#I just sat there with nothing in my mind. for Hours.

[sloaneispunk]

“friend or foe”

soft!frontman (hwang in-ho) x you

when frontman joined the games, he thought it was solely to see gihun fail, but his intentions shifted when a certain player number 455 caught his attention…

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part one

after the first round of voting, half of the room was left speechless, how could majority have voted to stay? the games were inhumane and above the top, was the money worth it anymore?

you headed up back to your bed where you could see everything clearer. the ‘o’s cheering loudly while the ‘x’s stood still as the air hung heavily upon them. then, you saw the player that had caused the majority to overule the ‘x’s… player 001.

he was a tall middle aged man with astonishing features. his hair somehow still styled neatly on his head, leaving only a few strands out of place. his lips curled into a small smirk as he walked past the crowd and seemingly back towards the bunk beds.

you must have been staring for too long because 001 suddenly halted, causing you to lean further down to see what had caused him to stop in his tracks. suddenly, his head snapped up, looking right up at you with that same expression on his face.

‘shit’ you cursed as you threw yourself back onto the bed, back hitting the cold mattress within seconds.

suddenly, a face appeared at the side of your bed, causing you to let out a scream as your hands flew to your mouth, shufflig towards the other end of the bed.

“hi there.”

there he stood, right there at the other end of your bed. player 001’s brown eyes looked so innocently into your own, he now had a bigger, more geniune smile on his face as he waited for a reply.

“you scared me.” you breathed out, still not moving from the edge.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to. i noticed you were alone earlier, i hope you don’t mind if i join you since we’re both by ourselves in here.” 001 said with a calm and gentle voice.

“uh.. yeah-”

“i apologise if i’m being too pushy, i just thought a young, pretty girl like you being here alone could be risky. i wanted to make sure that you were alright.” he interrupted. “my name is young-il.”

he stretched out his hand towards you, waiting for your hand in to shake his.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you.” you replied, still skeptical, but nevertheless you showed your appreciation with a handshake.

oh, right then and there. with your hand in his, the frontman in disguise was heating up. he craved so much more then merely your hand in his. he wanted to touch every part of you, leaving nothing that he had not savoured.

he was brought back into reality when you pulled your hand back, staring at him, waiting for the charismatic man to say yet another inviting sentence to draw you in more.

“i’m afraid i didn’t notice you during the first game.” young-il said.

you shifted on the bed, moving towards the headrest as you beckoned him to the empty space in front of you which he gladly complied.

“during red light, green light?” you asked and he nodded. “i was at the front, guess i didn’t want to take the risk of lagging behind.”

“you must have completed the game pretty fast then.” he stated.

“i had a few minutes left, i spent it trying to help those who were falling behind.” you shrugged.

there it was. that kindess, that compassion. it was exactly what he was looking for. right now he was the big bad wolf licking his lips as he sat watching his prey.

“you have a kind heart, y/n. how did a girl like you end up in this place?”

“just mixed around with the wrong people i guess, i plan to start a new when i get out of here.” you said, full of hope, making him grin.

the two of you spent the night talking, getting closer with every hour that passed. the more young-il talked to you, the more he felt the need to dive deeper, there was so much he wanted, no, needed to know about you. all he needed was time to earn your trust and he would have everything in his control. when you had fallen asleep, young-il checked the surroundings, ensuring that everyone was fast asleep before he walked up towards the masked guards.

“make sure every single one of you nutjobs get this message. whatever you do, do not hurt player 455. if i find a single scratch on her, i will kill you all myself. is that clear?” young-il whispered but was still somehow stern enough for the guards to be taken aback with fear.

things were starting to change with the frontman’s plan, but he could adapt to change right?

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part two

the next day you were awoken by the cheerful song being played on the speakers.

“good sleep? you dosed off halfway during our talk last night.” young-il, chuckled, sitting on the edge of your bed, extending his hand out for you to take.

“were you here all night? my god, you should’ve went back to your bed! you didn’t sleep?!” you scolded as you took his hand.

he let out a laugh and helped you onto your feet.

“it’s no worries, y/n, i wasn’t tired.”

“so you watched me like a creep while i slept?”

“i- y-yeah, no! i mean n-no-”

“i’m kidding.” you cut the poor man off, “thank you.”

“yeah, of course.” he replied. “c’mon, let’s see what game we’re playing today.”

“ladies and gentleman, please follow in an orderly fashion to your next game.”

as you and young-il followed the crowd into the colorful, long, windy staircase.

“what if the next game is difficult, young-il?” you asked, following behind as he kept you close even when walking.

“hey, it’s okay, nothing will happen to us. i’ll make sure of it.” he smiled, pausing in his steps momentarily for you to walk beside him.

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part three

when you entered the room, you realised it was much smaller than the room for ‘red light, green light’. this one however, had two large rainbow circles on the floor and 5 tables spaced equally around.

“this game will be played in groups of 5, the game will commence in 10 minutes.”

your eyes shot to young-il. before you could say anything, 3 men came up to you and young-il. “hey man, would you want to join our group?”

3 men stood behind young-il, player 390, player 388 and player 456.

“why not? me and y/n can-”

“oh… we were looking for a team of men.. i’m sorry but your friend can’t join us.” player 390 interrupted.

“no.” young-il said sternly. he wasted no time arguing and instead took your hand and walked away.

after searching for other groups that would take you both in, you realised it was useless. no one really wanted a girl in their group and you couldn’t blame them. you stopped and sighed, causing young-il to turn around.

“young-il, it’s useless. you should join them. i’ll find others, we don’t have time.” you sighed, beckoning him to leave before time ran out for the both of you.

“no. i can’t garuntee your safety that way.”

“you don’t have to. it’ll be fine i’ll see you when the game is over.”

“c’mon, y/n i-”

“miss?” a voice said from behind you. “we need one more person for our team, would you want to join us?”

it was a sweet old lady, behind her stood 2 girls, player 120 and player 095.

“mom did you find someone?” a man jogged towards the old woman. “oh great, okay just in time.”

“come dear, who says women can’t win this stupid game.” she grumbled, taking your hand and leading you towards her group.

“i’ll be fine.” you smiled, leaving young-il standing alone with worry in his eyes. with much hesistation, young-il let you go, joining the team of men without you.

“you, hey! come join us! let’s win this!” player 456 cheered, inviting young-il back into the group.

“time is up, please sit down in your groups… this is a six legged race where you will have to complete 5 mini games individually while being chained to each other. the games played will be ddakji, flying stone, gonggi, spinning top and jegi. please order yourself in which you will be playing the games in.”

a sense of unease set in in young-il. he searched the room to find you. even if he was worried, he couldn’t show it on the outside, it would be too risky for you and for him. he remained calm as he scanned the room for you, eyes eventually landing on your face from across the room.

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part four

“we’re lucky we have many girls in this team! which games are you familiar with?” the old lady asked, looking at you.

“oh i’m not really sure, why don’t you guys pick first?” you replied embarrassed, an awkward smile plastered on your face.

as the others discussed which game they were going to play you looked around, searching for young-il once more. when you finally spotted him at the far end, you gave him a small smile and a wave, seeing how he was already looking at you.

“so i’ll play ddakji, your son will play flying stone, ma’am you’ll play gongi, ms 455 will play spinning top and ms 120 you will play jengi. is that alright?” player 095 said, looking around for approval from the group.

when the game started, your team was the first. you took your place on the rainbow with your team, all equally as nervous as you were.

“hey we’re gonna be okay, we’ll win easily.” you said offering a smile to the team.

“yes! we can do it ladies! oh and you too son.” the old lady said.

a gunshot fired in the air, indicating the start of the game.

“hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!” every grunted in synchronicity, moving rather quickly to the first station.

the other players were up on their feet, following around the circle as they cheered.

1. ddakji

player 095 closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

piak!

the sound of the paper slapping on the ground echoed through the room, she opened her eyes and looked down. it flipped.

“first try! let’s go!” player 120 cheered.

“pass”

“hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!”

2. flying stone

“son, just imagine. that rock is the face of the dealer that screwed you over.” the old lady said to her son making the rest of you snicker.

“you son of a bitch! give me my money back!” the man yelled as he threw the rock. without even trying, he managed to hit the other rock down.

“pass”

“holy shit! you did it!” you exclaimed. “let’s go! quick!” you exclaimed practically jumping in place.

hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!

3. gonggi

“come, come! sit down everyone, i need to concentrate.” the old lady said.

she picked up the first few pieces with ease, but couldn’t catch the last one causing her to start over.

that must have struck a nerve because every try after that was not a sucess.

“mom. you said you played gonggi with bullets in the korean war, you can do it.” her son said. “picture it as dad’s face-”

“you imbecile!” she yelled as she picked all the pieces up again, putting them down and picking them up once more with ease.

“pass”

4. spinning top

young-il cheered like the rest, maybe even more. he was holding his breath with every step you took. even as the frontman, he wasn’t sure why he was anxious for a player like you to win. it was very unlike him but he had to admit it felt good.

he watched as you coiled the rope around the spinning top. he could see your hands shaking as everyone’s eyes burned holes into you.

with two minutes left on the clock you trusted your instincts and drew your hand back, carefully flicking your wrist. the spinning top flew through the air, with a soft bang it landed on the ground, spinning perfectly.

“pass”

“she did it!” young-il shouted, causing a roar of cheers to erupt as your team moved towards the last and final game.

hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!

5. jegi

“can everyone look away? i just need some concentration.” player 120 asked. everyone including your team turned to look away, even with the time left, you were shaking with fear. one wrong move and you could leave this game as easy as you came in.

everyone remained quiet as you listened for the sound of the shoe and jegi coming into contact.

“one.”

“two.”

“three.”

“four.”

“five.”

“oh! we did it! that was five!” the old woman shouted.

you looked up seeing the guard makinga circle up with his arms.

“pass”

“let’s go! let’s go!”

with that, your team was let go. relief overwhelmed you as you passed the finish line. as the guards unchained your legs, you turned to the crowd finding young-il easily.

you offered him a smile and a little wave, making him do the same.

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part five

when it was young-il’s turn his team took place at the start of the line.

“well, it’s a little sad that we don’t have an audience.” player 390 sighed.

“no, it’s good. we don’t have distractions.” player 388 replied.

throughout the game, there was one thing on young-il’s mind, getting back to you. he couldn’t wait for another of your late night conversations. the stupid smile you had when he cracked a horrible joke.

he knew that the game was designed so that there couldn’t be many mistakes made each round. when he joined it was merely for the thrill of it, also the fact that he wanted to see player 456 suffer. but now he knew he had to play the games thoroughly and right, he knew he had to do this to keep his promise to endure your safety.

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part six

you waited anxiously on your bed as more groups came in, but not young-il. it was nerve wrecking, with every group that came in, somehow the number of player became lesser. it was made clear that not everyone was made to pass.

a few minutes later, the metal door swung open again.

the final group walked in, player 456, player 388, player 390, another player you hadn’t seen before player 222 and young-il.

young-il didn’t waste any time, he jogged back to your bed, seeing your smile widen as he came close. before he had the chance to say anything, you pulled him into a hug, wrapping your hands around his neck tightly as he bent down onto your bed.

“oh my god, you did it! i was so scared, i-i was so worried-”

“hey, it’s okay. it’s okay, i was worried sick too.” he chuckled, taking a seat beside you on the bed.

“i thought the team didn’t want a girl? how did she manage to get in?” you asked, pointing to player 222 who was now with the rest, talking and laughing.

“she was heavily pregnant. we didn’t have a choice, i’m so sorry they didn’t take you in.” he apologised as you shook your head.

“it’s okay, i understand. don’t worry. i’m just glad you made it.” you said, leaning so close that you could feel his bodyheat.

“you know… when i was playing the spinningtop, i couldn’t for the life of me figure out how you did it in one try!”

“of course, an old man like you comparing yourself to me?” you gasped sarcastically, making him laugh.

“yea right, come on says the one who’s almost lying on me.”

you jerked back, you hadn’t even noticed.

“i’m so sorry, are you uncomfortable? i can mov-”

“hey, i’m playing around. come back, you can do whatever you want. i’m just a makeshift pillow for you.”

you sneered and laid your head on his shoulder, legs tangled together on the bed as you could feel the rhythm of his breathing match yours.

“thank you, young-il.” you whispered, your hand finding his, squeezing it to show your appreciation.

young-il looked down to your hand in his and raised it to his lips, giving it a gentle peck. “anytime, y/n.”

whethere he liked it or not, the game had hit a big obstacle. as the frontman he needed to balance between running the games and keeping it safe for you, and preventing player 456 from infiltrating.

even so, he knew the dangers of the next game. ‘mingle’ was one set out to kill, his plans were all falling apart. frontman realised that keeping you came with a cost, and it was one he was willing to pay.

[scoupsakakitty]

Hi!! I have an idea for Jeonghan. You know The8's song Cold love. (It's my favorite).

The idea is this. The reader has a crush on him, even tho there in the same group (pls idol au), But he's cold, and distant to her/them.

It can be either a fluffy or angsty ending, with her leaving the group of them ending up together.

The reader can be Gn, or female I don't mind any.

I Love your writing, it brings me comfort 🫶

Cold Love | idol!Jeonghan x 14thmember!Reader | angst, fluff

The sun dipped behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The secluded cabin where Seventeen had gathered felt warm and lively, but to Y/N, it felt anything but.

She sat on the wooden deck, looking out at the calm lake that stretched before her. It was supposed to be a relaxing trip a short break before Jeonghan left for the military in a few months. Everyone had been excited about it, especially since they hadn’t had much downtime lately. But for Y/N, this trip had been nothing but painful.

She glanced back toward the large glass windows of the cabin. The rest of the group was inside, laughing and playing games, but her eyes were fixed on one person Jeonghan. He was sitting at the dining table, smiling at something Mingyu said. That smile was the reason she had fallen for him in the first place. It was soft, warm, and made her feel safe.

But lately, he hadn’t shown that side to her.

Not once.

Instead, he had been cold. Distant. Unkind.

Her chest tightened as she turned back toward the lake, hugging her knees. She wanted to believe there was a reason for his behavior some explanation that made sense but she was tired of waiting for answers.

“Y/N?”

She flinched at the sound of her name and quickly wiped at her eyes before turning to see Joshua approaching her.

“You okay?” he asked, crouching beside her.

“Yeah,” she lied.

Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because you’ve been out here for almost an hour, and you missed dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Not hungry, or avoiding someone?” Joshua’s voice was gentle, but his words hit her hard.

She didn’t answer.

“You know,” he said, sitting down next to her, “whatever’s going on between you and Jeonghan, you should talk to him about it. The tension’s so thick it’s making the rest of us uncomfortable.”

Y/N let out a humorless laugh. “There is no ‘me and Jeonghan.’ He made that very clear.”

Joshua hesitated before speaking again. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Then why does he act like I don’t exist?” Her voice cracked.

Joshua frowned but didn’t push any further. Instead, he stood and offered her a hand. “Come inside. It’s getting cold.”

She took his hand and let him pull her up, but her heart sank as she caught Jeonghan’s gaze through the window. For just a moment, something flashed in his eyes worry? Pain? But then, just as quickly, his expression hardened, and he looked away.

————————————————————————————-

Dinner had ended, and the group gathered in the living room for games. Y/N sat quietly in the corner, barely paying attention as the others laughed and teased each other. She tried to join in, but her mind kept drifting back to Jeonghan.

It wasn’t fair. She had poured her heart out to him months ago, told him how she felt. And he had rejected her not with words, but with silence and distance.

It hurt more than she ever thought it could.

“Y/N, it’s your turn,” Seungkwan said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She blinked. “What?”

“We’re playing charades. Your turn.”

“Oh… okay.”

She stood awkwardly, trying to focus, but the pressure of everyone’s eyes on her and Jeonghan sitting just across the room made her panic.

“I can’t. Sorry.” She quickly sat down again, her cheeks burning.

“Are you okay?” Seungkwan asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said, but the tears threatening to spill told a different story.

Jeonghan shifted in his seat, his fists clenched. He wanted to say something to do something but he couldn’t. The management’s warning echoed in his head. No relationships. No scandals. If he stepped out of line, she could be kicked out of the group.

But seeing her like this, breaking apart because of him, was unbearable.

“Y/N.” His voice was sharp.

She froze, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Can I talk to you? Outside?”

The room fell silent, everyone’s eyes darting between the two of them.

“No,” Y/N snapped.

Jeonghan flinched. “Y/N—”

“No!” She stood up, her voice rising. “You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to ignore me, push me away, and then suddenly decide you want to talk when it’s convenient for you!”

The other members stared in shock as her voice cracked with emotion.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me?” she cried. “You know how I feel, and you couldn’t even be kind to me. If you don’t like me, fine! But at least treat me like a human being!”

Jeonghan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Forget it,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. She turned and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.

————————————————————————————-

The night was quiet, but Jeonghan couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as her words replayed in his head.

You don’t get to do this.

Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me?

If you don’t like me, fine!

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t let her believe that. He couldn’t let her go to sleep thinking she wasn’t loved because she was. More than anything.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he left his room and walked to hers.

He hesitated at the door, hearing her muffled sobs. His heart shattered.

Knock. Knock.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “It’s me.”

There was no response.

“Please,” he whispered. “Let me in.”

After a long pause, the door opened.

Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked exhausted.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I need to explain,” he said. “Please.”

She stepped aside, and he walked in, closing the door behind him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“I don’t hate you,” Jeonghan finally said. “I never have.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “Then why?”

“Because I was scared.” His voice was raw. “The management they told me that if we got involved, they’d kick you out of the group. And I couldn’t risk that. Not for me, and not for you.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “So instead, you decided to treat me like I didn’t matter?”

“I thought it would be easier,” he admitted. “I thought pushing you away would protect both of us. But all I’ve done is hurt you—and I hate myself for it.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said softly. “I always have.”

Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward and kissed him.

Jeonghan froze, shocked, but when she pulled away, embarrassed, he caught her hand.

“Wait.”

He cupped her face and kissed her deeply, pouring everything he felt into that one moment.

When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said. “Together.”

Tears streamed down her face, but this time, they were happy tears.

“Okay,” she whispered.

————————————————————————————-

Y/N sat nervously in the practice room, her hands clenched into fists as she faced Seungcheol. He looked at her like she had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“You want to what?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, but there was also concern in his eyes.

“I want to leave the group,” Y/N repeated, this time louder. Her voice still shook, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “It’s the only way.”

“The only way for what?” he demanded, crossing his arms.

“For Jeonghan and me to be together,” she said softly, looking down.

Seungcheol froze. “…What?”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling her chest tighten. “The management said if we get into a relationship, I’ll be kicked out of the group. Not him. Me.”

Seungcheol stared at her, completely silent for a moment. Then he burst out, “And you just accepted that?!”

“What else am I supposed to do, Seungcheol?” she snapped, her voice breaking. “Let them ruin his career? Let them destroy everything he’s worked for? I can’t do that to him!”

“And you think he’d be okay with you giving up your career instead?” he shot back. “Do you think Jeonghan would ever forgive himself if you left because of him?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not leaving. We’re going to fix this.”

“How?”

“Simple,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re going to the management, and we’re going to make it clear that this isn’t happening. You’re staying in Seventeen.”

———————————————————————————-

Y/N sat beside Seungcheol in the cold, sterile meeting room. Her palms were sweaty, and her heart pounded so loudly she was sure the managers could hear it.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” he said as soon as the managers sat down. “We need to talk about Y/N.”

One of the managers raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“This rule you’ve made,” Seungcheol said, his voice sharp. “The one where you’ll kick her out of the group if she dates Jeonghan. It’s ridiculous, and it’s not happening.”

The managers exchanged glances. “We’ve already discussed this with her.”

“And now you’re going to discuss it with me,” Seungcheol shot back. “You don’t get to ruin someone’s career because they fell in love.”

“This isn’t about punishment,” one manager said stiffly. “It’s about protecting the group’s reputation.”

“Reputation?” Seungcheol laughed bitterly. “What reputation? SEVENTEEN’s reputation isn’t built on scandals or dating bans. It’s built on talent, hard work, and loyalty. And you want to throw all of that away by forcing Y/N out?”

Another manager leaned forward. “This is standard in the industry—”

“I don’t care what’s standard,” Seungcheol interrupted. “This group isn’t like the others, and you know that. We’re a family. And you’re asking us to tear apart our family over something as human as love.”

“It’s a risk,” the manager argued.

“So what?” Seungcheol said, his voice rising. “Everything we do is a risk! Going on stage is a risk! Performing live is a risk! But we still do it because we believe in each other. And if you don’t believe in us if you don’t believe in Y/N and Jeonghan then maybe you’re the problem, not them.”

The room went silent.

Finally, one of the managers spoke, their tone colder than before. “If this relationship gets out to the public, there will be consequences. For both of them.”

Seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “Then we’ll handle it. But you’re not forcing her out of this group.”

The managers exchanged looks, clearly unhappy, but after a long pause, one of them sighed. “Fine. But it stays private. And if it ever becomes public, you all know what’s at stake.”

———————————————————————————-

Meanwhile—Dance Practice Room

Jeonghan wiped sweat from his forehead, looking around the room. Something felt… off.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, glancing at the others.

Joshua hesitated, then pulled him aside. “She’s with Seungcheol. At the company office.”

Jeonghan frowned. “Why?”

Joshua bit his lip. “…She’s asking to leave the group.”

Jeonghan froze. “What?”

“She said it’s because of you,” Joshua admitted softly. “Because of what the management said about you two.”

Jeonghan didn’t wait to hear more. He grabbed his jacket and bolted out of the practice room.

———————————————————————————-

Y/N and Seungcheol stepped out of the management’s office, the tension from their earlier discussion still lingering in the air. Y/N’s heart pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from fear. It was from relief.

It was over.

She could stay. She didn’t have to leave Seventeen. She and Jeonghan could be together as long as they kept it private.

But before she could fully process everything, Jeonghan’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“Y/N!”

She froze, her eyes widening as she turned to see him storming toward her.

His face was filled with panic and anger, and the moment he reached her, his voice was sharp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Jeonghan—”

“You can’t leave the group!” he interrupted, his voice trembling. “Not because of me!”

Seungcheol raised his hands, trying to calm the situation. “I’ll give you two a moment,” he said, stepping back. He shot Y/N a reassuring look before walking away.

As soon as Seungcheol disappeared down the hall, Jeonghan turned back to Y/N, his eyes desperate.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why would you do this? Why would you throw away everything we’ve worked for?”

Y/N’s heart ached seeing the pain in his eyes. She reached out, but he stepped back, his fists clenched.

“Jeonghan, stop,” she said softly. “Listen to me.”

“How can I listen to you when you’re trying to leave?” His voice cracked, and for the first time, she saw the fear in his expression.

“I’m not leaving,” Y/N said quickly, grabbing his hands before he could pull away. “I’m staying.”

He froze. “What?”

She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. “Seungcheol and I talked to the management. We convinced them to let me stay. We can be together, but it has to be private.”

Jeonghan stared at her, completely stunned. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

Relief washed over his face, but it was quickly replaced by frustration. “You should have told me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought this was the only way to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Jeonghan stepped closer, his voice softer now. “Y/N, do you really think I’d be okay with you giving up your dream for me? Do you know how much that would’ve destroyed me?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Jeonghan reached out, gently cupping her face. “We’ll figure things out together. You don’t have to fight this alone anymore, okay?”

Y/N nodded, leaning into his touch. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. For everything. For how I treated you before. For making you feel like you weren’t important to me.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain again. I know why you did it.”

“But I shouldn’t have,” Jeonghan said firmly. “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve fought for us from the start.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Jeonghan didn’t let her.

Instead, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

“You’re not leaving me,” he whispered. “Not now. Not ever.”

Y/N melted into his embrace, finally allowing herself to breathe.

“Never,” she whispered back.

————————————————————————————

The group had gathered back at the cabin after practice. Y/N and Jeonghan sat together in the corner, their hands intertwined under the table where no one could see.

Seungcheol watched them from across the room and smiled to himself.

“Thanks, hyung,” Jeonghan said quietly when he caught Seungcheol’s gaze.

Seungcheol just shrugged. “You owe me.”

Jeonghan grinned. “I know.”

Y/N squeezed Jeonghan’s hand, and he turned to her, his expression softening.

They still had a long road ahead of them, but for the first time, they felt ready to face it. Together.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter nineteen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): book accurate voldemort, canonical violence, angst, talks of battle, notions of manipulation and mind control

series masterlist; previous part; next part

The days following Charity Burbage's death were agonising. The atmosphere in the cottage had grown cold and dreary; the novety of living away from home having worn away with every mission that Mattheo, Theo and Enzo were sent on. They did not speak a word of what happened in the meeting beyond when Remus and Mad-Eye had come to collect information only hours after the boys had returned home.

Before the inevitable event of Professor Burbage's death, Voldemort's men had divulged their fellow Death Eater and Dark Lord of vital information that they could use to undermine The Order of The Pheonix. There were spies everywhere, just as Mattheo had told Granger back at school before Dumbledore's death.

It was still sureal that his Head of House was sat in this room with him, despite knowing since fifth year that Snape was not a loyal member of The Order. To hear him discussing a plan that only top members, like Lupin or Shacklebolt, would know, was as strange as it was unnerving. His father sat at the head of the table, the seat to the right of him empty, hairless and snakelike with slits for nostils and gleaming red eyes. His chosen appearance was nightmare fuel and nothing akin to the very few photos that Mattheo had of him, when he was still Tom Riddle, still had some of his soul intact. As far as Mattheo was concerned, this creature before him was not his father, but simply a vessel of power that Mattheo would have to overcome. Somehow.

"Severus, here," said the Dark Lord, his elongated hands gesturing to Mattheo's other side. He sent Yaxley to sit beside Dolohov, who still sported the scars inflicted by your magic. It sent pride shooting through Mattheo's veins. Most eyes at the table followed Snape until he sat, and he was who Voldemort addressed first.

"The Order of The Pheonix intends to move Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday, at nightfall." Snape said in his usual low cadence.

Confusion shot through Mattheo at that and he visibly stiffened before fixing his mask of indifference right back into place. Despite feeding information to The Order, everyone in the cottage, even you, were not privvy to the schemes that its members carried out in response. He had no idea that Harry's location would be compromised. Did that mean that your's could be too?

He didn't let that thought linger for any longer than necessary.

"Saturday. At nightfall." Voldemort's eyes fastened on Snape with such an intensity that Mattheo was surprised when his Professor did not cower away like so many others would. He looked Death calmly in the face, and Voldemort's lip curled into something resembling a smile. "Good. And this information comes-"

"-From the source we discussed." Snape replied. This seemed to satisfy Voldemort who's snake like features swept over everyone in the room with a sinister, knowing look, zeroing in on Yaxley, who looked about ready to burst.

"My Lord." He stuttered. "My Lord. I have heard differently."

The Dark Lord did not respond.

"Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy's birthday. When his magic becomes traceable."

Mattheo looked beside him saw that Severus Snape was smiling as he responded with a level tone.

"My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. Dawlish is suspectible. He was probably placed under a Confundus Charm."

Yaxley's eyes narrowed upon Snape's. "I assure you, My Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain."

The Dark Lord finally turned to acknowledge his son, who was stood off to the side, eyes raking across each member with cruel scrutiny. He motioned for Mattheo to come forward. "What do you think, my son?"

Mattheo studied the faces of his father, Snape and Yaxley, rationalising his thoughts before speaking.

"If Dawlish was indeeded Confunded, naturally he would be certain." Mattheo summised. "The Order would be smart to give the Ministry different dates. They must already suspect that we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"The Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. I assure you, Yaxley." Snape said with a nod.

Voldemort did not ackowledge the conversation, instead his gaze had wandered upward to the body that had appeared during the discussion, revolving slowly overhead, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"My Lord," Yaxley went on, "Dawlish believes an entire party of Aurors will be used to transfer the boy–"

He held up a large white hand, and Yaxley subsided at once, watching resentfully as Voldemort turned back to Snape.

“Where are they going to hide the boy next?”

“At the home of one of the Order members,” he replied. “The place, according to the source, has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry together could provide. I think that there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless, of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest.”

“Well, Yaxley?” Voldemort called down the table, the firelight casting a menacing glint in his red eyes. “Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?”

Yaxley squared his shoulders. “My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have – with difficulty, and after great effort – succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse.”

Theo sucked in a barely discernable breath, and from his place, Mattheo saw how Draco tensed beside his mother. This was all vital information that Remus would be desperate for.

“It is a start,” said Voldemort. “But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way.”

“Yes, my Lord, that is true – but you know, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister himself, but also with the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others, and then they can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down.”

“As long as our friend Thicknesse is not discovered before he has converted the rest,” said Voldemort. “At any rate, it remains unlikely that the Ministry will be mine before next Saturday. If we cannot touch the boy at his destination, then it must be done while he travels.”

“We are at an advantage there, my Lord,” said Yaxley, who seemed determined to receive some portion of approval. It made Mattheo scoff inwardly. No one gained the approval of Voldemort. Not even his only living heir.

“We now have several people planted within the Department of Magical Transport. If Potter Apparates or uses the Floo Network, we shall know immediately.”

“He will not do either,” Snape interupted with a barely hidden sneer. “The Order is eschewing any form of transport that is controlled or regulated by the Ministry; they mistrust everything to do with the place.”

“All the better,” said Voldemort. “He will have to move in the open. Easier to take, by far.”

Again, Voldemort looked up at the slowly revolving body as he went on, “I shall attend to the boy in person. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs.”

The Death Eaters around the table watched Voldemort apprehensively, each of them, by his or her expression, afraid that they might be blamed for Harry Potter's continued existence. Voldemort, however, seemed to be speaking more to himself than to any of them, still addressing the unconscious body above him.

“I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best-laid plans. But I know better now. I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be.”

He moved his hand in a barely there motion and the body broke free of its invisible bonds, hanging precariously over the dinner table.

“My loyal followers," he says with a sadistic grin, his arms outstretched. "I have a special treat for you all. A little...goft of sorts. Do you recognise our guest Severus? Mattheo?"

Mattheo raised his eyes to the upside down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as though they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, “Severus! Help me!”

It was her. The one they were tasked with finding. It was Charity Burbage.

Remus had staggered back when Mattheo finished telling them as much as he could without keeling over from the pain. But the message was clear: the mission to get Harry to Headquarters safely had been thwarted in more ways than they had anticipated; there was evidently a spy in their ranks and Remus couldn't help but think back bitterly to the first time around, his mind filled with the constant 'what ifs' that haunted him with every second that passed without Sirius by his side.

"We need to go forward with the back up plan." Mad Eye said gruffly, his mechanical eye sending shivers down your spine as it zeroed in on you. Mattheo's eyes narrowed, his hand, which rested on your thigh under the table, tightened with anticipation.

"I was under the impression that confusing the dates was the so-called back up plan for whatever it is you lot are scheming." He says, voice low from the excersion of fighting the Dark Mark plastered on his left arm, its curse prowling through his bloodstream like a viper waiting to strike.

"Meadow will be joining us on the mission." Made Eye says, choosing to ignore the seething heir sat opposite him.

Mattheo slams his fist on the table, before he points his finger angrily towards the Auror. "Like hell she is! You heard what I said. They plan to ambush you. She will not be put in harm's way."

"Her power is vital to us. We need her to protect Harry." Mad Eye argues back with equal ferosity, ignoring the way the others around the table watch with wide eys.

"No." Mattheo says with so much finality and malice, making the veins in his neck bulge and the fury in his eyes to ignite. You can feel his anger in your core, and you know nothing will calm him until he gets what he wants.

You make eye contact with Remus, who sits uncomfortably beside his comrade, and drown out the hurls of insults flying out of your boyfriend's mouth as you speak to him.

What will I have to do, if I agree? You ask, brows furrowed with nerves.

You would follow along with the rest of us, disguised as Harry using polyjuice potion. You and six others, so we can confuse the Death Eaters away from the real Harry. Remus tells you and you nod your head in acknowledgment; only Pansy is the one to notice the exchange amongst the shouting match that had transpired between Mattheo and Mad Eye Moody.

"What would Meadow have to do?" she asks, ignoring the way Mattheo's stare cuts through her like a knife. "No one can know that she's the siphon, so how will you protect her while protecting Potter?"

"She won't need protecting because she's not going anywhere." Mattheo seethes at his friend, who merely rolls her eyes at him.

"She is her own person Mattheo. Let Meadow decide for herself." Pansy snaps back, causing Mattheo to pause and turn to you.

You're sat silently, eyes focused only on Remus as he explains the plan in great detail to you. He admires you for a brief moment, drinking in the slope of your nose, the rosiness of your cheeks and the way your lips part in concentration. Mattheo's hand resting gently on your shoulder knocks your focus from your old professor.

"I'll do it." You say, your tone dripping with a certainty that would not be shaken. Mattheo bristles in his place. "Under one condition."

"Anything, Meadow." Remus says softly, his scarred face alight with gratitude.

"Harry cannot know." You say and hold up a hand when Remus tries to interrupt. "He can't. He doesn't trust me. If he sees me there's a high probability that he refuses to leave the Dursleys' home."

"How do you suggest we go about it then?" Mad Eye asks with a frustrated grunt.

"The final safehouse, between Surrey and the Burrow is Headquarters." You say, ignoring the looks from your friends. "The Death Eaters will no doubt suspect that so send me there. Don't send me to the Burrow."

"It's doable." Remus muses with a thoughtful expression.

"There are things in Grimmauld Place that Harry will need. I'll retrieve them for you to give to him at the wedding." you say, brushing your hands off of your trousers before moving to stand.

"You'll be at the wedding, Meadow." Remus says, but the way he's looking at you says he understands your hesitation.

After a moment of silence, Mad Eye is the one to speak.

"Then it's settled. Welcome to your first official induction into the Order Miss Meadow."

~∞~

surprise!!!!! im back baby!!!

a short and (not so?) sweet chapter for you lovely people! im so sorry ive left the story for so long but its a new year, and i have new aspirations that include actually finishing my works (😵‍💫) so more chapters to come!!

fair warning: we're entering deathly hallows territory so its gonna be angst central!!!!!

ive missed matty and meadow so much but i can't wait to do their story justice and im sorry this one was so short but honestly im enjoying building any and all suspense soooo....

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@supersecretsamm @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff

@babeylover @thejadeazalea @nicoleeblossom @adhxmoony

@dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf

@devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj

@nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette

@prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl

@rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost

@weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @rafeycameronsgf

@rainy-darling @faeriepigeons

@lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff

@gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome

@nopedefe @spencerreidsthings

@navs-bhat @agent-tempest

@magimtz23 @y0urm0m12

@sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne

@whatsupb18

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part three)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: adding tutoring to an already packed schedule has gotten overwhelming. there's so much to do, yet not enough time, it seems.

pining (but im not saying who lmaooo), mentions of mental health (panic attacks, anxiety, etc).

notes: hiii. i am addicted to writing for this i fear so don't be surprised if i just keep updating randomly. i've also just started school so this is all in my free time!! but chat...its about to get good af *smiles mischievously*

word count: 1.2k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

You didn’t enjoy this, scrambling for the countless time today to make a meeting. Even more so, you hated the idea of being late to see Ekko, again. He was always so empathetic—understanding. Even if he was upset with you, and you knew he was, he would never make you feel bad about it. He understood things happened. 

It didn’t stop you from speeding into the dining hall and turning to your usual table in a complete frenzy, though. “Ekko, I am so sorry. Time literally got away from me today.” 

He grips a chain he’d been holding, a locket at the top, and pushed it back into his pocket quickly. “It has a way of doing that…time I mean.” 

You sat down, immediately feeling way worse than you already had. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I’m sure you had a reason, right?” 

“Yes,” you sighed. “I was at tutoring with Jayce. We went over vectors and I finally understand it better.” 

His eyes lingered on the table, “Mm.” A hum from him, seemingly half paying attention. 

“Mm?” You mimicked the sound he made, “What’s mm?” 

“It’s just that I definitely could’ve helped you with that…being a STEM major and all…” 

“I know that…of course I know that but-“ 

He cracked a smile, “I’m joking.” 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, the lightheartedness finally returning to you both. “I hate you, truly.” 

“You don’t…and that’s okay! I’m extremely lovable.” 

You nodded sarcastically, “Sure, I’ll let you keep believing that.” You looked around, finally taking in how desolate the dining hall actually was. It was a bit after peak hours now, considering you showed up a bit later than normal. A yawn escaped you, then, the day catching up to you. 

Ekko perked up a bit, “You hungry?” 

You tilted your head, “Always.” 

He turned to grab a paper bag from inside his backpack—pushing it across the table to you. Your order down to the sauces, no tomatoes, extra pickles. 

“Oh my gosh, I love you so much Ekko…you’re actually the best.” 

He watched you inspect the bag, each little detail perfect. There was a glint in your eye; it was rather humorous that it was about food, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

You weren’t looking at him, but he was locked in on you. A genuine and soft look was on his face. “I love you…too.” 

The fries you were eating fully occupied your mind and nothing besides the comfort of your bed could get your mind off of them. Ekko didn’t say much after, letting you eat in silence before offering to walk you back to your place. The sounds of the busy city filled the space between you, him occasionally ushering you ahead with a soft nudge. Neither of you spoke until you were outside your door. 

You leaned in for a hug, “Thank you…I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” He hugged you back, leaning his head into yours, inhaling deeply. “Tomorrow.” 

“On time,” You pulled away, “I promise.” 

His hands found his pockets, nodding simply. “On time.” 

Exhaustion was creeping up on you. At this point, you had class most days of the week, Ekko meetings daily, and tutoring at least twice a week. On top of all of this, you desperately needed a job. Even with the hours that passed and the rest you got, the looming feeling of doom was making you feel anxious. There was a bubbling thought in you that in a few days time, you might genuinely have a panic attack. The signs were there, a fleeting feeling of irritation—the need to constantly be doing something. If you didn’t you’d be left alone with your thoughts and that never worked out well. 

The next day's hours squished themselves together. Despite the feeling, you plastered on a smile and made your way to do everything you had to. You couldn’t chance anyone, especially Ekko, knowing that you weren’t feeling the best. Yet, the emotion often found you in silent cries. You took the long way to tutoring, walking on side roads you knew never had many people on them. In one ear, you let music play, sinking into the emotion as best you could with the consistent sounds of the world around you. It was best you cry now, you thought. You had to focus during tutoring. 

You didn’t sob, but rather let the tears run freely. The cool sensation helped usually—a way for you to identify that you were present in the moment…in your body. You let your legs carry you to the resource center eventually, mindlessly walking toward the room Jayce had reserved. Truthfully, you were glad to see he wasn’t here yet. 

You got comfortable, wiping your face free of the proof of your small breakdown. You straightened at the sound of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Hey,” Jayce backed into the room, a small bag in his hands. He slowly turned, closing the door behind him. You weren’t looking his way, purposely avoiding his gaze—hiding your reddened eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” a sniffle, “Just had a hard day…lot on my plate.” 

He nodded, sitting across from you. “Well…I guess it’s good I made sure to bring some encouragement then.” You finally looked at him. His face contorted briefly at the sight of you before handing you the bag he walked in with. “Here…this should help.” 

Confused, you reached for the bag. “But-“ 

“I asked Viktor,” he interrupted, “He said you would like some of these.” 

“You really didn’t have to, I was just joking-“ 

“I wanted to,” he spoke quickly before pausing. He looked at you, swallowing the already lessening amount of moisture in his mouth. He needed some water. “Besides, the store was on the way here.” He cut himself off, gulping some of the water from his bottle. 

You didn’t speak, just looking at your favorite snacks in the bag. The gesture was a lot to take in, but it was appreciated.

“Can I say something?” 

You nodded, “Of course.” 

“I kind of relate to you…what you said about school. I have a scholarship, too.” 

“You do?” 

“Yup. It’s just me and my mom and we can’t really afford it.” He repositioned in his chair, “I worked really hard before this…for years to make sure I could get a full ride. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting that burden on my mom. But, when I got here, it was like the burden was on me now, to not fail…you know?” 

“Right…” 

“I don’t want you to feel…you shouldn’t feel like it’s all impossible.” He didn’t acknowledge the way you started to cry a little—he thought better of it and you thanked him internally. Instead, he reached for a paper towel. “Sorry, this is all we have…with the white boards…” 

“Thank you,” you chuckled a bit. 

“So…are you gonna eat any of those or can I have it back.” 

“I might be willing to share.” 

Jayce rubbed his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear!” 

The session was great, as usual. You were feeling even more comfortable—confident enough to take the next physics quiz. 

More importantly, you made it just in time to see Ekko’s look of surprise when you got there before him. 

“On time?” 

“On time.” 

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @bxxerry

[burningembers91]

Help Wanted - Seong Gi-Hun x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Back Alley Bar

Synopsis: When Seong Gi-Hun sees you struggling, he decides to step in

A/N: this storyline is becoming more angsty than I originally thought it would! A lot of my MC’s are happy go lucky people though, so it’s fun creating someone’s who’s just as flawed as the other characters.

You were late, so incredibly late. Between your full time day job, shifts at the bar, and your online university classes, you were burning the candle at both ends. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had more than 4 hours of sleep, and it was starting to catch up to you. Your shirt was inside out, a problem you’d only realised as you left the subway. You’d have to quickly change it in the bathroom before class, and hope your students and fellow teachers didn’t notice your absence.

You glanced down at your watch: only 6 minutes to make a 10 minute journey. You’d have to run to the school, which meant you’d turn up to work both sweaty and dressed incorrectly. Groaning internally, you picked up the pace, setting out into a steady jog. You hated running, it made you feel like your lungs were about to burst out of your chest. You were so busy mentally timing your journey that you didn’t notice the figure in front of you. Not until you collided full force with them, knocking you and the contents of your bag onto the pavement.

“Oh, fuck!” You hissed, your hands going straight to your throbbing nose. You looked up, ready to curse whoever it was that hadn’t moved out of your way, only to see Seong Gi-Hun standing over you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, bending forward to help you up. You nodded, checking there was no blood before scrambling to pick up your papers that were blowing lazily down the road.

Gi-Hun had always thought you’d been beautiful, but even he had to admit that you looked exhausted beyond measure. There was deep bags under your eyes, toothpaste in the corner of your mouth, and was your shirt inside out?

“Your shirt-“ he began, before you cut him off, your tone harsh.

“Yes,” you snapped, “my shirt is inside out.”You took the remaining papers from his hands, sighing as you rubbed your tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’m just really tired and really, really late for work.”

Gi-Hun held his hands up, stepping aside to let you rush past him. “I hope you have a good day!” He called after you, smiling as he watched your incorrectly worn shirt billow in the warm spring breeze.

He hadn’t been to the bar for a few weeks. Your words had really gotten to him, had made him stop and think. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life wallowing in his own pity? Drinking himself to death wouldn’t change what he’d done, nothing would take back the mistakes he’d made, nothing would bring back the people he’d lost. But if he didn’t do something soon, he’d waste away into nothingness. The morning after the conversation in your car, Gi-Hun threw away the bottle of whiskey he usually kept by his bed. He went out and looked for places advertising employment, willing to take on whatever work he could get. He missed seeing you though, missed listening to you talk when you thought he wasn’t listening. He’d never seen you in the daylight before, and you looked even more beautiful than you did in the dimly lit bar. But you looked so tired, so stressed. You’d done so much for Gi-Hun over the last few months; now it was time for him to return the favour.

That night, Gi-Hun returned to the bar. He didn’t drink, though he desperately wanted to. He just sat with you, keeping you company as you had done for him so many times. You looked exhausted, your eyes red rimmed and puffy. You didn’t talk much that night, too tired to form words. But Gi-Hun didn’t mind; he knew better than anyone that sometimes all you needed was a persons presence to stop you from going completely insane.

“Let me drive you home,” he said to you at the end of your shift.

“I’m fine, honestly,” you mumbled, fumbling with the keys as you locked the bar down for the night.

“Please,” he insisted. “It’s not safe for you to drive.”

You looked at him, closing your eyes as they burned with tiredness, before sighing.

“Fine.” Tossing him the keys, you slumped into the passenger side, secretly grateful for the help. If you’d had to drive home, you weren’t sure you’d have made it back in one piece.

You were both silent as the car wound through the city streets, lost in your own thoughts. Gi-Hun helped you upstairs with your bags, ladened down with student essays you needed to mark, and your own uni work that you hadn’t had time to complete. He wasn’t sure if he should stay for a while, to make sure you got in ok.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, desperate to prolong his time with you, even for a brief moment. Your stomach growled loudly in response, and you clutched at it.

“I guess I forgot to,” you mumbled, throwing yourself down on the couch which was littered with yet more paperwork.

“You need to eat,” he said, “let me make you something.” He dug around in the cupboards, finding a couple of packs of instant ramen to make while you got changed out of your work clothes. You returned a few moments later, makeup free and wearing a tiny pair of pyjama shorts. They accentuated the curves of your thighs and hips so perfectly, and Gi-Hun found himself unable to tear his eyes away. You looked so beautiful, but so fragile and broken.

Handing you the bowl of food, he turned to go. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, didn’t want to encroach on you when you clearly needed rest.

“Please don’t go.” Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. You looked so small sitting on your sofa, the bowl of steaming ramen in your hands. “Please, can you just stay a while?”

You were so lonely at the minute, so utterly drained and exhausted. You just needed some company, needed someone to sit with you. And so Gi-Hun stayed. He sat with you while you ate, neither of you talking, but both of you having so much you wanted to say.

“Why do you do all this?” He asked eventually, looking at the mountains of paperwork all over your tiny living room.

“I made some bad choices when I was younger,” you sighed. “I met someone when I was really young. I thought he was a nice guy; he wasn’t. I took a job as a teacher because it was easy and brought money in. But as soon as I put money in the account, he would spend it.”

Your ex sounded like Gi-Hun, and it filled him with shame.

“Did he gamble?” He asked, wondering just alike the two of them were.

You shook your head. “Drugs and prostitutes, mostly,” you laughed bitterly. “It took me years to get the courage up to leave. And when I finally did I realised I’d wasted my life being with a man I hated, in a job I can’t stand. I thought by going back to university I could make myself better somehow. But I’m just really tired and I have nothing to show for it.��

A single, fat tear dropped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. You talked long into the night, fighting sleep so you could spend more time with the man who had shown you such kindness. When your eyes could no longer stay open, you crashed hard on the sofa, your head slumped on Gi-Hun’s shoulder.

He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare wake you from the sleep you desperately needed. So he stayed there all night, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. His hand tentatively stroked your back, soothing the troubled mumbles you uttered every now and again.

You’d been there for him when he needed someone, and now he’d be there for you. Life was tough for both of you, but you could help each other. Maybe together you could come out the other side. Maybe together you’d be ok.

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Complaints

Sevika x Female Reader (Fluff)

Getting drunk and having your girlfriend take you home.

Contains: Intoxication, ass tapping. (literally nothing too sexual). Reader wears revealing clothes. (idk if that’s like, an ick?

Proofread || Note: So… I broke my phone :) hahhaaaaaaaaaaa 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ This is so rushed, im so sorry omg.

Fourth drink down and you were beginning to feel tipsy. The loud music and the bright lights weren’t helping, and don’t get yourself started on the nagging laughter coming from the men sat beside you on the stools.

With a grimace, you turn to face the crowd of people; who were dancing to the upbeat music. They looked like they were having fun, unlike you. It had been half an hour since you unattached yourself from your girlfriend, who was now playing poker with a bunch of men, and went to grab a drink. As a lightweight, it never took much effort to get yourself drunk, so with only a few shots of tequila you were just that.

With your uncomfortably tight clothes, you stepped off the stool and made your way back to your muscular girlfriend. Sevika, who saw you coming, wrapped her mech hand around your hips the second you sat down. “Finally came back?” She smirked out, pulling the cigarillo from inbetween her dark lips. “You’re acting like I was gone for an hour..” hands on the edge of the table, fingers playing with the roughened wood, you lean your heavy head against her shoulder.

“In thirty minutes y’managed to get yourself drunk. Funny.” The woman scoffed, though there was no hint of bitterness in her tone. Instead, her words were full of fondness. You guessed she could smell the alcohol from you, must’ve been strong.

See, the main reason you’d stepped away from her was because she was being completely unreasonable— as you called it— your girlfriend had been complaining about your revealing outfit the second the two of you had entered The Last Drop. She’d even offered to lend you her, most prized, cape. Don’t get her wrong, she let you wear what you wanted, just not when you were trembling in the cold.

“Not funny.” With a roll of your eyes, you shift onto your girlfriend’s lap. It was definitely more comfortable, much more warmer too. Your mind was still trying to process a lot of things, so all you needed was a good place to relax. “In the middle of a game, love.” Sevika’s cool, metallic finger ran up and down your back, soothing your heated, tingling skin. “So?”— “So, you’re movin’ too much.” The woman gave your waist a squeeze and held you in place. “How much longer? I’ve been watching you play for like.. uhm, a good while now?” Your words slurred as you managed to speak. Your girlfriend took the hint and shook her head in slight disapproval. “Maybe y’shouldn’t of drank so much?” You, having a huge headache and clearly not in the mood, gave her a squeeze on her cheek. “Oh, yeah, poke your girlfriend’s cheek until she’s givin’ in.” This tactic had worked before, and you were confident in your attempt.

And, of course, you succeeded. Turns out, nagging in your girlfriend’s ear about the randomness things all the while squeezing her cheeks was the only way to pull her out of a game.

Sevika was forced to give up with a deep sigh before throwing her cards onto the table and walking you to your shared apartment; which wasn’t far. Arriving and locking the door behind the her, Sevika let out an exaggerated sigh. “Y’happy now?” Yeah, you were. “My head was hurting, not my fault.” Your migraine had lessened in time, thanks to the fresh air you’d gotten and the warmth from your girlfriend. “Hope you’re ready to be hung-over, baby.” “Yeah, I am. I’ll be fine with some medicine.” You follow Sevika into the bedroom before collapsing onto the bed, she followed suit and pulled you into her arms.

“Y’expect me to help your stubborn ass?” She gruffed in half-seriousness as she nuzzled into your neck. “Think we need to change you, I don’t understand why you didn’t wear something more.. functional..” of course Sevika disapproved of your outfit, she was the only one allowed to enjoy them; so to wear them outside the house would only rile her up. “This is functional, it’s pretty too!” A miniskirt with a laced top sure would get you a “lot of attention”, which you, sometimes, didn’t mind. “Pretty, sure. But, functional? Don’t think so, sweet thing.” Although it was hard to make quick movements in the fear of flashing someone, the outfit you wore was one of Sevika’s favourites, so you didn’t understand why she was complaining so much. “Will you just change me?”

It took Sevika a good while to figure out how to take off your complicated skirt. When she did, she gave your ass a pat before slipping you into some cozy pajamas. “Will you quit doin’ that?” You let your girlfriend carry you back into bed and she pulled you tightly against her muscular chest. “Y’like it, don’t lie.” The warmth of her breath mixed in with her sweet and metallic scent had you more relaxed than ever. Your mind had stopped spinning, your body just melted into her, and her touch had you more than content. You couldn’t feign the annoyance anymore.

“Maybe I do..”

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART THREE

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 1.2K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, mention of hospitals/emergency rooms, honestly pretty fluffy, cussing

A/N ✦ i've been on a writing streak the last few days, i'm already working on part four, hopefully should post it by tomorrow :)

PART TWO »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

You felt like absolute shit. Your whole body ached and waves of nausea flowed through you. Slowly you lifted your heavy eyelids and looked around. Nat, Clint, Thor, and Wanda all sat around you as you laid in a hospital bed. 

“Y/N’s awake.”, Wanda said to the others. 

Everyone looked towards you. 

“How you feeling?”, Clint asked.

“Awful.”, you groaned, “What the fuck even happened?”

Your memories of the previous night were a blur. The group looked around to each other silently debating who would fill you in.

“Do you remember anything?”, Nat questioned.

“I remember up to when we were on the dance floor but after that, nothing.”

Nat relayed the previous night's events to you, adding details of what happened after you blacked out. Like the fact that Bucky had personally driven you and Nat to the emergency room, and slipped one of the nurses a couple hundred to make sure you got the best treatment possible. 

“He also had me give him your phone number so he could check up on you.”

Internally you lit up, thrilled at the thought of the handsome man caring about your wellbeing. However, something cut through your mind, temporarily interrupting your joy.

“Did he get in trouble for fighting that guy?”

“There was no way in hell that guy was going to be calling the cops after what he tried to do to you so no trouble there and Bucky can’t get in trouble with the club seeing as he owns it.”, Nat said, “I found that out on our drive to the hospital because I had the same thought as you.”

Your brain was trying to process all of the information you had just been given, almost feeling overwhelmed by it.

A soft knock on the door turned all of your attention that way. A blonde nurse in baby blue scrubs was leaning her shoulder against the door as she opened it, a large vase of pink roses and tulips clutched in her hands.

“Miss (Y/L/N), these just got delivered for you.”, she smiled at you.

Thor stood and retrieved the flowers from her. Setting them down on the thick window ledge, he plucked the card from the stand it sat on, and handed it to you. You opened the envelope shakily, your body was still not fully recovered from last night. 

Hey Sweetheart, Let me know when you get out of the hospital, I sent you a text so you have my number. Hope you’re okay. I’m here if you need anything ━ Bucky

Your face blossomed with a blush.

“Who are they from?”, Clint asked.

With a wide grin you responded, “Bucky.”

A few hours later and the emergency room doctors finally cleared you to go home. Your friends helped you gather your belongings, Clint and Wanda telling you goodbye as you guys reached the parking lot. Thor kindly gave you and Nat a ride back home to your apartment.

After dropping you guys off he yelled from his car window, "Bye guys! Love you both!"

"Bye Thor, we love you too!", you and Nat yelled back to him as you continued up the sidewalk and into your apartment building.

After you crossed the threshold of your home, you immediately headed to your bedroom.

“I’m going to go shower and get this hospital smell off of me.”, you told Nat.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything, I’ll be out here watching TV.”

Entering your room, you immediately shed your dress from the previous night, tossing it into your dirty clothes hamper. You dug through your dresser selecting a pair of baggy grey sweats and one of your favorite oversized shirts.

After grabbing your clothes you head to your bathroom. Entering, you set your outfit and phone down on the sink, going to turn your shower on. You twist the hot water knob to the on position, the sound of trickling water filling the room.

You moved back to the counter grabbing your phone. As you unlocked it you saw a text from a number you didn’t have saved.

UNKOWN: Let me know when you’re back home, I’ve been worried about you. 

UNKOWN: This is Bucky btw. 

You smiled, saving his name in your phone, and shot him back a text.

Y/N: I’m back home, still not feeling amazing, but I’ll survive. Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.

Bucky quickly sent you a response. 

BUCKY: I hoped they might cheer you up a bit.  Y/N: They definitely did. Also thank you for last night, I appreciate it more than you know. 

The typing bubble popped up and disappeared several times. You closed out of your messages, opening your music streaming app and turning on your favorite playlist. Locking your phone you set it back down on the counter and stepped into the shower. 

You felt some of the tension in your back slowly fade as warm water trickled down your body. After relaxing in the hot water for what you deemed long enough, you began to wash yourself, scrubbing a little too hard, trying to get the smell of the hospital off of you as well as the metaphorical feeling of Caleb's hands.

Once you felt that you were sufficiently clean, you grabbed a light green towel off the wall, wrapping it around your body. 

You reached for your phone again.

BUCKY: I’m just glad you're safe.

You saw that several minutes had passed in between that text and the following ones he sent.

BUCKY: Go to dinner with me? BUCKY: Only if you want to of course. I don’t want you to think you have to say yes just because I helped you yesterday. 

‘Men that respect boundaries are so hot’, you thought to yourself.

Y/N: Of course, I would really like that. 

You set your phone down again. Drying your hair and doing your skincare. After you finished, you exited the bathroom and flopped down onto your fluffy pink comforter. Exhaustion started taking over you and you crawled under your blankets, snuggling into your pillows.

Your phone buzzed beside your head.

BUCKY: Let me know when you’re free next, I have the perfect place we can go. Y/N: I’m going to take a nap, but when I wake up I’ll check my schedule and see what days I’m not doing anything.  Bucky: Perfect, sleep well sweetheart, ttyl.

You smiled softly, butterflies forming in your stomach. 

You reached for your TV remote, turning on a show to play as background noise while you slept. Your eyes closed, feeling very heavy and within minutes you were asleep.

Nat eventually came into your room and woke you up, letting you get a five hour nap in. She had made the two of you dinner, spaghetti and garlic toast. Your stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of food. Laughing, you followed her into the kitchen.

You pulled up your calendar on your phone, seeing when your next day off was, and texting the information to Bucky.  

Y/N: Just looked and my next day off is Tuesday. BUCKY: I’ll pick you up at 7? Y/N: That works for me :) I’ll send you my address.

After texting him your address you put your phone away, enjoying your dinner with your roommate as you guys watched TV. The two of you made it through several episodes of your show, before Nat started yawning, saying she was going to head to bed. You both went to the kitchen, rising your dishes and headed down the hall into your respective rooms.

You fell asleep, bubbling with excitement over your upcoming date with Bucky.

PART FOUR

I AM OPENING A TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

[multifandoms27-blog]

Yoyoyo, to the bucky/ws ask,

CW!era bucky x avengers reader

Reader is good friends with Sam and Steve and is also around Bucky a lot because of that so when they find each other somewhere they always chat for a while

eventually one late night things get heated between them and they end up in one of their bedrooms but since Bucky had been the ws for 70 years he’s pent up and super sensitive, comming rlly quickly and a lot js from grinding against reader’s thigh for a bit

:3

OHHHHHHH MY GOD YES YES YES

Content: CW!Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI!!! Premature ejaculation

Notes: I love cw era bucky hfhfjdhfjkhjd also first post of 2025!!

• ───────────────── •

The movie droned on and on, the plot lost on you. Instead, you cast sidelong glances at the man next to you. Bucky Barnes, one of many dreamboats in the Avengers tower. Sometimes you wondered if Tony only hired attractive people...aside from, y'know, what Bucky had done in the past.

But we don't need to talk about that.

Tonight's movie night only consisted of you, Sam, Steve and Bucky. The others were all either busy or on missions somewhere else. You looked at the other couch, where Sam and Steve sat, watching the movie intently. Sam had a habit of making some sort of joke or commentary on the bad decisions the actors made. Steve would shush him in return. Bucky said nothing, just choosing to drape his arm on the couch behind you.

Your heart began to hammer in your chest as you glanced back at Bucky, following the muscles along his right arm, the one currently resting behind you. You began to remember how those muscles flex in the gym, glistening in sweat, his breathy grunts reaching your ears. You felt your face heat up, but your brain didn't stop.

You then remember how those muscles feel wrapped around you in a tightly woven hug, one that you didn't initiate for once. Bucky had been warming up to you, albeit slowly.

Next, your mind decided to fuck with you a little bit. The image of Bucky remained, but you fantasized about him caging you in his arms against the counter, those muscles flexing slightly, his blue eyes narrowed and waiting for you to speak.

Your mind thought of how he'd look on top of you, those muscles still flexing, glistening in sweat. How his breathy grunts reaching your ears-

"I'm going to the bathroom." You announced, getting up from your spot and leaving the room, not waiting for a response.

Instead, you rushed to your room. Your face was flush, you felt hot, and your core was throbbing. You felt guilty having fantasies about your friend, but what could you do? He was handsome as fuck. It should be illegal to walk around with that lethal of a face card.

You hooked your thumbs on your waistband, about to pull your pants down, when a knock sounded at your door. Freezing, you knew it could be one of two options. Either it was Steve, trying to see if you were okay. Or it was Bucky, probably doing the same thing. Sighing, you pulled your thumbs out of your pants and opened the door. Bucky's concerned face showed on the other side.

"Are you alright?" He spoke low, not wanting to wake the few that were sleeping at this hour.

"Yeah, just have some stuff to do."

"I thought you said you were going to the bathroom." Bucky took a step closer, eyes trained on yours.

"It was an excuse, I just..."

"Just didn't like the movie?" Bucky asked. "Or were you fantasizing about someone?"

"I- what? No, I wouldn't, I mean..." You panicked.

"You don't have to lie to me. I could practically smell you it was so bad." Bucky spoke, and suddenly you were very aware of how close he was to you. "I can help...if you...want that."

And that was when your brain and heart decided to flatline.

"Bucky you don't have to force yourself to-"

"I'm not forcing anything. I want this. I want you." Bucky spoke.

You searched his eyes for anything, anything at all that indicated he didn't want this. You found nothing. "Close the door."

Bucky closed the door with his heel and leaned in to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He walked the two of you backwards to the bed, where he gently laid you down without breaking the kiss. One hand moved to cup your breast, the other held himself up as he shifted around.

He straddled one of your legs, his knee pressing against your core. He pulled away from the kiss and you two looked in each others eyes before a compulsion overcame you. You - with Bucky letting you do this - flipped him on his back, with you now straddling his leg. You leaned down to his neck and began to kiss along the side of it, your tongue poking out here and there to test the waters.

When you got to the junction between his shoulder and his neck, your tongue lapped at the sensitive nerve, causing Bucky to let out a breathy groan, his hands flying to your hips, forcing you to grind down on his leg. Moaning into his neck, one of your hands traveled down to his steadily growing cock, palming him through his pants.

You bit down on the flesh between his shoulder and neck, making his grip tighten and his groans become louder. Gyrating your hips onto his leg, the seam of your pants rubs past your panties and against your clit, giving you some form of friction.

Bucky's groans were getting louder when you switched from just palming him to stroking him the best you could through his pants. You tried to come up from his neck, but Bucky immediately grabbed you by your hair and held you there.

"Bucky, I want you to take your pants off."

Bucky didn't answer. Instead, he rutted his hips against your hand, his groans growing more desperate. Was he about to...?

Bucky stilled and let out a shaky groan, holding you close against him. You stilled as well, but only because you couldn't believe what you had just witnessed. You made Bucky Barnes prematurely cum.

He loosened his grip and allowed you to sit up. When the gravity of the situation dawned on him, he felt his own face flush. "I-I'm sorry, I'll go, I just-"

"No, no, it's okay Bucky." You put your hands on his chest. "This might be an invasive question, but...have you been with anyone since we broke you free from HYDRA?"

Bucky hesitantly shook his head no. He looked like a kicked puppy right now. He was averting his gaze, lips downcast, shoulders bunched up...you gave him a small smile.

"It happens to everybody. I think it means I treated you well. And if you would like to, we could go again." You gently turned his head back to look at you.

"After that embarrassing display, I'm not really in the mood." Bucky finally looked you in the eye. "But...I can...stay, if you want that."

Your smile grew. "Of course I want that. C'mere."

Bucky stopped you. "Uh, first I need to clean myself up."

Now your face flushed again. "Oh, right! Yeah, sorry. Come back when you're done."

You quickly got off of him and he gave you a small peck on the cheek before scurrying off to his room. Once he left you alone, you squealed into your pillow.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my Marvel Masterlist in case you wanna request something!

[waywardxrhea]

Won't Give Up - Spencer Reid

Heart's Desire (pt 1) / Soon You'll Get Better (pt 2)

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader

word count: 7,584

Going to a routine follow-up appointment with Doctor Rubio lands you where you least expected it: back in the ER.

content: ANGST, lots of medical stuff (vomit mentioned as a warning for those who are queasy), canon typical themes - mentions of threats to safety and guns (it's a criminal minds fic, what can you really expect?), some inherently political topics (death row and guns - nothing to sway one way or another, they're just mentioned), fluff at the very end

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Spencer asked as he gathered up his belongings in order to head to Quantico for the morning. 

“I’m sure,” you replied before kissing his cheek and handing him a to-go cup of coffee, just the way he liked it, of course. “I’ve dragged you away from work and the team enough already over the last few months. It’s just a routine follow-up and test to clear me for field work again.”

“But, what if-”

“Ah, ah, ah!" you interrupted him with a quiet laugh following. A fond smile made its way onto your lips, and you ghosted your knuckles over Spencer's jawline as you told him, “I love you, and I appreciate your concern for my health more than I can ever express, but it’s okay for you to not be at every appointment.”

“I just worry…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled you in for a hug. 

“I know you do,” you mumbled into his chest. “I’ll call you when the appointment is done, though. Should take around three hours for everything.”

“I wish they would have just had you do an exercise stress test. You’re seeing if you’re cleared to go back into the field, so why not do it with something that would mimic that?” 

You shrugged as he released you from the hug, telling him, “I guess because of how volatile my case was, they don’t wanna risk me falling out at the appointment.”

“That’s fair…” Spencer relented with a sigh. 

“Now go, before you’re late to work!” you said with a quiet laugh, one last kiss for the road landing on his lips before he turned toward the door. “I love you!” you called after him.

“I love you too!” he replied, the boyish grin returning to his features. He never tired of hearing you say those three little words. He had heard you say them in a manner of different ways over your time spent together as a couple, and each one made him happier than the last. As he made his way to his car, he couldn’t help his mind from wandering back to daydreams of the, hopefully not so distant future, he had been having recently…

You looked up as your name was called by the receptionist, and the nurse who would be taking you back gave you a smile as you approached her. “You ready?” the bright young lady asked as she held the door open for you.

“As I’ll ever be,” you told her, now following her down the small hall and into a room. 

As you got settled onto the table, the nurse started up the machine to take your vitals. You sat quietly as she took them and told you, “When we’re done with this, I’ll hook you up to the cardiac monitor so that we can track what’s going on in there as Doc gives the meds.”

“Sounds good,” you told her.

After hooking you up to the monitor, she opened a cabinet nearby and grabbed an IV kit and got started on giving you an IV so the doctor had access to give you the medications. When she finished and made sure it was working, she exited the room, telling you that she was going to grab the medications for the doctor.

When you were alone in the room once more, you got comfortable on the table as you took some calming breaths when your anxiety began to spike. You told yourself that you were going to be fine, that you would pass the test and be cleared for field work by the end of the week! Your positive thoughts were interrupted, though, and you had to sit up as you felt a wave of nausea hit you out of nowhere, a dizzying feeling taking hold as you positioned yourself upright. 

You jumped at the sharp knock that the nurse gave before entering the room, your heart racing in your chest as she opened the door to reveal herself with some medications in hand. She looked you over and asked, “Everything all right? You’re looking a little queasy.”

“Just got really nauseous all of a sudden,” you replied, a slow breath being blown out of your pursed lips. 

“Oh! I’ll go ask if we can get you some Phenergan real quick!” she said, making a quick exit from the room. 

When she returned, it was with the doctor, and she gave you a dose of the nausea medication through your IV. As the doctor washed his hands, another wave of nausea hit you before promptly being knocked away by the medicine. “Better?” the nurse asked quietly, concern evident in her voice. Finally being able to take a deep breath, you leaned against the wall and closed your eyes, nodding while you did. 

There was a beat of silence that filled the air before Doctor Rubio cleared his throat and said, “Becca, I just got a message from the front desk saying that they need you to help with rooming other patients. The other nurse got stuck in a room. I can take it from here.”

“You got it,” she told him, taking off her gloves and heading out of the room. 

When the door clicked shut, Doctor Rubio turned toward you with a syringe in hand that was filled with a milky white substance, and said, “All right, this is the first medication that we give for the stress test. Are you ready?”

“Yes sir,” you replied, adjusting yourself on the bed so you were laying down. 

You felt a cool sensation as the doctor attached the syringe to your IV and began pushing the medication, and within moments your eyes were becoming heavy and your mind started to cloud. Before sleep could overtake your body, you heard his voice close to your ear as he said, “Sleep tight, Agent… Smile when you wake up, you’ll be on camera.” 

When you woke up what felt like seconds later, you squeezed your eyes closed when they registered the bright lights shining at you from above, a noise of discontent leaving your throat. There was a stinging pain in your arm that had the IV in it that you tried to ignore while you figured out what the hell was going on. In the brief seconds that you had your eyes open, you saw some of your surroundings. You were in a room that mostly empty other than some equipment that was still covered in plastic. You must have been in the new wing of the hospital… Not that knowing that helped you at all…

A few seconds later, you turned your head and tried opening your eyes again. What you saw when you opened them was Doctor Rubio sitting at a laptop as a camera was trained right at you. When your eyes made contact with the logo on the back of the laptop, things started to click together. The logo matched the tattoo you noticed on his arm before. It was the very same one that was the symbol of a gun running group you took down when you worked for Homeland…

“Ah, you’re finally awake!” Rubio said as he stood up from the laptop and began approaching you. While he did, you tried to sit up, but couldn’t when you realized that you were restrained to the hospital bed he had you on. “I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he said in a dark tone, and you were sure he was giving you a sick smile under the mask he was wearing, judging by the crinkles by his eyes. He leaned in close and said quietly, “And I wouldn’t say anything either, if you knew what was good for you. Every time you do, your time is cut even shorter.”

“See this?” he asked as he stood back up to his full height and gestured to a bag of fluid that was currently flowing into the IV in your arm. “This is potassium chloride. The very drug that they use on Death Row to stop people’s hearts.” 

When he said this, your eyes widened, and he chuckled as he said, “I think you know where this is going, Agent.” There was a brief pause before he continued, saying, “Four years ago, before you worked for the FBI, before you joined the BAU, you worked on a special task force at Homeland Security. That task force was charged with taking down a group of people who worked under a man they called Schütze.” He flashed you the tattoo and added, “Schütze stood for our freedom. Our rights! And you got him sent to Death Row!” You had tried to ignore the part of your past, but you did remember that sometime within the last year, one of your old friends from Homeland had told you that Schütze had been given the injection...

Anger filled your chest when he said this and reminded you of the fear you faced during that takedown, and in a moment of rage, you bitterly told him, “Schütze didn’t stand for freedom, he stood for chaos and murder. The guns he smuggled into this country were responsible for hundreds, if not thousands of deaths!”

“He stood for the second amendment freedoms that this country is trying to take away from us!” Rubio shouted. He tsked as he made his way to the IV pole and rolled the dial on the clamp so that the fluid ran just a little faster into your bloodstream as he said, “He knew that the only way for us to keep our weapons was to make sure they couldn’t be traced. He knew that one day, they would come for us all. He knew that with his product, we would be able to raise an army of freedom fighters to protect our rights!”

“You’re delusional…” you muttered as you took in the wild look in the man’s eyes. 

“Tell that to the thousands of people watching the stream right now. They’re all here to watch you die,” he said while gesturing toward the camera. The roller on the potassium was opened up a little more as he told you, “When someone gets the lethal injection, they’re first given a large dose of a sedative so they’re unconscious. Then, they’re chemically paralyzed with just as large a dose of a paralytic. After that, they’re injected with potent potassium chloride, and their heart stops within a minute.” Rubio gestured toward the camera again as he said, “These people, though, want to see you suffer. I do too, if I’m honest. You see, ever since I brought you back here and you took a little propofol induced nap, I’ve been loading you up with potassium. As time passes, you’ll experience more symptoms of hyperkalemia, and we will all revel in the joy that comes with watching someone you hate slowly die.”

All throughout this time, you were struggling against the restraints holding you down, but as he neared the end of his monologue, you began to feel a staticy sensation in your arms and legs, as if they were falling asleep. To combat it, you opened and closed your hands to try and regain the feeling in them, and Rubio only chuckled as he said, “You’re already starting to feel it, aren’t you? That numbness you’re getting right now is one of the early signs.” 

He sat back down behind the laptop before saying, “While that infuses, let’s read some of these comments from other followers of Schütze, yeah?” A sick laugh left his throat as he read, “‘If I knew the bitch was practically in my backyard, I would have shot her in the head myself.’ I wonder how close that one lives to you and your lovely boyfriend, Agent.”

“Leave him out of this,” you told him in a dangerous tone.

“Ooh these ones are asking who the lucky man is. Where they can find him. I do know where you live. It would just take a few keystrokes and they would all know too…” Rubio said with a sneer. 

“You wouldn’t dare!” you snapped, which caused him to stand up and approach you with a dangerous look in his eye. He turned up the rate again, and this time you couldn’t even feel the sting in your arm as he did. Looking down at it, though, you saw how irritated it was becoming, and you knew that something was wrong if you could no longer feel the pain. 

“Oh, I would, though,” he told you as he stooped down and began undoing your restraints. “If you can get out of here, be my guest, but I have a feeling you won’t be able to.”

With your arms and legs free, you wanted to rip the IV out of your arm and get off of the bed so you could make a break for it, but as you willed your arm to reach for the IV line to rip it out, you couldn’t even move it more than an inch. Your legs were no different, and in your attempt to get off of the bed, you just managed to flip over onto your side, facing the camera fully as you gave in. There was no way you were getting off of this bed. There was no way you were getting that IV line out. It was likely you would be dying in this room, in front of that camera. 

As Rubio sat back behind his laptop and began reading more hateful and threatening comments to you, a wave of nausea far worse than before hit you. You tried to breathe through it, but couldn’t as the discomfort only increased as the seconds passed with no end in sight. You wished the medicine they had given you earlier was still in your system, but it seemed to be nowhere to be found as nausea took over and your stomach began to heave. You begged your body to hold on, but you couldn’t any longer, and it took all of your core strength to move yourself closer to the edge of the bed as you emptied your stomach onto the floor. 

Hot tears began to flow from your eyes when you finally stopped throwing up after nearly a minute, the nausea still ever-present as you closed your eyes and tried to keep yourself from completely going into a panic attack. You felt humiliated. Broken. Defeated. You wished that Rubio would just get on with it. Kill you himself with one of those ghost guns he was so proud to support. Make it quick. But that wasn’t what they wanted… They wanted you to suffer.

And suffer, you did. 

Another wave of nausea hit you, and you threw up again, but this time when you were finished, you could barely catch your breath. Your breathing was ragged as you tried to get oxygen into your lungs unsuccessfully, and the room began spinning around you the longer you kept on like that. 

Panic set in soon after, and you could just barely hear Rubio’s commentary over the ringing in your ears. Not a coherent thought ran through your mind, and everything began to blur together. What you were sure of though, was the sudden pain in your chest as you felt your heart kick into arrhythmia. This one you were unfamiliar with, though. It was different from the one you were diagnosed with.

Even as you continued to find yourself in the midst of a panic attack, you felt your heart rate begin to slow over the next few minutes, going even more sluggish than your normal rate as time passed. Soon, black started to dot your vision and everything started to slow down as consciousness began to slip away from you. Through your clouded thoughts, you forced yourself to picture Spencer. If these were to be your last moments on this planet, you would at least be thinking of him. A tear slipped out of your eye as you pictured him smiling at you, and you swore you heard his voice as your thoughts began to fade…

Earlier…

One o’clock rolled around, and while he was sitting down to eat his lunch, Spencer checked his phone to see if you had called with any updates. When he didn’t see anything, he decided that he would call you instead. Maybe you had been given some anxiety medication for the procedure and didn’t remember to update him… Three calls going unanswered over the next hour began to worry Spencer, so he spoke with Hotch and told him that he was going to the hospital to check on you. 

When Spencer arrived at the front desk of the cardiology center, he gave them your name and asked if you were done with your procedure yet. The clerk typed into her computer and told him, “It shows she hasn’t checked out or made her second follow-up appointment yet. The procedure should be done, though, so let’s go see how she’s doing.”

“Thank you,” Spencer said as he followed her toward the nurses’ station. 

When they arrived in the area, their presence was unnoticed as a nurse who looked distressed was being spoken to by two people who looked like administration. “I don’t know what to tell you, Becca! The machine records show that at nine forty-eight, you took out three bags of potassium and a vial of propofol!” 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t do that? Check the cameras if you have to! What patient was it even for? No one I was rooming today had low potassium. If they were that critical, I would have sent them to the ED!” 

“All I know is that those meds were taken out under your name with an override by Doctor Rubio! I just need to know why! As for who it was for…” she said the last part as she ran her finger over the paper and stopped when she found what she was looking for.

Spencer felt like everything stopped when she read off your name. Had something happened? Why did you need that much potassium? Propofol was a potent sedative…why did you need that for the stress test? Before he could think, Spencer walked up to the small group and said, “Excuse me, I’m the medical POA for the patient you just mentioned. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Go ahead,” the stern woman told Becca.

“I got her to the room, took her vitals, and started her IV. When I came back with the meds for the stress test, she was super nauseated, so I got Doctor Rubio to order some Phenergan and grabbed that from the machine. I…” she paused for a moment as she thought through the story carefully. “I don’t remember hearing the exit tone for the computer… Doctor Rubio was right behind me and told me to wait for him to go back into the room. Maybe…”

“You better be damn sure of that story before accusing the doctor of something like that,” the other person said in a huff.

“Well, is she still in the room?” Spencer asked urgently as he started to piece things together. 

“Let’s go see,” the clerk said as she began leading Spencer toward the room you had been taken to earlier. 

When they got in, Spencer saw your purse on the chair in the corner, but no you in sight. Rage and fear gripped him tight, and his voice raised nearly to a shout as he asked, “Where is she?”

“I-I don’t know!” Becca said from behind Spencer. “They needed my help out here, and it got busy!”

“Where’s the doctor?” Spencer snapped as his mind raced a mile a minute. That was nearly four hours ago! Who knows what could have been done to you or where you even were!

“Sir, please don’t raise your voice or else we’re going to have to get security to remove you,” the administration worker told him as she approached, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she did so she could dial security. 

“Remove me?! My girlfriend is suddenly missing from the procedure room she was supposed to be in after a sedative was taken out under her name along with a lethal amount of potassium! You need to be working on getting security footage of where she was taken!” Spencer shouted. He fumbled for his badge in his pocket and flashed it to her as he said, “She’s a member of the FBI, and if you don’t start working on helping me find her, we will charge you with aiding and abetting the abduction of an FBI agent and, so help me if it came to this, murder!” 

“Agent, you need to calm down, you’re causing a scene!” the woman snapped at him, skepticism obvious in her eyes as she looked at Spencer's badge.

“It’s Doctor,” Spencer told her as he pulled out his phone and dialed Hotch. 

“Everything okay?” Hotch asked as he answered the phone. 

“She’s missing,” Spencer told him quickly. “The doctor took out a sedative and a lethal amount of potassium and she hasn’t been seen since. I need the team here to help me find her.”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said.

“Get Garcia to look into Doctor Jordan Rubio. He’s the one who might have taken her,” Spencer said before Hotch hung up and began briefing the team on what was going on at the hospital. 

The rest of the team showed up right as Spencer was arguing with security, telling them, “The longer this goes on, the less of a chance we have at finding her! Do you really want-”

“FBI, what’s going on here?” Hotch asked, flashing his badge as he approached the group still standing in the hallway. 

“You-you’re actually?” the administration lady said wearily as the team approached. 

“Yes, he���s actually FBI, and so is the agent that is missing from that room,” Hotch told her sternly. “Now, what you’re going to do is take me to where I can see the security footage of the last five hours, and we’re going to figure out where she was taken.”

“Y-yes sir,” she said timidly as her eyes turned down toward the floor. 

“JJ, Rossi, split up and start searching. Morgan, you’re with Reid. I’ll tell you if there are any updates from the security cameras,” Hotch directed, sending a look of concern Spencer’s way. 

“There’s a brand new wing being built, we’ll head that way,” Derek said before gesturing for Spencer to follow him as he hustled away. 

Spencer nodded and started to follow, worry evident in his voice as he began to say, “Derek, what if-”

“There’s no what if. We’re going to find her,” he told him firmly. “Now come on, we’ve got seven floors to search.”

Back in the security area, Hotch stood behind the person at the computer who was accessing the footage of the last few hours when his phone began to ring. “Talk to me, Garcia.”

“I was looking into the doctor and found some pages that he follows under a pseudonym on the dark web. They’re all in support of Schütze, the man she took down when she worked at Homeland, and-” 

She cut herself off abruptly, and Hotch heard the gasp of air that filled her lungs, so he asked sharply, “What is it, Garcia?”

“He’s live streaming right now… He…he’s… Oh, God, it’s awful, Hotch.” She swallowed hard before saying, “The stream is titled ‘Killing a Killer - Justice for Schütze’”

“Oh, God…” Hotch whispered, grabbing the back of the office chair in front of him. “Does it look like he has her in the hospital?”

“Yes, yes, there isn’t much in the room, but it looks like- Oh my God!”

“What?!” Hotch asked sharply.

“She’s-” Penelope had to turn away from the stream as she told Hotch, “She’s throwing up and it looks like she's having a hard time breathing! Oh, God…”

“Focus, Garcia! What’s the room look like?” 

“Right! There isn’t much in the room, it looks like it hasn’t been worked in. In the corner of the shot, there’s a cabinet that’s still got factory packaging covering it,” she replied after taking a few deep breaths to settle her own stomach. 

“Send me a picture of that video. I need to confirm with the staff that it’s here.”

“Sending it your way… Now,” she told him as she sent him the screenshot. 

Hotch’s phone rang with a notification, and he quickly looked at the photo. Sadness and rage began to pool in his chest as he shoved it under the security officer’s nose asking, “Is this here?”

“Oh, God…” the man whispered as he looked at the photo. He was quiet for a moment before he nodded and said, “That’s in the new wing. I couldn’t tell you which floor, though.”

Without a further word, Hotch turned and started running down the hall, pulling a walking off of his belt and radioing the others. “She’s in the new wing! JJ, Rossi, get there now! I’m heading there too. Morgan, Reid, what floor are you two on?”

“We cleared the first floor, she wasn’t there. Heading to the second now,” Derek responded. 

“Okay. JJ go to the third, Rossi to the fourth, and I’ll take the fifth. Work fast, there are still two floors above those,” Hotch ordered as he rounded a corner and pushed open the new wing’s stairwell door. 

“Three more doors, Reid, come on,” Derek said as he once again quietly closed a door so they wouldn’t give themselves away. 

“Wait!” Spencer exclaimed quietly, holding up a hand for Derek to stop what he was doing. “Do you hear that?”

Derek strained his ears to hear, and after a few seconds heard what Spencer was. Two doors down, they both heard a male’s voice speaking and then…laughing. White, hot rage filled Spencer’s entire being when he heard the laughter, but before he could make a move toward the door, Derek held out an arm in front of him as he said, “Look, I get that you want to get to her, but we need to be smart about this, man! Treat it like any other case. I’ll go for the unsub and you go to her. Got it?” 

“Got it,” Spencer said with a curt nod as Derek lowered his arm and raised the other to hold his firearm up as they approached the room. 

Spencer’s heart was racing as they approached the door, and as they got closer, the voice of Doctor Rubio was unmistakable. The things he was saying were vile… Of people wanting to hurt you. Stalk you. Kill you. It was all too much for Spencer to hear those things being said about you, and he almost missed Derek’s queue to bust into the room. He zoned in just in time though for Derek to swing the door open and announce, “FBI! Hands where I can see ‘em!”

“You hear that everyone? The FBI’s here to arrest me! If you see their faces, they’re targets too!” Rubio shouted as he stood up from the chair he was sitting in after hitting a few more buttons on his keyboard. 

“Jordan Rubio, you’re under arrest for the abduction and attempted murder of a federal agent. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law,” Derek started to say to Rubio as he shoved him against the wall to begin cuffing him. 

Spencer paid no mind to what Derek was saying, though. The second he was in that room and saw that you were there, he shouted your name as he darted toward you. Taking a quick glance at the scene, he saw the IV bag of potassium pouring into you and grabbed for it, disconnecting the fluid from the line as quickly as he could. He saw your eyes closed and your body motionless on the bed, with only shallow breaths moving your chest up and down. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Spencer whispered as he stepped carefully to avoid the sick on the floor. He gently tapped your cheek to rouse you, and when you didn’t stir, he checked your pulse, shouting, “She isn’t responding and her pulse is 47! Morgan, radio Hotch and tell him we need the ER team here now!” 

“By now her potassium level is likely nearing seven at least. That’s lethal. If she isn’t already gone, she doesn’t have much time left,” Rubio said with a sick laugh. 

“Man, shut the hell up!” Derek told him as he pulled his radio off of his belt and informed Hotch of the situation. After he radioed Hotch and got confirmation that the ER team was on their way, he turned toward the computer and hit the mute button as he dialed Penelope. When she answered, he was quick to say, “Hey, Baby Girl. I’m sure you already found this stream, but before I shut it down, I wanted to make sure you don’t need anything from it for evidence.”

“Shut it down, I've already got everything I need,” she told him promptly. He did so, and after a few keystrokes, the thing was shut off. “Now get that sick son of a bitch away from her.”

“Already on it,” Derek said as he hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, grabbing Rubio by the cuffs and nudging him out of the door. 

When he got into the hallway, he had to jump out of the way of the ER team with their stretcher, who were quickly followed by Hotch, Rossi, and JJ as they all converged on the scene. “Is she gonna be okay?” JJ asked, out of breath from the run she just went on up and down the stairs. 

“I hope so,” Derek said, shaking his head sadly as he watched you being stretchered out of the room. The team had a bag mask they were using to help you breathe, and a crash cart was on the bed just in case the worst happened as you were being transported. Spencer trailed behind, rattling off your medical history and what he knew about what happened as they went. 

By the time you were in the emergency room, you had a team of nurses, a respiratory therapist, and a doctor surrounding you. As much as Spencer wanted to be by your side and hold your hand through this, he knew he would just be in the way, so he stood in the corner, helpless. One nurse who had run out of the room came back in, telling the doctor, “Her potassium level is 6.8.”

“We gotta K wash her. Courtney, put in orders for 80 milligrams of furosemide IV, ten units of regular insulin IV push, D50 IV push, and calcium gluconate IV. Order to recheck labs in an hour. Get a couple new IVs in her, this one’s badly extravasated. We'll some procaine hydrochloride 1% and lidocaine on board as well. She also needs a foley to monitor her output.” 

“On it,” the nurse at the computer said before she began rapidly typing into the computer to get orders in. Other nurses began carrying out the other orders, working together to get everything done before the medications arrived. 

Spencer took solace in the fact that after they gave you the medications, your heart rate started to head toward a normal rate, although the rhythm was still funky. When everything that could be done for the time was finished, Spencer was able to move from the corner, pulling up a chair beside the bed and lacing his fingers in yours. He let out a shaky breath as he lifted your hand to kiss the back of it, tears beginning to fall from his eyes when you didn’t show any sign of a response to him. “I’m sorry… I’m so…so sorry,” he whispered, his voice broken with emotion. 

“It’s not your fault, you know,” came Hotch’s voice from behind him as he entered the room. 

“I should’ve pushed to go with her to the appointment,” Spencer said, not turning to look at his unit chief because of the shame that filled his body at the fact that something like this even happened. 

“How could you have known?” he asked softly. “That brain of yours is capable of many things, but telling the future isn’t one of them.”

There was a silence that filled the air for a few moments before Spencer said, “He has a tattoo. On his wrist. It’s the logo of the group Schütze ran. It was on the laptop he was streaming with.”

“Had you seen the tattoo before today?” 

“No…” Spencer admitted. “I think she had though. The day we went to Rubio to get her diagnosis, she was distracted when he came into the room and washed his hands. He…” Spencer’s breathing picked up as he talked through the story and anger started to build inside his chest once more, his voice raising slightly as he said, “He even acknowledged that she saw it!” He finally looked toward Hotch, and he saw the anger in Spencer’s eyes as he did, a pang of sympathy resonating in his chest as Spencer plowed forward, telling him, “But she never said anything about it. Maybe she didn’t fully recognize it. The human brain tends to block out certain things as part of a trauma response, especially in cases like hers where she was threatened by the group’s followers for a while during the court proceedings. They stopped after a while, so she stopped worrying about them. Filed it all away in the back of her mind...”

“So, do you blame her?”

“W-what?” Spencer asked, shocked at the question. “Of course not!”

“Then don’t blame yourself, either,” he told him, a light squeeze on Spencer’s shoulder as he did. Before he turned to go, Hotch added, “The bureau's got US Marshals on the way to keep watch over the two of you. With the threats that were coming from that stream, safety is a vital concern right now. Until then, Morgan is going to stay here with the two of you, and a thoroughly vetted police officer will be posted outside of the door.”

“Thank you,” Spencer said with a short nod. 

“I’ll be checking in, but for now I think you need to focus on someone else,” he said with a small smile on his lips as he nodded his head toward you. 

When Spencer turned back toward you, he saw your eyes fluttering open, and a wide smile made its way onto his lips as he whispered, “Hey.”

“Spencer?” you asked wearily. A quiet sob fell from your lips before you said, “You found me…”

“Not just me, Derek too,” Spencer said as he grabbed your hand once more, right as the door opened to reveal Derek walking in. He squeezed your hand as he told you with all the sincerity in the world, “I would never give up on finding you. Ever.”

A smile made its way onto Derek’s face when he saw your eyes open, and it was evident in his voice as he said, “Hey, Sunshine!”

“Did you get him? Doctor Rubio?” you asked. 

Spencer looked to Derek for the answer, and he nodded, telling you, “He’s in custody right now. Charged with the abduction and attempted murder of a federal agent. He should get 25 to life without the possibility of parole. We just gotta do the work to make sure he gets life.”

As you nodded, you suddenly cringed at the pain in your arm, a sharp breath being sucked in as everything hit you at once. “Well, I can feel my limbs again…” you muttered as you leaned your head back onto the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed for some sort of relief that didn’t come. 

You were quiet for a few moments before tears began to spill from your eyes as you said, “I’m sorry, Spence… I… I should’ve known, I just… I couldn’t remember where I had seen that tattoo before. I was feeling sick right before he came in, and it got worse when I saw the tattoo again, and I-I should have just left. I should’ve just gone home and-”

“Hey, hey, hey, this isn’t on you,” Spencer told you, remembering Hotch’s words to him only minutes before. 

“Yeah, you can’t blame yourself for someone else’s actions. Especially those of a sociopath,” Derek reminded you. 

You barely heard their words, though, as a wave of nausea hit you. It wasn’t as strong as before when you were in that room with Rubio, but you practically felt the color drain from your face as your stomach lurched a bit. “I need a nurse…” you managed to whisper as you covered your mouth. 

Frantically looking around the room, Spencer spotted a package of alcohol swabs and grabbed one after hitting the button to summon a nurse to the room. He ripped it open and put it under your nose as he said, “Just breathe for me. In through your nose.” 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he took in the scene in front of him. 

“Smelling isopropyl alcohol helps relieve nausea. There are a few theories as to why, one of which has to do with chemoreceptors in the brain, and another to do with the body naturally reacting to the strong smell by breathing in a way that helps reduce the nausea,” Spencer told him as the nurse entered the room. “Can she have anything for nausea?” he asked when she made their presence. 

“Yes, and I have to draw labs again to see what her potassium is, so I’ll do all that when I come back with that medicine,” she said, turning around and heading out the room. 

The results of the lab draw were still critical, so they transferred you to the ICU in order to receive aggressive treatment to bring the level down to normal. As the evening dragged on, your symptoms waxed and waned, with occasional heart palpitations and nausea being your biggest complaints. 

You were surprised that no one from the Bureau had come to question you about what happened. You were sure that it was heavily influenced by Hotch, who, you had no doubt was trying to give you time to heal before the barrage of questioning came. Your time to heal seemed to be up, though, when in the morning, there was a knock on the glass door and in came three people: Hotch, and two people who introduced themselves as agents from the Bureau and the US Marshal’s office respectively. 

Hotch sent you an apologetic look as they pulled up chairs and the bedside table so they could take notes and fill out forms as they talked with you. The hospital staff were informed that they were not allowed in the room unless there was an emergency, and the questioning began. 

During the line of questioning, you obviously had to inform the Bureau official taking your case about your relationship with Spencer, which earned a look of disapproval until Hotch pulled the papers you both signed out of a briefcase he had on the cabinet beside him. You took the agent through everything you felt was important to the case, telling him everything you could remember up until you blacked out. 

When he was done with his questions, the Marshal agent straightened up some papers on the table as she cleared her throat. “Now, I know that you recall some of the comments that Doctor Rubio read to you while he had you down there, but we went through all that Agent Garcia archived, and we have some concerns.”

“Concerns such as?” Spencer asked.

“Well, we’re concerned that, even after the case is tried, there will still be a threat to her safety,” she told him. She turned back to you and said, “There were numerous threats for stalking, killing, and even sexual assault. Even more so than during the trial for Schütze. And we've already stopped a few trying to get into the hospital. From now through the trial period, you’ll have the full protection of US Marshals 24/7, but we would like you to go into witness protection afterward. There are thousands who still practically worship Schütze, and now that Schütze's been given the injection, and the man who tried to hurt you because of it is in custody...”

“I’d never be safe again…” you whispered, your eyes closing as a soft sigh left your lungs and a few tears fell from your eyes. 

“Wait, wait, wait, you wanna put her into WitSec?” Hotch asked sharply, his hands going to his hips in a stern manner as he loomed over the agent. 

“Agent Hotchner, I know that you have your reservations about this, and what happened with your ex wife was a total failure on our part, but-”

“But nothing! She-”

“She needs to be protected! End of story, agent!” she said sternly. “There are thousands of people out there, claiming to have these ghost guns that Schütze brought into the country, threatening her life. Trying to get into the hospital! If she isn’t put under the protection of the US Marshal’s office, she is going to die. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but that’s just how it is!”

“I’ll do it,” you told her, making a hush fall over the room.

Did you want to? No. Going into WitSec meant leaving everything behind. It meant leaving your family behind. But it also meant that you had a chance of living. And you couldn’t take that for granted. 

“I’m going with you,” Spencer said immediately after you gave your consent. 

“Woah, woah, woah, Spence! Think about this for a second. You’d be leaving everything you’ve made for yourself behind. What about your mom?”

“She’s immediate family, she’d be able to go into the program too,” he replied. 

The agent cleared her throat once more before saying, “The problem with that, though, Doctor Reid, is that you aren’t immediate family.”

Without missing a beat, Spencer grabbed your hand in between his and said something that completely shocked you. “Marry me. Before the trial’s over. We’ll have it in Rossi’s backyard. One last celebration as a team…as a family before we go. We’ll be legally married before you have to fully enter the program, and-”

“Spence-” you started to say, but were interrupted by him barreling forward with his thoughts. 

“And before you ask, no, this isn’t a rash decision. I’ve had a ring for months. When you had your first scare in Tennessee, I realized that I can’t live without you, so I went with Penelope to pick out a ring for you pretty soon after. Why do you think I freaked out the other day when you were using that step stool to find something in the kitchen cupboard?”

You laughed quietly before saying, “I just thought you were being overprotective again.” Shaking your head and getting back on topic, you couldn’t help the smile on your face as you told him, “But yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Really?!” Spencer asked, tears welling up in his eyes as a wide smile made its way onto his lips. 

“Yes, really,” you told him, leaning in for a quick kiss on his lips that he deepened for a moment before realizing that there were still three other people in the room. 

“Sorry…” he mumbled sheepishly as he sat back in his chair. 

“Well, I guess that settles it then. As long as the two of you are legally married before the court reaches a verdict, Doctor Reid and his mother will go into WitSec as well,” the agent said. “Since your face was on the stream too, you are also getting threats, Doctor Reid, but not to the same extent. There was going to be a separate conversation about that more privately, but…” She stood up and straightened out her blazer before saying, “Congratulations. Just tell the marshals when you plan on having the wedding, and we can get some extra protection for the night.”

“Thank you,” you and Spencer replied in unison as she and the bureau agent turned to leave the room. 

When the door closed once more, Spencer looked over and said, “Hotch, I’m sorry, I-”

Hotch put his hand up to stop Spencer, telling him, “Don’t be sorry. Agent Monroe was right. I should be apologizing for how I acted. It was selfish to project my past onto others. Especially when it comes to something like this.” A smile started to make its way onto his lips as he said, “Now, it’ll be hard to find replacements for the likes of you two, but I’m happy to see you engaged. It’s a hard job to keep a stable marriage in, so I’m glad that you two will get the chance to make things work. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, a smile on your lips, but mixed emotions running rampant through your mind. Happiness prevailed though, and you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you got at the thought of being married to Spencer. 

a/n: well that was a wild ride, now wasn't it? Spencer and Reader get to get married, but at the cost of losing their identities because of psychopaths who worship Schütze. the angst in this one was real, but so was the fluff when it was there! stay tuned for the fourth (and final) part of what's turned into a mini series! i'm gonna be so honest, i don't know when i'll have time to write it, but just know that it will happen!

also little disclaimer obviously all of this is made up. if there is a real person who goes by Schütze and runs a gun smuggling gang, that's a whole ass coincidence lmao

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss @i-live-in-spite @readingandbaking

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

[faithshouseofchaos]

Study session||Charles Leclerc xGender neutral!adhd!reader

Summary — after hours of trying to study and failing Charles swoops in and helps you get through it.

Word count—713

A/n I used both fem!reader male!reader and gn!reader tags

You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the pages of your textbook. Your notes were scattered in disorganized piles, highlighters of every color rolling around your workspace, but none of it was helping. you flipped the same page for the third time, but the words swam before your eyes, refusing to sink in. Your leg bounces uncontrollably under the desk, and your fingers tapped against the edge of the chair as your mind wandered.

What was I even trying to study again?

you reached for your phone out of habit, scrolling through social media for a brief escape. The timer she’d set to keep you on track went off, startling you, and you groaned in frustration. Fifteen minutes gone, and you’ve done absolutely nothing.

Charles walked in just as you buried your face in your hands, muttering under your breath. He stopped in his tracks, taking in the scene—the mess of papers, your slumped posture, and the tension radiating off you. He set his water bottle down on the counter and approached you cautiously, his footsteps soft against the floor.

“Amour,” he said gently, his voice full of concern. “What’s going on?”

you didn't lift your head. “I can’t do this, Charles. I’ve been sitting here for hours, and I’ve made zero progress. My brain just doesn’t work like this.”

He crouched beside your chair, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “What do you mean?”

Y/N sighed, dropping your hands to your lap. “I can’t stay focused. I read the same thing over and over, and it still doesn’t stick. Then I get frustrated, and I just give up. It’s like my brain wants to do anything but study. And the exam is so close… I’m panicking.”

Charles frowned, his heart aching for you. He hated seeing you so stressed, especially when he knew how hard you were trying. “Okay,” he said after a moment, his tone calm and steady. “Let’s take a breath. First, you’re not stupid, and you’re not hopeless. You just need a different way to study. I think I can help.”

you looked at him skeptically. “You? You want to help me study?”

“Yes,” he said with a confident smile. “I’m good under pressure, remember? And I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Before you could protest, Charles stood up and started tidying your desk, stacking your notes into neat piles and pushing the random highlighters aside. Then, he grabbed a set of flashcards from your stack of materials and pulled your chair closer to the desk so you faced him.

“Alright, that’s the plan,” he said, sitting down across from you. “We’re going to break this down into small chunks. You answer five questions, and then we take a two-minute break. During the break, you can ask me anything you want—about racing, my worst crashes, my favorite tracks. Whatever keeps you motivated. Deal?”

Y/N hesitated, your fingers twisting together nervously. “I don’t know, Charles. What if I still can’t focus?”

He reached out, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Then we’ll find another way. But we’ll do it together. You’re not alone in this, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but this time it wasn’t from anxiety. you nodded slowly. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

They started with the flashcards, and true to his word, Charles kept the energy light and encouraging. When you struggled to answer a question, he didn’t let you spiral into frustration. Instead, he’d rephrase it, guiding you to the answer without making you feel overwhelmed.

“See? You knew that one,” he said with a proud smile when you got the third question right.

“Only because you practically spoon-fed me the answer,” youshot back with a teasing smile.

“Details,” he said with a playful shrug. “The important thing is that you’re learning.”

When they reached the end of the first set, he held up his hands. “Break time! Alright, your turn. Ask me anything.”

Y/N leaned back in your chair, grinning for the first time that day. “Okay, fine. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you during a race?”

Charles groaned dramatically, covering his face with his hands. “Ah, that’s not fair! You know my ego will never recover.”

[pitchprowler27]

Hearts On The Sidelines Part 6

Here is part 6, ideas are welcomed. Enjoy!

The days following their date were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions for Ellie. On the one hand, Leah had been nothing short of perfect—steady, confident, and endlessly patient. On the other, Ellie felt woefully unequipped to meet her halfway. Her mind kept circling back to Leah’s words: I want to take my time with you.

What did that mean? Was she supposed to do something? Was there a timeline she wasn’t aware of?

Ellie groaned, flopping onto Bobby’s couch. He was on his third espresso martini, perched cross-legged in an armchair, watching her with an amused expression.

“Ells, you’ve been sighing like a tragic Victorian heroine for the past hour. What’s going on?”

“It’s Leah,” Ellie mumbled, pulling a pillow over her face.

Bobby let out a dramatic gasp. “The Leah Williamson? Again? Honestly, I’m thrilled, but also mildly annoyed that I’ve become your emotional support gay.”

Ellie peeked out from beneath the pillow. “You love it.”

“Obviously.” He sipped his drink. “Now spill. What did she do? Or, knowing you, what didn’t she do that you’re overthinking?”

Ellie sat up, clutching the pillow to her chest. “She’s just… perfect. And I’m… me.”

Bobby arched an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

“She’s so confident and sure of herself. She knows what she wants, and she’s not afraid to go after it. Meanwhile, I’m over here panicking because I don’t know how to be in a relationship.” Ellie ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Bobby set his glass down and leaned forward. “Ells, let me break this down for you: Leah chose you. She could’ve picked anyone, but she’s sitting there, texting you. That means she sees something in you, even if you don’t see it yourself yet.”

Ellie chewed on her bottom lip, his words sinking in. “What if I’m not enough?”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. If you weren’t enough, she wouldn’t be chasing you like a golden retriever after a tennis ball. Now, stop doubting yourself and focus on what makes you happy.”

Ellie opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by the buzz of her phone. She glanced at the screen, her stomach doing a little flip at the sight of Leah’s name.

Leah: Busy? Come for a walk with me.

Bobby peeked over her shoulder. “See? Golden retriever. Go.”

Ellie hesitated. “What if I screw it up?”

“You won’t,” Bobby said, shooing her off. “But if you do, you know where to find me.”

——————————————————————————————————————

Ellie approached the park bench, her hands buried deep in the pockets of her hoodie to keep herself from fidgeting. She felt her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum as she caught sight of Leah. There she was, leaning back against the wooden slats of the bench, her Arsenal hoodie fitting perfectly and her blue jeans slightly frayed at the knees. Leah's hair was loose, catching the late afternoon sunlight, and she looked so effortlessly put together that it made Ellie want to turn around and pretend she’d forgotten something.

But Leah spotted her, her face lighting up in a way that made Ellie’s stomach flip.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Leah greeted, her voice warm and familiar.

Ellie swallowed hard, her nerves twisting in knots, but she forced herself to smile as she approached. “Hey.”

Leah stood as Ellie reached the bench, her eyes scanning Ellie like she was the only person in the park. “You okay?” she asked, her tone gentle but observant.

“Yeah,” Ellie replied too quickly, her voice a little higher than normal. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I mean, yeah. I’m good.”

Leah smiled knowingly, gesturing for Ellie to sit. “Walk first, or sit and talk?”

Ellie hesitated. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “Uh… sit?”

Leah chuckled softly. “Sit it is.”

They settled onto the bench, and Ellie immediately stuffed her hands back into her hoodie pockets. She could feel her fingers trembling and clenched them into fists, willing herself to calm down. But as the silence stretched, her anxiety only grew.

Leah waited, her patience unwavering. She didn’t rush Ellie, didn’t press her to speak. Instead, she leaned back slightly, her body language open and relaxed, a stark contrast to Ellie’s rigid posture.

Ellie took a deep breath, her nerves finally spilling over. “Okay, so, um, I’ve been thinking—no, not thinking—like, obsessing maybe? I don’t know. But it’s about, you know… this.” She gestured vaguely between them, her words tumbling out faster than she could process them. “And it’s not that I don’t like it—I do, I really do—but I also kind of suck at it? Like, I’m not good at feelings or talking or—God, why am I even saying this?”

She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut as her face burned with embarrassment. Leah hadn’t said a word yet, and the silence felt deafening. But when Ellie finally dared to peek at her, Leah was smiling softly, her eyes filled with nothing but warmth.

“Ellie,” Leah said gently, her voice cutting through Ellie’s spiraling thoughts like a lifeline. “Breathe.”

Ellie let out a shaky laugh, her cheeks still red. “Sorry. I’m a mess.”

Leah reached out, her hand covering one of Ellie’s. “You’re not a mess,” she said firmly, her thumb brushing lightly over Ellie’s knuckles. “You’re just being honest. Keep going.”

Ellie stared at their hands, the simple touch grounding her enough to continue. “I just… I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “Like, you’re so good at this—at knowing what to say and how to… be. And I’m just sitting here trying not to screw it up because I don’t have a clue how to handle emotions, let alone someone else’s.”

Leah tilted her head slightly, her expression soft. “Who told you that you had to have it all figured out?”

Ellie blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You’re not supposed to have all the answers,” Leah said simply. “No one does. And you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, remember? I don’t care if you’re not perfect at feelings or relationships or whatever you think you’re supposed to be good at. We’ll figure it out together.”

Ellie’s throat tightened, her hands trembling slightly as Leah’s words sank in. “But what if I’m… too much? Or not enough? What if—”

Leah gently squeezed her hand, cutting her off. “Ellie, stop. You’re not too much, and you’re definitely not ‘not enough.’ You’re you. That’s what I’m here for.”

Ellie bit her lip, her eyes dropping to their hands again. “I just… I don’t want you to get tired of having to guide me through everything. I know I ramble, and I’m awkward, and I overthink everything. And then there’s all the baggage I carry, and—”

Leah leaned closer, her free hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of Ellie’s hair behind her ear. “Ellie,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I like that you ramble. I like that you overthink, even if it drives you crazy. I like that you’re awkward and bashful and have this ridiculous need to take care of everyone around you, even when you forget to take care of yourself. And your baggage?” Leah paused, her eyes locking onto Ellie’s. “It doesn’t scare me. I want all of it. I want you.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, her heart pounding so hard she thought Leah might hear it. “Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Leah smiled, her thumb brushing over Ellie’s cheek. “Because you’re worth it. You don’t have to be perfect, Ellie. You just have to be honest. With me, and with yourself.”

Ellie swallowed hard, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “I don’t know how to… let someone do that. Let someone in.”

“That’s okay,” Leah said, her voice unwavering. “We’ll go at your pace. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ellie blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the tears that were forming. “You make it sound so easy.”

Leah chuckled softly. “It’s not. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Ellie felt a crack in her armor, a tiny sliver of vulnerability that didn’t feel terrifying. It felt… safe. She nodded slowly, her trembling hand finally steadying in Leah’s.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll try.”

Leah’s smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s all I need.”

They sat there for a while longer, the park quiet around them, the moment heavy with unspoken promises. And for the first time, Ellie felt like maybe—just maybe—she didn’t have to navigate her feelings alone. The two sat in silence for only a moment but it felt like ages for Ellie. She didn’t do well with sitting still or silence. Ellie jumps up from her seat surprising Leah. She looks a little bashful and the awkwardness is coming off her in waves. “Do you think we could walk now?”

Leah just stands up and holds her hand out for Ellie to take wordlessly. She does take Leah’s hand and starts leading her down the parks winding paths. Before the silence could work its way into Ellie’s nerves she just starts talking. “Did I ever tell you how Bobby and I met?” Leah shakes her head so she takes it as a green light to continue. “We grew up together. We did everything together. He always boisterous and extroverted that played well with me not wanting to talk to anyone. He’s an army brat too so we had a lot in common. We both knew that our fathers wanted us to sign up as soon as possible so we even enlisted together.” 

Ellie let out a small laugh as she finished her story, her hands tucked into her hoodie pockets. “So yeah, Bobby and I, two tours together as army medics. We were like a well-oiled machine. They used to call us Stitch and Patch because he was great at sewing people up, and I was good at, well, patching them together enough to survive.”

Leah raised an eyebrow, smirking. “That’s… actually kind of impressive. Sounds like you two made a hell of a team.”

“We did,” Ellie admitted, her voice quieter now, tinged with nostalgia. “Even now, as paramedics, it’s like we haven’t missed a beat. Same rhythm, same unspoken understanding. Sometimes I think we’re more siblings than friends, you know?”

Leah nodded, sensing the deep bond between Ellie and Bobby. She wanted to ask more, to dive deeper into the complexities of their relationship and their shared history, but before she could, Ellie abruptly stopped walking and turned to her, an awkward grin on her face.

“So anyway…” Ellie blurted out, waving a hand in a casual, almost dismissive gesture. “How’s football?”

Leah blinked at her, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. Then, a laugh bubbled up from her chest, breaking through the tension. “Ellie, you just told me a story about war zones, paramedic heroics, and being called Stitch, and now you want to talk about football?”

Ellie shrugged, her grin widening. “What? I figured you’ve had enough of my deep and meaningful for one day. Plus, you know, I hear you’re kind of a big deal in the football world.”

Leah chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I try.” Ellie’s tone was light, but there was a flicker of relief in her eyes. She wasn’t great with heavy emotions, and shifting the focus gave her the breathing room she needed.

“Well,” Leah began, humoring her, “football’s going well. Training’s intense, as usual, but the team’s in good form. We’ve got a big match coming up next week. You should come watch.”

Ellie tilted her head, considering it. “Might have to. Do you promise not to embarrass yourself on the field?”

Leah feigned offense, clutching her chest dramatically. “Embarrass myself? Ellie, do you know who you’re talking to?”

Ellie just stares at her and then with a small smirk replies “Of course I know who I’m talking to. You’re the incredibly hot and cocky Leah Williamson.” 

Leah’s grin turned downright wicked, her confidence radiating with an intensity that made Ellie’s knees feel just a little weaker. She closed the gap between them with a casual stride, her blue eyes locked on Ellie’s like a predator honing in on its prey. “Hot and cocky, huh?” Leah’s voice dipped lower, smooth and deliberate. “Is that really all you’ve got to say about me?”

Ellie blinked, suddenly hyperaware of just how close Leah was standing. Her heartbeat ratcheted up to a sprint, but she refused to back down, crossing her arms as a weak shield. “I mean, what else is there to say? I thought I was being generous.”

Leah cocked an eyebrow, tilting her head as her lips curved into a smirk that practically screamed trouble. “Generous? Oh, Ellie, I think you’re holding back.”

Ellie scoffed, her attempt at defiance undermined by the heat rising to her cheeks. “Maybe you’re just reading into things.”

“Maybe.” Leah’s voice was a soft hum, playful but dripping with dominance. She reached out, her fingers brushing the hem of Ellie’s hoodie before tugging it lightly, forcing Ellie to take an involuntary step closer. “But you seem a little flustered. Care to explain that?”

Ellie’s mouth opened to respond, but the words caught in her throat. Her confidence cracked under Leah’s intense gaze, and she could feel her pulse thrumming wildly in her ears. “I’m not flustered,” she managed, her voice weaker than she’d like.

Leah leaned in, her face mere inches from Ellie’s, her tone dropping into something commanding yet soft. “Liar.”

The word sent a shiver down Ellie’s spine, and her breath hitched. Leah wasn’t even touching her beyond the casual hold on her hoodie, but she felt like she was completely pinned in place. “I… you’re impossible,” Ellie stammered, trying desperately to regain control of the situation.

Leah chuckled, a low, rich sound that made Ellie’s stomach flip. “And you love it,” she teased, her voice filled with maddening certainty.

Ellie glared at her, half-hearted at best. “You’re insufferable.”

Leah smirked wider, leaning back slightly as if giving Ellie a reprieve—but not much of one. “You keep saying that, but here you are. Still standing in front of me, still rambling, still blushing.”

“I am not blushing,” Ellie countered, her voice sharp but faltering.

Leah raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “You’re adorable when you lie, Ellie.”

Ellie threw her hands in the air, turning half away in frustration, though the movement did little to shake the magnetic pull of Leah’s presence. “I don’t even know why I agreed to this walk.”

Leah didn’t let her escape. Instead, she reached out, her hand circling Ellie’s wrist and tugging her gently but firmly back to face her. “You agreed because you like me. And I like you.” Her voice softened but lost none of its command as she stepped closer again, her presence all-consuming. “So stop pretending this isn’t exactly where you want to be.”

Ellie’s breath caught, her defenses crumbling under Leah’s intensity. Her eyes flicked to where Leah’s hand held her wrist, warm and steady, then back to Leah’s face. “You’re… really sure of yourself, huh?”

Leah tilted her head, a small, confident smile tugging at her lips. “When it comes to you? Always.”

Ellie’s heart was doing somersaults now, and for once, she didn’t try to fight it. She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re exhausting.”

Leah’s smirk softened into something warmer, though her dominance still lingered in the way she stood so solidly, so unwaveringly close. “And yet, you keep coming back.”

Ellie couldn’t argue with that. She huffed out a reluctant laugh, shaking her head. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Leah released her wrist but didn’t step away, her gaze locking Ellie in place. “I know. But if it’s any consolation, you’re something too, pretty girl.”

Ellie groaned, covering her face with her hands, half to hide her growing smile and half to regain some semblance of composure. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Leah chuckled, her confidence never wavering as she took Ellie’s hand again, her grip firm but comforting. “Good. That means I’m doing something right.”

Without giving Ellie a chance to argue further, Leah started leading her down the path, her hand fitting perfectly around Ellie’s. The air between them was thick with tension, but for once

, Ellie wasn’t overwhelmed by it. She was drawn into it, captivated by Leah’s unshakable confidence and the way it seemed to wrap around her like a shield. As they walked, Ellie felt her nerves begin to steady, her steps falling in sync with Leah’s.

Leah glanced sideways at her, her smirk returning. “So, Stitch, you gonna tell me more about this nickname of yours? Or should I just start calling you Doctor Ellie?”

Ellie groaned, her free hand coming up to rub at her forehead. “Please don’t. Bobby already milks it for all it’s worth.”

Leah grinned, clearly enjoying Ellie’s discomfort. “Oh, I can imagine. But come on, it’s impressive. Two tours as an army medic? That’s no small thing.”

Ellie shrugged, trying to downplay it. “It’s just what we had to do. You get used to it.”

“Do you, though?” Leah’s voice softened, and when Ellie glanced at her, she saw something deeper behind Leah’s teasing exterior. “Because it sounds like you’ve been through a hell of a lot, Ellie. More than most people could handle.”

Ellie hesitated, her usual instinct to deflect kicking in. “I guess. But it’s not like I’m the only one.”

Leah stopped walking, tugging Ellie gently to a halt as well. She turned to face her, their hands still linked. “Maybe not. But it’s still worth recognizing. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Ellie felt her throat tighten, her usual walls threatening to go up again. But Leah’s steady gaze and the warm, firm grip of her hand made it impossible to retreat entirely. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of hero.”

Leah tilted her head, her expression unreadable for a moment before she smiled, this time softer but no less confident. “You don’t have to be a hero, Ellie. You just have to be you. And for the record, I think that’s more than enough.”

Ellie opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she just stared at Leah, her heart pounding in her chest. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way Leah said them, like she believed them with every fiber of her being.

Leah’s smirk returned, the warmth in her eyes mingling with a flicker of mischief. “What? Speechless? That’s a first.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Leah said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to that teasing, confident murmur again, “you keep showing up. Almost like you can’t resist me.”

Ellie’s cheeks flushed, but this time, she didn’t bother denying it. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, her voice tinged with mock defiance. “Maybe I just like a challenge.”

Leah chuckled, leaning in just enough to make Ellie’s breath hitch. “Careful, pretty girl. I don’t back down from challenges.”

Ellie swallowed hard, her heart pounding as Leah’s smirk grew wider. She was in way over her head, but for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure she minded. “Neither do I.”

Leah’s laugh was low and rich, filled with delight at Ellie’s rare spark of defiance. “Good. I like that about you.” She straightened, giving Ellie’s hand a squeeze. “Now, let’s keep walking before I give you too much of an ego boost.”

Ellie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her nerves settling into something warmer, steadier. As Leah led her further down the path, her presence solid and unwavering, Ellie found herself thinking that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind letting someone else take the lead for once.

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 3

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest; borders created by @anitalenia

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader, slightly ooc! (?) gojo, mostly fluff with a smidge of tension, cat :), small signs of past mental and physical abuse, violence, death, guns, knives, bit of blood, explosion cause by gojo’s technique, mentions of bruising and choking, brief threats, bits of trauma after an attack, healing myself a little after season 2, sharing a bed, gojo teasing, brief argument, reader says something about her not caring if she dies but doesn’t mean it, cursing, gojo has scars, cuddles and secret kisses :)

Author's Note: Hello everyone. This chapter has been a long time coming, and I apologize that I fell off the face of the earth. More of that will be explained later. However, I want to thank those that did message me and have been enjoying this story so far, but we know how life can get. I had a great time writing this during what little time I had, and it's also a little longer than my usual chapters. So, without further ado, here's chapter 3 !! Remember to catch up on The Color Blue if you haven't done so before reading !! For those of you who I may have forgotten to add in the taglist or would like to be added, comment below!

Word Count: ~8.8k

Apparently, even The Strongest got the jitters. Satoru didn't think it was possible, yet here he was, his leg bouncing as he sat in the back seat of the car as it pulled up to the long, winding driveway.

He would admit to himself that he was counting down the days, and then even the hours, until he got to see you again. It felt ridiculous at this point, the quickening heartbeat knowing you were getting closer by the second, the smile he tried to hide whenever you crossed his mind.

And the... other thoughts he had of you over his trip as well. He had those a little more than he was willing to admit in your absence.

The driver pulled up to the front entrance and Satoru retrieved his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He went up the steps, opened the door...

He frowned when you weren't on the other side. He thought that maybe you would greet him in the foyer. Oh well, just meant he would have to go looking for you. Satoru started with your shared kitchen, then the living room... maybe inside your bedroom?

He opened your door, calling your name. Immediately, as if startled, you jumped up from your bed, hands behind your back, the book in your lap clattering to the floor. Satoru's eyebrows raised at your sudden movement.

"W-welcome home, Satoru! How was your flight back?" you exclaimed. Something must be-

"Mmrreow..."

A cat's soft purr sounded in the air.

"Whatcha got there?"

"A book...?"

Satoru chuckled and smirked, his arms now resting at his sides. "I don't think that was a book..."

Your face scrunched up as your arms moved from behind your back. "Please don't be upset..."

You revealed a small ragdoll cat, probably only a few months old, it's singular eye scanning before it landed on Satoru. Satoru gasped and, like a child being presented with a new toy, threw his duffel bag aside and took the cat into his arms.

You've never heard a grown man squeal. That being said, your worried face softened into a grin.

"When did you get this little cutie?" Satoru laughed, turning the cat over in one arm to pet her little stomach.

"W-well... you told me before you left that... your money is my money, and I've always wanted a cat. I made sure I did my research, though! I bought her from a shelter, and made sure to get her the required vaccinations-"

"Does she have a name?" he exclaimed, handing the cat to you.

"I named her Sugar... if you don't like it, we can-"

"Sugar! Awww, that's the perfect name!!" he cooed, petting Sugar under her chin, her right and only eye squinting as she purred. "She already likes me too..."

Sugar moved out of his arms to lay on your bed as you strode to reach for a book on your dresser. A book for taking care of kittens, he realized. "You don't have to worry about taking care of her. I have her food ready for the next few months, the best kind I could find for her breed and age, and I already have her litter set up in the laundry room. I'm keeping her toys in my room as well," you explained, already paging through the book to support your points.

Satoru looked at you from where he started to kneel at the foot of your bed, getting up close and personal with the new feline friend. He admired your sudden commitment, but... "You don't want my help?" Satoru questioned, cocking his head.

"Well, I figured since I'm the one who bought her, I should take care of her. I don't want to inconvenience you," you answered, clasping your hands with the book in front of you.

"It's not really that much of an inconvenience. The only reason I never got one before was because I felt bad that I was almost never home. But now that you're here, it makes it a lot easier. It's not like you got a dog," he reasoned, now standing to full height while petting across the fur of Sugar's back. "If you really want to take full responsibility, that's fine, but I don't mind helping. I just can't promise I can or will want to change the litter."

You let out a small laugh. "I'm okay with that then..."

After a few moments of silence, you picked up your gaze from the floor, a soft smile on your face and a question on your tongue, only to see Satoru looking at you already.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He had such sweet eyes, like blue cotton candy, and the way he looked at you with them was even sweeter. A small blush warmed your cheeks as you averted your eyes. What were you going to say again?

"Something wrong, pretty girl?"

"W-what? Oh, no, I was just... going to ask how your trip was?"

Satoru shrugged. "Meh, nothing out of the usual. Just a few grade ones here and there, but finding a special grade was a little interesting. I took care of that one too. Oh, and there was this one store-"

Satoru ended up ranting about all of the new stores and restaurants he tried out for an hour, even if you did remember some of these places briefly from your short, daily phone calls. He even paused to retrieve something from his bag at one point: a delicate antique comb with pearls in the handle. A gift, as well as something that reminded him of you.

You took it from him to arrange in your jewelry box. You found it quite absurd that Satoru was telling you more about his leisure time that he spent in Kyoto rather than the curses he fought. You couldn't tell if he was just trying to spare you the gruesome details, or he if really didn't feel like it was that important to talk about. Perhaps to him, these curses were like stones on his path to be kicked or flies he shooed away from his face, barely worth mentioning. At least, that's what it seemed like to you.

It scared you a bit.

"(Y/N)?" Your thoughts broke as he said your name, one of his hands resting on Sugar as he sat by her and the other resting on his knee while he looked at you. "You good?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine..."

"Really? You don't seem like it..." Satoru expressed, now rising from your bed to walk over to you. Since he had left, you had forgotten how much taller he was than you. "Is everything okay? I never got to ask how you were here without me..."

Your face shifted as he said that. "May I confess something?"

His eyebrows raised. "Yes, go ahead."

You held the book in your hands close to your chest. "When... when I first started to live here, I found your presence... unwanted and... a bit frightening. I got more accustomed to it and... as we became friends it had become normal. But when you left for this mission, I didn't realize how used to it I had gotten. So much so that... sometimes, when I found myself eating or going about the house or cleaning our living spaces, I would suddenly feel... I felt-"

"Is this your way of saying you missed me?" Satoru interrupted, a smug grin reaching the handsome planes of his face.

Your face flushed. "W-well, yes! But, what I was trying to get to is that-"

"I can't believe it. (Y/N) actually likes me! Maybe she won't move across the world from me after all, haha!!" Satoru gasped sarcastically before pumping his fist in triumph, to which you huffed. Satoru snickered, ruffling your hair. "Heeey, it's okay. You can admit that you missed your darling, awesome husband."

"Not just my husband. My friend," you returned, a grateful smile gracing your features. He mirrored that same smile, his hands on his hips. After a beat too long, you sauntered past him back to Sugar, who was now curled on your bed. "That being said, I think we should celebrate your return."

"Celebrate?" Satoru's eyes followed you as you walked, subtly taking the shape of your waist as you moved and shoving the ensuing thoughts deep down.

"Yes, as both a welcoming party for Sugar and for your return home," you replied, taking the slumbering kitten in your arms. "Also, mostly because I haven't had anyone to cook for this past week."

Satoru picked up his duffel bag and followed you out the door towards the stairs. "Surely that isn't the only reason you missed me?" he laughed.

"Well, nothing else is coming to mind," you joked right back, turning to him. Satoru looked back at you wide-eyed, an opened mouth grin forming on his face. Did you just... go along with one of his sarcastic gags? Telling by the little hidden smile you were giving him, you were.

This was new.

Satoru just huffed and shrugged, taking a step past you to open his bedroom door. "I think I'm rubbing off on you, pretty girl. Maybe I should've stayed away longer..."

You tried to hide your flush by avoiding eye contact, the sudden drop in octave in his voice causing you to go warm. He saw it anyway. Almost expected it at this point, given how predictable your reactions were. He stepped through his bedroom doorway, duffel bag on his shoulder once more, the epitome of smug satisfactory on his face.

Until you gripped his hand, looking up at him with eyes that could bring him to his knees. "I'm glad your home, Satoru."

It was the first time that you had ever initiated such contact. You knew it of course, and so did he. He clung to that unspoken fact, that knowing bit of trust and maybe something a bit more, as he engulfed your hand in his, giving it a small, warm squeeze.

"Me too..."

The two of you decided on a savory curry recipe for dinner. Nothing too fancy, but still delicious. Satoru chose to use the time as a way to try and test out that new found humor of yours, smiling to himself when he would get you to laugh or reply back with something witty. He'd been waiting to see this kind of side of you for a while, one that you had originally kept reserved, or maybe didn't even know that you had at all.

While eating, Satoru asked what you had been up to when he was away. "I was keeping up with my usual tasks. Nothing too special..." you said, looking down at your plate as you spooned some of the curry.

Satoru stared at you as you did, a small frown on his face. "So you didn't get out at all or do anything?" He also wanted to question why you couldn't seem to look at him right now, but he pushed the thought aside.

You shook your head, taking a bite. "Other than running errands or picking out Sugar, no."

"Well, maybe we should-"

Satoru paused.

You looked up at his sudden silence. "Satoru?"

He shushed you immediately, causing you to bite your tongue. He stared ahead, as if peering right through the wall ahead of him. He was peering right through the wall, using his Six Eyes. You could tell by the feint bits of cursed energy seeping into the room.

Then, slowly, ever so slowly, Satoru peeled himself from his seat, his expression suddenly hard. The staff had gone home for the day already, Sugar was sleeping under your feet... What could he possibly be going to check?

"Stay here," he murmured, his voice low. His tone sent a shiver of fear down your spine, not just because of its command, but for whatever the reason could be to change his demeanor so suddenly.

"Satoru, what is it-" you began, your voice hushed and brow furrowed. "Stay here," he growled, his head snapping in your direction as you barely rose from your seat. You complied, inching back down. "I'll be right back."

And with that, he moved, keeping a brisk pace as he opened the door that led to the rest of the estate, and shut it behind him. Worry began to coil in your gut, the thought of what could be so wrong that Satoru would have to just get up and leave. A few seconds passed, then a minute, more minutes...

You couldn't take it. You had to know something. Even if Satoru instructed you to stay put... as long as you didn't leave your shared part of the house, it would be okay, right? You rose from your chair slowly, the wood scraping against the floor as you padded over to the door at a snail's pace, an anticipatory feeling curling in your gut. Fear, something you knew almost all too well. It didn't help that your inner thoughts at the moment were your father's voice, laying out possible consequences and outcomes-

And yet, you grabbed the handle and swung the wide oak door open. Nothing but the dark hall and the stairwell beyond it greeted you.

"Satoru?" You thought that maybe he was playing a thoughtless prank, trying to scare you all for nothing. You almost expected him to pop out from behind you for a moment. No response.

You sighed, turning to shut the door, just before Sugar slipped past you, running. Of course, after her nap her boundless energy would push her towards the one place you didn't want her to be. You lunged forward to grab her, but the kitten only ran further away, as if daring you to catch her in some sort of game. If Satoru saw her, he would know that you must have opened the door at some point!

"Sugar!" you called, running down the hall after her.

"Who wants to tell me how you found my home? First to speak up dies last."

None of the thirty armed men standing in the garden said anything, sticking to aiming their useless guns. Satoru stood before them, arms crossed, the only thing between them and the house. And you.

"Okay, how about an easier question. Who hired you and how did you get past the wards?"

Wards had been placed all around the estate centuries ago when it was first built. No one had ever gotten past them. Until now.

It was almost embarrassing, too. None of these fuckers had any cursed energy, yet he had sensed them creeping through the treeline during dinner. He would've paid it no mind, since the barrier created by the wards should have stopped them. But they had walked right on through, and the barrier probably tickled them with a shock at best. He'd have to check their integrity later. But for now...

"Do I have to treat you like my students and pick on one of you?" Satoru snickered, a hand on his hip. This was a waste of time. The sooner he could get past the easy part, the sooner he could continue dinner with you and figure out who had sent these idiots so he could pay them a surprise visit. He didn't appreciate unexpected guests, especially while in the company of his wife.

Satoru sighed. "Okay then, you." Satoru pointed to one of the men on his left, and the man's arm twisted and exploded in blood and bone, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream. The men replied with open fire, to which Satoru easily blocked with his infinity.

Some of them refrained for a moment, realizing that this was no ordinary target, and that he was no ordinary man. The men stopped firing altogether, bewildered, and watched as the bullets clattered to the soft grass in front of him as he dropped his infinity.

"Should I ask one more time?" Satoru seethed lowly, stalking towards the group. A few of the sensible ones backed away a few steps. One man began to shake.

Satoru turned his head in that man's direction, watching him. The man cried out, and fired off his automatic rifle in a fit of terror, the bullets catching some of his team. The others began to fire with reckless abandon.

Satoru began to take care of them quickly, trying not to waste too much energy as he moved between each target. Move, apprehend, strike, kill, repeat. Move, apprehend, strike, kill, repeat. Each bit of blood he poured only hit the infinity barrier he kept up and blew off like rain on a windshield. But he needed to keep one alive-

There. One was running back through the trees; a coward then, someone likely to confess. He made quick work of the rest, before running after the escaping man not too far into the surrounding forest.

Satoru caught him by his shoulder, ripped his gun away, and flung him to the ground, putting his shoe to the man's chest. "Talk."

"I-I don't know-"

"Then know. Or you'll end up just like the rest."

"But I can't. I won't. He won't let me remember-"

Satoru's head inclined. "Who?"

The man beneath him let out a shaky breath, pointing back towards the house. Satoru's eyes widened, looking back and-

Someone was dragging you through the back garden doors. They had cursed energy.

Satoru teleported back in a heartbeat, right behind the person, bared hands going to wrap around their neck-

But they reacted too quickly. The person, a woman, whirled you in front of herself, holding you up by your neck as a shield. Your choking made Satoru see red.

"Not so fast, Limitless," she purred. "Step back, or I snap her neck."

It would be so easy to snap hers instead, but he didn't know her technique. He didn't know what she could do to you. He complied reluctantly, and the woman set you down and let you breathe before gently resting a jagged dagger against your throat.

The woman was clearly a cursed user of some kind. Tall, form fitting, her muscular body contrasting the elegance of her red kimono and feminine face. She flashed him a saccharine smile. Whoever she was, Satoru didn't recognize her.

"So nice to finally meet you," the woman careened. "Your wife and I have already gotten acquainted." She pressed the knife closer towards the soft expanse of your neck, the sharp edge tickling your skin. You winced.

"Satoru-"

"It's okay, (Y/N)," he breathed out. But it wasn't okay. He had been a damn fool, telling you stay in the house, unprotected. No, he was a fool for following that last attacker into the forest. He was only there to draw him out, so this woman could slip in undetected. "Why didn't you stay in put-"

"That was my doing, actually," the woman smiled, raising her other hand from your nape. Satoru tensed, but instead Sugar appeared from beside her. The woman moved her hand in a circular motion, and Sugar mimicked it, spinning at the same speed of her hand before walking off. "A little party trick. Mrs. Gojo seems rather fond of the animal, so I figured she would rush to protect it when it "decided" to run off." And lured you to the garden just so she could pluck you out.

So, mind control. That was her technique. Satoru huffed. "I will admit, I haven't seen that one before. But what do you want?"

The woman shrugged. "Why don't you guess?"

Satoru's eyes narrowed, trying not to let his slight panic get to him as he saw tears begin to slip down your face. She would pay for that. "Well, lots of people have their reasons. There's always a price for my head, so it could be that, but you seem pretty smart. You know you can't kill me," the woman grinned, "so you went for her. And now I have to... give you something, I presume?"

"Perhaps." The woman began thrumming her fingers on your collarbone. "It is something that you have. Try thinking a little harder."

Satoru crossed his arms, making a show of trying to come up with an answer. "Well, I do have a lot of money, but with your talents you don't seem to need to get it from me. I have valuable information on a vast variety of top secret jujustu subject matters, but really, you don't have to go through me to get those, and, even if you did, I really don't remember anything important, I mean, c'mon look at me. Sooo... other than that I would assume you're trying tooooo get my attention? In which case then, oh, I'm flattered and you seem like a nice gal, but I'm a married man so... what do you want?"

"I want her, dumbass," the woman growled, clearly upset by Satoru's rambling. She pressed the knife point underneath your chin, your chest heaving as you groaned. "Do you know what people would do for Death Immunity? What anyone would-"

"Oh, well, you could've just said so," Satoru grumbled. "Anyway, she-"

A thousand blades lunged at light speed from the trees, all aimed for him, which he deflected without a thought. He turned his head to look at them once they had clattered against the concrete, the knives identical to the one the woman was holding against you. "Geez, did you do that? Where were you keeping all those?" He put a hand to his head, trying to peer into the direction they came from.

The woman's demeanor went from peeved to panic when her surprised attack failed, clutching you tighter in her grasp, her grip beginning to bruise along your collarbone.

"Well, as I was saying," Satoru continued, turning back to the assailant. His eyes briefly took in the woman's nails digging into your skin, his voice rumbling a shade darker. "She's already mine, so I'm afraid you've come here for no fucking reason, other than to get killed. So, without further ado-"

Satoru raised his arm with killer quickness, a blue flash from his hand near blinding you as he aimed and released it into the woman's face. Before the blast could fully take, he pulled you to his chest, turning and shielding you both with his infinity as the woman's head was detonated so fast that her vocal cords were incinerated before she could scream.

You let out a painful sob as he pulled you to his chest firmly, hunching over you with an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. Only when he felt the implosion recede and heard the woman's body thump to the ground did he stand fully and let you turn around. "Are you hurt-"

Your first reaction was to look behind him to where the woman's corpse was still smoking, or what was left of it. "No, no, don't look," he murmured, forcing your head back into his chest. You were a mess, breath heaving, sobs racking your throat, eyes puffy and still crying fat tears.

" 'M sorry! 'M so sorry-" you choked.

"Don't apologize, you're okay now. I've got you. You're safe," Satoru whispered, trying to ground you, rocking you side to side as he cupped your face firmly, bringing his forehead to yours. His hands were warm, so unlike that woman's. Thumbs wiping your tears, he stroked your cheek as if it was the only thing able to pull you back to reality. "You're safe. I've got you."

The investigation at the Gojo estate started within an hour of the attack and was still ongoing the next morning. Members of Jujustu High's Tokyo staff came to help with investigation and cleanup. After they debriefed you, Satoru asked Suguru if the two of you could crash at his apartment for a while, just until he was sure that the location of this estate and the others under the Gojo name were secure. Suguru agreed, leaving with you in tow so you could get some rest and to make sure you were well protected.

Now, those involved in the investigation met in the estate dining room. The chandelier light played off the ancient mahogany walls, overshadowed by the streams of golden sunlight bleeding through the skinny, arching windows and glinting against the many colored alcohol bottles sitting on the flight of shelves against the opposite wall.

Nobody reached for a glass though.

The first one to speak was Ijichi, having entered the room minutes after everyone else. "We have identified the female curse user," he said, passing off a matching folder to each person sitting at the table. "Her name was Kawate Kiko, a curse user who has been hired by many crime organizations and other private buyers for her skills, both in hunting humans and curses."

"And her cursed technique was mind control?" Yaga began.

"No."

All the heads turned to Satoru, sitting cross legged, eyes unreadable behind his glasses. He had switched out his t-shirt and sweats from earlier to his official uniform. "It wasn't mind control. She was able to manipulate knives telepathically at rapid speeds, at numbers probably close to 100."

Shoko set down the file. "Do we have any clue who may have hired her and these men? Or what their motive may have been? Perhaps she hired them to help her."

Yaga grumbled. "Well, if someone didn't blow her face off-"

"Sorry that I didn't give a fuck. Not when she was holding a knife to my wife's throat," Satoru said lowly and firmly. The room went quiet before he sighed and spoke again. "Things don't add up. The men, we know, were all ex-convicts and low lives of local Tokyo crime rigs, with little to no connection to one another or any part of the jujustu world. They would have had no reason to suddenly band together for a hunt like this, especially with someone of Kawate's caliber. Secondly, the man that I hunted down in the forest said he didn't know why he was there and that someone, a he, was preventing him from remembering. Not she. And with 30 non-curse users getting through the estate ward barrier with guns and armor they had no money to possess... there had to have been someone else here tonight with those assets and that technique. Someone with enough caliber to hire someone like Kawate to play along with them. Someone behind the scenes of everything."

"But I thought they were after (Y/N). Why the hell would the other guy not show himself after Kawate was killed?" Kusakabe grumbled.

"Cowardice? Maybe realizing that the entire operation was an impossible job and decided to flee?" Shoko proposed.

Yaga leaned back in his chair. "What doesn't make sense is that someone must have had access to these wards or known how to manipulate them. No one else has access, right?"

Satoru shook his head. "I'm the only person alive that should know how to work mine, but that doesn't mean someone somehow could have been taking the time to study them and learned to break them. But that would also require an insane amount of energy, not to mention the knowledge behind such ancient artifacts."

"But who would try that when they know you could detect them from miles away?" Kusakabe countered.

"I wasn't home this past week, and (Y/N) can't detect them," Satoru pointed. "They must have done it then."

"Do you know who was here, then?" Yaga questioned.

"(Y/N) never mentioned visitors. I could always ask her to see," Satoru replied. "Anyways, tell my students they have the next week off. Little impromptu study week. I'm going to find the clowns that started this," Satoru groaned, stretching as he pushed back his chair. "You guys can handle the rest here, yeah? I'm pooped."

"But this is your house-" Yaga protested, but didn't continue as Satoru meandered out the door.

Suguru let him in to his complex at 9:26am, riding up the elevator and walking down the hall to his place. Satoru always envied Suguru whenever he walked into this apartment, that he had a place to be truly his. Well, as much as Mimiko and Nanako, his adoptive daughters, would let him, with their free range on the decorating. Suguru had saved the two of them with Satoru's help from a village that meant to imprison and abuse them. Shortly after, Suguru had bought this place with what money he had amassed over the years, a home for him and the girls, one where they could heal and form a sense of new identity, Suguru included. And for him, that meant taking the two seven year olds under his wing.

Suguru said something about how had he had been going over the reports that Ijichi had dropped off before he arrived, and while Satoru was happy to catch him up, he just wanted to talk to you, see how you were holding up.

"I think she's still sleeping," Suguru informed, probably sensing his unease. "She didn't end up going to bed until early this morning. She wanted to go take a walk, but I convinced her tea would be better. That was at 4am, and I haven't heard her since."

Satoru thanked Suguru, and walked down the narrow hallway to the guest bedroom, one that he had grown accustomed to staying in when the estate felt too big and he felt too lonely. He pried open the door softly, peering through the crack to see your form under the blankets, and stepped inside. He made quiet work of changing out of his uniform, picking out a pair of pajama pants you had folded and neatly packed into his duffel bag before you left, and sat on the edge of the bed opposite of you, the bed creaking under his weight.

He observed how you were curled into a fetal position, your arms wrapped around a pillow (that he instantly grew envious of), and while the sight would have made him smile, he could see the other things too. Your hair looked unkempt and limp, you were still wearing the same clothes, and he couldn't smell your usual vanilla and lavender bath oil, meaning you probably didn't shower. Besides the wanting to take a walk, Suguru never mentioned you wanting to cook or read or maybe even clean, activities that Satoru had known you to do when restless or stressed. You probably only passed out from pure exhaustion.

He hated he couldn't have been here sooner. Hated that he told you to stay inside. Hated he didn't just deal with the problem as soon as possible before they could draw you out like that. Hated that he had just come home and now you both have these other problems to deal with.

He was going to have ask you more questions when you got up too, but for now... he needed sleep. Badly. Didn't even care how much he needed a shower right now or that he was about to sleep next to you in the same bed for the first time.

Satoru got under the blanket, the bed just big enough for there to be about a foot of room between the two of you. He turned on his side and stared at your back, wanting to close that distance so desperately, to pull you right into his chest, into his arms, and to feel your warmth and your breathing against him to remind him that he was next to you, and that you were safe. To feel your hair against his face and neck, your skin underneath his fingertips.

Instead he just stared. And then slept.

When Satoru awoke again, the sun was already setting. As soon as he arose to look for you, Suguru's girls were already dragging him down towards the living room floor to stick butterfly clips and extensions into his hair. It wasn't until he was able to turn in the direction of the kitchen that he saw you stirring something over the stove as Suguru stood next to you, a drink in his hand as he spoke softly. To his surprise, you replied to each thing he said with equal calmness.

Shortly after the two of you had married, Satoru did want to introduce Suguru to you, but after seeing how you reacted to being around just him, he didn't want to put you into a situation you might be uncomfortable with. However, it seems now that maybe Satoru didn't have to worry. You two appeared to have similar personalities anyway. He's surprised he didn't think of that to begin with.

Even as the girls stepped around him from where he sat, Satoru could barely make out the bruises from where Kawate had gripped you whenever you turned to face Suguru, who seemed to have gotten you onto the topic of whatever dinner you were making. Good. Getting your mind off the past 24 hours will help you to better process everything later, when Satoru would inevitably have to ask more questions.

It was odd. Normally, you would let him know you were having visitors coming over the second you knew. Unless since he was gone you decided to not tell him, or maybe they came over unexpectedly? Whoever they were, they would only be able to study the wards from the inside, so anyone who would have visited the estate is a potential suspect. His staff had all been questioned that morning and ruled out as well, so it had to have been anyone you had contact with from outside the estate wards.

And what was Death Immunity-

Satoru's thoughts were interrupted by the girls shoving a handheld mirror in his face for him to look at his new hairdo, the white tuffs of his hair being littered with colorful bits like confetti frosting. "Wow, you two, I'm gorgeous! What's next? My nails? My face?" Satoru exclaimed, touching up his hair and making faces that made the girls squeal in fits of giggles.

"How about dinner?" Suguru chimed in, arms crossed as he stood before the three of them with a smile. In the background, you were busy pouring whatever was in the pot into bowls for the five of you, adding ice cubes into the girls' portions.

Satoru stood, letting Nanako and Mimiko drag him into a chair between the two of theirs as you and Suguru sat across from them. Suguru helped you carry the bowls filled with a veggie and beef stew to the table with glasses of water to drink. The spirited conversation of the children kept the table from going completely silent, which Satoru was thankful for, but he kept his eyes on you throughout most of the meal, watching as you smiled sometimes and nodded but never really gave much input into anything. He knew you were still trying to work through everything that happened. In fact, given your reaction, maybe last night was the closest you've ever actually been to death. The jujustu community had become so desensitized to it that even he forgot to check in on how the view of a smoking corpse or the feeling of a blade to your skin may have affected you.

Soon enough the two of you were beginning to hand wash the dishes, Satoru giving Suguru a thankful nod as he guided Mimiko and Nanako to their rooms when they tried to pull Satoru back to their makeshift salon. You and him fell quickly into a rhythm, with you washing something before handing him it to dry, the light over the dining table behind both of you providing enough visibility.

"Geto is a nice man. Those girls seem to appreciate him as well," you murmured, taking Satoru a little by surprise. He didn't expect you to speak up.

"Yeah, he's a good guy," Satoru replied. "A great sorcerer too as much as he is a dad. I'm lucky he's my best friend."

You hummed and smiled to yourself. "That's good."

After a moment, Satoru snickered, "So, you think he's attractive?"

You furrowed your brow, holding the newly washed dish away from him as you turned your face in his direction. "Satoru, that's not funny."

"You're not denying iiiitt~" he sang, smiling wider and pointing at you with the towel.

"No, I don't think that. Why would you say that?" you muttered sharply, handing him the bowl you had in hand before reaching for the soap to scrub the pot. "Well, you two seemed to be chatting it up over here while you were making dinner," he teased, laughing to himself. He didn't even know why he was asking these things. He knew teasing you was normal, but why about this? Why now? Of course he wanted to take your mind off of things but-

"He was talking to me about you, Satoru," you replied, a slightly hardened look on your face. "I don't want you to think that-"

"Think what? That you might have feelings for someone? Shh, it's okay, I won't tell," he whispered with a laugh. You were talking about him? "Really, (Y/N), your secret-"

"Satoru, why are you asking me this?" you interrupted, handing him the last pot. "Why are you..." You shook your head before continuing, opting to walk to the bedroom you two were sharing. "Wait, (Y/N)-" Satoru set the pot into the sink with the towel, his large steps quickly catching up with you as the two of you stepped through the doorway. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." "I know," you murmured, gently sitting on the bed. "I know you're just... trying to take my mind off of things, which I appreciate. But-"

"Yeah, I shouldn't have done it like that, I know. That was a kinda dick way to do it," Satoru said, scratching that back of his head. You grit your teeth, folding your hands in your lap. "It's okay... I understand." After a pause you added. "I've been worried for Sugar this whole time." "She's okay. We just want to be sure she's safe before we can have custody of her again. And don't worry, Shoko has cats of her own. She knows how to treat them good." Satoru made sure it was Shoko that got to examine Sugar and not someone that would cut her open and dissect her like some common animal. You nodded along to his words, staring at the wall ahead.

"I... the other sorcerers at Jujustu Tech. They wanted me to ask some things... if that's okay. If not we can wait till later-" he began. Maybe be shouldn't bring this up now. "Didn't they already ask me questions?" you muttered. "Yes, but..." Satoru kneeled in front of you were you sat, taking your hands in his. You almost had to stop yourself from letting out a laugh at the butterfly clips still in his hair. "(Y/N), it's imperative that you answer me honestly when I ask this."

Your eyes met his, your eyes narrowing in confusion. "Ask what? What more is there to ask?"

"Was there anyone that visited you during the time I was gone? Anyone that normally would not be at the house?"

Your mouth opened to speak, the answer clearly on the tip of your tongue. "W... why? Do you think they did this? How? Was it not somehow that woman that you-" "I don't know, (Y/N), but what I do know is that if there was anyone you would have known about being on our property that is otherwise not welcome, they may have had a hand in destabilizing our wards, and I want us to be safe so we can return." Satoru squeezed your hands once more. "Was there anyone?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. Once. Twice. You sighed. "My brother, Keisuke."

Your brother? "Why did he come?"

You shook your head. "No, Satoru, he would never do anything like this-"

"(Y/N), I'm not saying he did but I need to start somewhere so that I can ensure that you and our home is safe. You understand, right?" Why were you so defensive suddenly? What did your brother do there?

"It wasn't his fault. There was no way he would have had any involvement! He wouldn't want to-"

Satoru stood. "You were almost kidnapped! You could have died-"

"And so what if I did!"

A beat.

"What."

Your hands clasped over your mouth. You looked like you were about to apologize. Satoru stood. "(Y/N)." Your fists clenched. You were probably holding back tears. "(Y/N). Don't you ever, ever, say something like that about yourself." "I'm sorry-" "Don't apologize," he hushed, now moving to sit beside you, an arm around your shoulders. "Just... you don't have to." The two of you paused for minutes, not saying a word. He suddenly began to feel guilty, both for his teasing and for pressing you for details when the attack barely happened 24 hours ago. Hell, you could have died not too long ago, and now he was treating you like this. "We can talk about this later," Satoru murmured. "It was wrong of me to bring it up." "No... it's alright," you whispered, hands coming to fold in your lap. "I'm sorry for arguing with you and... for my outburst." "Don't sweat it." "Is this what's its like to have an argument? And to then forgive immediately after?" "Yeeeep." He added a little pop at the end. "It feels wrong. But civil. But... wrong." "Well, that's because most arguments just feel wrong. I like to think of them as passionate conversations, albeit sometimes with more hurtful comments or name calling." Satoru stood and started walking to the bathroom. "But we didn't call each other names..." you murmured. "We can right now if you want stinkybutt," he replied, turning to lean against the doorway while crossing his arms. He nodded in your direction. "Okay then... uhm... asswipe." "Woah, bringing out the big guns I see." Satoru placed a hand to his chest as if hurt, a playful grin on his face. "I didn't even know you knew how to curse, old lady!" You dropped your mouth in a playful shock. "Well, I'm just imitating the best potty mouth I know, pompous bitch!" He snickered before firing back. "You little asshole!" "Bastard!" "Fucker!" "Dick!" "Motherfucker!" "Dick for brains!" "Pretty girl..." Your next insult halted in your throat, his little purr of those two words forcing a red shade to your cheeks. Before you could react, he spun into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it with a click. "H-hey, that wasn't fair!" you protested, getting up from where you sat on the bed. "What?! Can't talk right now I'm taking a shit!" he yelled back, the shower turning on immediately afterward. You just shook your head, smiling as you sighed. You changed into your nightgown, figuring you might as well lay down and wait until he was done so you could brush your teeth. Was it really only a few minutes ago that the two of us were fighting? The conversation shifted so quickly. Did he do that on purpose? While almost any argument you had ever had ended quickly, it was almost never forgotten nor forgiven. Its reminders sometimes stayed on your body for days at a time. Either way, you were grateful. He was so good at distracting you from things, even things like near death experiences. Distractions. Was this what this was? You still went to bed feeling lonely each night, but the next day he made you forget that you ever did. Maybe that was all you needed, all that anyone ever needed. To go to bed lonely, wake up, interact, forget, and then remember. You spent so much of your days alone before all of this. Does this mean you've become something normal? Perhaps. But was it still normal to feel incomplete?

You were so busy contemplating and staring at the wall that you didn't notice Satoru beginning to sit on the other side of the bed beside you, hair free of butterfly clips. Your thoughts broke when you heard the bed creak, making you turn over to face him.

His shirtless body was backlit from the brightness of his phone screen as he sat on the edge of the mattress. As he scrolled, you quickly noticed the faint scars that were littered across the impressive expanse of his back. Were they from trainings, or from actual battles? Either way, you were surprised that he had any at all because of his technique. You assumed this whole time that his skin would be completely unblemished from any kind of visible injury. Not that you're thinking much about his skin...

Your thoughts were broken again when he plugged his phone into the charger on the nightstand and turned it off. Despite your panic, you didn't move from how you were laying.

Satoru didn't seem to mind. He stretched his arms above his head, shoulders and biceps flexing, as he turned and got underneath the covers. He snickered when he found you already looking at him. "See something you like?" Satoru muttered deeply, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows for effect.

He didn't need a light to be on to be able to see the color on your cheeks, but he chuckled as you tried to turn away all flustered. "Hey now, I'm just joking. I'm sorry." Satoru placed a hand to your shoulder, motioning for you to face him again. The skin of your shoulder was surprisingly cold, but that didn't take away from its silken feel. You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek as you murmured an apology.

You'd never shared a bed with anyone in your life. It was odd, but with Satoru, you didn't feel too uncomfortable luckily. You've heard horror stories about other women sharing beds with their husbands. The snoring, the problems with space, being too hot or too cold, too many blankets and pillows or too little, the types of mattresses they preferred, etc. While you did share a bed with him last night, there was no telling if he had any of those issues since you were already asleep when he came to bed.

However, you did remember how he looked when he was still asleep after you woke up. It was... too peaceful of a look for a man that had just killed for you less than 24 hours before.

He had killed for you. And now you were sharing a bed with him.

Killed. Well, you knew way before marrying him that he had done such before. Why does this suddenly change your perception of him?

Yet despite that, you assumed he was a sound sleeper, which you could be thankful for even though you probably will not have to share a bed with him much in the future. It's quite interesting that an attack is what led to you both doing so for the first time. You'd like to wonder what would have had to happen for you to see him asleep like that without the current contexts.

What a weird thing to think about.

"Goodnight (Y/N), sweet dreams." "Goodnight Satoru."

Before long, you were realizing it was going to be very hard for you to fall asleep. You tried counting your breaths to focus on doing so, something that would usually have you out in no time.

You counted up to 256 before deciding to give up.

Your head turned to where Satoru was laying with his back to you, his breaths steady. Once again, your eyes caught the scars of his back that barely peaked over what the blanket covered.

You let out a heavy breath.

"Satoru." "Mmmm?" He's awake. "How did you get the scars on your back?" "Oh y'know," a yawn, "mostly sparring and whatnot. Maybe a curse here or there." "Oh." "Oh?"

You paused a little. "I thought... your technique prevented others from being able to touch you. I thought that..." "That I was indestructible?" He chuckled, his voice low. You shifted a little. "I'm sorry, I-" "No, it's fine. You don't have to apologize for asking." After a moment, Satoru added, "As you probably... have noticed, it's important for me to be able to defend myself without my technique to aid me, to prepare for any worse case scenario. Lot of these are curtesy of Suguru being too rough on me, heh. But... I was never always a full expert when it came to my technique, contrary to what most people believe. I had to become an expert. These just show part of the path to doing it."

You hummed in response.

"But don't worry, they don't call me The Strongest for nothing. I'm fully capable of protecting-" Satoru paused when he felt your fingers brush his shoulder.

Just before he could register it, you quickly moved them away, withdrawing your hand beneath the covers. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate."

"No," he murmured, shifting himself to face you now, his head propped up by a hand as he reached to grab your hand and place it right over his heart. You stared at where his palm held your fingers against the expanse of his chest, his skin warm and dare you say inviting.

"(Y/N)," he whispered, your open gaze locking onto his sincere one, "just because my technique prevents others from touching me doesn't mean I don't like to be touched."

Your mouth slightly agape, you took in the planes of his handsome face against the rays of a streetlight coming in from the window, hitting the blinds and creating stripes against his face in the dark. One of those stripes hit his eyes, which you took in first, and made your way down, observing the clean slope of his nose, his shaped lips, down the curve of his neck to your hand and back up.

The way Satoru looked at you then, he knew. He knew that you needed him, but not in some passionate or carnal way, but in a way that someone wants cream and sugar in their coffee, or a candle in their book nook on a rainy day. Something familiar, yet more. And even if he had just killed someone yesterday for you, to protect you, he was still the person that you found comfort in each day. That made you feel somewhat worth something more than a last name a potential asset.

"You look cold." The timbre of his voice could have probably warmed you from the inside out, but only for a moment.

"Yes, I think so."

"Then c'mere pretty girl."

Did Satoru expect last night to go the way it did? Definitely not. But when he felt you take the little extra initiative to barely touch his back, he knew he had to make it go that way.

He didn't anticipate or really want anything more than just the cuddling. It didn't take long for you to warm up and fall asleep, listening to the sound of his heart. He was surprised that you didn't ask why it was beating so fast, let alone fall asleep as swiftly as you did while having to hear it.

But he was right, your body did fit perfectly against his. Your head had rested against him sweetly, cushioned by that spot between his chest and shoulder. His arms had wrapped around you, his hands finding purchase on your back and waist. The position of his chin on your head gave him perfect access to kiss your forehead if he wanted to, but he didn't want to push the boundaries too far.

Okay, maybe he ended up giving you two anyway. He tried to hold out and lasted probably about 30 minutes. He just couldn't help it! Not to mention, you smelled so good-

He was half tempted to give you another one right now as you two lay here the next morning, with you still blissfully unconscious. On the nightstand behind you two, your phone began to buzz with a call. Whoever was trying to get you awake right now could go to hell. He didn't want this moment to end.

However, even after the person had called you another time, and then proceeded to leave four more texts, Satoru figured he would see what the fuss was about.

He strained to reach behind him, careful not to disturb your slumber, as he grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Turning it on, he smiled at the already established lock screen of Sugar before noticing the messages.

Keisuke Kamo

Hey, glad to hear you're alright. Just heard about the attack last night.

Keisuke Kamo

I know I had just visited recently, but we need to talk. In person, preferably.

Keisuke Kamo

Just call me back when you can so we can set something up. Please bring Gojo Satoru with you too.

Keisuke Kamo

Please (Y/N). This is serious...

Turns out Satoru wouldn't be able to enjoy your brief solace for much longer.

Tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby--vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox @tqd4455 @stxrrielle @rebirth-of-destruction @yoichiislovie @thesoftugly @gojonegs

thanks for being patient <3

[occasional-yan-stuff]

He was always there. Every time you went back, he was always there. You don't know what kept pulling you back to that abandoned old house down the road. Maybe it was the mystery of the place that enchanted you, maybe it was the strange beauty of all the old, worn-out surfaces, or maybe you just couldn't stand to abandon him.

The kids in your neighborhood said the house was haunted, but that couldn't have been right, could it? You were old enough to know that ghosts weren't real, and yet... he was always there. Always sitting at the grand piano in the ball room in that exact same position, always acting as though he hadn't seen you in years whether you'd only been gone for a few months or even just a few minutes.

"I thought I would never see you again!" flinging his arms around your neck with the exact same intonation every time, but ghosts weren't real. You knew ghosts weren't real.

Sometimes you'd catch him staring at a rectangle on the wall that was slightly less faded than the rest of the wall paper. Around the third time you saw him doing this you finally decided to ask.

"What are you looking at?"

"This is a painting of my mother," he responded. It wasn't, of course, but you decided not to push the question.

There were also times when you'd see him blow on the golden candelabra that sat on the little table by the window. The candles were melted to stumps and never had flame in them when he did this. When he did it the first time it resulted in a cloud of dust that he didn't seem to notice, and when you asked about it he simply took your hand and said "more romantic lighting, my dear." You asked him what he meant but all he did was smile at you as the two of you started dancing.

It always ended with dancing. The world- or possibly your mind- filled up with music that you could find the source of, and he took you, and he twirled you, and the hours fell away into nothing. By the end of it he always begged you to stay with him, pleading for you to remain in his home forever. It was a cute little game between the two of you... you think.

One night you actually did try to sleep in one of the old creaky beds in the mansion, but it was far too cold and the whole thing made you itchy and uncomfortable. You checked the other bed rooms but there was no sign of him. Finally, you returned to the ball room. Even at that ungodly hour he was still there, sitting at his piano. You called out his name and he turned around in surprise. "I thought I would never see you again!" And so the cycle repeated and the two of you danced the night away.

He never seemed to like it when you talked about your friends.

"We see each other so little, my dear," he'd say with crossed arms, "can you not lend a bit more attention to me instead?" The way he pretended to be grumpy always made you chuckle. He was pretending, wasn't he?

Each time he held you, he acted like it was the last time he ever would. He took in every part of you, your smell, the feeling of your skin, everything. There had even been a few times that he had licked your neck but he always denied it when you asked. When you were just getting to know him, he would always cry when you wouldn't kiss him.

"What has changed?" he would ask, "have I done something wrong?"

"What are you talking about?" you would respond, "we've never kissed before."

"Oh, how I hate when you play this game!" was all he would say in response. Always the same intonation. Always the same expression. Always the same.

You started going back more and more, longer and longer. You always felt tired after leaving the mansion. Fatigued, like waking up from a dream. Sometimes you would return home with wrinkles you didn't remember having or a band aid you could have sworn you never put on. Scrolling through your friends' social media pages, you'd see pictures with you in them. Pictures you didn't remember being taken.

every time you went back things seemed just a bit different. The candles grew taller and taller, the wall paper more vibrant, and a painting of a woman was placed on the wall. When did that get there? Every night was just the same. You danced, you kissed, you loved. It was paradise. He was paradise.

One night, after a particularly long visit, you returned home. You hadn't wanted to but you had a life outside the mansion... didn't you? You stepped back into your home and a man was there, a man you had never met. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you.

"so, how was work?"

No. This was wrong. You pushed him off of you and rushed into the bathroom. Your eyes fell onto the mirror and you clapped your hand over your mouth. The person staring back at you was near unrecognizable. It was you, sort of, but at the same time not at all. You stared down at your shaking hands. Your left had a golden ring on one of its fingers. You hadn't put that there. You hadn't put that there! This was all wrong. All so very very wrong. Tears played at the corners of your eyes as you rushed out of the house and back down the road. The mansion was the only place you felt safe anymore. The mansion was the only place you were yourself anymore. You ran and you ran all the way to the ball room. Your breath was heavy and sweat glued your hair to the ball room.

"I never thought I would see you again!"

The night played out as it always did. You danced, you kissed, you loved. Just as always, he begged you to stay. This time you said yes.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Embrace Me

(1-1)

Short story # 26

Gif NOT mine.

Paring - Commander Mills X Plussize!Reader

Summary - Your simply trying to relax after a grueling day of hiking, across the tundra of an unknown planet. And Commander Mills is absolutely determined to relax with you, his copilot and long time crush.

Rating - SFW (It gets a bit spicy, but nothing occurs.)

Reading time (roughly) - 12 minutes

Year posted - 2025

"Can we please rest for the night? I feel like I've got blisters on my blisters." (Y/n) whined at her Commander, who was walking a short distance ahead of her. He sighed heavily through his nose, glancing back at his copilot over his shoulder. "We should find shelter first, it's going to storm tonight." He argued. (Y/n) groaned in response, her feet were killing her, and her gear grew heavier and heavier with each step. "Why did we have to crash on such a miserable planet." She complained, as she adjusted the strap of her plasma rifle higher onto her shoulder. Mills chuckled softly at her words, silently agreeing with her assessment of this uncharted planet. "I would offer to carry you." Mills said as he glanced back, smirking at how quick (Y/n) perked up. "But you're awfully heavy." He teased playfully, laughing when he felt her throw a handful of berries at his back. "That's not nice." She huffed at him, feeling a tad bit insecure, despite knowing he was only joking. Mills turned to observe her expression, and before he could see the look of insecurity on her face, (Y/n) pulled up a mask of playful bitterness. Even going as far as to childishly stick her tongue out at him. Again he simply chuckled and turned back to continue leading the way.

Almost an hour later they finally found a suitable place for shelter, and in the nick of time. As soon as they'd sat their packs down within the cave, it was as if the heavens had simply opened up, and a downpour of rain fell from the darkening sky. "Finally." (Y/n) sighed as she plopped down onto the ground, carefully pulling her boots off with a hiss of discomfort. While Mills on the other hand began setting up a perimeter defense, or rather a security system. The rhythmic hum of the security devices was soothing in a way, knowing that as long as they remind humming this calm tone, then they were completely safe. "Here." Mills offered (Y/n) his canteen of fresh water. "Thanks." She excepted it gratefully, taking a generous sip before pushing it back towards him. "I'm okay, drink up, you need it." He assured her, and though she knew it wasn't, it felt like another jab at her weight. "Okay." She muttered softly, her eyes unable to hide her sadness, as she looked down at the canteen in her hand. "Hey are you okay?" Mills asked, instantly picking up on her sudden shift in mood. (Y/n) willed herself to perk up a bit, a false smile stretching across her face smoothly. "Yeah just tired is all." She lied through her teeth, and while Mills looked like he wanted to say something, he simply nodded his head, and turned his attention to rummaging through his pack.

(Y/n) took a few more generous sips of the water, and as she sealed the lid, Mills held his hand out to her. "You should eat something." He said as he opened his palm to her, inside his hand lay a chocolate bar, her personal favorite chocolate at that. A nagging voice in the back of her mind taunted her, echoing that he chose chocolate specifically because of her weight. "I'm not really all that hungry, just wanna rest is all." She lied again, ignoring the hungry twist in her gut. "We've been walking all day, you need to keep up your energy." Mills insisted, placing the chocolate into her and, and closing her fingers around it. "Sure." She muttered softly, wishing the ground would just open up beneath her, and swallow her whole. Mills smiled at her, pleased that he had been able to snag a few of her favorite chocolate bars, before they left the tattered ships kitchen behind. (Y/n) had peeled back the wrapper, and was taking tentative bites of her chocolate. Her eyes following Mills as he refilled the canteen with rain water, and then retrieved a snack for himself. A preserved granola, high in protein, low in fat... And sugar. She felt the urge to throw up, but swallowed the knot of bile building in her throat. Unable to take it anymore she shoved the rest of the chocolate bar into her pack, and lay back against the hard dirt covered ground. Her eyes swirled with insecurities and sadness, as she stared at the roof of the cave.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mills asked suddenly, observing her with concerned eyes. He'd never seen her act like this, and while it wasn't everyday they crash landed on an uncharted planet, he worried that there was something else bothering her. "I'm perfectly fine." (Y/n) insisted as she closed her eyes. "You know..." He started as he sat aside the rest of his food. "It's okay to be scared right now." (Y/n) took a deep breath through her nose, and crossed her ankles. "I'm pretty shaken up myself." He admitted in a soft reassuring voice, watching as she simply laced her fingers together on top of her soft belly. Mills swallowed thickly as he observed her, wandering if she felt as soft and cozy as she looked. "I'm just tired okay." She insisted with a bit of a bite at the end. "Okay." Was all Mills could bring himself to say, and for a moment his attention was drawn outside, as a crack of thunder rumbled menacingly in the darkness. When his eyes cast back to (Y/n) he noticed how she shivered slightly when a gust of wind blew through the cave. He smiled faintly at the sight of her, noticing how peaceful she appeared to be in this moment. Without thinking Mills crossed the distance to kneel at her feet. She didn't seem to notice his proximity, or she simply chose to ignore it all together. However when he gently grasped her ankles, and uncrossed her legs she reacted. "What are you doing?" Was all she said, her eyes still closed.

"You're cold." Mills stated as a matter of fact, before pushing her legs up until her knees bent. As he slotted himself between her legs, and pressed himself as close to her as he could, she opened her eyes. "That doesn't answer my question, what the hell are you doing?" She asked and though her tone sounded annoyed, her eyes betrayed her and bared her curiosity to him. "Keeping you warm." Mills stated casually as he hooked (Y/n)'s legs to rest comfortably around his waist. Afterwards he took ahold of her wrists, and pulled her arms up to lay beside her head, his hands engulfing her own, and keeping her locked in place. "A blanket would have sufficed." (Y/n) uttered as their noses brushed from their close proximity. "I was cold too, and we only have the one blanket. You know after you lost yours yesterday." He teased her with a grin on his face. "You're so annoying sometimes, you know that?" (Y/n) huffed as she tried wiggling free, only to freeze with a squeak, when she felt just how much of him was pressed against her. Mills hummed at the feeling and nuzzled his face into her neck, inhaling her natural musk after sweating most of the day. (Y/n) wanted to wiggle away, feeling insecure about how she smelled. "You're so soft." Mills muttered against her ear, his plush lips brushing against her skin. (Y/n) wasn't sure what to say, and despite herself, she felt herself relaxing beneath him.

"I've always wanted to be this close to you." He admitted in a soft whisper, his words making (Y/n)'s heart flutter. "Close? Mills you're more than just close. You're invading, suffocating, practically swallowing me." (Y/n) said as she made a mental note of how much his body was caging her entire body against the ground, how easily he covered her as if she was just a small thing. Mills pulled back a little, just enough to look at her face. "I can move." He said as he shifted to get off of her, however before he could move far, (Y/n) locked her legs around his hips, keeping him in place. "Don't you dare." She huffed at him in warning. With a smile he relaxed, and nuzzled his face into her neck again. "There is something you can do for me Commander." Mills shuttered at the use of his title. "Anything." He promised. "Let me feel all of you, crush me under your weight. Please." (Y/n) said in a breathless tone, finding herself desperate to feel him everywhere. Mills huffed against her neck finding desire flowing through his body, at the thought of truly laying on her. And without needing to be told twice he relaxed further, and little by little he dropped his full weight onto her. (Y/n)'s breathing became a bit shallow at the new weight on her ribs, but the moan that passed her lips was divine music to his ears. "Holy fuck that feels amazing." She breathed out, her fingers flexing and unflexing around his much larger ones.

"Keep making sounds like that, and we aren't going to get much rest." Mills murmured against her skin, moving so the bridge of his nose ran along the length of her jaw. "Fuck resting." (Y/n) huffed as she rocked her hips up, and moaning at the feeling of the curve of his cock nestled firmly against her. "You're going to be the death of me." Mills uttered as he pushed his groin against her, a groan bubbling in his throat when he felt just how much warmer she was there. (Y/n)'s breathing had become a bit more shallow, and sensing her body couldn't handle the extra weight, Mills pulled up just enough to ease the pressure off of her. (Y/n) grunted in annoyance however, and pushed her chest up to meet his. "Lay against me." She begged. "I don't want to hurt you." Mills argued before planting a feather light kiss against her forehead. "I don't care, I want you to crush me." She admitted before pushing forward to kiss him. Mills melted into the kiss, and slowly eased his weight onto her once more, greedily swallowing the moan that she gave to him. As the kiss deepened Mills began to slowly rock against (Y/n)'s clothed heat, offering them both some relief, and yet making them both crave more. "I want you to ride me." He admitted then they parted for air. "I thought I was too heavy." (Y/n) said, with a twinge of sadness in her voice. Understanding now the mistake he'd made earlier, Mills finally realized why she had been acting odd.

"Bullshit." He argued, and before she could say anything else. He hoisted them both up off of the ground, holding (Y/n) up by the fat of her thighs as if she weighed nothing at all. She had gasped in surprise and the sudden movement, and squeezed herself closer to him, afraid he would drop her. "You're so fucking perfect." Mills murmured as he rest his forehead against hers, allowing her body to lower just enough to keep his cock snug against her clothed sex. "Oh my god." (Y/n) panted almost breathlessly, as fear and desire coursed through her veins. Without thought she grinded down against him, her arms tightening around his shoulders, and her eyes squeezed shut. "So beautiful." Mills breathed out before kissing her once more, teeth and tongue clashing in a desperate symphony of love and desire. His large hands squeezed at her plush thighs, making him groan at how soft and squishy she felt. "I love you, fuck I love you." Mills declared against her lips, as he continued to grind against her. "Please let me show you how much I love you." He panted heavily, her moan going right to his core. "Please please please please." He rambled over and over, desperately wanting to make her feel good, and show her just how much he loves her. "Y-yes." (Y/n) nodded her head vigorously in agreement. "S-show me how m-much you love me Commander." She stammered over her words, her entire body buzzing with desire. "Thank you thank you thank you." Mills babbled as he began pulling at her clothes, desperate to see all of her body, and to finally get to worship every inch of her skin, and her very soul.

God I loved this movie... I mean sure it had some plot holes, but I could care less. The amount of grunting and heavy breathing we get to hear Adam make is divine... When I first watched this movie, I was wearing headphones, and oh my god he was killing me with those sounds. Anyhow I hope you enjoyed this one.

[chaotic-orphan]

Whumpuary No.7

Unfair fight // Insomnia // “no one is coming”

This was a long one, hoi boi🫡 but she’s done…

“Hero…” Second in command said softly. Hero didn’t reply. She just kept walking after their team across the rocky terrain to the shelter that Navigator spotted a few kilometres back. “Hero.”

“What?” Hero asked. There was nothing sharp about the question. She didn’t snap. She didn’t sigh or demand an answer. It was empty. A sound that carried no meaning behind it. She was tired. She was beyond tired. She just wanted… she just…

“We’ll get them back.” Second told her. Hero didn’t reply. She just kept going. That’s all she could do. Keep walking. Keep breathing. Keep going until they somehow managed to rescue Vigilante from Supervillain.

Nobody that Supervillain took had ever been seen again, nevermind… nevermind— she buried that thought under a hatch in her mind and padlocked it down. Getting emotional wouldn’t get Vigilante back after all… no… she just put one foot in front of the other. It was easy. It was quiet. It was…

She was…

Leader, Navigator and Medic had dropped their packs and started setting up a camp, rolling out their bedding on the smooth rock. Rogue and Youngest were already gone, to fetch some wood for a fire no doubt when Hero and Second arrived.

Hero disengaged from the group and went to the cliff edge outside the shelter and settled her back against the rock of the cave. She heard the usual routine happening behind her, without her.

Then he appeared like an apparition in front of her. Translucent but full formed, a shadow of Villain with his self-satisfied smirk and gleaming eyes. Hero didn’t say anything as he approached her.

“Hello darling. You’re looking worn, drained.” Hero looked through him, literally, as he crouched down and pressed a phantom hand to Hero’s cheek. She wished she couldn’t feel it. She knew he was able to not let her feel it, but he was a sadistic fucker. “My my, have you been sleeping, pet? Your bags have bags,” he noted, pulling down her eyelid.

Hero batted his hand away, but her hand went straight through his projection and she huffed out a breath and looked away as Villain laughed.

“You know damn well why I’m not sleeping.”

Villain released her and sat in front of her instead. He tilted his handsome head to the side. “Is it Vigilante, hmm? The guilt of knowing you could have saved them but didn’t.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh shush. You know how much I enjoy our little chats, Hero,” he said, waving her insult away. “Besides,” his eyes sharpened. “We both know what else I could spend my time doing if you don’t feel like talk—“”

Hero lurched forward a hand out that went through Villain’s visage. “No! No! I— I wanna talk.”

Villain grabbed Hero’s hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His eyes danced with a gleeful satisfaction. “So desperate, Hero. So needy. But don’t worry. I’ll stay with you. We can talk all night long.”

Hero wanted to punch him. She wanted to cry and scream and wrap her hands around his throat because she didn’t know how much longer she could take this. The taunting, the teasing, every night, once the sun set, Villain would appear to her and force her to chat with him through the night so she couldn’t sleep. The first few days it was fine. She could catch an hour before and after Villain appeared, and she was fine. But they were travelling for two weeks now, and Hero had had to start sleeping by day to the annoyance of their teammates.

The worst part was she couldn’t even tell them about Villain, or Villain promised he’d make Vigilante pay and let Hero see all of the torture for herself.

How many times had she debated telling her team? How many times has she wanted to scream about it to somebody, anybody, but Villain somehow sensed that too after the fourth day.

He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back after she challenged him. “Maybe Vigilante’s life isn’t enough of a threat, hmm? You know… Youngest in your team seems quite—”

“No!” Hero screamed, struggling against a ghost.

Villain leaned down, craning Hero’s neck all the way back but she didn’t drop eye contact with him as he hissed: “then behave.”

Dinner came and went. Hero denied any food. She felt too sick to eat. Almost woozy from the insomnia, and when she did eat it was like she was pumped of adrenaline that only led her to crashing later.

“Hero… you should really eat. You’ll turn into skin and bones if you don’t,” Villain chided with a smile.

When it came time to sleep, Hero said she’d take first watch. Leader came out and stood above her. “Hero, no.”

“Oooh,” Villain cooed from behind Hero, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. “Your boss is so forceful Hero. But tell him you insist.”

Hero shivered as the phantom hand settled on the nape of her neck. “I- I insist,” she said quietly.

Medic came out after Leader.

“Hero, get inside. We need to cover a lot of ground tomorrow and we can’t have you dozing off when the sun comes up again! We’re losing time to save Vigilante.”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Hero cried, hands flying to her hair and pulling. “I— I want to save Vigilante more than anything.”

“She’s right you know,” Villain purred, standing behind Medic. He started whispering in Medic’s ear, loud enough for Hero to hear. “She wants to save poor Vigilante more than her circadian rhythms demand.”

“Please!” Hero cried. “I— I- I need to stay awake.”

Villain’s violet eyes flashed at Hero over Medic’s shoulder. “That’s right. Good girl. You tell them.”

Hero swallowed hard. Leader frowned and looked over his shoulder to where Hero stared, almost as if in a trance. Medic found his gaze, erudite eyes coloured with concern.

Leader looked back at Hero.

“Alright.” Leader said. Hero relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief that seemed to be the only thing holding her up. She swayed as the world spun around her and would have fallen if not for Leader catching her halfway to the ground.

“Please,” Hero said with a breath, not entirely sure she didn’t blackout for a second. “Please, trust me,” she pleaded.

Leader nodded and sat her back against the rock. “I trust you, Hero. I know losing Vigilante has been hard on you, but there’s some leftover food and you will eat some of it if you won’t sleep, do you understand?”

“I—” Hero protested. Leader spoke over her.

“Or I’ll have Rogue take watch and ask Medic to force—”

“Okay! Okay!” Hero rushed out, panic seizing her heart. Leader smiled and tucked her hair out of her face.

“Good. I’ll grab you a plate. And you will eat it all, Hero.”

Hero nodded stiffly. “Okay.”

The two disappeared back into the cave. Hero could hear Medic berating Leader as they retreated but she didn’t really care about what they said anyways. Villain walked back in front of her and plopped himself down in front of her. His eyes alight with a dangerous amusement.

“You’re so good at taking orders, Hero.” Villain purred. “So pliant and malleable like this,” he said. He propped his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand. “Oh, if only I thought of taking Vigilante sooner. Maybe the heroes wouldn’t have given us as much trouble when you’re distraught and sleep deprived.”

Hero didn’t answer. A hot tear dripped from her eye onto her cheek. Maybe that was answer enough. She was going mad, she knew. Villain was driving her mad, making her seem crazy, torturing her for his own cruel enjoyment.

“Oh Darling,” Villain cooed as Hero started to cry silently, her shoulders shaking up and down and letting out silent sobs that sounded only like gasps of breath. He moved towards her and pulled Hero into his arms, his legs on the outside of hers as he pushed her head into his shoulder. She didn’t move. “Darling, shush. Crying will waste so much of your energy.”

Hero continued to cry. “Oh you poor sweet angel. There, there. I know it’s hard,” he said, patting Hero’s back. “I know, pet. But you’re just so stubborn, hmm? This can all be over if you like.”

Hero stiffened in Villain’s arms. “W-what?” She asked wetly, mucus clogging her words.

Villain pulled Hero back and smiled down a kind smile at her, but his horrible eyes betrayed him. “Darling, have you had enough?”

Hero nodded. Villain softened. “Words, doll.”

“Y-yes,” Hero sniffed. Then she jumped a little and shook her head. “But— but I don’t! I don’t want you to hurt Vigilante, please!”

Villain crushed her into his chest again. “Oh I know you don’t. I know you’d do anything for them, wouldn’t you?”

Hero nodded against Villain’s chest. “Words,” he said.

“Yes.”

“I know, darling. So how about we make a deal?”

Hero pulled back a little and stared into the monsters violet eyes. “A- a deal?”

It was a bad idea. Even in her state she knew it was a bad idea, but what else could she do?

“Yes,” Villain said, phantom fingers wiping away Hero’s tears. “A deal. A trade. You for Vigilante.”

All warmth drained from Hero’s body. She didn’t recoil or so much as flinch, she just stared at Villain who sat drinking in every minuscule muscle twitch across her face.

“What?”

“I asked Supervillain already. He said he was fine with the trade, and would put you under my care just like Vigilante is. But I wouldn’t torture you, sweet thing. We would chat, and be like this,” he said, as he tucked a piece of Hero’s hair behind her ear. “Together. In person. You won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll release Vigilante and you won’t have that guilt plaguing your mind either.”

Hero’s mouth went incredibly dry, like she was inhaling glass. “Will— will you l-let me… will—” Hero fretted, “I- I need to sleep.”

“As soon as you’re in my arms, darling, my real arms I’ll let you sleep, hmm? Would you like that?”

Hero nodded. Her cries turned into a sudden sob she couldn’t catch. “Pl-please… please. I- I would. Ple—”

“Shush, shush, shush. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll do the rest.”

This time, Hero recoiled. “N.. no. You can’t— my team is… my team is here and—”

“Okay,” Villain mused. “Then pick a spot you know, where you can slip away and I’ll come pick you up.”

“And let Vigilante go?” Hero asked, hope colouring every word. Villain shook his head. Hero deflated.

“Once I have you we can talk about Vigilante’s release. I don’t want any nasty surprises in case you try to ambush me with your team.”

God, Hero didn’t even think of that… she was drained. Wholly and completely, her body on autopilot and her mind switched off.

“Okay…” Hero murmured. “Okay… I can meet you by the ruins to the old church in the black valley.”

Villain nodded. “I think I know that area. Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

Hero stiffened. “I- I won’t be able to go until they’re asleep.”

Villain chuckled. A warm, hearty sound. “I know, sweet thing. It will just take me some time to get there so I’ll trust you and leave you to find your way.”

Hero sat out of Villain’s embrace, pulling her sleeve over her hand and wiping her cheeks. “O-okay.”

When Hero arrived at the old church a car was waiting for her. A silhouette of a figure she knew too well was waiting, perched against the passenger side door. Hero froze in place.

Oh god.

Oh god.

What was she doing?

This man had… he had tortured her psychologically over the last two weeks, playing dirty, fighting unfairly, depriving her of sleep just so he could pull something as horrid as this… something she would never have agreed to if she was of sound mind.

And… oh god. She hadn’t gotten used to the cold feel of his fingers and hands on her, everytime he touched her it was like a zap of electricity, or an icy shock to her system that made her gasp but seeing Villain in person now…

He looked very much real.

Strong too. Stronger than he appeared when he projected himself to her mind and even then he could overpower her.

“You know,” his velvet voice called over the short distance between them. It sounded smoother in person, like melted chocolate in her ears. Warm and soothing. Not the voice of a villain. “In your state, I could always catch you if you tried to run.”

Hero couldn’t move. Her body wouldn’t let her step closer. A cold hand settled on the small of her back and pushed her forward. “There you go, that’s a good girl. Do you still have your bow?”

Hero swallowed. Nodded. “Words, darling,” he purred. Hero trembled.

“Y-yes.”

She was so close now. She could make out some of the features on his face, his long hooked nose, his deep set eyes and his dark hair that fell a little over his eyes she could feel more than see were focused only on her.

“Good. I will need to take that off you for now, but if you behave I will give it back so you can train. Keep your skills up. Would you like that?”

Hero didn’t answer.

Five steps.

Four steps.

Three steps.

Two.

Her heart screamed at her to run, to flee, pumping adrenaline through her body to get her to escape.

But it was too late. Villain put his hand on her cheek. It was warm. Hero couldn’t suppress the flinch.

“Oh you are just an angel, aren’t you?” He whispered. Hero didn’t answer. His eyes went to the road Hero came from. She had the good sense to go around the church so he wouldn’t know which direction her team was. That wasn’t part of the deal. “And any teammates follow you?”

Hero began to shake her head, but stopped, looked at him. Words. “N-no… it’s just me… no— no one else is coming.”

Villain’s smile cut into his face, exposing his white teeth. “Excellent, Hero.”

He took her quiver and bow from her shoulders and opened the door for her to the passenger seat. Hero climbed in. Villain shut the door and walked to the boot, throwing her weapons into the trunk before he climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door.

He pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Hero bristled. “I… I won’t be any trouble, I swear,” she pleaded. “Please, I just… I just want to sleep.”

Villain smiled sympathetically at her. “I know, Hero. I just need to make sure you don’t get any ideas of escape while we drive back to base. Surely you understand?”

Hero’s bottom lip trembled. She bit it to stop from crying and nodded. Her eyelids threatened to drown her if she didn’t close her eyes soon. “Good girl. I’ll just cuff one hand, okay?”

Hero nodded again. Once she was secured and he was sure she couldn’t go anywhere, he nodded and started the engine. When they pulled off, out of the ruins and onto the main road he said: “okay, little Hero. You’ve been so good for me. And good behaviour gets rewarded.”

Hero’s eyes widened. “I can sleep now?”

“Yes darling,” Villain said with a smile in his voice. Hero settled back into her seat, resting her head against the soft, leather headrest.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Villain smiled into the darkness. “My pleasure.”

Hero was asleep before she heard the words, for the first time in two weeks, her mind, blissfully, switched off.

[seenoweevil]

Something about a professors ability to take a project so personal and exciting and turn it into the most soulless uninspiring project you’ve ever done