#i hunted for a few specific red/reader ones but i couldn't find them

[the-cult-of-russo]

Such a Softer Sin (Part 22)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: I’m not specifically tagging this one, if you’ve seen the show, nothing will shock you. Smut will happen eventually so minors DNI, thanks.

A/N: I hope I’m going to be forgiven for the last chapter lololol

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You felt like you were suspended in time and space, floating in a vast sea of nothingness. Weightless, like you had no form. You could hear beeping echoing in the distance, calling out to you like a siren call. Voices started to vibrate all around you, sounding far away, like you were listening from underwater. 

How is she even alive?

I have no idea, that thing shoulda killed her.

What do we do about Billy? 

He’s gone apeshit, we need to find him. 

We need to get to him before things get bad like last time. 

You think I’m not trying? I’ve got guys scouring the earth for him right now.

The voices faded into nothing and you couldn't tell how much time passed by. It felt like years and no time at all.

It’s not your time, sweet child.

Your eyes flew open as a large gasp got ripped from your lungs and you sat up quickly, eyes darting around. You were in the medical facility. 

“Y/N!” Karen dove off the chair she’d been sitting on, rushing over to your bedside as she looked at you with wide tearful eyes. She gathered you into her arms, hugging you tightly as her whole body shook.

“I have no idea how you survived but I'm glad you did,” she sniffled before she moved away, hovering by the bed. 

“What happened?” you asked groggily as you tried to remember what went down. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, dancing in the periphery of your mind, just out of reach. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, her eyes worried as she struggled to meet your own. 

“King Rawlins… he stabbed you with his sword,” she muttered and some flashes hit you at record speed. You remembered the fight, remembered the Vampire King suddenly being there, remembered him ramming you through with his glowing red sword.

“Why didn’t it kill me?” you frowned tiredly, still coming to. 

“I have no idea,” she shook her head but her eyes shone with relief that you were here somehow. You remembered the last voice then, one you were sure was the Goddess Selene and you wondered if she had anything to do with it. You knew she didn't usually mess with fate but she’d told you that it wasn’t your time. 

“Where’s Billy?” you asked and her face fell at the same time those memories came back too. You remembered the looming black wolf, as dark as the night sky as it snapped its jaws, ripping people apart. Dread seized you tight as your heartbeat skyrocketed and you felt like you might be sick.

“We haven’t been able to find him yet. He’s faster than we are and he’s erratic, unpredictable. We know he’s close because I used magic to try and track him, but we keep missing him with how fast he is,” she explained with a frown and you swallowed thickly. 

“The Vampire King is dead, Billy ripped his head clean off after… He shifted because he thinks you're dead and I’m… I’m scared because this will be worse than last time,” she admitted and your stomach twisted in painful knots with each word she spoke. 

“When Billy shifted, a lot of the vampires and rogues fled because they were terrified of him in that form. He’s been hunting them down, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. I’m scared for him because last time, his bloodlust got so bad he almost killed innocent people and that was different. You're his mate, the loss he feels right now is way worse than anything he’s ever felt,” she added, rubbing her lower lip with a thoughtful frown. It worried you that he was running around out there like that. You knew it would kill him if he hurt an innocent, you’d seen how scared he’d been to shift after the last time. You knew if you could somehow reach him, tell him you were alive, that you could stop this. You glanced down at your chest, seeing your bloodied tunic with a hole in it. You moved it, looking down inside of it and you saw no wound, not even a scar. It didn't hurt like you thought it would, it just felt like you’d been sucker punched in the chest really hard.

“When we realized you weren’t dead… I used magic on you to help heal you,” she murmured and you nodded, giving her a small smile. You noticed she looked completely drained and you weren’t sure if it was the stress or if healing something like this had taken it out of her. You still felt a little out of it and your mind was reeling from knowing Billy had shifted, that he thought you were dead and he was running around chasing his bloodlust.

“How long has it been?” you asked carefully. You felt gross, still covered in blood that was a mix of yours and that from battle and you had some mud on you. 

“It’s been a few days,” she supplied. A few days, Billy had been gone for days and you knew it was only going to get worse the longer he was like that. You moved to swing your legs over the bed and Karen hovered next to you.

“You should rest, Y/N,” she cautioned but you heard the hesitation in her voice. She knew you were the best shot at getting Billy back and they were all worried about him.

“I’m fine, I need to find him,” you muttered as you stood. You felt a little dizzy and Karen put a steadying hand on your arm as you closed your eyes and tried to push it away. It lasted only a few seconds before you felt better and you opened your eyes again.

“You need to be careful. Last time… he tried to attack Frank and I don’t know how his mind will be right now. I don’t know if he’ll even recognize you as his mate,” she murmured with a deep frown creasing her brows. You knew in your heart he would though, he was in his pure Lycan form now and you knew his wolf would see you.

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted, moving over to grab your dagger that was sitting on the bedside table. You had no idea where your sword was but it didn't matter, you didn't have time and you didn't need it anyway. She told you the last known location the spell had shown her Billy was at and then you were off.

“Good luck,” she called out to you as you rushed out of the door. You hurried out of the medical facility, bumping right into Frank and he looked stunned to see you as his hands gripped your shoulders so you didn’t topple over after you’d bumped into him. His eyes scanned your face quickly and he looked like he’d seen a ghost. You saw the relief all over it but you didn't have time to be touched by how much he cared.

“I really need to go, Frank. I need to find Billy,” you said frantically and he let you go.

“I’ll come with you,” he muttered firmly and you shook your head.

“It’s not a good idea. You should stay here and get Anvil ready for him. I’ll take him there when I find him,” you asserted. He looked like he wanted to argue and you weren't sure if it was your rank as Queen or the fact he knew you were right, but he relented anyway.

“Alright, I’ll get it set up,” he nodded, giving you a meaningful look before you ran over to the gate, a guard letting you out.

You weren’t scared as you left the castle grounds, you knew the Vampire King was dead and while some of his men might still be out there that Billy hadn’t gotten to yet, you could easily take them now. You were determined, trying to quell the nerves for what you might find when you finally got to Billy. You honestly had no idea how he’d react but it didn't mean you wouldn't try. When you got to the area that Karen had told you, there was no sign of Billy and your heart faltered for a moment. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply as you tried to catch his scent. Faint traces of bergamot and orange blossom hit your nose and you perked up, eyes snapping open. You remembered what Karen said about how fast and erratic he’d been, how they hadn’t been able to catch him and his scent was fading, barely there. You were starting to worry he might be too quick for you to catch up to him. You let your wolf come as close to the surface as you could allow with no full moon as you used your wolf speed to dart through the trees, boots slapping into the mud hurriedly as you chased his scent. You started to worry when you realized you were heading into human territory. Billy shouldn't be here. You weren't sure if he was following a rogue or vampire here or if his wolf was slipping further into insanity, but neither options were good. You pushed yourself faster, worry drowning you as you darted through the trees and you stopped abruptly in a small clearing just on the outskirts of a human town. Your eyes widened like saucers at the sight of an enormous black wolf standing there facing away from you. You were startled by how big he was and all you could do for a moment was stare at him as you took in his form. You shook your head quickly as you took a hesitant step towards him.

“Billy!” you called out, your voice trembling. The wolf turned, silver eyes meeting yours. You were sure you'd never seen a wolf confused before in your life yet you felt like you could see it all over him. A painful whine tore from his throat and you felt it down to your bones as you stared at him. You started to slowly walk towards him, your movements careful and deliberate as your eyes never left him. 

“I’m okay, I’m right here. I didn’t die,” you soothed and you jumped when he snarled at you, top lip curling and revealing his sharp and bloody teeth. You pushed on despite his warning and he snapped his jaws at you, hackles raised. You had no idea if he recognised you or not or if he thought you were a figment of his mind. You stood there, body shaking as you tried to not be scared. You dropped to your knees, baring your neck to him in a show of submission, hoping to appeal to his rank as Lycan King. He started to prowl closer, eyes sharp and focused, each step slow. A spike of fear ripped right through you, not knowing what he was about to do. Would he hurt you? You knew that immortal didn’t mean unkillable anymore but Billy had made it seem like the sword had been the only thing to exist that could kill you. You had no idea how the healing process would go if he ripped your head off and you didn't really want to find out. He came over slowly, deep growls coming from his snarling face and your heart was beating a mile a minute as you kept your head up and neck bared. You felt like you couldn't breathe when he was finally right in front of you, his form looming over you before he leaned down. He started scenting your neck and your whole body was tense, staying stock still so you didn't spook him and set him off. As he took in your scent, another painful whine left him and you wondered if he was starting to come to his senses, if he was starting to see that you were really here. He nuzzled your neck, the sensation tickling you slightly and now feeling slightly braver, you moved away, taking his large face into your hands and looking right into his bright silver eyes. You stroked his soft fur, the pain behind his eyes overwhelming and you wondered why you couldn't feel it right now. You were glad you couldn't. 

“It’s really me, Billy, I’m fine. But I need you to come with me, okay? I need to get you somewhere safe,” you said slowly. He blinked at you slowly for a moment and you weren't sure if he even understood you, but then he nuzzled your cheek before he took a few steps back, his eyes pinned on you. You stood up, still slow in your movements and scared something might set him off and he’d snap. 

“Come on,” you murmured, starting to walk and you were pleased when he walked by your side, almost protectively with the way he hovered over you. 

You were wary and cautious as you walked to Anvil, worried a vampire or a rogue would pop up out of nowhere and make this all go downhill. You weren't sure how it would go down with you in the crosshairs. You just needed to get him to Anvil, then you didn't have to worry about anyone getting hurt that didn't deserve it and you could focus on him. He followed you obediently and you tried to just stay calm about the situation you found yourself in. You’d gotten to him before he could do anything bad, you’d saved him from having to face the horrors of what he could have done. When you started to recognise where you were, you sent a mindlink to Frank asking if he was still there. You knew if he didn't answer then he was gone as Anvil was too far from the castle for it to reach. He didn't answer and you relaxed. With Karen telling you how Billy almost attacked him last time, you didn't need Frank to set him off and you knew Billy would be distraught if he hurt his best friend. When you finally saw the gates of Anvil, and luckily no guards in sight, you breathed a sigh of relief. You had no idea how Billy would have reacted to his guards but you knew Frank wasn’t stupid. He’d been dealing with Billy way longer than you’d even been around. You opened the gate, stepping inside and waiting for him to follow. Once he did, you closed it and locked it, leading Billy over to near the cottage. He was far too big to fit inside but you didn't care, you’d just stay out here with him, even if it was cold. His silver eyes were watching you with keen interest, sharp and focused as you tried to keep your movements slow, still not wanting to spook him. You moved to sit on the floor, eyes stuck on him and he slowly walked over, walking around you until he lay down curled around you. You were tucked near his front leg, his head right next to you as he nuzzled your face again and you found yourself smiling as you sank into his warm and soft fur. He lay his head down on the floor then and you wondered if he was tired. Had he rested at all in the past few days? Something told you that the answer was no. You shifted around to get comfortable, cuddling near his head and allowing his scent to soothe you. You’d barely had a moment to really take in that the war was finally over. The Vampire King was dead and most of the ones who had fled had been taken out by Billy. It was a relief for it all to finally be done, to finally have that justice for all of those that needed it. You weren’t the only one that had lost something to them and neither was Billy. The Vampires had been terrorizing people for the longest time and now it was done. You couldn't wait for Billy to shift back, for him to be able to enjoy it himself. After the last war, the Vampire King had loomed over him like a dark shadow, making him feel like a failure. But he was dead now, Billy had killed him and finally got that revenge he desperately needed. It was all finally over. You fell asleep under the stars that night, curled against him as he huffed soft breaths in his sleep. 

Your eyes fluttered open and you blinked slowly as you came to your senses. You were surrounded by Billy's scent and it soothed you. As your brain woke up more, you registered that you were cuddled up to him, his arm around you as he clung to you now in his normal form. You took a moment to really look at him. He looked so peaceful and it soothed something inside of you after the past few days you’d had, not counting the ones you’d been out of it. He had streaks of mud and blood on his face and you resisted the urge to smooth his messy hair from his face as you didn't want to wake him. He needed the rest. You heard your stomach growl and it suddenly hit you that you hadn’t eaten since before you set out to battle. You suddenly felt starving. He looked like he might sleep for a while so you decided to make some breakfast for you both, knowing he’d need to eat too. You carefully untangled yourself from him and he let out a soft noise, hands grasping out like he was trying to find you before he got tugged under once more by deep sleep. You watched him for a moment to make sure he wouldn't wake up but he seemed completely out for the count. You walked inside the cottage, eyes glancing around as you remembered the last time you were here. You’d barely had time to really take it in. It was nice here, a lot cozier than the large castle and you made your way to the kitchen, looking through the cupboards to see what food he had in and where everything was. Once you got the lay of the land, you started to make breakfast. You settled on scrambled eggs, much like what he’d made you when you were mid shift. It was simple and easy, quick to cook. And maybe you were feeling a tad sentimental. You’d almost finished the eggs when you heard the front door burst open and you jumped. You quickly turned the stove off before you rushed over to the door leading to the living room. Billy was standing in the front doorway, his wide eyes staring at you. You would have found it comical in any other situation as he was naked and covered in mud and blood, looking confused as hell. But you saw the heartbreak all over him, looking so lost as he just gaped at you.

“I didn’t think you'd wake up yet, I’m sorry. I was making us both breakfast,” you murmured carefully. He was tearful, feet rooted to the floor as he looked like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Haunted wasn't enough to describe how he looked. 

“Billy...” you said softly as you started to approach him, feeling bad for him. He looked so shell shocked. As you got to him, you were startled when a broken sob left his lips and he grabbed you, clinging tightly to you as he sobbed into your neck. You suddenly felt everything he was feeling. He was confused you were here, in pain over what he saw that day but also felt blind relief that you were okay. The confusing mix of emotions made you feel lightheaded and they weren’t even your emotions. You held him tightly, stroking his hair as he cried and your heart broke for him.

“I… I thought you were… I thought…” he wept pitifully, unable to get his words out through his tears and a large lump lodged itself in your throat. You’d lost a lot of people, witnessed some of their deaths and even taken one of the lives yourself. You knew that pain all too well but none of them had been your mate. You couldn't even imagine the pain Billy must have felt when he watched you get run through with that sword, thinking he just watched you die. 

“I’m fine, Billy. I’m here,” you soothed, pressing your face into his hair as his hands grasped at you like you might float away. His entire body was trembling and you carefully peeled him off you, looking at him sympathetically as his glassy brown eyes stared at you. You led him over to the sofa, easing him to sit before you sat next to him. He didn't waste a second before he grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap to be as close as he could be with you. His arms wrapped around you, his head pressing against your chest as he took greedy inhales like he was willing your scent to calm him down. You stroked his hair again, wanting nothing more than to take his pain away. 

“Let me just finish breakfast so we can eat and then we can just relax together, okay?” you asked quietly and he shook his head vehemently, looking up at you with the most heart wrenching look you’d ever seen.

“No, don’t… don’t leave me. I just… I don’t need to eat, just stay with me,” he pleaded in a rush and getting stabbed with a sword again would have hurt less. You nodded, not wanting to upset him further as you cupped his cheeks, thumbs stroking away his tears as he leaned into your touch. 

“How are you…?” he trailed off looking more than confused, eyes scanning your face like he was considering you weren't real. 

“I honestly have no idea. I think your mother might have something to do with it though. I think I heard her before I woke up, telling me it wasn’t my time,” you revealed and he looked surprised. He blinked rapidly, eyes still tearful as his lower lip quivered and his grip on you tightened. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what I’d do without you. I was ready to set the whole world ablaze with everyone on it ‘cause of the pain I was in,” he lamented, shaking his head. You frowned as you stroked his damp cheeks. You could feel the worry gnawing at him that he might have done something terrible when in his other form.

“All you did was hunt down the bad guys and finish what we started,” you tried to reassure him. You knew it could have escalated, maybe it would have if you hadn't found him and it was worrying he’d been lurking outside of the human town, but it hadn't escalated and he was here and fine. He turned his face in your hold, pressing his face into your hand as he nuzzled it.

“I love you,” he whispered brokenly and you swallowed the lump down hard as you turned him to face you. 

“I love you too,” you muttered firmly, hoping he could see it, that he could feel it. He watched you for a long moment, so many emotions behind his dark eyes that you could barely keep up with them. You felt that painful stab of hunger again and you knew you both needed breakfast. 

“I really need to finish breakfast. You need to eat something and honestly, so do I. I haven't eaten in days,” you admitted and he frowned then, finally relenting as he nodded and you knew it was only for you. He let you go and you stood up, wanting to be as quick as possible so you could get back to him. But as you started to walk into the kitchen, you were caught off guard when he followed you like a lost puppy. He hovered around you as you cooked, never wanting you out of his sight and you felt the sadness hanging over him like a dark cloud. You knew he was happy that you were back but he couldn't seem to shake what he’d seen and felt and you didn't blame him. You wondered if it would take some time for his brain to really adjust to the fact that you were indeed alive. When you made breakfast, he followed you into the living room as you both sat down to eat it and it wasn't lost on you how he sat as close as possible with his side completely pressed against yours. You scarfed your food down greedily, noticing him doing the same and you were happy he was eating something. When the food was gone, you set the plates on the coffee table, knowing you’d deal with them later. You moved to sit sideways, your legs over his as you lay your head on his chest and his arms came around you instantly. 

“Are you…Are you okay?” he asked quietly after a long moment and you nodded.

“I’m fine. When they realized I wasn’t dead, Karen healed me. It just aches now,” you replied, your hand coming to rest on his smooth chest as you stroked the skin there absentmindedly. 

“How are the others?” he asked warily and you glanced up at him.

“They’re fine, they’ve been worried about you though. Frank was the one who got Anvil ready for you,” you explained, watching as he nodded but he had a slightly far away look in his eyes.

“The war’s over. You killed the Vampire King, it’s done,” you assured him and you felt him relax under you a little. His hand threaded into your hair, rubbing your scalp soothingly and you enjoyed the touch. 

“I’m… I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I shoulda been there but I just… I never thought for one second that you woulda made it,” he confessed with a deep frown.

“I didn’t think I would have either,” you murmured, giving him a wry smile but he didn't smile back. He still had that haunted look on his face.

“When do you want to go back?” you asked him, hand stroking his chest as if you could ease the pain you knew lay there.

“Not yet… I’m not ready. Maybe just stay another day, go back tomorrow,” he murmured and you nodded. You understood his need to stay longer, he still seemed in a state of shock. You wanted to let Frank know that you’d be staying here, that you’d found Billy and he was okay but you had no way of contacting him right now. You hoped he’d turn up at some point, staying outside as he mindlinked you. 

You stayed cuddled into his side as he held you tightly, hands wandering leisurely like he was making sure you were really there. You were just enjoying each other’s presence for a while when his hands started to get a little more insistent as they touched you. You started to feel his desire and it surprised you a little bit given everything that had gone on, but you knew he was probably feeling a confusing mix of things right now. Maybe it was because the wolf was still so close to the surface or maybe it was because he’d thought you’d died and now he just wanted to be as close as possible to you. You weren't sure but when you looked at him covered in mud and blood, you decided a bath would be a good option.

“Come on, let’s take a bath together,” you smiled calmly at him, untangling yourself from him as you stood. He blinked at you slowly for a moment before he nodded and stood and you led him upstairs to the bathroom. You drew a bath, helping him in before you moved to undress yourself. You felt his eyes burning holes into you and as you bent down to get out of your pants, you heard a deep growl. When you looked at him, he looked startled by himself, eyes wide and blinking quickly before he frowned. 

“I’m sorry… I…” he muttered. You moved over, climbing inside the nice warm water as you sat facing him. 

“It’s okay.  You’ve been through a lot and your body and mind just need to adjust,” you soothed. You grabbed the wash cloth, lathering it up before you got to work in getting him clean. He sat there silently but he seemed to enjoy your touches as you got him clean. Once you’d finished, you grabbed the cup from the side of the bath before moving to straddle him so you could wash his hair properly. His hands moved around you like it was reflex and you scooped water up with the cup before pouring it over his head as he tilted it back. Once it was soaked, you grabbed the shampoo, rubbing it into his hair and massaging his scalp, making him hum softly. When you rinsed out the shampoo, he pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply and you felt him hard underneath you. His hands flexed on your back, fingers biting into your skin.

“I-I need…” he struggled to get his words out, voice low and rough and you grabbed his face, making him look at you with his wide dark eyes.

“I know,” you murmured, leaning down and capturing his lips in a kiss. It was gentle. Caring and loving as you kissed him but his lips turned insistent, greedy as he lined himself up and made you sink down onto him without much warning. You moaned in shock and it mixed with his needy groan as his hands gripped your hips and he started fucking himself with you. Your head was spinning at the pleasure you felt and you grasped his shoulders for leverage as he made you bounce on his cock. When you looked at him, he looked so lost and far away, his eyes glued to the spot on your chest where the sword had been buried and you moved to cup his face, forcing him to look at you and he stilled his motions, the haze in his eyes clearing like he was really seeing you once more. 

“I love you,” you murmured earnesty, needing him to know that. You felt him relax, his body unwinding like a coil and a smile graced his face. No matter how small it may have been, you’d never been so relieved to see it. 

“I love you too,” he replied softly and you leaned down, kissing him again. He didn't rush the kiss this time, didn't take over as he kissed you languidly. 

You started moving again and he moaned into the kiss, his hands anywhere and everywhere he could touch like he needed to memorize you. You rolled your hips against him, reveling in the feel of every inch of him as he arched up at you. He broke the kiss, hot burning kisses trailing down your neck and you bared it to him, making him groan as he started to nip and suck at it. You felt the fire inside you burning hotter and brighter with each roll of your hips, the sound of both your moans filling the air. There was something so erotic about the way he touched you like you were made of gold, as if you were some sacred object. You grabbed his hair, tugging it harshly to lift his face back up to yours and he let out a filthy groan before his lips crashed to yours. The kiss was sloppy, broken by the sounds you were both moaning as you got closer to release. One of his hands snaked around you completely, fingertips biting into your shoulder as he held you for purchase, fucking up into you a little harder but not much faster. His other hand pawed at your ass cheek, squeezing and kneading at the flesh there. You felt like you needed this just as much as he did. The feeling of pure closeness you felt right now was comforting after all you’d been through and every touch, every kiss, every thrust was burning you alive. You kissed him deeply until your lungs screamed for air, breaking away and resting your forehead on his as your pace picked up a bit with the primal need to find your release that was rapidly approaching. The desperate noises he was making were fueling the fire, wrapping around you like silk as it pushed you to go harder and faster, wanting you to both fall off the edge together. 

“Don’t stop… don’t fuckin’ stop,” Billy moaned, sounding half gone and delirious with a face of pure bliss and you shattered around him. Your body moved instinctively as a series of loud moans tumbled from your lips, riding out your orgasm at the pleasure spread throughout your entire being. You clutched him tightly, feeling him fucking up into you almost desperately as he came with a deep moan. You tucked your face into his neck as you caught your breath, your brain spinning in the best way as the high coursed your veins and his hands smoothed up your back. You felt completely relaxed and you could feel that he felt the same now. You weren't sure how long it would last but you hoped it would at least be for a while. Seeing him so lost and haunted wounded you and you hated it. 

The next day, you were getting ready to leave and go back to the castle. After the bath yesterday, you and Billy just spent the rest of the day holding each other in bed as he started coming back to his senses. You knew he wanted you close, wanted to be touching you in some way at all times and you’d allowed him this as he started to seem more normal and less haunted as the day wore on. Just before bed, Frank had come to the forest outside and sent you a mindlink, asking if you were here. You’d told him Billy was fine and that he was back to normal mostly and he’d been more than relieved. Billy had then retreated to another room and you had a feeling Frank had mindlinked him now he knew he was okay. You didn’t want to ask him, didn’t want to pry or upset him after he'd only just calmed down, but he seemed lighter when he came back and you were grateful. You’d both been through an ordeal, although you’d admit he’d had the worst of it. You really didn't know just what you’d do if you’d thought Billy had died. You’d forced shifted when you saw Kos die so you could only imagine it would be even worse if it was Billy. You were grateful you made it, still a little unsure as to why but you knew the Goddess had done it. The idea of Billy becoming totally unhinged and running around looking for blood wasn’t one you enjoyed and you knew if you hadn’t have come back, that’s exactly how it would have stayed.

“You ready?” Billy asked you softly, his hand moving to your lower back and you gave him a smile. 

“Yeah, let’s go home,” you murmured and it made his lips twitch up. Part of you would miss being here with him like this, being alone together. But you also found you missed the general hustle and bustle of the castle which is something you never thought you’d say. You’d grown used to such a big group now, grown attached to the people there. Your people. You wondered what would happen when you arrived after everything. You doubted any of the wolves had really had time to enjoy that the war was over given what happened with their King and Queen. As the pair of you walked back to the castle hand in hand, your mind turned over everything you’d been through. You almost died, maybe kind of did for a few moments and it had been terrifying. You hadn't even had time for any real last thoughts either which was a little depressing when you thought about it. It was sad, the idea of what would have happened to you if you had died. You had no idea where you’d go or how it would be like to be apart from Billy. Selene had told you Kos was happy and at peace, but he’d be reunited with his mate. Would you have known that same peace without Billy by your side? Would he ever join you being immortal himself? Then again, you had a feeling that if you had died, eventually he would have found the glowing red sword again and run himself through with it. You shook your head, knowing you didn't need to worry yourself with such morbid thoughts, you were fine, as was he. The war was over, for now at least and you hoped it would stay that way. You could really start to settle down and into your new role without the threat dangling over you. You could finally start to think about the future. After everything that had gone wrong in your life, all the things you’d lost, you were just finally happy that something worked out. 

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@on-ya

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

@noortsshift

@rainbowgoblinfan

@mysweetlittledesire

@promnightbinbaby

@intothesoul

[tyranttortoise]

Hello! First I want to tell you that, your fics are so amazing!. I'm in love especially with the way that you write about UF and SF bros and I want to know if you could recommend me fics about them? Thank you for your time! Please, keep it up!

Oh man, I don’t read many fics these days, and when I do, they’re usually Hancock/Sole Survivor fics or Charon/Lone Wanderer fics because I’m Fallout ghoul trash.  I could recommend Fallout fics all day.  

I’ve done a few fic rec lists, so lemme link them first.  

As always, be sure to mind the tags when you’re checking out a fic rec.

Wonderful sin from wonderful writers.Fanfic rec list 1 Fanfic rec list 2Frans fic rec list

And now I’ll tack on a few others:

Skeleton Code by @gallathegallaYou get a ukagaka Sans, but it turns out he’s more than just a program.  I love everything about this; G’s great. 

Love YourselfThis one is on one of the lists I linked, but I feel like it deserves way more kudos than it has.  Sans helps you through a variety of issues, and it can be really comforting.  Just pay attention to the tags, and check the chapter titles to find which one you’d like.  Never Walk Home AloneHorrortale Sans stalks you, and from the summary, I think he locks you up in his room.  Either way, count me in.  I haven’t read much of this one yet, but the premise is promising.

Send Help ASAPHorrorG!Sans.  I haven’t read this one yet, admittedly, but HORRORG!SANS.  That’s really all I need to know.

Remedy by @thefloatingstoneSansby fic where Grillby and Sans have just started dating, and when Grillby gets sick, Sans has to find the cure.  I highly recommend it; the characterizations are spot-on, and the insight into Grillby is fantastic.

Anything by @nihilismpastry.  I know I linked The Devil’s Brand of Humor in one of those lists, but just look through her Undertale fics because they’re sinfully good. (*NSFW warning)

Follow the Rules by @ladyanatares (NSFW)Reader/Mutt/Edge sandwich that I highly recommend. ;D

Bestiality by @sheewolf85  (NSFW)Frisk/Sans  – Horrorfell-ish AU where Sans is literally the monster under Frisk’s bed.  I loved the hell out of this one.  

ain’t this the life  (NSFW)Kustard smut with a really amazing characterization of both Sans and Red.  

Double Shot of Fireball (NSFW)Mutt/Reader, smutfic, and incredibly well-written.  I’ve read this one like five times, honestly.

Shiver Me Tinders (NSFW)A collection of Reader smut pairings, including Doggo, Grillby,  Red, Vegetoid, and Blueberry.  There was a Sans one, but I don’t see that chapter anymore??  Anyway, I can’t stress that you should read these enough.  Blueberry’s in particular is phenomenal.  

And, of course, you guys can browse through my bookmarks and see what else catches your eye.  A lot of them are ones I bookmark because I like their hook, but I haven’t gotten around to reading them yet.  

@melodytext44All the reverse harem stories I can recommend are in the Inspired By section at the end of my fic or in the Inspired By section at the end of 6S1M.  =]

I actually don’t know of any that have a strictly-male Reader, but Bones, Picked Clean by @skelezbian has a gender-neutral Reader, as does For some reason, you were expecting skeletons by @ut-stuff.  Both of them are fantastic stories. 

[nsharks]

candied ginger | simon “ghost” riley

words: 2715

plot: on the way home from getting groceries, simon starts touching you.

tags: fingering, vaginal sex, some fluff, “situationship” but he’s warming up to you, a line of breeding kink, fem!reader

Simon likes the strangest flavors of ice cream.

The ones that always took a few stores to find.

"No, no," he grumbles when he looks over the refrigerated selection. "They don't have it. It's not here."

You nibble at your cheek. "Babe, maybe you could just pick something else?"

He's already giving you a deadpanned look, hands slung deep in the pockets of his jacket. "I could die next month, pet. I'm gettin' that bloody ice cream."

Face twisting in a wince, you sigh, "Okay, we'll find it. Can you not say things like that? About you dying."

"Just a fact," he states gruffly, as if he really couldn't see how the statement might bother you. Sometimes Simon said things like that so casually that it made your stomach tie into a knot.

You find the ice cream he's looking for at the third store you try. Candied ginger. It's bizarrely specific, but the way he groans in relief and his eyes manage to light up, even for a moment, is enough to make the hunt worth it. You know in a month, he will be stuck with military ready-to-eat's.

Having Simon home for only a few months at a time meant you really cherished the small things. Like grocery shopping with him. He'd always push the cart, mask on and hoodie up, and you'd tease him about all the little kids he was scaring with his attire. The two of you always wrote the grocery list together, but you'd be the one to decide the route through the store and he'd follow behind right you. Of course, when you got home, he always insisted on carrying everything. All at once. Somehow managing to hold five or six bags of groceries at a time.

"Let me carry that," he would tut at you if you ever tried to grab one. "Before you drop it all."

You also cherished the drives with him.

So, when you're on the way back to his place, groceries and ginger ice cream in the trunk, you find yourself watching him intently. Simon's scent is heavy due to the close proximity- a natural musk mixed with bourbon and an ever-present hint of gunpowder. His hand rests on your thigh while he drives, somewhat possessively, with the pad of his thumb rubbing thoughtless circles.

He's got his hoodie on, but as he holds the wheel, the sleeve falls just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the swirls of ink and the veins running beneath them.

You'd never seen his face or his body fully, and yet you'd never been so attracted to someone.

"You're staring, pet."

He gives a small squeeze to your thigh.

Blushing, you place a hand over his.

He glances over at you briefly before looking back at the road.

"Christ, I love when that happens to ya," he says, his voice just a tad lower.

You blink. "What?"

"Your cheeks," he elaborates, "They get all red sometimes."

"They do?" you ask, and you're certain you can feel them getting redder, especially when he steals another slow, lidded look at you.

Simon hums out a yes. "Whenever you're embarrassed," he says, thinking to himself. "But also whenever you've been properly fucked."

Your cheeks turn into flames now and you don't have to peel off his mask to know that underneath, his face is impassive and unfazed. Meanwhile, your abdomen clenches and the car suddenly feels stuffy. His hand, warm and rough, rubs against your thigh and you shift around in the seat.

"Simon..."

He shoots you a look. "Don't tell me..." His hand inches down between your legs, slipping under the waistband of your sweats just so he can quickly touch your underwear. "No way, pet. You got wet just from that?"

Simon is mocking you. Teasing you. He huffs out an unimpressed breath and slips his hand back out.

He is fully aware of the effect his words have on you, and he revels in it.

"Got to work on your self-control," he drawls out, giving a few taps to your thigh.

The flare from your cheeks seems to travel to where his hand had just grazed over your underwear. Even though his touch only lasted a second, it was enough to make you hold your breath and press your hips against the seat, looking for some sort of friction down there.

Simon still isn't looking at you, focusing his gaze completely on the road, but his hand is still on your thigh and it seems to have its own mind. It grips and prods around your thigh, playing with the flesh of you like you're a stress ball of sorts, before he moves to cup you over your sweatpants.

The palm of his hand is big enough to cover the entirety of your cunt. He applies minimal pressure just to frustrate you, like toying a string in front of a cat, and you can't help but rock your hips into his hand to seek more.

"Fuck, Y/N, do you even listen?" he scolds instantly, and you imagine that's the voice he uses when he's speaking with his subordinates. "What did I just say about self-control?"

"M'sorry," you mumble. His hand pulls away from you for a long moment as a punishment. You let out the breath you were holding and wait for him to press it against you once more. This time, he applies more pressure, digging the heel of his hand into the spot where he knows your clit is hiding under the layers of fabric.

"Rock yourself against it," he orders quietly, never looking away from the road even when he hits a red light. "Use my hand, go on."

You are grateful for the permission. You begin to drag your hips slowly, rocking them so that your bud of nerves presses into the heel of his hands with each movement, the friction causing you to grow damper. It's such a familiar feeling. Your cunt lengthening within you, growing its own heartbeat, just to make you feel frustratingly empty all of the sudden. It's a feeling Simon manages to incite effortlessly.

"Good girl," he offers you a piece of praise, but it arrives in a thick and taunting voice.

You know that he knows you're starting to ache for him.

But he doesn't offer any comfort through your frustration other than leaving his hand in place for you.

"C'mon," he growls at the road, as if not paying any mind to the girl riding into his palm. "Bunch of slow fucks."

You want to yell at the cars yourself. The drive home takes longer than it normally does, and it feels like the universe is mocking you. As if to make matters worse, Simon finally slips his hand into your sweats, past your underwear, and glides a long finger slowly between your folds.

“Oh,” you breathe, screwing your eyes shut. You know he feels it. How terribly slick you are.

His fingers rub over your clit with the pressure he knows you like. You’ve been together (in this “situationship” of yours) for over a year now, and Simon has used each time you fucked as an opportunity to concentrate on what exactly makes you tick. He’s studied you like an enemy. Like a building he was preparing to stakeout. He knows now that, as much as you love your clit played with, you prefer to be filled and touched at the same time.

It’s when you grab your own breast over your shirt, imagining that it was his hand, that Simon concedes into giving you more.

“Greedy,” he says under his breath, finally looking at you for a moment because the sight of you touching your breast and palming it, your eyes fluttered shut, is driving him crazy.

He replaces the fingers on your clit with his thumb so he can ease two digits into you. He doesn’t bother giving you the time to stretch around them, knowing how slick and eager you already are. Rather, Simon shoves two of his fingers and elicits a throaty moan from you that makes his cock twitch.

“You like to have it all, don’t you?” He fucks his fingers into you, and you meet each movement with a buck of your hips.

You nod, eyes closed. “Are we… almost home?”

And by home, you meant his place, which you found yourself residing in whenever he was here.

Fingers still pushing into you, the squelching sounds of your approaching orgasm fill the car. Your hand is still touching your breast because it adds to the intensity of it all. If it wouldn’t compromise your lives, given the fact he was still driving, you might have asked him to reach over and play with it for you. Your small fingers and gentle touch didn’t compare to his rough hands.

“I’m not fuckin’ you when we’re home unless you cum on my fingers first,” he informs you. The words are enough to make your hips buck wildly, his thumb flicking over your clit. Simon is drowning in the sounds of it all. He thinks he is obsessed with making you writhe and squirm.

Your orgasm reaches you just when he pulls into the driveway. Your walls tighten then relax, a flood of warmth and wetness coating his fingers as you clamp a hand over your mouth and whimper into it.

“Good girl.”

Simon turns of the ignition. He presses his fingers into you slowly a few more times, helping you ride out the pleasure, before he draws them out and gives a proud tap to your cunt.

“Made a mess all over the seat,” he shakes his head, noticing how you’d soaked through your sweatpants.

He’s a bit gentler with you now. Instead of teasing and ordering you around, he gives a squeeze to your thigh before getting out of the car. You want to ask what he’s doing but your answer arrives in him coming around to your side, opening your door and picking you up. Limbs weak from your orgasm, you melt into his arms and press your head into his chest.

The gentleness ends when he pads into the house, kicking the door behind him, and takes you to his room. He tosses you on the bed, quite literally, and only stops to kick off his boots.

He’s feeling impatient himself. A whole car ride spent with his cock suffocating in his jeans.

“Take off your clothes. On all fours,” he tells you, and it’s an order you are quick to follow. Whenever he orders you around outside of the bedroom, you can’t stand it. You tell him he’s not your lieutenant, he can’t make you do everything he wants. But in here, when you’ve got your ass perched up for him, you are nothing but obedient.

You hear the clink of Simon’s belt and the shuffling of his jeans and briefs before he is inside you with one swift motion. You are filled to the brim and past it, your hands gripping the blanket. His hands first hold your hips in place, keeping your squirming to a minimum as he pounds into you. Your head squishes against the bed and you’re just barely able to steal a glimpse at him. He’s still clothed, as he usually prefers it, and his eyes are lidded and dark.

Simon had had sex before you. A few times, here and there. But he never actively sought it out, even when he was at a pub with his team and they’d try to encourage him into getting laid because “it’s so much better than your hand, Ghost”. He never agreed with them. Especially when he had such negative memories associated with it. Sex used to feel like a bit of a chore. A means to letting out his pent-up frustration and forcing himself to relax for the few seconds after he’d finish.

But with you, Simon finally realized what they’d all been talking about.

He’s able to relax with you, more and more each time. He’s able to enjoy every little reaction he gets from you. He’s obsessed with how he can just mention fucking you, and you’ll get all hot and needy for him. And although he’s never taken off all his clothes with you, because he’s not ready for you to see all the scars and faded bruises and ugly left-over wounds, he loves the little bit of skin-to-skin contact he does get.

Right now, it’s just his hips thrusting against yours ass. Cock surrounded by your warmth.

Simon finds himself marveling the way your soft ass fits into the shape of his hips. Fuck, were you made to fit right there? He moves his hands from your hips to your bum, palming and grabbing like he can’t touch you enough, before he moves to grab your hair with one hand and lift your head up from the pillow.

His mind had been sent into a frenzy during the car ride. Though he was good at hiding it with impassive eyes, Simon was just consumed by you as you were him.

He decides, as he runs his free hand up and down the length of your back, tummy, and thighs, that he really wants to feel more of you. Feel you in ways he doesn’t normally let himself feel you.

Maybe he’s getting more comfortable around you ever since telling you he cares about you.

Uncharacteristically, you feel his hands leave your body for a brief moment, making your feel cold in their absence. “What-“ you almost question him, but when you glance back, you realize that he is tugging off his hoodie.

He’s still got his cock in you. His thrusting doesn’t relent even as he surprises you by tossing his hoodie to the floor and moving to peel off the grey shirt he’d had on underneath. He’s undressing? You nearly moan out loud from the realization of it, not just because his newly revealed chest is thick and toned and inked with tattoos, but because this is a little glimpse in the trust you have built with him. Slowly, but consistently, Simon trusted you more and more.

Once his shirt is off, Simon reaches for you again. He wraps one burly, veiny arm around your body and lifts you up so you’re sitting on your knees. Now, his chest pressed into your backside and the warmth from his skin is instantly shared with you. This is the most skin of you’ve ever felt, bare and warm and surprisingly smooth despite the littering of scars.

“I’m going to cum inside you,” he murmurs in your ear. His arm holds you tight against his body, squeezing your breasts. The other arm of his wraps around to play with your clit. You’re close, too. The muscles of you tightening around him.

Simon finishes just before you do. He buries his masked face in your neck while the flood of his release fills you up and pushes you over the edge. You sigh pleasurably, sweat-tainted skin causing your hair to stick to your forehead and cheeks.

Moments pass before Simon is carefully laying both of you down, still not pulling out. His cock acts as a plug, keeping his seed inside you even as your bodies move to spoon each other on top of the blanket. He lifts up his mask just to plant a small kiss to your shoulder blade before he finally slips out of you, tucking his dick back in his briefs and zipping his jeans. He’s not completely naked. Still has his pants on, but you finally think maybe that could change soon.

“Don’t want to waste this,” Simon says, pressing his fingers to your cunt to keep the warmth from leaking out. It makes your cheeks flush and you melt into his bare chest.

You’re almost about to comment on his body. You want to tell him you think he looks beautiful, scars and all, but instead another thought enters your mind.

“Simon,” you gasp quietly. “The groceries. The ice cream.”

“Fuck.” He gives a little smack to your used cunt and sighs. “Well, I got it. You stay here… keep my cum in you, yeah?”

____

[solar-bean]

Death x Halloween Costume Red Riding Hood! Reader

( Reader is an artist/writer with extreme burnout )

( I really tried not to write this oneshot but goddammit he's got me intrigued 😫)

Halloween in Far Far Away was always a blast. Townsfolk filling the streets in their best tailored costumes, kids running about with candy and on the hunt for more. The weather was always the perfect temperature, too, with just enough chill in the air to wear heavily layered costumes without too much of a sweat. Which is why Y/n had adorned a long, beautiful, bright red hooded cloak over a simple, yet regal outfit. Unfortunately, their perfect look couldn't mask how shitty they felt.

For the past decade or so, they'd been one of the kingdom's most renowned creatives. Their works ranged from colorful illustrations, kids books, paintings, murals, YA novels and a few spicier adult novels that got much popularity to their embarrassment.

Needless to say they were a jack of many trades, and yet they've been able to create nothing for the past year and a half. Everyone had figured that the great artist was just taking a well needed break. Which was true for five months until they tried to make something and nothing happened. No spark. No idea. Nothing happened no matter what they tried or what medium they attempted to mold into something new and exciting.

It eventually lead to a depression that left them barley leaving the house, vowing not to do anything fun until they got an idea. Well until their entire friend group dragged them to this tavern's Halloween party in a costume that one of them conveniently had in their size. Yeah this was definitely a premeditated scheme to get their groove back. And as much as Y/n appreciated that they couldn't find the energy to leave the bar and join everyone else drunkenly dancing and singing on the dance floor.

Y/n sat in a big heap of silken red on the barstool looking down into their glass of Victorian Orphan Tears, a fruity drink made specifically for the holiday. They kept pondering on where their magic had gone. Had they used themselves up? Was this the end of their career? Would they have nothing else to show the world before they died?!

A few of their own tears were about to join the orphan's when they heard a soft whistle amongst the tavern band's melodies. Confused, they blearily glanced at their side to see a large, darkly hooded figure. They would've flinched if they had the energy to. No one had sat next to them all night due to the gloomy aura they'd been emitting. Yet here sat a mysterious stranger, who soon turned upon sensing their gaze, whistling halted. Y/n was met with the face of a white wolf. Wolves weren't uncommon in their society but something about those eyes jarred them. Those rich, blood red eyes. So bright that their costume couldn't dare be called red ever again. Y/n wasn't aware that they'd been locked in long moments of eye contact until the wolf leaned close enough that their noses almost touched. He made a soft but audible sniff.

" Mmm that smell..."

Y/n shivered at hearing the wolf's deep, gravely voice. It was all they could hear as if they weren't in a large room full of party-goers.

"...So sweet..."

"I..uh..what???" Y/n managed to mutter, slowly but surely pulling themselves back to the present reality, but the world aside from the wolf still remained blurry.

" Your drink."

They blinked. " Huh?"

" Your drink." He pointed at their glass. " It smells amazing. What is it?"

" Oh...Oh! My drink. Yeah uh this is Victorian Orphan Tears. It's a Halloween special drink."

" Hm, I'd better get one now before the night's over."

They nodded and looked back into their glass. Surely the wolf would would want to leave their gloomy presence and this was were the interaction would end. But no he stayed after his drink was served, enjoying three long sips.

" Mmm, that is as tasty as it smells. Glad I found an autumn drink without pumpkin spice in it. No offense if you're a pumpkin lover yourself, Little Red."

" Hm? Oh no offense at all. I've got nothing against the flavor but I can see how it can get overwhelming this time of year. There are other spooky flavors out there."

The wolf let out a light chuckle, pearly white fangs twinkling as bright as his fur.

" Yes exactly. I for one would love to see more cherries next halloween."

" Cherries?" Y/n snickered almost into a chuckle of their own, a rare reaction for them these days. " What's scary about cherries?"

The wolf grinned slyly.

" Well, there's nothing seemingly scary about them. So they usually get overlooked as a cute little fruit. But then you squeeze 'em just right into a glaze and they look just like blood. Even so you can't help but want to take a bite. Then you realize how good it is and can't get enough. By then your mouth's already stained red as if you did actually consume blood." he finishes, taking another sip of his drink.

" Wow, I guess cherries are a good fruit for Halloween." they say, taking sips from their drink as well.

" I'm surprised you hadn't considered it. You know with your costume and all. It's the perfect shade of cherry red just like the actual Little Red Riding Hood." he leans in a bit and whispers. " Though I'd steer clear of her tonight, I hear she's trying to copyright her likeness like Fairy Godmother did."

Y/n chokes a nearly spits out half their drink.

" Wait really?!" they panic looking around the room for a similar red hooded figure.

The wolf throws his head back in a guffaw.

" Oh man." he catches his breath. " I'm sorry. I just wanted to see how you'd react.

Y/n catches on and playfully punches his shoulder.

"You jerk, I thought I was in legal trouble for a second." they finally manage a full laugh.

" I know I know, but you seemed so down. Thought a good laugh might help. "

" Yeah. It did actually. Thanks."

They get caught once again into prolonged eye contact, now with something softer between them. The wolf is the first to break.

" Oh forgive me. I've been rude."

" What? No you haven't." they almost said ' you've been lovely ' but stopped themself in time before coming on too strong to a guy who was probably just making friendly small talk. They hadn't been looking their best lately and worried tonight wasn't an exception. Their friends' makeover only barely made their dark circles disappear.

" No but I have. I've been rambling on with you as if you're not here with someone."

Their brows shot up.

" U-uh. I'm not here with anyone. I mean! I am technically with my friends. So yeah in a way yeah." ' smooth real smooth Y/n.'

The wolf raised a brow, intrigued.

" I see. But you're not here with someone as a couples costume kinda thing?"

" No. Who would my partner come dressed as anyway?" they asked genuinely confused. ' What kind of pair would that be? Little Red & Granny? Cute and funny but not romantic partner material.'

The wolf stared intently, amused grin spreading.

" The Big Bad Wolf." he said in a low tone.

Y/n eyes widened with embarrassment. ' Oh God! I'm so stupid of course that would be it!!! ' Apparently self induced seclusion plus whatever magic charisma this guy had was enough to turn their mind to mush within a few minutes. Luckily the Tavern band's leader got everyone's attention on the mic.

" Hey hey how's everyone feeling tonight?!" a loud drunken applause came in response from the crowd. " Great cuz we're nearing the end of the night." a not so pleased ' aww' responded with one ' boo ' that Y/n hoped wasn't one of her friends. " Alright settle down, let's end the evening off with a slow but sensual number."

Soon enough the band filled the room with a tune that got the crowd coupling onto the dance floor. Some more sober than others but all having a good time. Y/n couldn't help the tinge of envy at seeing all of them so happy. But they were pleasantly surprised when they noticed the wolf extending a hand ( paw?? ) to them.

" I know it's a bit on the nose. But would you mind if I played the part of your wolf tonight?" he asked. His hood was off now, revealing cute slightly lowered ears that looked soft to the touch and ruby eyes filled a hint of vulnerability. How could Y/n say no to such an adorable face.

They smiled and took his hand. It was much colder than expected but still a little warm. His obsidian claws gently clutched the back of their hand, careful not to scratch.

" I wouldn't mind at all."

They joined the rest on the dance floor. His other hand pulled them in by their waist just enough to leave some space in-between them as they swayed to and fro. From the outside perspective they made quite the pair. Their cloaks flowed into a wonderful shade of red and black with every spin. Onlookers thought that the two were apart of a couples costume and hadn't just met. Y/n didn't notice any of them, even her friends who caught sight of them after not finding them at their stool. No Y/n didn't notice at all because they got lost in the wolf's red eyes again. Would any paint be vibrant enough to replicate its color?

" You know. You seem really familiar. Have we met before?" he asked, looking down at them while still taking the lead with ease.

" I would've remembered if we met before." those eyes were unforgettable, unless they were contacts, but his voice surely was real and no way in hell they'd forget it. " I've been in the newspaper a few times though." they said sheepishly.

" Wait...are you Y/n L/n?"

They nodded, kind of surprised that he guessed correctly that fast.

" Oh man I knew it! I love your work by the way. It's mesmerizing."

Y/n's pride and joy began to rise.

" Really?"

" Of course. You capture the radiance of life that most people overlook."

" Huh. I've never though of it that way. Thank you."

" No thanks needed. I'm merely speaking the truth. I'm glad that you're taking a break. You've done so much over the years."

Y/n's mood immediately dropped and they looked away, going back to the dark place they had been in not too long ago. The wolf caught on.

" Are you alright, Y/n?" he asked. They could clearly hear his concern. He deserved an honest explanation.

" I'm not taking a break," they admitted. " I'm stuck."

" Isn't that the same thing?"

" No. Breaks are by choice. This is different. I can't get out of this rut no matter how hard I try."

" Then don't try. Just don't make anything and let it come naturally."

" What? I can't do that."

" Why?"

They were starting to get really upset now. Why didn't he get it.

" Because I'd be letting everyone down." they met his gaze. Despite how much he seemed to not understand, his stare was serious and knowing.

" Wouldn't letting yourself down be more important?"

Y/n felt everything stop, realizations and questions coming in at once. It took them a while to notice that the music had stopped, everyone was getting ready to leave, yet the wolf held onto them until their thoughts settled.

" I think your friends are coming to get you." they followed his gaze behind them and sure enough, the gang was approaching. " If you're not busy later tonight. Come meet me by the woods. There's something I want to show you."

He kissed the top of their hand before letting them go and departing swiftly from the tavern like a shadow.

Y/n's group wanted all the details on the mystery wolf but were a bit too tipsy and tired to keep up. Y/n wanted to get everyone home safely, but the responsible parent friend of the group took charge. They heard the wolf's proposition and sent Y/n on their way to finally getting some action. But not before a stern talk about strangers, and safety and giving them a pocket dagger. Honestly Y/n could ask for better friends.

As promised. The wolf was waiting by the woods, cloak flowing in the wind. He smiled when saw them. He offered them a hand and they took it once again.

" I have a confession to make." he said as the two strolled through the forest.

" Yeah?" they couldn't help but stare at how the moonlight perfectly illuminated his fur. It was as if he was made for the night.

" I wasn't smelling your drink..."

Y/n stared at him confused and thought for a minute. It hit them once they saw the mischevious look in his eyes. Heat began to rise to their face. He chuckled at their dumbfounded look.

" The words slipped out before I could stop them so I tried to cover myself. To my luck the drink was sweet too."

" I can't believe you'd sniff a total stranger." they palmed their face with their free hand that had been chilled by the night air.

" Well technically I didn't have to try. My nose is pretty strong. Though I will admit there was some conscious effort. People with scents of life like yours due tend to catch my attention."

" Scents of life?" they asked as the wolf took the lead in front to guide them through a narrow path of trees.

" Yes. It's a bit complex but I'd describe it as a mix of sunflowers, lilies and tulips but," he glanced back at them," yours has an extra hint of vanilla, very soft and sweet."

The heat that had started to fade came back with full force to Y/n's face. They weren't wearing anything that smelled like that. There's no way they'd have a natural scent like it either.

" That's nice but I doubt I smell like that."

The wolf let go of their hand to jump down a sizable dip in the path.

" Trust me you do." he held out his arms to them. Although unsure at first if he could support their weight, they soon jumped down. Once caught, the wolf held them close to his chest, gaze deep and grin wide. " You possess the sweetness of life that I adore dearly."

There was no doubting his truthfulness with the look in his eyes and softness of his voice. Y/n was content enough in the moment that they wished it lasted longer but he put them down and lead the way again.

" Unfortunately it's starting to fade away. Which is why I've brought you here."

Before they could ask they saw the answer in front of them. They were on a small cliff and beyond it was the expanse of the forest with a valley in the center. Y/n was already entranced by the breathtaking view before they noticed light begin to peek over the horizon.

" Ah we're just in time." said the wolf at their side, leaning against a tree arms folded.

The sun slowly rose, chasing away the dark. The valley began to wake with a new life, colors coming forth as flowers bloomed. With the sun came warmth as well, getting rid of the chill that Y/n had gotten use to. They weren't sure how long they stood there, but birds started to sing as the night turned to morning. It was all so beautiful that they wanted to find the words, write the words and maybe even paint them, but as usual nothing came.

" You see Y/n. I think I know what's got you stuck," the wolf began, Y/n had almost forgot he was there. " You began creating things for the enjoyment of yourself. Those creations then became joy for others. But as time went by, you started to only create to make others happy. To fit their expectations. You used up more of yourself than most people do in their lifetimes. Am I making sense for far."

They nodded, still unable speak.

" It's a frustrating dilemma. Frightening even. But take the sun for example," he gestured to the light that was now brighter than before," It's a creator too. It's light gives way for all sorts of life to prosper. Yet at times it can be too much for some to handle. Or perhaps a few clouds get in the way and it's light can't shine through. And in moments like this, it creates little things that most wouldn't know to appreciate. Even so, the sun doesn't care. It travels across the sky shining endlessly."

He walks up to them, places a hand on their face and wipes away tears they hadn't noticed were falling.

" You need to create for yourself. Whether you feel its good enough or not I'm sure people will love it. And if not, you'll have more than enough love for it. Just go easy on yourself and take your time."

" But...what if I'm running out of time?" their voice came out quiet and shaky.

The wolf continued to hold their face. He held a gaze so caring that they wanted to melt into him.

" Don't worry. You're not going anywhere any time soon."

While Y/n almost took that assurance as normal, wanting to remain in the bliss of the moment, something was different about it. In fact everything felt different about him. Wait who the hell was he anyway?!

" Who are you?"

His smile dropped into a frown, as if he wanted to stay in the bliss of the moment as well. But this was reality and they deserved the truth.

" I'm Death."

There was a long moment of silence, both remained still. As if reading their mind he continued.

" Yes seriously. And no I'm not messing with you this time."

Y/n managed to find their composure.

" Wow uh...nice to meet you."

" Hah, you're taking this well."

" Not sure how else I'm supposed to take it. Might freak out later though."

He laughed again. His hands had traveled down to theirs without them knowing. They didn't mind. They found comfort in them despite now knowing why they were so cold for someone with fur.

" That's very kind of you. It's always nice having some be calm around me. Though I'm sure you know that I mean you no harm."

" Yeah," they smiled up at him, " You've helped me a lot actually. I think my spark's returning."

" Good," he let them go, going back a few steps, " Then my work here is done."

" Wait!" they grab his hands. " You're leaving?"

Death's shock of their suddenness then turned to a saddened look.

" Yes. I've already interfered more than I should. It would be best if I go now. I'm sorry. I was really having a lot of fun with you."

" Then stay a little longer." they pulled him in closer. " Please?"

" I..." he hesitated, pondering over something he knew he shouldn't. " I'll always be around so I could come visit when I can."

Y/n beamed with joy.

" That would be great. I look forward to it." though they couldn't help but push further. " But are you sure you can't stay a little longer right now?"

Death thought on it. He knew he should say no. He'd already been taking too long of a break. But their eyes were pleading to him and their hands were so warm. The souls of the dead weren't going anywhere he supposed, but it'd be a lot of overtime.

" I guess, but on one condition."

" Anything."

He regained his signature sly grin and leaned in closer.

" I want to be the first one to see what you create next."

They gave him a warm smile in return.

" I'd love to. I think I'm writing mood right now."

" Oh?," Death's ears perked up and his tail wagged a bit. " I hope it's another novel then."

" Huh, I didn't peg you for the YA type."

" Yes I like those too but I was thinking of your other ones."

" What other o-" then it hit them. " No..."

Death grinned, fangs and all.

" Yes."

" No. Oh no! You read those?!" they put their flaming face in their palms, silently cursing their friends for convincing them to publish those spicy books. " Oh god I could die right now."

Death laughed and pulled them into his chest, giving comforting pats on the back.

" Sorry that won't be happening anytime soon. And I'm having too much fun with you anyway."

That morning Y/n went from someone who feared Death to someone who welcomed him. They learned surprising things about him as well. Like how his fur was so soft, he liked to be scratched behind the ears and he tasted oddly of cherries.

[herstarburststories]

Marry me in the battlefield (Dean Winchester x reader)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean decides to propose you in the midst of a hunt.

A/N: This one had been on my dash for very long. Plus, y'all still know Dean, right? That man couldn't propose like a usual man, take a look at this perfect timing. So, did it work? Perhaps.

Warnings: mentions of violence, Dean trying to propose and then act nonchalantly about it????, so much fluff but not really corny I think, unbeta'd

Your hair is a mess, your clothes were ripped, and you carry a knife like a purse. Still, you smiled.

Your smile is stained with red, an unwilling gift given by the vampires that you had killed a couple seconds ago. It is there, the joy of getting the job done tangled with subtle rush of relief for finding a way to blow some esteem. Also, saltered with a secret, quiet pleasure for violence and being in power, somehow even pure because you are fighting an evil thing, so you must be the good part of the deal, the hero-- it feels almost religious. And since Chuck's hand is used to write your stories, maybe it really is.

Anyway, Dean knows those emotions very well. The surprise stokes him when he recognizes them on your face, moonlight shinning on you as if its only mission is to give you light to search in the dark for more monsters. Lisa understood job, but you understand what exactly comes with it. Not only the anxiety, not having a home for too long, or the fact that there are guns hidding in every inch of places you stay for a couple hours.

You understand the thrill, the necessity to keep going, how the blood in your hands is never going to be washed, so you might as well make it worth it.

And you smile. You smile as if it was a romantic date and you couldn't wait to kiss him. You smile as if this is a good routine. You smile as if you are excited to crumble into a random restaurant and eat food that will kill you from inside.

And Dean knows you mean all of it. You want this life, you want him. You love how it goes.

Therefore, it's no shock when the words leave his lips, "Marry me."

Sam stops on his tracks, holding a vampire's head as a football ball; he is surprised, and so are you. Ok, this specific moment might be unsettling for normal people, but what would be more fitting than that for you two?

You frowned, unsure of your own ears, "What?"

"I said, marry me."

Dean isn't into sappy moments, but there is a lot of sweet words fighting to leave his mouth now. Tell her you love her, she is the only who gets you, you will never leave her, you want everything with her, you picture yourself happy with her.

Sammy knows he should put the decapitated head away, he needs to make a pile before burning all of the bodies. He remains on his place, though. Watching the scene happen in front of his eyes, the tall man who became your best friend knows your answer before yourself. His lips curve into a grin, besides the situation.

Your heart is soaked into adrenaline, and your veins are boiling. You imagined hunting was the wildest drill that one could ever experience, and then Dean Winchester showed up and claimed a spot in your life as if it was always his to take.

You giggle, and the giggle develops into a chuckle. And Sam is trying really hard not to laugh. And maybe you should too because you look like a maniac, also you can taste a bit of the vampire's blood on your tongue while you burst into a laughter, but you can't contain yourself.

Dean watches you with knotted eyebrows and midlly open mouth, his head slightly tilted foward; he is confused. You have to started talking soon before his tricky mind starts making him doubt about this decision.

"No way you are escaping this chick flick moment, cowboy." You placed your hands on your hips. You didn't care about the usual corny couple's behavior, but you needed to sort a few things before getting engaged, "You are a arrogant son of a bitch. But somewhat you are also a selfless idiot who doesn't have think twice before taking a bullet for someone. You are stupid, but you are one of the smartest men that I know. Don't even try me with that. You rebuilt the impala more times than Chuck created worlds, you are the best when it comes to patterns and your brain is almost a library for every supernatural creature that has ever pit their feet on earth. Plus, you can understand Bukowski. You are so strong, and you keep fighting no matter what. When I want to stop, you always keep me going and I'm so thankful you are in my life, you sttuborn idiot. You can be a bitch with yourself sometimes, especially when it comes to happiness. You were taught to be responsible for everyone's well-being, and you found a way of doing that by ignoring your own boundaries. Well, Dean Winchester, you can take care of the world and everyone who is in it as much as you want, but I will take care of you."

You speak everything that you showed through acts and some smaller words before. Dean blinks his green eyes twice, a bit disoriented by the amount of love that drove over him like a train. You aren't asking anything from him-- if anything, he is the one asking you to marry him.

Dean can barely contain the happiness that tickles his tired bones. Combat boots stepping next to a deceased monster, rough hands adding another scar to the collection, and forehead slight bleeding— he smiles at you, and you can't tell a time he has looked prettier.

You don't mind about him not speaking his heart out in a supernatural roncom way, you know he will say secret little things in your ear in the night.

"Is... That is..." He has to make sure, although the look on your face speaks enough.

"Yes? Of course yes! Who else would propose me in the middle of a massacre?" You tease, squinting your eyes. Dean can't help but chuckle. He haven't felt this tense, then light, and ultimately free in years. And all because of you.

He has you. He has Sammy. What else could he ask for right now?

"Maybe I should've waited until dinner?" Dean steps closer to you, his hands quickly finding their way wrapped around your waist.

Your mimic his move around his neck, eyes glued with his, "No way. We met just like that, in a hunt. It's just fitting that we get engaged like that, too."

"I love you." He doesn't usually say that, especially in front of his baby brother.

"I love you too." Finally, your lips crash together for a few moments. It's gentle, loving even, the hunger is saved for later. Sam would've make disgusted noises and told you two to get a room in any other ocassion. Today, he just watches with a proud smile on his face; Dean is happy. You break the kiss, still intertwined on each other when you scrunch up you nose, tilting your head to look at your brother-in-law, "Are we crazy?''

He scoffs, "Completely."

Later, Dean will proclaim the aleatory restaurant's meal as your dinner rehearsal. Sam is going to say that he can't believe you two are really getting married, and you will tease it's just because you always liked the Winchester name. Dean would huff and say, with a wryly tone, that nothing is better than a W target, and you will steal a French fries to keep those thoughts away from his mind. Sammy will ask about a place, his brother is going to say Las Vegas, only to be resorted with Mexico because you need a beach wedding-- and since the boys have never been to any water other than rivers and lakes, it's perfect. The guest list may be small, but enough to get all family.

But for now, you two needed to incinerate some vamps.

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[apocalypticwafflekitten]

Sweet Surprises

Gabriel x F!Reader 

A/N: This is a prequel to Sweet Heart-to-Heart! I had this idea for how the two initially met and I wanted to write it out!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: Sam and Dean need help on a case and you find your own way to help them - even if that means going behind their backs.

Warnings: I tagged this as fem!reader because the Trickster calls the reader a lady once. Other than that it’s pretty gender neutral! Other than that, nope!

Word Count: 1.8k

When you opened the door to Crawford Hall, you were surprised to find dim lights and, well…romantic music playing, if you could call it that. It was a specific genre of cheesy “sexy” music that made you cringe. The lyrics made you want to run right out of the building - intentions for coming here be damned. But you were determined to talk with the trickster, so you crept down the hall, following the sound of the music, hoping that it would lead you to the man you were looking for.

The music’s trail led you to the auditorium which was bathed in red light. The “sexy” music blared louder, grating against your ears. You didn’t even notice the bed, nor the two ladies on the bed, at first. But once you recovered from the initial shock and adjusted to the music, your face grew warm, noticing the beautiful women and their suggestive lingerie.

“Hello ladies?” You asked, thoroughly confused, offering an awkward wave their way.

They looked surprised, like they’d been taken off guard. They gave each other a confused look, having a silent conversation for a few seconds before shrugging to one another and turning back to you.

“Hello” the blonde said with a smile, “what brings you here tonight?”

“Well, I was looking for the janitor, but I seem to have walked in on something. I’ll just uh…go.”

But before you could even turn to leave, a voice rang from behind you, startling you out of your confusion.

“Well hello there, pretty lady. I’m afraid I was expecting someone else, my apologies,” You whipped around to look at whoever was speaking. He was wearing what looked to be a custodial uniform, sporting a curious look and quirk to his brow, “Who might you be?”

You shouldn’t have been thinking about it, but you couldn't help but notice his caramel hair that had little glints of gold shining along the strands when the light hit right. You shouldn’t have been paying attention to the warm color of his eyes, or the shape of his face. You shouldn’t have noticed the shape of his lips - shouldn’t have even looked at them period. But alas, here you were, taking everything in in the span of milliseconds. Maybe a few milliseconds too long even.

You gave him your name, “I’m a friend of the Winchesters. They called me to help with the case. I wanted to talk with you.”

To say he was intrigued would be an understatement. You said you were a friend of the Winchester’s which meant that you were likely a hunter like them. And if you spent any amount of time hunting with them, then he’d expect you to be just as trigger-happy as they were. But here you were, asking to talk. Just talk.

He gave you a skeptical look, popping a chocolate into his mouth as he leaned against the stage. “Now why would you want to do that?”

You sighed, resting your hands in your jacket pockets, praying this would go over easily, “Look, I know you’re the trickster. You’ve been around for every one of these weird accidents and all our evidence points to you. I just want to talk.”

He shrugged, giving you a slow round of applause, “Well, I guess there’s no use in hiding it now. You’ve hit a home run sugar. So, what exactly do you wanna talk about?”

You took a deep breath, fidgeting your hands in your pockets, “Listen, I don’t want to kill you if I don’t have to. My brothers, they’ll kill you without so much as a second thought; they’re very ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda people. Personally, I’m not huge on that, so if I can convince you to leave town and lay low for a while so we don’t have to kill you, I’d rather take that option.” You insist.

He nodded, taking your answer in, “Real quick: Do the bros know you’re here?”

“No,” you respond, “And as much as I’d love to sit and chat, they’re gonna be here soon, if they’re not already on their way, so I suggest we make this quick.”

He nodded and turned to pace in front of you, thinking over his options.

“So why are you telling me all of this? You say you’re a friend of the Winchesters which means you probably hunt monsters and creatures like me as well. Why go behind their backs to give me an out? Why not kill me?”

“Like I said, I don’t like killing if I don’t have to. I don’t really like killing all that much to begin with, so if I can talk with whatever we're hunting, I usually take that option. Seeing as I can talk with you, reason with you, I’d rather do that than get unnecessary blood on my hands.”

He gave you a look, a scrutinizing one that tried to piece together how, or why a hunter - especially one associated with the Winchesters - would give him a chance like this. It baffled him.

“Hmm. That’s odd to hear from a hunter.”

You give him a dry, huffed laugh, “Yeah, well, I’m not your average hunter.”

“So I see,” he responds, summoning a red sucker as he came to stop his pacing right in front of you, “One question though: what happens if I skip town and just start killing again?”

“The brothers will hunt you down again. That’s why I was hoping to convince you to lay low for a while or stop killing altogether.”

“And if they do hunt me down again? If I don’t stop killing?” He countered.

You give him a shrug, “I can only keep them from killing you so many times. I’m trying to give you a chance to avoid death, but if you decide to throw that away then that’s on you.”

“Gotcha.” He answered with a pop of his sucker, “so, how long are we talkin’ for laying low?”

You couldn't stop your eyes from falling to his lips even if you’d tried, but they darted back up to his eyes near instantly, “A few months. Maybe a year or so.”

He smirked, “Alrighty Sugar, how about this: I leave and lay low for around a year. You won’t hear or see a thing from me for that year, and in return I ask for one thing.”

It was your turn to give him a skeptical look. You crossed your arms and quirked a brow, “And what’s that?”

He smiles at you with something mischievous glinting in his eyes, “All I ask…are your favorite candies.”

“My favorite candies?” You ask, shock, then confusion contorting your face, “Why would you wanna know that?”

He responded with what was likely the millionth mischievous smirk of the day, “You’ll see.”

You were still a little skeptical, but nonetheless listed your favorite three sweets for him, all the while wondering what in heaven’s name he would want with that information.

“Alrighty Sugar, I’ll keep those in mind and—

Your phone rang, playing the opening riff of “Thunderstruck”.

“Fuck, that’s Dean.” You scrambled to answer your phone, “Sorry, gimme a sec.”

The trickster watched as you talked with Dean. He couldn’t help but watch the way you paced as you listened to whatever Dean was saying over the phone, nor could he get the image of your eyes out of his head. There was something in your gaze that dug deeper than his surface. It was like they could look directly past all the walls he had put up over the last millennia and see what was really hiding behind all the smirks and jokes and teasing. And for some reason, instead of that scaring him like it should, it made him want to ask you how. How could you know that there was more to him just by looking at him? Did you even know that your eyes were looking that deep? Maybe he was reading too much into the soft eyes of a compassionate hunter, but maybe, just maybe he wasn’t.

“Alrighty, see you at Crawford Hall in twenty minutes.” Your voice jolted him back to reality. It really didn't help that on top of your soulful eyes and beautiful body you also had a voice that just…it sounded right to him. He could pick it out in a crowd of a thousand people easily.

“I take it that’s my cue to leave?” He asked, sounding a little hesitant.

“Yeah, I’d say so. I’ll cover for you once you go. Don’t worry.” You gave him a reassuring smile and a warm look.

He nodded, a genuine smile on his face this time, “Thank you for the warnin’ sugar. I’ll see you in about a year.”

And with that he, the girls, the bed, and the music were gone.

You sighed. There was a part of you, deep down, that was disappointed to see the trickster go. He’d been interesting, curious, even a little charming (not to mention that he was a handsome fellow). You were curious about him too. You wanted to get to know him more; ask him questions, ‘pick at his brain’ so to speak. But there was one silver lining at least: you knew that you’d get to see him again in a years’ time, and that put a smile on your face.

You waited for Sam and Dean to show up, stakes at the ready, but when they got to the auditorium, all they found was you and an empty stage.

“What the hell happened? Did you gank the guy? He’s supposed to be here.” Dean asked, frustration clear in his voice.

“I don’t know,” you lied, “He’s just gone. There was no sight of him when I got here. Maybe he caught wind of us and skipped town?”

“Maybe.” Dean grumbled. He sighed, pausing for a second, “Alright. Let’s do a sweep of the place to make sure he’s gone. Then we can head back to the motel.”

~~~

When you got back to the motel that night, you threw your keys and purse on your bed. When you did so, a crinkling, plastic noise caught your attention. Looking back to where you had thrown your keys and purse, you found a large bag of each of the candies you’d mentioned to the trickster arranged on your bed. There were even some other sweets that you hadn’t mentioned, all framing a thank you card. You smiled, laughing a little to yourself before sitting on the bed and opening the card. You were surprised at how neat the handwriting was:

“I’m glad I got to meet you today Sugar. I hope you like the candies. I threw in a couple of my favorites as well as a thank you for saving my hide. I hope I get to see you again in a year’s time. Until then stay sweet, and keep asking questions before you shoot!

Your new friend,

The Trickster”

You smiled, folding the card and placing it in your bag before opening a bag of Mini M&Ms that he’d left. You shoveled a handful into your mouth as you thought of the trickster, making a silent promise to see him again next year.

~~~

Tags!

@justalittletomato @fanficsforheartandsoul

[ventiskies]

When he rejects you | Chongyun, Scaramouche, Albedo

a/n: hello friends!! i apologize for my somewhat disappearance TwT im currently having exam season but i couldnt help but write something for my favorite three (and yes, scara is there... and honestly, I don't know when I started simping for him either but you can now call me a future scaramouche haver >:)) so not a request, but do enjoy !! <3 (apologies if there are any errors!!)

pairing: chongyun x gn! reader, scaramouche x gn! reader, albedo x gn! reader (platonic)

Chongyun

★ Chongyun, Xingqiu and you had been best friends since you were kids. And although you were a trio, you and Chongyun had always known each other much longer.

★ If your life were a book, it would be a sweet childhood best friends growing up together genre, something that often piqued Xingqiu’s interests when he drags the two of you to Wanwen bookhouse

★ The books you had borrowed from Xingqiu about them all ended with the same thing; that they end up becoming a couple and growing up together. Reminiscing about their childhood youth when they were old.

★ You knew not to trust the books or use them as a guide, but just like the books, you had grown to fall in love with the icy-haired boy.

★ Chongyun was like a breath of fresh air. His determination in exorcising ‘evil spirits' to the point that he blindly falls for Xingqiu and your pranks were the things that you loved about him. He was filled with enthusiasm and positivity (literally).

★ You grew into enjoying his positive attitude, you couldn't imagine a day going by without Chongyun telling you and Xingqiu about a so called 'haunted' place he had found, and forcing the two of you to come with him. and even if it had ended without meeting a single spirit, he would still be in high spirits.

★ you loved it, seeing the rush of thrill he feels whenever he senses a spirit nearby, hoping the spirit was able to withstand his excessive yang energy. the repeating days without one successful exorcism, only to end up getting treated to a meal by Xingqiu, and the parting that always ends with a promise to see each other the day after. Chongyun speaks his emotions, and you were in love with that.

★ and him, just in general.

★ And one day, you had decided to tell him just that

★ You were both on the hunt for Jueyun chilies for Xiangling, a small commission that you had decided to take on while waiting for Xingqiu to finish his work at the guild. The sun had set, and you had returned from Qingce village with a bucket full of the chilies and had decided to rest on top of the mountain where you had both Waypointed to just to admire the sunset.

★ In the heat of the moment, you had spoken.

“I like you, Chongyun,” you had said, looking at him with a smile.

★ You would have accepted a silence. You had expected it to be like the books; he would gently laugh and look at you, admitting that he had been waiting for you to say the exact words, lean in to kiss you. It would be awkward at first, but it’ll also be something to look back to in the future when kissing becomes something you do every day. You’d return back to Liyue Harbor hand in hand, and be able to tell Xingqiu and Xiangling that he was your boyfriend now, and admit to the former that maybe his books were right.

★ But instead, you were met with Chongyun’s wide eyes staring at you. His cheeks flushed red with what you had tried hard to hope was shyness, but had appealed more like panic. He had stood up and cleared his throat

“We- we should get back,” he says, too quickly for someone as calm as he is. And you knew it was a wrong step, “I’m-,” he clears his throat, “I’m going to go ahead first. I'm sorry,”

★ You didn’t know if he was apologizing for leaving early, or for not being able to accept your feelings, but when you hadn't seen him the following day, you could only assume.

Scaramouche

★ Honestly, you had it coming for you.

★ Scaramouche is someone whose life is their job. There was nothing that could distract him from working for the Tsaritsa

★ You had (been self-entitled) as his best friend. And honestly, if Scaramouche knew of it, he doesn't blame you. Everyone in the Fatui and who worked under the Fatui knew how close you were. Which was odd because, for one, you were absolutely nothing like him. Although you weren't exactly liked by everyone, you weren't loathed by everyone like the sixth harbinger was.

★ Scaramouche was feared by anyone who hears his name or walks a foot away from him, while you carried a calmer aura. Without glancing, Scaramouche could bring his subordinates trembling, while they would greet you when you pass by them.

★ You were polar opposites, and yet, everyone has seen the two of you together so much that when he wasn't with you or the other way around, people would assume you were on a solo mission or just leaving the other’s quarters

★ Of course, being his best friend, you weren’t spared of his usual harsh words. As a matter of fact, you probably had it much worse than anyone else. It had almost seemed as if every time he spoke, he spoke like he was trying to get rid of you.

★ But if that really were the case, then he hasn’t been trying his best. You had stayed with him since you had become an ally to the Fatui, and ever since then had stayed by his side. When others shake in fear, you shake your head with a laugh and a retort.

★ It had even come as a surprise to you when you had realized you had fallen for the harbinger. You would think that spending time with such a foul-mouthed person who would murder someone in the blink of an eye with no hesitation would make you dislike him. But that didn’t happen.

★ In fact, it was quite the opposite. You had fallen in love with him.

★ It wasn’t obvious to anyone, and even you had to take the time to squint to look for it. But Scaramouche did care for you in his own way. Whether it be toning down the harsh words when he sees your mood dampen after a mission, or beating the shit out of a person who had attacked you ruthlessly, not stopping even after his hands were covered in crimson liquid and the person almost certainly died. Even if he calls you a hindrance afterward for dirtying his hands, he definitely thought of you the same as you thought of him.

★ A friend.

★ Or, you had hoped, something more.

★ It was a mistake to take his slight kindness as a sign of him liking you, it truly was.

★ During your journey to Inazuma for a mission, you had decided to confess to him out of the blue. You knew he was someone who could predict the outcome of something even before you said anything, so a slow confession when the sun was setting in a field of flowers would just be a waste of time. if there was something you learned, it's to cut to the chase with him.

“Hey Scara,” you had said quietly. He had replied with a low hum, not turning back to look at you, “I like you.”

★ Without a second thought, Scaramouche had taken you by surprise as well.

★ He had not stopped in his tracks, instead, his shoulders shook in laugher. His laugh wasn't the same laugh you hear whenever you make a stupid mishap or get slightly injured during a simple mission- no, those laughs were warmer. Although laced with unkindness, they were more familiar.

★ This one was condescending. As if you were a new recruit again, having to work under him. As if all those years as friends had just gone down the drain.

“Stupid. What a fool of me to assume you were different.” he says, voice clear as a bell in the night, “don’t be an inconvenience. I don't have time for people like you.”

Albedo

★ Ever since working under Albedo with Sucrose, your life had been nothing but full of wonder. Although some were dangerous, Albedo and you bonded easily as if you had worked together in a past life.

★ Albedo was a genius. He was someone you looked up to, and sometime during your investigations, he had become a friend. You didn't know when it started. When it had gone from two alchemists staying the night in Dragonspine to observe the different stages of new plant growth, to- with the permission of the acting grandmaster - just two people, two friends, going out to explore the seven nations.

★ Sucrose and Timaeus had stayed back in Mondstadt to finish experiments that you both had decided to put on hold for your trip, and with nothing to worry about, the two of you had gone out with nothing but the protection of each other (and your visions, of course), and a few packed meals from Good Hunter.

★ Albedo had a side that no one saw unless they spent nights camping with him in the middle of nowhere. You were one of the lucky people who were able to see that side of his during your trips around the seven.

★ The alchemist wasn't just curious about the way the world works, he had also been curious with, well, you.

★ Some nights when he couldn't go to sleep (which was often. You’d be surprised to see how messed up his sleep schedule was), he would sit in front of the fire you had both worked hard to make, and simply talk.

★ sometimes, it would be short conversations. but more than often, you find yourself talking about everything and nothing until the sun rose above the mountains, and you would have to continue your journey until one of you (usually being you,) were too tired to continue.

★ Albedo talks with passion, no matter what the topic is. He could be talking about what you were going to be having for dinner for the next night before you reach the first region in your trip, and he would already have you captivated.

★ Albedo also talks with gentleness. And this was the said side not a lot of people would be able to see from the chief alchemist. Whenever the tent was filled with comforting silence, you would be able to hear Albedo asking you questions about yourself. They weren’t your standard, what was your dream growing up? Kind of questions, but they were more specific. More… personal.

★ Is it not funny, how life works? What if a single moment had changed in the past, I and you wouldn't have met. He would question, eyes trained to the flames burning in front of him. It sounded rhetorical, but his tone was laced with wonder. He sounds as if he was expecting an answer, but he doesn't urge you for one. And every time he does, you merely hum.

★ Albedo was gentle in everything he did. Almost all the time you were with him, he had never acted brashly. He was patient, kind.

★ and that was most likely what had prompted your crush on the alchemist

★ crushing on Albedo was like looking up at the stars. he was someone who shined brightly, but you knew he was too far to reach, yet despite that, you had still attempted to.

★ you had decided to finally let it all out on him the night of your final stay before you reached your final region, which was Inazuma.

★ and that, you had realized a little too late, had been the icing on top of a really terrible cake.

"Albedo," you had stared, and the alchemist immediately turned towards you. that was something you had grown fond of. you knew Albedo was a man married to his work, so when he turns to you in the midst of it, you felt your stomach churn in delight, "I have to tell you something,"

“Hm?” he hums, setting his notepad down to give you his full attention, “what is it, y/n?”

★ You took a deep breath, and the moment you had opened your mouth to tell him, you had a sinking feeling you had made a huge mistake.

“I like you, a lot,” you muttered, “not just platonically, Albedo. I… I think you're really interesting. and if you'd like, I would love to be with you. ”

★ Albedo’s face had fallen, and although it had been the slightest, you had still noticed it. He looked at you as if the cogs were turning in his brain, and finally, he looks down

“I must apologize,” he starts, and you feel your stomach drop, “but I’m not interested in you that way, y/n. If it makes you feel better, I see you as a very dear friend,”

★ You nod, apologizing to Albedo before he offers a small smile before continuing his research

★ You both did not speak of it, but there was a very thick air of silence hangs over the two of you afterward, that didn't dissipate even after you both left the camp.

[rcksmith]

Spring breeze part.4 — Spencer Reid

Icon by @obiwansjedi

Part.1 Part.2 Part.3

Sumarry: After the breakup, Spencer and the Reader follow different paths and lives. But, after 8 years, Gideon's death brings an avalanche of emotions, putting the two face to face again in a reencounter that could break their hearts again — season 10 —

Couple: Spencer Reid /Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: mention of death, mention of violence, death of the father, depressive thoughts, murder, crying, swearing, a lot of anguish, mention of love, fluff (but it has a very fluff too, I'm not a monster)

Word count: 5k.

A/N: This is the most sad chapter that has, I promise that the next will be very cute.💖

I saw Gideon's death episode again to make it as faithful as possible for you guys. I used the original Criminal Minds chronology too, being 8 years from Gideon's last appearance until his death.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

Hunting bandits. Save people. Improve the world a little bit every day. Those were the three things Spencer believed it was worth to be at BAU. It was worth fighting for, holding on, staying sleepless for days, being haunted by murderers by day and nightmares at night. For what it was worth looking at the abyss, even when it looks to you

Reid could deal with human perversion, with the thousand and one ways to practice heinous crimes, the sowing of evil and cruelty. He could cope with constantly being inside insane minds, learning his whys and mechanisms. He could take it. He put up with it day after day, case after case. He endured being tortured, stay being held at gunpoint, having a piece of his essence plucked with red-hot iron month after month. Spencer knew he could handle it.

But he couldn't handle death. Goodbye. It shattered his soul far more than difficult cases, pushed his own sanity to the limit. Perhaps burying his feelings as deeply as possible was just a method of delaying the wave that would drown him at one time or another. Inevitably.

Each farewell took a piece of Reid away. His father, his mother, Ellie, you, Gideon, JJ, were just a few of the people who left, living their lives elsewhere. But what about those who died? The victims, the children, Hayley, Maeve, Emily (even if only for a short time) and so many others. These took much more than a piece of him. Maybe costu his whole soul.

Spencer felt himself harden over the years, the cases, loss after loss, day after loss. He felt the purity of his own heart slip through his fingers like sand, the faith in humanity to be put to the test. Sometimes even faith in himself.

Was that the price to pay for that job? Being constantly vulnerable? See his life and the lives of the people his loved most at gunpoint?

It was worth?

Maeve's death shook him more than any other, sucking all the pink glow from his world, leaving him with only the cold feeling of hopelessness. A very deep void. It took a long time for memories of she not to hurt like red-hot iron, for his breathing not to be heavy. It took a long time to be happy again.

And when Spencer felt healed from the deepest wounds, the most visceral pains, he was hit again. Deeply. If Maeve's death was a wave that brought him down, Gideon's death was the tsunami that destroyed him.

“It's Gideon.” Hotch's voice confirmed the fear of everyone in that cottage.

Then Spencer felt shattered. Torn apart. Torn like a rag doll and placed on the fire. He wanted to scream, to scream so loudly that he would never regain his voice. He wanted to break something, destroy some, run away.

But run away from whom? From what? That pain or himself? If Spencer had been able to tear off his own skin at that time and be someone else, he would not have hesitated. Not having dropped to his knees in that cottage was a miracle, because Spencer no longer knew what was holding him upright.

Jason Gideon, in many ways, was all that Spencer had. He knew that they took different paths and traveled different roads, living different lives, but he believed that they always end up on the same, even one they was old. Spencer was sure that if he was dying on his knees, Gideon would be to rescue him. For all those 8 years, it was extremely comforting to think that Gideon was out there, living life, finding the hope he had in college, finding the brilliance the world had.

And Reid knew that Jason had you. And you had Gideon. That was the most soothing and comforting thought. No matter what, he knew that you would take care of Jason, just like he would take care of you. But now... now Spencer's world had dissolved in the air. Like a sandcastle knocked over by the wind.

And the pain was surreal.

When he realized, he had left the room, close to the... body. If he could, Spencer would have moved away from himself. How would he take it? One more death, another psychopath. How many other people he love will are died at the hands of the work he did every day?

The answer to all of these questions was frightening, and Spencer wasn't sure if wanted them.

The trip to the coroner was the worst Reid had ever done, talking about the body was the worst conversation he had ever had. And when Morgan put his hand on his shoulder and said that he couldn't close himself now, that they were going to get that son of a bitch, all Spencer wanted to say was that he couldn't take it anymore. That he couldn't breathe. The emptiness was too oppressive. So much visceral pain.

But that was not what Spencer said. He just clung to the only lifeguard in the middle of the rough and deserted sea: justice. Gideon deserve it.

Reid doesn't know how he managed to get back to the Gideon’s house, how he managed to hear Hotch and Rossi talking about what could have happened. But he was there, standing, by some miracle.

“Do you know who might want to have done this?” Hotch asked Stephen, who had arrived, his eyes red from the crying he struggled to hold.

“No. I know he had a list of things he wanted to do before he died... That's how we came back to speak, one of the things was to get back in touch.” His voice was so reminiscent of Gideon's that it was stabbed in the heart of Reid.

“Didn't he talk about being chased? Feeling anything strange?” Rossi commented.

Reid watched Stephen's expressions carefully, first because he reminded Gideon a lot, and second because he looked for any clues in his reactions.

Stephen took a second to think before saying: “No, but we both don't keep in touch daily, you know?” He swallowed a sob, probably with regret, but then his eyes lit up with some information: “'But Y/n surely know, they both spoke to each other every day, if my father was thinking differently, surely she know.”

The mention of your name hit Reid with a very different wave. Bringing a very different feeling than it should. At that moment, he felt himself holding the air.

For a second, a lapse of consciousness, Spencer had not connected any of this with your physical presence. The notion that you were Gideon's daughter was obvious but, for some reason, Spencer didn't think about the fact that you were going to be there. That you would share the same air with him again, the same place...

“We will have to call her, bring her here to see if something has been left, or taken. If there is anything important on the scene.” It was Hotch.

“I called her as soon as you guys called me.” Stephen said “She arrived from California the day before yesterday, my father and she were going to travel.” He tried to swallow the crying, his eyes trembling.

"And you weren't going?" Rossi added.

“I have a son and a wife.” He gave a smile broken by the sadness of the mourning “They would stop by before I go… Y/n was going to tell me the news, since our schedules hardly match much, she works as an astronomer in…”

“Caltech.” Spencer completed, without even realizing it, like a thought out loud.

“Yea.” Stephen agreed.

Spencer felt a chill go from head to toe, and another ton of feelings were thrown at his back. The reality that he was going to see you again hit him hard. Like an arrow. Suddenly, Reid wanted to get out of there. Run as far as possible.

He couldn't see you. He had no ability to deal with those feelings now. Not now, when his life was so overwhelmed with emotions for Gideon’s death that he still hadn't dealt Not when you aroused the feeling of... hope. Spencer can’t could hope, of any kind. Not for them to be taken from him with visceral force. Reid was already hurt enough for handling another fall.

“... But I don't think it's a good idea for my sister to be here, anyway.” Stephen continued to speak.

Rossi and Hotch frowned: “Why?”

“They were very connected. Seeing this scene is not going to do her any good...” he sobs this time “Y/n is not like me… she is sentimental, emotional. ”

“As long as you're trying to stay calm, she'll be the opposite.” Hotch completed.

“I just don't want my sister to suffer anymore and...”

But it was too late for Stephen to complete. It was too much for Spencer to escape. It was too late to be born again, in a different life.

A gray car moved forward on the stone road, at too high a speed not to have washed several road fines. That was so much typical of you who hurt Spencer's heart pieces more than he thought possible. More than he thought he could feel at the time. You were always so wild at the wheel. But Reid didn't have time to finish a thought, not even Rossi, Hotch, Morgan who was with them or even Stephen. Because car brutally stopped it, the door opened and…

And it was as if the sun came out from behind the clouds after years. As if summer had finally come after decades of overwhelming winter. In a burst, everything you've ever represented for Spencer has come back for him once again. And he felt the same thing that he felt when he first saw you, 8 years ago. And he was catatonic.

You got out of the car in a very hurried and desperate way. And as much as there were tears in your eyes and redness in cheeks, Spencer has never seen anyone so beautiful. Your hair was longer, in a brighter shade, maybe you had dyed it. Your features were more lyrical and beautiful, and Reid thought that the passage of time had no effect on you. While he considered himself just less clumsy over the years, you proved to be blooming like Romania's most superb rose.

“DAD!” But that was when your desperate voice brought Reid's consciousness back to earth.

You weren't calling your brother, you weren't asking why, you weren't in mourning. You were in denial. Disbelieving. You called out to your father, with the certainty that he would show up. And the despair in your eyes hurt Reid more than being shot.

But before the agents could do anything, you were running towards the house and Stephen ran towards you, taking you in his arms, trying to keep you from getting inside.

“LET ME GO, STEPHEN!” You struggled, trying to get rid of your brother's arms, your hair messing with the wind, tears streaming down your eyes. “They are wrong! It's not our father! Let me fucking go! DAD!”

“Y/n” Stephen had a broken heart in his eyes, some tears streaming down his eyes “You need to calm down before you get in there !”

“LET ME GO!” Yours sobs broke the hearts of the four agents over there “DAD!” You was cryng out, almost like a prayer, in a desperate call.

"He's gone, Y/n.” Your brother kept his arms stronger in you, trying to contain you while you struggle in trying to break free and go inside the house, under the illusion that you would find your father there.

“NO!” Now your crying was continuous “I spoke to him yesterday! It's not him, Stephen!” Then your brother turned you to him, holding you tight, and you melted into a visseral pain “It can't be him!”

“I know...” he sobbed, looking at you with the same shared pain “I know...”

So you gave yourself up to a painful, loud and desperate crying, the kind that won't let you breathe. And, unlike Reid, you fallen down. Your knees found the stone and grass floor, your hands clasped on Stephen's shirt, who knelt on the floor with you, delivered the pain you both shared.

You knew what your father's risks were in working in such a dangerous profession. Expose yourself to constant and frightening danger. You always knew about the risks, you just tried to ignore them all your life, sinking your fears about your father not coming home at night. Then, when he let the BAU, that fear dissipated. You felt a colossal weight being lifted off your shoulders, like tons of lead, and you let go of a fear so great that you didn't even know you had it.

For 8 years you thought that the chances of him not coming home were over, that the chances of seeing him the next day had increased dramatically. For 8 years you two traveled together, stopping at every type of diner for milkshake, chocolate ice cream and mint - his favorites - For 8 years you had your best friend, the only thing you knew you had in the world. You always knew that if you were drowning in the ocean, it would be your father who would give his lungs for you to breathe.

You didn't see a life without Gideon.

For you, you were crying for hours in what one day was your father's backyard, totally devastated, but for the rest of the world it was a matter of minutes.

Your sobs were so loud and real that Hotch and Rossi caught themselves with watery eyes, perfectly understanding the pain you were going through, the devastation. The two had lost many people, many of them being essential pieces to be able to continue breathing. Many of them felt wounds that would never heal.

But it was Rossi who approached you, the pain at the top of his throat, his mind wandering the day Gideon said he was going to have a little girl. Unlike Stephen, Rossi never saw you in person, but the sparkle in Jason's eyes whenever he talked about you, or with you on the phone, was enough to know that you were one of the essential pieces to keep breathing.

“Hi, my name is Rossi.” He knelt in front of you and your face went towards him, your cheeks and nose as red as your eyes.

“M-my dad talked about you."” You were still sobbing, slowly letting go of Stephen's shirt.

"Good things, I hope.” The two of you laughed like a sigh, and soon the pain returned to your eyes in a visseral way. “I know this is not fair, and I know it is asking too much, but I need you to go inside and try to find something out of place. Something that whoever did this to your father may have taken or left. ”

You closed your eyes in pain, tears streaming as you sobbed. Your hands, trembling and cold, went to your face, perhaps trying to hide from reality, perhaps wiping away tears. Maybe both. When you looked back at Rossi again, you saw the pain in his eyes too.

"I don't know if I can do it.” You admitted, your voice shaking.

"I know.” Rossi took his hand to yours, squeezing comfortingly “But only you can help us now, help other daughters not lose their father to the same killer. Being inside in the house can bring information that is in your subconscious. I promise you will make it, we will all be here with you.”

His handshake got stronger, and it reminded you of your father. That should have been the same way he comforted the victims' relatives, the way he was supposed to act with people.

'Everyone is somebody's son.' That's what Gideon said. It hit you like an atomic bomb. And, for a moment, you thought it was possible to die of sadness.

You squeezed Rossi's hand tightly, as if you were looking for courage. When you opened eyes again, you gave a weak nod. Carefully, as if any sudden movement is capable of causing you more pain, you stood up, your legs wobbly, your heart bleeding, sadness clouding your vision. Rossi put his hand behind your back, in a way to make sure him were there, as an anchorage in reality that would not let you get lost in the valley of sadness and pain.

As you walked up to the house, you didn't see the other agents, you didn't see the trees, the cars. At that time, you didn't even know what color the sky was anymore. It was like a suspended moment, when the world is in slow motion, the hemisphere is terrified. The sadness was palpable in the breeze, in the way that the rays of the sun did not reach the ground. The whole land looked like mourning.

As soon as you stepped inside the house, the smell of home and Gideon hit your nose, and you felt your face tighten in an expression of pure pain. You didn't notice the agents coming in behind you, you didn't notice Penelope and JJ. You just saw the furniture, the decor, his stuff. As if Gideon had just left for the market and was going to come back.

Everything was in was there. Minus the most important thing: him.

You did not notice when Rossi left you, you did not notice who approached. Everything was in a haze of pain.

But that's when you saw the strong blood marks on the floor, stuck to the wood with possession. A cold shiver as sighed from death ricocheted through your entire body, bristling all over your skin. In a burst, like the bursting of a violin string, the mist dissipated, the state of tupor burst, and reality hit you with overwhelming force.

And then the plug fell.

Jason Gideon had died.

You fell again, barely noticing the sobs and loud crying starting to come out again, the most desperate and painful in you life. But this time the arms that took you were different, bringing with you sensations that you haven't felt in a long time. That a long time ago you forgot that you could feel.

They were long, thin, and contained a vigor hidden beneath the thin facade. The smell of his presence was… heaven. That feeling was your anchorage on the high seas, in the valley of despair, and you clung to him for fear of drowning, of not finding your way back home.

You didn't have to see it to know who it was.

You turned to the arms that took you, now Spencer kneels with you on the floor, and you cried in a way that you never cried before, with a visseral pain. Your hands went to the brown cardigan he wore, closing there as if the fabric was your only chance for salvation.

So you looked at the immensity of the his brown irises.

"He was the only thing I had, Spen.” You sobbed loudly with the crying, gently swaying his coat, your voice utterly torn.

Spencer felt his eyes sting, his throat lock and the remains of what was his heart ache in a hideous way.

“I know.” He felt a tear run down his left cheek, his hands on your arms.

At this time, the two of you supported each other. Gideon meant a lot to you two. An irreplaceable role in yours life. And Spencer knew that was what you were talking about when you said:

"He was the only thing we both had.” You closed your eyes, your hands still firmly on his coat, your heart pounding.

But this time Spencer's voice was just as broken when he said: “I know.”

Then he hugged you.He hugged you for everything. He hugged you because it was a pain that only you two could understand. He hugged you because you needed it, and because he needed too.

Jason Gideon had a special connection with you two, a connection that only the two of you had ever experienced. Each relationship with Gideon was different, special in different ways, but only the two of you had him as a protector, mentor, a much more paternal and confidant figure. He was the kind of person you could leave your life in his hands, the kind who would teach you the secret of the worlds, show you what goodness was and at the same time strength. And you two had that.

You stained Reid's coat with tears, and Reid stained you with the strong smell he had. He stepped far enough away to be able to see your face perfectly, at a considerable distance, and, against everything he had ever done before with anyone, he took your face in his hands, his eyes fixed on your in pain shared.

“We will catch how did it.” Reid assured you, as if he had tattooed this words on your skin. You closed your eyes in pain, but he brought you back “Hey, keep looking at me."

So you did it. Because you would always follow Spencer. To hell if he asked.

"Don't take your eyes off mine, okay?” His voice was so sweet, so gentle, and you couldn't have done anything but agree. “When was the last time you spoke to Gideon?”

“Yesterday.” You replied “We were going to travel to the beach today, I took a vacation from work.”

“Was he at home when you two talked?”

The team looked at each other, with several questions in those look.

You denied it, the hiccup now because of the shortness of breath you had because of the crying.

“He stopped at Roanoke for...” and that's when you seemed to remember something.

Your eyes widened softly, your lips trembled, and you let out a stammering sigh as you try to remember something very important.

“What do you remember?” Spencer stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, trying to calm the beating of your heart that went back to being frantic and making you focus on the question, not the sea of ​​emotions you felt.

“He…” was when your eyes fluttered before meeting Reid's again. “He said he saw a woman on the news who was found dead. And ... and that he had to make sure of one thing ”

Rossi looked at Hotch, who gave an attentive and objective expression.

“Did he tell you why?” His eyes closed again and you sobbed. Reid moved closer, bringing your face back in his direction again “Look at me, Y/n.”

As soon as you did, he gave you a gentle smile, but contained all the pain in the world. He understood what you were felling.

“Why was he interested in the case?” He changed the question.

“I-it was something about...” you searched in your mind “Girl named Tara. I don’t know. He mentioned about a blue butterfly tattoo on her ankle as well, and that it was something to do with a… a case or something.”

“1978” Rossi interrupted and everyone looked at him “Gideon and I worked on a case in 1978, the suspect was never caught and Tara was a teenager who we thought had been kidnapped by him. The killer left dead birds in the hands of the victims ”

“But he didn't mention birds and...” That's when your eyes, fluttering, darted around the room and you stopped abruptly.

Spencer turned his attention to you again, seeing that you were staring somewhere. His hands slowly left your face and he asked:

“What?”

“The board.” You pointed to your father's board, which had a beautiful brown bird.

“Does say anything to you?” Rossi turned his attention to you.

You shook your head, your body too exhausted to go to the painting and examine it.

“He shot the board.” You looked at the agents “My father loved that painting, he never would have done that. Even though my father is stunned, he has the best aim I have ever seen.”

“The devil is in the details." Rossi went to the pinting and, after two seconds, turned to the team and said “I already know who did this.”

You let out a gigantic sigh of relief as the agents split up to continue the case, speaking so fast that you couldn't keep up.

“I helped?” You looked at Spencer, tears still shining in your eyes.

He smiled and nodded “Very.”

But when he got up, you took his hand, making Reid turn his attention back to you again, a questioning look on his face.

“You're going to get it, aren't you?” The sob invaded your voice "Promise me that you will catch him, Spen."

Reid took his hand in your, giving you a strong, comforting squeeze before saying:

"I will. I promise.”

And then he left, along with the other agents.

- - -

You thought you knew what pain was, the loss, the tightness in the heart. You thought that your many relationship breakdowns showed you what it was like to suffer. But you have never been so wrong. None of that compared to how you were now, to what you felt.

You would trade that feeling for anything in the world.

This was terrible. A cold, coercive, brutal and cruel feeling. As if you were at the bottom of a black ocean, unable to breathe, falling deeper and deeper, consumed by the overwhelming cold of the water.

It was impossible to say in words how you felt. But if it were you had to define it in one word you would say: pain. A pain that bends you, a pain that makes you want to scream, that pierces your lungs so that it is not possible to breathe, but that even so, you fight for air.

It was pain at its rawest, most brutal, sharp and atrocious like a dagger blade. You would go through Dante's hells for eternity instead of living one day with that pain.

Since Spencer and the agents went after the person in charge, you have sat on the steps of the front door, watching the nature, the shaking of the trees, but your attention was so far, far away. Perhaps unattainable.

Gideon always loved watching the seasons go by, and in that moment, you wondered if looking at the same thing he looked at every day would make you feel close to him. Feel with him. It had only been three days since you last saw him, when he picked you up at the airport, but you felt like you were past three lives. How would you go without it? How were you able to think of living without it?

You pulled your knees up against your chest, hugging your legs, the metallic, atrocious and icy taste of devastation stuck to yours in your mouth. The trees shook hard, forcing the birds to fly away, but you didn't feel cold. You were not feeling the cold breeze hit your body, nor were your muscles contracting in exhaustion from the hard wood of the steps you were sitting on.

The hunger, the cold, the heat or the craving could not reach you, as if the pain had paralyzed all your system. Probably your soul.

You didn't see when Stephen put father's blanket over your shoulders, nor did you hear his sobs for seeing you so devastated. But you smelled Gideon, and the warmth of the blanket was like having his arms around you again. Then the rest of the water in your body found its way to your eyes and crying was as automatic as breathing.

You were clinging to Spencer taking the son of a bitch who did it, trying to chase away any other thoughts that weren't about that. You didn't want to think about what would happen after he was caught. Which meant his capture for you. It would bring justice to Gideon, honoring his name, his life, but it wouldn't bring him back. What was taken from you would not be repaired, regardless of the end of that damned man.

When he was caught, you would have nothing else to focus on instead.

You don't know how long you stayed there. Hours? Days? The those peach and gold tones in the sky is from dusk or the dawn of a new day?

You had lost track of time, as if your watch had stopped since the time Gideon died.

The sound of cars on the road was the only thing that pulled you out of your fucking valley, and as soon as the black SUVs stopped, you stood up as if you had been waiting your whole life for that moment. The blanket fell from your shoulders, heart accelerated at an alarming rate, and for a second, everything was gone from your mind.

Rossi was the first to get out of the car, but yours eyes darted to Reid. You wanted to run, ask what had happened, listen to the answers. But you were paralyzed in place. Afraid of the truth, of reality.

What would become of you after that news?

Spencer came towards you without hesitation, and you couldn't take your eyes off him for a second. He didn't say anything, nor did he explain anything. It was not needed. The way he reached out his hand and placed your father's rings in your palm were enough answers.

Your whole body shook and you looked at Reid with more emotions than askers.

"He is dead." He told you, and it made you fall down again.

But this time you fell into his hugging, clinging to him in despair. There were many meanings in that embrace: gratitude, relief, fear, pain and grief. And Spencer hugged you back in the same way.

You two stayed that way for a while, even when the agents went to talk to Stephen, even when Garcia and JJ left the house, even when the cold wind hit you both.

“Thanks." You heard yourself say it, and Spencer shook his head, signaling that it wasn't necessary, and the two of you moved away.

So you went to Rossi, and hugged him too. In that second, Rossi could feel Gideon in that hug, and it took a second to not cry.

“Your father was a great man." He told you when the two of you walked away, and you agreed on a sad smile.

"He was." You looked down at the rings in your hand, staying a second there before turning to the agents and saying: “You guys are going to the funeral, aren't you? I ... my dad would like it w-very much.”

"Of course." Rossi guaranteed it.

As they walked away and went back to the car, heading for their own houses, your eyes met Spencer's and he whispered in the air to you:

“I will see you at the funeral."

You nodded, giving you a sad, grateful smile. And while everyone was leaving and you were looking at the rings in your hand again, you had a feeling that your story with Spencer had just started over.

A/n: I also lost a very important person to death, and for everyone who went through it too, I mean that no one is alone! My message box is open if you need anything! Love you❤️

Tagged @gublersuvula

@peculiarinsomniac

@measure-in-pain

@nobutalsoyes

🍒 @misshale21

[lazarettta]

Misthios IV

Characters (Spartan!Reader x Mother Miranda)

Rating (T)

Word Count (3.4k)

Warnings (none I don't think)

You're up roaming around the castle and run into Miranda and Alcina.

It's been an exhausting but thrilling six months since you've gained the eye of this region's reigning ruler. Their Queen was ruthless as she was beautiful and you were quickly learning that she had a particular taste for blood that you haven't seen since your days in Sparta. Creative and cunning as she was, especially when it came to acts of revenge, but she took care of her kingdom and her people so long as they were loyal to her and her alone.

It was that last rule that forced you to discover just how cruel and destructive the mountains of Norway could be because you were tasked with chasing down a group of runaway slaves—as a punishment. This was different from your 'normal' punishments.

There was nothing special about these fucking slaves, they were just stupid enough to think it wise to steal from their Queen and then dare escape. It angered you so much that she'd send you on this quest when a small squadron of low ranked knights would've done fine.

It had taken you a week and two villages to finally catch up with them into the mountains. The conditions were harsher than what you were prepared for and you had to abandon half your gear and continue on foot. The cold was too much for your horse to handle, but he was old and you were sure to put him out of his misery before continuing on your hunt.

You'd caught them asleep in a cave a few miles away from a village that was tucked away into the mountain side. You purchased food and another horse, costing you all the silver you carried but it made your hunt easier and quicker. You hadn't been looking for the cave but a small fire through the thick of the trees caught your attention. Tying your new mare a distance away, you crept towards them, sticking to the tall grass and the shadows.

They'd all been sleeping so peacefully, even their so-called 'watcher'. It was almost too easy to just go and kill them quietly one by one...but Miranda had specific instructions for you to follow if you wanted her forgiveness. She wanted to hear them scream while she slept and that was exactly what you intended to deliver. You unsheathed one of your twin blades and with practiced ease, you swung right as the watcher’s eyes snapped open.

You were startled awake by a scream that you weren't sure if it was from your dream or if it was a real one. You sat up half way in the bed of the guest room you were put up in, leaning on your elbow ready to spring from beneath the sheets but nothing ever came. After another full five minutes of sitting and waiting with no result, you let yourself fall back onto the soft pillows and threw an arm over your eyes as they began to leak tears.

Nothing of sadness or the sort, you were simply exhausted—you were still in your clothing with your parka not too far away just in case you had to use the window for a quick escape. You even kept your boots on, even though it was too warm for you but you'd deal with it as you've been through more uncomfortable situations that couldn't even compare to simply being hot. Of course if you take off a few layers you'd be fine, but paranoia hasn't exactly been very kind to you in the past years...with good reason too. You hadn't died in over ten years and you planned to keep that streak going.

But even as those thoughts comforted you a bit, sleep evaded you—no longer finding you worthy of its pleasures and you just laid there sprawled out and tangled within the soft white linen sheets that were probably now dirty thanks to you. You didn't care. They probably had more somewhere.

Resigned to the fact that you'd probably never be able to go back to sleep, at least not any time soon, so pushed aside the heavy duvet and slipped out of the bed quietly. You moved towards the window but the only thing you could see was the few trees below and a land covered in blankets of undisturbed snow. A little further beyond the tree line, you saw smoke coming from the chimneys of the factory before you turned away from the view and left your room. You looked left and right of the hallway but there wasn't a sign of life to be found, not even that little maiden Alcina practically made your shadow. It was probably later than it actually felt and she was probably asleep...everyone probably was.

Checking your watch— ah, right. Miranda even took that. She took everything you could use as a weapon and it tickled you more than it annoyed you. Unsupervised, you can now take your time to feel your way around. You didn't get a chance to get a good look at everything before but now you did, and it was an opportunity to get to know the Lady of the castle. You'd long dismissed the thought that anything in this village was normal, it had more secrets and shadows than a horror book you guessed.

Walking through the halls of the second floor felt like a trip down memory lane—no particular region as most all castles were the same. Large and filled with fancy portraits and trinkets that could house and feed five families at a time. Carpet so plush and soft that you could feel it through your boots with each step. It absorbed your weight like a welcome home hug. Clearly Lady Alcina was a woman of finer things in life and that extended far outside of her wardrobe and preferred wines.

It just unnerved you how quiet everything was, a castle thing large and prosperous had to have staff minding it twenty four seven. Nonetheless, you finally came to the door that you recognized during your brief tour as the 'wine room'. Like everything else you'd come across, the door was finely made from dark red oak with gold trimmings—just like Alcina's stagecoach.

Without a second thought about it, you opened the door—simply with the intent of getting a better look at the wine collection the maiden mentioned during your tour. But that thought was cut short because the room wasn't as empty as the silence in the hallway led you to believe as you'd walked into a full conversation by two people; one you were hoping to avoid for a few days and the other you thought was asleep...or well away from your location. You were wrong on both accounts.

“Heisenberg is a blundering fool leading a pack of fleabags, Miranda. He is going to fail again!”

“And we don't have time to stress other options, especially that one! We're out of time already and—”

“Exactly we're out of time so just ask her—” you pushed the door open a little more and it creaked quietly.

They both turned to you and you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to make of the scene in front of you or what you just overheard. Miranda and Alcina were sitting at the small table, well Miranda was, Alcina was sitting in one of her custom chairs a little further away and both women had two glasses filled with dark red wine. Alcina wasn't in her white dress anymore, instead she'd changed into a pair of dark slacks and deep red turtle neck and she was barefoot. A far cry from the regal dress she wore earlier but she still carried herself in the same manner.

You did your best not to think about how good Miranda looked without that damn mask on her face...even in those robes she still wore, Miranda was beautiful. Beautiful as the day you first met. You forced yourself to keep your attention on Alcina and not Miranda, who was now staring a hole into the side of your face like she was trying to will you into looking at her.

“Oh. Shit, I didn't know this room was occupied.”

Alcina glanced at Miranda briefly from behind her wine glass, her expression unreadable when she settled her eyes on you again, “Of course not, dear. Is everything alright?”

You cleared your throat, fighting the urge to look at Miranda because you could feel her trying to will your eyes in her direction, “No, actually I—”

You were interrupted by an ear piercing scream and high pitched laughter right behind her, on the verge of being hysterical. Lady Dimitrescu sighed heavily behind you and finished her wine before setting her glass down and rising to her full height.

“Please excuse me, it seems that my daughters are teasing the poor maids again.”

You started to comment that it didn't sound like it was teasing but you kept your mouth shut, knowing better than to stick your nose in the wrong place too soon—it never really turned out very well for you the first time. It would never cease to amaze you how fast and quiet Alcina moved despite her size, but it still baffled you that she hasn't ever gotten the doors to her own castle fixed to fit for her . But those thoughts were pushed to the far corners of your mind when the door clicked shut—leaving you alone in the room with Miranda, forcing you to acknowledge her now. You shoved your hands in your pockets and sighed, you weren't expecting to see her again so soon.

You still hadn't had time to get your shit together after the last time you two spoke, or more like argued back and forth. Easily falling into a pattern as if you hadn't been centuries apart. You still weren't sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

“Take a seat, (Y/n). Would you like a glass of wine?” Miranda broke the silence but she didn't break eye contact with you once she caught you eye, holding you as if she physically had her hands on your face. “We don't have to talk if you don't want to, (Y/n).”

“Oh, so now we're suddenly interested in what I want to do?”

“Yes, of course. Wine?”

You scoffed, rolling her eyes at her typical answer and you wanted to say no, you opened your mouth to do so but instead you were getting closer to the table she was sitting at. She poured you a glass of wine, and handed it to you. You raised an eyebrow, she couldn't have set it down for you? She insisted on handing it to you and the way Miranda was holding the glass left you no choice to place your hands over hers to take it from her. Those gold claw rings were ice cold against your skin and the edge of one nicked your skin but not deep enough to draw blood.

You had no idea what you wanted to say to Miranda, you weren't ready to talk about what you two needed to talk about but you weren't sure if you could sit here and do small talk with her over wine. It was so easy for you to get up and leave, maybe go back to your guest room and lock the door. So what was stopping you? Why was it difficult?

Miranda, who had been watching you intently, interrupted your rapid thoughts, “You always were a loud thinker, (Y/n).”

“Nothing interesting, trust me.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Miranda chuckled, shifting in her chair slightly to angle herself towards you a little more. You sort of hated yourself for thinking how well she was pulling off the priestess look, “I could always tell what you were thinking even from a mile away. You were always quite the unique distraction.”

“You never complained before.”

“No,” she agreed, her voice dropping an octave or two lower, “though I doubt I ever will.”

You looked up, she didn't look away and you didn't know what to think. And for once, even if it was just for a moment, you saw a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Miranda, what do you want? Why are you keeping me here?”

“Because we need to talk, (Y/n), to...clear the air as they say, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay, I got that part earlier,” you licked your suddenly dry lips, your nerves starting to buzz a little, “But that's not a good enough reason anymore.”

Miranda scoffed, actually rolling her eyes at you, “Why not? Closure heals the past. Doesn't it?”

“But what do you expect after that?”

“What do you?” she threw the ball back in your court as she refilled her own wine glass from a different bottle than what she used for your own, the wine she was using was a little darker and thicker. It didn't surprise you that the question was thrown back at you, she always did that when she was trying to keep the upper hand or get it.

But it didn't mean that the question wasn't a good one because what did you want after this? Would it even matter after all of this time? Have you ever forgiven her, really and truly moved on? Did she even care back then, did she care for you...or what you could do for her?

Miranda was watching you the entire time become lost in your thoughts, a trait you still carried with you. She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, her clear eyes taking you in while you were distracted enough to not notice her doing it so blatantly. You still looked the same as the last time she saw you, minus the murderous rage that had twisted your beautiful features that evening.

The modern world has touched many parts of you but your eyes still hold so much more than they did centuries ago. Being a warrior was now outdated and something of an historical myth but you still carried yourself as one, and Miranda could see new scars on your brown skin on the exposed skin she saw earlier on your neck and arms.

She'd been watching you for days before finally making herself known to you after going back and forth with herself during those agonizing days. Being far more irritable than she normally was and Miranda was positive that Lords Heisenberg and Moreau were quite sore with her at the moment. Well, Karl certainly would be. Seeing you made her angry...at first. Angry for the grief you left her with, the shatters you left her to pick up on her own.

Years of pent up thoughts and plans of revenge she'd enact when she got her hands on you came down to a single moment when she finally did get her hands on you and she couldn't do it. Miranda eyed your neck, where you should've still been bruised. She had you right where she needed you with one hand wrapped around your neck because you were so unsuspecting. It would've been so easy but she couldn't...so she knocked you out and threw you in a cell where she could keep a better eye on you. And perhaps no longer be so distracted from her work.

“Look who's thinking loud now.” you mumbled around the edge of your wine glass, finally taking a sip of the damn thing. Miranda wouldn't hesitate to bet that you assumed it was somehow poisoned even though you watched her open the bottle. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

Miranda hummed softly, “Do you really wish to know?”

You chuckled, and Miranda's eyes were drawn to the way your jaw clenched and unclenched when the wine hit your taste buds again, “With the way you were staring at my neck...it's not that hard to guess, Miranda.”

“You're only half right, my dear.” At your raised eyebrows, Miranda's smirk only widened, “My hands were wrapped around that strong neck again, but breaking it is far from my mind now .”

Your snort turned into a chuckle that was clearly infectious as Miranda joined you. Nothing was remotely that funny, if it was funny at all, but you were tired and the situation brought forth too many emotions for you, either of you to really process, and all you could was just...laugh.

Miranda was the first to sober up a bit though the smile never completely left her features. “Ah, and well... you know, it wouldn't do to try and kill the only other person on this wretched rock who knows me. Will it?”

You're very well the only person in this wretched world that will ever know the real me and still love me for it. Quite a miserable thought, isn't it?

You jumped when the door opened behind you and Alcina stepped into the room—you'd almost forgot where you were for a moment. Almost. Alcina took one look at the two of you, curious to find you actually still in the room much less sitting at the table sharing a glass of wine with Miranda. Especially with what she overheard earlier and how much tension you two create together.

Alcina knew that she interrupted something, probably something she had no business to but that did not stop her from sitting back down in her chair in her goddamn castle. And whatever drama that was happening within her territory was now her drama and she was going to get a front row seat. Alcina lit up another one of her cigarillos and pulled heavy before she released it in your direction.

“Running a business is quite the headache when no one else understands your vision, I swear. Don't have kids, (Y/n). They're messy and nothing but trouble.”

“Noted.” you forced a chuckle, not taking her bait but now you were trying to finish your wine as quickly as possible without seeming like you were trying to run.

“Well, how about it then, (Y/n)? Tell us a story, you couldn't have been a mercenary your entire life. Or have you?” You glanced at Miranda and saw that she was glaring at Alcina but the taller woman wasn't paying her any mind. And really, the only reason Miranda hasn't verbally intervened is because she was interested in your answer as well. Even if Alcina was asking just to poke at the situation for her own amusement.

“I've put away my shield and sword a long time ago,” you didn't bother to mention that you did keep them both in pristine condition just in case, “I've been enjoying the little things life has to offer.” lame. And a lie.

“Oh come now,” Alcina scoffed, not accepting your answer—it wasn't a very good one anyway, “That's—”

“Actually,” When it was clear that Miranda wasn't going to save you from this woman's nosiness (why would she?) You quickly drank the rest of the wine, it was really too sour for you, and rose from the chair. “I think I'll try to get some more sleep. Thanks for the wine and...yeah.” Could you be any more awkward?

Alcina was howling by the time the door slammed shut behind you and she took another pull from her cigarette stick, still paying no heed to Miranda's heated glare. “Oh, you're going to have to tie that one down if you want her to talk to you.”

“I will have your head if you stick your nose in my business again, Dimitrescu.”

“Then don't store your business in my castle.” Alcina shot back, meeting Miranda's glare head on but immediately conceded when she felt Miranda's growling through the vibrations of her glass in her hand that was still resting on the table. “Alright, alright...but you're always welcome to use my dungeons. Use chains though those biceps of hers could probably break through the ropes.”

“Alcina, that is enough!”

The Lady of the castle just laughed lightly until it tapered off into a pleasant hum around her famous Sanguis Virginis wine while watching Miranda readjust her face mask. Her eyes brighter than they have been the last few hours., Alcina pushed for one more question—deciding to risk Miranda's wrath, “How'd you ever let such a handsome creature slip between your fingers?”

Miranda sighed heavily, no pause in her strut to the door, “Egos and misunderstandings.” she was gone before the lock clicked into place.

I'm so sorry for being hella lazy, lol, I'll add the other chapters of this story today 😭😭😭😭

[maysbanks]

hold out. (jj maybank)

here it is, the second part to hypersonic missiles ! the response to the first part was absolutely amazing, the support & love in this fandom is incredible & i just wanna say a huge thank you to all of you that take the time to like, reblog & comment, every single one means so much !! gotta admit im not loving this as in it's not my best work and kinda all over the place & half way through writing this i almost scrapped the whole thing to rewrite the full series with an oc bc writing as the reader was starting to get to me lol. but alas here it is & as always i hope u enjoy x

warning: swearing, drug use, underage drinking, violence etc 

summary: after accidentally inserting herself into a treasure hunt with four teenagers, one of which could be considered her 'friend with benefits', y/n grubbs is left to deal with the complications and misfortunes that come along with it - including her ever-growing feelings for said 'friend with benefits'. 

( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )

If someone had told you a week before that you would lose your father, get your house raided by two men you had never seen before in your life, make friends with a group of teenagers, embark on a two hundred year old treasure hunt with said teenagers, and be hanging out with JJ Maybank every day and willingly, all in the space of one week; you'd have laughed in their face, asked them what drugs they were on and could you have some, and then laugh in their face again.

But alas, there you were. You still couldn't quite believe it, especially the JJ part. You'd had worries at first, like would the gang really want you involved, did they secretly hate having you around, were they just being nice and letting you in on this because your dad had died? All the doubts swirled in your mind, running around like clock-work, just ticking away constantly in the back of your head. Surprisingly, JJ had been the one you'd gone to about them.

"I just feel guilty," you'd said. It was after a day of riding around in John B's boat and using fancy hotels' WiFi, and 'borrowing' a drone from JJ's dads old workplace. His eyebrows furrowed when he looked at you, confused. "I mean, you guys have been friends for like, forever. And then I just show up and you conveniently find out about John B's dad and the treasure hunt on the same day when I'm there, and it's just like - I don't belong with you guys, it's your thing and I'm just kinda, here." 

"You're part of this just as much as we all are," he'd told you, matter of fact. His body was angled to face you as you sat outside John B's self-proclaimed Chateau, a freshly rolled blunt being passed back and forth between the pair of you. "You need to stop doubting yourself, man. You're apart of us now." 

The words had warmed your heart, an instant smile being spread on your lips as you looked at him through red-rimmed eyes. Underneath the setting sun, he looked almost angelic; his golden hair blowing in the slight breeze, tanned skin exposed due to the heat. You had pretended not to notice the tense of the muscles in his arms whenever your fingers brushed when you passed the juul between yourselves. 

"You're too kind to me, Maybank," you'd grinned, boot-clad foot nudging his knee gently. "If I didn't know you so well I'd have thought you'd have ulterior motives."

"Who says I haven't?" He'd smirked back. You'd just smiled, teeth biting down on the plump skin of your bottom lip before you'd looked away from his burning gaze and focused your attention on anything, anywhere but JJ fucking Maybank.

You got along with the gang amazingly, you couldn't doubt that. Pope was the smartest guy you'd met, sweet and funny and passionate and so certain of what he wanted to do in life. Kiara, or Kie, as you'd come to call her, was very environmentally involved, almost too cool for the guys, you thought. She cared so much about so many things, and she had a great taste in music too. John B was a bit like you, you supposed. Fatherless, on the hunt for answers, things like that - but other than that he was a great guy, the makeshift leader of the little group, a little lost in life, but that was to be understood.

And then there was JJ. You felt most comfortable around the blonde, but that was kinda a given too, due to the fact you'd seen each other in your most vulnerable states that came with having sex rather regularly, something the other members of the gang didn't share. He was a spit-fire, always ready to throw a punch and fire threats at those who deserved it, head-strong and stubborn. But he was more so caring, God he cared so much for his friends, you'd discovered. He would do just about anything for them, whatever position that put him in. JJ put the gang before himself, always. You'd noticed all different types of things about JJ especially, little things you had never taken the time to notice before.

These little discoveries probably came from watching him too much, you'd thought one night. It was a bit of a problem, though you never mentioned it. The unspoken rule amongst the group was No Pogue on Pogue Macking, which basically meant everyone was off limits to each other. You understood the rule, Kie having been the only girl before you'd arrived on the scene amongst three guys, and after becoming apart of the gang you had no choice but to respect it - which also meant that JJ was off limits. But was he technically off limits when you'd already been there, so far past the line on macking with each other?

There was some sort of agreement between the two of you, that in order to make this work; your friendship with the Pogues, the hunt for the Merchant's treasure, that nothing could happen. You'd spoken briefly about it that first day, outside the lighthouse beside the Twinkie (John B's van, you'd learned had a nickname), we're cool, right? Pretend we haven't seen each other naked, conversation. It had been cut short, but it still happened. And the pair of you never mentioned it after that, a few off-handed comments here and there from JJ, but nothing specific. So you assumed yours and JJ's hook ups were off the table, and you had no idea why that had come to bother you so damn much.

On the day following your talk with JJ on John B's porch, he'd invited you to come along with him and Pope as they delivered groceries for Pope's dad, Heyward. You had almost said no, because really, you could probably do with a break from the Maybank boy, all the time spent with him was doing no favours for your little situation of Fighting Attraction While Hunting For Gold. That's what you were putting it down to in your mind anyway, too much time spent with the person you're sleeping with can begin to mess with anyone's head, and hey, maybe it was the fact that you were grieving and JJ was familiar - but you couldn't be doing with all these thoughts anymore.

Despite the angel on your shoulder urging you to turn his offer down, you'd said yes. But that was little to do with JJ and more to do with your mom and your current home situation, which was unbearable, to say the least. Your mother was barely speaking to you, as if she was scared of letting something slip if she did. In return, you shut her out, too. Told her lame excuses and empty lies when you were heading out with the gang, lying through your teeth when she'd asked where you were or where you were going.

Lana Grubbs wasn't a stupid woman, though, and you knew she knew you were up to something. But she hadn't mentioned anything outright yet, and so you hadn't said anything either. The hole your father had left was huge and gaping, evident in both your lives. You hadn't spoken about it yet, and you weren't intending to until she could be completely honest with you. You didn't want to hear anymore lies, and you were already on the path to discovering the full truth. On your own.

Her words echoed in your mind every time you left the house, voice small and gentle as she never failed to say the same thing. "Just be careful." You'd always look over your shoulder, and she'd never look back at you. She hadn't looked at you much at all since your dad had died.

It was after a certain drop-off of groceries, you'd joined JJ in his delivery whilst Pope had docked the boat and gone off to deliver his own, yours and JJ's strides matching as you walked the seemingly never-ending drive of the abnormally large house that loomed over you. The Kook part of the island never ceased to intimidate you, no matter how much you didn't want it to. There was something about it, the people that lived amongst it, that unsettled you whenever you entered it. Figure Eight wasn't somewhere you usually visited other than an odd job you'd picked up, and you were reminded why of that fact as you walked alongside JJ.

"Just think," he breathed, all starry eyed and parted lips as he gazed around the pair of you. "This could all be ours soon."

You snorted, bumping his side with your own. "Don't be melodramatic, JJ,"

"I'm serious!" JJ protested. His sea blue eyes caught yours when he turned his head to look at you head-on. The intensity of his stare almost made you stop in your spot, but you managed to carry on, gulping when his eyes continued to hold yours. "I'm sticking to my earlier statement, right, we're going to move here, and out-rich all these fuckin' Kooks."

"Out-rich?" You raised an eyebrow, lips quirking. "Your grammar is so adequate, Maybank."

"It's a word," JJ insisted, nudging your side with the point of his elbow. "Who the fuck uses words like adequate these days, anyway? I don't even think Mrs. Humphrey knows what that word means."

You laughed at the mention of your shared English teacher, the grey-haired, short, spectacle wearing woman immediately entering your mind. JJ grinned when he heard your laugh, dimples winking in his cheeks.

"Mrs. Humphrey can't even spell Wednesday," you giggled, JJ chuckling along with you as he nodded. "It's a wonder how that woman has been working there for like, eighteen years or something."

Your steps faltered as you neared the door to the house, pace slowing as you both basked in the time spent with each other, though neither of you would admit it. "She was probably a good teacher at first," JJ said thoughtfully, shuffling the groceries in his hands. (You tried not to notice the way his arms looked when he did that, muscles clenching and on full show with his cut-off tank.) "I bet each year another brain cell of hers just like, dies."

"Wouldn't surprise me," you nodded. "Mine would attempting to teach classes full of teenagers," rather dramatically, you shuddered. "Especially if one of those teenagers was JJ Maybank."

"Hey!" JJ shouted, though his grin proved that he found your jab amusing. You laughed along with him, bumping his side once more as you finally landed at the door, watching as he turned to you, expression trying to be serious and failing, rather horribly. "You better watch yourself, Grubbs. I'm serious here, I can be a pretty scary guy if need be, y'know."

You didn't doubt that, of course. You'd seen JJ in action with your own two eyes, you knew what he was capable of. But somehow, stood with you there, on the doorstep of some filthy rich Kook's mansion, groceries in hand, blonde hair shining golden in the sun, sun-kissed skin exposed to your wandering eyes, grin on pink lips; you couldn't imagine JJ Maybank hurting a fly.

"Trust me, I know." You'd said just as he knocked on the door, shooting you one last toothy grin before the door was opened and he was pulled into a conversation with the woman who'd answered it, talking about all things from the weather to the next semester at school. You watched him all the while, smile growing on your lips without your knowledge as you took him in, seemingly in his element as he sweet-talked the middle-aged woman inside the house. When he turned to you suddenly, you startled, broken from your thoughts and caught red-handed staring at him like some freak. He grinned, tongue wetting his pink lips at the same time you internally groaned.

"I was just saying, the groceries," he trailed off as he pointed to the bags in your hands in which you'd forgotten were even there. You let out an 'oh' as you quickly passed the groceries over to the waiting woman, shooting her an apologetic smile as she looked at you knowingly. JJ nodded his head in your direction, speaking once more to the woman, "New guys, huh?"

You glared at him as the woman laughed, perfectly manicured hand reaching beside her and grabbing hold of her purse, pulling a note out with her slender fingers. She held the note out to JJ, who immediately tried to turn it down, insisting there was no need, but the woman was unrelenting - sending a pointed look your way as she told him, "For your troubles, sweetie."

JJ picked the note from her hands, a gracious smile being sent to her as he nodded. "It's been a long day," he sighed heavily and your jaw almost dropped as you resisted the urge to reach out and slap his arm. What a fucker. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Ramirez. I really appreciate it."

The woman, Mrs. Ramirez, as you learned, nodded and waved a hand. "No bother, sweetie," she told him before turning her eyes back to you. You forced a smile as she simply eyed you up and down, before sending an obviously forced one of her own. "And thank you." She said curtly, and you were ready to give her a piece of your mind before JJ was grabbing your arm and dragging you in the direction of where you'd come from, shouting one last thank you over his shoulder as he walked you back towards the boat.

It was when you were a safe distance away that you shook your arm from his hold only to slap him gently on his own as you glowered, glare smouldering as he laughed, throwing his head back as he stumbled beside you.

"You're such an ass," you huffed as you tried to ignore his chuckling, speeding your steps. "I mean, she literally just tipped you a hundred dollars for showing up and smiling, I'm sure if I had a third leg down there I would have got the same treatment too."

"Are you jealous?" JJ asked, having to jog slightly to keep up your hurried pace. His smile was huge and infectious, and you made a point not to meet his stare when he landed next to you in fear of breaking your fake annoyed stance. "Maybe if you weren't too busy checking me out then you could have talked to her, and y'know, make a small fortune yourself."

You scoffed, whirling around and halting him in place. He almost stumbled into you, and you stepped back when his hands landed on your arms to steady himself, shaking his grip off almost immediately. "I wasn't checking you out," you told him, matter of fact.

JJ grinned and ran a hand through his hair as he replied, "Sure you were," he shrugged. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared, biting down on your tongue as you resisted your own smile as he motioned to his body from head to toe. "Not that I can blame you, I mean look at me."

"I've looked, JJ," your voice was low when you said it, a knowing tone to your words. "I've looked, and I've seen it all, in case you forgot."

A low chuckle slipped past his lips. "How could I ever forget?" He asked rhetorically, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as you tried not to follow the action with your eyes, and failed, miserably. "Trust me, that image is forever dented in my brain. I think of it, sometimes. Just randomly."

You rolled your eyes. And he's back, _you thought. _He never left, a voice at the back of your head piped up. You ignored them both. "C'mon," you said, already turning on your heel and starting off in the direction of where Pope had docked the boat. "Let's go get these deliveries finished."

The pair of you said nothing more for the rest of the duration of the short walk back, and when the boat was in your sights JJ was off running, more than likely eager to show off his one hundred dollar tip to Pope, as you idled, watching his back as he ran. When you finally landed in the boat, it was silent. You immediately picked up on the tension, heavy in the small space, and shot JJ a confused glance when he looked back at you.

Slowly, you made your way towards where the two boys were up at the front of the boat, Pope situated at the wheel. The dark skinned boy was staring straight ahead, refusing to meet either yours or JJ's eyes. When you looked to the latter, he subtly shrugged a shoulder, letting you know that he had no clue himself what was going on with his best friend.

"Pope?" You questioned softly. "What's wrong?" When there was no answer, you shared another glance with JJ, his concern shining in his blue eyes. You tilted your head as you went to ask him again, but when you did, your eyes caught on to the colour crimson that was slowly streaming down the side of his face. You gasped and JJ startled, chest bumping your shoulder as he tugged the cap from Pope's head, revealing the injury near the top of his head.

"Jesus!" JJ exclaimed when he caught sight of the wound, Pope swatting at his hands that held his hat, pulling it back down once JJ had let go. "What happened?"

"Rafe and Topper jumped me," Pope's voice was slightly wobbly as he informed you both, a tear sliding down his cheek as he recounted, "They said no Pogues on their side of the island."

Your blood began to boil just as JJ demanded, "What are you gonna do?" His own jaw clenched in anger as he looked at his best friend, beaten and bruised in front of him from the hands of some entitled selfish pricks that thought they were better than everyone because they had more money in their pockets. Rafe Cameron was a name that never failed to make you queasy at just the mention of it, and his little gang of followers including Topper Thorton were just as unbearable.

"I have something in mind." Pope spoke, voice and stance determined. And something he did, as he drove to Topper's new boat - and promptly swam over and removed the plug from it, causing the new model to sink into the water as you and JJ watched from Heyward's boat, keeping an eye out for anyone that may have spotted your trio.

And though it was bad, and you knew you probably shouldn't have taken part in such an activity, nor prompted Pope to either; you couldn't deny the rush it gave you as you watched Topper Thorton's boat begin to sink, and maybe it was the fact that you knew that Topper was a Grade A Asshole and deserved it, or maybe it was Pope's own unsure but excitable adrenaline that mixed with your own, or maybe it was just the fact that JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulder without a care in the world as he shouted his support to his friend, squeezing you to his side almost unknowingly, like it was some kind of instinct.

You thought, yeah, it probably was, as you immediately felt the loss of it when he moved to grab Pope in a hug. And then you thought, well shit.

There was a mutual share of disappointment when the gang had found just about absolutely nothing when you'd taken Pope's fathers boat out the next morning, drone ready and in hand to go hunt for the gold, where John B Routledge had marked down on the map it having been.

Granted, the Royal Merchant was there. It was just missing the one thing they were after - the gold was nowhere in sight, and the journey had been a complete waste of time. You thought it to be too good to be true, of course it had to be. Four hundred million in gold and you were expected to find it? There was no way, you thought bitterly as JJ steered the gang back to land, not one of you daring to speak as the disappointment crashed over you all in huge waves.

You'd departed with the guys not long after that, after promising Kie that you would accompany her to the annual summer movie night, making your way towards home. The bitter frustration ate away at your insides, you were mad, angry - fucking infuriated, each step the gang got closer to finding the gold, it was as if someone was stood in your path and shoving you all back another ten.

Had your dad really died for this? This seemingly never-ending hunt for promised gold that, for all you knew, could be complete and utter bullshit. You didn't understand it at first, when the pieces began to slot together, but it was like every time the chase got harder it made you want it even more; and then you understood your fathers fascination and Big John Routledge's obsession. This gold meant everything to you and the gang, and you knew, John B especially, would never give up on this chase.

"Hey, sweetheart," your mother called when you entered the house. The front door was still broken, only the screen in place, and was leaning against the wall as you maneuvered past it. Lana was sat at the couch, and when you walked in she'd shoved a box away from her, the lid laying haphazardly over the top. "I wasn't expecting you home so early."

You shot her a small and forced smile, shuffling your bag from your shoulder and onto the floor, landing with a soft thud. "Hey mom," you greeted back, noting her teary eyes and flushed cheeks. "What're you doing?"

When you arrived at the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder, you immediately recognised the box - Family Photos! _written atop _the cardboard.

"I was just looking through some old pictures," she told you, sniffling as she attempted to smile at you. "Just wanted to see his face again."

You nodded, your throat tightening at the mention of your dad. Reaching a hand up and wiping away her tears, she looked at you questioning, "Where have you been?"

"Just out," you said, bluntly and unconvincing. "Doing a few jobs here and there, y'know. Nothing exciting."

Lana hummed, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Mr. Phelps told me that he seen you with that Maybank kid the other day," she informed, your face falling for a millisecond as her words sunk in. She looked at you, tear-stained face and serious gaze, lips pulled to a thin line. "I told you to stay from those guys, Y/N."

"I was helping him deliver groceries, mom," you deadpanned - which wasn't exactly a lie, if that's when Mr. Phelps had spotted you. Most of your time spent with the gang was mainly off the land and away from prying eyes, whether that be on a boat or the Chateau, so you knew that was the safest bet of when you'd been spotted. "For Heyward's. It's not like I'm hanging out with him on purpose."

Lie, lie, lie. It was becoming alarmingly easy to lie straight through your teeth, and to your mother nonetheless, but you couldn't dare tell her anything, and why should you, when she hadn't told you anything? It took two to Tango, you thought.

"I just don't want you getting hurt," your mother reminded, and you let out a sigh as you nodded, faked closed-mouth smile on your lips. "I'm serious, Y/N, please just be careful out there."

"Always am," you promised (bull-fucking-shit). You turned on your heel, heading towards your room as you called over your shoulder, "I got invited out tonight, by the way. To the movie thing on the North Side. Is it alright if I go, please?"

You waited at your door, hearing your mother sigh from the couch. "Yes, you can go." You smiled, this one more real than all the rest, and thanked her gently. She didn't look back at you though, and the familiar unspoken tension was back with vengeance. You couldn't wait to get out of it.

The movie night was a welcome distraction from your frustrations with the treasure hunt, the haunting memories of your dad, and the tension with your mom. It was only you, Kie, Pope and JJ that attended - John B having seemingly disappeared for the day, none of the gang having heard from him. You'd managed to leave the house with relatively no questioning from your mom, and met JJ a little way down the block.

("Woah, keep two feet away from me please," you'd joked, halting in your tracks as you spotted him standing there. He'd furrowed his brows at you, frown etched on his face. "My cover's been blown, everyone knows about us!

He just looked even more confused, eyes squinting down at you as you raised a hand and layed it across your forehead dramatically. "What'd you mean?" He questioned, eyes darting around, seemingly searching for answers in the air around you both. "What, do people know we sleep together or something?"

You'd rolled your eyes, shoving him gently when you were close enough, beginning to walk away. "No, you doof," you chuckled. "Mr. Phelps ratted me out to my mom, told her that he saw us together the other day. I had to tell her that we were just delivering groceries for Pope's dad."

"Ah," JJ nodded, shooting you a mischievous grin. "We better go into hiding then, I'm thinking... log cabin in the mountains, all fur sheets and deer heads on the walls, ooh a hot tub too."

You laughed, "Trying to whisk me away there, Maybank?"

You were joking, but his eyes were surprisingly serious as he looked at you. "Always, Grubbs.")

The field was already packed full of people by the time the four of you arrived, groups of people scattered around, idle chatter filling the air. It was being held on the Kook side of the island, and your eyes swooped over the people, most of them being Kook's themselves, expensive clothing and an aura that just screamed, I'm better than you. It made you feel uneasy, but you tried not to think about it as Kiara led you through the crowds.

"I'm so glad they're still doing this," she tells you all, sighing happily. The faces of the guys revealed they were not nearly as happy to be there as she was, while you were simply just glad to be out of your house once again. "Keep calm, carry on. Back to normal, OBX life, y'know?" She stopped once she found a decent spot, turning to the three of you. "Aren't you guys glad I made you come?"

"Ecstatic." Pope deadpanned, sarcastic lull to his tone.

"My couch was pretty comfy." JJ piped up.

"I'm just happy to be out the house, I guess." You said.

You were aware why the guys were so uncertain about being there; it wasn't so long ago that Pope was sinking Topper Thorton's boat, you and JJ accompanying, and now you were all on his side of the island. Not only that, but you knew that if Topper was to discover that it was Pope who'd done his boat in, it wouldn't just be Topper that confronted him - it would be the full Happy Days Gang. Nothing was ever a fair game when it came to Kooks.

Kiara excused herself to go buy soda's from the conession stand, and you shifted as you seated yourself on the blanket you'd bought, having opted out of bringing a chair. You sat in front of JJ, his legs touching your back.

"What's wrong with you guys?" You turned your head when Pope and JJ began to whisper, the former's panicked eyes landing on you as you frowned at the pair.

"Topper and Rafe are on my ass," Pope revealed. "They know I sunk Topper's boat."

You sighed heavily, muttering a shit as JJ grabbed his friend by the arm, focusing his attention towards him. "They can't prove it, okay. Just deny, deny, deny."

Pope nodded along, muttering along with him as you watched the pair, before your eyes moved to Kie that arrived back, her eyes narrowing as she seated herself beside Pope. "Just saw Rafe," she informed, your blood running cold. You could practically feel JJ tense from behind you. "He said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy we know what he did'. What is that?"

"Um, where is he?" JJ questioned, his tone of voice revealing his hidden anxiety.

"Right there." Kiara nodded her head, right in the direction of where Rafe Cameron and his goons sat, as you, Pope and JJ whipped around, Pope practically turning his full body in their direction. You groaned as JJ desperately urged him to turn back round, and away from their taunting eyes.

"The whole death squad!" Pope exclaimed, anxiety riding off of him in waves.

"Don't stare, bro," JJ urged, hand wrapping around Pope's shoulders. You tuned out the rest of the blonde's words as he informed you all that he'd be coming out swinging if they were to corner him, and you felt dread build as you heard his last words. "If that doesn't work, I got this right here." He patted his bag.

"JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here," Kie practically begged. "JJ, there are kids!"

You focused your attention straight ahead of you as the guys continued to argue; Pope simply telling Kie that it might go down to her line of questioning, her brown eyes darting back and forth between you all. You refused to meet her eyes, however, and were glad when the large screen ahead of you suddenly lit up. "Oh, look," you exclaimed, laughing nervously. "The movie's starting."

And it was left at that - JJ whispering deny, deny, deny to Pope once more before you all turned your attention to the screen, trying to block out the intruding thoughts of having the knowledge that the gang of Kooks were staring you down, awaiting your next move like a predator would its pray.

All was going fine - the movie was good, everyone's attention on the black and white screen. You tried not to think about Rafe and Topper, or the gold or your dad, and definitely not the feel of JJ's legs either side of you, trapping you into his hold. You let yourself believe that everything would be okay, and then Pope had revealed he needed a piss, and everything had gone to shit.

JJ had accompanied him, and the two had set off behind the screen, hidden away from Rafe's watchful eyes. They hadn't done a good enough job to be discreet though, and you immediately took notice of Rafe, Topper and Kelce making their way towards the opposite side of the screen. You swore, catching Kie's attention as she questioned, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Looks like that piss break just got a lot more complicated," you said, and realisation dawned on her face. It didn't take the pair of you long to locate the guys, all in various forms of fighting, as you and Kie screamed at them to stop. You grabbed Rafe's arm mid-swing, his fist raised and ready to send a hit to JJ's face from where Kelce had hold of him. "Stop it, you dick!"

You let out a scream as you were sent flying back from his shove, Rafe's blue eyes wild and crazed as he glared down at you. "Stay out of this, Grubbs!" He barked, and without a moments hesitation sent a fist hurling towards JJ's cheek.

Kiara had jumped on Topper's back from the small distance away from you, and you took a moment to ready yourself before hurtling towards Rafe from your crouched position, tackling him to the ground from his knees, effectively stopping his blows. He seemed stunned for a second, staring dazed up at you before he promptly threw you off of him, shoving you to the ground without a care. "Don't fucking touch me," he growled down at you, and you groaned slightly as the wind was knocked from you.

You heard JJ from somewhere above you, shouting insults at Rafe and repeating your name over and over. You lifted yourself from the ground just as Topper puts Pope in a headlock, his tight grip causing the dark skinned boys breath to leave him in choked gasps. You shoved at Rafe's back once more, sending him stumbling forward before he whipped around, hand reaching out and grabbing you by the face, tugging you so you stood nose-to-nose with him.

"I said," he ground out darkly, eyes boring into yours. "Don't fucking touch me."

You were beginning to fear what would come next before a sudden glow caught your eye from the side, the movie screen lighting up in harsh flames. Rafe dropped you, your hands moving to rub over the imprint he'd left, as you looked towards where Kie stood, JJ lighter in hand. Screams of terror echoed from the other side, as people began to flee, and it didn't take long for the three Kooks on your side to follow, sprinting quickly from the scene. Fucking cowards, you thought.

JJ's hands were on you before you could even blink, eyes earnest and worried as they looked over you, your cheeks red from the earlier grip Rafe had on you. "You good?" He asked you, slightly out of breath. You nodded, repeating the question to him. He smiled lightly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

The night had ended promptly there, Kie dropping you off at your respected houses. You'd bid them all a good night, and as quietly as possible made your way into your home, not wanting your mother to see the marks imprinted on your face from Rafe's fingers. Luckily, she'd already been in bed, and it didn't take long for you to crawl into yours, thoughts of the day and a certain blonde running through your mind.

The next morning you'd met the gang (save for John B, who was still seemingly missing) at the Heyward's store; your morning had been spent desperately trying to hide the red marks that Rafe's fingers had left from your mom before she could notice and ground you in your room for the rest of your life. It had a been a success for the most part, and she asked no questions as you left the house, though you took note of her uncertain expression as you bid your goodbyes.

"Have you heard from John B?" You asked Kiara who was working closest to you. You had realised the brunette boy was missing from the group upon your arrival, and you couldn't help the worries in your mind at where he could be or what could have happened to him.

"No, nothing. Have you?" She returned the question, brown eyes meeting yours as you shook your head no, a short sigh falling from her lips. "Neither have the guys. What're you thinking?" Kiara eyed you, gaze suddenly sullen. "Do you think something's happened?"

"I don't know, Kie," you told her because honestly, you didn't. John B had a target on his back, that much was for sure. Son of Big John, once owner of the proclaimed death compass. Your mind thought back to the two men that had raised your home, and chased the guys on more than one occasion, and you couldn't help but think the worst. "I'm sure he's fine, though."

Kiara nodded, though she looked anything but sure. "Yeah, you're probably right." The pair of you continued on with your respected work, JJ's and Pope's voice trailing from somewhere in the store as they talked. "You're working Midsummers, right?"

You groaned, nodding. Kiara laughed at your sour expression. "Oh yeah, second year running. To be honest, I'm surprised they let me work it after last year, my customer service must be better than my right hand hook," you joked, chuckle escaping your lips as you thought back to the Midsummer's party the year before. Your dad had gotten you the gig, because he was a weasel like that - always talking people into getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was the gas bill to be paid, and his face just didn't fit the portfolio to be serving Kook's their drinks at their fancy party, and so it had left left to you to do just that.

The night had ended with Dean Kipp on his ass after his hand had fallen on your ass, and you'd been let off with a warning as the guy clutched his bloody nose and called you everything ranging from psycho bitch to slutty pogue. Your surprise was immense when you were offered a job again this year, and a large amount of the reason you'd said yes was just so you could see the look on his face when he saw you.

"He totally deserved that," Kiara remarked, grinning. You smiled back, the pair of you sharing a laugh as you returned to your work.

For a second, you let your worries wash away as you were pulled into a conversation with the gang, your spirts high for the first time in a while. You were happy, you realised. What had started off as being the worst period of your life was slowly turning into the best, the gang and treasure hunt a blessing in disguise. The four of you shared laughs and joked back and forth as you worked, and you found yourself to be perfectly content.

All that came crashing down when Pope's father entered the shop, police officer trailing behind him. "Hey, Pope! There's someone here to see you."

You stopped dead-on, the rest of the gang halting in their movements as you all stared towards the officer you recognised as Shoupe. "Evening, officer." Pope greeted, gulping.

"I have an arrear warrant for felony destruction of property," Deputy Shoupe approached your group, handing the said warrant to Pope's dad. From beside you, JJ tensed, and when you turned to look at him, his blue eyes glanced down at you, freshly beaten face pulled into an anxious grimace as his jaw clenched. Shoupe had gotten remarkably closer, hands reaching for the handcuffs placed on his belt. "Hands where I can see 'em."

Pope glanced desperately towards JJ, who shook his head quickly, his words, though unspoken, clear as day. Deny, deny, deny. But denying wasn't going to get Pope out of handcuffs, you decided as you stepped forward, tone pleading as you demanded, "Stop, you can't just do this!"

"Out of my way please, Miss Grubbs," Shoupe dismissed you, sounding almost bored as he shoved past you, beginning to handcuff Pope who can do nothing but allow it to happen, his anxious eyes focusing on one spot as reality began to sink in.

"What did he do, Shoupe?" Mr. Heyward questioned in disbelief, watching as his son was getting arrested in front of his very eyes.

"Take a look at the warrant," the cop said simply as he begun to tug Pope out of the store.

It was chaos. Everyone was shouting, demanding answers and hurling insults. JJ is screaming something about somebody paying him, Kiara is in your ear asking what the hell was going on, Mr. Heyward is hurtling questions towards both his son and Shoupe. Passbyers stared at the scene, whispering to each other as they walked by or stopped to watch. Everything blurred together, and you could do nothing but watch the scene unfold in front of you.

Those fucking assholes, you thought. Topper Thorton came to mind, tan skin and bleached ends, million dollar smile and designer clothes. You remembered his wild gaze as he held Pope in a headlock the night before, close to almost killing him. And yet he was off somewhere doing god knows what, probably shopping for a new boat to replace the one he'd lost, not that he probably cared all that much about it in the first place. Rafe Cameron's eyes entered your mind next, and you felt a shudder run through you as you remembered them boring into yours as he held your face frighteningly tight and close to his own.

JJ's voice was suddenly breaking through your stream of thoughts - "It wasn't him!" He was calling out, eyes directed on Shoupe who paused and turned toward him, Pope's face disbelieving from behind him. "It was me."

It sunk in then what JJ was trying to do, and you whirled around from his left, quickly shaking your head as you muttered, "JJ." He ignored you however, and stepped forward towards where the officer was standing, Pope still in his arms.

"He tried to talk me out of it," JJ continued. "But I was mad because he had just been beaten up, I was sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit." He was stood directly in front of Shoupe, almost boot-to-boot. You couldn't see his face from where you were, and you were almost thankful for the fact as you heard him direct his words to Pope, "I can't let you take the fall for what I did. You've got too much to lose."

"JJ, what are you doing?" Pope demanded. His face was confused, just as much in shock as the rest of you. For a second, his eyes leave JJ's and land on yours, a shaky breath leaving your lips as his eyes were practically pleading.

"I'm telling the truth, for once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth," JJ announced loudly. "I took his old man's boat, too."

"What the hell?" Mr. Heyward questioned, though nobody paid him any mind. Your gaze was too focused on the unfolding scene of JJ Maybank taking the fall for something he most definitely do, and you could do nothing but watch it happen.

Your heart finally shattered when JJ's last words entered your ears, "He's a good kid. You know where I'm from."

He only looked back once as he was put into the handcuffs that previously held Pope, and that wasn't until he was shoved in the back of the police car and the door was slammed behind him. You walked closer towards it, hand on Pope's back as he watched his best friend get arrested for something he'd done, and you both knew it. When JJ glanced up and out of the window, bruised face clear behind the glass, his sea blue eyes caught yours and then he smiled.

The fucker.

You could only watch helplessly as the police car was driven away and out of sight, Pope throwing his cap down in a fit of anger as he stormed off, his dad calling after him, Kie landing to your right. The dark haired girl wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you to her side gently.

"JJ'll be alright," she told you, voice confident though her face read anything but as she glanced in the direction the car had been driven off. "He always is."

But what, a voice in the back in your head nagged at you, if this time he wasn't?

And then it dawned on you: you actually really, generally, sincerely and whole-heartedly cared about JJ Maybank.

(And the thought scared you more than you would ever like to admit.)

& to the lovely people that asked to be tagged in this, love you all x @ponyboys-sunsets @mysticsthinking @danicarosaline

[celest1all]

Rage Is The Sound Of Love

PAIRING / dean winchester x fem!reader

SUMMARY / dean gets pissed at the reader for being reckless on the hunt, but what was he exactly annoyed about?

WARNINGS / angst, swearing, mentions of blood, anger, kissing, illusions to sex, my writing, idk.

AUTHORS NOTE / angry dean is, and always will be, my kink.

[Gifs aren't mine!!! Got them off Google so creds to them <33]

One of the many, many ways you could tell that Dean was annoyed was by his face. His face held every emotion -- every thought that he couldn't say, or couldn't bring himself to say.

For example; Dean had a habit of clenching his jaw so hard that had you wondering how his teeth didn't snap. Also, his eyes would also send a glare that could a hundred percent kill its recipient if they were able to you.

And that 'recipient' just happened to be you. But he wasn't just a teeny bit annoyed, he was enraged. Boiling, seeing red, rage.

Why was he so pissed at you? Well, you were being reckless which, quite obviously, isn't a good thing to be in your line of work (if being a hunter is even qualified to be a job, since you technically weren't being paid).

The case was supposed to be easy, just a few vamps that you would kill and then you would return back to the bunker and all would be well, right?

Wrong.

Apparently, the 'few' vamps turned out to be a nest. Even though Cas had joined you on this case, you were still outnumbered; thirteen to four.

And when you're outnumbered, shit hits the fan...or blood hits the wall, in this case. Your blood, more specifically.

Thankfully, between the four of you, you had managed to gank all the blood sucking freaks but not before one of them had managed to turn your machete around on you, causing you to slice your leg open.

Cas, being the angel of the Lord that he is, he was able to heal you -- not before giving you a disapproving shake of his head.

Sam, on the other hand, was just glad you were okay. You were like a sister to him and you were alive, that was all that mattered.

You just wished that's how Dean felt.

Upon entering the Men of Letters bunker, the first thing that hit you was just how cold it was; similar to how Dean was being to you.

You knew for a fact that Dean -- perhaps Cas aswell -- was going to yell at you for your behaviour, but your leg being sliced and then being healed had done a number on you.

So, you went straight to your room and threw yourself on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was peaceful, kind of. You could still feel the blade piercing through your skin on your leg every so often, and it hurt like a bitch. Logically, you knew that your leg was now fine, but that didn't stop you from checking every so often.

A few minutes had passed before your peace was rudely ripped away from you by someone barrelling into your room.

"Uh, what the fuck?" You cursed, lifting your head up to see who the intruder was. When you saw who it was, you fell back against your bed in a huff. "Go away."

"No." His gruff voice replied, annoyance lacing his tone.

"This my room, Winchester. I can kick you out if I want to." You stated, flipping him off from where you were splayed.

"I need to talk to you." Now that got your attention, but not enough for you to move.

"Y/N." He stated plainly, causing you to roll your eyes and lean on your elbows to look at him.

"You said you needed to talk to me, so talk." You stared at him, waiting to him to explain. During the beat of silence, you took the time to examine his features. You had always found him attractive, every woman and man would've, but you didn't realise just how attractive he was. Although, you could still tell he was annoyed by the subtle tick to his jaw.

"What you did was stupid," He crossed his arms over his chest and used the tone of voice that always oozed authority, "and beyond careless."

You rolled your eyes once again, but didn't interrupt. "And if Cas wasn't there, then -- "

"But Cas was there."

Dean glared at you slightly before carrying on. "What I'm saying is; you could have gotten yourself killed."

You got up and stood in front of the six foot one, dark blond man. "I didn't, though. Shouldn't that account for something?"

Dean's eyes flicked across your face, chuckling dryly. "Do you really not get it?"

You could feel your face scrunch up in confusion, "Get what?"

"You could've died!" He reiterated, arms flailing about to emphasise his point. "You could've died before I was able to tell you that --"

Dean cut himself off with a heavy sigh, shaking his head and began turning around to head out your door.

You stood there, wide eyed before your body moved infront of his, effectively blocking him from the exit. You put your arms on either side of the door frame as your eyes stared into his. "Finish the sentence."

He shook his again and tried to move you, "Winchester, I swear if you don't finish that goddamn sentence then I will make Rowena hide a hex bag somewhere in your room!" You demanded, fists clenched.

"Rowena?"

"Seriously? That's all you got from that?" You asked. "We're good friends, but that's not the point! I'm not letting you leave this room until you finish what you were about to say." You breathed heavily, getting more annoyed by the second. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You watched Dean's face, his mouth slowly forming into a smirk. "How about I show you, sweetheart?"

You frowned, the annoyance leaving your body to make room for confusion. "How can you show me the end of a sent--hmph." Dean's lips crashed onto yours, swallowing your words.

It took you a few seconds to reciprocate the kiss due to surprise, but you did nonetheless. The kiss was full of everything; rage, fear, love and adoration.

By the time you both pulled away, you were gasping for oxygen, smiles gracing yours two's lips. "Woah, okay. Wasn't expecting that."

"You told me to finish my sentence, but you didn't tell me how to finish it." Dean shrugged, smirking once again.

"I guess you're not pissed at me, now?" You questioned, smiling at him.

"Oh no, I'm still pissed." He stated, and you could feel your face drop. "But I guess we're just going to have to find a different way to channel that rage."

Your eyes widened in understanding. Apparently, you were going to be in for a long night.