#I’m picking up a second job hopefully at a hospital n I hope I land the job cus interview is this Friday

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The artist is working hard but doesn’t have posable thumbs, pls be patient

[stxrrywildflower]

echo

pairing - bau team x teen!reader

summary - you have to protect henry from an unsub

warnings - mentions of case, violence, injury

word count - ?

when you were sixteen, j.j. and will hired you to be nanny for henry due to their demanding jobs as an fbi profiler and police detective. obviously, you had agreed as you would need the money for college soon.

the two parents were incredibly welcoming, immediately treating you as one of their own. henry loved you too, always being such a good kid when you babysat for him.

however, you knew that with both of their jobs. you were at some risk. j.j. and will planned ahead, giving the code word of ‘echo’ incase you were ever in trouble. one text to them and they would instantly go into full parent mode. it was only to be used in emergencies, such as if henry got seriously injured or some criminal threat.

tonight, for the first time ever, you had to use the code word.

it was a fairly normal friday afternoon. j.j. had called and asked if you could babysit henry while her and will worked the same case. the exact details weren’t revealed but you knew it was bad judging by the news as well as the fact that two separate divisions were solving the case together.

after being dropped off at the families home, you slung your backpack on your back and walked through the gates up to the front door. you first knocked on the door before stepping back. will opened the door a moment later, greeting you with a slight smile, “hey y/n.”

“hey will, is j.j. already working?” you asked, spinning around when you heard thumping on the stairs.

henry rushed in and immediately ran into your arms. you grinned at the young boy and picked him up, placing him on your hip as you ruffled his hair.

“yeah she had to head in early. i just have to grab my bag and then i’m heading out,” will informed you before leaving the room to get his stuff.

you had been babysitting henry long enough that you didn’t need instructions from them. everything was already memorized. henry jumped out of your arms and ran into the living room.

will walked in with his bag and kissed henry on the forehead to say goodbye. “i’m not super sure when we’ll be back. you already know everything and where your room is if you stay over. thanks again,” and with that, the police detective left the house to drive to quantico.

“alright henry,” you started, “you ready for lunch?” henry’s giggle was answer enough.

for the next six or so hours, you and henry played games, colored, and finally watched tv. by eight pm, he had finally settled down to watch a movie.

while henry’s eyes were glued to the tv, you slipped out of the living room and grabbed your phone so you could watch the local news without scaring or distracting him. the breaking news made you extremely uneasy.

“the local killer who has been terrorizing washington d.c. has been reported to be roaming the streets. all residents have been advised to stay inside and lock there doors. a picture should be showing up on your screens now. if you see this man, please contact the police,” the news anchor reported.

you slipped your phone into your pocket and made your rounds around the house to double check that the doors were locked. just as you were locking one of the windows in the front, you noticed a strange van outside of the house.

at first, you thought that it might have been one of the neighbors or some utility truck. but, after the man inside stepped out, you filled with panic. standing outside of the house, just seconds away from walking up, was the killer on the loose. he seemed to noticed your figure in the window and grinned wickedly.

he was targeting you. he was going to storm in this house and kill you. he was going to kill you and then kill henry. oh my god, henry.

you were on autopilot as you ran through the house, picking henry up in one swift motion and only putting him down when you hit the stairs.

“remember when we would play hide-and-go-seek?” you started. upon seeing the young boys nod, you continued, “i need you to go upstairs and find the best hiding spot you can. stay quiet and don’t move until i come and get you. there’s a man outside who wants to hurt us. i love you henry. now go hide.”

“i love you too,” henry replied before running up the stairs and down the hallway as fast as his little legs could take him.

you slipped behind a wall, thankful that you kept your phone with you. after taking a deep breath, you opened the messaging app and clicked on j.j.’s contact. it was a simple four letter word that you sent that could potentially save your life.

‘echo’ you typed before pressing the send button.

by now, all the lights in the house went out. you ditched your phone on the ground just before the front door slammed open. you shut your eyes, a stray tear slipping down your face. it was now or never.

at quantico, j.j. sat at her desk surrounded by the team at their individual work stations. will remained next to his wife while many of the other cops were out on the street. just as j.j. finished going over one of the files about the unsubs past life, her phone buzzed.

j.j.’s furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed it was a message from you. one four letter word was displayed across her screen. ‘echo’ she read.

“oh my god,” j.j. spoke as she jumped out of her chair, grabbing her bag and making sure her gun was on her hip. “hey,” will called, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from going anywhere.

“echo will, echo,” j.j. repeated. after those words processed, will stood up too, his eyes going wide.

hotch and rossi both emerged from their office and walked down into the bullpen. “what’s going on?” the unit chief asked.

“i think the unsub is at my house. y/n sent a text with our code word she only uses in emergencies,” j.j. ranted as she ran her hand through her hair. hotch pondered for a split second before turning to the room.

“let’s go,” was all he said.

meanwhile, back at the house, loud footsteps walked through the house. a million different scenerios flowed through your mind. if you stayed put and hoped j.j. was on her way, you could just hide and hopefully wait it out. but, there was always the chance the man would discover you. the second option was that you fought back. the only con is that he had a knife and you had just barely above average fighting skills.

after choosing the later decision, you went into full stealth mode to find the best vantage point. as you slipped through the rooms and behind various furniture, you held back a smirk as the killer looked around randomly.

finally, when the mans back was turned, you striked.

the first attack was a solid kick to the back of his knees. the mans knife clattered across the floor as he stumbles slightly. you held your hands up in fists as the killer turned around. he charged at you, pushing you back into the wall. a hard punch was landed to your nose and eyes. your lip managed to split in the process too along with your injured ribs from the tackle. you managed to get out of his grip and kick him in the crotch. when he doubled over, you elbowed him in the back causing him to cripple to the ground.

you were honestly slightly proud of yourself for making it this far but you still had a long way to go. after kneeling down beside him, you punched him once in the nose to add to the pain. the final blow, which knocked him out, was a hard kick to the head.

with shaky hands, you rushed out of the main room and into the connected garage. as fast as you could, you rummaged through the cabinet trying to find something to further prevent the man from causing anymore harm. you stumbled upon zip ties and let out a sigh of relief.

you fastened the zip ties around his wrists and ankles thus preventing him from moving if he did wake up. you left the man on the floor and ran to the stairs.

“henry!” you called, your voice echoing up the stairs, “it’s safe, you can come out now.” maybe that last part was a slight lie but you needed henry to know that it was okay.

the blond-haired boy peered around the railing before running down the stairs and into your arms. despite the pain it brought your ribs, you picked henry up and placed him on your hip as you hugged him. after moving into the main living room, you leaned against the back of the couch and shut your eyes.

for the second time that night, the door slammed open. in stormed the bau team and you could hear other sirens outside. you winced at the lights being turned on so suddenly but still turned to face the group.

j.j. and will immediately rushed over to where you were with henry. will took his son out of your arms and lead him away from the scene. j.j., however, pulled you into a hug, cradling your head with her hand as you began to cry. you were sure that the blood from your nose was definitely getting on her vest.

“i’m sorry,” you choked out.

frowning, j.j. pulled away and placed her hands on your cheeks. yours, in contrast, moved to hold her wrists.

“hey, don’t even say that. you saved henry and for the most part, saved yourself. did you take him down all by yourself?” j.j. questioned.

you nodded as you used the back of your hand to wipe away some of the blood on your face. “i am so proud of you.”

the man was all but thrown into the police car as hotch walked over to where you and j.j. were still standing. “ambulance it waiting,” the man spoke. she turned to you, “we need to get you to a hospital to look at your injuries. i know your parents are out of town and i’m already down as an emergency contact. is it all right if i go with you?”

j.j.’s voice mirrored the one she used for henry. after shaking your head yes, j.j. wrapped an arm around you before leading you out of the house and to the driveway.

with one final smile to will and henry, you both climbed inside, j.j. holding your hand the entire way.

[dreadpoetssociety]

That’s Not Some Girl, That’s My Sister

TW: Abuse, physical injuries

Request: 

I noticed you wrote Spencer X Sister!Reader. I was wondering if you could write a Penelope Garcia X Little!Sister!Reader. When their parents died Y/N was just born so she was put into foster care because Garcia couldn’t care for her. Garcia visits her every chance they get and they keep in touch 24/7. What Garcia doesn’t know is that Y/N is being abused at her foster home. When she turns 16 it gets so bad that she can barely move. One day she walks into the bau bloodied and bruised... (1/?) Morgan notices her, (The team doesn’t know she exists) and is like, “Hey kid you alright?” She drops to the floor and Garcia comes out to prep the team for a case and sees her on the floor. She drops her papers and runs over, holding her close. The team, who don’t know Y/N come out and ask what’s wrong and Morgan says that some kid walked in bleeding. Garcia gets defensive and says, “She’s not some kid, she’s my sister and her name is Y/N” They bring her to the hospital and... (2/3) and Garcia does her magic to get her foster parents arrested and she adopts her. And then the whole team welcomes her and it’s super fluffy ending? Sorry this was so long. Thank you so much❤️ If you don’t want to do this request you can delete it, sorry about that :) (3/3)

Note: Remember how I said there would be no fics tonight because I have school in the morning and didn’t do homework? Well, I lied. Please feel free to send me more requests! To those who already have, just know that I am working on ALL of them. Also, realizing now that I didn’t exactly stick to this prompt regarding the part where Y/N walks in and Garcia sees her, but hopefully it is still okay!!!

Penelope Garcia x Sister!Reader

()()()()()()

It wasn’t so much that Penelope Garcia had kept you a secret, but that you had never come up in conversation. Never once had anyone asked if the tech goddess had siblings. The team never found it their business to question after knowing the water of your parents. She also believed that the less they knew, the safer you were from the criminals that the analyst helped to catch.

Unbeknownst to her, however, this was far from the truth.

You never knew your parents like your sister did. You had just been born, and Penelope was deemed unable to care for you, you had no other family, so you wound up in foster care. You’d gone from house to house, family to family, but no matter where you were, you were always in contact with your elder sister. You were allowed to visit each other regularly, and those visits were the only thing you looked forward to. The only times you felt safe.

You were actually just leaving a visit for lunch with Penelope and walking towards her as you passed by a large building.

“Y/N, I didn’t even realized we walked by, but this is where I work!” the blonde said with a smile.

“Really? The FBI is just out here?” you asked.

“Pretty much.” she replied, and then her eyes grew wide and a gasp escaped her lips, “Oh my goodness, Y/N, you should visit sometime.”

“Finally!” you exclaimed, “I have ALWAYS wanted to visit, but didn’t want to invite myself.” your sister laughed.

“I haven’t really told them about you. I was never really sure how, but it seems like a good enough time now that you’re 16.” As you stepped closer and closer to the car, your mood began to drop, not knowing what pain would face you at home this time. You figured you could tell Penelope, but you’d been in many abusive foster homes, the most they would do is just move you to another one, if anything at all, and you could never ask your sister to take you in as her responsibility. From what she’s said, her job is very stressful, and you figured you would just add to that.

It wasn’t long before you were at your doorstep waving goodbye. Sighing, you turned and creaked open he door that led straight to your living hell. Joseph, your foster father, was on his stingy recliner, bottles of various different alcohols surrounded him. He himself, however, was asleep. You hated him. You could not wait for the day that you were set free from this place, the day you could finally fight him back. The man was a drunk, and a violent one at that. And even then, it’s nowhere near as bad than when he was sober. He knew how to hurt more when he was thinking straight. You tried to tiptoe around him to get to your room, but knocked something over, waking him up. Your heart genuinely stopped. You knew what would happen next.

The greasy man woke, and both of you locked eyes as he slowly sat up.

“Now, what the hell did I tell you about making noise?” he slurred loudly as he approached you, “Huh, brat?”

“I’m sorry, sir, it was an accident, it won’t happen again.” you said nervously. It was then that you both looked down at what had fell, and it was a glass decoration, which had now shattered into pieces. You knew you were in for it in that moment.

And Joseph didn’t hesitate. He hit you across the face, knocking you to the ground with your arm landing on some of the glass. You screamed out in pain, which resulted with more violence from the man standing over you.

“Clean it up!” he screamed, “Right now!” you tried to get up to get the broom, but he shoved you back down.

“With your hands.” he said. You looked up at him, tears in your eyes, when he put his foot on the top of your head, pushing your face down. Small shards cut up your cheek. You began to pick up pieces of the glass, one cutting you every now and then. Joseph kicked or punched every so often when he thought you were not doing a good enough job. By the end, you could barely move. You were bleeding everywhere, Joseph had knocked the wind out of you, hit and punched and kicked in any area he could have. At this point, you really thought you were going to die. And for a split second, you were almost relieved by the thought.

Eventually, Joseph passed out again on his recliner while you laid motionless on the floor nearby. It was then that you decided.  You didn’t care what happened to you next, but you were not coming back to this house.

()()()()()()

How you even made it to the building your sister pointed out to you earlier was beyond you.  It had taken you so long to move your body there that it was late at night now. You moved swiftly through the building, and reading the signs with the departments and their floors, you spotted the BAU. How nobody spotted you was also surprising. This was, after all, an FBI building, and you were a 16 year old girl who could barely stay conscious, bleeding from every pore and bruised at every inch.

The elevator brought you to a set of glass doors. There were desks everywhere, but most were empty. It seemed as though the room at the top of the small set of stairs was having a meeting, though, and you thought maybe Penelope was there. You hoped so badly that she was there. You got blood on the handle opening the door.

A man turned around from a coffee machine at the sound of your entering. He dropped his cup quickly and ran to you.

“Hey, kid? You alright?” he questioned, knowing that you obviously were not. You felt everything slipping away from you in that moment, and the world around you went dark.

‘

()()()()()()

“Guys? Get out here, now!” Morgan yelled as he fell with you to the floor, getting your blood on his shirt and his hands. Your whole team came rushing out of the room where Garcia had been briefing a case.

“What happened?” Hotch asked, practically jumping the stairs.

“I don’t know, this girl just came in and just passed out like this.” Morgan replied. Garcia had been behind Spencer, and when she stepped around him, her whole world was destroyed.

“Morgan!” she screamed, “That’s not some girl, that’s my sister, and her name is Y/N! Oh my god.” she ran to your unconscious body, dropping papers and a remote, and fell to her knees to hold you close. Spencer, even though he knew you had only just fell unconscious, walked over and put two fingers to your neck to check for a pulse, and was quite relieved when he found one.

“Call an ambulance,” Garcia sobbed, “please. Someone please.”

“An ambulance coming here would take too long given the traffic. It doesn’t seem to be fatal, let’s take her in one of the SUVs” Spencer suggested. Garcia nodded.

Morgan picked you up, JJ and Emily helped Garcia to the car, while Spencer drove since he would know the fastest route. Rossi stayed behind. You were asleep in the hospital for hours due to the fact that they kept you under in order to remove all the glass shards hidden throughout your skin. Your eyes and arms and torso were bruised heavily, but thankfully nothing was broken.

You were met with a group of people you’d never seen before when you woke up. Searching around the room you realized you were in a hospital bed, and soon enough remembered what brought you there.

“Huh?” was all you said. Penelope shot up instantly, smiling at you with tears in her eyes.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re awake. What happened to you?” she cried. You blinked for a few seconds.

“Garcia, she just woke up, she might not be able to talk about it, yet.” JJ reminded. It was quiet for a moment, until you spoke again.

“Joseph.” you said. You were waking up a little more now, pain spread through your body slowly and you winced with every move. Trying to sit up, you were quickly, but softly, pushed back down by a man in a black t-shirt.

“No, kid, you need to rest.” he said, “Who’s this Joseph? I just want to have a little chat.”

“My foster father.” you sighed. Everybody’s face in the room dropped, especially Penelope’s upon finding out you weren’t safe at home anymore.

“Y/N. . . “ she sobbed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it.” you shrugged, which send a chilling pain from your shoulder to the ends of your toes, and you groaned.

“Take it easy, kid.”

“Y/N M/N Garcia,” Penelope replied firmly, “You have not ever been, nor will you ever be a bother to me. Especially, ESPECIALLY, if you aren’t in a safe situation. I would do anything for you, Y/N. We’re getting you out of that house. When you’re in a dangerous situation don’t you ever think not to tell someone, Y/N.”

She thought for a moment, “In fact, we’re going to do something I should’ve done a long time ago. I’m going to adopt you. No more foster homes, we’ll be together more often, you’ll be safe.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Yes, really. And we’re throwing Joseph in prison.” you’d never heard anger in Penelope’s voice like you were hearing right now. For a moment, you both cried together. You knew now that you should’ve mentioned it sooner, but that also you weren’t going to have to worry about it anymore. All the pain, it was going to go away. Not mentally, not completely yet, but you were never going to go home and be afraid of what would happen when you stepped through the door. Instead, you would be excited, for every laugh, every smile, every story, every memory that you were going to make with your sister. 

“By the way,” you sniffed, “who are all these people?”

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, “This is my team! That’s Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, JJ, Emily Prentiss, and Derek Morgan.”

“You,” you pointed weakly at Morgan, “you’re the one who calls her ‘Baby Girl.’” the man laughed.

“The one and only.”

“And you,” you pointed at Spencer, “you’re the genius one right? The one that does magic. Tell me a fact.”

“Uh,” he thought for a second, “V616 is the closest back hole to planet Earth. It’s actually 3,000 light years away. Also, black holes warp time and space. If you put a clock in a black hole, but you stood outside of it, it would actually appear to be ticking slower.”

“Of course.” Morgan says, “Of course you would know that.”

“She asked.” the tall man shrugged with a smirk, “I’ve got plenty more of those, too. And yes, magic tricks.”

You turned toward JJ and Emily, “You guys are like, her best friends.”

The two nodded, “Wouldn’t want to be anyone else.” JJ replied. Lastly, you turned to Hotch.

“Boss.”

“Yes.” was all he said in response.

“Why are you all here though?” you asked, “You don’t even know me.”

All of them were quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to say, when Emily spoke up.

“Garcia’s family. So you’re family.” the rest of them seemed to agree. You smiled at your apparently newfound family, “Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

Although you ended up falling asleep from the drugs that they gave you for the pain, the next few days consisted of getting to know Penelope’s team. Spencer spent hours telling you things and doing magic tricks, while Morgan, JJ, and Emily told you stories of your sister while she sat and laughed. Hotch visited a few times here and there to check up and say hello.

You began to realize soon enough that a new chapter was about to begin, one without abuse, without Joseph, and with your sister that you looked up to more than ever, and her team that treated you like their own. In the beginning, you were told you might not have enough evidence on Joseph to get him arrested, which all of you found to be complete bull. You were completely laid up in a hospital because of him, but in the end, your tech genius sister “accidentally” happened across some illegal files embedded in his computer, along with multiple abuse complaints about him that just so happened to get the court to allow you to live with Penelope, and Joseph in prison.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑻𝒓𝒚 𝑻𝒐 𝑷𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, encouraging, justifying, supporting nor romanticizing Yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of yandere behavior, violence and disturbing scenarios are contained in this post. Read at your own discretion and responsibility.

❧𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐

Hongjoong knew what you were up to, he had eyes everywhere, in the form of cameras, which you weren't aware of. He wasn't scared though. He knew you inside and out, so he knew you would never be able to bring yourself to actually go through with it. Having always been a pushover and complacent person, you'd never harm anyone. And he's also made sure to train you well enough to not try any stunts.

That's why while you two were eating dinner, he watched you out of the corner of his eye while he lifted the poisoned drink to his mouth.

"Wait! Hongjoong don't drink that!" You blurted out.

You quickly got up and tried to snatch the glass cup away from him, but he held it away from you.

"Oh? Why not my dear?" He peered down at you .

Shame took over you as you slumped back in your chair, tears forming in your eyes. How were you to explain to him that you just tried to kill him?

Hongjoong leaned down, his arms resting on the table as his eyes pierced into yours.

"I asked a question and I expect you to answer me."

He gripped your chin and forced you to look at him when you kept your gaze down.

"And when I'm talking to you, I want you to look at me....."

Chuckling darkly, he added:

"Don't make me take you to my room for a little more training."

❧𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊

You were so damn tired of it all. You were exhausted mentally, emotionally, physically and psychologically from Seonghwa's manipulation and abuse that stemmed from his possessive and controlling behavior. At any point you were going to snap and either kill him or yourself.

You chose the first option. You thought you were pretty discreet in obtaining and hiding the poison vial. You only succeeded in the first one.

"Y/N what do you have there?"

Seonghwa's voice startled you. You rapidly tried to hide the vial in your hoodie, but being stronger than you, Seonghwa wrestled it out of your hands. When he realized what you were planning to do, his head snapped at you, cold menacing eyes staring at you. You were fucked.

"You ungrateful little bitch!"

You fell to floor, barely avoiding the glass hitting you when Seonghwa threw it to the wall next to you. You cried out in pain when he pulled you up by your hair, shaking you roughly as he began exclaiming:

"You're lucky I even chose to look at your pathetic and low life self. Without me, you'd be nothing! And this is how you fucking repay me?!"

He shoved you against the wall, where you then collapsed from how badly your right side was aching from the pain of colliding with the concrete material.

"You have 10 minutes to clean up this mess." He ordered before leaving the room.

You looked down at the broken shards of glass. Picking one up, you held it close to your wrist..

Maybe you should have picked the 2nd option...

❧𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘

Yunho couldn't understand why you would try to do this. He loved and worshipped you, and he thought that things are going fine for a while. And then he found the poison hidden in your things. He was completely heartbroken, but he couldn't let you know that. Instead, he had to think of a plan. Even if it was drastic.

He let you be all lovey dovey towards him the night you planned everything, feigning he didn't know. He willingly accepted the drink you gave him, knowing fully well it had poison. He saw you looking at him intently and he sent a chill down your spine when he said:

"Don't be so surprised. It'll take longer to have an effect on me......than on you."

He turned his head and looked at your shocked expression.

"Yes Y/N. I put some poison on your drink as well. I knew it all along."

You went pale as his words sinked in. You quickly got up and ran to the bathroom. You began hitting your hitting stomach on the edge of the sink, sticking 2 fingers in your mouth, anything to trigger your gag reflex and hopefully puke out the poison. You began hyperventilating when nothing was working and you realized you might die.

You were about to collapse on the floor but Yunho caught you and whispered:

"You got two choices right now Y/N: we either call an ambulance while there's still time.....

Or we die together. Either way you're not leaving me and I'm not letting you get away."

❧𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐

Yeosang swirled the contents of his drink, eyeing it suspiciously. You could never fool him. He knew the poison better than you did. It was the exact same poison he used to kill off your last lover. Raising an eyebrow he looked at you before saying:

"Baby why don't you take a sip of my drink?"

You dropped your fork and you looked at him with wide eyes. Yeosang smirked when he realized it was indeed you.

"Uh....no thanks." You replied, hoping he wouldn't insist.

"But I'm telling you to."

He got up and slid the drink in front of you.

"So drink it."

Your shaking hand took the glass, spilling some of the liquid from the trembling you had. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

"I can't..... I'm sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing?" Yeosang interrogated you, his voice cool and collected.

You broke down and confessed to everything, how you tried to poison him, even though Yeosang already had it figured out. He made you stand up and held you close as you cried your eyes out. Once he felt you calm down a little, he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears before landing a harsh slap across your cheek, stunning you, but you should have expected it.

Yeosang was even scarier when he was calm, because you never knew what he was going to do.

"Don't ever try that again." Was his only warning before he patted the bright red spot on your face.

It was definitely going to leave a bruise.

❧𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗

You tried and tried to pull out of your restraints, even though you knew you had zero chances of breaking free. San always made sure your bonds were tight and secure.

"Look."

You heard him say but you didn't want to look. You gasped when he clenched your jaw with his hand and forced you to look up.

"I said look!" He growled as he held your face up.

You sobbed even harder when you looked into your friend's terrified eyes. You wished it were you instead, you deserved it, not them. You were the one stupid enough to try and poison San. So why must your lifelong friend suffer the consequences?

"I say give it a few more seconds before the poison starts taking effect. I'm actually curious, what exactly were you planning to happen to me?"

It all started and ended so quickly. The image of your friend's body convulsing on the floor, their blood shot red eyes, their gagged breathing followed by the foaming of the mouth....... until their lifeless body layed on the floor, a trickle of blood pouring out from their mouth.

San cringed, as if he were staring at nothing more than a bug.

"What an awful way to die."

Turning his attention back to you, he added:

"Maybe that'll teach you to not get any ideas in your stupid little head."

❧𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒

You woke up and made your way into the kitchen, fixing yourself some breakfast. It was awfully quiet. You shrugged and put your plate on the table. Looking at the time, you noticed it was an odd hour for your parents not to be up.

"I'm supposed to be the one sleeping in." You joked more to yourself.

You opened the door and went to your parents bed, trying to wake up your mom. Lifting the covers up, you let out a piercing scream when your mom's pale and lifeless face stared back at you, your father in the same condition. Scrambling to get up, you ran to the telephone to call 911, but the line was dead.

"Oh my god!" You cried out as you went back to your room to get your phone.

You opened the door and froze when an all too familiar face greeted you.

"Hi baby cakes." Mingi's deep voice said.

"You?! What are you--- it can't be! You're supposed to be dead!" You exclaimed.

1 year ago, you managed to escape your psychotic boyfriend's clutches, by poisoning him. So why was he here? It had to be a nightmare and you wanted to wake up.

"Supposed to, but I'm not. As you can see, I survived."

When he came near you, you ran away, but Mingi being faster caught up to you really quick. You struggled to get out of his grasp, but he managed to press a cloth on your nose and mouth. In less than 2 minutes, you succumbed to the effects of the gas and fell unconscious on him.

"How cute darling. I missed having you in my arms." He smirked as he picked you up to take you away with him.

❧𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐

Wooyoung sighed as he stepped over your writhing body. Calmly, he dialed a number.

"911, what's your emergency?" The woman asked.

"I need help! My s/o tried to poison themselves!" He cried out, making himself spill out tears in mere seconds, completely fooling the operator.

Once he hung up though, the tears were gone and his usual cold expression was plastered on again. You tried to gasp for air, your eyesight going black, the last thing you saw was Wooyoung's deadly gaze.

He was also the first thing you saw when you woke up in a hospital bed. Wooyoung played the part of a doting and concerned boyfriend really well, all the medical staff never doubting the veracity of his statements. You on the other hand knew it was all a lie. And he showed his true colors to you while you were alone.

"Tsk tsk. Seriously Y/N, if you're going to try and do something as stupid as trying to poison me, do a better job."

He scoffed at you. It wasn't your fault though. How were you supposed to know he switched glasses with you when you turned away for a second?

He walked up to you and loomed over your fragile figure.

"Don't you dare say anything to anyone, got it? And when we get back home, there'll be hell to pay for your little stunt."

As if going through a near death experience wasn't bad enough, now you were wishing Wooyoung had just let you die instead of just scaring the life out of you....almost.

❧𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘

Jongho was furious, livid with you. He couldn't believe what you were planning to do. Not wasting a minute, he stormed into the living room where you currently were. He flung the poison vial on the couch, where you recognized it and knew you were now screwed.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

You couldn't speak, you couldn't even look at him. You were afraid of him.

"You're seriously trying to get rid of me? When all I've ever done is protect you? Take care of you? When all I've ever done is love you?!"

You flinched when he flipped the coffee table with one hand, sending it flying feet away, breaking once it crashed on the floor.

Jongho grabbed you by your arms and started shaking you.

"Get it straight through your head Y/N: no one will care, love or protect you like me! No one but I gives a damn about you! No one is even looking for you! So why are you trying to get rid of me?"

You let out a yelp of pain when he clutched you too harshly, making him stop immediately. Like flipping a switch, he hugged you and caressed your hair.

"You can't go out there in the world again. You just can't. They'll hurt you and I can't have that.....you need me... I'm your protector and you must stay with me..."

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[thegreatestofheck]

breathe again |Derek Morgan|

word count - 5850 warnings - mentions of blood, kidnapping, physical assault, panic attacks, death, ptsd, and it’s unedited pairings - derek morgan x fem!reader (3rd persion)  synopsis - he saved her life and now she has to deal with the aftermath. he’s there to help her every step of the way.  a/n - so i’ve been MIA. college was kicking my booty hind, I was lacking any and all inspiration, and i’ve just been mentally not well. This week was kinda horrible in that my abuser died on sunday, my birthday was on tuesday (not my favorite day of the year), and I spent 16 hours in the car with my family so I am mentally and emotionally exhausted. this fic is mostly for me, just a healing fic revolving around one my my favorite men. if no one reads it, that’s gucci. be on the look out for a reid one too because your girl is sad. thank you all for being so patient with me. and i’m so sorry to everyone i’ve disappointed while i’ve been away. hopefully i’ll have some routledge!readers out soon. 

______

A quiet whimper came from her mouth, but her eyes remained shut. 

When Agent Spencer Reid opened the door, his gun out and cocked, he shouldn’t have been so shocked as he was. He had seen the other girls, how they had been cut up before they were killed, how there wasn’t a place on their body that hadn’t been slashed. But something about seeing the woman strapped to the table, bleeding from almost every inch of her body, made a shiver go up his spine.

At the sound of the door opening, her weary eyes opened. She thought it was him, but she was surprised to see the agent standing there all the same. For a few seconds, she thought she was imagining it. She had been seeing people for days, but she could always blink them away. When she closed her eyes and opened them again, he was still standing there. Maybe the blood loss was finally getting to her. 

She closed her eyes again and turned her head to the side, refusing to get her hopes up again. He wasn’t real, he wasn’t there. 

She was going to die. 

Spencer Reid shook away the shock that held him in place. Stepping into the room, he holstered his gun and walked toward the woman. 

“Morgan,” he said into his walkie talkie. “Morgan, I found her. Back room.” 

“Good job, kid.” 

At the sound of his voice, the woman opened her eyes up again, blinking slowly. He reached her, immediately fiddling with the straps that kept her tied to the bed. 

“Are you real?” She asked, her voice broken and quiet. 

“My name is Spencer Reid,” he said. His voice was kindly and warm, but worried. “I’m going to get you out of here.” 

She nodded her head slowly. She let out a gasp of relief when the first of the straps released her. Spencer ran around to the other side and started to work on the other strap. As soon as her other wrist was freed, she brought both hands up to her chest. Wearing nothing but her undergarments was one thing in front of a deranged serial killer. It was another thing completely in front of a Federal Agent. 

Spencer started to work on the straps on her ankles, but before he could unlatch her, the man who had taken her appeared behind him and smacked him across the head with a pipe. 

The woman felt fear run through her veins, not even able to cry out as the agent crumpled to the side. Now the man stood above her, seething like a rabid dog. 

“You are never getting out of here,” he said. 

He plucked a knife up off of the table beside her. The woman refused to close her eyes. If he was going to kill her, he was going to be haunted by her eyes for the rest of his damned life. He lifted the knife into the air and the woman didn’t flinch. Before he could bring down the knife to kill her, someone ran into him from the side, knocking him off of his feet. 

The woman couldn’t see who it was who tackled him, but at the moment it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting out of the straps. Her hands were shaking, but she did what she could. She could hear the two men fighting, things breaking, grunts of pain. All she could do was get herself unstrapped. 

Once both of her ankles were free, the woman rolled off of the table, landing painfully on the ground. The cuts across her body pulled, blood running down her skin. She crawled over to Agent Reid, who was out cold on the ground. Clutching a pulsing arm to her chest, the woman grabbed hold of Reid’s arm and tried to pull him out of the way of the fight. She lay his head in her lap, placing her blood hands on the sides of his face. 

“Wake up,” she whispered. “Please don’t be dead.” 

The agent let out a quiet groan, letting her know that he was at least alive. Her kidnapper had managed to pin the other agent to the ground, picking up the knife from the ground. 

“No,” the woman breathed. 

She slid herself out from underneath Spencer, wincing against the pain of her stretching cuts. She plucked up the pipe of the ground and swung at his head with every ounce of strength that she had in her body. She heard the crack of his skull and he fell to the side. The agent on the ground breathed heavily, staring up at her. There was a cut on his cheek, but he didn’t seem to care much about it. 

The woman let the pipe fall from her hand, all the strength that adrenaline had given her fading. Her knees gave out underneath her and she started to fall. Luckily, the agent was fast. He sat up and caught her before she hit the ground. Her body began to shake, maybe from the pain, maybe from the cold, maybe from the weakness in her limbs. 

“You’re okay,” he said. “It’s over.” 

“It’s over?” 

“Yeah. You’re safe.” She noted how kind his smile was. “What’s your name?” 

“Y/N.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Derek Morgan and I’m going to keep you safe.” 

Y/N nodded her head as her eyes began to flutter shut. She could hear him call out quietly for Spencer and that was it before she was consumed by unconsciousness. 

****

Y/N sat in her apartment, consumed by the darkness around her. Her hands shook as she wiped away tears that fell from her eyes. It was just one of those days when all she could remember was the face of the man who had carved into her like she was a slab of meat, when she looked at her body, all she could see was the puckered scars that covered her skin. These were the days when she would pick up her phone and call Morgan, though she tried to avoid it. He had given her his number after she left the hospital for a reason, but she knew that his job was taxing, that she couldn’t just pour all of her problems onto him. 

But tonight she just needed to hear his voice, just to have him remind her that she’s okay, that she’s safe and alive and still human. 

She picked up her phone, searching through her contacts through blurry eyes. A few tears dropped from her eyelashes as she held the phone to her ear. It rang only twice before she hung up and threw her phone to the other side of the couch. She was a burden to him, she just knew it. And therapy wasn’t helping, it just made her feel like a helpless victim who was forever going to be stuck where she was. 

She curled her legs up to her chest, tucking her face between her knees. She tried to stop the sobs from shaking through her body, but the more she tried to stop them from coming, the faster and harder they came. 

Her phone started buzzing, making her lift up her head. Y/N wiped away a few tears, crawling across the couch toward her phone. She picked it up, sniffling. Morgan was calling her back. She let out a sigh before pressing the green answer button and putting the phone to her ear. 

“Hi,” she said, clutching a pillow to her chest. 

“Hey, Y/N.” 

“Hi.” 

“How are you doing?” He asked, knowing full well that the answer would be ‘not good’. 

“I’m doing fine,” she lied, gnawing on her fingernail. 

“Y/N, talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to bother you,” she said, her voice going quiet. “You’ve got all your own things to deal with and I-” 

“The team and I are going out to eat. Come with us.” 

���Did you just come back from a case?” She asked. 

This was why she didn’t want to call. He had so much on his plate, who was she to add all of her problems too. 

“We did and now we’re going to celebrate. But I want you to come out with us.” 

“Derek, I….I can’t. It’s time with your friends.” 

“I’ll pick you up in thirty. It’ll be good for you and I promise you, you won’t be bothering anybody. They all want to know how you’re doing anyway.” 

Y/N breathed in deeply through her nose before nodding, even though he couldn’t see. 

“I’ll be ready.” 

“Good. And turn your lights on. The dark will just make you more sad.” 

She smiled. For as little as the two of them spoke since he and Reid saved her life, he seemed to know her better than anyone she had ever known. 

“Will do.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.” 

“See you.” 

She hung up, setting her phone face down on the couch. She stayed where she was for a few moments, giving herself time to breathe. Once her tears had dried, Y/N pushed herself off the couch and made for her room. 

****

“How was your case?” Y/N asked as she and Morgan walked down the street toward the pub. 

“It went better than most,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets to protect them against the cold wind. “Saved a few lives.” 

“That’s good.” She smiled down at her feet.

“How are you doing?” 

She breathed out heavily, her frosty breath billowing out in front of her. 

“I’m good.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Seriously! Today was good. I started teaching the kids their choreography for the spring show and it seems like they like it.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

There was a moment of silence as Morgan waited for her to finish. 

“But,” she carried on, like she knew he wanted her to. “I went on a date earlier today. It didn’t go well. You know how it is.” 

“I know.” He was quiet again for a few moments. “Tell me about your class. How are the kids?” 

“We don’t have to talk about me the whole time,” she told him, her cheeks burning ever so slightly. 

“I want to. Makes me feel better.” 

Y/N smiled and tried to hide her blush in her scarf. But she started talking anyway. Morgan listened, as he always did. He asked a few questions here and there to keep her talking and laughed when she said something funny. As she walked beside him, Y/N realized that maybe having her talk about her normal day wasn’t really to help her, but because it helped him. 

When they made it to the pub, she slowed to a stop. Morgan didn’t realize she stopped for a few paces, but once he noticed her absence, he turned around to look at her. She was looking up at the name of the pub, the lights reflecting in her eyes. He walked back toward her and put a gentle hand against her elbow. 

“Don’t worry about them,” he said. “They’ll love you.” 

She tore her gaze away from the sign and met his dark eyes, feeling her heart pound within her chest. 

“You think so?” 

“I know so.” 

She smiled again, feeling a burst of confidence. She nodded her head and took a step toward the front door. Morgan smiled as he followed in after her. It wasn’t that hard to find Morgan’s team, sitting around a table together and laughing. Fear struck at her again. She hadn’t been out much in the months since she had come back from the trial. She didn’t really hang with very many people before she’d been taken anyway. 

She didn’t have much of a chance to hesitate before Penelope Garcia, the computer whiz who had been the first one to make her laugh after she’d been saved. 

“Y/N!” she cried, lifting her glass of wine into the air. 

The others promptly turned around, calling out in each their own way. 

“Hi,” she said to them as she walked over, Morgan right behind her. 

She could feel one of his arms brush against her shoulder and it gave her enough strength to smile. 

“How are you?” Emily asked as Y/N slid into a chair next to her. 

“Good!” she replied, feeling her grin become something more real. “It’s been a long few weeks, but things are going well.” 

“Your apartment treating you nicely?” Rossi took a sip of red wine from his glass. 

“I love it,” she told him. “I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for helping me pay for it.” 

There was a glint in Rossi’s eye that told her she never had to say thank you again. Morgan slid into the seat next to her, draping his arm over her chair. Him being so close gave her a little bit of strength. 

The night carried on with drinks and food and laughter. Even Aaron Hotchner, who had intimidated Y/N all the way through her trial, was smiling along with the rest of them. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to look at Spencer, for whatever reason. Every time she saw him, all she could see was the bloody hand prints she left on his face that stained his skin for days. Emily and Penelope and JJ made Y/N feel like she had been friends with them for as long as they had been friends with each other. 

Things were going well until she made direct eye contact with Spencer. Her heart jumped up into her throat and she felt suddenly like she couldn’t breathe. She mumbled something about going to the bathroom before shimmying past Morgan and making a break for the restroom. 

She burst into the bathroom already breathing heavily, tears stinging in her eyes. She closed them and saw the blood all over again, felt the tearing of her skin, the sting of the blade. Bile rose in her throat and she gagged, slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting in the sink. Her head swam and her nose stung and her knees felt weak. 

There was a knock at the bathroom door and Y/N looked up, eyes still swimming with tears. She expected it to be one of the girls walking in to check on her, but when she opened her door, she found herself face to face with Spencer Reid. 

“Oh, hey, Spencer,” she said, furiously wiping away the tears with the back of her long sleeve. 

“Y/N,” he replied. “Morgan told me to find you.” 

“Did he?” She asked, her jaw clenched. 

“You wouldn’t look at me and when you did, you ran away. I may not understand a lot of social cues, but I think that means I did something wrong.” 

She shook her head quickly, still not able to meet his eyes. 

“No, you didn’t do anything. It’s just me.” Spencer was silent, as if waiting for her to elaborate. With a heavy sigh, she finally looked up at his face. “It’s my fault you got that concussion, Spencer. He wouldn’t have targeted you if you hadn’t been trying to save me. And I look at you and I see my blood on your face and it just….”

“Post traumatic stress is common in victims of attempted murder, especially in a case so bad as yours,” he said. “Hallucinations, nightmares, trouble breathing, all of that is common signs of PTSD so what you’re experiencing isn’t just you.” 

Y/N let her eyes flutter shut as she clamped down another vicious round of nausea. 

“But that’s not helpful,” Spencer said after clearing his throat. “It’s not your fault, what happened to me or what happened to you.” 

“It just feels like every second that I’m still affected by what he did, he wins. That it proves I’m not strong enough,” she told him.

She wasn’t really sure why she felt like she could talk to him so openly.

“Well, I can’t convince your brain of anything but I can tell you that I’ve saved a lot of people and most of them would have seen that open door and ran. But you stayed. You were bleeding out and you stayed to help me and Morgan. You probably saved both of our lives. That sounds like strength to me.” 

She blinked a few times, taken back by his words. She hadn’t even considered it. When she had gotten out of the restraints, she had seen the open door, but it had never occurred to her to run away. She scowled, glancing down at his feet. 

“I’ll leave you to your, uh, bathroom.” 

With that, Spencer left the doorway, walking back toward the others. Y/N let the bathroom door close, standing in front of the sink to stare at her reflection in the mirror. For so long, she had only seen the weakness in what she had done. She thought about how often she cried, how loud she screamed, how she had begged. She had convinced herself a strong person wouldn’t have done that. A strong person would have fought back, made his life as much hell as he made hers. A strong person wouldn’t have cried on the stand, wouldn’t have panic attacks every time something mildly inconvenient happened. 

But maybe she had been wrong. Maybe her strength had nothing to do with what she did in the moment, but in the surviving afterward. Every second that she breathed free air was a victory, every second that she lived longer than the man who had hurt her was a sign of strength and not weakness, no matter how ugly those seconds were.

Breathing in deeply, Y/N left her place at the sink and abandoned the bathroom to rejoin her friends. Morgan greeted her with a smile as she returned, but the others carried on their conversation as she took her seat. 

She spent the rest of the night smiling. She could look at Spencer and maybe she still saw the blood stains, but she could look past them and see the man underneath, the man who had saved her life. And Morgan kept his arm behind her back, just close enough that she knew that he was there. 

He walked her back to her apartment that night once everyone else had left. 

“You talk to Reid?” 

Y/N could tell that this was a question that Morgan had been waiting to ask since she came back from the bathroom. 

“I did,” she said, watching the sidewalk beneath her feet. 

“And?” 

“And it was good. He’s a good kid.” 

“Yeah, he is.” 

They were quiet again. He could tell by her change in demeanor alone that the short conversation with Spencer had done a lot for her. 

“You want to tell me about that date you went on?” He asked. 

She was startled by his question, not because it was beyond him to ask, but because she had forgotten about the date altogether. 

“Oh, um….” She scowled, trying to recall. “There was nothing wrong with the guy...I actually never met him. I got stuck getting dressed. We were going out to dinner and then we were going to see an opera, so I wanted to look nice, but I couldn’t find a single formal dress that would cover up all of my scars and I cancelled on him. I didn’t want him to see all the ugly, I guess.” 

Morgan let out a sigh, but she knew that it wasn’t a sound of disappointment. She glanced up at him and saw that he was thinking, his jaw tightening and relaxing. He didn’t say anything else as he walked her back to her apartment building, all the way up the stairs and to her front door. 

“Thank you for walking me back,” she said, unlocking her door and dropping the key into her pocket. 

“I think he would have loved to meet you,” Morgan said, looking down at his feet, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. 

“What?” 

“Your date tonight. I think he would have loved to meet you, no matter what you wore.” 

“Derek-” 

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.” 

She froze, her breath stopping in her throat. After spending hours every morning staring at her closet and the mirror, hoping to find something that would cover every single scar on her body, which was impossible. Morgan lifted a hand from his pocket and brushed his thumb over the scar that ran along her jaw, the one she was never able to cover. Y/N’s eyes closed at his touch, the heat from his hand spread warmth throughout her chilled body. He rested his hand against her cheek. 

They both knew that he should have taken his hand back, shoved it back into his pocket, and walked away. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down toward her. Her heart skipped a beat as his lips grazed against hers. She wanted to open her eyes, to make sure that she wasn’t imagining it. But even if the kiss was all in her mind, she didn’t want to know it. 

When he pulled back, Y/N kept her eyes closed for a few seconds, trying to hold on to the barest hint of warmth that he left her with. 

She opened her eyes finally only to see that he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes fixed on the ground again. She thought that he was ashamed of kissing her or maybe she didn’t live up to what he had thought. Still, she wanted to kiss him again, if he would let her. He slid his hand from her cheek and let it fall back to his side.

“Do you...want to come inside?” she asked. 

It wasn’t until he looked at her that she realized why he had refused to meet her gaze. It wasn’t shame or regret, but something deeper, something that he had been trying to fight since he first got to know her. 

She didn’t need to ask him again because his answer was already there in the deepness of his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her again, not as timid as before and with more force. He brought his hands up to her face again, his palms against her jaw. His momentum sent her backward into the door and a quiet gasp came from her. 

She searched for the doorknob with her hand, but her mind was elsewhere. With Morgan’s lips against hers, that was all she could think about. She finally got the doorknob twisted as Morgan pulled the scarf from around her neck. They collapsed into the dark apartment, one of his hands now on her waist and her fist curled around the collar of his shirt. 

With the door shut, Morgan pulled off his coat and discarded it onto the ground. Y/N followed suit. He reached out for her and took her by the waist as if any second apart from her was a second wasted, as if he couldn’t stand not touching her. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck just as desperately. 

Morgan hoisted her upward just as they reached the back wall and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He kept her pinned against the wall so even when he pulled away from the kiss she wouldn’t fall. 

“Is this okay?” He asked her. 

“God, yes,” she breathed, almost embarrassed by how relieved she sounded. 

A smile stretched across Morgan’s face as his hands found the bottom of her shirt, pulling it off over her head. Y/N’s first instinct was to cover herself with her arms, but Morgan pushed himself forward to kiss her again before she could even try. 

His kisses trailed away from her lips, his lips and teeth finding the skin of her jaw. He nipped his way down her neck, finding the soft of her skin that made her squirm. Any thought of all the scars that he could see was gone. All she could think about was his warm hands against her cold skin, his lips against her neck. She helped him remove his shirt, keeping her hands on his shoulders so she could admire the lines of his muscles, the smooth of his skin. 

Morgan moved back, away from the wall, one hand on the small of her back and the other on her thigh to keep her steady. She kept her lips locked with his, his tongue flicking across her bottom lip. Y/N pushed her bedroom door open and it was only a few more steps to her bed. Morgan laid her down gently against the soft blankets. 

She stared up at him, breathing heavily. His eyes were dark and full of desire and she imagined that hers looked no different. 

His hands rested on either side of her, but not touching her. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his voice quiet. She nodded her head, sucking on the inside of her lower lip to keep herself quiet. “I need to hear you say it, baby.” 

“Yes, yes,” she said breathlessly. “Are you?” 

“I’m sure of nothing else.” 

He lifted a hand to hook a finger under her chin, tilting her head back so he could capture her lips again. Almost in sync, the two of them crawled further onto the bed until her head rested against her pillow. He unhooked the button of her pants and Y/N felt her heart rate spike through the roof. She was pretty sure she blacked out the entire time he was taking off her pants. By the time she found herself again, he was kneeling in front of her, just staring.

She had been this exposed in front of him only once before, but under completely different circumstances. He had been holding her in his lap, his voice the only thing that she could cling to as she fought to keep herself alive. Not only that, but she had been covered in blood. Once again, she felt the need to cover herself up again. This time though, Morgan grabbed her wrists and pinned them beside her head. 

“You are beautiful,” he said again, his eyes tracing her body before finding her gaze once again. “All of you.” 

Y/N fought the urge to cry. It wasn’t grief that brought tears to her eyes but the fact that the sincerity behind his words almost made her believe him. 

“Derek.”

She stretched upward to kiss him gently, a single tear sliding out of her eye. 

And once that moment of calm had passed, there wasn’t a second more. She needed no more reassurance and he needed no more affirmation that she knew what she wanted. There was no holding back for either of them. 

By the time that Y/N woke up the next morning, her body ached, but it was the kind of ache that felt good, that reminded her what she had done. Light flitted in through the window as she rolled onto her back, tangled up in her own bedsheets, a smile on her face. 

She breathed in deeply, inhaling the pleasant smell of cooking bacon. She shot upward, looking over to find that her bed was empty aside from herself. Sliding out of the bed, she pulled on the flannel that was by her bed and shuffled out to the main bulk of her apartment, where the living room and kitchen was. 

Her cheeks burned hot at the sight of half of her clothes discarded on the ground leading to her bedroom. She lifted a hand to cover her smile as the memory played through her mind. 

“Morning.” 

Y/N spun toward the kitchen, where Morgan was standing, fully clothed, by the stove. Y/N pulled at the bottom of her shirt, suddenly conscious of how short it was. 

“Hi,” she replied, walking toward him. “Smells good.” 

“I hope you don’t mind me raiding your cupboards,” he told her, opening an arm up for her. She settled in next to him, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. 

“I don’t mind,” she said before breathing in deeply again. “How did you sleep?” 

“For as little sleep as we did get?” Y/N’s cheeks burned again at the thought of it. “Slept good. How about you?” 

“The soundest I have in a long while.” 

Morgan’s phone ran from the counter top. Y/N took the spatula from his hand while he went toward his phone. 

“Agent Morgan,” he said. 

Y/N found herself smiling. She loved the way he said his own name, almost as much as she loved the way he said hers. 

“Got it. I’ll be there soon.” Morgan flipped his phone shut and looked up at Y/N, an apology already forming in his eyebrows. 

“Don’t worry about me,” she told him before he could even say anything. “It’s your job. I’ll be fine.” 

“Thank you for understanding.” 

He walked back toward her to press one final kiss against her forehead. 

“Take some bacon,” she told him, which he obliged to willingly. “Stay safe.” 

Morgan smiled back at her one last time, swiping his jacket off the ground, before disappearing through her front door. 

****

A week later, Y/N was sitting on her couch in the dark, not because she was sad, but because the TV was on and she liked it dark when she watched TV. With a bowl of popcorn in her lap, she watched the figures on the screen move about. She was watching a documentary about a newly found tomb in Egypt. She had never been interested in any kind of documentaries until all of her favorite shows began reminding her about everything she hated about the world. Maybe one day she would be able to watch them again, but for now, she was satisfied with learning. 

A knock came to her door. Y/N’s heart leaped. She hadn’t been expecting anyone and any time anything unexpected happened, she found herself scared all over again. She set her popcorn off to the side and shut off the TV, sitting quietly where she was as she waited from her breathing to find a steady rhythm again. 

Once she could no longer hear her heart pounding in her ears, Y/N stood from the couch, shuffling toward the front door. She was already in her pajamas, an old t-shirt and pair of shorts, so she was really hoping that it was not a delivery guy, even though she hadn’t ordered anything. 

She pulled the door open, allowing for one more deep breath. 

But it wasn’t a delivery guy and it wasn’t a stranger coming to take her again. It was just Derek Morgan. 

She almost smiled at the sight of him, but when she saw the look on his face, her eyebrows knit together instead. 

“Derek-” 

“Can I come in?” 

She nodded her head, pushing the door open even wider. 

“Of course.” 

She reached out and took his hand leading him into her apartment, shutting the door behind him. 

“It’s dark in here,” he said, looking up absently at the lights. 

“I was watching TV,” she assured him. “Come sit with me.” 

He followed her, almost dragging his feet as she led him to her room. She kept the lights off and he didn’t complain. She sat on the edge of the bed and so did he. Never once did she let go of his hand. 

“What happened?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

Almost as soon as she spoke, Morgan fell apart. His face crumpled and tears squeezed out of his eyes. He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes as he tried to control his breathing. Y/N felt her own heart break inside her chest, pressing her forehead against the side of his head. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe here.” 

Morgan turned toward her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and pulling her toward him. She was startled by his sudden motion, but as soon as she recovered, she wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. 

“It’s okay,” she said again. “I’m going to keep you safe.” 

His words had played in her head all throughout her surgeries and trial. Every time she thought she was going to die, every time she wanted to give in, she heard his words, kind words for a stranger he had never met before.

She held him in the dark as he cried, grazing her nails across his back until his sobs began to quiet, until his breathing became steady again. He pulled away from her and she took his hand again. She closed her eyes as he pressed a kiss against her forehead. 

“Will you tell me what happened?” She asked him. 

Morgan sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“A lot of people died today,” he told her, his voice hoarse. “Even the guy who did it. All those lives lost and I….” 

He choked and she saw a tear glint in the barest light of the moon. She put her hand on his cheek and turned his face to look at her. 

“How many lives?” She asked him. 

“What?” 

“How many people died?” 

“Six.” 

“And how many people did you save?” 

Morgan’s eyebrows pinched together. His eyes left hers and she brushed her thumb over his cheekbone. 

“I...I don’t know,” he said finally. 

“I can’t imagine how it must feel thinking you have to carry the lives of all those people on your back. But I can tell you how much it means to those who survive that you do the job you do. You saved lives, Derek Morgan. You did good.” 

Morgan let out a shaky sigh. 

“And you don’t have to carry anything alone anymore,” she continued. “I’m here now and I will help you every step of the way, anyway you need me to.” 

Without saying another word, Morgan leaned forward and pressed a teary kiss to her lips. 

“Can you just hold me?” He asked, his forehead resting against hers. 

“Of course.” 

She lay back against her pillow and he leaned his head against her chest. He draped an arm over her stomach and tucked his hand underneath her back. Y/N let her fingers trail up and down the back of his neck. He shifted a few times before settling, letting the beating of her heart sing him to sleep like a lullaby. 

Even after he fell asleep, Y/N stayed awake, staring up at the ceiling. She was overwhelmed with a feeling that she couldn’t quite explain. It filled her chest, stretched out through her limbs, bounced around her mind. She tried to put a thought to the feeling, but she couldn’t. All she could do was let it consume her. 

And after months of pain and misery and fearing every shadow, Y/N finally felt like she could breathe again. 

[free-pool-trash]

folklore - isaac lahey {3/?}

wooo part 3! thank you for all the love so far <333 grab a snack cuz this is a long one ;) platonic scott and derek x reader in this part too :)

let me know what you think <3

word count: 4.5k

warnings: swearing and lots of it, mentions of blood and i think that’s about it but let me know if there’s something i missed!!

Taglist: @makeusfreefromthisfandom, @cece-lives-here, @chocolate-raspberries, @belsandthings, @dancing-tacos-23, @truly-dionysus, @britty443, @tanyaherondale, @furiouspockettoad,  let me know if you’d like to be added <3

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART FOUR

The steady beating of the heart monitor filled the packed hospital room which held your unconscious body.

Your parents and Derek stood before your bed, shouting at each other in harsh whispers.

"What're you telling me right now, Derek?" Your father seethed through gritted teeth at the werewolf that had previously been teetering around what he was meaning to say.

"I'm saying that she's going to become a wolf. She was bitten by an Alpha, alright? Just like Scott." He explained, staring at your body sympathetically.

"The bite hasn't healed yet, Derek." Your mother chimed in, voice riddled with nerves as she took in the blood seeping through the bandage that was wrapped around your neck.

"It's only been a few hours…" The wolf trailed off, worry present in his voice. To be honest, people getting turned from being bitten was relatively new to Derek, because in his experience… the bite usually didn't take.

 Bodies more often than not rejected the bite, it's what separated the strong from the weak, natures way of keeping the balance. The strong became wolves and the weak died. Derek kept that information to himself, however, you were already a member of his pack- one of the only members left- he refused to believe that a bite from a wolf would be what made you meet your end.

"What if she doesn't take the form of a wolf?" You could pick up on the voices now, they were distant and echoed but you could hear them nonetheless.

"The form you take represents the person you are on the inside." Derek's voice.

"She's not exactly the get-angry-and-rip-a-throat-out-with-her-claws kind of kid." Your mother's voice, still surrounded by echoes but getting closer to you.

"What're you saying?" Derek, you felt anxiety building up in your stomach as the words filled your ears, it didn't belong to you though, no those nerves… they didn't belong to you- they were someone else's.

"I'm saying… what if she doesn't become a wolf… what if she becomes something else." Your heart rate picked up at her explanation, but again, you felt detached from the feeling of anxiety that was eating you up from the inside, the words of "or she could die." Sounding through your head, the words- like the anxiety- they weren't yours. They belonged to Derek.

With a gasp that ripped at your injured throat, you shot up, eyes flying open as you threw yourself into an upright position on the hospital bed, your hand flying up to grip your throat. What the fuck happened?

The words you previously heard were forgotten the second you reentered the land of the living, your chest heaving with slight panic before your eyes met your mother's, who was now at your side, removing your hand from your still unhealed wound and holding it in her own.

"What happened?" You rasped, voice hoarse and cracked, the words leaving your mouth painfully as your throat refused to mend itself.

"Don't you remember anything?" You could only shake your head at your mother's question, less out of giving an answer and more out of undiluted fear. Heart rate increasing while images of the beast with beaming red eyes flashed unrelentingly through your mind.

"A wolf. It was a wolf- but it was- it was-" You tried to explain but lost your voice as the panic set in, your chest felt restricted and the ever present beeping of the heart monitor picked up yet again as tears began to form in your terrified eyes.

Your parents tried to comfort you, only to be guided away by the nurses and doctors who had rushed in to your aid.

"Breathe with me sweetheart," Warm brown eyes stared into yours and you recognized Melissa right away, following her actions as she took deep breaths in and out, successfully calming your breathing. "Great job. You must really love this place, coming in on your day off." The older woman teased you softly, bringing a small smile to your face.

"Just can't stay away." You responded tiredly, causing her to smile and push your hair away from your forehead.

"Well you're in good hands because I'm going to be taking care of you." She told you with a wink, she then turned to your parents, Derek seemed to have slipped out of the room during the commotion, and smiled sympathetically, "We're going to change her bandages and then, if she's feeling up to it," She paused for a moment, glancing at you with a smile before finishing, "She can reassure the boy band out there that she's all good so they'll go home." Melissa finished with a laugh, motioning to the waiting room which you couldn't see.

"Isaac is here." Your father spoke softly, hoping to cheer you up as he peeked out the window, Melissa chiming in too, "And Scott. And Stiles. Jackson stopped by earlier too." You couldn't help how your eyes widened, you didn't even realize you knew that many people, let alone well enough for them to want to come check on you. Isaac was the only person in the line up that made any real sense.

Swallowing thickly, wincing slightly due to the sting you looked at Melissa hopefully, "Can I see them?"

The nurse nodded, "After I change this." She wasted no time in gently pulling the bandage from your skin, murmuring an apology when you winced.

*

Isaac, Scott and Stiles sat awkwardly beside each other in the waiting room of the hospital. The area was quiet and absolutely drenched in tension. 

Scott and Stiles were in the midst of a heated, but quiet, argument about something that Isaac couldn't discern, Scott's leg bounced nervously and he periodically glanced towards your room. The tallest of the boys picked up on Stiles' harsh whisper of, "Dude, relax okay? She's probably fine."

Isaac cleared his throat slightly, looking toward the other two boys who looked at him with surprised expressions as if they'd forgotten he was there, which to be fair they had.

"Um, I didn't realize you were friends with (Y/n)." Isaac spoke with a raised eyebrow, the question came out quietly, and Scott gave him a nervous nod, "Uh, I mean yeah- we haven't been friends for long but um she's cool."

Isaac wrung his fingers together, muttering, "Yeah she is." 

He couldn't lie, he felt a little twinge of jealousy towards Scott- feeling slightly threatened by the boy he'd only ever seen in the hallways and although Stiles sat beside him too, he sensed that coming to visit you was all Scott's idea, Scott he was threatened by, Stiles not so much.

"What's your deal anyway?" Stiles piped up, causing Isaac to chew on his bottom lip nervously wanting nothing more than to shrink into himself or melt into the floor, it wasn’t often that he didn’t have you for reassurance and to be perfectly honest he hated not having you beside him with your hand always mere centimetres away and ready for him to slip his own into.

"What do you mean?" Stiles rolled his eyes, "I mean with (Y/n), what's your deal with (Y/n)?"

Clearing his throat again, Isaac was at a loss for words, what exactly was his deal with you? You were his best friend but he was also harboring feelings for you. Looking at Stiles anxiously he simply shrugged his shoulders, "She's my best friend."

"Like watch movies together kinda best friend or you secretly want to marry her kinda best friend?" The sarcastic boy inquired curiously, receiving an elbow to the ribs from Scott who shot Isaac an apologetic smile, "Ignore him. I do."

Blood rushed towards Isaac's cheeks and he returned his gaze to where it had been on the floor, he knew the answer to Stiles' question but that didn't mean he was ready to be confronted with it, especially not so late at night when the girl in question was severely injured in a hospital room and he didn't even know if she was going to be okay.

*

"Jesus…" Melissa whispered, disinfecting the wound for the fourth time since you'd been emitted, "We're gonna need to give you some heavy medication because this thing is definitely infected." At her words your parents exchanged nervous glances, Derek was going to get an earful when they get ahold of him.

"Okay, all done. Which one of the Backstreet Boys should I send in first?" Melissa asked with an amused smirk, her comment receiving a snort from your father.

"Isaac please." You requested quietly, despite the fact that you'd just been mauled by a thing of nightmares you still felt bad about missing movie night with your best bud.

It only took a second for Isaac to be speeding into the room, eyes wide and bloodshot- he'd been crying.

"Thank God you're okay." He exclaimed, practically throwing his arms around you, careful of your injuries his arms pulled you against his chest and held your body against him.

His heartbeat was loud in your ears, not the same way as it usually was, it was like a drum banging right against your eardrums, it hurt but you didn't push the boy away, choosing to focus on the comfort he brought you instead of the pain.

"I'm okay." You assured softly, hand automatically moving to thread through his hair when you noticed his expression, or felt his expression more like. Pure anxiety, mixed with pure fear with an overwhelming feeling of relief. 

He nodded, eyes never leaving yours, "I was really worried." He still was, you could feel it weighing on your chest.

Without saying a word you simply pulled him back into you, noticing everyone else had left the room, you placed your lips on his cheeks with the intent of easing his worry, which seemed to work as the worry you previously felt crushing your chest dissipated completely.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you…" Isaac trailed off, holding your hand against his chest, the beating of his racing heart vibrating against your palm in a way it never had before, it's sound still just as loud as it had been a few seconds prior. 

Rushing filled your ears, like water flowing viciously down a river but it wasn't water. You knew what it was. It was blood- Isaac's blood. You could hear it pulsing through his veins rapidly, your hand right on the source and for whatever reason your mouth watered with a hunger you'd never felt before in your entire existence.

"(Y/n)!" Isaac calling your name broke you out of your trance. Shaking your head rapidly you squeezed his hand, "Sorry, I guess I'm just a little shaken up. I'm still here though so stop worrying, alright bub?" You told him, not quite sure if you believed a word of what you were telling him. Physically you were there with him but in every other sense you felt distant, numb almost.

"Are you sure? Is there anything I can do?" He asked sweetly, knowing that you were unsure, he hadn't seen you so shook up in, well, ever. 

Shaking your head, you merely managed a small smile as your head had begun to pound from the banging noises of not only Isaac's heart but now the bustle of the hospital going on outside of your room, you couldn't explain it but you could hear everything all at once. 

Every cough, every piece of equipment hitting every metal table, every piece of gossip being exchanged between the nurses, every wail of the newborns all the way over at the other side of the hospital. You could hear it all and it hurt. At first you hadn't noticed it so much but as the seconds past, you squeezed your best friend's hand as it became more and more overwhelming.

Shaking your head you looked at him with teary eyes, everything getting too loud, "Could you go find Melissa or-" you stopped, squeezing your eyes shut as every sound meshed together, ringing unbearably in your ears like a microphone pointed towards a speaker, "-or anyone. My head hurts really bad." 

Immediately Isaac was on his feet, leaving the room in a rush to find someone as you covered your ears, head splitting. You groaned painfully, tears flooding your cheeks as you tried to block out the noises only for them to grow louder and multiply almost to spite your efforts.

While focusing on blocking everything out, you heard a voice- a distinct voice. It was meant for you, you could feel it in your bones, the bite in your neck stinging viciously as you listened intently, searching for anything within the voice that would make it all just stop.

"You can hear me can't you. Yes you can. I'd hoped you'd take to the bite, it seems you have, maybe not how I originally intended but this will do. It's going to be hard but you can overcome this. Don't let it kill you."

The voice was assertive. Male. Familiar. The way he spoke reminded you of Peter, but it couldn't have been him, he hadn't spoken in years.

Then as soon as, whoever it was, stopped talking, it all flooded back in and you couldn't stop the agonizing scream that left your lips while you clutched your ears even tighter. You needed to get out.

In your panic you hadn't realized you'd rolled to the floor, wanting to move but not being able to so much as reopen your eyes after you'd made contact with the cold floor of the hospital room. Sobbing erratically while your ears began to burn, the feeling of liquid running down your face being  the only thing keeping you grounded while you shook and cried.

Long arms wrapped around your middle, holding you tightly against a chest that you couldn't see from your position, "(Y/n)?!" Isaac's panicked voice sent you even further into your spiral, only one word and yet you could hear every inflection of pain and hurt and confusion within his call of your name, and once again you could feel it. 

Your teary eyes met his frantic blue ones and you found yourself clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt with more strength than he'd ever known you to have, "Isacc. It's so loud! I want it to stop, god please do something, make it stop!" You sobbed against his chest causing him to look around with pure panic, pleading for someone, anyone to come and help you. Just then Melissa ran in, along with your parents and several doctors.

The last thing you heard before your eyes rolled to the back of your head was the stern voice of Melissa shouting, "Get her back on the bed. Now."

Don't let it kill you.

*

Opening your eyes felt like a chore, why were they so heavy? Once you finally managed to lift them open you slowly took in your new surroundings, no longer in the room you'd woken up in the first time. 

From what you could tell you were still in the hospital, just a different, darker room- a room without windows.

"You're finally awake." A voice sounded from beside your bed and you turned your gaze to meet Derek's.

"How's your head?" He asked, sitting forwards in his seat.

You offered him a small shrug, "Better. It's quiet." You heard nothing but your own heartbeat and Derek's.

Derek nodded, motioning around the room you were in, "sensory room." He explained, "sound proof."

Nodding in understanding you looked down at your neck peeking underneath your bandages, noticing the bite that was scabbing up, it looked absolutely vile. Scrunching up your face in disgust you turned back to Derek, "What the hell is happening to me?"

The older man let out a deep sigh at your question, raising an eyebrow before taking your hand, "You sure you want to hear it." 

"Hit me with it, wolf man." You told him through an exasperated sigh.

He rolled his eyes at the nickname before looking you dead in this eyes, "I thought when I saw your bite that what happened to Scott would happen to you… but it didn't." Your brows furrowed, "So I'm not a wolf?"

Derek shook his head, "No. But you're something else." Tilting your head to the side you nodded for him to continue before you imploded or the suspense killed you.

"Come on, tell me! If I'm not a wolf then what the fuck am I?" You insisted he give you an answer through gritted teeth, growing more impatient by the second.

Letting out another sigh, Derek looked at you through his lashes, "You're a vampire."

You scoffed, eyes rolling to the ceiling, "Derek be serious okay? I've watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I think I would know if I was a vampire-" "Hear me out-" "First of all, I'm not dead, vampires are dead. Second of all, vampires don't feel other people's emotions, I do, so explain that."

"You done?" Derek asked annoyance clear in his tone only for you to shrug nonchalantly.

"According to your parents you're in kind of a transition period. Nothing will be set in stone until you have your first feed." He explained, only for you to shake your head in denial.

"Thank you for clarifying nothing." You muttered, childishly.

"Alright fine. You're not dead because as I said right now you're in the transition period, however, if you don't feed you will be dead." 

"So you want me to drink blood?" You asked, although it was more of a statement.

Derek nodded, "Afraid so, kid."

"Where are my fangs?" You questioned. All vampires have fangs, your teeth felt the same as they always did.

"If I have to say the words transition period one more time, kid I swear-" Derek was cut off by yet another question falling from your lips, "Okay, so where do I stand with daylight?" 

"Look at your arms." Derek informed and you obliged, holding your arms up for inspection, they were covered in burns.

"Alright." You muttered in exhaustion. Allowing your arms to flop back down to your sides, "Ok next question." 

Derek felt his patience wearing thin, he loved you like a sister but you also annoyed him like one. When he didn't answer you asked your most pressing question.

"Why aren't I healing?" Derek let out a loud groan, letting go of your hand to rub it down his face. 

"What did I just say? Literally what did I just say?" The man grumbled and you rolled your eyes, "Transition period." You said mocking him, making a face and sticking your tongue out.

"You know, D. You're pretty cranky considering I'm the one whose just been pledged non-consensually to a life of darkness and blood sucking. With absolutely no explanation." You chastised with a playful smirk, noticing the smile the sour wolf was trying to contain.

*

It was after dark when you were finally discharged from the hospital, you'd spent about a week in that windowless room and you were just glad to feel the cold nights air against your skin after being cooped up for so long.

"Where are you taking me, Wolfie?" You asked, voice filled with uncertainty as you glanced at your newest friend and fellow creature of the night, Scott.

The boy only gave you a gentle smile, leading you towards the pet clinic and holding the door open for you to enter, "Oh god we're not getting you neutered are we?" You jested, trying to still your nerves.

"Afraid not." Another voice rang out, Deaton made his way into view and you gave him a small smile.

Deaton led you towards his practice, you sat up on the metal table, swinging your legs and waiting for some kind of explanation as to why Scott had brought you here.

"I assume by the look on your face that Scott failed to mention why you're here." Deaton spoke as if he heard your thoughts.

"Hey all you said was get her here!" Scott defended himself, hands raised slightly.

"Oh and you got here alright. Not suspicious or anything." You poked teasingly at his arm causing him to laugh. You wondered why you never talked to Scott before all the craziness happened because the two of you had been getting along incredibly in the past few days. He was one of the few people your parents allowed visit you in your windowless hospital room, claiming that since he was a wolf he was at a low risk of triggering your new vampire tendencies.

Deaton smiled, grabbing a small box from the counter then coming back to you, offering you the box, "Go on. It's for you." The older man encouraged when he noticed your hesitancy.

In the box there was a ring, it was pretty, silver with a small purple amethyst settled neatly in the center of the band, it was gorgeous to say the least. "It's a daylight ring. It'll allow you to walk the day as you please without getting burned." The vet, or … well you weren't sure what he was, explained kindly. "Put it on."

Happily you slipped the ring onto your left ring finger and admired it for a minute before turning your attention back to Deaton when he spoke again, "You have Scott to thank for that." He told you and your smile grew as you turned your head to Scott, "Thank you."

"Have you fed yet?" Deaton wondered and you shook your head in response. It'd been almost a week since Derek badly broke the news to you and yet you couldn't bring yourself to feed on human blood despite being absolutely starving.

In understanding, Deaton nodded, "You'll want to be thinking about doing it soon. Have you been having any urges?" Quickly your eyes widened when you realized when the hunger had started.

"After I woke up... Isaac came to see me and he was holding my hand to his chest, his heartbeat sounded so loud and I could hear the blood being pumped and then suddenly I had the most blinding hunger." You explained, looking at Deaton expectantly for answers.

"Has it happened like that with anyone else?" You shook your head as it'd only been so intense when looking at Isaac, who you hadn't seen since that night, your parents not wanting to risk you hurting the boy, when you focused on him that night in the hospital it was as if he was all you could see, all you could feel and his blood rushing and heart beating was all you could hear. But you hadn't wanted to hurt him, he made you hungry but you didn't feel the need or want to rip his throat out with your teeth as you assumed you should have.

 "I don't want to hurt anyone, though. I'm just hungry." You added on, unsure of whether or not being docile was normal for a baby vampire.

Deaton chuckled lightly placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "Vampires are different than wolves, more refined. They're fueled on empathy as opposed to anger. Media has painted them in somewhat of a bad light when in reality they're quite gentle creatures. They mostly only feed on the willing." He explained and you listened intently as he continued.

"The hunger isn't hard to control as you've probably already noticed. It's the heightened emotions that are hardest to control- along with learning to separate your own feelings from the feelings of others around you." 

Emotions weren't something you were good at controlling at the best of times, the possibility of you becoming overwhelmed very soon after fully transitioning seemed more than likely as you already had one meltdown under your belt.

"Then there's the matter of enhanced hearing. Scott tells me you've found that aspect quite difficult, but not to worry, it'll subside once you complete the transition and you'll be able to control what you can and can't hear."

"Thank God." You muttered through a sigh, shuddering at the memory of the migraine the ability had brought you.

Deaton went on to explain the other abilities that would develop after you completed your transition. These abilities included an extremely enhanced sense of empathy, meaning your own emotions were heightened as well as now being able to feel and change the emotions of others. Enhanced hearing, obviously. An enhanced sense of smell, inhuman strength and speed and once you’d finally fed on a willing participant your fangs would begin to grow in. Deaton warned you that that part would be “excruciatingly painful.”

After a while you parted with Scott and Deaton, enjoying the nighttime air as you walked yourself home, once you reached your house you made your way inside quickly, impatient to fill your patents in on what you’d learned from Deaton seeing as their supernatural knowledge focused more on traditional shapeshifters and Celtic lore.

Once you entered the kitchen you spotted your mother chatting quietly with Isaac. You couldn’t lie, you were really happy to see him. Last time you’d seen him you were screaming and passing out in his arms.

“Isaac.” You greeted with a smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while standing behind the chair he was sitting on since the back of the chair faced the kitchen door which you had just entered through, you rested your cheek against his soft curls when you felt his arms coming up to hug yours with a feeling of relief rushing over him as soon as you touched him.

“Hey (N/n).” The boy responded, holding back a sigh as he felt you remove your arms from him opting to take a seat beside him, he watched as you eyed your mother suspiciously before asking, “What’re you too chatting about?”

Isaac spoke up, “I got your text saying that you were discharged and came to see you, your mom was just telling me how you were out with Scott.” It didn’t hit your ear but the bitterness and mild jealousy hit your chest, causing you to frown momentarily before you painted a smile on your face, “Oh yeah he just brought me to talk to Dr Deaton to see if he could identify what kind of animal attacked me.” You lied easily, not wanting to disclose why you were really with Scott knowing that after not seeing you for a week that now definitely wasn’t the best time to let him know that you and Scott were helping each other.

Accepting your excuse you felt relief seeping from him yet again. You wondered if he’d always been this possessive over you, you didn’t mind it really you just hoped he’d be able to get passed it considering you’ll be spending a lot more time with Scott and even Stiles for the foreseeable future.

You had no clue what you were going to tell him though. How do you tell your best friend that they’ve been turned into a vampire and now want nothing more than to taste his blood on your tongue? As soon as you locked eyes on him your hunger returned, as blinding as it had been the first time. Your only wish was that the unique hunger you had for Isaac would ease once you completed your transition. Accidentally hurting him was absolutely out of the question. You wouldn’t let yourself harm even a hair on his head, the way he made your mouth water filled you with dread but you had to try your best to keep him out of the shitshow you found yourself in.

He’d been through enough, he didn’t need vampires and werewolves on top of the rest of his issues. So you made a decision then and there while you stared at his soft smile as he talked with your mother; for the first time in your six years of friendship, you were going to keep a secret from him.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Before You Go (All Might x Reader)

Part One/Part Two

A/N: okay, so this is gonna be pretty sad all around. Ultimately, Young!All Might x reader, but with Aizawa Shota undertones. Aizawa was giving me some mad professor snape vibes in this, and I sincerely apologize for that. I love him too but this isnt his story.

word count:4000

“Y/N, you seriously need to sign up with that energy quirk hero’s agency...shit what’s his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue,” Yamada remarked, tapping his chin as if that might help him remember. He sat at the lunch table with the rest of his friends, Shota and Oboro. Y/N was right beside him, but it seemed his words, despite being loud as usual, went through one ear and out the other. 

“Don’t bother. She’s a lost cause.” Aizawa replied tiredly. 

They all followed her gaze, only for their eyes to land on Toshinori Yagi. The blond walked by, carrying his food to his lunch table with his friends, people Y/N didn’t know, nor could she ever even hope to know. To be honest, Y/N was kinda sorta a loser. She was lucky that she even had friends considering she was awkward beyond belief.

“He’s too full of himself to notice you, Y/N. I’d just give up on that one,” the dark haired boy added, bumping his shoulder with the girl’s. She frowned, shaking her head to get back to reality. Aizawa was right. Not even once had the blond glanced at her or said hello. He was too cool for her. He was going to be one of the best heroes to ever exist and she was just average at best. None of her teachers ever saw potential in her, just saying that her strength was great, just that the side effects of her quirk were far too destructive.

She took a hefty scoop of rice and shoved it into her mouth, chewing grumpily. 

“Come on, Y/N! It’s alright. You could just date me or Yamada!” Oboro laughed, clapping a hand on her shoulder from where he sat across from the girl. 

“You don’t have to ruin my fantasies, Aizawa-kun. I know I don’t have a chance, but it’s nice to think about,” she snapped, sending a sideways glance at her friend who shrugged. He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter if Y/N obsessed over that muscle-head, but it bothered him. She was their friend: she should pay attention to them, no ogle over some narcissist. “He’s going to be the greatest hero this world has ever seen, I just know it. There’s something special about him, his quirk-”

“We get it. Toshinori this, Toshinori that. You know, if you like him so much, why don’t you go talk to him?” Yamada suggested. He wasn’t upset with her talking on and on about her crush, but he just knew Aizawa was about to burst with a couple more remarks. When she didn’t make an effort to move, he smiled knowingly. “You’re such a scaredy cat, Y/N. What’s he gonna do, bite you? If he’s a nice guy, it wouldn’t be a problem-”

“If it’s so easy, Yamada, why don’t you go find Nemuri and tell her how you feel?”

That shut him up very fast, as expected. Their cloud quirk friend broke through the tension swiftly, “Well, instead of talking about stupid crushes, why don’t we talk about our plans for this weekend? Karaoke and Barbeque, dudes! It’s gonna be awesome.”

“Oh my God, I totally forgot about that!” Y/N exclaimed, shoving more rice in her mouth so it bulged in her cheek like a squirrel. She probably should take smaller bites, but it was more fun to see how many grains she could fit in her mouth at one time. “Hizashi, I swear if you eat all the spicy pork again...”

“That only happened once-”

“Twice, actually!” she corrected, poking him on the forehead with the end of her chopstick. They laughed and all was well again, if not for her lowering self-esteem. If only Aizawa believed in her. He was her best friend, the only one who’d been there since the beginning. If he pushed her to talk to Toshinori maybe she would have the courage to actually do it. 

But that wasn’t important. She had friends who actually enjoyed her company, and that’s what mattered.

The weekend was two days away, and a lot could happen in those 48 hours, she found. 

_____________________________________

“Fucking useless. So weak,” Y/N cursed, staring down at her burning hands. Blisters had yet to form, but she could feel the pain of her training. She could accumulate heat from her surroundings and expel that from any part of her body. Yet, it seemed that there were more downsides than perks with this quirk she inherited from her parents. Firstly, she could not consciously choose to concentrate the heat in any one area. Usually, it did come from her hands, but often she would find other parts of her body scalding to the touch when she was using her power. Secondly, using her power at high heat would leave her with terrible burns. 

Thankfully, her mother gave her bits of a regeneration quirk, meaning the burns only lasted for a couple days, most of the time less than that. Hopefully, with time, she could control the quirk so the damage wouldn’t be so bad.

She hated her quirk. It sucked. She couldn’t do anything much with it or else she would hurt herself and have to stop. Once she was burned so badly that the hospital almost had to amputate one of her limbs just from that. 

Sadly, she fell to her knees on the sandy training grounds, just staring down at her hands hopelessly. How could she ever become a pro hero like this? She’d never be able to compete with the other UA students, especially people like Toshinori or Todoroki or even Aizawa. 

“Shit,” she shouted angrily, shutting her eyes and slamming her hands against the sand. Her hands lit up a bright red for a quick moment as heat ran through them into the ground. Sand blew up all around her face and rocks were sent flying in all directions. As the dust cleared, she could see a small crater in the ground where she channeled her energy, it wasn’t huge, maybe enough for a person to lay in, but not much bigger. 

Her hands stung terribly, and blisters started to bubble up on her skin. She was so full of adrenaline and hate for herself that the pain hadn’t entered her mind. She was just so fucking angry. She would never be good enough. Why even go to UA if she was just gonna get a job outside of the quirk realm? If anything, she’d probably get left behind to be a civilian while everyone she knew got rich and famous from quirk work.

“Hey, are you okay?” a familiar voice asked from somewhere behind her. She turned her head, tears stuck in the corners of her eyes as she drifted out of her reality into the real world. If it didn’t sting so badly, maybe she would have been more excited to see Toshinori Yagi walking in her direction. She hissed, turning back around and shaking her hands to get some cool air on them. 

He jogged to her side, kneeling beside her. His eyes widened at the sight of her hands, but also at the hole she left in the ground. “That looks really, really bad. We should get you to Recovery Girl-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He looked up to her face, his brows raised in surprise. Why would she deny going to the infirmary for an injury like this? She had to be insane, he thought. “What? Why?”

“It’ll heal soon.”

“Do you have a regeneration quirk?” he asked, but as he did so, he gently took her hands in his, which were in comparison, freezing cold. He felt like he was touching fire, but he knew his body was strong enough to handle a little heat. Her skin was already blood red, but him touching her so delicately left her feeling faint. The school’s star pupil was holding her hands. She couldn’t believe it. Even through the pain, she felt bashful.

She nodded. “Yeah, but it will take a day or two.”

“Well then, we’re going now.” He didn’t even wait for her to say anything in reply before picking her up in his arms, one behind her shoulders and the other under her knees. In shock, she could only lay there limp, her burnt hands face up in her lap. “How’d you do that anyway? You have a heat quirk, right?”

“Yeah. I just put too much energy into my hands. I have to use my quirk in moderation,” she explained. “Also, I can walk. It’s fine, you don’t need to-”

“No! You need to save as much of your strength so you can heal your wounds. Recovery Girl can’t heal you completely, I’m sure.” 

“Okay. Thank you.”

He walked inside the school building and started talking again. She didn’t know for sure why he was giving her so much of his time and effort. She could have taken herself to the nurse or easily gone home. It was after class. He might have been coming out to train himself, actually. Either way, he was being extremely kind.

“I’m Toshinori Yagi. I’ve seen you around school before, you always hang with the boy with that erasing quirk.”

“Yep. He’s one of my best friends.”

“If I remember right, you’re L/N Y/N? Heat manipulation quirk? You were 4th in this year’s sport’s festival,” he smiled down at her, and she felt herself light on fire once again. How did he remember her? She was such a background character, and even if she did mildly well, her quirk and face weren’t much to remember. “You were super impressive out there, I was surprised. You seem so shy, but really you’re a powerhouse.”

“Not really. I have to hurt myself to do anything good.”

“If you could learn to control your quirk, imagine what you could do with your power?! You made that giant hole in the ground out there in a matter of seconds.” That made her feel good. People normally brought her down, telling her that she would just have to deal with it, that it was a condition of her power. For some reason, this boy believed in her. It made a bit of a smile come to her lips. 

His grin felt contagious, and it only grew brighter seeing her lips curl up. 

“I guess so.”

“You should let me help you out. I know a lot about control from my own quirk. We’d be a good pair, I think.”

That was when her heart officially stopped beating. He wanted to spend even more time together? He wanted to take time out his day to help her improve? She began to rethink what her friends said about the boy. He didn’t seem full of himself at all. He was generous and kind from the looks of it. 

And to think she had a crush on him before. Now she felt her heart swelling up in her chest so much it might explode.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course.”

That’s how Y/N met the famous All Might, and the moment she started her downward spiral in love with him.

_________________________________

Y/N sat at the lunch table once again with her normal squad of friends, Aizawa to her right as usual. She had one of her books sitting out on the table, a textbook Toshinori gave to her. He said that his own mentor had given that to him to help learn control and moderation of his quirk. She studied it religiously, and surprisingly, it was beginning to work. She had less and less incidents where she had to go to the infirmary or have to extensively heal herself. The training still hurt like hell, but it was less serious.

“Y/N, you’ve been studying a lot lately. Something up?”

“Just trying to get over my weaknesses. Figured I wasn’t working hard enough.” 

Just as Aizawa was about to say something else, a loud, excitable voice yelled from a few meters away. “Y/N!”

It was The Toshinori Yagi, the best student at UA. To think two weeks ago, they were telling her he would never know her name. Turns out he already knew, and apparently they were friendly with each other. Oboro’s eyes widened and he elbowed Hizashi beside him, who was jamming on his headphones. Aizawa’s eyes only narrowed. 

Her eyes lit up at the sight of the blond boy. He walked over to her seat and leaned his hip on the table, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You’re really studying that book I gave you, huh? Even at lunch?”

“Of course! I have to do all I can before training.”

“You’ll be fine. You’ve been improving like crazy these past few weeks.”

These past few weeks? Just how long had they been talking?

He smiled kindly at her, and she blushed, hiding her face toward the table. It was weird for the boys to see their little Y/N talking with a boy other than them. And while two of them were ecstatic she seemed to have bagged the hottest boy in the school, one was particularly stormy about it.

“Well, I just stopped by to tell you, you look really beautiful today! You’ve been practically glowing with confidence lately; it’s a really good look on you.”

“O-Oh, thanks, Toshi-kun.”

“I just call it like I see it, Y/N,” he winked, and that sent her heart into overdrive. “Well, I’ve got to go eat, but I’ll meet you outside class later?”

“Yep.”

He left for his table with his super cool friends, leaving her sitting there a flustered, awkward mess. She shoved some rice into her mouth and chewed, trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Sooo, you gonna explain what that was?!” Yamada cried out, clutching at his chest. “Your vibes were too intense, I almost couldn’t handle it.”

She waved the boy off with her hand, trying to downplay it all. ‘It’s really nothing. He’s just helping me train. He has a really good handle on damage control, since we both have stockpile type quirks. I’ve actually gotten somewhat better since then.”

“Seemed like more than that, L/N-chan,”

“I’m telling you, he's just a really, really friendly guy. That compliment was just a friendly one.”

Aizawa sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re so dumb, Y/N. He seems like he’s playing with you.” He said it so matter-of-factly, and she glared at him. 

“I’ll have you know he’s been helping me a lot with my training but also my healing. He’s very kind and always helps me with anything. He’s never once shown signs he’s not genuine.”

“That’s what a narcissist does to get you comfortable with them, stupid.”

“Can’t you just believe that my crush actually wants to be friends with me and help me? That he’s not just some malicious monster?” When he rolled his eyes, she stood up abruptly, grabbing her book and shoving it into her bag. He sat up quickly and went to grab her wrist, but she moved out of the way swiftly. 

“Aw, come on, L/N. Dudette-” Yamada whined, but he knew that Aizawa’s jealousy was getting to the tipping point for the girl. Years went by of him just pushing her away from other guys who liked her and were genuinely kind. Whatever Toshinori was doing with her seemed to give her enough strength to reject the boy’s malice words.

A little bit of him was even proud, the loudmouth admitted to himself. 

 She kept her head held high, eyes glaring down at the long-haired scruffy boy. He’d never seen her like this: standing up for herself. If she were angry at anyone else, he would be cheering her on, but now he just felt furious. How could she be angry with him? He’d been there since they were children and she just leaves because of some blond himbo. 

Her words cut clear in the bustling lunchroom. “I don’t need any negativity right now, Aizawa. If all you want to do is bring me down, then so be it.” After slinging her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her tray, she waved and walked away. As they watched her, she approached the table of her new friend, who greeted her happily. She sat next to Toshinori with a smile on her face, one that Aizawa hadn’t seen directed at him in weeks. 

Maybe he was wrong to be bitter, but he just couldn’t believe there wasn’t some conspiracy to all this. How is it that the coolest guy in school goes for Y/N? He thought she was amazing, he had for years, but no one else ever thought that. 

Whatever, it didn’t matter anyway. She could do whatever she wanted, and if she got her feelings hurt, so be it.

_________________________________

The pair sat outside the school as always. She munched on an icecream bar from the cafeteria while he leaned back, arm across her shoulders and his eyes drawn to the sky, fading from dimmed orange into deep violet. He had guilt hanging over his head the past few weeks, and it was finally time for him to explain himself. 

“I can’t believe we’re done. School went by too quick.”

“I think it goes by faster when you’re fighting evil a couple days a week.”

She nodded, humming in agreement. Her senior year was full of battles, emotional and physical. She was broken to bits when her friend Oboro died or when Toshinori was left to mourn his mentor and they only had each other. Being a hero comes with a cost, but no one expects to be 17 and watch the people they love die all around them. It’s worse when you’re strong enough that you know you could have saved them but you just didn’t. “It was worse than I imagined. I know we’re going to do this for our whole lives, but I don’t want it to hurt as much.”

“That’s why you have to always be better than the villains, Y/N. I know I’m going to be.”

 She tucked the clean popsicle stick into her bookbag when she was done with it, not wanting to throw it on the ground. Her hand found its way to his, curling her smaller fingers gently around his. Her smile was all too bright, a trait of his that seemed to grow on her the longer they spent together. “We’ll do it together, right? You and me on top of the charts, just like we dreamed of?”.

He relished in the warmth of her hand pressed to his, even if it was just a friendly. He was going to miss moments like this, dreams of the two of them...All that planning for nothing. He sighed, his eyes going from the sky to the dirt beneath their feet. “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

With a furrowed brow, she asked, “What’s up?” It couldn’t be bad...

“Tomorrow I’m leaving for America. I don’t know how long.”

“What do you mean you’re leaving for America tomorrow?” Y/N asked her best friend, eyes wide with fear. He knew he should have told her earlier, but he couldn’t explain why he was leaving, and he knew the more time she knew the greater chance he would reveal the reason. She couldn’t know about All For One. It would only put her in danger.

He sighed, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I have to go to America. I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you before-”

“I can’t believe this. You waited until the day before to tell me I’ll basically never see you again. You expect me to be satisfied with a two minute goodbye today and just forget about you- about everything?” she asked, a stone sinking to the pit of her stomach. She felt like she was going to cry or get sick. How could he do this to her? 

“I know. I know. I should have told you sooner but I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just can’t tell you.”

That answer wasn’t good enough. It was wrong to pry, but the betrayal was too much for her to handle rationally.

She turned her head away from him, staring bitterly at the wall beside her. She refused to meet his eyes. “I thought I could trust you.You’re one of my closest friends, Toshi, but now I know you don’t care. If you cared you would have at least given me a heads up, maybe spent more time with me before you just decide to abandon me,” she sneered, the anger building up in her chest. “You’re too good for someone like me. Shota-kun was right this whole time. Everytime he told me you were just playing with me, that you didn’t actually care about me; he was right, wasn’t he?”

All Might shook his head, trying to reach out to grab her, bring her back to his side. He didn’t want her to turn against him now. He didn’t want to say goodbye with her hating him, her last memory of him being so terrible. Still, she jumped away from her seat, stumbling over her feet to get away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Y/N, please. I just want this goodbye to be happy.”

“Goodbyes are never fucking happy, Yagi. You’re so stupid.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“How could you not?” Y/N bit back her sadness, letting anger take over. “Just forget it. It’s not worth fighting over. You’re leaving, so goodbye. Maybe we’ll see each other again, maybe not. But just know, I would have done anything to stay by your side if you really cared about me.” With those words lingering in the air, she turned on her heel and started to walk away. 

“Y/N, please don’t go yet,” he paused, trying to gather himself. She was walking away, her back turned and her head hung.  “I love you.”

But she didn’t turn around. What was the point now? She’d lost him already, no use in saying anything back or confessing her love as well. He would still be leaving tomorrow, and they would probably never see each other again. It would break her heart to run back there and hug him, confess her long time feelings to the boy. They were never an item. Maybe if he stayed, they could have been something more. 

If he really loved her, he wouldn’t leave her behind. If he really loved her, he would have shut his mouth before those three little words, and saved her the broken heart.

Part Two is up!

[elldell1204]

I Sing for Love - Jay Halstead x Reader

fofisstilinski: hi, i would like a jay halstead with prompts 3 - “Can you just shut your mouth?”, 60 - “But I want to hear you sing.”, 63 - “I think I love you.”, please, thanks

Thank you for this! ❤️ I didn’t reblog @darkdisrepair ’s prompt list to be getting them, but they kindly let me use them so definitely go and check them out. Their Upstead fics are like no other! They’re genuinely amazing. 😘 Anyways, I really loved writing this one. I did alter some of the prompts slightly to make them work in the sentence, by the way. Also, I’ve been playing The Last of Us II recently, and this fic was partially inspired by the scene of Ellie playing the guitar in the music store. I’ve linked it down below so you can listen to the song I mean, as it’s really beautiful and thought it’d fit nicely here. I hope you like it, even if it is a little long-winded. Enjoy! 😊

Warning: couple swear words, may make you cry :( sorry!

wc - 2,783

Click here for the song

Admiring the pile of untouched boxes in the otherwise empty corner of the living room, you took a moment to finally let it sink in. ‘I’m moving in with Jay.’ It was a seemingly simple event to anyone else, but for you and your best friend, it was a huge step forward in your hopefully long life together. Because you knew this was it. You had shared your heart, your mind, your soul with Jay Halstead, a feat you had never even come close to achieving with any of your other boyfriends, not that there were many.

It was scarily similar how alike you two were, yet at the same time, you were totally different. You were both quick-witted, divergent thinkers, aware of the true horrors of the world but in different lights. He had first discovered that when his father gave him ‘tough love’ as a child, a trait he vowed never to adopt. Next was when he saw the travesty that is war; tragic losses of friends as their lives are ripped from your hands by beings you could swear weren’t human, the methods of finding information that haunted you in the form of your worst nightmares, the survivor’s guilt that plagued your everyday when you came home to the widows of the men you fought so hard to save, but unfortunately it wasn’t hard enough. It was a miracle he was able to pull himself out of that hole, and still, he hasn’t fully. But with your help and Hailey’s, he’s surviving. Knowing him now, you weren’t surprised that Jay went into the police force after his active duty. Some say that Chicago is a warzone in itself, but he knew that he could endure this one. After all, the heart he possesses wouldn’t have allowed him to do something with his life that didn’t help others. One of the many reasons why you loved him. Every day he sees the scum of the world, but when he manages to help someone, it reminds him of why he does it. And he knows when he comes home to you, he’s safe. You both know that. Because you have each other, and you protect one another, physically and mentally.

You weren’t on the front lines like Jay was, but still you saw the suffering and agony the world withstands. You were an ASA, a dream you had since you were a child. From the age of three you were better at arguments than any other child on the playground, something your dad used to tease you lovingly for your whole childhood. He told you to “chase your dreams until they become reality, because you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t”. You had asked him why he seemed so forlorn when he said the last part, sat on your bed one night after he’d read you your story. That was when he told you about his dream of becoming a singer, an almost unachievable dream, but one he worked so damn hard for. You asked what happened, and he relayed how his mother became troubled with drinking and drugs after his father left, and so he, being the eldest child, had to work to provide for the family, and so his dream stayed a dream.

You remember saying “But, Daddy, you can still be a singer. I can be your audience.”, and you can still see the smile that spread across his face at your words, the expression being etched into your memory ever since. That was the night he decided to make you his protégé, teaching you how to play guitar and singing with you. This went on for years, and by the time you were thirteen, you were both playing along together, serenading and smiling without a care in the world.

But it wasn’t long before your world crashed down around you. You were seventeen when you got the call, walking out of school one afternoon, with the biggest of your problems being a boring geography assignment, when your mother told you to get to the hospital instead of going straight home. She wouldn’t – more like couldn’t – tell you why over the phone, and as you rushed to Lakeshore Memorial Hospital, your mind was racing with possibilities.

Your dad had collapsed at work, luckily not severely injured, but after running further tests, it was discovered he had stage four lung cancer, and there was nothing they could do. You barely left the hospital the next few weeks, sitting by your father’s bedside as he drifted in and out of consciousness, coughing one minute and throwing up the next. He managed to stay awake a few hours a day at the start, holding your hand and telling you he loved you, retelling stories from his childhood and yours. But when his lungs got weaker, he asked you to bring in your guitar and sing to him, seeing as he couldn’t do it himself. “Music makes me almost as happy as you do, my darling.”

So you did. You sang until your voice was hoarse, until you fell asleep mid-verse, until your fingers and thumbs were blistered. Your mother sat like a mannequin in the chair on the other side of his bed, holding his hand, treasuring the feeling. The feeling of the man you lost too soon.

“If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself. Everything that I’ve found here, I’ve not found by myself.” You sang, tears pricking at your eyes. You looked up, gazing over at the weak form of your father. If it wasn’t for the machine hooked up to him that was beeping quietly but steadily, you may have thought he was already gone. He was that debilitated, with his limbs laid straight, outlining his body, his eyes closed and his lips, that seemed paler than ever before, the only landmark in the vast ocean of ghastly white that had replaced the face once full of life and laughter.

You laid your guitar back in its case before moving closer to him, intertwining your fingers with his, scared at how cold they felt already. You looked over at your mother. She was silently crying, her eyes rimmed red and streaks traced down her cheeks, and she nodded her head at you.

You sniffed, letting the tears that stung your eyes fall as you stood, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your father’s forehead.

“It’s okay, Dad.” You whispered. “You can go now. Go be at peace. I love you.”

And after a deep breath, you turned to the doctor that stood at the doorway. “You can take him off life support now.”

You let the tear flow down your cheek for a few seconds before you wiped it away. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the sadness. You had a job to do.

You had officially moved in with Jay a few weeks ago now, but due to your busy lives, the only things you had unpacked were the bare necessities, most of which were already dotted around your shared apartment.

It still sounds weird to refer to Jay’s apartment as your own. You practically lived here before he asked you, anyways, seeing as yours was a lot smaller, in a worse neighbourhood and had a lot of noisy neighbours. It was practically the complete opposite to Jay’s, his being a two-bedroom condo with sweet Mrs Elizabeth Bailey next door who you often helped out by carrying her groceries or fixing a dodgy cupboard door. She was like a great aunt to you both, inviting you round for dinner or baking you some cookies every so often. Many a time had she told you about her late husband, Tommy, and their stories from their lives together. Both you and Jay loved to hear the tales of their adventures, and you were saddened that you never got to meet him. One night, you sat close together on Lizzie’s couch, Jay’s arm wrapped around your waist as you leant into his chest, admiring a photo album she had passed to you as she recalled the memories linked to each image from her armchair. She had surprised you when she suddenly said, “You two remind me of Tommy and I; hopelessly in love.” You looked up and smiled at her, a twinkle in her eye as she remembered her husband, and you felt Jay pull you just that little bit closer.

It was also that night, when you both returned to his apartment, that he asked you to move in with him.

And now you were rummaging through your stuff that was packed into boxes, pretty much half of your life stuffed neatly into them. Looking through each one, you realised how little each of the material items mattered to you now that you knew Jay. Apart from the photos of friends and family, the odd keepsake you’d collected over the years and meaningful gifts from various birthdays and Christmases, it was all just junk. At least you thought so until you spotted your guitar case tucked away into the corner.

You took a deep breath before reaching over and picking it up, getting to your feet as you carried the case over to the couch. You sat down slowly, your heartrate picking up even with your meticulously controlled breaths. You gently laid it down in front of you and opened it, lifting the lid like it would shatter if you went too fast. You hadn’t opened it in years, not since you closed it at the hospital on that horrible day. A droplet landed on the smooth mahogany, one that came from your eyes. It took you a while before you wiped it away, unsure if you were strong enough to touch the instrument without breaking down before it.

‘Pull yourself together, Y/N, it’s been ten years’ you thought. And despite telling yourself that you had mostly moved past your father’s death, trying to see the light from it instead of the darkness, you still had moments where you were majorly overcome with grief. But you knew you could do this. You had to. He would have wanted you to.

So you picked it up. You examined it, not that there would be any new marks or scratches with it being shut off from the world for a decade, and then laid it on your knee like a baby, your hands assuming the positions that were like second nature to you, like another language. And you strummed the strings. They were horribly out of tune, so you let out a sodden laugh at the sound before tuning it to perfection.

Now all you had to do was play. You had time before Jay got home, so that wasn’t stopping you. What was is the thought of playing the guitar your dad bought you, the guitar your dad taught you to play, the guitar that you played to him and with him as you sang together. You knew he wouldn’t want you to stop playing, but you couldn’t bear the thought of playing it without him there to listen.

So you closed your eyes and imagined he was there with you, listening and smiling, as your fingers found the first chord on the neck of the guitar and you played it. Then the next. And the next. And you were doing it. You were playing the song. Now all you had to do was sing. You saw your dad’s smile and you knew you could do it.

“If I ever were to lose you,

I’d surely lose myself.”

Then suddenly there was a loud smash of glass on the floor behind you and you jumped, spinning around violently to see Jay stood in the doorway over some shattered glass.

“What the hell, Jay?! You scared the shit outta me.” You shouted, a hand over your racing heart.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just wanted to hear you sing.” He smiled sympathetically, walking a little further in to lean against the chest of drawers in the corner.

“Shut your mouth. Like hell you did. You just wanted something to make fun of me for.” You huffed, frowning, as you moved to put away your guitar. You could feel the unjustifiable anger bubbling deep inside you at him hearing you, allowing yourself to be so careless as to let him in the first place.

“What? No, of course not. It was really beautiful, and I’ve never really heard you sing before.” He said cautiously as he came to sit beside you on the couch, taking a hold of your hands to stop you putting away the guitar. He could tell you were annoyed, and though he wasn’t sure why, he knew to tread carefully, as he seemingly had hit a nerve.

“Yeah, well, I don’t do it around other people, at least not since I was younger.” You said softly, feeling guilty for shouting at him.

“With your dad?” He asked. He knew all about the story with your father, minus the part where you sang to him before he died. You couldn’t bring yourself to relive that if you didn’t have to. But now you did have to. You couldn’t let Jay be in the dark about it any longer. All he had ever been was supporting and caring to you, and you felt ready to let him in fully.

“Yeah.” You whispered, not trusting your voice. You shuffled in closer to him, and he let go of your left hand to wrap his arm around you, and then you took a deep breath. “I, erm, haven’t played my guitar since the day my dad died. He asked me to play it to him whilst he was in hospital, because he couldn’t do it himself like before he got sick. And on his last day, I played him that song you just heard; it was one of his favourites. Not that he was conscious. He’d been knocked out cold with meds for days by then. After, we said goodbye and took him off life support. And I could never bring myself to play my guitar since.”

Silence followed, allowing him to process and you to recover. He kept rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, showing you support without using his words.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “But wouldn’t he want you to keep playing? For him?”

“He would, that’s why I’m trying now.” You pulled away slightly and smiled at him. “He’d have liked you, y’know? He really would.”

“I’m sure the feeling would be mutual.” He returned your smile.

Every day he reminded you of the wonderful man he is; caring, funny, kind, smart. But he also showed you he loved you, that he trusted you. And so you did the same.

You sat up, retrieving your guitar and laying it on your lap once more. You glanced over to him and smiled.

“This was also one of his favourites.” You told him, and then you started to play.

 “Talking away,

I don’t know what,

I’m to say I’ll say it anyway,

Todays another day to find you.

Shying away,

I’ll be coming for your love okay.

 Take on me,

Take me on.

I’ll be gone,

In a day or two.

 Needless to say,

I'm odds and ends,

But I'll be stumbling away,

Slowly learning that life is okay.

Say after me,

It's no better to be safe than sorry.

 Take on me,

Take me on,

I'll be gone,

In a day or two,

In a day or two.”

 When you finished, you sighed deeply, a half-sad, half-loving smile spreading across your face as you turned towards Jay. He was sat in an awestruck daze, smiling back at you as you put your guitar away in the case. When you sat back up, he shifted closer to you, gently taking your cheek in his palm as he gazed into your eyes, running his thumb softly over your cheek.

“I think I love you.” He murmurs.

You scoff jokingly and roll your eyes teasingly. “Well, you better bloody love me, Halstead. We’ve moved in together.”

He chuckles, and you can feel his warm breath brush over your cheek.

“I do. I love you. And I’ll keep saying it, even when you’re sick of hearing it.”

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it, Jay, because I love you too.” You whispered, smirking as you leaned in to kiss him. He met your lips with his, kissing you lovingly, assuring that you knew you were it for him, as he was it for you.

[holylulusworld]

I don't wanna love somebody else (3)

Request: Was thinking something angsty with Sebastian Stan & reader. His friend maybe tells him that she's not nice & is behind his fame & money so she's acting all nice. Once when she's talking abt someone else Seb thinks she's actually talking abt him. He acts cold towards her & throws her out on her b'day. He insults her in front of everyone & tells everyone how bad she is. She leaves the country & changes all the contacts. Seb sees her after 2yrs, with his child. Idk a happy ending??? 

This part got inspired by A Great Big World’s ‘I don't wanna love somebody else

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader, Chris Evans x Reader (platonic), OFC Matteo Christopher, OFC Loretta

Warnings: angst, sad reader, mentions of heartbreak/break-up, arguments, daddy!Sebastian

You love me not masterlist

Sebastian is pacing around Chris’s apartment. Glancing at his best friend, trying to convince him to give him your addressee or at least your phone number.

“Please, Chris.” Moving his hand over his face Sebastian sighs. “I only want to talk to her. It’s been over a week and she didn’t allow me to see my son, please.”

“Seb, I always respected your privacy, never even tried to get involved with your decisions. Only one time I tried to make you change your mind, the night Y/N gave birth to your son. I called you, told you she’s in the hospital, asking for you.” Chris is clearing his throat at the memory of you lie on the hospital bed, waiting for Sebastian to come.

“I thought she has a broken leg or something…” Sebastian whispers, feeling more guilt well up. “I didn’t know…”

“Sebastian, you hung up the phone before I could explain the situation. I tried to reach you again and you refused all my calls that night. What if she would’ve had an accident and was close to dying?” Now Sebastian’s eyes widen, and he let the tears fall.

“I…”

“Exactly! You wouldn’t have cared at all, Seb, too busy believing this lying bitch of a best friend. I tried to make you see your mistake, Y/N tried, hell even your parents tried to make you call her. They still can’t believe you treated her that badly.” Chris is glancing at his phone the moment Sebastian’s eyes land on it.

In a split-second he grabs Chris’s phone running out of the apartment to dial your number. He’s a panting mess but the sound of your voice let Sebastian’s heart flutter.

“Chris, is something wrong? I’m at the playground Matteo loves so much, you know, close to my house. Do you want to come around?” Not knowing what to do, Sebastian wants to imitate Chris's voice, but this would be wrong, and he clears his throat.

“Please don’t hang up, I stole Chris’s phone to hear your voice.” Sniffling Sebastian walks backward seeing Chris approach, angrily clenching his jaw. “I swear Chris will hit me right now. He had nothing to do with this.”

“Seb, please stop trying to get close to me. We are over for two years. This was your decision, not mine. I only try to live with the consequences of your actions. Find someone new to love…if you ever loved me at all…”

You end the phone call and Sebastian glances at the phone he stole from his friend, not knowing how to change your mind.

“Sebastian Stan give me back my phone! How old are you, dude? I swear if you hurt her…” Chris is angrily stalking toward his friend, shaking his head. “Give her some time!”

“She said I shall find someone new to love, if I ever loved her.” Sitting onto the sidewalk, looking at the phone in his hands Sebastian recalls the day he kicked you out of his life.

“I don't wanna love somebody else, Chris.” Sitting next to his friend Chris takes his phone out of Sebastian’s hands. “I don’t know if I’m the right one to give you advice. You are my best friend, but Y/N is my friend too. She’s been through too much over the last two years. I can’t let you hurt her again or force your way back into her life.”

“I know…”

“If you are honest about your intentions and if you still love this wonderful, smart and caring woman, you have to be patient and selfless this time. Give her time, only take what she offers and maybe you can have another chance, if not…” Chris sighs, squeezing his friend's shoulder. “You have to leave her alone.”

----

“That’s great, baby boy.” You try to fake a smile watching your son building a castle of sand with Loretta. She came around to help you over the last week as you were a mess once again. 

Seeing Sarah, hearing the insults and hurtful words made you vulnerable. The worst is, you always hear your son calling Sebastian ‘dadda’ and it breaks your heart.

Then he calls you this morning and the knots you thought left your stomach are back once again. You can’t let this man back into your life but maybe your son deserves to get to know his father.

“Loretta? Your brother is a lawyer, right?”

“Si, one of the best. He studied at Harvard and works in New York.” Loretta is more than proud of her little brother, you can see it all over her face. “Why, Bella?”

“I need to know everything about custody, shared custody and the rights of a father. Sebastian has way more money and I don’t want to lose my baby if he wants sole custody…” Loretta’s eyes round, before she picks your son up. “Bella, I don’t think he will do so. I guess he only wants to get to know this little boy…”

“Do you think I should allow Sebastian to see his son? Matteo called him ‘daddy’ last week. I’m so confused and got no clue what to do know. I can’t forgive him for what he did, but my heart still wants to reach out for him…” Sniffling you take your son out of Loretta’s arms.

“The heart wants, what the heart wants, Bella. We can’t always agree with our stupid hearts.” Nodding you look at your son smiling up at you.

“Find a nice Italian man! They are hot men, strong men with strong hands…” Loretta swoons and you chuckle at her words.

Oh, I built a world around you

Oh, you had me in a dream,

I lived in every word you said

The stars had aligned

I thought that I found you

And I don't wanna love somebody else

“Can you call your brother and ask him to send me all the information I need? I want to be prepared, just in case…”

----

Another week later Sebastian tries to leave the set when he bumps into one of the PAs, looking for him. “Mr. Stan, I’m sorry to disturb you but I got a letter for you.”

“Thank you.” Glancing at the letter Sebastian’s hands start trembling, that’s your signature. Heart beating a mile in a minute he rips the envelope open, there are only a few words written on the scented stationery.

We need to talk about Matteo, meet me at this place… That’s all Sebastian can read before he starts shaking. His vision is clouded by tears as he runs toward Chris standing in front of his trailer.

“She sends me a letter…” Voice raspy Sebastian hands his friend the letter but Chris doesn’t need to read it. You already talked about your plans. “I know, Seb. Y/N asked me for advice. I suggest you have a shower before you talk to her, you reek…”

“Okay…yeah…you’re right…”

Oh, I shouldn't go on hoping

Oh, that you will change your mind

And one day we could start again

----

Nervously glancing at the flower he bought Sebastian knocks at your door. The moment you let him into your house his heart begins to race. Your hair is in a messy bun, you are wearing sweatpants and an old shirt, but you are the most beautiful thing he ever saw.

“These are for you…” He manages to choke out as you lead him into your living room, pointing toward some papers.

“I want to talk about custody, Sebastian. I asked a lawyer for advice and want you to sign some papers.” Sebastian’s face falls, as he sits onto your couch, nodding.

“Okay…”

“I will have sole custody for Matteo, and you will agree to these terms but…” Taking a deep breath you place a picture of your son onto the table. “I will allow you to see him. My job here is almost done. I got a better job offer in the States and will move back…”

“I sign everything you want me to if I can see my son…” Sebastian’s hands are shaking as he blindly grabs the papers to sign them. 

“You should ask a lawyer first, Seb. I don’t want to defraud you.” Glancing at Sebastian you shake your head when he signs the papers without thinking twice. 

“I know you won’t do such a thing, Y/N. I learned from my mistakes. Can I…” Clearing his throat he looks around your house. “See him, please. Only for a minute…”

“You can stay till dinner, then you must leave. Matteo needs to sleep early; he woke up in the middle of the night.” Walking out of the living room you show Sebastian your son’s room. “His room is at the last one on the right, next to my bedroom.”

“I can go in alone?” Searching your face Sebastian gulps hard seeing the hesitation in your eyes. This is hard for you and he doesn’t want to make it harder. “Or do you rather come with me? I mean…uh…you’re his mommy.”

“Okay…”

----

“Look at my big boy! Did you grow over the last week?” Matteo is showing his father the dog he got from him. “You like the dog?”

“He won’t let it go. Slept with it over the last week, even refused to let it go during lunch and got it dirty. I couldn’t wash it as my son decided to cry every time I tried to get hold of the dirty plushie.”

Sebastian can’t hold back the smile at the sight of his son playing with the dog he gave him. Matteo is squealing, walking toward his father to place the toy in his hands. Your breath hitches in your throat as not even you could take the plushie out of your son’s hands.

Watching your son playing with his father, squealing you know that this was the right decision, even if it breaks your heart being close to Sebastian your son needs his father.

“Y/N, can we talk later?” Sebastian asks hopefully glancing at you. Your heart wants to race but you press your hand onto your chest, taking deep breaths. “About Matteo…?”

“About us…” His blue eyes search your face as you refuse to look at him. “No. There is no us, Seb and there will never be an us again. You made me leave and this is how it ended. I will allow you to see, Matteo Christopher, nothing else…”

“Please…”

“Do you know how hard this is for me, Seb? Do you have the slightest idea of how it breaks me inside to see YOU next to the son you abandoned along with me? I can or rather I don’t want to talk about us as this is in the past.” Sebastian nods, remembering the advice Chris gave him.

“I’m sorry for asking.”

----

Watching your son sleep you look at the floor, picking up the dirty plushie. Next to it lies a piece of paper and your necklace. Sebastian must have let someone repair it. 

Your eyes fill with tears at the single line he wrote onto the paper: I don't wanna love somebody else.

Well I don't care if loneliness kills me

I don't wanna love somebody else

Oh, I thought that I could change you

Oh, I thought that we would be the greatest story that I tell

I know that it's time to tell you it's over

But I don't wanna love somebody else

All works Tags

@yolobloggers​​, @meganywinchester​​​, @shikshinkwon​​​, @miraclesoflove​​ ​, @mogaruke​​, @shatteredabby​​, @soryuwifeyxx​​, @letsdisneythings​​, @i-love-superhero​

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore​​​, @notyourtypicalrose​​​, @voltage-my2dlove​​​, @thedoctorscamanion, @officialmarvelwhore​​​, @randomgirlkensy​​​, @juniorhuntersam​​​, @lumar014​​​, @doctorswife221b​​​, @sister-winchesters99​​​, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​​​, @the-soulofdevil​​, @chonisberonica​

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags

@hhiggs​​​​, @roonyxx​​​, @stylesismyhubs​​​, @multisuperfandom​​, @mrspeacem1nusone​​, @shadowcatsworld, @fallenoutofrose​

You love me not Tags

@thequeenreaders​, @aubageddon91​, @adayinmymeadow​, @imsonick​, @selluequestrian​, @mccloudchloe​, @harrison-shot-first​, @shakemeupthanks-blog​, @bvckys-doll​

[yootaesowlwrites]

Requested by; 200bluesky200

Request; I would like to request A62 with Sebastian when you’re Enzo Ferrari‘s granddaughter and he promised you when you were little that you will be the chief of the Ferrari Formula 1 team when you’re old enough. After you finished one study in management and one in engineering both with the best possible grade you make your way to the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix to tell Binotto that he is fired you already have two goals in your mind you wanna achieve in 2020 first: Win the championship Second: Win Sebastian Vettel as a lover you don’t really care that he have a pregnant wife and 2 children at home if you’re Grandfather always had played clean he would never have achieved what he achieved when you arrive at the track with your red dress everyone looks at you and when you talk with Sebastian he asks you if you wanna eat dinner with him at the hotel trough the whole dinner he can’t look away from you and after the dinner, one thing leads to the other. Much love 💕

Prompt; A62- “Are you going to eye fuck me all night or are you going to do something about it?"

Note; As far as I know, the management's highest degree is a Master's degree and seeing as I wanted to go study software engineering (But wasn't allowed to) the highest is the Bachelors degree, now I'm not sure which engineering degree you wanted your character to study so I pick software engineering because it's the only one I know a little bit about.

P.S; Last one for 2019. Merry Christmas. Happy 2020. I will see you guys with brand new requests perhaps mid-January or the beginning of February.

Masterlist • Prompt List • Smut Prompt List • Scenario List • AU List • List Of Drivers • Fan Fictions • Support Me? •

(Y/n) walks along the Abu Dhabi Was Marina circuit looking as the cars fly past during FP2, she was on her way to the Ferrari hospitality to have a quick meeting with some of the bosses before informing Mattia that he was no longer part of the team, some might say it was cruel but life is cruel and nobody got anywhere without power.

“Without a doubt, I will not be a mistake for this team… I will lead this team to victory come 2020.” (Y/n) says, The people in the office nod heir heads but were still hesitant. “If you do not believe in me, you are simply making a mistake… As I told you I have perfected my craft and obtained a Masters degree in management and A Bachelors degree in engineering.”

“High degree’s mean nothing unless you can show us.” One of the people say. “We will give you half of 2020 so prove to us that you are an aspect.”

“I will give you the trophy at the end of next year, you will have no choice but to believe in me.” (Y/n) says. “If you make it that far, See you in Australia, Ms Ferrari.” One of them said while everyone gathered their papers.

“You will not be disappointed.” (Y/n) says picking up her papers and leaving the room, she saw the drivers entering the for dinner after a long FP2 session, her eyes land on Sebastian and felt her heart beat faster, she had several goals in life, but she believed the two most important ones were; Win the championship for Ferrari and Win Sebastian Vettel, nothing would stand in her way.

“I regret informing you but you are no longer part of this team, We were an embracement this season and I will not sit back and watch this team become a backmarker.” (Y/n) says while sitting in Mattia’s office.

“We had a few bumps, it will be sorted out for next year,” Mattia says.

“I do not care… the decision is made.” (Y/n) says. “You may have one last weekend with us, but then you should clear out your office, have a good weekend.” (Y/n) says getting up from the chair and leaves the office.

It was the start of the 2020 season and (Y/n) had done her absolute best to get the car in perfect form, a lot of factory workers were fired and new ones were hired to devolve this season’s car and make it the best on the grid, (Y/n) hadn’t seen much of Sebastian over the winter break but now that the season was about to start things were about to change, (Y/n) arrived early at the circuit wearing a red dress that hugged her curves just right exposing just enough to leave men dreaming about what else was underneath her dress.

“Good morning, Ms Ferrari.” One of the staff members greets her.

“Morning.” (Y/n) replies while making her way to the office, it was going to be a long day with a lot of nervous building up considering this would be the first time the car would run since the Barcelona testing.

“Coffee, Ms Ferrari?” Another staff member asks.

“Yes and make it strong.” (Y/n) says while sorting through some paperwork. “Oh, and if you see Sebastian Vettel, could you send him my way, yes?”

“Of course, Ms Ferrari.” They said and left her office to go make the coffee and hopefully find Sebastian.

(Y/n) steps into the Ferrari garage ready to go to the pit wall for FP1 when she spots Sebastian drinking some water, she walks up to him with a seductive smile.

“You know, you are a hard man to find.” (Y/n) says, Sebastian chuckles putting down the water bottle.

“I’m sorry I did not know I was needed,” Sebastian says. “You look beautiful, Ms Ferrari.” Sebastian complements her as his eyes trail down her body over her exposed cleavage and down her long tanned legs.

“I accept your apology and thank you, I tried my best.” (Y/n) says, she could see his eyes linger a little longer on her breast.

“You did not have to try, you already looking stunning,” Sebastian says. “Perhaps we could go out to dinner tonight?”

“Sound’s perfect, come pick me up at say… 6?” (Y/n) asks.

“Six is good,” Sebastian says.

“I should get going, it was lovely talking you, Sebastian.” (Y/n) says.

“Of course, I shouldn’t keep our boss away from her job,” Sebastian says, (Y/n) gives him one last smile before making her way to the pit wall to talk to some engineers.

That night (Y/n) and Sebastian were in a restaurant talking about the progression of the car and how Sebastian felt driving it, (Y/n) had to admit she kept Sebastian close in mind while developing the car, she made sure it was accustom to his driving style, (Y/n) would catch Sebastian staring at her especially at her exposed cleavage, it was a much different dress she had on for dinner and she was hoping it would swoon him and it appeared to be working.

“So I have to ask.” (Y/n) begins, Sebastian looks into her eyes smiling at her, (Y/n) Ferrari didn’t care if Sebastian Vettel was a married man nor that he had three children at home. “Are you going to eye fuck me all night or are you going to do something about it?” (Y/n) asks, she wanted Sebastian Vettel in every single way, no matter what.

“I uh.” Sebastian begins but (Y/n) quickly cuts him off.

“Because you can touch… you can do whatever it is you desire.” (Y/n) says with fire and lust burning inside of her, Sebastian could see it in her eyes, the desire, the need, he would most likely feel guilty about what he was about to do with this woman but right now... quilt was the last thing on his mind.

“We should go back to the hotel,” Sebastian says.

“Indeed we should.” (Y/n) says.

[divagonzo]

Beloved  (Ch. 1 Bishop’s Castle)

A/N: So this story (because to do this justice needed to be longer than one chapter) was inspired by this particular post and while RL got in the way a bit and the story fought me some, Ch.1 is ready for posting.

Rated M/18/NC-17 for later chapters but also some triggering aspects starting in chapter one. Trigger warning tags will be applied at the bottom of this post.

(And I’m going to make the Tumblr version Ace safe but have its full version on Ao3.)

Tagging @remedial-potions , @weasleymama @kingronw @vivithefolle @austenpoppy @melimelrockswell1204 @ashleopardd since people asked to be tagged when this first went around. (Sorry @justsaya for the extra tag.)

Ch. 1 - Bishop’s Castle

A03 // FF.net

“Damn it Harry! why the bloody hell are we always picked for shit duty?”

Harry looked up from his stack of parchment, quirking an eye at his best mate across the desks. “What are you on about?” He returned to his own stack of parchment, scribbling away and only offering 1 ear to his best mate sitting across from him in the department.

“See this?” He held up a five-foot long piece of parchment. “That bugger Robards is sending us out tonight to corral a loose Werewolf. And I was actually hoping to get caught up on the mound of paperwork but this cropped up.”

“Werewolf?” Harry reached for the parchment and Ron reluctantly gave over. “Yeah, some poor sod in the Midlands. So I was told, the family has a safe room and everything was on the up and up and somehow the person escaped while turned and are running loose on the moors.”

Harry looked up from the parchment and gave Ron a particular look. “Trowbridge?” Harry scanned the parchment again and stopped cold. “That troll? Fuck.”

“Now you see why I’m beastly. That sod can’t do shit. He failed his apprenticeship 3 times before being told not to apply again.”

“You mean he’s the same one – “

“The same one. There’s a reason why Bailiffs rarely make Auror – because of the Trowbridge rule.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. He’s on loan for the month since the other team is out on assignment, with no headquarters communications, wherever the fuck they are.” Ron ran his hands through his hair, leaving it looking a little like Harry’s this evening. “I don’t like this, not one bit. Why couldn’t we get someone who knows which end of the wand to use?”

“Me neither. Bugger.” Harry handed back the five feet of parchment. “I guess we’ll have to plan on this being a three-person operation since he’s incompetent.”

“Wainwright! Trowbridge! Potter! Weasley! Ten Minutes!” the guttural bark of their Senior Auror Hemera Jones erupted from the Director’s office. “Debriefing now.”

Ron and Harry both grunted before collecting their wands and cloaks for her office. As one of the Senior Aurors, she had an office, for what little she was in it. The four men crowded into the wardrobe-sized room, refusing to take a seat. Fighting over the lone seat in the small space would be pointless for how long they’d be in there. “I’ll make it brief. A werewolf is loose on the western side of the Shropshire Hills. The person in question, Maggie Grey, normally, so I’m told, is content to sleep off her debilitating condition after receiving a Wolfsbane Potion. Tonight, it didn’t work somehow and she tore through the wood door and off into the night. Our task, gentlemen, is to apprehend her safely and return her to a magically sealed cell until she recovers. She is to not be harmed, gentlemen, at all costs.”

“All costs? The hell?” Ron piped up.

“Shut your gob, Weasley. She’s a Greyback victim during the Coup. She was targeted since her husband is a Muggle and she’d spoken out against the regime. Yaxley sent Greyback to handle it and he bungled it intentionally or otherwise.” She gave all of the men a pointed look. No one would bother admitting that they were all glad that the bastard was dead, thanks to Ron and Neville.

“The Director said that her husband is a Muggle and a Muggle Healer at the local hospital. We can’t let her be hurt because it’d be a fuck ton of paperwork to do and I for one don’t want to spend a week dealing with Muggles and having their memories obliviated. Anyone here want to do that?” Four voices grunted in agreement. “Yeah, me neither so stunners only. We’re here to apprehend, not arrest. There’s a big difference, especially with the change in Ministry protocols.”

“So where are we going?”

“We’re taking a portkey to a little place called Bishop’s Castle. It’s on the edge of Wales but we’re landing about a mile northeast of there. It’s the only landing location for ten square miles. Once there, disillusion yourselves and track her down. I want this handled with as little fuss as possible. We can’t scare the Muggles or even the magical folk who live there. No one wants to know that a person with their affliction lives in their tiny hamlet.”

“And if there’s a muggle in her sights?” Harry asked. “Do we stun them both and go from there or what? What if she’s already hurt someone? What then?”

Hemera huffed. “I’d prefer the Muggle not be hurt but use your best judgment. Dismissed.”

The four men collected their overcoats and checked their limited amount of gear. One by one they left her office and made their way to the Portkey room. Director Robards, in one of his first acts as Director of the Aurors, was to designate a spare conference room into a portkey room. On the hour and half hour, arrivals would come into the department – only on Auror authority – and on the quarters, departures would happen. He mentioned in one of the first meetings that Harry sat in on that they needed somewhere secure to come and go without going through the Ministry lifts or entrances and exits. Too many nattering employees giving away Auror departures became a problem after the Purge.

“I don’t like this,” Ron muttered. “Bloody werewolf capture. And we get picked.”

“Stuff it, Ron. It’s our job. Anyone else would try to harm the poor sod. She can’t help her condition.”

“Like Remus and his furry little problem, right?”

“Something like that,” Harry whispered. “It would be nice once the better potion is approved for wider use. I hate that Remus never saw it or got to use it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They traveled down the back way, coming to the room with a minute to spare. The others, including Auror Jones, were present and accounted for. Their portkey for this trip was a manky rucksack, with the buckles rusted and the leather fraying from the seams. Harry knew better though, that it was magically secure so it wouldn’t fall apart. He could feel the magic sending waves off. It had to be powerful for him to feel it this distinctly.

“Potter, you’re on point. Weasley, take East. Wainwright, south. Trowbridge, North. Potter will snoop around the township and I’ll apparate to the Belfry of the Church on the South side of the hamlet.”

“What do we do if we come across our target?” Trowbridge seemed a little slow on the uptake tonight. “You said stunners only but what if she turns on us? You expect us to take a bite on a full bloody moon.”

Hemera Jones pulled a face. “You git. You know plenty of second-year spells to prevent her from laying a paw on you or anyone else. Use them. Don’t hurt her unless it’s a last resort. Sorted?”

He grunted. Everyone put their hand on the rucksack as it turned blue and they departed for a small village far and away from London.

Minutes later, the five people landed softly in a field outside of the small town. Once on their feet and verifying everything arrived with each one, they disillusioned themselves to Auror Jones satisfaction. She apparated away, disappearing to the belfry of the tallest point on the town – the church on the south side. If anything went sideways they were to send up red sparks. Most of the muggles would think it was some random fireworks.

Each man took off, intending to search the town first before spreading outward. It was drawn up simply, and the most efficient, to cover the most area without disturbing the town inhabitants. Hopefully, the late hour would have most of the village residents asleep in their beds.

Ron grumbled under his breath, especially considering that he saw his breath with every exhale. Crass words stumbled out, especially considering the actual mortal peril they were in. The late night chill bit his nose and ears, leaving them as red as he would be mortified. His poor Mum would probably have a litter of kittens if she knew the circumstances. Fortunately, it was almost close to midnight and Mum wasn’t the one who stayed up late.

Ron turned a corner, past a small lot of autos, parked for the night with grotesque yellow signs showing how much they were for sale in Muggle currency. He kept walking, with a purpose but not so fast he’d miss anything out of the ordinary. Ron pulled the Deluminator from his pocket and pocketed all of the security lights on the back parking lot of whatever business he was walking around. It was a huge risk, going around looking in the dark but having the balls of light available would give him an advantage if he was caught out.

Mounds of wood were stacked meters high, even taller than himself. The rows of processed wood went on for meters upon meters, even higher than his head. “Oh this isn’t going to be good,” he thought to himself. “Bloody fuck, a werewolf and a blasted lumber yard; just what I need tonight.”

Ron kept is wand out in front of him, constantly thinking of a shield charm first if the poor bugger tried to attack him. Ron stepped gingerly between the stacks of processed wood, listening for any noise, ordinary or otherwise. He continued onward, walking up and down the rows, his wand lit to flush out any shadows that might conceal a frightened werewolf.

He stopped and listened, straining his ears. There, off on another row, he heard some wood crash to the asphalt under foo[TJW2] t, along with a high pitched whimper. Since it wasn’t Hermione and it was pushing half eleven, this was either a thief or his target.

He took off towards where he heard the crashing wood. He could have apparated but didn’t want to risk scaring the werewolf or accidentally landing on a petty thief. With steps trained in stealth, he tread softly towards where the noise was. Sure enough, a pallet of wood had fallen. Instead of lighting his wand, Ron popped the Deluminator and released the lights he nicked from around the corner. The balls of light escaped and hung in the air, lighting up the preternaturally darkened space.

He heard a whine a second before he was knocked to the ground. He lifted his head and saw the werewolf racing down the pathway towards the end of the building. The blighter looked no bigger than an over-sized bun.

“Shit,” He jumped up and took off running after the scared bugger.

She turned the corner and he tried to pour on the speed while wishing he had brought his broom to chase the quarry easier. Somehow she was leaving him in the dust and he was the fastest Auror on staff. All of those empty hours running with Harry paid off, even if he might lose sight of his intended.

Ron pulled his wand and cast red sparks up in the night sky. Within moments he heard the sounds of displaced air whooshing into his vicinity.

The balls of light followed him, casting an eerie glow in the area. The werewolf was right on the front edge of the lights, barely bathed in any illumination. He saw Wainright apparate 20m down the drive, near where he came up into the lumber yard and Harry was 50 meters up the street from his momentary position, running hard towards where he was.

Ron kept running, hoping to corner the furry Ms. Grey where he could stun her and safely transport her back to her safe confines for the night. Then again, he hoped someone else apprehended her. He didn’t fancy spending hours working on paperwork and multiple debriefings, especially if she was injured.

Ron saw movement to his right and felt magic flowing past his head.

Bright light blinded him an instant before he felt the blast.

His world blinked out.

Harry was there first. Wainright was immediately at his left shoulder.

“The fuck you playing at, Bronwyn? You hit Ron? Are you mental, a lunatic?”

Harry stared at the other member of their search party, murder in his eyes and on his mind. Vivid Green eyes were full of fury, all focused on the one who didn’t know which way to work his wand. He stared until Trowbridge blinked and he set his focus on his best mate lying in the grass at his feet. Harry yanked the ruck off of his back and reached deep, trying to find the dittany and pads. His hands grew slick trying to staunch the bleeding from his best friend’s head. The preternatural glow from the confiscated lights from the lumber yard bathed everything in an eerie blueish white hue. The dim lights next to whatever building they were lying next only added to the fact that Ron looked close to death already. Blood was seeping through Harry’s fingers, coating his boots, soaking the knees of his trousers and the ends of his jumper sleeve. He finally grasped the enormous stash of pads and shoved them onto the wound, watching the pad soak through. Merlin, not again. He’d lived through this once already. “Stay with me,” He growled before turning to Wainwright, working feverishly to protect their location from any curious eyes this late at night.

“Call Jones now,” Harry yelled at Bronwyn. He didn’t stir from watching Harry work on Ron’s injury.

“Damn it, call Jones now!” He yelled and Wainwright sent up red sparks, three sets in a row – the Auror emergency notification. In seconds she landed softly on the grass three meters away. “Report!” she barked at the three men.

Trowbridge spoke up first. Harry was too busy trying to grasp the dittany. Every time, it slipped from his fingers. “Weasley was chasing Ms. Grey. I saw him running after her. I thought – “

Wainright cut him off. “Trowbridge cast a powerful stunner and missed. He’s lucky that he didn’t take Weasley’s head off with that bit of careless magic. Instead, he hit the side of the building.” Wainwright illuminated his wand and showed an enormous chunk of masonry had been blown off of the side of the stone building. “The stone, it hit Weasley before knocking him backward like a bloody bomb blast. It’s sheer luck that he didn’t land on the stone wall and break his bloody neck.” Not two meters behind them was a one meter stone wall, topped with various river stones, mostly with rough edges.

“It was a stunner, just like Jones told us to use. He moved in front of it.”

“Yeah, and your wand movements were Bombada,” Wainwright countered.

“Damn it, I can’t get the bleeding to stop,” He complained as he threw over his shoulder the first handful of pads and thrust a second set on them. He patently ignored his sodden trousers, socks, boots, and jumper sleeves. He shifted his knees, trying to keep Ron’s head propped up just enough where he could keep the compress on his head. He didn’t dare use magic, not when he didn’t know the extent of the injuries. One bad spell to quell the bleeding could leave him in the Janus Thickey ward for the rest of his life.

Harry refused to do that to his best friend.

“I can’t get the dittany. He needs a healer now.” He felt one tear escape. “I’m not a healer. I can’t save him.” He said under his breath. “Damn it, Ron. Stay with us.”

“Potter, get him out of here.” Jones shoved something into his hands – a copy of the Auror field manual on arrest procedures. The book was already iridescent blue – a portkey for the Auror emergency landing ward at St. Mungo’s in London. Harry lifted Ron into his arms, looking like a horrific impersonation of Pieta by Michelangelo. He folded Ron’s across the book and across his body, looking so pale in the preternatural lights.

Blood dripped down from the wound onto his trousers, watching each moment seep by like cold custard. The gauze wouldn’t staunch the bleeding. They needed a healer now.

Harry fought the immediate memories of the last time he saw Ron like this, severely injured and on the edge of death. He couldn’t face that again. Instead, he looked across to the remaining Aurors present.

“When we return to London, you’re facing an Inquiry. If I have any say, you will be booted from MLS. And,” Harry saw the book glowing brighter, “if he dies, I will personally strangle you with my own two hands. The fuck – “

Harry didn’t hear the rest of the Jones’ vicious yet soft-spoken harangue. He was holding onto Ron for dear life, awaiting the landing at St. Mungo’s. He had seconds to prepare his knees for the landing. He’d need a strong pain potion after the landing.

Ron was dead weight in his arms. Frothy pink bubbles were erupting from his nose and mouth. Both sets of robes were a grotty mess. “Stay alive, please,” Harry begged to whatever deity would listen and grant his heartfelt request. “I need you.” With a crash, they landed in the secured zone for Aurors who were injured. “Emergency! Auror Down! I need a healer!” Harry yelled through the room. “Auror down!”