#I love when drivers do that little sit on objects that are not chairs with their race suits around their waist 😭😭😭

[nico-di-genova]

WSR Britain, 2012

[futureplayboibunnie]

i rewatched the godfather and listened to the entirety of honeymoon by lana del rey so here’s another mafia Miguel O’Hara drabble

-

Objectively, there were so many things wrong in the lifestyle that was gifted to you, but you didn’t feel any kind of way about it. You weren’t the type to fill the silence with empty words.

In this line of business, talking could get you killed.

Your husband wasn’t a good man and he often treated you well. He was the most powerful out of all the 5 families that ruled the underworld and he so happened to have a liking to you. You did love him once, that space where your love for him filled is now blank, a white space etched with a question mark. You didn’t know how to feel about all of it since you were his best kept secret, his secret weapon.

He used you to gain intel on his enemies, being a woman was one thing but being as cunning as you was another. You’d go undercover for him, he’d create an alias, a new passport, a new birth cerificate, a new drivers liscense. Your husband was nothing but thorough. And he needed to be thorough when the O’Hara brothers showed up out of nowhere.

The O'Hara brothers were very successful hitmen, but their business ventures were quiet, they moved in brooding silence in an effort to not draw public attention. Gabriel was more about the tech and was often out of town. Miguel, on the other hand, was dark, moody, he was the brawn, the muscle, the one that had to make all the hard choices all his life.

He couldn’t make heads or tales of who they were and how they so quickly got accepted into all of this and how the 5 families didn’t notice them on their radar. You had never seen your husband this anxious when it came to them, so he needed you to scope.

You were his crown jewel, he knew you could handle yourself. So he created a new alias: you were his new suit tailor. It was supposed to be a two month operation but Miguel took longer than expected to try and get close to you. Probably because you forgot to take off your wedding ring and now you had to make that part of your story. A stupid mistake on your half and now you’re reaping the consequences.

But here you were now.

Waiting for him at dinner at the most regal restraunt you have ever been in, you felt a little intimidated that there were a few security gaurds looming over you slightly as you sat and waited. Jesus, they cleared the whole floor out just for the two of you.

This is the type of intel your husband wanted. Intimate.

-

Miguel saw you through the window before he walked in, there you were sitting so prettily, waiting for him. Pretty silk dress, showing off your legs with those heels that he was surprised you could even walk in.

You were married. He noticed the massive rock on your finger while you pressed down on the lapels of his suit when you first started

Miguel knew you were married and it took a lot of time to prented he cared about it, but he didn’t. Not one bit. He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

He watched as your eyes shot up to see his figure walking towards you, a twinge of nervousness struck at your chest and your fingers started twitching as you felt his gaze simmer into yours. He was wearing the all black suit you made him last week. The sight made your legs buckle but you immediately dismissed the action.

“Salir.” (Leave) Miguel waved his hand and dismissed the guards so that you could both be alone together, the thing he’s wanted to do since he first saw you but you were so…unreadable. So polite and nonchalant, it was galling.

He waited long enough for you, now he wanted to see what your mind held.

“I apologize for being late. Business as usual.” He said coolly as he pulled out his chair to sit down.

Oh? Business?

“Such as? Nothing too serious I hope.” Your replied simply, expertly not giving away that you were digging.

Miguel contemplated your purpose, you were sat there so graceful and poised, so…fucking polite. He almost hated it. “An arms deal, a few of my guns went missing.” He stated huskily, trying to get past this conversation.

You let out an appreciative hum, letting a beat of silence cover you as you retained that knowledge “My husband doesn’t like me playing with guns, we argue about it.” You find yourself explaining your real life issues before your brain could even check it. “I told him men have endless distractions…while we ladies only have shopping and tailoring.” You chuckly dryly, giving him a shy crooked half smile, playing into whatever role of femininity you needed: this time, traditionalist. You wanted to roll your eyes back into your skull. “At least it keeps me at home.”

Miguel couldn’t help but squint his eyes and keep himself locked on you. He thought you were so sweet…and definitely unhappy at home with your husband. He sat quietly for a moment, the tension already laying thick into the atmosphere.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called today.”

“Oh…my husband’s away on a trip. So his friends came over to keep me company. More like keep an eye on me. Your call was the perfect excuse to leave.” You say whistfully, not giving too much away.

Fuck, that was just your knack. You never gave anything away, you were so….puzzling. Miguel traced his fingers over his lips as his stared at you.

Hm.

“Is that right?” He muttered but it definitely wasn’t a question.

“Mhm. It’s a beautiful night tonight, I didn’t want to be surrounded by men who don’t care but a glass of wine would be nice right about now.”

-

You and Miguel ate and talked into the night, the soft piano playing in the background only added to the tension Miguel could barely touch his food, all he could do was stare at you across the candlelit table, urging you, contemplating you. He hadn’t wanted a woman in so long, it was like you were placed in front of him by God himself.

You sipped at your wine as a slightly concerned and defeat look spread across your face. You told him that your husband is a broker with a fraying temper and you were surprised he believed you.

“He asked me about kids. A daughter. He’d always wanted a daughter.” Although you were playing into your character, you couldn’t stop yourself from telling him the issues that were plaguing you in your real life. You disguised it well but it just fell so naturally.

Miguel frowned when he heard the mention of children.

“And?” He tilted his head urging you to continue as he took a sip of his whiskey.

“Well,” You sighed. “With all due respect, she’d be his daughter. And that affords her a certain amount of protection I don’t enjoy.” You pursed your lips as the words strained heavily, seriousness etching at your features. “He’d never hurt a hair on her head. I can’t say the same thing for myself. I won’t leave her alone in the world with him.”

Now this really was getting intimate.

Miguel felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him, he really didn’t like the way you were describing the way he acts and talks to you. He would beat him bloody for the way he treats you. He shook the thought out of his head, he needed to get a grip.

“In my work, moral codes rarely exist but I have one. I don’t hurt women or children, they are absolutely off limits and my men know this and it’s one or the only rules I expect to be firmly stood by.” He said calmly, trying to calm his temper at what you just told him.

Now this is intel. The mental list was getting bigger and bigger.

You smiled shyly as you placed your elbows on the table, looking as whistful as ever. “I sometimes think I’d rather do things on my own. The things I like don’t interest him.” You hated the fact you were telling the truth.

Miguel watched you, his eyes scorching and heated yet cold and steely. A paradox of a man as he listened intently, his ears pricked up.

“What do you like?” His voice was as rich as blue velvet.

Your eyes shot up and blinked for a moment, stilling as you finally registered the words, Miguel felt you swallow thickly. “I like the movies.” You gave him a crooked smile. “He doesn’t go with me so I go by myself. He and his friends only talk business.” You chuckled lightly.

“I don’t like movies either.” Miguel replied gruffly as he downed the rest of his drink. The look on your face spread into contempt, he caught a glimpse of you under all that politeness. And then you snapped it back on like second instinct as you smiled.

“Mr O’Hara you’re too busy to go to the movies. Even this dinner took you about 3 months to schedule. Movies are for people who have far too much time on their hands.” You teased.

Damn.

Miguel just kept staring.

“No its not that….It’s too dark. I’m not a fan of too much darkness.”

Oh?

He doesn’t like the dark?

Your lips parted as a palpable silence settled between you, Miguel was eager to dismiss the situation.

“Would you like another drink?” He grabbed the wine bottle to top you up.

“To keep you company. Alcohol…” You tisked. “Such trivial things…” You muttered quitely.

“If you play close attention to it enough, nothing is too trivial.” Miguel was laser focused on you and all you could do was give him a blank and slightly rattled look.

It was making you feel….things. You can’t feel it, you’re not allowed to feel it.

Miguel watched you as you raised the glass to your lips and took a sip, his eyes travlled to the lipstick stain on the rim as you set it down.

Fuck. Blushed red, a little glossy.

You rotated your head around to still be surprised that no one was actually here.

“Cleared out huh?” You questioned knowingly.

“I value my privacy. And it’s a nice place to talk so no one disturbs us.” He replied back as sauve as ever and you hated the feeling swinging in your chest as they fell from his lips.

The gaze you shared felt like it could last a lifetime, you were both practically eyefucking each other, neither of you blinked until he spoke.

“Your husband works a great deal, eh?” Now he was the one that was prying.

“At what I have no idea. He won’t tell me. I’ve always said that having a man is fine as long as he’s far away from home, right?” You raised an eyebrow, a cunning look filled with hubris and quiet flirtation.

It was like you weren’t even trying to be this sensual.

Miguel’s lips parted as his mouth tugged upwards a little. “Your husband is a broker, yeah?” He wanted to know more about you, about your life.

“If you wanted to know more about him, I’ll bring him along next time. You men always have something to say to each other.”

Miguel hated the idea. Absolutely not. He stayed quiet

“But with women you just make small talk.” You breathed and it halted him in his tracks, the small smirk, the look in your eyes- he wanted what he couldn’t have.

The silences that surrounded you was beating with tension that you thought you once forgot.

You swallowed.

“Small talk like this to me….is a rare treat.”

-

The night went on. Talking. Slight flirting. An ache started to form between your legs and your cunning was also turning into a mix of that and attraction. Your fingers grazed your arm slowly, your lips were getting wettet and your eyelashes seemed to flutter as you watched Miguel talk.

“The men I work with are high ranking officials and lowlives. But they all have the same look in their eyes.”

Yes. This is exactly what you needed to hear.

“And what is that?” You reply simply.

“Fear.”

“Of course.”

“But you’re different, aren’t you? You’re not afraid.” Miguel couldn’t help but comment on you, in this business a woman as polite as you should be on the chopping block but no, there was something about you.

“How about you?” You shot back and as always you disarmed him immediately but he didn’t like to give anyone that sort of power.

No one can catch him off guard.

“You’re smart but not smart enough to know how to catch me out.” Miguel smiled wickedly as he reached for his pack of smokes and pulled out a tab.

Your lips parted as you scanned his face up and down as he put it inbetween his lips. He noticed your mindless yet intent gawk and raised his eyebrows, he took another one out and extended his arm out as his fingers brushed your skin. You stilled and blinked up at him dumbly as his thumb brushed your lips and opened your mouth wider for him to put the cigarette.

His touch was like liquid fire.

You finally caught it and then he took his lighter and lit his and yours up, watching the way your lipstick stained the butt. When you fingers held it, he caught a full view of your wedding ring, it was massive diamond rock held together by golden pearls. His face grew embittered by the sight, his frustration fanned into anger and now his sentiments remained the same.

He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

[ancha-aus]

Ghosts & Medium AU Drabble - First Encounter

Because we all know. I have no self control :D

I don't know if this will become a serie like RealAgeAU.

This drabble is more of a thank you to all the lovely people who interacted with me over this idea and added their own little ideas and headcanons <3 So this is for all of you <3 (also i named Ghost Papyrus Ash because I like the name combination of Dust and Ash. Dust to dust and ashes to ashes kinda deal/joke)

*---------------------*

Dust taps the steering wheel as he drives through the town. Many people shoot his van worried and suspicious looks but he really doens't care that much.

Ash does not agree.

"If they know what is good for them they will stop this idiotic behaviour!" Ash huffs and grumbles as he floats around the top of the van, only his skull and hands available to him in this phantom form. "They are already lucky we are willing to give them our presence!!"

Dust hums as he follows the road "It isn't big of a deal."

Dust stops their van at the end of the road and grabs his laptop. a beat up old model but it works for what he wants. He only uses it for work stuff anyway. he opens his email and checks the address "We are here." he looks up and spots the house the email describes.

Ash huffs but floats near his shoulder "stupid white family who moved into an obviously haunted house again?"

Dust snorts and shrugs "Maybe. The man didn't specify. still." he grins at his brother "wanne bet?"

Ash looks unamused "I don't bet with you anymore."

Dust shrugs "your lose. Either way. I bet that this is the same old story. a white family moved to this very cheap mansion because the father was convinced this change of environment would solve all their issues, which are mostly that he cheated on his wife with his twenty year younger assistant."

Ash huffs unimpressed and just points pointedly at the house "Do your job. What can we expect here?"

Dust sighs but focusses on the house in the distance as he slowly opens his aura and soul for influence. Doing this near a lot of spirits leaves him at the risk of being possessed. which is why he does this only from a large distance and when he doens't sense other spirits nearby.

Dust hums as he focusses "okay... I think this may be a poltergeist? Though a very powerful one." he shoots Ash a look "best you dont go on a recon mission." he turns his driver's chair around and gets up to look through his shelve.

Ash grumbles behind him but doesn't fly off to investigate on his own. Ash as phantom is very stealthily and able to get anywhere he wants. But it leaves him weak to other spirit types.

Dust first grabs the pendant to strenghten Ash, which he tugs away in his scarf. Next he grabs a notebook and pen. An ouija board. a ghost radio.

He considers his tools before also grabbing the EMF meter and a handheld thermometer.

Ash laughs "You don't need those. if you are right and it is a poltergeist you just need to follow the floating and throwing objects to find it."

Dust shrugs "They may not be active. and stop calling your fellow spirits 'it's. it is rude." he gets out of his van and locks it before walking the last bit of the distance towards the house. Ash grumbles unhappily but follows him.

They get to the mansion together and find the family out in the garden. camping. huh. Honestly good idea on their part. just camping just outside the house.

The man had been holding a sniffing girl before catching sight of him.

The man looks excited as he hands the girl to the grown woman. the wife then it seems.

The husband rushes over "You are here! please help us!"

Dust tilts his skull and studies the scene before looking back at husband "hello. How long have you been having this spirit in your lives?"

The man sighs and moves to speak but the wife gets to his side "please love. lets first let our guest sit and we can all tell him what we saw."

Dust tilts his skull at her "Normally people don't believe in what i do."

the wife laughs but looks tired "I didn't believe in ghosts before until my house suddenly got haunted out of nowhere. And the priests we hired started to lose their minds. You get more openminded after that experience."

They end up sitting together in the grass as they explain that this was a house they bought about ten years ago. and that they never had these problems before until a month or so ago. that knives started flying and attacking them and how they couldn't feel safe anymore. How many had tried to demand the ghost to leave or tried to make it leave but nothing worked.

Dust looks at the small list he made and nods "i will need to find out why they dont leave." normally something keeps a spirit anchored to this realm and reality. it is strange that this spirit moved in without having a reason.

or at least it seems like that.

Dust asks if there seems to be a room where the spirit is most active and the family tells him it seems to be the living room though they have also been haunting the master bedroom a lot.

Dust nods and walks towards the front door. Already noticing the presence of the spirit as he gets near. He opens the front door and waits for a moment.

silence. No movement. an unnatural darkness.

Is the spirit taking energy from the environment to get this powerful? Normally they tend to feed on fear or memories. taking it from the environment is rare but not unheard of.

Dust makes sure to keep his voice calm and even "Hello. I am coming in okay?" he waits for a moment before nodding and stepping inside.

The door slams shut behind him and Dust nods "fair enough. can't have a draft form." he glances around. He needs to make a choice. living room or bed room.

He goes towards the living room. That one is generally more socially acceptable to visit on a first visit.

He gets to the room and looks around. It is a mess of furniture thrown over and broken things. The TV is static and everything is lit up with that greyish light.

Dust takes a moment to get comfortable at the coffee table as he sits with his legs crossed on the ground "Hello. I would like to ask you some questions if that is okay."

More silence but no hostile auras around him.

Dust nods and takes out the ways to help the spirit communicate "Do you have a prefered way to speak?" he points at the notebook, the radio and the ouija board.

A laugh in the air and Dust searches for the source. The longer he is near spirits the easier for him it becomes to hear and see them. He can see the outline of the spirit and watches them.

The laughted stops and the spirit floats closer to the offered items. they seem to nudge some of them before huffing.

Dust nods "no preference? we can try to just communicate as is then?"

The other stops and turns to face him. More details are becoming clear to Dust as the spirit remains near. They seem to have been a skeleton before, or they just prefer that form now.

The spirit chuckles and leans on their fist as they lay on their front in the air "sure. sounds fun."

their voice is still a little hard to understand but Dust can manage. He will have a headache after this however. That always happens when he communicates like this with new spirits.

Dust nods before putting the offered tools away before grabbing his own notebook for his personal notes "Hello, do you have a name that i can refer to you with? and do you have a preference in pronounce or gender to be referred with?" and he waits.

The spirit, becoming more and more clear to him, stares at him before speaking with that crackling and static voice "Killer. I am a guy."

Dust nods and notes it down "Killer. Hello. I am Dust. I was hoping you could answer some of my questions." more of a statement but an important one to make.

Killer nods and shrugs as answer. Okay that is good. no obvious hostile air just yet. Killer is also becoming more and more visible the longer he is not hostile. Dust can make out the skeleton with a bright red target in front of his sternum. the sweater and pants he is wearing. most telling however? the dark and empty sockets adn the black tears.

spirit forms usually say a lot about how a spirit died. The best way to make a spirit leave is to help them move on which is about 9 out of 10 times connected to their death.

So... no eye lights... hopeless situation? black tears. very traumatic? that is all he has so far and that is just speculations.

Dust asks his first question "How long have you been a spirit?"

Killer blinks before shooting him a grin "Checking if i am legal? Don't worry! I am well beyond the legal age." and he winks.

Dust blinks as Ash is silent by his side. okay. not the kind of answer he had been expecting. but better than being hostile...

Dust gives a slow nod as he makes a note "so you have been a spirit for a while. how long have you been at this place specifically?"

Killer shrugs as he thinks "little while. a month ish? so i am open to running away wiht you." and he grins at him again.

Ash grumbles angerly behind him "I think a murderous spirit is better than whatever is going on here."

Dust decides to not pay much attention to the flirsts and stay on track "Where were you before you moved here?"

Killer grins "In some other house with other people."

dust nods and continues "Why did you leave that place?"

Killer grins as he leans on his fist. staring at him "They moved and no one new moved in."

Dust frowns and asks "isnt that your aim? By haunting them? To make them leave? To have your own place for just yourself?"

Killer freezes for a moment and seems to grow a bit more static. Then he grins wider and leans closer to him "I mean. I would love to have my own house! Especially as that is seen as hot right? Having your own place." Killer winks at him again "Make sure no one interrupts our alone time?"

Ash makes gagging sounds behind him as Dust notes down 'doesnt want to be alone.'

Dust thinks for a moment before speaking again "You seem very focussed on being near others. does that mean you regret being alone?" just get more information.

Killer grins "The only thing i regret is not meeting you earlier."

Dust hums as he thinks. He doesn't seem to have any regrets. So his death and lingering isn't regret related.

It goes on like this for hours. Dust asking Killer questions and Killer replying with somekind of pickup line or other flirt with tiny bits of informations within those answers.

By the time it is evening Dust has a small list of things that seem to be trauma related but not any closer to actually getting the spirit to move on.

Dust says his goodbye as he moves towards the door only for the door of the living room to slam shut. Dust looks at it before turning back to Killer "Yes? Was there something?"

Killer looks downright panicked "Where are you going? Don't leave!"

yeah that is very obviously trauma related to being alone. maybe left behind? abandoned by someone Killer cared a lot about? Maybe that explains the flirting?

Dust speaks "I was going to go eat and sleep. I need to it to live." and he waits.

Killer frowns as he rubs his arms and eyes the door "And you will be back?"

Dust nods "I was planning on it. If i am welcome."

Killer thinks but nods. the door behind him unlocks and opens and Dust hears a second door do the same in the distance.

Dust nods and leaves the house. he gives the family a quick update that it may take a while longer as he tries to figure this out. then he goes to get his van and park it closer.

This may be a bit of a tricky case after all.

*---------------------*

and then in the end dust never managed to get killer to move on and killer ended up stalkign him instead <3

A drabble for this silly au!! I love seeing everyones ideas and headcanons and i hope this helps you guys to also keep interacting with me about this :D <3

part 2 - New Haunting

[callmemana]

Broken Glass Slipper

Pairing: Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe (Henry “Wolfman” Ruth) x Cinderella!reader

Characters: Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe (Henry “Wolfman” Ruth), Cinderella!reader, stepmother, stepsisters, Margaret (fairy godmother), Adam (carriage driver), Lucifer (the cat), Rick “Hollywood” Neven, Sam “Merlin” Wells

Warnings: Cinderella AU, this is crack, a sort of Cinderella retelling, friends to lovers, evil stepsisters and stepmother, Hollywood the royal servant, Wolfman is an adorable dumbass, reader and Leonard have been friends for years, stepmother is a greedy and cruel woman, reader and Leonard are friends.

Word Count: 2375

A/N: Iceman and Slider are hidden in the crowd (not mentioned but I imagined them in the ballroom). Maverick and Goose were not invited because of some pranks they played on the king in the past (also not mentioned).

Top Gun: Disney AU

As the door clicked shut and the lock sounded, Ella knew she was trapped in the attic until her step-mother felt fit enough to let her out.

Her Step-mother had found her shoe in her Hope Chest and smashed it on the ground, the memory of her perfect night shattered like her slipper.

She pounded on the door to try and get another’s attention to free her but after a while she gave up and laid on her bed, head in her arms as she sobbed.

She could hear muffled voices downstairs, the front door opening, people coming in, and sounds of objects moving. Unknown to her, her little mice friends were trying to help.

Jac Jac and Gus Gus were on a mission to retrieve the key to Cinderella’s door, but had some fallbacks. For one, the mistress of the house kept it in her pocket and hand around it, as if it could disappear into thin air.

After many failed attempts at retrieving the key, they gave up and tried another way. They had to get Ella out of the attic, this was her chance at a happily ever after, a chance to get out of this horrible house and away from these dreadful people.

It would be the least they could do for her after everything she did for them!  

As the eldest sister sat down upon the chair, a servant tried to put it on her foot, but alas, the foot was too wide for the slim glass.

Upset at the outcome, she took the shoe from the servant and jammed her foot into it, “There, it fits!'' As she finished her exclamation, the shoe showed her toes squished against the glass uncomfortable, her eyebrows furrowed in pain, and jaw clenched.

“Well, ma’am, the prince did say every available maiden must try on the shoe.'' He said carefully, as if not to hurt her feelings, took off the slipper and motioned for the other sister to sit.

The other sat gracefully, holding her foot out delicately to the servant and smiled. The servant gently placed the shoe on her foot and gasped, it actually fit her, perfectly to be exact!

“Sire, we have the girl!”

“Yes, Yes. Now go, get her things we must leave at once!” The servants ran off towards the staircase as the three women smiled and planned.

Once the sister left, soon her mother and other daughter departed too.

Ella, seemed to be forgotten, spent several days locked in her room before someone found the spare key and let her out.

By that time, her sister had taken her happily ever after.

Leonard could see that this was not the woman he danced with, but he was vague with instructions, for he only said to ‘find the girl who fits into the slipper’ not ‘find a girl with golden hair and eyes blue as the ocean who’s foot fit into the slipper’’ for that mistake he is forever unhappily married to the wrong girl.

He was just too frazzled to give more information than just find the girl with the missing shoe. He missed the maiden whose name he knows not, but am undoubtedly in love with.

Leonard stood with his new bride at his side at a court meeting his father held with a blank gaze and clenched jaw.

His friends could see that he wasn’t happy, the only time Rick had seen him truly happy was when he danced with the mystery maiden at the ball. His friends didn’t like to see him this way, constantly angry and upset.

Before the marriage, Leonard was a little adventurous and mischievous, always getting in trouble with his friends, now, he was silent and always brushing their fun away.

They also didn’t like the maiden he did marry, for she was rude as was her sister, a learned trait from their mother no doubt. So, after the meeting the Prince’s friends held a meeting of their own and discussed what to do.

“Well?”

“We could find her, convince her he’s not happy with his wife?”

“Do you even know what she looks like?”

“No, but Rick does. I overheard him and Leonard talking in the hall one afternoon.”

They all pan towards Rick, “I have seen her, but there is a problem. We don’t even know if she’s from this kingdom.”

“Then we send word to other Kingdoms close by, maybe one of them has seen her!”

“Unlikely, there could be thousands, millions of maidens that match the description of her!”

“Do you suggest we just let our friend be miserable?”

“No, but we have to find a special characteristic about her that only she could have, something that couldn’t be duplicated!”

“Then we must talk to Leonard, maybe he could tell us something useful in finding his true love!”

Leonard was in his study, reading a book as the doors slam open and his friends are coming in.

“What’s this about?”

“You being a dumbass.”

“I’m not following, Nicholas.”

“You were so memorized by the maiden that you danced with the night of the ball that you only gave a brief description on how to find her. Well, we have come up with a way to do just that!”

“And, pray tell, what is it? How do you plan to do that? I’ve already lost her and I am married to another woman.”

“Did you see any identifying features? Anything special characteristically about her?”

“Yes. She had a scar on her right, inside upper arm. I saw it while we were dancing, it looked like it was from a burn. Does that help?”

“Yes, Leonard, it does. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, just promise me you’ll find her.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to.”

For weeks the friends tried to find the maiden, went to every house and asked questions to every villager.

When they spotted an older woman, they all exchanged looks before running towards her. If anyone was to know the maiden, it would be someone who’s been here for quite some time and knows everyone.

“Excuse me ma’am,”

“Yes my dear?”

“Do you happen to know a maiden with golden hair, blue eyes, and a burn scar on her right upper arm?” her eyes widen and she gasps, she didn’t pay much attention to their clothes at first, but now that she sees their royalty, she quickly excuses herself and leaves, leaving the men suspicious and worried.

They tried to follow the older woman to find out where she’s hiding, but the woman was quick and used passage ways unknown to them to escape.

During the week, they tried to corner her and ask questions, but every time they got close something would happen to gain their attention and look away enough for her to bolt.

After a month with no success and their friend wallowing in self-pity,  they tried a different approach.

They had convinced Leonard to get out of the castle in villager clothes and talk to the woman, and when they found her with a basket full of foods, they pushed Leonard towards her and hid.

“Hello ma’am, may I talk to you for a moment?”

She looked at him and smiled, “Why of course, dearie.”

“I was wondering if you’ve seen a young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes and a burn scar on her upper right arm? I’m looking for her.”  

“Well, yes, I do know her. You’re talking about Ella, she lives up on Hickory Lane, in the big white house with the black accents, but if you ask me, its too big for just one person. Be careful dearie, she isn’t the same after her step-mother and step-sisters left to go live in the castle. Oh no, she’s been sad and rude since then.”

He thanked her and started his path to find his one true love, Ella, as it seems her name is. His friends following behind him closely, for he is a Prince and might need protection.

When they had made it to the house, they saw it had its windows boarded up and lights off, as if no one lived there for years.

Gathering his courage, Leonard knocked on the door in three swift hits. The group waited for a minute or two after hearing no response or footsteps coming closer and knocked again, this time more firm and loud.

Perhaps the lady of the house was too far away and couldn’t hear? More time passed and still no acknowledgement was given to the knocks.

Growing tired of being ignored, Leonard knocked again, and accompanied it with a shout, “Ella, are you in there? If so, would you please come out to chat?” as they waited for a response this time, Leonard bounced on his heels with a winning smile plastered on his face.

“Go away, I’m not taking any visitors today sir!”

“Please, I think it is very important that we meet!”

“I said not today sir! Good bye!”

The smile slowly made its way into a frown as he said, “Alright then, good bye Ella.” the others patted his back in condolences and reassured him that maybe tomorrow he’d have better luck.

The next couple of weeks were spent with Leonard and his friends coming to the house and trying to convince Ella to talk to him, and each day, ended much like the first.

When Leonard had had quite enough of this childish behavior, and coming from him, is a big statement, had travelled behind the gate and went into the house using the back entrance.

He quietly surveyed the area, being careful and silent in his approach to find the woman he sought after.

As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he saw a young woman that fits the description of the maiden he danced with sulking as she cleaned the floors.

“You’re too beautiful to be this sad, please talk to me.”

She wiped her tears quickly despite him already seeing them fall, “How did you get in here? Who are you?” she questioned.

He puts his hands up as if to not startle her even more, “I went in the back entrance, I’ve tried the front for weeks with no answer. As for who I am, well darling, I am Prince Leonard. I believe you to be the maiden I danced with until midnight when you ran away.”

She clutched her broom as he spoke, unwilling to let go of this incase he was just here to rob her.

“I did no such thing, and you couldn’t possibly be the Prince, he is a married man.”

“Darling, I am the Prince, and as for my marriage, it is an unhappy one for I have married the wrong woman.” he gently grabs her hands in his.

“You have married the love of your life, sire, and for that I am very happy, but if you believe that I am even in the same social status as you, or the princess, you are mistaken. I am a maid, the Tramaine’s maid for decades and always have been. I hold no torch to the beauty of the Princess nor do I want to. Sire, please go home to her, love her for eternity, as she does you. You should forget about me, Your Highness. For I am nobody compared to her.”

She turns around and slips from his grip, “No! No, you are wrong, Ella, you are so much more than beauty to me. You are kind, and generous, as for my wife, she is the opposite. Her and her family will undoubtably run this kingdom to the ground with the coin they spend daily, and the rudeness they show to those under them in status. You, You my dear Ella, have a gentle heart, and would never do the awful things they do to the servants and staff alike. Please, consider this proposal?”

“I will think it over My Liege,” he nodded his head once, then twice, as if to reassure himself that he had gotten through to her.

As the days turn into weeks with still no reply to the proposal, Leonard started to get worried about Ella.

He decided to take a day off from his Kingly duties and ride the carriage down to the abandoned house.

He knocks once, twice, three times and waits for a few seconds before starting the knock pattern again.

This time after the wait he just opens the door and sees the dust and grime floating in the air.

And there’s a certain smell that permeates the air, somewhat of decay.

He finds the woman from before sitting in a big soft looking chair and a fire almost out.

Soon he realizes that she’s the cause of the pungent smell as he gets closer.

Leonard shouts, “Rick, please call the guards! We need to give the news to the Princess and her family.”

He knows that he has so reason to cry over the lost of this beautiful woman, not while he was married and had no claim on her to begin with.

Her face had sunken cheeks and tired bags under her unopened eyes.

It looks as if she passed in her sleep, he hopes it was at least a nice dream before the Grim Reaper took her from this plane of existence.

A week later was her funeral and as a noble’s daughter, she was given the honor of having the funeral she deserved.

He was one of the only people to show up as a large amount of nobles around the district and continent forgot about her.

When is was his turn to show his respects to her coffin he whispered, “I will carry my undying love for you until the day I am no longer walking the earth.”

Leonard takes a deep breath as the tears start to slowly stream down his face.

“I am beyond sorry for my late proposal and wished it was you who I would spend the rest of my life with and not your terrible sister. You are the only true love I’ve ever had.”

One tear lands on her hands as he says her last goodbye to her, his Ella.

Forever 🏷️: @crazyk-imagine

🏷️ list: -

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

I Can’t Say Anything to Your Face

Summary: Lunchtime is Spencer Reid’s favorite time of day and not because of the crappy endless coffee, dry sandwiches, or the occasional chocolate donut. Spencer’s favorite time of day comes in the shape of a little post it notes and fits perfectly into his heart.

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader

Content: Fluff (1 use of a$$)

Author’s Note: The idea of for this came from @shemarmooresfedora for giving Spencer compliment cards

Word Count: 2.6 K

I Can't Say Anything To Your Face

When Spencer checks his watch for the twelfth time that day, he can practically feel Derek’s eyes roll. He tries to cover up his action by picking at his sleeve, but that just seems to draw attention to the situation. Derek raises his eyebrows at Spencer, as if to tell him, I saw that.

When it comes to teasing Spencer, Derek doesn’t miss a beat.

The team, minus Derek and Spencer, continue to work diligently. JJ walks back and forth from her office to Hotch’s, constantly shuffling through piles and piles of paperwork. Emily seems to keep herself busy with the 33 tabs that she has open on her screen. Y/N, who’s tongue slips out of her teeth in concentration, doesn’t look up from her mound of case files. Spencer likes studying how each of the members of his team works, but he particularly likes to watch Y/N. She always sticks her tongue out when she’s deep in thought. Sometimes she’ll close her eyes and rub the butt of her palm against them. Other times she’ll push her glasses up on top of her head and her hair frames her face perfectly. Spencer couldn’t care less what she looked like or how she wore her hair, but watching her was his favorite part of the day.

In a totally platonic, non-creepy way.

A beep distracts Spencer from being distracted by Y/N. It’s an IM from Derek, telling him something to the effect of asking Y/N out. Instead of responding, Spencer decides to send Derek a more direct message. He shuts off his computer, which isn’t really used, besides for Y/N to send Spencer requests for online scrabble.

Spencer, ignoring Derek’s gloating, walks from the bullpen into the team’s lunch room. It’s a small kitchenette with a couple tables, a very old coffee machine, and an even older refrigerator. Peeking into the refrigerator, Spencer takes out two lunch boxes. One is light green with patterned purple and orange dinosaurs all over and the other is a light blue with green plants. Like clockwork, Y/N rounds the corner with a smile plastered to her face.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Spencer asks, placing his lunch box down across from Y/N’s seat.

“It’s just my favorite time of day,” Y/N responds, unzipping her bag and taking out her banana, water bottle, granola, and turkey sandwich.

Spencer tries to hold back his smile at Y/N saying that lunch is her favorite time of day. He likes to believe that it’s because of him and not because of the top tier kitchen facility the government provides for them. But who’s he kidding, there’s no way that lunch is Y/N favorite part of the day because of Spencer when he’s up against a crappy coffee maker.

“Did you know that sandwiches were only called sandwiches because the Earl of Sandwich ate his meals with bread, meat and cheese like modern day sandwiches? However, there’s much debate if sandwiches existed prior to this. Researchers actually believe that sandwiches were simply referred to as bread and meat or bread cheese, depending on the ingredients. There’s hundreds of works of literature that help to determine this,” Spencer says, as he unwraps his leftovers from dinner the previous night.

Y/N, who takes a bite of her turkey sandwich, listens intently to Spencer’s oral history of sandwiches. She starts to respond to Spencer, but before she can even get the chance, Derek interjects into the conversation.

“Hold your horses, there Reid,” Derek says, his voice tainted with sarcasm and Spencer braces himself for a clipping comment, “you don’t want to scare away the newbie,”

Y/N, ever quick witted, rolls her eyes dramatically at Derek. She gets up and moves her seat closer to Spencer who’s heart rate, at the thought of her sitting even closer to him, speeds up. He knows that it's just an effort to tease Derek. That she'd rather suffer next to Spencer, than to have to entertain the idea of sitting next to Derek. But still, Spencer is a dreamer; he'd like to think she'd sit next to him even without the added bonus at avoiding Derek's playful teasing.

“Derek, leave Spencer alone, I happen to adore his facts. You know, I’ve seen I’ve been here I’ve been a Jeopardy beast. And when are you going to realize that I’m not a newbie, I’ve been here for what 2 years-”

“2 years, 4 months, and 4 days,” Spencer says, cursing himself silently for interrupting Y/N.

Derek grabs his lunch from the refrigerator, and sits down across from Spencer and Y/N.

“You remember the day I started?” Y/N asks, turning her attention from Derek to Spencer, whose face is twisted in what he can only assume is an extremely unattractive deer-in-head-lights look. He shrugs off Y/N’s comment, as if to say it’s just normal for him.

"Of course I do, I remember how long each of us has been here,"

"Oh, right. Eidetic Memory," Y/N mumbles, almost like she's slightly disappointed in something.

Suddenly Spencer’s mouth is quite dry; he reaches into his lunch bag to grab his water bottle, but his fingers brush across a small card taped to the outside. Forgetting that showing the card to Morgan would give him enough ammunition for the rest of day, Spencer quickly scans the card. It’s a small piece of paper, but it suddenly has become Spencer’s most treasured object. More than the set of Chaucer tales that his mother gave him, or Gideon’s watch, or his first microscope that his biology teacher in high school gave him at his graduation.

The one side of the card is decorated in small hearts and there’s a sketch of a dinosaur on the other side. In careful handwriting, the giver of the card wrote “Are you made of Nickel, Cerium, Arsenic, and Sulfur? Because you got a NiCe AsS!”

Spencer’s eyes grow a couple sizes once his brain registers the meaning of the card. Handling it less than gracefully, he chokes on his water, which catches Derek and Y/N’s attention.

“You okay there, Spence?’ Derek asks, questioning what sent Spencer coughing and choking on water like that.

Spencer, not wanting Y/N or Derek, especially Derek, to read the card, attempts to put it in the front pocket of his lunch box. Unfortunately, Derek catches sight of the card and snatches it out of Spencer’s hand.

“Derek!” Spencer whines.

He can feel his embarrassment deepen as Morgan’s smile grows. Spencer seriously thinks that this is how he’s going to die. His death, being in his line of work, is something that plagues his thoughts from time to time, but any gory hero’s death pales in comparison to Derek Morgan reading Spencer’s love notes about his ass.

“Nice ass? I’m not too sure about this, Reid, but looks like your secret lover likes your ass just as much as your brains,” Derek teases, handing back Spencer his card.

“Those are private,” Spencer says, grateful that Derek’s going to leave him alone, places the card back in it’s temporary resting spot near his driver’s license and photographs of him and Y/N at the arcade.

“Hey man, I was just going to put in that shoe box you have tucked under your desk, you must have hundreds of them by now,” Derek says, taking a bite of his ham and cheese wrap. His eyes dash between Spencer and Y/N, like the pair of them is the most entertaining reality show he could think of.

“I have 645, now,” Spencer says, unable to help himself much to Derek’s amusement. Spencer hears the chair next to him screech and Y/N rushes to pack up her half eaten lunch.

“I completely forgot, Anderson needs me to uh, help him with something,” Y/N says, stuffing her water bottle into her lunch box in a flustered state. Spencer watches as she rushes, her need to leave the kitchenette quite evident. Spencer is left wondering why she has to go see Anderson, of all people.

“Anderson? What does he want with you? I don’t remember Hotch saying anything about that,” Spencer says, his voice comes off a little more bitter than he indented.

“Maybe Anderson has some extracurriculars that he needs Y/N’s help with Spencer,” Derek says with a wink. Spencer’s brow tightens and his blush deepens as if he’s trying to decipher the way that Derek’s voice is laced with suggestion. The only logical conclusion is that Y/N is flustered because she’s sneaking off to see Anderson, because she likes him.

Y/N likes Anderson? Something about that doesn’t taste right in Spencer’s mouth.

Like the wind, Y/N is gone and all that remains is Derek’s sly chuckle.

“What!” Spencer says, much too loud for him to continue the coy and unassuming demeanor he usually produces when Y/N gets hit on at the bar or on case by local cops.

“Nothing, Reid. You're just clueless. Just think about how many of those little compliment cards you’ve gotten,” Derek says. He reaches into Spencer’s lunch box and takes his brownie. Usually, Spencer would have protested, but Derek’s words sent him into a confused spiral.

“645,” Spencer responds.

“Okay,” Derek continues, “645 days you’ve gotten those cute little cards in your lunch box or taped to your hotel room door on cases. Now, Reid think. How many years, months, and days, is 645 days”

“That’s 2 years, 4 months, and 3 days,” Spencer starts, “now given if it’s a Leap Year that could change it a little bit bit-”

“Think about it Reid,” Derek says, talking slowly to get the words sink in and hoping that he doesn’t have to spell it out for him.

“Y/N?” Spencer asks, kind of like he can’t believe it, but desperately wants to believe it at the same time.

“Y/N,” Derek repeats, “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long, Reid. She’s been making eyes at you the day she’s gotten here. It’s almost sickening to watch you to dance around each other,”

“Y/N,” Spencer says, it’s like he’s saying her name for the first time. It’s the most beautiful string of syllables to ever come from his lips.

Spencer pushes back the chair and swings the door open. As he walks to Y/N’s desk he gets distracted by the little brown shoe box that sticks out slightly from under his desk. He crouches down and picks it up, hoping that it can be helpful. He approaches Y/N’s desk, but JJ stops him before he can go closer.

“Stairwell,” Is all she says before she brushes past with an armful of case files. Spencer, heading JJ’s advice, practically runs to the stairwell. As he approaches he can hear quiet sobs, which he can only imagine are Y/N’s.

Spencer opens the door and Y/N, startled, stands up and tries to mop the tears away from her face.

“Spencer, oh god, I didn’t know you were here, I’m okay, it’s just me being a little silly,” she says, trying to laugh through what she can only assume is going to be rejection.

“I really hope you don’t think these are silly, well some are kind of silly, but others were very poetic,” Spencer says, taking a step forward and gesturing with the shoe box to make it obvious to Y/N that he’s talking about the compliment cards.

“What are you talking about, Spencer?” Y/N says, feigning ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You're much too smart to play dumb,” Spencer says, moving closer to Y/N so he can wipe her tear-stricken face with the sleeve of his soft cardigan. He tries not to focus on the way that Y/N seems to melt into his touch. He knows that if he can get another touch of that, he’ll never want to touch another person ever again.

“I’m not playing dumb, Spence. I just never planned for you to find out,” Y/N mumbles. Spencer’s face resembles a mix between shock and confusion.

“Why would you not tell me, I don’t think I made it anything but obvious that I’m crazy about you,” Spencer says, deeply wondering why Y/N would ever hide something like this from him.

“God Spencer, have you ever looked in a mirror?” Y/N asks him, sitting down on the third step, “you’re so gorgeous, Spencer, I can’t say anything to your face. So the next best thing was to write down everything that I wanted to say to you,” Y/N finishes, a little embarrassed. She tries to hide that embarrassment by not making eye contact with Spencer, who sits down next to her.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Spencer asks, not entirely sure that he heard her correctly.

Y/N peaks at him with teary eyes and a runny nose. Spencer thanks science and the universe for his Eidetic Memory. He knows that there won’t be a single day of his life that he won’t want to think back to this day and remember the way that Y/N looked when she first told him that she thinks he’s gorgeous.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever seen,” Y/N says breathily, her voice laced with restraint. She’s terrified of rejection, terrified that Spencer will turn her down still.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” Spencer says, equally as quiet and equally as terrified. He notices that Y/N’s hand creeps closer to his. Spencer is itching to intertwine it to his and never let go.

“You deserve to hear it more often, hence the cards,” Y/N explains, moving her hand even more closer to Spencer’s. He has no choice but to wrap his much larger one in Y/N’s smaller one.

“You meant it, right?” Spencer asks, bravely putting her heart out there on the line, “because if you did Y/N, that I’d really like to kiss you right now. But if you didn’t then that’s-”

Spencer tries to finish the sentence, to give Y/N an out, but somehow she doesn’t take it. Somehow she decides to kiss him.

Spencer has kissed a total of three people in his entire life, but none of them ever mattered again the second he feels Y/N’s lips against his and her hands in his hair. Spencer doesn’t complain when Y/N starts to set the pace. Her lips roam across his face. They venture across his jaw, up closer to his nose and then back down to his lips. Spencer had no clue Y/N can kiss like this. It's a little passionate for a first kiss, but maybe it's just the pent up tension and frustration 2 years in the making finally being let out. He's dreamt of the way that Y/N's pillowy lips would feel when they were finally pressed up against his. Spencer, from the fibers that make him up to the hormones that surge throughout his body, tries to be brave. He places his hands so they rest on Y/N’s neck. He’s not passive, but he’s happy to sit back and let Y/N have her way as she continues her feverish assault on his lips.

Her ministrations are interrupted, however, when the box of cards falls from Spencer’s lap. It seems to remind both of them that they are in the stairwell of the FBI making out like over zealous teenagers for the first time. Y/N lets out a small giggle. Spencer wishes he can write down the feeling it gives him and tuck it away safely in a shoe box.

“I hope you know that those compliments aren’t platonic, Spencer. I really do think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Y/N says, her fingers gravitating to the brown curls behind Spencer’s ears. He has the softest, silkiest hair she’s ever felt.

“That’s a good thing, Y/N, because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,”

Standing up, Y/N winks and pecks Spencer on the cheek, “I hate to break it to you, darling, but I think I win when it comes compliments,”

--Thank you for reading--

Taglist (Comment & I'll Happily Add You)

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@measure-in-pain

@nomajdetective

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 22 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

helloooooo besties and happy Saturday! 

Read previous chapters of this fic here! 

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence and death

wordcount: 1.9k 

You're passing the diamond on your chain between your fingers anxiously a few days later as you and Spencer pour over a map on the jet. You’re headed to Colorado after a family annihilator had struck twice in the same small Denver suburb. The whole town was on alert, and you needed to solve this one fast before the whole state devolved into hysteria. Hotch decided on the jet to send you, Reid and JJ to the precinct-- you and Reid will keep working on the geographic profile, and JJ will coordinate local law enforcement. He, Morgan and Emily are headed to the neighborhood to see if any of the locals had noticed anything off. 

“There has to be a connection to this specific suburb. Why come ten miles outside of Denver when the city, or even a closer suburb, would be a more target-rich environment?” You floated an idea past Spencer, who nodded in agreement. 

“You think he sought out these families in particular?” He asked, turning his attention to the pictures on the whiteboard. 

“Not necessarily. Garcia’s still looking for a connection between the families, but so far she hasn’t found one. I think these two families were practice for something worse, or for a family that matters more to him.” You conclude, hoping more than ever that you had profiled wrong. 

“If that’s the case, our presence here might trigger the unsub to escalate,” he points out with a grimace. 

“Or, hopefully, it will send him into hiding.” 

“We’ll never find him if he does that.” 

“We’re gonna have to.” You sigh, pulling your attention back towards the map. You pour over it, certain that if you look just a little closer, the answer will jump out at you, but it doesn’t. 

Geographic profiles are always helpful, and you and Spencer were great at them, but they rarely solved cases on their own. The reality of the situation is that without any info on the unsub or the connection between the victims, you were essentially trying to create something out of nothing. You push your chair out from the table, deciding to give your mind and your eyes a break, when your phone starts to ring. It’s Garcia.

“Oh, you’re just my favorite person.” You said into the phone by way of greeting, hoping that she’s going to present you with the missing piece that will make all of these seemingly unrelated pieces of information make sense together.

“Careful, peach! There’s someone else on the line who might object to that,” Garcia warns you. 

“What do you have for us, Penelope?” Aaron asks.

“So, the Sutton and Mack families have more in common than we thought-- not so much socioeconomically, but their kids were both enrolled at the local high school, although different ages, and the moms were on the PTA together.” 

“Were they friends? The kids, or the moms for that matter?” You ask immediately. 

“It doesn’t really look like it, but I’m going to keep digging,” she tells you. 

“And no connection between the fathers?” Hotch asks.

“Nope, Mr. Sutton was an attorney and Mr. Mack was a cab driver. Doesn’t seem like they ever would have met.” She tells you both. 

“Garcia, do me a favor and make sure Mr. Sutton wasn’t in Mr. Mack’s cab within the last month or so. Let us know when you have more.”

“Oh, sir, before you both go, there’s one more thing.” She blurts out before Aaron can hang up the phone.  “It’s about Josh.” 

You take a sharp breath in, and Spencer’s in tune to you immediately, his head jerking up from the maps, looking you over to make sure you’re okay. 

“What is it?” Hotch asks, sounding every bit as tense as you feel. 

“Josh was arrested this morning. Busted for possession during a traffic stop,” She tells you and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“That’s… that’s great news.” You say.

“I thought you’d both like to know.” Garcia tells you.

“Anything else?” Hotch asks, and you're perplexed by his lack of response to such a good update. 

“No, that’s all for now. I’ll call you back as soon as I have more on the case.” She says, and the line clicks.

“What was that about?” Spencer asks, bringing you back to reality, and you share the info from Garcia about the victims. You can tell that he knows that there’s more, but he doesn’t press and you don’t offer. 

“If both the kids and the moms knew each other, we could be looking at a bullied kid or a woman scorned.” You theorize. 

“A woman wouldn’t kill the kids, at least not a mother. And if the woman wasn’t from the PTA, why target these moms in particular?” Spencer argues, and you agree. 

“Could be a man, too. Maybe he’s jealous that he doesn’t have the picture-perfect family he’s destroying.”

‘That’s more likely. Although with nothing connecting two husbands, we’ll have a hard time profiling a man if that’s the case.”

“Okay, so for now we focus on the kids until we find something that pulls us another way. You want to take the Macks and I’ll work on the Suttons?” 

“Will do.”    

You work in silence for a couple more hours until Hotch, Morgan and Emily return. 

“Anything helpful?” JJ asks, coming into the room behind them. 

“The moms were friendly, but not necessarily friends. The kids mostly hung out in separate social circles, it seems.” Morgan informs you all. 

“Any obvious power imbalances between the kids groups, or bullying?” You asked. 

“None that any of the kids we interviewed brought up.” Emily tells you. 

“None of the moms mentioned it either-- and they’d be more likely to bring it up than the kids would.” Aaron tells you. 

“So we’ve got a whole lot of nothing.” JJ concludes, and you sigh. 

You all continue to work for a few more hours-- putting together profiles of each of the members of the families that ultimately bring you no closer to finding the unsub. 

“We’ll be back here first thing tomorrow morning-- there’s nothing else we can do tonight.” Hotch concludes as he pins the last index card to the cork board. “Let’s head to the hotel and get some rest.” 

Despite the exhaustion that has soaked its way deep into your bones, you and the rest of the team pull yourselves out of your chairs and towards the SUVs. You nearly sink into the leather, and if he wasn’t such a stark professional, you might have asked him to carry you up to your hotel room.  He did, however, offer you a very gentlemanly hand to help you out of the car, and wrap his arm around your waist as the two of you trudged your way into the elevator and down the hall towards your room. You collapse onto the mattress as soon as you make it through the door, and Aaron chuckles at you, taking a moment to brush his teeth and change. When he settles on top of the covers next to you, you speak up, although hadn’t really intended to do so.

“Aaron, can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask me anything, my love,” Aaron mumbles like it’s the easiest thing in the world as he leans over to set the hotel alarm clock that sits on the bedside table. 

“When Garcia told us that Josh was arrested… you didn’t seem happy.” You said, decidedly not a question. He answers you anyway, shifting towards you to look you in the eye before he speaks up. 

“I’m sorry honey. I’m relieved, of course I am. I was just focused on the case this morning. Maybe I haven’t fully processed it yet,” he confesses. “But of course I’m happy for you. I would have been happier to arrest him myself, but this is just as well.” He tells you with a rueful smirk. 

He’s lying, and you can see it in his face. Maybe lying is a strong word, but there is definitely more to it than he’s telling you. “You’re sure? There’s nothing else that’s bothering you?” You pushed, but he shook his head, looking down at his lap.

“I’m sure, doll. I really am happy. We’ll take Jack out when we get home to celebrate.” He tells you, leaning over to kiss your temple. 

“Maybe a bike ride and some ice cream? I haven’t been out on the bike with him since he got his training wheels off.” You suggested. 

“Sounds perfect,” he tells you, reaching to kiss you again and moving to wrap his arms around you, which you dodged. 

“Get the bed nice and toasty for me while I change,” you smirked, rolling off the mattress and heading towards your suitcase for some pajamas.

You were back at the police station before the sun rose the next morning, pouring over the transcripts of what had come in from the tip line the night before in the hopes that you might find something useful. Your desk looked the same way it used to when you were studying for exams in the academy-- papers and highlighters scattered everywhere, color coordinated page flags littering all of your documents. 

“Cupcake, if I didn’t know any better, I might think you were the serial killer,” Morgan comments with a smirk, setting a hot cup of coffee in a relatively-unoccupied patch of desk. 

“Very funny, Derek.” you rolled your eyes. “I’m only letting you live because you brought me coffee. And because I’m too tired to kick you,” you told him.

“Do you want any help?” He offers, and you smile, but shake your head at him. 

“No, thanks. I’ve got a pretty strict organizational system going on over here, if you hadn’t noticed,” you chuckle. “But you can come to the medical examiner’s office with me in an hour or so?” 

“It’s a date, mama.” He confirms, rapping his knuckles against your desk before going back to his own workspace. You flip through a few more pages, leaving scribbled notes and wayward highlighter in the margins, before you notice something and call Garcia. 

“Good morning, peach! What can I do you for?” Garcia asks in her usual cheery tone, clearly far ahead of you in terms of cups of coffee consumed. 

“Morning,” you say to her. “Listen, something came in through the tip line last night, and it’s probably nothing, but I just have this feeling…” 

“Lay it on me,” she tells you encouragingly. 

“So, Mark Vexper is a long-term sub at the high school where all of the kids went. He didn’t go to work the day after both of the murders. He had a scheduled personal day the first day, and he called in sick the second. Like I said, probably just a coincidence--” 

“No stone left unturned, kitten! I’m on it. Buzz you when I have more.” She says, hanging up unceremoniously.

“Good catch,” Hotch says from behind you, and you startle. 

“It’s probably just a coincidence,” you brush the compliment off. 

“Maybe, but we won’t know until we look into it,” he tells you. “You feeling okay?” He asks. 

“I just really want to catch this guy and get home to our boy.” You tell him, and his heart warms. Looking around surreptitiously, he drops a quick kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Me, too, angel. We’ll get him.” He tells you. 

An unexplainable chill runs up your spine, and you have a strange feeling that Aaron’s not talking about this unsub.

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

[jungkookiebus]

Grain of Sand | jjk

Genre: smut x fluff x established relationship x slice of life Pairing: blind!jjk x reader Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: cunnilingus, (light) ass play, fingering, jungkook fucks you against the kitchen sink so i guess that can be a warning, creampie Summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

Bright, warm sunshine filled the hallway of your home from the windows that lined the wall. It was one of the reasons you picked this house. You imagined hanging pictures up on the wall for the morning sun to rise upon and, at night, you could still easily see them in the light of the moon. And that’s exactly what you did when you moved in two years ago. Jungkook walked ahead of you, fingers delicately skimming the wall right beneath the pictures. The wall there looked more worn than the rest, a little oily sheen to it from his fingertips. Walls all over your home had these trails. They were like highways for him, directing him to the living room, kitchen, and every room in between. Sometimes, like now, you’d run your fingers along his path lovingly, grazing your fingers underneath your wedding photo.

“What would you like for breakfast?” he asked, and you saw as he tilted his head a little, knowing you were following quietly behind him.

You hummed in thought. You never really were that hungry as soon as you woke up, but the smell of breakfast always made your stomach growl.

“What about…eggs and bacon?”

“Toast?”

“Oh, yes, Taehyung gave us some fresh strawberry jam he made.”

He hummed in a content agreement, turning the corner ahead of you, two fingers brushing the dull edge as he continued down the hallway. The light overhead was still off, and the early morning sun had yet to reach this part of the house, but Jungkook moved by memory and his worn wall path before moving into the kitchen. As he walked into the room, you reached for the light switch and flicked it on.

“What would you like me to do?” you asked. You leaned against the counter as you watched his hands skim the cabinets, and you knew he was counting in his head, until he got to the one he wanted. He pulled out a pan as his other hand reached for the stove, hand finding the burner, before moving it to sit the pan down.

“Uh, if you want to grab the ingredients, that will help.”

“Sure thing, sweet pea.”

Jungkook laughed as he reached for the oil that sat by the stove.

“I should be calling you pet names.”

“You do all the time and you’re just too cute not to.”

Opening the refrigerator, you pulled out the necessary amount of eggs and bacon as not to cause confusion with a clutter of items.

Jungkook lost his sight at the ripe, but terrible age of 18. Retinitis pigmentosa was the cause of his progressive vision loss. Around 10, he started showing signs when he complained about not being able to see outside when he played later in the afternoon, even when the sun was still bright on the horizon. His parents’ worst fears were confirmed with his diagnosis and the heartache of explaining to their son that he would lose his vision completely was devastating. But Jungkook proved strong and focused on studying Braille and doing whatever he could to prepare himself. Over the years, his vision worsened, he didn’t get to get his driver’s license with his friends, and he missed out on many things, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing his passion in music. He felt a connection when he made music because without his vision, it made him that much more acute in his studies. You met Jungkook in college, both music majors, and the reason you had met was because he had accidentally thwacked you with his white cane.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” he had said reaching in your direction.

You had laughed and at first his face was set into a confused expression until you spoke.

“Oh, that little thing couldn’t even leave a mark if you had done it intentionally.”

His face screwed up as he tried to hold in a laugh but was unable to do so at your incessant giggling. When you spoke again was when he thinks he fell in love with you, but there were too many moments to count for him.

You nudged the end of his completely white cane with your foot, no red or other markings. “Completely blind, huh?”

You hadn’t said it with any disdain or judgement; you had said it as if you were just having curious, casual conversation. Most of the time Jungkook felt as if his blindness made him invisible to people as if it were some curse to have and if they accidentally came close to him, they’d hurt him or themselves. Of course, he had his close friends and family that didn’t even remember he was blind half the time, but society always kind of sucked that way.

But you, you were the first girl he had ever met that so blatantly astonished him within the first few minutes and his heart flipped in his chest. He didn’t even need to see you to know that you were perfect, and he would end up with you one day. And, sure enough, five years later you were married and looking for a new home.

“How does this one sound?” you asked one night over your tub of chocolate ice cream.

You both sat at your small kitchen table in your small apartment. Jungkook had one headphone in listening to an audiobook, head resting in his hand as his other played absently on yours. You were scrolling through houses on your phone, trying to find the both of you the perfect one. Jungkook hit pause on his book and looked in your direction. Despite his blindness, nothing about his eyes had really changed; they were still a beautiful brown and they were your favorite to see in the evening light, sunset set his eyes aflame.

“Babe, as long as the layout is easy to memorize and it’s what you want, it’s perfect for me.”

“I love you,” you whispered. Tears filled your eyes at the content look on his face, a slight smile played on his lips. You were truly happy with him, sharing every moment together, and to the fullest, but parts of you did feel sad that he couldn’t see it.

“My god,” he whispered somewhat dramatically and suddenly your tears became a small laugh because you knew where this was going. “If your love were a grain of sand…”

“Mine would be a universe of beaches,” you whispered back.

Now, here you were, in your home with its innocuous fingertip paths lining your walls in an intimate artwork that was priceless to you.  

With your back to the counter you leaned and watched as he moved. You only offered help occasionally and when he asked for it, but you were content to watch. His hands always moved lithely, so smooth, as he reached for objects. He cracked the eggs easily into the hot pan as he began to hum. He’d sometimes hum, sometimes sing, but he’d always choose a song about the same length each time and that was how he timed his cooking. The bacon popped loudly.

“Oops, fire’s too high.” He turned the knob to lower the flame before carefully putting his hand back on the handle of his pan. He picked his song up a few seconds after where he left off. The eggs were frying perfectly in the pan, not that you expected any less.

You pushed away from the counter to start grabbing plates as he neared the end of his song. Before long, he had both plates perfectly set with eggs and bacon as you carried the toast to the table. You buttered and spread the strawberry jam on two pieces, dropping one on his plate as you brought them over. He followed behind you, hand on your waist lightly before sitting down at the table.

“What are we gonna do today?” you asked as you bit into the toast. “Holy shit Taehyung knows what he’s doing with this stuff.”

His smile was bright as he cut into his eggs. “What do you feel like doing?”

The sun was now up over the horizon, spilling into the windows and across your kitchen. You had hung various glass artwork throughout the house and right now the stained glass flower you had hung above the kitchen sink cast an array of colors into the room. Jungkook looked like moving artwork across from you. The colors shifted and changed as he moved, leaning back in his chair then forward again, elbow on the table, moving for a napkin, and each time he did splashes of red, green, blue, and yellow painted his skin.

You hadn’t realized you had fallen silent until Jungkook cleared his throat. “Babe?”

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“The stained glass is casting a lot of pretty colors on you right now and I got distracted.”

“I bet it looks wonderful.”

He smiled softly as he reached for his glass of milk.

“Describe it to me?” He pushed his plate to the middle of the table as he finished. Placing his head in his hands, he looked in your direction, his eyes averted just down from your eyes and somewhere near the apples of your cheeks. Even if he rarely ever made eye contact, your soft voice always lulled him in and pointed him in the right direction.

“Remember when we’d get those cheap plastic kaleidoscopes as kids?” You pulled his plate towards you and stacked it on your own.

He laughed softly at the memory. “I used to think they were so cool, but the pieces inside were just as cheap as the outside.”

“Well think of that…just prettier.” His smile grew wider as his eyes closed and you knew he was thinking back on a memory. Probably a summer day down by the shore, the salty sea air, and the sun on his face. His mom is with him and everything is so bright. He sees the water and the way it stretches to the horizon, but in his peripheral it’s a little darker. For now, he’ll enjoy the waves.

You stood up and took the plates to the sink and began pulling the pots off the stove and putting them under the water with the rest. The sun still shone through the stained glass in front of you. You got lost in thought, hand still under the water waiting for it to heat up as you stared unblinking and the slightly swaying piece of glass. You jumped when a pair of hands softly caressed your hips.

“Shit,” you whispered. You were snapped out of your daydream and you shakily grabbed the sponge before pouring soap over it.

His lips came down on your neck. “Did I scare you?”

“Yea that was real dickish of you.”

He laughed against your neck as he snaked his arms fully around you and held you close. You began scrubbing at a pan as he hummed lightly, placing yet another kiss to your skin. He inhaled deeply and let his warm breath out slowly.

“You smell good,” he murmured.

“Well, I did take a shower last night….” You put the pan in the drying rack before reaching for another one.

His arms tightened around you and he brought himself a little more flush with your body. He hummed again as he moved his lips along the top of your exposed shoulder.  

“What, pray tell, are you doing?” you asked in a mock accent as your hands dove blindly into the water as you searched for more dishes.

“Kissing you,” he said between small pecks.

“Okay.” You pulled a spoon from the filthy depths of the dish water when Jungkook’s hands moved back to your hips and his fingers dug lightly into them.

“Don’t move,” he whispered before dropping to his knees behind you.

Folding his fingers under the waistband of your shorts, he slowly began to pull them past your hips.

“What are you-“ You tried to turn around but keep your hands over the sink at the same time and you could only swivel so far at the hip.

“Shhh.” He kissed the small of your back and then the swell of your ass as he began to palm your ass cheeks. Slowly, he spread them further and further as he placed kisses along your skin. Your body had gotten whiplash; one second you were washing dishes and the next Jungkook was on his knees behind you. You shook slightly and your internal temperature began to rise. Suddenly, having your hands in the warm water became overbearing. You pulled them out and then clung desperately to a dish towel, but there was no way you were drying your hands right now. You felt his lips again and they were on the underside of your ass this time. You clutched the edge of the sink as you stared into the intricate flower in the glass.

Behind you, Jungkook spread your ass and dipped his head, tongue finding your cunt immediately. He hummed into you and you clenched. He spread them further as he licked at your center before he moved to your ass.

“A-ah,” you stuttered as you leaned more into the counter. His face was buried in your ass eating you out until he almost had your thighs shaking before he moved back to your now embarrassingly wet cunt. His moan was deeper this time as you dripped deliciously onto his tongue. Your mind seemed to exit the room as he shook his head, deepening this lewd kiss. He pushed himself up more on his knees, wanting to get as deep into you as he could. Your cries rose in pitch as your thighs began to shake. Your palms dug into the edges of the counters but all you could think about was him. He moaned the more you clenched, getting closer and closer to the release he wanted to give you. You could barely breathe now, and you were nearly on your tiptoes. All the while, Jungkook had his hands firmly on your thighs now with his face anchoring him to your body. You rocked back into his face and his moans began to pitch now, hands almost kneading at your thighs as he wrapped his hands around the front of them, pulling you harder into his face. Your mind felt as if it were on the brink of shutting down as your whole body began to shake. Every muscle in your stomach tensed as you felt yourself tumbling forward.

Different variations of his name fell from your lips in rapid succession as you crested the hill of your release. You fell over it when a large breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your body shuddered and it felt as if all the blood inside rushed to your cunt. Jungkook was still eating you out as you came on his face, nearly crying into the kitchen sink. His grip on your thighs loosened first and then his tongue slowed. Your body shuddered every now and then from the aftershock. He kissed the underside of your ass again before standing. He pulled you into him again and held you close as you caught your breath. He kissed the side of your neck as his cheek rested against your skin.

“You taste good, too,” he mumbled.

You let out a shaky laugh. He had said it so nonchalantly as if he weren’t on his knees, face nowhere to be seen, just minutes before.

“Now, my kaleidoscope eyes,” he reached for the back of your knee and brought your leg upwards, “I need you to rest this here.”

He had your leg up on the counter comfortably and then he dipped his hand back between them. Your hips jerked involuntarily as he played with your painfully swollen clit. He circled the tips of his fingers on it softly. He kissed your skin delicately, reverently. The sun rose higher in the sky and from behind your eyelids you could see various colors of orange, blue, and red.

“You always describe the world so beautifully to me,” he whispered.

“I-I don’t want you t-to miss out.” You were a mess and he was making you an even bigger mess.

“Your vision of the world is far better than anything I could dream up.”

His fingers pressed a little harder and you wanted to clench around something only to be met with air. You whined a little as his breath picked up against your skin and he rutted into you. You felt his cock through his sweats and your mouth instantly watered. He hummed again as you began to drip on his fingers as he dipped them before pushing inside of you. He let out a shuddering breath as you swallowed his fingers fully, clenching hard around him. He pushed into you again, cock hard against your ass and he leaned into you as you pressed further into the counter.

“Tell me what you want,” he said gruffly as he pumped his fingers inside of you.

Your toes curled against the countertop, knee hitting a mug across the marble surface but neither of you bothered to acknowledge it. Jungkook was rutting into you now and breathing hotly into your ear. His other hand was on your breast kneading it roughly.

“God, Jungkook, just fuck me already.” You were doubled over with him hot on your back. His fingers pumped faster and faster and you were on your tiptoe again. You pushed your hips into him as he gave two more hard thrusts into you before pulling his fingers away.

His hands were only gone for what seemed like seconds before he had one on your hip and the other rubbing his cock between your folds. You moaned as you anticipated him. You didn’t have to wait long before he was sliding inside of you easily. His body was hot against yours and his skin against your ass was even hotter. His hand was at your breast again kneading as his heavy cock slid in and out of you slowly as if he were trying to make this moment last forever.

“What colors do you see now?” he whispered. His voice sounded strained like he was holding back. How were you supposed to concentrate?

You squinted when you were finally able to open your eyes; the sun was higher and brighter in the sky since you last looked. All you could think about was his cock softly nudging against the nerves inside of you, but he wasn’t going fast enough to really stimulate anything. You pushed your hips back into him again, but he didn’t take the bait as he pinched your nipple through your shirt. His other hand was anchoring your leg to the counter so you couldn’t move it from where he placed it. Plentiful soap suds were all over the sink and slowly popping but there was enough for the colors to be cast in a strange refracted way. The angle of the light caused more rainbows to shine from the hundreds of tiny bubbles. You reached out and braced yourself on the windowsill above the sink before you spoke.

“All of t-them. They’re shining on the soap now.” You were no stranger to describing things to Jungkook, but during sex was a new one.

He seemed satisfied as his pace quickened. His lips were on your neck, wet, and travelling upwards until he bit your earlobe between his teeth. Once again, you were pushing your hips into him as much as he’d let you. He was much too strong pushing you against the counter and his hand on your leg limited your movements.

“Jungkook, please.” You were breathless now, travelling up to that peak again but you needed more than this. He didn’t need to ask to hear your underlying question. He pressed against you harder while at the same time quickening his pace. The hand on your breast splayed across your chest before he moved it slowly down your stomach. Your breath caught in your throat as your stomach tightened. He was dipping his fingers between your legs again and pressed two fingers to your clit. Your chest came flush with the edge of the counter now and you felt Jungkook’s cheek on your shoulder blade. You reached for anything to brace yourself after your sweaty palm slid from the windowsill. You knocked soap and various other items down, sending some splashing into the water and others into the empty side of the steel sink. Jungkook ignored the clattering of items as he began to snap his hips harder. The pressure he had on your clit was barely there but enough to have you straining and willing your body to fall, but you just whimpered as you cried into the sink. He controlled your orgasm and all you could do was fall into the delectable pleasure he was giving you because you knew he always delivered. There was no way he was letting you physically walk away from this.  

The room grew hotter the higher the sun climbed as it cast its menagerie of colors onto your face. The ends of your hair gathered the water droplets collected in the sink as your body shifted with each thrust. Without his sight, Jungkook was acutely more aware to other parts of your body. Like the way your cunt would flutter and tighten like a vice the closer you got your orgasm. He could practically feel the muscles in your back tense up as you focused all your attention to the burning in your abdomen. He pressed his fingers a little harder before moving them faster on your clit. The nerve endings inside were lit on fire, sending the hot flames licking in your core and up into your chest as every hair on your body stood on end as your skin flushed with goosebumps. You began to tremble, thighs cramping as you brought yourself fully up on your toes, other leg sweating against the marble counter. Jungkook’s large hand was still firm on the back of your thigh, keeping your leg up on the edge as he fucked into you faster and harder. You were crying loudly now, not holding anything back as he led you towards the end. Your orgasm hit with an explosion of colors behind your eyelids, aided by the stained glass. Jungkook’s fingers abandoned your clit in favor of bringing you more upright to turn your face enough for a searing kiss; his lips skated across your cheek before he found yours and you moaned into his mouth. He still thrust, ready to follow you down the other side and you clenched harder around him almost making it impossible for him to stay inside, but he had his hips hard against yours and into the counter in front of you. He braced himself against your thigh, his other hand on the counter now, and his lips still on yours as he spilled inside of you. Hot cum began to leak immediately around him and onto the floor. Usually you had your closed legs to keep it contained but now he was dripping all over the kitchen floor. Not that you minded. His moans dropped in pitch as he continued to thrust, overwhelmed by the feeling of you and his cum filling you up and then spilling out. With hips stuttering a few more times, he stilled. Without his movements you could now feel the slip of his cum as it came out of you. Slowly, he let go of your thigh and eased it to the floor. You winced as your cramped muscles begged for relief, but he was gentle in his movements, letting you adjust. He kissed your temple and the side of your face while you tried to regain your breath. Your legs felt as if they’d give out at any moment as they wobbled dangerously, but his steadfast grasp around your waist kept you upright.

The early morning sun still climbed in the sky, now out of view of the stained glass. The kitchen was yet again cast in the muted glow as it hid behind the trees, a display of leaves now covered the room in a strange dance. Jungkook was silent behind you, but still holding you close as he waited for your legs to regain their strength. The dishes sat scattered and forgotten in the sink and on the counter. The last of the soap bubbles were popping away and any hint of the colorful display was gone except for the stained glass now hanging somewhat plainly in the window.

He pulled you impossibly closer, face nuzzled into your neck as he hummed a nonsensical tune.

“Thank you,” he whispered. You were silent, knowing he had more to say. “Thank you for bringing color into my world.”

You squeezed his hand that was around your waist. You didn’t have to say much for him to understand, but what he didn’t know was how much he had brought into yours.

“If your love were a grain of sand…” you began.

“Mine,” he said with a whisper and a kiss to your exposed shoulder, “would be a universe of beaches.”

[dovechim]

blessed be the fruit 01 (m)

➾ 3.6k, taehyung x reader, future OT7

➾ loosely based off The Handmaid’s Tale. In the New World Order that is Gilead, your life depends on your ability to bring a new one into existence. 

➾ warnings: unprotected sex, mentions of infertility, pregnancy, mentions of dubcon

➾ a/n: I had serious hesitation and doubts about this. but after a three month break and looking at it from a distance, I still want to go ahead with this AU because I want to draw attention to the themes of reclaiming agency & identity whilst under oppression. So I hope that you could get the message I’m trying to convey rather than focus on the noncon indubitably present in this AU. 

I'm saying this to clearly outline my intentions, for I do not condone rape or non-consensual sex whatsoever. 

that being said, I have plans to turn this into an ot7 series fic, but here is a little starter just to kind of test the waters a little :-) if you’re here, I've already warned you about what you’re signing up for, so please skip this if uncomfortable and refrain from sharing any malicious thoughts with me.

Crimson is the colour that denotes life. But these days, only the rare few have the privilege to don that colour; the deep red hue of the cloak that is meant to simultaneously draw attention to, and also hide your figure.

Handmaids are to be seen and not heard. They are to speak only when spoken to. The white wings that adorn either side of your head keep your gaze lowered reverently at all times. Meek and subdued, but always watching, waiting.

The supermarket is quiet and orderly as you stroll through the aisles with your partner close by your side. You have never seen more than a glimpse of her face, neither have you heard more than a few words of her voice other than the greetings you exchange when you meet every morning.

Even the task of grocery shopping, which you used to enjoy before the rise of Gilead, has become nothing but a sham. There is no decision to be made. Your purchases are entirely dependent on the coupons given to you by the Wife of your Household. Today, it’s the usual rice and vegetables, with one or two oranges thrown in as a request from the Cook.

“Under His Eye,” you murmur as you pass the other Handmaids and their partners, all doing their shopping with their partners.

You can’t see it with your head lowered, but there are armed guards stationed throughout the grocery store with guns cocked and menacing stares. The Eyes are always watching and listening, and you begin to feel suffocated.

“I believe I have everything I need,” you speak in a lowered voice, turning slightly to your partner, thinking of how to best hurry her along without making it too obvious. “Is there anything else you lack?”

“I too, am done, OfJeon,” your partner replies back, and you have to physically stop yourself from flinching.

Even though it is the proper way to address another Handmaid, you avoid using the names bestowed upon you by their Household’s Commanders. You try your best to not associate yourself with that name, for fear that you might come to forget your own in due time, but it gets more and more difficult as the days go by.

‘Of’ denoting possession, and ‘Jeon’ for your Commander’s last name. Put together, they form your identity, the identity that Gilead has carved out for you as an object.

The moment you forget your real name is the moment you lose yourself.

“Let us depart, OfPark,” you say with tightly clenched lips, grateful for the white wings that hide your bitter expression as you turn toward the exit of the grocery store.

Your basket is heavy with groceries, and the wind whips up your red cloak the moment you step outside. You glance up for a moment to see the gray skies, feel the wind on your cheeks before you dip your head down again, cautious of exposing your face for more than a second.

Here, to blend in is to survive.

“Have you made all the necessary preparation, OfJeon?” Your partner asks as she links her arm through yours, and you begin the slow march home.

You drag your feet slightly, hoping to prolong the walk. Aside from the brief half hour of grocery shopping every day, you hardly get a chance to be outside. To remember what the real world feels like, even though it is changing so quickly every day. You’re too busy trying to memorise the way the wind feels against your cloak that you are caught slightly offguard by OfPark’s question.

“Preparation?” Your voice comes out slightly unsure.

“For the Ceremony, of course,” comes her reply, and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling sharply.

Is it already that time of the month? How could you have lost track?

A lump forms in your throat as you attempt to calm yourself. “Yes, OfPark. Everything is ready.”

You are lying through your teeth, but the thing is, interactions are kept to such a bare minimum that no one knows you well enough to know that you are lying. If today is the day of the Ceremony, it means a visit to the doctor’s this afternoon. Your breath speeds up at the thought of it, palms becoming sweaty.

OfPark comes to a stop outside of your house, and unlinks her arm from yours.

“Blessed be the fruit,” she says by way of farewell.

“May the Lord open,” the automatic response falls from your lips without much thinking.

Then the gates open, and you enter the house quietly, setting your basket on the kitchen counter. You can hear footsteps coming from the main hallway as soon as you take your white bonnet off.

“You’re back, I was just about to send a guard to fetch you.” In her royal blue dress that tapers at her waist and falls nearly to her ankles, the Wife of the Household is always neatly pressed and well put together. Kim Yeri fixes you with an annoyed glare as she brushes her silky blonde hair behind her ear. You haven’t known her by that name in a long while, because like any other woman, she is only to be addressed by her title in society.

“Did you forget your appointment?” She demands, crossing her arms. She has never been outrightly mean to you, yet her manner is far from friendly. But its totally understandable, of course. Which woman would be content knowing her husband was required by law to fuck a baby into someone else?

“No, Madam. The line at the supermarket was-“

“Get in the car. We’re already late.” Yeri is not interested in your excuse as she cuts you off, turning to grab her purse, and her dress flows gracefully behind her slim figure as she walks to the door.

You barely have time to put your bonnet back on, fixing it so that it is presentable once more before following her outside. Yeri is already in the back seat of the black SUV car, and you climb in beside her. You catch a glimpse of Driver Jung’s eyes in the mirror, but quickly glance away before Yeri can catch you.

Drivers aren’t allowed to have Handmaids of their own. Instead, they live to serve the Household of their Commanders. As the car pulls smoothly out of the front gate, you begin to wonder who Driver Jung was before Gilead. If he had loved ones that he lost. If he too, was slowly starting to forget the person he was back then.

The blacked-out windows of the car don’t allow you to see anything outside. It is a tense journey made in complete silence as you can feel Yeri’s annoyance slowly mounting into a barely withheld fury. It is the same every month. You try to sympathise with her, to put yourself in her shoes as someone who has to accompany the woman her beloved husband is to have sex with to a fertility check-up.

When the car stops, Driver Jung rushes out of his seat to open the door for Yeri first, then he crosses to your side and opens your door. You thank him with a shy nod, careful to keep your eyes fixed on the ground as you follow Yeri into the clinic.

The waiting room has about one or two other Wife-Handmaid pairs.  As you walk in, you catch the eye of one of the Handmaids who is heavily pregnant. Her swollen belly protrudes from her red cloak, and her hands look so small in comparison as she strokes her bump reverently. The Wife sits beside her, a look of pride on her face as if she were the one pregnant.

It is such a rare sight to see a pregnant Handmaid these days. Even though the Handmaids were specially selected because of their fertility, your lack of a baby bump is bearing down on you. Each Handmaid is given three chances at each assignment. Three chances to conceive before they are moved to the next Commander. Three assignments in total before she is sent to the Wastelands.

Lining the walls are portraits of Commanders dressed in black, and their Wives dressed in blue, holding little bundles wrapped in white. The couples are all smiling with joy and pride in their eyes.

The Handmaids are nowhere to be seen in the happy families of three.

You don’t know if you should envy or pity the heavily pregnant Handmaid.

Thankfully, due to Yeri’s- or should you say your Commander’s- high status, you are bumped to the front of the line. The receptionist tells you to enter the doctor’s room, but Yeri waves you on with disinterest.

“I can wait outside here, can’t I? She won’t dare try anything,” she says this last part with cold frown, settling herself down on one of the waiting chairs.

“Of course, Mrs Jeon,” the receptionist says with a pleasant smile, then turns to show you into the doctor’s office.

You read the name on the door before you are shuffled into the white, sterile room.

Dr Kim Taehyung.

Two female assistants help you to take off your red cloak and dress you in the standard white gown. You sit on the chair, legs spread wide into the stirrups. The assistants lower a privacy curtain that conceals your face, leaving your lower half anonymous as you hear the door open, then the doctor’s footsteps.

You don’t even get to see his face before you feel his touch on your knees. Dr Kim Taehyung clears his throat before he moves to the side, dipping his gloved hands into a small dish of what you can only assume to be lubrication. The white privacy curtain is nothing but a thin sheet, so you can still make out his figure as he bustles about. You can even see the slope of his nose as he turns his side profile to you for a second.

It’s not until he speaks that you are jolted out of your thoughts by how deep his voice is. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” you answer hesitantly, unconsciously crinkling your medical gown in your fist. No one has ever asked how you’re doing.

“That’s great, now let’s have a look, shall we?” You can hear the smile in his voice, and you feel your body relax a little.

He seems to be kind enough, this Dr Kim Taehyung. Much different from the doctor you had on your first visit. Dr Kim Taehyung has his bedside manner down pat, and even though you can’t see his face, he makes you feel a little bit less tense. His voice soothes you as he talks, saying random things about the weather as he spreads your legs.

Dr Kim Taehyung positions himself in between your thighs, and you feel his gloved hands dangerously close to the apex of them. “So, it says here on your chart that tonight is Ceremony night for you.”

“Yes,” you swallow hard at the reminder. “It is.”

“And how are the Jeons treating you? Everything okay at home?” You can feel him spread your lips with his fingers, starting to poke and prod around as you close your eyes.

“Yes. They treat me very well,” you answer.

He must have caught the monotony of your voice, because his fingers pause.

“You know, you can talk to me. If there’s anything you need.” His concerned voice is like a beacon of light, but your eyes dart around the room cautiously.

You think about the millions of things that you could tell him. How unfair it is to be reduced to a walking womb, and yet, how desperate you are, knowing that this is your third month at the Jeon’s household, and if it doesn’t work…

You swallow all of these thoughts with your fists clenched. You can never let your guard down. He might be one of the Eyes, pretending to be kind so that you might let slip a blasphemous comment about your Commander. There’s no way you’ll incriminate yourself like that, so you just keep your mouth shut. After a while, he goes back to examining you.

“… Alright then,” Dr Kim Taehyung says in a resigned tone. “Let me just check you over and make sure everything is good for tonight. This might feel a little uncomfortable, but just relax for me alright?”

You can’t help but tense up, ironically, at his instruction. But then you feel the warmth of one of his ungloved hands on your thigh, and as he bids you to relax again, he slides his fingers into you, and you can feel his fingers, thick and solid. Your thighs twitch, coming into contact with his hips that are in between them, and he lets out a gentle laugh.

“It’s okay… just a little more.”

Then, he withdraws his fingers slowly, and you let out a breath of relief. It didn’t feel bad, definitely not like the first visit where you felt violated. Dr Kim Taehyung’s gentle and respectful manner is… almost pleasant. You’ve long forgotten what it’s like to be treated like a human being, and not just an object.

“Looks like everything’s in shape, you’re due to ovulate these few days,” he declares, taking off his rubber gloves and tossing them in the bin. “Not that it matters, anyway. Jeon’s probably sterile. Hell, all of the Commanders are sterile.”

You freeze at the sound of that blasphemous curse word. But more importantly, you have to make sure you heard correctly.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You watch his shadow behind the sheet as he ticks a few things on your chart.

In this society, ‘sterile’ is a forbidden word. There is no such thing as a sterile man. There are only women who are fruitful, and women who are barren. But you know better than to subscribe to such damning ideology.

“Darling. I’ve seen so many top Commanders’ Handmaids in this room. In and out, month after month they come back and their Wives ask me why they aren’t pregnant yet.” He places a hand on your knee again, and that human contact makes you realise how much you crave the warmth of another person.

At the same time, his words awaken the hollow desperation in your chest. If… if Jeon is really sterile, that means no matter how many times you try, you won’t get pregnant. If all the Commanders are really sterile, then no matter how many assignments you get…

“It’s your third month here, isn’t it?” His kind voice accompanies the gentle stroke of his thumb on your knee.

Before you can answer, he steps away from you, walking to the door and double checking that it’s locked. Then, he’s between your legs again, and this time, his ungloved hands are caressing the top of your thighs. You can feel his hips pressing against you insistently.

“I can help you,” he says in a low whisper. “It’s your last chance.”

Your mind is in a fog. It’s hard to think clearly when you are craving his touch on your body, and the way in which he wraps your legs around his waist so delicately has you wanting to give in. Let this be a form of rebellion. An act of reclaiming your body and your agency, giving it to a man who treats you like a human being, and more importantly, deciding who you give it to. So that when Jeon performs the Ceremony with you tonight, no one but you will have the secret pleasure of knowing that someone else was here before him.

And if you do get pregnant, you will have the last laugh as you watch Jeon raise a baby that isn’t even his to begin with.

How’s that for rebelling? It’s no longer just about getting pregnant.

“I’ve helped many other Handmaids before,” Dr Kim Taehyung continues furtively. “They were all on their third Assignments. I saved them from the Wastelands.”

You don’t need any more convincing. You reach out and pull the thin privacy sheet aside, finally revealing Dr Kim Taehyung’s face. He looks taken aback at your bold actions.

“Do it, Doctor,” you fix your eyes on him with determination. “Get me pregnant.”

Dr Kim Taehyung looks as if he wasn’t expecting you to say yes to him, and delight slowly spreads across his face. But he can’t help himself from bringing one of his hands to your face, brushing your cheek and admiring your silent, resilient beauty.

“U-um, okay. He-here goes,” he fumbles with his dress pants, and the confidence from minutes ago is nowhere to be found. It occurs to you that he might have been fibbing about helping the other Handmaids before you, but it doesn’t matter. It’s no longer just about getting pregnant, anyway.

Thanks to the lubrication, he slides in easily. You catch a glimpse of him before he does, and a second later you feel his girth acutely. During the Ceremony, the lights are always turned off, so you never have a chance to see what Jeon’s dick looks like. If you were to compare, it feels around the same as Dr Kim’s. Except this time, you are doing this of your own accord.

The squeaking of the chair against the floor is deafeningly loud as he begins to thrust earnestly, and the thrill that you could be caught at any moment makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been since the rise of Gilead. You can feel him at your cervix as he grips your thighs, and you make sure to wrap them around him tightly.

In an unprecedented move, Dr Kim reaches down to brush his thumb against your clit, and your walls clench around him in response. He swears under his breath as he shifts his position to rest his elbows on either side of you so that he can increase the strength behind his thrusts.

“Sh-shit, you feel so good,” he groans as he sneaks his hand in between your bodies once more to pinch your clit. No one has cared about your pleasure like this in a long while, and you feel your body responding to his ministrations, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Ha-harder, Doctor,” you feel his cheek press against your breast. “Cum inside me.”

You swear you can feel him twitch inside you, as he bites his lip hard. You have a hard time holding back your derisive laughter as Dr Kim Taehyung gets more turned on than ever. So this is his kink? This is the perfect job for him. Seeing Handmaids who are more often than not desperate to get pregnant, no matter by whom.

You feel a modicum of power back in the palm of your hand, which is more than you’ve felt in ages. The feeling of having power over someone else as you watch the pleasure take over Dr Kim Taehyung’s expression is addictive. The man is losing himself in between your legs, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh. Meanwhile you are the one watching him rut pathetically, straining to reach his end.

“Cum inside me, Doctor,” you say again, squeezing your walls around him and relishing his groan. “I’ll make you cum inside me.”

“Pl-please, call me Taehyung,” he pleads, raising himself up on his elbows to beg for a kiss.

You oblige, watching his desperation slowly take over his entire being. His lips are soft as he kisses you like a man starved, and you wonder who was the last person he kissed like this. Does he kiss all of the Handmaids he impregnates?

The next words you say are perfectly calculated. “Taehyung, I want your baby.”

There’s no reaction other than his hands clenching into tight fists, and his breathing getting harsher and harsher as his cock slams deep into you, and you clench around him one more time, only to feel him fill you up with his cum. The seed that you need to get pregnant and save your own life.

He doesn’t stop thrusting. His cock is still twitching inside you, and you can still feel the cum threaten to leak out. Dr Kim Taehyung lets out a long sigh of contentment as he expertly tilts the chair so that your hips are slightly raised.

When he’s satisfied, he slowly pulls out, eyes glued to the mess in between your legs. Only a little bit of cum is dripping out, and he reaches for a tissue to clean it up. The way he’s looking at you, a little bit too fondly, makes you realise that this is getting a bit too personal for your liking.

“Blessed be the fruit,” you remind him, and the phrase is like magic. You are all reminded of your roles in this society, and the forbidden act which you have both committed.

Dr Kim Taehyung seems to sober up when he hears this, as he tucks himself back into his pants and attempts to straighten his doctor’s coat.

“May the Lord open. You should… um. Stay here for the next ten to fifteen minutes. The nurses will be in to help you get dressed shortly,” he clears his throat as he lets the privacy curtain fall back into place. “And um… good luck.”

He leaves the room hurriedly, and you close your eyes, squeezing your thighs together and feeling the warmth that his cum leaves behind, feeling like your body is finally yours again.

You don’t know how much time has passed before the nurses come in and help you get dressed, and when you walk out of the room, Yeri makes a pointed remark about how long she had to wait. You follow her without a word to the car, waiting as Driver Jung opens the door for her, then you.

All the while, a secret smile upon your lips as you feel the cum from earlier drip down your inner thigh.

[f33itan]

Hello! Could I get some one shots of the trouble trio (phinks,shalnark,feitan)getting caught checking out their s/o? Of that too much than just one of feitan! Thaaanks. ✨

THIS ^^^^ I LOVE THIS

I made the reader a female, sorry about that. If you wanted it to be different PLEASE let me know so I can tweak it!!

I accidentally deleted Fei’s oneshot at first because my fucking laptop doesn’t allow me to save drafts from requests 😭 I tried to rewrite it bc I was proud anyways

*also ps u don’t have to have big badonkers for this, just enough that you can see a little bit there*

Trouble Trio getting caught Checking Out their s/o!

Feitan Portor

It was early in the morning when you two woke up. After many promises, considerations, and LOTS of begging and convincing, you managed to get Feitan to go to the beach with you.

The night before you had packed everything you guys would need: Sunscreen, towels, food and snacks, shade, chairs, everything. Now you were changing into your bathing suit as was he, facing each others backs respectfully. Once you were finished you grabbed some last minute things and started to pack everything into the car. You both got everything and started driving.

Now the beach was about an hour and a half away so you both agreed to stop by a drive thru and get some quick breakfast. After doing so you continued down the road.

For the most part you avoided traffic, since it was early in the morning, but after nearing the beach it seemed as though the freeway was decently packed. This didn’t bother you since it wasn’t that bad, but Feitan was getting quite irritated.

“Are we, almost there?” You could practically see the venom spat out from his tone, not directed at you but to the ‘nuisances’ blocking the road.

“Yes Fei we’re almost there.”

“These people, are annoying. Drive.”

“Feitan we could crash into somebody if we did that, then we would ESPECIALLY not go to the beach!” Feitan grumbled something and slumped in his seat, as you turned on the radio and changed it to your favorite station. You began to hum the song and bop your head to the beat of the music, this eventually turning into a light dance whilst in the driver’s seat. After a couple of minutes you heard a ‘Click!’ come from Feitan’s side.

“Fei, what did you just do??” He didn’t respond to this, though he showed you his phone. On it was a photo of you dancing and smiling.

“FEITAN PORTOR DELETE THAT NOW”

“Nope 🖤” 

“Sone of a.. SHIIITT!!” You stepped on the gas pedal as the honks of people behind you registered in your head. The traffic had been moving this whole time and Feitan didn’t even bother to tell you! All the while you could hear him cracking up in his seat.

By the time you arrived at the beach, unloaded your things from the car, found a spot in the sand and unpacked everything, it was about 11 AM. All that was left to do was undress down to your swimwear, apply sunscreen and head in the water. Undress down to your swimwear... Feitan didn’t like this.

Does she have to do this in front of all of these people?

What if people start checking her out?

What the fuck?

Nevertheless you began to pull up your shirt. You weren’t wearing anything too revealing, just a simple (f/c) one piece that fit well around your body, showing a slight bit of cleavage. Pulling down your shorts as well, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Very familiar eyes..

“FEITAN ARE YOU CHECKING ME OUT?”

“N- no” You could see the blush on his face from the couple feet away you were from him. You picked up your clothes and hurled them at his face as hard as you could, which to your surprise he didn’t dodge.

“Pervy Feitan pervy Feitan pervy Feitan”

“I’M NOT, A PERVERT.”

“Mhm, sure you aren-” You felt him pick you up and begin to speed walk towards the water, I’m sure you could guess what happened next.

Shalnark Ryusei

You and Shalnark had been planning this for a while. A fun couple’s night out with a fancy dinner, movies and cuddling on the couch. You and your partner were finishing up getting dressed as you heard a weird honk from outside.

“Alright princess let’s go!”

“Huh? Wait-” You couldn’t really object since Shal picked you up bridal style and began walking out the door towards a.. limo?

“Shalbaby, you didn’t have to do thiiss.” You chuckled and looked at your blushing boyfriend.

“Of course I did! I’m always off on missions and don’t get to see you too often!! I have to make it up to you somehow!” You heard the driver scoff at your guys’ gushy talk, and in the blink of an eye Shalnark shot a pin in his neck and told him to drive to your first destination, to which he obliged at will. 

Once the two of you arrived you had an amazing 3 coursed meal, each dish even better than the last. Chit-chatting the whole time, it felt as though you grew even closer to your boyfriend. Not by being at an amazing restaurant and not by doing amazing things with him, but because you WERE with him. Talking and laughing together, sharing sad and fun memories, every time you were with him you felt that you couldn’t fall for him again, but here you were, head over heels. Shalnark payed for the dinner and you both thanked the waitress. Walking back to the limo you guys sat and talked some more while heading to the best movie theater in town. 

Even after the movie, it appeared Shal had some more things in town, and with this you ended up going to an ice cream parlor, arcade, and finally stopping by the troupe’s current hideout to say hi. Heading back home you practically collapsed from all of the fun you two had.

Barley being able to walk back to your guys’ room, you changed into some lazy pajamas and Shal changed into his. As you were pulling down your comfy shirt you felt two muscular arms wrap around your waist and fell onto the bed.

“SHALL I WAS CHANGING!!” You both started giggling like children as you flipped yourself over and gave him a kiss on his cheek. You could tell his eyes were wandering though, and soon you realized he was staring at your chest. You grabbed a pillow from behind you and pushed down on his face with it, hearing a startled Shalnark yelp from beneath.

“That’s what you get for being a perv-” *POMPH* He pulled the pillow off of his face and smacked you with it, resulting in a full blown pillow fight with you two passing out on the couch. 

Phinks Magcub

You were feeling like a bit of a tease today so you decided to dress in some rather revealing clothes. A skirt shorter than the average, some thigh highs and a crop top, all to get a reaction out of your boyfriend. 

Phinks was sitting in the living room snacking and watching some tv as he thought you were still asleep. It was about 10 in the morning so you decided to waltz into the kitchen and make breakfast. 

“Hey bab... babe?” He couldn’t finish his sentence as his eyes looked you up and down. Drool was practically falling out of his mouth but you pretended to not notice, still making breakfast.

“Morning baby! How’d you sleep?” Phinks shook his head back into reality.

“G- good, you?”

“I slept pretty well, thanks for asking.” Swinging your hips while plating the food almost pushed Phinks over the edge as his face now looked as red as a tomato.

“Is it feeling a bit warm to you? I’m going to go turn on the AC heh..” You ran in front of your boyfriend and jumped onto him like a koala. At this rate he might as well be a cartoon character because he was fuming. He didn’t have the strength to speak out any words, and all you did was laugh.

“I know you were staring at me earlier~”

“H- HUhH? What would make you think that? I was just watching tv!”

“Then why are your hands on my ass right now?”

Phinks flat out passed out, right there, onto the floor.

[caramelcal]

his favorite club

warnings: swearing, arguing, talks of murder, gangs, use of weapons etc. don’t read if you are not comfortable with these! 

word count: 2.5k

a/n: HELLO!!!! WELCOME BACK TO THE NEXT LUKE/BAMBI POST!

thank you so much for all the love anons <3

requests: Anonymous asked:

Could you write a Luke x gang where him and the reader are fighting and maybe his arm goes up and she thinks he’s going to hit her but would never and it’s fluffy in the end?

Anonymous asked:

For the Luke x gang could you write something angsty like maybe he doesn’t come home on time like usual and y/n is really worried idk maybe goes to his place of business and it starts a big fight and the reader gets a bit scared of how mad he is? Idk you can take it in any direction.

Anonymous asked:

Loved the new Luke post. Was wondering if the next part could have some danger concerning the reader? Or maybe she sees the dangerous part of him and it scares her?

The only sound filling the apartment was the sounds of the small girl's shoes hitting off of the floor loudly, and the soft but irritating clicking of the clock that stood on the wall in front of her. It was 8:13 pm. Over an hour later than Luke had said he was going to be.

Bambi knew the dangers of the work that Luke lived in, but he had only ever been once late and even then, she had got a text explaining that he would be. Yet, this time, she never got a text, a call, nothing.

Radio silence.

Her stomach clenched up every time she thought about the possibilities of what could have happened to Luke. She wouldn't consider herself a pessimist, but she can't exactly say that she was expecting the best.

She was sure that if Luke didn't get home soon, the floor would have worn away from the amount of pacing she was doing right now. The clock continued to tick on, each movement from the small circular thing stuck on the wall bringing her more and more anxiety.

He should be home.

Maybe that's why she found herself in one of Luke's cars, somehow managing to sneak past the two members of Luke's gang that she had seen on the way down, and evading Jacob, Luke's personal driver.

In fact, Bambi hadn't driven a car since she moved in with Luke, always being driven around by either Jacob or Luke himself. It felt weird being behind a wheel again, but she didn't have time to dwell on it or soak up in the power she felt inkling into her chest before she was speeding out of the garage, onto the main highway of the city.

If Bambi was being honest, she probably broke about seven driving laws (if there were that many, probably, she thought) on the way to the club that Luke often found himself at. He never brought her there, and actually, forbid her from coming to altogether, but she knew he couldn't be too mad considering it was all about her concern about him.

From the moment she walked in, she felt out of place. Men in dark button-ups, cigarettes falling from their lips, women in minimal and sexy clothing, drinks all around. The red luminous lights of the bar being the only light provided. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for her tall boyfriend but it was really difficult.

A lot of the people in here were very tall, much taller than Bambi was, so trying to see over them was impossible. She was very out of place, alone, scared, and looked far too good to be in such a twisted club.

Somehow, she managed to make her way over to the bar, where she recognized a figure with his back turned towards her, making a cocktail. It was only seconds after when he turned around, dimpled face on display, he almost spilled the drink on him with how fast he stopped upon seeing her.

His eyes whipped around wildly around the club before walking over to her and whispering, "You shouldn't be here! Didn’t Luke forbid you from coming here? You need to leave!"

"Nice to see you too, Ash," Bambi couldn't help the sarcasm falling off of her lips before she asked, "Luke never got home. Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine, he just got caught up with some paperwork and stuff, he should be back soon,"

"Paperwork?" She asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at the gang member.

"Well yeah, just updating a file on the drug run today just to say it went well," Ashton shrugged lightly, "he should be done soon."

Even though Ashton shrugged it off well, Bambi knew he was lying. She could feel it in her bones, in her gut, that he was lying and she was determined to find out the truth.

She shrugged lightly, "Well if it's just paperwork then he won't mind me being there."

With that, she stalked away from the bar in search of the backrooms, wasting no time for Ashton to catch up with her as she went on her way. She walked around the back hallways, looking for any indication of Luke's presence.

The rooms were silent. All but one.

"Please! I don't know anything! Stop!" It was a plead filled with both pain and desperation but it was quickly cut off with the sound of a swift but powerful hit.

Her pulse raced, legs shakily making their way towards the room, gently pushing the door open. It was silent, the door, cracking open so that the small girl could see.

Bambi felt sick.

She could see her boyfriend’s blond curls held up in a hair tie she had loaned him earlier this morning, bloody hand reaching up high as he punched the poor boy on the chair again.

“I’ll give you one more chance before I use something more than my hand,” He threatened gruffly, causing Bambi to flinch. Her breath was caught in her throat, eyes welling up in tears. She knew she shouldn’t have been so upset, she knew her boyfriend was a gang member, but something about seeing him doing this to someone with the same hands that caressed her and made her feel safe felt...wrong.

Suddenly, Ashton entered another door that entered into the room that Luke was in, alerting both Luke and Michael, who had been overlooking the situation. Only then did Bambi realize that Luke had picked up an object, it glinting in the light as he moved towards the door that Ashton had entered.

Luke was holding a knife.

A soft gasp escaped Bambi’s lips, thankfully not loud enough for Luke to hear. She didn’t want him near her, not right now anyway. She didn’t even want him to look at her.

“She’s here! You need to stop, Luke!” Bambi took that as her clear to get the hell out of there. If what Ashton said was true, about Luke being mad she was here, she didn’t want him to find her. Not anymore, anyway.

She didn’t want him to get anywhere near him. How could she possibly sleep at night knowing the man that slept beside her, that played with her hair, that made her feel safe, did that to people? What if he got so mad that he did that to her?

She was being irrational, but at that moment she couldn’t help it.

She shuffled backward, away from the door that led to the room Luke was in, choosing to swiftly get away from him now that she could.

Now, she wasn’t scared for Luke, she was scared of Luke.

“Hey kid, where are you goin'?” Calum asked as she crashed into his chest, making her stumble back lightly, mouth ajar.

She went to speak, to come up with some excuse but she didn’t have time. She couldn’t sit here and entertain Calum with a nice, little conversation when she was trying to evade her boyfriend.

That’s why she just turned, maneuvering around her, and started to run.

“Bambi!” The girl became rigid as she heard him shout, becoming increasingly aware that he had caught up to her, and was planning on talking to her. It was almost as if she was frozen in place, unable to move into the car and unable to move towards him, not that she wanted to. However, she could hear him come to a stop behind her, his voice softer as he spoke, trying not to gather any attention towards the couple, “Why are you here? I thought I told you that you weren’t allowed at the club?”

Her mouth ran dry, unable to respond. In fact, she acted as if she never heard him speak, afraid of what he would do if she pissed him off. Yet, her silence was probably the most angering thing to the tall blond boyfriend of hers, which became obvious when he spoke next.

“Bambi? Let me get you out of here, I’ll drive,” He went to grab the car keys out of her hand, but she had seen his shadow when he went to grab them, quickly jerking out of his grasp, turning around, and staring up at him.

She didn’t miss the slight shock in his eyes when she did so, or the irritancy that bubbled deep beneath. Her throat felt thick, clouded, but she quickly cleared it, voice forceful as she stared up at the gang member, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Bambi, what the hell are you talking about? Just let me drive and we can talk about this when we get home lets not cause a scene,” Luke was trying to reason with the girl, not cause a scene in front of his men, but Bambi was not having it. She wasn’t about to get into a car with him, shaking her head wildly, “Bambi.”

His tone was a warning, deep voice, cold tone. It was demanding but Bambi was not in the mood for Luke to boss her about, especially not right now.

“What? You don’t want people to realize that we’re fighting and that I’m your girlfriend, is that it?” The words were flying out of the girl’s mouth before she could stop them and Luke’s blue eyes glared down at her, his jaw ticking.

“Is this really what this is about?” Luke asked, referring to the argument they had gone through all of those weeks ago. Yet, that it isn’t. The problem was that Bambi saw something she wasn’t supposed to, that Luke had tried to shield her from as best as he could. Even if it meant that she wasn’t allowed near his favorite club.

“You nearly killed him, Luke.”

Her voice was painfully quiet, muttering in a way that makes it obvious she had to force the words out. Her fists are clenched at her sides, her eyes looking down to evade the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Bambi you don’t know what you saw-”

“You had a knife, Luke! I saw you punch him just look at your hands right now they’re-” She stopped briefly, glancing down at the man’s hands, the ones that gave her such tender, sweet love. The ones that made her feel safe, yet now? All she seen was all of the blood coating them, some dry some relatively fresh, “they’re covered in his blood.”

Luke flexed his hands slightly, feeling the blood coating them become ever so evident, “What else am I supposed to do? What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? I work in a fucking gang, you knew this.”

“I didn’t think-” The girl cut herself off, shaking her head as tears rose to her eyes, shielding her view.

“What the fuck do you think I do? Hand out fucking rainbow stickers and give them a nice hug? That’s not how this works, you know this,” His voice was harsh, and slowly rising to a loud level, and all Bambi wants is to go and hide away from him; to be by herself. She can’t handle this, not right now.

“How can you expect me to be ok with this?” The girl asked, “It’s sick! It’s twisted! You could have killed that guy!”

“Don’t suddenly go getting morals just because you saw a bit of fucking blood! We’re leaving. Now,” His voice is demanding, loud and borderline shouting, his hand coming down towards her rapidly to grab the car keys off of her but then he froze at the movement from the small girl in front of him.

She flinched.

Silence filled them both.

The tears that tracked down her face started to build in his eyes, his heart dropping to his feet when he saw the girl cower. It was barely for a second when she shielded her head, in the same place he had hit that guy barely five minutes before like he was going to hit her.

He spluttered with his mouth ajar. Bambi, his Bambi, the one he had worked so hard to protect, to love, to cherish, was scared of him. He just wanted to comfort her, to hold her close and let her know that everything was going to be okay. Yet, he couldn’t comfort her that he would battle all her fears when he was what she was scared of.

“Bambi...” It was a sad plead.

The girl never replied, tears becoming thicker as she shook her head. She was overcome with emotions. Afraid, sad, ashamed, angry; she wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling at that moment.

“Bambi I’d never...”

The girl wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Never in his whole life had Luke felt so ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he would ever let a fragment of his girl believe he would ever harm her or put her in harm’s way.

He would do everything to make sure she was okay.

“I need to go,” The girl gingerly wiped her tears with her -Luke’s- jumper, the large sleeves rolled up but still covering her hands fully. She entered the car and Luke made no move to stop her, he didn’t care that she had taken one of his cars at that moment, he didn’t care that she had disobeyed his orders of coming to the club, he didn’t care about anything other than how he had wronged her.

Then, he was left by himself, in the middle of the club’s back parking lot, blood still coating his hands that even made him feel sick now. The cold night air nipped at his skin, yet again reminding him that he was void of her warmth. He was all alone.

He returned home all of twenty minutes later, a fresh pair of clothes on and hands bare of blood. The house was quiet but he knew that she was there, the bedroom door ever so slightly ajar, a faint light emitting from the room.

He leaned against the door frame, watching her with a sullen face as she packed. She was only packing a few outfits, not anything major as she sniffed lightly. She was still crying, Luke noticed, and it made his heart ache, “I’m leaving for Anna’s. I just need some time.”

Luke knew he was in no position to argue with the girl right now. She was fragile enough as it is, and even if Luke didn’t want her to leave, she needed space and he respected that.

She slung the overnight bag over her shoulder, hefting it up, “I’ve called an Uber. They’re waiting downstairs.”

Luke nodded as Bambi stopped in front of him, and almost hesitantly, he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead, “Stay safe, ok? I love you.”

The girl nodded her head, sending the boy a tight-lipped smile before leaving, leaving Luke alone once again. Yet, despite the heartbreak, he felt in that moment as she left, he knew this wasn’t the end. He’d manage to make it up to her, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t rest easy until he did.

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Canine (Revenant x Reader)

Part 2 of 2 of the chapter “Styptic & Canine”. [AO3 Link to full chapter]

Theme: Revenant introduces the reader to his makeshift family as he turns up the spice level, but an unfortunate run in with a creep ruins most of the day.

Warnings: Graphic content, physical male dominance, threats of violence, blood, descriptions of violence, sexual references, sexual harassment, sharp objects, pain, bipolar, depression, mentions of mania, general romantic fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: This post was too big. 18K words. This is part 2 of a larger chapter that is “Styptic & Canine”. I’m posting it in halves so Tumblr doesn’t die. Also, yes, this chapter is where I start raising the heat. My intent was to boil the frog, but Tumblr made me split right where I first turn on the gas stove.

Navigation: First Chapter | Previous Part (Styptic & Canine) | Next Chapter

You regain consciousness to a mild shake, his hands around each of your cheeks and his frame vaulted over your body in a sitting position.

"Oh dear, little skinsuit, what was that about?" His voice drips with some kind of sadistic humor.

"What was what about?" The morning light was shining through the skylight. He obviously let you sleep in a bit, for which you were grateful. You couldn't remember any dreams though, it was all blank.

"Don't play stupid, you must know." He's way too into this. "I want to know if it was me."

"I really don't remember. Why, what did I do?"

He lurches back in some kind of cruel delight, pulling his hands away to cup around his own face, accentuating his joy.

"Then maybe you'll know the answer to this: who is 'daddy'?"

Your face gets hot instantly, now you know why he's so interested. He has prime material to hold over your head for days. You have one potential way out and he isn't likely to buy it.

"I never met my father, so I'm not sure..." You try.

"Oh, I guessed as much. But this wasn't that kind of daddy." He places each of his hands on the sides of your waist, making you blush harder. "Your hips were absolutely reeling. I could hear how much you were loving it. You still smell like lust. So, I must know... who is the lucky one to have the title of 'daddy'?" Your face is burning. Your attempt to get out of this has definitely and utterly failed.

"I don't know! I've never even--" You cut yourself off, realizing that saying more is only playing into his game.

"Oh please, you must tell me." He leans over to whisper in your ear, curling over you in a seductive manner. "I'll keep it a secret, I promise. I just want to know who makes you writhe like that. Clearly I could learn something." This asshole. Your face actually hurts it's so hot. You can't get out of this, and you don't even have an answer for him. You've never even called anyone that before.

"Please, can I get up?" You beg, hoping it can just be over.

"Oh no, dear," You feel yourself screaming internally as he nuzzles his mask against the side of your face, "I can't let you do that. No, no... Not until you humor me." He presses his body into you, and you audibly whimper. "Call me daddy."

You're dead. You have to be dead. This can't be real. You can't humor him, but you have to humor him. Why is he like this? If you say it really fast, maybe it'll be okay. Maybe he'll accept it.

"Can I get up...?" You choke. "...daddy..." You didn't say it fast, but you said it with zero confidence, which hopefully dampens his power trip.

He throws himself off of you, laughing something fierce. His guffaw is loud, cruel, and pure delight. He's completely overtaken by it, laying back beside you, almost twitching in hilarity. He can't control himself as he lifts his hand as if to wipe away a tear.

He shuts down again, turning limp.

You jump out of bed, giving yourself distance from his metal sarcophagus, knowing whatever comes next might not be pleasant. You make your way to the computer desk, sitting on the office chair, waiting to see what he does this time.

His chassis begins to whirr and cracks into movement, his arms grabbing at air beside him as he tests every limb in violent bends and swings. The static begins in his voice, before suddenly slipping into something audible.

"You-you moved away." His empty optics seem to stare at you from a distance as he sits up. "I wanted to hold-hold you again..." His tone was soft, but his vocals were still skipping. "Shame, daddy will get you next-next time."

His eyes come back to life, and he's aware again.

"Well, just say how you really feel then, huh?" You jab back, waiting to see how he reacts. He chuckles a little, a mere echo of the laugh that forced him to restart.

"Well, I'll make it up to you. How do you feel about making a trip to meet my little family?"

"Family? I thought--"

"Oh, not like that, of course. Just the closest thing I have." He smiles smugly at you, seeing an opportunity. "You don't need to worry, no one competes with you."

Damn blush, you're going to turn red permanently if he doesn't stop.

He vaults out of bed, making his way over to you.

"I let you sleep in, thankfully what you're wearing is ideal for the job already." He offers his hand. When you take it, he hoists you to your feet. "It should help with any sad feelings too, how are those going by the way?"

"With how things have been going, I haven't had the chance to be depressed..." You're almost embarrassed that his plan to keep throwing you off your depression is working so well.

"Good, keep showering me with all your attention then." He squeezes your hand a bit before letting go. At this rate he could make you manic again if he keeps pushing it. You're just not sure if you should let him. "I've arranged a ride for us, since I don't think you can run this far."

"Oh, alright, sure. Do I need to do anything? I feel kinda like I should take a shower..." It's very strange that you're going someplace wearing dirty clothes with no shower.

"Trust me, you'd be better off doing that after."

• • • •

Revenant can't drive, apparently. To the point in which he's actually enough of a liability that he's not allowed to drive anywhere outside of the Apex Games. He wasn't very happy with the idea of having a chauffeur, but the legal team was able to convince him to accept being driven in exchange for a vehicle that separated him from the driver. That vehicle was a limo. A giant, stretch limo. A very luxurious limo. Versus you, who is a mess: dressed in a stained shirt you slept in and you haven't washed your hair. This is embarrassing.

"This dumb thing is almost ten yards long, and you have to be right up against me, don't you?" Revenant is sitting far in the back corner, and you've wedged yourself right between him and the corner, trying your best to hide yourself from any phantom that might see you.

"I'm in a limo and I look like I belong in a garbage truck." You duck away from the windows, shoving your face up against the black leather of his waist, careful to avoid the support pistons.

"Literally no one can see you except me." He scoffs, crossing his arms. "The windows are blacked out, the driver's privacy window is closed, and nobody is here but us." His eyes glare down at you, but he seems to be moderately entertained by your distress.

"I look homeless." You pause. "Again."

Revenant laughs at that, uncurling his arms to mess up your hair in some kind of adoring but condescending gesture.

"You're fine, trust me. Nobody is going to see you." He pauses from messing with your hair. "I have a stop coming up, just stay in here and I'll be back with some supplies."

"Be fast, I need to hide behind someone and you're the only one here." You're being intentionally dramatic, but if it makes him laugh it's worth it. He sighs equally as dramatically, clearly playing along.

The vehicle hovers to a stop, and Revenant wisps out the door, closing it behind him before you even get a sense for where you are. The windows really are blacked out, you can't see anything through them.

Now alone, you shrink into the back corner of the seats going around the vehicle. There's a television and what appears to be a loaded bar, multicolored LED lights lining the whole thing, and starlights in the ceiling. The seats are all made with beautiful leather and have a triangular pattern stitched in the surface. The floor has carpeted mats that feel a bit more plush than the average car. You consider rummaging through the bar, but you're not sure if anyone is going to charge you an arm and a leg for alcohol you can get cheaper anywhere else. You sigh and lean back, shrinking further in the seat.

The door on the opposite corner as you clicks open, and Revenant crawls in, dragging a massive green bag behind him, barely managing to get it in the car.

"Is that a body bag?!" You curl up in the fetal position on your seat, recoiling away from the door.

"Yes." He gruffly huffs as he drags the apparent bagged corpse into the limo, weighing the whole vehicle down. He gets it in the middle of the floor, then drops it with a thud and throws himself down beside you. With his weight, you feel like you nearly missed being crushed. His arm rests on your opposite shoulder and you shudder, giving him a concerned stare. "Oh shush, I paid for it."

"You what?" You whimper, completely at a loss of what you're experiencing.

"It'll be fine, I can't rightly show up without any offering." He shrugs his shoulders, pulling you closer. He seems to be very pleased with himself, smugly teasing you.

"Offering?! Is this a cult?!" You whisper aloud, not necessarily expecting an answer. He laughs again, enjoying your mental wheels spinning. The limo gets moving again, handling the extra weight very easily.

"Oh, no, that's for next time." He's obviously teasing now. "I'll make sure you're in a lovely white dress to soak in the blood of our sacrifices for that occasion." He shoves you up against his chassis, growling to rattle his torso against you. "Then, when we're all done, I'll make official my new nickname."

"Oh, fuck you." You let slip under your breath, causing him to guffaw openly again. He catches his synthetic breath, rubbing his mask in the same motion a human would.

"You've gotten so comfortable with me so quickly, what happened?" His question must be rhetorical, because he doesn't leave much of a pause for an answer. He jumps right back into teasing. "I'll have to tame you by any means necessary if you're going to keep being so temptingly coy." His hands cup around your waist and you crack a sigh, turning away from him, trying to focus on anything other than how red in the face you must be.

"Do you regularly flirt in front of fresh corpses?"

"Awww..." He grabs your chin and pulls your face back to meet his, bringing his visage down close enough to feel his breath. "Are you kink-shaming me? Or are you just being a prude little tease?" He pauses before snickering to himself, losing his flirtatious composure. "You're so red, you practically match me." His loss of composure is cute enough to get to you. You giggle a little.

The car comes to a gentle stop, and Revenant immediately gets to pulling the corpse out. The body bag is way larger than makes sense, it almost looks as if it could fit someone Revenant's size. Yet the body inside still seems way too big. You're not sure what it is, but you're a bit too afraid to ask at the same time. Revenant eventually gets the bag to the edge of the vehicle before throwing it over one of his shoulders, forcing his shoulder spikes to flip downward out of the way. He nearly topples over at the shifting weight, meaning whatever is in the bag is excessively heavy.

As you crawl out of the car after him, you smell the fresh air of being nowhere near civilization. You see lots of flat lands broken up by woods with a giant abandoned warehouse in front of you. The warehouse has holes rusted throughout its sides and the door is ajar, the hinges rusted so it no longer swings. The air is fresh, and you look around, unable to find signs of other humans close by. Revenant waves away the limo. It turns around, kicking up dust off the unpaved path before zooming off into the horizon. He waits until the limo is far enough before pulling you close.

"You have to listen to everything I say, understand?" He's dead serious. You nod, suddenly concerned over his change in tone. "Don't try to protect me, I'll be okay. Scream if and only if you feel pain." You search for any joking tone in his voice, but there is none. "But above all else, listen to me. Don't play stupid, just obey." He looks to you, demanding acknowledgement. You nod, determined and concerned at this new development.

He walks over to the door, making his way inside carefully as you follow. He throws the body bag on the concrete floor of the entryway, causing a morbid slapping sound as it hits the ground. Revenant kneels down and begins ripping the bag open. You take a moment to look around.

This whole warehouse is dark beyond belief. There seems to be different rooms, but the rusted-through holes in the wall allow you to get negligible peeks into nearby rooms. The roof has not decayed at all yet, but it means no light is entering the building, making the deeper rooms be cast in an oppressive darkness. From the outside this warehouse looked massive, this room must be only one of dozens. The silence is scary, there isn't a single sound of life apart from you and Revenant, but you know better. Silence means something doesn't want to be found, and is inevitably a sign of life. Silence only happens when a hunter has scared everything else into silence. You might have learned that from Bloodhound, but you can't be sure. Either way, it's anxiety-inducing.

Revenant stands tall, pulling the scraps of the bag away from a giant bisection of a carcass. It appears to be beef, in the same state butchers will sell to grocers or restaurants. It doesn't smell bad, but it definitely smells like raw meat. Revenant grabs you around the shoulder, pulling you into a very controlling embrace. He whistles, or something like it.

"C'mere puppies!" As soon as he says it, you hear the sound of many nails skittering around the concrete flooring, making their way to the room you're in. Revenant squeezes you close as the pack comes into sight.

"Revenant! Those are not dogs!" You can't help but whisper in shock as the pack stops in your line of sight, trying to get a read on whether you're a threat or not.

Prowlers are utterly terrifying predators. They can be described as something between a wild dog and a tiger with the hide of a dinosaur. Their quadrupedal forms stand tall enough to meet you eye-to-eye at the largest, but the females and younger prowlers come up to your waist or knees instead. This subspecies has a beautiful, peacock-like furl behind their ears that stand on end when they see you, making them look as kaleidoscopic as they are scary. Their fangs could make a saber tooth tiger swoon, and their colors remind you of the legendary Birds of Paradise. Their long tails flick back and forth in concern, trying to understand who you are or if they should fight you. The largest male growls so deeply that Revenant sounds like a kitten in comparison, and it approaches both of you ahead of the rest of the pack.

"Rev..." You start to step behind him. This creature could very easily kill you in a single bite to the neck, and he was already tall enough to reach it.

"Shush, listen to me." He whispers to you, using his grip around your back to shuffle you back in place and to his side, pulling you against him in an uncomfortable grip. "Hey Six, this is mine." He addresses the massive male prowler approaching you, almost presenting you to him.

You hold your breath as Six sniffs your face, neck, and chest, trying to figure out what you are and why you're here. The other prowlers begin to enter the room, not even paying attention to the food in preference of figuring out the newcomer. Six's tail begins to rise up, flicking the tip back and forth as he finds you acceptable as a guest. You receive a lick right on the face as a final assurance, and the other prowlers swarm you to meet you.

You grab onto Revenant like your life depends on it. All of these prowlers could kill you, probably even the young ones too. It doesn't matter if they're all flicking their tails happily, or panting with smiles and tongues out, or excitedly greeting you. They can kill you and you're painfully aware of it.

"Calm down, seriously. You were fine meeting me for the first time, but a bunch of little puppies scare you?" Revenant releases his hold on you, but you don't return the favor.

"These are not puppies!" You try to whisper at him, but he might not be able to hear you over the crowd you've attracted. He pushes down on your shoulders, causing you to lose your grip on him and fall into a sitting position. Now all the prowlers can meet you eye-to-eye or tower over you. You're inundated with licks, and no amount of guarding your face with your arms will save you.

"You'll be fine. They're my pack, and they'll respect what's mine." You can barely hear him over the assault of affection.

As the excitement begins to settle, some of the larger prowlers peter off to check out the meat, leaving the younger ones to look after you. A tiny pair of kits you didn't see before bound up to your lap and hop in, cuddling against your stomach. For such scary adults, the babies are unbearably cute. You're not sure if you can touch them or not, so you simply let them roll around in your lap, slapping at each other like the siblings they are. Six comes back to you, his maw covered in blood from the beef.

"I figured he'd notice." You hear Revenant mutter as Six inspects your arm and calf, licking at the puncture wounds a little. "I guess my hypocrisy was going to catch up eventually." Six carefully sniffs the skin before shooting a glare and deep growl at Revenant. "Don't move a muscle, no matter what." He instructs you.

Six lunges at Revenant's leg, catching the metal below the knee joint in his bite. Revenant buckles and hits the ground. You jump a little and whine to yourself, but you stay as reserved as you can otherwise. The kits notice and begin pawing at you, trying to understand your reaction. Six drags Revenant a few feet from you as Revenant makes stifled sounds reminiscent of excruciating pain. You want to step in, but you obey orders. You hear the moaning of the metal in his leg beginning to bend for a few moments, before Six releases him. Revenant sits up, grappling his leg before Six chomps the opposite arm near the shoulder, causing Revenant to try to reel away in shock and pain. Again, Six growls as the metal bends beneath his bite, Revenant taking the pain as best as he can. Six releases, gives a growling bark to Revenant, and returns to you to lick your wounds more.

"Oh, now aren't you just poetic." Revenant finally makes out between what sounds like heavy breaths. "You got me in the same places." He's cradling his calf and arm, in the exact same places and sides as you were hurt. "I knew I was going to pay for that, but you didn't have to be that literary about it."

Six turns to him and makes whining sounds that mimic human speech. You've heard of Siberian Huskies making these noises, but never prowlers. Either way, it sounds sassy, and Revenant seems to relax knowing he's back in good graces.

"Yes, I know I taught you the same lesson a long time ago, but still..." He talks to them like anyone would talk to their dog. "You didn't have to be that extra about it." Six flicks his head at him before returning to your wounds, the kits now back to play-fighting each other.

"So, yeah, these are my puppies." He finally addresses you again. Most of the other prowlers are now taking turns at the carcass, seemingly following a hierarchy. You want to correct him, but you don't. He's clearly going to keep insisting that they're puppies. "This is Six, he's the sixth alpha of a pack I've helped raise over the past few decades. Zero was the first prowler that accepted me, and One was his puppy--the first alpha."

Six retires from your wounds, taking the two kits from you to go eat with their mother.

"There's no way you can be depressed around these guys. If there's any creature more aware of the emotional state of other beings, I dare them to come forward. My pack is perfect." He genuinely sounds overjoyed that you're getting to meet them all, he seems very proud. "I even raised them to respect females... Even if that did bite me back today." He huffs a bit.

"So, wait, you've been raising prowlers out here for decades?" You finally make a sound, Six and a few others look over at you for a moment, surprised by your more relaxed voice.

"Yeah, although they're fairly independent. I'm more like an elder to them, rather than directly in their hierarchy. I bring them food, not that they need me to, and they come along with me when I need company or extra help." He scoots himself close to you, letting his damaged leg drag. You get a closer look and see that the metal is both punctured and buckled on both his arm and leg. "They've been a passion project of mine ever since I first met Zero. They make me feel a bit of humanity." That last sentence is spoken with a level of reverence. You let the silence fall for a moment.

"You know, this is probably a scientific breakthrough in some field that nobody has ever managed before. You have a wild pack of prowlers that accept you and the people you bring in." He seems surprised by your lavish praise. "This could change our understanding of prowlers forever."

"Well, it helps that I'm nigh unkillable," he knocks on his metal chest, making a banging sound, "and honestly you're allowed in because as far as they're concerned, you're my mate." He wraps his arm around you possessively as the kits crawl back into your lap, now well-fed and cuddly. "That's why they don't mind you around the little ones." He sees you eyeing them as they roll around, trying to get comfortable. He picks one up, holding it in his hands like it's a precious jewel. It yips at him for attention, so he scratches behind it's tiny furls with his spare hand. "I think this one will be Seven, unless the next litter has an even bigger boy."

His adoration for these predators is absolutely identical to how so many people feel about their pets. The choice to love prowlers is a bit unconventional, but he is very much a man stuck in a metal body--humanity intact--in these moments. You are growing increasingly fond of him, seeing something beautiful beyond the cruel simulacrum assassin you once knew. He catches you staring.

"Go ahead, pick her up." He gestures to the other kit in your lap, actually looking a little jealous of her brother. At first, you tremor at the thought of picking her up wrong, but a sudden wave of confidence comes from nowhere. You scoop her up in your arms, bringing her up to your chest and cradling her. She immediately begins to squirm with delight and lick at your hand as you rub her head and chin.

"Was that all instinct?" He pauses, and you tilt your head at him, confused by the question. "You were shaking, then suddenly you weren't. Is that what maternal instinct looks like?" You're a bit shocked he saw that much.

"I'm not sure. I'm not usually around babies of any kind." You confess, but now you suspect the same thing he does. The baby female prowler reaches for your face, barely managing to touch your chin before you lower your face to meet her. She reacts with tiny licks on your nose while you tickle her belly. Revenant is the one staring now.

Revenant places the baby male in your arms next to the female, allowing them to both vie for your coveted attention. Some of the females come over and snuggle up next to you, laying on and around you, while the males and Six lie next to Revenant. Revenant leans back, eventually resting his head on the flank of one of the larger males, while another rests its head on his shoulder.

"You should lie down, let the puppies run around." He instructs you, briefly pointing to the kits in your arms. "Your body isn't heavy enough to bother anyone, just lay on whoever seems the most comfortable."

You look around, seeing a lot of intimidating warm bodies around you, so you cheat and carefully lay under Revenant's arm. You hear him audibly sigh, bothered that you're still worried but unable to chide you. The kits use you to crawl up on Revenant and slide down his metal torso to the other side, Six audibly purring when they land in his vicinity. Maybe a prowler would make a better pillow than a newly busted up metal arm and the concrete floor. You shiver a bit at the sheer power of these creatures, running your fingers over the metal holes in Revenant's arm, causing him to wince away from your touch.

"Does it hurt?" You whisper, hoping not to draw any prowler's attention.

"Yeah, it hurts a lot. My body can feel pain just like you skinsuits." He inhales in distress as you pull your fingers away from the damage. "It honestly feels like the flesh and muscle is torn off, like the bone is crushed and splintered, and like I'm bleeding out on the ground. But I know it's not real. It's never real."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know this would happen." You pull yourself into more of a ball, shuddering at the thought of that level of pain.

"It's not your fault, I instilled this level of protectiveness into them." Revenant pulls his arm away as one of the female prowlers crawls over you and lays on top of you, purring as if to comfort you. "Anyone who hurts one of the girls gets it back sevenfold." You roll onto your back, the prowler readjusting to lay on your belly, purring and licking your neck. "So you can stop being sad about it. They can sense it in you. If you don't want the attention, you can't let yourself be distressed." He sits up, looking down at you smugly while a second prowler writhes across the ground to get close enough to lick your cheek. Are these creatures really this intuitive?

Six notices Revenant sitting up to watch you and meanders over to see the small commotion. Six shoves himself between you and Revenant, apparently sensing some kind of disagreement. Six positions his paws on your neck, allowing you to feel the enormous size of his claws. One flex and you're dead. These things must be three inches of blade, all with a hypodermic tip. Six turns his head to Revenant and makes a sound somewhere between a huff and a growl before shoving his snout against your ear to purr. He bares his fangs while doing so, allowing you to feel how long and menacing they are. You wince away from him, pushing your face into the other prowler's licks, but Six just shoves his snout further to reconnect with you.

"He seems to think I should be more comforting, you're way too nervous for his liking. Good luck being depressed now." He sounds like he's enjoying this, shrugging to himself before he places his hand on your free arm. "Just calm down, they're not going to hurt you."

"I could die from a single flick of the wrist." You carefully say, feeling your vocal chords vibrate against Six's massive nails.

"That doesn't stop you from getting close to me." His hand glides up and down your arm. You don't have a response for him, so you stay quiet. "Like I said, just scream at any discomfort and someone is getting a swift dose of justice." He lies back on the same prowler as before, changing his position to avoid disrupting Six.

"I can't scream if my throat is slit."

"Give it time, you'll understand."

• • • •

Three prowlers is apparently the amount it takes to bring back a stick. It can be more if the stick is longer, but this giant branch is the maximum size you can throw. They hop together, all their jaws in a line across the branch, their fangs clutched around the wood. They carefully drop it at your feet, waiting expectantly for you to try throwing it again. You do your best to throw it, but between your injured arm and the weight of it, you struggle to get it as far as you'd like. The area behind the warehouse is a small yard with enough room for fetch, surrounded by thick forests over a few small hills.

"You throw like a child." You hear Revenant mock you, and you turn around to shoot him a glare. Six is resting in his lap and he has the mother prowler at his side, accepting the belly rubs he offers while the kits sleep. "I can throw farther than you from here, without even standing." You roll your eyes, knowing he's probably right.

Two new prowlers got in on the stick this throw, bounding back to you for another throw. You have eight prowlers all fighting to be one of the three on the stick, but they all seem to be having fun. Four of the young adults are off in the woods playing tug of war by themselves, making a total of sixteen prowlers you've now met. This pack is unusually huge from what little you know. You wonder if Revenant's meddling has something to do with it.

You pick up the branch and drag it over to Revenant, curious to see if he'll back up his claim.

"Alright, go for it." You hand him the end of the branch, and he chucks it far enough to lob over the entire yard and land somewhere in the woods. He snickers as the pack disappears in the darkness after it. You watch, hearing the branch collide with the trees, making rustling and snapping sounds as it catches in them. "So, what if you just got it stuck in a tree?"

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to show off for you." Revenant coos sarcastically. "Give them a few minutes, they can climb." You sigh and shrug, waiting for any sign of them coming back. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, not yet."

"Oh, oh!? You aren't scared of my puppies anymore?" He says between chuckles.

"Shut it." You growl at him, finally getting to use his catch-phrase against him.

"Are you sure? It's getting late." It was beginning to be late in the afternoon, coming up on when you'd normally be wanting dinner. In truth you hadn't eaten in over a day, but depression made it so you never wanted to eat anyway. You'd been playing with his prowlers for hours now, fully accepted by them. You now felt pretty confident in your safety around them, but their stature was still a bit menacing.

"At least let me see if they can bring back that stick." You hear some rustling in the woods, before the eight prowlers burst out of the brush with the original branch and a second, equally massive one. Now only two are left out of being able to hold a part of a stick. They drop both at your feet.

You try to throw the first but it only makes it a short ways, all the prowlers fighting for it. You hand the second to Revenant, and he throws it back into the woods completely out of sight. They all abandon the first stick in preference for the farthest one.

"Maybe you should be doing this." You hunch over, a bit defeated and tired.

"You're doing fine. Anyways, we should wrap up soon. You probably need that shower and I have something I need to do before tomorrow." Revenant starts to get up, prompting Six to get off of him while huffing and shaking himself awake. "Also, you need food."

You sigh, wanting to argue but knowing you can't.

"I'm calling back your ride. We need to get all these guys hidden in the warehouse as to not cause any alarm." He pulls some kind of cellular device out of his pocket on his belt and presses a few buttons. He then proceeds to shuffle you back towards the warehouse, prompting Six, the mother, and the two kits to follow. As you get to the side entrance, Revenant turns around and emits another whistling sound, inundated with his usual modulated twinge. He steps inside with you and the other twelve prowlers come flooding in behind him.

He pets each of them as they make their way in, saving Six and the kits for last. He really does love these creatures. You sheepishly and carefully pet Six as you go to leave, but only because he demands it by butting his head into your hand to make it clear.

Finally, you step outside with Revenant, going towards the dirt road that got you here.

"You look like absolute hell." Revenant jabs. You pull your hair back and try to control it a bit better, but it refuses to cooperate. It's probably stuck from all the prowler saliva all over you, hair absolutely included. Not to even mention your shirt and pants look like you got tackled and ground into the dirt by an entire rugby team. Your shirt was already stained, now it's dusty, dirty, stained, and has green grass streaks. Your shoes are probably just as bad, but they're cheap sneakers so you don't really care much.

"I know, I really need a shower. Maybe two." You give up on your hair. It's just going to be a mess.

"Take as long as you need. I'll be back soon after you. I hope you don't mind riding back alone." You've made it to the dirt road, and you can see the excessively luxurious limo in the distance, kicking up dirt.

"You're not coming?"

"No, I have one last thing to do before the match tomorrow. It'll be worth it, and I think you'll like it too." Revenant seems like he won't budge on the matter.

The limo pulls up and he opens the door for you, and you crawl in alone, making sure you stay as far in the corner as possible. You don't really like the thought of being in here alone, but you have no choice in the matter. He shuts the door and you lose sight of him through the blacked-out windows. The limo starts to move, making a sharp turn and hitting high speeds over the terrain, probably kicking up tons of dust in the meantime. You have nothing to stare at, so you just curl up to yourself and wait to make it back.

"You seem a bit meek for this kind of work, kid." You hear a masculine voice with a skeezy city accent coming from the front of the limo. The privacy window is cracked, just enough so you can hear him, but thankfully not enough so you can see each other. Why was that rolled down at all? It wasn't on the way here. You turn away, refusing to answer, hoping he will leave you be.

"Heh, exactly." You hear him chuckle. You wish you had the guts to just waltz over and roll up the window on him, but you're neither that confident nor strong enough if it ends in a spat. You just let him continue. "Heck, I didn't think robots were even into that stuff, but he seems to be the 'specially fucked-up type." Your stomach sinks like an anchor as you hear what sounds like the draw of a cigarette. "Fucker practically gets off every time he guts someone on live TV. Makes perfect sense he'd get off 'tuh victimizin' some tiny doll like you."

You get the picture, and you feel sick to your stomach for it. You can't respond, every word you want to say gets caught in your throat and you're forced to swallow it. This guy might be unhinged; a lot of people are these days. If you try to argue, he might try something. If you try to play it off... who are you kidding? You could never play this one off. It sounds so bad. Is he going to try to hurt you? Or is this all some mind game?

"Does it hurt? You sure as hell look like you've been through a meat grinder." You feel your face turn red. You turn further away from the cracked window. "Oh, I bet it does. No way 'woulda giant metal psycho like that hold back on a little thing like you."

He won't stop. He's clearly only getting started, but you hope that this is the worst of it.

"Question is: are you a hostage or does he really pay you that well? You know, sweetheart, if you're in need of money, just record whatever the hell he does to 'ya and sell it on the internet." He starts laughing as you internally beg for him to shut up. "All sorts of fucked up dudes would pay for the privilege. You could make absolute bank! Even better if you let him cut you open a bit for the cameras while you scream." He's really laughing now, clearly getting off to how much he has you cornered.

"Everyone loves a good screamin' bitch. Anyone who says they don't is a liar. But you know that, don't 'ya toots?" His use of centuries-old misogynistic slang somehow makes everything worse. You feel yourself shake a bit as you hold yourself tighter. Your stomach hurts badly from the distress now, and you feel yourself spiral internally. Where is this going? Can you outrun this guy if you need to? What if he catches you? Can you squirm out of this guy's grasp? "God, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall while that's going on. I bet your tears only make him harder."

You want to scream, but your prey instincts refuse to let you move or make a sound in hopes that he simply forgets you're there. You can't help yourself but hold your breath in intervals, hoping to be even more silent, but in turn making you more light-headed and fearful.

"I bet there's lots of filthy bastards that would pay extra to have his sloppy seconds." You're absolutely nauseated at the thought of that, but you haven't eaten, so maybe it's just a stomach ulcer forming from the extreme stress. "I bet he's modded to absolutely ruin you, isn't he? Tear your insides up and fill you until you're overflowin', right? You look like he never gives you a day off." You pray, begging God to kill you--this is worse than death.

"So, if he's draggin' 'ya all the way out into the woods to fuck 'ya, it must be pretty messed up stuff, huh?" You lay your face in your hands. "Aww, don't cry babe, I'm not going to tell anyone. I wouldn't want a hole in my chest, anyhow." You want to disappear. You hope he crashes the car and you die in a fire. You hate everything about this. "If you're ever in need of an extra kick of cash though, I wouldn't mind a taste of 'ya. Or buyin' one of those tapes."

You break internally. It feels like the essence of every muscle snaps in your body, and the tears flow without even intending to. You suddenly have the courage to move, but only to move a few inches to cower deeper in the corner of the seats.

It's not worth it. None of this is worth it. You no longer hear anything he says, even though you can still hear his voice. It sounds like you're underwater, so you can't make out the words anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. Unfortunately, you can still make out your own thoughts, and they're all cruel. It's all cruel. Everything about this situation is cruel.

You focus on the tears hitting your hands. They're cold, and they quickly flow out of your palms and down your arms before dripping off your elbows. They leave a trail of salts down your arm so thin you can barely notice it. You don't even feel compelled to make a sound as you cry; it's not that type of sorrow. It's pure humiliation, and your lungs work calmly as your eyes drown instead.

You wish you could just be swallowed by the swell of your own pain. Death is something you think about often as a potential solution to every problem, but right now it feels like a drug you're in active withdrawal from. Like you need it, right here, right now. You want to imagine the limo crashing into an embankment wall, submerging into an ocean, or being hit by a train. You don't care if the creep dies or not, all you know is you want out. The world feels cold enough to sap every degree of heat from you, and you feel as if you're freezing both literally and figuratively.

You fester in the feelings. The only saving grace in this situation is that you're too unimportant to matter to anyone as anything other than an easy squeeze. Nobody will miss you if you die. No one will look for you if you disappear. No family will mourn you. You secretly hope this pervert doesn't know that too, otherwise you might not make it out of this unscathed. You hope he believes Revenant will run him through if he tries to abduct you. You'd rather not die like that, something faster and more violent would be preferred.

Would Revenant kill you? In any circumstance at all? He could make it quick and violent, but he might not want to at this point. He seems to like you more by the day, but now that scares you. Is he human enough to feel strongly about you? Or does he tend to fall back on his programming? Maybe he would like gutting you--then at least someone could enjoy your death. You think about it, but you cannot imagine it without there being some kind of regret thrown in on your or his end. You can only imagine goading him into it by aggressively attacking his emotional stability, which is something you'd regret. Otherwise, you cannot imagine him killing you for no reason and being regret-free afterwards. You don't want him to feel regret. You just want to be free without hurting anyone, but maybe that's unrealistic.

The vehicle comes to a gentle stop. Your brain kicks into survival mode and you immediately rush for the door, not giving the driver any chance to get out of his seat, let alone open the door for you. He is still talking but you don't care; he's only laughing at you anyway. You get the door open and thankfully you're not at some back alley motel, but the main Apex Games facility. It's the back entrance, but you'll take it. It might be a blessing anyway, since it's so close to Revenant's new room that you'll likely avoid all human contact. You get up to the door and fumble in your pocket for your ID card, finally getting it out. You hear the driver say some more heinous things, but you refuse to turn around to see his face. The card is accepted and you rush in.

• • • •

The water is as hot as you can tolerate. It burns your skin and is downright uncomfortable to wash yourself in. Even as you curl up on the shower floor, crying and tolerating the hottest water you can handle, nothing can truly wash off the overwhelming feeling of being violated. Nothing can wash off the depression, the feelings of insignificance, the intrusive suicidal ideations, or the fear of meaning nothing in the grand scheme of things while simultaneously meaning just enough to force you into living.

The floor of the shower is warm, but it's still uncomfortable to lay on. The water spray hitting your skin is the only comfort you feel, but it isn't enough to quell you. The soap slowly rinses off your body, and the lathered up shampoo slowly flows out of your hair and down the drain. You'll eventually rinse completely like this, but it will be a while longer. How long has it already been? You took a long time sitting on the shower floor to even find the energy to get the soap lathered on you, and even that process was slow. Now you've been back on the floor and letting the soap slowly come off as you sob. Revenant might be back by now, but you're not sure what his errand was exactly. Maybe it will take all night. Does it matter? Do you matter? The thoughts won't stop.

You just cry. You cry until it feels like your soul starts to leave your body. Maybe it does. Between the heat, the steam, and the exhaustion, you pass out.

• • • •

"Skinsuit!" You feel yourself being gently jostled, still on the shower floor. The water is off, but the steam is so thick you question how long it's been. Your skin is beginning to get wrinkled from all the water absorption, so it's been a while. You're facing away from him, and you don't have the energy to turn to him. You don't even have the energy to speak. You just play the corpse, hoping that faking it will cause you to make it.

Revenant withdraws, and you hear rapid shuffling behind you. It sounds like he grabs the towel you had hung for yourself, running in and out of the bathroom to grab other things. You care about how he feels--he sounds distressed--but not for yourself. Why does he care at all, though? How does he feel about all this, anyway?

"Come here, little skinsuit. Everything is fine." You feel his arms scoop under you, and your natural instinct is to resist the hard synthetics against your bare skin. You wince a little, but mostly keep your corpse-like state: eyes closed and body limp. He carries you out of the bathroom where the air is freezing, but also not inundated with enough water vapor to nearly asphyxiate you. Weirdly enough, his chest isn't cold, but actually has something like fur? You don't open your eyes, you're probably just imagining it.

He places you down on a towel on the bed, immediately throwing another equally large towel over you. You're still cold, but it's way more tolerable with something over you. You hear Revenant mumbling in some kind of panic to himself, but you still can't find the energy to console him. You hear some typing on his computer, then the chair gets shoved out from under him as he stands in a huff. You hear your duffle bag unzip and likely some of your clothes be tossed on the bed near your head.

"You better not be mad at me for this..." He sounds unsure of that himself before you feel his hands start to dry you off through the towel. It would be nice if it didn't feel so wrong. Even if it is through a towel, you're naked otherwise. The thought of what the driver said hits you, and you immediately begin to feel anxiety and shake against your will. He reacts by scooping you up and hugging you, still wrapped in a towel, trying to stop the shaking.

"Dammit, what's going on?" You hear him whisper, he doesn't seem to realize you're awake and aware.

More fur. Why is there fur? Also, why does it feel like there's something resting on your head? It's way too large to be his chin. His chest feels smaller too, and it feels like some type of plastic rather than metal. The more you feel the more questions you have, and the more you panic at the realization that you do not know this simulacrum. You reach your limit and perk up in his arms, opening your eyes, and silently gasping as you reel back from whoever the heck this is.

"Wait! Skinsuit! It's me!" He manages to hold your arms before you can fully pull away, and you meet eyesight with a chassis you do not recognize. He has a huge, artificial bovine skull with curling ram horns situated on top. Instead of his scarf, his new face is framed in a mane of deep bark-colored fur, matted into locks like a proper wild animal. The optics tucked inside his skull seem so much larger than his normal ones, and they're a brilliant blueish-white, unlike his normal yellow ones. His snout is long enough to have been what was sitting on your head. His body looks to be made much thinner, especially in the chest, and is clearly made with more plastics than metals. It looks significantly lighter. His arms are red with odd, jagged juts on them, but seem to have similar hand mechanics otherwise. His loincloth is replaced with another long patch of fur, as well as fur on his thigh plates. His legs look a lot more decorative, and his feet are scarier: detailed down to each individual talon. His feet actually look much more like the hands on his other chassis.

"Skinsuit?" You snap out of your trance at his voice. You must have been staring him up and down for a while. "Uh, here." He pulls the towels back over you, which had fallen off when you pulled away. He reaches out to touch you, but stops short in case you aren't all there yet. "It's me, I'm just in a special body for tomorrow. I didn't mean to scare you." He's speaking slowly and methodically; his fingers make contact with your hand, but don't go further. "You must have fainted in the shower. You haven't been eating enough, but don't worry, everything's okay now."

Your head starts to throb and you instinctively go to hold it, the stress of the situation is too much. Even though he's trying to be reassuring, he looks like some kind of robotic, big-horned, undead goat demon and honestly you just wanted to see a familiar face to go with the familiar voice. You're not scared now that you know it's him, but something still doesn't feel right about it. Since you don't know this new chassis, you find it hard to trust his comfort. It's weird. Any other time you'd be overjoyed to see him in something that looks so cool, but now you're looking for some semblance of normalcy.

"How do you feel?" His right hand moves again to rest on your knee, intentionally avoiding pushing any boundaries. You can't answer, you still can't speak. It gets caught in your throat despite your best intentions, and instead your words turn into a new burst of tears and sobs. Without thinking, you take his hand off your knee and pull it to your face, sobbing into it. He seems relieved at your acceptance, and tries his best to catch and wipe away the tears as they flow. He shuffles as if to hug you, but he stops, likely unsure of how you feel when you're essentially in nothing but two loosely wrapped towels.

"I'm sorry, I thought seeing my pack would help, but I should have realized you haven't been eating enough. It's not something I've had to pay attention to in centuries." Your heart hurts as he seems to take the blame himself. "I also didn't mean to scare you again... I promise I'm not planning on hurting you." You want to speak so badly, but you just cry harder instead. None of this is his fault. Literally none of it. The only reason you're so jumpy is because everything that pervert said has sent you into a spiral. You imagined Revenant hurting you for his own entertainment and pleasure, and this imaginary smoking gun has left you very gun-shy.

"I ordered food for you to be delivered to the room. I expect you to eat something, even if it's not much. I don't want you dying on me." You push his hand into your face, trying to dry the tears. "I ordered a lot. I'm not sure what you like." You nod to affirm you hear him and plan to try, even though you're too nauseous to be hungry at the moment.

He uses his free hand to grab the clothing he pulled from your bag and puts it in front of you. He probably wasn't thinking too hard when he picked things out, but an oversized tee and men's basketball shorts are as comfy as it gets, so he did fine in your book. He left out undergarments, but honestly you couldn't care less at this point. Whatever covers you is fine. You pull his hand away from your face and place it on the bed gently. You grab the shirt, and he immediately turns away to let you put it on. You're able to throw it on along with the shorts in a few seconds, and quickly retrieve his hand when done. He turns back, maintaining the boundaries he interpreted.

"Any better?" He wipes away a few trailing tears now that you've slowed down a lot. You nod, still not sure how your voice is doing.

There's a knock on the door and Revenant pulls away gently to go get it. You hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

"I've got enough Chinese for like, five people. Who is even in this room? Are y'all having a sleepover in the abandoned room? To be fair I'd do the sa--"

Revenant opens the door and Sherry has a long pause to look up at the recipient. She doesn't even notice you, but you see her put the bags on the floor slowly and take a step back, hands up defensively.

"Okay, so it's a demon summoning, my bad..." Her sass is ever present. "And here I made the mistake of thinking I was running into some normal kind of fun."

"Sherry!" Your voice cracks back into action and the perfect moment. She shoots a look past Revenant to see you.

"You're summoning demons now?! Did you dump the tinman and summon an incubus as a bounce back or something?!" She looks up at Revenant, still not sure who it is. "Also, do demons really like Chinese food this much?"

"Sherry, shut up! I need a hug!" The tears are coming back, and Sherry valiantly slips under Revenant's arm to run to you. Revenant seems to be in complete shock at her brazenness, but also unwilling to stop her since you invited her in. He picks up the bag of food instead and brings it in, setting it on the television stand. Sherry leaps into a hug and you accept it graciously. Sherry is the closest thing you have to a sister and you could use someone like her right now. Revenant sits in the computer chair, watching you embrace closely, but not speaking or interfering.

"Where's the Revenant guy? What happened? Did he dump you? Did you run away? Who is this guy?" She immediately starts getting to brass tacks mid-hug. Although with her the hug won't end until you stop crying anyway.

"That is Rev, Sherry. It's just a different body." You manage to get out. She shoots Revenant a discerning look before slowly recognizing the similarities.

"Oh, hey, you're right. My bad, mister murder robot... haha..." She trails off nervously, Revenant only responding with a grunt and a huff. Suddenly, she snaps back into a fiery disposition. "Wait! Did you do something to her, you doofy-lookin' Beelzebub knockoff?! You may be able to gut me, but I'll defend her honor to my grave!" Now you're hugging Sherry to hold her back from trying to start something.

"It was a complete accident. I wasn't keeping track of how much she's been eating and I didn't catch her starving herself; plus I didn't expect this body to scare her as much as it did." Revenant doesn't lose an aggressive posture, but his words are fairly soft and empathetic.

"It's not that! I promise, it's not any of that!" You hug Sherry hard enough that she winces, but sensing your desperation she holds you tighter and pulls your head into her chest with no regard for what that may look like. You're glad you don't have those kinds of feelings for Sherry, otherwise this might be a bit strange. You see Revenant cock his head to the side and his eyes sharpen at the sight.

"It was the ride back, alone. That stupid driver was--" you choke, you hate saying these words out loud, "--a perverted bastard. An absolute dog." It comes out and devolves into a half-sob, thankfully still understandable. You start to cry again, reliving the things he said, not sure how you'd ever be able to say them yourself, even just to explain what happened.

"What happened? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?!" Sherry barely contains her concerns, if at all, squeezing you as you cry.

Revenant stands very slowly and methodically out of the chair, and begins to make some kind of animalistic growl you've never heard him make in your life. He paces back and forth, slowly stifling his growl as he goes. Sherry seems a bit concerned by him, but she continues to try to comfort you, awaiting an answer.

It takes almost a full minute to catch your breath again and be able to speak again, but you do.

"He didn't touch me. He just said things that--" Back to sobbing. You thought too far ahead and started to repeat his words again to yourself.

Despite your crying, Sherry sighs in relief, significantly less tense than before. She starts to rock you in her hug and you go along with it. Revenant's intensity only seems to worsen. He paces faster for a few moments as you cry, before he calms himself down enough to approach the situation.

He sits on the edge of the bed next to you and Sherry, currently latched on to each other. He doesn't attempt to pull you apart, he simply waits patiently. He's completely calm and collected now, with no signs of previous rage apparent, but you're sure it's still there.

"What kind of things did he say?" Sherry asks kindly, no sense of urgency in her voice. She plays with your hair a bit, which might as well be one of the greatest feelings in the world. It might be just distracting enough for you to get it out.

"He said he wanted to buy tapes..." You inhale heavily trying to hold back the inevitable runny nose. "...of Revenant cutting into me and... using me." Sherry gasps through her nose in disgust, but squeezes you tighter in response.

"I'm sorry, that's terri--"

"He said I should sell myself afterwards, that people would like me better if I still had... stuff... inside me." You cut her off but you're not done. Sherry is starting to get tense, but more notably, so is a particular simulacrum only a few feet away. "He said he wanted to watch it all! And try me for himself, too." That's all you needed to say, you're back to sobbing and Sherry starts to cry with you, unable to help her empathy. You're latched on to each other trying to comfort one another, but instead both of you are just a sobbing mess.

Revenant sits, lifeless for a moment, before standing up and limping towards the door.

"Revenant!" You call out to him through tears, and he stops and turns towards you, revealing his eyes are voids. He's in reboot. "Don't kill anyone." You try to sound confident, but you're not sure how it comes out. He turns away again, and limps out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He didn't acknowledge what you said, but you hope he heard you.

Sherry perks up, wiping away her own tears and pulling away for a moment.

"Do you think he'll listen?" Sherry seems stressed.

"I hope so."

• • • •

"So, he's actually an average person, stuck in a body that drives him to be a bloodthirsty assassin via software?" Sherry asks, taking another bite of the sweet and sour chicken.

"As far as I can tell, yeah... Wait, did you not know what a simulacrum was before now?"

"I meant to look it up but I never did. I figured it was like a brand-name or something." She giggles at herself, but you sense there's a chance she may be joking. "So, you actually do really like this spindly metal guy, after all? And he's so much older! You have mature tastes." She goes straight to teasing, now that you're feeling a bit better.

"I didn't say anything about that, ma'am." You stare at the General Tso's chicken in front of you, not sure if you can eat a third piece. You still feel wrong somehow.

"You don't have to. I think he likes you too. I mean, he isn't wearing your innards as a scarf. For him, that's something." She prods.

"He's not as bad as you think, you know." You don't know how to convince her without potentially telling her something Revenant wouldn't want you to.

"Sure, he just kills people on live TV for the paycheck." She shrugs. "Oh! And maybe killing some pervert who sexually harassed you right now."

"I didn't tell him to do that!" You snap, you legitimately don't want to have even a drop of that blood on your hands. Sure, this guy was an absolute creep, but he didn't lay hands on you. That's your limit, and he didn't cross it. He isn't as bad as Forge. That guy did cross the line. He crossed a lot of lines.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset." Sherry sounds genuine. You sigh.

"It's okay, I really hope he's just running off some steam. I hope he knows most of my distress was just depression winning." You poke the chicken.

"That's not true, I would have been so scared too. I mean, you were in real danger. It's a miracle you held it together at all, I'm not sure I could have. I still can't believe--"

The door swings open and Revenant walks in, stopping all conversation in its tracks. He's hunched forward, looking somewhat disappointed.

"I hope you're happy. He'll live." He looks you dead in the eyes, waiting for your reaction.

You smile openly, glad he heeded your request.

"Everyone in his contacts now has a copy of the encrypted files on his computer, all decrypted for their viewing pleasure." He breaks eye contact with you. "At least one of them is sure to call the feds when they see their inbox tomorrow."

"Oh geeze, he was that kind of creep?" Sherry exclaims out loud, still eating chicken.

"Oh yeah, he's been collecting a lot of really rare porn. Honestly, I wish you'd have just let me kill him so I didn't have to expose myself to that." You feel a little guilty that he had to dig through it, it explains why he looks so dejected.

"I'm sorry..." You can't help yourself, you feel bad when he seems upset about anything.

"How much have you eaten?" He seems to have noticed how full your box of chicken still is.

"Two pieces of chicken, and maybe one piece of broccoli." Sherry rats you out with a cruel grin on her face.

"Snitch!" You shoot back at her. She closes her box with a mischievous smirk, hops up, and starts to leave.

"Nice to meet 'ya, you synthetic Wendigo! Have fun and be safe, you two!" She slips past Revenant quickly and is out of the door, skipping down the hallway as the door slowly shuts behind her. Revenant watches her leave with some mix of confusion and concern. You turn to reassure him.

"She's fine. She won't say anything. She--"

"Clearly is some kind of competition for me. I mean, she held you like you two were bonded for life." He's immediately free to tease you with her gone. Thank goodness Revenant seems too shy to gang up on you with her; that would be untenable. He throws himself down next to you where Sherry once was. "I want that same kind of bond." He barely touches your chin with his claws, being sure to growl the last bit out loud.

You emit a whining noise, paralyzed by the thought. You're a bit more sensitive to it all at the moment, considering the events of the day. Revenant notices your struggle and pulls back, reverting to his demanding style.

"Eat your food. I didn't intend for your girlfriend to run off with a free meal and you not eat anything." It still feels weird coming from his new body, but you're getting used to it.

"She's just a good friend, that's all. And I was just too busy talking to eat, I still don't feel great though." You poke at the food, it's lukewarm by now but that isn't your main objection to it. You just don't feel like eating.

"Oh, so we aren't close enough yet for that kind of affection? I'll fix that soon enough." His voice hums. You sigh.

"Oh please," You pet his snout and he seems to enjoy it, getting him off your case for a bit, "Not right now, harass me later. If you want me to eat anything, you can't be doing this." He really seems to enjoy the snout rubs.

"Alright, fine, you eat, I'll talk." You pull your hand away and focus more on the food. "I have quite a number of these special chassis to myself, all kinds of designs and colors and other nonsense. These are my special occasion outfits, per sé." You nod, it makes sense. "This one, as well as many others, are modded to the brim with all sorts of fun additions." He touches his snout, noting where you pet it. "I can feel every single aspect of this suit, even those that don't conform to the human shape. Even better, it's neural processors are exponentially faster, meaning everything feels much more vivid and vibrant." He pulls his fingers to the nasal cavity. "I have an entire set of cores that do nothing but olfactory processing, so I get to be the better Bloodhound while I wear it." His fingers fall to his jaw. "This luxurious suit even gets a jaw with clamping power, canine teeth to snag whatever I want, and a synthetic tongue to taste the blood I spill." He starts to snarl his words as he pulls open his jaw to show you his mouth. He points to his horns next. "These things? Silicone carbide sections with rubber impulse reducers between." You stare at him with a look of minor confusion, so he clarifies. "I can headbutt a skull into fragments without even leaving a dent in my own." You wince at the thought. "Not to even mention the use of polyethylenes instead of metals in the body with support weights in the limbs makes it so I can move faster than ever but still hit just as hard. Not to even mention all the modifications below the neck. You'll see how much I destroy in tomorrow's match. I will win, I promise you that."

"Wanna bet?" You're happy with how confident he is, but you can't help but want to start something.

"And what do I have that you could possibly want?" Revenant asks the opposite of what you expect him to. Isn't the question usually posed the opposite way? You close up your leftovers and start going over to the kitchenette to put it in the fridge.

"Well, I wouldn't mind money or just hanging out with the prowlers again. I could put money on it too, just not enough to make it worth your while. Did you have something in mind?" The fridge is nearly empty, spare for that water bottle and liquor. You throw the box down on a shelf, close the door, and plop down on the couch in a lying position.

"So, if I don't win, I have to take you to see my puppies again, or give you money. Neither of those are objectionable to me, but when I win I get to take something instead?"

"Yeah, that's how I'm framing it. The extra motivation can't hurt. I just don't know what you'd want. I have some savings, but--"

"Forget the money, I don't exactly have much need for it and I have tons anyway. What I want..." He pauses for a moment as his voice turns sinister. "...is to hear you call me 'daddy' again while I take a piece of you." He seethes with a sadistically erotic tone.

You stare into space, your face must be red again.

"C'mon skinsuit, it's not every day I'm in one of my few suits with the proper equipment for it." He's loving the look on your face, undoubtedly. He's acting like this is a cruel joke, but... How far would he take this joke, though? Better yet, how far will you force him to take it? You still feel ill at ease about the idea, but you're suddenly angry enough to buck off the shame.

"Alright, fuck you but sure." Probably the ballsiest thing you've ever said in your life.

Revenant is caught off guard for a moment, his eyes dimming until they're nearly off, freezing in a somewhat shocked motion. After a few moments, you hear him slowly return as he laughs out loud. He has trouble containing himself, and goes to rub his mask again.

"You're insane, but I love that." He finally contains his laughter. "Your friend, what's her name?"

"Sherry." Weird change in subject but okay.

"Who's her favorite?"

"Wattson."

"Oh, perfect. I'll send a special request for her to keep you company during the match. I want you both to watch. I got my assigned team not long ago." He stands up from the edge of the bed and meanders over to the couch you're on, looming over you.

"Oh, are you with Wattson?"

"And Wraith. It's perfect for what I have planned." He never did explain what his plan was that day he dragged you all over the arena. "Loba's little triumph will pale in comparison to my massacre."

"Try not to make it too--"

"It will be bloody, gory, and brutal. Sorry little skinsuit, but you used up your pardon." He chides you from above before reaching down to help you up. "Now come, I need to warm something."

You stand up, a bit confused by his request, until he pulls you into a hug and you feel how strangely warm his body is. You're a bit taken aback at first, but you slowly ease into him and the warmth he offers.

"Luxurious, isn't it?" You feel his chest rattle into a purring sound as he cradles your head against his warm chest. "I like it too." He gently pulls you away from the couch before leading you to the bed.

You don't protest, you just crawl into bed and shuffle to the middle, making plenty of room for him to follow. You see the lights flick off, then feel his warmth press up against your back, cradling you completely. His snout rests on your shoulder, breathing into your ear. It's comforting, something you really needed after today.

"Thanks, Rev." You barely manage to whisper. He huffs in your ear as affirmation before you fall asleep.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mind the Gap: Two

Shang- Chi woke up alone in your narrow bed and lay there for a long moment looking at the ceiling. There are plastic stars and dozens upon dozens painstakingly handwritten lines of poetry and little quotes. He wondered how you’d gotten them up there. And he wondered if you kept them because they comforted you. Or inspired you.

It was… weird seeing the parts of yourself you’d tried to hide for so long. The instruments, the books, the crystals. The way the room was flooded with colored light as the sun hit the stained glass. He thoughts of your drab little apartment. The orderliness of it. How minimalist it was. This felt better. Somehow all the missing pieces that gave him any doubts at all made more sense.

He looked at the photos. Little, frozen, out of context moments. People he didn’t recognize. Until he got to the end. Kai in Uniform and holding you, smiling while your chubby dimpled hands cover your mouth. You couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6. All puppy fat and big smiles. That made him feel warm. It was nice knowing that you hadn’t just sprung up somewhere fully formed. And that Kai, for all his unbothered attitude really did love you.

Behind him, he heard footsteps and whirled around to face the door. He wasn’t sure if it was you or not. But. He didn’t want to be caught snooping. So when Katy stuck her head around the door, he exhaled slowly. “There’s breakfast downstairs,” she said quietly, “You okay?”

“Better,” he said after a long second. “I just-”

“I know,” she said. “Her Godmother said she almost died and then-”

“And then she woke up,” he finished.

“And heard someone talking in her head, which- what?”

Shang-Chi made a soft noise that even he didn’t know the meaning of. Last night, he still hadn’t pressed on you for answers. You’d been so disoriented and tired that it didn’t seem quite fair to probe something that obviously caused that much pain. Even as he held you, you’d cried in your sleep, your hands fisted around handfuls of his shirt. And now he didn’t wonder why he frequently found you either awake and working or asleep somewhere else. You talked. Alternating between defiance and begging. It hurt. It tore at him like sharp pointed teeth. It still hurt even in the bright light of day. And he wondered if you couldn’t remember or if- if the Archive wouldn’t let you remember.

“Let’s go eat,” Katy prompted, linking her arm through his. “Lea said Y/N may not be back for hours… Something about everything being a little “off” after she loses a day or two of time.”

He nodded and reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged away from the pictures. His stomach making most of the decision for him. He wasn’t sure what food was down there but it smelled amazing. And he realized that he’d not eaten anything since breakfast the previous day.

In the kitchen, he pauses for a second to take in all the details he hadn’t noticed before. Too worried about you being alone in the bedroom in the attic. Bundles of herbs are hanging to dry. Everything is copper and scrubbed oak work surfaces. The windows are open and the smells from the garden and wet earth from the rain the day before mingle pleasantly with all the pastry smells and warm coffee. It’s comfortable in a way that isn’t manufactured for the house guests. It’s a working room. One that operates the same way year round. And Shang-Chi wondered what happened to keep you away.

Even as your Godmother, Grandmother and assorted cousins quickly ply them all with breakfast and hospitality, he can’t help but feel a little… Overwhelmed. Everyone is just so friendly and warm. No one questions them. No one is apprehensive. And as the talk flies around the table, it’s quickly apparent that you come by your humor and broody tendencies honestly. Your grandmother likes to fuss and she likes guests. She especially likes having ALL of her grandkids at home which he’s given to understand is rare.

Outside there’s the sound of horses and incoherent masculine whooping sounds after a while and She smiles, “I wondered if they’d be back before lunch.”

Shang-Chi watched out the window over her shoulder and she chuckled, “I don’t know how neither of them has never broken their necks jumping that back fence… It used to take years off my life watching them do it when they were small.”

“Daredevils, huh?”

She half shrugged, “It was almost impossible to keep either of them in the house… Wild things.” But there was more fondness than heat in her voice even as she shook her head. “Though their father being what he is, it’s no small wonder.”

He’s only half listening now as he watched you dismount from the horse you’d been riding. Your hair is messy and windblown and there’s color in your face and the careless half smile. There’s a warmth that spreads through his chest, even as his heart skips a beat.

You pause in the kitchen, looking surprised to find people there and glance at the clock frowning before checking your watch. Almost like you aren’t sure which one to believe. “Sit, Eat,” Lea scolds, pressing a mug into your hands and gesturing at an empty chair.

“I don’t think I can,” you say hesitantly.

The taller woman cradles your face in her hands for a second and turns your head to the side to inspect the still fading bruises, “Is it better or worse than it was?”

“It depends on how long I’m out for,” you say after a moment. “It still takes at least a day. But sometimes a week or more.”

“And everything else?”

“The only thing that feels right is being outside.”

Shang-Chi watches Lea and Kai trade worried looks while you studiously look at the mug in your hands after Lea lets you go and deposits you in a chair. “Try any way,” she said softly, setting a plate down in front of you gently. There’s not much on it. A little fruit, some fresh bread and some ham. But even from where he’s standing Shang-Chi can see some of the color leave your face.

“I should call the Aunts and tell them we’re going to cancel the party…” your grandmother said after watching you try to pick at the fruit before giving up and trying a bit of bread.

“I’ll be fine,” you sigh, “It’s just some nausea from getting smacked in the head hell knows how many times and the usual disorientation from not being in the same timezone as everyone else.”

“Smacked in the head?” Katy asked over her mug.

“I made my phone call. The last thing I remember is getting pistol whipped before I was yanked out of the driver’s seat… You would think, given that the Archive lives in my head it would do more to prevent head trauma but… Nah. Who needs grey matter?”

“Driver’s seat?” she asked, wincing.

“It the easiest way I’ve ever found to explain it. This is a meat mech and I don’t always get to drive… The Archive has two main objectives. Protecting the vessel that houses it AND protecting the balance of the universe by preserving knowledge… Anything that interferes with those goals is typically dealt with with extreme prejudice.”

“Typically?” This time it was Wenwu who asked and you half turn that direction and shrug, honestly grateful to not have to pretend to eat.

“Archives have never had their own physical body. By their own account and every corroborating account I’ve ever found they’re… spirits for lack of a better word. A manifestation of desperation. Probably resulting from things like the destruction of the Library of Alexandria and so forth… So they don’t really have any moral quandaries. Not the way a physical entity might.” You sigh and tilt your head, popping your neck to try and relieve some of the discomfort.

“So how-”

“I was the most powerful person in the room when a previous vessel died,” you say exhaling slowly.

“You were a kid,” Shang-Chi said taking the vacant seat on your right.

“It’s- Atypical- according to the Archive for them to inhabit children… Their ability to complete their task can be hindered somewhat by the physical ability of a vessel. But. I had the potential, I guess. So here we are.”

“That was a very coherent explanation,” Kai said mildly.

“Getting out for a while helped make some space to think,” you say shrugging again, “And i did promise an explanation.”

“Space?” Katy asked, frowning.

“Imagine putting all my books into Shang-Chi’s apartment then trying to find something,” you snort. “It takes effort. And a little time. And some shuffling around.”

“Hey!” he protested, throwing one arm over the back of your chair to tug you closer.

“It’s not my fault you live in a literal shoebox.”

“It’s not my fault you’re a nerd,” he chuckles, kissing the side of your head gently.

_________________

You stand on the dock watching the sunlight on the water and sink gratefully onto the warm wood. For a person as introverted as you are, being bombarded on all sides all the time is… Overwhelming. You can hear the people in the distance. The talking and laughing and general ruckus. It’s familiar. But right now you’d kill for silence.

And you aren’t sure but, you think that the Archive might have similar feelings. That in itself is a blessing. You’re tired. Your body is sore. And all you want is to crawl back into your bed.

“You okay?”

You half turn to look up at Shang- Chi and smile a little. “Just tired,” you assure him.

“Are you always… this way?” He doesn’t really know how to put it. Or if you really want company. But, he settles behind you and pulls you against his chest.

“Tired? Yeah. The Archive doesn’t sleep. It interferes with the mission. Which means I’m more often than not awake the entire time… Unless it affects the performance of the vessel. Then I can sleep.”

He doesn’t really know what to say to that. So he doesn’t say anything. Gratified when you don’t pull away he pulls you a little closer and kisses the side of your head.

And not for the first time, you thank whatever gods might be listening for people who understand silence.

Shang-chi isn’t sure when you fall asleep. But when he hears the quiet little snores from your head being in a slightly weird angle, he smiles a little and adjusts you carefully to be laying more securely against his chest. It gives him some time to think.

For the years that he spent dancing around you as you started as a friend of Katy’s, he’d felt a pain. A sense that something was too raw to touch. It had made you feel familiar. It made you feel like a kindred spirit. A twin flame. Even as you both tried to hold back, to love people without letting them see the ugly things you kept hidden. Even as you’d tried to build a relationship on secrets. But now? This moment sitting in the sunshine on the dock with you snoring on his shoulder, it feels more intimate than any time he’d ever managed to get you naked. For you to be this comfortable with him… Not to belittle the sanctity of a drunk make out after a duet at karaoke but… It felt like progress. Real progress. He could see the person you were under all the secrets and little white lies. And somehow, it wasn’t very far from what he already knew.

Footsteps on the dock behind him make him half turn, careful not to jostle you awake. He’s not surprised to see Kai standing there. “Is she asleep?”

He nodded, reluctant to talk in case you weren’t as deeply asleep as you seemed.

“Good,” Kai said relaxing a little. “Listen, Grandma is going to turn this into a party… It’s Charity season and Y/N hasn’t been home for anything in… a while. So the aunts and subsequently all the kids are on their way. If you can I’d carry her into the house and put her back to bed. Once the kids learn she’s here there’s not going to be any more sleeping.”

When Kai noticed him frowning the other man smiled a little. “She means well. After… Everything happened Grandma just didn’t want her to be treated like a leper.” You stir sleepily and both men wince reflexively, “Can you-”

“I got her,” Shang-Chi answered, reluctant to let you go. Not even to Kai.

And to his credit, Shang-Chi thought, Kai let him go past without much more than a nod.

[winterscaptain]

the pleasures of the elder.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: the people have spoken, and they all love sean hotchner. this fits after mean it in the joyful future universe, but no context is actually required to enjoy a little bit of sibling rivalry. title comes from jane austen’s quote: “the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.” 

words: 3k warnings: language, alcohol use, sex mention, jealous!aaron, perceptive!sean

summary: when he arrives for an impromptu visit, sean knows his brother too well to give him any moment’s peace - especially when it comes to you. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed

A man, both very handsome and vaguely familiar, pushes through the glass doors and walks across the bullpen - a visitor's badge pinned proudly to his leather jacket. You try to place him, but come up short. 

You’re alone, for the time being. Almost everyone is off running some kind of last-minute errand around the federal building - making copies, finishing paperwork, or in a meeting (in Hotch’s case). It’s the last dregs of the day, the sun setting over the river. 

The man stops in front of your desk. “Hi. Are you part of the BAU, or am in the wrong place?” His eyes are bright, roaming over your face with a kind of curious, warm, knowing air. 

You smile at him, and before you can answer -

“Sean!” JJ’s fond tone carries across the bullpen, and she arrives with an armful of cases. 

Sean? 

Oh my god. 

Sean Hotchner. 

“Hey, JJ, right?”

She laughs, sounding a little younger than she is. You can’t blame her. Sean is exceedingly handsome in an entirely different direction than his older brother. And if your memory serves correctly, just a year older than you. “Yeah, that’s right. Good to see you.” He offers her a hand, and she shifts her files to take it. His handshake is firm, and lasts just a moment too long. 

You kick back in your chair, almost inviting him to lean against your desk. “Hotch is in a meeting, if you’re looking for him. He should be out in,” you check your watch, “about five minutes.”

Sean turns back to you, his shockingly blue eyes meeting yours. “Thanks.” He smiles at you again, and you’d be lying if you said your heart was doing normal things in your chest. “Sean Hotchner. I’m Aaron’s - sorry, Hotch’s - little brother.”

Those eyes are dangerous. 

Oh, poor Aaron. 

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.” 

Just as you suspected moments ago, he takes the initiative and leans against your desk. JJ hovers nearby, a little smile on her face. You watch as she sends a quick text, and puts her phone back on her belt. 

Gotta tell the girls...

“So,” he starts, brisk and businesslike, “you definitely weren’t here during my last visit. What’s your story?”

“Well, if you must know -“

“I must.” He flashes you another smile, and you can only imagine all the trouble he caused growing up. Or, rather, you can imagine all the trouble he would have caused if his brother wasn’t around to bail him out. Five years ago, you would have been drawn into his pretty eyes and wide smile. Now, you can only see a boyish, overt, almost-inelegant version of the understated warmth you love in Aaron. 

You give him a quick rundown of your history: hometown, alma mater, etc. “- I was an academy grad in 2007, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Ah, so not a newbie anymore. And you’ve worked with my brother the whole time?” He almost looks impressed. His glance down to your ringless left hand doesn’t escape your notice.

Oh Sean, if only you knew. 

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked under Hotch for five years now.” 

And I’ve worked over him for about three months. Also under him, around him, on the couch, in the kitchen, etc.

Shut up. 

C’mon. It’s funny.

A low whistle leaves him as you bite back a smile. “Damn. I’m so sorry. He’s a real hardass.”

You lean in conspiratorially, and you’re almost cheek-to-cheek as he leans down to listen. “You know, that’s what I hear, but -” 

Penelope bursts through the doors and calls your name, carrying an armful of papers that have absolutely nothing to do with the work going on upstairs. Emily is close behind her, an amused grin on her face. 

Sean leans back so you can finally see her. “Yeah?”

“I have these for - Oh, hi Sean!” She says it like she hasn’t already decided her primary objective is to get his attention. 

“Hey!” He looks over at her, one finger up to stop her in her tracks. “Wait, don’t tell me. Garcia, right?”

“Penelope,” JJ supplies helpfully. 

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.” He offers her his hand, and she takes it. You’re almost certain he winks at her, and she smiles through the blush rising on her cheeks. 

He really is a heartbreaker, huh?

Aaron must have had his work cut out for him.

Derek rounds the corner and immediately rolls his eyes at the scene before him. Sean has his body angled toward you (in your chair, completely open, with your chin in your hand) while he shakes Penelope’s hand. JJ pretends to do work off at her desk behind yours, but she’s completely tuned into the conversation. Emily’s sitting on her own desk off to the side, watching the whole thing with a certain degree of good humor. 

“Sean, good to see you, man.” Derek walks over and takes Penelope under his arm. It’s almost possessive, and you almost laugh. 

Sean releases Penelope’s hand and takes Derek’s. “Hey, Morgan. How’ve you been?”

Their bro-to-bro catch-up fades into the background as you see Hotch appear on the breezeway by his office. You look up at him before pointedly glancing at Sean beside you. He sighs, then calls, “Sean.”

The man in question turns, and a smile breaks out over his face when he sees his brother. There’s something cocky about it, and you don’t miss the way his body language remains keyed into you as he speaks. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Aaron takes another deep breath and walks down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come see my big brother at work?”

Aaron’s eyebrow is dubious at best. “What do you need?”

Sean laughs, and it reminds you enough of Aaron’s that it draws a wide smile from you. You find yourself looking fondly up at Sean, seeing more of the resemblance now that they’re beside each other. Aaron’s jaw flexes. You notice. 

Oh, see, now this is fun. 

“I was just in town and figured I’d stop by to see if you were here or out on a case.” Sean glances down at you with another charming smile before looking back at his brother. “I guess I got lucky.” 

He’s just full of those smiles, isn’t he?

JJ jumps in. “We’re actually planning on going out to drinks once we wrap up in a couple of minutes. You’re more than welcome to come.”

While JJ pulls attention elsewhere, you glance up at Hotch and throw him a wink. Hey. Relax. 

His jaw relaxes just a touch, and his lips twitch. As usual, he covers it by crossing his arms over his chest. Don’t be a shit. 

You wet your lips and purse them a little. Nice try. 

He shifts, just a little, raising an eyebrow. You’re really gonna go there?”

Watch this. You toss him a quick smile. “That would be great!” You brush Sean’s sleeve as you unnecessarily reach over him for Penelope. “What do you think, Pen?”

“Oh, we’d love that!” Penelope takes your hand, squeezes it, and looks up at Derek. “Wouldn’t we?”

Derek nods. “We’d love to have you, man. It’ll be good to hear what you’ve been up to in New York.” 

Aaron does his best to suppress his eye roll. You’re lucky he loves you, childish antics and all. 

+++

When you split up into your respective cars, Sean elects to ride with you over his brother. You and Hotch play the role of designated drivers. You’ve fallen into the routine, finding it's much easier to sneak around your coworkers as they get more and more inebriated through the evening. 

Aaron doesn’t look too happy with the ride arrangements, but he lets it slide. Dave and Emily ride with him, while you have Derek, Penelope, and JJ in the car with you and Sean. 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust Sean. 

Logically, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. He woke up this morning to your patient, adoring eyes and your hands playing with his hair. You ate breakfast together (read: sat in his lap with a bowl of cereal while he read his emails), were (almost) late due to your showering arrangement, and only parted after a (very) good kiss in the driveway. 

Still though, he can’t quite shake the insecurities he always felt with his brother. Thirteen years his junior, Sean always seemed to excel in every social pursuit. Music, girls, friends - he was able to settle into things Aaron always struggled with. It was stupid. Aaron was well into his thirties when Sean was in undergrad, but that prickle of envy never seemed to fade. 

Their mother never put the pressure on Sean the way she did on Aaron, and in some ways it made sense. He was a teenager when their father passed, and Sean was hardly a child. More responsibility, more weight, less credit. 

Aaron might be his mom’s pride and joy, even to this day, but Sean will always be her baby. 

Thus, watching Sean easily weasel his way into one of your smiles wore on almost thirty years of tension. 

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Emily asks, tapping Hotch’s shoulder with gentle fingers. Upon making contact, she snorts. “Wow, you’re really tense.” 

Hotch shakes his head and shrugs her off. “I’m alright.” 

It’s Dave’s turn to snort. “No you’re not. You’ve been scowling since Sean showed up.”

“He just has that effect on me. Always has.” 

“C’mon, Aaron.” Dave says. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. “He’s just a kid.” 

With a flat deadpan, Aaron replies, “He’s thirty.” 

Emily leans forward on the center console, inserting herself into the conversation. “Hotch, you don’t have anything to worry about. Sean doesn’t have anything on you.” She bumps his shoulder with hers. 

He sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Emily and Dave share a look and a little smile. 

+++

You hop out of the car, swinging your keys in your hand. Hotch is a couple of spots down from you in the parking lot, and your little groups meet up somewhere in the middle. Falling back, you let Derek and Emily lead the way. When they’re all in front of you, Sean included, you press your shoulder to Aaron’s for just a moment. 

“Are you going to be childish?” he says, quietly. 

You suppress a smile. “You’re fun when you’re jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous.” 

“Alright.” Your hand snags his for just a moment, before you jog forward to catch up to the rest of the group. 

“There you are!” Sean’s voice rings out, and you let him tuck you under his arm. You wrap an arm around Sean’s waist and chance a look back to grin at Aaron. 

Gotcha, babe. 

Aaron rolls his eyes so loudly you can see it from twenty feet away. Ridiculous. 

I love you. 

I know. 

+++

You’ve all managed to secure a table. While not incredibly crowded, there are plenty of people around. You planted yourself next to Aaron, and Sean planted himself next to you. The music is just loud enough to encourage dancing without requiring a shout to communicate. 

Derek downed his first drink and led Penelope on the floor within ten minutes of your arrival. 

The round table is crowded, and your pinkie locked in Aaron’s belt loop goes unnoticed. He stretches his arm out behind you to clap Sean’s shoulder, and his fingers quickly trace across your shoulders as he pulls it back. 

“So what have you been up to, Sean?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.” He pulls from the drink in front of him and you’re almost certain it’s just a Coke. 

Sober? Getting there? 

Remind me to get the skinny on that later. 

10-4.

Aaron chuckles darkly. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

Sean shrugs, and leans back, checking out the dance floor. You pull your pinkie from Aaron and put both of your hands on the table. Emily’s looking a little too watchful tonight, and you’d hate to lose your bet. 

Your money is on making it more than six months without alerting the team you’ve been sleeping together. Aaron, always of little faith, took the alternative. 

“Dance with me?” Sean offers you a hand, and you take it. Before you get too far, you lean across Aaron to take another sip of your drink. When you lose your balance (on purpose), Aaron steadies you with a hand around your waist, making sure you’re settled on your feet before you jet off with Sean. 

“Thanks, Hotch!”

He takes a long pull from his beer - his only drink for the evening. Hotch. Gimme a break. 

“Looks like they’re hitting it off great,” JJ says with a laugh. “That works out. I mean, Sean’s about our age, right?”

Don’t remind me. 

“Yep. Turned thirty last month.” Aaron does his best to not sound too bitter. 

JJ smirks at Emily, who turns to smirk at Dave. They don’t know what they don’t know, but they certainly know enough to keep an eye on Aaron for the rest of the evening. 

“That’s in-flight entertainment, baby.” Emily whispers to JJ. “I can’t wait to tell Will. He’s going to die laughing.” 

JJ lets out a peal of laughter. “Absolutely.”

Out on the floor, you’re having way too much fun, sandwiched between Derek and Sean. You pull Penelope between you and Derek, and loop an arm over Sean’s shoulders. 

“So,” he says, his lips close to your ear and his voice barely audible over the music, “how long have you been sleeping with my brother?”

You freeze for just a moment, but it’s a moment too long to recover. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Question in response to a question? That’s like profiling 101.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sean rolls his eyes. “He’s halfway in love with you, if not completely fucked, in case he’s failed to tell you.” He spins you out, and back in so your back is against his chest. 

“We’ve got that covered, yeah.” You twist in his arms. “You gonna do anything about it?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’s pretty funny to get him all worked up, though, don’t you think?” Another bright smile crosses his face and his blue eyes seem to glow in the dim light. 

“Oh, Sean. I think we’re going to get along just fine.” You laugh and reach for him again, but a finger appears in your belt loop. Derek pulls you back toward him by the hip. He’s stupid strong, and you can only tumble back into him with another laugh. 

You’re sweaty, sober, and having way too much fun.  

“Careful, kid. I think Hotchner has a crush.” Derek’s playful jab is warm against your ear as you fall in with him, cheek-to-cheek. 

“What can I say?” You ask. “I’m irresistible.” 

Derek throws you under his arm in a spin and you land back at his chest with the wind knocked out of you. “He’s gotta get in line though.”

“Oh?”

“I think his big brother’s gonna give him a run for his money?” 

That’s enough for you. “Gimme a break, Morgan.” With a laugh, you shove at Derek’s chest and leave the floor. Returning to the table, you sidle up to Aaron again. “Hey, Hotch. Having fun?”

He gives you a weak glare out of the corner of his eye and takes a sip of his beer. “A blast.” 

“Couple more hours, if that, then we’ll be home.” You drop your voice, almost whispering into your glass as you take another sip.

Aaron nods. “Can’t come soon enough.” 

The rest of the team gets more and more sloshed as the evening progresses, and you can get away with a lot more. That said, Sean’s eyes are playful, sober, and more than a little amused. 

“What did my brother say to you?” Hotch murmurs, under his breath. The girls went to the bathroom (and to call Spencer a cab home) while Derek and Sean posted up at the bar, itching for an excuse to give some asshole the what-for. 

You bump his shoulder. “Just that you’re half in love with me, if not already completely fucked.” 

He heaves a sigh. “Can’t catch a break.” You link your pinkie through his belt loop again. “He’s right, though.” 

“How’s that?” You look up at him and you know he can see how much you love him. 

“I’m completely fucked.” 

If any of your team members wonder what’s so fucking funny, they don’t ask. It’s just good to see Hotch smiling again. 

+++

At the end of the night, you drop Sean back off at the hotel on your way home. He’s the last in your car, so he can speak his mind with a certain degree of freedom. You idle in front of the building for a moment, just enjoying the silence.

“Hey.” 

You look over at him. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great in-law. Just wanted you to know that I’m here for it.” He offers you a hand. You shake it and it almost feels like you’re making some kind of gentleman’s agreement. “Take care of him. He needs it.” 

“Oh, don't worry. I know.”

The smile you share is that of a pair of co-conspirators, of siblings, of friends. 

We’ll do just fine, you and I. 

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[theidiootti1]

My Mysterious Scotcman•

Chapter: 2

There it was. Their target. Sitting on a chair back towards the crew, seemingly writing something that made him sigh and rub his forehead. Filip swallowed and his throath felt thight, this was really happening now. No backing down anymore.

*you can do it..c'moon don't be stupid chicken shite..*, Filip thought .

Finally the group leader moved forward and it was time for action. They catched that guy without him noticing anything. The guy fell of his chair and stumbled on floor trying to get away from us. The blond haired leader catched the back of his jacket and banged the guys face against the hard wooden table.

Filip had taken his gun from back of his jeans and now held it with both hands. His hands shaking and heart beating. Everyone had gathered around there. Few watching out of windows or keeping eye on the doors. When Filip saw the guys face he was shocked. That guy who they were supposed to kill. He wouldn't be more than a bit over 20 years. Filip swallowed and held his gun lower, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Shoot him", growled the leader who was standing beside the trembling body.

"DO IT!!" The other one yelled with really annoyed tone.

It was like the whole time stopped in that very place. The only thing that the young boy with a gun heard was his own beating heart. He rised his gun, not shaking anymore. He shot twice that young guy to head and he dropped to the floor while his life was escaping his body. Filip lowered his gun and sighed. He couldn't believe what he just did. He watched the growing dark puddle of blood that was leaking on the floor. He felt heavy clap on his shoulder, but he couldn't react.

"Great now let's get the hell out of here..", one of the crew members growled until one of the boys runned to the mainroom.

"Lads..we have company", he said with an scared expression.

"Shit...", the boss growled when there was sounds coming from the front door "They said that the place will be empty...god, let's go !!" He yelled and all started to run to the door. But one stayed almost like glued to the floor.

Filip just stood there. Still eyes glued to the body that was laying at his feet. He couldn't take his eyes away from it, he couldn't watch away from the mess on the floor. The guilt flowed through him.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Came the voice of an confused and pissed man

Filip rised his gaze finally breaking the spell but too late as the other guy who came from the behind of the guy who spoke. That man had gun in his hand and rised it . Filip didn't have time to react as the Next thing he felt was the fastly spreading pain at his thigh as the bullet hit his leg. He stumbled down on to the floor, beside the already cold body of their victim's. He forced himself up from the floor with final glance to the body .

"I'm Sorry", he mouthed and jolted towards the back door where they came in .

He heard angry shouts and yelling from behind him as the guys discovered their dead friend. They started chasing after him down the streets under the dark and rainy evening.

They say that adrenalin makes you do crazy things. It's meant to help you survive in dangerous situation. Maybe that and the shock from the pain was driving the young guy forward through the side streets. He didn't feel the burning pain of the shot wound as he ran as fast as his legs could go. He probably haven't ever run as fast as he did now.

The only thought that was running through his dead was the voice telling him *murderer*. Why was he so weak. What lead him into this situation.

*? POV*

The rain was still heavily assaulting the city of Belfast as I left my work place in hospital. I was casually driving my car and silently singing along with a song that was coming from the radio at low volume. I was totally in my own world as i started jamming along with the song. My whole day had been hectic and total chaos because of this wet rainy day.

I'm still not used to these rainy days, not even after a half of year of living now in this autumn time Ireland. Yes you heard right. I am not from here. I was born and rised in the United States, I had lived my whole life there. Until that one day when i just wanted to get away and have a fresh start. Change of the scenario as you would say. So I ended up here, in this happy place called Belfast. I moved to live with my aunt who happened to live here and she gave me an offer to come to her place and crash there. I took the offer and soon I found myself from here. No one wouldn't believe that nor would I had as a kid. After few months of living on my aunts hair i decided to get my own place. I moved to live with my one long term friend who had moved here few years before me. We were almost like sisters before she moved to be closer to her family. Now we lived in the same house like some teenagers.

I started working in the hospital as a nurse. The job that i had went to school for. I think i always wanted to work in medical side. I loved helping peoples it was some sort of calling for me, but sometimes the hard job and being the superhero of the day can suck all your juices away and left you all weary. Like today. From all the days, today everyone chosed to break what ever bone they can break or fall at home and fracture something. Sick elderly people coming to reception just hoping for a chat with someone. There actually never was anything wrong just normal old peoples stuff. The list goes on and on. I was totally ready to get to my bed, pull the blanket over my head and sleep for the next 24 hours. Straight. Not kidding.

As I drived down the dark and dimly lit street, only the cars light illuminating the road with yellow light. I wasn't prepared that someone would be outside at this time of the night. There wasn't change for me to react faster than i did as some dark object run straight infront of my car getting hit by me. With a loud thud the dark object fell down onto the street from the force of the car.

I did fast brake and i rised my hands over my mouth. Did I just run over someone ?! All kind of scenarios started to run in my head as I opened the car door and i unbuckled my seatbelt. I hopped out of the car into the cold and wet air as i walked to the front of my car. On the ground there was laying dark clothed person who i assumed to be young man. He was hurriedly trying to get up from the street as i shook my head getting back into this moment.

"Hey, stay down !" I suddenly opened my mouth and the person tried to get up even faster but failed with their attempt. Apperently he was clutching at his leg.

I moved fast squating down and carefully placing my hand on the shaking body on the ground "Hey ? Did you get hurt ?" I asked. I immedietly mentally kicked myself. It was stupid question of course you get hurt when you get hit by a car. Stupid me.

The man still kept trying to get away from me what showed me that he couldn't be that much hurt. I studied him with my eyes in the light of my car and i saw blood on the street. The blood had to come from him and what ever it was that was bleeding, was bleeding heavily. And when i saw his bloody hands.

"Hey, don't move you are bleeding..", i said with a rised voice. I tried my best to stay calm and keep the man on the ground "You need to go to hospital..", I said as the man suddenly had his attention to me

"No hospital !!!", he growled at me "They..will find me", he Whispered almost with inaudible voice. He had an thick accent what was hard to understand. Even for me who was constantly around Irish and british accents. This was different.

I looked at him and then around to our surroundings. Who would find him ? What had this poor man put himself into. What ever it was i wouldn't liked to be part of that. No i was just an avarage working woman.

I was again snapped out of my thoughts as the man tried once again to get up but fell flat on his stomach on the wet street. Breathing heavily. It was more like huffing than breathing anyways. I needed to do something...it's my curse as an nurse I swore it in my vow.

Then the light bulp went on my head and i made probably the worst decision what you can make with completely stranger, but it was the only option at this point. I stumbled up from the ground and i sneaked my arms around his torso, getting only a painful grunts and growling from him

"C'moon help me a bit", i hissed at him and i got him up from the ground and to the backseat of my car we went. Slowly but we made it. After a little of fightning back, he was nicely seated there as buckled him up and i closed the door.

This mysterious man was already drifting from consciousness so i have to go fast. As i was walking around my car i saw dark clothed peoples at the end of the dark alley. I gulped and basically runned fastly to drivers side door and i hopped in . Fastly change gear and started driving forward. Those peoples didn't have any kind of nice vibe coming from them.

I looked at the backview mirror, and to the mysterious man who was now sitting at the backseat of my car. What the hell i was thinking about ?! Is he dangerous ?? What if those peoples were chasing him and they follow me back to our house . I couldn't put my finger on those thoughts and my heart kept racing the whole drive back to me and my friends house. As i watched at the rewiev mirror to the man who was hunched at the back seat i had feeling in my heart. I have to help him, I almost just killed him so i have it for him.

To be continued…

[pagesoflauren]

The Riveter Ch. 4

Steve Rogers x mechanic!reader

Summary: After escaping Hydra, you assist Dr. Erskine in helping Steve Rogers become Captain America. When Erskine is assassinated, you think your WWII career is over. Unfortunately, the SSR and Hydra are not done with you yet.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, mentions of trauma, slow burn, dialogue-heavy chapters, comic book science

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. I had fun writing it!  Thank you to @seeevans and @dbnightingale24 for helping me with this! Major shoutout to @writeyourmindaway for creating such wonderful and beautiful dividers! 

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

You’re jostled awake, shaken as you lay at the end of a truck bed, spotting the shaky view of the road. The sky is filled with smoke, the bitter smell filling your lungs, beckoning you away from dreamland. 

Though, your sleep was dreamless nonetheless. 

You can’t recall anything immediately, only feeling the urgent need to get off the truck you’re on. As your senses slowly become acute, you can hear some soldiers speaking German behind you. 

“It’s amazing it’s still asleep,” one mutters. 

“I wonder what Herr Schmidt did,” another voice responds. 

“That’s not important,” the first one speaks up again. “We should not concern ourselves with such matters too much. All we need to know is it’s vital to us winning the war.”

You cringe at the pronoun they use for you, but ignore it as you begin to devise a plan to escape. 

Slitting your eyes open, you spy the switch used to drop the tailgate. Stretching your leg under the guise of fidgeting in your sleep, your toe just reaches the lever. You don’t hear or sense any movement from the men, so you keep your foot poised there. 

A few minutes later, you hear exactly what you were hoping for: “Hold on, men!” the driver calls from the cab. 

There’s a rough patch in the road and you kick. The other objects and the metal rack above the bed rattle too, masking the sound of the tailgate dropping. With it down, you’re exposed to the breeze.

You’re tossed this way and that and the men seem distracted with securing whatever else is being transported with you. You take that as your opportunity, rolling out and bracing yourself quickly. 

Falling on the bumpy dirt road knocks the breath out of you, but you gulp and turn to your front to get to your feet. Before the men can recognize that you’re gone, you’ve disappeared into the treeline. 

Leaning against a trunk, you catch your breath and try to orient yourself, but you don’t have much direction. What began as confusion between east and west grew into not knowing which way is up or down. Sliding down to sit, you lean your head back. When you close your eyes, you hear Zola’s voice echoing in your head. 

-----

Celebrations were underway, Steve still receiving congratulations while the captured men reunited with their friends, lovers, and commanders. He even received the Medal of Valor, which he didn’t attend the ceremony for. 

Not only was there so much to do in London, he knew in his heart he couldn’t accept it. While he succeeded in saving Bucky and the rest of the 107th, he failed to make sure his partner was safe as the two of you carried out your mission. 

In idle moments, he hears you screaming; behind shut eyes, he sees your face. When he doesn’t see you, he sees Peggy and Howard, somber expressions. Where Agent Carter is normally composed, her lip wobbles at the thought of you. Howard ran a hand down his face, eyes shiny and voice clogged as he asked if there was a chance you were alive. 

Steve didn’t know, and he still doesn’t. He was sent to England less than a day after returning from Austria. Peggy was called too but requested an extension to continue working with Howard in Italy. 

Work continued, but it was slower without her intelligence contributions in devising a plan to take down the Hydra bases he made note of. After a long day of nothing, Colonel Phillips dismisses the meeting. 

“Rogers, before you hit the hay,” the older man says, “You may want to visit the infirmary before their visiting hours end.” 

Confused and concerned, Steve nods and makes his way out of the situation room, navigating the narrow halls to the medical wing.

He sees Howard first, sitting across from a head of brown curls that Steve can deduce is Agent Carter. There’s a doctor at the foot of the bed relaying information to the patient. 

You lay there, scratches adorning your face and eyes heavily lidded. 

Steve’s heart is light with disbelief and repose for feeling calm at the sight of you safe in an Allied facility. 

“...I’ll leave you to rest.” 

“Thank you, doctor,” you smile. 

Howard spots him in the doorway, nodding in greeting, “Hey, Cap.”

Stepping in awkwardly, Steve feels shy seeing you. He stands in the place the doctor once occupied, hands folded behind your back. 

“I’d venture to say dress greens suit you better than tights,” you joke, voice gravelly. You laugh then groan and Steve is concerned again. 

“You can’t laugh, love,” Peggy reminds you.

“What happened?” he wonders.

You rattle off your injuries: scratches, dislocated shoulder from falling out of the truck, bruised ribs, and major fatigue from lack of food and water. 

“How’s your head?” Howard prods.

“Better now that I’ve rested.”

Steve likes hearing that you’ve been better, but he can’t imagine what you’ve been through that was worse. “When did you get here?” 

“We arrived at a little past noon. The doctor thinks she was out in the Austrian forest for a little over twelve hours before we found her,” Peggy answers for you. “We’ll give you two some time to catch up.” 

“Why do we have to--”

There’s a thud and Howard groans, face scrunching up in pain as he looks at Peggy. 

“Ouch! ...Okay. We’ll see you later, little miss,” he gets up, kissing your forehead. “Captain.” 

“Get some rest, love,” Peggy cradles your cheek.

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing her hand. “Thank you for finding me.”

“Of course,” she smiles. She turns back to Steve, regarding him with a nod.

When they both leave, your eyes are on him and he smiles nervously, pointing to the chair Peggy just vacated. You tilt your head towards it as if giving him permission to sit down.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he tells you honestly. “Must’ve been hell...being in there alone.” 

Your shoulder lifts slightly; a shrug of some sort. “Could’ve been worse. I think it goes without saying, though.” 

Pursing his lips, he considers your words for a moment. “Do you remember anything?”

You close your eyes and inhale slowly, wincing a little at the pain when your ribs move as you take in air. “Plenty.” Eyes opening, you look a little perplexed. “But at the same time, not a lot.” 

Steve cocks an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

Your mouth opens to speak, but you’re interrupted by nurses murmuring at a nearby table. “I’d explain but it’s classified.” 

“You’d keep secrets from me?” he smirks. “Thought we were friends.” 

You smile. “Only until we’re around people on a need-to-know basis. Phillips must’ve told you, right?” Steve tilts his head curiously. “Once I’m on my feet, I’m meant to debrief everything I remember.” 

He makes a mental note to ask Phillips about it. At the mention of you recovering, Steve thinks back to the injuries you mentioned. “Seems like you got outta Hydra with a lot of luck.” 

Your face doesn’t change, but he sees your eyes flick to the left. “Luck indeed.” 

“Could’ve been worse, like you said.” 

You purse your lips, nodding. 

Looking down, Steve decides to drop the subject. Howard and Peggy went all the way back to the factory to find you based on the slim chance that you were still alive. He can imagine them combing through dozens of trees before finding you. 

They trust you. Steve trusts you. 

But why wasn’t it worse for you?

“Captain Rogers, my apologies,” a nurse speaks as she approaches your bedside. “But it’s time for the infirmary to close to visitors.” 

Nodding to her, there’s an idle moment until she realizes she should give some space for him to say goodnight. 

“Well,” he says, standing up, “Feel better soon.” 

“Thanks, Steve.”

He pauses, fidgeting with the air as he contemplates bidding you goodbye in an additional way. You raise your eyebrows expectantly.

“Goodnight,” he blurts, turning on his heel and walking out. He can hear you saying it back as he leaves, a perplexed lilt in the word. 

Days later, Steve sits surrounded by other high-ranking officers. Howard is there too, studying a diagram of a Hydra weapon you drew. 

“...She suspects Schmidt is plotting something big, but she doesn’t know exactly what it is or where it could be headed,” Agent Carter concludes, standing at the head of the table. She debriefs the men while you continue to recover in the infirmary, not wanting the SSR to lose time while your body heals. “Questions, gentlemen?”

“This is everything she told you?” Colonel Phillips asks. 

“Yes. It’s all she remembers as well. That drawing is all we have of a blueprint that shows how the Hydra weapons work.” 

“Any information on where the power source is?” another man speaks up. 

“With power such as that, I think it’s safe to assume Schmidt would keep it close. Can’t imagine he’d want it possibly falling into the wrong hands.” 

“And she said it was a stone in a cube?” 

Peggy makes a show of looking at her notes, “Yes, those are Schmidt’s words to her.” 

“You think we can trust her?” he follows up quickly, speaking just as she finishes her sentence.

“I beg your pardon?” Her tone is taken aback as if the question was insulting to her. Steve can understand her offense, but if he’s honest, he wonders the same thing. 

How could someone fall out of a truck and get away with injuries like yours? He would’ve thought you had a head wound and broken bones.

“Why is she even alive?” His follow up question is accusatory. “This is Hydra we’re talking about. They built weapons that disintegrate men and captured a scientist to create a super-soldier serum. They’re led by a lunatic with a melted face. There’s no way they would have kidnapped a mechanic and keep her alive. She worked for them. She knows too much. Why would they risk her escaping and telling us what she knows?”

“If it’s her loyalty you’re questioning, sir, you have no reason to. Hydra has killed everyone she holds dear. She has no family and even her mentor was killed by them. You all saw it. She was taken from her home that didn’t even have any German connections other than the Hydra spy she fitted with a prosthetic arm. Hydra has done nothing for her.” She pauses, appearing to inhale deeply to gather herself. “I don’t think we have any reason to suspect she is undercover on their behalf. I believe Colonel Phillips knows this well; she refused coming to Europe for the SSR in fear that Hydra would find her.” 

He appears satisfied with her defense, raising his hands in surrender. 

“Any more questions?” she asks, crossing her arms, her tone somewhat challenging. 

After a moment, Colonel Phillips stands. “Thank you, Agent. Have a seat.” Nodding, she finds a chair next to Howard. “Now, we have decided to task our former mechanic with being Mr. Stark’s assistant in weapons and she’ll work with Agent Carter in tactics. She has good intel, but we don’t want her skills going to waste. I’m sure she can help think up some good ways to keep our boys safe. I will debrief with her again in the coming days to see if she remembers anything more.” 

After opening the floor to questions again, Phillips dismisses the meeting. Steve watches from his seat as everyone gets up, scattering to their respective workplaces. 

“Stark, Carter, get to work. We need to make sure Rogers and his men are well equipped and ready. Don’t wanna be sending our chorus girl into the fray in his little spangled suit.” 

Phillips looks proud of his joke as he smiles for a split second. His face straightens quickly and he nods before dismissing himself. 

“If you’ll excuse me, boys,” Peggy leaves shortly after. “Should attend to your tactics, Captain.” 

“I should get to working on your stuff,” Howard excuses himself and pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll make sure you don’t look as ridiculous as you do on the stage.”

“Actually,” Steve stops him, “I kinda liked that uniform.” 

Stark looks thoughtful for a minute before he laughs. “Well, I’ll find a compromise. The little miss absolutely hates that suit.” 

Tilting his head and squinting, Steve leaves and heads towards the canteen. 

-----

“I hear you hate my suit.”

The baritone of his voice pulls you from the pages you’re reading. 

He stands in his dress greens again, a dashing smirk on his face as the lights illuminate him from behind, making his hair look like a golden halo above his head. 

“Who told you that?” You close your book, looking at him curiously. Setting it on your bedside table, you sit up a little more. 

“Stark,” he states plainly.

You chuckle once, shaking your head. You expect him to be laughing too, but when you look back up at him, he’s shuffling from one foot to the other. 

“Um, did you--?” you begin, but he blurts out in the middle of your question, “Can I help you with anything?”

“I’m sorry?” you ask, confused. 

“Well, I just...I was wondering if you needed anything. Are you hungry? Or how’s your leg?”

“Oh--” 

“What about the pillow behind you, does that need to be fluffed? Maybe I could bring you another book.” 

“Steve--?”

“Just...anything you need?” 

You blink, waiting for him to continue. When he says nothing else, you pipe up. “Well, I’d love some water.” 

He’s quick to accommodate you, walking to the cart on the other side of the room to grab a pitcher and bring it over to your bedside. He picks up the glass next to your book and begins to pour. 

You’re not quite sure how it happened--perhaps some water got on the handle which made it slippery--but the metal vessel fell out of his grip and bounced on your mattress before clattering loudly on the floor. 

The water is making itself known as it seeps through your blanket and your hospital gown, making you cringe away. Steve’s eyes are wide and his cheeks are rosy, the bright color spreading all the way to his ears. 

“I’m so sorry!” He looks up at the hospital staff that heard the ruckus, “I’m sorry, it slipped. She needs a new gown...and bed.” 

They come to assist you, a nurse nudging him out of the way as she lays some rags down to soak up the puddle on the floor. 

“Excuse me, Captain,” she says politely. 

He steps back, watching as the team helps you out of bed to stand on your feet. His heart sinks at the pain you must be in from your ribs, but it doesn’t show on your face. 

“I’ll just,” he excuses himself, but no one is paying attention. 

Shaking his head, he goes to the canteen to sulk. 

---

“I’m back.” 

Steve’s next to your new bed, hands carrying a tray and you can imagine the precarious journey he took to get from the canteen to here. 

“You eat supper yet?” 

“No.” You’re a little relieved. Your nose detects the comforting scent of buttered mashed potatoes and baked chicken. Steve sets the tray in your lap and your eyes gobble the sight, bright orange carrots brilliant against your eyes and a warm bread roll with a pat of butter inviting you to take a bite. “This is the best,” you gush, “I’ve eaten ham sandwiches and Jell-O for the past five days.” 

You close your eyes at the feeling of airy, fluffy fresh bread in your mouth, loving the crunch of the crust between your teeth. 

You moan happily before turning to him. “Thank you,” you smile.

He nods, “Of course. I hope it makes up for my stupid blunder earlier. I’m really sorry about that.”

You observe him as you take another bite, watching him as he watches you. You can’t describe it, but his face manages to say it all.

“Somehow I feel like you’re not here to just apologize for the spilled water. It really wasn’t a huge problem, by the way. They just moved me and gave me a new gown.” 

“Well, I--” he gives a one-handed shrug before bringing his palm to the back of his neck, rubbing the skin there nervously. “I also just...wanted to say sorry.” 

You hum, reaching to the bedside table and sipping from the glass of water. “‘Sorry’ for what?” 

There’s a look in his eyes, something somber and guilt-ridden that makes the blue a little dull. “For leaving you. There. With them.” 

Your head stings, eyes squeezing shut. You can feel your body jolt and a word echoes as if it’s coming from above you. 

Befehl.

You shake your head vigorously, gasping a little. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Sorry, I’m not sure what happened.” 

“Should I call the doctor?”

“No, no. I’m okay.” You gave your head another small jostle before addressing his apology. “Steve, you have nothing to be sorry about. I knew what I was getting into when I jumped out of the plane with you. I’m here now, I’m okay.” 

“But I--”

“Steve, it was my choice.” 

Your sentence seems to stun him into silence. He closes his eyes and gives a reluctant smile. “I guess you’re right.” 

The corner of your mouth twitches up as he concedes. You eat for a few minutes, a little self conscious as you notice his watching you. 

“So...uh, what’s your favorite color?” 

You laugh. “Captain Rogers, why are you here other than to bring me dinner, give me a completely unnecessary apology, and ask me what my favorite color is?” 

“Howard and Peggy are working tonight,” he uses his thumb to point to the door. “I didn’t want you to be alone.” 

There’s a flutter in your stomach, a surge of warmth and happiness that blooms in your chest, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your mouth or the heat that gathers in your face. 

“Well, thank you,” you say as calmly as you can, trying to deflect your emotions by feeding yourself more supper. “How’s your friend? Bucky?” 

He smiles, too, before diving into a story about him. 

He stays as long as he can, telling you stories as you eat and try to not squirt water out of your nose when he makes you laugh. You forget there’s a battle raging on above your heads and across the English Channel. You forget there’s a chance of a Blitz in the evening, or even during the day. 

Forgetting is dangerous. It’s a distraction from what’s really important and demands your attention. 

But you don’t see anything wrong here when you’re on bedrest. 

“They’ll be working again tomorrow,” he says as he gets up when visiting hours are over. “I don’t know when they’ll be free to visit. I could…” He hesitates, looking down and pursing his lips. “I could come by again. Bring you more dinner.” 

You don’t mind being alone, but you don’t tell him that. 

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[imagines4thefandoms]

Suddenly in love pt 2 (Zuko x reader)

requested: no from wattpad

PART 1

word wound 26K+

warning none

You woke up the next day in your own bed. The sun was shining in your eyes and you had this feeling that someone was in the room with you. There was someone standing in the doorway. After rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you noticed that it was Katara.

"It's time to get to work so stop dreaming about Zuko and get dressed," she said turning the lights on.

"It's weird. I never had these dreams about Zuko but now I just can't stop thinking about him," you replied sitting up.

Katara went to your closet and grabbed your work uniform. She tore the blanket off the bed and tossed the uniform to you. You looked down at the uniform and for the first time, you were excited to go to work. Hopefully, you can get your mind off the fact that Zuko is dating some girl named Mai.

"Well, that happens when you're in love with someone."

Katara left after you told her that you will get dressed. You stripped down to your underwear and stared at the uniform. The red polo shirt with the restaurant's name embroidered on the right chest read: Momma Lee's Cajun Cuisine and the black khaki pants. You grabbed a pair of tennis shoes out of your closet and ran out to the room. Aang was sitting at the counter drinking his tea waiting for Katara and you to be ready for work.

"I will put these on in the car. Don't want to be late for work."

After Aang finished his tea and put his mug in the sink, he grabbed his keys and the three of y'all left for work. Aang dropped y'all off at Momma Lee's while he drove further down the street for his shift at "The Oasis" a hippy-dippy coffee shop. This shift at Momma's wasn't awful like they usually are. There were no rude customers and Katara and you both had very good tippers. Roux the chef made y'all his special gumbo for lunch without his annoying sarcasm. It seemed like this was going to be a great day, that is until two people sat in your section.

"Katara please switch sections with me," you asked 'helping' her clear her table.

"Why," she asked looking in your section.

Her eyes stopped roaming the room when they landed on Zuko and who you guessed was Mai. Katara looked over at you and gave you a sad smile and then nodded her head. She knew that right now you didn't want to deal with it. She went over to take their order while you cleaned the tables in her section.

"Hey guys," you overheard Katara say.

"Oh hey Katara I thought this was y/n's section," Zuko asked looking over at you.

"Yeah but we switched it up today. So what can I get for you two," Katara said looking at Mai.

You blocked out the rest of the conversation when Jet and his two friends longshot and smellerbee sat in Katara's section. You walked over to their table to take their order. Longshot and smellerbee were about to place their order when Jet stopped them.

"Y/n this is Katara's section what are you doing here," he asked.

"She is doing me a favor. Don't worry Jet I'll tell her how much you like her and she will still reject you," you replied.

Jet searched the room for Katara. He saw her bringing drinks to Zuko and Mai then looked back at you.

"I see. Bad break up," jet asked.

"What. Zuko and I never," you retorted.

"Really, I just got the vibe."

"Well, you were wrong. So what do you want to eat."

After taking their order and then bringing them their drink you sought refugee in the kitchen. Katara came in there with you and shook her head. You told her about Jet and how he missed her. She was saying something in response but you were focusing on Zuko and Mai. They were eating and talking but they didn't really look happy. You could tell that Zuko was telling a joke based on how he was sitting and his facial expressions but Mai only smiled. Which was bullshit cause Zuko is the funniest person you knew.

"She's not laughing," you spoke.

"I see you weren't listening to me," Katara smiled.

"She's not laughing at his joke."

"Well that probably because he not funny," she replied.

You looked over at her and looked at her like she was crazy.

"He's hilarious."

"No, you think he's funny because you're in love with him."

"I'm in love with him because he is funny," you retorted.

You looked over at Zuko again as saw that he was looking in the kitchen. He knew if you weren't on the floor, that this is where you would be. Mai wasn't at the table. He was trying to wave you over to say hi you guessed. There was no way you would do that. You grabbed a plate of boudin balls and went to Jet's table.

You placed the plate down and tried to make yourself look busy. The boys looked at the food then up at you.

"We didn't order this" Jet said.

"I know it's on me. I just.... Never mind," you replied turning away.

Jet grabbed your hand and told you to sit down. He wouldn't let you object so you sat next to him. Jet have you a smile and then grabbed a strain of your hair and played with it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," you asked slapping his hand away.

"Making Zuko jealous. That what you want isn't it."

You turned your head and looked at Katara who was gesturing you to look at Zuko. Zuko was staring at the interaction between you and Jet and you would tell he wasn't happy about it. His jaw saw locked and his eyes were dark. The last time you saw him get this angry was when his sister had ruined a fort the two of you made when you were 10. You hated seeing him like that. He wasn't just angry you could tell he was hurt or worried. You looked back at Jet and shook your head.

"No, now stop before you have to leave," you got up out of the chair and went back to the kitchen.

You just need to leave but you couldn't for forty more minutes. So you spent that twenty minutes in the kitchen occasionally going to take an order or clean a table. You avoided Zuko and Jet until you had to bring Jet his check. He didn't really sit anything but long shot and Smellerbee thanked you and they left you a nice tip. Which you gave to Katara because it was her section. Katara came over to you and handed the tip that Zuko left.

"He didn't look happy," Katara said slipping Jet's tip into her apron and throwing away his love note.

"It wasn't my idea. Jet just... I can see why you hate him," you replied.

She nodded her head and then the two of you looked at the clock and saw that your shift was over. The two of you left out a sigh of relief then went to say bye to Roux. Y'all walked over to the Oasis and waited for Aang shift to end. He brought out some tea while y'all waited. After 8 minutes Aang came over to the table and placed a kiss on Katara's cheek.

"How was work. Jet didn't bother you too much did he," Aang asked sitting down next to his girlfriend.

"He was awful," you said chugging the last of your tea.

Aang gave a look of confusion which disappeared after Katara explained how you switched sections because of Zuko. He nodded his head then grabbed your cups and brought them to the back. When he came back you the three of you went to head home but stopped when you heard yelling.

"Dude, what's your problem," Jet yelled.

"I don't have one. Just leave y/n alone," Zuko yelled back.

"It's not my fault you missed your chance. Now I can try."

Jet's comment really pissed Zuko off. The three of you were running over to de-escalate the situation but Zuko punched Jet's face before you got there. Jet wiped his mouth and returned the favor to Zuko. Zuko fell to the ground and Jet got on top of him and just kept punching him. Longshot pulled Jet off while Aang held Zuko back from attacking Jet. You got in the middle and just looked over at your best friend.

"Zuko let's go, please."

Zuko looked at Jet then you and nodded. Aang and Katara stayed behind to make sure Jet doesn't attack Zuko from behind, while you brought Zuko to his car. You helped him into his passenger seat while you got in the driver's seat and drove to your apartment. The entire car ride he just looked out the window. You tried to ask him what the fight was about but every time you opened your mouth you decided against it. Once the car stopped Zuko tried to get out but you locked the doors before he could.

"What happened," you asked.

"Nothing," he lied.

Zuko and you never lied to each other. You looked at him and your eyes started to water. He opened his mouth to say something but you just ignored him and exited the car. Zuko tried to talk to you the entire ride up to your apartment. Once you got to your door you entered but closed to the door before he could come in.

"Y/n open the door," he called out but you ignored him and when to go change out of your uniform.

Zuko's POV

I decided to bring Mai to lunch where y/n and Katara worked so they could meet. When we got there, we sat in y/n's section like I always do when I come in during her shift. Mai and I were talking for a bit when Katara came to the table.

"Hey guys," Katara exclaimed.

"Oh hey Katara I thought this was y/n's section," I asked her looking over at y/n cleaning tables in Katara's section

"Yeah but we switched it up today. So what can I get for you two," she replied.

We ordered our food and talking when that guy that keeps flirting with Katara came in with his friends. Some guy name Jet I think. Y/n walked over to their table to take their order. Katara came and brought us our drink when I noticed Jet looking over at me. Stared at him to make sure he didn't try anything with y/n. After she walked away, I went back to my date with Mai.

Mai was pretty easy to talk to, but not as easy as y/n. The conversation with Mai was a bit one-sided but that because she's a little shy. I told her the story about my awful camping trip with Aang and Sokka but it wasn't the same as telling it to y/n. Mai got a call, so she excused herself to take it. While she was gonna I looked around the room for y/n because it was weird that she hasn't come over yet. I found her in the kitchen with Katara and I tried to get her to come over but she had to bring Jet some food. Y/n was about to leave when Jet grabbed her hand and told her to sit. He then began to play with her hair but she slapped his hand away.

I want to kick his ass. Katara never did anything cause she said Jet was a harmless flirt but he is touching her. Y/n left the table but my eye never left Jet. He is a prick and just needs to stop coming around. Mai came back and Katara brought us our food. I tried to enjoy lunch but I couldn't.

Once we finished eating I left a tip for Katara and we left. Mai said she had to meet up with a friend so I walked her to her car then went to wait for y/n. I was heading over to the oasis cause I knew that's where she would be when I saw Jet. Anger filled me and I walked over to him and bumped into him "accidentally".

"Watch where you're going dude," jet said. "Wait Zuko?"

"I think it's best you stop eating at Momma lee's," I told him.

"Why would I. The food is great and the waitresses are hot."

I got some angry that I pushed him against the wall. "I won't tell you again."

"Dude, what's your problem," Jet yelled.

"I don't have one. Just leave y/n alone," I yelled back.

"It's not my fault you missed your chance. Now I can try."

I punched Jet in his smug face and god did it feel nice. Jet wiped his mouth and then hit me right in the jaw. I fell to the ground and Jet got on top of me and repeatedly punched my face. He didn't stop until his friends pulled him off me. I was going to get him back but Aang held me back and y/n got between us.

"Zuko let's go, please," she pleaded as she looked at me.

I nodded my head and we walked over to my car. She helped me into the passenger side while she got into the driver's seat and drove us to her apartment. I just stared out the window for the ride. I just was so angry. Y/n wanted to ask me what was wrong but I didn't want to talk yet. If I didn't I would yell at her. We pulled up and she locked the doors before I could get out.

"What happened," she asked.

"Nothing," I lied.

Shit. It was the first thing that popped into my head. But I lied. I never lied to her. She got mad and exited the car and headed up to her apartment. I tried to catch up and apologized but now she was the one not talking. Once she got to her front door she walked in but closed the door before I could follow.

"Y/n open the door," I called knocking on the door.

I heard a door closed so she probably went to change. I grabbed the spare key I have and opened the door and walked in. Y/n walked out of her room in leggings and a sweatshirt I left here.

"Get out," she warned me.

"I'm sorry. It just came out. I didn't want to talk yet cause I was so angry and I didn't want to yell at you," I explained.

"So what's the truth. What was the fight with Jet about," she asked taking a step closer.

"You. I saw how he treated you at Momma lee's and I told him to leave you alone. But he wouldn't listen," I confessed partially.

"So you punched him?"

"Because he is a pig and you are too good for him."

"You don't need to defend my honor Zuko," she said pointing to the couch.

Y/n went to grab the first aid kit and tend to my wounds. I had a buster lip and a cut on my cheekbone. I will probably have a black eye but I will be fine. She sat next to me and rested her head on my shoulder.

"Just seeing him with you made me so mad. When he touched you," I told her wrapping my arm around her.

There was something that took over me seeing Jet flirt with y/n. It's hard to describe the feeling, but it's gone now. Just the two of us sitting here, it felt right.

Mai's POV

After my date with Zuko, I drove to my house cause she said she was there waiting for me. I opened my front door and took off my shoes and dropped my purse.

"Look I dint know about this prank. It seems a little much even for you," I called out.

"Please Mai. It's just a harmless prank on my brother," Azula said stepping out of my kitchen. "It will be hilarious."