#*three minutes later* thousand-mile stare :l

[daffenger]

THE PENGUIN ep7 yes YES the Sofia is out

THE PENGUIN ep4 vs THE YELLOW WALL-PAPER, Charlotte Gilman Perkins

Yellow as the colour of madness, yellow as the colour of a woman driven to madness.

[notmrskennedy]

Friendliness

A/N - ha so i just wrote this - no editing we die like men. here’s the alternate ending to my other post Likeability (this one is the more predictable one y’all will probably like whoops) if you’ve read the other one, just skip to the end it’s all the same in the middle 

Summary - The Team meets a very unfriendly scientist which Spencer’s taken a fancy to

W/C - 2.9k (whoops)

Warnings - Mild Anatomy/bones/etc discussion, a pinch and change of swearing

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy. 

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies. 

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case. 

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him. 

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls. 

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets. 

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured. 

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.” 

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter. 

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.” 

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

#

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns. 

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen. 

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.  

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!” 

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt? 

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this. 

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“ 

 “Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what? 

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude. 

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled. 

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated. 

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere. 

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed. 

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

#

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with. 

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for? 

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands. 

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages. 

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

#

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude. 

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her. 

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler. 

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second.  She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now. 

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening. 

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be. 

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond. 

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin. 

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life. 

 “I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care. 

#

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about. 

Nothing to worry about her ass. 

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face. 

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks. 

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough. 

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling. 

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

#

Emily is barely awake when she sees it. JJ’s soft breathing next to her is lulling by itself, let alone if you add in Rossi’s rhythmic snoring and Luke’s idle whispers of sleep talk. Emily could do with some sleep and maybe a few days off. They could all use a few days off, especially after coming to terms with the fact a grad student had killed 12 women just to get a little action. 

From a scientist who freely admitted to enjoying the company of bones over real people. 

Alive people. 

No wonder Stewart had done what he’d done. 

Emily turns in her spot, lays back against the wall of the airplane and the seat. After nearly five decades—she’s never thinking about that again—of plane rides, she can comfortably say she can sleep anywhere. With any amount of noise, or cold, or pain. 

But her eyes are accidentally open when she peaks around the seat cushion. Spies the Wild Dr. Reid in his natural habitat, reading some ridiculously long book and…carding his fingers through your hair? He’s got a lock curled up around his finger, gently twisting it as he reads. You’re sleeping—knocked the fuck out—in his lap, gripping loosely onto his leg. 

You deserve the sleep, Emily decides with a smile. You’d worked the hardest on the case, up for nearly four days with as little rest as you can manage. How Stewart managed to stay awake enough to attack you is beyond Emily. She’s missed out on a few hours just today and she’s losing the battle with her eyelids. 

No one ever asked her opinion of you. Probably didn’t have to. You were not the easiest to like, but you’d captured her respect and a bit of her heart when you’d said at the beginning of the case: “I’m an excavator by trade—I’m at archeological digs most of the time—so it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that these ladies are murder victims. I don’t think I’ll sleep until I’ve got names for them. And maybe the murderer on my table.”

Emily understood the unease, the apprehension. Why everyone was relieved when you’d turned down the plane ride she’d offered you. How they all bit back groans when Emily had insisted. But they’ll have to get used to it, Emily thinks and she settles again. Because they’ll see you again. No doubt about it. The way you’re wrapped up around Spencer, how you hold tighter when the jet bounces a touch, says just that much anyway. 

[missjaystone]

Familiar Faces

Summary: Sam sets out to find his soulmate after his dream life wound up being just that, a dream. He just wants to find his happy ever after. Word Count: 3,930 Pairing(s): Sam Wilson x Reader Warnings: Death (mentioned), Smut, Rough(ish) sex

(This is the sequel to ‘Old Faces’, please read that one first)

Sam didn't tell anyone what happened in his dream if you could call it that; now that he was awake and knew none of that ever happened, it felt like a nightmare or a cruel joke. He dug through old boxes for close to two hours before he found what he was looking for; a box with a handful of pictures from the time he spent with you and Riley before they shipped out. You'd sent the pictures to them not long after they left, he kept them along with the letters you wrote them in a little lockbox. He always kept the key for it on his keychain. He scrambled to look at different letters and pictures for your address, he knew it was on there somewhere.

Half an hour and a dozen groans of frustration and he finally found it! '3197 N 10th St, Washington DC', it was written clear as day and he could recognize your handwriting from a mile away; it was always a little slanted to the side and it was usually smudged in at least three places because your hand always ran across it when you wrote or went back to dot your i's and cross your t's. "FRIDAY, can you look up the owner of 3197 North 10th st in Washington, DC? And their contact information?" He called out to the AI. There was a confirmation sound before it answered in 20 seconds "it's owned by Richard and Owen Johnson." He frowned some "can you look up anyone named y/f/n y/l/n in DC?" Another sound before the AI answered him "there are two thousand four hundred thirteen people with that name." He groaned "how many of them went to the FBI academy in Quantico?" "None," the AI said almost immediately. "Open the search nationwide-no, global, then crosscheck it with anyone who served or actively serves as a special agent with the FBI or any of America's agencies," he ordered, he was getting nervous. His mind started to wander; what if something awful happened to you? The AI's voice broke him out of his thoughts "there is one person in the United States that fits that criteria."

"Where? Where is she?" Sam asked excitedly. "Records indicate she lived in New Haven, Connecticut the past year but a rental application for an apartment in Greenwich Village can be found as well, both dated within the past two weeks." Sam's hopes were quickly rising as he wrote the new address down. "Where's the closest VA office to her apartment?" Sam finally asked after debating. He couldn't just show up on your doorstep out of the blue, but showing up at the VA in the hope you'd go there like any other veteran wouldn't be so weird would it? He'd look the place up online and find a meeting schedule later, now he just wanted to go back to sleep for a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After visiting the VA for two weeks, and no sign of you, Sam was beginning to lose hope and get worried again. Steve encouraged him to go out for a drink with him and Bucky if only to distract him for a night. Bucky all but dragged him with them when Sam said he'd rather not. On the car ride to the bar, Sam figured a couple of drinks wouldn't hurt, what's the worst that could happen. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a beer, looking around the crowded bar curiously. He'd only been there for ten minutes when he decided to get out for some fresh air, slipping away from his friends while they were briefly distracted. He didn't know where it was taking him but he followed the part of his brain that told him to walk down the street. Maybe he followed his mind, hoping the pull would somehow lead to you. He wanted nothing more than to believe that soulmates had a special bond that pulled them together, maybe that's just what he needed to think to stay sane.

He needed to believe all the stories he heard growing up about soulmates being pulled together, about how nothing could keep them apart from one another. He may have denied it initially but he was well past that. No other woman he saw made him feel the way you did; he knew they never could. He started walking past a park but stopped, not giving it a second thought when his mind told him to go in. With it being almost 9 on a weeknight, he wasn't surprised the park was devoid of kids and adults. Then he saw the figure sitting on top of the monkey bars and he smiled to himself.

"Little late to be out isn't it?" He asked when he stopped a couple of feet behind the figure. "Says the man who's also out at this time," was the reply, accompanied by a quiet laugh. "I had a dream you were here, you know," Sam admitted sheepishly. If it wasn't so dark out and he wasn't behind you, you would've seen his blushing face "I mean, not here exactly, I had a dream you were in New York. I've been looking just about everywhere for you." "Work keeps me busy, I've technically lived here for two weeks but I've only spent about three days in town," you answered. "Understandable," he said with a quiet, nervous laugh. A silence filled the space around you both. Sam knew what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. He sighed quietly and bit his lip "I'm sorry I disappeared on you after we lost him. You needed someone to lean on and it should have been me. I shouldn't have let my own emotions consume me and leave you in the dust," he finally said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam, losing him was as huge for you as it was for me. I was never mad at you; your feelings were your own and you did what was best for yourself. I can't be mad at you for taking care of yourself," you told him, finally looking over at him. He started to argue but you knew what he'd say "I mean it, Sam. I don't ever want you to feel bad for taking care of yourself. You knew what you needed, I knew what I needed and that's that." "I thought you blamed me for his death though, I should've-" he started to argue. You shushed him "people always want to find someone to blame when things go wrong, even if that person is themselves, it's supposed to make it easier to accept I think, because if someone is to blame, then a bad thing didn't just happen, it had a reason behind it. There's nothing you could have done to save him, you were both doing your jobs. I know you think it's your fault but it isn't, Sam, and I never thought otherwise."

Sam smiled, he felt like a weight he didn't even know he carried had been lifted. He'd heard it before but it only ever took away part of the blame he felt. Hearing it from you made it feel true, you saying it made him believe it. He felt like he could breathe again. "You know, I didn't want you to be my soulmate," he said, eyes widening immediately in embarrassment. That's not how he wanted it to come out. "Ouch," you mumbled but held back a laugh. You'd seen him nervous before, it was usually a little entertaining. "I mean I did! Don't get me wrong, god I wanted it but I always worried I'd be too old for you, you know. I didn't want you to get stuck with someone old enough to be your young dad, I thought maybe you'd be able to find someone closer to your age, someone who wasn't friends with the guy who basically raised you," he rambled quickly.

You rolled your eyes and let out a laugh before leaning over the edge of the monkey bars until you were hanging upside down, face to face with him "why would I do that? I didn't have a bond with anyone else the way I did with you. Age be damned, I was an adult when we met, and I was and am more than capable of making my own choices." "Maybe I was just too scared of being rejected then. Do you know how much it's supposed to hurt when your soulmate rejects you?" He asked with a small hum, his hand gently coming up to cup your cheek.

"Oh please, who in their right mind could reject you?" You asked and flashed a small smirk. "God you're a pain," he said jokingly before stepping forward and planting his lips on yours in a gentle kiss. It had a passionate, longing feel to it, like it was something you'd both been waiting for ages for it. Your hanging upside down made it a little awkward but that didn't deter either of you. You tried to pull him closer, only to struggle; you lightly shoved his chest when he laughed. "So, I'm not getting rejected right?" Was the first thing he said when your lips separated. His tone was joking but even in the dark, you could see the nervous look on his face. "I'd never reject you, Sam; I love you," you told him, looking directly into his eyes so he knew you meant it.

He beamed a bright grin, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone softly "I love you too, I wish it hadn't taken so long for this to happen, for us to finally end up together." "Me too, Sam," you were grinning from ear to ear as you looked at him. "Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He asked happily. "I'd like that a lot, maybe you can tell me what you've been up to and why two men are staring at us," you stated with a grin. When he gave you a confused look, you nodded past him where two men were stood at the park's entrance, trying (and failing) to look nonchalant and acting like they weren't trying to eavesdrop. "Shoo!" Sam yelled when he looked back at them. He let out an exasperated sigh and an embarrassed chuckle "just a guy who ripped my steering wheel out of my car while I was in it and another guy who likes to show off by frequently running past me. Don't worry, they're just lonely old men, I promise they won't always be around to watch like that." You laughed and grinned "well I can't wait to hear those stories."

When the blood rushing to your head became too much, you finally got off the monkey bars and stretched. You didn't hesitate to kiss him, this time wrapping your arms around him. His own arms were around your waist in an instant, drawing you close until you were flush against his chest. This one was sweeter than before, it was calm and comforting. "How about we go grab a bite to eat right now? There's a pretty good burger place open until midnight a block and a half away," he offered. "Then what're we still doing standing here?" You asked sarcastically, a teasing smile on your face as you took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together. "That's my girl," he laughed to himself and begin walking with you. "By the way, was that Captain America watching us?" You asked after walking in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. "Yup, unfortunately," Sam chuckled. "So you're either a superhero or some kind of terrorist now?" You teased. "Yeah, but if I tell which one I'd have to kill you," he said with a playful nudge to your side. "Right," you said sarcastically, both of you immediately bursting into laughter. Life felt right. You felt happy for the first time since your godfather's death.

The walk was quick and since it was almost 9:30 at night, almost nobody else was there so you got your food quickly. "So, we're fighting this guy in an airport, and I swear I don't think he's ever been in a fight before because he is so damn talkative. I mean it, he won't shut up. Anyway, he shoots this white substance at us, which in and of itself is unsettling and we're stuck on the ground. He's still talking and it's like a villain's monologue except it wasn't terrifying, it was annoying. I call in Redwing and he just launches this guy out the window and then Bucky says 'you couldn't have done that sooner' and I so badly wanted to smack him or at the very least send him flying through a window," Sam explains, rolling his eyes dramatically while you laughed, having to put down your burger so you didn't take a bite and choke. "And Bucky's the one who ripped your steering wheel out, right?" You asked, just to be sure. "Yup and every day with that dumbass is a test," Sam laughed and grinned. "Well, it's a good thing you have experience with dumbasses, huh?" You asked jokingly. "You know I do, baby."

You and Sam actually wound up staying at the place until they closed at midnight. Once you left, you two just began walking around, savoring each other's company and getting close again. "You wanna go back to my place? It's not that far from here," you offered with a smile. "Really? I thought you lived in Greenwich, I saw the apartment application online," he admitted before coughing and clearing his throat; he really didn't want to mention how much information he looked up online. "I applied to it but found a place here in Manhattan I liked better," you'd question him later about that little tidbit of information he had.

True to your word, the walk to your home was only fifteen minutes tops. "Sorry about all the boxes everywhere, I'm still unpacking everything," you apologized with a sheepish smile as you closed the front door behind you. "I've seen worse, baby, don't worry about it," he said with a casual shrug and a smile. Another silence fell upon you as you looked at each other. Even being together, there was still a pull and you both felt it. He gently pulled you to him and kissed you. This time, the kiss was desperate and hungry, consuming both of you. He held you by your hips, keeping you as close as physically possible. Your arm wrapped around his neck while your free hand cupped his cheeks as the kiss became more heated. It was like you suddenly couldn't get enough of each other.

When Sam finally broke away from the kiss, a small groan leaving his lips as he looked down at you with lust-darkened eyes "where's your bedroom?" "Down the hall, last door on the left," you mumbled, already dragging him down the hallway as you spoke. You'd taken two steps into the room when he picked you up and semi-gracefully tossed you onto the bed. He quickly moved to cover your body with his, caging you beneath him as he attacked your neck with kisses and a few soft bites. There was an urgency in both of your movements as you each hurried to undress the other while trying to keep as little space as possible between your bodies.

Soon, clothes were strewn across the bedroom; your bra was thrown over the lamp on your bedside table, his boxes landed in front of your dresser with his pants not far away. His fingers delved deep into your core and moved slowly, the little moans and gasps of pleasure spurring him on. The way his fingers repeatedly grazed over those spots you had trouble reaching even with your best toys had you melting underneath him. He watched with a proud, adoring smirk as he brought you right up to the edge before stopping and pulling his fingers out. He chuckled when you groaned in frustration, looking up at him pleadingly "Sam!"

"Hm?" He asked, a small teasing smirk on his face as he slowly licked them clean. You narrowed your eyes for a second before returning a teasing smirk of your own "either fuck me yourself or I'll use one of my toys while you sit in a corner." Sam tried to hide the way his eyes widened briefly "you wouldn't dare." You nodded with a smug smile on your face "well, my friend got me a new thrusting vibrator as a joke gift and I haven't had time to use it yet." You looked at each other in a silent staring contest, daring the other to do something. "God damn it, I can't tell if you're bluffing," he mumbled before crashing his lips to yours in a fervorous kiss which you were more than happy to return.

Sam haphazardly wrapped your legs around his waist and after impatiently lining his member at your entrance, he slowly thrust into you. You both let out groans of pleasure, your head falling back onto the pillow while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He started dragging his hips slowly, just savoring the feeling of being with you in a way so intimate he thought he'd only dream it. Once he got more comfortable, he set a slow pace, savoring the feeling of each slow drag of his hips. Your soft moans were music to his ears, and knowing that he was the cause made his heart swell. "I love you so much," your voice was soft and breathy, he could tell you were right there with him on cloud 9. You looked so peaceful as he slowly fucked into you and if he could take a picture, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Your eyes closed and lips slightly parted from the pure bliss you felt. If only your eyes were open, you'd have seen the switch that flipped in his mind when you softly moaned his name.

When he got comfortable, he slowly pulled his hips back until the tip was just barely in before slamming back into the hilt, smirking at the loud moan you let out. He moved his hips fast now, making sure to reach the innermost depths of your cunt with each stroke of his cock. "F-fuck, S-sam!" You almost screamed when he started roughly playing with your clit. He smirked down at you, eyes completely dark now as he asked: "yeah, you think a toy can do this? Can a piece of plastic fuck you this way?" He pinched your clit when you took too long to answer him, making your words hitch in your throat, his hips pistoning into you brutally. You quickly shook your head while your nails dug into his shoulders, a quiet 'no' leaving your lips as you shook your head. "Louder, I want everyone to hear it, I wanna hear you tell everyone who fucks you this good," his voice was becoming husky and his thrusts came harder, punctuating every few words.

"You, Sam! No-no toy can fun me like this!" You shouted, body beginning to shake as your orgasm quickly crept closer. "Yeah? Who's girl are you, huh? Don't you dare cum until I say so," He demanded, grabbing your jaw and making you look directly into his eyes. "Yours, Sam! I'm yours!" You choked out, a low whine following your words while a few tears of pure pleasure ran down your cheeks. "Who owns your cunt, baby? Scream his name so all of New York knows and then you can cum all over my dick," he demanded again, squeezing your jaw slightly. His own hips were stuttering as he did everything he could to hold back. "Sam!" You screamed his name like a prayer before being blinded by white-hot pleasure as you came undone beneath him. A strangled groan escaped his throat as he came, his face falling to your chest as his hips rolled slowly. He could hear your heart pounding in your chest before he reluctantly pulled his softening member out of you and collapsed next to you.

He watched your panting form for a few moments before he got up and went to the bathroom. When he returned with a damp rag, he moved the covers away and gently cleaned your combined arousal from between your legs, frowning some at the way your body jolted at his touch. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asked nervously. You shook your head, sending him a lazy smile "no, no I'm fine, Sam." "Are you sure? Because I know I got a little rough. I have no idea where that came from, I just-when you moaned my name it set something off I guess," he rambled with a nervous frown still on his face. With a quiet groan, you made yourself sit up so you could look at him. You cupped his cheeks and smiled "that was the best sex I've ever had, I'm fine, just a little sore because it's been a while." "How long?" He asked curiously before he could stop himself. You laughed some "three years, like I said work keeps me busy." He smiled and laid down, carefully pulling you with him "that makes both of us, baby."

The way he slowly rubbed your back made you melt in his embrace, sighing happily. He planted a soft kiss to your temple and yawned "I love you so much, (y/n). There's no place I'd rather be in this moment, or ever again." "I love you too, Sam, so damn much," you whispered, eyes falling shut as you snuggled close to him. A comfortable silence filled the room but only for a minute before Sam spoke again "wait, are you on anything?" You shook your head "we'll deal with that in the morning, I don't have the energy right now."

He fell silent but you could feel his eyes on you. When you opened your eyes again to look at him, you couldn't quite read the expression on his face "what?" He bit his lip in thought, debating on whether to say what was on his mind "well, what if we didn't deal with it?" "What?" You asked him, your confusion evident. "I'm just saying, what if we didn't deal with it, y'know. What if we just let whatever happens happen?" He suggested sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. "Sam, are you suggesting that we-?" You asked, your brain unwilling to find and utter the words. "Look, (y/n), I spent all these years without you and now I feel like I have to make up for lost time. Don't worry, I'll respect if you aren't ready or don't want that. I just want you to know that's where I'm at," he said softly, absentmindedly playing with your fingers.

You'd never given much thought to family life but thinking about it with Sam, having children and raising a family together, it sounded appealing. It suddenly felt like something you couldn't live without. You pecked his lips softly before resting your head back on his chest, closing your eyes "let's just go to sleep and see what happens in the weeks to come." You could hear the fondness in his voice when he spoke "if it's a boy, can we name him Paul after my dad?" "Obviously, now turn the light off and go to sleep," you mumbled tiredly, earning a tired, quiet laugh.

[nerdyfangirl67]

Changed - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Gibbs x reader

Warnings: language (I think?), feelings of anxiousness and trauma (symptoms of PTSD), feelings of fear

Word count: 2732

A/N: I’m not entirely sure if you get to leave the Witness Protection Program after the case is solved or not, but for this one-shot, I’m taking some liberties. I also am not writing Ziva into this one-shot because I feel if Gibbs “lost” a member, he would wait as long as he could before filling the position. Kate’s death is another thing that I left out of this piece. I just felt that it didn’t really go with my storyline so I left it out.

If ya’ll want me to write a part 2 to this, let me know!

Reader had to join witness protection for a period of time. When the reader returns to the team, she is changed. No one knows how to talk with her, no one except Gibbs, who never stopped loving her.

Your POV:

You stood across the street, staring at the two-story house that used to be your home. You had been gone for three years. Three long, treacherous years, the entirety of which had been spent under a different identity, thousands of miles from home, constantly looking over your shoulder, ready to run. Three years that had changed you beyond recognition. And now you were back. Which meant you got to pick up the pieces of your shattered life and try to glue them back together. The first thing you had done when you had gotten out of the program was come back here. Yes, it was the place it all started but it was also the place you had left your heart three years ago. The place were you had left your family behind.

-----

After a psych evaluation and an entrance interview of sorts with Director Vance, you had been reinstated as an agent on Gibbs’ team. Tomorrow was your first day back with the team and the excitement and nervousness consuming you were keeping you from sleep. Add to that the fact you were staying in a motel room, with a disturbing lack of security measures, for the first time in years and you knew it was going to be a sleepless night.

You had tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, you had even resorted to ‘counting sheep’. Finally, around five in the morning, you were able to fall into a light sleep, which you were rudely awakened from only an hour and a half later when your alarm goes off.

You drag yourself out of bed and head to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, you cringe internally at the sight of yourself. Your Y/H/C hair is tangled from the constant tossing and turning you did last night. There are dark bags underneath your eyes, which feel gritty and dry from your lack of sleep. You sigh and decide the best you can do is take a long, hot shower.

An hour later you were dressed and ready, or as ready as you’ll ever be, for work. You grab your jacket, the room key, and head towards the Prius you had rented until you could get your car out of storage.

The closer you got to the office, the more the feeling of anxiety in your chest grew, threatening to consume you entirely. You park the rental at the far edge of the parking lot, taking a minute to gather your breath before heading towards the NCIS building. You flash your badge at security, making it through much quicker than you had anticipated. You opted to take the stairs, not ready to encounter anyone you know just yet.

Reaching the floor of the NCIS offices and bullpen, you take a deep breath before pulling the door open. Upon reaching the bullpen, you notice the only other person present was Agent McGee. Agent McGee had been new to the team prior to you leaving, so you hadn’t been able to get to know him very well.

Taking a few steps forward, until you stood in front of Tony’s desk, you call out a simple greeting, “Good morning Agent McGee.”

McGee lifts his head up, bringing his attention onto you. You watch as the confusion in his features morphs to recognization. “Agent Y/L/N right?” He questions, standing and walking closer to you, extending a hand as he does. You nod and shake his hand, as he presses you further, “Boss said you were in the Program and didn’t know when, or if, you’d be back.” You nod tightly in response, but the conversation is brought to a halt when a booming voice fills the bullpen.

“McGee, who’s the hott-...” Tony trails off as you move to face him. He stares at you in shock before softly whispering, “Y/N?”

Nodding, you feel tears start to cascade down your face. You move forward at the same time Tony does and the two of you collide together in a tight embrace. You had missed him, your best friend. You had missed being a part of the team, a part of a family.

“I missed you, Tony.” You mumble, trying to stop the tears falling from your face.

His grip on you tightens before he whispers, “I missed you too.” He held on to you for a moment longer before releasing you and pulling back to look at you.

“You don’t look too bad there, sweet cheeks.” He says with a smirk. You smile open your mouth to reply, but Gibbs’ voice cuts you off, “Grab your gear. We have a case.”

You had been dreaming of this day for the past three years, the day you would finally get to lay eyes on the man you loved. His blue eyes are drawing you in, causing you to unconsciously move towards him.  You stop when you are a foot away from him, breathing in his unique musk of coffee and cedar for the first time in three years. As you look into his eyes, you can clearly see the future you had thought was long gone come back to light. That alone calms you, but the moment he gently pulls you into a hug, you feel like you are truly home.

“Are you safe?” He murmurs into your ear. You nod in response. Gibbs was the only one who knew the details of why you had to join the program. The hug doesn’t last long but it is better than anything you had imagined. As you step back from his embrace, he flashes you a small, discrete smile, which you return with a smile of your own.

Your recently reinstated status keeps you back at headquarters, filling out paperwork. The day goes by slowly, with a visit from Abby and Ducky being the only thing breaking the day up. You don’t see Tony, Gibbs, or McGee for the rest of the day and you head back to your motel room, in a dejected mood.

-----

The rest of the week passes much in the same fashion, with you seeing the rest of your team only briefly. The nights don’t pass any smoother and by Friday you are waking up at 4:30 in the morning, spending a few hours swimming in the motel pool to relax your tense muscles before heading to work.

You are the last one to arrive at the office, sitting down at your desk and taking a moment to lean back in your chair. When you sit up properly in your chair, you notice a coffee on your desktop. Your eyes drift towards Gibbs’ desk to see he’s watching you. You mouth a quiet “thank you” before grabbing the coffee and taking a long sip.

The morning passes quickly, with you adding some input to the ideas bouncing around the bullpen about the current case.

After a lunch of Chinese takeout, kindly supplied by Tony, the team comes across a break in the case as an identity of the unsub is discovered. Gibbs and McGee head to the unsub’s work location and you and Tony head to the unsub’s house.

After a twenty-minute car ride, the entirety of which you spent trying to calm the growing anxiety in your gut, you and Tony reach the house. Tony steps up to the door, knocking and announcing the two of you. No response comes, so after checking to see if the door is locked, Tony kicks in the door. You and Tony sweep the rooms of the house, finding no one. Passing back through the hallway you had just cleared, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Fear takes ahold of you and you ram your elbow backward, meeting a body, and as you whirl around, you grip the person’s wrist, twisting it behind their back.

“Son of a bitch! Y/N, it’s me.” Tony whisper yells, causing you to immediately release him. “I noticed a shed in the back. All the windows are blacked out with newspaper. We need to approach from the side and get the front and back entrances.” His words have you tensing up again, yet you follow him out of the house and around towards the shed.

You place a hand on Tony’s shoulder, stopping him only feet away from the shed. You stretch up and whisper nervously, “Shouldn’t we wait for the rest of the team?” Tony hesitates briefly before shaking his head. You huff out a breath in frustration but follow after him.

Tony splits off from you, sending you towards the back of the shed. You slowly progress forward towards the back door. You wait off to the side of the door, listening as Tony announces himself before pushing the door open. The door flies open and the unsub comes running out, followed closely by Tony. The suspect doesn’t get far though because as he shoots past you, you stick out a leg, sending him crashing to the ground.  

“Don’t move, you’re under arrest.” Tony’s voice is deep with frustration. You haul the unsub to his feet, slapping cuffs onto his wrists. The two of you drag him to the car. Tony gives him a subtle push into the backseat. The drive back to the NCIS goes relatively quickly and the suspect is in the interrogation room, under Gibbs stern glare, shortly after.

A few hours after Gibbs got a confession from the suspect, you were sitting at your desk, completing paperwork for the case. It was well after six, but you didn’t want to leave paperwork for tomorrow. Tony and McGee had gone home about half an hour ago and you knew Gibbs was around somewhere, but you hadn’t seen him in a while.

You had just finished the required paperwork when your desk phone rang. Picking up the phone you answer, “NCIS, Agent Y/L/N.”

There is no sound coming from the other end of the phone call so you repeat your greeting. As you wait for a response, a chill travels up your spine. You quickly write down the phone number before slamming the phone down.

You hurry downstairs, bringing the number with you. Heavy metal music gets louder the closer you get to the door of Abby’s lab and you place your hands over your ears as the door slides open.

“Abby?” You yell into the lab as you move towards her radio. Turning the music down, you call out at a much lower volume, “Abby? Are you here?”

Abby pops up from behind her computer, causing you to let out of a squeak of surprise.

“What’s up chickadee?” Abby cheerfully asks as she moves in your direction.

“Can you run some background on this phone number for me?” You question, handing over the slip of paper with the number on it.

Abby grabs the paper, heading back to her computer. “Just give me a minute.” She starts furiously typing on her keyboard. A moment later, she looks at you before relaying the gathered intel.

“The number belongs to a burner phone so I couldn’t get a name. And the call didn’t last long enough for me to trace it, sorry Y/N.” You nod your head, the information disappointing but you hadn’t been expecting anything promising.

“Thanks, Abs. And could you keep this between us? I don’t need the team knowing, especially Gibbs.” You reply as you start moving towards the lab door.

Abby looks a bit confused before nodding. “Of course Y/N.”

You wave a good-bye before retreating back up to the bullpen. Your heart is thudding in your chest and you can’t bring yourself to head back towards your motel room just yet, so you sit back down at your desk. Sitting at your desk becomes leaning back in your desk chair, which eventually became resting with your eyes closed.

A deep voice causes you to snap up out of your chair and place your hand on your holstered gun. Your eyes scan the bullpen in a panic until they land on Gibbs standing in front of you. His electric blue eyes bore into your Y/E/C eyes. He reaches out a hand, placing it gently on top of the hand resting on your gun holster.

“Y/N, why don’t you go home?” His quiet voice manages to slow your racing nerves.

“I don’t feel safe in that motel room. And I got a weird call earlier that didn’t sit right with me.’” You answer truthfully, knowing that you never have to hide what you were feeling from him. And even if you did, he would find a way to figure out what you were hiding from him.

His hand grips yours before saying, “Come home with me. You’ll be safe there.” His words consume you with an intense feeling of love and you know that the safest place you could be was with Gibbs. You nod your head and follow him out of the office.

--—

The night you spent at Gibbs’ was the safest you had felt since even before you had joined the Witness Protection Program. And Gibbs made it easy for you to forget the fear you’d felt since returning home, even if it was just for a night. The fear that this was all a mirage and you’d be killed by those who were after you before you could enjoy your life again. Before you had the chance to tell Gibbs how you felt about him.

Although you had the weekend off, a case early Saturday afternoon had you forgetting about your need for a permanent residence, other than the crappy motel room you were staying in. You arrive at the crime scene shortly after leaving Gibbs’ house. You had spent a good amount of the morning watching Gibbs work on his boat, allowing yourself to simply relax in his presence.

DiNozzo gets to the crime scene at the same time as you and the two of you walk towards the tape together. Just before you reach the body, your cellphone rings. You grab it, glance at the caller ID, and answer with a “Hello?”

Silence answers from the other end. The hair on your arms pricks up and a shiver runs down your spine. You quickly hang up, ignoring the strange look Tony gives you, and block the number on your phone.

Just then Tony’s phone rings and you rapidly say, “Don’t answer that”, as you place a firm hand on his forearm.

Tony’s brow is wrinkled in confusion as he looks at you. “Y/N, it’s only McGee.” His gentle voice brings you to reality as you realize you just freaked out on your own best friend.

You mumble out an apology before rushing ahead to the body. You don’t even hear a word Ducky says about the victim and you almost miss Gibbs sending you to the victim’s house with McGee as he and DiNozzzo go to interview the victim’s boss and co-workers.

You and McGee search the victim’s house, finding nothing out of the ordinary. The ride back to the office was uneventful, with McGee trying to make small talk, but you were quick to shut it down. You weren’t able to think about anything but the fear swirling around in your brain after this morning’s event.

Walking into the bullpen, you are immediately greeted by Gibbs. He barely gave you any time to dump your gear at your desk before dragging you along with him to the elevator.

You watch as Gibbs pulls the emergency stop button and then turn his gaze to you. You wait, unsure of exactly what he wants from you.

“Y/N. Are you safe?” Worry and protectiveness lace through his voice. Although it was a simple question, of only three words, you know that there is more to it than that. His question told you of all the feelings that he hadn’t yet voiced.

“I don’t feel safe Jethro. I feel like I am always looking over my shoulder. And these random phone calls...they scare me.” Your honest confession causes the fear to resurface, bringing tears along with it. Gibbs steps forward, wrapping his arms tight around you, tucking your head in close. You press your face into his chest, finding comfort in the steady beating of his heart.

“We’ll get him. And in the meantime, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” His gentle words remind you of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

“I love you.” You murmur, unable to hold back the truth any longer.

“I know.” And although he didn’t say it back, you know he loves you as well.

[rezdogsyonder]

Changing

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tall!Reader

Summary: Peter has found his soulmate but does she feel the same? Basically a soulmate au but different

Warnings: kidnapping, drugging,

A/N: Peter is aged up. Also I changed his powers just a tiny bit just one thing and the rest is the same.

This peice is unfinished and it will remain unfinished because I’m leaving tumblr and will not be returning. If you wish to continue this you may.

*********

Fuck. Not right now. Not today.

That’s all you can think as you’re nearly late for your first day as an photographer. It isn’t the first place you wanted to work for but you need the money. Well probably not a “real” photographer. You’re not hired for the job on a regular basis, but for their front page photos of Spider-Man. It’s cool, Spider-Man won’t let anybody else take his photos.

Well, it’s not really your first day but it’s the first day that Jameson is actually considering you as his official Spider-Man photographer. Before you usually would email him asking if he needed more photos and now he is finally now telling you that you’re going to be the official photographer for the weekly Spider-Man pieces.

You have started a blog for the hero and hopefully it will gain traction and maybe you’ll get to make an income from it. But for now you have to sell your photos to the Daily Bugle.

The rent is due Friday and you get a check from the gas station you work at that day, it won’t be enough to cover it though. But with a check after each batch of photos you provide will put you way over the green this pay day.

You’re rushing about your medium sized 1 room apartment. This place was a gem, the only reason this place was as cheap as a studio is because a billboard was directly across from the extremely large windows. Lighting up your entire apartment. It didn’t bother you much, it saved on electricity from never having to turn on the lights and all you needed was blackout curtains in your room.

You are not changing shirts but you squeeze into a pair of black pants. The grey boyfriend cardigan getting tucked in the back, but it doesn’t deter you from running to the bathroom and vigorously brushing your teeth. You’ll have to forgo the entire makeup routine but you have time for foundation and mascara.

Rushing back into your bedroom you pull a pair of socks from the top drawer of your dresser and look at your alarm clock. 9:42. 18minutes till you’re late. Well you know in Jameson’s eyes you are already late but he screams at you no matter what.

Your second shoe is tied, you got your purse and it has your wallet, phone, and keys already. You run out of your room and in the hallway of the complex. Fuck, locking these doors seems to be the longest part of leaving. 3 locks, self installed with the extra long screws. Never needed this much security before but some blind asshole next door seems to always be getting into fights. Like what the fuck, how hard is it to not fight someone, and then he leads them here.

Once the doors are locked and you’re out of the building you look at your phone. 9:44. 16 minutes to go around 2 miles. Well broadway cuts across, so probably less, but anyways you gotta run it. Now you’re not the most fit person, but you are able to push yourself more than what others would think you’d be able to.

Dodging people and avoiding running into the road, you make it to the first turn. Basically a straight shot now, but it seems as though people are wanting to be in your way today. You would love a bike right about now. Though you’d have a really high chance of getting hit by a car. But it’s right about the same risk since you are not stopping at the do not walk signs.

One car almost did hit you, but it braked in time but not without you slapping the hood as you went by. Not on purpose but from loss of balance. Well you probably would have slapped it anyways. Your face burns from the run, and the heat, it is the end of summer but it is still pretty hot out.

Oh god, this is awful, you’re just a more than halfway and you nearly ran into an old man and his wife outside of m&m world.

“Sorry!” You shout back but it’s not very loud and sounds winded. You won’t stop though.

Just a couple more turns. Just two more turns. Just one more. You keep telling yourself that you’re almost there, legs straining the muscles from the over exertion.

You get into the building and run to the elevator. You know you probably look unprofessional right about now but you don’t care. You just need to catch your breath.

You press the right floor and dig through your purse. The small mirror being a lifesaver as of recently, since being late is seeming to become a common ovccurance. You pat your forehead with the sleeve of your cardigan. You don’t look too bad, but not the best. You check the time, 9:58. Not bad, you’ll be just 1 minute early. The elevator ride giving you just enough time to breath properly.

The elevator doors open to the busy floor, and you go over to Jameson’s assistant, not even reaching her desk before she points her pen behind her to his office.

“L/N!” He immediately shouts, “Where are those photos?” He is still looking out the window behind his desk.

“Right here sir,” you pull the envelope out of your purse holding it out for him to take it. Which he does, ripping the lip of the envelope and begins examining your photos.”

“850. Tell Betty on your way out.” He plops you’re photos on his desk.

“850? That’s not my rate, there are 12 photos there.”

“These just aren’t worth your usual rate. 850.” He argues back, you’ve seen this before, had you been any smaller or even sitting he would have put his hands on his desk and leaned towards you to seem intimidating, but right now he looks like a child with his hands balled at his side.

“65 per photo or I go to The Post.” You won’t back down. That’s nearly a thousand, and you don’t want to let it go, even if it is less than 200 more than what he offered but you need it.

He stares at you, he’s turning red now in the ears. You collect your photos calling his bluff.

“Fine,” he grumbles, he presses a button on the small speaker on his desk, “Betty, write out a check for L/N for 975.” He released the button and you put the photos down. “Get out of here, she’ll call when we have another piece.”

“You’re a peach,” you smiled as you back out of his office. “Hey Betty, how’re you doing this week?”

“Just fine, but his wife wants me to control his anger as soon as his meds are sorted. Not looking forward to that.” She finishes filling out the check on her computor, and with one last click that is so familiar to you now, you know she printed it.

“Jesus, I do not want to be here for that.” You step back four steps to the printer and rip off the receipt at the bottom that she needs to keep and hand it to her. “Good luck, because you will need it. Thanks, see you next week!” You wave bye as the doors close.

Letting out a sigh of relief, and tucking your check into your wallet. You’re glad you won’t have to worry anymore. With this check you’ll have four or five hundred more than you’ll need for rent, meaning you won’t have to scrape by for grocerys.

You better hurry though, you have an hour till your next shift at the gas station and you still need a shower.

**********

The hours are going by slowly, with few customers to keep you distracted. Just 4 more hours and you get to call it a night. It has already been 6 hours since you clocked in and there had only been a handful of customers, making the day uncharacteristically slow.

Your phone begins vibrating on the small fridge below the counter, the shift managers name on the display screen. Seeing as there’s no customers you think it is fine to answer.

“Hello? Debby?” You greet subconciously.

“Y/N I have some bad news.” She pauses, “the person who is supposed to relieve you is refusing to come in. She quit.”

“What am I supposed to do? I’ve been here since 11:30, I don’t think it’s allowed for me to work past 1. Wasn’t her shift supposed to last till 8?”

“Yes I know but you are legally allowed to work till 4:30, and that is when I’ll take over because I cannot find another person to cover her shift. It’s only alright because I’m switching your shift tomorrow with Alex and you’ll have the day off to recuperate. Then it’s your usual day off the next so I think that’s enough time to get back to normal.”

“So I’m leaving at 4:30?” Disbelief evident in your voice.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I would get there now but John doesn’t come home until late tonight because he took the graveyard shift at his job and I can’t leave J.C. alone.”

“Yeah I understand, family comes first.”

“Thank you, you’re the best. See ya later.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You put down your phone and mentally prepare yourself for another 11 hours.

**********

Three red bulls, and a seasonal pumpkin spice coffee from the dispenser and it was almost midnight.

Many more customers has came in after the call, the universe seemingly wanting to tire you out further. Then it began slowing down again after 9. The time you were supposed to be going home if Patricia didn’t fucking refuse to come in.

It was about that time that a young man came in, wearing a dark suit but without the blazer. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Light brown hair and pale skin, he looked breathtaking. He quickly rounds to the back grabbing three of the big bottles of water.

“Just these for me...” he trails off as he sniffs, then he looks up and makes eye contact with you.

You two are staring at each other for a few seconds, his stare becoming unbearable and you look away.

“Ok sir... that’ll be 5.97.” You still feel his gaze. Refusing to look up, you bag his things. You hear his card slide through the machine.

“Thank you sir, have a nice night.”

“Yeah... you too.” And with that he was gone. Leaving you to think about this stranger for the rest of your shift.

**********

As promised, Debbie came at 4:30. You left to walk home. It was nice living basically across the street from your work. A short walk, but you still felt a sense of unease.

Looking all around you, you don’t spot any suspicious people. Not even one heading in the same direction as you. You let out a small sigh as you cross the road. But it does nothing to calm your nerves.

You’re trying not to seem panicked as you try to get through the door to your building but it might be obvious with how you’re shaking.

Past the door you let go if your breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Finally able to calm down. You walked to apartment, using the elevator instead of the stairs.

Once at your door your heart beat seems to have gone back to normal, but before you even put your key in the door you feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s just a chill.

Unlocking all the locks you go inside, greeted by the bright pink fluorescent lights. You shut the door behind you and drop your bag on the floor. Too tired to care. Moving to go into your room, knowing that you’re not going to change into pajamas either.

Well probably take of the pants. Yeah, jeans are never comfy.

Shoes kicked off, pants off, bra off with some difficulty from your long sleeves, blankets pulled back and you’re ready for bed. You’re getting in when you hear a creek in the living room, but you don’t see anyone so it’s maybe the upstairs neighbours.

You turn around once more to lay down and you feel a pinprick at your neck. You slump over and you feel hands at your shoulders, picking you up in their arms.

Eyes won’t open, and you are quickly losing consciousness.

“Shh, you’re safe with me.”

*********

Your head is pounding, that’s what wakes you up. You still feel groggy and it makes your eyelids feel incredibly heavy. You want to sleep for more but your eyes keep fighting to open.

Once they do you are met with a room that is not your own. Everything is white, except the headboard which is a light grey, matching the bedside table. You look around, about 6 feet from the foot of the bad is a back door and there’s a bathroom to the left of the bed with the door wide open.

You run to the closed door, you grasp the handle but you get a head rush and are unable to turn the handle for a good 5 seconds. It’s no use though, the door was locked, and it doesn’t seem like a regular lock. It seems more advanced, it’s a regular handle but it’s warm, and doesn’t have any keyhole. It’s also not as big as a hotel handle, like the ones with the scanners. Irrelevant, but your mind is running a million miles an hour and you’re trying really hard to not panic.

You realize that you aren’t wearing your pants but a pair of sweats were at the edge of the king bed. You quickly pull them on. Your kidnapper has already seen your ass, but it’s a little bit comforting. Your bladder is full and it is more apparent now than a couple minutes ago.

They aren’t here yet, better be quick. You half jog into the bathroom it has a large sink and a nice looking shower, but you don’t want to use it due to there being no lock on the bathroom door and the shower door is glass. Not even one of those blurred glass doors, it is crystal clear.

You had already peed and we’re washing your hands when you hear a small beep and the locks opening. You’re drying your hands when you hear a knock at the door. You don’t answer.

Another knock, you stared at the door, a low sigh is heard and the door swings open.

It was the man from last night, except now he was covering his eyes with his hand.

“I swear I’m not looking but please come out right now.”

“... alright.” You’re voice is a little rough and just above a whisper.

“Thank you.” He turned around leaving the door open and you follow.

“Come with me.” he waves his hand over the lock and the beep is heard again.

He leads you through the door into a long hallway, when he turned to the left so did you. There’s no point in running when he would catch you in less than 2 seconds.

You pass by 4 doors, one on your left and three on your right. The fifth door on the right you entered and it was an office.

“Sit.” And you did, he sat behind the large desk and leaned forward with his elbows on it. “I need to tell you something that would be hard to hear. Hell, hard to believe, but just know that everything I’m telling you is true.”

You nodded when he paused and looked at you. You felt so out of place and uncomfortable. Heart beating so fast and hard, it feels as though it’s bursting out of your chest. Your hands slightly shaking and feet tapping where you sat on the edge of this obviously expensive chair.

“I’m going to be frank with you alright? You are my soulmate.”

You freeze, “wait... what?” You didnt believe it, he was right. He’s crazy. Soulmates were a rare thing in this world. How would he know? He only knew you for 5 seconds so why does he know? Why would he take you?

“We are soulmates. I felt it when I first met eyes with you, I know that you did too. I took you here because, to put it simply, you would be safe. There are many people after me and if they learned of your existsence they would find you and use you against me.”

“H-how do I know your not lying?” You stare at the lines in the wood of his desk, refusing to look up. When you look him in the eyes you feel the same pull that you did back at the gas station. You hear rustling and you glance up for just a second, then you look back when you realize it’s just his arm that he wants you to look at.

He begins rolling his sleeves like the way you saw last night. Or was it even still the next day? You don’t know. Not seeing any clock or any windows since you were at your home.

Beautiful lines are spread across his forearm and you realize it wasn’t there before. “Can you look at your arm?” His voice is gentle, like he’s trying to be comforting.

You stare at his arm as you pull your sleeve up, then you look down at a blank arm. You pull up your other sleeve just as roughly and see the same tattoo that he has. You touch it gently as though it’ll smear if you are as rough as you were two seconds ago.

“Mine showed up a little after I stepped out of that store. I guess you didn’t notice yours.” You rub at yours and it won’t come off, and the skin isn’t raised as though you have a regular tattoo.

“What does this mean?”

“This means that you are now mine.” You feel tears welling in your eyes.

“So I can’t go home?”

“No, and some things are going to change.” You look at him wide eyed, fearful for the changes that he has in mind.

“So I’m sure you have heard of the powered people of New York, and I am telling you that I am one of them. Not only that, but I am a member of the avengers.” He pauses, you feel his eyes on you and you can only assume he is trying to gauge your reaction. “But I didn’t achieve my abilities through government testing or anything of the sort. I was bit by a mutant spider and I gained the spiders abilities.”

“You’re... Spider-Man?”

“That’s right. Now that you’re here, I will have to give you the same abilities I have so that we will be on equal grounds.”

“How are you going to do that?” You look up at his face.

“I will bite you of course.”

[forever--darling]

the frat boy’s boxers - s.m.

college frat au

warnings: 5.7k words of new beginnings, first day jitters, and the meeting of the roommate

prologue

It was late, dark, and the sun was no longer looming over campus. Your pulse quickened and your palms were dripping in sweat as you stared up at the three story house. The window was left cracked open and you watched as the breeze swayed the white curtains from side to side. This was insane and beyond anything you had ever done but you knew it was unavoidable. If you wanted to get into Alpha Delta Pi, it had to be done. 

You could feel the lingering eyes of the sorority girls as they crouched behind a line of bushes and internally cursed. Emily had to set up a car wash by herself, Maggie had to teepee another sorority house, and those both sounded better than this; standing in front of frat boy central, forced to steal sophomore and hockey player Shawn Mendes’ boxers.

2 weeks ago

As you drove down the winding road, you couldn’t help but come to a stop in front of the entrance. The large stone sign stood proudly for all to see as they drove by and into the start of the next chapter of their lives. Tan bricks and copper letters stuck out from the sign marked the beginning of everything. In your packed black Volkswagen golf, you twisted your neck down as you stared out the window towards the sign. You blinked at it, hardly believing it was real and with a small uneven breath, you pushed your foot back on the gas and surged forward. Within seconds, you were back driving on the road, hands tightly around the steering wheel as your eyes scanned the newfound area.

Two years ago, no one ever expected that you would venture more than a few miles away from your house. That you would settle into the local university because that’s what your parents wanted. Or more specifically what your mom wanted. No one ever thought after what happened in the winter of 2016, you would have left your hometown in exchange for another state entirely. It was two years of being locked away in your house with little access to anywhere except school or your bedroom, and you had quickly gotten sick of its light yellow walls.

Your junior and senior year were spent bent over your homework and college prepping. You were doing anything to get you as far away from that place you used to call home. You needed to get away for a while, from your overprotective and over loving parents and your twenty-four-year old sister who had moved back home. 

You used to love high school. With so many friends and guys wanting your attention, it was a fun two years then somehow the other two went down the drain by the two people who procreated you. Junior and senior you worked your ass off and above all else, obeyed your parents and clearly it paid off when you finished third in your class. You obeyed your parents, so it came much of a surprise when you told your family that instead of the local university that only stood ten minutes away, you would be attending the University of Washington. 

It came to quite a shock, not only was the college in another state but on the other side of the country. Thousands of miles away from the only place you had ever known. It became even worse when you had packed up your car and refused to let your parents drive you. They were so shocked and so heartbroken that they barely were able to protest when you gave them a faint goodbye, long bone crushing hugs, and pulled out of the driveway.

Maybe, they were so certain that you relied on them and that town so much that you would never leave their sides. Or maybe they felt like they didn’t need a large goodbye and that you would be back in their arms within months of being away. That the thought of being alone in a foreign place would send your anxiety through the roof and ultimately drive you back home after what happened when you were just sixteen. 

You had thought about the incident plenty of times. It was what changed your family and ultimately broke it. It was that very terrifying memory that drove the scary thoughts that you would be back in that small town in records time. And throughout the whole drive that took days to get to your destination, the reality hadn’t set in until you saw that sign. It was then as you stared at the letters, that you knew that if you didn’t want to run then, you weren’t going to want to run back home maybe ever. 

Some time between graduation and driving onto campus, things changed in you. You felt like you when you were sixteen again except this time more free. Changing that obedient student who stayed in on the weekends to study for tests weeks in advance, to someone who wanted to go out and do all of the things she missed out on. She became someone that wanted to be the one who went out with friends and got drunk at parties on the weekends. 

She wanted to be the girl that went on dates with random college guys on campus. She wanted to sleep with a boy and then kick him out of her dorm room the next morning. Somewhere between being eighteen to nineteen, the old you resurfaced. Like your parents weren’t there, trying to hide the world from you anymore. You were now a young adult who was capable of taking care of herself. In fact you were a college student who had no intentions of returning home to just sit back in that sad house and stare at those walls all day, separating you from the world that you had yet to know anything about. 

Now here you were no longer dressed in those baggy grey sweatpants and holey oversized hoodies, face bare, with your hair pulled out of your face. Instead, hair flowing freely down your back, makeup gracing across your features as you wore a pair of tight fitted blue jeans with a white long sleeve t-shirt and a red flannel. Bunny slippers left lazily behind in the closet that was filled with your brother’s t-shirts and cozy socks. In their place was a pair of white converse laced tightly against your feet providing comfort and style. This was who you were at the moment and you couldn’t wait to go and have some fun. 

As you were pulling into a parking lot near the hall that supposedly housed your dorm, you had caught a glimpse out of your window at the quad. A vast green area filled with small paths and large cherry blossom trees. They scattered the lawn providing shade and comfort away from the raging halls and campus parties. There was a part of you that wanted to just pull the car over and run to get a better look at the area, but knew that you had other things to do like eat and unpack. Maybe sleep. You had been in this car for far too long and now that you were here, there would be plenty of time to explore later. 

Pulling the car into an empty parking spot, you turned it off and took the keys from the ignition, stuffing them into the pocket of your jeans. You opened the door and climbed out, stretching your arms over your head as you did so. Looking around, you could only see a few students hugging their parents goodbye all having tears in their eyes or traveling down their faces. You knew if you had successfully found the main hall to ask someone about where the keys to your dorm and schedule were that you would no doubt see the same thing but to a higher level. 

You could have easily stopped and asked the many students that had been walking around the campus, especially the ones that were dressed in purple school tee shirts, bright smiles pulled across their faces about where to go. But for some unknown reason, you kept driving towards Parker Hall, thinking that your roommate was probably already settled into your sharing room and could just escort you to get your keys and your schedule. It was the best idea you had at the time since you were a freshman and didn’t know where anything was. Also considering, you were there without your parents, your roommate was the only option you thought you had at the moment. 

You convinced yourself so much that you wandered into the building and up the stairs already gaining a sniff of the musty hallways that were coated in white paint. Your eyes scanned the hall that seemed to be empty with doors closed and already decorated with pictures and names of the girls that resided with them. Suddenly at the sound of a small hiss, your eyes directed towards the end of the hall and felt relieved at the sight of one door open on the end where a blonde girl was struggling to pull in a large mattress. Were we supposed to bring our own mattresses? You thought to yourself as you approached the girl trying to wipe off the confused and slightly frustrated look on your face. 

“Need some help?” you asked, your voice gaining the attention of the girl. 

Her head lifted revealing her smooth pale skin and large green doe eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail at the top of her head, curling at the end. She was around the same height as you dressed in a pastel pink sweater with a white collar and a pair of jeans to go with her squeaky clean white sneakers. Realizing you were talking to her, she nodded with a soft smile as you proceeded forward and grabbed the other end of the mattress. You began to push as she pulled, already feeling the mattress slowly shift forward through the door. 

“Were we supposed to bring our own mattresses or something?” you asked, glancing at the stainless plush padding in your hand as your grip on the corner tightened, feeling your nails sink into it. 

“No,” the girl replied, yanking at the mattress as her cheeks puffed out in discontent, “I just prefer it more than the ones they provide.” 

“So, is there a reason you are trying to pull it into your room by yourself then?” 

“Oh, yeah well I told my mom that I could handle it so she left and as soon as my roommate laid eyes on it she stormed out of the room,” she explained as the mattress moved forward about halfway into the room. “I’m Emily, by the way. Emily Willard.” 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you chuckled at her attempts to make introductions now of all times. 

After that, silence consumed the both of you besides the casual grunt or hiss as your muscles burned from pushing and lifting at the mattress. Minutes later, you had managed to get it all the way into the small quaint room and nestled into the wooden bed-frame that sat up against the wall of the room. It was opposite of the other bed that was already made and full of decorative pillows. You let out a loud sigh after the mattress fell into its place onto the frame and ran your fingers through your hair, feeling the small beads of sweat that had gathered at your hairline. 

“Thank you,” Emily smiled while bending over and holding onto her knees. 

“Yeah, no problem,” you laughed, smiling back at the blonde. 

As another minute passed, she finally stood back up seeming to have recovered from the lifting. She began to put a few boxes onto the mattress as she made conversation, “So have you gotten moved in yet?” 

“Actually, no.” you admitted, causing her movements to stop and look over her shoulder towards you, “I was wondering if you knew which room was Maggie… Harting’s. I’m her roommate.” 

“Oh, yeah. I met her. Dressed in leather. Total badass. She’s actually just across the hall, met her when my mom and I were unloading boxes,” Emily said, gesturing towards the hallway. 

“Cool. Thanks.” the words were short as your attention now was drawn to the hallway and your new roommate that you had yet to meet but now were intrigued by. 

“Not have your keys yet?” Emily’s voice perked up causing you to turn back towards her. 

You shook your head as your hand found its way into your jean pocket fiddling with the material on the inside, “No, I don’t know where to get them. Just thought it would be easier to find the roommate and ask her instead of question one of the purple greeters.” 

Emily laughed as you referred to the upperclassmen that were sprawled across campus ready to help and answer any questions to settle in the freshman or new students. “I completely understand. Well, if your roommate turns out to be anything like mine. Feel free to wander across the hall and I’ll be more than happy to show you where to go or help you move in.” 

“Thanks, that sounds great. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” you waved, stepping out into the hallway with a small smile on your lips. 

“Yeah, of course,” she replied reciprocating the wave before her door slowly clicked shut, leaving her to unpack and settle into the small room. 

You took a deep breath as you walked over towards the door that held where you supposedly were going to spend the next, however, months of your life with a stranger as your roommate. Staring at the empty wooden door, one that wasn’t covered in pictures or had a name written across a white board, you lifted your hand and knocked softly. Your heart was beating loudly in the base of your chest at the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. Before you could even think it was pulled open quickly and you were met with exactly what Emily had described.

 Badass dressed in leather. A girl who was a few inches shorter than you stood on the other side of the door with dark black hair that had pink ends pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head. She had olive skin and dark brown eyes that supported a black liner drawn with a wing. With black studded earrings that matched the black choker around her neck, she was wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket that hung over the blue tank top she wore underneath. As your gaze fell towards the ground, they fell on a pair of chunky black boots that had safety pins sticking out of the shoes’ flaps. Slowly, as your eyes lifted back up towards her face, you were met with a smirk etched across her mouth, the corners of her lips lifting ever so slightly. 

“You must be Y/N Y/L/N. I was beginning to think you were dead or lost or not going to show up at all.”

You smiled sheepishly at how she was right with one simple glance at you, “Yeah and you must be Maggie.” 

“You bet your ass I am,” she grinned, throwing the door open to reveal her -- well your room to you. “So what did you lose your key already?” 

You stepped in slowly and shook your head as she closed the door behind you. Scanning the room, you took in the small space. On either side of the room, there were two twin size beds pushed up against the walls, one of which was still left bare. In between the two beds were two nightstands that sat under the only window. Just below each of the beds there were two desks sat up at the wall, yours being the one that sat really close to the door. 

Over towards the bed that Maggie had obviously claimed was two closets one that was probably already filled with her black leather and jeans. With just being in Emily’s room, it looked almost identical to hers except it was in the opposite direction, but you were too focused on trying to drag a mattress through her front door to actually take the time to really look at it. The room still looked not all the way settled though Maggie’s black bedspread was wrinkled and there were clothes thrown over the chair at her desk. She was already settled but with your side still untouched and completely bare, the room overall looked incomplete. 

Realizing that you had yet to answer Maggie’s question, you turned on your heels to see her leaning up against the door looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, no. I haven’t gone to get them yet. I was hoping you would show me where I’m supposed to get them and my schedule if you’re not busy.” 

She snorted out a small laugh as she pushed herself up and off the door, “Please, I’ve been here since this morning practically waiting for you to get here so I’d be more than welcome to escort you to your keys.” 

With that, she pulled open the door and strode out in the hallway giving you a view of the shave at the back of her head that was right above her neck. You stared at it for a second before you followed, closing the door behind you. From there you walked alongside her down the stairs and out of Parker Hall. She led you past the parking lot where your car sat, abandoned, and full of your shit towards who knows where. 

For the next seven minutes, Maggie walked you down towards the main hall passed the groups of settling students and towering pine trees. All while making conversation of her home. She lived around an hour and a half away with her parents, younger sister, and Nana. Her dad was a huge business man and had a lot of money which was partly the reason she was able to get into this college. Not once had she seemed bothered by her father’s money and was rather comfortable explaining to you what her relationship was like with him and back at home. She also talked about what high school was like and how she had broken off things with her hot boyfriend of four years that drove a motorcycle. 

Your favorite part was when she talked about her old friends and though people thought that they were bad news because they wore leather, they really were just hilarious outcasts that pulled pranks on each other all day. Just as you gained sight of the main hall that was lined with college students and parents all signing in and getting their own keys and schedules, you were pulled aside by Maggie’s arm gripping your elbow. 

“What?” you asked, eyeing her raised eyebrows and curious smile. 

You may have not picked up on it because you were pulled into her stories of home but she had easily noticed that you hadn’t said anything about yourself or your family. “You haven’t said anything about what it’s like where you’re from. Why aren’t your parents here dropping you off?” 

Sighing at the question, only made her raise her eyebrows higher and you knew that because you would be living with her for the school year that you wouldn’t be able to keep everything from her forever. “It’s a long story. Simple answer, I didn’t want them to so instead I just packed up my car and drove here myself.” 

You went to turn back towards the line but Maggie’s hand refused to fall from your arm and instead tightened causing you to look back at her, getting a little annoyed. “Wait, where are you from?” 

Taking a deep breath, you muttered the name of the small town and watched as no recognition passed over her face but only scrunched up further into confusion. “Where’s that?” she asked. 

“It’s across the country. Twenty-six hours across the country,” you replied, rolling your eyes lightly as hers widened, causing her brown orbs to broaden and her mouth to fall open. “Look I’ll explain as soon as we get my keys and schedule okay?” 

Her confusion instantly fell away and in its place was pure determination. She smirked and her head tilted to the side as a glint filled her eyes. Her hand that had still yet to fall from your arm yanked as she turned around and began to drag you up towards the tables that sat in front of the main hall. She pulled you behind her as she passed fellow new students and parents resulting in some to gasp or call out the fact that you were cutting. 

As you made it to the front, Maggie pushed aside a tall raven haired boy who was in the middle of asking the girl sitting at the table something, who was dressed in the same purple shirt you had seen on many people by now. He hissed as he stood off to the side feeling his mother placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He glared daggers towards Maggie and your eyes widened as his arm reached out to grab a hold of her leather jacket. 

“Hey, don’t you know it’s rude to cut. We all want to get settled in as much as you do, alright,” he hissed again, his chest rising up and down as he spat the words. 

Maggie finally turned to look at him, seeming unbothered by his killing glare so much that she sent a smug grin instead. “Oh, put a sock in it. It’s not like we’re going to stand around asking questions to stall having to say goodbye to mommy and daddy. We just need our keys and schedules then we’ll be on our way.” 

You could hear the gasp came from the boy’s mother at his side, causing his face to swell and turn red in anger but instead of stepping forward to spit more insults at your roommate, he looked away from her and began to tap his foot impatiently on the concrete ground. Maggie rolled her eyes at his childish antics before turning back towards the upperclassman that stood silent watching the scene play out. She was tall with straight honey colored hair and pale skin, her award-winning smile now vanished. Though looking like she was about to protest, she was silenced by Maggie’s piercing glare.

“Okay, we’re here to get keys and a schedule,” she said calmly, leaning down with her hands grabbing at the end of the table. 

“What hall?” the girl asked, her voice soft, still refusing to look up. 

Maggie bit onto her bottom lip as her index finger began to scrape against the table, “Parker Hall, Y/N Y/L/N.” 

Silently the upperclassman began to push through the files sat on the table and after about a minute or so pulled out a cream colored folder along with a key hung around a dark purple spiral wrist key chain. Holding out the folder and wrist band, Maggie plucked it from her hands and smiled sweetly, “Pleasure doing business with you.” 

She then took a hold of your elbow again and led you away from the table making sure to send a shit eating grin towards the boy and his parents. You were still shocked by the whole thing even as you were walking back towards your hall folder and key in hand. 

You began to thumb through the folder, locating your schedule that had your classes and where they were located but were pulled away from the wristband in your hand. The silver whistle was colliding with the set of keys causing a small clink as you walked. Your eyebrows furrowed on it and as you looked up towards Maggie, who was walking eyes glancing from the sidewalk to her phone, you spoke up to ask. 

“What’s with the whistle?” you asked, causing Maggie to look over towards you and the wristband in your hand. 

“U.W. rape whistle.”

“What?” you asked, surprised by the answer but realizing that it could have made sense with that it was a much bigger campus smacked in the middle of a city.

She looked back over towards you and perked up before opening her mouth for a high pitch voice to replace her own. “Blow it only if it’s actually happening.” 

You quickly caught on that she was imitating the upperclassmen or whoever clearly gave her the set of her keys and schedule. Chuckling, you shake your head and move the spiral wristband around your wrist putting the whistle aside from your thoughts. You didn’t talk again until you got back to the hall and as Maggie went to head towards the door she stopped upon noticing you walk into a different direction. She followed to finally lay eyes on your Volkswagen golf that was all the way filled from the trunk all the way to the passenger seat with boxes and suitcases. 

“Okay, wow,” she said, shoving her phone back into the pocket of her jeans as she watched you pull open the passenger door and grab a cardboard box. 

“What, didn’t I say that I drove here?” 

“Yeah, but I never expected this,” Maggie shrugged as you grabbed a backpack and swung it on your shoulders while taking another smaller box for her.

“Well, I did drive twenty-six hours and I don’t plan on driving back any time soon,” you admitted, closing the passenger door and heading towards the door of the hall. 

Maggie followed all the way in and up the stairs towards the hall. You stopped in front of your door as you noticed a blonde ponytail in the hall writing on a whiteboard with a pink dry erase marker. At the sound of your steps, she turned a smile instantly falling on her face as she saw it’s you. 

“Hey,” she said, moving away to reveal the door to her room. It was decorated with pink cut out hearts and flowers all surrounding a whiteboard that had ‘Lindsey & Emily’ written across in perfect cursive with the color pink. 

“Hey, nice job on the door!”

“We are so not doing that to our door,” Maggie leaned over to you, mumbling underneath her breath. 

Emily ignored Maggie’s comment, “Thanks, need some help?” 

You nodded, moving to open the door to your room, “Yes, please.” 

Once you unlocked the door, Emily held it open for you as you walked in and dropped the box that happened to be filled with books onto your bed, a sigh leaving your lips as you did. You turned back to the door to see Maggie following and setting the box at the end of the bed just as she a glance towards the blonde in the doorway. “Maggie, you’ve met Emily right? She’s just across the hall.” 

“Yeah we have,” Maggie smiled, sending a short wave, “Hey!”

 Emily smiled as you exited back out of the room and began to head down the stairs towards your car. They both followed you, hot on your heels when Maggie’s voice broke the silence as your vehicle came back into view. “So, can I ask questions now or do you need to wait until Em is out of ear shot?” 

You rolled your eyes playfully as you popped open the trunk and began to look at what had been stuffed in a day or so prior. “You can ask.” 

“What are you asking about?” Emily voiced, curious at her name being brought up by Maggie. 

“Oh, Y/N here lives in a small town twenty-six hours away and drove here by herself without her parents,” Maggie replied looking over towards Emily, who’s eyes had widened into saucers. 

“Maggie!”

“What? I have a feeling that she is going to be around with us for a while. She’s cool so she can probably know.”

You nodded as you picked up some boxes and began to place them on the ground for them to pick up, “Alright fair enough. You can ask two questions, that’s it. Then once everything is unloaded out of the car and into our room, I will allow you to ask more as I unpack. Okay?” 

They both nodded in agreement as they went to pick up the boxes. Maggie being the first to ask a question. “So why didn’t you want your parents to come?” 

Picking up another box full of clothes, you followed them as they turned towards the hall, “It’s complicated but basically I wanted to do this on my own. Prove a point, plus I didn’t want them to have to drive all the way over here and then drive back.” 

“Fair enough,” Maggie said, beginning to climb up the brown dirt covered stairs. 

“One more,” you stated voice sharp, “Better make it good because it will be at least twenty minutes before I answer any more.” 

“Why here?” Emily asked cutting off Maggie before she could get the chance, “I mean I can barely stand that I’m two hours away but twenty-six. Why choose Washington?” 

You were about to walk through the door of your room but stopped in the doorway, looking over your shoulder towards the two girls you had a feeling were going to become close friends of yours. You sighed, your eyes falling to the floor as you spoke, “It’s far away that no one knows who I am and I can get a fresh start, plus it’s so far away that I won’t have to go back.” 

*

After you gave two curt replies to the questions asked, the next twenty minutes unloading the car was spent talking about what the school year was probably going to be like, since they couldn’t ask any follow up questions until after everything was unloaded out of the car and up into your dorm room. You could tell that even though they were enjoying the casual conversation, Maggie and Emily were still well intrigued about your intentions of leaving home and coming here. You knew from just looking at them and hearing their lame jokes about the upperclassmen and the purple shirts, that by the time you were upstairs and in your room they would be jumping you with their questions. 

So much so that the second the door slammed shut behind you, leaving the three of you enclosed in the room filled with unemptied boxes and cases, they were basically screaming. After they calmed down, you stuck to your word and told them basically everything. Well most of it. 

The tragedy in your family and the secret with it, you couldn’t mumble out because they were basically still strangers and this was too important. Instead, you told them of what you were like as a kid and why your parents were so set on the idea of you going to local university or taking online classes. You explained the anxiety that had formed in your stomach as a teenager and why you had grown to be so used to blending in with everyone else. By the time you had said that you were here to start fresh and resign from your spot on the sidelines watching, there were smiles spread across both of their faces. 

The first one to speak was Maggie who had expressed her opinion by sending you a solute and yelling out, “you’re a doer not a watcher.” 

They obviously felt that it must be hard being so far away but admired your efforts to break out of your shell and flourish out in the real world. So much that within the next three hours, you all spent time in the dorm room unpacking and talking about everything about one another desperate to gain any information about the new friends you all had made. 

You were straightening out the grey comforter on your bed and fluffing out the pillows when you heard a gasp come from the other side of the room. You turned at the sound towards Maggie’s bed where she sat criss-cross-applesauce, leaning against the wall with Emily’s legs swung over her lap. Her eyes were wide in excitement as her mouth was left slightly parted showing the smile that had formed. You and Emily shared a glance before looking back towards Maggie. 

“What?” Emily asked leaning up on her elbows as Maggie sent a smirk from her towards you. 

“Oh, no. What is it?” you questioned, already having a feeling that whatever was going to come out of her mouth was bound to be trouble. 

Maggie was practically glowing as she moved from the bed and stood up causing Emily’s legs to fall from the bed in the process. “We are now college students and I say it’s time for us to celebrate.” 

“Celebrate, exactly how?” you asked cautiously as she crossed her arms over her chest and popped out a hip. 

“It’s the first day of everyone being back on campus there is bound to be a party somewhere,” she said, raising an eyebrow. 

That’s when you noticed Emily sit up from the bed raising a hand to interject, “Yeah there’s one at the sorority house. Alpha Delta Pi, I think. Usually their parties are for sororities and fraternities only but my roommate said that because it’s the first official day of everyone being back that it’s open for everyone on campus.” 

“I knew that I liked you for a reason,” Maggie stated proudly, “So what do you say, Y/L/N?” 

“A party?” you asked, getting a nod from her causing her bun to bounce a little, “No, I don’t think so I haven’t even finished unpacking yet.” 

“So, you can do that tomorrow,” Maggie persuaded, moving towards your closet that held half of your clothes so far. She thumbed through it before stopping at one hanger that held an off the shoulder black long sleeve shirt that still had the tag on it, “Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to have fun.” 

At her smooth words and the hanger she plucked from within the rack, you felt your heart flutter with nerves. As your eyes scanned from the smug look on her face towards the shirt, and then to Emily who sat with a raised eyebrow and sweet smile, a smirk fell onto your lips with ease. “Yeah, I guess I did. So where’s this sorority house located?”

a/n: hey! here’s the first party of my new series and sorry if it’s a little boring but I wanted to get introductions and the reader’s backstory out of the way. don’t worry shawn will be in the next part! :)

next part

[isthisthingeven0n]

missed opportunity : d.d

brief summary: you’re a popular british youtuber and attend vidcon where you meet the vlogsquad. however, one member is missing and becomes jealous he missed the chance to meet you.

word count: 1.7k requested: yes, by anonymous :) warnings: none that I’m aware of 

* masterlistin’ 

You couldn’t quite comprehend it all, even now as the plane began to descend. In your head, you thought this would be enough time to really come to terms with what was about to happen, but your anxiety surrounding it refused to cease.

“You feeling alright?” Turning your head, your manager slides his blind down and places his hand on yours. You give him a small nod as you rest back in the chair, pulling the blind back up.

Looking outside, you could already tell it was going to be vastly different from home. Here it looked warm, there wasn’t a misleading blue sky where warmth was going to be absent. It looked like something out of a movie, a story you couldn’t believe to be a part of.

Arriving at the hotel with your luggage, you watched through various Instagram stories, checked your mentions to see excited tweets about you finally visiting America. You smiled as you responded to a few tweets before you started filming the welcome pack from Vidcon. 

“I still can’t get over the fact I’m actually in the US.” You collapse down on the bed, looking over at your manager and best friend. 

They both share a look before smiling. “You’ve come a long way, girl.” Your best friend tells you as she collapses down beside you on your bed. “Do you know your schedule?” She asks and you nod.

In all honesty, you learnt your schedule as soon as it came out. Vidcon was an enormous event, and you hadn’t expected to be a big name at the event, but it turns out you were more popular than you could’ve anticipated. You saw your name amongst those you once watched and admired, the sorts that were classed as ‘big’ YouTubers. Seeing your name alongside theirs, it was a surreal feeling, to say the least. 

As you arrive at the venue, you hear someone call your name. You turn your head to smile and wave, only to be approached by a series of fans. You laugh lightly, taking photos and signing things for them before security steps in, escorting you away. “It was lovely to meet you all!” You call out to them as you glance back, seeing them all taking photos or filming you. 

“It might be best if you take the back routes, Miss Y/l/n.” The security guard tells you as you walk with him along with your friend and manager. “These kinda events get rowdy quickly. We want to ensure our guests and visitors remain safe at all times.” He explains and you nod, listening as he directs you backstage where a series of YouTubers will be.

“We’ll catch you later, Y/n.” Your friend tells you as she and your manager begin to wander off, having the freedom to explore, but also record for your vlog.

Taking a deep breath, you walk into the space with a smile on your face. As you look around, most people are already in conversation with one another. You knew most of the creators have been countless times, and many are already friends. 

You pull out your phone as you make your way over to the food and drink, immediately noticing some Yorkshire tea which you’ve been craving. “I guess you really do live up the stereotype.” You turn to see Carly standing beside you with a smile on her face.

A small laugh escapes your lips as you nod. “Well, jetlags getting me hard and tea is my saviour. I think I smuggled a few tea bags in my bra today just in case.” You joke with her (but also you were deadly serious) and she laughs along with you. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” 

“Carly, I love your content. We didn’t know you were coming until we saw you on the Instagram page last week.” She explains and you nod along, squeezing the tea bag before you pour milk into the cup. 

“Yeah, I had a crazy last-minute cancellation that would’ve crossed over when Vidcon was, but because of it here I am.” You tell her with a smile. “So you’re part of the vlogsquad right?” 

She nods and motions to the group of people spread out across one sofa. Most of them you recognise from various videos and social media, but amongst them, the main figure isn’t there. “Most of us are here, David couldn’t make it as he had other commitments.” 

You follow alongside Carly as she introduces you to a series of them, and you sit down with your tea. “Do you really drink like twelve cups of tea a day?” Scott asks you with a laugh.

“Erm, sometimes?” You reply with a smile. “Like if I’m really tired I will, but I’m one of those who will drink tea in the hottest of weathers which isn’t often in England but hey ho.” You sip at your tea, feeling the heat of the mug spreading across your face. 

“God, David will be so jealous he’s not here to meet you.” Jason pipes up and you raise an eyebrow to him, watching as everyone shoots him a look.

Shuffling in your seat, you lean forward. “And why would that be, Jason?” You question, watching as he half laughs realising he said something he clearly shouldn’t have. 

“He’s always wanted you to be in the vlog.” Jason states, only telling you half the truth behind it. 

“How long are you here for?” Kristen speaks up, diverting the conversation from potentially embarrassing David despite him not even being there. 

“Only for the event. I’ve got a flight straight back to London and then I’m off to Paris with Bumble.” You tell them and you can see the disappointment. “Why? Did you guys wanna film some stuff?” 

Everyone looks around, nodding in response to you. “We’ve all seen your videos and honestly you’re naturally funny. Plus you’re British.” Carly states and you shrug your shoulders.

“I mean, I haven’t got any plans between panels and my meet and greet?” You ask them and a few nod. 

Within an hour, you’ve become friends with a few members of the vlogsquad. You stay close with Carly and Erin who help guide you around the venue between panels. 

As the evening draws closer, your jetlag worsens. You continue filming for your vlog, and feature in various other ones all at once. “God I need a shot.” You comment under your breath, not thinking much of it when you hear Scott rise to his feet. 

“Okay, mini party in my hotel room.” He calls out, and a few cheers as your eyes widen. “You called it, Y/n.” He chuckles and you laugh lightly, unintentionally being the cause of a party with the vlogsquad. 

*

The majority of your weekend was spent hanging out and filming with the vlogsquad. It was a surprise you hadn’t anticipated, but you loved their energy. You could tell David was missing, especially as you watched Zane get ridiculously drunk and try to walk through walls. 

As you finished up at your last panel, you knew you would have to head back to pack your bags. You met up with your manager who kept his schedule close to hand. “Okay, last panel officially done. That gives us twelve hours until our flight back to rainy ol London.” He deeply sighs. You know he’s loved being in the sun, even if it’s for work, he can’t get enough. 

“Great.” You half-heartedly respond. 

“Everything okay?” He asks, stopping you in your tracks as you shrug. “Well, that obviously means no. Come on.”

“I just, I like it here a lot. The people are great. And the content I got, amazing.” You say with a light laugh, glancing back to see Scott talking with Jeff. 

“You’ll come back, Y/n.” Your manager reassures you as you nod, following him.

Scott turns his head, noticing you leave. “David really did miss out on this weekend.” He sighs and Jeff nods along. “The girl he likes finally in town, and he can’t even meet her.” 

“That’s some Shakespeare shit.” Jeff comments as they wander backstage as Scott prepares for his final performance of the weekend. 

*

Walking into David’s house, Carly, Erin and Jason hold up Starbucks with a cheer. They smile as they spot David spread out across the sofa, his brows knitted together as he stares at his laptop screen. “How was Chicago, Dave?” Erin asks as she passes David a drink which he gladly accepts.

He takes a sip before pulling a face, passing it back. “It was good. I saw some of your posts from Vidcon.” He speaks softly, not wanting to make it more obvious than it was. “I saw Y/n was there.” He trails off, looking up to see the three of them exchanging a knowing glance.

“Yeah, she was.” Jason comments. “You’d of really liked her.” He adds, making David sigh to himself. 

“She headed home already?” David questions, knowing the answer will already be yes much to his disappointment. 

Deep down he knew you were just another person in the same industry as him. But there was something about you, the quirks you had that left him in awe of you. He wished he could meet you, bring you into a video like most people. Yet, you’re over five thousand miles away. 

“She flew home this morning, probably still in the air.” Carly tells David softly, giving him a small smile. “But she did say she’d love to be in the vlog when she next visits.” 

David lifts his head up, cocking an eyebrow to Carly. “She said that?” He asks like an excited child, talking about his crush. 

“Yeah, she said she’s going to try come over next month I think she said?” Carly questions, looking to Erin who nods. 

“Yeah, next month.” Erin confirms and David smiles to himself. “You going to DM her?” 

Looking over his shoulder, David can feel his cheeks heating up. “I might.” He says coyly. It has been a long time since he’s been on the field, having a crush on someone since Liza. “Do you think she’ll reply?” 

Carly scoffs lightly, rolling her eyes. “David, of course, she will!” 

“Okay okay.” David holds his hands up defensively before he reaches for his phone and goes to twitter. 

Taking a deep breath, he begins to write you out a message and sending it before anyone else can see. “You sent it?” Jason questions, peering over.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll just wait ten hours til she replies,” David says with a laugh, trying to hide his excitement about finally messaging you, even if you don’t reply. 

[cherry3point14]

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 9

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader   Warnings: One big boy word. Late stage violence (like, literally the last line). Word count: 3,122.   Chapter Summary: Guess it’s time to meet your maker. A/N: Dun, dun, dun!!!!!

Ao3 if you prefer

Once again, it was Friday. She woke up a little later than usual because she was working from home on the advise of the Winchesters. She noticed that she was running low on body wash while she showered and added this to her list. She purposefully picked two odd socks to wear—one pastel pink and one baby blue—because under her jeans nobody would notice. Not that she planned on seeing too many people. The day was full of the usual formalities that she expected out of every single day, which she supposed is why she felt so peaceful. Never would she have suspected that this serenity she had found was the calm before the storm. Never would Y/N have thought that this was the tranquility some people experience on the day before they die.

“Like hell, is it,” you respond to the inside of your car as your foot presses a little harder on the gas pedal. Your speedometer zips past the ‘within 10%’ of the speed limit you’d normally drive at until you’re going 90 in a 70. You are, like she says, calm. You’re a great big blanket of calm even speeding along the interstate. Because you know exactly where you’re going. A little suburb that backs onto Lake Easter in Des Moines.

You’d almost hit the road the day before except by the time you’d street viewed the home you were traveling to, memorized three different routes, and talked yourself in and out of going several times; it was too late. What should have been a good day yesterday—a successful rookie mission and an unexpected kiss—had become all about her. Emma Effiel. You’d looked up her social media and scrolled back as far as a Supernatural convention she’d been to some years ago. You’d read an article in her local paper about a pie baking competition she’d won last summer. The paper hadn’t understood her quote as a reference to some books because they had printed it as is: “Dean loves pie.” They hadn’t even questioned who Dean was. Or the reporter must have asked at the time but she’d pretended to know a Dean.

There is a Dean, obviously. The actual Dean. He’s working. He’d called you before you left to tell you they think they have a lead on the shifter. Another death on the other side of town that fits the pattern. They think they can catch this thing now before the insurance claim is even submitted, and put a stop to this. They also think you’re at home, safe and sound, not driving a hundred and something miles to run a quick errand and save your own life.

If everything goes right by the end of the day there will be one less monster in the world and one less voice in your head.

Although it’s not a voice anymore. It’s Emma. She’s in your head.

You slow down when you take exit 9 onto shorter roads with fewer lanes, slowing down is a necessity to not kill yourself on the way to saving yourself. Eventually, you’re chugging along two-lane roads amongst other people going about their lives. A few red lights, some traffic, and then you’re turning onto her road and parking on the street outside her house.

You didn’t know she was home, technically, but there’s a truck in front of her garage. The bumper sticker says ‘driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole’ and you figure it’s a pretty safe bet that she’s inside.

Driving is easy but there’s a lump in your throat when it comes to actually walking to her front door. You’ve been walking since you were 11 months old. This is the hardest it’s ever been to move one foot in front of the other.

Her door is whitewashed wood with a window in the middle. You notice doors because you stand in front of so many, this one just makes you wonder if she’ll recognize you through the glass. If you look how she imagined, or if her brain will be able to even leap to something as crazy as you existing.

She has a doorbell so you press the small rubber button with a lone shaky finger. You hear a classic ding dong reverberate inside her home, although dulled by the walls.

She doesn’t take long to answer the door and once she does you’re paralyzed.

“Hello?”

Even with that one word, it’s her. You’ve heard a thousand or more words in that same vaguely midwestern accent. The interesting thing is actually hearing it outside of your head. Usually, she’s amplified, echoing, taking up the whole of your brain. In front of you, she’s so, to use her own phrase, achingly normal.

“Are you selling something? Because I’m sorry but I’m not interested.”

The door in her hand moves an inch and that triggers you, the thought of this door closing.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, I believe you’re writing a story about me.” You hadn’t planned what to say, you’d been more concerned with getting here, although you suppose that’s not a bad place to start.

She narrows her eyes at you but the corners of her lips curl slightly, caught in surprise and thinking it’s a prank. “Did-Did someone put you up to this? Is this a joke?”

“No-one put me up to this. My name is Y/N and you’re writing a story about me, or about killing me I guess. I’m an insurance adjuster with a crappy car and I drink tea instead of coffee. Yesterday I visited a bank with Dean Winchester. Oh and there’s this.” You lean down and pull the hem of your jeans above your ankles, enough to show her your mismatched socks. One pale pink and one baby blue.

She looks between the two strips of fabric peeking out of your shoes. Her bottom lip trembles and her chest shudders to a stop. And then, when she brings her line of sight back up to your face, she faints.

It happens quickly. One minute she's standing there and the next she's collapsed on the floor like a rag doll. The only thing you can think of is what if someone sees this, so logically you do the only thing you can, you step inside and around her. She's only out for a few seconds, she's opening her eyes by the time you click the door closed.

You go through it again. She's woken up half groggy, half scared, and still questioning who you were. With the addition of now asking why you were inside her home.

The thing is, she knows it's you. That's why she'd fainted. Each time she asks is only confirming the obvious fact. It takes a few minutes but eventually, she admits it out loud. She knows you are who you claim to be, and she knows because an image of you was inside her head. You’d laughed at that, almost certain that she didn’t mean it in quite the same way as you've had to deal with. But that was a whole new can of worms that you hadn’t covered yet.

“How did you find me?” She’s got her legs tucked into her chest and her hands wrapped around a heavy glass filled with some amber colored alcohol. Possibly bourbon but you weren’t going to question her, even if it's still eleven in the morning. She’d made you a tea and although you hadn’t told her, she’d made it exactly how you liked it.

“That, well, wasn’t me actually. I have a friend, Stan, he’s done some work for me before. I asked him to try and find you. I didn’t know if he would manage it, I only had your blog to go on.”

Another gulp of her drink. “My blog? You-you’ve read my blog?”

“Yes. I’ve read it.” You state the fact as simply as possible in short, sharp sentences. She is struggling to some things still by now you’re used to a little crazy.

“But you said you hear-hear me writing it? Did you hear me writing earlier?”

“When you casually mentioned that I die tomorrow? Yes. I don’t hear, God, not all of it. I don’t know why…” you let out this laugh, all strangled and broken. It’s a laugh but you are not happy. The bitterness you’ve buried deep down comes crawling out of your throat. “I don’t know why I hear you at all! I don’t hear all of it though. And there are things I didn’t do, like-like I didn’t sleep with Dean.”

There’s something that looks like relief on her face, which she explains when you pointedly stare at her, “oh I wouldn’t have felt good about forcing you to…you know.”

“You’re planning on killing me.” You deadpan.

She looks like she has no idea what to say to that and you have a thousand things to say, that's kind of why you did the drive, so you continue. “Don’t get me wrong, I kissed him and I think I like him but how do I know when I can hear you? You’re in my head whenever he’s around telling me what I’m feeling and what I’m thinking and… how do I know what’s real and what's your imagination?”

Emma is staring at the melting ice cube in her almost empty glass like she hasn’t heard a word you said, lost in her disbelief. You let her stare. You're trying to be patient, you can appreciate that you’d had a lot longer to get used to this than she had.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe you’re sitting there in front of me, drinking my tea. Talking about my story like it’s…”

“Real?”

She nods, afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she opens it again.

You take a sip of your tea. “Now you know how I felt when I read Supernatural and then Sam and Dean showed up.”

“Wait, you’ve read Supernatural?”

“You didn’t know?”

She shakes her head and you realize that she’d never mentioned it. Your imminent death sure, but she’d never mentioned the books you read and how disarming it had been to meet the characters from them. Only that it was disarming to find out monsters existed at all.

“Fuck, that means Sam and Dean are?”

You manage to smile at that and the idea of her finding your existence to be more impressive than theirs. Even with her bumper sticker. “Yeah, they’re real too. They’re hunting the shifter literally as we speak.”

She creases her brow, “they’re not? They didn’t want to come here?” She must be thinking back to Chuck, to the story of the writer in the book, and how Sam and Dean couldn’t help but investigate.

“I didn’t tell them about you. I mean, I kind of thought I was going crazy at first. Even when you were right about everything I only thought you were right because you were a figment of my imagination, or like, a tumor. I only realized you were,” you wave a hand in her direction, tired of saying the word ‘real’ again, “when I found the story. It’s good, by the way. The story I mean. I read a lot of books, I guess you already knew that, and this is up there. That’s not biased because it’s about me. I thought it would have been weird but actually it was nice to see my life through your eyes. You made me more important.”

Emma nods somehow understanding even if she has no clue, “I can’t believe you read it. Although if we’re playing the game of what I can’t believe the most, it’s definitely still sitting here talking to you.”

Your mind goes back to that part of the story you hadn’t heard but you’d read on your phone. The paragraph had stuck in your head when you read it and in the days since it repeats at particularly quiet moments.

Y/N had never considered herself the main character, not even in her own life. Main characters, those in the books she read, were always so interesting. A tragic past or a troubled present and the perfect amount of development for an interesting future. These characters kept her reading in bed till three in the morning because she needed to know how they would handle their next danger or heartbreak. Or how would that particularly brilliant one figure out who the murderer was with nothing to go on. Main characters could be anything or anyone and next to them Y/N felt so helplessly ordinary. She woke up five days a week and went to her job, she paid her bills on time and went for groceries on Sunday mornings. She always thought she was a supporting character, black and white in a world of color.

She was, of course, absolutely irrefutably wrong.

You hadn’t believed it, a part of you still didn’t believe it now, but that was before you saw the way Emma looked at you. Granted she was the person who wrote it, and yet it was still there in her eyes. Awe. Past the shock and disbelief, this woman was in awe of sitting in a room with her main character. And you remember how you felt reading the story, how much you’d wanted to know what happens. Not only because you wanted to know how you were going to die but because in her story you really were the leading lady. Sam and Dean, the characters you’d poured yourself over in the books, were playing second string to your story arc. You remember how beautiful her words had been and by association, how beautiful you’d been.

That's when you decide to ask the question. The one that you've lost sleep thinking about, the one that you came all this way to ask. Except as it comes tumbling out of your mouth you're not quite cautionary. You're eager to find out.

“How is it going to end?” 

Your house is quiet when you arrive home. It’s barely dark outside but you’ve driven for more hours than you’re used to. Exhausted does not come close describing how you feel. It’s more than a physical exhaustion—although your back is definitely mad at you—after you’d spent hours talking to Emma you’re mentally ready to check out.

Not check out of life, although, in the end, you’d left that decision up to her.

She let you read where she was up to, which was about ready to finish the penultimate chapter. Then she’d mentioned she’d have to revise it now. Even though it was perfect. Even though you found yourself smiling at the screen because it was that perfect.

In all the work to find her, you never stopped to consider that maybe you shouldn’t find her. You weren’t ready to die but you’re finding it hard to decide if you’d get a better-written death than the one written by Emma Effiel.

Yes, that’s an absolutely crazy thing to think and Emma had told you it was crazy when you’d dare to say it to her. And it is crazy. In the end, you'd argued with yourself while storming around her coffee table, making cases for both endings and neither endings.

There was a reason you'd left this decision up to her. You couldn't make it.

If she killed you then at least you’d live forever in literature, and if she didn’t, at least you might get some peace and quiet. Although, if she does kill you, you told her to find a book publisher already so it would at least be worth it.

You should eat but after weeks of a thousand reasons to not sleep your bed is finally calling you. Which is why your phone rings.

“Dean?”

“You want the good news or the bad news?” He sounds more tired than you, not that it's a competition. He's just winning anyway.

You kick your shoes off, “there’s good news?”

A pause that could be a shoddy connection. “Alright, you got me. The bad news ain’t so bad though. The lead was a bust, the guy had been wormfood for weeks but it's not the end of the world. We'll find it."

There's a knock at your door, "thanks for letting me know. Listen, I've gotta go, someones here and then I am going to sleep for a really long time. Talk tomorrow?”

"Someone's there?" You wonder if he's always so nosy. You don’t remember that in the books.

Pushing yourself against the door, you check the peephole, "it's only Laura, she’s probably dropping off some new case for me or something. I am still supposed to be working remember."

Dean must hear how calm you are at your friend showing up because he sighs all relieved down the other end of the phone and Laura knocks again. "Sorry, I really have to go. I'll call you tomorrow Dean."

There's some muttering with someone else and then a faint, "sure," as you hang up. Not that it matters. You could see Dean tomorrow, you hoped to see him tomorrow. In case it does end up as your last day on earth.

Laura grins when you open up, "Hi Y/N. Had something to stop by and bring you."

"And there I was thinking that you missed me.” You feign hurt in your voice. “It’s fine I've got some paperwork anyway, think you could take it in on Monday for me?"

She follows you inside and the last thing you hear is the lock close and, "sure thing. Perfect actually."

You turn back to Laura with a small stack of forms from the bank in your hands. That’s when she rams the butt of her gun, a gun you hadn't seen, against the side of your head.

Continue to the Final Chapter. 

5eva tags: @divadinag​​​ @darthdeziewok​​ @fluentinfiction​​ @witch-of-letters​​ @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog​​ @magnitude101999​​ @alexwinchester23​​   Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles​​ @akshi8278​​​ @bloodydaydreamer​ StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson @starsandmidnightblue​​​ @ceisbill​​​

[caps-lockdown]

Trick or Steve (One Shot)

chHello boo!! I are here to request a Steve x Reader halloween one shot. Where the reading is out trick or treating and runs into a few VERY realistic looking Avengers. Who she then awkwardly learns later on, were actually the real Avengers. Not just guys in costumes. 🤣 can’t wait to read what you come up with for this in Octobeeeeeeer!! 😍😍😍 eeek! So excited!!

As requested by @katurrade! I’ll be posting 4 Halloween themed one shots this month in celebration of over 100 followers and SPOOPY SEASON!!! Hope you enjoy!

In Y/N Y/L/N format.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Rating: PG 13 for violence, language, alcohol, party scene, adult themes (ish)

Words: 5,341

AU because no one died in Endgame, Steve didn’t go back. I can’t move on.

Summary: You’re taking your niece and nephews Trick or Treating proves to be an event in itself, but running into three of the Avengers was not part of your plan.

No beta and so I only own the mistakes and the reader!

Trick or Steve

Take the kids trick or treating your sister said. It will be fun she said.

And so here you were, taking yet another picture of yet another group of knock-off Avengers at precisely six thirty on the evening of Halloween, listening as your two nephews and niece squealed over the men dressed in painstakingly obvious mass produced costumes. They had been nice enough sure, one poorly body painted Hulk giving the kids some of the candy out of his bag when they complained the houses they had been hitting during the night were being stingy with their offerings. A  very tan, we’re talking spent- his-whole-summer-on-a-cruise-ship –in-the-Bahamas tan Hawkeye helping the youngest of the three pose correctly. It was quite cute.

“My feet hurt!” The five year old aforementioned child whined and you were suddenly aware of two things.

One, you were in no rush to have children of your own.

Two, you were entirely too sober for this.

~~~Earlier~~~

“Andy will you stand still? I need to fix your left wing.” You huffed, hot glue gun locked and loaded as you stared down at the fidgeting five year old. The living room was silent other than the preening of your sister, too caught up in snapping a thousand pictures to help you with her own kids. Gee thanks for the help Sis.

Your peripheral vision caught your niece reaching to grasp at her newly straight long blonde hair, your voice making her jump. “Hana don’t touch your hair it’s still hot from the straight iron!”

“Yea Hana leave your hair alone!” Her twin brother mocked whilst opening his third piece of candy. You raised an eyebrow as you directed your playful scolding his direction.

“Liam you take one more piece of candy out of that dish and I’m not taking you!”

“Sorry Ant.” The chorus of small voices around you had a hint of a smile cracking at your lips as you tried to remain stern. After a few extremely short minutes of holding Andy’s cardboard wing at a forty five degree angle, it looked like you had finally managed to get them even in height.

“There! Everyone ready to go?” You sat back on your heels to look at the three, a big smile overcoming your features as they all got excited over their outfits.

“But Ant,” Andy exclaimed, pointing to your sock clad feet, “You’re not wearing any shoes!”

“Thanks Buddy, you’ve just saved my entire Halloween!” You snatched your nephew and flew him through the air of the living room, the small human giggling and squealing as you made whooshing noises, his arms out in front of him. Whatever kept him in good spirits and helped the glue dry faster. Placing Andy on the floor of the foyer you made a quick grab at your heeled boots that sat by the door, zipping them up to just above your knees before standing to look in the mirror.

The black tactical suit you had made yourself looked great, the matte fabric the perfect choice for your costume. You had taken a few liberties with the original suit design, trading the slightly loose pants for something a bit more feminine and curve hugging, eighty-sixing the knee coverings and opting for sleek heeled boots instead of chunky combat ones. You were sure your feet would hate you later, but Carpe Diem right? The black straps and buckles were still covering the top half of you, although you had chosen to turn them into more of a corset of sorts, your chest pushed up under the dark gray vest you had made. It wasn’t overly cool outside so you went sleeveless, allowing for more mobility. You readjusted your hair, smoothing away any fly aways of your current bobbed style. At least you didn’t have to wear a wig. Readjusting the straps that held your very fake guns to your thighs you wrapped your hands around the handles of the three appropriately painted jack o’lanterns, the plastic thunking together as you passed them to their owners, the kids pooling around you to get a final group picture. You headed out into the crisp air as your sister waved you on, saying she and her husband would see you all later at Maria Hill’s party.

That was an hour and three groups of Avenger wannabes ago.

Of course the kids all but tackled their respective counter parts, save for Andy. You felt bad that no one had dressed up as Falcon yet, but you were constantly assuring the slightly upset child that he would see him tonight. You hoped anyway.

It was when you finished sacking the last house on the block when you saw them.

“ANT LOOK IT’S HIM IT’S HIM!!!” Andy’s shrill voice shot off with the rest of his body as he sprinted as fast as his small legs could carry him towards the three men, one of them no doubt dressed as The Falcon. You groaned as the two twins followed suit, racing to catch up, and then outrun their youngest sibling to the group of guys. You silently prayed this would be the last time for the night, your phone only able to hold so many pictures.

As you reached the three kids, once again mooning over the “superheroes” you couldn’t help but notice that their outfits looked extremely authentic. And they were equally extremely good looking. Thor’s hair was perfect, Falcon’s gapped tooth smile made you smile back. Hell even Captain America had an ass on him that made you want to sing the national anthem. Out of tune and all. Your face flushed as you came up to them, the kids talking a mile a minute and their questions making your face burn.

“Well if it isn’t the Walking Lightning Rod, Bird Brain, and America on Ice. You guys look great, did you assemble the rest of the girl scout troop or is it just you three tonight? Sorry about the kiddos. Wish I could say they’re mine, but they aren’t. Thanks in advance for being nice to them, they kinda can outrun me in these heels.” Your greeting forced the three men to break their eye contact with their miniature versions to give you a quick once over. The man dressed as Falcon took one look at your costume and about died.

“YOU DRESSED UP AS BARNES?!” He exclaimed, voice laced with gulps of air and hard laughter as you adjusted the duct tape and silver painted left arm you had fabricated. You noticed the blue eyes of Captain America’s wander over your figure as Falcon bent at the waist, trying to catch his breath and failing miserably. “Sorry it’s just…” He breathed, standing back up to fully give you a once over, “You managed to make him look good. And that’s a big deal. Doesn’t she look amazing Steve?”

The man in the mask sputtered out jumbled words in agreement, and you felt your face grow hot even though your smile grew. He took a breath and composed himself “What’s…what’s your name Doll?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, and my eyes are up here Mr. American Dream.” You caught him staring at your chest through your mostly unzipped vest as he awkwardly cleared his throat, his face a few shades of pink that you were quickly finding adorable.

“So, ahem, why the Winter Soldier?” His blue eyes sparkled when he talked to you, and man you’d be lying through your teeth if you said they weren’t making you feel some things. Out of all the Captain Americas you had met this evening, this one was very quickly becoming your favorite. You admired the long hard lines of his body, that suit not leaving much to the imagination. Jesus you could pray with your knees upward with him anytime. You snapped your head up realizing what you were doing and forced your mind to focus.

“Well it was either him or Stark, and I don’t have the face for a goatee.”

“You would have made a hilarious Tony!” Sam was laughing again, and you were trying to hold your own inside. His joyous noises were infectious.

“But what’s with your arm?” The star spangled man stuttered and you smirked, showing the kids handy work in the form of “get well soon”s, hearts and happy faces.

“Ah well you see,” You leaned in closer to the man, motioning the other two closer to you, “The kids uh, the kids think he just hurt it really bad and that it’s in a cast. I don’t have the heart to tell them the truth. Especially Andy, he’s really sensitive.” You looked pointedly down to the five year old who was clinging to the last of the three as if his life depended on it.

The Falcon gave a smiling nod before crouching down to unwind the child in question from around his legs, chuckling as the kid attempted to hold on tighter. “So your name’s Andy huh? That’s a pretty cool name kid. I’m Sam. I like your costume.”

“My Ant made it for me! I wanted to be you because I think Falcon is the coolest!” Andy pumped his fist in the air with a shrieking holler that reminded you for the eighth time that night you were too sober for this shit. But you couldn’t help but smile as he continued to gush over his favorite super hero, your heart warming to see him get the interaction you’d been hoping for all night. “He can fly!!”

“Did you make all of your garments then?” Thor’s voice was deep, booming, and beautiful and for a second you almost regretted not dressing up as him, giving him a small nod. “They are exceptional Lady Y/N.” You scoffed, waving off the compliment although it was the first one you had gotten all night.

“Yea Ant is the best fairy godmother in town!” Hana squeaked, twirling around in circles to show off her red cape that hung from her shoulders. “She worked super hard for months so we could all be our favorites tonight! Even our mom and dad have costumes!”

“So I am your favorite hero then?” Thor inquired, taking a knee to look at the small blonde girl.

“Yep! You control lightning and we both have blonde hair, and you’re really nice to girls. My momma says it’s cause your momma raised you right, and that’s why you have a kind smile. I don’t know what that means but my momma is always right.” Hana smiled, showing the tall man her missing two front teeth, who looked like he just about melted into a puddle at the girl’s statement. He opened his arms and before you could object your niece ran into them, hugging the man fiercely.

“Wow little one you are incredibly strong!” He complimented her, breaking away as she fell into a fit of giggles. “What is your name?”

“Hana!” Came the squeak of your niece, beaming with pride.

“My name’s Liam and I think Captain America is the best!” Liam piped up, finally finding his voice and bringing a large smile to his counterpart, who reached his hand out to give him a high five from his waist. “You were frozen! You have super strength and you’re like really really old.” Sam snorted at that as Liam went to cover his backside. “Like a cool old though! Not like my dad old.”

“Nice save Li,” You rolled your eyes as the man in blue laughed heartily at how much Liam looked like he was going to spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

“So how old are all of you?” Sam questioned, finally giving in and hoisting Andy up to sit on his hip, you rubbing your temple in exasperation. These kids.

“I’m seven and the oldest!” Hana called, Liam shoving into her slightly.

“Only by three minutes.” She stuck her tongue out at her twin, Andy staring down at hand, hardened expression on his features as he thought up his answer. His face lit up as he swung his whole hand out, nearly falling out of Sam’s grip as his shifted his body weight in excitement.

“I’M THIS MANY!” He promptly smacked Sam in the face as he held up his small chubby digits into his field of vision.

“Oh I am so sorry, Andy my dude you gotta apologize for hitting the nice man.” You lightly scolded the child, his face falling as he avoided his gaze and stared at his bucket.

“Sorry mister Falcon sir.”

Sam grinned as he put the kid down, “It’s alright Andy, I accept your apology. And you can call me Sam. Now how about we take a photo huh?”

All the kids cheered as you pulled your phone out from your cleavage, watching Steve’s eyes widen at just where you hid your electronic device.

“Alright kids, pose like you’re about to save the city!” You snapped multiple shots, the kids breaking into different stances with their idols. Sam offered to take a picture of you next to Captain America, and after much convincing from two particular seven year olds you allowed him to oblige. You pulled out one of your guns and stood back to back with him, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all. After he had finished capturing a few memories for you the group went to separate.

“Alright kids, we’re losing candy time and we still got hit up the rich people before we head to Miss Hill’s house for her Halloween Party! So tell the nice men goodbye and move your butts!” The kids nodded at your order, hugging the men and saying thank you.

“Miss Hill? Like Maria Hill?” Steve asked, you nodding.

“Yea she’s having a party, we worked together briefly and have stayed friends ever since. You know her?”

“We’ve..uh heard of her parties before.” The blonde smiled tightly, your bright smile making his pulse quicken.

“Cool beans well small world! If you’re in the neighborhood stop by yea? I’m sure she won’t mind! And I wouldn’t mind seeing you again blue eyes.” With a small flirty wave in Steve’s direction you were gone, moving to catch up with Hana and Andy already ahead in their trek. You came to a stop when you realized Liam wasn’t with you, turning your body to motion him with a “come on” motion. He held up a finger to you and you sighed, pointing to your nonexistent watch.

“Pssst! Mister America!” Steve crouched in front of Liam, who had called him over and was now digging through his pumpkin vigorously. You had turned your back, not wanting to intrude on their private moment, missing your cheeky nephew pull out one of your business cards from his plastic treat holder.

“What’s this?” Steve whispered, Liam’s eyes glinting with mischief as he smiled broadly in your direction. Thor was speaking into his comms link while Sam edged closer to the two to eavesdrop. Which wasn’t hard because Liam hadn’t quite mastered whispering yet.

“That’s my aunt’s number. You’re her favorite and she thinks you’re a total hottie. My mom says she needs to fall and love and get married so her womb doesn’t shrivel up and she dies alone with like eighty nine cats. So if you like her you should ask her out. She likes coffee and pink roses but hates bad breath. And A-holes who don’t use their blinker! Okay, bye!”

Sam saved his laughter for when Liam was long out of range, racing to grasp your hand as you walked away with the rest of the kids. Steve only smiled warmly at the slightly crumpled card.

“Dude I need that kid as my wing man.” Sam was shaking his head when Thor came back to them. “Nat have news?”

“Yes she believes they found the location of the Arsonist’s next target.”

With that the three men were back on the mission, their moment of carefree fun over. That was the whole reason they were in the neighborhood patrolling as it were. There had been six massive fires over the course of the last two months, all with the same cause behind them. They had gotten a letter earlier that day saying that the arsonist, Mr. Ash, yes that was what he had chosen to go by, would be striking this very evening. The team had split up to cover more ground as Nat and Pepper worked back at the tower to crack his pattern and thus tracking him down to his next target to apprehend him. They had all agreed to go to Agent Hill’s party in celebration after they caught the asshole, but now Steve was more determined than ever to make sure they made it. Even if it was just to see you again.

~~~Two Hours Later~~~

“Come on Ant, you got this!”

“Yea you can do it!”

The kids cheered you on from the front porch of Maria Hill’s home, the large basin of water and floating apples the only thing in front of you. You gave them a wink before putting your hands behind your back. Quickly finding your target you felt the cold splash of chilling water hit your senses as you dove after you prize, the kids clapping loudly as you emerged victorious. Biting into the tart granny smith you stood up wiping your eyes and smearing some of your mascara in the process.

“Pretty impressive stuff there Y/N.” Your vision adjusted to the figure of Maria, who was holding out an orange solo cup and a towel to wipe your face, which you happily took.

“Helps when you have your own cheerleading section.” You shrugged, taking a large gulp of the apple cider that had been mixed with fireball whisky. The alcohol burned your throat for a second as you weren’t expecting that much to be in it. Note to self, don’t have too many of these. She laughed and handed you your apple back, taking the slightly damp towel from you.

The five of you wandered into the spacious house where you could see everyone in costume, loud party music blaring through every room of the house, kids and adults alike playing games like Sorry and Pin the head on the Zombie. The rooms were all lit in different eerie colors, streamers and scary window clings decorated the house. There had to be at least 60 people here, and that wasn’t including those bobbing for apples or playing yard Jenga outside.

“Hey Ant Y/N look!” Liam pointed to the large T.V screen, you turning your body to face it and feeling your entire body go rigid. “It’s the Avengers from earlier! They were the real deal!”

Your eyes widened in shock as you instantly recognized three of the men from earlier, albeit their perfectly authentic suits were just a bit charred, they still looked incredible. And you looked like The Incredible Idiot. They were exiting a building that had been on fire, Thor holding a screaming man while Steve and Sam went to help put out the flames with the local fire department. You were pretty sure your face could give the warehouse a run for its money with how hot you were. You swallowed hard at the questioning look on Maria’s face, opting to just pull your phone from its hiding place and shoving it in her hand once you pulled up the photos.

“Holy shit Y/N, you didn’t tell me they were…” She tried to cover her escaping giggles with her hand as you began looking for a rock to climb under. She especially found the picture of you and the very real and very handsome Steve Rogers to be absolutely hilarious.

“How was I supposed to know Maria?! They were like the fourth group of Avengers and I was completely done with the whole thing by group two!” You whined, sitting down in a large overstuffed recliner with an ungraceful thump. This was single handedly the most embarrassing moment of your entire existence. And that was saying something. You had once forgotten to wear pants to school your sophomore year of high school and had to loan a pair of god awful gym shorts from your best guy friend at the time. They did not smell clean and didn’t match your bright orange fall sweater. It was also Winter, and the shorts were two sizes too big. You never thought anything would top that. “I’m just going to die here now.”

Needless to say between finding out they had met their actual heroes and all of the candy, the kids were absolute beasts to put to bed. Maria had been kind enough to let them crash on an air mattress in a spare room upstairs when your sister and brother in law texted saying they were running a bit behind. They had won first place in the costume contest at their party, so they were celebrating a little longer than intended. When you realized your plans had changed, you had opted to have a couple more drinks. It’s not like the absolutely attractive earth savers would actually show up.

“Heeey the party still going on?!” Sam’s deep voice came bellowing through the house while you were draining your third drink, nearly choking as the three Avengers from earlier, and an extra few including the one you had dressed as entered the living room. You quickly dodged your way into the kitchen, wondering silently if you could fit in the very tiny water heater closet and they wouldn’t even know you were there. You listened as the room gave them a round of applause, finally reaching your “fuck it” meter for the night and pouring yourself another drink. You were never a lightweight, but the effects of the booze would at least keep you from being a total freak when you came in contact with them.

“Y/N you’re still here, how fortuitous!” Thor clapped loudly causing you to jump and sputter into your cup. You steeled your nerves and turned around and felt your face pale for the second time that night. That was a habit you didn’t need to be forming.

“So I am.” You pretended to shrug in indifference, a small shy smile on your features. “You guys were pretty great out there tonight, thanks for catching that asshole and saving that family. Guess that’s why Stark keeps you around huh?”

“Well it’s isn’t because they’re pretty to look at, but everyone’s a critic. Tony Stark. Hi, great to meet you.” The man wearing a simple “This is my Halloween costume” tee shirt approached you, you smiling wider and shaking his extended hand. “I see you’ve met my coworkers. Wilson told me about the names you called them tonight, they were great. Mind if I steal them?”

“Oh umh, um, no not at all!”

“Great, because I was going to regardless.” He winked and moved to the side, allowing you to introduce yourself to Clint and Natasha, who shook your hands with happy chuckles.

“Nice arm.”

“Thanks, made it myself.” You winked at the woman who shook her head at you, Bucky coming up with to stand next to Steve, giving you a once over.

“See Barnes didn’t I tell you? She made you look good for once!” Sam slapped the quiet man on the back, earning a glare from his otherwise stoic face.

“Shut up Wilson.” Bucky responded, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yea, you actually look pretty great. I can see why Steve here was all bent out of shape thinkin he wasn’t going to see you again tonight.” Came his gruff reply, his blonde friend groaning and jabbing an elbow into his side. “Ouch. What where you’re throwing that thing Punk.”

You brought your vision to look at the handsome Captain, wondering if it were possible to drown in his blue eyes. You felt yourself smiling, your eyes crinkling as you took a step closer to him, watching him swallow hard. “Awwwh. Did you miss me Captain?”

“Are you kidding? He’s the whole reason why we had to work double time at tracking the arsonist down, just so he could see you.” Sam grinned, running to hide behind a very amused Tony as Steve contemplated murder for the sixth time that evening. “He wouldn’t shut up about you boo..”

“Mister Sam… Falcon…sir?” You were never so thankful for a child in your entire life. All of you turned to look at Andy who stood alone in the kitchen doorway, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. His wings were long since off of him, you knowing full well with his thrashing the cardboard and hot glue would not withstand the rage of a five year old with constant night terrors.

“Yea buddy it’s me. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“You have a nightmare again Andy?” His teary nod at you had you placing your cup on the counter, leaning down to motion him to you. He hurried into your arms, you effortlessly picking him up, taking your silver arm covering off to allow yourself more range of motion as you cradled your sobbing nephew.

“Shhh you’re okay my dude, I’ve got you.” You muttered, listening to him cry uncontrollably into your neck, the evidence of his emotions soaking into your skin. “Tell me what you dreamt.”

“It was AWFUL Ant!” The boy exclaimed, pushing off of you slightly to look at Sam, tears still stinging his eyes. “Yo…you guys..didn…didn’t make it…out and the the building..” He started crying again and you felt the whole room melt around you.

“Hey Andy it’s okay see, we’re okay though.” Sam whispered reassuringly, asking you without words to take the child, which you gave him over with a nod. “See look, no harm done.” He let the little boy place his chubby hands all over his face, brushing over the soot and ash that had stuck to the man’s skin.

“…but what about smoke infal..mathc..ion? Momma says you can…di..die from too much smoke infalmathcion.” The brunette boy hiccupped at Sam, and you didn’t miss Tony’s huge smile at the kid’s difficulty at pronouncing big words.

“We’re gonna be fine. Don’t you worry. Takes a lot more than nasty smoke to take out the Avengers, don’t you think?”

“Y..yea! You guys are the best in the whole galaxy!” Andy cheered, as if he hadn’t had a complete meltdown just moments prior. Sam smiled back at him, turning his head to mouth a simple “I’m gonna keep him.”

You were almost tempted to let him, until you remembered he wasn’t yours.

“Hey there’s my little love bug!” Your sister cooed from the hallway, stopping for no one as she reached for her son, eager to hold him.

“Uh honey…” Your brother in law motioned to the group of super heroes, her face reddening as she looked at Natasha and Clint, who looked back at their doppelgangers with wide eyes. Tony and Thor howled with laugher as the pair took an extra step apart from each other as they took in your sister and his costumes. “I never thought we would meet like this. Man no one is going to believe me at the office on Monday.”

“Of course they will, you’ll have proof!” Tony belted, motioning for Maria to come and take pictures of everyone. You all elected to stand on the front yard, your sister going to drag the sleepy kids out of their slumber so they could be a part of it. After many different poses and many different phones later, everyone seemed happy with their captured memories.

“Night night Ant Y/N, sleep tight. Don’t let the bad guys bite!” Liam joked, the two of you breaking into your secret handshake.

“And if they do, I’ll beat them til they’re black and blue with my shoe!” You called back, hugging Hana and waving to Andy who was already nearly passed out in his dad’s arms. He gave a half wave back, all of their figures fading into the distance as they swam through the sea of parked cars.

The rest of the party cleared out a bit later, you staying behind to help clean up the apocalypse level mess in Hill’s house.

“You’re really great with kids Y/N.” Steve held the trash bag open as you piled cans and cups into it, meeting his gaze with a grin.

“Only because they’re related to me.” You admonished, the large man chuckling as you continued about the living room, you both being the only ones in there while the others helped take down decorations in the other rooms and outside. “Listen about earlier, I’m sorry if I may have seemed a little forward. I had no idea it was actually you and I’m not normally that flirty.”

“Ah I see. Well if it helps I’m not offended.”

You shot your head up to look at him, arm mid swipe to push more cups into the trash bag. “You’re…not?”

“Nope. Especially knowing I’m a total hottie, and your favorite. According to Liam anyway.” Your voice died in your throat as the man lost in time actually had the nerve to wink at you. You placed the cups in the bag, coming up to your full height to stare at him. Your feet were burning from the whole night in heels but you’d be damned if you backed down now. You didn’t know if you wanted to kill your nephew or hug him until he complained about it.

“Oh really? Well then can I ask you out for a cup of coffee sometime?” You spoke lightly, question almost coming out in a whisper on account of your nerves.

“Sure, I’ve got no plans in the morning.”

“Eleven work? I’ll be dead with a hangover until at least ten.” He laughed at your honesty, reaching to pull out his phone so you could type your number in. You procured your phone from its warm resting spot, taking extra care to slow your movements. Steve actually looked away from you after staring for a beat or two, his ears the same shade of pink from earlier. Cute.

“As long as we can yell at a-holes who don’t use their blinkers, sure.” Hug Liam it is. “There’s a café on 23rd and maple by the tower…”

“Queenie’s?” You finished, smiling brightly at Steve who nodded back enthusiastically. “Then it’s a date Cap.”

“Yep,” He pulled you into a surprising yet warm hug, you nose breathing him in and taking note that he smelled exactly how you thought he’d smell. All masculine and deep and smooth and rough and your brain stopped trying to think of good words to use. He offered to walk you to your sister’s house, a pensive look washing over you as you looked at the clean living room.

“What about saying goodbye to the others?”

“What, like you’re never going to see them again? Not if I can help it” He mentioned nonchalant, another blush sweeping over your face as he bluntly admitted to seeing you more than once. You only nodded, accepting defeat as he put his arm around your shoulders to keep you warm on your walk home, not that you needed it with the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

A short fifteen minute stroll of content and happy chitchat about yourselves later you were at your sibling’s door, finding the spare key in a ceramic frog just along the edge of the fish pond that sat on the left side of their stairs.

“Well this is me, see you at eleven hundred?” He smiled at you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Eleven-hundred. Pleasant screams Y/N.” You outwardly giggled at his pun as he pulled back, turning towards the street and walking away with a noticeable pep in his step.

Take the kids trick or treating your sister said. It will be fun she said.

She was right for once.

End

Taglist: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more @cuffski @chrisevansfanfic @zombiepotterfour 

[dopedoodes]

Time Away From You. // E.D

AN: Hey guys! I never wrote a Military!Au before so sorry if anything is un-accurate but I’ve done my research and tried my best. Reblog and share.

Summary: Ethan is away serving the country while his lover is home wishing nothing more but to see him again. Will she?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

185 days, that’s how long it’s been since you’ve seen Ethan.

When he told you he had to report to his base for six months you laughed. Surely, your sweet Ethan hadn’t been stupid enough to enlist in the military at age eighteen, but you were wrong. 

Ethan  had enlisted as a naive eighteen year old with a passion in his heart to serve his country, but then he met you a year later and suddenly the military didn’t seem like a good career option. Unfortunetly, the military doesn’t just forget about enrollments and on Ethan and your’s three month anniversary, he got the call.

185 days without you. 185 days without him.

Life was tough without your favorite Jersey boy next to you. College wasn’t the same without your intense study sessions in the library that eventually turned into make out sessions. Your dorm felt empty without the presence of his six foot tall shadow lingering in the doorway waiting for the invitation to enter and join you in your binge watching sessions. And with no one to confide in or hug when things got out of hand, you felt alone.

Sure, the two of you emailed each other profusely but that didn’t stop the ache in your heart. With every bing from your phone your heart broke more wanting nothing more than to hear his voice instead of the swoosh sound from another email being sent. Sometime you’d receive handwritten letters in Ethan’s poor penmanship. 

His words were hard to make out but that didn’t stop you from staring at the piece of paper for hours, your fingers tracing each and every letter as you imagined the hazel eyed boy hunched over writing to you from thousands of miles away.

You never did get to hear his voice though. His calls saved for those times he called home to his family. The same family who you frequently visited on weekends just to get a little dose of the Dolan world you so desperately missed. Though, spending time with them was hard most days. It was especially hard when the doorbell rang unexpectedly and a face of worry washed over everyone in the room – you’d silently pray it wasn’t military officers standing their with a flag in arms. 

Thankfully, it hadn’t been.

Despite it all, you pushed on hell bent on keeping your promise to Ethan before he left. You went to class, found yourself a part time job on campus, and even managed to get in some pleasure reading you’d been struggling to indulge in for months. You stayed occupied during the day, but when your head hit the pillow your worries set in. Often time, your cries being the only thing to drown out the nightmares and lull you to sleep.

It was a Monday morning. day 186 without Ethan, when you heard the familiar bing of your phone. Already awake for your morning class, you opened the email quickly praying that it was the news you had been waiting for. You scanned only the first two sentences before your heart drop. The dreadful words jumping out at you faster than you could comprehend.

Two weeks, maybe more.

Next deployment is delayed.

I’ll be home as soon as I can.

Love you - E

You wanted to scream. Wanted to throw yourself on your bed and sob for the next two weeks. You didn’t even know what to write back, too frustrated with more empty promises and the rising count of days the two of you had been apart. 

Sighing, you did what you always did. You wrote him a heartfelt email back promising you’d be here when he got back and then you were off to class, not even bothering to splash water on your face to relieve your red eyes.

You ran on autopilot the minute you left your dorm, your body carrying you towards the english building without even telling it to. Your thoughts were preoccupied with worries for Ethan, worries for you, and worries for your relationship together. After all, the two of you weren’t even together for long before his deployment. You’d spent most of your nine month relationship apart and you couldn’t stop the nagging in your brain telling you that was no way for a relationship to start and strive.

No one said anything when you waltzed into class five minutes late. They didn’t even glance at you when you tossed your notebook on the table in a careless manor. To them, you were just the girl that was always sad. The girl who wrote the poems about loneliness and long distance relationships. You were simply a background character in their epic stories of high school, only their to fill the space and make them feel better about themselves.

You were so caught up in your own headspace that you hadn’t even realized the knock on the classroom door. In fact, you were so distracted you didn’t even hear the audible gasp from your classmates nor did you realize all their attention had turned to you.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” your professor said, pulling you back to reality.

It was only when you looked up from your notebook did you acknowledge everyone staring at you. Confused, you started scrambling for an answer to a question you assumed you did not hear. You kept babbling for a few seconds before you noticed your classmates attention shift from you to the door, your own gaze following theirs.

It took a minute before your brain registered who was standing in the doorway. You blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Your jaw fell, a gasp rolling off your tongue before you were pushing the chair away from the desk. You couldn’t say anything, instead you collapsed into Ethan’s arms, chocking out a sob as you buried your face into his chest.

He smelt like sweat, the faint smell of the stale airplane air lingering on his military jacket. He was leaner than you remembered but his arms were huge, his jacket having trouble staying in place as he wrapped you in his arms. He was different, his eyes were tired, his hair longer, and his presence less intimidating but he was also the same. His lips on your forehead felt the same as they did before he left. His whispered words of endearment sounded the same as they had 186 days ago. And his body was still as warm and welcoming as you had remembered.

You could have stayed wrapped in his arms for hours, but the sound of your classmates clapping and crying made you pull away. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed that they had witnessed such a intimate moment but you couldn’t help but feel an ounce of pride too. Finally, they could see who you truly were outside of these damn four walls.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he smiled. “They didn’t really extended my time. I just told you that.”

“You’re an ass,” you said, smacking his chest before nuzzling yourself into it.

“I’m really sorry to intrude, Sir,” Ethan apologized to your professor. “Do you mind if I steal her away for the reminder of class?”

“I suppose I can’t say no,” he mumbled.

That was all you needed to hear before you were shoving your notebook back into your backpack. You didn’t even have time to thank your professor before you were tugging Ethan out of the room and into the empty hallway. The feeling of your hand intertwined with his forcing a smile on your face.

“I missed you so much,” you said against his lips before pulling him in.

“I missed you more,” he challenged. “Now come on, we’ve got a few hours to kill before we drive home to see my mom and Gray. Cam might even fly out if my mom can trick her.”

“Do they know you’re here?”

“Nope,” he smirked. “I’m surprising them too!”

“Only you would find it amusing to worry everyone in the hopes of surprising them,” you said, shaking your head.

“Awe come on, you loved it and so will they. Now, I need to spend time with my girl before my mom gets her hands on me.” He said with a cheeky grin.

He’s back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hoped you enjoyed!!! 

[lifeofbouyd]

Vacay - Tropical Bliss

Overhearing a conversation in the bar.

I think it’s best you shut up Jen, you talk too much. I didn’t book my ticket to come to sit in a hotel and do nothing. I came here to enjoy the sun, the food, the rum and get some Caribbean dick before going back. If you wanna sit here and do nothing that’s your business, I wanna get wild tonight.

A few seconds into hearing them debate over vacation plans I had asked the bartender for something strong, as I needed to wash away my “X”. 2 shots of tequila, 1 shot Henny, 1 shot Vodka, 2 bananas, and some fruit juice. He whipped it up and poured it out in a tall glass, handing me a slice of lime and some salt on my hand.

Bartender: I call this the Chemical X. Drink it slowly then eat the lime and the salt.

I thought he was joking because he said that for every drink he had made before. But there was something spooky about this one, looking like some lab project about to explode.

If you can drink this in two gulps I’ll personally pay you $50 USD. By the time he said that the entire bar was looking at us. I’m never one to back from a challenge and even tho this seemed like suicide I was already feeling dead so no. I smelled the cup then turned it to my head. “Chug chug chug chug chug” they chanted. By the time I drank the last drop, but the lime and tasted the salt; my body was out of breath. It was harsh on my chest and felt like it was gonna stop my heart from beating. (((((Cough,cough,cough))))) I couldn’t stop coughing. The bartender threw me a bottle of water and I turned it to my head while a lady knocked my back. My eyes were filled with water and steam fumed from my ears.

Bartender: I can’t believe you did that without stopping. Holy shit. You are something else. He dipped for his wallet and placed a sharp $50 bill under my glass.

Foxy: Hi, I’m foxy from California what’s your name? I looked around to only see it was the girl who’d been talking about getting Caribbean dick. Staring at me from head to toe and smiling with my muscles. You work out?

Me: I’m Bouyd, I was born sexy

Foxy: Well, I’m here for a week and I’m single. How much will it cost for you to show me a good time? I got tons of money.

Me: Well I’m not up for sale, but I’m here for a week too. We can hang at no charge.

She took my phone, dialed her number and save it as “Mr. Caribbean”. She said she was gonna take a shower then hit the club later on. That was my original plan but seeing that she wanted my company made it even more fun. I grabbed my $50 and another shot of tequila before running off to my room. My room was facing the ocean on the fourth floor, one of the hotel’s best views. I rearranged my stuff and ordered a bottle of Moët on ice. After taking a long shower she messaged me, wanting to know what room I was in. I shot her the info and within three minutes she had reached my door. I opened the door to a goddess, a totally different person than I had seen in the bar. I couldn’t tell if it was the makeup or if I was drunk but she was damn pretty. She had the figure of a model, standing no more than five feet tall with golden blonde hair. She made herself at home while I got myself together. I premeditated all the things I wanted to do to her, but by the time I got out, her friend was there. Two hot chicks sitting in my bed watching movies. My smile touched my ears as soon as I realized what they were really up to. They popped the Moët and within minutes it was empty. I rolled us some scliffs then dragged my Versace shoe on and headed out.

The hotel provided a shuttle and I was reserved VIP seats. Been a regular guest I got treated like a king. A bottle of champagne, some weed and even some other girls the entertainment guys had lined up for me to meet. We rolled into the party like we owned the place. Approximately 25 if not 30 of us. The selector was whipping up a storm of old dancehall hits and the crowd was feeling it. Before long they were tipsy 🥴. Acting like crack heads. This was their first time smoking weed and drinking Hennessy and that shit hit them hard. Ashley started biting on my pants front, demonstrating how she wants to blow me while Victoria was whining on me from behind. As good as that felt I wanted them sober. I just don’t have it in me to fuck a drunk 🥴. I started handing them bottles of water to calm them down, but the other guys wanted them drunk as fuck. I then realized they were up to no good. I grabbed three of the other girls who were drunk as “bats” and grabbed a cab back to the hotel. Five girls, one king size bed and I didn’t even know what room they were staying in so I could take them to their rooms. I spread all five across the bed and made myself at home in the couch with a scliff, Law and Order and some Hennessy I had left from the day before. I closed my eyes for what I thought was a minute, but by the time I opened my eyes it was 9:30 am. They were still knocked the fuck out looking as if they were dead.

Me: Y’all need to wake the fuck up before I throw some water on y’all ass.

They mumbled showing signs of life which were more than a relief for me. Five dead white girls in my bed would be the headline story. I took me a shower and ordered us breakfast. The room service guys stood steering at all five women in bed.

Guy: Bomboclath bad bwoy, a so yu dae “terble”. Five white gyal one time. Yuh green cyaad sure.

I chuckled and gave him a tip while waking them up. To their surprise, they still had their clothes on and I was gentleman enough to order them breakfast. It would seem this was strange to them that they didn’t get dick after been so high. They spent most the morning in my room talking about their bumass boyfriends back home, and how they’ve never felt a black dick. I just sat there drinking and looking at the planes coming in across the sea.

Jessy: Bouyd, have you ever slept with a foreigner?

Me: Not to my knowledge

Mel: If you got the chance, which of us would you fuck? I smiled and noticed all five as they were eager to hear. Well?

Me: Mmmmm, to be honest, I’d fuck all five if given the chance. I really wouldn’t know who to choose.

Mel: Be careful what you wish for Mr. Man, you might just wind up with five big butt chicks on yo dick tonight. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of having all five at once. I didn’t really entertain the conversation as I thought it was just a joke. They all came back after showering and we headed to the beach to have some fun. While in the water noticed they kept whispering to each other. What the fuck they up? Mmmm. I swam all the way to the beach line and they did the same. Surrounded by all five girls I kept wondering what they were up to but couldn’t come to a conclusion. Jessy disappeared under the water while I was distracted and to my surprise, she was holding my legs pulling herself up to my waist. She flipped my dick right into her mouth. As dead and cold as it was, it grew instantly into a big cucumber down her throat. Holy shit, she was some different type of freak, an underwater freak. A mermaid 🧜‍♀️ if you asked me. She was down there almost two minutes before pulling up for air. One after the other, they took turns, passing it around like a bottle of wine. Sucking and licking before taking a deep breath after a deep throat. Now, I received multiple blow jobs long before that, but I ain’t ever get no sloppy job under water. This was some next level kinda shit. As good as it felt I was still worried about what people would say if they realized what they were doing. I’d be considered a king which would be good, but l didn’t want that kind of attention. At least not on the beach.

I went back to my room after cumin in the water. All this excitement had made me dizzy. I rolled us some scliffs and pulled a Henny from the fridge. Halfway through the glass, I had fallen asleep, forgetting I even had company. I was sea deep in my sleep when I felt as if someone was sucking my dick. Was it a dream, was it reality, who could be sucking my dick in my sleep? I slowly opened my eyes to see Mel and Jessy sharing my joystick, giving it mouth to mouth to get it stiff. They looked high as fuck. I laid there motionless with my eyes half open watching them get to work. Mel turned her half-empty cup to her head and kept a cube of ice in her mouth. She whispered something to my dick the ran her tongue from the root to the head. An ice-cold deep throat was the outcome. I jumped when the ice touched the head. Holy shit, she gave me a brain freeze 🥶.

Jessy: I told you that would raise the dead. You owe me twenty bux.

They had given me a jump start and to be honest, I had never been so hard before. It’s as if I was sporting a different dick.

Jessy: Let’s roll on a condom and take turns.

They rode and sucked, and rode and sucked and rode and sucked some more. I watched them climaxed several times before helping them out. Sucking on their necks, nibbling on their tits, hard dick in one and finger in the other. I fucked them until they gave up. They got more than they had bargained for. I rolled a spliff and watched them laying down knocked out in the bed. I was way too high to cum, plus I had already cum on the beach. (((Knock, knock, knock))) let us in. It was the other girls banging at the door. I opened the door as naked as I was with a used condom hanging from my dick. They stared at them laying butt naked across the bed with a how the hell did I miss this look on their faces.

Foxy: Can I please have some dick, I am dying here. I’ll even pay.

I was still horny as hell and I wasn’t gonna make this one time opportunity pass me. I agreed but only to a threesome. Her friend was way too sexy for me to let her go. After all, they didn’t travel thousands of miles for some sun and Caribbean rum. They could purchase that anywhere plus, I had never fucked a foreigner before. By the time I agreed they were both butt naked. Kissing, feeling rubbing. Sucking, licking, riding. Shit, I was living the life. Two chicks across the bed while fucking 2 in the sofa. By the time I came they had cum several times and ready for another. But I was too tired to even lift a finger. I sat in the tub 🛀 with the warm water beating on my body trying to catch my breath. To them, I was a star but tbh I was half next to dead. I went back to four naked girls in bed trying to play hero, but by the time I came again, I was unconscious.

I opened my eyes to Jessy fanning me with an old calendar that was hanging from the wall, and Roxy attempting mouth to mouth. Shit😔. I was so tired I could hardly pull my self from the ground. As soon as they helped me up I rolled a spliff and poured some Henny in my cup.

Who wants more dick, I asked. They all laughed cause they almost killed me a few minutes ago. We went out that night, got drunk and did it all over again. They spent their remaining days in my room which caused me to eventually fuck all five. Three of which were married and two in serious relationships.

As fun as it was, that shit gave me cold feet, made me feel like every woman was a potential liar. These women had men back home who’d do anything for them but still, they be here fucking another guy they don’t know shit about. But who was I to judge, we men tend to spend so much time tryna fuck other niggas chicks we forget to fuck our’s or pay them the attention they need. Which eventually pushes them to find love elsewhere. This makes me worry about my karma. What if a nigga is fucking my chick, what if she is giving him heads and telling me she ain’t no freak? Shit, can these chicks even be trusted? I’ve seen so much shit in my time I don’t even know if ima ever trust women. If it comes, I take it, and if it wants to go, I let it. Ain’t got no time to worry about these flight risks.

[notmrskennedy]

Likeability

(GN!Reader x Spencer Reid)

A/N - I’ve rewritten this thing like six freaking times but oh well - I hope it at least goes over better than the last - please be gentle 

Summary - The team meets a very dislikable scientist that Spencer seems to fancy

W/C - 2.8k

Warnings - brief anatomy/bones/etc mentions (our scientist is a forensic anthropologist-ish) & a dash of swearing

Important! - this is the FIRST ending and the alternative ending that you’ll like a lot more will come along in the next day or so

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy. 

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies. 

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case. 

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him. 

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls. 

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets. 

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured. 

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.” 

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter. 

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.” 

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

#

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns. 

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen. 

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.  

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!” 

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt? 

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this. 

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“ 

 “Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what? 

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude. 

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled. 

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated. 

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere. 

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed. 

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

#

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with. 

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for? 

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands. 

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages. 

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

#

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude. 

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her. 

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler. 

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second.  She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now. 

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening. 

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be. 

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond. 

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin. 

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life. 

 “I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care. 

#

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about. 

Nothing to worry about her ass. 

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face. 

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks. 

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough. 

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling. 

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

#

Emily is pulling on her coat when the commotion starts. Penelope, JJ, and Luke are clamouring all over you and Reid, all asking a million too many questions for you to answer. She smiles as you hold your ground next to Reid, arms crossed and relatively relaxed. Emily hasn’t been asked to weigh in on the debate, but she likes you. 

And she hopes the reason will come out in the next five seconds. 

Penelope ensures that it does. She cuts through everyone’s chatter with a flourish of her hands. “Y/N, Spencer,” she demands, “you have to tell me: are you dating or what?”

It takes all of half a second for the pair of you to break out into laughter, fumbling over each other, bent up in hysterics. Emily hopes her own chuckles are well hidden. You elbow Reid hard, barely breathing enough to get the sentence out, “Tell ‘em, Spence.”

Reid shakes his head, elbows you back. “Siblings, guys, we’re siblings.”

“But—!”

“That can’t be—!”

“Biological?”

Penelope shakes her head, throws herself physically into the conversation. “Wait! No! I looked you up! You aren’t the other Dr. Reid, you’re Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Did you change your name?” JJ coughs. Her eyebrows can’t possibly get further up into her hairline as you nod. “Why? Why would you do that?”

You snort. “You don’t want to know.”

Readjusting her scarf, Emily doesn’t bother to hide her shit-eating grin. “Do something illegal, Y/N?”

“Of course not, Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I, a very upstanding citizen and Spencer’s lovely younger sibling, would never do anything that caused me to change my name lest I be arrested in six different countries. No, of course not.”

[nothingbutficiton]

The World is Ugly (LevixReader)

Description: You are a Captain in the U.S Air Force. You and your squad were sent on an assignment to the Attack on Titan Universe.

________________________________________________________________

Chapter Two

You woke up to sound of rain hitting your window, it was that time of year where it rained day and night, where the sun would hide behind the clouds. You looked at the alarm clock on the night stand beside your bed, it was three o’clock in the morning, you sighed as you rolled over to your side facing the alarm clock, counting down the seconds before it went off. You hated getting up so early, especially when you have trouble sleeping the night before. 

“Are you..Are you insane?” “We can’t keep this up. We can’t,” you struggled to say, “We can’t see each other anymore. We’re divorced now, so we have no reason to hang around each other.” Ryan looked up at you, disbelief shown clearly in his eyes. You closed yours, you couldn’t believe that you were saying this but it had to be done, you had to cut all ties with everyone you loved and cared for. “Y/N, what are you saying?” he asked, you could see that disbelief started to turn into anger. He would always get angry at you easily when you’re the one to cut him loose. “Ryan, did you know that the Air Force is already looking at replacing me and my squad.” you informed him, you weren’t supposed to but, you felt like you needed him to know, so he doesn’t hate you too much. “But, you’re all coming back, right?” You looked towards him and shook your head, “No, this deployment, no one is coming back.” 

The alarm clock went off, snapping you out of your thoughts, your dogs lazily getting up and stretching before lying back down and falling back asleep, how you envied them. You got out of bed and went to go use the restroom and brush your teeth. Your mornings always started with stretches and a 4 mile run with the dogs. Then you would have breakfast which usually consisted of oatmeal and a bowl of fruits, sometimes you would go a little wild with two strips of bacon and some pancakes. Then you would take a shower and get dressed in your Military uniform. But, today was different, today you just wanted to sit on your couch and drink your coffee before you started getting dressed. The dogs finally woke up and let themselves out to the back yard using their doggy door. It’s time to start getting them ready for this assignment. Every time you went on a deployment, your dogs would go with you, they are apart of the team. 

When you got into work, you were immediately bombarded with paperwork that needed to be read over and signed. “It’s too early for this,” you said to your First Lieutenant, “take them away.” Castro laughed tiredly, you can tell that he had been crying, although he’ll never admit it. He must have started divorce paperwork this morning. “I wish I could Captain but, the higher ups need all these signed and turned in by Zero Six Hundred today.” You looked down at your watch and silently cursed your higher ups. Six was in thirty minutes. You grabbed the paperwork and stomped into your office. Slamming the stack of papers down on your desk, you called for Castro. “Yes Ma’am?” he asked standing under the door way, “Can you get a cup of coffee?” “Of course.” You sat down on your chair and got to work with signing every paper that was giving to you this morning. You were signing away your life with every stroke of the pen, your parents and your ex-husband will get money from your life insurance, everything you own will be given to your ex-husband, the Air Force will be given permission to put out a fake obituary, they will hold a funeral with no body to bury. You stared at the last sheet of paper when Castro set down a cup of coffee on your desk. “My wife is taking the kids and moving in with her parents.” he said to you, “I can’t believe they are making us do this. This isn’t right.” “We need to do whatever means necessary to protect the ones we love so they can one day find happiness.” 

“No one is coming back this time.” “I don’t understand, Y/N.” “We might not make it over there. There are people who are dying every day fighting these..Titans. Soldiers over there train for three or four years before they are put in the battlefield and most die their first time fighting those things, we have to learn every thing they learned within those years in six months.” “So, this is a suicide mission.” The air was quiet and thick, every mission you did with your team, there was no guarantee of returning, every mission was a suicide mission, this one was no different. “You’ll be receiving some life insurance money once all the paperwork is processed. This house and everything in it belongs to you. You can keep it, or sell it all.” “Y/N?”  “We’re no longer alive in this world.” You looked down at your feet and saw his start moving towards the door. “Y/N, do your best to stay alive.” You heard him open the door, and you bolted towards him. You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. “I love you Ryan. Please, find your happiness.” You thought he was going to push you away, instead you felt his fingers lace with yours. He turned around and cupped your face with his free hand, “Princess, you are my happiness. I am so proud of you.” He left you with a kiss to your forehead. You were twenty-two, he was thirty-six about to turn thirty-seven, when you the two of you met at a part, you were drunk off your ass while you started flirting with him, and he smiled you. The smile that made you fall in love. The two of you married a year later. 

You looked down at the final paperwork and took a sip of your coffee, your hand aching. It was five-fifty five. You stood up from your chair, grabbed the stack of papers and went on your way to turn them in. “Alright team!” you yelled out getting their attention, your dogs stepping up beside you, “Let’s do this.” 

There was you Captain Y/N, First Lieutenant Castro, Second Lieutenant Johnson, Tech Sergeant Smith, Staff Sergeant Vargas, Figgis and Chronos, the seven of you started your training. It was a brutal six months of history, learning how to kill the Titans, learning how to use the Omni-directional Mobility Gear, and rigorous training. Your muscles tore, your bones splintered, your entire body felt like it was going to give up on you. The last time all of you felt this way was when you were training to get in to the Air Force Special Operations, you had to admit, it felt good. Six months went by in a blink of an eye, you and your squad were ready. You walked up to the President and shook his hand as he congratulated all of you and told you how we were going to be honored for this sacrifice. “Okay, so this is the first time this portal is being used, so you all might not make it to your destination.” The scientist in front you boomed with laughter. Your team looked at each other with concern, “But don’t worry, I’m pretty confident that some of you will survive!” he said with a grin as all of you glared at him. “Now, I have no idea where all of you will land, you have communication devices to connect with each other. There will be items going in there with you so..look out they’re pretty heavy.” And with that you were all shoved in to the portal and now falling rapidly to the ground. “That son of a bitch!” you screamed out. “What the hell just happened?!” Johnson screamed next. “You all act like this is the first time.” Smith said calmly as he forced himself into a sitting position, your dogs were howling above you. “This is some bullshit!!” Castro yelled after deciding being calm wasn’t for him at the moment. The ground was getting closer and closer as all of you tried to keep yourselves as straight as possible. During the training all of you, including your dogs were inject with some sort of fluid that’s supposed to help heal you faster and help your body withstand forces up two tons without breaking a bone. “I’m so angry!” Vargas squealed in your ear as she tried to cling on to you while still plummeting to the earths surface. “Get off of me!” You yelled as you tried to push her off of you, “No!” “This isn’t the first time we fell from thousands of feet in the air Vargas!” “We don’t have parachutes this time!” “Oh No!” You yelled out when both of your bodies made impact with the surface forcing the ground underneath and around you to collapse and shatter. You looked up and saw barrels hurling towards the two of you as you struggled to get yourself and Vargas out of the way. You had barely made it in time before the barrels crashed against the ground, it felt like your efforts to avoid getting smashed were all for nothing when something heavy hit the back of your neck forcing you to fall forward. Shortly after, you felt something wet glide across your neck while a nose invaded your ear. You flipped yourself over and saw that it was your one hundred thirty pound Great Dane and fifteen pound Bichon Frise were the ones crashing on top of you. This was the clumsiest, most painful entrance that you had made in your life. 

Once all of you were together, you started to collect all the barrels and putting them in one place. You were wondering how you’re going to find your destination and lug around the barrels when you heard your name. “Captain L/N! Look” Tech Sergeant Smith pointed to a cloud of dust, you squinted your eyes and saw that the cloud of dust was caused by horses with people riding them. “Weapons.” you said to your squad as you all pulled out your individual weapons. When the people rode up to all of you, a man with blonde hair and blue eyes said, “Which one of you is Captain L/N?” “Who’s asking?” Johnson replied back, the man look towards Johnson and got off of his horse. “My name is Commander Erwin Smith. I was informed by a voice that when I see people falling from the sky, to ask for Captain L/N” he held out his hand to Johnson, who just looked at me. “I’m Captain L/N.” you said lowering down your weapon. You shook Commander Erwin’s hand, he had a strong grip. “I’m happy to see that we now have some help. We’ll talk when we get behind the walls. Men start gathering the barrels!” When all the barrels were loaded up in a wooden trailer, you and your squad sat down in another wooden trailer. You all looked around you, there was nothing but trees, mountains and hills, there were no buildings hardly any animals. You knew humanity was on the brink of extinction, you didn’t know it was this bad. It took a few hours to reach the Wall, and as you got closer there were buildings falling apart, farmlands crushed, and there was blood covering buildings and the ground. “Open the Gates! The Scouts are returning!” You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, people crowded around the street watching as the Scouts and your squad pass by, you could hear people whispering around. “Looks like the same amount that left this morning.” “Doesn’t look like anyone is injured. Did they avoid the Titans?” “They didn’t fight? What a waste of our taxes!” “Looks like they picked up some poor souls along the way.” “I wonder what are in those barrels.” “Probably food, that they’re keeping away from us.” These whispers went most of the way, and when people lost their interest they left like they saw the worst parade in history. 

When we all came to stop, Commander Erwin got off of his horse and walked to someone. “Captain L/N, I would like to introduce you to someone.” The Commander called out, you got out of the wooded trailer, clothes torn, scratches and bruises littered your body from your greeting with Earth. “This is Captain L/N.” The Commander said to the man, he looked you up and down and scoffed. “She doesn’t have what it takes.” the man said. This made your blood boil, you have heard that nearly your entire life. You lifted up hand and pointed at the man. “Now listen here Shrimp, there’s a reason why I was sent here.”

[justsomewritingsandshit]

Can I Really Wait That Long?

Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader

Length: 1431 words

Warnings: mentions of blood, minor wounds and my own theory about how Jasper’s powers work.

Requested by @fandomgirl9193

Masterlist for this series | Part 1 | Part 3

Y/N didn’t celebrate her birthday. As a twenty-something woman (closer to thirty, than twenty) who didn’t have any living family, nor any close friends to go out with – and where, in Forks, would she go that was ‘out’, anyway – she didn’t bother to celebrate the day of her birth. Plus, losing her grandfather so close to her birthday nearly a decade ago… Y/N did not celebrate her birthday.

“Darling, Alice is demanding we celebrate.” Carlisle’s smooth voice informed Y/N, as the two walked down a random Forks General Hospital hallway. Carlisle, her boyfriend of several months by this point, told her that her plans to do nothing for her birthday were no longer allowed. “The children have already bought you gifts.” His smile was charming, but his eyes teasingly expressed to Y/N that she should just give in, “Alice isn’t a fan of the word ‘no’, love.”

Y/N, who’d been with Carlisle long enough to meet, understand and love his ‘children’, muttered out a single, “Yes.”, before she continued to wander the corridor. “Now, I’ve got to give a sponge bath, but then I’m yours for the night. Alright?”

Carlisle, who had been told he seemed more ‘alive’ since their courting had begun, sent a smirk her way, “Are you trying to make me jealous, dear?” His sweet nicknames were a cause of many complaints by other jealous nurses in the hospital, but never fazed the Chief of Medicine at all.

They went their separate ways, murmuring words of love and devotion before they did, all the while ignoring the scathing jealous looks sent at them.

Jasper Whitlock, now Jasper Hale, had considered himself to be the weakest link in the Cullen chain. His tolerance for blood was lower than the other vampires within his coven, and his frequency for feeding were higher. He blamed his past, as it hadn’t taught him to be strong in such areas – the vampiric-front of the Vampire Wars of the South didn’t tend to breed restraint. The well-fed Major Whitlock had never wanted for much, but Jasper Hale only craved for more control over his hunger. Jasper’s ‘accidents’ and ‘slip-ups’ happened more often than anyone in his family, and he resented that fact greatly.

Even now, centuries after his change and after decades of ‘vegetarianism’, the simplest of paper-cuts easily had him all riled up.

“Jazz, no!” Alice Cullen (née Brandon) let out a cry of fear, setting the attentions of the birthday-gathering occupants on the now black-eyed Jasper.

To Y/N, whose eyes weren’t as refined as others, several things seemed to happen simultaneously. Firstly, Alice got in front of Jasper, in a failed attempt to catch his attention and dissuade his attack of the bleeding Y/N. Secondly, Emmett Cullen (formerly McCarty) and his wife Rosalie Hale slammed their palms onto the arms of Jasper, locking their grips firmly. They held onto the snarling man, preventing him from doing something he’d very much regret when his bloodlust faded.

The third thing to happen, was the actions of Edward Cullen (born Edward Masen). Said vampire’s gift of reading minds gave him a glimpse into the savagery of Jasper’s thoughts, and he decided to place himself before the human woman. His intentions had been pure; to protect his ‘father’s’ love. However, his intentions hadn’t calculated for his sheer vampiric-strength.

Y/N was violently forced backwards, where she collided with the top of the glass table behind her. The table shattered, only worsening the issue at hand. Dozens of small cuts formed on her arms, where the exposed flesh had grazed the thousands of glass shards.

“Get him out of here!” Carlisle Cullen, the head of the Cullen coven, was frantic now. He crouched over Y/N’s prone body, his form facing her, but his golden eyes were locked onto the members of his family. “Now!” Carlisle demanded, waiting until his children had forced Jasper’s struggling body out of the house’s back door, then behind the tree-line, before he moved. Only Edward remained inside with them, the eternally seventeen-year-old looking as sorry and as sad as a chastised puppy would. Thinking quickly, Carlisle mentally requested that Edward set up his office as a make-shift practice. The boy raced off, having decades of know-how, as well as a degree or two under his hat to assist him in the task.

Y/N, who was conscious but incredibly astounded by the events of the past five minutes, looked over her wounds briefly. “Nothing a few stitches wouldn’t fix, Doctor Cullen.” Her voice was as teasing as it could be in the moment, trying to make Carlisle’s frantic eyes look less worried. She knew he was always worried about her fragility – he had a habit of being too cautious with her, trying to make the safest decision for Y/N, which annoyed her a lot. “A few weeks, and I’ll be as good as new.” The most she’d end up with would be scars from her scabs, she was sure.

“Whilst I concur, Nurse Y/L…” Carlisle’s eyes looked wet, but no tears were able to spill. Y/N knew that if he had a beating heart, it would have been going a mile a minute. Breathily, he admitted, “My Lord, I was so worried.” His use of the word ‘lord’ told Y/N he was being very honest, perhaps even downplaying his fear slightly, as he never took his lord’s name in vain.

“Better stitch me up then, Doc.” Y/N’s adrenaline high hadn’t faded yet, so her smile was easy-going. “Want to get this sorted before I can really feel the pain.” As if summoned, Edward appeared on the bottom stair, nodding in their direction, before zooming out the back door as well. Y/N couldn’t blame him, it had been revealed to her months ago, that no-one had the composure Carlisle did when it came to blood.

One hour, some numbing cream, a few pills, and twenty-three small stitches later, the slightly dizzy Y/N was watching Carlisle sterilise and bleach his home. He refused to harm his children in any way, and that included tempting them with the scent of human blood after such an ordeal…

Y/N, who had refused to rest, was finishing opening the gifts her boyfriend’s ‘children’ had gotten her. She flipped through a cute little scrapbook Alice had made, while half-listening to the mutterings of her boyfriend. He was comparing the mess of that day to some others he’d seen, “-And do not even ask about the amount of cheques I’ve sent away to hotels that Emmett and Rosalie have ruined…”

Smothering a laugh at the sentence she had managed to hear, Y/N turned the page of the scrapbook, finding a cute photograph of Y/N and Alice, standing in the fresh snow from that winter. “Aw, that girl is too sweet.” The woman noticed Jasper standing at a distance in the photo, looking quite awkward, “Poor Jasper, it must be so hard for him.” Y/N tried her best to pay no attention to the itching on her bandaged arm.

Carlisle agreed, and even went on to proudly state, “I believe that he’s getting much better, you know.” He removed the heavy duty gloves he’d been wearing, before rinsing his hands in the kitchen sink, “He’s a good man, with a good heart.”

Nodding along to his words, “It has got to be difficult for him, though. He feels everyone’s hunger, so he’s probably in an eternal internal conflict.” Absentmindedly, Y/N flipped the page again, oblivious to Carlisle’s wide-eyed stare, “Oh, look, our weekend away!” Mumbling, “I wonder how Alice got these photographs…” The admittedly slightly medicated woman wasn’t aware that the others had now joined Carlisle in the kitchen. “Oh, the fireplace in that cabin really was gorgeous.” Her eyes felt heavy.

Edward, who was watching Carlisle intently, heard his thoughts. ‘Jasper feels our hunger…’ His eyes enlarged too, mimicking Carlisle’s. Quickly, he relayed such information to the others, Jasper gaining a watery look in his eyes. Alice, Emmett and Rosalie all sent comfort to him, understanding his plight more now than ever. “How did you realise, Carlisle?” Edward asked his father-figure, jolting the doctor from his stupor.

Carlisle gained a proud, yet loving look, as he glimpsed at his ‘children’ before focusing back on his lover, “It was her idea.” All of the vampires watched his girlfriend, who had begun to doze off while they’d been talking. “Alice, how long until I marry her?”

“Less than a year, depending on a few things.” Alice beamed, excited greatly by such prospects.

Chuckling, Carlisle wondered if he’d be able to even wait that long.

Masterlist for this series | Part 1 | Part 3

TAGGED;

@iamwarrenspeace, @stilesloverdaily, @itsnotnormalteen, @the-crime-fighting-spider, @glimmering-darling-dolly 

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

The Way I Do: Chapter 1

Summary: You, Natalia, Pietro, and Wanda accompany high chief Nick Fritigern and a few other leaders (including your father) to the Roman capital of Byzantium to ask for asylum from their Emperor, Augustus Pierce. You explore the city, but run into trouble almost immediately only to be saved by a mysterious man. Warnings: None as of yet Word Count: ~4,232 A/N: For @killmongerdreams‘ song roulette writing challenge.

Masterlist // Prologue // Next Chapter

Chief Nick nodded. “Well put. See to it you study well. It may save your life. You’ll need to be able to pass this information on to others as well. I won’t have us walking into the Roman empire blind.”

At this, all three of you nodded in agreement. “We will, sir.” Even Pietro nodded diligently.

“Good. The delegation leaves for Byzantium in three days. And you’re all coming with me.”

Wanda blanched and even Pietro looked a little taken aback, though he recovered quickly. Natalia looked grave and you… you felt anxiety and anger course through your veins in equal measure.

“As you say, sir.”

The next two days saw you, Pietro, and Wanda cooped up in your house being tutored mercilessly by Natalia. You knew a little of Roman culture, and what you did know didn’t endear them to you in the least. As it turned out, learning about their society didn’t really paint them in a better light in your eyes. They were still as despicable as before, except now you knew the many layers of despicable.

The third day was spent packing, although Natalia still somehow found room to school the three of you on marriage customs.

“Cum manu,” Natalia said, popping into the doorway of your room. You jumped at her sudden appearance and turned to glare at her, but she only stared at you expectantly.

You sighed. “When the wife is placed under legal control of the husband in marriage.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sine manu?”

You crossed your arms and stared at her. “When the wife is still under legal control of her father even after marriage.”

She shot you a satisfied smile and scampered away, likely going to grill Wanda or Pietro next.

You didn’t see her again until all of your things were loaded on the wagon and you’d already finished putting the cart harness on your horse.

“Plebeians!” she said, head popping up over your horse’s back. You jumped and so did your horse and you glared at the redhead.

“Stop doing that!” you chastised. “You’re going to give Holden a heart attack. He’s too old for your shenanigans.”

Natalia looked contrite and patted the old horse affectionately. “Sorry, old boy. I didn’t mean it,” she said fondly as she picked at the knots in his mane.

You rolled your eyes at her fussing. “Plebeians are people who live in the Roman Empire but don’t have citizenship. By Roman legal perspective, they don’t exist. They have no rights. To work, they must sign away their lives and everything they own would henceforth be owned by the family that signed them.”

Natalia nodded, giving you a smile before she scampered off again.

“We’re leaving soon, you know! Have you even packed yet?” you called after her.

She merely waved off your concerns and you sighed in exasperation. To your dismay you saw that she’d managed to weave at least five braids into his mane in the short amount of time she’d been standing there. You groaned and set to work on undoing them before they became dreads.

The loud whinny from Holden clued you into the approaching person before the sound of hooves did. You looked up from your bag, head swiveling in search of the newcomer.

You grinned when you spotted Clinton turn down the road, his old plow horse Darius following dutifully behind him. That horse loved him so much he didn’t even need a lead.

The moment Darius heard Holden’s cry, he returned it, earning a chuckle from Clinton. “Go get him, then,” Clinton said, waving the old gelding on. He immediately trotted over to the two of you, and Holden met him halfway.

You smiled at Clinton as he walked over, chuckling as the two old men immediately began grooming each other. “It’s like they never see each other,” you said by way of greeting.

“It’s been at least a week,” Clinton joked, earning a soft chuckle from you. “I trust Natalia’s been teaching you about Roman culture?” he asked, just a hint of his fatherly tone sneaking in. Having a wife and kids had really changed him and you sometimes felt like you were one of his own kids, although you were certainly too old to be one.

You sighed and nodded. “She’s taught us everything but the language. We’re to learn as much as we can on the way over.”

Clinton nodded knowingly. “She was always better with Latin than I was. Dunno where she learned all of it. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Natalia’s always been a quick study. Absorbs information like a sponge.”

You glanced at him. You’d forgotten he’d fought in the war, too. Natalia had this dangerous air about her that never really allowed you to forget she could snap your neck in an instant, but Clinton was unassuming in that he only appeared to be a happily married father of three.

It was sometimes easy to forget that he could shoot you in the eye from a hundred yards or more.

“Wanda reminds me a lot of her. She’s grown up to be such a nice, intelligent young woman,” you said with a smile.

Clinton, however, groaned. “Oh please don’t tell me Fritigern’s dragging the twins along.”

You laughed out loud, having nearly forgotten about the playfully antagonistic relationship between Clinton and Pietro. “Oh, they’re coming with us, all right.”

As if on cue, Pietro appeared beside you. “Grandpa Clinton! Nice to see your old joints let you out of bed today,” he said mischievously, devilish grin on his face.

You stifled a chuckle behind your hand. When Clinton put on a matching smirk, you knew you were in for more than you’d bargained for. “It was a little tough to get out of bed today, actually. My wife always gives me very enthusiastic, amorous goodbyes,” he said suggestively.

“Oh gosh!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands over your ears. You didn’t need to hear this. Not from your brothers.

“What are you talking about? I loved many women last night and I’m just fine,” Pietro said with a smirk. “Seems like you’re just getting old, Clint.”

Clinton, however, only smiled victoriously. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that lovemaking isn’t a race, Piet? No wonder none of the women in town want to marry you.”

Pietro opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “Please, please, please stop this conversation right now. I can’t take it,” you said despairingly. No matter how hard you mashed your hands to your ears, you heard their words anyway.

Clint and Pietro took one look at your face and dissolved into laughter. You glared at the both of them and smacked them on their forearms. They kept laughing, however, and a moment or so later you joined them.

Natalia and Wanda joined you a few minutes later, closely followed by Chief Nick Fritigern, your father, and two other village leaders.

Not fifteen minutes later you were on the road. Clint drove the carriage while you, Pietro, Natalia, and Wanda studied in the back, smashed in with all of the luggage and food. The chief and the other leaders rode on their best horses, Fritigern up front and center.

The trip to Byzantium took days and by the time you arrived in the capital you fiercely missed sleeping indoors. The river crossing had been particularly grueling, but all of you, your horses, and your equipment made it through it unscathed. The countryside passed slowly and you only stopped for a short while in each village you passed. The locals were surprised to see “barbarians” down this far southeast, but seemed eager to trade with you anyway. The kids (especially the young boys) seemed enamored by your group. You supposed they’d probably never seen your clan’s clothing before. You probably looked as strangely dressed to them as they did to you.

The closer to the sea you traveled the warmer it got and you eventually found yourself shrugging out of your furs. It felt wrong to be without that layer, yet it was freeing in a way.

When the capital finally rolled into sight, you couldn’t help but stare. Even from this far away, the buildings looked huge. They were red clay and brick and stone and looked far larger than anything your tribe had ever built. Wanda and Pietro stared at it, heads peeking around Clinton who merely chuckled at their star-struck expressions. The road sloped gently downward towards the city and from this high up you had a stunning view of the sea which glimmered like many-faceted jewels in the sunlight.

You turned to Natalia and pointed to the sprawling city barely a mile down the road. “That... that’s Byzantium?” you said, hardly daring to believe your eyes. Surely thousands of people lived there. How did humans ever create such a marvel?

Natalia smiled and nodded with a chuckle. “Rome is just as beautiful. Perhaps we can visit there later, if all goes according to plan today?” she said, mischief sparking in her eyes.

You turned to stare at the city, eyes wide with childlike wonderment. “I can’t even imagine another city like this... It’s amazing that there’s even one...” you whispered. Beside you, Wanda nodded in agreement. Even Pietro nodded for a moment before he remembered he was supposed to hate the place. He tried to scowl determinedly, but it kept slipping off his face when he saw something new and interesting as you neared the city gates. Natalia stifled a laugh in her palm at his rapidly changing facial expressions and even you had to tear your eyes away from the quickly increasing number of buildings to smile at him.

Eventually the tall city gates loomed in front of you. A couple of city guards glared at you from under their heavy, feathered helmets. One stepped forward, though he nearly stumbled over his own two feet. If you weren’t mistaken, he was drunk.

“What’s your business in Byzantium, barbarians?” he slurred, sneering down his nose at you.

Just like that, the magic of the city faded, ruined by one bigoted idiot.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that Nick spoke perfect Latin, but you still couldn’t help an eyebrow raise when he responded politely, valiantly ignoring the guard’s frankly offensive demeanor. “I’m Nicholas Fritigern of the Thervingi tribe of the Dniester River. We’re here to petition your Emperor. We’ve brought gifts for his majesty in the hopes that he’ll hear our pleas.”

Even though Nick sounded nothing but cordial and humble, you and everyone else from your tribe knew he was swearing in his head. Bending to another ruler, even in words, pained him greatly.

The guard scoffed. “Let’s see it, then. These ‘gifts’,” he said. It was clear he thought anything you offered wouldn’t be worthy of his Emperor.

He moved to walk towards the cart, but Nick’s hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. He narrowed his good eye at the guard and the man visibly paled. “My gifts are not for ordinary men’s eyes, soldier. Would you truly belittle your Emperor by claiming yourself as worthy as he? Are you that audacious?” he asked challengingly.

The soldier gazed up at him, slack-jawed. Nick raised an eyebrow expectantly and the man quickly shook his head so violently his helm would have come flying off if not for the chin strap.

Nick smiled (it was a predatory thing that would have frightened the man if he’d been more cognizant). “Good. Now, if you’d be so kind as to open the gates?” Fritigern said, finally releasing the man’s shoulder.

He nodded furiously and scrambled back to the gate. “Open it up! They’re clear!” he called to the men on the ramparts. One startled awake and looked around for the danger, only to let out a sigh when he realized it was his fellow guard making a nuisance of himself. They leaned over the wall, stared at their fellow guard, then at your group. They shrugged and, a second later, began turning the great wheel that controlled the metal gate. It rose slowly and after a moment Nick urged his horse onward, the rest of you following closely behind him. As you passed below the great archway, your awe from earlier returned tenfold. People bustled about on stone streets. The buildings had two floors and some had roofs and ceilings so high you had to crane your neck to see the top. Back home, your largest most opulent buildings were your churches and even then they couldn’t hold a candle to even the most basic building here. People stared at you as you passed and you knew enough Latin by now to recognize that most of what they said was not complementary. Eventually your party came to a stop in a market row.

Nick pulled his horse around and Clinton and Natalia immediately looked to him, awaiting instruction.

“Natalia, Clinton, the other leaders, and I will go the palace. I don’t know if Emperor Pierce will be willing to talk today, but I’d like to spend as little time here as possible, so we’re starting immediately. While we’re gone, I want you three-” he pointed to you, Wanda, and Pietro, “-to run the stall. Trade what you can... but do your best to collect information, too. Play the stupid barbarian card. They’ll tell you everything. People like to talk when they think they’re smarter than you,” he said. 

“Is that why you never stop talking, chief?” Natalia asked playfully.

You, Wanda, and Pietro clammed up at the jab, but Clinton was biting back a laugh. You would never talk to the chief like that, but Natalia was a special case. She was practically raised by the man.

Nick rolled his eyes as he hopped off his horse and handed Wanda the lead. “Let’s go, Romanova. You too, Barton. We have things to do.”

Natalia and Clinton hopped off the cart and you dug through the bag in the back until you found the one with the gifts for the Emperor. You hefted it over the side to Clinton’s waiting arms. He never ceased to amaze you as he shrugged it over his shoulder with ease.

“Good luck,” you told them all with a small smile, earning a smile from Natalia and Clinton and a scoff from Nick.

“You don’t need luck, (Y/N). You have me,” he said with a smirk before turning and walking towards the palace, which stood above the other buildings in both height and opulence at the top of the hill by the sea.

“Stay safe!” Natasha said with a smile before turning and jogging to catch up to Nick.

Clinton was walking away, but kept turning around to yell reminders at you. “Watch out for pickpockets! Don’t fall for scams! Oh, and stick together! Don’t get captured by slavers, we don’t have the money to buy you back!” he joked, though you knew there was a vein of seriousness in that warning.

You rolled your eyes. “Go, Clinton! Or you’re going to be left behind!” you yelled, smile on your lips.

The moment they were out of sight you turned to the twins, excited expression on your face. “I’m going exploring! Stay here, don’t get kidnapped or murdered, all right?” you said as you jumped out of the cart, startling a few citizens that had stopped to stare at the oddities in their marketplace.

“Wait, I wanted to explore! (Y/N)!” Pietro called after you, frown on his face. Wanda didn’t say anything, but you could tell she wanted to, too.

“Too slow for once, Pietro! I won’t be long, though! Make sure you tie the horses up correctly, or we’ll have to walk home!” you said cheerily over your shoulder before you disappeared around the corner.

Everywhere you went you attracted stares in your odd clothes, but you paid them almost no mind. There were statues everywhere. The stonework on buildings was so intricate you were sure you could stare at it for an hour and still find something new about it by the sixtieth minute. The streets were wide, allowing carts to pass each other with ease. There were so many people you could hardly comprehend it. How did they all live like this, packed together like peas in a pod? You supposed that it wouldn’t be that difficult if the food was brought to you.

But how did these people even get the money to buy their food? Did they make things? Create art? You supposed a lot of them had to be fishermen, judging by the copious amount of boats in the harbor.

You’d never been on a boat before and quickly added it to the list of things you wanted to do while you were here.

You rounded the corner with a huge smile, only for it to slip off your face at the sight before you.

People of all color, shapes, sex, and sizes stood on top of a raised platform, their bodies weighed down by chains. The expressions in their faces ranged from fearful to resigned to absolutely empty. They were all naked as the day they were born, greased up to make them look even more appealing to potential buyers.

You’d walked into the slave market. You watch in horror as a young boy- no older than 18- was brought forward. The slave auctioneer showed him off almost like was a prized cattle and you fought the urge to vomit.

How had you been blinded by stone and artwork? This empire of lies was where Fritigern sought aid? This place, where they sold people like pieces of meat?

You turned to run back the way you’d come, but ran smack into a wall.

You stumbled backward a step or two with a yelp, hand flying up to rub your nose and forehead tenderly. You looked up at what you’d run into, only to freeze.

Not a wall, a man.

One with a sword and dangerous, dark dead eyes that held no light.

“My my, what have we here? A little barbarian girl, all alone? Isn’t that a shame,” he murmured dangerously, taking a predatory step towards you that had you scrambling backwards. The two men next to him grinned wickedly and you suddenly knew you were in trouble.

Why hadn’t you just listened to Clinton? You should have stayed with Wanda and Pietro. Going off into a city alone was stupid. These weren’t your people. They couldn’t be trusted.

“What do you say, sweet thing? Would you like to make me a very rich man?” he asked silkily, taking another step towards you that nearly had you letting out a squeak of fear. It all became clear in an instant: This man was a slaver.

“Away!” you hissed, wishing you’d learned more Latin.

There man raised an eyebrow and the grin turned feral. “Oh, and she speaks Latin, too! Someone will pay a hefty price for a bitch like that!” He lunged for you but you’d already turned on your heel and ran. You didn’t know where you were headed, but as far as you were concerned, the only thing that mattered was putting as much distance between you and the slaver as possible.

You heard the man and his two fiendish friends running after you. “No, you idiots! This one’s mine! I love the chase!” he yelled, causing a shiver to run down your spine and your feet to pick up speed.

You tried to weave in and out of people, but you simply weren’t used to the sheer weight of this many people pressing down around you. The only thing you had going for you was that he was much larger and therefore had slightly more difficulty pushing through the crowds.

You turned a corner onto a less busy street and ran down at it, only to run face-first into a person for the second time that day. Two strong hands caught your arms, preventing you from falling straight down onto your butt.

“Whoa there, slow down! What’s the rush?” came a deep masculine voice.

You looked up and felt your breath leave you in a whoosh. Gorgeous blue-grey eyes stared down at you, and you could just barely see a glimmer of white teeth behind a sinfully attractive crooked smile.

“There you are,” came a slimy voice from behind you, snapping you out of your sudden daze.

You squeaked and hid behind the man, chest heaving as your pulse raced. “Please, help. He want hurt me,” you whispered in broken Latin, clutching at the back of the man’s shirt. He glanced over his shoulder at you, expression unreadable for a moment before he turned to glare at the other man who was stalking towards you, hardly sparing the man in front of you a glance.

“That’s far enough, cretin,” your savior said, voice low and threatening.

The man’s head swiveled, gaze locking onto the man, the smile faltering for only a moment. “My name’s Rumlow. Maybe you’ve heard of me? I saw her first. She’s mine,” he said, causing another shiver to run down your spine.

“Leave now, slaver. This is your last warning,” the man said, tone calm and collected but with a promise of danger that scared you nearly as much as the other man did.

“Oh yeah? And who are you to boss me around like that, sir? She’s not a citizen. She has no rights. The gothi are fair game!” he argued.

The man closed the distance between them and, though you couldn’t see his face, he must have looked absolutely murderous because Rumlow froze in his tracks, eyes widening in fear.

The man only placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in, whispering so quietly in his ear that you had no hope of hearing his words.

Rumlow’s face fell and he sunk in such a low bow his nose practically brushed the street. “Sorry, sir! My mistake! I’ll leave at once! I beg your pardon!” he sputtered. You watched in shock as the man sprinted away and around the corner, not even chancing a glance over his shoulder.

You stared at the man as he slowly turned around, face impassive. The warmth that you’d seen at the beginning of your encounter had vanished.

“Th-thank you,” you murmured shyly in halting Latin, not quite sure where to begin on how to thank someone for saving you from slavery.

“Did you come here alone, Visigothi?” he asked, tone cold.

You frowned and straightened your back, suddenly on edge. “No... friends, family. Here. What ‘Visigothi’?” you said, racking your brain in attempt to communicate in his tongue.

He turned his back on you and began to walk away. “You are Visigothi, Visigothi. Go back to your people before Byzantium swallows you whole, barbarian.”

You frowned and, before you knew what you were doing, you lunged forward and grabbed his hand, tugging him to a halt.

He froze, staring over his shoulder at you. You didn’t know what had urged you to stop him, but something in you refused to let him go. Something about him drew you to him like a moth to the flame.

“Want thank you. What name?” you asked hesitantly, eyes wide and beseeching. 

You weren’t sure if you imagined it or not, but it seemed like his eyes softened just a bit and he turned to face you. “You don’t need to thank me... and my name is James,” he said, lip tilting up just a fraction at the corner.

You smiled widely at him, happy to see even a tiny chip in his ice cold armor. You weren’t sure what had brought it on, but after seeing what he could be like, you hated this iciness with a passion. “Thank you, James. Saved me. Owe you,” you said with a sincere smile.

Your breath hitched when he took a step forward and raised his hand as though to cup your cheek. You stared up into those endless blue eyes and felt your heart beat hard in your chest. Yes, you thought. Just a little bit closer and-

But then his hand froze just inches from your face and curled into a fist which promptly dropped to his side, the warm look in his eyes vanishing in an instant, only to be replaced by stone cold indifference. He tugged his hand from yours and your heart nearly broke when he turned and walked away. “Go home, Visigothi... and don’t come back.”

You wanted to run after him, but your feet refused to move. Your legs felt like jelly after running all over town (and likely because of James) and even standing was a struggle. You watched him until he made it to the corner, eyes widening in surprise when he looked back at you. His expression was hard to read from this distance, but you thought you might have seen sorrow or regret there. But then he turned and walked away, leaving you an emotional wreck in his wake.

You wanted to curl into a ball and cry, but the fear of being discovered by Rumlow- without James to protect you this time- spurned your tired feet forward and, using the palace and waterfront as guidance points, you worked your way back towards Wanda and Pietro.

Next Chapter

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[tmhllnd2013]

Never Forget You

Requested: Anon

Summary: Tom and Artist!Reader are dating and when Tom’s career took off they break it off mutually but still have feelings for each other.

A/N: School has officially started with excessive amounts of homework and I started reading IT so updates will be slow.

Words: 2,000+

For Y/N, being in an arts school was like a dream come true. She didn’t come from a wealthy family so, going to a private school that specialized in the arts was never an option. It was never an option until she applied for an art scholarship. She sent in her drawings with the hope that she’d get in but, she knew not to get her hopes up. When the letter came that she got a full scholarship, it was like she was walking on air until her first day.

First days are always full of anxiety and doubt and as Y/N walked up the front of the steps of the school that’s exactly how she felt. She was beyond excited for all of her classes but, one thought kept running through her head. What if I’m not good enough? She knew it was a ridiculous question because if she wasn’t good enough she wouldn’t be standing in front of the school on her first day. This knowledge, however, did not rid of her insecurities

The day started with getting to know you activities for the ninth graders. This was where she met the most handsome boy she’d seen in her life. His name was Tom and he was specializing in dancing and acting. He was unusually witty and when he laughed he ducked his head down between his shoulders and smiled so big Y/N couldn’t help but smile too. 

The first few months of school went by with Y/N desperate attempts to become Tom’s friend. Her efforts were no use when Tom was constantly rehearsing or spending time with his best friend, Harrison Osterfield. She had met Harrison in her math class and he was a nice boy. He had lighter hair than Tom and was taller than him but she could still feel herself drawn to Harrison’s best friend. 

There was a dance right around the corner. The whole school was allowed to go and Y/N didn’t plan on going unless she had a date. She honestly only said that to get her friend’s - (Y/F/N) - hopes up that she might show up. Y/N knew she most likely wasn’t going to have a date because they only person she would say yes to wasn’t even interested in her, or so she thought. 

Five days later during lunch she was approached by a very nervous looking Tom Holland. “Uh, h-hey Y/N. Er, I was kinda wondering if, maybe, only if you want to, if you wanted to go to the dance with me?” He looked like he had just seen a ghost before quickly adding, “only if you want to!” 

Y/N couldn’t help but blush at how cute this boy was. Never in her life would she imagine that the Tom Holland would ask her to the school dance. She thought it would only ever happen in her dreams. “Yes Tom, absolutely. I will definitely go to the dance with you.” Tom’s grin was the biggest she had ever seen it.

“Yeah? Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Um, I’ll see you later. Um, bye.” He turned away and smacked right into a table and she couldn’t help but quietly laugh at how flustered he was. She herself was also really flustered but she wasn’t the one who just into a table. 

The dance came in gone quickly. The night consisted of nervous dancing and reluctant hand holding. A kiss on the cheek was quickly added as they separated for the night. Both left with rosy cheeks and wildly beating hearts. A new emotion had been discovered for both of them.

Ninth grade was the year Y/N and Tom became an almost-couple. People called it this because not once had they been on a date but they held hands all the time and kisses on the forehead and cheeks were a normal thing for the two. Their relationship didn’t officially start until that summer. 

Y/N and Tom were spending time at the park and she had brought her sketchbook to draw some scenery to pass the time. She found herself drawing the beautiful boy next to her instead of the lake. She felt herself falling in love and it scared her. Everything about him was angelic and she couldn’t help but think about how lucky she was to have him reciprocate her feelings. This love, however, scared her to no ends because she didn’t know if he loved her or if he just kinda liked her. Y/N didn’t want to share her feelings and then be rejected. That would break her heart and leave her emotionally scarred for a long time. So, she chose to write a message through her drawing. Her whole drawing was made using four letters: L, O, V, and E. She planned to give it to him when they left.

When she finally gave it to him, she quickly walked away and headed home as to avoid seeing his reaction. She wasn’t ready to see the surprise and then eventually the look of sadness as he realized he would break her heart. “Y/N!” She heard and stopped in her tracks, ready for the disappointment. Tom turned her around as he stopped behind her and all of a sudden his lips were on hers. It was like time stopped completely and the only things that mattered were her and him. They were the only living beings in the universe at that moment. Nothing else existed. He pulled away with a whisper that she almost didn’t catch. “I love you too.”

All four years of high school they were the power couple of the school. Everyone knew of their relationship and how much they loved each other. People witnessed the loving stares of Tom as he watched Y/N draw during lunch. They saw the glances Y/N took while Tom was performing and she was trying to do homework. Their gentle kisses before classes or in front of their lockers didn’t go unnoticed. They loved each other without end and it provided everyone with a comfort that true love was possible. Everything was perfect. 

Tom was 18 when he was cast as Spider-Man. Before then he had only done small movies and Y/N was able to see him a lot. However, when he was cast as Spider-Man, both of them knew that their relationship had to be cut short. Tom would be leaving for America soon and then his whole career would skyrocket and she would never see him. 

That night was hard. Y/N had made a fancy dinner for both of them and set out the best wine she had. They both knew what was coming but that didn’t mean they were prepared. Tom greeted her with a passionate kiss and no words were spoken until the end of the meal.

“I think we both know what’s going to happen.”

“Please Y/N. You know I don’t want this.” Tom’s eyes were already glossing over.

“You think I do? We both know this is for the best. I love you but this is the only option right now.” She felt the tears on her cheeks before she realized she was crying.

“I love you. I will always love you.” He was crying now and he couldn’t stop.

“I know.”

That was the last night they slept in the same bed. Thousands of kisses were shared and sweet love was made. They both vowed to never forget each other. When Y/N woke up, Tom was gone. That was the last time she saw him in person for another three years.

2017 had been a good year for Y/N. She got her first job as an artist for a huge company. It had been her dream to do what she loved as her job. As her father used to say, If you’re good at something don’t do it for free. That was exactly what she was doing. Her art was spectacular, according to the interviewer at Marvel, and she had a feeling the pay here would allow her to live comfortably.

America wasn’t home to Y/N but after two years living there the lifestyle has become easier. At first, she wasn’t used to the rude attitudes from the New Yorkers but at this point she didn’t care who said what as long as she made it to work on time. Someone could call her the worst name in the book and she’d tell them to have a good day. Nothing could get in the way now that she was doing what she loved. 

Her first assignment was a portrait of the Guardians of the Galaxy for their second movie. It wasn’t difficult at all. The only thing that surprised her was she was able to meet the actors. They wanted to see her finished product and thank her for her work but Y/N was barely able to breathe, let alone speak. She had always loved Marvel and meeting the actors that play her favorite characters was the most exciting moment in her life. They were all so nice and complimented her art. That made her feel 10x more confident in her work.

The second assignment was a drawing of Peter Parker’s suit. It had to look almost bad because they wanted it to seem like Peter himself had drawn it. She had seen the suit and knew exactly how she wanted to draw it so the assignment was fairly easy. Spider-Man wasn’t one of her favorite super heroes but she knew who played him. Every time she came in to work her heart started pounding because there was only one thing on her mind, Tom. Tom was stuck there no matter how many times she had tried to forget him. They had broke it off, she was the one who initiated it, she couldn’t get emotional now. She was doing what she loved and she wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of that. 

Everything was going perfect until they suggested she meet Tom. She didn’t know how to tell them that she already knew Tom, fairly well if she might add. She agreed to meet him and they set up a day that he would come in. She felt like she was going to faint the day that she walked into the office. Nothing seemed real and her heart was beating a mile a minute. She was on the verge of a panic attack and she knew it. Stopping to breathe and close her eyes, Y/N felt her heart rate go down a bit.

Her work space was filled with one more body than usual. It was a man. He was built and taller than she remembered. His hair still had the same unruly curls she adored. She felt like crying but held back. Standing there felt like a dream. She didn’t think she would ever see him again.

“Tom?” She whispered as she walked into the room. He turned quickly at hearing the voice he hasn’t heard in forever. The voice he longed to hear since that morning he left with tears in his eyes. The voice that reminded him of how much he regretted not having her next to him during these past three years. The voice he fell in love with some time ago.

“Y/N.” She watched as he came toward her and enveloped her in a hug. She craved his touch for the past three years and finally receiving it she knew it would never be enough. There would never be enough contact between them that could make up for the time lost. 

Tears fell as she whispered the three words she knew would never not be true. Tom could feel his own tears stream down his cheeks as he repeated that same phrase. They had missed each other. Their souls felt empty until this minute. They craved each other so much that they might’ve died if they never saw each other again. Their hearts were entwined once again. Love was finally running between them after too long.

“I missed you so much.” He whispered before pulling away and looking at the love of his life.

“I missed you too, so much.” He kissed her with so much passion. He loved her with all of his heart and would care about her for as long as he lived. No one could ever replace her. He knew this. He knew this when they first met. 

“THOMAS STANLEY HOLLAND THAT WAS NOT OKAY!” Tom couldn’t help but giggle as his fiance chased him around the house soaking wet. He had decided to initiate a water gun fight with her, except he was the only one with a water gun. 

“I think it was okay darling.” He laughed as he turned around and squirted her once again. She groaned loudly before stomping over to him. Tessa barked at them from the couch.

“You are the worst.”

“But you love me.” He said with a smile.

“Unfortunately.” Tom gasped in mock offense. She giggled before pecking him on the lips and then heading to the bathroom to dry off. 

“I love you!” He yelled after her.

“Love you too movie star!”

“Love you more my beautiful artist!”