#anyway I'm here to deliver on angst!

[fannbeau]

"it should've just been me instead..."

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 4

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: ok, im such a bad author now huhu, i always broke my promises about updating the new chapter :((( should've just wrote in advance but i'm afraid i don't have that enough free time oqsjjanswjaj anyways, here's the anticipated chapter!! THANK YOU FOR Y'ALL PATIENCE <3 MWUHEHEHHEEHHE

previous / masterlist / next

the next day comes and you've got yourself some visitors. megumi, yuuji, nobara, maki, and inumaki was in your room and they were all seated around you as you talk.

panda and your two third years were not around at the moment because this is a non-sorcerer hospital and people would freak out to see a big ‘talking’ panda. during your two third years, they were out of town and were on a mission but they still text you to get well and even send you some fresh flowers.

“wait, i still can't believe that he's your husband.” nobara couldn't explain his shock at the revelation. out of all, she didn't think that her goofy teacher was someone's husband.

you chuckled at her reactions as you turned your gaze on megumi, who's still his mouth hanging. “megumi, i thought you're getting a hint?” you tease the boy. although it was true, you actually thought he already had an idea because you've known him for almost his entire life and even once lived with you as a kid.

“no…” was only his answer.

“so, gojo-sensei was the one you're talking about when you said that he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower you with love and he is making sure that you two would still communicate despite his busy schedule?” your eyes widened when yuuji literally just said what you had said from before, word-by-word!

“i—i supposed he is.” everyone in the room sweat dropped at your answer.

what do you mean you supposed?!

“y/n-sensei, is it okay if we ask your baby?” maki chooses the gentlest approach because she heard that post-pregnancy can make the mother quite crikey, sensitive, and is prone to depression. but to her relief, you respond to her warmly.

“oh, the baby is being treated since they're premature. i really can't wait to meet them once i get better. but right now, shoko was the only one who had seen my baby.” you smiled softly at the thought of your baby.

“gojo-sensei still hadn't seen the baby?” maki’s eyes went wide.

you nodded. “yeah, he said we should go together so i must heal quickly for that to happen.”

the door suddenly opened and it revealed your husband with food in his hand. you smiled at the packages not because you're hungry, but because you had finally persuaded satoru to go out and leave you even for just a few minutes.

how did you do it? well, you just give him an earful after what he did yesterday night and he's like;

“i don't know how you did it but you should've just gone to the convenience store or the hospital canteen just for an oatmeal and eggs. and look, i'm not upset over the fact that you just had the ‘very easy to get’ food delivered on this doorstep. what concerns me is you seem not to trust me very well to handle myself— well in fact i've been doing it since i was a kid and blah, blah, blah, blah…” it was your turn to yap but a little longer than he did. you even probably bought up some of his minor mistakes like not taking out the trash on random sunday night.

and he was like, “i'm sorry. i won’t do it again ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)”

“y'all done backstabbing me?” satoru teasingly smiled at you all.

“oh, we're just getting started. so why don't you take a seat and hear us out?” you patted the empty space of your bed beside you.

satoru playfully huffed and gave the foods to his students and let them distribute it themselves. sitting beside you, he gave you the separate plastic with food and helped you feed yourself. the two of you had your moment with you telling satoru to just let you be and stop feeding you like a kid, but satoru was like nuh uh—and it goes on and on.

meanwhile, the students watch you two with surprise in their eyes. they still couldn't digest the fact that you two had managed to hide your marriage for like five years or so. and out of all spouses out there, they couldn't believe their eyes that you married a guy that is a total opposite of you.

“i still cannot really believe that you're married and have a baddie wife.” nobara almost never tears her gaze towards you two.

“yeah, much more is that they look so in love!” yuuji agrees to what nobara said as his words made you two stop bickering instantly.

like a cold water being poured, you two were suddenly experiencing a reality check that this so-called in love was very far from the two of you actually is. coughing slightly to hide his awkwardness and nervousness, he just let himself chuckle. while you? you're an expert at this, you maintain a smiley expression and wordlessly (and also forcefully) agrees to what the boy said.

“oh my, do we?” putting a hand on your cheek, you smiled with your eyes closed. your act looks so legit but satoru has seen this multiple side—he knew this facade was all fake.

maki suddenly puts herself into attention by calling your name. “anyway y/n-sensei, i've noticed you two don't have a ring—” before she could even finish her sentence, you already beat her to it.

“that's because the two of us, mostly him, are constantly fighting curses and both involve using our hands when we use our techniques. it would be risky to wear it and we're scared that we might get it lost or damaged.” you explain meticulously.

you watch the students agree to your explanation, while satoru is looking at you with meaning. you stared back at him too, hoping that he would get your telepathic message.

“alright guys, your y/n-sensei needs to rest now. we'll just see you guys soon or you can all just drop by tomorrow after your training.” satoru called everyone's attention by clapping his hands then started to playfully shoo the students.

you watch them pack their things and wave you a happy goodbye, in which you return their enthusiasm as well. when they all left, you let out a sigh and started to gently lie your body on the bed. satoru, who was done cleaning just now, sit at the end of your bed and carefully massage your legs.

“did you have fun with them?” you just lazily hum at his question and proceed to rest your eyes.

“i…i'm surprised you managed to convince them about our marriage.” satoru continued quietly.

opening one of your eyes and looking at him, you said, “of course, i've been doing it to a lot of people for the past five years.”

that alone made him shut up.

satoru looked down to his hands, which were still busy massaging your legs. you've noticed that his eyes were casted down and his behavior was somewhat familiar to you, he's feeling something that is related to guilt and regret.

clicking your tongue, you're in no mood to deal with his behavior today. so to find a solution to this problem, you just put yourself to sleep and let all of this just go on without a single care.

it has been two days and you're getting better day by day. today was probably the bestest day so far because you're about to finally see your own baby!

“calm down, mama. do you want your stitches to open again?” shoko holds your knees to stop it from shaking anxiously as you were currently sitting just right outside the neonatal intensive care unit (nicu) where your baby was.

you understand that the doctors need to prepare the room first before you all come in, but you wished that they speed it up.

“but sho, i'm finally seeing my baby!” you squeal at your friend who just ruffles your hair and tells you to be patient—in which you definitely can't.

meanwhile, satoru, who was standing beside you while you and shoko were sitting together, has been eyeing you since this whole waiting. he understands that you're excited about seeing the baby because he is too, he is excited. but he couldn't help but to feel a sensation that you would rather share your excitement with others than him.

he knows that he sounds ridiculous and undeserving to say that in the first place after what he did to put you through, but he still couldn't help it and he wouldn't even dare to say it to you.

the door of the nicu just opened and it revealed the doctor who was wearing protective gear to keep bacterias and viruses from entering the room and harm the baby. before he lets you all in, he first instructs you all to change the same gear as him and then proceeds to give you all some explanation in which you actively listen and take notes.

and after that, he finally lets you go inside.

the moment your eyes traveled on a crib, you saw your child laying down there with some breathing apparatus that is connected to their little body. you could feel your eyes swell with hot tears as you inch yourself towards the bundle of joy who's their crib was also protected with glass and only small holes on both sides were there.

satoru and shoko watched you with pure warmth at your sight—it was a nice scene of mother's love. finally, a tear escapes your eyes the moment you get a whole view of your child.

“isn't he pretty?” shoko said beside you, someone who you didn't notice had come near you.

you gasp, “he? m-my baby is a boy?” your cries go even harder, but it was just pure happiness. you couldn't bring yourself to tear your gaze away from your child even though he looks fragile for being premature but you love him dearly.

“can i touch him?” you look at the doctor who assisted you earlier without caring that you might look like a crying mess. you're far more thrilled to be with your child than to be pretty at this moment.

the doctor smiled at you and he agreed. he pointed out the small hole on the side, telling you to stick your hands out to feel your baby. you do what he said with your shaky hands, and when your fingertips touch his warm skin—you feel like you could die from the burst of euphoria.

“my b-baby, my baby is n-now here!” you really can't hold your emotions back as you keep on passing your fingers through your baby's arm until it reaches his closed hands where you slightly and gently open it for him to grab index finger. and when he does, your smile becomes even wider.

“hi baby~ this is me, your mommy. it's so nice to finally see you.” you whispered softly, hoping that despite the glass, he could hear your words.

this is the bestest day of your life. your baby was here and that's all you need.

the scene continues to unfold with you still getting emotional and shoko was just watching you with a smile on her face. while satoru, the father of the child, the husband of the mother, was a little distant but he could still see the baby. he was all quiet and couldn't bring himself to utter a word but he's not speechless.

his eyes behind those glasses were trailed on the child, but most of his gazes were on you. satoru watches you become all smiley—this is probably the happiest smile he had seen on your lips for the past years of your marriage.

and he would absolutely never forgive himself if he breaks it—but he already did.

shoko notices his odd behavior and promptly leaves your side for a while (but you're busy having a baby talk with your baby to notice her leaving) to go talk to him.

“what? you're just gonna stand there and watch y/n?” yup. still the same as before, hostile towards the man. satoru let out a sigh and didn't give her attention. instead, he walked towards y/n and just focused on his family.

“you’re so tiny!” you continue to cooed at your son who keeps on moving slightly which is a good sign that your son is responsive and fighting. you also noticed that satoru was now right beside you and is looking at your son too with adoration tinted in his eyes.

“i don't think i could let myself be away from him anymore.” you said. your cheeks were now hurting from constant smiling but you don't mind.

satoru only looks at you briefly because his attention was now on his son, fully. “hello, it was nice finally meeting you.” his eyes trailed on his own flesh and blood with the most care of all.

on the other hand, you're not dumb to not notice that satoru was acting hesitant towards this scene and you knew what his reason was. you think that satoru thinks that he was undeserving to be here, and you're correct about his assumption.

but as a woman who grew up with an experience of being inside a shattered family, you absolutely would not want that to happen to your own child. and as much as you would also like to satoru be away at least for now because you're still that sensitive about what he had said during those conversations in the clinic and hallway, you respect his role as a father.

you'd give him a chance to prove his worth as a father to your child, but he's far worse to have a chance to prove his worth as a husband to you. if he messes this up real bad and without any proper explanation, this will be all over—satoru would no longer have you and your child as his own family.

“stick your hand on his hole, that way you could feel him.” you guided his hand towards the hole that you had said before and watched his hands turn shakey as he reached for the baby.

once satoru had finally experienced a skin-to-skin touch with his baby, he wanted to cry so badly but he didn't allow himself to, at least not yet. he felt like this was one of the best moments in his existence.

satoru would like to punch himself for questioning the baby for his plans as he seemingly thinks it would affect him. but just when he look and touch his baby, all of his recollection about the mixed emotions he felt when the baby is on the board has suddenly vanished and it was replaced with gratefulness and adoration for both of you.

it was like a full 360 degrees turn was done after the early birth of his first born. plus, he had seen you be ever so happy that you are with him. and deep inside him, satoru deniably hopes that this kid, this child, can at least help him save this marriage that was destined to fail and doomed.

because he now finally realizes that you're slowly wrapping him around your tiny fingers.

your tears had made him be a better person, your recent experience had made him behave. it almost cost you and your baby's wife just for him to realize the importance of your five years of marriage, and he's planning to tell you that soon.

“have you finally decided what name we should give him?” shoko asked you and she didn't fail to see your eyes sparkle at the mention of name.

ah yes, baby names.

that was something that a mother and father should decide together because it comes very crucial because the name that your baby will get is a symbol of you two's relationship. but the thing is, you and your husband hadn't talked about a single thing or just anything related to this matter.

that's probably why you're still embarrassed whenever you think about nanami accidentally seeing you open a website into one of the school's computers about unique baby names with its meaning.

you're four months pregnant at that time and you're spending your free time in a teacher's lounge. you're very invested in your mini research to the point that you didn't notice an old friend peeking at your screen. you actually only notice his presence when you're about to stretch but accidentally bump his torso, and to your surprise, he was there.

and then the rest becomes a story and history. nanami helped you pick baby names for both genders or even unisex until you came out with…

“kazuki. let's name him that.” a soft smile was decorated on your lips as you watched satoru, who's looking at you, plays with the hands of your son.

“kazuki…that's a nice name, y/n.” satoru said happily. however, you can see his disappointment behind those words and you know why. you didn't even invite him to search for your baby's name because why would you?

“does it have any special meaning?” shoko asked you.

you nodded and said, “of course, kazuki means hope of peace—and i really need that.”

taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @aish777 @tttttttf @slyhersophia @rirk-ke @labelt-san @shinruo @testrella @sad-darksoul @kurookinnie @mountvesuvu @chwesuh-imnida @cole-silas @elernity @maddie-jayne @yozora7154 @kawaiivillainess98 @forourpoets @aishies-stuff @numblytemporary @souyasplushie @catarinemirandax @aerithsthingss @h1gh4ru @ssetsuka @jskodn @khoiyyu @the2ndl @vebbiewuzhere @kouyoumarryme @dreamyescapesfromreality @local-mr-frog @haesify @blkmystery @bleppt @leavem3al0n3 @arminloverlol @megumisthirdog @shirabane @sheismaryy @tragicgirl444 @vampsins @miizuzu @kurobo @anxious-chick @p1nkliquor @mshitachin @chxrv @lolsasuke @username23345 @netyxms @lvstru @roscpctals99 @buttermilktea11 @berenevenstarzetaestelar @jiupark @hotsauce247 @veryverysadauthor @skepticalleo @opentheyoor01 @slowlyshycomputer @babybarbs12 @thickemadame @yaninnaacu @foggypostshark

[part 5 will be just there right around the corner — ©luvvixu2024]

[kwanisms]

It’s the season of love, or lust. Here’s a collection of 14 separate tales to keep you company this Valentine’s season. demon/incubus!Idol × fem!Reader

» back || playlist || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT —  ❑ WARNINGS — adult language, female reader, shorter reader, reincarnated reader, chubby!Reader, smaller reader, jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of: marriage, travel, homesickness, food & alcohol consumption, history of drug use, depression & thoughts of suicide, feelings of isolation, past love, heartbreak, major character death, reincarnation, severe depression, loneliness, minor character death, food & alcohol consumption, occultism, witchcraft, demonic summoning & rituals, PTSD, graveyards, ghost hunting, communicating with spirits, hospital environments, long working hours, bodily trauma, blood, gore; see each part for full warnings! ❑ CONTENT — angst, fluff, smut; supernatural, fantasy, demons & angels, biblical, established relationships, office setting, boss!Reader, coworkers to lovers, ER doctor!Reader, demon!Idols; non idol au, demon au, farm au, hospital au; see each part for full content lists! ❑ NOTES — happy valentine's, my loves! Here is something no one asked for but I'm delivering anyway! I've got 14 stories here, 11 of which are sequels to existing aus I've created and three new ones! They're all of my existing demon aus! From Seventeen to Stray Kids to Day6, all of my demon characters are being revisited here! Taglist is open and will close at the end of January so sign up now! Thanks for the support thus far babes and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

 ➥ incubus!Kihyun × fem!Reader summary: After the events of her story, Y/N has had her curse broken and succubus powers removed, allowing her to live a normal life. She has managed to keep a low profile, getting a job in a diner, her entire world is turned upside down when one of the men she was tasked with seducing in her previous life shows up at the diner late one night with a bone to pick with her. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 1

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 ➥ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader × Seonghwa summary: After being banished to hell, Hongjoong manages to find a weak point and escapes back to the mortal realm. He only has a short time before the hounds of Hell are sent after him to bring him back and he makes the most of his time by tracking down his former servant only to find Seonghwa’s vampire curse has been broken and that he’s now happily married to the woman who destroyed everything Hongjoong built up. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 2

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 ➥ incubus!Jisung × fem!Reader summary: Now that all his friends are seeming to settle down with their respective partners, Han decides to venture out on his own and explore a new city. While there, he meets someone who flips his world upside down and turns it inside out. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 3

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 ➥ demon!Jeonghan × fem!Reader summary: Jeonghan lost his chance at love by being stubborn and cruel. Since then, he’d been drifting through the world, finding no meaning at continuing his meaningless charade. He refused to return to Hell but being on Earth was even more torture. He thought about just ending everything when the world came to a halt upon spotting a familiar face on the streets of Paris. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 4

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 ➥ incubus!Johnny × fem!Reader summary: Y/N has been living her best life, having climbed the social ladder at work and now heads her department, thanks to the promotion she landed. She can’t forget the reason for her success and one night while at the office working late, the demon she made a deal with comes back to check in. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 5

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 ➥ demon!Mingi × fem!Reader summary: Summers spent in the country used to have a sense of nostalgia but now, as you helped clear out your aunt’s old farm house, it was just hot and all you did was sweat. When you come across an old, tattered black book, things go from hot to hotter when you are transported to an alternate dimension where you meet a mysterious man who inhabits your aunt’s house on what he calls the ‘Other Side.’  read now »» coming Feb 6

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 ➥ incubus!Sungjin × fem!Reader summary: Since the incident at the museum, involving the old grimoire, Y/N has kept a low profile and quit her job at the museum, instead getting a job at a bookstore in a quiet part of town. It’s been three years and she still has the book, keeping it locked in a glass case in her house. The demon has not appeared since but she can’t shake the uneasy feeling she has as the fifth year anniversary of the Summoning approaches. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 7

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 ➥ incubus!Yeonjun × fem!Reader summary: After a visit to the old graveyard with her friends, Y/N has had this uneasy feeling of being followed or watched. Maybe she’s being paranoid, or maybe it's the result of playing around with a Ouija board but one thing is certain; she keeps seeing someone or something watching her from the window in her bedroom. read now »» coming Feb 8

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 ➥ incubus!Jongho × fem!Reader summary: As a result of passing his seduction test, Jongho has become a full-fledged incubus. He’s now among the ranks of those who have made names for themselves. He finds that being an incubus comes with a great amount of freedom and responsibility. Responsibility he shirks because he can’t seem to stay away from the one who helped him pass his test: Y/N.  read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 9

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 ➥ demon!Seungmin × fem!Reader summary: Your idea of fun was playing video games with your friends or playing beer pong at a frat party. It did not include summoning a demon in the basement of the creepy, old abandoned house at the end of Willow Avenue.  read now »» coming Feb 10

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 ➥ demon!Chan × fem!Reader summary: Ever since she summoned him, Chan hasn’t been able to get Y/N out of his mind. He returns to her after some time and insists that she accept the proposal he made to her the last time he was there. He wants to be bound exclusively to her. Y/N is hesitant but Chan tells her to think it over while he makes his trip to visit her worth both their time. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 11

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 ➥ incubus!Chanyeol × fem!Reader summary: Since their encounter and Chanyeol’s nature as an incubus exposed, he and Y/N have had a secret relationship which tends to bring out the worst jealousy in both of them. They often sneak around the hospital, meeting in secret places.  read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 12

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 ➥ incubus!Hyunjin × fem!Reader × witch!Felix summary: After his visit, Hyunjin has moved into the house next door to Y/N and Felix, making himself at home as their neighbor and tormenting Felix by plaguing Y/N’s dreams. Hyunjin seems determined to make Felix’s life a living hell and drive a wedge between the witch and his girlfriend. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 13

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 ➥ incubus!Joshua × fem!Reader summary: Ever since that fateful night where Joshua revealed himself as a demon, Joshua and Y/N have built a life for themselves, living together in her house and working at the antique shop together. When Joshua decides to take her out for a romantic Valentine’s dinner, his jealous side emerges when he thinks the waiter is flirting with Y/N so he takes her home to remind her who she belongs to. read part one | read part two »» coming Feb 14

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

[krirebr]

More Than This 8

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~9.5k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and en dashes, the slooowest burn, family drama - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Ohhhhhhhh boy. Getting this update in right under the six month wire. I'm so sorry this one took so long, you guys. I had to drag this chapter out of me. But uh, it's horrifically long, so that's something?

And, I know I keep saying that we're about to start a happier part of this story and then deliver a bucketful of angst, and yeah, whoops, I've done that again. I should just stop making promises, huh?

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who has spent the last almost six months talking this one through with me. And to @bigtreefest who was so great with the encouragement and gut checks and did a quick beta of this chapter! But, of course, all mistakes are my own.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too! As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The rest of the day was quiet. Calmer, more settled than you were used to. After having gotten everything out into the open, it was so much easier to acknowledge Ransom’s presence, to coexist with him. You hadn’t fully realized how much you’d been holding your breath until you could suddenly breathe freely. It was a wild feeling.

Once you were all cried out, Ransom turned on the TV, turning it to the classic movie channel. That was how you learned he loved old movies. “Grandad and I used to watch them together. When I was a kid,” he said quietly. He didn't volunteer any other information and you didn't ask. But you watched the old noir with him.

One movie turned into two and soon the whole afternoon was gone. It had been… comfortable, in a way you’d never expected to be with him. Neither of you had said much, but the silence hadn’t been stifling in the way it’d been even just the day before. For the first time since you’d gotten here, you felt something a lot like hope.

He made two arrangements while sitting with you on the couch. The first was for movers to come to collect his gym equipment the next day so that your new room would be empty when your things arrived in a couple of days. 

You were made aware of the second when you received a text from him. You looked up in confusion. You were sitting right next to each other. He chuckled lightly. “That’s the number to your new car service. Call it, let them know where you’re going, and a car should be here within half an hour.”

You stared at the number. Holy shit, you’d be able to go places. You felt silly for how emotional you suddenly felt, but it was like your entire world was expanding in real time. It felt like fresh oxygen in your lungs. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

He just nodded in response. “After you’ve used that for a while, we can talk about whether a private driver might be more appropriate. If that’s what you need.”

You looked at your phone again. This was proof in your hands that you could tell Ransom what you needed and he would do what he could to help you get it. That he wasn’t the enemy you’d assumed he was. You could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes and you took a deep breath to try to quell them without calling attention to your state.

Ransom, of course, noticed anyway. “Is that not ok?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head. “No, it’s perfect. Seriously, thank you. I’m sorry, I just–” You had no idea what to say to him, how to explain yourself. As good and necessary as the last several hours had been, he was still a stranger. And as much as he’d demonstrated a willingness to help you, that didn’t mean he wanted you getting your messy emotions all over him. “Sorry,” you said again, “I’m just emotional today. Hormones probably. I’m afraid you’re going to be dealing with this for the next nine months.” You grimaced in what you hoped was a playful manner as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

He remained serious, concerned. “I think I can handle it,” he said, his tone still so soft. But if you looked very carefully, you thought that you might be able to see a hint of panic in his eyes. You didn’t know if it was for the havoc that your pregnancy hormones might wreak or everything that would come after. You didn’t ask. You knew you wouldn’t be able to answer the question for yourself either. So you turned back to the movie.  

At some point, you both started to get hungry, so Ransom ordered takeout. As you ate, you asked a few questions about the sorts of movies he liked, grateful for a safe topic to fill the silence. You certainly wouldn’t call him verbose, but you learned that he had a soft spot for Billy Wilder movies. You wouldn’t really say the conversation flowed, either, but your questions didn’t seem unwelcome. It was nice. He was starting to feel like a real person.

When you were done, you cleaned up the leftovers together, packing them up and putting them away in the fridge. It was while you were doing that that the doorbell suddenly rang. You both looked up, confused. “If that’s fucking Linda, I swear…” Ransom grumbled.

“She never rings the doorbell when it’s just me here,” you griped. You continued putting things away, sticking your head in the fridge as Ransom went to get the door. Then everything happened so fast.

First, you heard Lola yipping excitedly. As you started to turn around to see what was going on with her, Ransom asked “What are you doing here?!” And then–

And then Ransom was on the ground, clutching his jaw, and Steve was looming over him, his hand still in a fist.

“What the shit?!” Ransom ground out.

Steve’s eyes flitted around wildly until they landed on you. He sighed in relief, clearly doing a quick check as he looked at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone so much gentler than his posture.

“Am I– What– What are you doing here? I don't–” You felt like you couldn’t process anything that was happening. How was he here?? Your gaze caught on your husband, still on the floor. “Oh my god, Ransom!” You dropped to your knees next to him. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I–” he started, then carefully flexed his jaw, “Fucking shit. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Your hand hovered uselessly between you as he slowly stood up. You turned back to Steve, who had stepped fully into the house, closing the door behind him, and now had Lola in his arms, softly greeting her as she snuggled into him adoringly.

“Steve, what are you–” you started but then you saw the suitcase at his feet. “Are you staying here?!”

Steve finally turned his attention away from Lola. “Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously, with a challenging glare to Ransom. 

You sighed helplessly. “There’s no guest room…”

“Yeah,” Ransom grumbled as he rifled through the freezer until he pulled out an icepack, “as thrilled as we are to see you, we do have hotels here. You might be more comfortable in one.” The icy coldness that filled the room wasn’t just from the open freezer. 

Steve took an aggressive step forward. “And leave you alone with my sister for even one more day? I don’t think so. I’ll be just fine on the couch. I’m easy like that.”

“Steve–” you tried but you were quickly interrupted.

“Really? You’re here for your step-sister? That’s interesting because my understanding is that you haven’t had much time for her lately,” Ransom said snidely.

Steve started to puff up in a way that was much too familiar from the playground fights of your childhood. “Oh my god!” you yelled. “Stop! Both of you!” You briefly put your head in your hands and took a deep breath, then one more. You straightened yourself and tried to deal with one of the fifteen problems at hand. “Ok, I, uh, I guess I’ll see about making up the couch,” you said, then stomped your way upstairs to the linen closet.

Steve followed close behind you, still carrying around Lola. “You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “you haven’t actually said ‘hello’ to me yet.”

“No,” you growled, as you looked through the closet without turning around to look at him, “I guess I haven’t.”

He pulled your arm lightly. “Hey, come on,” he said. “I’ll help pull this stuff together if you tell me where to look. We both know Ransom’s just gonna let you do all the work.”

That earned you finally turning to face him. “Well, he did just get punched in the face, so I think he’s a little more concerned with that than making you feel comfortable right now.”

Steve’s face scrunched up. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you? Well, let's see. You showed up unannounced and punched my husband in the face. Yeah! I'm a little mad at you!”

“He deserved it,” he growled. 

“How would you know?!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You sighed. You did not have the energy for this. And where were all the blankets? You remembered the pile currently in the corner of the gym. Right. You turned around and walked down the hall to your makeshift bedroom, Steve still on your heels. As soon as you walked in, he stopped, putting Lola down. “The fuck is this?” he asked, harshly, his hands on his hips. You realized your mistake immediately. His eyes scanned the cushions and blankets set up, the exercise equipment still there, your few possessions strewn about. “Is this where you sleep?”

“No! Just last night.”

“Why did you need to sleep here last night?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

It felt like a trap. If you told him you’d panicked and needed some space, he would ask why. Steve never dropped anything. And you just could not tell him you were pregnant right now. It was the absolute worst time for that. But you didn’t know how else to answer his question. “I just needed a little space.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. God, you hated being the focus of that look. It was the look he gave you when you scratched his car when you were 16, or when you were 18 and he had to pick you up from a party at 2 AM and wouldn’t tell him what had happened. It was the look you got when you were little and used to steal his paintbrushes so he couldn’t paint and he’d have to hang out with you. You’d hated that look since you were six years old. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He just shook his head for a moment. “You sounded so sad and tired this morning. And I’m just so sick of not being able to see you, not being able to tell what’s wrong.” He took a deep breath. “Not being able to protect you.”

“Steve,” was all you could say at first. Then you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You launched yourself at him and wrapped him in a big hug. He was a fucking idiot. You couldn’t believe he’d punched Ransom. You were so mad about that. But he was your fucking brother and you’d missed him so much.

He hugged you back tightly. “It’s so fucking good to see you, Chipmunk,” he murmured into your hair. 

You stood there, savoring the closeness for as long as you both were able, and then you pulled away and stared down at the mound of blankets and cushions. The big couch downstairs had been pulled apart the night before to give you a place to sleep. That severely limited the options for Steve. You sighed. “I guess it would make the most sense to put you in here.”

“And where would you sleep?” he asked, his tone taking on an aggressive edge, aimed at the man downstairs, you knew.

“I’d go back to the bedroom,” you said, with a put-on casualness like you weren’t aware of the fight that was about to happen.

“Absolutely not,” Steve said firmly.

“Oh my god, Steve! You can’t control where I sleep!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“The whole reason I’m here is to make sure you’re ok and that he can’t hurt you! I’m not gonna do something that puts you back in his space!”

“Steve, I don’t need that! He isn’t doing anything!”

“Then why did you text me? Why were you crying?!”

You did not have the energy for the conversation that would answer that question, so all you could do was glare at him, which he answered with a confrontational jut of his chin. The two of you just stood there locked in a staredown until Steve muttered, “What sort of grown man doesn’t have anywhere for guests, anyway?”

“The sort that likes an excuse to stop people from staying at his house,” Ransom said pointedly from the doorway, startling you both. “What exactly do you think I’d do, with you right across the hall? I’ve already gotten a taste of how you solve problems,” he said to Steve, gesturing with the ice pack still held to his face. Then, much softer, to you, he said, “I know you want your own space, but you’re more than welcome to share the bed until your stuff gets here. That’s all I wanted to say.” Then he turned around and walked into his bedroom, Lola scampering behind him, ready for bed.

You stared after him, unable to parse the feelings bubbling up inside you. He’d been so different lately. Or maybe you were just finally looking.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve asking “Your stuff?”

You turned your attention back to him. He was watching you too carefully. “Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to feign nonchalance. “I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here. I’m turning this into my room.” He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask too many questions probably so you cut him off. “It’s been a really long couple of days, Steve. I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

He set his jaw. You could tell he wanted to fight you. Force you to talk to him. But you held your ground, looked him in the eye with a hint of challenge, and eventually he deflated, just a bit. “Yeah, okay,” he relented before he pulled you into another crushing hug. You’d really missed his hugs.

“I am happy to see you,” you whispered.

“Me too, Chip,” he whispered right back. 

After making sure he had everything he needed, you left Steve alone with a quiet “goodnight,” and made your way back to Ransom’s bedroom. He and Lola were already snuggled in bed, snoring softly. You quickly went through your bedtime routine and then joined them, very careful not to wake either of them. After how eventful and emotionally wrought the last few days had been, it didn’t take you long at all to drift off into sleep.

You woke up in the morning pressed up against Ransom, face to face, your feet tangled together, Lola on your legs. You carefully pushed yourself away, watching him warily to see if he roused at all. Thankfully he didn't. You were sure he wouldn't be thrilled with how close you'd both gotten in the night. 

You quietly got up and let yourself out of the bedroom, a now wide-awake Lola at your heels. The door to the gym was open and the room was empty, Steve’s suitcase wide open on the floor next to the nest of cushions and blankets. You didn’t hear anyone moving around downstairs, so he was out on a run, most likely.

You headed down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then started looking through the fridge for the leftovers from the previous morning. As you were doing that, a creak on the stairs let you know Ransom was joining you. 

“Morning,” he said, voice scratchy from disuse. He went to the coffee maker and just stood in front of it, waiting for the pot to finish.

“Morning,” you said from inside the fridge. You found the leftovers and closed the appliance, finally turning to him with a gasp. You put the food down on the counter and went to Ransom. “Oh my god, your face!” A large bruise in a deep shade of purple took up most of the left side of his face, centered on his jaw and cheekbone. You rushed to his side and without thinking, extended a hand to touch him before you realized what you were doing and pulled back at the last minute, embarrassed. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbled, his attention still fixed on the coffee slowly dripping into the carafe. 

You stared at him for another moment, before you just couldn’t keep your feelings inside anymore. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

He finally looked at you at that. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked.

So much, you thought to yourself, maybe, probably. But for right now, in this instance, you just shrugged. “He’s my brother,” you said, a little helplessly. 

“Did you tell him to punch me?” he asked as he decided he’d waited long enough and filled his mug.

“What? No!”

“Then there’s nothing to apologize for.” He leaned back against the counter as he sipped his coffee. “Where is your brother?”

“On a run, probably,” you said, now helping yourself to a mug and fixing it up how you liked.

Ransom scoffed. “Of course, he is.” He looked at you carefully for a long moment and you struggled not to squirm under his gaze. “You happy he’s here?”

“Of course!” you said, too quickly. He kept looking at you. “I mean, I didn’t invite him here, so… It was just a surprise. I don’t know. He’s very protective, you know?” Ransom raised an eyebrow and you couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. “Right, yeah. He just– Sometimes, he just– he decides what’s right. And then there’s no changing his mind.”

He made a little hum, then nodded and said, “Yeah, I know. I have met him before. But why are you worried about that?”

“Uh, he just, he isn’t always a good listener. And he’s gonna have a lot of questions for me today. I know he will. And I don’t know how I’ll answer any of them without telling him about the– that I’m pregnant.”

“And you don’t want to?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

“No, that’s not exactly– I just–” you sighed. “This isn’t what he ever wanted for me.”

Ransom made a small noise of understanding. “You think he’ll be disappointed in you.”

There was no judgment in his tone, but it still made you shrink in on yourself a little. You nodded.

“Listen, it’s no secret that I think he’s a sanctimonious asshole.” You opened your mouth to start defending Steve, but Ransom shook his head. “Let me finish. It’s clear that he loves you. I think you’ll be ok. And if he does give you shit, well, it’ll be just one of a few things he’s done to earn himself a punch.”

“Oh god, Ransom no, please don’t do that.”

He grinned at you. “Nah, I won’t. Some of us have self-control. I know him being here is important to you. I’ll try not to do anything to mess that up.”

You wondered if the warm feelings spreading through you would always be such a surprise. If he would always be such a surprise.

“But,” he continued before he paused to drain his mug. “I am going to try to get out of here before he gets back.”

“This is your house. You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, “you should have a nice day with your brother.” Then he put his mug in the dishwasher and went back upstairs to get dressed, with you staring after him.

Ransom left and, sure enough, Steve got back a few minutes later. He went straight to the shower and you tried to busy yourself and calm your nerves while you waited for the inevitable conversation.

When he came down, his hair was still wet and he was dressed in jeans and a plain white tee. There was nothing casual about his demeanor though.

“So,” he said, sitting down next to you in the kitchen, “you ready to tell me what’s been going on here?”

You started to get up. “Do you want some breakfast first? We have some pastries left over from yesterday.”

He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down into your chair. “No, I want to know why you've sounded so upset every time I’ve talked to you since the wedding.”

You squirmed under his sharp gaze. You knew him. You knew that he wouldn’t give up until you told him everything. But you also knew how awful his reaction would be and you just weren’t ready to give everything up. “It’s just been a lot of change, you know? Of course, it’s been hard. I’m just… adjusting. It’s been an adjustment period.”

“Adjusting to what, exactly?”

“To marriage! To living in a new place! You know, the obvious.”

“The obvious is why you always sound like you’ve been crying?”

You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands in frustration. “You know me,” you tried. “I’m emotional.”

“You’re emotional?! Is that what he says to you?” Shit, he was already getting angry and you hadn’t even told him anything yet.

“No! God, Steve. That’s not what I’m saying! I’m just trying to say that it’s been a difficult transition, but I’m starting to feel better about it.”

“And I’m asking you to tell me exactly what about it has been difficult.” 

You wanted to growl. Once he got an idea in his head, he was so fucking intractable. “What’s been difficult about moving across the country to a brand new city and living with a stranger??”

“Yes. Exactly. In detail please.” And then he just stared at you and you wanted to scream. 

“I’ve been a little lonely,” you conceded, hoping a partial truth might satisfy him. “Ransom has to work a lot and it’s been hard to know what to do with my time.” And then, without giving him time to react, you asked. “How about you? How are you? Now that I’m out of the way, is Joseph trying to set up matches for you?” It was a low blow, but you were grasping for any defense you could reach.

“I don't understand why you won't just tell me what's going on.”

“I'm trying! It's just a lot more complicated than you realize and I think that maybe once you're in an arrangement of your own–”

“My marriage won't be anything like this.”

At first, all you could do was gape at him. Then you just sighed. “I don’t think,” you started slowly, “that you can have any idea what a marriage like this is really like until you’re inside of it, Steve.”

He shook his head. “I know what sort of man I am,” he said confidently. “I know how I’ll treat my wife.” And you saw it then, the pity in his eyes, and everything in you bristled.

Sanctimonious. That was the word Ransom had used. You loved your step-brother so much. You’d defend him to the end of the world and back. But he really could be such an asshole sometimes. And seeing him now, like this, you could understand why someone like Ransom might hate him.

“Well,” you said, trying so hard to keep your voice even, “you’ll be lucky then. To have such an easy go of it. I hope you don’t find that it’s harder than it looks. That appearances can be deceiving.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s why I’m asking you to tell me. I don’t understand why you won’t.”

“Because I know you won’t listen! You’ve already decided what’s going on here!”

“Well, it seems pretty obvious! I know you, and I certainly know him. So yeah, when you’re crying every time I talk to you and you send me cryptic texts wishing I was here, yeah, I think I have a pretty good guess about what’s been going on.”

“You’re so frustrating,” you growled a little. Then you sighed. It was inevitable. You knew it. At this point, you just wanted to get it over with. “Ok. Fine. But you have to actually listen to me, ok? Like, to what I’m actually saying. You can’t just jump to conclusions. Okay? I’m serious.”

“Chip, yes, of course. I’ll always listen to you.”

You took a deep, fortifying breath. “It’s been– It’s been really hard here. I’ve been on my own almost the whole time and it’s just been really lonely. You just– you can’t know what it’s like to be married to a stranger. We haven’t known how to talk to each other and I just– It’s been really hard for both of us.” At that, Steve scoffed, but you couldn’t stop now, you had to get this out. “Anyway, um, a few days ago I learned some news, that was–” You paused to try to find the right word. You had no idea how to classify it. It wasn’t upsetting, per se, but what other word was there? “And then Ransom found out and that’s when I texted you. And slept in the gym.”

“What was the news?” Steve asked, gravely. He was looking at you so intently. You really didn’t want to do this, but you knew you had to.

You looked off into the corner of the room, unable to get this out and meet his eyes at the same time. “I’m pregnant,” you said quietly.

Steve stood up so abruptly that you couldn’t help but jump. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he actually snarled. You’d never heard his voice do that before.

“Steve, please,” you started, both hands out in a placating manner. “Please, can you calm down so we can talk about this?”

But, of course, he ignored you. “Where is he?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, helplessly. “He’s out. I don’t, I don’t know where.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw and stood rigidly, his hands on his hips. You could practically see the untapped adrenaline coursing through him.

“Can you please just sit down?” you pleaded. “Just take a deep breath and sit down and we can–”

“I’m going for a run,” he said, curtly, then turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

“But you just got back from one!” you called after him. He wasn’t even dressed for a run. But that apparently didn’t matter. He was gone.

You just sat there for a moment, completely lost, with no idea what to do. Then you got your phone out and texted Ransom.

He knows

Don’t come back for a few hours, I think. He needs time to calm down. I’m sorry.

The checkmark showing he’d seen your message appeared almost immediately, quickly followed by the three dots that showed he was typing, but then those disappeared. A few moments later they came back but quickly disappeared again. No response ever came.

The men from the storage company came to take Ransom’s gym equipment away. You threw yourself into directing them, happy to have a distraction from worrying about where Steve was, what he was feeling. But then they were done, the room was empty, and Steve was still gone.

Ransom got back first. He found you in the former gym, trying to rearrange the couch cushions in the center of the room into something more comfortable. He paused in the doorway, Lola dancing around at his feet. “Where’s Steve?” he asked, as he bent down to pet her.

“He, uh–” you said without looking up, “he went for another run. He wasn’t very happy.”

“Fucking asshole,” Ransom muttered.

You finally looked at him, shaking your head. “No, he just doesn’t handle it well when he doesn’t know how to fix something.”

Ransom looked at you very seriously. “And if he makes that your problem, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“That's not– That's not what happened. That's not what he's doing.”

He stared at you for a long moment, causing you to look away, uncomfortable with the attention. “Okay,” he finally said with the hint of a sigh. “Well, I’ll be downstairs if you want company or…” He trailed off and shrugged, then left the room.

About an hour later, Steve burst back into the house, yelling into his phone. “Well, where the hell did that money go? There’s no reason for him to be that over-budget. I’ve seen the dailies. –No, you get down there and you get that set back under control. –I can’t, I’m not in LA. There was a family emergency. –Yeah, I know Joseph is still there. He isn’t my only family, is he? Listen, just go do your goddamn job.” With that, he hung up his phone forcefully then stomped upstairs without acknowledging you or Ransom where you were seated on the couch.  

You could feel the irritation coming off of Ransom but he didn’t say anything. You were grateful. You had no idea what to make of Steve right now, how to explain him. Or excuse him. The awkward silence was preferable to trying.

Several minutes later, Steve came back down, changed into fresh clothes again. He smiled at you in greeting and if not for the tense set of his shoulders, you would have thought everything was fine. “Hey,” he said, “I just ordered the two of us some food.”

“The two of us?” you asked, looking pointedly at Ransom.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed and the fucking fake look of surprise on his face made you want to scream. “I didn’t realize he was back. Well, I’m sure it’s fine. It’s his house. He’ll be able to scrounge up something.”

“Steve,��� you started. Of all the unbelievably rude– 

Your ramp-up to letting your brother have it was cut short by Ransom’s hand on your wrist. “It’s fine,” he said quietly. He looked tired and sad in a way you hated. He looked annoyed too, beyond belief, but underneath all that, you also saw something pleading in his expression. You remembered what he’d said this morning. He wanted you to have a nice day with your brother. So you swallowed down all of your anger and didn’t say anything. But you cataloged everything so you could have a private conversation with Steve later.

“See,” Steve said with a smug grin, “it’s fine. This will be nice. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten to pig out together. I got all your favorites.”

Despite your protests, Ransom made himself scarce. The food arrived shortly after he disappeared and Steve dished it up like nothing was wrong. You sat and ate with him, even though you weren’t much up for conversation, despite his frequent efforts. He never said anything about the news you’d shared that morning. You tried not to be too hurt by that. 

As you were finishing up, Ransom quietly reappeared, grabbing something to drink from the fridge. Before he could run back upstairs, you stopped him, feeling awful that he must feel so unwelcome in his own home. “Do you want some food?” you asked, gesturing to the copious leftovers. “I could make you a plate.”

Not waiting for Ransom’s response, Steve cut in. “Is that how it works around here?” he asked, not of you but Ransom. “You’ve got her waiting on you on hand and foot?” his voice teeming with anger.

“Steve,” you hissed, trying to stop him, but he didn’t notice.

“I mean, I get it,” he continued, and there was a sharp edge to his voice that made you very nervous, “you must have thought you hit the jackpot, huh? Some sweet, naive little thing who's too young to really be plugged into the right part of the prep school rumor mill. Hasn't heard about the designer drugs, or the girls, or the parties. All the trouble your family's had to bail you out of. That's why they had to look clear on the other coast for an arrangement for you, huh? They had to go that far to find anyone who didn't already know what a piece of shit you are–”

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS” you shouted, your stool loudly scraping against the hardwood floor as you stood up. It’d barely been there, you’d barely seen it, the flash of deep hurt on Ransom’s face before he’d covered it up, first with a blank mask, then a sneer that threatened to bring everything down. But you wouldn’t let that happen. You were fucking done. You couldn’t deal with this anymore. “Can you just stop, Steve?! I’m so tired of this shit!” you yelled at him.

“What?” they said in unison, both men facing you now, surprised.

“Lola!” you called out. “Come on! Steve and I are taking you for a walk!” She came racing down the stairs, and you quickly put on her harness and leash. Then you were out the door, trusting that Steve was behind you.

You walked in silence for a few blocks. You could feel him watching you warily, but you didn’t turn around to look at him. You didn’t think you’d ever been so mad at him in your life. It might’ve been the angriest you’d ever been with anyone. Your hands were shaking. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you finally seethed, stopping so suddenly that he almost ran into you.

“What?” His obliviousness made you even angrier.

You finally turned on him, your face heating up with rage. “You’re such a fucking asshole! You’re fucking everything up!”

He cowed just a bit at your glare but quickly recovered. “What are you talking about?! I came here to help you!”

“Well, you aren’t! I keep telling you that you aren’t but you never fucking listen to me!”

He recoiled a little, and then his eyes went steely. “Really? I never listen to you? I’m the only one who ever listens to you!”

Even if that were true, there was something about the way he said it that really pissed you off. “Fuck you!” you said and charged forward with Lola running to catch up behind you.

A moment later, Steve was on your heels again. “What is going on with you? You’ve been acting off since I got here.”

You spun on your heels to face him. “I’ve been acting off?! I wonder why! You’ve just barged in here like a bull in a china shop, not caring at all about the damage you’re doing!”

“I’m here to help you. I’ve been defending you!”

“Yeah, now! You’re trying to help me, now!”

“What does that mean?”

“Where have you been, Steve? You’ve been MIA the last three months, and now when things might actually get better, now you’re here to ‘defend’ me.”

“Better? This,” he hissed, flinging an arm towards your stomach, “is better?!”

“We had to do it. There was a clause in the contract. You know that!”

He scoffed. “Yeah, and I'm sure he reminded you of that every chance he got, as he fully took advantage of it.”

If he hadn't already set you off, that would be the thing to do it. “Never! Ok? I was the one who pushed it. I was the one who rushed It. Me. Never him.”

That brought Steve up short. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Because of your aunt!”

For a frustratingly long moment, he just gave you a confused look. Then you finally saw the realization dawn on his face. “Oh. Laura.”

“Yes, Laura! That wasn't going to be me. Not ever.”

“I never would have let that happen!”

The laugh that burst out of you at that was cold, hard. “How?” you asked. “You're always saying shit like that, but what, exactly, would you have done?”

He started to answer, but you cut him off quickly, shaking your head.

“This is my life, Steve. Mine. I’m the one who has to actually live it. I don’t need you judging me for how I choose to survive it.”

“You shouldn't have to just survive it,” he said. His tone had suddenly turned sad. It made you even angrier. 

“I'll be lucky to survive it,” you growled. “You get to just waltz around, forgetting how this world works whenever it's convenient for you. Meanwhile, I have to claw and fight for just the possibility that I might not turn into my mom.” You took a deep breath. “Ransom, at least, can fucking see that. He's stuck in this mess with me, and I think he might actually want to try. You’re not going to ruin that for me just because he insulted you once at a cocktail party or whatever.” You turned on your heels. You were exhausted. You didn't have the energy for any more of this. “I'm going back. You can come if you want. But you better fucking apologize. He didn't deserve that. No matter what he’s done, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way by you.”

Steve was a few minutes behind you getting back to the house, and he did apologize, although through gritted teeth. The whole time, Ransom’s eyes were on you. 

You declared you were going to bed shortly after. It was too early, but you didn't care. You were done with this day.

As you were changing into your sleep clothes, Ransom quietly let himself into his room. You both looked a little startled by your state of undress. Part of you wanted to cover up. It felt so intimate, changing in front of him. But you knew that was silly. He'd already seen so much more of you. 

He just stood there for a long moment before he finally spoke. “You yelled at him for me.”

“Yeah,” you said. “He deserved it.”

“But he's your brother.” He almost seemed confused. 

The absolutely absurd thought And you're my husband popped into your head unbidden, but thankfully you didn't vocalize it. “That doesn't change the fact that he was wrong.”

Ransom didn’t say anything. Just stood there with a furrowed brow. After too much silence you asked softly, “Did I do something wrong?”

He jolted a little, like he’d been somewhere else, then shook his head. “No, sorry, I just–” He took a breath. “Thank you. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” 

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. You suddenly felt so sad for him. But honestly, the only person who’d ever done anything like this for you had been Steve. And you’d seen Ransom’s family. You knew he’d never had a Steve.

Sparing you from having to figure out a response, Ransom took a deep breath, “Listen,” he started, “about the things he said, I–”

You cut him off with a shake of your head. “We don’t need to talk about that right now. Sometime, maybe, but not right now.” Nothing about his past would change things for you now. You’d still be married to him either way. It was better to just focus on the man he was showing himself to be now.

Ransom took a long moment and looked at you carefully. Finally, he asked, “Did you yell at him for yourself too?”

You nodded, then added a quiet, “I did.”

“Good,” he said, then started to turn around. “I’ll try not to wake you when I come to bed. Good night.”

“Good night,” you whispered.

Right before he left the room, he turned back to add one more thing. “I’ve never seen you as naive. Not for a moment in this whole thing.” Then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

You just stood there, in the middle of the room, unable to move for a few minutes. Then you took a deep breath and moved into the bathroom. As you finished getting ready for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that maybe you had two people in your corner now.

Your bedroom furniture and other belongings were delivered the next day. The movers set up the heavy furniture and then left everything else to you. As you started to begin unpacking, there was a hesitant knock on the door frame. 

Steve stood just outside your now bedroom, looking far less sure than you were used to. “Would you like some help?” he asked softly. 

“Sure,” you said, with a little shrug, pushing some boxes in his direction.

The two of you mostly worked in silence, only broken by Steve’s occasional questions of where you wanted your things to go. After a while he finally broke, “Dad’s been piling a ton of new stuff on my plate.” You stopped what you were doing and looked at him, listening. “Responsibilities and projects and– He wants me to take on more of being the face of the studio, too, so lots of parties and dinners and stuff. My schedule has been out of control. I’d think he was getting ready to retire if I didn’t actually know him.” He let out a weak chuckle. When you didn’t react, didn’t join him, he put his hands up in defense. “Not an excuse, just–” he shrugged his shoulders a little helplessly and sighed, “just an explanation, I guess.”

“You told me that I could call you any time of day for any reason. That’s what you said. And then I did, and you were nowhere to be found.”

“I know,” he started, “I–”

You shook your head. It was your turn to talk. “I spent months here feeling more alone than I ever have in my life. I’ve had nothing to do, no one to talk to. I was living with someone I thought I needed to be scared of.” You paused, wondering if that would set Steve off, but he just sat there, waiting for you to continue. Like he was really trying to listen this time. “His family’s been so awful to me, his mom especially. And you know my mom's been no help. She just kept telling me to keep him happy, even though I didn't know how. And I didn't know how to talk to him and he didn't know how to talk to me. But I knew the only way I could even start to feel secure here was if we fulfilled every part of the contract. So,” you put your hand on your stomach self-consciously and shook your head. “And the only person I actually wanted to talk to was you, and you wouldn't pick up your fucking phone. It felt like I was just stuck here while you went back to your life and forgot about me.” Tears spilled past your lashes and you hurried to wipe them away.

Steve’s face, which had grown sadder as you'd been talking, completely crumpled. He crawled from his sitting position across the room to you as fast as he could. “Hey, no,” he said emphatically as soon as he was sitting in front of you. “I think about you all the time. I've missed you so much. I've been so worried about you. I know I haven't done a good job showing it. I'm so sorry I ever made you feel like I didn't care. I–” He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment. When he opened them, they had the distinct shine of unshed tears. “Talking to you was really hard. I felt like you weren’t actually telling me anything.” Before you even opened your mouth, Steve put up a hand to stop you from saying anything. “I'm not saying any of this was your fault. I know it's all mine. But I just didn’t know how to get you to talk to me. And if you wouldn't tell me what was wrong, then I couldn't fix it. I felt so useless. Every time we talked I felt so fucking useless. And so sometimes,” he paused like he was bracing himself, “sometimes it was kind of a relief to have the excuse of being busy. To have a reason to not call or text you back right away. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I was always thinking about you. I was always worried about you. But sometimes I just couldn't fucking talk to you.”

It took your breath away, the intense stab of hurt you felt. “I’ve never needed you to be useful,” you gasped out through your tears. “I just need you to be there for me. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I just need you to be there for me.”

“Shit,” he choked out, his voice so thick. “I know.” He moved forward, then paused, waiting for you to stop him. When you didn’t, he lunged for you, wrapping you in his arms. “I know. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.”

You just sat like that, holding each other for several minutes. When you finally pulled apart, Steve blinked his eyes clear and said, “I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, and took a deep breath, “and I forgive you for doing it anyway.”

You watched some of the rigidness leave his shoulders. “Thank you,” he breathed out.

Neither of you said anything, and there was still this tension in the room. You were so tired of it. You just wanted your brother back. You just wanted any normalcy you could possibly get, so you wiped the tears from your eyes and said, “You're right. I wasn't telling you anything. I think because I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn't listen past the first two words and then do something completely wild, like fly all the way across the country to punch Ransom in the face. Ridiculous, right?”

He just stared at you in shock and then clocked the wry smile on your face. He laughed despite himself, then rolled his eyes and groaned. “You're sure he didn’t deserve it?”

You pulled a small pillow from the box beside you and threw it at him, annoyed as he dodged it easily. “Yes, I’m sure, you asshole!” You scowled at him, but you couldn’t quite keep the corners of your mouth from ticking up. The whole room felt lighter now, easier to breathe in. It was such a relief.

“I can’t believe you actually like him now,” Steve whined, his whole face scrunched up in disgust.

You shrugged. “I still don’t really know him. But I’m going to try to. We both are, I hope. I don’t know, I think maybe we could be friends, eventually.” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a best-case scenario I never really imagined.”

Steve looked at you thoughtfully, and with a hint of playfulness, said, “Well. I’m never going to like him.” His eyes got a little more serious. “But I’m really happy, and so relieved, that things are getting better for you.”

“Yeah, me too,” you said softly. Then you both went back to unpacking, conversation ebbing in and out much easier now.

Eventually, you heard him let out a long sigh. You turned to look at him as he carefully pulled something from a box. Oh. It was Mr. Bun Bun, your favorite stuffed animal as a kid. You remembered crying as you packed it away to put into storage, Steve sitting next to you, gently rubbing your back.

He slowly took a few steps to the head of your bed and then reverently placed it against your pillows. He just stared at it for a moment and then looked around at the rest of the room. “Wow,” he said, and he sounded so sad, “I guess you really live here now.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. “I've been here for months.”

“Yeah, I know. But I guess,” he shrugged, “I guess it still sort of felt like you'd be back any day. But all your stuff's here now. It just– It feels final.”

You looked around the room as well. It wasn't exactly like your old room in your old apartment but this was the closest thing you'd had to feeling home in months. “Yeah,” you said quietly, not quite sure what to do with these feelings. “I guess it does.”

Steve sat down on your bed and you immediately joined him. He knocked his knee against yours. “I know I keep saying this, but I really do miss you. It’s so weird to not have you in LA anymore. To go to all these parties and not be able to talk to you there. Or to be able to just drop by your apartment when I need to see you. Or when you need to see me.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That’s why it’s so important for us to actually keep in touch.”

“I know,” he said, seriously. “I’ll be better at it. I promise.”

You hummed in response and grabbed his hand. Now that everything was out in the open, it was such a relief to just be able to enjoy his closeness, without the tension hanging over both of you.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and spoke again. “I’m gonna go home tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“You were right. I’m just in the way here. It’s time for me to go.”

“Ok,” you replied, your voice small. You weren’t sure how to feel about that—the last few days had been so hard and so exhausting. But you’d finally gotten your brother back and now he was leaving again? “Are you sure?”

He jostled you with his shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently with a smile. “I’ll be back. And I’ll even let you invite me next time.”

You smiled back. “Advanced notice?” you asked. “How novel!”

Steve grabbed one of your pillows and hit you with it. You collapsed into giggles, feeling lighter than you had for a long time.

You spent the rest of the day with your brother, which warmed your soul even more than you thought you needed. 

You took Lola out for a short walk in the evening, while Steve finished gathering his things before the car would come to pick him up. When you came back in, you found Steve and Ransom locked in a serious conversation. They spoke in hushed tones, leaning across the kitchen island to face each other. There was no yelling. No tensing muscles ready for a fight. All the same, it made you very nervous. 

They both quieted as they noticed your presence. That didn’t help to quell your worry at all. “What’s going on here?” 

Steve gave you his trademarked boyish grin. “Just getting to know my brother-in-law.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously then cast a concerned glance at Ransom, but he waved you off with a reassuring shake of his head. Steve was still grinning at you like everything was fine. He really could be such an asshole. “Sure. OK,” you said, resigned to whatever weird dynamic was happening in front of you. “Are you all ready?”

“Yup,” Steve nodded, gesturing to where his luggage was waiting by the door. “Car should be here any minute.”

You nodded back, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. He pulled you into a hug quickly. He just held you for a moment before you heard Ransom clear his throat behind you. “I’ll give you two your privacy.”

You pulled away just enough to see Steve look over your shoulder so he could say, “Remember what we talked about.”

You looked over to Ransom who held Steve’s gaze and firmly said, “Yeah, you too,” then went upstairs.

“The fuck was that?” you asked Steve.

“Nothing, just a conversation we needed to have.”

“Steve,” you sighed in exasperation as you separated yourself from him.

He put up his hands in defense. “It’s fine. I’m playing nice. I promise.”

“Sure.”

He took a step back and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s one more thing I need to say to you. I should have done it yesterday when you first–” he shook his head. “My reaction when you told me about the baby was awful, I know that. And I don’t know if ‘congratulations’ is something you want to hear right now, so I just want to say that I’ll be here for you, whatever you need. And I’ll be here for the baby too. OK? I just really needed to say that.”

You searched his face, his eyes for anything that might warn you that his words were empty, but all you found was sincerity. You took a deep breath. “All I need is for you to pick up your phone.”

“I know,” he nodded quickly. “I will.”

You were so torn between the exhaustion and frustration of the last few days and just how much you'd missed your brother. You pulled him into another hug. “You’re such a jerk,” you said with a hint of fondness.

“I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

“And I love you so much.”

You felt him exhale, any remaining uneasiness bleeding out of him. “I know. I love you too.”

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. “Your car is here,” you said sadly, pulling away.

“Hey, that’s ok. It’s not like they’ll leave without me.”

“No,” you shook your head, “you should go. You don’t want to get home too late.”

“Oh, chipmunk,” he sighed. “Ok, one more,” then hugged you again. “I’m so proud of you.”

You pulled back to look him in the eye. “What for?”

He took a moment to gather his words. Finally, he said, looking you right in the eye, “For being so much stronger than you should have to be.”

You had no idea what to say to that so you walked over to the door, Steve right behind you. 

At the door, he put one hand on his suitcase, and with the other, he grabbed your hand. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”

You nodded, searching for something to say. “Uh, thanks for coming.”

That elicited a big hearty laugh from him. “Yeah, sure.” He squeezed your hand. “Take good care of yourself.”

“You too,” you said, opening the door for him.

He gave you a big smile before he walked out the door. You watched the driver take Steve’s suitcase from him and open the back door for Steve to get in. You stayed in the doorway until the car slowly backed down the driveway and turned onto the road. After closing the door, you still stayed where you were, trying to breathe through the flood of emotions overtaking you. You already missed him so much, yet you were so relieved he was gone. What were you supposed to do with that?

You were finally jolted out of your reverie by the sound of Ransom coming down the stairs, the tinkling of Lola’s collar accompanying him. “Steve’s gone?” he asked as he came off the last step. 

When you nodded, you saw the way his shoulders slumped in relief. You held back the apology desperate to crawl out of your mouth. Steve’s actions weren’t your responsibility, you tried so hard to remember. But still, Ransom had lost the comfort of his own home for days. The guilt was there.

He got himself a water out of the fridge and then looked at you carefully. “How are you?”

The reflex to tell him you were fine was strong, but you did your best to resist it and answered honestly. “I don’t really know.”

He smiled a little ruefully. “I have no idea what’s normal for siblings.”

You chuckled lightly. “Neither do I.”

He took several steps towards you and you couldn’t help the way your body swayed in his direction, just a little. “But you’re alright?’

You nodded and said softly, “I will be.”

“Good.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the way the fingers on one of his hands drummed against his thigh. “Well. I just wanted to check on you before I went to bed.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, strangely aware of the space between you. “I appreciate it. It was a weird few days, but I think I’m ok. Or I will be.”

“Yeah. Good,” he said again. 

You both just stood there for a moment, the air around you oddly charged, until Lola pawed at your leg. “Right. Well, she needs to go out. So. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, then turned toward the sink as you went outside with Lola.

When you got back in, there was no sign of Ransom, so you led Lola upstairs to your new bedroom. She immediately hopped onto your bed, wagging her tail wildly. As you looked around, all of your things almost as they’d been in your apartment in LA, those feelings you felt while unpacking your things with Steve grew in you even more. You smiled at your little dog. “Yeah, feels almost like home, doesn’t it, Lola?”

Tag list is open

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[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting act 3 & emmrichs final romance scene (mortal & lich)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes) emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

look this is half a thirst trap post im not gonna lie to ya

ACT 3 - OH MY GOD.

Now. We all know that dreaded argument scene that fills us with angst and really gets us in our feelings for the final 4 hours. which was 100% done on purpose, thanks bioware, you succeeded. i did in fact regret that conversation and cried immensely

We have the argument with Emmrich, then we have our mini resolution of Emmrich trying to apologise, and Rook responding with, "We'll talk back home Emmrich, I promise."

Fast forward an hour, and ive just about pulled the plug because emmrich gets trapped by Ghil, someone dies, and then we are sucked into the fade - trapped. FOR WEEKS.

I truly wish bioware included flashbacks, or rook being able to see the lighthouse whilst they were trapped so that we see our LI panic, and fret. Can you imagine Emmrich? The last conversation they had was a fight, and a fight that stemmed from love at that. regardless of the route you took, both rook and emmrich regret that argument deeply. I mean deeply. And most likely regret not saying, i love you in that moment. or any moment. god when emmrich got sucked up by ghil i was locked IN. nothing was stopping me.

Emmrich wouldn't of been able to sleep, he wouldn't of been eating, he would've been working day AND night like a dog on the dagger. he wouldve been irritable, he wouldve been incessant, he wouldn't of been put together, not clean shaven. id bet money on this.

despite bioware not giving us a good reconciliation scene or a glimpse at what happend during those weeks - BOY DID THEY FUCKING EAt with the pulling you out of the fade section. Oh my god. Emmrich's voice being timed right after Varric saying with "You have everything you need", AND THEN PULLING YOU OUT OF THE FADE WITH HIS ARM.

anyway - AFTER T H A T.

You have the romance scene (mortal dissection | lich dissection)

and then my god - i have no words - literally - just look

goodbye ovaries

The Final Goodbye (Mortal/Lich)

Now these are the exact same for both mortal and lich, ill tell you when its different below - to which this is dissapointing as I feel like the final romance scene is so 'meh'? it's very idk, scripted. I feel like there needs to be a dip in emmrichs voice when he says i love you to rook - maybe its just me, but regardless, its meh meh to me. the whole scene is just kinda -

I'll skip to the romance part anyway as there is nothing of substance in the first half

1. I love you, too.

I feel like - underwhelmed with this response. its just slapped on like a bumpersticker

2. I'm glad we met.

I cannot believe that this line of dialogue is hidden beneath the most basic of thought processes - i love it

its emotonal - its hopeful

YESSSS - PLAN WITH ME!!!! This is digustingly impactful if playing the mortal path. the man has hope for the future. oh I need not say more for its delivered so wonderfully.

HEHE

3. Be safe. I can't lose you.

I thoroughly enjoy this path, I feel so much emotion from Rook and Emmrich in these lines. the worry, the love. although it is kind of a shock to the system because we still went from. OH MY GOD DEATH, to oh yeah death with Emmrich.

exactly how the argument scene should've went, BUT, I get it, now if only we had a reconciliation scene in the middle or a conversation, i'd have no notes and be out of business

Now here is the divergence, of like two lines, that occurrs directly after the above dialogue

Lich Version

Mortal Version

its sweet, its sensual, its loving. but there no oomf. theres no, fear. the mortal version is my preference here as I like the slight reminder of emmrich being alive. in saying that, considering what we have been enamored with and reminded of at every single quest of his. but in the last romance dialogue its, gone? the fear overcome? one line, one word makes a difference. idk man. like I have my full speculation that there is a sequel with rook and companins again, and if there is ill let this go. but if this is it, WITH no epilogue screen? please, as much as i like fanfiction and headcanons and art. id like it IN the game.

a fantastic romance, but a stale last conversation. IN SAYING THAT. I choose to look past it as much as possible as it is sweet and I just love him.

ANYWAY, love you all, im pen for questions and the full emmrich dissection with all my very detailed explantions is coming in a few days

♥

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

[wip!] the art & science of parenting || jay park

update: this fic's been posted!! click here to read!

a/n: hellaur everyoneeee here's a lil summary & drabble into another wip i'm working on rn,,,i had this idea in the back of my head for SO incredibly long (im talking since 2021 pls) and decided to finally go for it :') so here's a lil peek for the time being to prove i'm still alive heh. i hope you guys like this concept,,,idk why but i really envisioned jay in this trope maybe because i plan on making it very fun & lighthearted but mixed in with some serious & angsty tones...we shall seeeee....you know i love my college!aus and e2l!aus heheh anyways saur sorry im yapping now! lmk what you think & if you want to be tagged !!

genre: jay x female!reader, fluff, comedy, college!au, enemies to lovers!au, parenting!au (parenting a robot baby LMAO), sum angst maybe, both reader & jay are smartasses who don't know how to communicate and confront their feelings , also a bit of photographer!jay :')

summary: The Art & Science of Parenting 101 (PSY1009) – In this interactive course, students will explore the psychological, social, and biological foundations of parenthood. Through a mix of theory and hands-on practice, you'll master the art of raising a simulated baby—aka the 'robot child.' Late-night feedings, tantrum taming, and crisis control are all part of the deal. What you didn’t expect to be part of the deal? Getting paired with Jay Park—the last person you’d trust to raise, well, anything. You’re pretty sure he couldn’t even take care of a pet rock. Now, you’re stuck co-parenting this robot baby together for 40% of your final grade.  Warning: Sleep deprivation is guaranteed. And maybe, just maybe, some unexpected feelings for your disaster of a partner. Good luck!

longer drabble under cut! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

"Y/N and Jay."  

Wait. What?  

Your head snaps up so fast it's a miracle it didn't pop off your neck and roll away.  

You blink. You must have misheard.  

"Y/N and Jay," Professor Kim repeats as if she could read your confused expression, voice too nonchalant for the life-wrecking news she's about to deliver: "You two are partners."  

The words hit you like a bus. No, not even. The words hit you like a bus driven by a T-Rex that flips over, crashes into a building, and explodes into a million ashy pieces. And there you are—standing right in the middle of the wreckage, somehow still alive to suffer through every second of it—while Jay, smug as ever, whips around in his seat to face you.  

And of course, there it is: that look of his that screams 'This is going to be so much fun for me, and so much pain for you.' 

"Guess we're parents now, Y/N!" Jay chimes, his voice dripping with so much sarcastic enthusiasm you swear he just got handed an Oscar for Most Annoying Human. If that tone were a substance, you'd bottle it up and use it as insect repellent. On him. Repeatedly.  

You blink at him, you're sure—you're praying—this has to be some elaborate prank. Maybe Jay bribed Professor Kim with his rare attempt at turning in an assignment on time just to mess with you. Or maybe the universe just hates you and this is your karma for stealing your roommate's last ramen packet that one time a year ago.  

But no, Professor Kim keeps rattling off other pairs like it's business as usual, as if your entire academic career and sanity isn't currently being flushed down a metaphorical toilet, while you sit there, paralyzed, your brain rapidly melting into a useless puddle from the sheer thought of being paired with him.  

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jay teases as he leans over the back of his chair towards you. "You don't want to play house with me?"  

You narrow your eyes at him, mentally wielding your imaginary bug spray like it's a holy weapon. "I don’t," you reply flatly. "In fact, I’d rather perform open-heart surgery on myself with a plastic spoon than co-parent with you." 

Jay’s eyes light up as his hand goes to his heart. "Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel special. This is why I like our little relationship, you know?" 

"Relationship?" You scoff loud enough to make the people sitting three rows behind you to glance in your direction. "The only thing we have in common is a shared oxygen supply." 

"See, that’s the spirit," he says, turning back to face the front like he didn't just ruin your life. And somehow, that pisses you off even more. Is it his voice? His stupidly perfect hair? The fact that he breathes in your general direction? At this point, he could literally sneeze, and it would still feel like a personal attack.

Is it too late to switch majors? Or schools? Maybe even countries? Surely, restarting your entire college career as a super senior would be better than spending the next six weeks parenting with Jay. Jay Park, who has probably never held anything more fragile than a Red Solo Cup.  

Jay Park, who is just sitting there, all calm and collected, clearly loving every second of your misery.  

While you're frozen in pure, unadulterated horror.  

Your grade? Plummeting as we speak.  Your robot baby? Probably going to need therapy by day two.  And you?  

You're screwed. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

decided to go for a longer sneak peek than usual bc im very excited about this one heh :) i also changed up my title image formatting..trying out smth new !!!

lmk if you want to be tagged!

<3, addie

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

part 2: second day of investigation

part 1 here!

part 3 here!

in which you and the bau are handling the case of a murderer in a small, sleepy town

tw: decapitation, description of the crime scene etc, mention of a suicide attempt, mental illness

contents: spencer reid x fem!baureader, solving a criminal mystery, angst, slow burn

words: 7.3k

okay, i realize how incredibly long this is but that's just how i am, i have to stretch every scene to the limits. i'm sorry!!!" anyway, i hope you'll enjoy it <3

You were pulled out of bed at five in the morning.

 Just three hours after you’d finally managed to fall into a light, broken sleep. Maybe you hadn’t really been sleeping at all — just lying there with your eyes closed, half-aware? You weren’t sure. The exhaustion weighing on you suggested the latter. Yet you didn’t complain. As soon as you learned that another body had been found in that same cursed forest, it felt like you’d been plunged into an ice-cold bath. All that mattered now was reaching the crime scene as quickly as possible.

You and Spencer ended up in the same car with Hotch and Rossi. Although the drive took almost half an hour, it passed in the blink of an eye. None of you spoke; the tension was evident on each of your faces. You’d dressed more comfortably than the day before, opting for navy jeans and sturdier shoes better suited for walking in the forest. In the rush, you hadn’t changed out of your pajama shirt — you’d simply thrown on a black leather coat over it. You buttoned it up carefully so no one would notice the shirt featuring a duck holding a knife with the caption I have stability (ability to stab), easily the worst possible choice of clothes for examining a murder scene.

The next steps proceeded in a typical, meticulous way. Everything around was secured, and you examined the body, which was roughly in the same state of decomposition as the bodies of the city council members. The inflicted wounds also appeared to be similar. There was a missing head, but aside from that, there were relatively few injuries.

At sunrise, the whole team gathered near the cars. Derek leaned against one of them, and you all had sleepy, slightly puffy faces with dark circles under your eyes. JJ looked so good and put together that you found yourself wondering if she went to sleep fully dressed in her professional attire.

“The victim is a man with an unidentified identity, but there is a strong likelihood that this is the missing city councilman, Percy Donovan, who disappeared in the last few weeks.”  Hotch informed you all. “This trio of women, who were treated the most brutally, were the earliest victims, lying in this forest for about six weeks. The one found last night was likely killed around the same time as the other two city council members. It’s unclear why his body was left in a different location, but considering the relatively short distance, it might have been a matter of convenience for the perpetrator. He was unable to transport all three bodies at once, so he delivered the last one after some time. He discarded it closer to the road but concealed it more carefully. The time of their death is estimated to be around three weeks ago”

“Let’s analyze everything from the beginning,” Rossi suggested, raising both hands. “The unsub’s first victims were killed six weeks ago. They were three women: a teacher, a social worker, and…”

“A worker from the orphanage,” Reid recalled. 

“Then there’s a three-week gap, and three more bodies are hidden in the forest. This time, there were two men and one woman, all of whom were city council members. The only connection between all six victims is that their heads were severed. Don’t you think we might be dealing with a duo? That would explain the differences in brutality.”

“That’s one possibility,” Hotch agreed. “I asked Garcia to check for criminals or psychiatric patients who have been released recently, but she didn’t find anything noteworthy.”

The sheriff approached you, the same big man you’d seen before. Shock was written on his face; as a cop in such a small town, he likely rarely dealt with cases like this.

“I knew Percy,” he shared immediately. “I knew him very well. We sometimes went out to the bar together to play pool. He had some problems in his marriage; they often argued. When he disappeared, I thought he had just left because he needed some space…”

“We’re very sorry,” JJ said gently. “Yesterday, you mentioned that you know a lot about the people in this town. Could you provide us with more information about the victims? We’re trying to find any connections, if there are any.”

Before they stepped aside to discuss this, Reid raised a finger.

“Sheriff, do you think the offender had to know this forest well to choose to hide the bodies here? In these specific locations?”

Russell pondered the question.

“I don’t think so. In my opinion, it could have been anyone, and they didn’t necessarily have to be from here. I doubt he comes from this town; as I said, it’s mostly decent people.”

JJ led him a few steps away to begin their discussion. You and the rest of the team fell silent for a moment.

“One thing worries me,” Morgan said, furrowing his brow. “Okay, a lot of things worry me, but this one particularly. If there was roughly a three-week gap between the murders of these two groups of people, and the last bodies were found just three weeks ago…”

“That means the unsub could strike again at any moment,” you finished his thought, nervously clenching your hands into fists.

Everyone turned to look at you; you had just voiced a shared concern. Hotch stared into space for a moment, then nodded to himself as if coming to a decision. He spoke in his usual commanding tone.

“We need to take action. Morgan and Prentiss, you’ll meet with the families of the first three victims, the women, I mean. Rossi, you and JJ will go to the families of the other victims. Your job is to find out if there’s anything that could connect them. Y/N and Reid, your task will be to go to the forester’s lodge and gather information on whether anyone has encountered any suspicious individuals in this forest. I’ll head to the city hall to talk to the mayor.”

Everyone scattered, ready to tackle their tasks. You nodded at Reid and together you headed towards one of the cars, where you hesitated.

“Do you have a map of this town, or will we need to ask the sheriff where the ranger station is?” you asked, glancing back at the man still talking to JJ.

“I left it at the hotel, but it just so happens that I memorized the whole thing, so I know where we need to go. It’s not far at all.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“You memorized the entire map?”

“I always do that when we’re working a case in an unfamiliar place,” he explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Memorizing an entire map, with all the roads and landmarks. Just an everyday activity.

You snorted and got into the car, an unmarked police vehicle, on the passenger side.

“We'll have to stop at a gas station,” you said, fastening your seatbelt.

“Why? The tank’s almost full.”

“Coffee.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. You glanced at his profile as he, focused on driving, pulled off the shoulder onto the road, choosing a direction.

“You couldn’t sleep last night, huh?” 

You shrugged. You didn’t want to get into the backstory of your sleep issues with him, so you decided on a slightly embellished answer.

“I couldn’t fall asleep for a bit; it’s usually like that in new places. But then I slept like a baby, really. At least until Hotch woke us with that call before 5 a.m.”

“No, you didn’t. I woke up a few times, and your breathing suggested you weren’t sleeping. It was too shallow and irregular. Normally, when someone’s asleep, it looks different because their breathing engages the diaphragm muscles.”

Did he really just analyze your breathing and deduce you hadn’t been sleeping? You looked out the window, momentarily at a loss for words, before deciding to turn it into a joke.

“Reid, this is the creepiest thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“Really? It’s just basic human physiology. So, back to my question, which you decided to turn into a joke to avoid answering”

“Jesus Christ, Holy Mother of God, yes, I couldn’t sleep because I forgot my sleeping pills,  and I can’t get a wink without them. What’s it to you?”

Your outburst of irritation caught him off guard. You immediately regretted your unpleasant tone; he had always been so kind to you. Reid paused for a moment, cleared his throat, and calmly returned to the topic. 

“I figured that out after you were so upset last night. When you told me you forgot something. You know, you could have just asked me or someone else on the team. It just so happens that I always have Ambien on me. I don’t need it anymore, but I carry it just in case.”

You fell silent, not knowing how to respond. You felt doubly embarrassed, especially since his initial question wasn’t even attacking! It was just that you had been so closed off, pushing that barrier further and further away whenever someone showed even a hint of concern for you.

The car glided along the empty road, one of those that seemed to stretch on forever. Like an endlessly long carpet with a white stripe down the middle, unfurling as you drove. Surrounding it was the forest—the same one where you sought refuge yesterday to avoid answering Prentiss’s question about your brother. Your reticence was becoming burdensome, but you didn’t know how to deal with it. When you opened up, you felt vulnerable, as if you were at the mercy of someone else. You also hated pity. Your mom loved it. She relished the chance to burden random people waiting at the same bus stop with tales of how her husband didn’t love her and how her kids hated her, even though none of that was true. Talking to someone about yourself made you feel just like her.

As you drifted off in thought, filled with a sense of guilt, Reid spoke up again.

“I’ve noticed recently...”

He barely began the sentence before he cut it off. He didn’t continue, as if the wind had slipped in through the slightly open window, snatched his words, and whisked them away to some unknown place, never to return.

“What have you noticed?” you asked.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” he replied, shaking his head.

“You can say it, whatever it is. I won’t be offended.”

Deep down, you were afraid his comment would hurt. Maybe he’d say, “Your inability to open up is just pathetic. And it’s not just me; the whole team thinks so. Though honestly, it’s probably better that you don’t say anything. None of us want to hear about it.” Just the thought of him saying something like that tightened your chest, and you went pale. It was a stark reminder of how much you feared what others thought of you. You knew Spencer would never say something like that—he might not always be socially adept, but cruel comments were not in his nature. What scared you more was the possibility that he could think that way about you. You were terrified that it might be true.

Meanwhile, Reid asked:

 “Do you like autumn?”

You let out a surprised laugh. “That’s what you’ve noticed lately? That I like autumn?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m asking if you like autumn.”

Your confusion left you momentarily speechless. You looked at him as if he were a math teacher back in school trying for the third time to explain what a logarithm actually was. That question distracted you from your earlier, unpleasant thoughts.

Looking at his slight smile, you answered. 

“I’m not a fan. I hate it, actually”

“Really?” 

“I don’t know why people love it so much. It’s cold, it makes our work harder. It rains, and you've seen the extent of decay those bodies had because of it. Again, it’s cold”

It seemed that your arguments didn’t resonate with Reid.

“You’re looking at it from a very practical standpoint. For our line of work, I agree, autumn can be terrible. But there’s something enchanting about it. The leaves. Reading in the evening while it’s raining outside is particularly enjoyable.”

“I personally prefer reading in the bright sun, on the beach, soaking up the rays. Without the risk of my hand falling off from the cold as soon as I pull it out from under the blanket to turn the page.”

He laughed.

“In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve learned more about you than I have in the past year,” he said. “That you have a brother, you definitely prefer summer over autumn, and you love Haruki Murakami’s books.”

“That’s all because we’re roommates now.”Wait, I’ve never told you I like Haruki Murakami!”

“I saw you reading his book yesterday. Kafka on the Shore.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like him.”

“You read more than half of that book on the flight, hardly taking your eyes off it. You only paused when your brother called you. You were completely mesmerized, so I’m guessing you must’ve liked it.”

He was right; you had been completely absorbed in that novel. So much so that you didn’t even realize he had been watching you on the plane. Seizing the opportunity, you asked him for his interpretation of a certain part of the plot that seemed unclear to you. For the rest of the flight, you listened intently as he passionately shared his thoughts, surprised that someone could talk about a book with such enthusiasm.

The smiles faded from your faces as the car suddenly jolted. Concerned, you looked around for the cause and quickly figured out what had happened. Reid had veered off the main road and onto a forest path leading to a cabin. Due to the rain, it had turned into a muddy mess, making it difficult for the car’s wheels, ill-suited for such terrain, to push through.

“How much further it is?” you asked. ““Maybe it’d be better if we walked from here. We don’t want the car to get stuck” 

Spencer agreed with your suggestion. Your shoes sank into the mud as soon as you touched the ground. The weather that day was better than before; a gray layer of clouds hung overhead, but it wasn’t raining. The air around you felt pleasantly crisp and invigorating. You took a deep breath that tasted wonderful, energizing like coffee. Your companion cursed softly under his breath as his feet began to slip on the troublesome surface as well.

“So, do you still like autumn that much?” you couldn’t help but ask teasingly.

“I love it,” he assured you, in an exaggeratedly eager tone. But after taking just one step, he nearly fell over. “God dammit…!”

You burst into loud laughter and confidently moved ahead. You’d learned your lesson from the previous day and put on more comfortable shoes, which you were very grateful for. The ones you were wearing not only repelled water but also minimized the risk of tasting the mud.

There was just a straight path leading to the cabin, and after a moment, you spotted a wooden, wide building with a sloped roof on the horizon. It looked rugged, not like one of those places city folks rented for the weekend to feel connected to nature.

As you walked, you didn’t turn back, busy looking around. Behind you, Reid was probably struggling for his life on the slippery path.

You reached the cabin first. Instead of knocking right away, you decided to wait for your companion. Just as you were about to turn around and shout some motivating phrase to him, the door swung open on its own.

You came face to face with a young man who had a military hairstyle. It was worth noting that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

He looked you up and down, nodding to himself.

“Lost, are you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Or maybe it was just your imagination, but he seemed to be trying to adopt a slightly flirtatious tone. Behind him, from inside the house, a loud barking could be heard. “Ares, quiet!”

By the time he turned back to you, Reid had already caught up and pulled his badge from his pocket.

“We’re with the FBI, and we’d like to ask a few questions.”

“Alright, so you’re definitely not lost… But hang on a sec, let me see your badge too. You’re way too young to be in the FBI,” he said, eyeing Reid as well. “You both look too young.”

“And yet,” you replied, patiently reaching for your badge.

He nodded and held the door open for you with a slight flourish. He didn’t seem the least bit fazed that the FBI had shown up on his doorstep. You wondered if he’d act differently if, instead of you two, it had been Hotch and Morgan paying him a visit.

“Take it easy,” he said, nodding to the Doberman at his side. “He’s aggressive, I won’t lie. But as long as you don’t make any sudden moves, we should be good. Ares, off you go.”

Reid glanced at you with amusement, and the corners of your mouth twitched. The ranger’s doberman was… a puppy. Tiny, tail wagging eagerly, clearly thrilled to see you both.

"Are you here alone?" you asked, looking around for any sign of others. From what you knew, there were usually a few rangers stationed together.

"Yeah, I’m the only one responsible for this whole area." he replied, folding his arms over his hips, where his loose pants hung low. He hadn’t even bothered to put on a shirt.

He had this strange ability to take up way more space than his body actually needed, standing with his legs planted wide apart. He also tried to look down on everyone around him—though it didn’t quite work, since Reid was taller than him.

"We’re here to ask you a few questions," Reid informed him once again.

"I heard you the first time"

You definitely didn’t like the tone of his voice. The unpleasantness of it made him far less attractive in your eyes. That was just how you were; you were drawn to well-mannered men who didn’t feel the need to assert their masculinity at every turn.

"This is related to a six-fold murder, so I'd advise you to tone it down a bit when talking to the FBI” 

Reid's sharper tone created an immediate tension between the two of them. The ranger tilted his head to the side, his shoulders suddenly drooping.

“Wait, sixfold?”

The information about the last body found had not yet been made public, though it was surely only a matter of time. The sheriff seemed like a complete gossip.

"It was found last night, so be aware that this case is extremely serious. We need to know if you’ve encountered anyone suspicious while patrolling this area in the past six weeks. Actually, it would be best if you could list everyone you remember."

"Actually, it might be better if you asked for my name first. It’ll come in handy for the report."

"Oh, right." His comment threw you off your rhythm. You should have done that first. He smiled at you, and you felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks. It wasn't because of his charm but rather from being caught in an unprofessional moment.

That was enough for Reid to look at you with a judging expression.

His phone suddenly rang.

“It's Hotch,” he said, furrowing his brows. He briefly touched your elbow, and his gaze softened significantly compared to how he had been speaking to the ranger. “Can you handle this? It shouldn't take long.”

You nodded, and he stepped aside to take the call. The ranger extended his hand as if he was just welcoming you to his home.

By the way, the cabin seemed quite cozy, mainly with wooden furniture, a fireplace, and a fur rug. Two sets of doors led out of the main room, one to an open kitchen and the other presumably to a bathroom or bedroom. His dog happily circled around your legs, and you bent down to gently pet him.

“Do you want to sit down, agent? I thought you came here on foot.”

“I’ll stand. The car didn’t quite handle the road. We left it nearby.”

“Yeah, that happens a lot, especially after the rain. There’s no way a typical patrol car could get through that. But anyway, I’m James Rivas. What did you want to ask me? Who caught my attention over the past six weeks?”

He sighed, thinking.

“That’s a really tough question, considering I often forget and feed the dog twice in the same morning. But I do remember a few people. First of all, there was a certain couple…”

“A couple? Two men? Or maybe a woman and a man? Did they seem nervous when they saw you?”

“A couple, as in a guy and a girl. Now that I think about it, she looked about twelve, probably his daughter.”

Your enthusiasm waned a bit. One of your theories was that the murders were committed by a duo, but the people he described didn’t sound like the perpetrators of such acts at all. He mentioned a few more people, mostly dog walkers, who caught his attention for trivial reasons like a flashy scarf or a pretty face (when he spoke about a woman). Even though the information didn’t seem particularly useful at first glance, you wrote it down in the small notebook you had brought with you.

Who knows, it might come in handy?

Reid returned with a serious expression on his face. You immediately straightened up, fearing what he might say.

“Another body has been found.”

“What?” you nearly shouted. The ranger also tensed up, abandoning his relaxed, flirtatious attitude. “Seventh? Where?”

“At a pumpkin farm. Apparently, some teenagers stumbled upon it; there were a lot of people at the scene, and a little panic broke out. Hotch wants us all there. Have you finished?” He glanced at you and James.

You raised your notepad and nodded. The skin on your hands paled from how tightly you were gripping the item.

Together, you started toward the door. You wanted to turn to the ranger and thank him for his help, as it hadn't been as difficult to cooperate with him as you might have thought. At that moment, he stopped you from leaving with a hand gesture.

"To the pumpkin farm? You'll get there faster through the woods than on the main road, but your car won't make it there. I'll give you a ride in my SUV."

You looked questioningly at Reid. You were both eager to get to the scene of the body as quickly as possible. The offer sounded tempting, but not entirely safe. He immediately shook his head in refusal.

"We'll manage," he said to James.

"Seriously, come on," the man insisted.

Reid opened his mouth to refuse again when James suddenly stepped closer to you, reaching for something in his pants pocket. You took a step back, having learned from experience, while your friend moved one step forward in a defensive gesture.

However, the ranger had no bad intentions — it turned out he was going to hand you the car keys.

"You can drive," he said. He closed the keys in your fingers as if offering you some precious item, grabbing you with both hands in the process. You were in too much of a hurry to flinch. You nodded gratefully. He smiled. "Actually, you have to, I just drank a beer. Plus, I’m coming with you; someone has to navigate, and who better to do it than me?”

You agreed, and Reid sighed, clearly unhappy with how things were turning out. James hurriedly grabbed a shirt and led you behind the house, where his black Jeep Wrangler was parked.

Following his lead, you settled into the driver's seat, though it stressed you out a bit. Since getting your driver's license, you hadn't had many opportunities to drive; you preferred the subway or, lately, relying on Prentiss's kindness.

“Don’t worry,” the ranger laughed as you hesitantly set off in the direction he indicated. “Now…”

“Turn left,” they both said at the same time.

James looked surprised at Reid, who was sitting right behind you in the back seat.

“How do you know that?”

“I memorized the entire map of this town and the surrounding area,” Reid replied with a shrug.

“You did…what?”

You and Reid smiled at each other in the front mirror.

The mentioned farm resembled a place straight out of an autumn photoshoot, where a pregnant woman embraces her partner against a backdrop of pumpkins arranged on hay bales or something like that. People came to this place from bigger cities, buying overpriced tickets and spending the whole afternoon strolling among rural decorations and props, soaking in the small-town atmosphere. From what you learned from the forest ranger, they also had horses there.

You got out of the car as soon as you spotted Hotch standing by a table made of red planks. There was no sign of anyone else from your team around, so you assumed that thanks to the shortcut, you had arrived there first. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of the sheriff’s car, several patrol cars, and a group of shaken people who must have made that traumatic discovery.

Among them was a certain teenage girl. You looked at her with pity; she would likely remember this for the rest of her life. The forest ranger walked off to speak with the sheriff, while you and Reid headed toward your boss.

“Good thing you got here so quickly,” he said, eyeing the black jeep warily. However, he didn’t ask any questions, likely too absorbed in the case to think about it. “They were found… just see for yourselves.”

You exchanged a worried glance with Spencer. Hearing such words, you could expect the worst. You held your breath and allowed yourself to be led to two pumpkins placed in a secluded spot next to the barn. All the others you passed were huge, perfectly shaped, and brightly colored. But in these two specific ones, holes had been made, as if someone wanted to place a lantern inside. Instead of candles, however, there were… human heads inside.

“Oh my God…” you whispered, taking a step back. You bumped into Reid, and dazed, you mumbled some apologies. However, your gaze remained fixed on Hotch. “Did… did this young girl find this?

He nodded. It was only after a moment that you felt a hand gently placed on your shoulder. You looked up to see Spencer’s face.

“Were the other parts of their bodies found?”

“Only the heads,” your boss replied in an unreadable tone. “Y/n, I’d like you to talk to this girl Not interrogate her, just talk.”

Despite being shaken, you nodded eagerly. You had always considered yourself one of the more sensitive ones in this field, better suited for making deep psychological analyses based on the childhood or life experiences of an unsub rather than the crime itself. Still, you had no choice but to deal with such sights daily; you had toughened up a bit, which couldn’t be said for this girl. You shook off the tension in your body, put on a composed expression, and made your way toward her. The people surrounding them, including the farm workers, stepped aside to let you pass.

“Hey,” you said as gently as you could. She was a blonde girl with such delicate beauty that she reminded you of a snowflake. Her bright eyelashes framed her cool-colored eyes, her pale complexion was almost flawless, and her light hair was braided. She looked to be about sixteen, wearing a white jacket and a powder-blue beret. “I’m Y/n. Can we step aside for a moment? We can sit down and wait for your parents to arrive…”

“I am her parent,” the sheriff replied, pointing to himself with his thumb, as if he thought you might have trouble understanding. It surprised you slightly. They looked completely different; he was huge with dark hair, while she was also very tall but petit. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that JJ and Rossi had already arrived at the scene.

“Well, I still think your daughter should sit down for a moment. She’s very pale and has been through a huge shock. What’s your name?” you asked her.

Her lower lip trembled, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Charlotte," her father replied. "I need to talk to her myself first. What are you doing here at this hour? It’s barely noon, you should be in school. Skipping classes?!"

"What does that matter right now?" you snapped at him, angry at his lack of empathy towards his own daughter. Charlotte gave you a grateful look. You looked your boss in the eyes. "Now we’re both leaving, and you can think about whether that’s the right tone to use with someone who’s seen something like that..."

True to your words, you led her aside, wrapping your arm around her. You managed to find a secluded spot and sat down on one of the hay bales.

"My dad is pretty strict," the girl explained. "He cares more about my school than about me."

"My dad was exactly the same," you said, though it wasn’t true. Your father didn’t care about you or your education. He didn’t care about anything except work. You lied to make the girl feel like you understood her situation. “But school is the last thing you should be worrying about right now. How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. She had been sitting for about five minutes, and the color was slowly returning to her face.

“I’m… in shock. When I close my eyes, I see it right away, and… and I’m even afraid to blink. How can someone do something like that to another person?”

"I keep asking myself that question," you admitted.

"You're with the FBI, right?"

You nodded. Charlotte fell silent, staring at her hands.

"My dad’s right, I should be in school right now. I came here because I paint. I’m currently working on autumn-themed paintings for a school competition; I needed some inspiration..." The girl sobbed, the horrible sight must have flashed before her eyes.

You put your arm around her, and to distract her from it all, you asked about her passion, painting. She spoke to you in a quiet tone, telling you that she took up art after her mother’s death.

“After that, Dad shut himself off. He’s obsessed with rules, grades, my behavior, school attendance,” she scoffed, playing with her braid. “But he doesn’t even try to understand me, ever. The only person who understands me is…”

She trailed off, looking nervous.

“Someone special?” you suggested with a smile.

She shyly lifted the corners of her mouth.

“You could say that. Just don’t mention it to my dad…”

You made a key-turning gesture near your lips.

“Your secret is safe with me. Well, as long as you tell me a little about this Romeo of yours…”

The topic clearly cheered her up; she seemed less shaken.

“There’s not much to say. Dad would hate him. He’s his complete opposite.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, he is very different about the rules…”

This worried you. She seemed like such a polite, well-behaved girl, and you hoped she hadn’t fallen into the wrong crowd. You didn’t want to judge based on such limited information, but your intuition was speaking up again…

You were interrupted by Morgan’s arrival, calling you over for the team meeting. You said goodbye to Charlotte.

“If you need to talk about all this, I’ll be in town for the next few days,” you said, gently patting her shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, you reached into your coat pocket for a notepad and quickly jotted down your phone number. You folded the note in half and offered it to the girl. You felt you had to show her some support, something she wouldn’t find from her parents. 

 Charlotte smiled at you with genuine gratitude — she seemed really nice, and you regretted that she had to see something like that. 

Arriving at the meeting point, you experienced a sudden shift in atmosphere, from light to serious and tense. You stood between Reid and Prentiss, waiting for what Hotch had to say.

Spencer glanced at you briefly, his eyes gentle, silently asking if everything was okay. You confirmed without words as well. This silent conversation felt almost amusing; without speaking, you both knew exactly what the other intended to say.

Emily's thin eyebrow shot up, but before she could say anything, Hotch spoke up.

“Morgan and Rossi are questioning the farm owner and the workers. They seem unhappy about the police presence, especially the FBI.”

You found it doubtful that these people had anything to do with the murders. Did they really risk hiding their heads at their workplace? In a movie — maybe. In reality—certainly not. And what could their motive be?

“JJ, we’ll need to issue a statement. Journalists are starting to gather, and we don’t want them spreading any misinformation. It’s important that we don’t give our unsub any nicknames. What did you learn from the victims’ families?”

One by one, everyone gave a brief report. You listened with bated breath, hoping for some vital information, but unfortunately, none of your team had discovered anything that could move the case forward. Finally, you summarized the ranger's testimony.

Prentiss looked like she was holding back an explosion. 

“What is all this about?” she finally burst out, throwing her hands up. “Why has the killer, or killers, suddenly changed the location where they’re dumping bodies?”

“Theoretically, we don’t know if they have,” Reid said. “Only heads were found on the farm; we don’t know what happened to the rest. Searches of the forest have just begun.”

“In any case, what’s the point of this charade? Does it thrill them to think they’re inflicting lifelong trauma on some random person?”

“Hotch, what’s next?” you asked, feeling a void in your mind.

“We’ll finish questioning the owner and his workers. Garcia is checking them out now. After that, we’ll wait for the identification of the newly found victims. Without that information, we can’t move forward. “

Your least favorite part of working on a case had arrived—idleness and waiting. Usually, that was when all your adrenaline would drain away, and your suppressed needs would strike back with double force. You were hungry, tired, had a headache, and needed a second coffee. Leaning your head back, exhausted, you suddenly felt someone watching you. The ranger was staring at you, leaning against the hood of his jeep. You signaled Spencer with a nod, and together, you approached him without much enthusiasm. You needed to head back to the ranger's cabin to retrieve the car you’d left there.

“Sick, isn’t it?” James asked, nodding toward the whole farm. “I can’t wrap my head around it. We’re heading back to mine now, right?”

“Just to pick up the car. I have one last question for you.”

You looked at your friend with curiosity, noticing a strange expression on his face, as if he’d suddenly connected some dots.

“In your opinion, as a ranger, would the killer need to know this forest well to dispose of the bodies in these specific locations?”

James hesitated before answering, looking Reid directly in the eye.

“Yes. I think so. It had to be someone who spends a lot of time here. This forest is huge — an outsider wouldn’t go that deep.”

Reid studied him closely. You frowned and walked back to the car. The three of you drove to the ranger’s cabin in complete silence. Fortunately, the police car was still parked exactly where you had left it.

“Will you drive?” Spencer asked, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I need to make a call.”

“Sure,” you replied, taking the keys from him. You got behind the wheel, casting him a curious sidelong glance, intrigued by what he was up to.

“Garcia? Have you finished checking out the farm owner and employees? Okay, but when you're done, could you also check someone out for me?” Spencer pulled the phone away from his ear, looking at you with a questioning expression. “What was the ranger’s last name?”

“You’re kidding,” you snorted. “James Rivas, but…”

“James Rivas,” he relayed to Penelope, gave her a quick goodbye, and ended the call.

Meanwhile, you had already merged onto the main road.

“Reid, it’s not him.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Intuition? Shaman, remember?”

“Well, your intuition isn’t exactly a reliable measure. It’s pretty easy to influence—by, say, sympathy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Sympathy? The guy’s a jerk, even my intuition can tell.”

Your explanation didn’t seem to convince him at all. You stared at the road for a moment, tapping your nails on the steering wheel. Reid crossed his arms, avoiding looking in your direction. The ranger had clearly gotten under his skin. You hadn’t liked him either, but even so, you thought suspecting him was a waste of time. You weren’t even sure why. You were slowly beginning to form a possible image, a profile of this killer in your mind. It wasn’t worthy of being voiced ye t— too sparse and vague, even to you, with many essential pieces still missing. But it definitely didn’t fit James. Chaotic, you realized that much.

“Do you think if he were our unsub, he would have just answered your question like that? About whether the perpetrator had to know the forest? That alone made him a suspect!”

“His ego wouldn’t let him answer otherwise,” he scoffed at first, then turned serious. “Did you see his reaction when I mentioned finding the seventh body? He tensed up, like he was spooked.”

“Well, I was spooked too. We’ve got a seven-time murderer, a decapitator, on the loose.”

He sighed in resignation, seemingly deciding there was no point arguing with you about it. As you drove, you wondered if you should outright clarify that you weren’t defending James because you liked him or, heaven forbid, found him attractive. But surely Reid didn’t actually think that… right? Then again, you could never be certain what was going on in his mind. It was vast and complex, with thousands of branches reaching off in completely different directions. Impossible to decipher.

You drove in silence, sighing back and forth every so often, as if hoping that these pitiful sounds would eventually prompt the other to speak up or change the subject. At the gas station, he stepped out of the car, and you asked him to get you the largest coffee they had. When he returned, he surprised you by silently handing you a sandwich as well, reminding you just how hungry you actually were.

The rest of the day, you spent with the team back at the pumpkin farm. Garcia had uncovered a very interesting lead. Most of the workers were employed off the books, without contracts, which likely explained the farm owner’s strange behavior. He’d been afraid — rightly so — that it would come to light.

This forced you to take a closer look at the workers, considering them as potential unsubs. But somehow, none of it seemed to connect. A dead end.

J had already given a statement on TV, but word about the victims’ identities still hadn’t come through. Because of this, Hotch decided to let you head back to the hotel early, a small reward for having been dragged out of bed so early that morning.

When he said it, you and Reid exchanged a smile, forgetting your little disagreement. The topic of the ranger never came up again—after all, Penelope hadn’t found anything on him.

You returned to the hotel relatively early in the evening, though with the time of year, it was already completely dark outside. You were utterly exhausted. The fact that you were planning to collapse into bed in your jeans was probably the best proof of that. But just before you did, you remembered you hadn’t called Jeremy since the day before. You hesitated before dialing his number—being in different time zones, it was already very late for him. Then you recalled your brother’s sleep schedule. Back when you’d lived together, he’d often go to bed around the same time you were getting up.

“Have you been wearing that shirt all day?” Reid asked, amused, as you took off your long coat. He was, of course, referring to the shirt’s graphic — a duck armed with a knife.

A smile appeared on your face as you opened your mouth to respond, but then you saw something that rendered you speechless.

“Y/n?”

Exactly eight missed calls from your mother. It wasn’t that alarming — she sometimes had a flair for the dramatic and would call over something as trivial as a broken egg, even though you had made it clear that you didn’t want to maintain contact with her anymore. However, a chill ran down your spine at seeing one missed call from your father.

You stammered, “I’ll be right back,” and headed to the bathroom. Once you closed the door, you leaned against it and dialed your mother’s number. It felt like an eternity waiting for her to pick up. During that time, the gentle movement of your knees turned into a tremor so intense that you had to grasp onto something for support.

“Mom?” you asked when she picked up. “What’s—”

“Finally!” her sobbing came through the line. The sound hit you like a powerful shockwave, leaving you feeling dazed and suspended in a void. “Oh my God, why haven’t you answered your mother all day? Do you have any idea what I’m going through right now? How do I feel? I was the one who found him…

You shook your head, partly in confusion, partly in denial.

“And through all of this, no one, not even your dad had asked how you were feeling! Abandoned by two children, including you, who wouldn’t even answer her calls…”

“Mom,” you barely managed to squeeze out, feeling an unimaginable weight in your chest. “You found who? Where?”

Your mother suddenly began to berate you for the lack of contact, completely ignoring your two questions. She shifted from shattered sobs to pure rage, almost hysteria. She had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder for years, and she approached her treatment carelessly, often forgetting to take her medication. In the face of difficult situations, she reacted in an intense, complicated manner, chaotically swinging from one extreme emotion to another.

Though her broken voice indicated that she, too, needed help, you pulled the phone away from your ear. You couldn’t bear to listen to her, too frightened by the visions that assaulted you. You needed to find out what had happened, and she wasn’t able to give you that information. With a heart-wrenching pain in your chest, you hung up.

With a trembling hand, you barely managed to dial your father’s number.

part 3 coming soon!

tag list: @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @nightfullofparadox

oh and i have one question for you guys, how to connect two parts of a story with each other?? i'm new on tumblr

[viaviv124]

Guys we need to bring back Klaus x Jesper because i'm literally going insane right now

Yes this is a post convincing y'all to also fall into brianworms of this dead ship.

This movie includes spoilers for the 2019 christmas movie Klaus, so uh if you didn’t watch it yet, do that! It's good!

For the ones who did watch the movie and want a refresher or who want to be invested in the fruitcakes before watching, a small summary.

Roughly, the movie is about this spoiled brat called Jesper, who is training to be a mailman (or already is one? Idk) but barely does anything bc he's rich and spoiled rotten, so his dad sends him to a scary, far away place in the north and to go back home he needs to deliver like a million letters or sum. That's where he meets Klaus, a grumpy old man who looks like he could kill him, who ropes him into delivering toys to kids at night. Over time the two of them become close, Jesper becomes more compassionate (basically pulling a Kuzco) and Klaus gets more open and friendly. There we learn that Klaus has a fuck ton of toys in his workshop bc he and his wife wanted kids but then his wife died and he lost all joy in life, meeting Jesper and also helping other children brought him this joy back.

There's more to that movie but i'll get to my ship points now.

1. BEAR X TWINK I NEEDN'T SAY MORE. Coward twink on top of that.

2. It's fluffy as fuck. I need you to imagine the cuddles between them. Just picture them in front of a cozy fire in eachothers arms. That's the vibe. Also i need you to hear me out on my hc that Jesper sometimes braids Klaus' hair and beard with pretty ribbons. Also, hurt/comfort. A lot of it.

3. ANGST POTENTIAL OH MY GOD THE ANGST. Since Klaus is older then Jesper, Jesper will outlive him eventually. (it's hinted (or stated idk) that Klaus died at the end of the movie but lets give them a few more years) MEANING Jesper finds himself in the exact same situation he found Klaus in. Alone and grieving after having lost his big love. Will he manage to move on or be stuck in the grief? WE CAN PLAY AROUND WITH THIS.

Also on top of everything we have the spirit of the dead wife CANONICALLY DRIVING THESE TWO TOGETHER. Literally. In the movie she's represented by a gust of wind and was the one leading Klaus to Jesper, which started this entire thing in the first place. Now i need you to imagine the following. Jesper n Klaus are dating and the wife sees that Klaus is finally happy and managed to move on. So imagine one day Jesper just hears a quiet "Take care of him for me, okay?" before the spirit disappears at last, as she can also move on fully now.

(Extra to the wife thing above: y'all know the song "i'll be here"? Now apply that to Klaus and his wife and, the end part specifically, to Klaus and Jesper.)

ANYWAY THIS IS JUST A FRACTION OF MY BRAINWORMS SO PLEASE LET THIS SHIP COME BACK AGAIN

[khuzena]

Fable

Pairing: Sunday x gn!reader

cw: themes of religion, emotional turmoil, mental health struggles, sin and redemption.

Synopsis: In a world engulfed with sin, Sunday feels as if there's no difference between him and the lowly sinners he preaches to. A stark irony in his thoughts and the cross that lay heavy on his chest, a preacher of Aeon Xipe, yet a damned fool that longs for a sinner. He offers redemption as if it's cheap since it only asks faith as its payment. However, the sinner he longs for has no ounce of faith in their soul. In the end, he could only sing praises— if only attaining salvation was so easy.

A/N: GUESS WHO'S BACK (no one remembers me) but I'm here to deliver angst anyways bc fuck this shit. My writing is shitty so bear with me. :(((

“Repent, sinner.” Sunday whispered as he held your hand, “Repent.”

"Sunday— let go” you drawled, voice dripping with shame. You leaned against the wall, the smoke from your cigarette curling lazily through the dim air, mingling with the stale scent of cheap perfume and old upholstery. The brothel was alive with murmured laughter and low music, the worn-out couches and faded curtains casting long shadows in the flickering amber light. Your skin was drenched in sweat, your head riddled in shame as your clothes lay bare on the floor. You've just finished servicing a client yet Sunday's invaded unknown territory; to save you, maybe.

The priest’s eyes swept the room, narrowing as if each detail confirmed his worst suspicions. His mouth twisted in a thin line of disgust as he clutched his Bible close to his chest, as if bracing himself against the "unclean" aura around him. The expression in his eyes was soft, painful—a thousand sermons held back by a single withering look.

“Please,” he said, voice clipped. “You know this isn't the answer— it's never too late.”

“Just go,” you replied, frowning without your usual certain devil-may-care charm. You let sin consume you, as it's all you've ever known. “But you’re right, Father. It's never too late for others but I'm a lost cause.”

You trail off, the musky aroma of carnal desire in the room intoxicating his ‘pure’ soul, “You're gonna save me? With what, exactly? A sermon? A confession?”

“Redemption.” He said the word as if it could wash the room clean. “Even someone like you—someone who parades their sin as if it’s a crown—you could still be saved. Even now.”

You laughed, the sound echoing off the peeling walls, more haunting than humorous. “Saved? By what, exactly? A few Hail Marys and a scolding?” You looked him up and down, that faint amusement never leaving your eyes. “Maybe I’m not the one who needs saving. Ever thought of that?”

Sunday's face darkened, his fingers tracing the edge of his Bible like it was a weapon rather than a shield. “You speak of kindness, yet you live without a shred of humility or grace. Do you really think there’s peace in… in this?” He gestured around the room, lips curling in contempt. “All I see is emptiness masquerading as freedom.”

Your eyes narrowed, your smile fading. “Freedom?” You flicked the ash from your cigarette, watching it drift to the floor like grey snowflakes. “Tell me, Father, when was the last time you felt free?” You crawled to him as he sat on the stained sheets, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath, the faint scent of smoke and cheap perfume mixing with the cold edge of his cologne. “You clutch that Bible like it’s a cage, not a comfort. You come here, looking down on us from your self-righteous mountain, but you’re the one running. From what, exactly?”

He stiffened, the muscles in his jaw tightening as if you’d struck a nerve. “I serve the Lord,” he said, voice quivering with a mixture of conviction and something darker, something unsettled. “I bring light to places that have forgotten it. I offer hope to the lost.”

You smirked, unbothered. “Hope, is it? Funny, you seem more scared than hopeful. You think that because I don’t kneel and grovel that I must be empty, but I don’t need your god to tell me right from wrong. I may be a ‘sinner’ in your eyes, but I don’t preach peace and then threaten damnation. I help the lost here, too, in my own way—without the guilt. And without shame.”

For a moment, his composure slipped, a crack appearing in the stone-cold mask he wore. He looked at you—really looked at you—as if seeing past the lipstick and the smoke to something rawer, something he couldn’t name.

“Kindness without repentance is hollow,” he muttered, almost to himself, fingers ghosting over the cross around his neck. His eyes betray his actions, he can't admit that he loves a sinner like you.

“And blind faith without understanding is cruelty,” you shot back, your voice like a knife through the heavy air. “You think kindness is something you hand down from on high, something earned by prayers and purity. But look around, Father. These people don’t need sermons. They need food, a place to sleep—a little mercy, not lectures.”

He opened his mouth, as if to counter, but words seemed to fail him. Instead, his face twisted, half pity, half frustration. “I’ll… pray for you.”

A dry laugh escapes you, a hollow sound in the oppressive quiet. “Pray for yourself, Father. You’re the one who seems lost here.”

“I just want to save you,” He reiterates, his eyes gleaming with desperation, “Please, just repent. There's always a place for you in the church”

An airy scoff escapes your lips as you smack his hand away, “A place for me? A place for a sin laden person like me?”

A pregnant silence filled the room, he clutched the cross on his neck. There must be an answer, and if there isn't, he'll make you one. His free hand reaches into his pocket, you feel a beaded bracelet rest onto your wrist. It's heavy, so heavy.

“What are you doing to me?”

“I just want to save you,” his hands trembled in sync with the flickering candle light, “Just listen to me.”

“Stop, stop—” no matter how many times you plead him to stop acting so pathetic, he implores mercy for you. The sacred bracelet on your wrist is a testament to his love and his faith— one you could never share.

Sunday vowed himself to never step into the walls of pleasure as they're the home to lust, they're home to fools who seek salvation in sex. Yet, he's here. He's here to seek salvation for you. He brought Xipe’s presence into the home of the devil, in hopes to coerce you to the brighter side.

His presence in this brothel feels like an enigma, he doesn't belong here.

“I don't want you to rot in hell,” he trails off, kissing your knuckles, “I’ve never felt this before— Xipe owns my body, my soul.”

Why does his touch feel so addicting compared to the touches of far fairer men than him?

His wings droop onto his shoulders, your clothes on the floor reflecting on his shiny halo but he doesn't budge. He doesn't want to leave you here, he knows your heart is kind, yet your body's defiled— he’s determined that he'll cleanse you, he'll cleanse you of this sin.

He presses his lips again to your knuckles, “Why do you have to be so difficult?” He mutters to himself as his sacred tears paint your tainted skin.

Xipe may own every fibre of his being, but you've taken his very soul, you've stolen it with every scornful laugh, every unrepentant sin. THEY have save you, THEY need to save you—

However, when he stares back into the abyss in your eyes, he knows you're long forsaken by their blessings.

When you don't recite the verses escaping his lips, he realises you're a lost cause.

Please, Xipe. Please do something about them—

If that's not enough, he's brought jar filled with ash.

“That's enough Sunday—”

“It's not.”

His words sunk low as he turned more desperate than a man faced with death. For you to die and rot in hell is death in itself.

You should run away, you should push him away.

You should throw him back to the cathedral he preaches in.

But a part of you wants saving.

A part of you long to be in the same world he is, in body and soul and in every prayer recited.

But you can’t.

With trembling hands, Sunday brought his fingers to the jar of ash he'd clutched as if it held the very essence of Xipe himself. His touch was reverent, fingers dipping into the blackened dust as he leaned forward, his face a mask of fevered determination. His breath was ragged, each exhale brushing against your skin like a ghost's touch, hovering close as he traced the symbol of harmony on your forehead.

The ash was cold and heavy against your skin, spreading like a dark stain over the sweat still clinging to you from moments before. Sunday’s fingers shook as he sketched each line, each curve, his brows furrowing as if with each stroke he could carve Xipe’s mercy into your very soul. His lips moved soundlessly, chanting prayers, pleading with his god to see you—to reach you. His eyes glistened, holding a desperation so raw it felt as though he were laying his soul bare with every brush of his fingers.

"Please," he whispered, voice breaking as he drew the final stroke, his forehead pressed against yours, the rough ash between you a stark reminder of the worlds that kept you apart. "Please, let this save you." His eyes searched yours, wild with a hope he couldn’t contain, pleading with a faith that was beginning to crumble as he realized that even this sacred act, this final attempt to offer you salvation, might still leave you beyond his reach.

You're still a sinner through and through.

Sunday’s fingers lingered, almost frozen against your skin as he stared at the dark symbol he’d left, the weight of it so heavy it felt like it would pull you both under. His breaths came uneven, shallow, as he fought against the reality sinking in—that his desperate plea might not reach you, that this sacred symbol he’d etched might be nothing more than a stain.

His hand drifted to your cheek, thumb tracing the faint smudge of ash, as though hoping to rub it deeper, to make it part of you in some way that went beyond flesh and bone. His eyes were wet, glistening with the weight of unspoken prayers, with the terror of a man standing on the brink of faith and despair.

“I love you— I want you.”

“Then want me.”

‘Want me without fear’ - what you should've said.

He shakes his head, swallowing. “I can’t. To want you… to touch you? I’d lose everything.” Each word is a knife, cutting through the heavy air between you.

“Then why are you here?” you murmur, your voice laced with disbelief, the irony palpable in the dim light. A saint in sacred clothing before a madonna whore.

“Because you’re worth saving.” His eyes are fierce, but they tremble.

You laugh bitterly. “Even if I don’t want it?”

“It’s not just for you!” His grip tightens around your hands, desperation bleeding into his voice. “I need to believe… that you can be saved, that I can—” He falters, his eyes darkening. “What if I’m here because I’m as damned as you?”

“Then maybe you should let go of salvation.”

His wings flutter as sobs wreck his soul. Why can't THEY save you too? Why does he have to live with the idea that you'll rot— that he can't do anything about it?

And as he kneels before you, his lips brushing over your knuckles in a final, desperate kiss, he prays—more for himself than for you.

"I’ve seen hell, and it’s not the one you think," you murmur, voice low, yet biting. "It’s in the way you look at me—like I’m nothing but a sin."

A flash of pain crosses his face, mingling with the flicker of understanding that never quite settles. Anxiety tightens his grip on your hand as he absorbs your words, though he’ll never truly understand them. He opens his mouth, but only silence falls—a prayer unsaid, a salvation he’s not even sure he can give.

His gaze drops, lingering on the thin sheet covering you like a veil over desecration, and he looks away, ashamed yet bound.

He leans in, lips hovering just above yours—a kiss he tells himself is selfless.

“I'll pray for you."

I'll forgive you.

Note: BYE BER MONTHS HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK— I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED PROGRESS OF MY WIP FICS AND I WAS IN TEARS AND JS CRASHED OUT. IM BACK BC GIGI PEREZ JS MADE ME WRIT EGAIAN

special mention: @whyiseveryname-taken bro I'm still ariting abt that angst jing yuan fic btw if u still remember 😈

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[pinchofhoney]

be careful what you wish for

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

warning: platonic relationship, quite angst-ish, text in italics is a flashback

summary: Turning in a district boy to the authorities felt like the right thing to do for Coriolanus. But what if, in doing so, he betrayed you as well?

a/n: absolutely no one asked for it, but i'll deliver it to you anyway<33 i'd say have fun but i'm not sure i'd be appropriate here

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @watercolorskyy

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

The moment Sejanus shared Billy Taup's escape plan with you, there wasn't much hesitation on your part. It's not that you acted without thinking; it's just that you didn't need much time to decide.

The summer was scorching, feeling like an unending oven. The sun never let up, and even when you hoped for cooler nights, the heat lingered. You've gotten used to the coal dust that's practically become your second skin in District 12, but what truly got to you wasn't the clinging dirt. It was the musty scent of men's sweat, a scent that clung to the air, heavy with the hard work that defined your daily life.

Being one of the few female Peacekeepers among a crowd of men wasn't your ideal situation. Many other girls had come and gone, unable to stand the sacrifices the job demanded, but you stood your ground, determined to prove yourself in this role, even if serving in this particular district wasn't your dream come true.

At least until a certain point.

When you first arrived in District 12, your main goal was to pass your officer's exam as quickly as possible and secure a transfer elsewhere. But when young Plinth kindled the idea of a life beyond authority and rules, the seed of belief in freedom took root within you. The very thought of it resonated in your mind, sounding truly incredible, and you couldn't wait to leave the filthy district behind, escaping through a gap in the wire mesh fence.

But, of course, life wouldn't be too easy if everything just went as planned, right?

One moment, you were getting ready with Sejanus and the other rebels, gathering the basics for your escape north to the supposedly destroyed District 13. The next, you found yourself standing behind one of the empty houses on the Seam with Coriolanus. He held onto your shoulders, telling you urgently that you had to leave the District as soon as possible.

“What?” was the first word that slipped from your lips, your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at your friend. “Isn't that exactly what we're working on?” you added, slightly amused, pushing Coriolanus' hands off your shoulders.

Shaking your head, you were about to update him on your progress when he caught your forearm again. “I think you misunderstood me, Y/N,” he said, his face dead serious. “You need to get out of here now,” he continued, and seeing your raised eyebrow, he almost gritted the last word through his teeth.

“What do you mean, Coryo?” you asked, breaking the silence after staring at him for a while, tired of him speaking in riddles.

Now Coriolanus was the one staying silent, his cool eyes fixed on you. You couldn't decipher his expressions; it felt like he was betraying a hundred feelings at once and, at the same time, nothing at all.

“I… um, there's…” the blond man started, stumbling over his words, unsure how to share the information he needed to tell you. “There's a chance that the talk Sejanus and I had, which you joined not long ago, about your escape plan, might have been fully recorded by one of the jabberjays.”

You seemed not to grasp the gravity of Coriolanus' words, so you stared at him, searching for any hint in his eyes that he might be joking.

“Okay, so what?” you eventually asked, once again furrowing your brows, this time with a bit less intensity.When a twig snapped around the building's corner, you quickly turned, thinking it might be someone eavesdropping, but finding only a small hedgehog, you shifted your attention back to the boy in the bluish uniform.

“So what?” Coriolanus repeated your question, unable to believe your difficulty in connecting the dots. “Y/N, these birds are headed to the Capitol. To the lab of the woman who’s the Head Gamemaker of the Hunger Games. And do you know what the Capitol authorities do to rebels?” he asked the question, not waiting for your response. “They hang them on the hanging tree, Y/N.”

You stared at Coriolanus, steadying yourself with a hand against the wooden building. With every word he spoke, you felt the color drain from your face.

“How… How did this happen?” you asked, trying to keep your emotions in check.

Coriolanus happily took care of the mockingjays, moving their cages, tagging them, and passing them along. As Bug left with the fiftieth cage, Sejanus burst into the room, full of excitement. He shared the good news about the upcoming package from his mother with his friends, watching Bug leave with a smile before turning to Coriolanus, who had just finished dealing with the bird marked as number 1.

The bird chirped in its cage, mimicking the last mockingbird, but once Bug was gone, Sejanus' cheerful expression faded, replaced by a troubled look. He glanced around the hangar to ensure they were alone before speaking in a quiet voice.

“Listen, we've only got a few minutes. I know you might not like what I'm about to do, but I need you to at least understand it. After what you said the other day, about us being like brothers, well, I feel I owe you an explanation. Please, just hear me out.”

This was the moment, the confession.

Now was the time for the pieces to be explained, especially about the alliance with rebels and money that he found in Sejanus' belongings. Once Coriolanus heard it, he'd be as good as one of them, a traitor to the Capitol.

Panic, running, or trying to silence Sejanus could be expected, but Coriolanus did none of these things. Instead, his hands moved instinctively. His left hand adjusted the cover of the jabberjay cage, while his right, hidden from Sejanus's view by his body, reached for a remote on the counter. Coriolanus pressed RECORD, and the jabberjay fell silent.

Turning his back to the cage, Coriolanus leaned on the table with his hands, waiting.

In the middle of Sejanus' explanation, you dashed into the hangar like a hurricane itself.

“There you are!” you exclaimed, both happy and a bit annoyed to find young Plinth. “Why didn't you wait for me? I said I wanted to go to Coryo with you,” you added, crossing your arms on your chest as you closed the gap between the boys and yourself.

It seemed that Coriolanus, noticing you in the hangar, tensed up a bit. He glanced briefly at the cage with the bird recording the conversation on the table, but neither of you or Sejanus noticed, and together, you continued explaining your plan to him.

During your report, where you and Sejanus competed over who could give Coriolanus more details, he lowered his head and rubbed his brow with his fingertips. It looked like he was trying to gather his thoughts, unsure how long he could stay silent without seeming suspicious.

But Sejanus rushed on, “I couldn't leave without telling you. You've been like a brother to me. I'll never forget what you did for me in the arena. I'll find a way to let Ma know what happened to me. And my father, too. I'll let him know the Plinth name lives on, even if it's in obscurity.”

The mention of the Plinth name was enough.

Coriolanus's left hand found the remote, and he pressed the NEUTRAL button with his thumb. The jabberjay resumed its earlier song.

Something caught Coriolanus's attention. “Here comes Bug.”

“Here comes Bug,” the bird echoed in his voice.

“Hush, you silly thing,” he scolded the bird, secretly pleased it had returned to its normal pattern. Nothing to alert both of you. He quickly covered the cage with a cloth and marked it with J1.

“I swear, I have no idea,” Coriolanus lied, wearing a worried expression. “While rearranging the cages, one of them must have snagged the remote control.”

You lightly bit your lower lip, eyeing your friend. Without any reason to doubt him, you finally let out a shaky breath.

Gazing up at the sky, you counted to three in your mind to steady your nerves. Then, you looked back at Coriolanus.

“Does Sejanus know?”

“Of course, I told him first,” he lied again, his gaze fixed beyond your shoulders without losing the concerned look on his face.

“God, what are we going to do now?” nerves took over every cell in your body as you asked another question. You leaned against the wooden building, slowly lowering yourself until you were sitting on the ground.

You lifted your head to meet Coriolanus's eyes, and he crouched in front of you, placing his hand on one of your knees.

“Hey, don't stress. You're heading back to the base now. Pack what you need, and tonight, you'll slip out of the district just like you planned with the rebels. You'll meet Sejanus at the lake, alright?” he spoke with a calmness, almost like talking to a kid, trying to reassure you.

Even though Coriolanus despised rebels — those who went against the Capitol's rules — he didn't want you to suffer the consequences that would surely befall Sejanus. He had nothing against you; in fact, he genuinely liked you. Your innocence about a better life beyond the Capitol's control wasn't his concern because you hadn't caused him any trouble, unlike young Plinth who had stirred up problems more than once.

“But won't it be suspicious if I suddenly vanish? They'll be searching for me, Coryo. They'll find me and punish me,” you said, placing your hand on his.

“I told you not to worry, remember?” Coriolanus replied, a bit sharper but still maintaining his reassuring tone. “I'll figure something out. No one's going to harm you.”

“But Coryo, you-” you began, but he quickly cut you off.

“Enough, Y/N,” Coriolanus said firmly, standing up from his crouch. “Get up. We're heading back to base,” he reached out a hand to you, which you took after a moment's hesitation. He helped you stand, silently conveying to act naturally before stepping out from behind the building.

You had no choice but to go along with Coriolanus' questionable plan, clinging to the hope that he knew what he was doing.

Little did you grasp the reality—that he was the cunning architect behind the recorded conversation. Sejanus wouldn't show up at the lake beyond District 12's boundaries. Instead, his fate would take a dark turn as he dangled lifeless from a tree in a matter of days.

[widowmaxff]

if you wanted to, could you please write an angsty oneshot of moms!wandanat and reader where they get into a a bad argument which results in reader running away to yelena’s? ending could be happy or sad- up to you overall!

proud

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader | yelena × fem!reader (all platonic)

warnings: angst, argument, crying, insecure reader (?), happy ending!, steve × reader (platonic) at some time of the one shot, bad writing

a/n: i finished this crying because a cockroach attacked me, so thats why the ending was kind of bad writing sorry :P anddd tysm for your request <333 i loved writing this

You were never sure when it started, but it was probably a long time ago. When you learned that having parents who fought the super villains in the world wasn't normal, you realized that your life wouldn't be normal either. But even though you liked seeing your mother training with her red powers or running and being able to do whatever you wanted through the great corridors of the Compound, you still missed having a 'normal' life.

Being able to go out on the street without worrying about some evil man who hates one of your mothers kidnapping you or even being able to make friends at school without them being people who just wanted to meet your uncles, were things you wanted so much to experience. But that wasn't the only thing that made you feel bad in your daily life, having mothers who were superheroes also made you barely see them in weeks.

Even though most people your age didn't want anything to do with their parents anymore, you still missed the comforting and long hugs, the nights you had a marathon of your favorite movies and even when you still had dinner together as a family. But now, either they were too busy with work, like missions and paperwork, or they just didn't want to deal with a teenager.

And even then you tried to get their attention in some way. "Mom?" You knock softly on Natasha's office door, hearing a quiet response for you to enter. "Can you help me study for my test of the next week? I really don't understand this." You chuckle seeing your mother's eyes continue on the papers on her desk.

"Can't you look up the answer on the Internet or something? I'm really busy here, Y/n/n." You knew that Natasha would dismiss you somehow, but deep down you still hoped that she would look at you.

"Yes, but- I wanted to understand how to solve it and not just research it." You whisper, watching your mother write something down in the corner of the paper.

"Wanda can help you." She says, her eyes unable to take the words from her face for even a minute.

"Okay- um, thanks anyway, Mom." You only hear a mumble under her breath, making you wonder if there was something wrong with you. You close the office door with a little less hope this time. Your other mother was always a step ahead than Natasha in terms of emotional comfort, so maybe she would help you in your task by remembering your daily difficulties with that kind of thing. "Mama?"

"Yes?" Your mother murmurs, you barely listening. Wanda was sitting on the sofa at the Compound while devouring herself with a book in her hands.

"Can you help me study for my test of the next week, please?" You sit next to her while Wanda flips through another white page of the big book.

"Now?"

"Yeah. If it's possible."

"Can I help you...tomorrow?" Wanda finally looks at you from above her book. "Today is my only day off from the week's missions and paperwork and I'm really tired right now, my love." Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap, it was obvious that deep down you knew she was going to promise you something and maybe she would deliver. But by the time the next day passed, and then the next, and then the next... and Wanda didn't talk to you about it, you knew she wasn't going to help you.

And when you felt your head hurt just looking at that big red note in the corner of your test, you knew your mothers' wouldn't react so well to it. Maybe before they started spending time apart from you, they wouldn't get mad or anything like that because of your grade, but now you were sure that wasn't what would happen.

Stirring your fork on the plate still full of food, you go over the things you would say to your mothers' about your school grade. You travel between words and don't even notice when someone enters your field of vision. "Is everything okay, Kid?" It was your Uncle Steve. He sits in front of you watching you think about what to say to him.

"Yeah, it's just...school stuff."

"Is someone picking on you?" You knew that Steve almost saw you as a daughter, and you also knew that he was aware of how your mothers would rather be busy than deal with a teenage girl going through puberty, and that maybe now is the time when you needs them the most.

"Not like before, but that's not it." You leave your fork on your plate before sighing deeply. "I just got my test and I didn't get a very good grade," Murmuring you hold back the tears that sting your eyes. "now I don't know how I'm going to tell my mothers this."

Steve sighs. "I'm sure they won't fight with you, Y/n/n. Your mothers' will understand what happened and a grade doesn't define who you are, okay?" Your uncle didn't have much certainty in his voice but you tried to believe him anyway. You nod and put a small smile on your face, as a gesture of thanks.

Steve ruffles your hair, getting up from the chair when he hears the loud and unmistakable footsteps of your mothers' approaching you. He sends you a smile to try to reassure you that everything will work out, and with each step closer to you, your heart starts to accelerate. Your mothers' had a neutral expression, even if Natasha seemed angrier. "Aren't you going to eat?" Wanda asks, walking past you and heading towards one of the closets.

Completely ignoring the question, you take a deep breath and swallow hard. "I received the grade for that test in which I asked you to help me study." You mutter as you saw your mothers still facing away from you. "I got a D." Your voice was low, but even so, the two stopped what they were doing and looked into the depths of your soul.

"You got what?" Natasha seemed to finally understand that you were there. Her arms crossed as she walked towards you.

"I-I asked for help and-"

"Now you're trying to get out of this by blaming us for not helping you?" Wanda cuts you off making your eyes focus on her.

"I'm just saying- I tried, okay?!" It could be said that you got anger issues from your mom genes, or that you were just overwhelmed and your patience was running out. And when your tone of voice increased, you knew Natasha's anger would increase as well.

"Hey, don't talk to your mother like that!" Natasha slams her fist on the table in front of you, making you almost jump out of your seat.

"Well, you shouldn't be talking to me like that either." You didn't know where so much courage came from to fight back against your mother, but when you realized it, the damage had already begun.

"I'm your fucking mother, I talk to you however I want!" Natasha had never made you feel as scared as you did now, but it seemed like now that the words started to come out, they wouldn't stop.

"Ah, you haven't even been acting like a mother these past few months. Hypocrisy, huh?" When you finished speaking, you saw Wanda's eyes want to turn red like her hair. She approached the two of you quickly with the angriest expression you had ever seen.

"What's your problem, Y/n?!"

"My problem?" You get up from the chair and cross your arms, anyone who saw you in that position would notice the similarities in anger between you and Natasha. "You tell me! I'm not the person who would rather spend time anywhere else than with her own daughter. I'm not the one who forgets that she still has a daughter to raise!"

You screamed so loud that you were sure the entire Compound could hear that argument and that they could probably feel the tension in that environment from afar. If you were in a cartoon, you could see smoke coming out of Natasha's head and definitely Wanda's eyes catching fire. "You're being so selfish right now, Y/n." 

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are! Just because your mother and I work all day to give you a better life, you think that we don't pay attention to you?" You had never seen Wanda like that, screaming and looking like she could kill anyone who came in front of her.

"Ah, yeah. Because last week when you weren't working you preferred to spend the whole day with Peter than with me just because he got a good grade!"

"Yes, because he always made us so proud by passing all the tests he had, unlike you!" Natasha spits the words out of her mouth without even thinking about what she was saying. And when they passed your ears you could feel your heart breaking.

Hearing that your mothers were more proud of a teenager who worked with them than they were of you made you feel like a gunshot was slowly passing through your chest. Natasha and Wanda knew how insecure you felt in your daily life, mainly due to academic validation, and now it seemed like all those days they had to spend helping you feel better about yourself were going down the drain.

Natasha sighs deeply when she sees your eyes widen, holding back tears that would fall at any moment. Wanda didn't seem any different when she heard the same words coming out of her wife's mouth. She never imagined that an argument of that size would ever happen between you, and Wanda could have sworn that she felt her heart stop beating out of disgust at the thought of how bad you must be feeling right now. "Y/n, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay." You murmur, uncrossing your arms. Two tears fall from your eyes and you make sure to wipe them away quickly. Your eyes were anywhere but on your mothers, because you felt so disgusting knowing that they were more proud of Peter than they were of you, that you couldn't even look at them.

Neither Wanda nor Natasha say anything when you turn and start walking out of the kitchen. You seemed to be walking automatically, your eyes blurry and your mind foggy, just going through your mother's words, over and over. But when you realize it, you're already outside the Compound, a few blocks away. You remember only one person who could help you outside of that place, and who wouldn't mind if you showed up suddenly.

And that's how you found yourself in front of Yelena's apartment, your aunt. She had found a place to live close to Natasha's house when she reconnected with her years ago, and especially when she discovered that she had a daughter, you. "Y/n?" Yelena seemed confused to see you there, with your face soaked and red, looking like an abandoned puppy. "Hey, what's wrong?" She didn't take long to have you in her arms.

"M-Mom and Mama h-hate me." You finally managed to murmur after some time sitting on the sofa in the apartment with Yelena stroking your hair and saying affectionate words. 

Anyone who saw her doing this wouldn't believe it. Yelena wasn't the type of person for physical touches and especially sweet words, but when the subject was you, she became another person. "Why do you say that? They love you more than anything, Y/n/n."

"No, they don't."

Yelena had never seen you like this, not when you cried for days when you saw your favorite character dying, not when your mothers had to leave for a long mission. It was strange to see you crying almost as if there was no air in your lungs, your aunt wondered what happened to make it look like you had a bullet in your body and you were begging her to take it out. So, when you fell asleep crying on the couch, Yelena didn't wait a minute to call Natasha and insult her in every way possible. "What the fuck did you do?"

"What?"

"Y/n showed up at my door, I've never seen her crying as much as she does now." Yelena looks at you from the apartment's kitchen, you were curled up on the sofa with a blanket covering your body.

"Are you with her? Wanda and I were looking for her throughout the entire Compound." Natasha seemed to be relieved on the other end of the call, but even so her voice still sounded apprehensive about what had happened. "We're going to your apartment, I'll answer your question when we get there."

"You better!"

[...]

"She's sleeping on the couch." Yelena says when she sees Wanda and Natasha's eyes follow behind her, trying to find you. Yelena noticed Wanda's red eyes, not as if she wanted to cast circles of magic through her hands, but as if she had cried before arriving at the apartment. Your aunt knew that Wanda was sensitive, especially when it came to the topic of you and that you probably inherited that from her too, but for you two to cry so much like that, something really happened. 

"Tell me what happened before you look at my niece again." Yelena has always been very protective of you, for example the time two girls made you the target of jokes in your school, and your aunt didn't wait a second to go to each of their houses and have a word with them. 

"I better show you." Wanda says getting closer to Yelena, moving her fingers that came out red magic towards her mind - Steve messing up your hair, Wanda opening cabinets, red grade, Natasha screaming, you screaming, not being a mother, Wanda screaming, Peter being mentioned, not proud, disgusting feeling, you crying, you leaving the kitchen.

"Jesus." Yelena sighs deeply, running her hands over her face. "I really don't know how you're going to fix this, but I'll warn you: the hole is deeper than it looks."

"What- what do you mean by that?"

"Look, I'm sure you didn't want this to turn into a big snowball, but Y/n been feeling neglected for so long that after today it might take a while for things to get back to normal." Yelena says leaning on the front door frame.

"We didn't-"

"Yes, you did this to her. Today wasn't the first time she's shown up at my door in the last few months, but she's worse than the other times." Yelena crosses her arms and closes her eyes trying to calm down. "I had to listen to her talk about how you hardly talk to her on a daily basis, how you forgot to go to her presentation at school and didn't even apologize, how there were days when you forgot to pick her up and she had to walk in the rain to my apartment because it was closer, how she cried because you never had movie nights again because apparently now you have movie nights with Peter." Yelena's voice got louder with each thing she remembered you saying to her, and there were countless things. "I don't want to hear what you have to say, I want you to talk to her, apologize."

Natasha was so embarrassed to hear all those things from Yelena that she preferred to remain silent. Wanda had started to cry again, but it was silently, digesting all those things they did and didn't do to you. She had always dreamed of being a mother and now that she wasn't acting like one made her want to vomit over her own actions.

"Can we see her?" It was a stupid question coming from them, since they were your mothers and have the right to see you whenever they want. But they knew that everything was messy and bad for you because of them, so the least they had to do was respect your space.

Yelena just nods and gives Wanda and Natasha space to enter the apartment, taking light steps towards you. They bend down in front of you and see your swollen eyes and your red face with dried tears. Your mothers could cry just to see you in this state. Wanda starts to caress your face trying to make you wake up calmly, it was something she used to do when she went to your room in the morning every day to wake you up. And when you felt that you quickly knew who it was. "Mama?"

"Shh, yes it's me, my love." Wanda says with a small smile on her face when she hears your voice. You seemed lost for a few seconds but when you looked around the apartment you quickly remembered, throwing off the blanket and quickly sitting down on the couch. "Hey, it's okay."

"What are you two doing here?" You murmur, looking at your mothers' faces, who seemed sorry for everything that happened.

"We... came to talk and apologize, is that okay for you?" Natasha says, you could see in her face that she felt just as guilty as Wanda, because most of those horrible words were said by her. "Yeah, I guess." Wanda sighed in relief at your answer and felt some of the weight leave her body.

"I know that just apologies won't be enough to make you want to be around us for now, but your mother and I are completely sorry, my love. We were so stupid about leaving you aside these last few months, we didn't even realize what we were doing to you and it's really fucked up." The swear word made you laugh briefly, putting a smile on your mothers face. "And maybe you don't want to forgive us and that's definitely okay, but know that we're going to do everything we can to get things back on track, okay?"

Natasha agrees with Wanda's words and takes a deep breath before starting to speak. "We love you very, very much, sweetheart. And you are our greatest pride in our entire lives. I know you may not believe this, but you can be sure that me, your mother, your aunt and all your other uncles feel most proud of you, okay? You're our little star and our little agent." 

A genuine smile appears on your face when you hear the sweet words that came out of your mothers' mouths. "First, you guys are literally the only people I want by my side and that's the only thing I've wanted these last few months. And I'm really grateful that you guys are sorry about that, even though it's probably going to be hard for things to go back to normal." They nod their heads when they hear your words in your low voice. "And I... forgive you. Not completely but until I can feel good again, but I think hearing you say sorry is a start."

"Okay, yes, that's okay." Wanda leaves a kiss on your forehead and strokes your hair affectionately. "We love you so much, dear."

"Love you too." You say, hugging the two women in front of you, finally feeling maternal affection after feeling neglected for so long and wondering what you had done wrong. Even though it took a while to get used to it all again, you were definitely happier than ever just hearing the words that they were proud of you. "Now I finally don't need to come to talk to Auntie Yelena anymore."

"Hey! I heard that!" Yelena shouts from another room in the apartment making the three of you laugh. You loved making fun of her, but even so, you will always be thankful for all the things she did for you. "Wow you're so ungrateful, Mini Romanoff."

[uncouth-the-fifth]

good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

[feistypazzi]

FAMILY OF OURS

ONE SHOT FIC (EDITED)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Disclaimer: This story never happened in real life situation just pure fiction. (Excuse the grammatical errors/Not proof read)

TW(?): Slight angst, Fluff, sexual content

Summary: Paige suggest to her wife to have a day for herself leaving the twin under her control and when Azzi returned home she saw the chaos that happened while she's out.

Paige offered to her wife a day for herself because ever since she retired from WNBA all she done is taking care of her until the father God in heaven blessed them with a two precious angels, their twin. After the day she gave birth to the twins their lives change forever, parenthood is hard as they expected, especially for azzi because she experience a postpartum after she delivered their little angels. Everyday is a challenge for both mothers yet they handling it so with the help of they mom's as well

How hilarious the look on Paige face was when Azzi is about to gave birth. She's the one who is nervous and anxious, walking back and forth in front of her wife who is currently in labour, as if she is the one who will delivered the baby. Meanwhile her wife, Azzi is just lying down on a hospital bed calm and relax.

"Babe calm down, Can you just relax yourself here next to me. You're making me feel dizzy" she command, Paige followed her and sit next to her, then she caressing her baby bump.

"Twins don't give mommy a hard time to deliver the both of you, okay?" She softly said directly to azzi's belly.

"I'm sure you'll be a good parent P" Azzi spoke, as she let out a sweet smile. Her wife looked up to her meeting her gaze.

"We hun, we'll be a great parents" she pressed a warm kiss to azzi's forehead and hugged her gently. Suddenly, Azzi feel a baby's kick.

"Ohh goshh, ohh" she whines, stroking her belly. Her eyes squeeze close and inhaling exhaling.

"Are they kickin'?" she asked with delight, placing her hand on the top of her wife's belly to feel the kicks. "Oh, You both excited to meet momma and mommy aren't you?" and the baby kicks again, the wifes let out a joyful giggles after.

Not long enough, Azzi successfully delivered two healthy bouncing babies, a boy and a girl. Paige can't hold her tears while in a delivery room when the nurse handed the first born to her, a baby girl.

"You look exactly just like mommy" she mumble, tears stream down to her cheeks. Then the second baby came, a baby boy. Paige showed their first born to her wife and place it next to her as the nurse handed the second born to her. "You look exactly just like momma" her heart is fulfilled with overjoyed. Azzi can't hold her tears as well once she heard the little cries from their twin. She couldn't believe that she just gave birth to a twin but she did anyways. She can't explain how her heart is about to explode with joy. "You did so great baby" Paige place a kiss on azzi's forehead after the delivery.

4 YEARS LATER~

Years already passed but for Paige and Azzi it feels like yesterday, they become a great parents showering the twins with love and patience. All the sleepless night and restless day taking care of the twin was worth it for them because seeing them happy makes them happy.

When Paige came home from basketball practice once she stepped in to their house, the twin will ran to onto her together with warm hugs and kisses, the tiredness she feel would magically disappear and when the twin stressing Azzi out yet they're the one who'll eliminate her stress as well, just hug and kisses it will disappear instantly. The wifes couldn't ask for more, they're contended on what they have and they're forever grateful for that.

Azzi leave the house with her wife's under control, the twin wants to come with their mommy but Paige persuade them not to, she promised them that she'll make pancakes for their breakfast, of course as a children who has still gullible mind they're convinced without any second thoughts.

"I'll take care here babe, don't worry" she spoke her hand wrapped around her wife's waist as she guide her to their door step.

"You sure?" Azzi ask facing her wife still unsure about the idea.

"For sure baby, Don't you trust me?" she asks pouting half joking.

Azzi let out a sigh, "Of course I trust you baby, but-" Paige cuts her off immediately. "And that's enough" her lips let out a silly smile. "I'm strong see" she move her the sleeve of her shirt and flexing her biceps.

Azzi shook her head playfully, "Nothing really change huh" she mock, "Anyways fine, fine but if you and the twins need something call me okay Hun?". Paige nods as her respond then calls out for the twin.

"Si! Mi! Mommy's leaving say goodbye" the twin rushed to their mothers running almost slip on the floor. "Ohh be careful"

"Take care mommy! we love you!" Si spoke with her tiny voice.

"Yes mommy, we love you!" Mi agreed. Azzi face the twin and they hugged and kiss her goodbye that made her heart jump with delight. Their mommy placed a kiss on both twin's cheeks.

"How about the momma?" Paige spoke pointing to her lips. Azzi raised her eyebrows making a face to her wife, "We're infront of the kids" she mumble.

"Si, Mi let's see who will the first to make it in the kitchen. Extra one pancakes for the winner" Si and Mi ran into the kitchen right away, leaving their mothers. Azzi slam her palm to her face shaking her head, "I can't believe you" her wife just shrugged her shoulder.

"Can I have my kiss now?" cocky smile on her face as she grabbed her wife's waist. Azzi can feel her cheeks turn red as she placed a kiss against to her wife's lips passionately. Paige bury her face on her wife's neck after, "Take care baby, I love you" she whispered.

She wrapped her arm around to Paige neck, "I love you most and the twin" and step back proceeding to their family car leaving her wife waving goodbye. And that's when the chaos started. At the time Azzi is totally gone Mi is running to her momma dragging her to the kitchen.

"Mommaaa!!" he yell with his tiny tinny voice. Paige just follow her son until he stopped on the kitchen. Her eyes widen seeing her Si playing with a flour while she's standing on the top of counter.

"Holy-" she cuts off her own words because it's not for the twin to hear. Si showed what she have done, scattered flour all over the counter table, floor and her. Since the day Si and Mi learn to walk on their own, the wifes can already identify the difference between them, Si is the naughty child that inherited her momma's mannerisms and Mi is the quiet child that inherited his mommy's mannerisms. Yet they don't care if their twin has difference as they grew up, they love them so much equally.

"Mommaa look I'm gonna help you" she proudly said giggling meanwhile Mi is just quiet standing next to Paige holding her hand. Paige was not mad, she's more concern because Si might slip and fall.

"Be careful baby" She hurried and pick up Si while shook off the flour to her face before something bad happens that will cause a WAR between her and her wife.

After cleaning up all the mess, she do let the twin helped her to cook for their breakfast not minding if it will be so messy. She just make most of the time with Si and Mi, nothing can really made her heart feel so affectionate except her children and wife. The three had a good bond together the kitchen is filled with cute giggles and laughter, Paige took some pictures of them while cooking and send it to her wife as a update.

WIFE 💗♾️🤞🏼

P: Hello wifey

P: Sent an Attachment (Adorable picture of three of them)

Wife: Awww my babies all grown up 💗🥺

Wife: How adorable, I miss y'all already hun

P: We miss you too here wife but for now just enjoy the day for yourself okay? Take care, We love youu! 💗💗

Wife: Yes Hun, I love y'all most! 💗💋

Subsequently, they finished their breakfast well. Paige proceeding to wash the dishes and the twin are now playing in a living room running on circle, their momma join them after washing playing hide and seek, with their toys. Anything what the twins wants to do as long as it's not dangerous, Paige is okay with it though they are making a mess all over their house but their momma just shrugged her shoulder. "They're just kids and wanna have fun" she thought watching Si and Mi letting out a adorable giggles.

Not until Mi slip on one of his toys fall facing the floor causing a tiny scratch to his forehead, Paige heart pounds and felt like the world stopped when she heard Mi cried. She immediately pick him up and stroke his forehead.

"Baby shh don't cry" hugging Mi to her arms trying to calm him down with Si next to them, cold sweats start to stream down to her forehead, she was so worried at that point.

"It will be okay Mi" she mumble, stroking her twin's forehead gently. Paige patted her head for doing such a great job as a big sister and place a kiss on both twin's forehead gleefully.

"Pain pain away!!" Si sing-sang then pressed a kiss on Mi's forehead too. Mi finally calms down, Paige let out a sigh of relief. She laid Mi on the couch for awhile and get the first aid kit to treat her second Born's forehead. Thankfully it's nothing serious it is just a tiny scratch and put a cute baby blue bondage on his forehead then kiss it, the twin hugged their momma after tightly that almost made Paige teary eyes feeling the warmth of her children.

*****

An hours later, it's nearly 6PM the twin are already in bed asleep peacefully yet their house still messy. Paige leave the twin to their bedroom and proceeding to the living room laying down on couch as she wait for her wife to come home. Her eyes almost half asleep when she heard the doorknob click and there she is her wife who look extra glowing walking down to their living room.

Paige get up immediately and ran to her wife with open arms, "I miss you wife" as she cling her arms around her wife like there's no tomorrow and her wife do the same.

"I miss y'all as well hun" cupping her wife's pouting face then kissed her lips. Paige brush smoothly aside a strand of azzi's hair to her ear, "You look extra gorgeous baby" she mutter Azzi rolled her eyes to hide her blush but failed her wife still noticed it.

"I guess the twins will have a baby brother or sister tonight" cocky smile on her face Azzi pinched her side instantly laughing. "Shut up" in a silly tone.

The wifes time was disrupted after Azzi saw the twin walk out from their bedroom while rubbing their eyes.

"Mommy?" they spoke simultaneously in a tiny sleepy voice. Azzi rushed to them to give them a warm tight hug, "Ohh my babies I miss you two".

"We miss you too mommy" Si spoke excitedly Azzi looked at her.

"We do mommy so much" Mi added, as Azzi looked at him she noticed the bondage on her forehead she feel her nerve wrack.

"What happened to you forehead Mi?" she ask but Mi pointed to her momma who's currently standing crossed arms behind her wife, Azzi look at her wife with deadly eyes. Paige can feel her wife's mood shifted and her heart beats so really fast.

She start to explain about what happened, "U-uhm e-earlier w-when-" stuttering.

"Mi, Si, Babies can you both go back to your room for awhile because Mommy and momma will talk for minutes" the twin nods as a respond and return to their room right away.

"Paige Bueckers - Fudd!" she get up facing her wife eyes throwing dagger. "Care to explain what happened here while I'm gone?" she mutter emphatically.

Paige is sweating cold already and hands are shaking. "M-mi e-earlier a-accidentally slip on t-the floor" she respond her voice is shaky.

"Are you not looking after them?" she raised her forehead frown.

"O-of course i-i do, b-but a-accident happens a-and it's j-just an small scratch B-babe" she explained while inhaling so deeply, playing with the end of her shirt to calm herself a little.

"It's better be just a scratch Bueckers." then turned her back to Paige leaving her frightened and followed the twins to their room.

Paige let out a deep sigh, heart still pounding and tears start to build up in the corner of her eyes. She took shower first and change her clothes to sleepwear then lay down to their bed after, facing the opposite side of their bed. She's kinda upset for what happened yet she overthink that maybe it is really her fault, she feel her heart ache a little, and tear dropped to her pillow.

Azzi enter to their room slowly not making any noise, she do the same thing as her wife does before she crawled next to her wife. She heard her wife sobs silently, "Baby I am so sorry if I got mad at you" she whispered apologetically and slip her arm to Paige side. "I-it's o-okay, it's my fault anyways I didn't look after them well" she murmur loud enough for her wife to hear.

"Baby can you look at me please, hm?" she pleaded softly, Paige wiped her tears before facing her wife but she bury her face against azzi's neck to avoid her gaze. "Wife, hyss, Look I'm sorry for how I reacted, I knew already what really happened and I knew as well that you did a really great job today taking care of the twin, I'm so proud of you"

Paige looked up at her wife. "And how'd you know?" she asked. "The twin told me" she replied a genuine smile on her face, "They told me everything, how the three of you made pancakes, play, and how you take care to the both of them" stroking her wife's Blondie hair, "Especially Mi, he told me how you rushed to pick her up when he slipped on the floor and treat him right away" she added wiping Paige's tears.

"They do?" Azzi nodded as a respond. Paige curled up to her wife tightly bury her face again to her neck and Azzi do the same and placing a kiss on her upset wife's head.

"You forgive me baby?" she spoke in a calm tone.

"No" she mouthed, "Unless-" Azzi cuts her off immediately because her wife's mood shifted and there's now a cocky smile on her face azzi knew already what is the next word that will came out to her wife's lips, "The kids will hear us" she make a face but Paige didn't give a budge and attack her wife with hungry kisses then topped her, azzi's body made a reaction feeling her wife's warm kisses trailing down to her neck and let out a silent moan Paige shushed her right away. "Shush they will hear us" and continue what she's doing down to her azzi's chest leaving marks on her way.

Azzi throw her head on the sheet and pushing her wife deeper. "P-paige p-please i-i can't wait more any l-longer-" she breathlessly moan silently making Paige smirk, blondie helped her to take her shirt off for more skin access as she inhaling azzi's scent. "Whatever you want sweetheart" then slip her hand and insert her two finger deeply to her wife's wet core. Pulling in and out faster and deeper making Azzi moan louder but she she cover her mouth to prevent the noise coming from her wife.

Meanwhile Paige is getting deeper and deeper her wife felt her stomach curling, "P-p i-i'm a-about to cum baby" she's almost out of breath, "Just cum baby, you're doing good, yeah" as she goes faster. Azzi grips to Paige's head tighten sign that she cum already, gasping for air. Paige pull out her hand out of her wife bottom sleep wear and place a gentle kiss on her lips.

They both end up with each other arm after the passionate time, breathlessly, Paige stroking her wife's hair, "You're forgiven baby" she teased. Azzi rolled her eyes half joking, "Shut up".

"I love you more wife" grinning and proud for what she just had done to her wife.

"I love you most" as they shared a warm genuine kiss again before falling deeply to each other's embrace.

_________________________________________

Ps: A fluff pazzi fic for y'all before I drop the updated version of the series fic stay tuned! Thankyou for reading babes appreciate y'all and feel free for request/feedbacks! Lovelotsss! 💗💗💗

(Special crdt for the twin's name Sierra and Miles to that one pazzi fic writer, please tagged her iyk her 💗)

[joongieology]

2U | Jeong Yunho

Pairing: Jeong Yunho X Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: University AU(?), cussing, mention of violence, possessive!Yunho, obsessive tendencies (please let me know if I missed something!)

Sypnosis: You're sure that your best friend has always been kind and friendly with everyone, so when you found out otherwise, you did not want to believe it, or maybe you're in denial.

Song Recommendation: 2U by Justin Bieber

Note: I've been working on this for a while. The idea behind this story is so good but I'm not sure if I delivered it properly >_< Anyways, happy reading!!

¡Disclaimer: The following content is a work of fiction and does NOT represent the written member in any way!

You've known Yunho since, like, forever. You can't even remember how you first met him, just that you've known him since you were in grade school. Wherever you are, he'd be there too. You two were inseparable. So when you got accepted to the university you've always dreamt of attending, and he didn't, he was beyond devastated.

You were sitting side by side on the couch of your apartment when you checked the results. You squealed in happiness seeing that you got accepted. You immediately looked over Yunho with a big smile, but it slowly disappeared when you saw his expression. He was just sitting there silently, disappointment evident in his eyes, with a hint of...anger? But his expression changed right away when he heard your voice.

"Yuyu?" You called out to him slowly, gently tapping him on the shoulder. He always loves it when you call him by the nickname you made for him; it sounds almost angelic when it comes from your lips. It's as if he is an angel himself, or so you thought. He looked over to you and gave you a tight smile.

"I didn't get in. I got waitlisted." He almost couldn't get the words out; it felt like something was blocking his throat. Just thinking about you being away from him and being surrounded by other people, especially men, made him want to pull his hair out.

You hugged him from the side, slowly caressing his arm, trying to comfort him.

"That's alright; we can still meet from time to time. Every day, or maybe five times a week, or on the weekends, if we're not too busy..." You tried to sound convincing, but even you were sad with the thought of being away from Yunho. You were always together that you forgot the feeling of being alone, so the idea of not having him by your side in a new school, a new environment, tormented you.

The university was far from where you currently live, so it would be quite hard to see each other much, considering you'll also have to stay at the dorm once college starts. Unless he finds another school in the same city the university is at.

You pulled away from the hug, thinking about other ways to comfort him.

"Would you like to stay over...?"

Yunho staying over is nothing new. He always sleeps over when it gets too late while you're having a movie marathon, completely forgetting about the time. He almost always sleeps on the couch, except that one time.

You were at the kitchen, getting some water because you were parched from bingeing your current favourite TV show, when someone knocked at the door. You looked at the clock; it's currently two in the morning. Who could be here at this hour? You peeked through the peephole to find no one. Okay, now, what the fu— Your line of thoughts was interrupted when you heard another pair of knocks. "Y/N." Someone from the other side of the door whispered, so low you almost didn't hear it. Yunho. You opened the door to find a nearly zombie-like looking Yunho. He was crouching down, back towards the door. He looked up at you from his position and grinned. "Hi." He said with a smile, standing, then hugging you, practically putting all his weight on you. He reeks of alcohol. "Yuyu, can you stand properly? You're so big, and you're putting all your weight on me!" You whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake your neighbours. He giggled like a kid while you're still struggling trying to hold him up. He attempted to stand properly and started walking to your bedroom, but he ended up walking in zigzag. When he finally got to your room, he removed his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving only his boxers on, then lay down on your bed. Even when drunk, he still remembered how you dislike getting on the bed with outside clothes on. You felt your cheeks flush. You shut your eyes and turned around. Inhale, exhale. This would've been nothing to you if your friendship was purely platonic, which it was until it wasn't. You honestly don't know when, but one day, you just started to look at Yunho...differently. You're suddenly aware of every little thing he did for you that you weren't aware of when you only saw him as your best friend. Like remembering the things you like, you don't like, and doing things for you—for your convenience. But of course, you wouldn't dare confess your feelings to him, fearing that it might ruin your lifelong friendship. You faced the bed, eyes still shut but peeking a little, and you walked towards Yunho and covered him with your blanket. You stared at him peacefully sleeping on your bed, in your apartment, with nothing but a pair of boxer shorts on. He looked like a prince. You went over to the other side of the bed, lifting the blanket to get under it, when your eyes caught something purple on the side of his waist. It was a bruise. What did he do? Where was he? Why does he have a bruise like this? You took note of asking him tomorrow about this and also putting a cold compress on it, then you went to bed.

After that night, you asked him about the bruise, but he just shrugged it off and told you that he just bumped into something and not to worry too much about it. You did not press further because he looked like he didn't want to talk about it at all.

"Would that be alright...?" He answered you with a question.

"Yeah, I mean, you often sleep over anyway; it's no big deal."

He showed you a smile and kissed you on the forehead, like he always does.

-~-

It was officially the first day of college, and you stood in front of the gate, mentally preparing yourself for the new environment you'll be facing. No Yunho, no nothing, just you and the infinity necklace he had given you before you moved over to the dorm—and your things of course.

While walking, you looked around, scanning the buildings, trying to look for the building name written at the schedule given to you, which was saved to your phone.

You bumped into someone looking as confused as you.

"Are you a freshman, too?" You build up the courage and start the conversation. If you want to make friends, better make one now.

"Yeah," she answered, looking awkward.

You glanced at her phone and saw the exact same schedule as yours.

"Oh! We're classmates!" Excitement was evident in your tone. At least you'll have a friend among your classmates, or so you hope.

You looked for your building together, almost getting a headache from going around the campus. When you finally found the building, you immediately went to your room, and class started.

Lunch came, and you went to the cafeteria with your newfound friend. You were peacefully munching on your lunch—thinking about what Yunho would be doing right now—when someone placed their lunch beside yours. You smelt his perfume and instantly knew.

"Hi." He was smiling yet again.

"You—why—what are you doing here??" You don't know what to ask first. You were just genuinely happy he was here. Even when other students that were sitting near your table started to scatter away while murmuring something among themselves, you still didn't care.

You hugged Yunho around his neck.

"I go here now."

"What—how??"

"Long story. Don't worry about it. What's important is I'm here now, right?" He uncapped a drink—your favourite drink—and placed it in your hands.

You nodded, sipping on the drink. You glanced over at your friend sitting beside you, her face pale with shock written all over it, while staring at Yunho.

"What's wrong?" You asked, concerned.

"N-nothing." She gave you a tight smile and went back to eating.

Odd. You gazed at Yunho, and he just gave you a shrug with that infamous smile of his, urging you to finish eating.

The next few days went by. You were thrilled to have Yunho at the same school. You always hung out together, sometimes bringing your friend along with you. Yunho didn't seem to mind, saying, 'As long as you're happy.'.

College was actually tolerable, better than you imagined. Your friend invited you to go to a party on Friday night, insisting you bring Yunho too.

You talked about this with Yunho. At first he was reluctant, claiming your friend is not trustworthy and you shouldn't be hanging out with her too much, but eventually, he agreed.

The place of the party was not too far away from the university. It was a big house with a pool in the backyard and a beautiful garden at the front. It was packed, some people dancing, some just hanging out drinking beer or heavy liquor, some kissing, and some smoking...weed?

Is this a fucking frat party?!

Well, might as well have fun; besides, Yunho is here with you anyway, so nothing will happen... right?

Your friend dragged you and Yunho to what you assumed was the kitchen and handed each of you a beer she got from the cooler.

You drink occasionally, most of the time with Yunho, but you've never really been a heavy drinker. Him, on the other hand, has a high tolerance; that's why you were surprised when he came to you drunk that night.

You were getting pretty dizzy when Yunho snatched the can of beer you were holding. It was your third, halfway done. You leaned onto his chest, and a whiff of his perfume reached your senses, causing you to giggle.

"Gosh, you smell sooo good~~." You were still giggling, looking up at him, eyes half-lidded. He took a glance at your plump lips and gulped.

Oh, you have no idea what you do to him.

He wished he could kiss you right there and then, make you feel good like you've never felt before, claim you as his, and submit himself to you, but he held back, not wanting to scare you away, not knowing you felt the same way he did.

You stared at each other, silently relaying your love for one another, hoping the other would just snap and let go.

One...

Two...

Three...

And you pulled away, excusing yourself to the bathroom. You locked the door and stared at your reflection.

Y/N, just tell him already!!

You wanted to pull your hair out of frustration, but you tried to calm down.

What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he likes someone else and just sees me as his friend? Never mind.

You composed yourself before going out and heading back to the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you heard your friend and Yunho's voice.

"What the fuck is so special about her that you'd do all that for her?" You heard your friend's voice.

"She's everything I want; she's everything to me, something you'll never be." Yunho's tone was so low, it almost scared you.

You've never been scared of Yunho once in your life; he has always been so nice and gentle towards you. He never did something that would scare you in any way, so you assumed he was like that with everyone else.

"I wonder what her reaction would be if she finds out what you're doing behind her back." She mocked Yunho.

"I fucking dare you; I won't even look your way if not for her. She considered you her "friend" that's why I've tried to put up with you, but this fucking stops now. Stop throwing yourself at me and don't show yourself in front of us ever again, or"—you heard him step forward—"I'll fucking make you."

She actually tried to throw herself at him?

Bitch.

You heard footsteps, and then there he is, looking at you with a shocked expression, eyes as round as they can be, mouth slightly agape. Then you closed the distance between you and...

You kissed him.

You're kissing him.

You're kissing Jeong Yunho.

Fucking finally.

You had to tiptoe to reach his lips. When he recovered from the shock, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, and kissed you deeper, more passionately. He's been waiting all his life for this, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass.

When you ran out of air, you pulled away from him slightly.

"I have something to tell you." He spoke first, gulping, thinking about what your reaction would be. This is it.

He led you to the poolside and sat there, folding his pants so as not to get them wet, then dipped his feet in the pool. He removed his denim jacket and placed it beside him, patting it, signalling you to sit on it. You obeyed, dipping your feet as well, the cold hitting you immediately.

Then he confessed. Confessed everything he's been doing since he met you. Like pushing away other kids so you'll only play with him. Threatening other guys to never pursue you or even look your way. Fighting with other guys when they said something bad or sexual about you. And the most recent thing is having to beat up someone just so he'll get in the same university as you.

You tried to process everything, trying to take in the new information. You honestly don't know what to feel, a surge of emotions hitting you all at the same time. You never knew he was so possessive of you; well, of course you knew that he wanted all your attention on him, but not to that extent.

Were you so naive to not notice all that? How is he so cold towards everyone and only kind towards you? How much he dislikes it when someone tries to get your attention! All the subtle glances and hand gestures he does behind your back, trying to warn others to not disturb you? Were you really? You never noticed all that? Or maybe you did; you just never cared because it benefitted you. You never cared as long as he's with you. You never cared as long as you always got your way. You ignored everything for the sake of you and your relationship with each other. And maybe, just maybe, you are just as crazy as him.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated!!

[xxchumanixx]

Hey can you make a part two of the Grey daughter part where the whole team finds out about them when she comes to drop off lunch for Grey and Tim and they starts to tease Tim about it

My Man

(sequel to 'Not just any man')

Tim Bradford x Grey!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, a little angst I guess? But only if you squint real hard Word count: 1.265 Authors Note: Hello love, thanks for the request! Hope you'll like it! Enjoy!

You hated your mom sometimes.

When she asked about Tim's favorite food, you should have known something was up.

Or, rather, she was up to something.

You told her, nonetheless, being sent off with two paper bags not long after, told to bring your dad and Tim lunch.

Tim's favorite.

She did it on purpose, trying to have you show your affection for him more openly, around his colleagues. They were already having their own suspicions and rumors about you two, you just hadn't noticed, yet.

So, when you walked into the mid wilshire department, carrying two hot bags in your hands, you first made your way to your dad. He was in his office, blinds up so you could see that he was hunched over some paperwork, glasses on his nose.

Not bothering to knock, you let yourself in, his gaze lifting as he heard the door. "Honey." he greeted you, removing the glasses. "What are you doing here?"

Holding up the bags you walked over, placing one in front of him. "Mom cooked." you explained, cocking a brow. "Wanted to know what's Tim's favorite food and sent me on the way to deliver some."

His head tilted, sending you a pointed look and you sighed. "I know, I know." you murmured, arms flailing at your sides to emphasize your words. "I couldn't stop her."

He shook his head, suspiciously sniffing at the bag. His hands wrapped around it, taking a hold of the plastic container inside. "Tell your mom thank you." he told you, sending you a grateful smile and you nodded.

"Will do."

Then you turned back around, walking back out to find Tim.

Grey took another sniff of the contents in the bag, humming to himself in surprise. Whatever Bradford's favorite food was, it definitely smelled good - not that he would have admitted it out loud, though.

You asked Smitty where Tim was and he directed you into the direction of the detectives, where you spotted him.

He was looking good in his uniform, ass hugged deliciously, as you made your way straight towards him.

"Oh my god." Angela gasped, causing Nyla's gaze to follow hers. "No way." she muttered, eyes as wide as Angela's. "Isn't this Grey's daughter? Why is she- Oh!" she cut herself off, as realization hit her.

"Bradford and her are a thing!"

Tim held himself from cursing under his breath, instead sending you a smile, even though it was forced. He hadn't missed the way Lopez and Harper perked up at your arrival.

You had basically made a beeline for him, not leaving any room for imagination.

"I'm bringing you lunch." you told him, returning the smile, holding up the paper bag in your hand. "And for my dad. Mom insisted that I'd bring you some, too."

He cocked a brow, huffing slightly. "Of course she did."

You chuckled, handing him the bag. "Made your favorite." you told him, sending him a wink. His eyes closed as he inhaled deeply, chuckling as they opened again. "Of course she did." he repeated himself, looking inside the bag.

He would have been lying if he said it didn't smell good.

It smelled fucking delicious.

"I'm guessing she wants the others to know." you spoke, biting your lip. "She wants to show you off as her daughter's boyfriend or something."

One of his brows lifted again, and you shrugged your shoulders. "Don't ask me." you gave back, shaking your head with a smile. "Anyways, I just wanted to bring you the food and see you."

He smiled a smile of his own, softened around the edges. "Thank you." he said, head tilting downwards the slightest bit. "And your mother."

You nodded, suppressing the urge to kiss him. You would have plenty of time to kiss him after his shift.

"I'm gonna go, then." you told him, and he nodded. "See you later." he gave back, hesitating, as he took a step closer, voice lowering to almost a whisper. "I love you."

Grinning, you shook your head. "I love you too." Then you turned around and left, but not without looking back at him.

Lucy plopped up at Tim's side almost immediately after you left, tearing him from his dreamy state. She looked at him knowingly, biting her lip to hide the smile that was threatening to take over.

"What's that look?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed as he tilted his head at her. "Oh, nothing." she quipped, smirking up at him. "That's so sweet of her to bring you lunch. I wonder why, though."

She had to be kidding, Tim thought.

Of course, she knew why you were bringing him lunch. She just wanted to hear it out of his mouth, admit that he was dating Grey's daughter.

It wasn't that he was ashamed of you - quite the opposite, really. He would have shouted it into the open world if he could, but he didn't want anyone to think that he was just using you, or you him.

Your dad was a cop, so of course you had to find someone with a badge as well, right?

Bullshit.

He would have willingly taken it up with anyone, if they just so much as dared to think like this about you.

Before he could respond, Angela and Nyla joined them, causing Tim to groan inwardly.

He was screwed.

"What was that?" Angela wanted to know, failing to hide her grin. She was happy for him, but she also wanted to tease him a bit.

Tim rolled his eyes, mocking her grin with one of his own in pure sarcasm. "What do you mean?" he retorted, clutching the bag to his chest subconsciously.

Nyla started to laugh, sending him a pointed look. "Please." she made, brows raised. "We all know what that was. Bradford is knocking Grey's daughter."

His face grew pale at her choice of words, instinctively falling into defense mode. "I'm not knocking her or anything." he told her, voice sharp as she bit down on a grin.

Of course she didn't mean it like that, but what other way to get him to talk other than this?

Angela must have picked up on her train of thought, whilst Lucy stood by and watched the scene unfold.

"Yeah, Tim, why don't you tell us what's going on between you and mini Grey?" Angela wanted to know, tilting her head with her arms crossed over her chest.

Tim winced at the mini Grey, shaking his head as he slowly came to terms with having to tell to them. They wouldn't stop bothering him, if he didn't.

"Y/N and I are in a relationship." he announced, looking between them only to find knowing smirks. "And you all knew already. Why make me spill it then?"

Lucy chuckled, her and Angela sharing a look. "Because you're grumpy and refuse to tell us about your private life." she explained, looking up at him.

He bit his cheek, swallowing the anger flaring up. "And this is exactly why I refuse to!" he retorted, shaking his head. "Because you all are fucking teases and wouldn't leave me in peace."

Angela scoffed, still smiling though.

"We're all happy for you, Bradford." she told him, her hand brushing over his arm. "We're just noisy assbutts, that want to snoop in your private life. Don't mind us, we'll just be sitting in the back, eating popcorn."

Tim sighed, shaking his head again. "Wouldn't have expected anything different." he returned with a huff. Nyla smirked, hand on her hips.

"And that's exactly why you love us."

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@nachofriess @augustvandyne @RookieTrek

@dhunhdchrih

[waayoutofline]

Murder On The Dance Floor (part 5)

(from the When the Cat and the Mouse Go For a Midnight Dance series) | Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natasha

Summary: Natasha isn’t having the best of luck in trying to bring one of the ex Hydras general down. You however may be able to assist her. Will you two be able to cooperate? Or is it your fate to always stand on opposite teams?

Warnings: More angst (i'm sorry)

WORD COUNT: 2978

A / N: Me posting without a two-week gap?? Whaaaat?? I'm fine, don't worry. I was hit by the divinity of inspiration and got ahead of my messy schedule. So here's ep5! I must say, I'm proud of this one. I'm still trying to figure out their whole dynamic complexity, but I think this is a right step on their journey! Anyway, I've already started on the last episode, which I'll probably publish this Sunday tops. Yes, last one, I swear!

Also..! Natasha in this universe, like in the comics, has (a variant) super soldier serum.

Thanks for reading and have a great day <3

**

If anyone knew Natasha’s fighting skill, it was definitely you. After years of being on opposing sides of heroism—her leaning more toward the ethical path, while you were focused on taking down bad people without the pesky limitations of the law—the two of you had shared your fair share of nasty, brutal fights.

You were all too familiar with her enhanced strength and reflexes, the evidence of her unforgiving grip often leaving lasting marks and ugly bruises. It reminded you of the arachnid symbols she always carried. Her movements were swift and relentless, trapping you like an unknowing prey with complicated manoeuvres that left you immobilized long enough for her to inflict serious damage.

Her toned arms and legs weren’t just for show; they were clearly the result of delivering powerful strikes and breathless chokeholds. She had the intelligence, strength, and agility to take anyone down—of that, you were always certain.

But right now, watching her take down guard after guard, there’s a new aspect that leaves your eyes widening. She wasn’t just dangerous; she was brutal.

Her technique was clearly superior, and she applied it with unforgiving force. You even felt a pang of pity for them. It was like witnessing an entirely new side of her as the sounds of bodies hitting the ground with resounding thuds, grunts, and yelps filled the dark, empty alley—a twisted symphony of chaos.

Something stirred inside you. You recognized her moves, but not this… aggressiveness. For as much as the two of you had fought, she had never been this violent in her style. She moved like a machine programmed for maximum efficiency, eliminating her targets with practically clinical precision. 

It was then that you realized. Your fights felt almost like child’s play compared to this.

That stirring in your chest quickly transformed into boiling anger. Has she been holding back during your fights? The mere sight of seeing her like this was now making your blood simmer. To even consider the possibility that she had always been holding back like this was infuriating. You had always believed the two of you were evenly matched, but now that belief was being shattered—just like the jaws of Horvat’s men.

You had always given her your best. But was she not giving you hers? Had she been playing with you all this time? Did she see you so…so weak that you weren’t even worth her full effort? The thought alone was enough to ignite your fury.

It was humiliating.

If you were asked about it later, you might admit that your next course of action could be perceived as… well, nothing short of pity. But the indignation was so overwhelming that you couldn’t even think straight. It was too much—so raw that it prickled at your eyes, manifesting as a wave of ashamed embarrassment.

As Natasha effortlessly dealt with the guards on her own, you slipped into the shadows. Perhaps the darkness could help soothe the ugly resentment crawling up your throat.

You had been a team player all evening, but now, under the light of the moon, you were back to your solitary game. And in this game, Horvat was the one you were going to hunt. Untethering yourself from the limitations imposed by the heroes, you swiftly made your way to the emergency lift on the side of the flat building next to you.

Rising through the levels, you were granted a panoramic view of the district, your eyes scanning intently for Horvat’s getaway car. Retrieving the tech-enhanced glasses from your trousers pocket, you adjusted them and searched for the dark blue sedan. It didn’t take long to spot it.

Sighing, you focused your magic. With a wave of your arm, you conjured ice, forming a crystalline path strong enough to carry you. You modified the soles of your shoes to adapt, gaining incredible speed as you skied across the continuously growing trail of ice. The path allowed you to glide effortlessly over buildings and bypass entire streets, cutting directly toward Horvat’s moving vehicle.

It may have looked effortless, but each time you created a new solid ice structure, a sharp headache pierced your skull. Your chest heaved as you struggled to maintain the pace, each breath growing more laboured.

These…abilities weren’t exactly something you had mastered. In fact, you hadn’t used them enough to build a solid foundation of control. Years of torture and clinical experimentation designed to force you to have and use them had left their mark. The trauma lingered, resurfacing every time you dared wield them.

They were additionally deeply tied to your emotions, making them volatile at best. And on a night like this, after everything that had happened with Natasha, they felt even more unstable.

You were also aware of SHIELD’s persistent interest in capturing you because of them, likely to place you under custody. After all, SHIELD didn’t take kindly to superhuman abilities existing outside their jurisdiction. That thought alone fuelled your defiance. You hadn’t escaped one controlling organization just to fall under the grip of another. No, this time, you were playing solo—defying every group that claimed to do “good” while operating under their own brand of morality.

And right now, as you practically flew across the New York night, the feeling of freedom was exhilarating. Besides, the end of the chase would be that much sweeter. Your mind was reeling with the thought of finally catching the bastard, of making him talk.

After weaving through a few more blocks, you finally found yourself right behind the car. The driver was clearly aware of your presence, speeding up through traffic in a desperate attempt to escape. But you weren’t going to let him get away. Propelling yourself forward with icy air, you surged after them. You were so focused—so consumed with the goal of getting your hands on that car—that you didn’t hear the familiar hum of an airy engine trailing behind you.

Leaping into the air, you were about to launch yourself forward again when something barrelled into you from the side, slamming you off course and throwing you away from the street. Using the last of your strength, you managed to create a messy aspheric ice barrier around you, stopping yourself from crashing directly into the display window of a shop.

Your lungs burned as you lay there, the harsh motion having knocked the air clean out of you. Your limbs ached from the rough landing, muscles that you didn’t even know you had burning.

Trying to shake off the terrible disorientation that slamming through a window could cause, you didn’t feel the sharp glass shards or the solid concrete beneath you. No, you were pressed against something warm and soft, the faint scent of sand wool and forest causing your eyebrows to furrow. And since when did the ground breathe… wait… breathe?

Startled, you pulled yourself slightly upright, only to be greeted by red hair and half opened green eyes. Of course, you were sure she would be one of the few people in the world daring enough to tackle you in mid-air.

However, your confusion quickly turned into something else when you saw the predicament of your position. She had clearly shielded your head from making contact with the ground, turning both of your bodies so that hers was between you and the floor. Her arms remained firmly around your waist, clearly having adjusted her grip from the initial takedown to ensure you both survived the impact.

“Well,” she muttered, her voice dry but strained, “that went well.”

The protective nature of the action turned your confusion into fury. “Let go of me,” you managed to mutter through gritted teeth. Natasha, still recovering, scrunched her face in confusion but didn’t move. “Let go of me,” you repeated, harsher and more impatient. Her touch, her smell, her mere presence felt suffocating.

“Wh-what… hold on, wait—” She started muttering, trying to make sense of your sudden struggle to get away. She seemed to come to her senses when you began to push harder against her chest, trying to create some distance between you. Ugh, stupid super soldier serum.

She must have thought your desperation was to get back to chasing Horvat. But at that moment, the ex-Hydra general was the last thing on your mind.

You two started wrestling in a way that felt more like a pathetic high school fight. The humiliation you had felt before doubled as you struggled to break free.

“Get off!” You almost screeched in desperation, making the agent startle as she managed to pin you down. She had never seen you like this—desperate and so… out of control. You were worlds away from the mischievous vigilante who always got under her skin.

“Okay! Okay, just… stop! Stop, stay down.” With those words, your fight seemed to disappear all at once, your body going limp. This only made Natasha worry even more as she slowly loosened her grip and moved off of you.

She remained tense, half-expecting you to bolt. But you stayed there, trying to catch your breath. She would be lying if she said that didn’t worry her even more. The worst part? You went quiet. No remarks, no snark—just silence, alongside the sounds of gunshots, alarms, and the street’s chaotic noise.

She opened her mouth to ask if you were okay, but closed it. Right now, this wasn’t the time for that. “What were you thinking?” she demanded, finally standing up. “We’re on a mission; you can’t just take off like that—”

“Well, you didn’t seem like you needed my help,” you scoffed, grunting at the pain of your abdomen when you incorporated slowly.

“So you decided to go off the grid?” Frustration built up in her voice, her tone condescending. As if you two were partners. 

That was far from the truth, and she seemed to have forgotten it. “See, this attitude of yours is what pisses me off. Doing whatever you want, whenever you want—consequences be damned, as long as you get your way!”

Standing up as fast as you could, you faced her defensively. “I’m not one of your incompetent low ranked subordinates that you boss around. And yes, while you were putting Horvat’s men to an early grave, I decided to chase after Horvat, who, by the way…” You laughed in fake amusement. “Is getting away as we chat. You just couldn’t stand that it was me who was about to finally catch him, could you?”

Natasha’s eyes widened at the accusation. “What are you even talking about? Do you see this as some kind of sick competition? Have you looked outside?”

Confusion crossed your face. Shaking off the remaining crystals and dust, Natasha started walking away from the now-destroyed shop, gesturing for you to follow her. Reluctantly, you swallowed your anger and fell in behind her. When getting out, your eyes widened. Traces of ice were covering the street, no doubt being left behind your trace. Some of them took the shape of sharp shards that were encrusted on the pavement, alongside swerved cars with frozen bumpers. 

You didn’t even notice.

An ugly feeling made you swallow as you saw a family getting out of a partly smashed car, the tires completely covered in ice. “I… I didn’t—”

You stared helplessly, afraid of what could have happened because of your fault. “It was an accident… it-it wasn’t— fuck.” You turned around, closing your eyes while trying to regain some sense of control.

You did that. You lost control. And someone got hurt because of it. Again.

“…I guess I get it now. Why are you holding yourself back.” Letting out a single cackle, your eyes trailed down to your hands as if they weren’t your own. They are still terrible cold.

“I’m not following,” the agent confessed. There it was again, that ugly sense of incompetence hitting you square on your ego. You turned around aggressively; the least she could do was say it to your face.

“Please. This just been an annoying game for you? Hasn’t it?” You finally exclaimed, hoping your eyes weren’t betraying the humiliation you felt. “We’re supposed to be enemies, Natalia. We fight, we… I thought you at least respected that.”

Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “But all this time, you haven’t given me your true potential. In each encounter we’ve had, I’ve had the decency to at least outdo you. Am I so god-damn weak to you that you have to pull back in such a way?”

Finally, she seemed to understand what you were trying to say, and her reaction was anything but subdued. She took a few angry steps closer, her presence suffocating and electrifying all at once. “Are you telling me this tantrum has been all because I didn’t treat you like some Horvat soldier?”

You remained quiet, giving her an answer she clearly didn’t like. “If it weren’t for me, you’d probably be in the RAFT by now. Is that what you want?”

Your jaw dropped at her audacity, as if, all of a sudden, she could have caught you from the very first day you opposed her. “So what? Are you telling me I should thank you for that? Please.” You laughed, “You haven’t even come close. If you could have caught me all this time, then why haven’t you?” You snapped.

Clenching her jaw, she stopped until she was face-to-face with you. You could feel her usual controlled storm turning into a wild hurricane. You didn’t back down. “If I haven’t brought out all of SHIELD’s operatives and the rest of the Avengers to take you down, it’s because of this.”

You didn’t even have time to react as her hand reached for your face, slightly flinching as she deliberately took her time, her movements measured and slow. Your eyes widened just a little as her soft fingertips brushed away the betraying tears sliding down your cheeks, catching one and wiping it away.

“Because despite all this ‘I don’t give a damn’ attitude of yours, you do. I can feel your pain, your regret over hurting the innocents you’re trying to protect… your self-hatred,” she said, her voice steady, but it carried a weight that almost made it seem like those feelings were affecting her too.

She paused, trying to choose her next words carefully. “Even if your methods are over-the-line insane, underneath it all, there’s someone who genuinely wants to do good. Even if the only way you know how is by going to a dark place that consumes you every single time.”

Her hand trailed down until she gently pushed your chest with a single finger. “The only reason I haven’t caught you by now—besides the fact that you’re frighteningly cunning and intelligent, and somehow manage to get under my skin or read me like a book…” She trailed off, her voice lowering, her eyes dropping. The slight praise made your heart flutter. You almost immediately hated it.

You didn’t dare to breathe as she tried to find her words. 

“It’s because I believe you can be so much more,” she finished quietly. 

When her gaze meets yours again, this time is softer, as if returning from somewhere. “I was like you once. Someone was supposed to stop me for good, too. But they made a different call.” The resolve in her voice is unmistakable. “Now, I’m the one making that call.”

For a moment that seemed to stretch on in the distance, neither of you dared to move. Her words seem to echo though the air, manifesting again and again in your head. You wanted to say something, anything. But what were you supposed to answer?

She was clearly giving you a white flag, a truce. But accepting would change everything. And you didn’t know if you were ready for that. Clenching your hands against your sides, you couldn’t stand the shimmering hope reflecting on the dark pools of sea foam. 

“I am not meant to be a hero, Nat.” You answered delicately, feeling like you owned her at least. 

Natasha didn’t flinch. Instead, she stood there, her silence louder than anything she could have said. You braced yourself, praying that she didn't make this more difficult than it was supposed to be.

But before she could speak, static crackled from her comms.

“We got him,” Yelena’s voice cut through the tension. “Horvat is in custody, Natasha. It’s done.”

Natasha’s shoulders went down, just slightly. You could see the shift in her expression—relief, professionalism. Her hand moved up to press her earpiece, her sharp green eyes still locked onto you.

“…Understood,” she replied, her tone steady but clipped. For a moment, it was as she answered both of you. You didn't say anything as she finally stepped back, the silence defining. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “When I was chasing you I installed a tracker on his car, my unit did the rest.”

You wanted to laugh because, of course, despite everything that happened her multitasking was unmatched. She started to walk away but paused when you didn’t immediately follow. You just stood there, watching, wondering how she always managed to build a wall between her emotions and professionalism. As if she hadn’t just disrupted your entire chemical balance mere seconds ago.

“Are you coming?” she asked, her tone casual, as though the weight of her earlier words hadn’t just cracked something open inside you.

Your reluctance was answer enough.

“The truce will stand, even in SHIELD’s jurisdiction, I promise,” she added, her voice firm but not unkind. “Besides, we’re processing him to a secondary location first.”

Normally, you’d call bullshit. You knew how much SHIELD hated your vigilante methods—how relentless they were in their attempts to bring you in. And yet, despite all of that, you found yourself taking a step forward, then another, until you were following Natasha.