#and needs to get saved by sarcastic man that moved here last week; has no combat experience; nor any formal training; but is Him*

[fuckingfandomfreak]

lots of complaining underneath sorry I couldn’t fit everything in the tags like usual

I am genuinely convinced that so many Merthur shippers actually ship Arwen but identify more with Merlin, so they just recreate Arwen’s dynamic (simp, over-protective Arthur and I-can-take-care-of-myself!, always-right!, actual-saint! girlboss) and give it to Merthur. Reasons for this are racism (obviously), the fact that early seasons merlin likes to read (scholarly books on magic not a fucking romantasy mind you), early seasons Merlin being 12 lbs, and the fact that Merlin has magic (cool powers, gay allegory, and is oppressed). Other reasons, too, but these I think really contribute to people directly projecting onto him like they do Morgana. I think this makes people feel personally victimized when Arthur does anything to Merlin bc he’s blond jock and Merlin is bookish, sassy nerd.

But fanon merlin is nothing like actual merlin. Merlin is a MAN; he’s just as arrogant as every other MAN. He’s a bit of a fucking lit bro that thinks he’s underappreciated bc he’s into important, valuable things instead of sports (for idiots). He canonically an genius and he’s many times insufferably arrogant, too.

But only Arthur needs to fix his arrogant bc Arthur’s arrogance is jock bro, so it’s more immediately recognizable and disliked. Even tho, I don’t actually find Arthur that arrogant, or i just can’t forget that most of Arthur’s arrogance is a front for insecurity. He’s only sincerely arrogant about sword fighting (which I don’t mind bc he’s literally the best swordsman in the kingdom and it’s not bragging if it’s true) and little presumptuous bc he’s a wealthy royal.

But this is a long winded way to say that some Merlin fanfics feel like weird revenge fantasies (romantasies??? but not in the book genre way) of nerdy girls with their high school football players mixed with a little class anger (but in the most insincere way bc morgana is never criticized for being rich bc she’s mostly portrayed as a gay white woman, and people don’t understand, or don’t want to address, intersectionality).

Which means Merlin’s actions don’t get judged, but do get examined and then excused, until they are in relation to Morgana. Bc Morgana is ACTUALLY skinny, oppressed, gay allegory, cool powers, always right, sassy, genius, sword fighting, resistance fighter white girl that constantly wins every argument she has with Arthur and makes him look like an idiot. That’s why she gets way more forgiveness and grace than Arthur even tho she is a 1000x worse person. It’s also why she and Merlin are usually besties (especially over him and Gwen) even tho they canonically have a very big political fallout.

Even with the Lamia episode. I have seen so much discourse (and a good amount of fics) that criminalizes the knights (jocks) for their treatment of Merlin (and sometimes Gwen) with people wanting them to prostrate themselves in guilt and then get put into the infirmary by Arthur for daring to hurt Merlin when they were LITERALLY ENCHANTED. Obviously, they themselves would feel guilty, but that doesn’t mean they SHOULD. And Merlin is not fucking lectured or made to apologize when he is enchanted to, and attempts to, KILL Arthur. Like, yeah, okay, the knights grabbed him and were mean to him, but Merlin’s a grown fucking man, the most powerful sorcerer, and, by now, literally physically bigger than both Gwaine and Elyan. He’s fine.

I thank god everyday that Arthur wasn’t there during that fucking episode. Every fucking merthur fanfic would’ve been insufferable.

I will never forgive fandom how unfair it is about Arthur

Dark Merlin It's usually good angst. You know, Merlin had had enough. Dark Arthur? Arthur is a fucking rapist, a monster.

Merlin guilty? Merlin feeling guilty and comforted by the entire cast. Arthur guilty? Arthur doing the worst things possible and someone razing him to the ground

Merlin always gets these nice things. always flowers, courtship, everything. Found family? Everyone comforts Merlin because big bad Arthur. (literally almost every Merlin "found family" is everyone loves Merlin and treats Arthur like shit)

Merlin gets an apology. Arthur? My parents will love me faster than someone will apologize to Arthur in fanfiction.

"suicidal, self-harming Merlin" but Arthur has no right to have mental problems (a whole lot of people have wanted him dead since he was born)

Protectivr knights? Always about Merlin.

Even the fucking omegaverse. Alpha Merlin is a nice calm creature who pretends to be a beta. Alpha Arthur... wild animal, keep Merlin in a cage.

No. Just no.

(forever grateful to those stupid British people that arthur never told merlin he was fat. because the fandom understands that something is a comedy if merlin says it. if arthur it would be ,,abuse")

[pearlywritings]

I don’t want you to think, I don’t want you to worry

synopsis: Lately you’ve been very busy preparing for the examination to take the Akademiya professor position, and it leaves you incredibly stressed. All you need is a concerned boyfriend with a perfect way to distress.

pairing: Kaveh x fem!reader

tw: smut, oral, a lot of praise, a bit of dumbification I suppose, established relationship

word count: 3.3k+ words

a/n: Kaveh and reader are somewhere between late twenties and very early thirties.

Letters leap across the fully written scroll and your head starts hurting from how much of the words there are and how little free space there is. And when your gaze wanders to the side and in a blur makes out dozens of the similar scrolls sprawled all over your table, a frustrated groan on the verge of a whine escapes your throat.

You'll kill Alhaitham one day for convincing you to take an examination for the Vahumana professor position. But how could you resist and fight the prideful feeling rising in your chest when the Alhaitham, the man who rarely spares any praise, complimented and pointed out so many of your skills and vast knowledge, suitable for the position of such high prestige and importance. You truly were flattered, especially by his words that the Akademyia needs some reformation and even Lesser Lord Kusanali eagerly approves it… Could you really lose the opportunity and fail your Archon?

Now you think that you could, after a week of studying like a first-course student in anticipation for their very first exam. You should've denied him. For god's sake, you are the Dastur already and just one examination away from being recognized not only as a professor, but as the Herbad as well - not many achieved this in their late twenties, your multiple works are cited and analyzed during lectures, a couple even coming as close as being called fundamental, yet here you are, exhausting yourself over preparation materials, having little idea what will await you during the examination (no one knows, Alhaitham wouldn't tell and you wouldn't ask).

First few days were quite alright, but at this point you are slowly losing your sanity. Coffee doesn't work, green tea doesn't work, energetic drinks Dehya recommended you do not work… Even a relaxing almost half an hour long shower didn't help you. You can only brush your still a little bit wet hair back not to drip water on the scrolls, and sigh in frustration. You don't remember when the beautiful grandfather clock on your left counted midnight. It must be hours, but you have no desire to check - this discovery will only put you in a greater state of misery. Oh how you wish to be in bed now, surrounded by warmth and quickly drifting to sleep.

You will yourself to focus your droopy eyes back on the text, trying to grasp the last of the topic you are on. That's when you hear the shuffling behind your study's door. Ears catch the sounds of the footsteps passing by your door and going to the kitchen. Mm, looks like you are not the only one awake, but the other person at least has more chances to catch sleep today.

Ever since Kaveh moved in with you, finally convinced that you do not think of him as a burden and that no, you don't think it'd be him using you for his own benefits, he has managed to save more money and get very close to fully paying off the debt. This fixed his working hours and he stopped going all nighters like, well, you are doing right now, actually getting enough rest and energy to work on his projects' blueprints.

Why is he awake right now though? You have no idea and your brain refuses to even care, maybe it's just for a glass of water?

You change your sitting position for the hundredth time.

Only to almost jump when a voice reeking with discontent enters the room.

"Are you at it again?"

Tired eyes meet the red-wine ones of a man who always looks like he is about to give you a piece of his mind. And he totally is.

"As you can see," you want to sound sarcastic, but you are too worn out for this and have absolutely no desire to argue with the boyfriend that cares and really does a lot to lessen this weight you (and Alhaitham) have dumped upon your shoulders.

"Now I might sound hypocritic- not like I care, but you need to go to bed. Now."

His words settle in your brain, but become completely overshadowed by the picture your eyes are witnessing. Your gorgeous lover looks so ethereal. Blond silky hair is a bit messy, not held by clips, yet it only adds to his natural charm; ruby eyes glint beautifully as he steps closer to your table; strong arms cross on his bared chest, and you just can't help but ogle at how his muscles move. The only thing that spoils the visage is a deep scowl on his face.

"I can't. Not yet, pretty," you softly murmur, reaching for the scrolls to roll some of them. "See, I just have a small topic to review and that's it-"

"And for how long have you been on this topic?" An elegant arch of his brow and your face falls, telling him enough.

"Knew it."

The embarrassed expression appearing on your face and eyes casted downwards do not escape his sharp gaze. He might be just out of bed, but his profession taught him early on how to be observant and attentive to details. Kaveh sighs and resumes his walking to you.

You hear him stop by your side, nervously fidgeting with a scroll still tightly clutched in your hands. You feel slightly ashamed right now, for two reasons. First is quite easy to guess - getting caught in this state right after you nagged your boyfriend for months to start leading a healthier lifestyle and stop working till the latest hours of the night (sometimes well into the morning). And second is from feeling the weight of his gaze on you and understanding that he is worried and you are the reason for that (though you do both share the desire to kick Alhaitham's ass, since partially it’s his fault too).

But all the thoughts are wiped out of your mind when long fingers grab your chin and lift your head, tilting it back. The flash of gold, the gleam of red, and the next moment his soft lips are on yours. You melt. Fingers relax and you hear something bump your leg and then fall with a knock on the floor. Though Kaveh is quick to steal your attention, catching your hand and squeezing it, breaking the kiss just for a moment to breathe and then kissing you again. The room starts spinning.

"Kaveh…" you meekly whisper in between rushed and hot kisses, feeling your heart flutter by the way he stares deep into your eyes, before pressing his lips to your jaw.

"Come to bed with me," he urges you again, thumb rubbing over your knuckles, brushing back and forth, while more pecks are placed on your rosy cheeks.

"But-" is silenced with another kiss. Sweet whimpers form in your throat and your lover is happy to swallow them, releasing your hand and reaching for the back of your chair instead. You gasp when the piece of furniture is yanked and dragged farther from the table, giving him enough room to get in-between.

The man relishes the hazy look in your eyes, as you are looking up at him, knowing just what he is doing to you. Hovering, with palms planted on the armrests and leaning in. Oh, he loves how your gaze flickers from his face to his chest and back, which means he is actually distracting you and effectively so.

"What was that?" A smooth chuckle sends a jolt through your body and suddenly there is a tingling sensation in your core. "A 'but'-something? No, no, my lovebird, I need you to stop rationalizing everything. I want you to stop thinking. Yeah, that's right, just no thoughts and no worries about those stupid examinations. And," his gaze slides down and stops on the belt of a bathrobe you've put on after the shower, not caring to dress properly, "I might know just how to help you. Tell me, lovebird," he leans even closer, noses almost touching and lips brushing just briefly, "are you wearing anything under this?"

You swallow a lump in your throat and fidget in your seat. The excitement rising in your system becomes quite obvious.

"Ah, no, I figured-"

"Good… Means it'll be easier for me," and the next thing he does makes blood rush to your cheeks. He draws himself back and, kicking the fallen scroll somewhere to the side, drops onto his knees before you. Strong arms flex when he moves the chair closer and you jolt forward from the sudden motion, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself.

“No, no, my love, I need you to lean back,” his hand is gentle, pressing flatly against your chest, and pushing you back against the chair. You bite your lip, when long elegant fingers hook the hem of it, and teasingly tug to the side, then the other half. The material slides down your shoulders, baring your collarbones and not falling further only due to the plumpness of your heaving chest. Kaveh absolutely loves the view before him - if he was to build a temple in your honor, he’d capture this state of yours in one of the staining glasses. He leans closer.

Your head tilts back, when his hot lips press between your soft mounds.

“Mmm… You are so beautiful… I can’t believe this smart, and sweet and gorgeous woman is mine,” he slightly turns his head and sucks on the left breast.

“Kave- aah!” You whimper, arching into him, the material threatening to slip and bare more of you. Your legs twitch and wrap around his torso, urging him to press even closer to you. Archons, you were so caught up in your preparation, that you completely ignored your body’s urges, no wonder it's reacting to his igniting touches like this. When was the last time you let your lover have you under him like this, squirming and moaning?

“Uh-uh-uh,” he clicks his tongue, palm sliding up your hip, and burying itself under the lower half of the bathrobe, grabbing your curve. “I can clearly sense you are still thinking, and I don’t want it. Come on, baby, the faster you let me wipe all thoughts out of your head, the faster we’ll be in bed enjoying that nice sleep you’ve been pestering me with for almost a year.”

“I was worried for you- mmh!” The blond-haired tempter makes use of his free hand, groping your barely clothed right breast, brushing his thumb over the stiff nipple. The teasing touch and the pressure it provides through the thin material sends another jolt right to your cunt and your legs clench even harder in an attempt to close your thighs and rub them, failing to do so with his body in-between.

“I know you did, and I am worried for you now too. You are exhausting yourself. But don’t worry, I am here to help you relax and give yourself a break. Now, before I start executing my plan to make your mind numb, why don’t you untie this knot for me?”

Through the settling fog in your head, you will yourself to concentrate on what he requires of you. If before you still had that tiny slither of understanding that you are not done with the topic yet, now it’s right out of the window. Because how can you fight, when Kaveh looks at you like this?

So your fingers reach to the loose knot, twisting and pulling it, until two ends of the belt are held separately in your hands. The kiss your boyfriend presses to the inside of your wrist makes you shiver.

“Good girl…” He murmurs in a sultry voice, and you almost whimper from two words alone. He takes your hands and let them rest on the armrests, while he is all too happy to finally open the robe and leave you completely bare to him. And the sharp inhale he takes when he does it? You feel how you are leaking.

“Archons, you are so beautiful. I love everything about you,” a tiny moan escapes your throat, when he straightens more, reaching for your neck, sliding his naked torso right between your trembling thighs. “I love the way your neck meets your shoulders…” There is instantly a kiss right in the crook where your neck descends in your shoulder. “And here, these pretty collarbones,” he trails his kisses lower. “I love the curve of your breasts, mmm,” more kisses are spared for your tender flesh, “and your hard nipple too,” he gives it a slow lick, dragging his wet muscle over the stiff bud, and you moan again. “Oh, but I can't forget about the other one. I have to play with both of them equally, can’t show favorites, right?” 

Before you can even answer his mouth envelopes your other nipple and gives it a soft suck, and then one more, and one more, and-

To his delight your consciousness is slowly slipping into pleasure. Good, he hums in content, switching back to the previously saliva-coated bud, - means you’ll indeed fall asleep in a bed tonight, and not crouched in your chair over the working desk.

You gasp when he grabs your legs right under your knees and forces them away from his body, spreading them and then quickly placing them on his shoulders. Oh heavens, your face heats, as you realize what this position is. Your pussy should be on full display for him right now. 

It turns you on even more.

“Mmm, someone’s getting wiggly,” he chuckles, sensually kissing the insides of your thighs. “That’s my pretty girl, so excited and accepting of everything I am giving her. Why don’t you play with your tits, while I am eating this gorgeous wet pussy out, mm? I want you to toy with yourself, while my face is buried right in your heat, can you do it for me?”

“What..? I- oooh, yes, I-I can… Please.”

Shit, and here the man was trying not to get a boner pleasing you. But, he has to remind himself, your pleasure is his top priority right now.

Before you can even touch your chest, his tongue is already lapping on your wet entrance. You flush up to your ears, when Kaveh moans in your sex, kissing, and sucking, and slurping, making obscene noises with how messy he is devouring you.

“That’s it, ah, that’s my lovebird. Yeah, just take my tongue, mhm, feel like it’s filling you, mmm… You like it, right?”

"Yes-!" You grab your breasts, arching even more in his awaiting mouth, only to scream when he harshly sucks on your clit.

"Mmm, so good, so pretty…" He mumbles in your pussy, giving your bundle of nerves another suck and releasing it with a wet pop. Next he presses the tip of his tongue into it, teasing with fast strokes, making you squirm in your seat. And your thighs trying to clamp around his head - Archons, he loves your thighs. He wants more.

The slurping sounds reach your ears and go straight to your core, walls clenching around nothing, and Kaveh quickly deduces it.

"How about a finger baby, m? A finger in your tight wet cunt while I am marking these pretty thighs? Oh? Can't answer? Good."

You want to, you really do, but when one digit enters you and feels right at home, snug between your walls, words have no way to form. You can only moan and pant, as your lover kisses and sucks on the tender skin of your inner thighs, all the while mercilessly fingering you. You want to tell him you love him, you appreciate him, you want more of him, but you can only look at him with pleading eyes. And when he lifts his burning gaze and your eyes meet? You know he can read all of it behind the haze in your glazed over orbs.

"I love you too, lovebird," he murmurs, planting another kiss on your thigh, "love you so much. That's why I am making sure you are going to rest, yeah? Gotta make you cum," another finger slips inside and you have to break eye contact, throwing your head back, when he curls them against that delicious spot inside, "gotta force the stress out of your system, can't have my love so tired and worried."

"Ka… veh…" You manage through your lovely moans, and the man curses right against your swollen clit. He can't help it, when the only thought on your mind is him. Oh, how much he adores you. Maybe it's not the most logical thought to have when you are knuckles deep in your woman's cunt, tongue toying with her clit, but he suddenly returns to the thought of marrying you. Once you settle in your new position, when he says 'goodbye' to that debt of his and can purchase you the prettiest ring… To ask you the question he's been meaning to for years, but then having to put the event aside due to one financial obstacle. Yeah, that sounds so right. Something about eating his wife out to help her distress makes him lose his mind and practically suffocate himself between your thighs, crashing his head. You are so close, you must be so damn close.

"Come on, cum for me, love. Cum for me, cum, cum cum-"

"KavEH-!"

When you scream and roll your eyes back, the man takes his fingers out and stuffs you with his tongue instead. Long lashes flutter and eyelids slide close as he tongue-fucks you through your earth-crashing orgasm, feasting on your juices and inhaling such a familiar scent of your natural musk. It truly feels like it’s been so long, maybe he should take you to bed like this more often. Say, every day until you pass that stupid examination as a starter. Yeah, that's perfect.

The blond takes a breath sharply when your legs relax, no longer sandwiching his head between them and stifles a couple of coughs, having no desire to worry you with his well-being. After all it is about you, he'd hate to steal the center of attention even for a second.

Going limp, you close your eyes and try to regulate your breathing. Your chest is heaving and your consciousness is slowly returning to the body. You can feel soft kisses trailing over your stomach and up to your chest, lingering on your wildly beating heart, soothing it with tender murmurs, nose nudging against the sweat-covered skin.

Kaveh is as breathless as you are, and you spend a few moments like this - pressed close, with limbs loosely wrapped around each other. You feel so contently exhausted and the warmth of your lover's body against yours provides additional comfort you've been secretly yearning for.

His palms press into the small of your back, slowly caressing, while your fingers bury in his silky locks, running through them, massaging his scalp almost absentmindedly, and Kaveh smiles in your chest, satisfied with your clearly relaxed state.

“Love?” You softly call for him, and the man hums, lifting his head to face you. Archons, the dreamy look suits you so magnificently. “Thank you. You caring for me really means a lot.”

He smiles widely, drawing his body back and carefully putting one foot on the floor, pushing his palms against the armrests and slowly getting on both feet, straightening and rolling shoulders. The legs feel a little bit stiff and he can feel numbness spreading, but he chooses to ignore it. Leaning in again instead, he places a sweet kiss on your slightly swollen lips. There is still some of your essence coating his, making a tiny flame flicker in your lower stomach.

“Of course, my lovebird,” he nudges his nose against yours, hands rubbing your shoulders to work a little on the knots you got there from your ever-sitting position. “It’s nice to see the crease between your eyebrows disappear along with the overall exhaustion practically written all over your face.”

You do not fight the smile when he says those kind words. And he is right - you feel so much better.

“So…” he muses, drawing the bathrobe up your arms and over your shoulders. “Can I take you to bed now?”

To that you chuckle, reaching your limbs to wrap around him.

“Well… Wasn’t that the initial plan?”

[aspenmissing]

𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚐-𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 (𝙿𝚝 𝟸)

Inside the motel room, Y/N is typing on the laptop while Dean sits on the bed. Sam then enters.

"What's up?" Y/N asks.

"That girl Lanie, her mom’s ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night," Sam answers.

"That sucks," Dean says.

"Yeah, it does," Sam agrees, then looks to Y/N. "What are you doing?"

"I think Dad's right. I think the demon is here," Y/N stands up. "Check it out." She hands Sam some papers and goes to her bag. Dean gets up and joins Sam.

"What is this, weather reports?" Sam asks as Dean takes the papers.

"Omens. Demonic omens. Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks."

"Ahh...I don't remember any lightning storms," Dean says.

"Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology as a kid either. But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me...wearing some poor dude's meat," Y/N says.

"And it's following you because..."

"I guess I'm big game, you know. My ass is too sweet to let out of sight."

"Okay. Sure," Y/N grabs the papers back.

"Don’t get too excited, Guys. Might pull something," Y/N says.

"Theo, look, we wanna believe this, man," Dean says, gesturing to himself and Sam. "We really do..."

"Then believe it! If we get this sucker, it's Miller Time," Y/N says enthusiastically.

"Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon?" Sam says. "I mean not just send it back to hell, but kill it?"

"I've checked it out. This is heavy-duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century," Y/N explains.

"Yeah, Sam's checked on it too, Theo. So did Bobby, hell, even I checked it out," Dean adds.

"Okay, and?" Y/N asks.

"Look. It definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon," Sam explains.

"No evidence it can't," Y/N says confidently.

"Come on, man..." Dean says.

"Hey, as far as I'm aware, the only one of us who has actually been to hell is Dad," Y/N says. "And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work."

"Maybe it does. I hope it does too, but we gotta be sure," Dean says.

"Why aren't we sure?" Y/N asks.

"'Cause I don't know what's going on around here, Dean! I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits," Sam explains.

"Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, Sam, people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!" Y/N and Sam stare at each other for a long moment. Sam sighs and Y/N drops her head in frustration.

"Dad tell you where to find the demon?" Dean asks.

"I'm waiting on the call!" Sam sighs.

"I told Laine I'd stop by."

"Oh, good yeah," Y/N says sarcastically. "No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile, I'll be here getting ready to, you know, save my life." Sam keeps moving towards the door. "You're unbelievable, you know that? I mean for months we've been trying to break this demon deal. Now Dad's about to give us the freaking address and you can't accept it? The man is dead and you're still butting heads with the guy!"

"This is not what this is about," Sam protests.

"So, what is it?" Y/N demands.

"The fact is we've got no hard proof here, Y/N. After everything, you're still just going on blind faith!" Sam says.

"Yeah, well maybe! You know, maybe that's all I got, okay?" They stare at each other again before Y/N looks down.

"Please. Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay, Y/N? Please," Sam pleads. Y/N remains silent. Sam shakes his head and turns for the door.

"Dean," Sam stops, as Dean turns to face Y/N. "Go with him." They were about to protest. "Please. Just go with him. I need some time to think." Sam looks over at Dean, nodding. Y/N watches them go and continues staring at the door for a long moment. She shakes her head and moves to sit heavily at the table.

==

In Lanie's bedroom, Dean and Sam are standing in front of Lanie, who is close to tears.

"Have you told your father about any of this?" Dean asks.

"And bother him at work? No. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy," she replies.

"So, what did your mother say?" Sam asks.

"She wanted to see me. So, at first, I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery."

"Did you?" Dean asks. Lanie nods.

"Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do things."

"What sort of things?" Sam asks with a frown.

"Bad things," she answers, tears in her eyes.

==

Simon sits playing at his table. The phone rings and Simon looks over at his toy telephone sitting on the floor then walks over to it. The display reads SHA33.

"Hello? Simon Greenfield speaking. Hi Mommy. Yeah, I wanna see you. Where are you?"

==

Later, Y/N sits at the table staring at nothing. Her phone rings, and she snatches it up.

"Dad?" Y/N asks.

"Y/N."

"Where's the demon?"

==

Lanie turns around, facing away from the two.

"Lanie, please. Tell us what happened, it's very important," Sam says. Lanie turns to face them, tears falling.

"Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet."

"And?" Dean asks.

"She wanted me to take his sleeping pills, take all of his sleeping pills." Dean and Sam share a look of shock.

"She wanted you to kill yourself?" Lanie nods, covering her mouth with her hands, crying.

"Why would my mom want me to do that?" She asks.

"I don't know," Sam says.

"I mean, just so I could come to her?" Sam and Dean snap their heads to share a glance before looking back at Lanie.

"What'd you say?" Dean asks.

"She wanted me to come to her."

"No, how'd she say it?"

""Come to me." Like a million times." Dean and Sam share another look.

"Lanie," Sam says, "That's not your mother."

==

Y/N pulls up to a house and gets out. She grabs her weapons bag from the trunk, looks around, and moves towards the house.

==

"Listen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless we say to, all right?" Dean says. The brothers start down the stairs and realize Lanie's not following.

"Lanie," Sam says. Lanie stands in a doorway.

"Where's Simon?" She asks, looking at the boys worriedly.

==

Y/N quietly enters the house and moves down the hallway, listening. A floorboard creaks on the second floor.

"Rule one if entering a house. Never let them know you're there," she mutters. "Knowing Dean, he would have replied." Y/N drops a rosary into a large bottle of water. She then pulls back a rug and shakes a paint can before spraying a devil's trap on the floor.

==

Sam and Dean are driving down the road as Dean calls Y/N, placing it on speaker. She answers seconds later.

"Yeah?"

"Y/N, it's not Dad," Dean says.

"Then what is it?" Y/N asks.

"A crocotta," Sam answers.

"Is that a sandwich?" Sam shares a confused look with Dean, knowing Y/N is good at her supernatural beings.

"Some kind of scavenger. Mimics loved ones, whispers 'Come to me', then lures you into the dark and swallows your soul," Dean explains.

"A crocotta, right, damn, that makes sense," Y/N says.

"Y/N, look, we're sorry, man," Dean says, "we know..." He's cut off by Y/N.

"Hey, don't these things live in filth?" Sam and Dean share a look of confusion.

"Yeah," Sam replies.

"Guys, the flies at the phone company."

==

Sam and Dean creep along an alley and peek in a window at Stewie, sitting at his console.

"Sammy, I don't wanna walk on this guy. I mean, you saw what he was watching when we met him. He could be busy," Dean whispers, looking at Sam. Sam returns a grimace. "What? Sorry I don't wanna see his d—" The two are distracted by a banging noise and turn to look at the source. They look back to see Stewie leaving the room. Sam and Dean run back up the alley. Later, Stewie leaves the building. Sam and Dean hide behind a van, Sam holding his phone to his ear.

"This is Penny Munster. Leave a message," Y/N's voicemail says.

"Theo, we're in the parking lot. He's here. Hurry," Dean says, seeing Sam wanting to run up to Stewie.

"I say we wait for Y/N. We don't know how many of them there are," Sam looks at Dean, shaking his head. Stewie unlocks his car, and Sam rushes him, pushing him into the car and holding a metal spike to the back of his neck.

"What the hell!" Stewie grunts.

"I know what you are," Sam says.

"Wait, mister," Stewie tries to turn, but Sam pushes him against the car harder.

"And I know how to kill you," Sam threatens.

"Please. Okay, wait, wait. If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something, I... I can fix that. I am your friend!" Sam looks confused. "Please. Please just don't kill me!" The manager from earlier sneaks up behind Sam. "Don't kill me, please!"

"Sam, behind you!" Dean shouts. Before Sam can turn around, the manager hits Sam over the head with a bat. Sam slumps to the ground. Dean runs up, gun in hand, and is about to shoot before the bat makes contact with the gun, knocking it out of his hands. "Son of a bitch." The manager then hits Dean over the head, rendering him unconscious beside Sam. Stewie turns around, sees the manager, grins, and starts bouncing up and down. "Yeah! That's what happens when you mess with the phone company, dillweed!" He looks to his manager. "Thank you, Clark!" Clark lifts the bat again.

"Forget about it."

"Clark?" Clark smashes Stewie with the bat.

==

Inside the Phone Company Basement, Stewie, Sam, and Dean are tied to chairs.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I'm sorry for whatever I did to you. I'm sorry... please," Stewie snivels. Sam and Dean begin to come to.

"Wait! Don't do it!" Sam says.

"He's got nothing to do with it," Dean says.

"You two are awake," Clark says. He leans over Stewie and places the tip of a knife against his thigh.

"You're not a killer, Clark, no! There's a good man inside of you, I know it," Stewie pleads.

"What do you think, boys, am I a good man?" Clark asks, looking to Sam and Dean.

"Just let him go," Sam pleads.

"I would. I really would. If only I'd had more than a salad for lunch. You see, I'm starving," Clark says. He lifts the knife high above his head and plunges it into Stewie's chest.

"No!" Sam and Dean shout. Clark moves in front of Stewie's body. His mouth opens, revealing a blood-red interior and razor-sharp spikes. He crouches slightly, holds Stewie by both shoulders, and unhinges his jaw, his mouth becoming impossibly wide. Placing his mouth close to Stewie's face, he sucks in his energy. Sam and Dean shudder and look away. Clark then stands up, wiping his mouth.

"Our last call with Y/N. That was you. You led us here," Sam says. "I knew she would know what a crocotta was."

"Some calls I make; some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap," Clark laughs and moves over to the telephone exchange cabinet. He places his hands against the glass and leans back in ecstasy.

"What are you doing?" Dean asks.

"I'm killing your sister. Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes," Clark says.

==

In a Police Locker Room, a man's phone rings as he finishes changing. He looks at the number, glances over at the other person in the room, and answers.

"Hello?" The man says softly.

"Hi Daddy," a little girl's voice says through static.

"Hey baby. I thought you said you weren't gonna call anymore."

"I know, Daddy."

"You know how sad this makes your old man," he says. "How upset I was at your funeral."

"I had to call; I know who killed me Daddy."

"What?"

"The woman who killed me, she's at the house right now."

"What are you saying to me?" The man asks, shocked.

"She's at the house Daddy, she wants to kill you too!" Hanging up the phone, the man's face becomes set in stone.

==

Clark pulls the knife out of Stewie's chest.

"You know, mimicking Y/N's one thing. But our Dad," Dean says. "That's a hell of a trick."

"Well, once I made you three as hunters, it was easy," Clark pushes Stewie out of the way, his chair hitting the door. "I found Y/N's number, then your numbers, then your father's numbers," Clark explains, walking towards the two. "Then emails, voicemails, everything." Clark crouches in front of Sam, pointing the knife at Sam. However, Sam is secretly winding the wires from around their wrists. "You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked."

"Y/N's not going to fall for this," Sam says, smiling smugly. "She's not going to kill that guy."

"Then the guy kills her."

==

Car headlights shine across the window into the room where Y/N waits. She silently moves toward the hallway as a car door slams. Y/N removes the lid from the bottle of holy water. She hears a noise toward the back of the house and frowns, moving down the hallway toward the back door. She pauses, then looks from the back to the front door.

The back door slams open, and the man appears, raising a rifle and firing. Y/N leaps out of the way, dropping the bottle of holy water. The Man begins reloading. Y/N glances at the holy water, it is draining away. She waits to hear the bullet shell being removed and runs for the man, using her forward movement to slam him back into the wall. She hits him a few times, then knees him viciously. Letting him drop, Y/N moves toward the rifle but the man follows, grabbing Y/N and slamming her backwards onto a table. He gets in a few hits before Y/N headbutts him. As the man falls backward to the ground Y/N kicks him in the stomach. She kicks him four times, pauses, then kicks him once more, even more viciously, grunting as she does so.

"Son of a bitch," she mutters.

==

Clark begins pacing around the room.

"Technology..." He uses the knife to pull a piece of Sam's hair out of his face. "Makes life so much easier." He circles around Sam and Dean. "Used to be I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night." He stops to stand in front of Sam and Dean but facing Sam. "But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year. Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call." Clark sneers. "You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone." Clark opens his mouth and begins to unhinge his jaw while raising his knife.

"I think to fuck not," Dean says, kicking Clark in the shins. While Clark looks to Dean, Sam has managed to escape his ties, his wrists bloody. He erupts out of the chair, and they fall to the ground, Clark losing the knife. They struggle for it, Sam rising first. Clark grabs Sam's jacket and swings him around into a metal grate. Clark picks up the knife, running at Sam. "Sam! Dammit!" Dean begins to wind the wires from around his bloody wrists, desperate to help his brother.

==

Y/N and the man slam through a glass door, the man becoming groggy. Y/N quickly reaches for the man's belt, pulling out a handgun, flicking the cartridge out and tossing it aside. As the man struggles to get to his feet, covered in glass, Y/N pulls back the rug, showing the devil's trap sprayed onto the floor. She turns away, pulling the exorcism out of her pocket. The man, confused, stares at the markings on the floor.

"What is this?" He asks.

"Your funeral," Y/N begins the exorcism in Latin. The man glares at her and slowly moves forward out of the circle.

"You do this to my daughter too?" Y/N stares at the devil's trap.

"How the hell did you get out?" She asks.

"Did you do this to my daughter too?!" The man shouts.

"Wait, this is a mistake."

"You killed her!!"

"No, wait," the man leaps at Y/N.

==

Sam and Clark struggle for the knife, exchanging blows as they move about the room. Dean manages to get out of his restraints finally and pulls the knife away, hitting Clark, forcing him backwards into the wall. A spike, one of many on a corkboard, jams into the back of Clark's neck, killing him. Dean watches as Clark chokes on his blood before turning to Sam, breathing heavily.

"You alright?" Dean asks. Sam nods. Dean looks back to Clark. "You’re a son of a bitch!"

==

The man falls on Y/N as she lies on the ground, laying onto her.

"She was 9 years old!"

"Stop!" Y/N shouts. "I didn't! You gotta believe me!" The man keeps hitting her. Y/N manages to twist around and grab the rifle, smacking the man in the forehead with the butt. He falls backward as Y/N rises, standing over him.

"Why did you kill her?" The man cries.

"I'm sorry. I didn't kill your daughter. I would never dream of killing a kid," Y/N says, looking at the man with sympathy.

"Then what are you doing here?" Y/N looks around.

"I don't know," Y/N says, anguished.

==

Back in the motel room, Y/N holds a facecloth to her cut eye, groaning. Sam and Dean enter the room and come to the door of the bathroom.

"I see they improved your faces," Y/N says, smirking. Sam and Dean snigger.

"Right back at ya," Dean says. Y/N moves past Sam and Dean into the main room, pulling up a chair to the beds while Sam and Dean sit on them.

"So, crocotta, huh?"

"Yep," Sam says.

"That would explain the flies."

"Yeah, it would," Dean agrees. "Hey, um...look we're sorry it wasn't Dad," Y/N huffs.

"Nah, I gave you two a hell of a time on this one..."

"Ahh," Dean says.

"You were right," Y/N says.

"Forget about it," Sam says.

"I can't. I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just..."

"Yeah," Sam says softly.

"I'm scared, guys," Y/N says, tearing up. "I'm really scared."

"We know," Dean says, as he and Sam also tear up.

"I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate woman."

"There's nothing wrong with having hope, Y/N," Sam says.

"Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know. I mean the only person that can get me out of this thing is me."

"And us," Sam says, earnestly.

"And me?" Y/N says.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Deep revelation, having a real moment here, that's what you come back with? And me?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

"Uh...do you want a poem?" Sam asks.

"The moment's gone..." Sam and Dean smile slightly. Y/N flicks the TV on while Dean reaches between the beds, grabs three bottles of beer and holds two out to Sam and Y/N without looking at them. Sam and Y/N take one, they crack them open and drink in unison, while staring at the TV.

==

Later that night, Y/N is sat on the chair, staring into darkness with a beer in hand. She thinks for a bit before going over to Sam's bed, sitting on the edge. She places her hand on his head, gently rubbing.

"When you were born, I made a promise. That I will always be there for you, and I'll always protect you. I said even when I'm old and wrinkly, I'll use my walking stick to beat some asses" Y/N gently laughs at the thought. She brushes a piece of hair away from Sam's face "But I need you to promise me something. You may not hear me, but I know you'll know. When I'm gone, when I'm buried 6 feet underground" Y/N looks over at Dean, smiling sadly before back at Sam.

"Look after your stupid brother because he'll need it. He'll need you more than ever. And I know that it may be tough at first, but it's Dean what do you expect" She leans down, smiling "I love you, so, so much, Sammy. You and your brother are my whole life, and I would do anything to protect you" She kisses his head softly, she holds for a couple of seconds before pulling away. She stands up and walks to Dean's bed, pulling up the covers "Good dreams, okay De. " She sits back in the chair she was sat in previously, drinking her beer.

[postalenha]

on and off % jake

pairing: playboybf!jake x reader genre: angst, fluff, lovers to exes, exes to lovers idek word count: 1.89k words requested: yes / prompt 14, “we called it off again last night.” / 18, “it’s been you all along.” / 19, “for the first time, i had something to lose.” synopsis: immaturity isn't needed in a relationship, but that seems to be jake's and your's specialty. warnings: curse words, mentions of drinking, throwing up, su!cide, toxic relationship, making out

"i thought you're going with jake today?" sunghoon asked as you hop into his car.

you rolled your eyes at the thought of riding in the same vehicle as the boy, "no, we called it off again last night."

"again?!" the boy exclaimed, "y/n, that's probably the nth time you guys called it off." he sighed in disbelief, "that's not how relationships work." he commented.

judgingly looking at his way, "yeah? like you know any better?"

"shut up." he started the engine, "this isn't about my love life."

"whatever." you blurt out, "i guess being bad at handling relationship runs in our blood." you jokingly said, as your cousin laugh.

he tilt his head smiling, "damn, of all things that can be passed down, that's what we got."

"well, at least we got good looks. that works as a payoff." he added. you agreed at him with a nod, "anyway." you changed the subject.

"i'm planning on ending it with jake." you stated. he looked at you, "no shit, you sure?" he assured, "to be honest, whatever makes you happy." he added, looking like he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"don't apologize." you led before he could even say sorry for insisting that you should date his best friend, sim jaeyun.

"i'm not- okay whatever." he almost want to deny the urge but he saw you looking at him with a teasing face, "i just feel a little responsible for all the stress this relationship have caused you." he scratch the back of his head, as you slap his arm.

"shut up, dating him was my decision. you don't have to blame yourself for all the bad decisions i made for myself. i'm an adult now." you told him.

parking his car he nod his head, "okay. just remember i'm here if things are bad, okay?"

"okay." you said, before going out of his car. walking at the corridor of your building, trying to see if jake arrived earlier than you today.

and he certainly did. there he is on his designated seat beside the window, silently watching as the wilted leaves fall down from the tree.

the clock ticks time faster than you expected and your professor came in, not able to call out for jake's name to even talk to him.

sitting down to a chair, you told yourself that you'll talk to him later. and here you are, in front of jake sim at the rooftop of your university's main building.

it might be your lucky day for no one else is here but the two of you. this place is usually cramped with so many people and miraculously today isn't one of those days.

this may be one of the many signs sent from above that this relationship should end as it wasn't right from the beginning.

your blood boils as your cousin sunghoon pushes you into the table of his friend group, "come on! you wouldn't lose anything! he just want to talk to you." he shouts.

"then tell him i don't want to!" you shout back a little annoyed. the last thing you want to do tonight is talk to the famous serial dater, jake sim. "for i know, he just wants the best out of me!"

"come on! jake's not like that!" he defended his friend. to be honest, sunghoon is the last person you should be ranting to. for he is just like his friend, they play with girl's hearts for fun.

you rolled your eyes as you reach the table of ego. the decision of naming that wasn't yours, but the other students. they called this the table of ego because everyone in here got some solid ego. heeseung, jay, sunghoon, jake. all of them.

"y/n! you actually came!" heeseung cheered as soon as he saw you, he scooted a little bit on his right to leave some space between him and jake, "come sit!"

sitting beside him was probably one of the decisions you will forever regret in your life. the memory of that night was a blur. you barely recall anything that happened then.

the only thing that you remember was when jake was reaching for a kiss, you accidentally threw up on him before passing out.

the next day, he told you to be his girlfriend to compensate with the mess you gave his brand new shirt. you said yes just so he could shut up, telling yourself you'll break up with him after a day or two.

two months then passed and you are just breaking everything now. well, it's better late than never. you just didn't expect that he would actually be a good boyfriend.

he's mostly good, not until everything gets complicated even with nothing. you fight over the smallest thing like, not being able to respond to each other's text to someone getting jealous.

it wasn't the best relationship you've been in but it was a good experience. you learned so much and now, it's time to move on.

"what is it that you wanted to say?" jake impatiently snapped you back into reality. you swallowed a good amount of saliva before saying, "let's break up."

it was better to say it forward than beating around the bush. with this, more time and energy will be saved. because even if you give him an explanation he probably won't listen.

he slowly blinked and sighed, looking away he said "okay. if that's what you want." see. he wouldn't even bother asking you why.

well, if you get things easy. they would also go easily, "okay. it was fun meeting you." you head out, leaving him there.

he most probably would not be so upset that he might think of jumping off the building, but you still prayed that he wont.

and he didn't. you can guarantee that as you see that three weeks later jake sim is with a woman walking the same isle as you are. the chances of you seeing him here at this huge mall was small, but never impossible.

you grabbed your friend's hand trying to hide from the sight of the man, "what are you doing-"

"shut up, jake is here." you told here looking at their way, walking into a clothing store. you hurriedly go and sit at a restaurant far from them and ordered food when your friend speak up.

"y/n, what's the point of hiding now when you guys already broke up?" she patheticly looked at you who's trying to hide from a menu list.

putting the menu list down on the table, you crossed your arms, "i am not hiding from him. i simply don't want to involve myself with anything that has to do with him."

"yeah, like seeing him in a shopping mall involves you with him." she said with full sarcasm. "you have no idea how pathetic that sounded."

not listening to anything she said, you started eating your pasta. almost choking when you saw a familliar figure walk in the restaurant.

trying your best to lean down and not get noticed you hear your friend call, "jake!" you kick her feet under the table as you see jake wave back and walks closer.

"what the fuck did you just do?" you whispered at her, she just smiles like an idiot as jake reach your table.

"hello, jia." he greeted your friend, "hi, y'n."

flashing a fake smile, you said "hi." satisfied with how annoyed you are, jia announced "you guys can join us! we got two extra seats here."

"we don't want to intrude-" you cut him off, "yes, there are a lot of vacant tables. they sure can find their own, right?"

serving a glass of wine, a waiter says "oh, we're fully booked, ma'am. so if you want to eat here, you have to wait for another hour or so." he said pouring some on your glass. "if you'll excuse me."

"it would be rude if we don't invite you right? so join!" your friend cheered as the girl jake's with sit next to you.

taking a sip of your wine whenever jake helps the girl cut her steak, you became unaware of how drunk you are. "so, when did you meet jake?" you asked the girl.

to be frank, she was quiet the whole time. just sitting there, not saying a thing but a "thanks." whenever jake helps her with anything.

"you can't answer that? well can you tell me if you are able to use your hands to their purpose? like cutting off a steak or puring your own glass of wine?"

"y/n-" your friend tried to stop you. but you didn't listen. you just continued to blabber nonsense until jake grabbed your wrist to the bathroom.

shaking your hand off his grip you screamed at him asking, "why did you bring me here?!"

"y/n why are you being so rude?" he calmly asked you.

you sarcastically laughed, "i'm being rude? who's more rude when you're out here eating at the same table as your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend?"

"current girlfriend- y/n that's my cousin!" he tried to calm himself by breathing slowly, pushing the side of his mouth using his tounge "do you really think i could replace you that fast?"

the sudden question made you feel like someone cut off your tounge. because you mostly have answer for everything but this. his question caught you off guard.

"when you broke up with me, i never asked why. i knew you were tired and i don't want to exhaust you more." you hear his voice shake as he speak. "i was also tired and we both needed a break."

you looked straight at his eyes that are sparkling from moist done by the tears that he have been trying so hard to hold back, "but as time pass by, i felt more and more empty. there is a big mark of you in my heart that ever since you left, no one has ever filled."

"nobody could ever fit in, but you." cupping your face he also wipe your tears away. "i never felt that way before. it's like, for the first time, i had something to lose."

"jake, i-" it was as if you forgot how to compose a word. you never knew he felt the same way you did when you broke up with him.

maybe sunghoon was more of your cousin than he is jake's friend. because if jake only knew how many times you told sunghoon that you miss him, he would've came back faster than this.

he smiled pulling you into a hug, "it's fine if you don't feel the same way anymore. i understand that. but i just want you to know that i am not the douchebag you think i am."

pulling away from the hug, you see his eyes were bloodshot "sorry, the last thing i want to do is make you cry-" you pulled him into a kiss not letting another word out of his mouth.

running out of breath, you seperated his lips from yours. you widely smiled at him, "it’s been you all along."

kissing outside a three star restaurant's restroom isn't as ideal as other comeback stories, but you wouldn't ask for anything else. as long as you have jake in your arms, your heart is content.

[raineydays411]

So warm and tender

Tony Stark x Daughter!reader

A/n: Hello! finally the last part of Ember. I hope you guys like it and sorry for making y’all wait so long for the confrontation lol)

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

Y/n’s POV

“Aunt Pam?!” you say in shock as you stop struggling against the vine wrapped around your body.

“Y/n, is it really you?” your aunt said as the vine loosened its grip and gently lowered you on the ground. “ Where have you been? Everyone has been going crazy looking for you”

You don’t answer as you look at your aunt. You didn’t realise you missed her as much as you did but now all you want to do is throw yourself in her arms. So you did.Pam, sensing you needed comfort rather than an interrogation, wrapped her arms around you. “I missed so much my Petal.” 

With those five words, all the hurt and pain you bottled up came out. and you cried.

As you cried, your aunt looked at the girl she hasn’t seen in eight years, and wondered what she’s been going through and if she did the right thing by giving you to your father all those years ago.

“Petal, I think you need to explain what’s going on”

You look up and sniff, “ Yeah, i think an explanation is well in order.” and you tell her everything. From the years of being ignored by your father, your last argument, the two weeks you spent in captivity, and your new powers. 

“ And that’s when I found you.” You finish looking at the grim faces of Pam and the other woman, who now that you think about it looks really familiar. 

“Oh, you poor puddin’!” you found your face being squished between two ands and then you were comically pressed against a body in a tight hug. 

“Don’tcha worry bout a thing, me and Pammy will take care of everything, you just sit here and---”  This seems familiar...

“ Harley, I don’t think she can breathe.” “Oh right, now you remember, it the blonde woman who used to sneak into the apartment”. You think to yourself as you struggle to get loose from her grip. You hear someone snicker and see Danny looking at the commotion. 

“ Shut up Danny, where have you been?” You say, forgetting that you’re the only one who can see him. 

“Exploring, do you thing she could hug me like that too?” 

“ If you weren’t already dead, I’m sure they would kill you for that comment”

Pam and Harley look at each other in concern as it seems like you’re talking to yourself. 

“ Hey kid, if you’re gonna talk to yourself, try an’ do it when other people can’t see you, like me.”  The blonde says as if someone talking to themselves was a daily occurrence for her.  You explain that with your powers, you were basically dead and can speak and see other dead people. Hearing that, Pam’s expression darkened

“He let you die?” she said in a grim tone. All the vines and plants in the room started whipping around angrily as if they were looking for the person who wronged you. It was then when you realized it wasn’t your Auntie Pam who taught you how to plant petunias you were looking at, this was Poison Ivy. 

“ Men, you can never trust em’. Well, whadda say little flower, ya up for a little premeditated murder?” and that was the infamous Harley Quinn. 

“ It would’ve been nice to know that you’re related to scary criminals y/n....” Danny said in a fearful voice. And if you were being honest you just found out that your aunt Pam was also the Poison Ivy but to be fair you haven’t seen her since you were like eight. 

“I don’t want to kill him” you finally say. “ I don’t want anything to do with him. Nor his precious Spiderling.” The plants calm down as Ivy calmed down and was your aunt Pam again. “ What do you want to do?” she asks.

You think to yourself and say,” I want him to know how he made me feel, and then I want to stay with you.”  Your aunt and Harley froze when you said that. 

“Petal, there is nothing I want more than for you to stay with me again,” She started, “ But it isn’t safe for you to stay.” Your eyes started to water

“But I-I have powers now, I can defend myself! I won’t be any trouble, it’ll be like I’m not even here” At this point, anything was better than going back to being invisible. “Please...I don’t want to go back...” 

Hearing the desperation in your voice broke Pams, Harleys, and Danny's heart. Pam because this was the daughter of her closest friend. She vowed to protect you from anything the day you came to her after losing your mother. Seeing you like this just reminded her how she, in her mind, has failed you. Seeing you so desperate to get away from the man who broke your heart reminded Harley of herself. The nights she would sneak into the tiny apartment you shared with Pammy, in hopes of escape only to get drawn back with empty promises. So yeah, she had a small soft spot for you. And Danny, you were the only person who saw him after months of being invisible. He felt like he needed to help you in your mission to get your father regret ignoring you.

“Hey Pammy...maybe we should call him...” Harley started to suggest. 

“NO, I’d rather drink weed killer than go to that...orphan collector for help.” the red head spat. “ No. We’ll figure it out but she can stay here for now.”

Hearing that you had a place to call home now, gave you the motivation to go and confront your father. Not only for ignoring you, but for leaving you in that..cell for two weeks. He didn’t even attempt to look for you as far as you knew. You’d have thought at least one of the other Avengers would have came to save you. But no one came. After all those years, no one came.

“Y/n.. your eyes” Danny whispered, his cold hand touching your arm snapped you out of your mind. The neon glow of your eyes faded to your normal e/c. 

“ Aunt Pam, Harley is there any way you guys can get me to New York and back?” You ask, finally ready to confront your father. 

“ Well....” Harley say as with a smirk

~~~~~~~~~one terrifying ride on a stolen batplane later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving to New York you made Pam and Harley wait a few blocks away from the tower, as you really didn’t want the Avengers to find out your aunt was a wanted criminal. You “went ghost” as Danny like to call it and snuck into the Tower with ease. You then snuck into your room, seeing everything covered in a layer of dust as no one has been in there for over two weeks. You packed a bag and filled it with some clothes, books and a picture of you and your mother. You took that bag and walked to the door, looking around at the room that was both you prison and safe space. It was decorated with multiple trophies, medals, and ribbons all from the multiple sports and clubs you joined to impress your father. Not like that ever happened. Danny wander around looking at the multiple teams photos you had hung up.

“ You’re a volleyball girl?” he said, “ Huh. I’d never have had guessed.” 

You rolled your eyes as you finished packing. “ Hey I have a job for you.” you say turning to him. “ I need you to go to the control room and turn off the power for thirty minutes. Then turn it back on and come find me in the common room.”

“ Yes ma’am” Danny says, saluting and disappearing through the wall before he comes back. “Ummm, wheres the control room?” 

You roll your eyes and explain how to get to the control room and wait. When the lights go out and you’ll make your move. Your father would have to pass through the common room to get to the control room from his lab, which you assume he’ll be. There you’ll be waiting for him. 

The lights go out. It’s showtime.

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

Tony's POV

The team spent three more days searching for you. They followed every lead and half of the team even flew out to the building that collapsed an hour ago. Tony, Steve, and Natasha stood behind to look at more clues. It was a little past midnight, and both Steve and Natasha went to bed leaving Tony to tinker in his lab. Tony was making improvements to a certain spider suit as he thought about what his daughter said to him before she went missing.

“Sir, there seems to be someone in Y/--” FRIDAY started to say when the power cut out.

“FRIDAY??” Tony questioned as he walked out to check the control room, making sure to get his nano bracelet just incase. As he walked down the hallway he thought about waking up Steve and if he was brave enough to wake Natasha when he heard it.

“Hi daddy.”

Tony stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up in disbelief. The lights turned back on to reveal his daughter. Wearing a black halter top, spandex leggings, grey boots with elbow length gloves. She looked skinny, as if she hadn’t had a proper meal in the weeks she was gone. And for some reason the air was cold in the room. But there she stood.

‘Y/n” Tony said breathlessly. 

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

Y/n pov

As you wait for Tony to walk in,you look around the common room and reminisce. You think about the time when you first moved in, and you got lost trying to find the bathroom and accidently walked into Natashas room. YOu thought she was going to kill you but ended up walking you to the restroom and back to your room. Or when you made the volleyball team way back in eighth grade, and you ran home to tell your dad but ended up telling the whole team, who were rarely all together, and they all took you out to get ice cream, minus Tony. You had to admit, even though your dad didn’t pay attention to you, Nat and Steve did. As well as the whole team, but those two really became the parental figures in your life. That’s why it hurt when not even they came for you. Even they had forgotten you.

“Hi daddy” you said in a mocking voice. Your father stopped dead in his tracks, as he looked you over in disbelief.

“Y/n”, he said in a breathless voice. 

“Oh, you remember my name?” You say in an sarcastic tone. “ Didn’t seem like you did when you left me in a hydra cell for two weeks.” 

Hearing that you were a prisoner of Hydra made Tony’s blood freeze. 

“Hydra? Oh Y/N are you okay? What did they do to you?” He asked frantically as he walk towards you with the intent of checking if you were injured. You jerk away from him, avoiding his touch and say

“ Oh, I’m wonderful. Just so fucking fantastic. I was just experimented on and injected with various liquids that caused excruciating pain. No big deal” 

“ Y/n..we spent days trying to look for you. Me and the team--”

“You and the team what Tony? I was there for two weeks. TWO WEEKS I WAS POKED AND PRODDED. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.” You scream, anger filling your heart as you remember the agony you went through. You think about the scratches on the wall of the cells, the taunts from the guards, and screams of the undead.

“ You have no idea what I went through. What I’m going through.” You say, feeling your body grow colder as you lose control and start to shift. “ You don’t care about me. If I were Parker, you would have saved mem within SECONDS.”

“That's not true. Y/N you have no idea how much I love you.” Tony tries to say. He’s filled with the need to tell you everything he didn’t tell you before. “I know I haven’t always been the best father. Trust me I know that now. But if you give me a chance, I want to make everything right. Please.” 

You didn’t think it would go like this. In fact you were not at all prepared for Tony to say this. You expected to walk in on him continuing his life as normal, tinkering in his lab and such. You had always yearned to hear him say those words to you. But now, they just fill you with anger.

“You think you could just tell me what I want to hear and what? I’ll just act like nothing happened?? I know you’re not that stupid.” You spit, the room growing colder as you get angrier. “ It’s too late for all that Tony. I’m not the same girl i was two weeks ago.i won;t take it any longer.” 

“Y/n..your eyes” Tony says as he slowly starts to put his gauntlet bracelet on, realising that you are becoming a threat. 

“ Oh do you like them?”, You ask “ This is what happened when they injected me. I can also do this.” You shift, shades of blue taking over brown skin. Tony stared at you in awe and a bit of fear. 

“ Y/n this isn’t you. I know you’re angry but--” “ Isn’t me?” You interrupt.” You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m like. And even if you did the old me died in that cell. Literally I died” You and Tony stared at each other. and that's when you heard the doors open. Two sets of footsteps started rushing to the commotion. 

“Y/N some red head and beefy blonde are on their way” You hear Danny say as you realize you had to wrap it up. If anyone can convince you to stay, it’s Steve and Nat.

“ It doesn’t matter anymore Tony.” you say as you start walking to the window. “ I can’t stay here anymore. There’s nothing for me. You win. Peter can be the child you always wanted cause from now on, consider me dead.” and with that, you phase threw the window and let yourself fall, knowing that you won’t actually fall as you can fly. 

Tony freaks out and calls for his suit, only to see a blue blur shoot up and across the sky. Then he just sits there and stares. The footsteps reach the common room and he hears someone ask 

“ Stark..what was all the yelling. What's going on?” 

“she's gone” He says, and that's when he truly realizes his mistake. He became what he never wanted to become. He became his father. And now you were gone.

Taglist: @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

[bakubub]

In which racer!kuroo is your roommate, and seems to only like it when you treat his wounds... (word count: 1.9k)

Ngl quite proud of this one!!

Warnings: 18+, a whole lot of swearing, a whole lot of blood, innuendos and implied nsfw, reader almost vomits (NOT from pregnancy chill, I know we're all scarred but its going to be just fine) and if you're squeamish perhaps skip the scene where reader stitches his wound?

Also bit of a disclaimer: I am in NO WAY a med student and literally all of my knowledge is from movies and other fics... so if you acc know what to do in this situation this may be a torturous for you :D

All due credits go to @aikk00​ for this AMAZING fanart!!!!

I watch as my roommate enters the penthouse, once again scratched up and bleeding, covered in so much blood there is no possible way that it was all his- if it was he would not be standing.

I launch myself off the couch- where I was sitting for the past hour nervously waiting for his return- and slip my arm under his, supporting him as we inched towards the bathroom.

"I can do this by myself you know," he grumbles, his grimace revealing just how much pain he was actually in.

"Mhm, I'm sure you can. Just like you boiled that poor egg by yourself last week, hmm?" I say sarcastically, trying to keep my mind calm and clear, because oh my god it looks really bad this time...

"Oi, its not my fault it fuckin' exploded," he mutters, voice laden with pain.

"You put it in the microwave because 'the shitty water wasn't doing its job.' Of course it would explode," I say, gently seating him on the closed toilet seat and taking out my supplies that I unfortunately have become rather accustomed to using. He's made it a habit to get himself injured.

"Where's the injury?" I ask, setting down my half-empty bottle of antiseptic and box of bandages. He peels off his shirt, cringing at the pain it brought him as the fabric was stuck to the gash that went from his left pectoral down to the middle of his chest.

"Pissed off a bidder after winning a race, fucker took out a knife once he realised he couldn't beat me up," he huffs out, arrogance still lacing his tone even with sweat dripping down his brow as he leans the back of his head onto the tile wall behind him. His Adam's apple bobs down his bloodstained neck as he speaks, and I quickly look away, focusing on the injury at hand.

Not his blood soaked, but nevertheless well defined pectoral muscles, nor the abs that my hands occasionally brush up against and know how hard they really are, and definitely not the trail of black hairs that lead down, down, down...

"What's wrong, the view too hot to focus on the work at hand?" He asks suggestively, raising his pierced brow, even in this state.

I'm quick to reply, having gotten used to his flirtatious remarks from the second I moved into his penthouse, "nope can't even see the view from that massive head of yours. Not to mention your permanent bed head."

He huffs out a laugh, then proceeds to flinch from the pain it must have caused.

"Stop moving, idiot. You're going to exacerbate the cut!" I say, quickly grabbing a damp towel and beginning to clean up his abdomen, whilst simultaneously pressing another rag to his wound to stop the bleeding.

“At least you admit that there is a hot view,” he says in his low voice, gazing at me from his position.

I simply roll my eyes.

No falling in love. That was the deal we had made on the day he offered me a place to stay in exchange for my services as a maid and apparently, a nurse. I cook, clean and basically keep the house running while this moron goes out and acts like the idiot he is. In my defense, dorms are expensive as hell, and his penthouse is nearby. Plus, I don't have to pay rent. It's a win-win situation.

But the feelings stirring up inside my heart might just ruin the dynamic we have going on and simultaneously take out a whole lot of cash out of my pocket.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Once his skin isn't completely saturated in blood, and the wound has (thankfully) stopped bleeding, I add some antiseptic onto a make-up pad and begin to dab at his wound, earning winces and slight grunts from the massive man.

"The cut looks deep, Kuroo. You need to go to the hospital," I say, worry lacing my tone as my eyebrows crease and earn yet another huffing laugh.

"Do you want me to rot in prison for the rest of my life?"

I roll my eyes at his response, deliberately dabbing just a little harder which earns me a yelp and an attempted glare in my direction.

"First off, illegal street racing won't send you to prison for your entire life, just for like, half a year. Second, this wound needs stitches, and believe it or not, I'm not a fucking licensed medic. In fact, the only experience I have is with you!" I say, immediately regretting my choice of words as I wait for his remark.

"That's what she said," He says, chuckling at his own innuendo.

I sigh in frustration, pouring more antiseptic to make sure there was no chance of infection from whatever grimy ass knife stabbed him, and beginning to gently scrub the wound with a soft towel, so as to make sure there was no debris left in there.

"You're gonna have ta do it," he mutters, his hazel eyes boring into mine.

"I- I can't Kuroo, you can't possibly think-"

"Fine. I'll do it. Go get me a needle and thread," he states, struggling but nevertheless, sitting upright on the red stained toilet.

I stare at Kuroo in disbelief as he utters these words. Was he dumber than I thought? Does he have some sort of head injury too?

I examine his face and all I come up with is unnerving determination. I exhale out of my nose sharply, "fine, dammit. I'll sew your fucking wound shut."

I am extremely handy with a sewing needle and thread, used to really be into embroidery back when I had the time so...it should be fine.

He just shrugs, leaning his head back against the tiles and closing his eyes.

"Fucking asshole. Can't believe I'm saving your damn life," I mutter, leaving the bathroom to dig through my wardrobe for my sewing box and taking out a gold silk thread that I was saving for a special project.

Well, I guess that will never happen.

"Hey, I found some silk thread. It's literally known for its strength and durability in high temperatures, so it should work like a charm!" I say, walking back into the blood stained bathroom and trying to psych myself up.

He grunts in response. I sigh as I begin with mopping up the excess blood and sanitising the needle and thread before chucking on gloves.

I wipe the antiseptic over the wound once more, and examine it carefully.

Well, if his condition worsens, I can always knock him out and call an ambulance...

I decide, screw it, and thread the needle, pretending it was just another embroidery project.

It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I chant as I puncture his skin with the thin needle.

Kuroo gasps in pain, and I place a hand on his knee, telling him to suck it up and deal with it, half talking to him but also to myself.

To my surprise, he listens, stretching his head back once more and gritting his teeth.

"Don't do that, here put this in-between your teeth," I say, grabbing yet another towel and shoving it into his mouth.

He obeys as I continue to stitch. I feel my gag reflex kicking in as I think about how stitching skin feels as though I am stitching leather, it feels hard and tough while pushing the thin needle through.

Must hurt like a bitch.

Once I've completed my neat stitches down the wound, without vomiting, I tie it off as I would with any embroidery, and clean the area free of any remaining blood. After rubbing some antibacterial ointment over the gold stitches, I stick on a particularly large bandage over the wound and start tidying up.

"Thank you," Kuroo mutters, still seated on the toilet seat and practically panting for breath.

"Ah, the criminal knows his damn manners!! Now get up and get in the damn shower. You ruined my pristine bathroom!" I complain, putting the last of the materials away before walking to the door.

"Wait, I- I can't get up." I turn around and look at him incredulously as he utters his next few words, "will you... shower me?"

My eyes just about pop out of their sockets at his request. "Are you insane?! I'm not your mother, nor your wife! Call your pudding haired friend and tell him to come shower you!"

He shakes his head, a rare pleading look taking the place of his usual arrogant smirk, "Kenma's too lazy to shower himself, Y/n, please!"

I contemplated it for a moment. Sure, I've seen him naked before, accidentally of course, and so what if I have to scrub him clean. God knows he can't do it himself with that damn injury.

Fuck this shit.

"Fine, get up right now." I bark at him, leaving to change out of my blood soaked pjs into a pair of shorts and a tank.

"...I just said I can't."

---

"Ow, y/n, you're scrubbing too hard!" He complains, his exfoliating glove around my hand as I rub his toned back clean of any dead skin-cells and blood remains.

"But look how much stuff is coming off!" I say gleefully, enjoying this a little too much.

Kuroo, seated on the built-in bench in the open shower with his red boxers on, looks back to see the satisfaction dripping from my features.

"Are you secretly a sadist?" he whispers. In response, I begin to rinse off his raw back with hot water, causing him to screech like a cat.

"It burns, it burns-”

“Shut the fuck up, moron! It's 4 in the morning, you’re going to annoy our neighbours. I tried very hard to get in their good graces, and Mrs. Suzuki still doesn’t like me! She definitely thinks I’m some kind of hooker…” Kuroo laughs at this, and I can’t help but watch as his whole face brightens up from his usual emotionless expression. I find myself smiling in response.

I grab his expensive shampoo and pour some into my hands, beginning to massage it into his scalp. With wet hair, his raven strands are for once flat on his head and reach down to his defined jawline. Kuroo groans under my touch, leaning into my fingers. I snatch my hands back and pour hot water over his head.

"ARGH! Y/N!" He screams, hastily getting up and wetting me in the process.

"Ah- what are you-" I don't get to finish my question as he grabs my arm and yanks me next to him under the hot water, soaking my clothes and my hair.

"You asshole!" I screech as I reach up to pull his hair in defiance, but he only grabs my arm and hooks it around his neck, leaning down to look directly into my eyes.

Our noses brushing against one another, he mutters, "You look pretty with your hair wet and your shirt see through."

It takes me a moment to get past the compliment and to hear the perverted comment that he just uttered.

He sees my look of confusion and laughs, bends over, clutches his stomach and laughs, before bellowing in pain because of his injury.

Smiling smugly down at him as he grimaces, I force him to sit back down and continue massaging the shampoo into his hair, warning him that if he so much as moaned I would leave him in here, dripping wet and in pain.

"That's what he said," is his reply.

I smack his head in response.

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,325

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.

A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next ->

Chapter 1

I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it.  She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.

I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.

"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.

"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.

That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.

I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.

"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.

"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?

"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.

"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.

"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.

"And why the hell should that matter?"

"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."

"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."

"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.

"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"

"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."

"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."

"So, you admit that you hit me?"

"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.

"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"

"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.

"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."

"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."

"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."

"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?

"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.

We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.

"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."

Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.

"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.

"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?

"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.

"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.

"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.

"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."

"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.

"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.

Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.

"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.

"Um, chemistry."

"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.

Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.

"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.

"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.

"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"

"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."

"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."

"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."

"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."

"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."

After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac.  I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.

As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.

But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.

At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.

"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.

"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.

"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.

"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"

"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.

"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."

"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.

The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.

"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.

"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."

Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.

"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.

My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.

I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"

He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.

"Trespassing again?"

"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.

"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."

"Maybe." He grinned.

Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."

"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."

"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.

"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.

"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."

"No worries, maybe another time."

"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.

"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" I screamed back.

"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."

I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.

After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."

"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.

"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.

"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.

"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."

"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm.  Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.

The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.

"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.

"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.

"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.

"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.

"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.

Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?

Next ->

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Sticks and Stones - Chapter 7 [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Taglist is open, and now has an option to be tagged in this series - you can find the form here.

A/N - here is chapter 7! Lyrics are from Cover Me in Sunshine by Pink, which you can listen to here.

/// indicates change of perspective. Starts in Reader's POV.

This fic is a slow burn. Strangers to friends to very eventual lovers. Smut to come in later chapters but you will have to bear with it!

CW: slight degrading language, swears, mentions of abuse, mentions of BDSM, food talk, flirty Stella and a helpful Garcia.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

WC: 4.3K

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Chapter 7 - Cover Me in Sunshine

Cover me in sunshine,

Shower me in good times.

Tell me that the worlds been spinning since the beginning

And everything will be alright.

Cover me in sunshine.

I lasted two weeks in that house before I couldn’t take it anymore. It held too many memories of a life I was trying to escape.

I took the first apartment I found, a fairly spacious one bedroom place in a quieter suburb of DC.

I had money saved over the years from selling my designs and from my part time job at the store I sold them at. Brett never needed my money so it allowed me to acquire quite the little nest egg.

I left our old furniture behind needing a clean break from everything that reminded me of him and brought some new items to fill my new home.

I bought my first cell phone although the only number it had programmed in it was Spencer. Not that I planned on calling him. It was just in case I supposed.

Moving into my own apartment was the first decision I’d made on my own in as long as I could remember. It felt liberating but terrifying at the same time.

I didn’t really have any personal items so the apartment was pretty stark, but I supposed it was a start. It was mine. No one could change that.

I should have felt happy. I should have felt relieved. But honestly I just felt terrifyingly alone.

So I did what I always did when I was anxious or scared: I cleaned.

I cleaned the whole apartment and when I was done I cleaned it again. And again. Once I started I couldn’t stop. I didn’t have anything else to fill my time especially while I was off work.

So I cleaned and I cleaned and I cleaned. And even when I was exhausted, I cleaned some more.

///

Stella let out a loud groan and tossed her magazine on the coffee table.

“My god, what has it been, four days?” She huffed.

“Three.” I sighed, closing my book.

“I can’t concentrate on anything.”

“You could go home.” I shot her a sarcastic smile.

“Funny,” she rolled her eyes. “What are they even doing in there? I’d say someone was getting laid only I’ve not heard any moans.”

I chuckled with a roll of my eyes.

“I thought I heard vacuuming at four this morning.”

“Who vacuums at four am?” Stella groaned again just another loud noise emanated from next door. “Seriously I’m going to go over there in a minute.”

“No you aren’t.” I laughed. “You don’t live here, it’s not your neighbour.”

“Urgh!” She groaned louder. “I need something to take my mind off this damn racket.”

Suddenly she turned to me, a smirk on her face.

“Want to do a scene?”

“You want to do a scene to drown out the noise of my new neighbour?” I laughed.

“It’s either that or go out and it takes much less effort for me to be tied up and plowed.” She grinned.

“Oh you have such a way with words.” I stood from the couch and tugged her up with me. “How can a man say no to such a lucrative offer?”

“Shut up and fuck me Doctor.”

I wrapped my hand around her throat as I pushed her towards the bedroom.

“Time for back talk is over slut.” I threw her to the bed and glared down at her. “Now get naked and let me have my filthy way with you.”

///

I stopped vacuuming to have a glass of water and as I padded into the kitchen, that’s when I heard it.

Thudding on the adjoining wall, muffled screams, the distinctive sound of flesh hitting flesh.

I almost dropped the glass from my hand when it started violently shaking. I would know sounds like that anywhere.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It sounded like a body being thrown against a wall.

Tears filled my eyes and I cowered in the corner of the kitchen. I knew exactly what that was like.

But I couldn’t sit back and do nothing, could I? I knew first hand what it was like suffering at the hands of an abusive man, I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else having to go through that.

The logical thing to do would have been to call the police. But my logical thinking had gone out of the window. I had to help that poor woman.

I don’t know where this unexpected burst of confidence came from but I abruptly started marching towards the door before I could second guess myself.

I banged frantically on my neighbors door, so forcefully it hurt my hands. No one answered, but I could still hear the thudding and I swore I heard a scream.

I was crossing a line when I tried the door handle but I was so consumed with hatred for whoever was doing this I didn’t even stop and think. The door opened and I strutted with purpose right into this stranger's apartment.

I reached what I expected was the bedroom and with one last deep breath I threw the door open.

“Stop it! Stop it right now! You are hurting her! That’s abuse!” the words came flying out of my mouth before I pieced together the scene in front of me.

“What the fuck?” the woman scrambled to cover her naked body with the bedsheet whilst pushing the equally naked man off of her. “Who are you? What are you doing?”

Apparently my new neighbor was none other than Doctor Spencer Reid and he was currently naked on his bed staring at me like I had lost my mind, which clearly I had.

///

When doing a scene I am in it, fully. So I guess I didn’t hear her knocking on my door or barging into my apartment.

So now Y/N had just had the pleasure of seeing me balls deep in my best friend. Fucking fantastic.

“D-Dahlia.” I stuttered, grabbing a pillow to cover my manhood. “What uh...why are you here?” I knew my face was flushed, partly with arousal and partly with embarrassment.

“You’re the girl from the BAU.” Stella frowned looking between me and Y/N.

“What were you doing to her? I heard thudding and screams and...oh god I’m an idiot.” she ignored Stella, taking a few steps backwards. “I am so, so sorry.” her face flushed red.

“You’re my new neighbour.” the pieces started slotting into place. “Just...give me a minute to get dressed so we can talk, please?” I stood up from the bed, keeping the pillow in its place.

“I should p-probably just go.”

“Dahlia, please. Just two minutes ok? Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right out.”

She looked as though she wanted to argue but she was not one to question with a naked man hiding his dick with a pillow.

She nodded and scurried back into the living room, closing the door behind her.

I dropped the pillow and started trying to locate some pants.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you get harder when she walked in.” Stella winked at me as she got up.

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes but I didn’t argue because it was true and we both knew it.

“I mean she’s hot. Do you think she’d be interested in a ménage à trois?” She wiggled her eyebrows seductively.

“I am not asking the traumatised girl in my living room for a threesome you hussy.”

“I’m just saying.” She laughed with a shrug.

“Don’t make me spray you with a water bottle.”

I found some flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt I usually slept in and threw them on while Stella dressed too.

I found Y/N on my couch, sitting on the very edge of it as though she wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

“I’m so sorry.” She directed at Stella rather than me. “I just thought I heard…and I panicked.”

“It’s ok.” Stella grinned at her. “Has anyone ever told you, you are stunning?” She practically purred.

“Stella!” I hissed at her.

“What? She is!”

I looked at Y/N who looked as though she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Stella flopped down next to her and ran her fingernail along Dahlia’s jawline.

“Beautiful really.”

“Stell I wasn’t kidding about the spray bottle.”

She rolled her eyes and stood back up.

“You just want the precious kitten all to yourself.” she spoke loud enough that I knew Y/N would have heard her.

“Stella.”

“Fine, fine.” she held her hands up in defeat. “I’ve got to go to work anyway. Have fun, you two.” she gave me another wink before strutting to the door and letting herself out. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” she called over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

“I’m sorry about her.” I sat down next to her but not too close so as not to make her uncomfortable. “She has no boundaries. I’m also sorry about what you uh...walked in on.”

“I thought you were hurting her.” she sniffed. “I panicked and I didn’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have just come storming in here like that though, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s ok. There is a large element of rough play to BDSM but it’s all consensual. And I always take care of her afterwards.”

“Is she y-your girlfriend?”

“No.” I laughed because it was really a ridiculous thought.

Of course I found Stella attractive, I would have to be able to have sex with her, but I didn’t think about her in a romantic way. I hadn’t thought of anyone in a romantic way since Maeve.

“She’s not the girl who sent you that photograph.”

“No she isn’t. That was Kylie. There’s also Nora for honesty’s sake.”

Her mouth fell open slack.

“I told you, I can’t feel romantic things. Sometimes I need sexual release though.” I shrugged, I had long ago accepted the way I was.

“With t-three women?” She swallowed.

“It’s different with each of them. They give me different things. I’m sorry if that’s weird for you but…that’s just me.”

She looked as though she was contemplating it, trying to understand. I didn’t expect her to.

“I’ve o-only been with B-Brett.” She chewed her lip shyly.

Oh god, why was that so hot?

Why did I want to take her and ravage her? Show her things she’d never been shown before. Make her feel ways she’d never even dreamed of feeling.

I could completely and utterly ruin her and then put her back together again.

“I don’t expect you to understand Dahlia, just please don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging you.” she gave me a shaky smile.

Just then her stomach made an all mighty rumbling sound and she blushed deeply.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“It’s embarrassing. Brett would never stand for that.”

“Brett isn’t here, you don’t ever have to worry about him again. Are you hungry?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to wait until he’s hungry anymore Dahlia. You don’t have to live your life according to him.”

“I g-guess I’m a little hungry.”

“If you could have anything to eat right now, what would it be?” I asked her with a smile.

“I don’t know.” she shook her head.

“Come on, you can have anything your stomach desires. What would you like to eat?” I cautiously placed my hand on her knee and she didn’t flinch as much as I expected her to.

She chewed her lip while she contemplated this for a moment before her eyes lit up a little.

“Pizza. Pepperoni pizza. He would never let me eat pizza, it’s too fatty.”

My heart broke for her. She had to live so long suppressing everything that made her who she was. The least I could do was buy her a pepperoni pizza.

“Pepperoni pizza it is.” I gave her a large smile before I found my phone and called for a pizza.

///

The pizza was like a religious experience. I hadn’t eaten anything so greasy in such a long time.

Spencer watched me eat with a smile on his face which I tried to ignore.

I was only used to eating small portions, I was only ever allowed to eat what Brett told me I could eat and it was usually half of whatever he ate.

I made it through two slices before my stomach was full. But it was the first time I’d felt full in so long.

“Did you enjoy that?” Spencer grinned at me as I wiped my greasy fingers on a napkin.

“I loved it. Thank you so much.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want anymore?”

“Honestly I’m stuffed, gosh what a feeling.” I smiled happily, if not a little sleepily. “I should get back, I’m tired.” I pushed myself up.

“Let me walk you home.” He got up too.

“I only live next door.” I laughed shyly.

“I’m a gentleman.” He shrugged, motioning to the door.

I didn’t argue with him, I let him walk me the four steps to my door.

“Thank you so much Spencer, really.”

“You are more than welcome Dahlia.” He smiled and slowly leaned closer to me before placing the softest kiss to my cheek.

And I swear I saw stars.

But nerves got the better of me and I took a few steps backwards, grasping for my door handle.

“Goodnight Spencer.”

“Are you not going to invite me in? You’ve seen my apartment, it’s only fair.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of Spencer Reid seeing inside my apartment. But he was right, it was only fair.

“Uhm…I s-suppose you could, for just a minute.” I shakily opened the door, worried of what he might think.

It lacked the lived in feel of his apartment. It wasn’t homely. It wasn’t cosy. What was he going to think?

He followed me inside, his eyes casting around the unobjective plainness before him.

“I didn’t really have a lot of things at that house that were mine.” I was quick to tell him. “So it’s quite bare at the moment.”

Maybe it will be for a while. The truth was I hadn’t found my personality outside of Brett. He stripped me of everything I once was and I had a hard time remembering the girl I was before.

“It’s…nice.” Spencer stopped scanning the room and looked at me with a sad smile.

“It’s dull.” I laughed a little. “It’s ok I know it is.”

Spencer came closer to me and he brushed his fingertips across my cheek. His touch was feather light and I felt a shiver pass up my spine.

“But it’s yours. Only yours. And no one can take that away from you.”

That thought alone was enough for a small smile to grace my lips. He was right.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

“For what?” He chuckled a little.

“For everything.” I shrugged. He knew what I meant.

“You’re welcome Dahlia. Sleep well.”

And with that he left, vanishing as though he’d never even really been here to begin with.

But I swore I could still feel his touch on my cheek.

///

I wanted to do something for Y/N so the following morning I called the only person who I imagined would have a flair for home deco.

“Boy wonder!” Garcia was clearly surprised to hear from me. “Do we have a case I don’t know about? Emily usually calls me…”

“No Garcia, no case.” I laughed a little.

“Oh.” She paused. “Not that I don’t love hearing your voice, but is there a reason you called me?”

I understood her confusion. We were friends, really good friends, but it wasn’t often I called her outside of work.

“I actually need your help with something.”

“Ok, let me fire up my laptop and-“

“Not that kind of help.” I laughed again. “Would you be able to take me shopping?”

There was another confused pause, longer than the first.

“Shopping?” She questioned as though she’d never heard the word. “You want…me to take you…shopping?”

“Yes. I’ll explain everything. But you're the only person I can think of that would be able to help with this.”

“Uh…ok.” I could hear the frown in her voice. “I can meet you in about an hour?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

***

Garcia and I spent several hours shopping, much to her glee. We actually had a really nice time and she helped me procure everything I needed.

When I’d told her it was for Y/N she was eager to help.

Later that afternoon, I knocked on Y/N’s door, armed with several bags. I hope I hadn’t over stepped a line, I hoped this was ok.

She looked a little confused when she answered the door, clearly not expecting company although she was still made up to perfection the way I imagine Brett always made her.

“Seeker,” she smiled at me. “What are you doing here?”

She stepped aside and let me in the apartment. I followed her to the couch where I set my bags down.

“I went shopping.” I proudly motioned to the bags.

“I can see that.” She nodded.

“I hope this isn’t strange and if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. But I got you some things to brighten up the place, hopefully it’ll help you feel more at home.”

I started emptying the bags onto the couch while she took in all the little trinkets and ornaments and other little things I had found.

“Oh my gosh.” She stared at all the colourful items. “Are these really for me?”

She looked so childlike in her excitement that it made my heart swell.

“If you like them, yes.”

“I c-can’t accept all of this.” She suddenly went shy. She clearly wasn’t used to accepting gifts.

“Yes you can.” I told her with a smile. “I’m an FBI agent, you can’t argue with me.” I laughed so she knew I was joking.

“B-but…it’s too much.”

“It’s no less than you deserve Dahlia. Please.”

“O-ok.” She smiled, probably the brightest smile I’d seen on her as she started rushing about to find homes for her new things.

The items included but were not limited to, plant pots in the shapes of pandas, a small China ornament of two penguins, throw cushions in various shapes, colors and sizes, a string of unicorn fairy lights and other animal related trinkets.

She loved every single one of them.

There were several different photo frames which I thought she could fill over time, only one held a photograph.

It was a bright purple frame and in it was a silly photograph of Garcia and myself we took on her phone in the store. She was crossed eyed and I was sticking out my tongue.

“You don’t have to keep the photo, Garcia just thought-“

“Why would I not want to keep it?” She hugged the frame close to her body. “I love it.”

She set the frame down in the middle of her coffee table and smiled to herself.

“I love it all.” She breathed dreamily. “Thank you so, so much Spencer.”

She held her arms open hesitantly as though she wasn’t sure if she should hug me or not.

I smiled and stepped into her arms, wrapping her into a tight embrace.

She rested her head on my chest and she felt as though she slotted perfectly into my body, as though she was made to be in my arms.

“Is it weird if I say you’re my best friend?” She spoke quietly into my shirt. “I don’t really have friends so by default you feel like my best friend.”

I removed one arm from around her and cupped her chin to guide her face up so I could look at her.

“That’s not weird at all. And by default or not, I am honoured.” I smiled at her. “But there are a couple of other things I got.” I let go of her and motioned for her to sit with me on the couch.

I picked up my satchel where I’d hidden the last two gifts.

I handed her the first, a simple tawny bear which she clutched with the gusto of a small, excited child.

“I thought when I’m away on cases and you’re scared or sad, he could be a substitute for me.”

She hugged the bear tightly, looking too adorable for words.

“I’m going to call him Doc.” she whispered happily.

I wish hearing her say the name Doc didn’t send a shock to my genitals the way it did. I blamed Stella and how she always called me Doctor in the bedroom. Since then it had always had a strange effect on me and I had to subtly adjust myself so she wouldn’t see I was growing hard.

I cleared my throat, trying to distract from my shuffling but she didn’t seem to notice.

“I love him.” she mumbled in content.

“I’m glad.” I reached into my satchel, hoping to rid my brain of the way she said Doc, at least until later when I was alone. “And I got you this as well.”

I had gotten extremely lucky stumbling on the journal. It was cream leather, with a beautiful purple dahlia stitched in the fabric, along with the word Dahlia. It had a small padlock and key to keep her thoughts private. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

“I took the liberty of writing on the first page. You see, the BDSM lifestyle is very focused around trust and communication. I think those elements are really useful to bring into our relationship. So I wrote down some rules for us.” I handed her the small key and she unlocked the journal without a word.

She turned to the first page and I watched her eyes dance over my rules.

Message me when you feel bad. Remember I care about your feelings.

Eat and hydrate regularly. Tell me when you eat. I am proud of you when you do.

You can trust me with anything. I know trust needs to be earned, but I hope I have shown you, you can trust me.

Communication is of the utmost importance. If you feel uncomfortable tell me. If you feel you need to say something, say it. I will not get upset.

You are valued and important. Don’t make yourself feel small.

Always be yourself - there is nothing wrong with who you are.

If you are ever uncomfortable in any situation, use a safe word. Our safe word will be “Wisp” as you know in the Sword of Truth it is a fairy of protection. Use the safe word if you ever feel you need to.

“I-I don’t understand.” She said as she looked back at me. “We aren’t…this isn’t…”

“No, no.” I shook my head. “Sorry I should have made myself clearer.” I could sense exactly what she was thinking. “I’m not suggesting a BDSM relationship between us. I’m just channeling some of its sensibilities. Sans sex.”

“Oh. Ok.” She still looked confused.

“I am an open book ok? If you ever have any questions that you don’t feel you can ask me, write them in the journal and leave it outside my door. I will answer anything. I will tell you anything. But openness has to work both ways.”

“Ok, I think I understand.” She swallowed, clutching the journal.

“But for the record I am open to just about anything. So if you ever are…curious…you just tell me.” God why did I want her to be curious so badly?

She blushed a little, clearly knowing what I meant and she averted her gaze from mine.

“O-ok.”

“And for honesty’s sake I will continue my relationship with Stella. And Kylie. And Nora. But I don’t want you to think it’s because I’m sex obsessed because I’m not. I just have certain commitments.”

“I understand.” She nodded, looking back at me. “Thank you Spencer. Really. And I certainly will tell you if I’m ever…curious.”

My dick twitched again. Was she flirting with me? God good she was going to be the death of me.

“Ok, good.” I cleared my throat again.

I hoped she didn’t change her mind about that.

///

Spencer stayed for a little while and after I let him out I went into a panic.

Had I flirted with him? I don’t think I’d meant to, but it certainly came out that way.

But the problem was, I am curious, probably too curious. I don’t know why I am, but I am nonetheless.

But surely I shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t want that, should I?

Of course Spencer is pretty, so pretty it makes my heart race every time I see him. But I definitely can’t be curious. No. No way.

But why was it suddenly all I could think about? Why had he had to go and put that idea in my head?

The last thing I needed was to be thinking about my neighbour in that way.

But I did have questions. Lots of questions actually.

I opened the journal to the next page and poised my pen above the page.

Why did you want to be a dominant?

What kind of things turn you on?

What made you decide to try it?

What characteristics do you find most attractive in someone?

I was blushing as I wrote them, feeling like these questions were too personal, I was prying too much.

But I read back over his rules. Communication. Honesty. They were key.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I took the journal and left it outside Spencer’s door, hurrying back to my newly decorated apartment before he caught me.

—————————————————————

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[angelsxbelle]

growing up in love with you.

w/ oikawa, kuroo, and daichi

helloooo my beautiful beans:) i’m here to feed you with some more hurt comfort headcanons/scenarios since we’re all lonely and in love with anime boys :’)))

likes and reblogs are very appreciated!!!

genre: fluff and angst, hurt comfort, slice of life

pairings: oikawa x reader, daichi x reader, kuroo x reader x fem! reader

listen to: line without a hook, ricky montgomery

@moonhere​ i’m pretty sure this was your request with oikawa i’m so sorry this took so long omg

note: takes place during timeskip so beware of spoilers!!

warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of female anatomy and pronouns

oikawa, TOORU

oikawa tooru appears to have his life together on the outside, but in his mind he still feels like he’ll never be enough

in your relationship, he’s worked impossibly hard to better himself to the point where he’s not insecure which would cause a strain on the both of you, but he still has moments where he lets himself become consumed in his own thoughts

being with you has been possibly the best thing ever to happen to him, but at the same time he’s still terrified of losing you

when his worries start to consume him again, he can’t stop obsessively worrying over the possibility that you’ll find someone better than him, that you deserve someone better than him

oikawa can sometimes hide his insecurities by acting cocky, but you’ve gotten good at reading him so you can easily tell when he’s feeling insecure or unsure of himself

so when it springs up that you’ve been invited to your cousin’s wedding along with a plus one, he’s more than happy to accompany you as he loves fancy events like weddings

you make the preparations together, he helps you pick out a gift for the couple while you go shopping for a new dress to wear

overall, you’re both excited to make the journey back to your hometown to watch your cousin make his marriage official, you both know the ceremony will probably be amazing, as well as the festivities after

when you get there, you’re both immediately swarmed by relatives, exclaiming how excited they are to meet your longtime boyfriend and how happy they are to see everyone together

as the ceremony starts, you’re both on the edges of your seats waiting as you see the bride delicately step past you down the aisle, waiting to secure her vows with your cousin

the formalities went amazing, as all of your relatives sat in tears as the couple at the podium exchanged beautiful vows and the rings were slipped on each others’ fingers

after, everyone moved to the building next door as the wedding was help at a chapel at the edge of a forest, with the after party being a building next to it, walls made of glass so the guests could view the beautiful scenery outside

tooru is more than willing to show off his dancing skills at the beginning, and dinner goes well before your relatives and family get together to do group dances and disperse into separate conversations afterwards

as the lights get dimmer and the atmosphere of the party start to settle, tooru sits at your table as he watches you chatter away with your relatives.

he watches as you speak with such ease, never failing to coax a laugh out of even your stoniest aunts, he can’t help but think to himself how beautiful you are, and how incredibly lucky he is to have you

another man, he recognizes as the best man strolls up to you, striking up a conversation with you.

tooru knows it’s probably nothing, just a conversation, and he also knows you would never do anything to hurt him, so he’s content just watching you talk with someone else.

he watches the scene unfold like a movie, with him as a part of the background, just watching, waiting.

before, tooru would have been filled with a familiar uneasy feeling right about now, his stomach twisting uncomfortably in his body, mind filled with thoughts he wishes weren’t there.

he could only have hoped he was good enough for you.

thinking back through all the years with you, the memories, he remembers all the times you saved him from himself, the world, anything that had ever hurt him.

it was back in high school, the first day of oikawa tooru’s first year of high school, he walked around with his head held high to keep anyone from seeing how low he felt, cocky smirk to hide just how unsure he really was of himself.

it wasn’t love at first, he didn’t particularly remember the first time he saw you, but step by step as you got closer to him he realized that you had one thing his fangirls could never give him, stability, comfort, and home.

he found home in you every time it hurt too much.

the feeling that could only possibly have imprinted itself into oikawa’s conscience was the feeling of being seen for who he truly was, a feeling that he had almost never felt before.

and as you saw him, he saw you the same way in that you could always depend on each other, for every painful moment, every failure, every insecurity.

 it was then that he knew he really was in love with you.

even as he cried with his face in your lap in his third year you were still there, running your fingers through his hair and reminding him that he was enough and that you couldn’t be more proud of him.

and as he packed his bags to fly halfway across the world, he watched you cry as he couldn’t believe how much he meant to you.

the final weeks you had leading up to your graduation, you spent as much time with each other as possible, desperately trying to keep hold of the fleeting moments passing between you.

as you stood together in the tokyo national airport looking out at the window over the scenery of the country he had once called home, clutching a letter for him containing everything you had ever felt for him and wanted him to know before he left.

he looked at you with tears in his eyes, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on, saying goodbye for the last time.

the years you were apart as you finished university while he was overseas felt like a time of awakening, so much had changed in what felt like moments, both without what mattered most.

and he knew while he was gone there were many more people who could’ve found you like he did, and that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

the trust he had in you was all he needed to keep going, that when you came to meet him you would still love him the way you always did.

when you finally, came, and all was said and done, he felt like he never wanted to let go of you as he had you in his arms again, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have the love of his life so close to him.

sometimes he still wonders why chose him, but it’s enough for him to remember that you did, and that you’ll never let go of him.

the song in the reception hall changes, and tooru snaps out of the flashback that had taken over him for who knows how long.

you walk over to him and you look even more beautiful than he remembered, saying, “tooru! come over here and dance with me!”

he smiles and takes your hand, fingers delicately brushing the diamond on your finger he had carefully picked out all that time ago, that you had both cried tears of joy over when he stood on the top of the mountain to make things forever, thinking he was the happiest man alive.

you were always with him, from when he was an insecure teenager to the words san juan reading on his back. 

he can’t even fathom how much it means to him as he holds you close to him, one hand on your shoulders and the other on your middle, round and full with his baby, how he’ll never get tired of love like this.

he kisses your forehead and says, “anytime you want baby”.

kuroo, TETSURO

despite his sarcastic and confident manner as he had grown up, kuroo was shy as a small child

he had a hard time making friends in elementary school at first, but that didn’t stop him from meeting people he would care about for the rest of his life, that he would cherish forever

on his first day of kindergarten, he only knew kenma who was also shy and mostly kept to himself during the day

but there was one other person who was there for him, the little girl who stood next to him when no one would, who asked him what his name was and held his hand on the playground

and so you and kuroo tetsuro became best friends, along with kenma, holding a bond that wouldn’t be separated even when you graduated

it felt like time had gone by in a blur, like the memories slipped through his fingers like water, and now you were all fully grown adults with jobs, with lives, with purposes

and now, it was the tokyo 2021 olympics and kuroo tetsuro was getting ready to watch the competitions with his associates and friends, ready to watch his old friends and acquaintances on japan’s national team 

he felt like he could get lost in an ocean of people, but he spots you in the crowd immediately, he could spot your face anytime, anywhere

and so he meets you as you take your places, ready to watch the game begin

as he sees his old friends on the court together, he can’t help but to start remembering his high school days, when you were still young

it doesn’t help either that kuroo becomes painfully aware again of the way that he had been pining for you for all those years, even being one of the smartest people in his grade he still felt like the biggest idiot for just standing back and watching you grow, away from him

sometimes he wishes he could have turned back time, just to go back and tell you how he really felt earlier

but he let the years pass by, watching you drift slowly apart as he harbored his own feeling in order to avoid being rejected

now that you’re both graduated adults with careers and life paths, kuroo’s feelings are still very much present and if anything, he wants to try just one more time to prove he still cares

so he sits next to you, looking over at your gentle face as he takes in your features once again, watching your lips move slightly as you breathe in and out, and he remembers there was once nothing he would do in the world to give up being with you, wishing he had said something sooner

kuroo glances up as he starts to think back on all the times he could have told you how he really felt, all the times he screwed up worse than he could even imagine.

it was your first boyfriend having graduated high school, some douchebag kuroo couldn’t even be bothered to learn the name of.

but what he felt could never be forgotten, as he watched you walk away with another man’s arm around your lower back, pulling you close in a way that he had always dreamed of doing to you but couldn’t.

he was bitter, cold, in a way that he shouldn’t ever have been.

it’s your own dumbass fault, he thought, but that didn’t make him any less hurt or angry at what he had let happen. were you even happy? did someone else other than him make you happy?

he let himself grow apart from you ever so slightly, you saw him just as often and still cared for him just as much, but you could tell there was something he was keeping from you that even he couldn’t admit to himself.

kuroo thought it was over when you said yes to someone else, but here he was holding you in his arms as you cried with a bruised face and shattered heart.

all he could think about was how this would never happened if you picked him, but he was so pathetic he couldn’t even make it happen past his imagination, but no matter how angry or upset he was you still came first.

and he kept that promise as you got older, all he would do was care for you silently as he witnessed your life through the glass that separated you, that he could break but wasn’t strong enough to, no matter how much it hurt.

“are you coming tetsu- chan?”

it was the summer before first grade, he was hiding under the overhang of a bus stop with his hood over his small face, quivering on the ground in a crouched position.

kuroo’s seven year old self looked up at your small face, a hand outstretched as you held your way too big umbrella over your head, waiting for him to say something in return.

he had always hated thunderstorms, he hated the way it felt like the sound and violence swallowed him up, the same way it felt when his parents yelled at each other as he stood in the doorway of his bedroom watching from a distance.

he looked around at the dark gray skies engulfing him, the small threads of lightning painting the skies like blood vessels, wishing it would all go away.

but you still stood there as the rain poured down in your rain coat and small red boots as you waited for him to come out.

he reluctantly started to crawl out slowly, as you inched closer to where he was previously hunched, waiting for him to reach you.

as you stood just past the overhang, he stuck his hand out timidly and you wrapped your fingers around it, giving his hand a small squeeze before you started to walk towards your house together.

he shivered the whole way there, and every time you heard thunder crack in the distance he held your hand a little bit tighter.

when you got home your mother freaked out and called his family so they weren’t worried about him, and then got out warm towels and told the both of you to go take a bath so you wouldn’t catch a cold.

after you were both warm and dry and wrapped up in soft pajamas, which he had borrowed, kuroo felt oddly at home, like he never wanted to leave the safe place he had with you.

even as you had set up a futon for him on the floor, after about 30 minutes of being terrified of the sounds rattling your house he asked to get closer, and you shifted as he crawled into bed with you.

when you woke up in the morning he was fast asleep with your favorite stuffed animal clutched in his arms, a soft expression on his face, and you couldn’t help but think how peaceful he looked.

the truth is, as you made friends with the small boy in your kindergarten class you had already told stories with your dolls and toys saying you were going to marry him one day.

at 13 you had wondered why he never talked about liking any other girls, you had worried he wasn’t interested in anyone at all.

and at 19 you had tried to move on but it was just too hard.

every time you had fallen you were always there for each other, through all the scraped knees, thunderstorms, and broken hearts.

you only wished you could tell each other what your relationship really meant, what you wanted it to be.

and as kuroo sits in the stands of his friends’ volleyball game, he wonders the same thing that you do.

“y/n- chan, will you be my girlfriend?”

sawamura, DAICHI

being in the same class as daichi in your first year of high school had been interesting, he was rather ordinary looking but you couldn’t help but notice how hard working and kind he was, his energy drew others close to him and you could see why he was admired by many

you didn’t pay much attention to it as you were a bit shy about talking to new people and you didn’t want him to think you were trying to hard, so you kept your distance until you were paired together for a project

you were quiet at first as you sat next to him at your desk since he was a bit intimidating, but as soon as he started talking you felt yourself ease up around him, something about the way he spoke was comforting and it felt like you were at home with him even as you sat inside school

you had started to come up with a plan for your project, and you basfully said, “i’m not that good at english, so i hope it won’t be hard for you to deal with me or anything”, not thinking too much about it

“don’t say that, i’m sure you’re great and you should have more confidence in yourself, it will be better for you”, you hear him say firmly but gently from next to you at the desk

your cheeks flush with warmth and you look down, not sure what to say to him next, but he starts talking about your project plans so you turned around to pay attention to what he was saying

things went well with your assignment and you both received a good grade from your teacher, the school day was about to end as it was your last class and you were about to walk through the door when you felt a hand grasp yours and you turned around to face him

“u-uhm, i really had a nice time getting to know you while we were working together and i was wondering if you maybe wanted to be friends”

it was the first time you had ever seen him look flustered or anything of the sort, but you were happy to oblige since you had had just a nice time getting to know him as well

 you smiled softly and walked away, feeling excited at the possibility of getting closer to sawamura daichi as he had intrigued you so much in the couple of weeks that you had known him

and so years later after that time you had first met, you were still around each other, he was one of the best things that had ever happened to you

it was a reunion between his old high school volleyball team, you had known how close they were as you were with him during his final year when karasuno had gone to nationals, and how much his old teammates meant to him and the relationship they had

and so you both made your way over to the tanaka residence with a dish you had cooked in your hands, both excited to see your old friends again and witness the ways they had all grown up and changed

as soon as you walked in the door, all the memories you had made in high school came flooding back at the sight of your friends’ faces, although it was strange seeing how much older they looked.

daichi wonders if he looks that old to them too, sometimes he forgets how much time has passed since they graduated.

it felt like it had been only a moment since he had stood in karasuno high school’s gym barking at hinata and kageyama to get themselves together, with sugawara and tanaka laughing in the background and asahi watching with a fearful expression.

and now they were all grown adults, with lives and jobs and homes, some with lovers and some with dreams that came to life.

he couldn’t be more proud of who they all became, the boys he once knew to be scrawny and mischievous would now be standing on the world’s stage and others who had followed their passions found love in what they did.

still, sometimes daichi still can’t help but wonder if you wanted more, when he saw his old teammates and acquaintances from other schools play on national teams and be watched by thousands around the world.

he wonders if you’re still satisfied with just him.

daichi knows he’s not the most flashy guy out there, but you chose him out of everyone else, right?

he remembers all of those times in high school and when you had graduated that people wondered why why you were with him, couldn’t you have found someone a little more interesting, someone special?

daichi isn’t the type to let his emotions get the better of him, but it stung.

it stung bad.

and yet, he knew he couldn’t lose himself just because of some insecurities, things that didn’t really mean anything, but still wormed their way into his head like maggots growing in a corpse.

sometimes he thinks about the boyfriends you had before him, how he wasn’t anything like them, he was unsure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he was the odd one out. 

all his life he had felt painfully....average.

he wondered why people would forget his name just after talking to him, or why they would mistake him for other people, was he really that forgettable.

it felt sometimes like he was just another face in the crowd, sometimes he wondered if that was the way you saw him at first too.

what daichi didn’t know is how you had always seen him, someone reliable, special, valuable like no one else had been to you.

that he had always stuck out to you, he didn’t seem like anyone else in the sense that he always stepped up and did what needed to be done, you hadn’t seen a heart like his in anyone else your entire life.

he didn’t realize how in every class you had together, he was the one that you stared at, that you saw as beacon of hope out of everything you had faced in your life up until then.

daichi’s friends and family had always looked up to him, he didn’t always realize it but they saw him as a hero to everyone he helped, whether he did it intentionally or not.

through you, daichi was able to see himself the way that everyone else saw him.

when you said yes when he had asked you to marry him, it was cliche but he could’ve sworn he really was the luckiest man alive.

but the truth was he wasn’t lucky, he was more worthy than anyone else could be, the person who stayed by your side when no one else would and who made it seem like you were capable of anything.

you were living proof of just how special daichi sawamura was.

and on your wedding day, tears streamed down both of your faces as you got ready to read your vows to each other, because neither of you could fathom how much you meant to each other.

he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked standing in front of him , how he never wanted to let you go because you were worth more to him than anything else in his life.

in your vow, you told him just how much he meant to you, and how you were so incredibly lucky to have him, and he couldn’t help but let the tears slide down his cheeks because he loved you so damn much.

and as you sat on your living room couch with a pregnancy test in your hands he cried again because you made him happier than he could ever have wished to be.

it hurt him more than anything to see you in so much pain as you delivered your baby, but the amount of joy you’d bring into the world was more than worth it.

as you held your baby girl in your arms for the first time, he realized all he had ever needed in his life was right here, he wouldn’t have to search ever again.

it felt like she was growing bigger and bigger every day just in front of his eyes.

he knew one day she’d leave and grow up and have to let go, but for now she was still his and yours together.

and knew he was more special than anyone else in the world.

“honey, let’s go watch everyone in the living room, okay?”

you smiled, because the world had given you more than you could ever ask for, surrounded with beautiful people every day and given experiences you wouldn’t trade for the world.

[taeyohonic]

the trophy wife (m)

summary: the proposal doesn’t go as planned (established relationship, idol au, fluff and angst) pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader rating: explicit (18+) warnings (containing spoilers): swearing, robbery, pandemic, vomit, description of injuries and blood (very abstract), mentions of depression, insomina and periods, a hella lot ugly crying info: when i tell you that this is a super-duper fluffy piece, i’m not lying! it was 99% sweetness, so i added a little... angst (but like... only 10%) related work: the stalker | baby, what’s wrong? | favoritism (m) | the trophy wife words: 5.7k

“would you still love me if i became your trophy wife?”

yoongi snorts into his iphone, your grimace too adorable to be taken seriously.

“how bad are these papers?”, he asks. jungkook next to him is stealing curious glances at his hyung’s screen. to hear your voice so distressed makes him worry. you’re the best thing that ever happened to his member – your well-being comes right after his need for homemade kimchi.

“how… can they not know which products contain dairy? how yoongs?”, you vent eyeing the ungraded test in front of you.

“i ate… so much yogurt. the whole class did. we tested so much dairy products… like… so much. we drank all of the banana milk… how can they get this wrong?”, you continue. unbeknown to you, the maknae is now furrowing his brows at your words. wait a minute…

“noona, did you steal my banana milk last week?”, jungkook questions and moves closer to yoongi. before you can hide you see his big eyes joining your boyfriend on the screen.

“wow, jungkookie – your undercut looks so good. damn!”, you say. it’s not a total deflection; he does look extremely handsome after his haircut.

“noona, i thought i sleepwalked”, he whines, not caring for your compliment… right now.

“taehyung even made a meme out of it”, he complaints and you have the audacity to coo at him. yoongi tries to hide his smile, but he can see his reflection grinning on the screen.

“it was oppa’s idea!”

and now his smile freezes as jungkook moves his accusing glare to him. you don’t usually call yoongi by this name. and he’d be all too happy to shut you up in your shared bedroom. but now he and the boys are in the outskirts of seoul to film the newest music video, far away from you and your treacherous mouth.

“hyung?��, jungkook asks with the voice of a cheated wife ready to sign the divorce papers.

“it’s for the kids, maknae”, your boyfriend defends himself to which jungkook only huffs in irritation.

“there was a time when i was the kid – what happened? am i not cute enough anymore? noona? am i not the most adorable?”

his deer eyes stare at you – big, brown and full. you can’t help but to take a screenshot of these two – your rapper visibly done with his member and jungkook in the middle of a banana milk breakdown. you’ll have to frame this picture.

“you’re the most adorable thing there is, jungkookie”, you reassure him. yoongi just snorts when he sees the faintest flush on his bandmate’s face.

“that’s enough praise for him, baby. save it for your students.” there is no humor in the smile you send him. after a beat of silence in which you burry all your frustration deep inside the pits of your stomach, you try to change the subject.

“how is nature?” they’ve been in the woods for weeks, completely closed off from all the city drama. you’ve never seen jimin so excited to drive – while namjoon’s sour face reflected how much the latest failed drivers test bothered him.

“jin-hyung nearly died in the water today. it was epic”, your friend instead of your boyfriend answers and you have to shift a giggle at yoongi’s eyeroll.

“be gone, maknae”

rudely blunt – just how you liked your partner. jungkook just winks at you in a silent goodbye and gets up. he’s nearly out of the picture before his upper body shoves against the rapper. his nose is way too close to the screen and you’d be worried about his eyes – if you didn’t know how often the singer spends his nights in front of his computer.

“noona, you’ll replace the milk, right?”

“jungkook”, yoongi growls in responds. the boy is not acknowledging his colleague, so you give in and nod.

“of course, kookie. it’s already waiting in the fridge for you to come back”, you tell him. as soon as these words leave your mouth, the maknae is satisfied and gone.

“you don’t have to baby him that much, ____”, yoongi says while moving the phone closer to his face. you can see the dark circles under his eyes better now.

“what’s keeping you up at night, yoongs?”, you ask instead of answering his complaint. the rapper smiles faintly at the screen.

“you, baby, always you” yu snort and let yourself lie down on the couch – the papers can wait another day, or a lifetime.

“i wish”, you say truthfully. you’d sell one of your kidneys to relax with the boys far away from the pandemic madness. after having yoongi to yourself for two weeks non-stop, you are way too spoiled. even though your legs are deeply grateful for this recovery time, you miss the constant calm radiating off of your boyfriend.

“i’ll be back soon, baby”, he reassures you and draws lines across the screen. your cheeks look colorless and it worries him just as much as his lack of sleep bothers you.

“make it sooner”, you mutter and close your eyes when you hear his chuckle in responds.

“have you had dinner yet?”, yoongi asks but you don’t want to open your eyes, not ready to face his criticism.

“nah, i’ll wait till sungho gets here.” you don’t need your eyesight to feel his disapproval.

“that’s not very socially distance of you, ____.” yeah, no baby anymore. still, you remain shut off.

“he’s just a friend. one friend. one work friend. one work friend that needs help with the new school cloud. the online grading program is a pain in the ass.”

“and why do you have to do that at six on a friday night in our home?”, yoongi notices the tiniest of smiles on your lips as he mentions your shared home. he, too, loves your little flat with a pandora of memories.

“because i am a loner and don’t have anything better planed for the weekend and my boyfriend is camping in the woods and oh – there is a global pandemic”, you snort and open your eyes to watch your boyfriend’s tensed expression.

“if you’re a loner – what am i then? a stone?”, yoongi asks sarcastically.

“maybe a boulder”, you shoot back with a soft smile that melts his jealousy away… nearly.

“just… don’t let him touch my stuff”, yoongi orders. he’d trade his own maknae to be the one at the other side of your door when he hears a distant knocking sound.

“that’ll be him, yoongs”, you say and move off the couch with as much dignity as one can muster after a whole work week and no motivation left in the bones.

“promise to call me back when you’re in bed?”, your boyfriend pleads, reluctant to let you go. with him going on world tours this phone conversation isn’t your first and it won’t be the last. still, his small request fills you with yearning.

“of course”, you promise, eyes still on him as you open the door without a second thought.

a fist connects with your skull while your eyes widen at the sight of two ski-masked men. the pain is instantly blinding your senses and you start to scream with tears clouding your vision. you fall to the floor before they push their way inside your home. one of them, muscle clad with wide shoulders kicks you in the stomach just to move you out of their way. the other, smaller in statue, crushes your phone with his shoe, the cracked screen frozen with your boyfriend starring at you in horror.

**

namjoon will never forget the bone chilling scream waking him this evening from his nap. he’s never heard yoongi’s voice filled to the brim with pain. not even registering his movements, he tumbles into the living room where is friend is still yelling your name, his face a mask of panic.

“hyung, what’s wrong?”, namjoon asks as footsteps behind him signal the arrival of his bandmates.

yoongi’s hands shake as his eyes stay fixed on the screen of his form. the leader moves first, not able to watch his friend losing himself. when joon steps behind yoongi’s figure to calm him down, a cold shower travels through his body. the screen shows you lying on the floor with red dripping from your mouth. your eyes are closed, but namjoon notices the uneven rise and fall of your chest – you’re breathing.

“jin, call the police”, the leader orders without turning around. his hands try to pry the phone out of yoongi’s fingers, but they are white with pressure and unforgiving. his lungs are still screaming and namjoon’s heart breaks at the scene.

“hyung, - just… calm down”, he says, not quite believing in his own words. he wouldn’t calm down either in yoongi’s position.

“what am i reporting?”, seokjin asks, close enough that the question answers itself as soon as he peaks over yoongi’s shoulder.

“i’d like to report a break-in – there is a person, hurt. the address is-“

yoongi can’t hear his oldest colleague, the voice drowned by his worry for you. at first, he doesn’t register namjoon’s chest pressing behind his back, but then his body shudders when the fellow rapper hugs him from behind.

“hyung, we – sh – it’s gonna be okay. it’ll be okay, she’s okay… we… you have to calm down, yoongi”, namjoon sooths his friend of ten years and rocks them both from side to side.

“taehyung, call the building manager – there should be security in the foyer”, seokjin commands the young man who watches the scene in front of him passively. as soon as he hears his name though, the singer moves to grab his iphone with shaky fingers.

“look, hyung, she’s awake”, joon points out and yoongi shakes his head to move these stupid tears out of his vision. indeed, your eyes are open as you try to even your breathing. it looks like you are crying as well and yoongi has never felt this kind of searing pain before. to see the love of his life in tears and burglars destroying your home while he is in the middle of fucking nowhere, makes him sick. when he sees you trying to get up, only to drop back onto the floor, his stomach turns. yoongi vomits onto his lap and namjoon has to hold his friend upright as he loses consciousness.

**

you’ve never been this glad for the heavy painkillers your boyfriend has tugged away in the bathroom due to his immense shoulder problems. the icepack pressed to your forehead cools for body down; still, you are shaking with adrenaline as you watch the security guard pace in front of you.

“yes, sir, yes – no, of course sir, negative sir”, he looks at your shaking form and grimaces before answering. “minor injuries”, the guard holds his phone further away when his caller answers a few decibels too loud.

“the paramedics are on their way”, he responds, not daring to look you directly in the eye. after another game of “yes and no”, the security ends his call.

“how are you, ma’am?”, the man in uniform asks, but remains standing a few feet away. when he first got here after receiving a hectic message from his boss, you were crying on the floor – alone. his colleague is already checking the floors, while another is combing through the surveillance footage. it’s been five minutes and you still look like a ghost.

his instructions were crystal clear – don’t touch the subject. but his heart clenches when he sees your trembling form trying to calm yourself down.

before you can answer him, two paramedics arrive through the door. they zero in on the blood drying across your forehead. their hands press gently against your skin and ask you questions you try to answer. soon, they move you to a standing position, with your head wound dressed and your vitals checked.

“we’ll take you to the hospital, ma’am”, the older woman explains. with a few steps you are at the door – there, right on the threshold where your nightmare began half an hour ago, stands sungho, chinese take-out and laptop in hand. your fellow teacher looks at you with widened eyes.

“_____ - what the hell?”, he curses and nearly drops his food when you smile at him – your teeth unbeknown to you still tinted red.

“are you her partner?”, the paramedic asks.

“just a friend”, he answers, not letting you out of his sight.

“we have to get her to the hospital – will you accompany us?”, the medic questions and sungho nods. your little crowd moves to the elevator and the security guard closes your door with a soft click. the police will be here soon, he thinks as he watches your beaten figure step onto the elevator.

**

“this cannot be the way to do this, ___”, sungho exclaims while you are staring at the iv-drip connected to your arm in distress. you hate needles.

the hospital’s v.i.p room is normally reserved for celebrities, but they made an exception for you, the girlfriend of min yoongi. sejin’s hunched form outside the room might have played a role in that. bangtan’s manager arrived half an hour ago, worried and disheveled. his posture calmed when the doctors reassured him, you’d be okay. now, he’s waiting for seven idols in various stages of panic to arrive.

“it’s the way this works – just… do as i say, okay?”, you huff. there is a part of you not willing to let the last hours crash into you; not without your partner here. so, you’ve spent the last sixty minutes showing him how to use your new school cloud – the easy way, not the right one.

“but the course still doesn’t show in my settings”, he whines, and you roll your eyes while pushing cold pad thai in your mouth. the rich flavor appeases your hungry stomach and you swallow the take-out down in one breathe. songho is a godsend for bringing the ordered food with him to the hospital. it’s a much-needed distraction from the horror of your cracked rib and light concussion.

“you have to set the course to ‘official’ – it’s still private”, you explain with another mouthful of oily noodles slurring your speech.

sungho’s brows furrow in concentration when you hear heavy footsteps in the hall. the boys are there – and they are not slowing down.

before sejin can even try to greet the idols, yoongi pushes through the door – all six of them only a breath behind.

the second you see him, the tears start without your consent. yoongi looks crazy – his eyes gleam with insanity – as he sucks in the hospital air through his mask.

you’re here. you’re alive. you’re safe. you’re here. he’s here. you are both here. his thoughts are running in circles – not ready to slow down, not ready to expand.

your boyfriend resembles a statue; just standing in front of the hospital bed. his face screams for help and it breaks you as the first cry leaves your throat. in a flash yoongi is moving to you, bumping into a shocked sungho. his finger brush against your wet cheeks like you’d break under his touch, while your body collapses.

“baby”, he whispers – the first word his members have heard since he regained consciousness.

“yoongs”, you answer and throw your arms around his neck. the smell of vomit and sweat makes your nose crunch up, but your boyfriend hugs it all away. his forearms rest on each side of your head – supporting his weight – as he lets you hold on to him, the boyfriend who was playing idol life in the woods instead of being at home with his girlfriend. even through his mask he can breathe in your unique smell, clouded by disinfectant.

“noona”, the youngest whimpers from the doorway. jungkook is silently crying, his mask discolored from the tears. every member looks at you with sorrow, the younger ones visibly not as professional at keeping their emotions together. namjoon looks like he’s aged a decade, but there is a small smile pressing his eyes together behind his mask. you try to reciprocate his smile, but yoongi’s head his pressing against your cheeks with vigor.

“why don’t we give them some space?”, sejin says to which your coworker nods instantly. he’s your friend for sure – but this is a level of intimacy he’s not willing to share with you.

the members need more convincing as hoseok tries to gently pull jungkook back. the maknae vehemently shakes his head, not ready to leave you and yoongi alone.

“we’ll wait right outside, kookie”, seokjin coax him out of the room. he’s still reluctant so go, but jimin’s small body pushes against his back. soon, namjoon closes the door, leaving you alone.

your tears won’t stop and you try to move closer to your boyfriend – you want to feel him all around you. without words yoongi understands your need and presses his body down on yours. there is a sharp pain when his stomach meets your fractured rib.

“ah”, you breathe, hurting. yoongi extracts himself from you in a flash; every fiber of his being furious at your injury.

“baby”, he calls out as his fingers ghost across your ribcage.

“it’ll… it’ll heal soon”, you say timidly.

“how could this happen, baby?”, he asks, still more interested in your upper body than your eyes.

“i-i i should-d have che-checked the door before, ah before answering”, you whimper, ready to face the blame.

with yoongi’s lifestyle comes a certain level of danger. you’ve been trained to be more cautious with everyday things like grocery shopping, inviting new friends over, answering the door without checking the cam.

“no, no, no, no – baby – no…”, he hushes you. “they should have never been able to pass the foyer, nor should they have been able to move to the penthouse level.”

“i-i was so scared”, you admit, linking your fingers with his and pressing them close to your still beating heart.

“i know, baby, me too”, yoongi soothes you and flexes his fingertips against your warm skin.

“i’ve never felt this worthless… you got hurt… right in front of me… and i … i couldn’t do anything.” his voice shakes with emotions and slowly his stare moves to your bruised face. the madness has nearly died in his eyes – but there is still so much pain hidden behind his brown iris.

“i- i could have lost you”, he whispers darkly, speaking a truth into reality he is not ready to face. your crying has stopped now that the both of you are calmer and connected.

“nah, never, remember?”, you say with some form of humor behind your words. “i’m your trophy wife. trophy wives don’t die. first, they’d kill their rich husband”, you remind your boyfriend of your conversation half a lifetime ago.

“it’d be an honor getting murdered by you, baby.” his mask is gone in a flash and then you feel the warmth of his lips against your temple. “just let me finish my third mixtape first.”

**

“don’t move, noona”, jungkook pleads as the warm sunlight irritates your skin. the fresh air is caressing your body while the youngest tries to finish his painting. trees surround the both of you, resting on a soft picnic blanket. it’s the first time since your release from the hospital that yoongi has left you out of his sight. granted, you’re still not totally alone with the strongest bangtan member watching over you like a hawk. but it’s definitely a much-needed break from yoongi’s fretting.

after nearly throwing a tantrum in front of his manager und some staff members who wanted to continue the filming of their new “in the soop” show, all the members knew they’d have to handle their rapper with care. leaving you alone wasn’t an option, so taehyung and seokjin packed your suitcase with essentials and after your doctors determined you ready to rest at home, all eight of you moved back to the chill vacation home in the middle of nowhere.

the last few days have been difficult – the filming staff getting more and more irritated because the members flocked around you 24/7. sejin had to come up with a different schedule allowing every bandmate time to reconnect with you as well as time to do their work. only yoongi was allowed to not leave your side most of the day – him working on the new music being the cover for his absence.

but after days of your boyfriend breathing down your neck, you’ve had enough. so, now yoongi is out on the water with seokjin fishing, while you’re spending time with jungkook.

“when did the police say they are coming?”, you ask the painter. his nose is crunched in concentration as he tries to outline your hipbone.

“they should be here before lunch – if your boyfriend even manages to catch some lunch”, he answers. you snort, messing up his grasp of your proportions.

“i do have faith in seokjin’s ability.” jungkook chuckles but keeps his eyes on your drawing. you look so delicate, so soft, he can’t believe they nearly lost you.

“i got robbed – i didn’t die, kookie”, you read his mind as his eyes darken.

“you got hurt”, he responds through clenched teeth.

“and they’ll pay for that”, you vow. the police had called this morning with the news of your robbers being captured during another crime. you’re still not sure how the officers can be so sure they’re the same criminals, but you’re eager to close this chapter with your statement later that day.

your painting session gets interrupted by namjoon. “the detectives are already here, ____.”

jungkook is by your side in a flash and together with the leader the both of them help you up. the rib is healing and harsh movements still hurt. yoongi had a near meltdown when you tried to ride him yesterday morning only to topple over in pain.

“yoongi and jin don’t have a signal out in the water – but they won’t be long”, namjoon explains and guides you indoors to meet the two officers.

“ms. ______, a pleasure to meet you”, the older policeman says in greeting. the younger one only shifts uncomfortable when he sees you flanked by two famous idols.

“thanks for coming all this way”, you respond and bow slowly, not to put extra pressure on your rib.

“is there somewhere we could talk – uhm- privately?”, the old man asks and you show them to one of the office rooms in the back. jungkook reluctantly leaves your side and joon only squeezes your hand in passing.

“just holler when you need us, _____”, he says before ordering the maknae to clean the art supplies.

with both officers sitting across from you, you nervously fiddle in your chair.

“the two intruders were caught this morning while pawning off their haul”, the younger policeman states and shows you a surveillance picture of two familiar men. their figures alone invoke iced fear in your heart, and you push the picture out of your sight. after a moment of silence, you collect yourself enough to absorb the information.

“what did they steal? i – i didn’t report anything missing, sir”, you question. sure, they trashed the painting yoongi brought for you during your last vacation in italy. and some cloths were thrown across the bedroom – but there was nothing stolen. you even signed your statement last week before leaving for the woods.

the officers look at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“miss, you reported the item missing days ago. there is even a harsh voicemail left with your fiancé demanding a swift investigation.” you shake your head at their words – no, you didn’t.

“which item?”, you ask the men with narrowed eyes. you’d been off the pain meds for days now. but to call yoongi your fiancé? clearly, they’d switched up cases. the older officer opens his briefcase to retrieve a plastic bag with a… ring in it.

“in my days, my wife would have never forgotten about her engagement ring”, the man snickers as you watch the cold metal in front of you. it’s beautiful – it’s so yoongi, you wouldn’t be surprised if he himself crafted the asymmetric diamond set on roughened silver.

you’d dreamed of this moment for over a year – to lay eyes on the ring cementing your future in stone – or diamonds.

never would you have imagined it to be this tainted with two officers starring you down and the jewelry wrapped carelessly in plastic – a piece of evidence – while your boyfriend is fishing with kim seokjin.

“uhm”, you hesitate as emotions swirl around your brain. he was going to propose? to you?

“i had half a panic attack carrying it around with me the whole day – that thing could pay off all my debt, as well as my kid’s college fees”, the officer jokes, still not recognizing your surprise as genuine.

“uhm”, you try again to form words.

“we’ve all the papers here for you to sign; after that we’ll be ready to get out of your hair… for now”, the youngest states and moves different documents across the table. they lie next to yoongi’s engagement ring – your engagement ring.

“uhm”

giving up on forming a coherent sentence, you move along and sign your name on the different protocols. the paper from your insurance company makes your heart still – reading all the zeros on the price of your ring.

this… is by far the worst engagement set up you’ve ever heard of. your hands shack and your signature looks just terrible, but it’s enough for the two detectives. they still don’t seem to find your reaction odd as they collect their stuff and bid you fare well. like a zombie you get up and follow them to the front door, your ring clutched between your fingertips.

jungkook and jimin are waiting for you next to the foyer and jump at the sight of your pale face.

“everything alright?”, jimin asks and places a protective hand on your back. your slow nod does not convince them and their eyes sour at the policemen.

while the younger officer takes a step back, the oldest just chuckles at your idol friends.

“all is well, kids”, he sooths them. then both bow to you and you can only muster an awkward smile, the jewelry heavy in your hand.

“happy wedding planning, ms. ____”, he winks at you before they leave. the soft click of the closing door is the only sound in the hallway. you’re not even sure you’re breathing.

after a beat of silence you flinch at the sound of jimin’s high-pitched squeal.

“weeeedding”, he asks, way too loud and way too joyful. the mochi-cheeked idol excitedly jumps up and down, not really caring that you remain silent.

jungkook on the other hand looks … really upset. “you told the police but not me?”, he whispers betrayed.

you could cry as you feel the headache from your concussion clouding your mind. this is… too much.

“uhm”, you’ve decided to stick with your running-gag answer and push both idols out of your way.

your feet carry you out of the house, through the terrace door and before you know it, you’re running across the green gras. the smell of the lake invades your nose while you search for you boyfriend. yoongi’s boat is still on the water and you spot both men resting against each other with their rods, ready to catch your lunch. sunshine shimmers on the lake’s surface as you run onto the dock. your bare feet press against the wood while your hair rushes around you – the wind breezing through the unkempt strands.

**

“is… is that _____, yoongi?”, seokjin asks his fishing buddy who’s more focused watching the water for prey than his surroundings.

“huh?”, he hums, not really listening to his friend.

“i- i think your girlfriend wants to talk to you, yoongi”, the old singer says hesitantly as he sees you jumping up and down on the wooden dock. this can’t be good for your health.

swiftly, the rapper turns to the spot seokjin is pointing at. and there you stand – beautiful and barefoot, dressed in his t-shirt and some old leggings. your hair is a mess and the sun dances across your skin like the tiniest firework.

“MIN YOONGI”, you shout at the top of your lungs. your boyfriend flinches hearing your loud voice across the water.

“she sounds angry”, seokjin whispers.

“YOU FOOL”, you continue to yell and see seokjin’s shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“oh, i hope the crew gets this on tape”, he says with glee while yoongi really, truly tries to find a reason for your anger. he’s left you alone today, at your request. maybe you didn’t really want him to go? was it a test to see how much he wanted to stay with you? did he fail?

“I GOT YOUR RING!”, you shout and flash the evidence bag high in the air.

immediately, the rapper shoots up from his sitting position, rocking the boat dangerously form side to side.

“yah, yoongi, what the hell?”, seokjin swears but your boyfriend’s eyes rest on you, holding your engagement ring in a plastic bag. there is no air in his lungs – he’s been thinking about this moment for the last two years. he dreamed of your joyful tears, how soft your hands would feel while pushing the silver banner on your finger.

and now… he’s an ocean away from you holding on to the jewelry that got you hurt weeks ago.

“DO YOU WANT TO ASK ME SOMETHING, MIN YOONGI?”, you scream and your boyfriend’s eyes widen when they see the smile on your lips; do you – do you find this funny?

without thinking, he takes a step forward.

You can only watch seokjin’s helpless grimace as yoongi brings the boat out of balance. both idols topple over and splash into the cold sea.

the icy water doesn’t bother the rapper as he pushes to the surface. the sun shines high up while he speeds to the dock. you’ve never seen your boyfriend this determent – his laps forceful and quick, leaving a still shocked seokjin behind.

your fingers shake as you watch him come closer and closer to you. in mere moments he’s close enough for you to hear his heavy breathing.

yoongi heaves himself out of the cold, his shoulder screaming in pain, and then he is dripping in front of you. your boyfriend looks like a wet dog, the black hair plastered to his forehead as he steps forward. you can smell the sea salt across his drenched clothes.

the engagement ring screams from the bag to be acknowledged and yoongi is just… staring at you deeply.

“i had it all planned”, he whispers wringing his sweater. the gush of water drops on the deck, but the idol only looks at you. “weeks ago.” his fingers wrap around your writs, a silent plea to give the ring to its rightful owner – for now.

“i wanted to take you to the restaurant where we had our first date”, he admits and opens the bag. your first date had been a disaster – you’re still vividly remembering the food poisoning.

“then all the restaurants closed down; we were both so stressed… and… life went on”, yoongi continues as the ring dances between his fingertips. it looks like art without the plastic cheapening its presence.

“i... wanted it to be perfect.” his whispered words fall to the floor as he kneels in front of you. warmth is coloring your face, seeing your idol submitting to you.

“baby… you know how much i love you… how much you inspire me every day to become the best version of myself”, yoongi’s voice cracks against his words and you can’t help the softest coo from leaving your lips.

“i promise i’ll make you the best trophy wife of south korea.”

you snort as you hear boyish snicker from behind you at yoongi’s joke.

“will you spend the rest of my life with this ring on your hand?”, he asks and without waiting for an answer, he pushes the silver band on your finger. it fits perfectly.

“am i not supposed to agree first?”, you respond as your eyes stay on your future husband.

“oh baby, you agreed the moment you ate my burned pasta.” yoongi gets up and pushes a lose strand of hair behind your ears.

“you agreed the moment you moved in with me, a struggling insomniac.” his hands cradle your face, framing the expression of love between his palms.

“you agreed the moment you let me change your tampon because you were too drunk to move.” he gives you airy butterfly kisses.

“you agreed the moment you didn’t kill me for stealing your favorite ice cream from the freezer.”

“that actually was a close call”, you chime in, only to hear his soft chuckle.

“you agreed all those nights staying with holly in our shared bed while i traveled across the globe.”

a kiss is planted on the fresh scar across your temple. “you agreed all these moments where my depression was too much, where i was trapped in my own misery.”

a line of kisses travels to your mouth. mere millimeters from your lips he stills. “you do, right?”

under all the layers of love, confidence and familiarity, there is still a shy boy unsure of his worth. your smile is infused with giddiness as you close the gap, pressing your lips together in the softest kiss.

“i do”, you whisper in his mouth, only to meet his tongue with your own in a joyful dance. the boys around you are cheering, while the soft waves of the lake clash against the dock. you’re in pure bliss, kissing your wet fiancé fiercely.

and then you hear a loud thud, a wet slash on the wood. surprised, you both jump away a step – only to see a heaving seokjin lying flat on the deck, chest rising at a fast pace.

“i near- i nearly died for th-this engagement, ____. if – if i’m am not the be-best man, i’ll… will cast a spell on all- all yo-ur children.”

____

ah, this fic is crazy and totally not what i imagined it to become. i hope you enjoyed the read! there is only one chapter left (the stalker) – who’s excited for it? i hope you are doing well! to you, your family and/or loved ones i wish only the most festive time this week! love, dana

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Law of Attraction (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader cannot understand how Spencer is in a relationship with someone who is his complete opposite. 

A/N: Hello Everyone!!! Here’s another story from the secret-fic-swap in the Discord server. I tried my hand at a new genre and I like how it came out. A big thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins​ for helping me make this real nice for y’all (this story was also written to her). Enjoy!

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings: If you’re a fan of Max or Maxcer, this may not be the story for you. Sacrifices needed to be made for this story to be told. 

Word Count: 4.2K

Masterlist

The thought that the concept of ‘opposites attract’ was only true when it comes to physics. After all, the comparison of people to magnets doesn’t make any sense. If two people are together, there should be some similarities to build an established relationship, right? Without that foundation, the structure will surely crumble back into the fragmented pieces that created it, leaving them cracked and weaker for it.

Compatibility is necessary, yet there is none whenever I look at them. This is the fourth function that he has brought her to, and with each event, I find it harder to look their way. But when I do find them among the crowd, I can’t look away. Like a car crash or thunderstorm ripping tree roots from the ground.

It doesn’t make sense to me, why on earth would Spencer Reid be with a girl like her.

“If you keep staring at her, she might drop dead,” said a sarcastic voice, breaking me out of my reverie. I turned to see Tara with an amused smile occupying her face.

“I just don’t get it,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on the drink in my hand.

“What’s not to get?” she asked, glancing over at the couple in question. “They seem cute together.”

“They have nothing in common. He might as well be talking to some random person in this bar.”

I chugged the remainder of my beverage with desperate hope that the alcohol will somehow make things better in this situation. It didn’t.

“You sound bitter.”

“I am not bitter,” I bit back.

“I didn’t say you were, I said you sound.”

I didn’t respond to her because deep down I knew she was right. I just fiddled with the straw in my now empty glass as Tara continued, “Look, they both like coffee and going to the park, that’s something.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped my throat at the thought.

“So do half the people on the administration floor, he might as well have a harem if those are the main qualifications.”

“So what type of person should Spencer Reid have?” she asked, an eyebrow arching up as she focused her attention on me.

“I don’t know. Someone who is family-oriented and loves kids. Someone who doesn’t judge him for his idiosyncrasies. Someone who listens to his rambles and actually responds to them. Someone who he can escape to when things get too tough. Someone who understands when to give him space but will continue to support him unconditionally. Someone who can challenge him and make each day exciting and interesting. Someone who can ke—”

“Whoa there, I didn’t think you were going to give me a whole novel.” If she thought that was a novel, then the rest of what I wanted to say would be considered an encyclopedia. The only one that Spencer would never read.  

“I just want him to be happy,” I relented.

It was the simple truth. Everyone deserves some sort of contentment in their life, but with everything that Spencer has gone through in the past, his happiness should be at the forefront. He always put others before himself. It was time that someone prioritizes his wants and needs for a change.

“And she doesn’t make him happy?”

Not in the slightest. 

But I didn’t want to say that. I was sure half of the team already thought, or knew, that I was infatuated with him. But I didn’t need to give them the satisfaction of a confirmation by talking about this any further. The looks that Tara had been giving me the past few minutes validated my belief that I didn’t need to dig myself into a deeper hole.

“Maybe,” I said, hoping to put an end to the topic.

But just then, I heard a laugh despite how noisy the place was. I knew without a doubt that was Spencer’s laugh – it was the only sound that would demand my attention that quickly. It was the one he used when he felt uncomfortable.

“Excuse me, Tara.”

I didn’t give her a chance to reply before I hopped off the barstool and made my way to where Spencer and his girl were as casually as possible. Jennifer and Penelope were also with them, and it seems as if the three ladies were doing most of the talking.

“….like kids someday?” I heard Pen say. I didn’t need to hear the beginning of the sentence to know what it was about.

“Ehh, certainly not. My nephew is a handful as is, I don’t think I need any more than that one in my life,” she laughed. She, of course, being the ever loving, ever annoying, Max. A quick glance at Spencer's face confirmed that he was bothered by the subject being discussed. If the rest of the ladies were a bit more sober, they’d probably have seen it too.

“Hey guys,” I interrupted, taking my previous seat next to JJ, “I ordered some water for us and some appetizers. Tara is going to bring it over when it is ready.”

Cheers and thank you were shouted across the small table, but there was only one face I cared to pay attention to. Spencer’s mouth was quirked in a sad smile that was meant to hide the discomfort that had already taken root in his heart like an invasive vine.

“Did you place my fries order?” Max asked, garnering my attention. As much as I wanted to ignore her, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t openly be a bitch to her, no matter how much she irked me. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Other than stealing the affections of a man I’d never actually pursued, that is. But I couldn’t really blame her for that one, right? I should’ve jumped on the opportunity before. It was my fault.

“Yup,” I answered quickly with a small fake smile before focusing on the wooden décor of the bar.

“So any plans for Halloween? Assuming we don’t get called in for a case of course,” JJ asked the table.

“There is this pop-up haunted house coming that weekend.” Spencer said, his voice laced with that childlike excitement that made my heart race, “It is near the annual fair, so I’m going to try and do both.”

“Awww, that’s a cute date idea.”

The table was silent for a moment before Max announced, “I probably won’t go. I am not a big fan of anything spooky or… horror. I’ll leave all of that to this guy.”

The table shared an awkward laugh in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Anyway,” I coughed out, attempting to save this poor conversation, “you guys need to hear this terrible joke the bartender told me. So basically, this screwdriver walks into a bar….” and just like that, the topic had been changed.

Tara joined us shortly after and the conversation remained lighthearted for the remainder of the evening. We later said our farewells and readied ourselves to go back home. While I should’ve been sad to leave him, I couldn’t help but feel a bitter joy from the fact that Spencer and Max didn’t talk directly to each other for the rest of the night.

●●●

It’s been a couple of weeks since the last team outing. Rossi must’ve missed us, because he decided to host a dinner at his place to celebrate the ending of a long and tough case. No one was going to pass up the opportunity of free food and wine, especially after dealing with a bunch of cops and detectives with entire tree trunks up their asses.

I was the last to arrive, which was not surprising since I live the furthest away from Rossi. Krystall welcomed and settled me in while informing me where everyone was. What I assumed was a team gathering turned out to be a whole party. There were definitely more than two dozen people occupying the space.

Good god. 

“What’s all this?” I asked as I greeted Rossi in the, thankfully, empty kitchen. Because, of course, Rossi wouldn’t be Rossi if he didn’t take care of all the hors d'oeuvres himself.

“Krystall wanted to celebrate our anniversary,” he sighed, as if this ordeal was somehow troublesome. I had to roll my eyes; he wasn’t fooling anyone. We all knew that Rossi would move mountains for his wife.

Their love was pure and genuine, a perfect example of two people meeting again at the right time and sharing something wonderful with one another. As I reminisced on their beautiful wedding day, a thought came to my head.

“Isn’t your first anniversary coming up in a few months?”

“That’s for our second marriage, this is for the first.” Rossi simply stated with a proud smirk, as if it was standard to celebrate any and all anniversaries in life. I supposed that for him, it was.

“Why do I get the feeling that this was more your idea than Krystall’s?”

“Guilty.”

Classic. Well, I wasn’t going to tell a man what he should celebrate nor how to do so. I wasn’t going to ruin any opportunities to eat some fresh crostini.

Once I made my way back out into the main room, I was able to find my team within seconds. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer’s tall and lanky form. And I would’ve been excited for that, if it weren’t for the familiar woman standing beside him.

Max was there. Hooray.

Usually, I was able to properly prepare myself for seeing her. It actually, unfortunately, took a lot of effort to not be openly hostile to someone I dislike. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but it was true. Typically in a situation like this, I’d avoid the person all night. However, I wasn’t going to allow her presence to influence the night, much less stop me from spending time with one of my closest friends.

“Hey guys.”

“Ahh, you’re finally here,” squealed Penelope, “I already grabbed your favorite drink!” She stepped aside to make room for me in the small gathered circle before handing me the glass.

“So what did I miss?”

They all caught me up on the harmless gossip circulating around the office and the new happenings emerging in everyone’s lives. Everything was going well until I heard the next words from Max, words that felt like a bucket of ice water and lead being poured over my head.

“Well, Spencer and I are moving in together.”

Time slowed down, I was sure it had. Because I was able to gauge everything in a matter of seconds. Tara’s concerning glance my way, her hand reaching out and retreating as if to hold me. Penelope’s joyful appearance over the news, her arms rising quickly causing her wine to slightly spill on Rossi’s floor. Matt expressing congratulations as he roughly patted Spencer on the back.

And Spencer….

Spencer looked like he rather be anywhere but here. His lips were drawn in a too tight smile that I knew was far from authentic. He was tapping his heel against the floor and wringing his hands together.

If this was merry news from the two of them, why did he look like he swallowed a spiked fruit?

The loud clanging of metal against glass brought everyone’s attention to the noisy source. Time returned back to its normal pace at Rossi’s call, thanking everyone for joining in on the celebration and announcing that the food was ready in the dining room.

While everyone cheered and made their way towards the ornate display, I headed to the balcony. It was too hot, too stuffy, too loud inside the house. There was one too many people there.

As soon as I passed through the double doors, I took a deep breath of cool, refreshing air. Everything around me felt muffled. Like I had stumbled into a small pocket universe that only differed from ours by a few notches on the volume knob.

I was thinking too many things, and none of them adding up or making sense in my head. How do you move in with someone you’ve only known for such a short amount of time? What was he going to do with his apartment? With his personal belongings that were scattered and settled on crowded shelves? Why did he look so uncomfortable when she announced it? Did he not want us to know? Did he want to say it himself?

“What are you doing out here?”

As if being brought back to reality by the very same hypnotist who enchanted me in the first place, I became aware that I was not the only one on the balcony. I turned to look at Spencer, taking in his disheveled and tired appearance.

“I just needed some space. I was feeling a bit crowded.” It wasn’t a lie, but my companion and I both knew there was a lot more than just that. Trying to keep the attention off me, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you. I saw you come out here dressed like that and wondered what would drag you out into the freezing cold.”

Now that he mentioned it, the breeze was hitting hard. I didn’t notice my body trembling until now. It is funny how you can’t feel much when lost in your own thoughts. The pain was a welcome distraction, I supposed.

Spencer stood next to me and shrugged off the suit jacket he was wearing. I opened my mouth to refuse, but he gave me a pointed look before I could. Instead, I accepted the warm jacket over my body. The scent of cinnamon and spice immediately enveloped my form and I tried to hide the way my inhales grew deeper. Trying to keep him as close as I could for however long he would allow. He kept his hands on my arms, rubbing them up and down the sleeves of the jacket to instill some heat in me.  

“So whatever happened to taking it slow?” I asked bluntly, keeping my eyes on the interesting speck of dirt that had ended up on my shoe. I didn’t feel bad about getting to the point -- There was no way I could subtly ask him what the deal was, and I’d rather not beat around the bush.

“Well, after the whole situation that happened, sh— we decided to pick up the pace of things,” he spoke lowly, as if he was unsure of the words coming out of his mouth.

“Has she even met Diana? Or know about her?” I instantly regretted asking, the angry look he shot my way had me feeling remorseful. But it also answered my question.

Max only knew the surface level of Spencer. She wasn’t aware of all the good, bad, beautiful, and ugly layers that comes with a man like him. She wasn’t the only one to blame, but I wondered how a profiler couldn’t tell that he was hiding those parts from her because he didn’t want to share them with her. He didn’t want her to know, because the knowing made it real.

“I just want the best for you.”

His irritated expression dissolved into a defeated one as he released the breath he was holding.

“I know, I know. It’s just…”

He stopped talking, appearing scared to share his opinions and feelings with me before he remembered that, unlike Max, he never had to hide things from me. He didn’t want to.

“It’s just…” I prodded, hoping he would continue with what he was going to say.

But he just stayed stuck there, opening and closing his mouth multiple times. I could practically see the cogs in his brain whirling as he properly tried to explain. “Well, the thing is that Ma—”

“Spencer?”

We sharply turned our heads to see Max and Tara staring at us. It wasn’t until that moment that I remembered our position. With Spencer’s hands rubbing tenderness heat onto my arms, his jacket over my shoulders and our bodies pressed together to keep warm.

It would be one thing if everything was settled, but this situation was anything but. Max had every reason to be angry. This wasn’t a new thing to her. So when she turned around, she stomped away fueled by the belief that she’d nearly caught her boyfriend committing adultery. Again.

“Fuck,” I heard the man in front of me whisper as he released me back into the cold night.

Still, as he left, he looked back at me. His eyes burned into mine up until he tore them away, making his final decision and hastily running from the balcony. Away from me. Towards her.

Tara and I shared the silence, but she looked at me with those inquisitive eyes, as if I was a client seeking out therapy from her.  

“What?” I hissed, “We were just talking.” I refused to feel guilty over something that I didn’t do. If anyone had done anything, it was Spencer. But at the same time, I didn’t think he was entirely wrong, either.  

“I didn’t say anything,” she muttered, holding her hands up high as a sign of surrender.

“You didn’t have to, I can feel the judgment from here.”

“Look, I’m not judging you. But I do want you to put yourself in Max’s shoes. You guys were gone for a while and she finds you two all over each other.”

“What are you talking about, Tara? Christ, it’s not like I was fucking him on the balcony!”

Although I didn’t intend for my words to be humorous, Tara laughed. I was conflicted on whether it was at me or with me, but it ended up amounting to nothing, anyway.

“Look, the night is young and you need to relax. Come back inside, enjoy the party, and don’t let them bring you down. At least for the next few hours.”

She was right, as she usually was. It was why I usually sought her out as the voice of reason; I knew that despite everything, she would always have my best interest at heart.

“Okay,” I agreed before following her back into the chaotic fray.

I heeded her advice and avoided the couple for the remainder of the night. Shockingly, it was pretty easy, but I was sure it was because they were avoiding me too. There were times, lots of times, where Spencer and I made eye contact, but we’d just as quickly look away, as if we were ashamed of what we have done.

All we did was talk. So why did it feel like something more?

There were also times when I made eye contact with Max, but instead of shame, there was anger and contempt. If looks could kill, like Tara had suggested, I was sure my heart would have given out.

It wasn’t until later in the evening that I saw Max take a cab home while Spencer was still inside the house. No one else but me noticed that they didn’t leave the party together.

●●●

I hadn’t seen Spencer since the incident at Rossi’s a few weeks ago. He had to take his mandatory sabbatical leave and I had to take an abrupt trip back home. What used to be almost daily texts between us became nonexistent in a matter of hours. It was a terrible predicament that I was hoping to fix soon.

As I arrived, I spotted him at his desk. For a long time, I stood there staring at him. If he wasn’t nose deep in a bunch of files, I was sure he would’ve seen me, too. I contemplated on how I should go up to him, but nothing I could think of was good enough to say. 

Hey, I have your jacket, I took it to the dry cleaner’s, so it is all clean. Rid of me like you wanted to be. 

Hi, how were the lectures this time around? Still have a bunch of teens crushing on you?

What’s up, it’s been a while, do you want to get lunch during the break?

I hated that things were awkward, even though I was pretty sure that I was the only one that was making it so. I should have just gone up to him, greeted him, and acted like everything was normal, because everything was normal. Right?

Just when I was about to do so, Emily called us in for a meeting. Impeccable timing.

We had a serial killer case in Louisville, Kentucky. My situation with Spencer was going to the backburner.

During our stay in Louisville, Spencer and I barely interacted. We exchanged notes and passed long messages, but that’s pretty much it. I wasn’t surprised. Our specialties don’t really correlate when we are working on a case. Anytime I did catch some free time, I’d look his way, longing for the opportunity to speak to him. He didn’t look back.

Then, just as the case ended, another chance presented itself. After five days of hardly any proper rest, we finally found the unsub. Everyone was in their respective room catching up on some much needed sleep. Except for Spencer, whose gangly body was tucked away at the bar by himself, a glass of what appeared to be soda in front of him.

Silently, I took the seat next to him, and for a few minutes, everything was quiet. But unlike the usual, comfortable quiet, it was torturous.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I stared at him, letting the silent communication denote the fact that I knew he was lying to me. Spencer released a sigh and looked at me with eyes more intoxicating than any whiskey that shared their color.

“Actually, no, I’m not okay.”

I was going to ask him what was wrong or if there was anything I could do to help, but before I had the chance to do so, he hastily answered the question I hadn’t asked.

“Max and I broke up.”

I stared at him, my face and mind blank as I tried to comprehend what he’d said. That Max and Spencer broke up. They were no longer together. Spencer was single.

I thought that if this ever happened, I would be happy, elated, jumping at the chance to take her place by his side. But I felt none of those things.

“What happened?” I didn’t want to appear nosy or meddlesome, but I needed to know.

“We were fighting a lot, and I couldn’t take it.”

“Oh.”

“We were… actually fighting about you.”

I sharply turned my head at him, both intrigued and disturbed by the implication that I had anything to do with the failure of their relationship.

“What? What about me?”

“She thought I liked you,” he said while staring straight back at me, daring me to scan through each fleck of gold and green to ensure that he was telling the truth. But his hazel eyes expressed nothing but honesty as he continued, “and she was right. I do.”

“Y-you do?”

All he could do was nod his head, lifting his hand and catching a loose strand of hair before tucking it behind my ear.

“Can I try something?” Spencer shyly requested.

Once again, the universe felt different. I held my breath, trying to wake from the dream. Although he didn’t say it, I had an idea of what he wanted. If the hand on the side of my face and the staring at my lips were anything to go by, I knew what was going to happen next.

I nodded back and closed my eyes. A few seconds passed, the sweetest kind of anticipation. But then I felt the gentle pressure of his lips against my own, sweet and tender. He moved his head to get a better angle while I brought my hands up to cup his face. The roughness of his stubble against the tip of my fingers was a perfect contrast to the softness of him. I could taste the soda he was drinking on his tongue and breathed in the cinnamon scent that seemed sunken into his skin.

When we pulled away, it was full of hesitation. All it took was one look for us to know we couldn’t do this. Not now, not yet. He was still healing from the recent break up and I didn’t want to be a rebound. I didn’t want us to resent one another for jumping into a relationship so soon. We weren’t ready.

We sat there in relative silence, taking in everything that has happened.

“Maybe one day,” he paused “one day we can give it a chance.”

“Yes. I’d like that.” I beamed at him, “And I look forward to that day. Until then, we remain as friends.”

He returned my smile and I realized that it had been a while since I’ve seen his real smile. I missed it so much.

“Friends,” he confirmed.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt relief and comfort. Because I knew everything was going to be okay. I had hope that someday Spencer will get the happily ever after he deserves and he’ll get it with me by his side. One day.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

WPP - Kenny (We’re The Millers)

This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I was struggling to finish it, but, a bright light ascended from the heavens, in the form of an angel, and that angel’s name is @gladerscake

Big thanks to them for helping me out and finishing this imagine. Go follow them and give all the love and support you can muster!

~~~~~~~~~~

Being in the witness protection program was...interesting.

It definitely was not what you were expecting, but then again, you didn’t know helping out a person you cared about would get you involved in a murder, yet here you are.

You had to leave everything behind, not that you had that much of a life to begin with, but it was comfortable. Now, everything was different. New home in a new state, even a new last name. Thankfully, you got to keep your first name, you were grateful for that at least.

You were surprised to find the most annoying thing was the neighbourhood that the program placed you in. It’s like it was made for Mormons or something, your neighbours were too nice, at least the house to the right of yours. You didn’t really know who lived in the house to the left, working from home had the benefit of never going outside and the only reason you knew who lived to your right was cause those neighbours were the type of people to introduce themselves.

Yuck.

But still, you couldn’t help but be a little curious.

You did know, however, that they had only recently moved in since the one morning truck woke up before your alarm rang that morning. You were grouchy the rest of the day, thus you’ve been slightly petty towards your “new” neighbours since then. You definitely needed to work on your attitude...one day.

After being inside your house for more than a week, you decided you wanted some vitamin D, which you rarely ever did so you must’ve been seriously deprived.

You walked out of the door leading to the backyard with a book in hand, frowning when you saw how overgrown the grass was from your laziness. You told yourself you’d do it later, and by later you meant you would mow your yard when you started to hate yourself enough to the point where you felt too guilty leaving it alone.

You huffed as you sat in one of your lawn chairs that you bought when you moved in, lying to yourself that you were going to spend more time outside when you knew you wouldn’t. A first for everything, you supposed.

A few chapters in, you heard a door open and shut in your neighbour’s backyard, but you thought nothing of it, almost too entranced in your book.

You smiled to yourself when you started to hear 1990s R&B playing softly, not your cup of tea but you enjoyed it occasionally. Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls had just started playing when you heard the neighbour’s back door slammed. “Dude, turn that shit off! You’ve been playing that song constantly and I’m actually getting sick of it. God.” You heard an angsty female voice.

Oh no...you lived next a family.

“Hey!”

You flinched, noticing a blonde girl was talking you. “Uh, hey?” You slowly closed your book, reluctantly walking over to the fence separating the backyards when the girl motioned you over.

“Haven’t seen you around before, just move in?” She asked, smirking slightly, looking you up and down.

You mocked her smirk, not liking the almost condescending look she was giving you. “No, been here for awhile. That’s how I know you’ve only just moved in a few weeks ago.”

The girl’s smirk only grew. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Casey, and that loser is Kenny.” She pointed to the table behind her, seeing a blonde boy sitting somewhat dejectedly in one of the chairs fiddling with a small CD player. “Hey, TLC, get over here!” The boy looked to Casey with a panicked expression, visibly looking like he wasn’t sure if the girl meant it or not. She rolled her eyes, “Come on, dude!”

The boy nodded, frantically walking away to join Casey at the fence. “Hey.” He stuttered, blushing when he noticed your eyes on him.

Casey rolled her eyes yet again. “Yeah, this is Kenny.”

Kenny waved quite adorably, giving you a tight lipped smile. “Did you just move in?”

“No, I-”

“We’ve already had this talk, she’s been here longer than we have.” Casey interrupted, making your blood boil a little bit, her attitude almost worse than yours.

Kenny frowned slightly, but covered it up with a smile. “Oh.”

“Yep. We’ve already become besties.” You said sarcastically, grinning widely, making Kenny genuinely smile a little.

“Kids!” A middle aged man with a stupid haircut, to you anyway, walked over with hesitant look on his face. “Who’s this?”

“Y/N, your neighbour that’s lived here longer than you have. Saved you the trouble of telling him yourself, Casey.” You sneered.

“Oh. Well, I’m David and we’re the Millers! My wife, Sarah, is at the market right now, but I’m sure she’d be glad to meet you sometime.” He smiled widely, making you uncomfortable.

“Uh, dad, chill out. You’re gonna scare away the only girl I find suitable to be friends with in this shit neighbourhood.” Casey whispered harshly.

You didn’t really want to be friends with Casey, you never really got along with girls. Clearly, reading outside was a bad choice...

“Ha ha, if you sass me one more time today, you will be grounded young lady.” David forced another smile.

“Uh, Dad...”

“Shut up, Kenny.”

You quickly realized where the Kenny kid was in the family food chain. It was a shame, the dude was pretty easy on the eyes and seemed nice from what you’ve seen. “Look, I’m just gonna go. Nice meeting you fine folks...” You waved awkwardly, turning around and practically speed walking inside your house.

Well, that was fun...never going outside ever again.

The overall encounter put you in a sour mood, so when the doorbell rang you prayed to god that it wasn’t the yearly check in with law enforcement cause you’d probably get yourself in trouble with that attitude of yours.

You were mildly shocked to see that awkward Kenny guy outside your door, his eyes trained on his feet before you opened the door. “Kenny Miller, right?”

“Uh...yeah, Miller. Uh, I just want to apologize for my, uh, family’s behavior. They don’t have the best of manners, but they’re good people, I swear!” He ranted at such a quick pace that it almost flew right over your head. “So, yeah, sorry.”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “You don’t have to be sorry, especially on the behalf of your family. They don’t seem like the type to appreciate it anyway.”

His eyes widened, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “No, no, no, it’s not like that! They, uh, appreciate me.” You kept your mouth shut, giving him a sympathetic look with a soft smile. He sighed. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“To me, it is. I’ve been in that situation before, so it’s not that hard to notice.”

“Oh...well, they can be nice sometimes I guess.”

“I hope so. Well, it was nice to meet you, Kenny.” You stuck your hand out, smiling when he hesitated but shook your outstretched hand gently.

A week later, you and Kenny actually became friends despite the two of you being almost complete opposites. He was able to poke through your cynical exterior, which was extremely rare for someone to do. He made you laugh, smile, and actually enjoy life when you were with him. You didn’t like it at first, but his adorkable personality won you over.

Kenny was more than overjoyed, he finally had a friend, not one out of pity anyway. The first time you two had hung out, he came “home” with a huge grin on his face. Of course, Casey had to tease him about it all the time.

“I still don’t understand how she can be friends with that loser and not me!” Casey ranted. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Casey, stop calling Kenny a loser, please.” Sarah sighed, tapping away on her keyboard.

As soon as Sarah said that, Kenny walked through the door with another grin on his face. “Hey, Ma!”

“You don’t have to call me that here, hon.” Sarah voiced, shutting her laptop and walking out of the kitchen, but she smiled to herself.

“Pop your cherry yet?” Casey smirked evilly.

Kenny immediately blushed. “I told you, we’re just friends...”

She rolled her eyes. “You obviously want to be more than just friends with her. You should just ask her out and get it over with.”

“But...Melissa...”

Casey huffed loudly. “Dude, I already told you, she’s probably moved on by now. She was a total babe, she can and probably has done way better than you.”

“Hey...” Kenny frowned, to which Casey just shrugged, her eyes training back to her phone. He sighed as he sat down across from his “sister.” “I do like her...but I don’t know how to bring it up. I’m awful at talking to girls about...that kind of stuff.”

Casey snorted. “Yeah, no kidding.” But she dropped her amused smirk when she saw Kenny glaring. “Sorry, sorry.” She sassed. “I mean, it did work out with the ginger to be fair, but we have to stay in this shithole until further notice. But I really do think you should shoot your shot with what’s her name.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just-”

“That girl is bad news.” David suddenly voiced, walking into the kitchen.

“What do you mean by that?” Casey asked.

“Uh, hello? Pay attention to your surroundings instead of that stupid phone of yours to see that we are in witness protection. We can’t trust any of these creepy neighbours.”

“Uh, I think you’re a tad bit paranoid, father dearest.”

“Y/N’s really cool though!” Kenny expressed.

David rolled his eyes. “But we don’t really know her, we don’t know if she’s a snitch or something.”

Casey laughed. “Wow, you really are paranoid, dude.”

“Ha ha, very funny, just go to your room and listen to your Metallicas and AC/DCs.”

Casey’s face contorted into a disgusted scowl. “I don’t listen to that garbage.”

“Shut up.” David simply replied, making Casey stand up and storm out of the room and up the stairs. “Look, Ken, I get you like this girl, but you need to be careful. Don’t say things you shouldn’t and all that. You have a tendency to not know when to shut your mouth. So, don’t do that, kay?”

Kenny nodded curtly, avoiding David’s eyes as he felt his face heat up in slight anger. He knew he had some...issues with keeping his mouth shut about things that should be kept a secret, but he grew up, right? He’s not as naïve as he was before they went to Mexico, but his “family” still treated him like he was five. Plus, he knew you weren’t the type to be a snitch.

While Kenny was dealing with feeling underappreciated, you were having your own set of issues to handle. Today was the day for a check up with law enforcement to make sure you were on your best behavior. You always were, but it still made you anxious to no end. And you prayed that Kenny wouldn’t rush in to your house like he got into the habit of doing when you were interrogated.

Of course, that didn’t happen. 

“For fuck’s sake...” You muttered under your breath when you saw Kenny’s shocked and scared face when he saw you sitting with a couple local police officers.

On your end, it just looked like he was scared of police officers. But Kenny’s mind immediately went haywire, thinking that you called them over to investigate them even though the police were already informed of “the Millers” situation. 

“Kenny, now’s not a good time.” You sighed.

“No, no, it’s okay.” The police officer in front of you said. “We’re done here anyway.” He walked out of your house with his partner, leaving you and Kenny in an awkward silence.

“What was that all about?” Kenny asked, not being able to control the bitter tone in his voice. “Did you think we’re that bad or something?”

“Kenny, I-”

“We’ve been doing really well here!” Kenny interrupted. “No problems with anybody, been on our best behavior.”

“Kenny.”

“I don’t wanna go to jail. I can’t go to jail. We’ve only been here for a couple months.”

“Kenny, stop!” You finally yelled, losing your temper. “They were here to check up on me, for fuck’s sake.”

Kenny’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but still had a slight expression of panic. “Here for you? B-But-”

“I’m in witness protection, you dweeb, same as you.”

“Oh...Wait, how did you know I’m in witness protection?”

“Your family,” You finger quoted, “looks nothing like you. All of you don’t look anything alike. How paranoid and secretive that David is, it wasn’t too hard to put things together. You rambling off like an absolute moron a minute ago just reaffirmed my theory.”

Kenny frowned. “Dang, I thought I had worked on that.”

You smiled slightly. “It’s alright, Ken. I’m no snitch, and I’m not very judgmental about someone’s past. What did you even do though? You’re definitely not the type to break the law.” You chuckled.

“Oh, well, we kinda smuggled some drugs across the Mexican border.” He stuttered.

“Holy shit, dude! That’s sick! What was it? Was it coke?” You grinned, eager to learn.

Kenny blinked at your excitement, but obliged to all your questions, sitting down next to you. “No, it was marijuana.”

Your face slightly dropped in excitement. “Oh. I really think weed should be legal. It’s stupid, it’s not even a hard drug.”

“Well, we’re lucky we even made it out alive. But what did you go through to get yourself here?”

Now, you definitely didn’t judge past crimes of others, if they’ve atoned for it and changed that is, but you had no idea if Kenny would judge you. You actually found yourself not wanting him to look at you in a different light, and you’ve never felt that way before. 

Kenny seemed perfectly sweet, almost too sweet to judge anyone, but on the other hand...the stuff that had landed you in the program was definitely heavier than some weed smuggling. 

Maybe it would be too much for him. Maybe it would be best to just make something up, something less horrible, something he wouldn’t be too shocked by.  As tempting as that route felt, the idea of lying to him weirdly didn’t sit well with you, though. 

Kenny was quick to notice the lengthy pause that followed his question, as well as the way your shoulders tensed and your eyes averted to the parquet floor. Oh no. Had he pried into something too personal? Was he an idiot for asking?

“Oh, um...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” Kenny hurried to assure you, slight panic beginning to etch his bluish-green eyes, his fists clenching and unclenching involuntarily. “I was just curious, is all! I’m sorry if it’s too persona-“ 

“It’s okay!” To his surprise, you pulled on a tight-lipped smile, giving him a look as nonchalant as you could manage at the moment. “Really, you don’t have to apologize for asking. Plus, you already told me about your thing, so...” You trailed off, softly, wondering how to proceed. 

As much as you resented the thought of Kenny seeing you differently, you decided even that unpleasant outcome would still be better than lying to him. You’d rather not. You liked Kenny. Despite not having spent a tremendous amount of time together, you could tell he was a genuinely good person, and you definitely enjoyed his company. Not to mention, it would be a blatant lie if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him. 

Casey may have spent most of their interactions calling him a “loser” in some form or another, but you couldn’t be farther away from agreeing with her. A part of you was positively annoyed with the way she treated him. Then again, taste is subjective. It wasn’t Casey’s fault if she didn’t have a good sense of it. 

With a deep intake of air, you nervously flipped a loose strand of hair over your shoulder, still avoiding direct eye-contact with Kenny. “I, uh...It’s a rough one, really. And kind of a long story. I wouldn’t wanna dump something like that on you, if you’d rather not hear it” 

He tentatively pursed his plump lips, but nonetheless nodded for you to keep going. “I’m sure I can handle it! Whatever it is, I’m not gonna judge you, Y/N. I promise!” 

Promise, huh? Guess you were going to have to see about that. 

Trying to ignore the rapidly increasing pace of your heart and slight tremble in your fingers, you began your story. 

You didn’t want to go into too much detail, for the fear of oversharing, but you did tell him as much as you felt you could. About how you used to have a friend...a pretty close friend, who you cared about a great deal, who had always been kind and generous, alas, a bit of a troublemaker.

About how she had fallen in with the wrong crowd, something you admittedly failed to see coming. How that crowd turned out to be a notoriously vicious gang that had it out for some other poor girl, who had apparently slept with one of the gang leaders’ boyfriend without realizing it. 

How that gang, your friend included, lured her onto a rooftop to “fuck with her” and “teach her a lesson.” Only that night, they went too far and ended up pushing her off. The girl died instantly, and due to the heaping pile of evidence, it wasn’t a particularly long investigation. Almost everyone involved were arrested shortly after, and you, having been brought in as one of the witnesses, had a choice whether you wanted to testify against your friend or not. 

At first you weren’t sure if you wanted to do that and make matters worse for her. However, after some much-needed reflection and consideration, you decided it would be the right thing to do. Someone had died, and your friend played a part in it. You couldn’t turn a blind eye to something that big simply because you two were close. 

Your friend was put away, along with several other gang members. Still, quite a few of them were still out there, and they definitely seemed like the type to hold serious grudges. You were no longer safe at your former home, and now...well, there you where. 

Kenny listened intently all the while, not once daring to interrupt, not even to ask a question. By the way your breathing had hitched and your lips had stuttered at certain parts, he could tell how hard that must’ve been for you to go through in the first place, and how unsettling it was for you to revisit those moments in order to share your story with him. 

You didn’t notice, but as you were nearing the end, Kenny had inched to sit closer to you, his large hand carefully landing on your shoulder with a soft but warm-hearted squeeze. He had briefly hesitated in making that move, but the need to offer you comfort and reassurance overpowered his nervousness. His only hope was that you wouldn’t flinch at his touch, and so he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him when you did no such thing. 

“So...that’s about it. Sorry, I know it’s a fucking bummer story, compared to your weed smuggling adventure.” You attempted a chuckle, only it came out as more of a sad scoff. 

Your heart was still pounding and you were still reluctant to look up at him. Although, as you finally noticed Kenny’s warm hand gently squeezing your shoulder, you felt a soothing brush of comfort spread through your limbs, and you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. 

“Whoa...that’s...I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Kenny frowned, unsure of what the right thing to say could be. 

“It’s okay, really. I’ve had some time to process it and move on. Well...not completely, but I’d say I’m doing much better now.” 

Kenny went silent for a minute, clearly still digesting the information, and the worries you had about him looking at you differently came back in full force. You opened your mouth to ask him about it, but he beat you by a millisecond, speaking first. “Why...why were you so nervous about telling me?” 

So he had noticed. Figures. The art of the poker face wasn’t something you’d ever truly mastered. It sometimes annoyed you how easy your anxious state was to spot, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. 

“I don’t know, I...I guess I didn’t want you to see me as a snitch or judge me-“

“Judge you?” Kenny interrupted, sounding confused about the mere insinuation. “For what, not sticking up for your friend when she had got herself involved in a murder?” 

“I mean, she was still my friend, so...” 

“So what? That doesn’t change the fact that she got in the middle of something so horrible, that could’ve been avoided, if she had paid more attention to who she hung around.” 

You couldn’t say you had expected that. It was almost weird hearing Kenny talk that way, but you were definitely relieved to hear where he so firmly stood in regards to the whole “judging you” idea. 

You bit your bottom lip in agitation as a thought you had been wrestling with for a while creeped its way into your mind again. “Sometimes I feel like maybe I could’ve done something...could’ve checked up on her more or somehow stopped her from hanging out with them...maybe I could’ve kept her from having anything to do with it.” Your voice grew quieter, sounding barely above a whisper as guilt flashed through your eyes, your muscles tensing, uneasily, at the thought. Kenny was immediately closer, his arm wrapping around you, as if trying to shelter you from your own thoughts. 

“Come on, don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. You can’t control the actions of others, not even your friends. Least of all your friends, probably.” 

You allowed a small smile to touch the corner of your lips as you instinctively leaned into Kenny, his closeness calming you, his soft reassurances shushing the self-deprecating thoughts he could sense looming over you. 

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. I just try not to think about it often, it really sucks diving into that stuff.” 

“Of course it sucks. I just hope you know that none of it was even a little bit your fault. From what I can tell after spending some time with you...you’re a really good person, Y/N.” 

You looked up at him, noting the way your faces were only a few inches apart by that point. The close proximity brought a rosy tinge to your cheeks. “You think so?” 

“I do! Why wouldn’t I? You’re smart, you’re funny when you want to be, you’re great to be around, and heck, you’re one of the very few people I know who doesn’t make me feel like I’m constantly doing something wrong.” 

Hearing that made you simultaneously happy and sad. With the way Kenny’s “family” treated him almost around the clock, it was no wonder he felt that way. You wished he didn’t have to. You believed someone as wonderful as him deserved so much better. If only he had at least one person close to him who would tell him how much better he was than most guys out there, how anyone should be lucky to call him a friend... or maybe more than just a friend. 

In that moment, you found yourself thinking what it would be like if you were that person. You imagined it would feel the same way it always did when you were around Kenny, only better. In all honesty, you couldn’t find a single reason not to try. What harm was there in trying? Oh, that’s right...something could go badly wrong, and then whatever friendship you had with him would be in shambles.

That’s what the pessimistic side of you thought about it. But the other side, the more hopeful and affectionate side, had other ideas. 

Even though you and Kenny were brought into the witness protection program by very different circumstances, you were still in it together. You didn’t have to hide your true identities or your past, at least not from each other. That had to count for something, right? 

While you were taking a second to collect your thoughts, Kenny was facing some inner turmoil of his own. With the newfound closeness of the two of you, his cheeks were positively crimson, his pulse quickening, heart thumping against his rib cage. Any doubts he’d had about whether or not he wanted to ask you out had vanished - he absolutely wanted to do that. But how? When? Would now be a good time? He wasn’t sure. Yet, he was very aware of the fact that if he were to lean in just a little bit closer, he could just kiss you right then and there... 

Kenny briefly remembered David’s “count to three” method, but for some reason it didn’t feel right to use. Not with you, not like that. All he wanted was to just go with the feeling, and that feeling was beckoning him to your lips. 

Oh, screw it. If you were to push him away, so be it. He would probably die a little inside and never attempt to do anything like that ever again, but at least he would know your immediate answer. 

“Kenny...?” 

Your soft questioning voice reached his ears as his gaze trailed over your delicate face, taking in every feature, and with a soft but resolute breath, he leaned in. 

Your eyes went wide when Kenny’s lips landed on yours. You froze for a second, not knowing what to do. Luckily, your instantly skipping heart gave you the hint you needed to flutter your eyes closed and melt into it. 

He kissed you so gently, so carefully, but not like he was afraid of scaring you away. More like he wanted you feel completely safe and give you every chance to stop it the second you wanted to. 

You didn’t. 

Instead, you wrapped an arm around his neck, your fingertips brushing the ends of his short sandy hair, your lips moving seamlessly and warmly against his own.

Kenny couldn’t believe you were actually kissing him back, but damn, he was thrilled that you were. He felt the affection in him surge as the softness of your lips put his mind in a haze. His hand timidly slid down to your waist, bringing you closer to him, and you willingly went, deepening the kiss as you did. 

After a few blissful moments you finally broke away from his lips, your noses nearly brushing each other as you looked up at him through glimmering eyes. “I was almost convinced I would have to do that myself...” 

Kenny breathed a soft chuckle, not taking his gaze off of yours. “To be honest, so was I...” 

You grinned at his burning cheeks, releasing a light chuckle of your own before reconnecting your lips for another kiss, swallowing the muted grunt that rumbled from Kenny’s throat. 

Things were going to get better now. For both of you, you were sure of it. Kenny was finally going to have someone who would show him what it’s like to be truly wanted and appreciated, and you were going to have someone who wouldn’t dream of hurting you and who you knew would always do his best to understand you, give you everything he could give. 

Maybe this whole witness protection program thing wouldn’t be such a tedious affair, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks again for helping me @gladerscake​ , you’re the sweetest ❤

[parvulous-writings]

Slightly Unexpected // McCree x reader

Request:  Can I make a request were McCree meets a new member of the team who happens to be a field medic with a big St. Bernard named Bosco. Everyone didn’t know that Bosco could speak except for Winston and soldier 76. And I mean he has the same intelligence as a human type. Like McCree finds out that his S/Os dog can speak during a mission when she hast to save him and drag him to a safe spot to be patched up.  i’ve been obsessing over the creek for the past week and a half and this seems like a very funny idea that’s been playing in my mind for the past few days lol

Requested by: @wolvesbrigade

Summary: The request

Warnings: Violence, mention of injuries and blood

Words: 1.2K

Notes:Did I make Bosco sassy? Maybe. My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

Initially, the assignment for the small team you supported was going incredibly well. Almost too well. There were four of you in all- a very small team indeed, but you didn’t need to go for overkill for this. It was merely defense, and of a small area to boot. It should’ve been fairly simple.  Key words; Should have. As the battle wore on and on, you got a sinking feeling in your gut that you had severely underestimated the adversaries you were facing. How could you tell this? Well, in part because of how much you’re having to heal your teammates, but also because of how the more experienced in the team were starting to show signs of struggle. Jack Morrison- Soldier 76 to the masses- was one of the ones starting to struggle, having to slowly fall back to be able to deal with the enemy personnel safely. 

The more tank-like colleague of yours had also started to draw close to the rest of the group, raising his shield to defend both the old soldier and yourself, as one last member on your team strayed out into the field, all by himself. This rugged vigilante was the gunslinger Jesse McCree- known by most to be an outlaw, and known to you specifically to be a man who makes almost nothing but reckless decisions. You were doing your best to help the two closest to you, with the aid of your loyal companion Bosco. The St Bernard was the one who held the majority of your healing capsules- modeled partially after Ana’s which served largely the same purpose. He’d ferry them back and forth between the two allies defending the point, whilst you helped Morrison dispatch your foes with your small firearm.

You had just about managed to get your feet stuck in the ground where you were supposed to be defending, when you heard a raspy voice through your earpiece: “I need.. I need some help over here!”  It was Jesse, sounding out of breath, and in a reasonable amount of pain. You give a gentle sigh- it came as no surprise to your that it was McCree that was the first to essentially get downed. You looked to your companion, giving a low whistle to get his attention away from Reinhardt. “Bosco! Let’s get moving!” And with that, the pair of you dove into fire, taking out the lackeys that stood between you and the teammate who needed your assistance. For those you didn’t take down yourself, Bosco tackled and tore at them as they tried to take aim towards you- trying to take you out and weaken your team. 

It took you a few minutes to find Jesse, who had managed to drag himself into a small corner, where he was able to stake out and defend himself with his peacekeeper. He had a rather nasty looking wound on his leg- a large, bloody patch around a bullet hole in his trouser leg. Bosco was the first of you two to approach him, looking him over for any other sign of any other, more life threatening injuries. The hound glanced over to you, his collar- designed especially for Bosco by Winston himself, based on similar technology used for Hammond the hamster- allowed him to inform you of what was McCree’s injury as you caught up and approached them.  “Thankfully I think the bullet has missed the femoral artery.” You weren’t caught off-guard by the friendly yet oddly monotonous voice of your dog, but McCree certainly was. His jaw was almost in his lap- he had never actually been out in the field with you and Bosco, and Morrison had clearly failed to warn him of the collar and unique intelligence of your companion. 

“The- the- he can-” McCree stuttered, and had Bosco been able to, he would have rolled his eyes. “Talk, yes. Thank you for the observation, Agent McCree, I hadn’t yet noticed.” Bosco replied sarcastically. Whilst they were conversing, you pulled two bandages from the pack around your waist- one to tie at least a fairly secure tourniquet, the other to dress his wound. Bosco took a small capsule from the bag draped over his back, breaking it carefully in his jaw over the wound and letting the golden liquid drip over the bloody hole in Jesse’s thigh. McCree winced, as the wound started to heal- but it would take a few minutes to heal properly, so you still fastened a makeshift tourniquet after dressing his wound. Bosco then nuzzled himself under Jesse’s arm, trying to pull him to his feet. You started to help, taking both of the cowboy’s hands in your own. 

“You never told me the old dog could talk!” Jesse exclaimed through heavy breaths as you started to help him back towards the rest of your team.  “Not that old,” Bosco pointed out, along with a computer generated sigh.  “Ah... Sorry, Bosco.” The gunslinger replied, awkwardly.  “Didn’t really have the need to mention it... Sorry, Jesse.” You chuckled as the two beings you held dearest fully interacted for the first time. You actually thought Jesse was taking it fairly well- you had expected a much more... Dramatic display.  “Well, uh, thank you, both of you, for comin’ to fetch me...” Jesse chuckled as you finally rejoined the other half of your team. You sat the Southerner down near a piece of debris- where he could still shoot the odd enemy, but also rest his leg until a dropship arrived for you all. Bosco went and sat beside him, ready to move him should the barrier finally break and the group of you be overrun by those fighting against you. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long before you heard the familiar whir of an  engine as the dropship started to approach from overhead. You had defended your point for long enough, now Overwatch’s own metallic forces were able to fight back instead of their valuable living soldiers. Bosco now started to help the injured gunslinger to his feet, and you soon joined to assist him onto the dropship. The man gave you a thankful look- a rarity from someone like Jesse.  “You know... I’d like to take some tips from ya about satyin’ alive during combat... You seem to do it pretty darn well, so you seem like one of the best people to ask. Maybe we could discuss it over dinner?” He suggested, a smirk-like grin spreading over his lips.  “Are you asking me out, McCree?” You ask him with a chuckle. He shrugs and nods slightly.  “I might be... Is there any harm in that?” He asked you, a hint of sheepishness in his tone.  “Only if you try anything funny.” Bosco jumped in, which caused both you and McCree to laugh.

“Don’t worry, I won’t try anything... Jus’ want to be a gentleman...” He looked to you, “If you’ll let me, o’ course...” He chuckled, and you smiled softly, beginning to nod at his words.  “Alright... But only if neither of us are cooking.” You gestured between you and him, laughing gently as he nodded in agreement.  “I was gonna suggest the same thing, darlin’.” He told you, “So, you got a date in mind?”  “Saturday? Maybe... Half eight?” You suggested, and he nods eagerly.  “Sounds brilliant, sugar.” 

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

McCree taglist: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​

[sylvies-chen]

You Make Me Feel So Young

Summary: Tim shows up at Lucy's apartment after struggling with some guilt, and finally gets that dance she'd saved for him.

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6K

A/N: For day 1 of the Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 organized by @therookiebook!! I'm so excited to participate, I hope you guys like this oneshot <3

AO3 link

++++++++

He feels guilty.

Lucy knows he does, even before he tells her. After everything at Angela’s wedding went down, after she and Jackson had been taken and nearly died, after the dust had settled from that entire stressful day, Lucy can feel the guilt oozing out of him.

Only Tim Bradford shows up at her door to talk about it, and it’s about the last thing she expects to happen.

Like, ever.

“Hey,” he blurts out as soon as she opens the door.

“Hi.” Lucy doesn’t know what to say but she knows the hand that’s holding onto the edge of her door feels numb all of a sudden and her breath gets caught in her throat.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks, trying to seem nonchalant. Lucy sees right through it, knows that him coming here alone, out of the blue, must mean something’s wrong. But she doesn’t say anything because she knows Tim takes a while sometimes to be able to open up. So instead, she nods.

“Yeah, of course.” Jackson’s out, so she lets Tim in without hesitation. Not that it’d matter if he were here, really, but she sees that broken, guilt-ridden look in Tim’s eyes and knows it’s best that they’re alone.

He plays it cool at first— out of self-preservation, she thinks— and looks around the apartment as she lets him in.

“This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I saw it,” he starts out.

“Yeah, well Cujo’s not around to tear up pillows anymore so I’d say it’s a big improvement,” she jokes meekly.

His hands are shoved in his pockets stiffly as he walks around her living room, glancing over to Jackson’s bedroom.

“Jackson’s not here?”

“No, he went to check up on Angela. I’m surprised you aren’t there too,” she adds.

“Why’s that?”

“Because it’s where you’ve been for the past week,” Lucy explains simply, glancing at him expectantly and waiting for him to talk. Not this kind of talk, not small talk or dancing around what he really needs to get off his chest, but for him to actually, really talk.

All does is stand by her couch, less than ten feet away from her, and avoid her gaze. She swears she can see his fists tensing up in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”

“I wasn’t.” She was . “I just know how worried you were about her when she was taken. I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave her side.”

“Just making up for what I didn’t do the first time, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath.

Lucy sighs, cutting their small talk short and getting to the point. “Why are you really here, Tim?”

Her bluntness surprises him, she thinks, because he blinks at her. “What?”

“Why are you here?” She repeats. “You’ve never shown up at my place randomly while off shift. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d remembered I live here. I know this past week has been intense but clearly you need something or else you wouldn’t have come here. So would you just tell me whatever it is you want to say so that I can help you?”

He exhales quietly, his chest shaking as it falls. “It’s my fault. Angela and Jackson nearly died, she nearly lost her baby, they were put in danger at her own damn wedding, and it’s… it’s my fault.”

“No, no,” she replies sympathetically, shaking her head. “It’s not. What happened to them happened because of La Fiera, not you.”

“I was her man of honour,” he explains with a dry and slightly sarcastic chuckle. “Where’s the honour in failing to protect the bride?”

“If you really felt that, you wouldn’t have come here. You knew,” she tells him, her voice determined and fierce. “You knew I wouldn’t let you sit here and feel sorry for yourself. If you wanted to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you would have gone to a bar, alone. But you came here, which means somewhere deep down you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

For one of the only times since Lucy’s known him, Tim Bradford is speechless. He looks for words but finds none, huffs, and sits down on her couch, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Her heart sinks at the sight of it. This guilt of his isn’t going away with anything she says, she knows that now. Healing takes time, so all she can really do is just be there for him.

She sits down next to him on the couch, leaving only an inch of space. “You don’t have to carry the weight of everything, you know,” she continues gently. “You take on so much, you don’t always have to feel so responsible for every bad thing that happens. That’s no way to live.”

“I’m a cop,” he shrugs painfully. “I became a cop because I wanted to keep helping people, protecting them. So sure, it might make me a more serious person, but I do it because it’s supposed to be what I do best.”

“I get that. But no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, even with all of your Tim tests,” she teases meekly. “That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You fought hard to get both of them back and you did. You did that. Angela’s home now, she and the baby are safe and alright. That’s what matters.”

He looks at her, stunned but greatly appreciative. “Thanks,” he offers, slightly begrudgingly, after a moment. “I just... thanks .”

“I think I have something of yours,” she tells him gently, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Because if she can’t assuage his guilt then at the very least, she can make him feel better; feel happy again.

Tim’s brows scrunch up, sending a confused look her way. Lucy wordlessly moves to pull out her phone, connecting it to the small wireless speaker on the coffee table. The buttons crisply click as she turns up the volume, pressing play on the first ballad she finds in her list of varied songs. (But her taste in music isn’t actually as diverse as she’d like and is really just filled with K-pop tracks).

The music streams through the speaker and throughout the apartment, audible but still quiet so as not to disturb the other tenants. Tim stays seated as Lucy stands up, still confused but shifting to the edge of his seat as if being drawn to her by an unnamed force.

Lucy finally extends her open palm, giving him a shy but cheeky grin. “Your dance, Officer Bradford?”

Realization hits and Tim’s shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.”

“Come on,” she pleads. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. Or, at the very least, it’ll give you something to tease me about at work.”

Tim gives a hearty chuckle, smiling widely as he accepts her hand. It makes Lucy smile too. Why shouldn’t it? He’s always so surly and serious, making him laugh would make anyone proud and giddy. Right?

“Alright. After you, Officer Chen,” he replies as she pulls him off the couch and onto the rug in her living room. His hand is warm. They’re calloused, and bigger than hers to the point where her fingers get swallowed up in his as he gives her hand a squeeze. But god, they’re so warm and safe . Her mind can’t stop coming back to that observation, no matter how much she knows she shouldn’t.

Tim’s other hand finds her waist, his grip gentle. Her hand flies to his chest, pulling him in until her chin is inches away from resting on his shoulder.

Up until now, space hasn’t really been an issue for them. The only time there’d been this much physical contact between them was last year when Caleb had buried her alive. Even then, the situation had allowed for a special exception. She’d needed all the physical and emotional support she could get at that moment, and Tim had provided it for her.

Now though, there's no exception, no special circumstance, no excuse. They’re dancing while wrapped up in each other solely because they want to be, and that change is enough to terrify Lucy. She doesn’t move though, only keeps swaying to the music and letting out small, shaky breaths.

What can she say? She never was one to back down from something that scared her.

“You’re a good dancer,” Lucy points out quietly.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, his breath catching onto her neck and sending a delightful shiver down her spine.

“Is it safe to say you’re enjoying yourself? You feel more relaxed, I daresay you’re having fun,” she tries teasing.

“I’m just surprised,” he counters. “I was prepared for my toes to endure some serious stomping.”

“Oh please, like my tiny toes could ever harm you.” Her nose scrunches playfully as she feigns a threatening look, which makes Tim smile again. What is it with that smile of his killing her softly?

“I don’t know, you’re a lot tougher than you look.”

“Was that a compliment?” She asks teasingly.

“Don’t tell Nova, she’ll get jealous,” he jokes back, continuing to sway to the music.

“Yeah but I bet she’d love this,” Lucy remarks. In her head, she adds that the line between herself and Nova is getting blurred but it goes unspoken and, eventually, ignored.

“Nova’s not the only one,” he risks replying. “You’re right. This is… nice .”

Tim leans back a little to meet her eye, the swaying decelerating until they’re standing in her living room. Alone. With an intense and inviting gaze piercing into her eyes.

“It is,” Lucy agrees. Her voice is barely audible and before she can think twice, she blurts out probably the worst thing she could ever think of: the thing she means with every fiber of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

She really does mean it. She wants to stay there forever, where everything feels good and safe and right . Only she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, per se. To her surprise though, he doesn’t react poorly to it. Instead, he flashes the smallest smile and nods in agreement, swallowing hard. "Me too."

He looks so young like that, something juvenile and exciting radiating off of him like a breath of fresh air. For a second, she almost thinks he’s the same age as her.

And oh fuck , something just clicks after that.

His lips part only slightly, his eyes glimmering with something intense and hopeful. Her skin is on fire, her heart is racing, and every neuron in her brain is telling her to look away but she can’t. She can’t escape his eyes. Lucy doesn’t know what this thing between them is, only that one minute, they’re dancing and the next, they’re… doing something else. The swaying stops and everything comes to a glaring halt as the song starts to come to a gradual end. They’re left with nothing to do but stand there and look at each other. It’s almost like he’s listened to her and that somehow, he’s made them become completely frozen in time so that maybe, just maybe, they really could stay here forever.

Admittedly, terrifyingly, Lucy would have no complaints about that.

They’re holding each other too— god , she almost forgot about his hands on her wait, on her back. They’re strong and massive and yet so gentle. And before she knows it, they’re pulling her in closer and closer.

His face is inches apart from her, their lips so close. She shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, about any of the things she’s feeling right now, but she can feel his breath and it makes it impossible to think of anything else. Her chest is almost pressed against his and she wonders if Tim can feel the shaky rise and fall of her chest against his.

They get closer again, and closer, and closer…

Then, the door clicks and swings open, sending her and Tim jumping apart.

The moment ends before it ever has a chance to start.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jackson calls out as he walks in, checking his phone. “So fire up the next episode of Love Island and put in the popcorn because I am ready to g—”

Jackson stops mid-sentence once he looks up from his phone and finds Lucy, standing next to Tim as they both look away from each other with flushed cheeks and awkward coughs from their throats. The music on her phone has stopped now, thankfully, but the light from the speaker still flashes to indicate it’s on and Jackson soaks in the whole scene. He meets it with confusion though, his brows furrowing.

“Uhh… What’s going on here?”

“I was just about to leave,” Tim announces, looking down at the floor as he makes a beeline for his coat.

“Right, yeah,” Lucy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess?”

“Yeah, of course. Uh, bye,” he replies awkwardly, his eyes meeting Lucy’s one last time with something that she daresay looks like disappointment— like yearning. Jackson’s still there though, and so the moment is short-lived. Tim’s hands fly back into his pockets, just as stiff as they were when he first came over, and he leaves. The door shuts behind him abruptly.

Lucy stares at the door where Tim used to be, her shoulders sagging in a disappointment of her own, but she turns to see Jackson staring at her and knows she has no way to explain… well, to explain whatever the hell just happened.

“You want to tell me why Tim was here?”

“He felt guilty about what happened with you and Angela,” she explains, a little defensively. “I was just talking it out with him.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jackson nods with an unconvinced laugh, “that’s why you two jumped apart like frogs as soon as I came in.”

“We did not jump apart ,” she protests.

“Ok, if you say so,” he concedes, his hands up in surrender. “Besides, whatever you two were doing here, I just—… don’t want to know.” He lets out a small chuckle after that, shaking his head as he moves to grab a pack of unpopped popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.

“It was nothing,” she mumbles quietly. “Nothing happened.”

It’s the first real lie she’s told that night. Jackson drops it after that though, and she sighs to herself as she sits back down on the couch.

She closes her eyes as the microwave buzzes and Jackson starts to ramble about his visit with Angela, slowly transporting herself back to that dance with Tim.

Maybe she’s wrong for this, maybe she’s completely insane and unprofessional. But as she plays it over in her head, her own words ring through her head and she realizes that maybe she really did want to stay like that with Tim forever.

Oh, screw it . She knows she did. It’s not a fact she can necessarily scream out to the world, but she did.

To Lucy, there are much worse things to want to be.

[divinerulerluvr]

Suspicious pt. 2

An AU where Colin Zabel is the bad guy.

No Warnings

Pairing - Colin Zabel x reader

Words - 1.3k

A/N - Per request, i wrote a part 2. Like, high request. I didn't think part 1 was good but i got a lot of people who wanted a second part so i guess here it is

Read part 1 here

- - -

It had been two weeks and, once again, there was a murder.

You were afraid that somehow, Colin would make you his scapegoat. Maybe he was done with being nice and decided to plant fake evidence in your car or something to get you arrested for the murders.

Everything had you paranoid. Every noise, every person. You were constantly on edge and it was slowly killing you.

And with Colin being a detective, he had access to damn near anything. With the internet, everything was available. Part of you was very wary about the man. You couldn’t trust him at all. He was a murderer and a good one, at that.

You had gotten a text one night from an unknown number telling you to meet him at the police station. You knew who it was. Who else would it be?

Afraid to disobey, you head to the station.

The front door was unlocked and you walk in, finding the only light that remained on in Colin’s office. Nervously, you walk into his office. He sits behind his desk, his eyes focused on the phone in his hands.

“Y/n,” he says, not even bothering to look up from his phone. “I need your help,”

“With what?” you ask, standing in the doorway of his office, afraid to walk in further. He looks up at you, turning his phone off and setting it on the desk. “I need a scapegoat and you’re gonna give me one,” he says simply.

His words make your heart sink further. He wanted you to give him an innocent person to blame his killing on?

He stares at you, your silence irritating him. “I could just make you my scapegoat if you don’t talk. It’s up to you,” he shrugs, standing from his seat and walking around the desk. You fight the urge to step back in response, keeping your feet planted.

“Why do you want a scapegoat now?”

“To put the town at ease. Once I get a scapegoat, I’m leaving. This place is... Sad,” he says, his eyes scanning the room around him.

“I can’t do that,” you say, your eyes following his as he steps closer and closer to you. “Listen to me, for fucks sake,” he warns lowly, making you swallow thickly. “It’s either you go to jail for four murders, or some person you despise goes to jail. Pick your poison, sweetheart,”

“It’s selfish,”

“Aren’t we all selfish?” he replies simply, now just inches from you. “And plus, you wouldn’t think it was selfish when you rot in prison. Don’t you have someone you hate? Someone you’d love to see rot?”

You just shake your head. Colin scoffs, not buying it for a second. “Nobody’s perfect,” he says, his voice lowered just above a whisper. “Especially… you,”

“What?” you ask, confused at his insinuation. He smiles, walking back over to his desk. “You have a record,” he states. You just shake your head, internally panicking. “No, I don’t,” you deny, trying to seem calm.

“You did, at least. You got it expunged. Isn’t that right?” he says, glancing up at you as he leans against his desk. “Looks like you were… driving drunk while underage. That’s like, two crimes all in one,” he sucks in sharply through his teeth shaking his head in a condescending manner. “That’s not good,”

You had nothing to say, so you just competed in his stare-off. His hands tucked deep into his pockets, he sighs heavily. “I’m gonna need a name, Y/n,” he orders, his words soft yet demanding. Your life depends on this.

Staying silent, you ran through the list of people who did you wrong throughout the past years. There was nobody who you’d want to send to jail. Well, except one guy.

“Mark Youens,” you say.

Colin smiles. “Good choice, doll. That one girl’s husband. He’s the perfect culprit,” Colin praises coldly, his words sincere but the context of them making you sick. “You mean Daisy,” you interrupt. Colin looks up at you, his eyebrow arched in question.

“‘That One Girl’ has a name,” you clarify. He just nods boredly, walking around the desk and writing the name you gave him down.

“You just gonna stare at me?” he asks, noticing how your gaze remained on him. You snap out of your daze, your eyes moving to the desk he stood behind. “Come here,” he says, his instruction making you scared.

Were you going to be his last kill?

You walk up to his desk, the wood separating the two of you and creating a safe distance. Colin leans on the desk, extending his hand. You flinch at the movement, afraid he was going to do something more than just graze his fingers down your cheek.

Colin chuckles, his eyes locked on yours. “You know, if I wasn’t blackmailing you, I would ask you on a date,” he comments. You display no reaction, his hand still petting your cheek affectionately.

“I wouldn’t say yes,” you bite back. He smiles, dropping his hand from your cheek. “I don’t believe you,” he shrugs.

“Cocky much?”

He shrugs, walking away from the desk and grabbing his coat from the chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow at eight a.m sharp. Got it?” he says.

“Fine,” you agree monotonously.

-

At eight a.m sharp the next morning, you meet Colin at the address he had sent you. You ended up at a local park filled with people. You saw Mare and a few other police on the small stage, a microphone and most importantly, Colin.

A loud sound echoes through the speaker as Mare taps the microphone in front of her. “We are pleased to announce the killer has been caught and is in jail. Hopefully, this will serve as some justice for all the chaos recently and put you guys at ease,” Mare announces to the people who gather before her.

Colin had brought you to some sort of town meeting about the killer being caught. “A special thank you to Detective Colin Zabel for investigating and thank you to Y/n Y/l/n for giving us the tip to find the man responsible,”

You felt your heart freeze at Mare’s word. Colin, who stood beside Mare, smiles widely as she says your name. You knew he had gotten her to say it just for kicks.

The crowd claps and you just glare at Colin who winks at you. This was all a part of his plan and you had somehow fallen directly into his sticky trap.

Slowly, the crowd disperses and you got a moment alone with Colin. You hit his arm and he turns to face you, a shit-eating grin on his lips. “You fucked me over, Zabel,” you whisper angrily, making sure nobody was around.

“How exactly? I saved your ass from being the scapegoat--”

“I saved my own ass from being the scapegoat. You were the one blackmailing me,”

He chuckles, glancing around the area as he crosses his arms. “You’re smart, Y/n,” he says, the compliment throwing you off. “I kinda have to be because of assholes like you,” you retort snappily, exhaling heavily.

“I thought you said you’d be leaving,” you add on, calming yourself. He shrugs, running his tongue over his lips. “Eh. Mare offered me a more permanent job here. Maybe Easttown isn’t so bad,” he says, taking pleasure in your disappointed reaction.

“Don’t look too excited, now,” he jokes sarcastically but you don’t react. “I’ll see you around, doll face. Maybe now that all this murder shit is over, I can take you to dinner,”

“You’re fucking delusional, Colin,” you reply.

He shrugs, a charming smile pulling on his lips as somebody walks by the two of you. “Probably. See you around, Y/n,” he says, patting your arm before walking past you, leaving you like he always did.

And of course, he had the last word.

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 17 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello my loves, just a reminder that I am still on vacation so the queue is posting this! Will respond to ur taglist requests and messages ASAP love u all :) 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of death, violence, drug use

wordcount: 2k

You and Aaron each read Jack a book of his choosing before tucking him into bed and heading towards Aaron’s bedroom together. Bringing your pajamas into the bathroom, you change and brush your teeth with the door closed, which feels silly, given everything, but you can’t help it.  Aaron slips into the bathroom as you step out, and you sit on top of the covers, hands folded in your lap, anxiously awaiting his return. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” he asks, clocking your anxiety immediately. 

“Nothing, I just feel bad that I got us caught by Jack,” you confessed, looking down at the comforter. 

“I couldn’t be less upset about that,” he assures you, climbing into bed beside you and taking your hand in his. “I mean, he practically told us that he already knew, even if he was a little confused.” 

“That was the other thing-- sorry that marriage and all of that got brought up. I’m sure that was---”

“I’m not upset about that, either.” He interrupts you. “Did I do something to make you think I was upset?”

“No, no,” you assured him. “It’s just kind of early for that kind of stuff, I’m sure it was uncomfortable--”

“It wasn’t uncomfortable. Apparently I’ve done a bad job of expressing how strongly I care for you, and I’m sorry for that.” You go to interrupt, but he cuts you off. “I couldn’t be happier that Jack knows how much I love you. Sharing that with our people-- my son, and our team-- is not something you need to apologize for, or something I’m ashamed of. I’m thrilled to be able to love you openly. No more apologies, okay?” 

Your breath caught just a little, but you hold it together. “No more apologies,” you agreed. “Aaron, it’s such a privilege to be loved by you,” you whispered, needing him to know how much his words meant to you but scared to ruin the moment. Aaron just shook his head, leaning to press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he whispers into your hair, and you close your eyes, letting the peace of his touch overwhelm you. 

“There’s one more thing,” you said, after a moment. 

“And it’s not an apology?” Aaron checks. 

“No, it’s not an apology,” you assure him. “I wanted to thank you for sharing those pictures with Jack and me tonight. I’m sure it was emotional, but I was glad to see them. You love Haley so much. Thank you for sharing her memory with me.” 

“She was the reason I got up in the morning, from the day I met her until the day she died.” Aaron tells you, and you squeeze his hand.

“Everyone knew how much you loved her, Aaron. Even after the divorce, there wasn’t a single person at the bureau who knew a man who loved his wife that much.” You assured him.

“But it wasn’t enough. I failed her, and I could fail you too.”

“No, Aaron, no you didn’t. You promised to love her for as long as you lived, and you didn’t break that promise. You didn’t promise her you’d never change, and she never promised you that she’d never change. You both changed, but you never stopped loving each other.” You told him.

“How did you know? How did you know that I never stopped loving her? Didn’t that scare you out of loving me?’ Aaron whispered. 

“Aaron, the way you love her shows in everything you do. You never took a picture of her down, even after the divorce, when I’m sure they were painful to look at. You always let her know you were safe at night, and when she left you, you helped her move and made sure she had everything you needed.” 

“And that doesn’t scare you? That even when she left me, I still loved her?” 

“No, Aaron, it doesn’t scare me. That’s how I feel about you, so I understand.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Aaron says immediately-- how could you mean that? When Haley was so refined, so beautiful, so compassionate, and he was just a man, a man with baggage and trauma and a dark past?

“Of course I do, Aaron. I never told you this, and I might be selfish in telling you now-- but in the weeks after Haley died, I went to bed at night praying that time would move backwards and that I could take her place. I’d do anything to get her back to you, even if it meant that you and I never made it here.” 

“It’s an incredible privilege to be loved by you,” Aaron echoes your earlier statement, and you smile.

When you wake up the next morning, you realize that you’re never going to get a good night’s sleep without Aaron beside you again, and you love him and hate him for it in equal measure. Your anger is quickly forgotten when he rolls over and starts planting kisses across your face. 

“We have to get Jack to school,” you reminded him with a smile between kisses.

“We’ve got time,” he brushes you off. 

“You’ve got time, maybe. My hair is a mess from napping on your couch and I have to do my makeup,” you reminded him, planting one final kiss on his lips before rolling out of bed and heading towards the bathroom.

When you’ve gotten yourself ready for the day, you make your way out to the kitchen, were Jack is sitting in front of a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice. 

“Morning, little man,” you said, ruffling his hair and smoothing it back down as you sat in the seat next to him. Aaron crosses the kitchen with two plates, putting a piece of toast with peanut butter and banana slices in front of you, and one on his own placemat. 

“Thanks, honey,” You smile, taking a bite of your breakfast as he sits.

“Dad? Can we go to the soccer field tonight after work?” Jack asks as his father settles in.

“I can’t promise tonight, but we can definitely go this week, okay bud?” 

“Okay.” 

“Finish your breakfast, kiddo, or you’re gonna be late,” you told him, taking your plate to the sink and prepping travel mugs of coffee for you and Aaron, who shepherds Jack through the last few steps of getting out the door. You follow them down to the car and Aaron drives down the road to Jack’s school. You sit in the carpool line for a minute, listening to Jack point out his friends as they walk into the building, before Aaron pulls up to the curb and it’s Jack’s turn to get out. Aaron rolls down the window as Jack collects his things. 

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Hotchner,” a peppy brunette woman who you’re pretty sure is Jack’s teacher ducks down to make eye contact with Aaron through the window.

“Good morning, Ms. Meadows.”

‘Oh, and who’s this?” Ms. Meadows says, taking note of you for the first time. Aaron introduces the two of you, and you notice her looking you up and down, almost sizing you up. 

“Nice to meet you,” she says perfunctorily, turning her attention back to Aaron almost in an instant. “Did Jack tell you about the volunteer sign ups for the kids’ talent show?” 

“He did, I think his Aunt Jess--”

“Oh, that’s right, Jess did mention to me that she’d be here!” Ms. Meadows interrupts. “I guess I was just hoping to get some strong FBI dads in the building to help set up the stage equipment,” she pouts, and you briefly entertain the thought of leaning over the center console and wiping the pleading look across her face. 

“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” Aaron says, blissfully interrupted by Jack waiting to give him and you a kiss goodbye. The two of you kiss both of his cheeks, and he hops out of the backseat and takes off towards the main entrance. 

“She was pleasant,” you note sarcastically when Aaron pulls out of the parking lot.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, looking over at you briefly, his nose scrunched up in confusion. 

“She’s clearly into you, Aaron.” You said, knowing it was obvious and he was just being oblivious. 

“What? No she’s not,” Aaron shook his head. 

“Oh, Mr. Hotchner, please come save me from the Woodbridge Elementary School talent show. I need your big, strong muscles to move all this heavy equipment because I’m just a docile young lady,” you mimicked Jack’s teacher in an exaggerated tone. 

“Now, if she had said that, then maybe I would have thought she was into me,” Aaron laughs at your dramatics. 

“She gave me a nasty look. She doesn’t like that she has competition.” You argue. 

“She doesn’t have competition. I mean, there is no competition. There’s just you, and that’s how I like it,” he said, taking one hand off the steering wheel to grab yours and bring it to his lips. 

Garcia is waiting for you both in Aaron’s office when you arrive at work.

“Is everything okay?” You ask her immediately, feeling Aaron shift his body towards yours.

“I finished digging up everything I could on Josh, if you want to see it.” She tells you both, and you look at Aaron. Truth be told, you don’t really want to know, but being disgusted and informed is probably better than being uninformed and caught off guard. 

“Come on, we’ll go review it in your office.” Aaron said, stepping aside to let Garcia lead the way. Once she is a few paces ahead, he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe, and you just tell me if you need to take a break, okay?”

You nodded, and Aaron place a comforting hand on your back as the two of you made your way down to the batcave. 

“Okay, so, just going through the highlights,” Garcia starts, clicking at tabs and pulling them up on her assortment of monitors throughout the room.  “Starting a few weeks before you left, I noticed that Josh was calling and texting the same number a lot-- but only when you all were off fighting crime. Of course, I assumed that this absolute peach of a man had somehow conned not one but two women who had to be decidedly out of his league, but it turns out that wasn’t the case. He’s been doing coke, and the number leads to his dealer.” 

“Fuck, again?” You interrupted her.

“He was doing coke when the two of you were together?” Aaron asked, surprised. 

“Not for a while, or so I thought. The coke was what made him violent-- I told him it was the drugs or me, and when he told me that he’d picked me, I believed him.” You explained. “He must have been high when he showed up that night-- he was always an asshole but showing up like that was out of character.” 

“So, with you out of the picture, it seems like the coke usage has increased a lot. Like, from a weekly to a daily thing, a lot. He’s going out at night, racking massive credit card debt. He hasn’t purchased a firearm or anything that indicates that he might be planning something violent, but he’s definitely acting impulsive.” 

“Was he sober or high when he sent the flowers?” Aaron asks. 

“Sir, I don’t think he’s been sober since you took all of her stuff out of the apartment,” Garcia responds. 

“He’s only going to get more aggressive and out-of-touch with reality the longer this bender lasts,” you note, clinically, as if you were talking about a case halfway across the country and as if your future wasn’t hanging in the balance. 

“We’ll keep an eye on it, and we’ll be ready. Garcia, can you print out a full copy of this and get it on my desk?” 

“Are you sure? The full copy is really long, it’s got to be--” 

“I’m sure, Garcia. Thank you.”  

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