the other way around. I was in a rush to finally get there, hear that we were married, kiss him, and hold him in my arms forever as husband and wife. There wasn’t a moment to waste.
As we passed the last row, I felt myself nearly trip over my dress as I got a little too excited with my steps. Dad caught me, just like he promised, and I chuckled to myself slightly, looking up at Hotch to see that he was acting like nothing happened. Dad leaned in when we were standing just in front of Hotch, Jack, and the officiant. He kissed my cheek and squeezed my hand one last time before untangling our fingers and unlinking our arms. I felt my nerves return as I realized that there was no one there to hold me upright anymore, no one to catch me if I were to trip again.
I felt my anxiety return, my heart racing in my chest, my blood pumping in my arms, my lungs struggling to take normal breaths, my head beginning to spin. I closed my eyes, trying to find my balance and my ground— and then I felt him. His large hand was over mine on my bouquet, his thick fingers trying to pry my left hand away from the flowers. I let him do as he wished, my eyes fluttering open as he took my hand in his and pulled me towards him carefully.
Hotch’s eyes met mine as he led me to stand closer to him, my right shoulder facing the crowd. We stared at each other with that same light that I noticed every morning when we woke up and he would remember how happy he was to have me there with him. I got lost in his chocolate brown eyes as he lifted his other hand up to my face and brushed some of my hair back behind my ear.
“How obvious was I?” I asked quietly.
Hotch bit back a laugh. “I don’t think anyone noticed.”
“Trick question. If you noticed, everyone noticed,” I snickered. Without warning, he leaned in slowly and pressed a gentle, loving kiss against me. It felt like a ghost had barely kissed me. Just as I felt that he was there, he was gone. “You’re supposed to save that for the end,” I whispered as he pulled away slightly, his breath still hot on my nose.
He kissed me again with the same considerate touch. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“Friends and family,” the officiant began loudly, practically tearing me and Hotch apart due to shock. We giggled at each other quietly. “We’ve gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N Greenaway and Aaron Hotchner. As I understand it, the bride and the groom have both prepared something to say before we start with the official vows.”
Hotch nodded, squeezing my hand that he was holding. He released me for a short moment so that he could fish out his speech from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. I giggled at him. He was shaking just as hard as I was, and it was made plain to me when the flimsy paper trembled in his touch. He smiled at my giggle. “The past two years have been… taxing, to say the least. Together, we’ve really been rung through the works, and there were times when I thought we wouldn’t make it to this day for one reason or another. But for the past three years, you have stuck by my side, no matter what, and you’ve given me a reason every day to keep pushing and keep living. I wouldn’t be here today without you. It’s true. Every day, I look at you and Jack, and I remember that I love you both more than anything in the world. I know that I will always fight for you because I love you, and no matter what the world throws at us, that will never change. Your messes are my messes, Y/N. I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world. I swear that from this day on, I will be by your side, supporting every decision you make, cheering you on while you make a difference in the world, and loving you as vigorously as I can until my dying day. I promise to never hold anything back from you—emotionally, physically, spiritually… and, of course, when it comes to secrets. My whole world belongs to you, Y/N, and I want it to remain that way until my last breath, or until the world stops spinning. I love you.”
I smirked and bit my lip. “I love you, too.”
“Stop biting,” he whispered dominantly.
“I can’t help it.”
“Your turn,” the officiant said to me.
“Right—” I said with a laugh. I surprised Hotch by letting go of his hand so that I could dig into the right-side pocket of my dress to retrieve my speech. “Pockets,” I teased him. He bit his lip. “Don’t bite.”
“I can’t help it,” he whispered through his teeth.
I rolled my eyes at him before glancing down at my paper. I had written it a thousand times before landing on this version that I was… satisfied with. Unfortunately, there weren’t enough words to tell Hotch how much I loved him. At least, there weren’t the right words. I used what the English vocabulary had available, seeking out some of Reid’s help, if I were being honest, but it still wasn’t exactly what I meant. There would never be a speech long enough to list all of the ways I loved Aaron Hotchner. Even if the words to express my love for him existed, my lungs probably would have given out before I could have finished telling him. The good news was, he knew. Hotch knew the truth. This whole show was for the people we loved, like Jack, my parents, and the team. This was for them to see how infinite my love was for him. Hotch didn’t need to hear it. Every kiss I pressed to his lips was my way of telling him in the only way that made sense. Telling him: “I love you” were the only words that came anywhere close to what I meant. Scratching his back as he thrusted into me was a way of telling him that he was mine, and that I loved him, and I would never stop loving him. He knew all of that. So, even though words failed me during that speech, I knew that the one person there who knew the truth about my love for Aaron Hotchner was the only one who mattered.
“I made a promise to you once that I would love you unconditionally and I would always fight for you. It took you a long time to believe me when I said that your messes are my messes, but they are, and they always will be. No matter what, I will never stop loving you for that very reason. I do love you, Aaron. I love you and I love Jack more than anything in the whole, wide world. You welcomed me into your life, into your home, and into your family. You let me love your son like he’s my own, and I know that I will spend the rest of my life thanking you for that opportunity. And I want to spend my life thanking you. I want to spend every second by your side, running around the country while we do what we love, coming home to our son to hold him in our arms, and repeating that process. I love my life with you. I love you. No one can ever take that away from us. Ever.”
He gave me a look that asked if he could kiss me. I had to shake my head because we still had to get through the rest of the ceremony, and I wanted the very next kiss to be the first one that would start off the rest of our lives together. I wanted it to be the kiss. I didn’t want to ever forget the next kiss. So, I glanced away from him, just to deter his urge.
The officiant looked to Hotch, “Please repeat after me. ‘I, Aaron Hotchner.’”
Hotch reached up to my face and brushed some of my hair back behind my ear. “I, Aaron Hotchner.” He continued to repeat every line, each one gaining in speed as his excitement took over. “Take you, Y/N Greenaway… To have and to hold… For better or for worse… In sickness and in health… To love, to cherish, to appreciate for as long as we both shall live.”
I had memorized the words before the officiant even turned to me. I knew that I had to be patient, and to repeat the same words at the same pace that Hotch had just done, but I wanted nothing more than to just race through it, say “I do” then kiss my husband for the first time. But patience was key. So, when the officiant started, I followed.
“I, Y/N Greenaway, take you, Aaron Hotchner, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. To love, to cherish, to appreciate for as long as we both shall live.”
It felt like a million pounds had been lifted off my chest by the time we got through it all. The long part was done, and now came the best part. The words “husband and wife” barely left the officiant’s lips before Hotch and I were jumping each other. He grabbed my hips roughly, pulling me against him as eagerly as possible, and he tilted his head down. I swung my arms around his neck, letting him lift me off the ground somewhat, and I pressed my lips to his for the first time as his wife. I smiled against him. Hotch giggled as the officiant finally said the cliché: “You may kiss the bride” a few seconds too late.
“Don’t let go yet,” Hotch begged before kissing me again.
I pulled away for air. “I’ll never let go.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I leaned into him. “I love you—” We kissed.
----
At the reception, I felt my head spinning. It was like an out of body experience. I was standing there beside Hotch, his arm wrapped around my waist, his hand on my hip; and we were talking to everyone who had come to the wedding and wanted to give us their personal congratulations. But I just couldn’t hear them. I was staring at Hotch, admiring how perfect he was. He was finally mine. I couldn’t believe that only a few hours ago, we were standing on the altar, sliding our wedding bands onto each other’s ring fingers. And now we were standing there… And I was just trying not to tip over. Even if I did waver, Hotch would have caught me. I trusted him with my life, and I understood that he could catch me if I ever fell—just like he had caught me when I tripped somewhat on my way down the aisle. He had me. I was all his, and he was all mine. We would always be there to protect each other.
“Oh, look, it’s my favorite taken agent,” someone cheered before tickling my sides. I laughed and gently sent my elbow back into his stomach. He playfully groaned after releasing me so that he could guard his stomach. “Man down! Man down!”
I turned and hit his arm. “Derek Morgan, you are acting like a child.”
“Only for you, sweetness.” He reached out to wing his arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a tight hug that we both strained our strength for. “I’m so happy for you.”
Before I could respond, I felt someone tap my shoulder for their attention, and then they were quickly prying me off of Morgan. I giggled again as she pulled me into a hug that was even tighter than the last one I had just been trapped in. Emily laughed. “I told you they’d all see the truth,” she said giddily in my ear.
“Is he a Mr. Darcy contender or what?” I whispered back. We both laughed as we parted. I stared at her for a moment, admiring her smile. “I love you, Em. I don’t say it enough. But I do.”
She smiled and punched my arm lightly. “What’s got you being all sappy?”
“Mr. Darcy.”
“Ah. Yeah, I can see how that could happen.” She searched my face. “You look better than yesterday.”
“I feel better. It was just nerves.”
“Are we all congratulating the bride?” I heard a familiar voice ask behind me.
I smiled and turned. “Cody!”
I hugged him—but this wasn’t like with Morgan or Emily. No. Cody was the Director of the FBI, and therefore he was still my boss. Yes, Hotch and I were good friends with him, but there still had to be some level or respect and professionalism with him around while still outside of work. So, our hug was brief and polite. It didn’t mean much. But the looks on Morgan and Emily’s faces were priceless, honestly.
“They’re playing a slow dance for us,” Hotch told me. He grabbed my hand and started pulling me to the dance floor before I could finish talking with the Director and Emily, or even really get a chance to wave goodbye to them.
I giggled at how fast everything was happening. One second I was on the altar with him, then I was talking to Morgan and Emily, then the Director butted in, and now I was dancing with Aaron—my husband. The world was wild sometimes.
“You shouldn’t interrupt me next time.” I brushed his hair back out of his face then scratched my fingers down his five o’clock shadow.
He smirked and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “But you’re all mine now, and I don’t want you to forget it.”
“I’m all yours,” I whispered back, cupping my palm over his cheek. “Always.”
He pulled me close for a kiss until our chests were touching and he was almost towering over me, his hands on the small of my back the only thing keeping me from falling to the ground. I let my arms curl around the back of his neck. We giggled against each other’s lips as we ran out of breath, but he was adamant on still kissing me and proving his dominance to me as if no one were watching. Well, as if all of our friends and family at our wedding weren’t watching. That only made me laugh harder.
He nibbled on my jaw. “I love you, Y/N.”
I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling at the strands lightly until he removed his lips from my skin in order to let me get a proper look at him. His eyes were dialed, a sign of love and lust. He was so predictable. But he had enough self-restraint to recognize that he couldn’t jump me then and there while everyone was watching as we swayed, laughed, and kissed. My mom was smiling and crying, thinking that we were the cutest, most innocent thing she had ever seen. If only she knew. My dad, on the other hand—as well as Rossi and Morgan—had a look that said: If you hurt Y/N, we’ll kill you ourselves. He would never hurt me, though. I knew that better than anyone else. Aaron Hotchner cherished me more than I could ever cherish him; and that sometimes frustrated me, but it ultimately made me feel infinitely and unconditionally loved.
Hotch rotated us as we continued to sway. I could now see the other side of the room where Emily, Reid, Garcia, JJ were all standing, pointing and gawking at us. I rolled my eyes at them. They were so embarrassing sometimes. But I loved them. Endlessly. There was nothing they could ever do or say that would make me love them any less. It just wasn’t possible. They were my family, and I was theirs, and that meant the whole world to me, considering the way my family fell apart. My parents split up for dumb reasons, and my sister was off the grid, becoming a free-spirit or some shit like that. Now, however, I had Jack and Hotch, my real family. It was a nice consolation that I had the BAU in my corner, there to protect me and save me if need be, there to love me or scold me if I fucked up on a case. Even JJ, the one who doubted mine and Hotch’s relationship since the beginning, was a part of that family, and I still valued her opinion and her love. Like I said, I would always love them. If we fought, so be it. But, in the end, we were always going to be siblings, in a way.
“Do you ever wonder what the team would look like if Elle and Gideon were still there?” I asked Hotch quietly.
He cocked a brow at me. We had gone from practically sticking our tongues down each other’s throats to talking about random, old memories. I understood why it caught him off guard. I understood that it probably wasn’t the best time to ask; but it had been weighing on my mind as we swayed to the slow music.
“Sometimes,” Hotch agreed. “But I’m extremely grateful that we found Emily, and that Rossi came back.”
I nodded and rested my cheek against his chest. “I miss them.”
“I know.”
“Even though Gideon was a total asshole.”
Hotch chuckled. “Yeah. Even then.”
As the song came to a slow, steady end, Hotch and I parted from our embrace to kiss again, this time with a little less lust and a little more passion. And then Bohemian Rhapsody started playing. I laughed and pressed my forehead against his.
“I should probably let you get back to chatting with everyone,” he whispered.
I shook my head. “Just dance with me for a little longer.”
Hotch grinned, grabbing my hand, then stepped back from me before pulling me in and spinning me around until my back hit his chest. I was wrapped in a hug now. I rested my head against him, letting us sway and bounce to the music at a faster pace than we had been going with the last song; and since the slow dance was over, everyone else had wandered back onto the floor, too. So, Rossi wandered over. Jazz hands out, feet shuffling, his iconic Italian smirk on his face, he came to congratulate us.
“Bella!” he cheered, reaching to grab my face between his palms. “You two certainly know how to put on a show.” He kissed each of my cheeks roughly. “You, on the other hand,” he said, turning to Aaron, “need a few dancing lessons. I’m available on Thursday evenings." He patted Hotch’s shoulders.
“I know how to dance,” Hotch argued playfully.
“Clearly not.”
We all giggled. That was when I spotted a familiar face from across the room, which caught me off guard. He was sitting at the bar we had, ordering yet another drink from the bartender who hadn’t cut him off yet. I shook my head. Of course, he was late. And of course, he had to be getting drunk the first chance he got. I didn’t want to hold any biases against him, but he was making it really hard to keep defending him when he continued to pull shit like this and refuse to recognize that it was a problem. I just wished that he would let us help him.
I looked at Hotch and excused myself for a moment. He nodded an acknowledgement before turning back to his conversation and I left to walk across the room. “Taking advantage of the open bar?” I asked as I approached Sean.
He turned with a full glass in his hand. When he saw that it was me, he rolled his eyes slightly. “That’s what it’s here for, isn’t it?”
“Aaron’ll cut you off eventually.”
“I’ll be gone before then.”
“Will you even try to talk to him?”
“He doesn’t want me here. Why would I?” Sean sighed while setting his glass down. “Sorry. I know that it’s your day, and I have no right to stir up family drama.” He smiled. “I’m happy for you guys.” He started to walk away, but I caught his bicep.
I searched his eyes. “He really does love you, Sean. He’s just been hurt too many times.”
“Yeah, well… Him and everyone else in the world.” He pulled his arm away from me before striding off.
I sighed in defeat while shifting my weight on the balls of my feet. I just wanted them to make up. Ever since Haley’s death last year, Hotch had gone out of his way to make sure that none of us were affiliated with Sean. When he didn’t show up to the funeral, that was Hotch’s breaking point. He needed his brother there, yet Sean was too busy doing who knew what. Like, what could have been more important than that funeral? I didn’t understand. However, I still wanted Sean around because I knew that Hotch and Jack both needed him in their lives. Hotch, on the other hand, wasn’t having it. This was why. I should have known better. I should have known that Sean would still disappoint, no matter what. At least he showed up at all.
“Thank you,” someone whispered in my ear as they snaked their arms around my waist. I rested my head back against their shoulder. “You tried… That’s all you can do.”
I shook my head. “I thought he would just try to talk to you.”
Hotch ran his hands over the fabric of my dress, my stomach tensing up because it tickled a bit. “It’s okay.” He kissed my neck. “Hey.” He was trying to catch my attention, so I hummed a tone that asked him what was on his mind. “You wanna get out of here?”
“It’s our own wedding.”
“They won’t miss us anymore. All the important stuff is over.”
“It’ll be embarrassingly obvious.”
He hummed and smiled against my ear. “How about this…” He grabbed my hips roughly. “We’re leaving. Now.”
I gulped at the dominating, stern tone that practically vibrated throughout my entire body, sending a chill up my spine in response. Well, that was a preview as to what the next two weeks were going to be like for me. It made me smile. “Yes, Sir.”
Hotch nibbled at my earlobe light before whispering, “I love you.”
I turned my head so that I was looking at him while still resting against his shoulder. I kissed him. “I love you, too.”
--------
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