#I AM AT A FAMILY GATHERING AND FORCED TO SIT AT THE KIDS TABLE AND I CANNOT MAKE CONVERSATION

[spineless-lobster]

I’ve realized that I have absolutely nothing in common with anyone my age and I actually prefer to listen to adults talk about their shitty jobs than try and fail to have a conversation with another teenager

[littlest-w01f]

Little Family

Cassian x Luna

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: When Cassian comes to pick Feyre up from her work, he sees a new girl with her, a girl who sits to herself silently and doesn't talk to any other children, his whole world shifts on its axis when the girl's mother walks in to take her home

Cw: None

part one - part two - part three - part four

In the busy city of Starlight, it was another day for Nova, but she woke up different than she had weeks before, she was excited to go to art class, her teacher's friend, Cassian, would meet her most days, sitting by her and trying to converse with her, more than others had. He didn't act negatively to her wings like most kids did, he didn't whisper about how her wings took up too much space in the room, she had a friend.

She was happy, her things gathered on her table, even if her mom couldn't afford a lot of expensive things that a few other faelings had, it didn't bother her, since her teacher, Feyre, provided everyone with anything her students needed anyway.

Luna was up the first thing in the morning, already ready for the day when she knocked on her daughter's room, "Nova? Are you up, little bat?"

"Yeah, mama." Nova said back loud while she was up from her bed so that her mother would hear, "Just woke up."

Luna smiled, she used to have to force Nova out of bed before, but recently her daughter had made her first friend, even if that friend was a male her age and her mate.

It had been two weeks, since Luna had met her mate, Cassian, General of Night Court. The bond had snapped the second she laid eyes on him, she had chosen to take Nova home instead of acknowledging it, hoping it was a mistake and she would never have to see the male again. She had just gotten free of a male, her late husband, a male she had realised stopped loving her when she was with his child but had made her unable to escape, she didn't want another so soon.

But Nova had taken a liking to Cassian, the 6-year-old talked of the Illyrian male all the time after she had met him, which despite how Luna felt, was a happy change in her home, seeing Nova happy and talkative. Cassian had started talking to her child, making slight conversation, complimenting her wings when she had pointed his out.

"Morning, Princess." Luna smiled, watching Nova walk out of her room, she was dressed up for the day.

Nova sat down, pulling the plate of pancakes to herself, "Mornin' mama." She devoured the plate, making Luna snort slightly, taking her own plate.

"Relax love, no one is take that away from you." Luna smiled, packing Nova's lunch for later.

Nova nodded, holding her glass of milk, "Have to get to class, I am doing a piece."

"Oh?" Luna tilted her head, "Tell me more, if you want."

"Wings, I want to paint wings, miss Feyre is helping me." Nova picked at the berries on her pancakes.

Luna smiled softly, "That's wonderful, love."

The two females sat together for breakfast, smiling and talking, "So, miss Feyre has invited us to have dinner with her family tonight, if you want to join."

Feyre had asked Luna to meet her family, she had said no once but Feyre was adamant, and Luna could see the matchmaker in Feyre's eyes. So, Luna had agreed.

"We're going to miss Feyre's house?" Nova asked excitedly, "I want to join, ma."

"Well then, I'll let her know. Come on," Luna smiled, watching Nova rush around gathering her things for her class.

Luna was working in a jewellery shop, smiling at the customers, making sales, she hadn't had time to herself in quite a long time, working a few hours in a bakery in the morning, then by the afternoon she would be working in a bookshop, just cleaning shelves, and now in the late evening, working in the jewellery shop.

She didn't have a proper education to aim for a single high paying job, so she managed to make ends meet by three of them.

Luna sighed as she finished cleaning up the last display case in the jewellery store. It had been a long day, but she loved every minute of working in the jewellery shop, she wanted to give Nova a more than comfortable life, and if it meant working away in multiple places to buy her anything she needed after keeping their place and having their lights on, she would.

The delicate glint of the precious stones under the store lights always brought a smile to her face. She adored the way they caught the light, how they seemed to come alive when they were worn by someone special, she had found her calling in making sales, in matching the jewels with their perfect person.

"This would suit you both so perfectly," Luna smiled at two females who had been looking for their wedding rings. Luna gently guided the two females over to a beautiful set of diamond engagement rings and matching wedding bands.

"These are stunning, aren't they?" The females whispered to each other, their eyes wide as they admired the glittering diamonds. They looked back at Luna, their faces filled with anticipation. "We've been looking all over town for something like this," one of them said, her voice filled with awe.

Luna grinned, her hands moving gracefully as she opened each ring box one by one. "I'm sure these will be perfect for your special day." Her words were gentle, filled with genuine enthusiasm. She could feel the joy radiating off the couple, and it made her heart swell with happiness.

She had made another sale, taking the rings the females had chosen to the counter to wrap in a velvet box, finishing off by tying it in a satin ribbon, she motioned for them to join the line of Fae paying for their jewellery, adding them to the line. The last customers before closing.

"Anything for me, miss?" A voice called to her, a male, Cassian. Luna spun on her heels to face the male, leaning over the countertop, avoiding the glass parts of it, a smirk on his lips.

Luna straightened, ignoring the shake in her heart that his voice had made her feel, there was no avoiding it, Cassian was her mate, and they both knew it, she walked to him, "What are you looking for, general?"

Cassian was looking at a couple necklaces, "Well, you see, my sister has invited this gorgeous female and her adorable daughter for dinner with us, what according to you would be the best gift for them? Something matching would work best, right?"

"Well, I'm sure neither of them would want something so expensive on their first proper meeting." Luna blushed slightly at how blatantly he had told her he was buying a gift for not just her but her daughter too. "If you want to give them something, I'm sure something simple would work just as well."

Cassian chuckled, eyes still on the matching pairs of necklaces, "Aren't you meant to be making sales? You shouldn't be driving customers away." Cassian shook his head at her, he was determined to not go.

"How did you find me, Cassian?" Luna asked softly, picking out a necklace that Nova had always wanted whenever she came with her, a necklace Luna knew she wouldn't be able to afford, the necklace wasn't something the shop owner would've graciously offered to sell at a lower price, even if the pendant was little.

Cassian shrugged, eyes on the necklace Luna held, "Nova only ever talks about you, she told me you work here, wasn't hard to find this place from it's name."

"Is this the one you want?" He asked, hand tracing the butterfly pendant in the middle, it was made of red precious stones, his siphons shining with the same shade.

Luna smiled, "No, it's something that Nova's wanted for a while," She placed a couple of her coppers in front of him, "If you want to gift us something, we can share the cost of this."

"Oh no," Cassian hummed, pushing her coppers back, moving to the counter and dropping a handful of silver marks, "Please pack the necklace. It's a gift for a faeling who deserves it."

Luna sighed, putting her coppers back and beginning to pack the necklace, the image of Nova smiling when she received it couldn't stop a smile from forming on his lips.

"I'll see you later tonight, sweetheart." Cassian smiled, moving to take the packed charm jewellery.

{General Taglist: @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Little Family Taglist: @littlelunatica @journalofthedamned}

[anemoxlys]

Thranduil x Reader Cinderella AU

The fat crush I have on this man (this is the 18th piece of writing I have done for him-

Can you tell I just watched Into the Woods?

Word Count: 2000+

“Please Valar…” You whispered before swinging your legs out of your bed and quickly rushing to put on your clothes, the cold of the morning startling you slightly. It had been a few hours since you’d been up before the rest of your household woke as well, buzzing with a certain energy that they only ever got during ball season. “Oh I simply cannot wait!” Angelica squealed, grasping her hands in Marjorie, her sister’s. “Yes, the prince is bound to choose one of you.” Your stepmother agreed, sitting down at the table before snapping her fingers to gather your attention. “Yes ma’am?” You hastily ask, dashing over to her. “Have our gowns ready for tonight, and remember you must feed the dogs whilst we are out.” She sighed, as if talking to you was this time consuming, wasteful task. “I-I was wondering if I may not join you this ball, ma’am?” You softly murmured, nervousness flowing over you. “You, join us?” Your stepmother cackled, clearly finding the prospect ridiculous, “My dear, if you were to come with us, who would clean the house in our absence?” She continued, patting your head before speaking again, “Now, tighten those corsets. We want to grab the prince’s attention after all.” She commanded. Dutifully, you did so, trying to withhold the tears from slipping down your cheeks.

You watched, silently as your ‘family’ rode away from you, their carriage spreading out of the gates without you. Finally, you let yourself cry, fat, ugly tears slid down your cheeks as you sobbed in the driveway. “My dear, why do you cry?” An unfamiliar voice asked. “Apologies, are you lost ma’am, maybe I can help?” You immediately responded, wiping your cheeks dry. “It seems as though you are the lost one, is there not a ball tonight?” She asked, resting her hand on your shoulder. “Yes, though I am not allowed to attend.” You smiled sadly, “Are you sure I cannot help miss, I have food if you need or water..?” You asked softly. “I shall make you a deal, you get me a loaf of bread and I shall make you go to the ball.” The strange lady offered. “Of course.” You responded, wholly unbelieving her side of the bargain as you hurried inside to get her the food she wanted. 

“Here you go, miss, safe travels.” You smiled, handing over the loaf, alongside some extras that you packed. You moved to turn around only to be stopped, “It seems I have yet to uphold my end of the deal, do turn around dear.” She called, watching as you followed her instructions.             -     

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” You whispered, clasping your hands together before the carriage door opened and you were forced to step towards the palace. “Miss?” A man’s voice sounded. “Yes, sir?” You asked, nervousness flowing through you. “May I accompany you inside?” He asked, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Me?” You started before realising how rude you probably sounded, “I mean, yes, if you wish.” You corrected, an embarrassed smile falling across your face. The man standing before you was horribly attractive, long blonde hair framing his face perfectly, a pristine black outfit hugged every muscle flawlessly, and his hands were so unbelievably soft when they gently took yours. “Tell me, what is the name of the most beautiful lady in this kingdom?” He interrupted you from your thoughts with his sweet, deep voice. “I do not know sir, to be honest I do not attend such events regularly enough to have an opinion.” You answered honestly, pure terror now overflowing you as you began to walk up the stairs, eyes falling on you as you did. “You look nervous?” The man beside you asked, concern in his voice as you felt his own eyes settle on you. “Just a bit.” You replied before a nervous laugh spilled out of your lips, “Who am I kidding I’m amazed I haven’t run off yet.” You smiled awkwardly, trying not to clasp his hand too tightly. “Don’t be, you look divine.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. “That means a lot, thank you.” You grinned, some of the anxiety leaving you, “May I ask your name?” You questioned, noting the surprised look on his face, “Apologies, as I said I do not attend social seasons regularly.” You immediately backtracked, your face turning hot. “Not at all, my lady, I was simply taken aback. My name is Thranduil Oropherion.” He answered as your eyes widened. “My prince-” You began before he cut you off, “Do not say anything.” He began, pressing his finger to your lips before realising what he had done and immediately pulling back, “I enjoyed our conversation before. It was… refreshing to not be a soon-to-be king to everyone.” He elaborated, watching as your face grew a small bit less flushed. “Of course.” You murmured, taking in a quick breath as you reached the top of the stairs. “Don’t be nervous, just think that they’re staring at me.” He muttered into your ear before the doors swung open revealing a large gold ballroom, paintings covering the roof. 

“Prince Thranduil Oropherion.” The herald announced as the room grew silent and all looked up the stairwell. “Should I have arrived with you?” You whispered as you looked down at the room full of people all staring as you began to descend the stairs. “Do not worry.” He replied before chuckling slightly, “Probably not though.” He continued as you shot him a horrified glare, causing him to laugh slightly more obviously. “Only now we are expected to dance.” He grinned, leading you towards the centre of the room. “You planned this all along didn’t you, my prince.” You hissed, mentally preparing yourself to step on his feet. “What are you accusing me of, my lady?” He smirked, outstretching his hand for you to take. “I’m not a good dancer.” You admitted, a slight laugh escaping you as his face turned mildly horrified, “I’m not going to leave with broken toes, am I?” He teased. “Quite possibly, your majesty.” You replied with a grin of your own. 

You smiled softly at the memory, sweeping the floors as you recalled last night before you had fled the palace. “Wench!” One of your stepsisters shrieked, most likely calling you to prepare them for the second day of the royal balls. “Coming!” You replied removing your apron before running upstairs. “Corset.” She spat, bracing herself against the bed frame. “Of course.” You muttered, getting to work on pulling at the strings of her corset.

-

“I am glad to see you again, my lady.” You heard the now familiar voice of the prince. “To think, I came through a different entrance and everything.” You joked. “Indeed, one might think you were trying to avoid me.” He half-jested. “Indeed.” You agreed. “Why did you run last night?” He asked, taking a step towards you. You remained silent. “Do I scare you?” He started, this time you interrupting him, “You could never, my lord.” You hastily denied, “You wouldn’t want to be seen with me outside of this palace. Let us enjoy what we have here as it cannot exist anywhere else.” You murmured sorrowfully before walking over to get a drink, leaving the prince by himself. 

-

“That bitch was there again!” You heard Angelica squeal before attempting to hit a high note on a song her and Marjorie were learning with their singing instructor. “I know!” Her sister replied before also attempting the same note. You were amazed your ears were still intact with how loud their screeches were, yet you survived the constant war against your senses. “Y/N!” You heard your stepmother call, breaking you from your thoughts. “Coming ma’am!” You called back, placing the broom against the wall before reluctantly walking to her study. You knocked before hearing the confirmation of you being let in. “What do you need from me, ma’am?” You asked, bowing your head as you shut the door behind you. “The stable boy has fallen ill, clean the stables.” She ordered before dismissing you with a wave of her hand. 

-

“My lady.” You smiled as the prince’s voice came to your ears. “My prince.” You replied with a sad smile, knowing that this was the last time the two of you should meet. “May I finally learn your name?” He asked, taking your hands in his own. “I told you my lord-” You began before he interjected, “May I not know the name of the ellen who has taken my heart?” He pleaded, his eyes practically staring into your soul as he spoke. “I may give you a hint my lord.” You gave in, your own heart beating to the same rhythm. “Anything.” You opened your mouth to speak before noticing the clock as your face grew pale. “I must go!” You hastily muttered. “Please, your name is all I desire!” Thranduil begged, reaching for your wrist. “I am sorry, my prince.” You whispered, tears coming to your eyes as you slipped your glove off of your hand, leaving it in his and fleeing down the stairs. As you did so, your foot caught on one of the stones and you slipped down some of the stairwell- your foot sliding out of your shoe as you did. Glancing back up at the doorway, you saw the prince racing down the steps after you, watching with wide eyes as you quickly slipped off your other shoe and fled, leaving one behind. 

-

“That whore took up the whole ball all three days!” Marjorie sobbed into your stepmother’s shoulder as you swept the fireplace, careful to not spill any ashes onto the carpet. “I know.” Your stepmother comforted before a knock on the door caused her to pause. “Shall I get it stepmother?” You asked as she glared at you. “Of course.” She responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Right away, ma’am.” You muttered, standing to move to the door, accidentally knocking over some of the cinders. “You stupid girl!” Your stepmother screamed, her hand coming to slap your cheek, “Clean those up, I shall get the door. Stupid child.” She spat, not caring as tears began to slip down your cheeks at the sting of her hit. 

“We really must see every ellen.” An unfamiliar voice spoke as the sounds of footsteps came towards you. “My daughters are all you need to see, our housemaid does not leave the house much.” Your stepmother immediately shut down the idea as you continued to sweep. “No matter Elaron.” A familiar voice reached your ears. You forced your head to stay down, however your sweeping has ceased, the urge to look at his face one more time growing nearly overpowering. 

A loud, piggish, squeal reached your ears as Angelica tried to shove her foot into your shoe. You watched out of the corner of your eye, a small smile on your lips as she was rejected- her sister taking her place as she also tried to shove her hoof into the clearly too small heel. 

“I thought I said to clean that up!” Your stepmother hissed, stalking over to you as you hastily began to clean again. “Sorry, ma’am.” You softly apologised, flinching away from her as she raised her hand up. “There is no need to violence, miss.” Thranduil’s voice once again reached your ears, his voice sounding more hopeful than before as he carefully walked over to you. “What is your name?” He asked, voice full of desire. “I am afraid I cannot tell you, my lord.” You responded softly, a grin falling over your lips as he sharply breathed in. “Elaron!” He quickly called as the sound of more footsteps came. “May I?” He asked, kneeling down before you, shoe outstretched. “Of course.” You answered, finally looking at him. Carefully, he slid the shoe onto your foot, his face erupting in happiness as it slid further onto your foot without resistance. “You have the other?” He asked, “I would hate for my queen to walk with only one shoe.” He continued as you reached into the pocket of your apron- pulling out the second shoe which he carefully slid onto your other foot.

I hope you enjoyed, I know it's not as long as some of my other works but I like the length for this fic (I feel as though if it has been too long it would have been less enjoyable) Let me know your thoughts, and if there are any typos please let me know I do not proof-read...

[itsvivace]

VIVACE TRAUMA DUMPS WHILE MAKING A CANDY SALAD ♡︎

a/n : credits to @mar-zi @bluwavez + @lcmonheads and anyone else who did this trend ! i’ll be writing refering to the girls by their stage names but some will introduce themselves with their real names. also not entirely sure which candy is exclusive to america so lets just say kyuri and noelle brought some 🤕

WARNINGS : talks of cheating, abuse, violence, seizures, near death experiences, mental health struggles, death threats, attempted murder, death, cults

the video starts with kyuri inside their company recording studio. “hi celeste! i’m bored, and all thirteen of us finally have schedules together, so i decided we should do the trend of making a candy salad while trauma dumping!”

kyuri holds a huge clear plastic bowl up to the camera. “i’m kitty and i brought the bowl. when i was nine, i walked in on my dad cheating on my mom with my aunt, and when i confronted him about it, he said he confused them for each other and it was an accident. my aunt married into my mom’s side of the family. she’s not even asian either,” kitty says laughing.

the video cuts to mei mei standing over the bowl which is sitting on a table. “i’m mei mei, and i brought the strawberry sour punch straws,” she says, pouring them in. “at my middle school, some kid made an anonymous account and used the school’s chatting website to spread private rumors and stuff the other students did. it got so bad the police got involved, and some kids even went to jail, but they posted that the reason i fractured my knee was because my parents hit me. which isn’t true at all,” she says, sighing.

“but then i found out after the three months the account kept tormenting us, the poster ended up being my best friend, and they got jumped, and their mom pulled them out of school, and neither were seen again.”

the next scene is of hayeon walking up to the camera. “no clue why kyuri wanted us to do this so bad, but whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes. “i’m min hayeon, and when i was like twelve, my mom had a mental breakdown and tried to sell me on the black market,” she deadpanned. “oh i also brought the skittles,” she adds, pouring them in.

“hii celeste,” soomin greets, drawing out her words. “i brought some gummy worms! i had a seizure in the middle of a family gathering when i was a kid, and nobody cared or tried to help me. i only survived because one of my uncles came over to me to help after almost five minutes. but then my family told me i was attention seeking,” she says, shrugging.

“i’m naiyana, and the reason i left sm entertainment is because they kicked me out after i missed one single practice to attend my best friend’s funeral. i also brought the hershey’s kisses,” yana quickly says, pouring in the chocolate.

eunmi walks up to the camera, smiling. “hello, i’m sim eunmi, and i brought sour patch kids.” she starts, putting two bags in the bowl. “when i was sixteen, after my sister died, my mom told me it was my fault, and that she wished she never had me.”

“i’m hitomi, and i brought some m&m’s. after the dating scandal i had when i was a soloist, my parents forced me to move to korea to become an idol over here because i was blacklisted in japan. i got death threats everyday for the first two years of being in vivace because people hated me being in the group that bad.”

“hi! it’s sarang and i brought the airheads xtremes,” she greets as she puts them in the bowl. “when i was in high school some girl started bullying me, had her friends hold me down, and broke my left hand with a hammer,” she says. “juyeon you know EXACTLY who you are. i still have a fear of hammers to this day.”

xinyi enters the camera next. “kyuri bothered me so much to do this, so here i am.” she pours a bag of starburst into the bowl. “i’m xinyi, i brought starburst and when we debuted i had to force myself into getting better at korean because every interview we went to, interviewers would make fun of me being chinese,” she scoffs.

“hey everyone, it's haeun, and I brought nerds candy,” she starts. “a kid at my elementary school brought fireworks -not sure how he got them- but we were playing with them in a field next to the school, and someone shot one right in my face.” haeun puts the candy into the bowl. “i was rushed to the hospital and barely lived. i ended up with a scar on my forehead, which i still have, and i’m partially deaf in my right ear.”

the next shot is of yerin standing in front of the camera holding two ziplock bags of candy. “i couldn’t decide on one, so i brought warheads and bean boozled because i want to disturb the peace,” she laughs, dumping them in. “i-doll evil edited me so bad to the point when only three weeks after debut, i had a panic attack backstage, none of the staff helped me, and some even recorded me to laugh about it.”

“my name is ara, and i brought some twix.” ara walks up to the camera and opens the bag. “when i was eight, my dad told me he was going out to run errands, but he was gone for two weeks, and i found out he attempted to murder my uncle,” she tells while emptying the chocolate.

the last girl, noelle, appears on the screen. “i’m olivia, and i brought mini oreos because i hate candy.. but thats just me oversharing.” she laughs. “in my senior year of high school, my math teacher said he wanted to sell me to a cult and even tried kidnapping me but i ran across the street, and while he was chasing me, he got run over, and they forced me to go to his funeral and his wife told me i was his favorite student.”

the last few seconds of the video show all the members on screen. “we hope you enjoyed the video! please look forward to our upcoming comebacks, which are coming very soon,” eunmi says, waving. “bye!!” the girls wave.

[f1uckinghell]

Mini Summer VV Event: Part 4

This is the final oneshot I managed for the VV summer event, and was inspired by many a conversations with @33max 🩵

fluff with light angst//pack/family feels//tw: mentions of drug use, mentions of fights with parents

— 🌳 —

Daniel meant to cut the tree down. It was old and knobbly and the placement wasn’t ideal, right on the edge of the cow pasture.

He didn’t get that far, because Isabel begged him, with tears in her eyes, to leave it be because it was her “favorite tree”.

“You never said that it was your favorite!”

“You never asked!” she sniffled dramatically, sounding a lot like Charles.

“What else am I supposed to do with it? It doesn’t even carry apples anymore.”

“We could build a treehouse in it?” Riley suggested quietly from the side. “Like the kind the kids in my book have. A magic one.” Of course, Isabel immediately agreed.

And so, Daniel, with the help of Michael and two very eager six year olds, spent the next few weeks gathering wood and supplies, and constructing a treehouse out of it.

It didn’t take long for the adults to become just as invested in the project. It was fun teaching the kids how to hammer in nails, how to sand, how to put in the little windows they had ordered online and how to roof it with tarp.

To make sure the treehouse really was magic, Lando helped Riley paint it, purple with little stars on it. Sophie got the pups small furniture, a little sofa to sit on, an old, colorful rug, a kid-sized table, some blankets.

When it was done, they all felt very accomplished.

“Daddy, I love it!” Isabel wrapped her arms around Daniel’s leg, looking up at him with a big, big smile and shining brown eyes. “It’s so cool!”

“It really is,” Daniel agreed, giving her a grin, rubbing her back. “And the paint job is what really pulls it together.”

On Michael’s arm, Riley beamed. There was still some purple paint on his cheek.

That night, the twins celebrated by inviting Leah and having juice and cookies in their new treehouse.

-

For a while, Riley and Isabel got to enjoy the treehouse for themselves.

The triplets and Luna were too small to climb up the ladder on their own for a while, but that only made them want to get up there even more. When the triplets got too much for them, it was easy for the twins to escape into their sacred little space, rolling up the ladder and ignoring the wailing downstairs.

However, this was the best motivator for the younger kids to learn how to climb, and soon, the treehouse war was on.

Eventually, via the means of a packling tribunal, they decided on fair rules for everyone to use the tree house.

“No pushing people off” was priority number one, thankfully.

-

The years passed, and the treehouse saw many additions: a rope swing, new curtains, a radio, flower pots, and a new paint job, courtesy of Luna and Lucía.

Jasper was born, and being the baby of the family, he got the privilege of being lifted up there before he could ever climb by himself, always just wanting to be included.

Eventually, the twins grew out of wanting to play-pretend with their siblings.

“Isa, will you play superheroes with us in the treehouse?” Evie tugged on her older sister’s sleeve. “Pleeeease?” She put all of her force into that please to convince Isabel. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough, because Isabel’s eyes were stuck on her phone screen.

“No, I’m calling Leah in a minute.”

“Ughhhh,” Evie exclaimed, slinking off, not even in a mood to make kissy noises at her sister for mentioning Leah. “Riley?” she asked hopefully, even though she knew it was no use. Riley sometimes still played dolls with them, but not superheroes.

“No, Evie,” Riley told her, looking at least somewhat sorry, “I need to finish my homework.”

“You’re always spending way too much time on your homework,” Evie grumbled, leaving her two boring older siblings alone in the living room, but not without a “You’re both stupid!”

She found Michael in the kitchen, reading a recipe off his iPad, cracking open eggs.

“Papa,” she whined, climbing one of the stools, “Isa and Riley never wanna play with us anymore!”

He looked up from his cooking, giving her a half-smile that usually meant he was about to say something wise. “That’s just how it is when you get older, bug. They’re proper teenagers now, they’re interested in other things.”

“Ugh,” Evie grumbled again, laying her arms flat on the countertop and her head on top of them. “Being a teenager must suck then, if they don’t want to play cool games in the cool treehouse with us anymore.”

Michael chuckled, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “You have no idea.”

Later that night, Evie snuck her way in between Riley and Isabel in the pup nest.

“Sorry I said you were stupid.”

She watched her older siblings exchange an amused glance over her head, which kind of made her want to pinch them both, but she controlled herself. “I talked to Papa and he said being a teenager sucks ass.” She paused, then added, “Well, he didn’t say it like that but it’s what he meant. So I forgive you.”

“Wow, thank you for your apology,” Riley said, clearly trying not to laugh.

“It does suck ass sometimes,” Isa shrugged, wrapping her arms around Evie to tickle her, but Evie quickly kicked her (lightly). She had one more thing to say. “Wait! Will you- …will you still do the sleepover with us?”

The treehouse sleepover was a tradition. Once a year, on the last day of school before summer break, all of them slept outside in the treehouse. It was a tight fit, but Evie desperately wanted her big brother and sister there, even if they were stinky boring teenagers now.

“Of course!” Isa gasped, shocked by the assumption, “Why not?!”

“It’s the law,” Riley said, matter-of-factly, “Treehouse sleepover on the last day of school is required.”

“Okay.” Evie let out a breath. “...you can tickle me now.”

-

The treehouse changed over time, got bigger, a little more crooked, saw different paint jobs and ladders and furniture.

It always stayed a place for the kids to have their own space, away from the parents and sometimes, the world. Even as they got older, it still saw use, albeit not as much as it used to.

It was good for hiding after a bad day, for reading undisturbed, for sleepovers with friends, for games that were otherwise deemed “too childish”, for secret phone calls nobody else was supposed to hear, and for many other things.

“I can’t believe we used to be able to stand up in here,” Leah laughed, reaching over her head to touch the ceiling with her palms.

Isabel tried to look anywhere but at her. “Yeah, crazy, right?”

“Do you remember when we played princess and knight?” Leah smiled. Her teeth were so white, and Isabel couldn’t believe how long it had taken her to notice that. She was noticing a lot of new things about Leah lately.

“Yeah, I remember. You stole one of your mom’s dresses for it.” Isa had to duck her head to even sit up in here; she was leaning forward at an awkward angle.

“I did!” Leah giggled, “He was sooooo mad at me for it.” She paused, and Isabel watched her run her fingers over the edge of the ratty little carpet Lucía had weaved for the treehouse a few years ago.

“Do you remember when I said the princess should give the knight a kiss?”

Isabel snorted, “You mean when I said that princesses kiss princes, not knights?”

“Yeah,” Leah giggled.

Silence fell over them for a moment. It was a new, heavy, exhilarating kind of silence as the enclosed space of the treehouse filled with a warm, sweet scent.

“...do you want to kiss the princess now?” Leah asked into the silence, her voice soft and pretty. Her fingertips were inching towards Isabel’s on the wood floor.

“...I… would like that, yeah,” Isa said, barely managing a whisper.

-

“Lunie?”

Lucía peeked over the edge of the treehouse, her eyes wide and still a little wet.

Luna wanted her to leave, but she couldn’t get herself to actually say it.

“Are you gonna come down for dinner?” Lucía asked hopefully.

Luna sat up, wiping her eyes dry. Her throat hurt from crying. “Is Papá still angry at me?”

Lucía scrunched up her nose as she pulled herself all the way up onto the platform with Luna. “A little bit I think. But he’s not yelling anymore. He’s just looking around all grumpy, you know how.” Her imitation of their Dad made Luna laugh.

Lucía leaned into Luna, putting her head on her sister’s shoulder. “...they’re just worried about you, I think.”

Luna hummed quietly, her throat filling up again. “They can’t get mad at me everytime I have a boyfriend!” she mumbled, “That’s not fair!”

Lucía said nothing for a second, and then carefully looked up at her. “...no offense, Lunie, but I think it’s the kind of boys you date.” Luna couldn’t really argue with that, to be honest. “You knew he does drugs. Everyone knew he does drugs.” Sometimes, Lucía sounded more mature than Luna even felt, even though she was the older sister.

“Maybe you’ll get it when you’re older, love makes you blind,” Luna shrugged, feeling silly and defensive.

“...I don’t think I will,” Lucía said, putting her head back on Luna’s shoulder.

“...it’s over with him now, anyway.”

“Sorry.”

They sat in silence for a minute or two before Lucía said, “...come down for dinner, Lunie, please. I think maybe we’ll have ice cream for dessert.”

Luna sighed deeply.

“...yeah, okay.”

-

On the last night of school, thirteen years after the treehouse was built, they had their last summer sleepover.

All of them felt the finality.

Riley was going away for college, and Isabel was having a baby with Leah, and nothing would ever be the same after tonight.

Together, they had spent the last few days expanding the treehouse, adding more flooring to the platform. Flynn built stilts to hold it up until the treehouse had a massive front porch.

It was a total overkill for this one night, but nobody questioned it.

They squeezed up there together, a mess of sleeping bags and blankets and cookie crumbs. Jasper insisted on sleeping right next to Riley, holding on to him all night as if he could keep him from leaving if he just tried hard enough.

Wrapped in his sleeping bag and his little brother’s arms, Riley couldn’t fall asleep, staring at the stars above them instead. He could tell through their bond that Isa wasn’t asleep either. When he turned his head to look at her, he saw a slow tear run down from the corner of her eye into her blond hair.

In silence, he reached over, grabbing her hand, squeezing it three times. I love you. She squeezed back thankfully, looking at him with a wobbly smile.

A lot was about to change now, and both of them were scared.

“I’m so glad you convinced Dad that this was your favorite tree,” Riley whispered.

“Me too,” Isa whispered back. Next to her, Evie stirred, snuggling into her side.

For a moment, the twins just smiled at each other. Riley felt tears well up as well; just seeing her cry was enough.

“Being a teenager sucks ass,” Isa whispered, and then they both had to clutch their hands over their mouths to stop themselves from waking up their packlings with their laughter, making their tears less salty.

Eventually, they calmed down and Riley reached for Isa’s hand again.

“...let’s see if being an adult does, too.”

[byullielle]

Don't Say Yes // Affianced!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Speak Now (Taylor's Version), Taylor Swift—lyrics would be pulled directly to be used in the fic. y/n interrupts and objects to chan's wedding after being arranged for marriage with an unbearable and manipulative chaebol bride. y/n and 7 of their friends save him; and in the process gives chan the one he was looking for all along

Tags: Objection to a Marriage, Drama, Light Angst, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: dialogue heavy + kinda lacks chan actually (i am so sorry), reader centric, swearing, it can get frustrating, you and the 7 kids get into a short argument, the bride nearly hurts reader, implied abusive family members (grandmother), legal terms are discussed but ultimately thrown out the window, not as well written as i'd like, heads-up, I'll think about posting a thorough one on AO3 but it isn't likely.

click on the pictures for clearer resolution. divider used is by: @emptypetal

Removing your coat and hanging it up on the couch in Hyunjin's living room, furrowing your brows at the 7 men gathered around the kitchen table. "Is this about Chan leaving our group chat? You guys know it isn't that serious right?" you chuckle nervously at the tense atmosphere, "It isn't about that," Changbin says glumly. Seungmin, in all his antsiness, speaks up and lets it slip, "Chan is getting married in two months,"

And you laugh. You couldn't help but let out an awkward and slightly forced laugh. "What the fuck?" you raise your brow at him but nobody was laughing with you. Not even Jeongin who usually cannot hold it in whenever they pulled a prank on you. Your face drops, approaching them as Minho slaps a bunch of scented paper and a gold envelope on the table. "When was the last time you checked your mailbox?"

"Like, two days ago," you respond, tongue dry, almost terrified to look. If it was real it would tear you inside out, because it has been two weeks since Chan cut off contact from you and the others, thinking he just needed time to think and recollect himself for inspiration but you were wrong.

Marriage? It was almost unbelievable to you, mostly because of your obvious and unsaid feelings for your best friend. You were in love with Cristopher Bang and kept quiet about it, it was something that couldn't sink in for you that he'd be married so hastily, without even a proper bride in mind.

With shaky hands, you pick up the first page of pungent, rose-scented paper and force yourself to read. 'Save The Date! With Christopher Bang and Soo-ah Kim, witness as they lovingly exchange nuptials,' your hands tremble slightly, putting the paper back down before looking up to see the grim faces looking right at your every move.

"Wh- Why didn't I know?" you squeak out, suddenly weak to your knees as Hyunjin pulls out a chair for you and ushers you to sit down, hand on your forehead as you stare at the paper like it'll catch flames with just a glare.

"None of us did," Changbin bitterly spits out, "I only received the invitation yesterday. I'm only a guest, all of Chan's best men are either distant cousins or relatives of the bride,"

"And I got word from Hannah that he's currently stranded in Jeju, his grandmother's property doesn't have signal and he's pretty much trapped there," Felix explains, "Y/N, what do we do?"

You didn't know you were holding a breath in, absolutely frustrated at the information slowly piling up. This couldn't happen, this wasn't happening. You were just about to tell Chan how you feel, not suddenly send him off to a wedding. Your chest tightens, unable to pull a coherent through out of your noisy brain, the buzzing sounds of your friends talking intelligible in the background, heart beating so hard against your chest you're slightly scared it'll suddenly stop.

It gets noisy. You could vaguely heart Changbin shouting over Minho and Hyunjin yelping about. It was a bit too much for you to handle as you slam your hand down the table, crumpling the invitation in the process.

""Everyone shut up!" you yell out as the others look at you in shock and your breath hitches against your throat. You whip your head towards Felix's direction, his question finally anchoring itself in your brain as you glare, "Why does it rely on me?" it comes out a bit more sharply than you intended, making him tense up.

"What? Aren't you in love with Channie hyung..?" he trails off before he sees the irritation seeping into your eyes. "Are you implying that my feelings are something you could use to stop a wedding?" you snap at him.

"No, of course not!" he stands up as well, a bit worked up. "I'm saying that once Chan hyung finds out about your feelings he'd change his mind about the wedding," he explains before Minho raises a brow, "Wait I thought he didn't have a say in the wedding? I thought we brought Y/N here to collectively think about how to pull him out of that situation,"

"Thank you!" you exasperatedly point at Minho, "You're putting me in the spotlight here like I'm the only one who doesn't want Chan to be involved in this wedding!"

Changbin's chair scratches loudly against the tile, "You're meaning to tell us that it seems like we don't value Chan?!"

"I didn't say that!"

And then there was more and more shouting.

Changbin started talking over you, ranting about how you seem like emotional connections won't pull a groom out a wedding while you argued that it isn't "that simple", Seungmin calling you out for being selfish that you absolutely would allow anything to the point where you'd rid the love of your life a chance to know about your feelings while you counter that they're the selfish ones for ever implying that in that way you don't care about Chan, and they don't care about you—seen as only a turning point for Chan.

It was chaos.

"Fine!" you throw your hands up before storming off the living room and grabbing your things, "I'm the selfish one? Then so be it. Do it without me," you threaten but hesitate at the sight of heartbreak on all their faces, the frustration on Bin's face and the tears streaking Hyunjin's face.

You storm out of the apartment, all kinds of feelings stirring within you as you take heavy breathes in and out just so that you don't end up crying while driving back home.

Your heart was breaking and of course, you're left to pick the pieces up yourself. You were terrible to your friends, and worse, you were going to complete lose Chan in two months.

Getting home, you storm into your room nervously, fidgeting about while opening and closing your phone to apologize to them, the guilt now eating you out alive. You bounce on your heels while you look out the window, trying to clear your head pacing around until a small, pink envelope catches the corner of your eye.

Nestled between a book, and a pen atop of it, your eyes widen and heart cracks a bit more. It was your confession letter to Chan.

Pouring your now shattered heart into that letter tucked between the paper material wasn't the easiest, always on the verge of tears and embarrassment but sealing it into finality gave you relief. One that was so coldly snatched out of your hands bare. You shakily pick it up and grab your letter opener, one shitty gag gift from Seungmin 4 Christmases ago—and you open it back up.

Affection spills into the paper, scratches of black ink prominent against the palest pink of papers. Signed at the bottom and expressing your growing, uncontainable feelings for Christopher Bang. It was all so much yet lacking at the same time. Your heart squeezes at the thought of someone else on the aisle with him, someone else to call home and to marry. You couldn't take it.

You open your phone to apologize before it buzzes against your hand and then an influx of notifications flood—leading you to mute your device.

You close your eyes and breathe in, trying to think rationally about your next steps. "One day," you resoundingly tell yourself in a moment of finality, "I'll respond after one whole day,"

You say you're ready to do anything for him but there's a small part of your brain nagging you to be scared. To doubt if he'll really come to your defense. But everytime it crosses your mind, you force your eyes to look at the unsealed love letter—and a new one freshly written—beside each other.

You know Chan loves you too.

For years you've convinced yourself that it's just him being indifferent but after a night out of him being drunk and you being as sober as the day you were born, you eventually had to carry information more precious than anything in this earth. It was the occasional insecurity that drove you to denial but now that you were standing by the chasm of your feelings and his', driven against a corner there was the ultimatum laid upon you.

And you did tell Changbin that you'd rather risk 2 years of jail rather than 10 for breaking and entering, quite possibly aggravated assault just to get to talk to Chan.

And as the days passed by, you stand in your light periwinkle dress given by Felix, handpicked by Olivia and Rachel as your hands tremble while it runs down the tulle fabric of the skirt. It didn't look too inconspicuous or obvious, which was exactly the look you were going for.

Changbin enters the hotel room you guys pitched in to stay in as he looks at you up and down, "You look like a bride's maid,"

"Is that a bad thing?" you nervously fidget with the bracelet attached to your wrist, slowly and increasingly getting antsier by the second. "No. But Chan's grandmother knows what you look like since apparently he has never shut up about you since getting hitched," he explains, "I heard it from one of his cousins who kindly relayed a word in for hyung, although I'm still not allowed to enter the groom's suite,"

"We have a wig to conceal her hair," Hyunjin helpfully supplies while getting dressed. Out of the 7, Changbin was the only groomsman chosen, the rest were mere guests which none of you had expected for Chan's wedding.

Minho clicks his tongue, "Fuck, then it really is a wedding objection,"

"The letter?" you hopefully turn to Changbin as he clears his throat, "I slipped it under his door while the dude guarding it was talking to another family member,"

Felix pops his head from the bathroom, "What was in that letter?" he asks. You shrug and offer him a nervous, tight-lipped smile, "Dunno,"

"Tease," he rolls his eyes. Despite the joking you 8 try to do, it was ultimately futile, the tension in the room too overbearing to try and alleviate it with a few jokes.

Changbin leaves first, called by the rest of the entourage. After an excruciating hour, Jeongin looks at his watch before gulping down, "Guys...I think it's time," he announces as everyone scrambles to their feet, Felix taking your hand before squeezing it in solidarity.

You look up at him, nodding with fire and passion in your eyes, brows furrowed— "Let's do this,"

The way to the venue was enough to make your knees lock up, ridgid against Felix's hold as he tries to make you loosen up a bit more, even being knocked down and tickled slightly by Seungmin. You pass by the bride yelling at one of the bridesmaid in the bridal suite, making you wince. She looked like a damn tiered cake in the worst way possible, along with the horrific screeching spilling from the doorway.

"God I can't believe he's marrying that," Minho bitterly mutters under his breath, the eight of you walking along the pews as casually as possible, making sure to not expose your face too much with a fan pressed to your nose. "I'm gonna throw up," you mutter under your breath as Jeongin taps on the back of your hand.

"We promise, if something goes wrong, we'll never desert you,"

"I'll count on it," you smile softly. The venue was a grand chapel, guests filing in the pews but nobody in close association to Chan except for the eight of you. Your heart couldn't help but sting at the thought of Chan going through such great mental turmoil being forced into a marriage. You don't know what prompted this but you trusted in Bin's word that he didn't want this, perse.

And then it starts. The organ plays, the officiant walking the aisle to make it to the podium, Bible and documents on hand as the others start to do the procession. First came the sponsors, then Chan's grandmother (the old wench), then the bride's whoevers—most you don't even know. Then next was Chan's groomsmen, his distant relatives, then Changbin. His eyes scan over before spotting you near the front as he nods, encouraging you one last time.

And then your breath hitches at your throat. A glum look washes over Jessica and Jack (Chan's parents) as they walk the aisle right after the Bride's parents. And in comes the groom. He was dressed in a black and white tuxedo, purple and gold lining his blazer, and it took your breath away to the point of Jisung having to remind you to breath with a tap of his pinky against yours.

Chan looked tired, one could say miserable, but he still managed to look good. And it frustrated you so, not being able to see him as your groom, at your wedding.

He gets up to the podium and your eyes suddenly meet. You can tell he hesitates and makes sure his eyes don't widen as you shoot him a look that you cam only hope he interprets as 'I am not giving you up,'

Then it starts playing. The bride's march plays and rings through the chapel—sounding like it was made for your funeral, a deathmarch of sorts. The bride's dress is wide and eccentric, a huge bouquet in her hand as she saunters down the aisle slowly, like she was a pageant queen. Last thing she has to do was wave her gloved hand around but you bit your tongue.

The officiant waits for her to arrive, before all of you and the other guests take a seat. You could see the hesitance in Chan's body language as his bride to be pulls him closer a bit forcefully.

He announces the start of the wedding, and you're starting to get terrified that there might not be any chance for you to object, hanging by the side of your seat as Bin glances over at you nervously.

Your sweat starts to bead at your forehead, gulping down the nervousness as you redirect your brain to where it always looked when the doubtful thoughts lingered. You love Chan, and a letter, his presence and yours in his own wedding was testament to that.

However, after reading a few expletives and guidelines, the officiant clears his throat, "If anyone objects to this marriage," he calls out, as if directly talking to you, "Speak now or forever hold your peace,"

And then there was silence. And that was your chance, your last chance—you stand up with shaky hands and then;

All eyes are on you. Horrified looks from everyone in the room but you're only looking at him, never taking your eyes off Chan's—shellshocked beyond belief. And then you open your mouth

"Don't say yes or wait or say a single vow," you look to the officiant, "You need to hear me out,"

He glances at Chan and says, "Speak now,"

"I am not the kind of girl, who should be rudely barging in on a while veil occasion but you!" you point at Chan with desperation before letting your arm fall to you side, "Are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl,"

An uproar starts as the bride looks over to you, fuming. And like a bull in a China shop, you stare directly into her eyes. She grabs one of the candle stands near her and Changbin gets ready to block her attack from you but before she could strike, Chan rushes to you.

He grabs your wrist, a glint of hope in his eyes, before he pulls you with him. Both of you make a run for it, Felix was right for you to not wear heels, darting towards the church doors before anyone could catch up and process what was happening.

"What are you doing?!" Chan's grandmother smacks the side of Chan's father as he winces but stays in his place, glaring at his own mother, "I told you," he hisses, "You can do whatever you want but so could he,"

She was fuming, red in the face as the bride breaks down in humiliation. "Do something about your son!"

"Eomma!" he couldn't help but raise his voice, "Do not take away Chan's last chance to love," he warns, "Do not make him resent you even further if you don't want any regrets in your life,"

Chan keeps on running until you make it to the gardens of the church, far from the wedding chapel as you both catch your breaths, hands on your knees while huffing heavily. He pulls something out of his pocket inside his suit before waving around the preciously folded pink letter Changbin helped you slip in, "Is that what you meant?" he laughs in disbelief, written in ink:

I know a world you wish it was me, don't you? Don't say yes. Run away now, I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.

You gasp out with a laugh, "If you think I was letting you get married? Not in my watch Christopher Bang," you stand up straight before stepping closer towards him, "I can never, ever, let you go," you confess, "Ever since then, you're the only one I've loved, Chris. I would've died if I didn't get to tell you that ever," you confess.

Before you could even get an answer, you feel two strong hands cupping your cheeks as he surges forward and presses his lips against yours. You make a surprised sound but ultimately hook your hands on the back of his neck, pulling him closer and slotting your lips together flush and perfectly, you get kiss drunk immediately. You part for air, tears starting to well up your eyes until you see him fully crying.

"Oh god," he mutters, pulling you into his arms as you feel his chest erratically vibrate, "Y/N, I love you so much. I love you so so so much, for the longest time ever," he gasps out despite his tears before pulling away and cupping your face into his hands, "And I want it to be in every world, for it to be you,"

You finally let your tears fall before you pull him into another kiss, relief, adrenaline and pure, unbridled love flowing and coursing through your veins as you smile against his lips. "I love you," he whispers, barely pulling back this time before pecking you again.

"So glad you were around when they said speak now,"

if you wanna send in a prompt or an ask or just say hi feel free to do so!!

[cazimagines]

Perfectly exasperating

Synopsis: You really disliked Zemo, but one person you disliked more? John Walker. After bonding over how you disliked him with Zemo, you have the unfortunate situation of running into John. He flirts, insults, and hurts you and Zemo is ready to put him in his place.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Tags: Use of swear words, John Walker being a dick, soft Zemo, protective Zemo

Author’s note: I was not intending this fic to come out as long as it did. This was one of the ones I had been putting off to write other stuff till I finally pulled myself around to writing it and ended up getting really into it. Funny how that happens.

Masterlist

Sequel

Part 3

Part 4

“Would you care for a Turkish delight?”

You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance, refusing to even look at him. Instead of forcing your eyes to focus on a spot in front of you, not moving them in the slightest. Zemo waited for a few moments before sighing and turning away from you.

“You’ll eventually have to talk to me, y/n” he exclaims as he walks over to the kitchen side of the room. You were sitting in the safe house Zemo had provided. There wasn’t much to do, just sit and wait till the funeral started. Zemo sought to communicate to you to keep you two occupied, but you didn’t want to talk with him, so you didn’t. You just sat on the settee, staring at the sofa opposite you while Zemo walked around looking through the cupboards for food.

You were pissed when Bucky revealed he broke Zemo out of prison.

The avengers had been your family. Whenever you needed them Steve would be there to offer you advice, Tony there to make you laugh. Nat there to beat up whoever required it. Everything was wonderful in your life. For once. And he had ruined it.

He caused the family you loved to split, hate each other, and that left you alone. So alone. Losing both Tony and Steve made you more mad at Zemo. He robbed the last years you could have spent with them, so yeah, no wonder you refused to talk to him.

He loved to annoy you, though. Any moment he got he was beside you, creating sarcastic remarks about what was happening, trying to joke around with you. Trying anything to communicate with you. The worst of it was when he insisted you had to be his date on the mission in Mandripoor. Feeling his arm wrap around you, a kiss to your temple, the smell of his cologne flooding you, drawing you in. It pissed you off knowing how easily you fit into the role of his date. Yet you knew deep down why. Every time he made a snide remark, you had to bite your tongue to stop making one back. Every time he tried to joke with you, it took all your effort not to snort. You hated him and everything he does, yet you could sense a fondness growing for him, just a slight one, in the deepest corner of your heart. Left there to be locked away. Never acknowledged.

“So, the new Captain America, huh? What’s he like?” you hear Zemo ask, leaning on the counter of the kitchen table, his eyes burning into the side of your head.

You feel bile rise to your mouth as he spoke.

John Walker.

John fucking Walker.

If you hated Zemo, you despised John Walker. Just thinking of him brought a scowl to your lips. Steve meant everything to you. He was a father figure to you. He stood for all you believed in. He was your hope, your light in the darkness. And John Walker seemed to tarnish it. You wouldn’t have minded him if he was a different mascot for America. If he became America’s new hope. It was the fact that they called him Captain America. That he had the shield. The title belonged only to Steve. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is what he was doing. Him being called Captain America felt like a spit on Steve’s memory. People would forget him, everything he did for the country he loved. They would only focus on John Walker, and you detested that.

You didn’t blame Sam for giving away the shield, unlike Bucky. You could understand why he did it. That shield held such a responsibility, such a legacy it seemed impossible to ever live up to. No, you blamed the people who took the shield away from the museum. Without Sam’s permission. They should have asked Sam. But of course they didn’t care. They didn’t care at all.

“I see by your reaction that your impression of him isn’t a pleasant one,” Zemo says, bringing you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Have you met him?” he asks

You try to hold back your opinion, but John Walker made you so frustrated, you knew if you didn’t rant about him you would burst.

“Yes. He’s a dick,” you spit out

Zemo quickly straightens up, surprised you actually answered one of his questions.

“Oh? Are you finally speaking to me.” he inquires, walking around the kitchen counter towards you.

“Don’t push your luck” you mutter, side eyeing him as he sits down opposite you. Sam and Bucky were out leaving you alone with Zemo. At the moment you were all waiting till the funeral. Zemo claimed there were a few hours to kill before everyone had to gather. Sam and Bucky decided to check out the town, make sure they knew it well in case a situation occurred where we had to dash. They had forced you to babysit Zemo.

“No, no, I like to hear you talk. Please, if talking about how this new Captain America is a dick is how I get you to speak to me, then let’s continue.” Zemo says, pouring out a glass of whisky for you and him. He holds the glass out to you, an eyebrow raised. You sigh, grabbing the glass out of his hand and drank, feeling the warmth creep up your throat. Zemo chuckles as he watches you, leaning back on the sofa, his arms resting on top of it.

“My, my. The man must be terrible if just the thought of him is making you talk and accept drinks from me,”

“He’s so infuriating! He thinks because he is Captain America he can stick his nose in other people’s business!”

“Ah, so he is one of those people. Doesn’t understand boundaries. How rude,”

“And get this, he got annoyed at us! Telling us we should stay out of his way when he is the one getting in our bloody way!”

“No” Zemo fake gasps

“Yes!” you exclaim, going into a rant, “I can’t even bear to call him Captain America. He doesn’t deserve to be called that. His actual name is John Walker. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is exactly what he is doing! And how he talks to me as well. He’s so condescending, treating me as if I am a kid while trying to compliment me and act like he’s all that in front of me,”

Zemo’s eyes narrow and he places the glass down on the table between you two, “You mean he flirts with you?”

“If you could call that pathetic excuse flirting. I suppose. It pisses me off though,”

“I can imagine. He sounds nothing like what Steve was. Nothing like his legacy,”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes, watching Zemo curiously. “I assumed you hated Steve”

“I never hated him. No. I can admire what he stood for, I just find unrealistic. All superheroes are flawed. Innocents will consistently be collateral damage while superheroes are allowed to exist.”

You stare at Zemo, amazed. Not realising the silence you were making. You had always thought he hated Steve. It always seemed that way. Yet he didn’t? Knowing he didn’t hate the guy you always viewed as a father figure mattered to you. And you don’t know why.

Zemo stared back at you. He was studying your eyes, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He didn’t realise what he thought about Steve would have affected you, but it appears he was wrong.

“Don’t worry y/n we’re back and guess what! We found your fav-” Sam shouts, opening the doors of the room and strutting in but he pauses, noticing you and Zemo staring at each other from the sofa’s. “What’s going on here?”

Zemo is the one to pull out of the eye contact trance, smirking as he looks over at Sam, “We were just discussing John Walker.”

Bucky who had followed Sam in grounded at hearing Zemo utter that name. “Perhaps you two would like a drink and join us in considering how much of a dick he is?” Zemo asks, raising his glass to them.

A few hours later you walked down the street following Zemo to find his associate. You didn’t appreciate how secretive he was being, but you understood it. He had many people who wanted to get him, and the second he wasn’t useful to us. He would be doomed.

“It’s too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” you hear a whiny voice shout. Peering up, you notice John Walker and his sidekick ‘Battlestar’ or whatever jogging down the steps towards you.

“Ah! How did you find us now” Bucky shouts with his arms raised, striding towards them.

“Come on. You really think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention,” his friend responds.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” John mutters angrily

Zemo, who you were walking besides, turns his head to you, “I understand what you mean by infuriating”

You chuckle as John looks angrily between you two, “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,”

“He did that himself technically” Bucky replies, and Zemo grins at you, as if bragging about it.

“Aw, this better be an unbelievable explanation-” John Walker exclaims, reaching up to you.

“Hey take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam suggests, interrupting John.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo reveals to John Walker, his seductive accent sticking out from the rest of them. He tries to walk past John. You, Bucky and Sam follow, but John stops him, placing a hand on his chest.

Zemo glares ahead, disgusted at John for even daring to touch him.

“Well, where” he says, getting into Zemo’s face

“All we know is, it’s a memorial so we are going to intercept her there,” Sam adds, trying to defuse the tension.

Zemo grabs John Walker’s hand and pushes it off him, striding forward again, and you jog to catch up with him.

“See why I call him a dick now,” you whisper

Zemo smirks, looking back at you, “Yes. He’s perfectly exasperating”

“What? No. Wait. No! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop. Okay?” John exclaims running forward and stopping you all in your tracks again after something Sam had said. “I think we are way past reasoning with her”

Zemo just stares ahead, fed up with John while you groan in annoyance. Not being able to even bring yourself to look at the man in front of you.

They argue for a few moments while you and Zemo stand idly to the side, Zemo glances at you rolling his eyes making you giggle. You smack his arm slightly trying to get him to stop making you laugh, but that only makes Zemo chuckle along with you. Eventually they calm John down but he glares over at Zemo, “We will deal with you later.”

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion” Zemo says, gesturing with his hands. He walks ahead, searching for his associate while John Walker moves beside you. You try to pick up your pace, but he keeps up.

“So working with a criminal now. Not very avengery like. I thought Zemo hated Steve. I wonder what Steve would think of you working with him,” he mutters peering at you.

“Need I remind you-you are also working with him now,”

“Come on, darling, don’t be like that,” John responds grinning, placing his palm on your back.

“Get your hand off me” you growl scowling at him

“Most women would fawn over me” John cockily resorts, still not removing his hand

“She asked you to remove your hand” you hear Zemo state, glancing over you see he had stopped walking forward, turned around and was now glaring at John. “Do I need to remove it for you?” he says angrily.

John frowns at Zemo. Finally, taking his hand off you and striding up to Zemo. Zemo tilts his head, his jaw clenching in fury as he stares at John.

“You are nothing but a dirty criminal. Don’t think for a second you can talk to me like that,”

“I will when you are being rude and disrespectful towards a lady,”

John scoffs, peeking over to you, then back to Zemo. Everyone else was standing to the side, not sure if they should intervene or not.

“What did she suck you off or something?”

Chaos ensured.

Bucky and Sam had to leap forward to stop Zemo from launching onto John while Battlestar had to hold John back. “Too far man, too far” he muttered to John

Zemo was snarling at John, his teeth bared in rage. His hair had fallen loose from their usual position and was hanging down over his forehead, giving him a more wild look. The vein in his neck stood out, twitching. His eyes were raging with fire as he looked at John. He kept trying to push past Bucky and Sam to get to John, but eventually gave up knowing it was futile.

You were standing at the side, shocked that John would have the ego to say something like that and at Zemo’s rage towards John for saying it. John adjusts his head. Not looking you in the eyes, but looking in your direction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of said that”

Pulling your senses together, you walk up to John, glaring at him. “Yeah, you damn well shouldn’t have. You’re a dick. Nothing like Steve. You never will be,”

John wrinkles his nose in anger, frowning at your remark. You walk over to Zemo now that Bucky and Sam had let go of him. You give him a nod, showing your appreciation, and he nods back, though still glaring at John.

“Who I choose to associate myself with is none of your business. Who I choose to suck off is none of your business. Perhaps you can go fuck yourself and learn a bit of decency,” you spit at him.

A brilliant thought crosses your brain for another way to twist the dagger of your dislike into John. You reach out and grab onto Zemo’s hand, clasping it.

The action causes everyone to turn wide eyed to you. Including Zemo. He glances down at your hand in his then back to yours, surprise in his gaze but he immediately covers it up turning back to John smirking. He turns to behind himself, then back to the group.

“My associate is up ahead,”

You all turn to look forwards and see a little girl staring at you. Walking forward again, gripping his hand, Zemo nods to the girl as you all approach.

“Hello my friend,”

He holds out some money, a lot by the looking of it, and says to her, “This is for your family”

The girl hastily snatches it, obviously in need of it, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm a bit, seeing how kind Zemo was being to her.

“Can you show us the way?”

She beckons with her hands and walks forward. Zemo looks back at you, nodding to make sure you were okay, then follows her.

“What the hell” John murmurs from behind.

Following the girl, she leads you to a building. She turns, pointing inside a doorway, and runs inside not to be seen again.

“Karli’s in there,” Zemo tells the rest of the group. Sam replies and heads inside to talk to her while John suddenly grabs Zemo’s arm and yanks him against the machine on the wall.

Zemo moans as he is shoved into it, the hard outer piece hitting into his chest roughly.

“Hey. You’ve got ten minutes” John shouts to Sam as he takes out a pair of handcuffs and attaches them to Zemo.

“Really” Zemo mutters as John cuffs him to the machine.

“Then we are doing things my way,” John declares ignoring him

“Aggressive” Zemo jokes, though from his eyes you could still see the anger he harbors towards John.

He twists his head to watch John stride forward, staring at Sam, then back to him. “But I get it”

You wander over to stand by Zemo as you wait for Sam to talk to Karli.

“This day has brought a lot of changes. This morning you refused to say a single thing to me and now just moments ago you were holding my hand,” Zemo speaks quietly to you.

You shoot him a glare, “I did that to agitate John,”

“Sure, that was the only reason” but you knew from his eyes he didn’t believe you. They sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you.

“That cuff must bother you” you mention glancing over at them.

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy cuffs, in the right setting of course,” he quips.

You turn on your side, looking at him, your lips curling into a smile. If we are going to play that game, you thought.

“Oh, what setting would that be?”

Zemo’s smile deepened, enjoying seeing you play along, “I’m sure you would like to know”

“Do you have to do this here!” John exclaims, glaring at the two of you. You quickly step back from Zemo, forgetting that you two had company. Your eyes snap to Bucky’s with worry, but he wasn’t looking at you. He glared at the ground, not seeming to care what was happening between you and Zemo.

After that Zemo tried to engage you in conversation again but you effectively ignored him, going back to how you were treating him earlier, which you knew was frustrating him.

John was looking down at the shield, then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, panting. Both you and Zemo glanced up, watching him cautiously. You glanced at Zemo and he stared back, confirming you were both thinking the same thing about Walker.

He got up and started shuffling towards the doorway. Both you and Bucky eyed at each other for the first time with the same recognition in your eyes. You leave Zemo’s side to walk over to where John was.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea,” John mutters as he paces around. Zemo watches him like a hawk while you and Bucky stand side by side, arms crossed.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Sit tight,” Bucky replies.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me,” he spits back, pacing around.

“He knows what he is doing,” you reply

There’s silence for just a moment. You watch as John turns towards you and walks fast, hitting his fist against the shield, “I’m going in”

Bucky walks forward and places his hand on John, stopping him from moving further.

He tries to antagonise Bucky, trying to make him guilty for what could happen to Sam. And you could tell his words were influencing him.

“You will not be going in till ten minutes are up,” you state sauntering over to them

“Oh, so the whore has something to say,” John spits out

In the back, Zemo growls, tugging on the cuffs that connected him to the wall. You feel the outrage prick up on you as John’s remark.

“Don’t call her that” Bucky says, glaring at John

“She’s been openly flirting with the terrorist over there, so yeah, I think it’s appropriate to call her that,” John bites back

You rush forward, attempting to punch John in rage, but he was able to sidestep you and brings the shield up, connecting it harshly to the side of your head. Pain soars across your face as you fall down onto the ground. You groan, your eyesight going dark around the sides and black patches covering parts of what you could see.

“BASTARD” you hear someone shout with a beautiful accent. From the floor, you can’t make out much of what is going on. Someone with a metal arm attacking another guy. A man with a shield being attacked by a man in a trench coat. It was all too confusing for you. You just wanted to sleep.

You could feel yourself fading in and out. Your eyes begging to close. You could hear shouting. Someone talking.

Your head was raised. Someone was holding it in their hands. Your vision is blurry but as they get nearer your eyes could focus on them. Beautiful brown eyes, messy brown hair, cute thin lips. It was him.

“Y/n!?” Zemo shouted at you, “Y/n stay with me”

“My head hurts” you mutter to Zemo as he lifts you up, placing you against the wall. Slowly your eyesight came back, and you could see your surroundings. Only you and Zemo were left.

“Zemo, where is everyone?” you ask turning your head, but in doing so it makes you feel incredibly dizzy. You groan as Zemo places a hand on the side of your face to stop you moving.

“They went after the Sam,”

“I need to help them!”

“No, you need to stay here and recover,”

You look over at the wall then back to Zemo, “How did you get out of the cuffs?” you ask

“Ah well…” Zemo says and glances down at his hand, your eyes follow and widen seeing his hand, bruising covering it, his thumb sticking out at an odd angle.

“You broke your hand to get out!?”

“Well, I couldn’t let him get away with saying those things and hurting you,” Zemo mutters, smiling slightly but you could see the pain flickering in his eyes, “I gave him a well-deserved punch in the face”

You chuckle at the thought. Leaning forward, you kiss him lightly on his forehead, a gesture of you wanting to ease his pain. You move back just in time to see him looking at you, surprised, before your vision faded.

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik @wonderwoman292

[milkiane]

matters the most

pairings: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: profanities, mentions of alcoholic beverages, sexual comments

word count: 1996

request: give me rafe angst with prompt "god, i can't even look at you"

a/n: all the love to @s1ater as always, and thank you to @iwritesiriusly for being the best <3

love is such a concept that most people would often dream of, wanting the full experience of having butterflies in your stomach, fireworks erupting with every kiss, the messy and complicated rollercoaster ride. everything about love just sounds so beautiful.

love brings two people, from strangers, or enemies, or life-long friends, together and creates sheer happiness and adoration for each other, but love is never always about all that cliché domesticity. sometimes it’s all about the thrill and the danger that it brings along.

it was funny, really. how rafe, who wasn’t afraid to express his hatred for pogues, fell for one. love did work in mysterious ways, they said.

neither of you knew how you lasted for 8 months without getting caught, but both of you knew that the fun wouldn’t last for long before something would come in between.

he didn’t know that his dad and rose would be home earlier than they said. he thought he’d have the house to himself, that’s why he invited you to come. amidst a steamy make-out sesh did they walk in, followed by an argument between the two men. you awkwardly stood behind rafe, lips swollen and cheeks red as rose glared at you.

it didn’t end well, but when does it ever? forbidden love had its perks, but it also had its downfalls. ward demanded to break off whatever liaison his son had with you, whilst still raving about his disdain for the likes of you and how rafe turned out to be just like his disappointment of a sister. rafe decided that he’s had enough and stormed off with you.

that’s why rafe was in the cut at the dead of the night, standing in front of the chateau.

he shook his head, bringing out his phone to give you a call as he brought the large blanket closer to his chest.

incoming call: rafey <3

groaning, you reached out your hand and blindly patted around your bed for your ringing phone. the brightness of your phone glaring at you to the degree, making you hiss.

“rafe? it’s 2 in the morning, why the-” you grumbled, eyes fluttering close as sleep started to glaze over.

“come outside, babe. i’m on your front porch,” he said, taking in the sight of it before silently muttering, “if you could even call it a porch.”

“shut up, rafe,” you groaned, ending the call as you threw your blankets to the side and leaving your warm sanctuary to see your boyfriend. quietly making your way past john b’s room and jj, who was sleeping on the couch.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his torso as he placed a kiss on your temple.

“wanted to come see you, we don’t know to what extent my dad’ll go to make us break up, so let’s make the most of our time,” he shrugged, reaching out for your hand, he intertwined your fingers together and dragged you towards an open space.

rafe unfolded the blanket and spread it out, laying down on it as he opened his arms to invite you in.

snuggling into his embrace, you smiled softly, “you know, i’m usually the one who sneaks out to see you,”

he chuckled, his chest vibrating as he did, “yeah, but we gotta have some change now, i guess,”

you sighed, nuzzling deeper into his arms, “imagine if the clash between the kooks and pogues never existed, if the odds were in our favor, we would have lived happily,”

“we’ll get married,” rafe started, then tilted his head to look down at you, “a beach wedding, d’you want a beach wedding?”

“yeah,” you grinned, playing with the rings on his fingers, “then we’ll have two kids and a dog, and a house in between figure 8 and the cut,”

silence surrounded the both of you, sad smiles on your faces as you looked up at the twinkling stars. the chirping of cicadas and the rustling of the trees serving as a piece of calming music.

after a while, rafe began to speak up again, “are you… are you sure that this is worth all the secrecy, y/n?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, removing yourself from his hold to you look at him, “what?”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “i just- we knew it would end one way or another, right?”

you paused, trying to let his words sink in before asking him, “what’re you trying to say, rafe?”

by now, he was already sitting up, “i’m just saying that we just got lucky that we lasted for nearly a year. i mean, it’s far-fetched, you’re a pogue, and i’m a kook. it would have been easier if you were like me,”

you scoffed pathetically, “oh, so it’s my fault now that i was born a pogue? well, i’m sorry that i couldn’t control how life works, that i have to work my ass off 24/7 to keep myself surviving,”

“you know that’s not what i meant, baby, it’s just that-“ rafe groaned, he didn’t know what else to say because that’s exactly what he meant.

“then what is it, rafe? you don’t know how hard it is to work multiple jobs just to keep yourself afloat, it’s unfair how we didn’t choose to live like this, yet you kooks torment us for trying to have food to serve on our tables,” you fumed, “so i’m sorry that we don’t have golden spoons sticking out of our mouths or that our daddies don’t give us whatever the hell we want,”

“i can’t believe you doubted us for even a second,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes to keep your tears from falling, “do you think this was all easy for me, rafe? because no, it wasn’t, but i still loved you with all that i am, with all that i have, because i knew that we’ll get through this.”

“y/n-”

“god, i can’t even look at you right now,” you stood up, grabbing your phone as you made your way back to the chateau, tears gathering in your eyes.

“y/n, wait, c’mon-”

rafe grabbed your arm, but you immediately removed it from his grasp as you whipped around, “you know, i may not have a lot to offer, but i knew that i made you happy and i loved you an awful lot, so i’m sorry if that wasn’t enough.”

you let the tears fall this time, looking at him one more time before going in and slamming the door shut, making jj jump up in surprise, “y/n?”

rafe stood there for a moment, trying to shake away the broken look on your face from his mind. he sauntered after you, knocking aggressively at the front door, “y/n, c’mon, i’m sorry, baby.”

john b rushed out of his room, jumbled and confused as he held the bat up, “wha-?”

you shoved him away and hurried back to your room. the two boys exchanged looks before opening the door. to say that they were shocked to see a disheveled rafe cameron on their doorstep was an understatement, “what the fuck are you doing in here, cameron?”

he ignored them and tried to push past them, “get outta the way, pogues,”

but they weren’t having it, they pushed him back with a glare. he scoffed, looking back once more before slowly backing off, grabbing the blanket before speeding away on his motorbike.

you wouldn’t choose to be here if you had a choice, but alas, if it means working at the midsummers and earning a decent salary with free champagne to drown your sorrows in, then you might just have to.

so, clad in a waitress’s apparel, too tight for your liking, and a tray of glasses of champagne in hand, you maneuvered your way towards the old uppity haughty kooks.

at a respectable distance, rafe was looking at you with a sad look on his face, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and tell you how sorry he is and how he loves you so much.

it was when topper’s voice snapped him out of his trance, “have you seen l/n’s ass in that uniform? i would’ve done her right then and there if she wasn’t a pogue,”

the sounds of his friends’ laughters fumed him, but instead of saying anything, he shot up out of his seat and approached you.

you momentarily glanced at him and swallowed, “champagne?”

he grabbed the glass that you shoved at his chest, fingers grazing over another, “y/n, please, i just want to talk,”

“i’m not here for you, cameron,” you caught a glimpse of his friends slowly approaching the both of you, sniggering from behind him, “i’m here to earn some money, so if you’ll excuse me,”

but before you could even make your way around them, topper and kelce harshly knocked on your shoulders, the tray of glasses breaking into pieces as it fell.

“watch it, pogue,”

gasps were heard across the room, as you staggered back from the force. you heard pope and jj run towards you, john b and kiara excusing themselves from the guests to follow.

you let out a shaky breath, crouching down to pick up the pieces as ward slowly walked over to scold you.

as they continued to laugh, they risked a glance to see a livid rafe glaring at them instead of laughing along with them, and with that, their laughter died down, a look of confusion replacing their amusement.

rafe looked around, catching the eye of his father who stopped in his tracks, a glint in his eye as if he was daring him to go help you, to ruin their family’s reputation.

without a single doubt, he took the broken shards from your hold and raised you up by your arms, earning another round of gasps from the crowd.

he looked at you, silently asking for permission. when a small smile tugged your lips, he leaned in slowly, closing in the proximity of your lips. your arms wrapped around his neck as his own wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

as you heard his father’s footsteps, rafe pulled away and grabbed your arm, sprinting into a run.

“rafe!”

the both of you burst into laughter as you dashed through the crowd, hands still intertwined as you looked for a quiet spot.

you stopped at their backyard, fairy lights hung from tree to tree, and the music from the platform softly echoing. trying to catch a breath, you let your head fall on his chest. rafe’s hand ran through your hair, “i’m sorry, y/n,”

“rafe-”

“no, no. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean what i said, okay? i love you too much,” he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks, “i’ll gladly give up the life i have right now if it means spending it with you. none of this luxury would compare to you, no amount of money would make me happy as you do.”

you pulled him into another kiss, running a hand through his hair. it was slow, sensual, something different from the type of intimacy you often did, as though if you rushed things, you’d open your eyes to see that everything was just a dream. rafe brought you closer than possible, a hand resting the other on the small of your back and on your hip, rubbing slow circles on the exposed skin.

pulling away slowly, you whispered a hoarse, “i love you, rafe cameron,”

he smiled softly, swaying slowly to the distant music. an aura of love and sovereignty enveloping the both of you in a bubble of your own. none of you cared about the rivalry anymore, or his father, or what other people would say. let them talk.

it wouldn’t bother you, because you had each other, and that’s what matters the most.

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[the-bau-quinjet]

Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

-

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

-

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

-

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

-

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

[phoenixyfriend]

Quinlan and the Interdimensional Ingenues (except not really)

Context: SW Suddenly Omegaverse AU (Original Post), Interior Design (Nesting Divots), Chrono Rating: T+ Relationships: Anakin & Obi-Wan, Quinlan/Obi-Wan

This is like 90% cuddles and scenting that’s a few steps to the side of a/b/o standard. There is a lot of non-sexual licking. It’s a little odd, but I’m assuming that’s what you’re here for. It’s also over 5k words, so, you know. There’s that.

Note: “Ternary” is to the number three as “binary” is to the number two. Binary gender/sex refers to IRL male/female distinctions, and ternary refers to alpha/beta/omega. Gender and sex are much more complicated than is touched on in this particular fic, and trans identities exist within both the binary system and the ternary system. (More notes at end.)

-----

“Sorry to tell you this,” Quinlan says, sliding into the room as quickly as he can, “but we can smell omega distress from several rooms down the hall. What the hell is going on?”

“We’ve having a lot of feelings,” Kenobi says drily. He’s on the couch, looking damnably normal, and Skywalker’s got his face shoved into his master’s neck. Kenobi’s fingers card through the curls, and it’s... well, it would be easy to tell which of them was having said feelings even if Quinlan hadn’t already been able to tell them apart in scent.

“I’m distraught,” Skywalker moans, mushing himself somehow closer.

Kenobi’s eyes go to the ceiling, and he visibly prays to the Force for patience. “I know, Anakin.”

“You think I’m being dumb.”

“I think you’ve had a few months to prepare for this, but that your reaction is understandable nevertheless,” Kenobi says carefully. “Quinlan, would you like to take a seat?”

He hops the back of an armchair in a way that earns him a long-suffering, fond sigh. Quinlan grins encouragingly. “So, do I get to know what this is about?”

“I’m having trouble keeping it out of the Force, but at least I can do that,” Skywalker mutters. He does not lift his head. “I can’t control the scent stuff.”

“Yeah,” Quinlan says, because he’s not sure what else to say. “Do you want me to go get Tano? Might make you feel better.”

Skywalker just whines, high and pained, and tries to curl impossibly closer to Kenobi.

“Anakin,” Kenobi tries. “Anakin, do you want me to explain?”

“I want my--” Skywalker cuts himself off with a choking noise, and then keens. It’s a very omega noise, in the sense that his vocal cords can make it, and non-omegas have trouble mimicking it, and it makes Quinlan want to go over and do his best to fix things in whatever way he can.

(This, everyone is finding, is the truly awkward element to having Skywalker and Kenobi around. They don’t have any experience with controlling their ternary sex instincts, and it makes everyone else react poorly when they do, well, almost anything. They can’t be blamed, considering exactly how inconvenient this is for them, as well, but it’s not a great time for anyone.)

Quinlan tries to keep his own scent pleasant and calm, as soothing as he can make it through the blockers. He doesn’t think it works. “Your what?”

“His wife,” Kenobi says. “Because apparently that was the other way he broke the Code.”

“I looked her up,” Skywalker moans, dramatic as anyone. “She’s already mated and married, in this timeline. To that artist. She’s totally happy and she’s never met me and I’m never gonna be able to work with or around her because I won’t be able to act normal about it and I miss her.”

‘A lot of feelings‘ Kenobi mouths at Quinlan over Skywalker’s head.

“Well, at least it explains the position you’re in,” Quinlan tries to joke. The blank look he gets from Kenobi tells him clearly that the joke didn’t land. “Uh, scenting at the neck like that.”

“Inappropriate?” Kenobi hazards a guess. He doesn’t pull Skywalker away.

“Sort of,” Quinlan says. “You’re family, or as good as, so between that and the need for comfort, nobody’s really going to judge you for it, especially given your backgrounds, but that kind of prolonged neck-scenting for comfort is something kids outgrow in pre-adolescence. It’s only really used for either comfort for extreme emotions, like this, or, uh, between lovers. Post-coital, or during foreplay before, you know, mouths get involved.”

Kenobi grimaces. “Lovely. And what do you mean by ‘of our backgrounds’ in this case? That we have less control, or another factor?”

He doesn’t sound offended. Quinlan appreciates that. “You didn’t have ten years to get that comfort. It’s like... touch starvation, but for scenting. Anyone who knows what’s going on with you, even in the vague sense that doesn’t involve dimensional travel, is going to give you leeway on scenting because you didn’t have that, growing up.”

Kenobi’s grimace doesn’t go away until Skywalker’s breath hitches, hand curling in his master’s robes. “Anakin?”

“I don’t like feeling like this,” Skywalker mutters. “It sucks.”

“I know.”

“And we can’t delay the war much longer, and she was one of the only reasons I stayed even kinda sane through it.”

“I know, Anakin,” Kenobi sighs, running a hand through Skywalker’s hair and, awkwardly as anything, pressing a small kiss to the young man’s forehead. “You’ll have other ways to de-stress this time around. Maybe you’ll actually attend your meditative retreats.”

Skywalker huffs out a breath, in a laugh wet with what might be burgeoning tears. “Shut up.”

“I think you’ve known me far too long to think I’ll ever run out of words,” Kenobi says. He meets Quinlan’s eyes again, but before either of them can communicate about whether Quinlan should leave, Skywalker lurches to his feet, muttering something about a shower.

He’s gone before Kenobi can get more than two words out, and the man is left looking ruffled and confused by his former padawan’s sudden departure. He stays watching the door, and slowly wilts in a way that doesn’t speak well for his state of mind. The man sighs and drops his head into his hands, cradling it with his elbows on his knees, and whatever calm he’d had fades into pure stress, the air curdling with the smell of it.

Quinlan waits, unsure of how to handle this; Kenobi’s Quinlan Vos probably would have known how to deal with the change.

“What am I doing?” Kenobi breathes out, the words almost inaudible from behind his hands.

There are a few moments for Quinlan to consider the many complications and ramifications of getting involved, and then he decides to do so anyway. He stands up and steps around the caff table, and sits down next to Kenobi. He wraps an arm around the man’s shoulders, and brings him in close.

“You don’t have to do this,” Kenobi says, though he makes no move to pull away. “I know you don’t... this is just an obligation. The Council assigned you to gather information and keep an eye out for us in terms of the whole omega thing, since you already shared my heat, and... I know I’m not a friend to you. You barely know me, and the fact that you have to look out for me is something that truly grates. Such care shouldn’t...”

Quinlan waits for him to finish, but he doesn’t.

“I won’t say that they didn’t give me that assignment, because that would be a lie and you’d know it,” Quinlan says. “But I do want to be friends with you. We’re sort of there, already, even if that’s mostly you knowing my other self, and my psychometry, but I’ve seen what a friendship with you could be like, in what you let me see. We’ll never have that same dynamic, because I didn’t grow up with you, and the ternary sex adds an element that changes things, but I do want to be your friend.”

He hesitates, unsure if the rest will make things worse or better, but says it anyway. “As for taking care of you, looking out for you... I do feel a need to do that on an instinctual level, yes, but I can ignore it. It’s an instinct, but one that I, like everyone else that’s grown up as a human or near human in this galaxy, can work around. I am doing more than the minimum the Council requested, and it’s because I do actually like you as a person, and want to know you better.”

Kenobi’s head is resting on his shoulder by this point, tired and heavy, and Quinlan reaches up to brush his knuckles against the beard without looking. His blockers are still keeping his scent down, but the contact seems to make Kenobi relax more. His hands are mostly laced together, and falling into the dip between their legs.

“There’s a way I can help, but it’s, ah... not inherently sexual in nature, but generally only done by those whose relationship is already some degree of sexual,” Quinlan tells him. “To make you feel better, less stressed.”

“I’m assuming you’re not suggesting an orgasm,” Kenobi mutters, dry as anything. He laughs when Quinlan puts a hand on his knee.

“Not exactly feeling it,” Quinlan agrees. He squeezes Kenobi’s knee, and then says, “No, it’s mostly scenting in a way that’s usually only done by lovers; it’s more effective, but very intimate in a way many find uncomfortably sexual, because the amount of tongue involved is very reminiscent of foreplay.”

Kenobi laughs, a little harder, and nuzzles a little. He doesn’t seem aware of the fact that he’s doing it. “Alright, then.”

“I’d also suggest moving to one of the nests,” Quinlan says, and Kenobi immediately freezes. He gives it a moment, and then says, “I know you found it helpful after your heat, Kenobi. The nesting instinct is human here. It’s not shameful. There are people who don’t get anything out of it, but I’ve seen you nesting, and it’s good for you.”

Kenobi shudders and Quinlan thinks he might be fighting down a whine. “It’s a change, Quin. I mean, Quinlan. It’s... it’s just another thing out of many that’s different.”

“And one of the few you have control over?” Quinlan guesses. He tries to purr for support when Kenobi nods against his shoulder, and he thinks the deep rumble is soothing to Kenobi. “I get that.”

“Don’t stop,” Kenobi mutters, and Quinlan can guess he’s blushing about it.

“Into the nest,” Quinlan mutters. “It’ll help convince Skywalker to use it, and he really needs that kind of comfort.”

That’s the line of logic that actually works, and Quinlan isn’t the least bit surprised.

“Fine,” Kenobi sighs, and gets to his feet before Quinlan can offer to carry him or something similarly joking. The man walks to the communal nest at the edge of the room, and then looks down into the barely-used mess of blankets and pillows in the floor divot like he doesn’t even know how to get in.

Quinlan thinks there might be dust, even.

Fine. He can work with that. He’s taken this duo on as a project of his own free will, and he’s damn well going to follow through.

“Want to rearrange it?” he asks, in hopes that he can prompt Kenobi into figuring out what’s wrong.

“I don’t... know,” Kenobi says, frowning in a way that’s more worried and uncomfortable than angry. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Quinlan considers it, thinks of how the dust means nobody’s been here, that there’s not even a hint of scent, and then turns and grabs the throw pillows and thick, woven blanket from the couch.

“Wait,” Kenobi protests. “They don’t--”

“We can put them back later,” Quinlan assures him. He holds them out to Kenobi. “Trust me? I may not be an omega, but I do know enough of the theory.”

Kenobi takes the pillows and the blanket, stares down at them and then at the nest, and steps out of his slippers and into the nest. The layer already there is thin, and likely not doing much for anyone, but it’s the bare minimum and Quinlan can work with that.

He turns and scouts the room for spare fabrics, grabs all three of the outer robes from where they hang by the door, and the recently-used dishtowel that only barely carries Skywalker’s scent, and brings them to Kenobi.

“The robes aren’t clean!” Kenobi protests.

“I could grab something from your room instead,” Quinlan says. “Or you could just leave the hems on the outside. But you need more fabric that actually smells like someone.”

Quinlan wonders, idly, if Kenobi would have this kind of reaction to the suggestion without omega instincts at play, or if it’s just the instincts and he doesn’t realize, or maybe that he’s decided to let the instincts happen since Quinlan’s pushed him into nesting already anyway. The man had insisted in perfectly pressing his robes from the beginning, long before their bodies had had a chance to change, and Skywalker had found it normal, so it’s probably, at least a little, just the man’s personality. It probably doesn’t matter, overall, because all Quinlan has to do is sit at the edge of the nest until Kenobi--the person who actually lives here--is done arranging things.

Quinlan takes off another two layers and offers them, noting out loud that he can get them back later when Skywalker can fill in the gaps or something before too many protests can be voiced. Kenobi hesitantly takes them and tucks them in among his own additional layers. Quinlan’s seen enough communal nests to know that most of the placements are odd and not going to work out long-term, but that’s not the point right now. The point is getting Kenobi to recognize the his body, and more importantly, his mental health, rely at least somewhat on nesting now.

“Are you going to come in?” Kenobi asks, belatedly realizing Quinlan’s still outside the lip of the flooring divot.

“Not without permission,” Quinlan says, and sees the realization flicker in.

Kenobi holds out a hand, silent, and Quinlan lets himself get tugged in among the half-stale, half-new nest. It’s not great, but that’ll come with practice. He tucks himself around Kenobi, and rubs at the man’s arms in an attempt to ease some of the tension that’s clinging to every line of his body.

“What now?” Kenobi asks, just a shade more quiet than Quinlan thinks is really required by the situation.

“A lot of the stress you’re feeling is a feedback loop from being covered in your own distress scent,” Quinlan says. “You can shower to handle that, which is what Skywalker is doing, or you can manually remove it.”

“I’d imagine a wet towel,” Kenobi says, a touch wry, “but given that you mentioned tongue earlier, I’m guessing you intend to lick it away?”

“It’s more effective,” Quinlan admits. “Not at removing the scent, necessarily, but it removes enough to help while also generating comfort and relaxation hormones from the close contact, and being scented by a trusted individual.”

“Makes sense,” Kenobi admits. “You, ah, use scent blockers usually, right? Can you, er, scent me?”

Quinlan can see just how much Kenobi dislikes using the words. He tries to keep it quick. “I use a cream blocker over my scent glands, namely at the neck and wrists, since the rest are covered in fabric. It’s... well, it can be wiped off, or also removed orally. Most manually-applied blockers are formulated to be safe for contact with the mouth or genitals. Only really gets to be a problem if there are rare allergies or with specific species. It doesn’t taste like anything, if that matters.”

Kenobi’s discomfort is almost palpable, but Quinlan lets him work through that. This isn’t really something he can make a choice for Kenobi about, and the discomfort is... well, it’s not really the kind of discomfort usually associated with ternary sex and associated behaviors. Everything’s just very new, and comes with changes to the body that Kenobi never agreed to.

“Right,” Kenobi says. “I want to... to at least try it, I think.”

He turns and blushes, eyes anywhere by Quinlan’s face. “I don’t know how much longer Anakin will be. I’d rather he not think we’re, er...”

“Then I’ll take care of that part fast,” Quinlan promises, and is rewarded by Kenobi offering a wrist.

It’s... not sexual. Quinlan knows he has a hard time explaining this to near-humans that don’t have the scent glands, that don’t have the ternary dynamics. He’s had a similarly hard time explaining it to Kenobi and Skywalker. It’s not sexual, just intimate, when he pulls Kenobi’s wrist to his face, closes his eyes, and breathes in the scent of a distressed, uncomfortable, bitter omega that he’s shared a heat with and knows as almost-friend. The smell, this close and this strong, triggers the production of pheromones of his own, and when he feels Kenobi tentatively start pressing kisses to Quinlan’s own wrist, he relaxes. He brushes his lips against Kenobi’s wrist, and then puts his open mouth to it, the slightest press of teeth and his tongue laving across the skin. He hears Kenobi’s gasp, an almost-yelp, and pulls away long enough to press a kiss the the veins under his lips, and to say, “Relax, Kenobi.”

He forces a purr out, low and rumbling, and feels it work on Kenobi just like it did earlier. There’s a tongue pulling, a little dry, to rub away the blocker on the inside of his wrist, and he turns his attention back to Kenobi’s. The scent is even stronger on his tongue, bitter and unhappy, and his body continues to produce calm and comfort as he pulls away the uglier feelings painted on Kenobi’s skin.

More pheromones leak under his mouth, but less bitter. Less intense. He does what he can, opens his eyes and turns and sees that Kenobi is unduly focused on his wrist, mouthing and not quite purring, but oddly fuzzy in the Force. His eyes are closed, but Quinlan’s pretty sure they’d be glazed if not.

“Kenobi?”

“Hm?”

“Guess you haven’t encountered this outside of a heat before,” Quinlan mutters. He shakes his arm a bit, and puts his other hand on Kenobi’s shoulder. “Kenobi, hey, look at me?”

Kenobi pulls away, blinking, and then makes a face. “That...”

“Didn’t like losing control?” Quinlan guesses. The answer is clear enough. “It’s a matter of practice, especially for you.”

“Why did I... it smelled and tasted like... like I was safe,” Kenobi mutters lowly, eyes on the nest instead of on Quinlan. “I’ve never associated any sense with safety other than the Force.”

“You trust me,” Quinlan says, as if that’s not a little terrifying in its own way. He already knew that Kenobi trusted him, but he thinks that this strong of a reaction might make him Kenobi’s most trusted person after Skywalker and maybe Tano. “And since you trust me, your body subconsciously takes cues from mine, when it comes to pheromones. I project comfort and safety, and your body takes it as... not fact, but affirmation.”

“So I won’t react to anyone like this,” Kenobi says, not quite begging for Quinlan to confirm, but close to it. “Just you, and... does that same logic apply to those who aren’t Alpha designation?”

“Yeah,” Quinlan says. “Not in the same way, but familiarity and trust does affect which pheromones affect you, and how strongly. Children are largely unresponsive to aggression pheromones from their parents, by default, since their minds process it as aggression in defense of them, rather than aggression at them.”

Kenobi purses his lips, but nods and looks at Quinlan’s other wrist. “Moving on?”

“If you’re okay with it,” Quinlan says, but he brings his cleaned wrist to Kenobi’s and rubs them together until his own comfort scent is covering up what’s left of the distress. “Take a smell at that and see how you feel.”

Kenobi eyes him warily--he’s pretty sure he hasn’t done anything to deserve that, but allows it because, well, Kenobi--and sniffs at his own wrist. His brow furrows in confusion, and he sniffs again.

“Good?” Quinlan hazards.

“I... yeah,” Kenobi says. He sounds as confused as he looks. “I like it. It’s... the safe thing, again, but mixing with me?”

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” Quinlan assures him. “Other wrist?”

If he were actually the friend that Kenobi had grown up with, if he’d actually had a Kenobi to grow up with, he thinks he might have thrown in a few joking pet names by now.

But he’s not, and they didn’t, so he won’t.

He thinks he hears Skywalker finish up in the shower, but Kenobi pulls his mouth to the neck, and mutters that they have some time while Skywalker does something to his hair. Apparently, there are products needed for those curls.

The angle’s going to be a little uncomfortable if they try to get at each other’s scent glands simultaneously, so Quinlan suggests that Kenobi handle getting the blocker off first.

“Why?”

“More convenient,” Quinlan says, and then clasps Kenobi’s hands so their wrists rub together. He squeezes, just a little, a touch of reassurance, and smiles and tilts his head. “All yours, Kenobi.”

The man smiles, brittle, and almost giggles. Maybe Quinlan was doing something oddly similar to his counterpart from Kenobi’s dimension. Maybe it was an inside joke he didn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because Kenobi’s leaning in and mouthing along Quinlan’s neck and throat like a man possessed a half-second later.

Quinlan closes his eyes and threads a hand into Kenobi’s hair, focuses on warmth and comfort and protection, rather than anything aroused. Kenobi slows down, lapping at Quinlan’s neck and inhaling, and in the Force he radiates confusion.

“That’s it,” Quinlan mutters, and Kenobi makes a low chirruping noise that he immediately stifles with an annoyed huff. “Hey, no, those are normal. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I want control over my own body, Quin,” Kenobi mutters, and switches to the other side. He rubs his face against Quinlan’s neck, and it’s another point on the list of things Kenobi does that he might not realize are based in newer instincts. “I don’t like something being wrong with me, and not understanding what it is.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Quinlan mutters, using the hand in Kenobi’s hair to guide him into actually removing the scent blocker instead of donating a case of beard burn. “Even going as fast as you did just now wasn’t something wrong. Your instincts got a bit confused, that’s all. You’re fine.”

He purrs until Kenobi is done, and gets that chirruping noise again. Kenobi’s still annoyed about it, but Quinlan’s just happy he’s getting less uncomfortable about it.

“Okay, sit up and turn around,” Quinlan says, and Kenobi eyes him again. “Have I steered you wrong yet?”

“No.”

“So trust me,” Quinlan urges. “Just turn around.”

Kenobi does. Quinlan sits up and rearranges his legs so there’s one on either side of Kenobi, half-bent. He pulls the other man closer, blankets folding oddly beneath them, and wraps his arms around Kenobi’s waist.

He breathes for a moment, chin hooked over Kenobi’s shoulder, and asks, “Good?”

“Oddly so, yes,” Kenobi mutters. He might be blushing. “Er, should I... do anything?”

“Hands on mine, if you’d like,” Quinlan tells him. “We can lie back down and spoon after I clean up your left.”

The noise Kenobi makes is low, affronted in a way that speaks to his ongoing embarrassment. Quinlan ignores it, just gets to work taking away as much of Kenobi’s stress scent as he can, mouthing along the man’s neck and managing a purr that isn’t even forced. It rumbles out of him unprompted, his hindbrain piecing together the relaxing omega in his lap and the safety of the Temple and the pride he’s got in doing this right, the knowledge that Kenobi’s happier than he was an hour ago and it’s all Quinlan’s doing.

He rubs his face along Kenobi’s neck as he finishes up, scenting and being scented back, and is gratified when Kenobi starts purring too. The nuzzling is mostly soft, though Quinlan’s stubble is nothing to Kenobi’s beard; the hairs trap Quinlan’s scent where it’ll do the most good. He follows a hint of mischievous intent and tugs at Kenobi’s earlobe with his teeth, earning himself a little whine. He laughs, and licks the curve of Kenobi’s ear, immediately scenting further.

“Anakin’s going to be back soon,” Kenobi says, sounding almost sleep drunk.

Quinlan switches sides and guides them both down to lie, chest to front, in the nest. He works more slowly on the other side, keeps himself  propped up on his elbow, forearm slipped neatly under Kenobi’s neck. The scent gland at Quinlan’s wrist rests under Kenobi’s nose, right where it’ll have the most effect. His other hand rubs up and down Kenobi’s side, and by the time Skywalker reenters the room, Quinlan’s done with licking the stress off and rubbing his scent into anything he thinks will help. He’s lying fully on his side instead of having his head propped up, and just doing his best to spread comfort through the room through Force and smell. He maybe nibbles at the back of Kenobi’s neck, here and there, because the man has lothcat response, and

“Guys?”

“Over here, Skywalker.”

The kid--not really a kid, but younger than Aayla, still, so he counts--rounds the couch, and sees them among the added cloaks and pillows and blanket. He stares. Kenobi starts to stiffen back up.

Quinlan increases his purring, and rubs his face against Kenobi’s neck, and glares up at Skywalker for good measure. Kenobi can’t see past Quinlan, probably, and squirms. Skywalker tilts his head, and then puts up a finger in a ‘one moment’ sort of gesture. He runs off.

“Anakin--”

“Kid’s fine,” Quinlan assures him, and Skywalker skids back into the room at unsafe speeds, arms full of what Quinlan’s pretty sure are his own duvet and pillow, and falls face-first into the nest. Kenobi jerks back into Quinlan, but Skywalker ignores this in favor of rearranging the nest into something approaching functional. He’s better at it than Kenobi.

Quinlan’s pretty sure Skywalker was more open to these things from the start. It tracks.

“Now Anakin, really,” Kenobi sputters, as Skywalker finishes layering things in the way he thinks is best. Skywalker beams at him, earlier melancholy forgotten for the moment, and flops down to drop his head somewhere near Kenobi’s chest.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Skywalker says. “This is good for you.”

Kenobi blushes, and Quinlan scrapes his teeth against the back of his neck again.

“Quinlan!” Kenobi yelps, jolting. “Not--we’re not alone!”

“Helps you calm down, though,” Quinlan says, pressing a few close-mouthed kisses at Kenobi’s hairline.

“Different cultural standards,” Skywalker adds, half-guessing but sure of himself nonetheless. He seems entirely too delighted to be here. “You know what? We should invite Ahsoka.”

“She’s not your padawan here,” Kenobi scolds.

“Yet,” Skywalker corrects. “As soon as I get all my psych evals cleared, the Council’s going to promise. She’s basically my padawan already.”

Kenobi sighs, aggrieved in a manner that feels more fond than actually upset, in the Force, and places a hand lightly on Skywalker’s.

Skywalker chirrups and wriggles closer, pressing his face to Kenobi’s tunic with a smile.

“I see someone’s feeling better,” Kenobi notes, and moves his hand up to play with Skywalker’s hair. “The shower helped?”

“Mm-hm,” Skywalker says. “’nd some of the stuff they made me learn in therapy.”

Kenobi hums low in his throat, an aimless vocalization, as he continues to comb his fingers through Skywalker’s hair.

Skywalker blinks, slow and bleary, with a soft and dopey smile, and Kenobi stops.

“What?”

“I like it when you play with my hair,” Skywalker says, almost too low to hear. His eyes close. “Feels nice. Cared for. Family.”

Kenobi freezes, breath hitching, and Quinlan shifts and lifts just enough to see the man is staring at his own hand in confusion and a slight bit of fear.

“Kenobi?”

“I didn’t even question it,” Kenobi says faintly. “I don’t... I haven’t done that since he was just a child, but I didn’t even question it. I stopped myself from commenting that he’s too old to come to his master for cuddles, because he’s not, in this dimension, and I’m getting used to that, but I started playing with his hair like it was normal and it’s not.”

Quinlan puts his mouth to Kenobi’s trapezius, just enough pressure that he’s not biting, just there, and purrs.

It’s several inches away from anything resembling a mating bite, but Kenobi tilts his head and whines anyway.

“Obi-Wan?” Skywalker prompts, brow furrowed. “It’s not... I mean, I’m not going to say it’s okay, since I know we’re both still upset about our bodies being changed without our permission or input or even a warning, but we’re getting used to it. We’re working with it. The hair thing is fine with me, I like it and would have before. And now that you know you’ll want to do, uh, that sort of thing--”

“Subset of grooming behaviors,” Quinlan tells them, pulling away from Kenobi’s neck with a final open-mouthed kiss. He sees the face Skywalker makes in response to the words, and feels Kenobi’s discomfort, so he elaborates. They’ve compared most of what they hear with tookas and lothwolves, so he thinks he knows what this is about. “We’re not exactly going to start licking each other clean--excluding scent comfort, that’s different--like lothcats, but you’ve already noticed that humans and near-humans are more tactile than you’re used to. Most forms of care, especially of partners and children, ends up physical in some way.”

He gestures between the two of them. “You view Skywalker as family, for all that you shy away from defining it, and so naturally gravitate to care. The easiest way for that to manifest when sharing a nest is usually playing with someone’s hair. Since he’s younger than you, and you’ve spent as much time as you have being the adult in his life...”

Quinlan trails off before he can comment on the question of whether they’re closer to brothers or father-and-son. Kenobi’s already expressed discomfort with that topic, well before they started naturalizing to this dimension. Quinlan’s not going to push for Kenobi to acknowledge Skywalker’s importance to him.

(They’ll have to address it at some point, but that’s a job for the mind healers, not for Quinlan.)

(For all that it’s going to impact and be impacted by their dynamics, that much is definitely not Quinlan’s to handle.)

Kenobi shudders in his arms, but doesn’t shake him off, and doesn’t stop Skywalker from burrowing somehow closer. Quinlan settles back in as Kenobi returns to playing with Skywalker’s hair.

“We really should invite Ahsoka, though.”

“Not tonight, padawan.”

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

Additional notes:

I initially wrote “ternary gender,” but found that it didn’t strike true to how I envisioned gender and dynamic playing out among Jedi culture in particular. While the term ‘dynamic’ is used regularly in a more casual setting, Quinlan uses the term “ternary sex” when talking about it in the company of Anakin and Obi-Wan. I view it as a subconscious attempt to keep a clinical view of the ternary sex system present in the omegaverse dimension, in recognition that it’s new and unfamiliar and often unpleasant for Anakin and Obi-Wan, having come from a dimension that doesn’t have ternary sexes or the associated reproductive capabilities, instincts, or cycles.

I’d like to explore how the ideas of sex, gender, dynamic, and so on intersect within the context of this universe, because I think it’s something I’d have a lot of fun working with, but this is not the fic for that.

[cherryyharryy]

please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

[neonacity]

PAUBAYA CHAPTER 4: JOHNNY X READER

Paubaya (v) - a Filipino word which means to entrust something or someone to another; to give something away.

Pairing: Johnny x Reader

Themes: angst, single parent au

TW: cheating

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

-----

"Where have you been?" Doyoung whispered to me as I made a beeline towards his table after I emerged from the garden. I didn't answer at first, my focus set on looking anywhere else but the seat he reserved for me. In my peripheral vision, I saw a tall form walk past us, Doyoung's gaze following him silently. With the way his face stiffened, I knew I didn't need to explain for him to piece two and two together. 

A warm hand enveloped mine under the table and my head finally snapped up to look at him. Doyoung's lips were pressed together and he was looking at me so intently, it made me want to look away again. 

"Are you okay?"

I gave him a slight nod and forced a smile.

"Yes. Let's talk about it later." 

He gave my hand a squeeze before reluctantly letting it go. I wish he didn't, especially after my gaze met a pair of eyes watching us from the other side of the garden. 

The party went by just as expected. Everything followed a tight formal schedule, with Johnny's soon-to-be-father in law announcing their family's move to open a school for underprivileged kids in Seoul. Despite the pompousness of the event, I couldn't help but notice the otherwise humble air clinging around Johnny's fiance who was happily and silently watching everything from her table. Looking at her from my vantage point, I couldn't deny how breathtakingly beautiful she is in her own soft way. She is perfect in every sense of the word... even more so with Johnny sitting beside her. 

I forced myself to look away. 

The clock was moving too slow for my liking by the time dinner was served. I was barely touching my food when I heard a soft voice call out my name, causing me and Doyoung to look towards its direction. 

The ball's belle of the night was walking towards us, her hand tucked on the crook of Johnny's arm.

"Hello. I'm so glad you came. Oh gosh, you look beautiful," she said as she stopped just before our table, her smile wide. I stood up and felt her hands wrap mine between hers. "I was a little bit worried, I thought Johnny didn't reach out to you." 

I managed to give her a smile and a polite bow. Doyoung did the same beside me, his eyes landing anywhere but on the other man in our small group. 

"I'm glad we came. Your family's initiative is so interesting," I said honestly despite myself. My words only made her smile grow wider and she looked briefly back at Johnny with a proud look on her face. He smiled back at her gently. 

My chest ached.

"Do you mind if we sit here with you for a bit? You see… I don't really know anyone here and everyone is talking about business things." 

This time, it was me and Doyoung's turn to exchange glances. It was Doyoung who swooped in to answer after clearly noticing my initial hesitation. 

"Sure. We were just finishing dinner." 

The pair took their seats across from us and I gently cleared my throat to gather myself. 

"You two look so good together. I hope Jiwoo is okay with me borrowing his parents for a bit?" 

There was a slight beat of silence before I realized that I had to say something about that. By now, the weight of my current situation has started slowly but steadily sinking in, like a rock in quick sand. I dug my own grave, now I have to bite the bullet and survive this.

Maybe it was my own stupidity finally catching up with me, but I felt a sense of resignation overcome me like a wash of warm air.

"Jiwoo's fine… he's with his grandmother. And, Doyoung and I, we're not together. He's my best friend," I said calmly with a smile. I saw a slight movement on Johnny's side but I refused to look at him.

His girlfriend, however, had a more obvious reaction to what I said. Her eyes widened and she clapped her hand to her lips.

"Oh my god, I am so so sorry. It was wrong of me to assume—I must have made the two of you so uncomfortable," she said apologetically, her eyes moving between me and Doyoung. I shook my head and tried to give her a reassuring smile. 

"It's fine. We get that a lot." 

"You do? That makes me feel a lot better. I mean, you just… you two really look so nice together. Right, Johnny?" 

My gaze snapped to him before I could even stop myself. Johnny didn't spare me a glance, but his gaze landed pointedly on Doyoung beside me. 

"They do." 

I turned my head slightly towards Doyoung and saw him meeting the other's eyes with his own unwavering stare. An uncomfortable feeling started gathering in the pit of my stomach at the set of his jaw. I know that look. It's the exact same one he has whenever he is planning to—

"We did date though. Back in college."

...do something stupid.

My head whipped so hard towards him that I almost heard my neck crick. I gave Doyoung a look after the initial shock settled but he refused to glance at me.

"You two did?" I heard Johnny's girlfriend ask gently from across the table. She probably felt the tension in the air and decided to voice out her question to diffuse it a bit. 

"Yes," Doyoung answered casually, though I could hear the running tension in his voice. I wanted to reach out to his arm to signal him to stop but I couldn't will myself to move from my frozen state. I watched in silent foreboding as he leaned back on his seat, his eyes still set on Johnny.

"We were dating for maybe about a year but decided we were better off as friends. You do know the reason why, don't you Johnny? You were part of the friend group after all." 

"Doyoung, please—"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Johnny finally spoke up, his voice low. I didn't need to look at him to figure out the expression on his face.

"Ah, you forgot? I guess it wasn't that much of a big deal on your side then. Let me refresh it for you," Doyoung said with a laugh that had zero tones of amusement on it. My heart was beating so hard in my chest, I could hear it hammering against my skull. 

"There's someone she liked more, so we stopped. The good thing out of it is that we became best friends." 

I was speechless. My eyes didn't dare move from Doyoung's face, even when Johnny's girlfriend spoke up again. 

"Oh… college can get a little bit complicated when it comes to that…" 

"It can get really messy. We were kids, of course, but still. Do you want to know what happened with him? The other guy? I'm not really sure if Johnny still remembers." 

Our table was silent. Even my heart has stopped beating so fast, as if it knows what's coming. Across from us, Johnny's fiance looked between me and Doyoung before glancing at her boyfriend. 

"What happened to him…?" She finally asked when she realized none of us was going to voice out the question. 

Doyoung met Johnny's eyes again, his own gaze burning.

"He just broke her heart."

---

"I'm sorry." 

I kept my head turned to the window and didn't spare him a glance. My eyes followed the lights passing us as we sped through the highway despite me not really seeing them. Doyoung was silent beside me, waiting for any reaction, before giving a deep sigh. He knew I wasn't planning to speak to him anytime soon, but tonight he seems set on getting something out of me. I suddenly looked up in surprise as I felt the car swerve to the side all of a sudden, parking on the safe side of the road.

"What the hell are you doing?" 

"We need to talk." 

"You don't get to decide that after what you pulled off earlier. Why did you have to do that, Doyoung?" 

"I didn't know. I was angry and—look. I know I'm wrong but he deserved it." 

"He probably did, but you didn't have to do it there, right in front of his girlfriend! We were her guests, Doyoung. You disrespected her."

He gave me an incredulous look. 

"Can you hear yourself right now? Why are you defending the girl he cheated on you with?!"

"I am not defending her!" My voice started to rise and I turned half of my body in my seat to face him fully.

"And even if I am, there is nothing wrong with that. She doesn't even know about Johnny and me. She is innocent—"

"Exactly the point! She is innocent because your stupid ex-boyfriend didn't have enough balls to even tell her that he had to break another person just to be with her back then. He went on with his merry little life with his new woman while he left you and your son, and now he thinks he can just waltz back into it just because he found out about Jiwoo? And that's not even the worst thing. The real problem here is that you're letting him do it!"

I stared dumbfounded at Doyoung, speechless at his words. We have been friends for years, but never had he spoken this way towards me, not even when we had to amicably stop dating because of Johnny. It hurt me to see him this way, but at the moment, the stabbing pain of the truth behind his words was overcoming me more. 

I know he is telling the truth. I just do not want to admit it.

"You don't know anything about what I'm doing and what I am not—"

"Oh for fuck's sake. Just stop it," he spat as he turned to look at the road ahead. His hands tightened on the wheel of his car briefly, his knuckles turning white. "Don't give me that thing about me not knowing what you are going through. How can I not when I've seen it all? I was the first one who realized how much you liked Johnny back then before you even realized it yourself. I was always there watching it all, and now it's happening again. It's happening again even if you don't see it yet." 

The pain in his eyes punched a hole through my chest. Doyoung had always been the strong one in this relationship, even during those times when I didn't choose him. He had always been my foundation, my ride or die that it hurts to see him like this right now. 

"Doyoung…"

"Do you still love him?"

My voice died in my throat. I stared at him, stupefied by the question. 

"Why are you—"

"It's a yes or no question. Do you still love him?" 

"I don't," my voice sounded alien to my ears when I said it. "I don't love him anymore." 

He finally turned to look at me. For a moment he did nothing else but gaze at me, as if he's searching for something deep that's hidden in my eyes.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," He asked softly, his gaze somber this time. I don't know if he found whatever it is he was wanting to see in my gaze but something changed in the way he looked at me. I felt unable to look away and silently noted how my heart rate started picking up again, this time for an entirely different reason. 

"About what?" I asked in return, my voice a low whisper.

"About not liking you anymore," I watched as his face moved closer to mine until I could almost feel his breath fanning my lips. 

"...I never really stopped." 

----

A/N: so this one is a little bit shorter than my usual ones but I decided to cut it here anyway just because it felt right lol. I'd also like to thank everyone who drops comments, messages, and also reblogs and likes for this fic. As a creator, simple things like these really inspire us. So thank you to everyone who has shown love to this story so far. Me all loves you

Anyway, tag list!

Chapter 5

@suhpersonic @minejungwoo @yourchasingsunsetslove @yuta-nakitamoto

@clanggyyyy @entropy127 @girlwithimaginarybiaslist @jenosdaemi @melodikathings @uranna

[multiplefandomfics]

Relations

Pairing: Bucky x Stark!reader

Warnings: angst, soft smut, fluff, fighting

Words: 2862

“Y/N? Where are you?” no response.

“Friday? Would you be so kind as to tell me where my little sister is running around?” 

“Of course, boss. She is currently sitting in the garden, reading a book.” 

“Thanks Friday.”

Tony headed out to talk to his sister. 

“There you are. Please come inside. We have to talk.”

“Alright. I’m coming.” you smiled up at your big brother. 

He was everything to you. Y/N had been born in 1990 and had not exactly been planned. A year later your parents had died and Tony was left alone with an infant. Fortunately he was wealthy enough to have nannies looking after you as long as he was still in college. 

But the time you did spend together was thoroughly enjoyed. Everytime he was home he took you to the zoo, swimming or you just celebrated your lives. 

All in all Tony Stark was the best brother anyone could have wanted. 

Then he was kidnapped and became Iron Man. And Y/N was in the middle of it all. Tony tried to keep you away from it all but that didn’t work very well. You had begged him time and time again to make a suit for you too but he refused. Fortunately you were as technically talented as he was, copied Tony’s files for his suit, made some modifications and built it. 

Yours was purple and silver instead of red and gold and it had some other nice gadgets which would probably prove useful. 

When you took the first flying test outside the tower you didn’t really care that you were probably going to get caught. 

And of course the moment you landed again Tony busted you.

“Y/N. What were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt.” he was worried.

“But I didn’t. You really have very little trust in my abilities. I flew didn’t I? And I used your plans and software. I even have Friday on my ears at all times.” you rolled your eyes at your brother.

“I can’t decide if I should be angry or proud.” he muttered. “I trust you and your skills but please let me ease my conscience and have a look over your work before you go flying again.” he asked.

“Alright, if that calms you down, sure.” you smiled and hugged your brother.

“So what is this about?” you asked him.

“I am throwing a party tonight to celebrate taking down the hydra base and recovering the scepter.” he beamed.

“And I am invited?” 

“Of course. Wear something nice.” he instructed and left you alone in the entryway. 

Y/N prepared half the afternoon for the spectacle and looked your best when evening rolled around. You hung at the bar with Natasha and Bruce, let Thor and Rhodey tell their war stories and sat around the table while everyone tried to lift Mjölnir and failed miserably.

Then suddenly a mangled Iron legion droid came walking through the door saying strange stuff and ending up attacking everyone. You were just so able to jump behind the bar and duck down. After that you promised yourself that you would never feel that helpless again. You wanted to be in the thick of it all. 

When the dust settled everyone was really confused. The peacekeeping program Ultron had “killed” Jarvis and taken off into the world wide web. 

“What did just happen?” Rhodey asked while Thor was on the way searching for Ultron.

After a battle with Ultron and the Maximoff twins, where everyone seemed to have lost their minds at one point or another and the Hulk destroying half a town while Tony tried to stop him, you made it out alive and had to disappear and landed with Clint’s family. 

You stayed there for a while and then left for Seol to retrieve the crate with the human print inside.

In the end you had a new addition to the team and a devastating fight against machines in Sokovia. 

Everyone was upset after that. Sokovia was destroyed, many civilians had died and Hulk was MIA. Thor left too to shine some light onto the appearances of the infinity stones.

You stayed at the newly built compound to start your official training with Vision, Wanda and Sam.

Some time later things escalated in Lagos with Rumlow and a biological weapon. After that everyone was suddenly afraid of Wanda although she was just as scared. 

A day later you were walking through the hallways, passing some office and conference rooms on your way to the gym. You were lost in thought when you heard your brother's voice. At first you wanted to storm in and surprise him but then you heard him talking.

“She isn’t actually my sister, Steve. She’s my daughter. Y/N is my daughter. I’ve never told anyone before I couldn’t-” the rest was not heard by Y/N because you had dropped your towel and run towards your room. 

The next few days you just couldn’t face your father. That was so strange to think. You never said it out loud. Y/N felt so betrayed. Why did he never tell you? Of course he had been relatively young when you were born but he still could have been honest with you. Did he not want to be seen as your father? Were you such a disappointment? And over all of that stood the question after your mother. Who was she? What happened to her? Why did she not want to meet you? All those thoughts rushed through your brain and you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that Tony didn’t want to admit the truth to you because you weren’t worth it. 

The bad thoughts did not leave you alone anymore. You had nightmares and isolated yourself from everyone during the days. 

Although everyone was constantly asking you what was wrong, you couldn’t tell them.

Until the day Natasha and Pepper waltzed into your room, overriding Friday’s authority. 

“Hey Y/N. We noticed that you have been by yourself a lot lately, not letting anyone in anymore. So tell us, what is going on with you? You know you can trust us.” Pepper added the last part after seeing you hesitating. And finally you caved in.

“I overheard Tony and Steve talk a few days ago. He said something I need time to process for.”

“What did he say that shocked you so much?” Nat asked.

“All my life I thought he was my brother. He’s been my rock. We went through thick and thin and then I find out that he lied to me all these years.”

“What do you mean he’s not your brother?” Nat pressed further.

“He told Steve that he’s actually my father.” the girls looked at you dumbfounded and it got eerie quiet.

“You sure you heard that right?”

“Of course I am sure. I’m not deaf!” you said a little enraged.

“And I gather you have not talked to him about it yet, have you?” Pepper had a calming nature especially when she put her hand on Y/N arm.

“No I haven’t. I couldn’t. What if it is somehow my fault that he didn’t tell me? What if he doesn’t consider me good enough to be his daughter?” you started to sob quietly.

“Hey, look at me Y/N. If anything it is the other way around. Under all that confident exterior he is actually very insecure and I am sure that he just didn’t want you to be disappointed to have him as a father.” Pepper ensured you.

“You really think so?” you sniffed looking up at her.

“I do. You should talk to him.” she encouraged you.

“Maybe I should tell him that I know and see how he reacts.”

But before you could go forward with your plan Friday alerted you and Nat to come to the conference room because the Secretary of defense had arrived to talk about something 

 The fights in Sokovia and Lagos had been PR nightmares and the government and the UN did not want to stand by anymore. The Avengers had to bow to the law and sign the Sokovia accords or they would be forced to retire. They were given a few days to think about it and talk this through. 

After long discussions the team split in two. Which led to the situation at hand. 

Your dad had grounded you together with Wanda after you had voiced your opinion that you thought Steve was right. Well, when Clint came to pick up Wanda you stuck to them and flew to Germany. Steve was kinda surprised when he saw you get out of the car at the airport but he thought you were old enough to make your own decisions. 

Well, it ended in a really bad fight in the middle of the runway. In the end you made it out with Steve and Bucky and flew to Siberia under Steve's protest.  

“So you’ve been Steve’s friend since childhood, hm?” you asked Bucky while still in the air.

“Yep. Known him forever. And you are Stark’s kid?” he asked back.

“So Steve told you. Yes it seems to be true although my whole life I thought he was my big brother. He lied to me so I’m not very happy with him at the moment. Kicking his ass has been a nice change for once.” you smiled at Bucky sadistically.

“You are a sick little thing, doll!” he laughed out loud.

 You landed not much later but you had to admit the crush that had already developed towards Bucky. 

And then Zemo happened and that stupid tape.

Were you the only one wondering why the hell there was a security camera in the middle of nowhere on an abandoned street exactly at that point where your grandparents car was forced to crash? And all that in the early 90’s? 

Tony did not want to think rationally at that point so he started a fight against Steve and Bucky. You stood by. Too in shock to do anything. The only thing you knew was that it was not Bucky’s fault your grandparents had died but hydras. 

You snapped out of your trance when Tony shot Bucky’s arm off. Then it was your moment to jump between your dad and Steve.

“Stop it, dad! Think for one moment!” he was startled for a moment because he wasn’t used to hearing you say that. 

“You know?” he asked and his helmet slid back.

“Yes, I do. I overheard you and Steve the other day.” you spoke silently. “Sorry I did not talk about this with you earlier but I was just so upset about the fact that you didn’t tell me. Am I such a disappointment that you thought I wasn’t good enough to be your daughter?” you asked him with tears in your eyes.

“What? Of course not! You, Y/N, are the best thing that has ever happened to me. It was me who felt not man enough to be your dad. In the beginning when you suddenly appeared on my doorstep I panicked and thought I could have never lived up to the responsibility of a father. So I became your fun big brother to save you and me from disappointment. At some point I just felt that I had missed the point of telling you without the fear of consequences. So I stuck with the lie. I never meant to hurt you and I hope you can forgive me. I love you so much.” 

That explanation was enough for you to jump into your fathers arms and hug him close. 

“I love you 3000, dad. And can we now please get out of here? Bucky doesn’t deserve to die. Can you maybe see that he was controlled and hates himself as much for what Hydra made him do as you hate him? He is actually a really nice guy and like a brother to Steve and you know Steve, would he have bad friends? Also Buck needs help, physical and psychological. So please dad let us help him. He’s a war hero after all.” you finished your plaidoyer.  

Your dad just stared at you but in the end took a deep breath and said: “let’s get home. I can’t do anything here.”

Outside you met King T’Challa who was holding Zemo in his grasp. He was gonna bring him to the CIA and then fly home to bury his father. He also promised to help with Bucky’s recovery because Wakanda had the most advanced technology to heal anything. 

For months you stayed in Wakanda, which was pretty beautiful by the way, to maybe help Bucky recover step by step. 

That’s also how you became close. You went for walks and to his therapy sessions together. The latter also because you thought you could use some talking about your life too. 

At first he had wanted to go back into cryo but you had convinced him that that wasn’t necessary. In the beginning your dad had called you everyday to check in but he had stopped after a particularly annoyed outburst on your side. 

“Bucky you alright?” you asked him one night after he had come home from his private session with Ayo.

When you saw his face you noticed the big tears leaking down his face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you asked scared this time.

Without saying a word he just walked up to you hugging you close to his chest and kissing you intently. 

“You know how much I love you, right?” he whispered.

“Of course. but what happened with Ayo that has you this shaken?” you were persistent.

“I’m free, baby. She said all the trigger words and nothing happened. I’m free.” he repeated as if not believing it himself yet.

You started crying, too at that moment. You knew how much that meant to him, hell how much it meant to you. He had full control of his life back. 

“I’m so proud of you babe. You deserve this so much. The past is finally behind you and we can start into a new future.”

“I love you.” he whispered into your hair and started kissing down your neck.

“Oh, okay. So that’s where you are going. Hmm, I like that. But let’s go inside first.”

You pushed him backwards until you reached the hut and inside your bed. You pushed him down and straddled his lap. He grabbed the seams of your blouse and tore it down the middle so the buttons flew in every direction. 

“Someone is needy, hm?” you whispered while grinding down on his boner. 

“Need you so bad.” he murmured 

“You know I would give you everything. Come and take what you want. I swear I won’t break.” you kissed him intensely again before he threw you around and you landed with your back on the mattress. 

The next thing he did was rid you both of your clothing. The look on his face was absolutely feral. 

“Need to breed you baby. Fuck a baby in you.” he groaned and your pussy clenched around nothing.

“Gotta prepare you first.” he slurred just as he pushed a finger into your dripping wet cunt.

And the moment his tongue touched your aching clit you came with a cry. But he didn’t stop there. No. He kept on flicking your nub with his tongue and added a second finger to stretch your walls for his girth.

“Getting you nice and wet, baby.” he moaned. When he hit that particular spot you arched your back and pushed your pussy further into his face. It didn’t take long for you to come again. You drenched his face in your juices which he happily licked off of his face.

He climbed up your body and on the way nipped at your breasts and left hickies on your neck. 

“I can’t hold on any longer. Gotta be inside you.” those words were the last warning before he breached your entrance and pushed his massive length inside your tight channel.

“Oh, fuck Bucky. So big. Shit.” you moaned loudly which seemed to spur him on.

He pummeled into you with all the force he could muster.

His blissed out face was all you ever wanted to see again.

His rhythm got erratic. You put your hand in his hair and coaxed him “Let go baby. We’ll be fine. I love you so much.” 

That was all it took for him to lose it and he spilled deep inside you.

He collapsed on top of you and then rolled to the side, not to crush you. You winced when he pulled out.

“That was amazing.” you breathed out. “Yeah. Best sex I ever had.” he agreed. 

You two lovebirds spent 6 more weeks in Wakanda. Then Bucky got his vibranium arm and you left Wakanda to go back to New York. No matter what you told yourself, you did miss your dad. 

But you definitely promised to come back every time you got the chance. 

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 14

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Going to Florida on vacation also seemed to be the perfect time to find out where the other boys came from and their pasts. 

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning(s): The boys share their pasts, which can be rough. Mentions of suicide, past abuse, PTSD. There’s also quite some drinking in this chapter.

“He’s fine. Just a little bit too much sun.” You chuckled in a whisper, tucking Jin under the blanket. With that, you exited the room with the 6 others. The oldest had felt a little faint after playing in the sun, which led to his current state.

“We should-”

RINGGGGGGG

“Ugh, one minute.” Jimin took his phone out of his pocket, walking away to answer his call. You and Jungkook looked at each other, shrugging. You headed to the living room, with you draping your legs over Hoseok to watch television, not that Hoseok minded.

“Jin hyung is asleep... That means his snacks are unguarded!” Jungkook shot up from the couch, running to the pantry.

“Nothing stand between him and food.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow. Namjoon shook his head and chuckled, bidding all of you goodbye before leaving with a book tucked under his arm.

“What’s for dinner?” Yoongi asked.

“I think steak and pasta.” Jungkook said, mouth stuffed to the brim with cookies. The staff that worked here had the same schedule as those back in Korea.

“What shall we do tonight?”

“I don’t know. We should stay in on our first night. To just... chill.” Hoseok shrugged and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Even when we put a vacation notice out, work doesn’t seem to stop coming.” Jimin stormed in, complaining. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at his best friend, shifting to let him sit on the couch.

“That’s what you get for opening a new place 2 weeks before the vacation. And a big place, with a lot of manpower needed.” Jungkook scoffed. Jimin sighed, full of regret. He had opened a new male host lounge for ladies 2 weeks ago and safe to say, the business was booming. His phone was ringing non-stop from wanting business partners.

“I’ll just leave it to the others to handle.” Jimin said.

“Yeah, put the phone away. You’re here to relax.” You put your hands behind your head.

“I’m guessing you did the same?” Yoongi faced you.

“My family knows I’m on vacation. There’s an emergency number if they really need to reach me, which I doubt they will. It’s my last vacation before I have to hear my mother start nagging me again.” You rolled your eyes.

“Nag you?” Taehyung tilted his head.

“My brother’s, her star child, is coming into town with my very pregnant sister-in-law for the birth of her second grandchild.” You explained and the boys all nodded, understanding. At the ball where they met your parents, there was a brief mention of your older brother.

“I was an only child. Never had siblings. Omma was worried that if she had another, he or she would come out sick like me.” Jimin forced a smile.

“I’m sorry, Chim.” You reached over to hold his hand.

“It’s okay. Fortunately, Yoongi hyung was there to break me out of the hospital.” He turned to the older, who was sitting on the adjacent couch, sipping from his red wine glass.

“You broke him out of a hospital?” Your eyes widened. Yoongi let out a long sigh, placing his glass on the table.

“Since she couldn’t figure out the reason why Jimin was always sick, Mrs Park thought the only way to provide Jimin the care he needed was to lock him in a hospital.” He explained. Jimin cleared his throat.

“I first met Yoongi hyung at a martial arts convention. Since I used to train in kendo, omma let me go but I couldn’t participate in the demonstration. When he found out that omma checked me into the hospital, he got me out and brought me to join the family. Even when I was sick, Yoongi hyung and Namjoon hyung took care of me.” Jimin gave a small smile.

“I mean, since we’re telling our family stories, my mother abandoned me when I was younger, at an amusement park. I joined an orphanage after.” Hoseok said.

“Yoongi hyung’s father adopted me to be hyung’s playmate but that was it. We could only see each other during playtime. Other than that, I stayed in the small hut in the backyard.” Hoseok continued.

“It was practically a tool shed with a mattress.” Yoongi said bitterly.

“Yoongi, so your father...”

“He was rich, powerful, as was Namjoon’s father. We had been friends for a long time since our fathers were friends. After our fathers died, we dissolved their associations and formed our own.” Yoongi explained.

“I see... I didn’t know both your fathers were also... in the same line of business.” You tried to speak.

“With the way my father treated Hoseok and my mother, we don’t bring him up. Same with Namjoon.” Yoongi said but there was a warning tone in his voice.

“I-Is it, my turn?” Jungkook lifted his head.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You comforted. Jungkook took a deep breath, shaking his head. If anything, he trusted you and wanted you to know his background.

“I was quite a small kid, so I was generally quite quiet in school. I had one older brother. Mum and dad worked a lot so it was mostly my brother and me. At first, hyung was the best brother I could ever ask for. He took care of me, protected me, everything.” Jungkook gulped.

“Then one day, he started treating me like I was invisible, at school and at home. That progressed to him hitting me and bullying me, hurting me.” He said sadly.

“Jungkook...” Jimin said sadly.

“Namjoon hyung was passing by an alley when my brother almost beat me to death. He brought me to the hospital to get treated. Since then, I’ve been living with him.” Jungkook finished.

“Did your parents come find you?” You asked.

“They never believed me when I told them hyung hurt me. He must have told them I ran away or something since he thinks he left me for dead.” 

“But you’re stronger now.” Taehyung patted Jungkook’s head. Considering Taehyung didn’t start his background story, the others assumed that he already told you about him.

“Dinner is served.” The butler informed, breaking the thick tension in the air from all the heavy conversations. 

“I’ll get the others.” You said, going to head upstairs. The first person you checked on was Jin, he was still fast asleep, which you let him be. Namjoon was standing in the hallways, outside of Jin’s bedroom.

“I heard what the boys told you.” He said. You nodded your head in acknowledgement.

“(y/n), I think you know that with such backgrounds, it’s not all black and white for them. On top of always falling ill, Jimin lived with a fear of being a burden, like how his own mother treated him. Yoongi hyung lives with the guilt of how his father treated Hoseok. He feels the need to make it up to him with his life.” Namjoon started.

“Hoseok is afraid of abandonment. Taehyung dealt with meltdowns, panic attacks, so much trauma. You’ve seen it, he’s still not over what happened to him.”

“And Jungkook, I can’t tell you the number of times I had to stop him from taking his own life. He was afraid of being hurt by the one he loved, just like before.” Namjoon sighed.

“I know, Namjoon. It must have been a lot for you and Yoongi to face, along with your own fears. But look at who you saved. Where would they all be now if you and Yoongi didn’t help them?” You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Everyone comes with their own battle scars. But that’s what makes us human and survivors, right?” You smiled.

“You always know what to say, doc.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Of course. I’m the best, am I not?” You nudged him, making him laugh even more. With that, the two of you headed downstairs to the dining room, where the others were seated around the table. Namjoon sat at the head of the table while you sat between Jungkook and Yoongi.

“Let’s eat.” Namjoon waved for the wait staff to bring in the trays of food and pour the drinks. Even if the dinner was quieter than usual, it wasn’t suffocating. You’ve reached a new level of understanding with the boys. 

“What shall we do tomorrow?” Jimin asked. 

“I wanna go look around the city. If possible. Maybe buy some things for myself.” You shrugged.

“Yes! Shopping! We’ll come too!” Taehyung and Jungkook cheered. You smiled, somehow knowing that it was going to be chaotic with the boys. Hoseok clapped his hands in excitement. 

“What if I wanna go on my own?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“No way! It’s not safe for you to be on your own.” Jungkook shook his head, putting his arms in a cross. 

“Are you saying I am not capable to defending myself?” You asked him with a smirk.

“Ooh, you’ve done it now, Kook.” 

“Yeah, even I don’t go there.” Yoongi decided to join in on the fun of teasing the maknae. Jungkook’s eyes widened when he realised what he did, immediately facing you and rubbing his hands together in an apologetic matter.

“I’m sorry! You are very much capable of defending yourself! Even better than me or anyone else because you’re a strong, independent woman! I would never doubt your strength! Please don’t kill me!” He rambled on. You threw your head back in laughter, reaching over to pat his head. Even the others just looked on in amusement. 

“Alright, let’s stop teasing, Koo.” You said. 

After dinner, everyone was gathered back in the living room, watching some show that was playing on the television. 

“The night is young! We should party!” Hoseok declared. 

"This is not going to end well.” Yoongi clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. It was obvious he had to deal with his drunk brothers multiple times before. 

“I brought drinks and snacks!” Jungkook brought two big trays out, one with different alcoholic drinks and the other filled with snacks, courtesy of Jin’s stash. You took a bottle of beer. Hoseok and Namjoon did the same, clinking bottles with you. Jungkook grabbed some soju.

“Hyung? You want one?” Jungkook offered a filled shot glass to Taehyung. Taehyung, who doesn’t usually drink, shrugged and accepted it. Yoongi stuck to his whiskey like always.

“Honestly didn’t think the drinking was gonna start on our first night here. But I’m not one to complain.” You shrugged. 

“We’re on vacation. It’s always drinking time.” Hoseok said. 

“I agree!” Jungkook grinned. You snorted in response. Jimin decided to have soju with the other two, taking an empty shot glass. Jungkook happily filled it up for him. 

“Hey...” Jin stood at the stairwell. 

“Hey, Jin. How are you feeling?” You asked as you stood up to head to him. Jin gave a small smile and a thumbs up. 

“Are those my snacks?!” His eyes widened as he marched over. 

“Shot?” Jungkook offered as a consolation. Jin glared at the maknae but took the tiny glass, glancing over at you. You shrugged, nodding your head in approval. Hoseok and Taehyung shifted to give Jin space to sit down. Everyone with their drinks, cheered to your first night on vacation, taking a swig. You leaned against Jimin’s side. 

“Do you want dinner, Jin?” 

“Nah, I’m fine with the snacks and drinks.” He waved you off. 

“Alright but if you feel dizzy again, stop and rest. And tomorrow, please remember to hydrate yourself when out.” You lectured. The boys all groaned, even if you were only directing your words at Jin. 

“Now you’re nagging.” Taehyung boxed his ears, whining. You rolled your eyes, reaching to smack him. 

That night, when all the boys retreated to their rooms, passed out drunk, you were in your room spending some alone time. There was a knock on your door and you stood up from your bed, shuffling over to see who it was. 

“Hobi?” You were shocked. 

“C-Can I come in?” He rubbed the back of his neck. You nodded your head, stepping aside for him to enter. 

“Can’t sleep?” You asked softly. 

“Just a lot on my mind.” He admitted with a soft sigh. You sat on your bed, legs dangling off the side. You patted the space beside you and Hoseok gladly accepted, sitting beside you as the moon shined in. 

“Bringing up the past isn’t easy. It opens a lot of scars you thought were healed, memories that you thought was locked away, feelings that you thoughts were gone. It’s okay, Hobi.” You whispered with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around him. Hoseok placed his head on your shoulder. 

“It’s okay.” You comforted. 

“She left me there, all alone. For strangers to take me. And I probably will never know the reason why until the day I die.” He said aimlessly.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Hobi.” You squeezed his hand. 

“Yoongi hyung still feels so guilty for what his father did when he adopted me. But I always think that even if he did treat me badly, I still got to leave the orphanage and meet Yoongi hyung.” 

“And then you met the rest of the boys. Look how inseparable you all are now.” You stroked his head. 

“I also got to meet you.” Hoseok added. 

“I’m just there to clean your cuts and take care of you when you’re sick.” You laughed. 

“That’s not true. You mean a lot to me and everyone else, more than you’d think, (y/n).” Now, it was Hoseok holding your hands, looking into your eyes, his full of honesty and sincerity. 

-

You woke up the next morning, rubbing your temples, feeling the slight effect of the alcohol from the night before. Hoseok was still passed out beside you, sleeping soundly. You got out of bed quietly, washing up before heading downstairs. The house was quiet, signalling that maybe no one else was awake, still sleeping the alcohol off. 

“You’re up?” You nearly jumped when Yoongi appeared, drinking a cup of iced coffee, his hair slightly damp and messy from his shower. 

“Yeah. I need a hangover cure and a coffee.” You went to the kitchen. The maid brought you a cup of water and the small bottle of hangover cure. You downed the bitter liquid following that with water.

“Here.” Yoongi fixed you an iced coffee of your own. 

“Thank you.” You sipped it.

“Hoseok... he’s with you?” Yoongi cleared his throat as he asked. You nodded your head with a hum. 

“Yeah. He came over to talk then we just fell asleep after.” You explained. Yoongi gave a nod, moving to sit out on the deck. You trailed behind him quietly, taking the seat across him. All you heard were the crashing of the waves and the strong wind rustling the trees. 

“I’m part of the reason he’s like that.” Yoongi spoke. 

“Why do you burden yourself with that?” You asked back. Yoongi blinked, seemingly surprised by your words. 

“You know it’s not true, you know that Hobi doesn’t think that, and yet you force yourself to live with the guilt. You know that you’re not like your father, whatever he did to Hobi was out of your control.” You said. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yoongi said with gritted teeth. 

“Exactly, I don’t. But what I see is you feeling sorry for yourself and Hobi being worried about showing his emotions because he doesn’t want you to start feeling guilty again.” 

“He said that?” 

“Not exactly. It’s pretty obvious to a bystander.” You shrugged. 

“Yoongi, I have better things to do than to stand here and taunt you. The only people there were you and Hobi. Will anyone ever understand what each of you went through? I don’t know. You and I both know that Hobi holds whatever happened close to him. But he sees the light, even in a dark situation. If he can do that, I don’t see why you can’t.” You said. 

“I know.” Was all he could reply. 

“I’m going to check on Jin, okay?” You stood up. But you were yanked back by your wrist. Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your middle. 

“I hate that you’re right.” He mumbled. You let out a soft hum, patting the top of his fluffy hair. When Yoongi released you, you looked down at him. 

“You saved so many of them, Yoongs. Give yourself more credit. They all look up to you for a reason.” You laughed. 

“Go check on Jin hyung.” He said, patting your hip. 

“Right on it, sir.” You saluted. That made Yoongi break out into a small smile as he watched you leave. You hummed a random tune as you headed upstairs to see how Jin was doing today. 

“Doc? You’re here.” He slowly opened his eyes, squinting to focus his vision on you. He gave you a sleepy smile. You smiled softly as you nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you placed your hand on his forehead. He wasn’t warm to the touch. 

“How are you feeling?” You whispered. 

“Okay. Sleepy... Hungover.” He chuckled, a little embarrassed. 

“I’d bet. You can come down later to get some hangover cure. Luckily I told the butler to stock the house when we arrived yesterday.” You patted his shoulder, making him laugh. 

“(y/n)!” When you exited Jin’s room, you saw a shirtless Jungkook barreling down the hallway, headed straight for you. You jumped back but he caught you.

“Good morning, Koo.” You said in amusement as he hugged you. He mumbled something in his sleepy stupor. 

“What are you saying? I can’t understand you.” 

“I went to your room to look for you but you weren’t there. I thought Hobi hyung was you but it wasn’t. Why is Hobi hyung in your bed? Where were you? Ugh... I have a headache and I’m hungry.” He rambled. 

“Alright, alright. Slow down. I went to get some coffee to help my hangover and was with Yoongi on the deck. Then I went to check on Jin. Hobi just stayed the night after we talked. I have alka seltzer to help your hangover and I think the chefs are cooking hangover soup for all of us. Would you also please put on a shirt?” You answered all his questions, ending with one of yours. 

“I’m sleepy.” 

“I thought you were hungry?”

“I don’t know! My head hurts.” He whined. You sighed, patting his back as you led him back to his room. 

“You stay here. I’ll bring you a hangover cure then you can see how you feel after that.” You instructed. He nodded his head like an obedient child. You went downstairs to get a small bottle and a glass of water.

“Thank you.” He received the two, drinking one after another, cringing slightly at the bitterness. 

“It should help your headache and funny stomach. I’ll go check on the others to see if they need help.” You told him, tucking him back into bed under the blanket. 

“Will you come back?” He held your hand. 

~~

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[hawks-supremacy]

Rubik's Cube of Emotions

Summary: You, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi used to be great friends but then one day it stopped. You and Tsuki are forced to confront each other when your new friend Yachi convinces you to be the new co-managers of the Karasuno volleyball team. (angst, fluff)

warnings: eating disorder, swearing, bullying?

genre: angst to fluff

word count: 2.2k

a/n: day 1 of attempting to write everyday until my birthday. Fun fact: I don't even like Tsukishima that much but my cousin hates him so I wrote it out of spite? Idk I don't like him but I see the appeal.

You were sitting in the library after school trying to do some research when your friend Yachi approached the table you were at. “Hey Y/n I need a favor.” She said sliding into the chair next to you. You closed your books and sighed, “Who is it this time?” You asked, looking at her. She looked at you shocked and started sputtering, “Yachi ninety percent of the favors you need from me are because someone was mean to you and you can’t confront them yourself. I mean last week Rei took your favorite pen and refused to give it back so you had to come get me.”

“Fine, it’s not that anyone was mean but this super pretty girl came up to me and asked me if I wanted to be the new volleyball manager because she graduates next year.” You held your hand up effectively pausing Yachi’s rambling, “Let me pause you right there and let me guess. You panicked, both because a pretty girl was talking to you and because she was your upperclassman and said yes.”

Yachi nodded, “Yes but that’s not all of it.” She said sheepishly, you raised your eyebrows and motioned for her to continue. “I also asked if you could be like a co-manager and she said that that was okay. I know you probably don’t want to but I cannot do this alone. Please come with me, the first practice I’m supposed to attend starts soon.” You rolled your eyes and started packing all of your stuff before starting to walk out of the library. You turned and saw Yachi looking like a kicked puppy, “Yach are you coming or not, you are the one who dragged me into this you big ball of anxiety.” She smiled and grabbed her bag running to catch up to you.

You were near the gym when you saw Kiyoko Shimizu. You assumed she was the pretty 3rd year that Yachi was intimidated by and walked up to her, “Hey Kiyoko? I’m Y/n, the person Yachi volunteered to be the co-manager I guess?” Kiyoko turned after hearing her name and saw you walking up to her with Yachi hiding behind you, “Yes, follow me. I’ll introduce you to the team.” You both followed her into the gym, you walking beside her and Yachi cowering behind you, gripping the sleeve of your jacket.

As Kiyoko opened the doors three boys approached one spouting compliments at her the other asking who you and Yachi were. “Guys these are your potential new managers.” Yachi took a step out from behind you before yelling, “Uhm, my name is Yachi!” You waved at everyone who was gathering around briefly telling them your name. As people were greeting you, you glanced around the gym, stopping at two people, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. You looked at them for a few seconds before moving on to the third year wearing a bun.

He bent down slightly, asking Yachi if she was a first year. You tried no to laugh as she screamed and politely and panicky told him that she was a first year addressing him as if he was more than a third year and then freaking out when the two second years were staring at her. “Forgive her, she's not good with new people, she’s hardly good with people she knows. She’s still scared of me sometimes.” As you finished your sentence Yachi mumbled that she was scared of you because you’re scary.

The third year with the bun turned to Hinata telling him, “This is great now you have managers for next year.” Before Hinata could really say anything Kiyoko stepped in saying nothing was set in stone and that you too just wanted to meet the team. As Yachi said it was nice to meet the team everyone bowed and said “Hello” at the same time, effectively freaking Yachi out. As Kiyoko was telling them to back up and not crowd you both you didn’t notice as Yachi slipped outside, “Sorry for bothering you.” She said and closed the door. “Again sorry, she’ll get used to you I promise. I’ll let you get back to practice.” Everyone said goodbye and dispersed to go do their own thing until practice officially started. As you turned to leave you heard the annoying voice that seemed to follow you everywhere, “Are you really that obsessed with me that you would join the volleyball team somehow. If you really had that big of a crush on me you could just say so.” Turning you saw Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the latter looking at you apologetically. You rolled your eyes, “Yes Tsuki I'm oh so obsessed with you that you consume every waking thought I have. Get over yourself.”

Walking out of the gym you saw Yachi crawling on the ground. You were about to ask her what she was doing when someone interrupted you, “You alright?” He asked. She turned around looking at him for a few seconds before yelling, “Please don’t kill me!” and sprinting away. “Kill you?” He asked mostly to himself. “Sorry about her.” You said to him, you seemed to be apologizing for her a lot today. He jumped, turning around to see you, “Jesus kid you scared the shit out of me don’t do that, nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“We’re the possible new managers for the team. She takes a while to warm up to new people. Also you shouldn’t be worried about a heart attack at your age. Lung failure seems more like it.” You pat him on the shoulder as you went to go find Yachi to sternly talk to her about Tsukishima and Yamaguchi being on the team. Yamaguchi you don’t mind as much, it’s Tsukishima that's the thorn in your ass. It’s not that you hated him, you just well, hated him. He sat behind you in your classes and constantly picked on you. Needed to always tell you that he scored higher on the test or his paper was better than yours. He was just annoying.

You found Yachi by her locker gathering the rest of her things, “Hey Yachi! I need to talk to you.” You said as you jogged up to her, “I don’t think I can do this man, Tsuki is on the team and he is not going to leave me alone if i do this with you.” She put on her jacket and picked up her bag and you two began to walk out of the school to go home, “Please, I can’t do this alone. You said you wanted to spend more time with me anyway. What happened between you two? Weren’t you really good friends with him and Yamaguchi before this year?”

You shrugged looking down at your feet, “He got a stick up his ass I don’t know what you want me to say.” You looked over and her and saw her giving you a disapproving look and you sighed, “Yeah we used to be great friends, best friends even. Then this summer he just started being cold to me. I honestly don’t know what happened and I don’t know if I want to know.” She nodded and was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up, “I get it, I do. But I really need you to do this with me. I might die if you don’t.” You sighed dramatically, throwing your head back, “Fine but you owe me. I may have only known you since the beginning of this year but even I know that you probably would’ve survived.”

It had been a while since you agreed to help Yachi with being the volleyball team manager and so far it had been hell. You ignored Tsukishima when you could but one of his perks and your downfalls of being childhood friends was he knew what buttons to press. Now here you were at some training camp in Tokyo and ignoring him could only do so much. It was the last day and so far you’ve had to deal with him treating you like you had to do everything he said, him loudly and obviously talking about you to Yams, and snide comments about the way you looked or something you did.

The last straw was when you sat down to eat and he made a comment about your weight. You and Yachi were sitting down to eat when Tsukishima walked over with Yamaguchi, “Gee Y/n do you really need all that food?” You didn’t say anything as you looked down at your plate. You didn’t think you got a lot, you got as much as Yachi. You weren’t necessarily insecure but your weight was always something your family commented on, eventually it made you cut back on eating, some days not eating at all in hopes of maybe trying to lose some weight to appease your family. Lately it hasn’t been so bad, Yachi has been helping with it, you were eating more regularly and getting back to normal. But now you feel like you’re back to square one. “Not gonna say anything? That’s a first.”

You set your plate down on the step you were sitting on and told Yachi that you really weren’t that hungry before walking away. As you walked into the gym you were all eating outside of you heard Yachi talking to Tsuki and Yams, nearly yelling. It’s honestly the first time you’ve heard her raise her voice for the first time that wasn’t out of nervousness or anxiety.

You were tossing a stray volleyball in the air when you heard the door open and close. “Yachi I told you I’m not hungry honestly.” You said focusing on the ball not looking at her. “I’m not Yachi and you should eat something.” You sighed as you heard the one voice you probably didn’t want to hear right now, “Do I need to stop eating or do I need to eat? Make up your mind Tsuki.” You caught the ball and turned to face him. He was holding your plate of food and scratching the back of his neck avoiding eye contact, “I uh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, “Is The Tsukishima apologizing? I didn’t know you knew how. You’ve been an ass since this summer and now that you know you hit a soft spot you change? Not happening. Besides, it's not something I go around advertising.” You sat down on the bench and he followed suit setting the plate in between you both. You sat there for a few minutes not saying anything before he cleared his throat, “I really am sorry. You look fine. I’m sorry about being an ass to you this whole time, please eat.”

Narrowing your eyes you looked between him and the food, “If you’re so sorry then why? Huh? Why are you being an ass? I mean one minute we’re all friends and the next you’re rude and dismissive.” He sighed, rubbing his face muttering that it was stupid. “Tsuki it’s not stupid to me, I lost two of my closest friends seemingly overnight with no reason at all. I’ll eat if you tell me what the hell changed.”

He thought for a second leaning on his knees before speaking, “Yamaguchi and I were hanging out one night this summer and you came up in the conversation. After a while Yams made me realize that I maybe like you. I didn’t know how to deal with that so I pushed you away instead and I may have pushed it too far. I’m sorry for everything I just didn’t know how to tell you so I probably handled it in the worst way.”

You paused for a second thinking about what he said before laughing and picking up the plate to start eating. “You aren’t gonna say anything just laugh? See this is why I didn’t want to tell you.” He said standing up. You finished chewing your bite, “Sit down, god you’re so dramatic. I laughed because this all happened because you’re emotionally constipated. Yanno if you told me this once you figured out your rubik's cube of emotions we probably could’ve been dating this whole time.” You didn’t say anything else and finished eating what was on your plate as he sat down with his mouth open gaping at you. “Wait so you like me too?”

You covered your mouth as you tried not to laugh at him, “For someone who constantly pointed out how they were smarter than me for the majority of this school year, you’re pretty fuckin dumb aren’t you.” He pushed you over and told you to shut up. “Oh come on Tsuki, is that anyway to talk to your girlfriend?” You watched as his ears began to turn red and he repeated the word girlfriend in a questioning form. “Unless of course you don’t want me too, then this was all for nothing and we can walk out of the gym like none of this happened.”

“Fine I guess, you’re uh, my girlfriend.” He said, coughing and looking away. You raised your eyebrows and laughed, “God Tsuki don’t sound like I held you at gunpoint. You’re such a tsundere. I guess I’ll deal with it though.” You said as you sighed deeply. He looked offended and pushed you off the bench as you both laughed at each other taking turns making stupid insults about the other person.

Outside the gym Yams and Yachi were all but pressing their ears against the door listening to your conversation, “They definitely confessed.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 16 - Bloody City [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: Threats come closer. 

The room was so silent that you could swear even your heartbeat was audible. You tried to think through the panic running through your veins, but it was nearly impossible.

He wasn’t supposed to find out about that.  

You weren’t a profiler, but you didn’t need to be one to understand how betrayed he felt at the moment. He looked completely frozen, his sharp glare giving you goosebumps.

He had never looked at you like that before, and the anger in his eyes was more than enough to pin you to your spot.

“Spencer,” you managed you say, your voice way too weak, “I can explain.”

Silence.

“I didn’t—“ you stammered, “I didn’t read it. I would never.”

He just kept his gaze on you, raising his brows as if he didn’t believe a word you said and you wetted your lips.

“Where did you find it?”

That managed to draw a reaction from him, at least. He scoffed a dry laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s what you’re asking me right now?” he asked, “It was under the magazines on the coffee table, I thought it was one of mine.”

You cursed under your breath, closing your eyes for a moment. Of course your mother would put it there for you to take a look at it in case you wanted to.

“So?” he said, nodding at the folder lying on the kitchen island, “Do you want to tell me why you have a file on me?”

“It’s not mine.”

The bitter smile on his face was almost amused at your pathetic attempt, and it hit you right at that moment, there was no way you could talk your way out of this. This was what he did for a living, and he could tear your whole list of excuses apart, picking holes in it one by one.

“Try again.”

So people felt exactly like this when he was interrogating them. It was like his whole personality had just changed right in front of your eyes, and you weren’t even sure that you knew this person standing in front of you.

“I mean,” you swallowed thickly, “Okay, it’s technically mine. But I can explain why I have it.”

“You can?”

You pushed your hair behind your ear, your hands restless for some reason.

“The other day,” you started, “After we…. Well, when you were in Ohio, my mom dropped by. She already has a key and well, you’ve met her, she comes and goes as she pleases. I told her not to numerous times, but—“

“That’s not what I asked.”

You nodded, clearing your throat.

“Right, yeah,” you said, wringing your hands, “Um, she has this P.I.”

“You mean your family has a P.I.?” he corrected you, “Philip, you said? It’s not just your mother who uses him, you told me so yourself.”

You cussed at yourself in your head and bit on your lip, “Yeah. Yeah but he—he usually works for my mother. She’s overprotective, especially after my dad she became quite paranoid with the type of people me and Mina date. Anyways, she came here that morning, and she had this file but I didn’t read it,” you shook your head fervently, “I would never.”

He tilted his head, humoring you, “Oh you didn’t read it?”

“No, of course not—“

“Why did you keep it then?”

“I didn’t keep it,” you said, “I had to leave in a hurry so I left my mom here and I swear to you I told her to throw it away. I thought she did, I didn’t see it before just now. I wouldn’t keep it if I knew—“

“Did you know she was going to do it?” he cut you off as if he wasn’t in the mood to listen to your excuses, “Put a P.I. on me?”

You opened your mouth to say no, then the memory of her saying that at the brunch flashed in your mind, making you shut your eyes for a second before looking up at him.

That was enough of an answer for him.

“You knew?” he asked, barely controlling the fury in his voice, “You knew but you didn’t tell me?”

“She mentioned it in passing but I didn’t take her seriously,” you said quickly, “I didn’t think she would actually do it, that’s why I didn’t tell you!”

He let out a humorless laugh and walked to grab his satchel while you stood there, unable to even breathe right as your heart pounded in your ears.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” he said curtly, “I’ll break your heart if I stay here any longer.”

“Spencer please, we need to talk about it—”

“Talk about it?” he repeated, “Why? So that you can give me more bullshit excuses?”

To that, you honestly had nothing to say.

“I would’ve told you whatever you wanted to know about me,” he said through his teeth, his eyes narrowed, “Because I trust you. That’s the difference between you and me.”

You blinked back the tears, digging your fingernails into your clenched fists.

“Have fun reading that,” he motioned at the file in front of you, then walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and tugged at the roots of your hair as you slouched against the kitchen island.

“Fuck.”

                                                         ***

The next three days were an absolute disaster. You couldn’t focus on anything, you checked your phone every minute to see whether he had texted you or called you, but there was nothing. You had no idea what you could do to explain yourself, or at least convince him to hear you out, but you decided to wait until he wasn’t as angry. Maybe then, he would be more willing to listen to you and you would have gathered your thoughts together.

That was the logical thing to do and you knew that, but it didn’t help with the situation at all. You had already missed him way too much and the guilt was basically eating you alive.

You should’ve been more careful. You should’ve checked everywhere, you should’ve at least called your mother to make sure if she had thrown it away but you had done none of that because of multiple distractions. Spencer had a point, you knew it was possible, you even knew your mother had done the same thing with Kenzie and yet you had told him nothing about that.

Until it blew up on your face.

There was absolutely no way he would ever trust you again, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

Your fingers were itching to text him, but you every time the urge hit you, you tried to do anything else but that. You concentrated on work, you accepted a new client, you did anything and everything that could stop yourself from thinking about him, but all of that was in vain.

Mina and Kenzie had invited you for dinner and you had accepted it just so that you could distract yourself and feel less terrible. Around nine, Lily had insisted you to be the one to read her a bedtime story, and that kid could ask for a freaking castle and you would get her that, so of course you had said yes.

“And they lived happily ever after,” you finished the story and pressed a kiss into her hair as she snuggled closer to you. “Time to sleep, bug.”

“I have a question.”

“Hm?” you asked, “What is it?”

“Will we all live happily ever after?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “Certainly.”

“Here?”

You tilted your head, “Here? What does that mean?”

“I heard mommy talking to grandma on the phone about you moving to—“ she scrunched up her nose, trying to find the right word, “Ven…?”

“Venice?” you asked and shook your head, “No sweetheart, I’m not moving anywhere.”

“It’s just that,” she looked up at you, “In the stories, they go away sometimes right? I thought since you found your prince—“

“You don’t need someone to live happily ever after Lily,” you said, “And in this case, I don’t need to move somewhere else to live happily ever after. Besides, things are complicated with my prince nowadays.”

“So you’re not moving away?”

“I’m not.”

She gave you a toothless smile, “Yay!” she said, “I would miss you.”

“I’d miss you too bug,” you kissed her hair, “So much. But now that we both know I’m staying here, you need to go to sleep, we had a deal.”

“Fine, fine…” she heaved a dramatic sight and you turned off the lamp by her bed, getting up from the bed. “Good night!”

“Sweet dreams, bug,” you closed the door behind you and made your way to the living room where Mina and Kenzie were still sitting by the table, drinking wine.

“Thank you so much,” Kenzie said and you waved a hand in the air as you sat down.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing your wine glass, “Mina, she asked me if I was moving to Venice.”

Mina frowned, “What?”

“Yeah, she heard you talk to mom on the phone,” you muttered, “Is that still going on? I thought we put that behind us, I’m not leaving.”

She heaved a sigh, “You know how mom gets, she’s just worried.”

“Have you talked to Spencer yet?” Kenzie asked and you took a huge sip of your wine, shrugging your shoulders.

“He knows where I am.”

“I take that as a no.” Kenzie said and you scoffed a bitter laugh.

“If he wants to break up with me, he can pick the time.”

Mina’s head shot up, “Y/N…”

“Come on,” you forced yourself to say and downed your wine before tilting your glass towards Kenzie, “You guys know how it goes. Experience talking.”

Kenzie filled your glass, “Listen, I can tell you right now that finding that out was a shock, yes. I felt betrayed, also yes. But after a couple of days, the anger subsided. When we broke up, it was— it was just my anger calling the shots.”

Mina nodded slowly, “Yeah, and then we talked and solved it.”

“Exactly!” Kenzie snapped her fingers, “Besides, after the first argument… I went to my apartment and after I calmed down I had to question whether I wanted to lose Mina over that.”

You shook your head, “It’s different.”

“How?”

“You weren’t there,” you lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke, “You didn’t see the way how he looked at me after that. Something inside him shifted and I don’t know how to change that, or fix that.”

Mina and Kenzie exchanged glances.

“I don’t think he will ever trust me again,” you managed to say, turning the cigarette between your fingers, “That is if he talks to me again. I think he might just call it quits over the phone to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything after this point, after what happened.”

“Y/N, I saw you two together even before you started dating,” Mina said, “This is not the end. It’s just some stupid obstacle in the way, that’s it.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes but you blinked them back.

“I’ve never-” you trailed off, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know? And if I lose this, lose him, I don’t know…” your voice cracked but you cleared your throat and took a sip of your wine again, “I have no idea what to do.”

Kenzie nibbled on her lip,

“You won’t have to, just—“ she started but was cut off when your phone started vibrating on the table. You lowered your glances to check the caller I.D flashing on the screen, then gasped, jumping on your feet.

Spencer.

“Excuse me,” you said and snatched the phone off the table to walk to Mina’s study, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You hoped that it was a good sign that he was calling you, instead of just ending your relationship via text and you closed the door behind you, then answered the phone.

“Hi,” your voice sounded way too squeaky even to your own ears and you shut your eyes for a moment, making a face.

“Hey,” he greeted you and you bit down on your lip, pushing your hair behind your ear as you walked in the study.

“How—um, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he said slowly, “How about you?”

“About the same,” you answered, “I was just thinking about you actually. I wanted to call you, but…”

“But you didn’t?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders,

“I figured you might need some time away from,” you thought for a moment, trying to smile, “Well, away from me, I guess.”

He fell silent for a moment before he cleared his throat,

“Listen,” he said, “I just called to let you know that we— the team and I, I mean, we’re flying to Illinois in fifteen.”

Your head shot up, “Oh? There’s a new case?”

“Might be related to this one, we will see when we get there,” he said, “I just figured you’d…I don’t know, you’d want to know where I was.”

Even when you were quite possibly in the worst terms, he still wanted to make sure you knew about what was happening and that thought alone was enough to make you smile.

“Yeah absolutely,” you said, “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Sure thing.”

There was a pause before he took a deep breath.

“Anyway, yeah. That’s why I called. I’ll see you later—“

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, “Before you hang up, I want to say that I get why you’re upset, I really do. You have every right to be, but I was hoping…” you bit at your fingernail, “Maybe we can talk after you come back? Would that be possible?”

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, “Sure, that sounds good.”

“Yeah?” you let out a relieved breath, “Okay, great. Be careful out there, please?”

You could almost hear his small smile, “You too,” he said and hung up, making you let out a squeal and you sat down on the couch, pressing a hand over your chest.

You didn’t know it back then, but the next time you would see Spencer, it would be under very, very different circumstances.

And it definitely would not look like what you hoped it would.

                                              ***

Even though Mina and Kenzie insisted you to stay over for the night, you told them you had an important appointment the next morning. It wasn’t a lie either, you had been handling Vincent’s wedding’s possible venues since last week and finally you had narrowed it down to three, so you would be visiting those venues with him and his husband.

But that whole morning started very strange.

For starters, you hadn’t even heard your alarm go off, which was unusual, because that had never happened to you before. By the time you woke up, you had a terrible headache as if someone had hit your head with a baseball bat but you hadn’t even drunk that much last night. It felt way too difficult to even open your eyes, and your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you forced yourself to sit up in the bed.

Where was your phone?

The wind coming from the open window moved the curtain and you frowned, trying to remember when you had opened the window before a shudder ran down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

Spencer would’ve had some scientific explanation for it you were sure, but for you, it went deeper than that. It was your instincts, warning you that something was wrong.

Something in here didn’t feel right.

And every single cell in your body made sure you knew that.

Trying to make as little noise as you could, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, blinking to get rid of the blurriness in your sight and looked around in the room for any potential weapons, then grabbed the nail file on the vanity before you opened the door. You peeked around the hall, but as soon as your gaze fell on the front door, you felt the goosebumps rising on your arms.

The front door wasn’t closed properly, and you were sure that you had closed it last night.

Your heart started pounding in your head but you stepped out of your room, still holding the nail file tightly just in case there was a sudden movement. You took another step, trying to fix your breathing but you happened to inhale deeply for a second, and that’s when you took the scent.

You smelt it before you could even see it, the bile climbing up your throat almost automatically.

Metallic and sweet.

Blood and jasmines.

You slowly lowered your glances to the floor connecting the hall to the living room to follow the small flowers of jasmines soaked in the red river of blood, leading behind the kitchen island. There were sirens going off in your head, screaming at you to run away but you took a deep breath, your whole body shaking as you stepped around the kitchen island, the warm blood soaking your feet before your eyes found the body lying completely still on the floor.

The nail file slipped from your closed fist as you stared at your ex-boyfriend Anthony, his eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, his hair and clothes drenched in his own blood.

The shock only lasted for one second.

Then a scream ripped itself from your throat.

Chapter 17