#it hurts my eyes a little so just in case

[lovemomhatepolice]

what brought back that smile? - lando norris

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pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

warnings: kinda established relationship, fresh relationship, curious muppets!, English is my second language!

type: fluff, pure fluff

word count: 3,5k

summary: 5 times when someone asked the reason for Lando's sudden surge of happiness, but he preferred to keep his sweet secrets to himself

more content: f1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist

Since Lando Norris broke up with his then-girlfriend Luishina in 2022, no one has seen him this happy since. Of course, there have been moments where Lando walked around smiling - for example, when he won his first race in Miami or partying with friends in Ibiza. On more than one occasion, fans saw him joking and laughing until his stomach hurt with other drivers, but further down the line, everyone knew that the old Lando was gone. The one who laughed through love. The one foolishly in love, who proved it at every turn. Since his former relationship, Lando hasn't bonded with anyone - there were only rumors of fleeting romances or PR relationships. Until recently. In fact, no one knows when it took place. And since when Lando felt like a foolishly infatuated boy again.

THE FIRST TIME: Oscar Piastri When Oscar noticed changes in Lando's behavior, it was not much before the Japanese race. Or at least it wasn't so visible before. Norris was walking around smiling from ear to ear, constantly forgetting what he should do or who he should talk to about the changes in the car. No one paid much attention to it, and Oscar initially tried to ignore it as well, and winning in Miami a month later further eclipsed the spy's thoughts. After all, Lando had won his first race after so long in Formula One and so many times standing on the podium. The Mclaren drivers weren't the best of friends on the grid, but Oscar knew it wasn't because of winning the race. Or at least not just because of that.

Oscar was curious, even if he said very little about his life, the Lando case drilled him from the bottom up. And it started off small.

One morning 2 weeks after the Miami race, Lando showed up for a meeting with a goofy smile on his face. His attention was focused on everything during the strategy discussion, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” asked Oscar, poking his teammate under the table. As if awakened from his trance, Lando stopped tapping his fingers against his thigh and turned his head toward the Australian, smiling that silly grin again. “Yeah, all good, mate. “ he asked, tilting his head to the side. Oh, how foolishly charmed he was. “Why do you ask?”

Oscar shrugged. “I dunno. You just seem... happier these days. What brought back that smile?”

The question hung in the air for a long moment. Lando hung his head and laughed quietly under his breath, as if he was thinking whether he wanted to say it or rather not. And that was the option he chose, keeping his new infatuation to himself.

“Well, you know, buddy, I won a race recently. A chance to celebrate, huh?”

Oscar laughed, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else behind that smile, and that Lando was lying right in his eyes. Something - or someone - had brought back that trademark Lando smile. But Oscar decided to let it go for now.

Meanwhile, Lando was smiling to himself. Was it really that noticeable? Could everyone now know his sweet secret?

Such questions were cluttering his mind, but he tried not to worry about them. They were quickly superseded by thoughts of [Y.N]. It was wild how fast she had slipped into his life. What had started as a chance meeting turned into hours of effortless conversation, late-night phone calls, and a connection that had somehow brought him back to life. He hadn't felt this way since…. well, he couldn't remember the last time. And that was the point of it all.

MUPPETS: Carlos Sainz Jr Carlos had known Lando since 2019, so this year was their 5th anniversary of knowing each other. From the very beginning, the men, despite the age difference, got along great. And they soon became friends, too, supporting each other in worse and better moments. You could say they knew each other like the back of their hand, so while Lando was drifting away more and more each possible time during their conversations, the Spaniard had no more questions or thoughts. He was well aware that his younger friend's head was occupied by not something, but someone.

The sun beat down on the lush green of the golf course, the Spanish heat was unrelenting even in the early hours of the day. Carlos set up for his shot, squinting against the blinding glare, while Lando stood to the side, waiting his turn. It was a rare moment of calm before the chaos of the Spanish Grand Prix weekend, and Carlos was glad to be spending it with his best friend.

Until he saw Lando miss every time, which hadn't happened all that often before. Well, okay, Lando was worse than Carlos at golf, but to that extent?

And those constant glances at the phone, which he was so reluctant to leave in the golf cart.

“Ay, muppet. What the hell is wrong with you?” rang out Carlos' voice as he hit the ball.

Of course it flew cleanly where it was supposed to fly. But what's the pleasure of playing as your friend drills a hole in the grass with his club, his other hand constantly checking his phone screen?

"Huh?" Lando snapped out of his trance. This had been happening to him more and more often lately, nay, it had been happening to him for more than three months now.

“You’ve been smiling like an idiot all day,��� Carlos teased, though his tone was softer, more curious than mocking. “Actually, you’ve been like this for weeks like not months now. So, tell me—who is she?”

Lando’s cheeks flushed pink, and he quickly turned his attention to the golf ball at his feet, fiddling with his club. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, but there was a grin he couldn’t quite suppress. And in fact, I don't think he wanted to get rid of it.

Carlos laughed, poking Lando playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, cabrón. I know you too well and it's been a long time since you've been this happy. So who's the lucky girl? Who brought back that smile?”

Lando sighed under his breath - he knew he could trust Carlos, he was his best friend. He just liked the fact that he and [Y.N] were in a closed bubble of happiness that they had made for themselves in three months. Of course it was still fresh and nothing was certain yet, but Lando gave in. To whom as to whom, but to Carlos he already had to tell. It was drilling him from the inside.

“It's … nothing serious,” Lando finally said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. “It's just… I'm meeting someone. I'm trying to keep it discreet.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Dude, I've known you long enough to know when you're serious about someone,” he said, and his voice became softer. “And if she makes you smile like that, I'd say it's more than a casual.”

Lando bit his lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break through. The truth was that [Y.N] had quickly become the best part of his days.

“Maybe,” he admitted, finally meeting Carlos' gaze. “But for now it's just … between us, sure?

Carlos clapped Lando on the back, a broad grin on his face. “I’m happy for you, hermano. And don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone. But I have to say, it’s good to see you like this again.”

They both laughed and Lando already knew he was lost. Together, with Carlos, were like the biggest gossips, so he quickly unlocked his phone, even jumping up and down with happiness, wanting to show Carlos some pictures of them together. What luck befell him when he found out that [Y.N] also loves to take pictures.

Carlos leaned closer, curious. Lando pulled out a photo from a few weeks ago - from his once-in-a-lifetime date with [Y.N]. They were sitting on a blanket in a meadow somewhere by the water, the golden sunset casting a warm glow over them. The girl's head was tilted toward him and resting on his shoulder, her eyes were crinkling with laughter, and Lando looked happier than Carlos had seen him in a long time. His hand was on the girl's shoulders, visibly embracing her closer to him.

“I want her to be the one, you know?” muttered Lando, smiling even wider when he saw the notification from her.

LUCKY CHARM: Lando's parents Lando was able to hide his fresh relationship from his friends, from his fans and from the rest of the world. But he definitely couldn't hide it from his parents and siblings. Not even a month of knowing [Y.N] had passed when he vividly talked about how much he had fallen in love and how he hoped she was the one and last woman in his life. His loved ones were damn happy to finally see the most sincere smile of his entire life on the face of this little Lando Norris.

The air around Silverstone was charged with electricity, and the energy of the home crowd gave Lando joy like no other race on the calendar. Walking through the bustling paddock, he felt lighter than he had in years. It wasn't just the thrill of racing on his own track - it was the realization that somewhere among the sea of faces there was [Y.N], watching him.

Fortunately, he managed to smuggle her into a private hospitality suite, away from prying cameras, journalists and fans. They had been seeing each other for almost four months, in truth they were not a couple, but everything was going for it. Lando wasn't the only one who was foolishly infatuated with the relationship; the girl, like him, walked around with her head in the clouds, as her university colleagues or friends seemed to notice more than once. But in her case it was easier to hide, after all, she didn't have a million eyes on her like Lando did.

When Lando entered his private area in the Mclaren garage, he immediately noticed his parents, sisters and brother, who were smiling at him from ear to ear. The entire Norris family had a close relationship with each other, so of course everyone knew about Lando's new sweetheart, whom he had been dating with for four months.

“And there's our smiling boy!” laughed Lando's mother, hugging her son tightly. The driver laughed under his breath, hugging his family one by one, fortunately in a place where the eyes of others did not reach and they could have a moment of peace. “I'm glad you're all here,” Lando said, stroking his younger sister Flo's hair.

“How could we not be here?” asked Oliver, Lando's brother, laughing under his breath.

The atmosphere was great, however, everyone knew this question would come sooner than perhaps it should?

“Well, you know what, tell us where she is,” said Lando's dad, poking him lightly on the shoulder. “You're laughing so hard, I won't believe she's not here.”

“Yes! Show us finally what brought back that smile,” said his mom, echoing her husband.

Lando felt his face heat up, but he couldn’t keep the grin from spreading. “You two don’t miss a thing, do you?” he said, shaking his head.

“We just want to meet her,” his mum said softly, eyes twinkling with warmth. “We’ve heard so much about her, and if she’s the reason our son’s been so happy lately, we’d love to say hello.”

After a moment's thought, Lando nodded. “All right. I'll bring her - but behave,” he said with nervous but excited energy.

Lando slipped stealthily out of the garage and headed for his room, which only he and a few Mclaren people had access to. Although it was a rather hidden place, [Y.N] did not complain. She could wait out the time until the race in peace, just as she could go out to Mclaren's garage and watch it there. Lando made her as comfortable as possible.

When the girl saw him, she raised her eyes and smiled warmly in his direction. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, everything is fine,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. At the same time, he forced her to get up from the soft couch. “But… there is someone who wants to meet you. My family is even dying to meet the woman of my heart.”

The girl took a deep breath and smiled. “I'd love to meet them.”

Holding hands, they returned to the hospitality. When they went inside, Lando's mother sighed quietly and immediately crossed the room to hug [Y.N]. “Oh, how nice to finally meet you,” she said, and her voice was filled with sincere warmth.

“She's beautiful,” Cisca whispered, looking at Lando. The boy only whispered a quiet “I know” and laughed under his breath.

Immediately the whole family greeted the girl, hugging her tightly and bestowing kind words on her, including telling her how happy they were that she was making Lando so happy again. And everything was somehow better. His parents and siblings were talking to the girl he'd had in his heart for several months, and everything was going smoothly. Lando was just standing off to the side, keeping his hand on her back and giving her a little kiss to make her feel better. But he was probably the most stressed one there.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-start jitters begin to overwhelm him. But today he felt a little better than usual.

“I have to go now,” he said reluctantly, turning to face the girl. His parents moved away to give them a moment of privacy.

“You can do it, you're amazing on the track,” she purred, placing her hands on his shoulders and gently correcting his suit.

Lando merely smiled in her direction and without hesitation placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a quick but tender kiss. This was not how they had imagined their first kiss, but in that moment it was their best memory and the time this kiss could have happened. Lando pulled away from [Y.N], their eyes met and they both smiled at each other, giggling under their breath.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-race jitters starting to creep in.

“I’ve got to go,” he said reluctantly, turning to her. His parents stepped back to give them a moment of privacy.

“Good luck out there,” she whispered, her eyes shining with pride. “You’re going to do amazing.”

Lando smiled, but there was a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “I hope so. This one’s important,” he said softly.

[Y.N] reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You’ve got this, Lando. I believe in you.”

Without thinking, Lando leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a swift, impulsive kiss. It wasn’t planned, but in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He pulled back, their eyes locking, and they both smiled.

“For good luck,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

And even if he came in third place after the race, it didn't bother him much. He won something better and it was an amazing woman.

HI IBIZA: Max Fewtrell stream Max knew Lando since they were kids. Both could not imagine life without the other person, they were inseparable. Even if it didn't work out for them to be Formula One drivers by their side, it didn't change anything. They were always side by side, and as soon as Max heard about Lando's new crush, he knew this was the one. Norris had never talked so seriously and eagerly about any girl before. And Max liked to tease him about it. But at the same time, he was damn happy.

The warm glow of sunset in Ibiza paints everything with a golden sheen. Lando Norris, Max Fewtrell and their group of friends held a casual live stream at their bungalow, which they rented for the whole group of friends. This stream was definitely different from their typical ones, where they played games on two different sides of the screen, but that was good too.

Everyone was more muted than at times when they were playing and shouting at each other. However, the biggest difference could be felt in Lando. He was more subdued, gently but sincerely smiling, and his eyes shone with such happiness that you could envy him.

The stream had been going on for about an hour, and the fans didn't run out of questions. They were inundated with the same questions as always, but today they had more opportunity to answer them because they weren't stressed by the background game. Lando kept getting questions about the Championship, the races, the competition and some side silliness. Until Max caught one significant comment among thousands of others. And of course he had to ask them.

Fan comment: "Lando, what brought back that smile? It's been a long time since we've seen you so happy, and of course that's great, but what's your secret?"

Max looks at Lando with a smile and winks. "Good question," he says, leaning back in his chair. "So, man, what's been making you so happy lately?"

"Oh, you know. Life has been better lately. Beautiful weather, sunshine, we have a beach house. The break from racing is good for me too, my head isn't as busy," Lando replied, playing with his hair and smiling under his breath.

Oh how he lied, how he lied to keep his bubble of happiness calm even longer.

"Really? Gee, I guess I agree with that comment, you're somehow happier lately," said Max, glancing at Lando with a teasing look. He remembered well how Lando had talked down his relationship on the stream, but he wasn't going to do the same to him. "Or maybe you've found a hobby other than Formula One?"

"Maybe," he laughed lightly under his breath, feeling the warmth inside his body. "I guess I just got old and I'm not that rebellious 20-year-old anymore "

"Oh, it's definitely old age, you name it" Max laughed and went back to looking for interesting comments, leaving the matter of Lando's happiness. He wanted his friend to still have peace from prying eyes.

After the stream was over, everyone went their separate ways. Some decided to have a bonfire, but Lando felt he needed the solitude. He walked out to the beach, which they had right outside the gate of their cottage, and felt the cooler evening wind brush his face. He smiled under his breath when he saw [Y.N] by the shore. It wasn't a smile that the cameras could see; he reserved this one for her alone.

The girl was wearing a white loose dress that swayed gently in the wind, and her hair was tousled by the wind. It wasn't a moment before she heard him and gently turned toward him, giving him a beautiful smile. "Have you finished the stream yet?"

"It's been a while now," Lando stepped closer, feeling the sand under his feet surround him pleasantly. "I had to get away from the chaos. And the fans are getting curious, they asked what secret I have"

Girl raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Secret? What secret?"

Lando smiles mischievously and walks closer. "That I'm the happiest I've been in years." - he says in a quiet but sincere voice.

[Y.N] smiles, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Without another word, she steps into his arms, and Lando doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close. They stand there for a moment, just the two of them, the sound of the waves crashing in the background. Lando takes a deep breath and places a kiss on her hair, pulling her even closer to him. It was the peace he had needed for a long time

FIRST CHRISMTAS: [Y.N] Lando and [Y.N] had been together for almost half a year. Their lives were filled with happiness that neither of them had ever experienced before. From the first day, they understood each other like two peas in a pod, and that's how it stayed. That's why she was surprised by how happy Lando was.

The couple in love are together in the kitchen, with the countertop in front of them strewn with flour and other ingredients for making gingerbread cookies. [Y.N] is wearing one of Lando's voluminous sweaters and humming a Christmas carol, pacing next to the countertop. Lando, on the other hand, dressed in his loose Mclaren T-shirt and Christmas pajama pants, is trying to roll out the dough, but it's not going well. His hands are covered in flour and the dough keeps sticking to the rolling pin. Well, it's easier to say that his whole body is covered in flour.

"Do you need help, chef?" - asks [Y.N], leaning against the countertop and looking at him with an amused smile.

Lando raises his gaze, feigning impatience. "It's harder than it looks, sure?" - He laughs, combing his flour-dusted hair with his hand. "I thought baking was supposed to be easy."

"It's easy, you just have some manual problems," the girl laughs and moves to his side, gently taking the rolling pin from his hands. "Here, let me," she says, guiding him to the side. Their fingers brush as she takes over, a soft, tender moment.

"Sure, my baking queen," the boy laughs, looking at her with adoration.

"You could do the icing." the girl says, pointing to the already made gingerbread cookies.

Lando's eyes brighten, his smile widening. "Icing, huh? That's sounds better." He grabs a piping bag and starts filling it, but as he attempts to pipe a simple design, it all goes horribly wrong.

“Lando!” she laughs, her eyes crinkling with amusement. The icing has spilled everywhere.

He looks down at his hands, dripping with icing. “Well, that’s not what I had in mind…” He shrugs sheepishly.

“You’re adorable when you try, you know that?” She leans in and wipes a bit of icing from his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin.

“And you’re just adorable,” he says, moving closer to her.

Lando’s hands quickly find their place on her waist, and his face is twisted into a genuine big smile. They both giggle, putting the matter of the cookies aside.

“What brought that smile again, huh?” the girl asks, touching his lips, which is also dirty with icing.

“You,” he says simply, and his voice carries a quiet sincerity that makes her heart skip a beat. "It was always you"

For a moment, they both stand in silence, the hum of the Christmas music in the background, the quiet crackling of the small fire in the corner of the livingroom adding to the coziness of the apartment. It’s a peaceful stillness, the kind that only exists between two people who’ve found something real.

A/N: i know it's no nut november and this should be smut but i swear when i had a vision i had to write this. i hope you like it because i won't lie, i fucking love it!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[jesuistrestriste]

cw (18+): sub!art, afab + femme!character, age gap, crying/dacryphilia, art being a sad and lonely hot guy in his forties, tashi and art never really got together, creampie

˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢ ˚ ﹒⟢

dilf!art getting with a pretty young thing from down the block. . .

he always admired her effortless confidence and the way her body moved when she walked down the street to the corner store every weekend.

always watched her return from his brownstone apartment window; a pack of cinnamon gum and a case of peach seltzer in her hands.

she’s beautiful and bouncy and everything he didn’t get to have in his youth when he was too sucked into tennis to let himself live a little. he lost tashi to patrick. that was that. and he never tried dating again until about ten or so years ago.

they were all flings that crashed and burned their way through his thirties. meaningless moments where all he was left with was a wet dick and a heaviness in his chest. he hated it. he was done with it.

until her.

she was different.

she sparked a conversation with him one day when they ran into each other outside his doorstep. she was cracking jokes that only made her seem more intriguing because art didn’t understand the social context behind them— he was no longer hip and cool, he’d accepted it. but that, combined with the pop of her hip she did when she was making him laugh (not to mention the way she smacked her gum + batted her lashes when she smiled; all pearly whites) made him feel like even more of a creep.

but now she’s bouncing on his cock and gazing down at him while he gasps and squirms like a livewire underneath her.

they’ve only really known each other for a week and a half.

“say thank you, Artie,” she purrs, her hand tracing the spattered flush on his chest, “say it.”

he bucks his hips up as much as he can to meet her movements, and bites his lip hard enough to taste metal when his tip bumps her cervix.

“thank you, oh my god, thank you— thank you, thank you—! ha-aah-!”

he babbles; a broken record of whines and shaky moans. his throat hurts from all of the sounds being pulled from him when the most he’s talked all month has come from just a couple of boring, remote interviews about his athletic career.

and her, of course.

god, it’s all her..

he swallows and keens, and then his eyes are watering.

and then he’s sobbing. he’s choking on his tears and yet he’s still feeling the tight coil of warmth tense further and further and further-

“don’t cry,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss the wetness from his cheeks, her hips swiveling to ride him harder just as the first slimy blurt of his orgasm spills inside, “you’re a good boy, okay? you’re perfect… a total catch…”

she smells like candy. she’s wiping his tears now.

“oh fuck, thank you-uu—hnghh!”

art lifts his hips, his face crumpling with pleasure and sadness, before he yelps and his climax wipes him out. his whole body trembles as he feels his cock pulse and coat her pussy with gooey clots of his spend. he’s practically wheezing.

he grips onto her hips fiercely; like if he doesn’t squeeze hard enough she’ll just go *poof*, and then he’ll be alone again.

“.. ungh, ‘m sorry, im cumming inside you, im cumming, im so sorry,” he whimpers, the aftershocks leaving him feeling bare and weak. stripped of all of his armor. if he even had any left to begin with.

she kisses his shoulder gently, and then she’s dipping her glossy lips down to whisper right next to his ear. her dainty necklace chills his skin when it dangles from her body and meets his collarbone. she’s so close to him.

“don’t worry, Mr. Donaldson…

you’ll be a great daddy.”

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

im STUDYINGGGG AGAIN hahaha and i decided to read ⬇️

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

so u see… there’s this bird and this bee…

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

why r u lowkey funny 😭 girly is going through it but she can’t cry bc she needs to keep her makeup intact is hilarious to me

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

WHAT IF RUTHIE KNOWS

That would be so him, though.

oh my god

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

like i said she’s FUNNNYYYY

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this… this thing inside you.

okokokok i love that she's hypocritical because all her motives makes sense and the sense of flow is so perfectly-paced it makes me wanna scream

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.Rafe. 

a GUN

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

THIS BITCH

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

im actually shaking

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

this motion is so him too

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her. 

WHAT IF SHE TOLD HIM TO APOLOGIZE

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

i would be literally committing mass murders rn

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head. 

literally get a grip

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

bro idolizes his dad wayyy too much

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

i love her so much

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

there would be nothing but god stopping me from murdering this man

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

she’s so bitchy i love her

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

TOPPER HAND ME A GLOCK

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

she's actually so real

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

TELL HIM GIRLY POP

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

he likes SOFIA makes me wanna scream

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

i read this as pope heyward and went LEAVE MY MAN POPE OUT OF THIS

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

i wish she DID OHMYGOD

💌 — the visceral anger i feel for rafe right now makes me wanna register for a gun. also also, their fight that cuts so deep because they know each other so well is done to PERFECTION and not only that, i LOVE LOVE LOVE how you can follow reader's train of thoughts—so even if she's hypocritical in her response, it makes perfect sense. lastly, rafe has the fucking audacity i would've slapped him so hard he would've saw his dad ok done

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - THREE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x Sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, of abortion, health risks & death.

Two lines.

Two bold, definitive lines.

You blinked. Once, twice, but it didn’t change. It wasn’t going away. 

Two lines, clear as fucking day, staring back at you like they were taunting you.

The universe was laughing right in your face. You felt everything plummet to the very bottom of the earth—the room, the floor, your stomach—it all just plummeted, like you’d been pushed off a cliff with no warning.

The test fell from your grip, clattering onto the marble countertop, but you didn’t care. You backed away from it like it was something radioactive, something dangerous that could destroy you if you got too close. But it already had, hadn’t it?

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

You knew how, obviously. You weren’t that dumb. All you could see in your head was Rafe’s stupid fucking face. His name alone made you want to punch something, preferably his balls. 

You were pregnant? With his kid? You were so careful with your life, with your image. 

You could feel the resentment rise in your throat again, the taste of acid making you want to scream. He didn’t get to do this to you. He couldn’t ruin your life twice, fuck you up this bad and then just leave. You wanted to hate him. You did hate him. You hated it. And worse, you hated yourself.

There you were, stuck with this. Alone with a baby you didn’t even want to think about. The thought of it growing inside you—of carrying some piece of him, some reminder of everything he put you through these past two months—it was loathsome. He wasn’t part of this, not anymore. And you weren’t that girl—you didn’t want to be. You weren’t the one who begged for him to care, who waited around for him to come to his senses, who made excuses.

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

You weren’t going to ruin all that hard work over him again. No way.

You pressed a tissue to your eyes—not to cry, but to catch the stray moisture that threatened to ruin your eyeliner—and took a deep breath. You smoothed your dress, and made sure everything was in place. 

You didn’t have time to figure it out, or wallow, or throw shit around. You straightened your back, lifted your chin, and forced yourself to feel nothing. 

Not the panic, not the nausea, not the rage. Nothing. 

You could push it all down, shove it into that deep hellish place in your guts where you put everything else. Later, maybe you’d have to let it out.  

Just as you were spiraling deeper into the pit, there was a knock on the door. Loud. It made you jump, pulling you out of your head for just a second.

“Hey!” It was Lily, her voice bright, oblivious. “It’s time. We need you out there. You’ve got like three minutes.”

Right. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was.

You stepped out of the room, every movement rehearsed, the smile expertly placed on your lips. You were a master at this—faking it, pretending like nothing in the world could touch you.  Not after seeing those two fucking lines.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked through the hallway, down the steps, and into the ballroom. It was filled with kooks being kooks. Fake smiles, fake compliments, fake friendships. You weren’t even listening to a word anyone said to you.

“Hi, darling, you look stunning as always,” someone said, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. You smiled, said thank you, maybe even added a you too, but you couldn’t hear yourself. Your body knew exactly what to do at these things. 

Pretend like you gave a shit.

“Your dad would be so proud,” another woman gushed, and you wanted to throw up. You laughed. 

If he knew what was happening. Pregnant? By a man who didn’t put a ring on your finger?

And there they were, of course—Topper, Kelce and Ruthie, standing in the middle of it all, grinning like idiots. Well, Topper grinning like an idiot.

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes, and you reached out instinctively, but the waiter, somehow, just missed you. The tray floated right past, and before you could even realize the fact that you didn’t have a drink in your hand, her eyes were on you.

“Oh, you're not drinking?” she asked, voice dripping with fake concern. Her eyes flickered, like she knew something, and you swear to god, your eyelid twitched.

“Not yet,” you replied with the same faux smile.

Ruthie just kept watching you with those too-knowing eyes, like she was looking for a crack, some little tell. Because she always did.

You had to be so careful around her.

One wrong move, one second, and she’d be all over it, spreading it around the entire town before you even had a chance to breathe.

Your cousin, completely oblivious, was babbling with Kelce about something—probably golf, or the new boat his dad bought, or some other thing you couldn’t care less about. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but you were mentally still in the bathroom, staring at those two lines.

“So, you invited Rafe?” Kelce said it like it was nothing, like bringing up your ex-boyfriend was the most casual thing in the world.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” You all but growled out, enough to make him choke on his champagne.

He looked genuinely confused, as if he didn’t just mention the one person you’d rather hurl off a bridge at the moment. “Yeah, Rafe. He’s on the list, right?”

Your whole body went rigid. You blinked, trying to keep your face from giving anything away, but inside? You were dying. Ruthie’s eyebrows shot up—oh great, now you had her attention too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kelce, of course, had the nerve to chuckle. 

If Rafe had spoken to them about being taken off the guest list, you’d lose it. The insolence of him mentioning your name—like he still had any right to talk about you? He should’ve buried the memory of you right along with whatever feelings he claimed to have had.

But then, if he hadn’t said a word about it to his best friends—that meant something worse. That meant he didn’t care. He was over it. Over you. 

He hadn’t even bothered to tell them that he wasn’t coming to the gala because he wasn’t thinking about it. Or about you. 

You hated either possibility. 

Kelce like the asshole he was, "I thought you two were—"

"Don't." You cut him off so fast, so hard, he had to take a step back. 

You wanted to grab Top by his clueless shoulders and demand answers. Did Rafe care? Was he coming tonight? You didn’t like any option—every scenario made you want to get on a plane to the other side of the world.  If he was planning to show up despite being cut from the list…Shit, what would you even do? You could feel the headache starting already. 

That would be so him, though.

The arrogance. The entitlement, ignoring boundaries because he never thought the rules applied to him.

Ruthie, of course, was still watching you like a hawk. Her eyes darted between you and Topper, and you could practically feel her mind working, trying to piece together whatever she thought she was seeing. She loved this. She lived for other people’s drama, and you knew she’d sniff out anything that didn’t look flawless.

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

"Ow, Jesus—what the hell?!" he yelped, stumbling to keep up with you in his shiny loafers as you all but hauled him into the nearest corner of the ballroom, out of sight, but still within earshot of the crowd. 

You didn’t care. Let someone see. Let them all see.

You turned to him, barely letting go of his ear, your nails tapping impatiently against your crossed arms. He looked at you like you’d lost your mind, and maybe you had.

“Spill it.”

He was still rubbing his ear. “What are you talking about?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, eyes narrowing. “Is he coming tonight? And don’t you dare lie to me, Top.”

He gulped. Actually gulped. You swore you could see the gears turning in that pretty, empty head of his, trying to figure out if he could weasel his way out of this.

“I— I don’t know, okay?” Topper stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t talked to him today, but I figured… I mean, he always comes to these things, so I assumed—"

That meant Rafe didn’t tell him. That your little stunt hadn’t phased him in the slightest. 

“You assumed?” You leaned in closer, eyes burning holes into his skull. “After everything, you thought it was a good idea to just assume he’d show up and not even bother telling me?”

“I can’t put him on a leash!” His voice rose defensively, eyes wide like he was the one under attack. And yeah, maybe he was. Maybe you’d gone full psycho mode. Rafe always turned you into this—this furious, spiraling, out-of-control version of yourself.

Your cousin was just collateral damage.

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe someone should.”  You said it slowly like you were explaining something to a child. “Do you even know what it’s like?” you hissed, leaning in closer, your voice dropping , “To sit here, wondering if he’s gonna show up like some ticking time bomb?”

Topper’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He didn’t know shit about what you were going through. How could he? He wasn’t the one with a whole life-changing secret burning a hole in his brain, wondering if the father of the child growing inside him was going to ruin everything—again.

“I—I didn’t think it was that serious,” Topper stammered, hands flying up in surrender. “I mean, he’s always been a dick, but—”

You remember the first thing he texted you after weeks of radio silence.

“No,” you interrupted, “He’s more than just a dick. He’s—” You stopped yourself before you said too much. God, you were on the edge, and you needed to rein it in. 

Topper, still looking like a kicked puppy, shifted on his feet. 

“Look, I’ll text him. I’ll ask if he’s coming or not, okay?” He pulled out his phone, typing something quickly. You watched him, arms crossed, tapping your foot against the marble floor like your life depended on it.  If you saw his face—his stupid, beautiful, infuriating face—you didn’t know what you’d do. 

Punch him? Scream? Run? The thought of him being here, so close, when you hadn’t even processed what was happening to you…

“Okay, he says—” He paused, squinting at his screen, “he’s not coming.”

The relief. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, shoulders sagging for just a second before you caught yourself. He’s not coming.

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this... this thing inside you.

“See?” Topper said, holding up his phone like it was some peace offering. “He’s not coming. Crisis averted.” He gave you this awkward, nervous smile, like he thought you might hit him again.

You forced a laugh, even though nothing about this was funny.

“Great. Awesome. Perfect,” you said through gritted teeth simultaneously smoothing your dress, and pushing your hair back over your shoulder, “Thanks, Top. Really. You’re a real lifesaver.”

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if you were being sarcastic or not, but you didn’t care. The moment was over. You’d survived. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned away heading back toward your original group. Of course, Ruthie was still standing there her arms crossed, that smug little smirk on her face. She’d been watching the whole thing, no doubt about it. 

You could feel her nosy ass dissecting every single move you made. 

“He’s not here yet,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing just enough to piss you off. “Weird, right? Maybe he’s busy with Sofia.”

Of course, she brought up that fucking name. 

She was sniffing out blood in the water, as if she wasn’t just another Sarah Cameron knock-off. You could already picture it—the headlines, the whispers spreading through the audience, everyone talking about you. The legacy who ruined her own gala.

Kelce snorted, not even bothering to hide his amusement, because of course he thought this was all a joke. He never got it. None of them did.

You wished, for just a second, that you weren’t born into this pristine, high-society life. You felt so smothered by these expectations. If you were anyone else, if you weren’t some debutante raised on champagne and etiquette, you’d have punched her right there. You’d have knocked her straight to the floor and wiped that pretentious smile off her face with blood in front of every stuck-up rich asshole in the room. 

“I didn’t realize we were talking about her,” you said, voice like sugar, even though you knew Ruthie could sense the underlying warning in it,“But thanks, Ruthie, for always keeping me updated on things that don’t concern you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t back down yet.

“Just making conversation. I mean, it is weird that he hasn’t shown up yet, right? Considering how close you two used to be. I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”

Kelce, that asshole, leaned in, "Come on, don't act like you’re over it." His eyes glanced down to your hand. "You’re shaking."

You were. You hadn’t even noticed.

But instead of acknowledging it, you shot him a look that could've killed. "Fuck off, Kelce."

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

“Uh-huh,” Ruthie said, not buying a word of it. Her eyes flicked between you and Topper, and you knew what she was doing. She was fishing. “You sure about that? You were giving him a look.”

You glanced at your cousin, who was still rubbing his ear like a toddler. “Just sorting out some... logistics for the gala,” you said, voice saccharine, but it felt like chewing on glass. “It’s nothing. Really.”

She arched a brow, her lips curling up in a knowing grin. She knew something was off. She always did. “Right,” she said slowly, drawing the word out like she was savoring it. “Because for a second there, it looked like you were about to explode.”

She was monitoring you so closely, you could feel it crawling up your skin.

“You know,” she sighed, like she cared. “If something’s going on you can tell me. I won’t say a word.”

That was rich. Ruthie, keeping a secret? You’d sooner trust a thief with your jewelry.  “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” you said, not keeping the sarcasm out of your voice. “But trust me, there’s nothing to tell.”

Ruthie’s pursed her lips, annoyed that she hadn’t managed to dig anything up, “Are you—”

You were two seconds away from shoving her into the nearest fountain. But instead, you took a deep breath, “You should worry less about me,” you advised her, “and more about that atrocious dress you’re wearing.”

The smile fell off her face so fast, it was glorious.

You didn’t wait for her to recover. You turned on your heel, and grabbed Topper by the arm.

As soon as you were far enough away, he let out a breath he’d been holding. “Jesus, I thought you were gonna deck her.”

You grinned, but there was no warmth in it. “I still might.”

He sighed, “She’s still my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, downgrading seems like a thing for you boys.”

Like a guardian angel sent from above, Lily appeared, stepping between you two with a concerned expression.

“Hey, hey,” she interrupted, glancing between you, “What was that about?”

You could see the caution in her eyes. She wasn’t stupid—Lily knew things between you and Rafe had been rocky, and she’d probably been sensing the tension the entire night. But right now, she was doing her best to defuse the earlier situation before it got any worse.

“Nothin’, just Ruthie being herself,” You dismissed, as you grabbed onto her forearm, “Let’s go.”

Lily blinked, startled by your urgency, but she didn’t argue. “Yeah, we should head backstage, the speech is coming up.”

“Bye Top. Stay the fuck away from the chocolate fountain.”

You could hear him whine in the back, “I did that shit once!”

Lily pulled you along through the ballroom, her arm linked with yours, quickening her pace to keep up with you as you nearly bolted toward the back of the venue. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you bit out, though your voice didn’t even convince you. “I’m fine. I just need to get this speech over with.”

“Uh-huh,” She replied, clearly not convinced, but smart enough to drop it for now. “You got it, don’t worry.”

Finally, you made it to the side entrance that led backstage. The thick drapes and low lighting created a shield, giving you a small moment of privacy before the world demanded your attention again. 

Lily stood next to you, gently touching your arm, “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. We can stall, or—”

“I have to,” you stopped her, rubbing a hand over your face, “I can’t—” You didn’t finish your sentence because you didn’t know how to say it. You had no choice.

Lily’s fingers squeezed your arm a little tighter. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding. “But I’m here if you need me.”

You forced a smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth.

You appreciated her being here, really, but she was blissfully unaware of the pregnancy test in the trash can. 

Taking a deep breath, you adjusted your posture, straightened your dress, and ran a hand through your hair, reminding yourself that you’d been here before. You’d stood on that stage so many times.

This wasn’t new. You just had to get through it. 

One more speech. One more night. You glanced at Lily, gave her a quick nod, and stepped through the final curtain. Back into the spotlight. Back into the role you’d perfected so well—put together, poised, untouchable.

The low murmur of the gathering hummed in your ears, growing louder with every second. You weren’t ready. You were never going to be ready.

You just needed to remember how to breathe.

The speech was printed and sitting in your hands, it felt like dead weight. You hadn’t even read through it since you’d finished it hours ago, and now, the thought of standing in front of all those people, pretending to have it together—it felt impossible.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Rafe. 

He said he wasn’t coming. Topper said he wasn’t coming. But there he was, standing there, watching you just like he always had. 

You hadn’t even meant to look. You didn’t do it on purpose, perhaps it was muscle memory, always searching for him. He was standing in the same spot he usually took. Like nothing had changed.

As if he hadn’t ripped you apart.

You tried to focus, but your heart was racing, thundering in your ears. 

How dare he? How fucking dare he? Instantly you were back there, that messy, intoxicating space you swore you’d never return to. The one where he controlled the air you breathed. He looked so good. Too good, really. He was wearing a crisp navy suit that hugged his frame perfectly, hair buzzed again. 

You should’ve guessed he’d find a way back here, even after everything. 

“Are you ready?” Lily whispered beside you, her voice pulling you back from the brink of a breakdown. 

“Yeah.”

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to look back at Rafe.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even pretending to look interested. He just stood there, his eyes locked on you, unreadable, unfathomable.

He was still watching you. It felt like could see through your polished exterior. He probably did. He knew you better than anyone else. You wondered what he saw—the confident girl who had always pulled off these events with ease or the terrified woman who was about to pass out from the pressure.

Then, he’s lips lifted slightly. That infuriating, devil-may-care almost there smirk that had made your heart stutter long before everything went to hell. It reminded you of nights spent tangled in sheets, whispers pressed against your skin under the cover of darkness, moments that felt like they belonged in a dream.

You wanted to throw the speech away and storm off the stage, leaving this whole night behind.

Instead, you cleared your throat and gripped the edges of the podium, the cool wood bringing you back to the world. 

The words were on the paper in front of you, but you didn’t need to look at them. You knew the speech by heart every year.  You’d written it yourself, after all—crafted it with care, knowing exactly what people needed to hear to make their checks bigger, to keep your father’s legacy alive.

It was just a matter of saying it without breaking.

A deep breath, and then you began.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you so much for being here tonight.”

Your voice sounded better than what you felt, and you leaned into that, letting it carry you through the first few lines.

“We gather here every year for the same reason—to celebrate the incredible work this foundation does, and to honor the legacy of those who came before us. This foundation isn’t just a charity; it’s a tribute. A way to remember those we’ve lost and to carry their dreams forward. It’s about giving back to a community that gave so much to us.”

You paused, just for a moment, glancing down at the speech in your hands, feeling the overwhelming crush of what you’re about to say next.

“For me, this has always been personal.” Your voice softened as you continued, “Most of you are aware I lost my family a few years ago. My father started this foundation. His vision was always to make sure that no one was left behind, that we take care of our own. My mother helped build it. And my sister…” You hesitated, remembering how faultless she’d been, “She was always the heart of it.”

The room was utterly still now, everyone listening intently. 

“Tonight, as I stand here, I can’t help but think about how proud they would be of what we’ve accomplished. At least, I hope they’d be proud.”

You allowed yourself a small, bittersweet smile.

“My dad would’ve been in his element, making sure everything was spotless. And my mom, well, she’d probably tell me that the curtains were horrid and needed to be replaced immediately.”

The crowd gave a light laugh, the tension in the room dissipating just a little. You smiled, a real one this time, for the first time in weeks, picturing your mother in her no-nonsense way, criticizing every decoration like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I miss them every day,” you added, “And I’m certain I’m not the only one in this room who’s experienced that kind of loss. It changes you. But it also reminds you to live in a way that makes them proud. And that’s what tonight is about, continuing their work, continuing their legacy, and making sure we do right by them.”

Your grip on the podium loosened, and you looked up, making eye contact with the audience. 

“So, to everyone here tonight—thank you. Thank you for believing in this cause. Thank you for your generosity, your support, and your kindness. And thank you for helping me keep their memory alive.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, the applause swelling around you, but all you could hear was the sound of your heart breaking.

It was over. You did it.

Automatically, your eyes flickered up toward the back corner, the spot where Rafe was standing. You never needed to look before; you’d always just known he’d be there. It was his silent promise to you since you were sixteen. Every gala, every speech—no matter what happened between the two of you—he was there.

But he wasn’t there anymore. The space was empty.  

This was what you wanted, you didn’t need him anymore. You were going to get through this on your own. It was the first time he wasn’t there to catch you like he’d always been.

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

That stupid fucking warmth. 

His hand found your elbow as you and every nerve in your body screamed bloody murder. The applause was still buzzing in your ears, cameras flashing—none of it registered.

All you saw was him.

Three seconds. That was how close you were to snapping. Who the fuck let him in?

You yanked your arm away, the touch burning your skin like it was staining you. You didn’t say a word—just turned and headed straight for the back exit.

Behind you, you heard his footsteps.

Of course, he never knew when to stop, when to let you breathe.

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

You were already halfway down the hall, pulling off your earrings as you stormed toward your suite.

The fucking sheer audacity of this man. You couldn’t even process it—how he could stand there, with his fake-ass calm tone, chasing after you like you were the one being unreasonable.

You threw open the door to the suite you got ready in, the one that was supposed to be your sanctuary for the night and stepped inside, not bothering to close it behind you; you knew he was going to follow you in any way.

He was relentless like that.

You tossed the earrings onto the vanity and glanced up to see he was right behind you now, lingering in the doorway, as if unsure of how much further he could push before you exploded.

He looked at you like he was the victim in all this.

“Can you at least listen to me for a second?” It sounded like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

But that bite was so Rafe.

You spun around, your breath coming out harsh.

“Listen to you? Listen to you? You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you were already pulling off your heels, the sharp tug at the straps doing nothing to calm your frustration.

He stood there, his eyes on you, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him for more than a second without feeling the betrayal flooding your chest.

Rafe was rubbing the back of his neck in that agitated way he did when he was frustrated.  “I came here because I didn’t want to leave things like that. I thought we could be civil—”

“Civil?” You nearly laughed, “You seriously think you can walk in here and be civil after everything?”

His eyes narrowed just a fraction. He moved on his feet, stepping further into the room, and you saw it—the way he rolled his shoulders like he was already preparing himself for a fight.  “I came to apologize.”

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

Your hands stopped mid-motion, your necklace halfway off. You looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "Apologize for what, exactly?" 

“For calling you dramatic.” He exhaled like he was doing something noble by saying it. As if he was doing you a favor. “For that text. I was drunk, didn’t mean it.”

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her. 

You stared at him, completely floored. He was serious, he thought this was some kind of peace offering. The fact that he thought an apology for that would fix anything? Insane.

“You think this is about that?” You cackled, chucking one shoe to the side, not caring where it landed, and the other followed right after. “Oh my god, Rafe, you are so fucking clueless.”

His expression changed then, brows furrowed, “I’m trying to make things right,” he mutters. “I don’t want you out of my life, okay?”

You threw the necklace somewhere on the ground, your patience gone. “You were the one who pushed me away. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like we can just fix things because you finally feel bad about it.”

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”

Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

“I don’t want to be your friend!” You growled in his face, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his chest,  “I’d rather set myself on fire than be your friend, so you can take that chance and shove it up your ass.”

His hand came up to run along his head again, and you saw the way his fingers curled into his scalp like he was trying not to give in to his impulsive thoughts. His breathing was heavier now, too, chest rising and falling quickly.  

“Why are you being so difficult?” he snapped, and there it was—the familiar, accusatory edge in his voice. “After what you said about my dad—”

The reason.

The thing that broke you two this time, the thing he’d been holding over your head. You saw the hurt in his eyes, the one thing he hadn’t let go of.

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head. 

“You’re gonna bring that up right now?” Your voice was so quiet it nearly scared you. “After all the shit you’ve put me through, that’s what you’re mad about?”

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

But Sofia did, right? 

That was fucking hilarious. She didn’t grow up listening to Ward’s bullshit. Didn’t see the kind of things he’d say or did to his oldest child. 

Of course, she would take his side. She didn’t know better. 

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

For a moment, the air went deadly still between you. You could sense his hurt, the way it sneaked between every bitter word.

Then, he did it—the thing you knew he would, that thing that made your blood boil. 

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

Your whole body went borderline rigid, like a door, locked in place.

He was standing there, offering you friendship like a pity prize, calling you jealous when you were standing there broken, trying not to fall apart because of him.

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

Ouch. But you could do worse. 

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

"At least she doesn’t care about any of this," he snapped, gesturing to the glittering gala that surrounded you both. "She’s not obsessed with keeping up appearances.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. He must’ve forgotten to look in the mirror today.

"God, you’re so delusional. Do you think I wanted any of this?” You shot him a look that could cut through steel. "I’m not the one faking it. You are. You are still so desperate for Daddy’s approval that you can’t even see what a fucking mess you are."

Rafe's hands flexed at his sides, his fingers twitching. His nostrils flared, and he tilted his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth like he always did when he was trying to stay calm.”

"I’m not afraid of who I am," His lips barely moved as he spoke, rolling his shoulders back again, standing to his full height. "You spend so much time trying to be perfect, you don’t even know who you are anymore."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, like a predator sizing you up, his eyes locked on yours. You could see his jaw clench, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath as he tried to keep his composure.

You took a step closer, your chest brushing against his, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. His gaze flicked downward, scanning your face.

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

He clenched his jaw again, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He took a sharp breath through his nose, staring you down with a look that was all Rafe—volatile, unreadable, on the edge of breaking.

Right then and there, Lily burst into the room, her wide eyes taking in the scene like a bomb had just gone off.

"Okay! What is going on in here?" she demanded, her voice sharp but layered with concern. “I could hear you two in the hallway. If something happened, this is not the place to deal with it.”

 “You wanna know what happened, Lily?” you started, almost laughing with disbelief. “This motherfucker started seeing someone behind my back. Two months—two fucking months—with no real closure, no answers. And he’s off fucking some pogue.”

“It’s not like that,” He scoffed, pointing a finger in your direction as he took a few steps back, "Don't drag Sofia into this.”

His posture screamed defensiveness, and all you could think was how much you hated the way he said her name. It made you want to throw up, it felt like someone was taking a rusty nail and dragging it down your spine. 

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

You were the one who had been there through all his bullshit, you were the one who held him together when everything in his life was falling apart. Now, suddenly, she was the one he spoke about softly. Like she mattered.

It was insulting. 

“Guys!”

Lily stepped between you both, throwing her hands up as if she were separating two wild animals about to rip each other apart.

“Please, please calm down. Rafe, I think you should leave. Now."

He looked like he wanted to say more, you knew he had a million things screaming at him beneath the surface, but for once, he stayed silent. Maybe it was the fact that Lily was there, or maybe he finally realized you weren’t going to bite into his bullshit excuses and provocations.

Whatever it was, he took a step back, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, storming past Lily and out of the room.

You could hear the distant sound of the door slamming as he left.

The moment he was gone, you felt your breath coming out in shallow gasps. Your heart dropped to your stomach, your pulse racing.

Lily turned to you; her face full of concern. She reached out and grabbed your shoulders gently.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice soothing, “Breathe. Just breathe.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, your breath hitching. Pregnant. You were pregnant with his kid, and this was what you got in return.

No peace. No calm. 

Your chest tightened, your vision blurring.  

“Hey, hey,” She cooed again, her hands on your arms, grounding you. “You’re okay. We’re going to figure this out. Just breathe, okay?”

You couldn’t believe you’d let it get this far—couldn’t believe you were even in this situation.

There was no way you were having his kid.

Absolutely not.

You didn’t even have to think about it. The decision had been made the second he’d defended her and insulted you like you were sidewalk littering.

Tomorrow, you’d take care of it. You’d book the appointment and that would be that. Clean break, no more ties to Rafe Cameron, no more staying in that fucked up twisted cycle with him.

“I really think you need to sit down and breathe for a second. You’re scaring me sweetheart, and honestly, this isn’t good for you.”

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

Your designer dress clung to you in all the wrong ways, as if even the fabric could understand the order going changes in your body. 

“Whoever let him in, I want them fired.”

You spat suddenly gaining momentary strength to ruin lives. It wasn’t just a demand; it was an execution order. 

The quiet threat of it was more terrifying than your screaming would have been. 

Tomorrow, you’d make sure this nightmare ended before it could begin. 

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[userautumn]

Please. Tommys helicopter crashing while him and Buck are still broken up? That would be such great drama.

You know what I want? I want Buck to get mad. He has yet to actually get mad at a love interest. He's been hurt and confused, but I want him to get angry. I want him to go out and fuck like he's getting revenge on Tommy, even though he's the one who got left behind again, and I want him to convince himself he's absolutely fine. Eddie can see it, of course. Bobby and Maddie and all the people who love him can see that he's not fine, but I want Buck to pretend he is like he'll die if he doesn't. He deletes Tommy's name from his contacts and dumps all his stuff in the trash and erases his existence from his life like he's nothing more than yesterday's news.

I want this to continue through the rest of the season, long enough that both the characters and the audience start to think that maybe Buck is fine after all. Maybe this whole thing with Tommy was just a mistake, a hiccup. Maybe Tommy was right and saw writing on the wall that Buck didn't. Maybe he was smart by getting out when he did because Buck doesn't cry. He doesn't vent to Eddie, or show up on his doorstep like a kicked puppy. He lives fast and vibrant, and shows up to work covered in hickeys and lipstick and other people's cologne, and if Tommy really was as transformative of a love as he believed he was, shouldn't he be devastated?

Anyway.

Fast forward to the season finale. Athena has been following a case of corporate corruption where an auto and aeronautics manufacturer has been exposed for using faulty parts in their vehicles that have resulted in auto collisions and deaths across the country. None of this really concerns or interests Buck at all, if he's being honest. He fixes his own car for the most part (Tommy showed him how) and that which he can't do, he takes to his usual mom-and-pop mechanic for them to work on. Which is to say that, his life consists of sex and work, so news reports of [Same Company] being responsible for a Cessna crashing in Northern California don't really filter through.

Not until the 118 is called to a helicopter crash just outside of Los Angeles.

Even then, Buck doesn't think about Tommy. Why would he? Tommy Kinard is barely even a memory at this point, just an idea on the edge of his brain, an almost that was quickly buried. Helicopters crash all the time, so he has no reason to believe there's anything out of the ordinary about this one. But then when they're en route, Maddie's voice comes over the radio, tight with emotion and forcibly professional in a way that makes him immediately nauseous: Captain Nash, please be advised that the helicopter in question is one of our own. It's an LAFD chopper. Then, Hen and Eddie and Chimney and Bobby all turn to look at him, and Buck has nowhere to run from their gaze. Even if he did, he couldn't, because he feels paralyzed. Bobby's voice asking if there are any survivors, and Maddie's voice saying she's unsure get lost to the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. Every repressed emotion, every memory, every bit of desperate longing and grief and love and anger comes rushing back in full force and all Buck can do is sit there while the engine weaves through Los Angeles traffic.

Tommy is fine, of course. He codes on the way to the hospital (Buck performing CPR on his boyfriend while begging him to stay alive is my drug), but once all is said and done, once he's come out of surgery with a little more metal in his body than he went in there with, he's okay. Buck isn't, not by a mile. He's full of too many emotions that he doesn't know how to sort through, chief among them being love, followed closely by anger, and then, guilt, of all things. But after Tommy opens his eyes, after Buck breaks down spectacularly, and after they finally confess that they love each other, Buck makes Tommy look him in the eyes:

"You don't get to run from this. Not again. I mean it. If you get scared, you talk to me. If you need to slow down, you talk to me. You don't make decisions for me, for us, and expect me to be okay with it. That's not how this works."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Tommy. I can't -"

"I mean it too. I promise. Okay?"

"Okay."

Anyways. Yeah. That's how I would do it.

[honeybelleee]

for you i’d bleed | p.js

req ( anon & my bae @kpopiedictionary ) : down bad boyfriend jay fighting someone who talked bad about you in your absence + passionate sex but dom!y/n

pairings - jay x fem!reader

genre - established relationship, dom!y/n x sub downbad!jay, smut (MDNI), fluff

warnings - lower case intended, fighting, jay getting injured, mention of blood, heavy oral (m receiving), pwp, y/n getting objectified

1,3 ++ wc ! masterlist

jay had never imagined he’d be fighting to defend y/n from someone so close to him, but the bitter reality hit when his friend’s careless mouth spewed inappropriate, lewd remarks about y/n in her absence.

the argument flared quickly, blazing like a fire out of control. jay’s friend, wearing a smug, dismissive grin, shrugged off jay’s fury as if y/n were meaningless a joke.

"why are you getting so worked up man?" his friend sneered. "if she wasn’t your girl, i’d fuck that pussy real good. she’s got a body that—”

“don’t,” jay interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “don’t talk about her like that. you have no idea who she is, and you clearly don’t respect her.”

his friend scoffed, crossing his arms. “come on jay, it’s just a joke. lighten up. it’s not like she’d ever even find out i said anything.”

jay stepped closer, fury flashing in his eyes. “that’s not the point. if you think I’m going to let you talk about my girlfriend like that, you’re dead wrong.”

“oh, so now you’re gonna act all tough? over a few words? you used to be fun, bro,” his friend taunted, raising his eyebrows in mock amusement.

jay’s patience finally snapped. “a real friend wouldn’t disrespect the woman i love,” he said through gritted teeth, “and a real man wouldn’t need to put someone down like this to feel big.”

jay's fists clenched, his blood boiling at the blatant disrespect toward someone he cherished. he couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t just let it slide. his friend’s sick remarks and arrogant stance only spurred jay on until he couldn’t hold back anymore.

with a surge of anger, jay threw the first punch, connecting with his friend’s jaw. the impact left him stumbling, but he recovered, lashing back and landing a wild swing that split jay's lip. ignoring the pain, jay lunged forward, grabbing his friend by the collar and slamming him into the wall, “if I ever hear you talk about her again, i’ll fucking kill you. understood?”

the friend, suddenly realizing the depth of jay’s anger, muttered, “alright… fine. i’m sorry. i went too far.”

jay stormed off, his mind racing as he headed straight for y/n's place. as he reached her apartment, he hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorbell. his face was bruised and bloodied, and he didn't want to scare her. but the door swung open before he could change his mind, and there she was, looking concerned and beautiful in her silk robe.

"jay, what happened?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

he tried to smile, but the pain from his split lip made it more of a grimace. "just a little disagreement with a friend."

y/n's eyes widened as she took in his battered appearance. "oh baby, come in! we need to get you cleaned up."

jay followed her inside, feeling a mix of shame and desire. he knew he had overreacted, but the thought of that guy disrespecting y/n had made his blood boil.

in the bathroom, y/n gently guided him to the sink, her touch soft and soothing. she ran a damp cloth over his face, wiping away the blood and grime. her fingers were gentle as she dabbed at the cut above his eyebrow, her breath warm against his skin.

"does it hurt?" she asked, her voice low and concerned.

"not as much as my pride," jay replied, his voice hoarse with emotion.

y/n's eyes locked with his, and in that moment, something shifted between them. she could see the hurt and anger in his eyes, but also a raw, primal desire. her heart raced as she realized the effect she had on him.

"you fought for me," she whispered, her voice laced with a mixture of awe and arousal.

jay nodded, unable to speak as the emotions overwhelmed him. he had always been the protective type, but this was different. the thought of someone sexualizing y/n had sent him into a blind rage.

y/n's fingers trailed down his jaw, her touch electric as she caressed his bruised face.

"you're so beautiful when you're angry," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.

jay shivered at her touch, his body responding to her words. he had always been the dominant one in their relationship, but now, as she stood before him, her eyes burning with desire, he felt a surge of submission.

"y/n, i..." he began, but she placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.

"shh," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "let me take care of you."

with that, she dropped to her knees before him, her hands sliding up his thighs, her touch sending shivers through his body. jay's breath caught in his throat as he felt her fingers brush against the bulge in his pants.

"i want to make you feel good," she whispered, her voice throaty with desire.

"let me show you how much i appreciate what you did for me."

jay groaned as she unbuttoned his jeans, his cock springing free, hard and throbbing. y/n's eyes widened at the sight of his thick, erect shaft, her lips parting in anticipation.

"you're so hard for me baby," she purred, her voice filled with satisfaction.

she leaned forward, her breath hot against the tip of his cock, and then she took him into her mouth, her lips sliding down his length. jay's eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure surged through his body. y/n's mouth was warm and wet, her tongue swirling around his sensitive head, driving him wild.

she sucked him with a passion he had never experienced before, her hands gripping his thighs as she took him deeper into her throat. jay's hands clenched into fists as he struggled to hold back his orgasm, wanting to prolong this moment of pure ecstasy.

"fuck, y/n," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. "your mouth feels so fucking good."

y/n moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through him. she pulled back, her lips glistening with his precum, and looked up at him with a wicked smile.

"i want you to fuck my face," she whispered, her eyes daring him to take control.

jay's heart pounded as he realized she was giving him permission to be rough, to take what he wanted. he placed his hands on her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, and began to thrust gently at first, but soon the primal urge took over, and he was pounding into her mouth with abandon.

y/n's moans and gasps fueled his desire, her hands gripping his hips, urging him on. her tongue danced against his shaft, her lips tight around him, and he could feel her throat constricting around his cock as he plunged deeper.

"oh baby i'm gonna cum," he grunted, his body tensing as the orgasm built.

y/n's eyes flashed with excitement, and she pulled back, her hand wrapping around his shaft, stroking him in rhythm with her mouth. jay's body convulsed as he exploded, his cum shooting into her mouth, down her throat, and over her lips. she swallowed eagerly, sucking him dry, her eyes never leaving his.

as he caught his breath, y/n stood, her body flushed and her lips glistening with his release. she pressed herself against him, her breasts pressing into his chest, and kissed him deeply, sharing the taste of his cum.

"i love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "i love you too, ready for round two?”

jay will bleed for u if u like/comment/reblog!

perm taglist - @ancnymcnzjy @june19190 @wiccangirl29 @shjsnjkj @who-tf-soddhi

©honeybelleee on tumblr!

[mxltifxnd0m]

drunken words ↼ d. winchester

summary: drunk you isn't the best at keeping their mouth shut

pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader, platonic sam winchester x reader

requested: yes/no: by @traiitorjoe; thank you for sending your request!

word count: 3.0K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', none really, some cursing, a little bit of fluff, sam being a meddling little shit, some angst, kinda edited

a/n: i got this request in july and i felt so bad for having put it off for so long but here we have it! there is a potential for a pt.2 so if anyone wants that lmk lol

but enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me!

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Dealing with the Winchesters always felt like a Herculean task when you would run into them while you were on a hunt. The first time you ran into them was when they barged into the farmhouse that you were staking out for a nest of vampires. They went in, guns blazing, and you cursed them out under your breath as you hurriedly left the hiding spot you were in and rushed into the nest to help them clean out. 

It was safe to say that they were surprised and confused by your anger when you guys had killed all of the vamps. You didn’t recognize them at first when they first ran into the farmhouse, but now that you were standing there and really looking at them, you instantly knew that these were the infamous Winchester brothers you’d heard from Bobby and other hunters.  

Regardless of who they were, you were furious that they had messed up the hunt that you were on, and they were on the receiving end of your fury while they looked at you dumbfounded. After you were done yelling at them, you left the farmhouse fuming and decided to leave them with the cleanup job. 

The brothers were so confused by you that they didn’t even think to ask for your name. They also were slightly scared by your fury, and they failed to realize that you clearly knew who they were, but they had no idea who you were, only that they had taken over your hunt and were really mad about it. Dean only hoped that he wouldn’t run into you ever again. 

But as fate was a fickle thing, you would run into the brothers on your next hunt in a small town in Oregon, where a witch was terrorizing the men of the town, and it just so happened that you had arrived at the station the same time they did. You had to play along with them until you got the information you needed, and then when you tried to leave the station before them, a hand slammed your door before you could get into your car. 

You turned around to be met with emerald green eyes filled with irritation and thinly veiled curiosity. 

“Did you need something Winchester?” You said with a scowl etched into your face. 

Dean scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, answers. Who the hell are you?” 

“What’s it matter to you?” 

“Because you’re a hunter and we could use some help on this case.” Sam interjected, and your eyes were ripped away from the man in front of you. You almost forgot about the taller Winchester that was lingering behind Dean. 

You raised an eyebrow at Sam while Dean’s head jerked over his shoulder and glared at his brother. Sam stared back at his brother with raised brows, sending him a look that said, ‘What? It doesn’t hurt to ask.’ 

“I don’t think your brother here is keen on working with me.” 

“You’re damn right I’m not. You went off on us for no reason and left us to clean up.” 

You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of them cleaning up the plethora of severed heads and bodies from that farmhouse. But you ignored Dean's words as you contemplated the offer Sam was proposing. 

“Fine I’ll help, but you’ll have to follow my lead on this one.” 

Sam nodded, agreeing with you, and sent you a dimpled smile. 

Dean opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by you slicing the air with your hand in front of his face. 

“Zip it Winchester, either you listen to me or I leave you high and dry on this hunt.” You waved around the copy of the case file that you convinced the Sheriff to give you before leaving the station. 

Dean all but glared at you and stomped towards the black Chevy Impala that was parked down the street. You couldn’t help but smirk at Dean’s grumpy attitude, and Sam told you which motel they were staying in and followed them to it. 

With three heads instead of one (more like two since Dean barely did any research and stuck you and Sam with it), you guys found the witch in no time and disposed of her swiftly. You had to admit that working with the brothers was more manageable than working on your own. But you knew that this had to be a one-off occurrence because you had heard about all of the craziness that surrounded the Winchesters. You were not keen on being pulled into any of it. 

Once the hunt was over, Sam gave you his number and told you to call if you needed help or vice versa. You took it to be polite, but you knew that you weren’t going to call them unless your life depended on it. The three of you went your separate ways before Destiny decided to play her games, and somehow, you ended up working on most of the hunts the brothers were working on. 

It’s like some higher power wanted you to work the Winchesters against your better wishes. Alas, you ended up working with them every time because you couldn’t resist Sam Winchester’s pleading puppy dog eyes. But you got on quite well with Sam, and he slowly became a good friend of yours. 

But your relationship with Dean, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say you had a mutual hatred for each other. You guys practically fought like cats and dogs anytime you interacted, and the two of you couldn’t help but let snide comments leave your lips each time the other was wrong or messed up. Both of you bickered like an old married couple that should have divorced a long time ago, so much so that Sam had to be the mediator constantly if you were to work with the brothers. If he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure if you were either going to throw a punch or fuck each other. 

Dean Winchester is an incredibly infuriating man, and you hated that you found him attractive. It wasn’t lost on you that both of the brothers were hot, like they should be on the cover of a magazine hot, but there was something about Dean that drew you to him more. You didn’t want him to know that, so you hid your attraction for him through your sarcastic demeanor. Eventually, Sam had enough of your bickering that held so much sexual tension that he locked the two of you in the motel room he and Dean were sharing until the two of you could have a civil conversation. 

Sam had left the two of you for a couple of hours. He was half expecting to find the two of you naked in Dean’s bed, but when he unlocked the door, he saw the two of you on separate beds and watching a random movie that was playing on the TV in the room.

In the time that Sam was gone, you guys had bickered and gotten in each other’s faces, but you eventually admitted that it was tiring to keep up the fact that you didn’t exactly hate Dean since the moment you met him and to your surprise, he admitted the same thing. After that, you guys sat on separate beds, finding some common ground between the two of you, and watched whatever was on the TV. 

After that incident, the two of you still argued like a married couple, but there wasn’t any heat behind your words, and it turned into friendly banter between you and the older Winchester. Months went by, and you found yourself as the unofficial third partner to the brothers, accompanying them on the majority of the hunts that they picked up.  

You didn’t know how it happened, but to your utter shock and horror, along the way of becoming friends with Dean Winchester, you developed feelings for him. Of course, you had no idea when you started to feel like this around Dean. Sam was perceptive, caught onto your change in behavior, and had basically interrogated you when he saw you glare at the woman Dean decided to take home that night, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in your chest as he left the bar the three of you were at. 

You had vehemently denied that you felt anything for Dean, but all Sam said in response was a shit-eating grin and gave you a look that said, ‘Yeah, you’re lying, and I know it.’ 

Once Sam had figured out that you liked his brother, he stopped at nothing to leave the two of you alone in hopes that you’d put on your big kid pants and admit your feelings towards him (spoiler alert, you never did). As much as you loved Sam, you honestly wanted to punch him in the face every time he urged you to tell Dean about your feelings. 

You knew that Dean wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, and you definitely knew that he wasn’t one for love or relationships, as evident with the women he picked up at bars after successful hunts. Did your heart clench any time you saw the satisfied smirk on his face the morning after the night out at the bar? You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself, but yeah, it did. 

Now, after a successful hunt, you and the Winchesters found yourselves at the bar across the street from the motel you were staying in. The three of you were at a booth at the corner of the bar, and you had gotten the first round of drinks for each of you. But when Dean volunteered to grab the third round (Sam had gotten the second one), Sam said he was turning in for the night and shot you a sly smile, and you knew exactly what he meant by it. You glared at him briefly before telling him goodnight through gritted teeth (Dean had seen this interaction between you and his brother and was confused by it but brushed it off).

Sam left, and Dean turned to you. “Still want a drink?” He asked. 

You nodded in response, and Dean shot you a small smile before his knuckles knocked on the table, and he made his way toward the bar. A couple of minutes had passed, and Dean wasn’t back from the bar. You looked up from your empty glass to see him being chatted up by a woman dressed to the nines, and clearly, Dean was into her. 

You let out a harsh breath before shaking your head, getting up from the booth, heading to the opposite side of the bar Dean was at, and ordering a vodka soda. You downed in quickly and told the bartender to keep the drinks coming. You didn’t know how many you had until you heard a gruff voice telling the bartender to give you water instead of another drink. You could vaguely recognize Dean’s voice through your drunken haze. 

You turned around in your seat to see Dean right next to you with furrowed brows. “You alright there, kid?” 

Dean hadn’t seen you this drunk before, so he was half concerned but also half amused by the cute pout you had on your face. 

“M’not a kid.” You slurred out, irritated. You hated the nickname that Dean had given you; you weren’t much younger than Dean, you were the same age as Sam. 

“Then why are you pouting like you didn’t get the candy you asked for?” Dean asked, his tone amused. 

You couldn’t help but scowl at him and look around for the woman he was talking to earlier. “Where’s the girl-*hiccup* you were talking to?” You questioned, dazed. 

Dean’s face had scrunched up. “Turns out she plays for the same team.” He muttered lowly, but you managed to hear it through the bar chatter. 

You couldn’t help but burst out in drunken giggles at Dean’s failed attempt to take someone home. Dean looked at you, slightly embarrassed, but couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your laughter. 

“Okay, we should probably get you back to your room.” Dean coaxed you off of the bar stool you were sitting on before paying for the tabs and leading you out of the bar. Dean had tucked you into his side as you walked on wobbly legs across the street to the motel. 

Once you reached your room (which was coincidentally right next to the boys’ room). Dean asked where you had your key. You were leaning into Dean, so his question was spoken into your ear quietly, and it sent a shiver down your spine. 

“M’back pocket.” You mumbled out. 

You didn’t see this as your eyes were closed as you rested your head against his shoulder, but his eyes widened at the realization that he’d have to grab it from your jeans pocket. 

“If you remember this in the morning, please don’t punch me, I swear I wasn’t trying to cop a feel.” He had muttered something else under his breath, but you were too out of it to notice what he said. 

Dean managed to get your room key out of your pocket and unlocked your door. He led the two of you inside, and when you saw your bed, you quickly ripped yourself from Dean’s embrace and fell face-first into bed, uncaring if you were still in jeans. 

Dean chuckled at you, and you looked up at him with a pout. “Are you laughing at me?”  

He shook his head, trying to stifle his amusement. “No, of course not.” 

You squinted suspiciously at him before sitting up and pawing at your combat boots. You were fumbling with the laces until you felt a warm hand cover yours. You looked up and found Dean kneeling on the floor in front of you. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he untied your boots for you and pulled them off of your feet. 

“You’re pretty.” You couldn’t help but blurt out drunkenly. 

Dean laughed, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. “Maybe I should get you drunk often, maybe you’ll compliment me more.” He sent you one of his smug smirks before standing up and heading toward the small kitchenette in your room.

He filled a glass with water before heading to the bathroom. He grabbed some aspirin that was stored in the medicine cabinet (you had no idea that he knew where you stored your painkillers). He came over to the bed with the water and painkillers and set them on the nightstand.

As he was bustling around your room, you had managed to wiggle off your jeans and get underneath the covers of the bed.  You looked at Dean underneath the warm lighting of the lamp that illuminated the room. His freckles were prominent in this lighting, and you couldn’t help but stare at his side profile. 

Dean noticed your intense gaze on him and smirked down at you after setting the water and aspirin on your nightstand. “See something you like?” He gently teased. Dean felt his hand twitch, trying to resist the temptation to brush back the stray hairs on your forehead. 

“Mhm, I like your face.” You smiled in a drunken bliss before your eyes fluttered. “I like you a lot actually.” You said before you felt the pull of sleep tug at your eyes. 

Your eyes shut, and your breathing evened out as you succumbed to sleep, leaving Dean standing in shock next to you. He looked down at your sleeping form before shaking his head. He’d deny the fact he felt his heartbeat quicken at your drunken admission. Dean quickly left your room and entered his shared room with Sam. 

Lucky for him, Sam was sound asleep in his bed, and Dean quickly got ready for bed, trying to ignore the fact you may or may not have shared the same feelings as he did. 

You woke up with a groan. Your head was pounding. You saw through your bleary eyes that there were some painkillers left out with a glass of water right next to them on your nightstand. You sat up as quickly as you could and grabbed the things off the nightstand. You downed some of the water before taking the aspirin and then drinking the rest of the water. 

You put the glass back on the nightstand before crawling back under the covers, wanting to let the ache in your head subside slightly before getting ready for the day. But fate was not on your side because pounding came from your door, making pain shoot through your head, and Dean waltzed into your room with a bag of food and a wide smirk on his face. 

“Rise and shine, kid!” He said enthusiastically. 

You shot up from your spot on the bed and glared at him. “I hate you. And stop calling me kid.” 

“Well, that’s not what you said last night.” Dean smirked knowingly. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach; what the hell did you say last night? “What do you mean?” 

Dean placed the food on the table before leaning on its edge. “Do you not remember what you said last night?” 

You shook your head. “Nope. Last thing I remember was you leading me out of the bar.” 

Dean's smirk faltered. He wasn’t expecting that. “You don’t remember anything at all after that?” 

“No. Why did I say anything important?” 

Dean cleared his throat, trying to seem nonchalant and hide what he was actually feeling. He shook his head. 

“Uh, no. But I got you some grub, we’re gonna head out in 30 so be ready then.” He said stiffly before leaving the room. Not looking at you once before the door closed with a click. 

You stared at the door, confused. That was probably the most awkward Dean had ever been around you. But you shook it off and decided to pack up and eat the breakfast Dean got you. 

You’d figure out what you said to Dean later. 

[justhereforsomethingnice]

“Great, welcome mr. Wayne.” Danny sighed when a man who introduced himself as Bruce Wayne entered the shop. “So happy you could make it. I’m Danny, I’ll be doing your reading today.” God, one ounce of energy less in his words and he wouldn’t be only dead on the inside anymore.

The man beamed at him. “Amazing to meet you Danny. Say, I’ve never seen you here before, are you new?” The man asked jovially.

Danny grimaced. “Yep, now please follow me.” He was going to get so nauseas from those damn fumes back there, he just knows it. With how shit had been going, he’s going to throw up that one sip of milkshake he managed before yesterdays disaster on those fancy ass shoes. And that man couldn’t stop smiling and touching every damn little trinket on his way to the back.

“And what is this,” Wayne asked holding up a shiny trinket, immediately dropping it and picking up the next one, “fascinating, and this? Is this a spell book, how peculiar.” Danny was going to add another shade to the collection here.

He finally reached the room. “Sit down over there please mr. Wayne. Now, what exactly did you want to achieve when coming here?” He asked. The only thing miss. Claire told him to actually do before the reading.

The man actually seemed to become bashful at that, a bit nervous. He wrung his hands before rubbing one of his hands over the opposite wrist. “I was actually hoping to talk to some resently deceased people. A friend of mine died and but was very fond of this shop you see.”

Danny held in the sigh. Great, it was most likely the woman with the pearls floating behind him. “Let me guess, lady, dark hair, nice pearly necklace.”

The man seemed caught of guard for just a second before becoming it seemed angry. Or just very very sad. “See here young man, I will -,”

“Yeah yeah, save it.” Was he being an ass? Yes. Did this man deserve it? Most likely not. Did he care? No. He just spend the entire night trying to find shelter for the rain just for it to either crumble, leak anyways or in one kinda memorable occasion, blow up. So no, he did not care that he hurt some Vlad’s 2.0 feelings. The woman eagerly began speaking so he just repeated what she said. “Great, so she wants you to not let the Matt hatter ruin Alice in wonderland for you?” Danny looked at the lady like she had gone crazy. “Really, that’s what you’re starting with? Anyways.” He sighed.

The man had become silent at that. “Also, we I ask Alfie?” He looked at the spirit lady who nodded enthusiastically. “Give you the book he wrote named ‘how to navigate social situations: a step by step guide’ and use it to finally have a good talk with her grandson.” Okay, so rich dude had family issues. None of his business. “And, in her words, ‘chance the time on the grandfather clock, this is just getting depressing’ whatever that means.” The man was just silently staring at him now.

Another ghost tapped the lady on the shoulder before he turned to Danny too. “And great, another one joined.” They linked hands. “So it’s a date now, great.” He grumbled more to himself. So it was two friends who died and not just one. Okay, he could deal with that. “He says that they will always love you no matter what.” So it was a lovers affair instead of just friends? “And that the name you’re looking for is Edward Colson? Sheesh, was this a murder or something.” The two were getting more exited and talking his ears off.

“One at a time please.” He glared to mr. Wayne’s left. The man glancing behind him, predictably seeing nothing. “Anyways, was that what you came for? Or do you need anything else?” The man seemed to have actual tears in his eyes.

“You can see my parents?” Danny snapped his eyes to the two who looked sadly at their apparently son. Well, that explained the fashion choice. Also, that was almost worse then a love affair murder case.

Danny just stared at the man and didn’t really know what to say. He was translating this guys dead moms words to him. Ancients, he was an asshole. Stupid, idiotic, moronic move Fenton. Great, how to cut this off as soon as possible. “Only for a while. The power in this room will fade in a bit.” The man was a totally different person now. Danny hesitated. “Do you want to say anything to them?”

He thinks he had much more tact just now than in the past 10 minutes. “I’m sorry.” The two ghost seemed to decent on the man. Cooing at him, telling him he was not at fault, that he couldn’t know, couldn’t have done anything, was only a child when it happened.

“Ah screw it.” Danny said before making just the tip of his finger invisible. That should contain the spirits becoming visible in the area, right? He was still debating wether this was a mistake or not while the spirits of Martha and Thomas Wayne became visible to their sons eyes. Ancients he needs Jazz.

I’m a Size Medium, Thanks.

Danny is irritated. No actually he is beyond irritated. He is annoyed, he is frustrated, he is…. He’s really fricking irritated and can’t be bothered to remember any more of Jazz’s SAT words.

He continues his glare out the window as he searches for his straw with his mouth.

He just- where is it- thinks it’s a stupid fricking-stupid ass milkshake-he shouldn’t have to basically-gah! Danny snaps his head down to find his suddenly missing straw, only to successfully poke it directly into his eye.

“Ow! Fricken-“ He groans, throwing his head back, and putting his hands to his face, “Mother-tucker, Holy Taming of A Shrew!” He pounds his free hand not cradling his eye on the table, trying not to make more of a scene. Of course, this utterly fails because it immediately tips over his milkshake glass with a clatter as it spills onto his pants, making him jump up with enough force to knock the table over and drop the milkshake glass the rest of the way to the floor.

Danny stares at it with blurry vision and a watery eye. He sighs, “At least-“

The glass shatters.

Danny sighs again, deeper. “Of course.”

He looks up at the restaurant around him. Noticing the many, many people staring at him.

Wonderful.

Danny grimaces, “Sorry, I so didn’t mean for that to happen, uh-“ Danny reaches to straighten the table, fumbling for a second before it stands upright, he steps away from it, “If there’s any way I can help or.. like fix it. I can pay for the cup..” a server comes over to him, “if you want..?”

The server’s dead eyes don’t waver as they silently place a wet floor sign over the spilled milkshake.

“Thanks.”

“Uh huh.”

The server walks away, leaving Danny to sigh all on his own. He leans over to grab his backpack from the booth, checking it over for milkshake before slinging it on his back, thankfully clean.

He makes it one step forward before he feels the floor go out from under him. Ah gravity. His greatest enemy. This is karma for all those times he’s ignored it, isn’t it?

The wind is knocked out of him when his back slams to the floor, cushioned by the dulcet sounds of his bag crunching against broken glass.

He looks up at the wet floor sign.

The man on the yellow plastic mocks him.

Danny sighs.

He curses his stupid luck.

He curses this stupid city.

Then he curses himself because he knows any of this stupid city’s curses end up affecting him anyways.

Danny gets to his feet, ignoring the feeling of milkshake on his hands and his… everywhere.

He trudges out of the diner without looking back. At least he’d already paid for it.

He grimaces at the milkshake handprint on the door, trying to wipe it away with his shirt and only succeeding in making it worse.

Danny catches the eyes of the server inside, staring at him, eyes progressively more annoyed.

Danny puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.

Directly into a person. Only his milkshake covered self prevents him from being hit with anything more than the man’s scathing glare.

He puts his hands back up and moves away to dodge everybody else on the sidewalk. Along with the occasional ghost. Visible only to him of course.

By the time he has managed to escape the sidewalks into an alley, he is certain there is a trail of slightly sticky businessmen behind him.

Danny crouches to swing his backpack down in front of him and take stock. Okay, he could put his sweatshirt on over it… but it would also get ruined… damn it.

Danny looks around, checking every inch of the alley for cameras and then backing himself into a corner just to be safe. The flicker of intangibility is barely noticeable except for the wet squelch of milkshake remnants dropping to the alley floor. Lovely.

And of course, the flash of every single Gotham ghost in the area becoming visible and almost tangible for a split second. Also… lovely. There’s a couple startled shouts on the street.

Maybe an alleyway was not the best place for that.

Danny slides his sweatshirt on over his shirt to at least pretend like he was covering a mess and then shimmies out of the alley while trying to make as little contact with ghosts as possible.

He’s almost completely certain he looks crazy as all get out if the stare he gets from a passerby means anything.

Of course… now he’s left glaring across the street again.

He can feel the Infini-Map burning a hole in his backpack. It said this was the next place a natural portal would open and get him back home.

It just didn’t say… when that portal would open.

But of course, it’ll be right in the middle of somebody’s store. Usually not an issue. Except again, this stupid city’s curses are attracted to his energy, so of course the store couldn’t be literally ANYTHING ELSE!

Danny glares at the stupid fricking sign and the stupid predictable pun and the stupid neon hand in the front window waving at him.

‘The Claire Witch Project: psychic, medium, and Claire-voyant’

Danny is on day three of simultaneously avoiding the entire building while remaining close enough he can be there when the portal forms.

He is dirty, tired, and running out of money. In short, Danny is starting to lose hope on this endeavor.

The worst part?

He has the perfect solution.

There’s a pathetic little piece of printer paper taped to the inside of the window.

‘Help wanted’

When he’d first gotten here, Danny had followed the infini-map all the way to this horrific city, seen the sign, and turned a quick 180. He’d rather die again thanks.

He’d smacked into two billboards just coming into the city, and there was literally no stars, why would he want to stay here till the portal opened when he could just find another?

Except.. Danny’s eye twitches dangerously as he thinks back on it- except there wasn’t another portal. This was it. For the foreseeable future, he either caught this portal or was stranded for whoever knows how much longer.

Danny sighs again and dreads his continued existence. He looks both ways on the street, takes a step forward, nearly gets run over, steps back, and turns for the nearest crosswalk.

Fine. He could follow rules if it meant increasing his chances of leaving.

He tries to hold in the sigh this time, he really does, he swears.

Not the one before he opens the shop door though, that sigh deserved freedom from his trials. It joins the myriad of whispy translucent shades lingering in the store. Because of course there was just enough spiritual energy in here for them to be visible to him.

“Hey there!” A girl in loose fitting colorful clothing appears from behind a corner, “I’m Claire! How can I help your life journey today?” He can see the way her bulky crystal hair accessories sway with her movements. What was he getting into here again?

Danny tries to ignore the incense shoving itself up his nose as he speaks, “Hey, I was…” He was really doing this huh? “Hoping that the help wanted position is still available?”

The girl looks him over as she moves to the back of the checkout counter. The clear observation makes him nervous, and he takes his hands out of his pockets to try and look marginally more… candidate-able.

“You have experience?”

“Sure d-“ He wants to throw up in his own mouth, ancients this is so cringe, just let him die, “Sure do!” He says through choked back vomit and false cheer, “I’m a…” -barf- “I’m a medium.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, you don’t need a uniform, I don’t need your size silly!”

Danny blinks. What? Also. What?

“Wait-I’m hired?”

Claire pauses from getting something from under the counter, “Didn’t I already say that?”

“Uh…” Danny’s eyes dart around the shop, “No?”

“Oh well, you are, you have the right vibes, don’t worry,” she slides a few papers onto the glass counter, and Danny is abruptly, horrifically reminded he has no legal documents to speak of here. He thinks. He hasn’t actually checked.

Crap.

“Of course, most of my clients pay in cash, so I’ll pay you in cash too just to make it easier, and any crystal sales I’ll just add to it. Sound good?”

“Sure?” Oh no, is this gonna be Danny’s first real job? “But I don’t know anything about crystals. I have a goth friend but she’s not into that stuff.”

Claire waves his comment away, “Oh no worries, I can leave a packet.”

Danny nods, “Thank- wait, sorry. Leave?”

Claire laughs, pulling out a bag from behind her counter, “Yes I leave for a trip in two days. Family things you know,”

Danny feels like his brain is being scrambled, “Oh, what, what happened? Is everything okay?”

Claire looks at him, blinking wide, “What? Why would anything have happened?”

“Because… you said, you were leaving for-“

“Just don’t want to get caught in a bad position, you know how it is.”

Some of the shades stir in the air, their misty movements twitching with agitation enough to draw his eye for a second.

“Right. Well I’m glad I came when I did then,” Danny says, because he still doesn’t want to be rude.

Claire smiles at him.

Danny pats his hands against his sides awkwardly, trying not to look up at the movement of the shades intertwined with incense smoke at the ceiling.

There’s a little jingle behind him, which he belatedly realizes is the door when Claire moves to greet them before he can even turn around.

“Ms. Jives! Wonderful to see you! How’s the goldfish?”

Ms. Jives turns out to be a slightly older woman, maybe early seventies with a cane but she looks good. The coffee brown hair is almost certainly a dye job but it frames her wrinkled face well.

“Oh Jim is lovely dear, much better this way, I bought him a new plant just the other day, he just loves it.”

“Good, here for your reading right?”

“I am! But you can finish up with your customer first if you need,” Ms. Jives says. Claire waves her concern away.

“No need, this is Danny, I just hired him, he has a similar mystical connection.”

“Oh that’s lovely,” Ms. Jives says as she passes by him, “Would you like to come with dear? Claire is going to do a reading for me.”

Danny grimaces, “Sure.”

In the end, by the time Ms. Jives makes it slowly to the back room, Danny is trying to think of where he’s gonna sleep tonight. He mostly zones out when Claire dims the lights and starts talking nonsense.

All he heard was “something something card, something something magician something reversed something something balance something something chihuahua.”

Ok, maybe he wasn’t listening. But he was trying to focus on not staring at the movement of the shades, and the incense was mega strong and Claire had some weird ass music playing. He’s almost certain she’s faking everything. Down to the atrociously bright bead earrings.

Danny sags when she finishes, all too happy to leave the weird little curtain covered room.

He stands in the front awkwardly while Ms. Jives pays, twiddling with the various crystals and trying to figure which ones are actually y’know.. mystical or whatever.

Answer? Surprisingly most of them. That he could tell, at least, but it’s not like he actually knows how to sense that out on purpose. He’s pretty sure a couple of the heart shaped rose quartzes are complete duds but what does he care.

He’s thoroughly bored by the time Claire calls him back over. Apparently to tell him that he’ll do a reading tomorrow.

“Tomorrow?!” Danny blurts, “Don’t you want to like- I don’t know, make sure I can- or like.. I don’t know, but tomorrow?”

Claire just smiles at him, “I believe you can handle it, trust me.”

‘Trust you? Lady, I just met you and you’ve been nothing but crazy the whole time!’ Danny wants to say, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and nods with what he’s sure is fear in his eyes.

Then she’s pressing something into his hands and when he looks down it’s a key. A key. There’s no way-

“So be here 9am sharp, Danny! You can open up and I’ll come in later!” Claire starts pushing him towards the door, “And Mr. Wayne should be waiting for you when you get here!”

Danny turns around to catch himself in the doorframe, “Mr who will be what now!? Wait, Ms. Claire, Ma’am- why-!” He stops to lower his volume and ask politely, “Why am I doing this? You don’t even know me,” Danny says, one leg still in the store.

Claire smiles, “Because the universe told me to silly! See you tomorrow! Here’s my number!” Then she slaps a sticky note to his chest with enough finality that Danny takes a step back. The door closes with a click and ring of the bell inside.

Danny stares at the door with his eye twitching for at least a minute.

What the hell did ‘the universe told me to’ even mean, you kook!?

Danny sighs and looks down at the sticky note, quickly inputting the number in his phone before something happens to it.

He’s barely hit save when he finally steps away from the shop front and…. is immediately drenched to the bone.

Because apparently it’d been pouring rain and he simply hadn’t noticed from under the awning.

He watches as blue ink slides off the sticky note in little sad face streaks.

Danny sighs.

[pinkslipxox]

Hey! I have a request. But please ignore this if you want to, I did see your last post saying how you have alot of requests at the moment! So please don't ever feel like you need to write this okay? Just something basic, pregnant reader is really struggling to fall asleep because baby girl won't stop kicking her mama. Billie wakes up and just rubs her belly and gives us reassurance. She even tries to make us laugh by having a "talk" with the baby telling her to stop hurting her mama or mommy's not gonna be happy. We find it hilarious. We end up falling asleep to billie spooning up and rubbing out stomach and gently rubbing the top of our head because she knows that helps us fall asleep.

- but thank you so so much for taking the time to read this. Once again, please don't write this if you don't want to! I love ya 🫶🏻

Hey there my love! Hope you like it! Thank you so much for your kindness and understanding 🥰

————————————————-——————————

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel your unborn daughter move about inside your womb. You’ve been trying so hard to fall asleep, but to no avail. Of course, it is always a joy and relief to you whenever you feel your baby kick, but it seems that she’s picked the worst part of the day— well, night in the case— to be active.

You carefully sit yourself up straighter, breathing slowly in and out just as your doctor had suggested a few days ago, praying that you don’t wake up your sleeping wife. Despite knowing that Billie wouldn’t mind if you woke her up, you feel bad at the thought of doing so. She’s been working so hard when it comes to balancing work and taking care of you, and you know that she needs her rest as much as you do.

“Please let Mama sleep,” you murmur softly as you run your belly in attempt to calm your daughter. Just then, you feel a hand touch your shoulder. Your wife has woken up.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Billie asks, her voice groggy yet full of concern.

“She won’t stop kicking, Billie,” you whimper, wincing as you feel another strong kick. “And it hurts. All I want to do is sleep.”

“How can I help, my love?” Billie offers as she gently rubs your swollen belly.

“Can you please get another pillow for my back?” you request and Billie nods.

“Yes, of course,” she replies and kisses your forehead before hurrying off to find the pillow. She comes back a moment later and helps you lean forward so that she can put the pillow behind your back.

“Thank you, my love,” you sigh, reveling in the small amount of relief.

“You’re welcome.” Billie rubs your baby bump, her ocean blue eyes looking into yours with such tenderness and love. “I know it’s hard, sweetheart. You’re doing such an amazing job. Soon we’ll have our little girl, and she’s going to be just as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, Billie,” you murmur, tears swelling in your eyes. “You’re the sweetest.”

“Only for my girls,” Billie chuckles softly before pressing a kiss to your belly. “Damn, she’s having a party in there!”

“Of course— she’s your daughter, after all,” you tease with a smirk and Billie sticks her tongue out playfully at you.

“Hmm, I wonder…” Billie muses with a playful gleam in her eyes. She then makes a fist with her hand and taps on the imaginary microphone in her hand. “Hello? Is this thing on? Can you hear Mommy, baby girl?”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh. Then, at the feel of your daughter kicking her again, you tell her, “She can hear you loud and clear, Bills.”

“Now, baby girl,” Billie begins in a mock-stern voice. “Listen to Mommy. I know how much you think it’s fun to kick your mama like she’s a soccer ball but she needs her rest. And if you don’t stop kicking her by the time I count to three…”

“Billie, oh my God,” you laugh out loud, shaking your head fondly at your wife.

“One… two… three,” Billie counts and the two f you hold your breath.

“I think… it worked,” you breathe in awe and Billie smirks.

“Guess we know who’s her favorite mother,” your wife teases and you gasp, feigning hurt.

“After all I do for you…” you tisk, running your belly. You then smile at Billie. “Thank you for helping, my love. And I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. We’re in this together,” Billie reassures you and brings your hand up to her lips, kissing it.

“Cuddle us?” you request with a pout and Billie nods with a smile.

Billie helps you lay back down on the bed and once you are comfortable, she cuddles up from behind you, your back pressed against her chest. She wraps her arm under your bump, her thumb gently caressing there, and kisses your temple. You slowly begin to relax under her touch, her fingers gently massaging your scalp just the way you like it.

“Good night, my baby girls,” Billie murmurs softly, and your heart swells.

“Good night, Billie,” you hum as you close your eyes, grateful to have your wife right by your side, no matter what time of day or night.

[meowstri]

you could wipe my mind, i'd still be stuck on you

tags: peter parker x fem!reader, tooth-rotting fluff, college/university au, lots of sarcasm, 1k words synopsis: while going out shopping to buy snacks for movie night, your bf, peter parker, tries to convince to you to let him get a new video game. chaos ensues. a/n: wow hey welcome to my first fic posted on here... sorry if this seems rushed haha. tysm @103rafes for helping me with the ending, ily man. reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!! title is from stuck on you by grentperez

"alright, i think we've got everything!" your eyes scanned through the various assortment of junk food in the grocery cart. "movie night is gonna be awe-" You turned to face your bf only to find no one standing near you. "ugh... where is that idiot?"

walking around the store, you find your boyfriend of 1 year, peter parker, in the electronics section. of course he was. you thought, he probably even forgot what they were at the store for.

he was staring intently at the newest spider-man video game. Spider-Man 2, it had came out just last month and everyone was going crazy over it. he had a scrunched up look on his face, studying the cover of the game in the clear display case.

as you walked up to him, his senses picked up on your location and he turned his head around, quickly glancing at you before turning his head back towards the display case. "i still can't believe they make video games of me. they really captured my likeness" he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "i am so going to get this."

rolling your eyes, you sighed. "no we're not mister. c'mon its time to go home." you tugged on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, but Peter still didn't move an inch.

"please y/n... ned has the game! so does everyone we know!"

"why don't you just go over to ned's house and play it?" you suggested, rolling your eyes once again. "yeah, keep rolling your eyes. it'll be stuck like that soon enough." he huffed with a pout. "if you let me get it i'll let you pick the movie tonight. i know you love those cheesy hallmark movies..." peter said in a sing-songy voice. he leaned in to give you a small peck on the cheek and looked at you with his chocolate puppy-dog eyes.

"your silly antics don't work on me." you can't help but let out a giggle as buried his face into your neck and kissing every expanse of skin on it. peter wrapped his arms around your waist hugging you close. "but no. out of the both of us, you're the worst at managing your spendings and we need the money."

he hummed. "but mr. stark gave me my paycheck on monday, its more than enough to buy the game and put away some of it in our savings..."

"you mean your allowance?"

"hey! i may not be an avenger, but i still work for one of the richest people in america" he laughed, messing up your hair. "so... can i still get it?"

you hesitated for a moment, doing some calculations in your head. the two of you lived together in a dingy apartment and did extra jobs on the side to keep the both of them afloat. you knew peter worked hard a lot, trying to keep his grades up while maintaining his life as the city's spider-man so maybe he did deserve something nice for himself.

the corners of your mouth lifted in a small smile. "well..."

—

“did you see that! i beat his ass so hard.” your bf laughed. you watched intently at the screen trying to decipher what was going on but all you could see were bright flashes of colour.

“you already beat ass in real life. don’t understand why you need to buy this game just to play a virtual version of yourself.” you said jokingly while eating from the bowls of chips and candy you bought earlier that day. you grimaced as you peter took a large handful of m&ms and popcorn, shoving them into his mouth.

“true, but this is more fun.” he said between mouthfuls. “plus i don’t get hurt.” he gave you a dorky little grin.

well there was no denying that, you thought as you smiled back. as much as peter tried to argue, you insisted on paying for the game as a gift. just seeing peter smile over some silly game made you fall in love with him all over again. it was surreal, dating the spider-man. the same one that appeared on the news 24/7. the same one that made you worry for days wondering if he might come back from saving crime.

but he wasn’t just spider-man. he was just plain old peter parker. the boy from queens that you met all those years ago. the boy who was practically an academic genius and the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

interrupting you from your thoughts, peter wrapped his arm around your shoulder and held you tightly. he had already finished playing the game but he still grasped the controller in his hand.

“what are you thinking about?” he asked quietly, playing with the strands of hair falling on your shoulders. he smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of butter from the popcorn.

“what?”

peter chuckled. “you were staring at me with that look you get when you’re thinking really hard. like your nose scrunches up a bit and you have this wide smile on your face”

“oh… i wasn’t really thinking about anything.” you locked eyes with him, staring into his big, doe brown eyes. you shimmied closer to him and rested your head on shoulder. “just thinking about how great you are.”

“thanks for feeding my ego— ow!” you punched him on the arm but there was no anger to it. “im joking, im joking. you’re great too.” the smile lines on his face deepened.

peter leaned his head against yours. “thank you for getting me that game by the way. i love you.” he pressed his lips against your temple, making a line down towards your cheeks, then ending at your lips. they were soft and warm, and he tasted like slightly like chocolate.

“mm, love you too spidey-boy. now play your game, i didn’t spend 90 dollars on that for nothing.” you giggled lightly.

unable to pull away from your face, he grumbled. “okay, okay! way to ruin a moment with my lovely girlfriend…”

“does this spider-man have a girlfriend too?” you nodded towards the screen.

“you’re better than any video game girlfriend i could have as spider-man”. you couldn’t help but let out a string of laughs as he pulled you in again, planting kisses all over your face.

fin.

[kiwriteswords]

Hii I love your writing!! I just wanted to ask if you could write a little Hotch x BAU!reader oneshot where the reader is on her period and Hotch takes care of her!! I need that right now

A Quiet Kind of Care

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: I could have used an Aaron Hotchner last week when this was me! Thanks so much for sending this one in, Anon. It was a fun one to write on my day off today!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: >1k

Tags/Warnings: Secret Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tender Moments, Reader who gets a period, Soft!Hotch

Sypnosis: After a long, grueling day on a case, you push through your discomfort to keep up with the team, all while secretly dating Aaron Hotchner. When you finally retreat to the privacy of your hotel room, Hotch’s quiet attentiveness and subtle gestures of care remind you just how much he understands your needs, offering a moment of solace and connection away from prying eyes.

Aaron's keen observation skills were not just a professional asset but a personal one, too. His years of marriage to Haley had honed his awareness of the women in his life, including you. He could discern the subtle signs of discomfort and weariness that often remained unspoken, understanding that even the strongest women needed a little extra care at times.

He’d caught on gradually—the way you’d press a hand to your lower back or shift uncomfortably in your chair during long briefings, the slight furrow in your brow that signaled more than just stress. There were times he noticed you reach instinctively toward your abdomen, only to lower your hand quickly, as if not wanting anyone to see. He saw these little signs, things the rest of the team might overlook but which he couldn’t ignore.

As he watched you navigate the case with more determination than usual, Aaron didn’t need to ask what was wrong. Instead, he offered a steadfast presence, quietly supporting you in small ways throughout the day—taking on more physical tasks, and giving you brief respites, all while keeping a watchful eye on you.

When the day finally wrapped, he made his way to your room, ready to be there for you in the way he knew you’d never ask but that he was more than willing to offer. One of the things he loved most about you was your strength and resilience. And yet, as much as he admired it, he wanted you to know that you didn’t always have to be strong with him.

The hotel hallway was quiet; the sounds of the bustling day long faded into stillness. It had been a grueling day on the case, with too many close calls and endless hours spent in the field. You were exhausted, your entire body aching, and the discomfort of your period only worsened your fatigue. Despite the pain, you’d managed to keep it all under wraps, not wanting the team to notice or, worse, worry. But Aaron—Aaron always knew.

As you leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Aaron, a wave of relief washed over you at the thought of being alone with him. The quiet knock on the door signaled his arrival, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of calm and anticipation.

A quiet knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You opened it to find Aaron standing there, his gaze gentle, softened with concern.

“Come in,” you whispered, letting him in quickly and quietly.

Once inside, he closed the door softly, turning back to you with a small, knowing smile that held all the warmth and reassurance you needed. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle, steady embrace. His hand settled at the middle of your back, his fingers spreading wide, grounding you as he held you close.

Slowly, he began to run his hand up and down your spine, a soothing rhythm that seemed to melt away the tension you’d been carrying all day. His other arm tightened around your shoulders, drawing you even closer as if shielding you from the day’s lingering stress. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to his heart's steady, calming beat, letting it lull you into a place of warmth and safety. His chin came to rest lightly atop your head, and he exhaled as if he, too, had needed this moment just as much.

You felt the day's weight slip away in his arms, replaced by a quiet sense of peace that only Aaron could give. For a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, the world outside the door forgotten.

“You’ve been pushing yourself all day,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with concern. “You could’ve let me help sooner, you know.”

​​You sighed, leaning into his shoulder with a small smile. “It’s just part of the job. Nothing I can’t handle.”

He looked at you, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You don’t have to hide with me. Here—sit down.”

Aaron guided you over to the bed, settling you comfortably. He’d brought a small bag with him, and you watched as he pulled out a few items: a water bottle, some painkillers, and a small heating pad. You raised an eyebrow in surprise, touched by the thoughtfulness.

“When did you even get those?” you asked softly, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the heating pad.

He chuckled, settling beside you, reaching to plug the heating pad into the outlet beside the bed.

“I have my ways.” He placed the heating pad gently against your stomach, and the warmth was an immediate relief, easing the cramps that had been gnawing at you all day. “You don’t think I’d let you suffer alone, do you?”

You leaned more fully against his shoulder, feeling the tension start to slip away as he wrapped an arm around you. His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips tracing gentle, soothing lines across your stomach, each movement easing the ache a little more. He stayed quiet, his steady breathing a calming rhythm, grounding you as you let yourself relax into him.

“You know,” he whispered after a while, “it wouldn’t hurt to tell me these things sooner. You don’t have to act tough with me.”

You looked up at him, catching the glint of tenderness in his eyes. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

He gently kissed your forehead, his lips warm and soft. “You could never be a bother.”

You stayed wrapped in his arms, the silence between you filled with the quiet understanding that was so uniquely yours. Moments like this, hidden from the rest of the world, were precious—just you and Aaron, no titles, no cases, just two people caring for each other in the simplest, truest way.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

[kizzer55555]

Alternative idea. They are chasing Danny ‘the betrayer’ down and as they follow the leads and clues and leftovers of where he’s been, they start slowly piecing together the mystery of who Danny is and why he’s doing this. And they find out just how deep the betrayal went. Because it was the Justice league that made the first move.

They finally catch up with him and he’s decoding something and he just snaps at them to leave him alone. He’s cold, not even acknowledging at them, this is nothing like the Danny they knew. They try to talk to him and when that doesn't work it breaks out into a battle. But Danny knows all their moves and weaknesses and they don’t know the first thing about his limits. He’s ruthless and efficient, not showing the barest hint of emotion on his face like this battle against his ‘friends’ means nothing to him. He doesn’t even have to reveal his powers. And once they are all completly immobile he whispers “I never wanted to hurt you.” Someone scoffs. “You have a funny way of showing that.” Danny rolls his eyes. “It’s your own fault. You really should have seen this coming.”

“Oh really?” A hero speaks, venom dripping with every word. “Is it really that easy to betray your friends? To betray the ones you trust?”

Danny just laughs without any emotion behind it. “Trust? Nah, I never trusted you. Let me tell you something, when my home town was invaded, we called the Justice league. But they never came. When we were besieged every. Single. Day. By monsters and demons and entitled government agents that had no regard for casualties, they never came. Do you know what it’s like? To always have to look at the sky in case something comes down a snatch you? To hide behind a trash can or alley wall and pray that skin peeling cyborg will pass you by? To be scared of the very food you eat wondering if it was poisoned or the meat was going to attack you? To wake up realize no one is moving and wonder if your friends and family will ever wake up again? We called over and over but they never came. So we had to find our own way to fight back. We had to build weapons to protect ourselves and our children. We had to fight tooth and nail just to make it to tommorow and finally, finally we figured out a system. We managed to push them back enough to breathe. And it was only then that your people arrived.

You abandoned my town to face their death. You took me from my home. You locked up my family and tortured them.” By now, Danny was screaming and crying. His eyes looked absolutely devastated. “How…can you possibly ask me to trust you after that?”

Danny doesn’t even explain himself and his reasoning. That’s how little he thinks of the heroes. He doesn’t care if what they think he’s doing is right or wrong or if it’s justified. Some think he’s doing some sort of master plan to take over the world rather than just rescuing his parents which makes even more devastating to them when they find out what he’s actually doing.

It’s a race against time and by the end, Waller launches a strike against the heroes and it ends up being Danny that built a counter solution to the anti super weapons. He still doesn’t care about them but he was a protector at heart. He always will be. He just didn’t need someone’s ‘permission’ to do so. When he finally frees his parents (possibly dragging in the help of his classmates for a break out) they stand and Waller says that they’ve lost as they are surrounded, no weapons, and all the heroes/former villains powerless because of machines specifically designed against them. And that’ when Danny looks her right in the eyes and says that there’s one thing he forgot to mention.

He has powers too.

Danny held up a large sign from the background like a man at an airport as thier leader, Robin, gave his report to this "Justice League". The first sign said, "Help! I'm surrounded by daddy issues!" Earning a laugh from someone off camera. He then pulled the next card out from behind the first one.

"Can you send air fresheners? It smells like teen angst in here"

This one got a cackle from someone on the Justice League side of things. Score. No one here really wants to laugh. They're all edgelords and Danny is suffering. He didn't really want to be here, but things in Amity had ended in a way he never expected.

Both he and his parents had been arrested.

Not by his worlds government, mind you, but by the government of another Earth. This Earth that he was currently on to be more accurate. Who knew that so much of the stuff he and his parents had been doing was super illegal and wouldn't ya know it? He was in the middle of doing something really sketchy looking in his parents lab when the feds busted in.

Thankfully, the Justice League presented him with a deal: they take him out of Juvie and the reformation program he was in, and in return, he joins a team of former teen/child villains and anti-heros.

Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point he agreed.

He was not expecting to be surrounded by angry angsty teens. His fault really. He should have known better. Thankfully it seems like nobody knows about Phantom and he'd like to keep it that way.

Psaro was his calm in the storm. The other boy was proud and almost as arrogant as Robin, but he had been proven to be very kind and reliable. If Danny ever needed advice or if Robin was getting a bit too much, he could just knock of Psaros door.

The last time Robin had a fit and was starting a fight with someone, Mr. Pointy ears stepped up and told Robin that his outburst was undignified, especially for someone of a higher class like Robin seems to be presenting himself as. He also said something about there being a big difference between a king and a tyrant, but Danny had been trying to rush Robin's victim to the medway and didn't hear all of the convo.

Psaro was some kind of half demon prince who was also from another world. He didn't have a superhero name yet, but the program was brand new, and to be fair, Danny didn't officially have one either.

Some lady called Raven was supposed to be coming in to help Psaro and convince him to embrace his human half and help him with magic and...something about a curse? What did Danny get himself into???

[crimsoncandy04]

You know what? Fuck society.

(yandereifies your Kabukimono cutely.) (He's obsessed and afraid of losing you)

His hands held onto yours tightly as he pinned you underneath him on the soft mattress below you. His sweet face flushed with both desire and a deep sinister rage that simmered within his soul.

You had no idea your new roommate would be this upset over you simply wanting to go have dinner with a friend.

His innocent and kind disposition was clearly hiding something else deep inside of him. Something very dark...

...and utterly desperate for affection...

"You lied to me. You lied! You said you wouldn't leave me alone ever again after the last time!" His voice sounded both hurt and slightly unstable.

You tried to shake your head.

"Kabu no you don't understand! It was just a small thing I was doing with my friends! Just a few drinks together. I swear I was going to come back!"

"No! No! You were going to get hurt! What if you drank too much and fell down? What if you accidentally got sick or injured? What if someone attacked you? You were going to LEAVE me!"

His hands shook a little as they held yours in place beside your head.

Oh archons was he going to hurt you or something?

No.

The opposite actually.

Suddenly Kabukimono leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart raced as you felt his tongue gently lick your bottom lip as if asking for permission before he shoved it into your mouth. You blush and feel yourself freeze as you're mentally caught between shock and excitement.

"K-Kabu... when did you learn how to kiss?" You suddenly ask timidly.

He smiles teasingly at you as he moves to leave more small kisses down the side of your neck. His gentle yet raspy tone whispering in your ear.

"I may have seen people do it before... and read a few books. Taught myself the basics just in case. That type of stuff is everywhere you know? I'm surprised you actually believe I somehow WOULDN'T know by now. I'm not a child you know?"

You feel yourself getting flustered at his words.

Kabu had read dirty books before?

You feel his lower body press against yours next. A small gasp escaping from your lips as he lets go of one of your hands and moves to secure them with one as the free hand of his now runs down your chest and stomach. Stopping to cup the warmth between your thighs.

"Hey don't touch there ~" you can't help but moan softly at the sensation even if it's slightly unexpected. His fingers are both gentle and commanding all at once as they slowly trace along your clothed slit.

"But I have to touch here so it doesn't hurt. I need to get you ready right? Don't worry, I'll try to make it feel very good ~" his warm tone gave you little comfort but something about him practically kept you under a spell as you lay there trying not to moan as you felt Kabukimono slide your panties aside and carefully ease two fingers deep inside of you.

You whimper softly as you feel him move them around a little. Trying to see what made you feel best as he kept his eyes on your face. Finally he got a small moan out of you. A small smile spread across his face as he repeated the movement. Scissoring your insides open with his long slender fingers and rubbing your sweet spot as lewd noises escaped your mouth shamelessly.

"Kabu! Kabu please! It feels good! I love this!" You gasp as he doubles down and finally releases your hands. You grip the sheets as his other hand goes to push up your blouse and expose your breasts to him. He leans down to take one of the soft peaks of tender flesh into his cool wet mouth. Moaning a little himself as he sucked gently on your nipple and continued to finger you.

You feel your pussy clench around his fingers. Your breath coming out in gasps as you feel yourself cum on his hand.

He releases your nipple from his mouth and brings his fingers to his lips instead. Sticking them between his lips as he cleans your delicious juices from them hungrily.

"You taste so good Y/N~ I want to hear you make more of those cute noises too~"

You don't immediately notice in your daze. But by the time you do realize Kabukimono is fucking you, it's too late and he's already prying your knees further apart as he slides in between them. His tip teasing your entrance before plunging inside your oversensitive cunt to the hilt. A lovely moan leaves his lips as he pauses for a second. Almost as if he was taking in the feeling of being inside of you before slowly beginning to thrust.

He probably knew his size could hurt. So he was trying to be careful as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. His balls smacking against your ass as he leaned down to give you another kiss.

Kabukimono felt so right inside of you.

Like his cock was made for you and you in turn, fit him perfectly as well. You finally lose your composure then as he pushes your knees up a little and begins to fuck a little faster into you. His words coming out in between moans as he practically breeds you underneath him.

"Y/N never leave me! Please stay. I'll make you stay. You will stay! Please I love you!" He kisses you again. Sloppy and greedy kisses.

"Kabu harder! Please give me more! I need you! Please fuck me harder!" You whine as he obeys your slutty wishes.

"Y/N I'm going to knock you up ~ Then you'll have no choice but to stay with me forever ~ Don't worry, I'll take care of you ~ I want to fuck you everyday ~" he teased in between more kisses and a small lick across your cheek.

"You're so tight Y/N...so warm~" he cooed. His thrusts getting faster now as he got closer to his release.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close as you feel your own body reaching it's second peak too.

"Kabu please cum with me! I love you so much!" You whine. His eyes full of nothing but adoration and lust as they gaze down at your lewd expression lovingly.

"I love you too Y/N! Let's be together forever!" Both of you end up finishing after that. The feeling of your love fluids mixing together in your cunt gives you shivers as Kabukimono collapses on top of you. You both lay holding each other after that. The moon gets brighter in the night sky as you feel his cock harden against your thigh once more.

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

part 3: the last day of investigation

previous part here

epilogue here

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

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

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

words: 9 k....i'm insane, i'm aware

Your dad was the one who managed to explain everything to you.

Once, you hated the coldness he exuded. Everything he said seemed so devoid of emotion, as if he didn't have any at all. Probably, if he had ever tried to say "I love you," those words would have gotten stuck in his throat, causing choking and death.

At that moment, you appreciated it for the first time. He told you how your mom had found Jeremy in the bathtub, the water completely stained with blood. If an outsider had heard it, they would have thought he was talking about some stranger's child, not his own son, so composed he sounded. But you heard all the tiny breaks in his voice, the pauses to swallow saliva that slowly dripped down his throat.

You stood with your back against the door, the phone slipping from your numb hand.

For a moment, you felt simply empty. Without feelings or thoughts. What was this room you were in — the bathroom? A bathroom, what even is that? Syllables joined into a longer sound that should have some specific meaning. What meaning? You didn’t know. A loud ringing filled your ears, driving everything out of your mind.

The phone call had ended. The device was still pressed against your cheek, slipping further and further from your grip. After a while — you couldn’t tell how long — it simply fell to the floor, onto the simple black-and-white tiles. You didn’t even hear the sound it made.

You might have stayed frozen there for hours if not for the soft tapping on the other side of the door. You were only just returning to reality, so you couldn’t respond. Then someone spoke your name in a questioning tone. You ignored that too, though not intentionally. For a moment, you had simply forgotten your own name. This unsettled the person in the next room; after a few seconds, they grasped the handle and pushed the door. It met the barrier of your back, and that gentle jolt was what began to pull you out of your trance.

The first breath hurt; the first thought nearly brought you to your knees.

Jeremy. Your little brother.

Moving as if on autopilot, you turned toward the door and opened it. At first, Spencer seemed to exhale with relief, but then he saw the expression on your face, and his slightly hunched posture straightened, shifting to one of concern.

You’d taken over the bathroom as soon as you returned to the hotel, so he hadn’t had a chance to change. He’d only hung up his jacket by the door, taken off his vest, and remained in his shirt with a loosened tie and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out.

“W-what happened? I thought I heard something fall…”

“It was...um...the phone,” you managed to choke out.

“I-I was talking to my dad, my dad, but first with my mom, and…and she was mad at me because of…because of…wait, what did you ask?” The words spilling from you were one big jumble. You pressed a cool hand to your forehead, burning as if with fever, your brain throbbing with effort, as if you were delivering a university lecture on nuclear physics.

Spencer was no longer just concerned — he was terrified. Seeing how you were barely standing on legs that refused to cooperate, he caught you just before you fell. You collapsed face-first onto his shoulder, surrendering entirely to gravity.

“Oh…okay, okay, it’s okay now,” he whispered, resting one hand on the back of your head and the other on your back, offering support.

You closed your eyes, only now realizing they were filled with tears. The shock was fading, the barrier that had held back every other emotion finally breaking down. They began to overwhelm you, resulting in a muffled sob against his body. 

“He tried to kill himself,” you finally managed to say, the meaning of the words slowly sinking in. You repeated it several times, each time quieter but with more awareness. “He tried…he tried…”

“No, you don’t have to... just... oh god, I’m so sorry...” He stammered. He realized that no words would be enough, none would help you. Instead of wasting energy on them, he poured it all into the embrace, holding you even tighter.

You simply stayed in that position, as time passed by.

"What's with him?" he asked when your breathing finally returned to a steady rhythm, and the pain wasn't as sharp. His voice was so soft, soothing like a lullaby. "Your brother?"

You realized that, because of your secrecy, you had never even casually mentioned Jeremy to him. This was the first time you were talking about him. Under these circumstances

"Dad said his condition is stable." You raised your head, and your eyes met by accident. You quickly looked back down at your hands. You felt exposed in a way you never had before with anyone else, and it was strange, unfamiliar. But you couldn’t say it was entirely negative. "He’s under observation now; he lost a lot of blood. If my mom hadn’t found him..."

You shook your head, trying to chase away the dark visions and scenarios.

"Spencer," you sighed, struggling to put into words what had been tormenting you from the very beginning. "I... I can’t stop thinking about how much of this is my fault."

"I left him with our parents. Fully aware of what they’re like. I told him he could rely on me but  I was in another city, only keeping in touch by phone. Irregulary. Since we started working on this case, I’ve spoken to him once…"

Until now, you hadn’t maintained strong eye contact; each time it happened, you pulled away. But in that moment, there was something in his gaze that wouldn’t let you look away. Reid was definitely not one to offer empty words of comfort or general platitudes. Seeing him remain silent, you were certain he was about to say something entirely his own.

“Blaming yourself is a very common, I’d even say natural, part of grief, and I’m afraid that nothing I say will make you stop feeling this way, but I’ll try anyway. You didn’t abandon Jeremy. Even if there was distance between you, you still tried to be there for him, you cared for him like no one else did. You know, even if you usually avoided talking about it, it was still very clear. Sometimes I’d see you from a distance talking to him on the phone. I couldn’t hear a word, but… I wondered a lot who that person was. The one who makes you so happy” He looked slightly flustered, blushing as he realized what he had mentioned, but continued nonetheless. “You seemed so happy and genuinely invested. I can tell that you didn’t stay in touch with him out of guilt or obligation alone. He truly meant the world to you. And… what I’m trying to say is that… sometimes, no matter how much we try, there are things we just can’t control. This is incredibly hard for you, and you blame yourself for all of it, but I hope that someday you’ll see that not everything depended on you, and none of this is your fault."

You stared at him in silence, not knowing what to say. His words… they touched you, pierced your skin, and lodged deeply within your body. They soothed you, like a lullaby sung to a child before sleep. You realized just how incredibly grateful you were that you both shared this room.

"I don't know what I would do if you weren't here," you answered softly, feeling the area around your eyes tighten, signaling the tears that were about to come.

Without hesitation, he simply embraced you.

With his chin resting on the top of your head and your forehead pressed against his collarbone.

"You would manage. You’re strong. But you deserve to have someone by your side in a moment like this."

You whispered that you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. He offered you one of the sleeping pills he had mentioned in the car, though it would take a little while for them to take effect. You lay on your side, with your knees curled up. It wasn’t until the morning that you realized you were on his bed, surprised to find yourself so far from the window. That was your first thought, still not fully sober.

The room was drowning in darkness, the only sources of light being the faint glow of the moon sneaking in like a thief through the imperfectly drawn curtain, and the alarm clock on the nightstand between your beds, showing the time as 4:47.

You stretched your sleepy eyelids open and rubbed them with your hand, not moving from your spot. You felt a little embarrassed that you had fallen asleep in Spencer’s bed, but then you noticed his silhouette in yours. It turned out you had simply swapped places. Since it was only your second night in this hotel, it hadn’t yet absorbed his scent. Not that you were looking for it. You were just curious, which is why you pressed your face so firmly into the pillow.

Spencer was lying with his face turned toward you. However, he didn’t seem completely relaxed, almost as if even the sound of dust floating in the air could wake him. This turned out to be a very accurate observation, as the moment you opened your eyes, he did the same.

"Hey, how do you feel?" he asked. His voice was quiet, hoarse.

"I'm too awake to go back to sleep for another week. Unfortunately," you muttered, turning onto your back. Of course, it was sarcasm. You couldn’t sleep for too long, you had to... you weren’t even sure what you had to do. You urgently needed to find out what had happened with Jeremy over the past few hours. Was his condition still stable, or had it improved significantly overnight, or…

The thought of another conversation with your father drained you. Or, worse yet, your mother. They were, however, your only source of information about your unconscious brother.

So yes, you needed to make a call, then get up, pull yourself together, maybe eat something… it all sounded more than overwhelming.

"I'll talk to Hotch, if you want. He’ll let you go back, even today."

The mention of the boss’s name hit you like an ice cube dropped under your shirt. Despite everything that had happened yesterday, you were still at work. In the middle of hunting down a seven-time murderer who had discarded his last two victims just yesterday. A murderer who, from the very beginning, had stirred your intuition, suggesting that the answer to this puzzle lay somewhere at the back of your mind.

On the other hand, you felt obligated to be by Jeremy’s side when he woke up. Who else would be there for him? A nurse? An emotionally absent father? An unstable, bipolar mother who had probably stopped taking her meds again?

As if against your own will, you lifted yourself into a sitting position, a certain thought suddenly entering your mind.

"I'll stay," you decided.

"Are you sure? If you don't want to talk about it with the others, I’ll do it for you," he offered, propping himself up on his elbows. His hair was a mess, eyes gleaming with worry. "You know Hotch, he may not seem like it, but he's very understanding..."

"Really, I can handle it," you reassured him, but he didn’t seem convinced. "Reid, I need to finish this case. I think I’ve realized something."

He sat on the bed, furrowing his brow. The sudden change in the tone of your voice must have intrigued him; you sounded almost determined.

"What is it?"

You opened your mouth, ready to rush out a chaotic response, but stopped yourself at the last moment. It was so early in the morning, and your mind wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders — how could it be, when you’d only just woken up? It made more sense to wait, to go over the latest findings with the team; maybe they would fit perfectly with your newest theory.

And that’s exactly what happened.

“The victims found on the pumpkin farm have been identified,” Hotch announced instead of a greeting when you met just an hour and a half later. Everyone looked slightly dazed; the coffee they were sipping hadn’t yet kicked in. Likely, only you and Reid had been up this early—physically, you seemed the most alert, yet it was plain to see that your thoughts were still rooted in the previous day, struggling to keep up with everything happening around you. You sat close together, shoulder to shoulder, entirely on instinct, as if an invisible thread connected you, tightening painfully around your wrists whenever you tried to drift too far apart.

From time to time, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, as if checking to see if you were okay. Twice, he gave a slight nod in Hotch’s direction, reminding you that you could still talk to him, ask for permission to go back home. You silently reassured him that you were feeling relatively fine and didn’t want to bring it up with the boss. Just as you broke eye contact, ending the wordless conversation, you noticed Morgan and Prentiss watching the two of you, their heads tilted at the same angle in an almost eerily synchronized way.

You took a breath, feeling slightly embarrassed. Your sudden closeness with Reid must have seemed at the very least… suspicious to them.

“Their names were Denise Grant and Alexa Miller, and listen to this,” Garcia began, her voice quickening as her face appeared on the laptop screen. “Both of them worked at the same orphanage. And what's more — it's the very same orphanage where one of the earlier victims worked.”

The atmosphere thickened as everyone absorbed the significance of the information.

"What are the chances this could be a coincidence?" JJ asked rhetorically.

"Well..." Reid began. His friend raised an eyebrow. "I get it, no large numbers. But small ones. Smaller than the chance that the asteroid..."

"Were the remaining body parts of these women found?" Rossi asked matter-of-factly.

Hotch shook his head.

"Unfortunately, no. The forest is so heavily guarded by the police that it's unlikely the unsub managed to dump them there."

"But he has to be doing something with them," Prentiss said, biting the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. "Doesn't it make you wonder where he's committing all these crimes? He gets rid of the bodies quickly, and there were no signs on the victims suggesting they were held captive. Do you think he could be killing them in his own house?"

"That's possible," Morgan replied. "He wouldn't be the first. And unfortunately, he won't be the last."

"If that's the case, they're going to start smelling awful soon. He'll have to get rid of them, and with so much police presence around, it won't be that easy."

"Let's hope he makes a mistake in the process," Hotch summarized, scanning your faces carefully. Finally, his gaze landed on yours. "You’ll go to the orphanage with..." He swept his eyes over everyone around you, finally settling on Derek. Reid, sitting next to you, shifted uncomfortably.

"I'll go with her," he offered a bit too abruptly.

This shifted the focus of everyone’s attention onto you. You tried to act as if it didn’t matter who would go with you, but deep down, you were hoping it would be him.

You stared at your boss, waiting for his decision. Finally, he nodded and began assigning other tasks to the rest of the team. You couldn't help but smile, barely perceptibly, feeling grateful to Spencer.

It wasn’t that you minded the company of the others; it was simply that none of them had any idea what had happened the day before. They might ask questions about your more withdrawn-than-usual behavior or your subdued mood, and you didn’t want to talk about what had happened with your brother. You knew that with Reid, you would feel the most comfortable.

For a while, you continued discussing the farm workers, who turned out to be employed without contracts, and of course the owner who was hiring them off the books. But with each new statement from your colleagues, you became more and more detached. Your thoughts kept drifting to Jeremy and his behavior over the past few weeks. He had seemed down during your conversations, but you had chalked it up to just the usual busy period at school. On top of that, there was the family situation. Living alone, you'd almost forgotten what a typical day with your mother used to look like. You started to berate yourself, feeling guilty for not being more concerned about his state.

Eventually, everyone dispersed, ready to get back to their tasks.

You went to the car alone, as Reid had been stopped by Derek, who had asked him something with an unreadable expression. His eyebrow had raised suggestively, and you could have sworn you saw it even from several meters away. You stared at the two of them, leaning against the open passenger-side door, intrigued about what the conversation might be about. Normally, you weren’t the curious type; you didn’t like it when people asked you too many questions, and you avoided prying into others’ affairs. But this time, you couldn’t take your eyes off Spencer’s face, clearly embarrassed—maybe even… blushing?

Derek laughed at his reaction and gave him a pat on the back before walking away. Your companion sat in the driver's seat without a word, avoiding your gaze.

"Where is the orphanage?" he asked.

You turned toward him, brow furrowed.

"You remembered the whole map," you reminded him.

"Oh, right..."

You fell silent for several minutes, but your curiosity grew so much that you thought you might not be able to hold it in any longer.

"What were you two talking about? With Morgan?"

"Oh... just some stuff," he replied evasively, overly focused on the road. As if you were in the middle of a busy city during rush hour, rather than on a nearly empty road in the morning.

"You know Morgan and his... sense of humor."

"Yes, I know. Did he tell some great joke?"

"Not really."

"Go ahead. I'm curious."

"I’m telling you, nothing worth repeating... Besides, I've already forgotten it myself..."

"Reid, for God's sake, you literally have a photographic memory...!"

"Okay, fine!" he finally blurted out, removing one hand from the steering wheel and raising it in a defensive gesture. His voice went up a quarter of an octave. He then took a deep breath and put on a seemingly calm expression. "Morgan wanted to know if our... well, unusual... peculiar... definitely different from the previous days... behavior means that..."

"That what?" you asked encouragingly.

"That we slept with each other”

You blinked in slow motion, too shocked to respond. Spencer couldn't resist glancing at you, trying to gauge your reaction. For a moment, you sat frozen, then you burst into laughter.

"And what did you tell him?"

"What did I tell him?" he repeated in disbelief. "The truth, what else was I supposed to say?"

You realized how stupid your question was.

"Anyway, even if it were true... you know, that we... slept together... I wouldn't have mentioned it to him. I mean, don’t get me wrong” He quickly added the last part.“It's not that I’d be ashamed to admit it or... anything like that, I just would’ve preferred to sort it out with you first..."

You watched his growing embarrassment and... simply smiled.

"Sorry," you explained your reaction, letting out a slight chuckle. "I just thought... Well nevermind. Or…Fine, I was thinking about how strangely Emily was looking at me and how Derek probably wasn’t the only one who came to that conclusion. Look, we share a room with each other for the very first time and then suddenly we become so close... and then there's the fact that you asked to come with me..."

"That's because I wanted... I wanted to keep an eye on you after what happened yesterday."

"I understand that, and... I’m incredibly grateful to you for it. Really, Spence. But to others, it might look really suspicious."

He paused for a moment, thinking about your words. Ahead of you, the orphanage building came into view. Made of a mix of red and cream bricks, it resembled a small private school. Behind the fence, there was a small playground with a pink slide, its surface now covered in brown leaves.

"Wait," Reid asked with a slightly hoarse voice as you were about to get out of the car. "Does this mean that... you’d prefer we saw each other less?"

You were momentarily speechless.

"What? Of course not. Let them think what they want. Especially those two…lacherours, Morgan and Prentiss. It doesn’t change anything between us."

The air hit your face in waves, occasionally accompanied by a stray raindrop, but overall, the weather that day wasn’t terrible.

You made your way to the orphanage doors, trying to adopt serious, professional expressions fitting for your line of work. However, you couldn’t help but let those fleeting, secret smiles slip through. You felt a tight knot in your stomach loosen.

But back to business, no staff member at the orphanage wants to see two FBI agents on their doorstep at eight in the morning. Well, no one wants to see FBI agents on their doorstep. Regardless of the time. The woman who opened the door greeted you with a slight look of confusion. She was shorter than both of you, with thick blonde hair, wearing a fluffy lavender sweater. At first glance, she seemed friendly, but… incredibly downhearted.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, clearly forcing a smile.

You looked at Reid and took a small breath, holding back a sigh. It dawned on both of you that… she probably didn’t know yet that the heads found on the farm belonged to her two coworkers.

Everyone in the town knew about the discovery, that was beyond doubt. The fact that these two women hadn’t shown up for work in several days should have made her realize it. But sometimes, as people, we prefer to deceive ourselves right until the very end.

You hated informing people that their loved ones had died, especially in such a horrific way. However, you knew you had to do what was required of you, reaching into your pocket for your badge.

"We're from the FBI," you said after introducing yourselves, trying to keep a gentle expression to spare some nerves for the already frightened woman. "Do you work here? We’d like to have a word with all the staff and the director."

The woman took a deep, nervous breath.

“Yes, I work here. Florence Terry. I’m… I’m a psychologist.”

She opened the door wider, letting you both inside. You quickly glanced around, immediately noticing how well-kept the place was. In your line of work, you’d surprisingly often found yourself visiting orphanages, and many — even in larger cities — were in far worse condition. In the spacious hallway stood a staircase made of light wood, leading to the upper floors. On one of the steps, someone had placed a teddy bear so that it looked like it was gazing down.

“Do you think it’s afraid of heights?” you whispered to Reid, careful that the psychologist couldn’t hear.

“I think it’s an inanimate object and therefore incapable of having fears,” he whispered back, leaning slightly toward you.

“I think you’re —”

“We’re just having breakfast,” Florence interrupted, leading you into the dining room, where a long table stood at the center. At the sight of you both, the adults seated there — likely other caregivers — put their utensils aside. There weren’t that many kids here; they could almost pass for an unusually large family, if not for the fact that nearly all of them were around the same age. There were no little ones — you noticed mostly teenagers. One boy spilled his tea on the table and wiped it up with his sleeve, his black bangs brushing against the glasses perched on his narrow nose. You weren’t sure if it was his appearance or his mannerisms, but he immediately reminded you of Jeremy.

Reid immediately noticed you staring. Of course he did. You gave a slight smile, reassuring him that everything was fine.

Your arrival didn’t cause much of a stir; most of the children didn’t even look up. It probably would have been different if they knew you were from the FBI. The expression on the psychologist's face, however, alarmed the adults. They exchanged tense glances, but tried to maintain appearances in front of the children.

 The woman with the tight black ponytail stood up, introducing herself as the director.

“We can talk in my office,” she offered, shaking your hand.

“We’d like to speak with all the staff,” Reid informed her.

“Oh, of course. Then please, follow me…”

She led you to a small room on the ground floor, with the word "DIRECTOR" written on the door in colorful crayons. Three more people followed you, including the psychologist.

"Not everyone is here today," the director noted. "Some employees simply work different hours, while others..."

"That’s something we wanted to discuss," you said slowly.

The women and one man exchanged glances. They knew.

"Is… is this about Denise and Alexa?" Florence dared to ask.

To their horror, you had to confirm it. It was incredibly difficult to watch someone take in the news of not only the death of colleagues, but likely close friends as well. You lowered your gaze, staring at your shoes, giving them a moment before they were ready to continue with the questioning. Together with Reid, you had to ask them countless questions, probing to understand why these particular orphanage employees had become the killer’s victims. Or perhaps, whether they remembered any former resident who had long since left but whose behavior had raised suspicions. There was a strong likelihood that the unsub had come from there.

But before you began the questioning, the doorbell rang.

"That’s probably the volunteer. A teenager from town who comes by to help from time to time, sometimes she brings friends along," the director explained, her trembling hands pressed against her chest. "Their help has been especially valuable these past few days since… since Denise and Alexa… disappeared."

"I’ll let them in," you offered, glancing at Reid. It would be worth asking these teenagers a few questions as well.

He nodded, and you headed toward the entrance of the building. One girl pulled back quickly into the dining hall at the sight of you; she must have been eavesdropping. At first, you felt like smiling, but then sadness took over. These kids didn’t know yet about the death of their caretakers. How would the staff tell them? How would they react?

Worried by this thought, you opened the door and raised your eyebrows in surprise at the sight of… Charlotte.

Worried by this thought, you opened the door and raised your eyebrows in surprise at the sight of… Charlotte.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted you, equally surprised. She wore the same white jacket you’d seen her in yesterday, with a colorful scarf covering half her face, her pale cheeks flushed from the cold. You glanced toward the parking lot, where the sheriff's car was just pulling away beside yours. He must have dropped off his daughter before heading straight back to his duties. The town needed him more than ever. “Dad told me who those women were… the ones I found yesterday. Is that why you’re here?”

You confirmed, lips pressed tightly together. She stepped inside, unzipping her jacket.

"My partner is talking with the staff right now," you said, stopping with her by the stairs, not wanting the children in the dining hall to overhear. "I had no idea you volunteered here. That’s really, really kind of you. How long have you been doing this?"

She hesitated, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"Just a few months," she replied, but there was something incomplete in her tone. As if she wanted to say more but held back. You replayed your conversation from the day before in your mind, analyzing it moment by moment, trying to deduce what might be behind her behavior.

"My dad, surprisingly, isn’t too thrilled about it. I live on the other side of town, so he has to drive me here, and he also says I should be studying instead…” She lowered her voice to an embarrassed whisper. “…wandering around with the poor."

You were taken aback, even outraged, by the sheriff’s behavior. As a parent, he should be proud that his daughter took the initiative to get involved in charity work! Yet, as you looked at the girl, who was avoiding your gaze, you felt there was something she wasn’t telling you.

“I’m glad that despite his… forgive me for saying it, but rudeness, you’re still determined to help here,” you said, choosing your words carefully. Charlotte gave a shy smile at the compliment. “Out of curiosity, was it your idea? Or maybe your friends’, and you just got… drawn into it?”

The girl hesitated before finally sighing in surrender.

"My boyfriend grew up here," she admitted. "He told me a bit about this place, and… hearing his stories, I felt a need to help these kids. I started coming here, tutoring them, playing with them, teaching them to draw. You know, typical volunteer stuff."

Her answer didn’t surprise you much. Since she’d mentioned her boyfriend yesterday—describing him as someone who opposed rules and was the complete opposite of her father—you’d subconsciously known this topic would come up again. You didn’t hide the fact that the way she described him had raised concerns, making you question whether he was truly a good match for such a sensitive young girl.

"Does he know about this? Does he come help with you?"

"N-no. He doesn't have the best memories of this place... but he's really happy that I decided to do this."

You didn’t want to turn the conversation into an interrogation, but you felt you needed to ask these questions to get the full picture.

“How long ago did he leave the orphanage?”

Charlotte seemed increasingly tense during the conversation, glancing around as if expecting someone to come and rescue her. You couldn’t help but cross your arms over your chest, a gesture that may have seemed threatening or stern. Quickly realizing that you’d frightened her, you softened your posture, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

You were almost certain that this was a similar case. Charlotte was only sixteen, struggling with the death of her mother, a sensitive soul with an incredibly strict father—who also happened to be a cop. An older boyfriend might have given her a sense of escape from the heavy hand of her father’s authority, a feeling of freedom.

"Sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t mean to be so intrusive. Just a professional habit," you joked. She smiled faintly, still clearly on edge.

The way she spoke about him—the hint of fear, her earlier request for you not to mention him to her father, and her avoidance of answering how long ago he left the orphanage—made you start to seriously suspect that he was older than her. It wasn’t unusual for teenage girls to seek out older partners, and in most cases, it wasn’t a bad thing... but sometimes, those older partners turned out to be much older men. Manipulators.

Before you could say anything more, Reid appeared in the doorway of the office, casting a curious glance between you and the girl, whom he surely remembered from yesterday.

"Uh...Can I have a word with you?" he called you. Charlotte greeted him so quietly that he probably didn’t even hear it. "I think I’ve found something interesting."

"Oh, sure," you replied, remembering you shouldn’t leave him alone with the work for too long. Before leaving, you smiled at the sheriff’s daughter. The topic of her and her boyfriend was still nagging at you. "I’d like to talk to you later, okay? Either after we finish talking to the staff, or... you have my number, right?"

The girl nodded, murmuring a quick goodbye before disappearing into the dining hall, where a child squealed with delight at the sight of her.

"Did you find anything out?" you asked Reid. He had been watching the girl with obvious interest, which was piqued by your almost agitated stance. However, you didn’t have time to explain everything to him yet; you needed to get back to the main investigation.

You both returned to the office. The staff were standing in the same spots, looking as if they hadn’t moved an inch since you left.

"I asked a few questions that might help us figure out why the unsub chose three people who worked at this particular orphanage," he began. You noticed he was starting to speak faster, which meant a breakthrough had occurred, at least in his reasoning. You watched him, holding your breath. "And I found out that none of the people here have worked here for more than eight years. Just like the victims."

You furrowed your brow, not sure what that meant. The director quickly offered an explanation.

"Eight years ago, there was a huge scandal involving this orphanage," she explained, swallowing hard. "It came to light that the caretakers and the director at the time were abusing the children. Seriously abusing them. What’s worse, the case was reported multiple times, but no one in the town’s leadership did anything about it. The mayor stayed silent... They say he was afraid to do anything, so as not to lose the funding the orphanage was receiving. It wasn’t until eight years ago that the truth finally came out, the staff was convicted, and they were replaced by us."

"The town’s leadership didn’t react," you repeated her words, your mind working at full speed. "The earlier victims were part of the town’s leadership. This is the connection we’ve been looking for, Reid. The unsub must have been a victim of abuse right here in this orphanage."

"We need to tell the others," Reid decided. You both headed toward the exit, and then you remembered that you hadn’t even said goodbye to the orphanage staff.

"Thank you for your help, these are really useful pieces of information..." you said quickly as you passed them.

In the car, everything felt like it was spinning.

"Look, the unsub isn’t directly killing the people who abused him. If that were the case, the old staff would be the ones dying, not the current one. Remember, one of his victims was a teacher, completely unrelated to the orphanage. I think it’s not about punishing those people, but more about a symbolic revenge, one that doesn’t have to be logical. It doesn’t have to make sense to us, but it seems logical to him," Reid shared his thoughts as you drove toward the police station, where you expected to find the rest of your team. "He’s struggling with trauma. He’s been managing it somehow over the years, but now he’s unable to control the rage building up inside him. Decapitation is another symbol. It strips these people of the power they once had over him when he was a child or a teenager, and no one listened to his cries for help."

You straightened up in your seat, all the information starting to fall into place.

"Do you remember this morning when I mentioned that something came to my mind? That’s why I didn’t want to leave?" you asked. "At first, we were puzzled that some of the victims were treated with a different level of cruelty, specifically the women. Others, the ones from the city council, only had their heads cut off, with no other injuries. The unsub believes these innocent people are directly responsible for hurting him, he’s delusional. Sometimes he blames the city authorities for not reacting. The anger he feels toward them isn’t as intense as for the orphanage staff, which is why he harms them to a lesser extent. I think... he’s experiencing manic episodes, where all his feelings and paranoia are stronger. That’s when he kills with much greater cruelty."

“Mania?” Reid repeated, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “You mean borderline?” You nodded. For a moment, he thought over your words, then his eyes lit up. “That... that’s very possible. There have been cases where borderline murderers nearly changed their modus operandi. During a manic episode, when someone with borderline personality disorder experiences heightened energy, a sense of grandeur, and excessive impulsivity, they may act more aggressively, brutally, and ruthlessly. In a depressive episode, on the other hand, the person may act more coldly, with calculated precision, focusing on their goal without emotional outbursts, but carrying a heavy load of negative emotions. It all fits.”

You nodded eagerly, feeling that familiar rush that came whenever you were close to solving a case. Your heart raced, and warmth crept over your neck, like a fever. You and Reid burst into the station, practically supporting each other like two converging whirlwinds, nearly colliding with Hotch in the process. He was initially startled, then his eyes narrowed as he took in both your faces, his expression becoming more focused as you explained everything.

For a moment, he was silent.

“Let’s call Garcia,” he finally said. “Have her find all the men who lived in that orphanage eight years ago.”

You took a deep breath. This was really happening. You were so close to catching the killer...

After filling Garcia in on everything you knew, she immediately set to work compiling a list of men who might fit the profile. Meanwhile, you and Reid headed to the coffee and snack machine. You bought yourself a drink and a chocolate bar, feeling the rush of adrenaline start to subside.

Taking advantage of the brief moment of calm, you checked your phone for any missed calls.

“Neither my mother nor my father called,” you said, slipping the phone back into your pocket. Sharing personal details with anyone on the team still felt strange—especially when it came to your family. You wondered if it would ever feel normal. You noticed Spencer giving you a concerned look. “It’s a good thing,” you added quickly. “It means Jeremy’s condition is stable. Or maybe even improving. If it were bad, I’d have twenty missed calls from my mom—and one from my dad.”

You tried to turn that last line into a joke, but it came out sounding more bleak than funny.

“I hope everything will be okay with him,” Reid said, as his cup filled with coffee from the machine. He reached for it, his gaze fixed on you. “You remember that you can come to me if things get tough, right?”

“I try not to forget,” you admitted, hugging your arms around yourself. “But it’s not something I’m used to.”

For a moment, he looked at you silently, holding a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. His eyes seemed so gentle and understanding that it was hard for you to look away.

"Hey, lovers!"

Spencer jumped and cursed as coffee spilled onto his hand. Startled, you both turned to see Morgan grinning at you with a playful smile.

"Come over here for a sec."

You felt the urge to cover your face at the sight of the entire team, who had all heard what he'd called you.

Some unknown force held you back from nudging Emily when she shot you an amused sidelong glance. But soon, your focus shifted to Garcia's face on the laptop screen, ready to share her findings.

"Tell us what you found, babygirl."

"So, I managed to pull up quite a long list of former orphanage residents. Surprisingly long, for such a small town. Hotch helped narrow it down a bit… I found twelve men who would now be between twenty and forty years old. Five of them still live in town, but one of them caught my eye. Well, actually, his story did. He was placed in the orphanage at ten years old after his mother, struggling with bipolar disorder, attempted suicide."

You already knew it was him.

"His name is Logan Osborne, currently twenty-four years old. He has one minor offense on record for selling weed, oddly enough, in another town. Here’s where it gets interesting—though not in a good way. His mother actually survived but passed away less than two years ago, and he inherited her house and apparently moved back into it."

"Returning to the town where he was abused must have been the trigger that pushed him to murder," said Reid. 

"That would fit with my theory about bipolar personality disorder," you summarized. "Genetics alone doesn’t determine the disorder, but the fact is that in families with cases of this disorder, the likelihood of it appearing in other individuals is higher."

At one point, you had read a lot about it due to your own mother. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine. Reid looked at you intently, surely noticing the sudden shift in the tone of your voice. God, he must have been that observant?

"What's the address of his house?" Hotch asked.

You waited in readiness as Garcia provided the information. Once she did, you all gathered and headed out.

*

If you had found him there, everything would have been so simple. Almost too simple.

But there was no sign of Logan Osborne at the house, nor any indication that it was inhabited by a serial killer who decapitated his victims. Instead of immediately securing the building, Hotch ordered a stakeout. Inside, several agents, including Morgan and Prentiss, waited for the moment he might show up.

The rest of the team had no tasks assigned. You waited at the precinct, hoping something would happen. Meanwhile, Garcia sifted through thousands of bits of information about the man. Some were more important than others, but unfortunately, it only seemed to fuel a growing sense of dread among you all.

Since inheriting his mother’s house, he hadn’t paid taxes or most of his bills. He didn’t have a steady job, though he picked up odd jobs here and there. You checked with the local police, but most didn’t recognize his name. One officer who did recall him said he didn’t have the best relations with the authorities. With anyone, really.

"A little anarchist, huh?" Rossi muttered.

You felt the vibration of your phone in your pocket. Reaching for it, you saw a message from an unknown number.

hey it’s charlotte. you said we could meet and talk when i needed to please can we meet? i can’t handle what i saw on the farm yesterday and my dad isn’t helping with his behavior either

A few hours had already passed since the ambush was set, and still nothing had happened, though the darkness outside was settling in.

“Would it be alright if I disappear for a quarter?” you asked. “I promised something to the sheriff’s daughter, and it looks like I’ll need to meet with her.”

You didn’t receive any opposition. If anything happened, you would be immediately informed by phone. Reid offered to go with you, but Hotch needed him for something. You wouldn’t have minded his company—on the contrary, you would have been glad for it—but on the other hand, Charlotte might not feel too comfortable with it. After all, she had arranged to meet only with you.

As you drove toward her house, you spent a lot of time reflecting on your earlier conversation. It was the first time you really had the chance to think about it seriously. Her mysterious boyfriend, whom she had been so reluctant to talk about and with whom there was probably an age gap. And who also grew up in that orphanage...

You didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to you earlier. Maybe because of how well-behaved Charlotte seemed? Her big, bright eyes full of kindness. She herself seemed like the perfect teenager—sensitive and eager to help. Plus, she was the sheriff's daughter. For God's sake, you were about to go to the house of another cop.

You only realized how foolish you had been when, as soon as you stepped out of the car, something hit you in the back of the head.

*

You were woken up by nothing but the pain in the back of your head.

You opened your eyes, struggling to hold back a groan. Everything around you was blurry, as if you had a terrible vision problem and were forced to go somewhere without your glasses. The image, however, began to sharpen with each passing second, causing your heart to beat faster.

You were in…

It was hard to say what kind of place this was. Incredibly dark, the only weak light source was somewhere behind your back. It was possible it was a battery-powered lamp. You couldn’t confirm your suspicions, however… because you couldn’t move. You realized this with horror.

You were tied to the chair with rope. It wrapped tightly around your body, making it hard to breathe and pressing painfully on your ribs. Some of them might even be broken.

Wherever you were, the whole situation looked far from promising. Fragments of memories swirled around your head, randomly flying into your mind and helping you recall what had actually happened.

Of course, working for the FBI, you knew how to behave in the event of a kidnapping. The most important rule was: don’t panic. The problem was, it was damn hard to follow that. 

Inhale, exhale, something jabbed at your ribs. You couldn’t stop another soft groan from escaping.

As if drawn by the sound, a young man appeared in your line of sight.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” he asked, leaning over you as if you were an infant. After a second, he straightened up, the smile completely replaced by a serious expression. “I don’t like killing people when they’re asleep.”

Garcia had sent you his pictures, and even with the poor lighting, you were able to recognize your unsub in them.

"Logan Osborne?"

"I see you've done your homework."

"Where’s Charlotte?" you asked, a sudden rush of panic flooding through you. Maybe she was behind you, somewhere you couldn’t see? Was she involved in your abduction? After all, it was her who sent the message...

"You think I know where she is every moment of every day?" he sneered, suddenly angry. The room was small, but to your left, there was a rotting bench with metal objects arranged on it. You had to turn your head sharply to confirm your worst suspicion. Knives.

It was getting harder and harder not to panic.

"Knowing her, she's probably painting. My work on the farm really inspired her."

There was a sound. Like a drop falling from the ceiling.

"Where are we?" you asked.

"None of your business."

"Is this a bunker?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"What difference does it make if I find out? I'm tied up," you shrugged meaningfully, emphasizing your position. This caused a wave of pain to course through your chest.

For a moment, there was silence. The man was wandering around the surroundings, and all you could do was watch as he wiped each blade on his flannel shirt. The bile began to rise in your throat with every move he made. Pessimistic thoughts started flooding your mind, so tragic that you barely managed to hold back the tears.

First, everyone on your team thought you went to meet Charlotte. Meaning, it would likely be your prolonged absence that would eventually seem suspicious.

Second, you were in such a mysterious place that everything pointed to the fact that no one would find you, even by accident. Well, alive. 

You knew you couldn’t give up, even though there was little you could do in such a situation. The only real solution in such a hopeless scenario was… convincing him to let you go. A scenario that was damn unlikely, but since death was already threatening you, why not give it a try?

"Logan," you said, your voice trembling. In your mind, you replayed his profile, reminding yourself of facts that could give you an edge in your conversation with him. "Killing me won't help you. It's not me you want to hurt, it's those who hurt you in the orphanage. And those who didn’t react."

"Fine, it’s a bunker," he replied, as if he hadn’t even heard most of what you said. "Back in the Cold War, people built them by the dozen. They didn’t even inform the authorities. We found this one once with the kids from the orphanage, and we didn’t tell anyone, you know what that means, agent?"

You were painfully aware of it.

"Logan," you tried again. "My people know you killed those people. They'll find you the moment you step out into the open. Killing me won’t change anything..."

"Not killing me won’t either."

"They’ll look at you more favorably..."

"Favorably?" he exploded in a manic laugh, suddenly right in front of you. You flinched at the sight of his crazed face so close to yours. "They’ll look favorably on a seven-time murderer? Are you joking? Since I’m already screwed, I might as well cut off your head too..."

Fuck the fake calm, you were terrified.

You trembled, the pain in your ribs intensified, and the first tears began to fall from your eyes. You thought about how you’d never see Jeremy again. How he’d wake up and your death would probably be one of the first things he’d find out. What would he do then? God, your team would think you were an idiot. Of course, no one would say it out loud, but that’s what you were. You got yourself into this situation. Under these circumstances, they shouldn’t even particularly mourn, though they probably would, just a little.

Spencer would probably grieve a little more than the others. Those two nights in one room had brought you closer, you couldn’t deny that. Before, you had thought of him as just a regular coworker, the genius boy, sometimes amusing in his awkwardness. The way he supported you at the worst possible moment made you realize just how valuable he was.

Wherever you end up after death, you’ll miss him.

You didn’t know what motivated you to speak up again. Was it the thought of Jeremy and Spencer, or perhaps the sound of Logan sharpening some kind of weapon, probably an ax?

“Please," you pleaded simply, no longer knowing what else might reach him.

"Don’t cry. I hate it when girls cry. Charlotte does it all the time."

"Charlotte," you repeated. "Did she... know?"

You wanted to know if the girl you had tried so hard to help had played an active role in your murder.

"Of course not," he sneered. "She didn’t help me with anything, if that’s what you’re asking. But she told me about you, the nice FBI agent who snoops around a lot. She thought I was just some rebellious guy, attractive to a teenager like her. You know, with a tough cop dad. I won't lie, it turned me on, sleeping with the sheriff's daughter, knowing I was being hunted by him. And not just by him. Even by the damn FBI."

He seemed proud of himself. Maybe that’s what you should do? Appeal to his ego?

"You were really a tough case," you said, pretending to be impressed. "Seriously. Hours spent analyzing, we sat in silence, none of my colleagues knew what to say..."

“Spare me, I see what you're doing. You're trying to manipulate me... because... you feel superior." After saying those words, a sudden fury ignited in him. He knocked over the rotting table, the knives on it scattering to the floor. You took a breath, clenching your fists tightly in pure panic. "Just like they did. They thought they could hurt little kids, abuse them... because their position allowed it. After all, they were older, their word against a child's word. They say children have too vivid an imagination, have you ever heard that?!”

You closed your eyes, he was screaming it right in your face.

"No, Logan, that's not true... they were monsters, but I would have helped you if I... if I could."

"Then why didn't you?!"

"I... I... I..." Tears tore through you, and you got lost in your own words.

Logan opened his mouth again, but suddenly fell silent. His earlier screams were completely drowned out by a sound from above. You stiffened, recognizing it. Footsteps.

"They're here," you whispered, like a prayer. Tears began to flow down your cheeks.

The man, jaw clenched, stared at the entrance to the bunker. He suppressed a scream of rage, turned around, and grabbed his head, not knowing what to do. But suddenly, he bent down to pick something up from the floor, one of the knives he had knocked over when he flipped the table.

"W-what are you doing?" you asked. Something urged you to struggle, even though you knew it was pointless, the ropes were too tight. "What are you doing?!"

The footsteps mixed with voices, even a shout, and the room was soon flooded with a tsunami of daylight.

"Since they’ve got me anyway, I might as well slit your throat..."

You couldn’t stop the scream as he approached you with the knife. A firm grip on your shoulder, keeping you from squirming. The cold metal on your neck, grazing the thin skin.

And then a shot.

NOTE:

I HATE THE ENDING THE READER IS SO STUPID....!

but in my defence i got kind of lost in my plans and i had to change many things in the last moment

but i want to say that im very grateful for reading 2 previos parts and all the notes under<3 i didn't expect so many likes and comments

epilogue for this story will be posted tomorrow!

taglist: @nightfullofparadox @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[darkpuppysuit]

Hybrid!BTSxReader

Kim Seokjin: Black Jaguar, Min Yoongi: Black Panther, Kim Namjoon: Grey Timber Wolf, Jung Hoseok: Red Fox, Park Jimin: Golden Retriever, Kim Taehyung: Snow Tiger, Jeon Jungkook: Yukon Moose

Warnings⚠️: Cursing, Smoking, Mental scars come back to haunt Y/n, verbal abuse (towards the end).

Honestly this is mostly purely domestic things will ramp up here soon enough, I promise.

The wind blows me left and right as I push my way to the barn, rain is pelting me from all directions and I almost fall into the growing stream in front of the barn. Slipping through the crack of the big barn doors all I can see are the flickering candles that I had set out earlier in case the power went out, which it did the second I stood in front of my horse. She's stamping in her pen and jumping around obviously terrified by the raging storm or it could very well be the figures I saw run inside just mere minutes ago.

"Hey now, hush. You're okay Dovey." I do my best to soothe her, all is calm for a split second when her head darts to my right tracking something in the darkness and she starts to freak out again. Her head comes back with force colliding with mine and my ass meets the ground with a soft oof  slipping through my lips. "Mother fucker! Damn near broke my jaw doing that, knock it off!" I shout over the storm rubbing my lower jaw then lean back on one hand massaging the side of my head when there's a rustle in the hay bed directly in front of me.

A few moments pass by, then out of the corner of my eye, I spy a flash of orange sprint right into the other stall. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you. Are you injured?" Lightning flashes outside with thunder booming closely behind letting me know we're in the thick of the storm and everything suddenly becomes scarier as it rages on outside yet it's almost dead silent inside the barn.

I stand up from my spot on the ground and make my way to the open stall across from Dove. Cautiously, keeping my hands raised as I make eye contact with a pair of glowing eyes narrowed in on my position. It doesn't feel like a death stare but a curious one although the narrow slits in its eyes says otherwise. "Hi, my name is Y/n. I've taken care of hybrids before I-" Pausing I mentally smack myself.

They're not going to trust you if you spout random shit like that, are you fucking serious?

I shrug my shoulders with an awkward smile. "Hi little guy." I barely move another step forward before I hear a low growl coming from my left and as I turn to face the noise, I'm quickly tackled to the ground by a fox hybrid. "Shit! Oh, y-you're not little a-are you?" I say shyly as the full grown fox hybrid looks up from the crook of my neck his pupils slightly blown out and his lips pressed into a soft heart shape, he's smiling and I can't help but stare at the gorgeous hybrid sitting on top of me before I break the silence.

"Uh-uhm c-could you, get off me?" I ask softly and the hybrids eyes widen quickly scrambling off of me. As we stand he curls his tail around his waist protectively and his ears pressed against the top of his head. "I-I'm sorry you just- y-you smell so good, I couldn't help myself." He mutters out his apology and I hear hay rustling again with quite a few pairs of footsteps followed behind with a low rumbling sound coming closer and my body goes ramrod stiff and eyes widen alarmingly as I look over to the fox hybrid. "I- it's f-fine."

I can barely get my response out of my mouth before I feel a firm rumbling chest press against my back. "Please, for all that is good in this world, tell me there isn't a m-moving, vibrating oak tree b-behind me." I stutter as my body begins to shake increasingly worse as the breathing brick wall lets out a low growl.

"Now that's enough you're scaring the poor girl! Can't you see she's shaking like a leaf!" I can't bring myself to turn around at all but the growling does stop eventually and my body relaxes just a little, if it relaxes at all. "I'm sorry about him he's just- protective." I nod in response bringing an arm up to wrap around my middle the best I can as I slowly spin around and back away with my head hung low, I bump into yet another chest and I freeze up again but I feel something soft and wet wrap around my waist instead.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." The mystery man says through gritted teeth, fighting against his natural instincts to protect his pack mates from the human in front of him. I hear him but I don't look up, my own fight or flight instincts have kicked in and I stare at the ground like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

"Goddammit Namjoon, now look at what you've done, she's completely frozen!" Out of the corner of my eye I can see another pair of glowing eyes within the darkness, this one sounds blunt and to the point, oh boy I think to myself as I slowly try to ground myself by absently touching whoever the tail around my waist belongs to trying to move around it and get to the fabric underneath said tail so I can pick at it.

I close my eyes for a moment and only when the hybrid's chest meets my back do I realize I'm stroking it's tail, I quickly let go still a little dazed . "U-uhm, s-so, if you're going to s-stay here, I'm going to need names a-and... uhm- hybrid species so I can take care of you three? Or is there four of you?" I ask quizzically as the power turns back on and the barn is bathed in a warm golden light of the old lightbulbs that haven't been changed in years. 

As soon as my eyes adjust I open them again to not only find three or four but seven hybrids, yes seven male hybrids I count them at least three times as I look around me. There was a black panther hybrid with long black hair covering some of his handsome features leaning against a wall with his arms crossed just staring.

A golden retriever wrapped around my waist by his tail and his chest still rattling against my back staring anywhere but at me with the fox standing next to him awkwardly. What I'm pretty sure is a jaguar hybrid whispering to a damn giant grey wolf hybrid, he is a least a good foot or two taller than me. In fact now that I look around the room all of them are much bigger than me and it's daunting.

I'll have to look up at all of them just to speak to them. "Are we going to stand here while she stares at us or are we gonna get moving?" I look up and find kind eyes and soft features but the rest of him doesn't match his face.

He's tall with long dark curly hair, two lip piercings and a brow piercing, his arms are covered in tattoos too. He reminds me of an old greaser from the movies my grandparents used to watch. I look up and see he has two.... moose antlers? But they're small and form a halo around his head. "Don't be an ass Jungkook she's already scared enough as is." A hand meets my shoulder and it takes me a solid second to turn to the jaguar hybrid beside me. "Hi." I squeak mentally cursing my vocal cords.

This is so fucking awkward, why did I come out here? 

Oh, that's right I thought they were going to ransack the barn.                                                                                                                                            

It's their turn to stare, I would be flattered any other day that wasn't today but right now this is beginning to be too much for my racing heart and my nerves are shot. My mind is fogged and with the intense stare down from six hybrids my knees are close to buckling out from under me.

Just as the jaguar opens his mouth to speak Dove starts freaking out for a moment and I speed walk around the broad shouldered hybrid to get to her but she's calm as I walk towards her and when my eyes look up to see why I spot the tall fluffy, curly hair, tiger? Albino tiger, no his stripes are black not the usual odd blonde color, the ears on top of his head stand out like a sore thumb against his brown curls that lay just above his eye brows.

I steel myself and calmly walk over to him and Dove with a gentle yet shaky hand I pat her neck and the hybrid shuffles away a few steps. "She seems to like you." I manage to speak without my vocal cords betraying me this time, now that most of the other hybrids are within earshot and I can see most of them out of the corner of my eye I start to feel better about the whole situation.

"She likes it when you pat her neck, it's weird she doesn't like to be touched all that much by strangers but, by the looks of it she's comfortable around you, uhm." I stop for a second and look up at the snow tiger hybrid. "Taehyung." He holds his hand out for me to shake and I look between him and his outstretched hand a few times before he takes my hand into his and it completely engulfs my small hand within his grip.

Letting go I turn my attention back to Dove with pink cheeks and pat her neck again to show Taehyung how she likes to be shown affection and he copies my actions before a cough brings me out of my personal distraction and my body stiffens again.

"A-anyways, I don't mind you staying here but the barn needs a few repairs and the roof leaks quite a bit so with that being said, the house has plenty of space for you guys to spread out if you'd like and if not I can bring out some blankets and pillows for the night. If that's what you-"

Looking over my shoulder I can see the retriever and fox hybrid bouncing in place with small smiles on their faces and Taehyung wraps himself around my body in a warm hug while the others share a silent conversation. I lean into the hug and the warmth Taehyung's body gives off is comforting for a moment before the grey wolf lets out an exasperated sigh pinching the bridge of his nose and I quickly stand up straight.

"We'll go to the house with you if it's not too much trouble." A smile comes across my face for the first time in a while and I scrunch my nose a little in excitement to not have an empty house anymore. "Awesome! I made a little more food than I had planned on eating tonight so that works out perfectly! I'll make a little more since there's seven of you, okay?" I grab Dove's bridle and saddle off the far wall and saddle her up before giving her a kiss on top of her head, I hear a few whines off to the side but I don't comment on it.

"I'll be back, I'm sure we have a lot of work this morning." My previous anxiety about being around four apex predators, a moose, red fox, and a retriever melt away like the first frost of winter. I take a look outside from the big barn doors and smile, the rain has stopped and the sun is starting to rise.

As I open the door with the hybrids behind me and the fox and retriever flanking either side of me talking animatedly which has me laughing for the first time in a while. Looking around the yard I stop by the hen house to check on the little chicks and the mother hens, the fox looks at them curiously but once I determine they're okay I walk up the porch steps with the seven hybrids in tow.

"So this is the kitchen if you need anything and can't find it nine times out of ten it's gonna be in the walk in pantry just over there." I point to my right to the double doors against the far wall as we walk through the kitchen I stop in the foyer in front of the stairs. "Now these stairs are old and creak like nobody's business." I take a few steps up and they let out a shrill creak, a few of their ears flatten against their heads at the horrid sound. "So be careful when your walking around this house is old. My grandfather's grandfather built this house back when people could afford to build anywhere they wanted." I smile and walk further into the house.

"This is the parlor room er- the living room, uhm, there is a game system hooked up with a giant wall of movies-" I turn around and they have disbursed into different areas of the large room looking around at the pictures and paintings on the wall.

A warm feeling envelopes my heart and tears well up in my eyes as I watch all of them walking around being curious except for the wolf hybrid, who stands in the archway between the living room and foyer, staring me down like prey with his arm crossed, like he's waiting for me to throw them out or something.

If it wasn't for his overwhelming stature and broad build that reminds me so much of my asshole father maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't feel like he is about to murder me in my own home. "S-so uhm, the bedrooms are upstairs. You can pick any bedroom you want or if you want me to s-show you-" I flinch hard when the retriever runs up to me grabbing my hand to drag me back to the foyer and up the stairs. I know he saw me flinch but I'm thankful he didn't say anything. Soon they've all settled into their respective rooms, I've learned their names as we toured the upstairs so that part of my brain has now relaxed to an extent.

I stand at the stove in the kitchen making breakfast with Jimin glued to my side like a well, for lack of a better phrase, a lovesick puppy. "And then we pour a little bit into the pan like this." I'm cooking pancakes with eggs and sausage with a few other dishes in different cast iron skillets like my grandmother used to do when I was little and I would spend the night when my father had gotten bad before they realized just how shitty he could really be. "Once the top starts bubbling that's when you know it's ready to flip over, see?"

Jimin stares in awe as I flip the pancake over and the bottom is a crispy golden brown. Perfect. After breakfast was done I called out for the rest of the house to come and get it like a dinner bell. One by one they file in from either the living room or their bedrooms but the footsteps stop short in the archway, staring at the table.

"All of this? For us?" The hybrid I've come to know as Jin is actually a very soft individual despite his predator counterpart. "Of course, I'm lucky enough to of had all my cast irons washed and seasoned yesterday so I cooked a big breakfast for you guys. I'm sure you're all hungry."

I smile brightly at all of them as Jungkook is the last to arrive. "Holy shit look at all this food. Are you a line cook or something?" He looks at me with his big innocent looking eyes, I chuckle and set a few paper plates down with plastic silverware and napkins, standing off to the side. "Well, don't just stand there find a spot and dig in." I smile brightly, Jimin and Hoseok are the first to sprint to the table followed closely by Taehyung and Jungkook (who look like they could eat all of it by themselves if they wanted to) followed by Yoongi and Jin.

I walk over to the sink and take a sip of my energy drink, doing my best to stay awake while looking at the six hybrids sitting at my table, I can't help but smile softly at the scene in front of me. They're talking like a family who hasn't been without each other their entire lives, arguing with each other like siblings and feeding each other and stuffing their cheeks as if this would be their last meal, they had to taste everything.

Namjoon being the ever so silent yet calculating pack alpha stands in the doorway again before Jin is dragging him to sit at the opposite head of the table with the chair across from him, empty. "Aren't you going to join us?" Taehyung looks up from the spot next to the empty chair with his cheeks filled with food and I look at him my face burning with the intense eye contact. "Oh, uh, no I gotta get back outside and take a look at what damage the storm caused. But you guys are welcome to roam if you want and if you need me just holler and I'll be back in as soon as I can."

They share a look between them and I barely hear Jimin whisper the word 'holler' again phrased like a question to Hoseok before they shrug their shoulders and go back to eating. Taehyung breaks his gaze to focus on his plate shaking his head as I walk out into the small nook that houses my work gear. Just as I buckle the last spur onto my boot, I feel someone tapping my shoulder and I jump back with my fists raised.

"Hey whoa take it easy, didn't mean to startle you." I take a deep breath and clutch my chest whilst trying to calm my racing heart. "It's decided, you need a fucking bell." I deadpan, Yoongi's cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as I grab my hat off the hook and put it on my head tying my hair back in a low ponytail. "Uhm, I wanted to ask you if there's any, extra blankets-" I quickly cut him off because I've already made Dove wait this long to get back outside I can't make her wait much longer before she starts going stir crazy.

"Oh, yeah the linen closet is just under the stairs there should be a few quilts in there or something, I gotta get back outside, Doves been waiting for almost two hours and I gotta check on the cows." I pat Yoongi on the head and his cheeks burn brighter as my pinky gently brushes the base of his ear. "I'll be right outside if you need me okay?" I say as I walk through the front door and into the side yard to start picking up the tree limbs. 

A few hours of picking up limbs  and throwing them in the bed of the truck with a few other tasks checked off my mental list. I've left the biggest branch for last because, well, it's a big bitch but I'm sure I can handle it by myself for the most part.

"Hey let me help you." I jump a foot backwards from the truck hearing my fathers voice for a moment before I turn around to see Namjoon standing on the other side of the truck.

"Uhm, thanks but I got it handled." I speak awkwardly as I shift to the large branch only for Namjoon to move around the truck and swiftly come to my aide. "Let me help you, it's a big branch Y/n I don't think you can lift it by yourself. " In the back of my mind I know he's just trying to help but I've gone three years doing stuff like this alone. I growl at him and scowl, Namjoon is quick to return the growl ten fold as I stare at him in the eyes.

"I said, I fucking got it." I don't know why my first reaction is anger maybe it's because he reminds me so much of my father a little too much or my other issue being I like to challenge myself from time to time. I grab the branch by the broken end as the other hybrid's run out of the back door wanting to help or to diffuse the situation I don't know.

I pick it up and toss it into the truck before jumping onto Dove's back from behind her pulling the straps to the right. "I told you I didn't need help. Now, did you need anything else?" I ask looking down at the hybrid's below me from the horses back, they can smell the frustration and anger rolling off the pair of us having a staring competition.

I can't help but feel a little pissed but also a little scared as Namjoon turns and pushes pass the others back into the house growling and throwing his hands around in anger and frustration.

I take a deep breath once he's finally inside, my hard shell cracking down around me. "I know you guys mean well but I got this, I'm sure you've been through enough and need to rest. We can all go out and get you some less holy clothes, maybe a few pairs of shoes and whatever else y'all want." My southern drawl slips out to the men around me and there is a long pause accompanied by a few unblinking stares between us before Dove starts stamping her hooves into the mud.

"Right, we can do all that tomorrow, I'll take the afternoon off. Uhm, can any of you drive a truck? I usually pull her along side but that's too slow and I would like to get this shit done so I can cook dinner for everyone later." I ask awkwardly leaning over to pat Dove's neck to both calm her and distract myself from the lingering stares on me.

Jin slowly raises his hand and I smile at him. "Could you drive it through the gate? I'll show you were the burn pile is out in the field. Maybe after it dries up enough we can light a fire? There's enough wood here to have it burn for a day or two." I shrug my shoulders after I kick the side of the truck and both Jimin and Hoseok walk over to Dove and I, looking down and to my right at Hoseok. "Do you think Jimin and I can ride out there with you?" I look between him and Jimin curiously, mentally trying to figure out how to do this.

"You guys want to ride in the bed of the truck or with me?" I can't help but giggle at their smiling faces and swishing tails. Jimin looks nervous as he brushes his fingers through his golden blonde tail. "I don't know how to ride a horse though." He says sheepishly as he looks intently at the ground. "That's okay Jimin honey, you can sit in front and we can make Hoseok take the ass end." Jimin's smile returns to his plush lips while Hoseok looks slightly offended or hurt by my remark but his soft smile is quick to return to his handsome face as I take Jimin's hand and tell him to put his foot in the stirrup and climb up as I pull him in front of me only he's facing the wrong way and I can't help but laugh softly. "Jimin sweety, you need to turn around." I adjust my hat on my head as his perfect cheeks are graced with a cute shade of pink.

"O-oh, s-sorry." I tell him it's okay and lean back so he can swing his feet over to the correct sides of the saddle and I look over to Hoseok if he needs any help. "Come on Hobi! It's a whole other world up here!" Jimin shouts as Dove moves back and forth a little spooked by the sudden volume change, Hoseok quickly grabs my outstretched hand and hauls himself up to sit behind me and I blush as he snakes his long arms around my middle and lays his head on my back rubbing his cheek against the nape of my neck, absently scenting.

I grab the straps to the bridle tightly. "Okay Dovey, let's get this shit done." I urge her to move forward slowly but she has other ideas and jolts forward as if this is the happiest she's ever been. I grab onto the back of Hoseok's tattered shirt when she sprints forward, him and Jimin let out a scream and with my other hand I yank the bridle back and she stops only to walk a little slower. The others laugh as they get into the truck and Jin drives it through the gate except Yoongi he walks back to the house either to check on Namjoon or take a nap, who knows.

Once all of the branches are thrown on the ever growing burn pile I wipe the sweat from my forehead and set my hands on my hips standing next to the truck. "Thanks for the help guys, it would've taken me for-fucking-ever to get this done without you." I huff wiping off more sweat when Jimin runs over to me with big eyes.

"Y/n-ie! When do you think we could light that fire?" His words pour out of his mouth quickly like a running faucet, I lay my hands on his shoulders and he calms down just a little. "We have to wait until the wood isn't soaking wet Jimin-ie." The small nickname that falls from my lips causes his energy to spike, giving him a soft smile before ruffling his hair, returning my hands to my jean pockets. "The next few days are going to be warm and sunny so, I'll probably be out here more often than not." Jimin nods and goes back to playing with Hoseok jumping around happily as he relays the information I just told him.

Digging into my jacket pocket, I pull out my pack of cigarettes and light one as I watch Taehyung join in on the fun. Taking a drag Jungkook walks over to me, leaning his hip against the truck, "Care if I steal one?" I turn to face him cocking an eyebrow. He points to the cigarette hanging from my mouth.

"They're menthol are you sure?" I ask as I open the pack again he just shakes his head so I hand one to him. He reaches for the lighter before I hold it out of reach. "Nah-ah, I've had too many lighters go missing. I'll light it."

Jungkook furrows his brows and looks at me like I'm half crazy then he leans forward waiting. I hold the lighter in front of his face and he lights it but he doesn't move away, instead he looks me in the eyes and smirks when my cheeks grow hotter than they already were.

We're so close one move and I'll hit my head on his fucking antlers. "You know anyone of us, even Jimin, could over power you at any given minute, right?" He takes another drag of his cigarette before leaning back against the truck finally giving me breathing room.

"I know that, I'm used to dealing with dog and cat hybrid's so a good chunk of all of this is new to me. I'm used to them staying either a few hours and then moving on or leaving after a night of rest. Which you guys should be doin' anyways." I nudge him in his side with a smile taking the last drag of my cigarette flicking it onto the wet pile across from me. "We would've gotten some rest had you not challenged the alpha wolf earlier."

I turn my head away from him and look off to my right, Dove has joined the hybrids and I see Taehyung take off running after her like they're playing a game of tag. "I'm sorry about that. It's just- I- he-" I shake my head and rub the back of my neck looking back at him when Hoseok almost falls to the ground stifling the laugh caught in my throat. "You don't have to justify your actions Y/n. He needs to be knocked down a peg or two anyways. Two alpha's of different species going at it is always fun to watch." Jungkook flicks his own cigarette butt into the pile before turning towards me with his hands slipping into his back pockets.

"Two alph- no, ugh, he wanted to help me with the big branch but then he said he didn't think I could lift it, I don't know why those words triggered me the way they did, he was just trying to help and I bit his fucking head off." I take a deep breath, rubbing my face in frustration calling Dove over. "I'm quick to anger and I'm sorry if any of you have to see it, much less deal with it yourselves. I've been doing my best to fix my face I swear."

I tap my cheeks as the horse trots up to meet me and I glance at him to try and gage his reaction but he remains stoic and unaffected by my words like he's trying to process how not to piss me off or something. He does let a chuckle come through so, that makes me feel a little better. "Y/n-ie! Can I ride with you this time?" I turn my head to see Taehyung all up in my bubble with his chin on my shoulder and his white striped tail swaying back and forth excitedly hoping I'll say yes.

"Of course you can! Move for a second I don't wanna kick ya in the face." He moves to the opposite side of the horse and I swing my leg over and sit on the saddle with my thighs squished against her sides and I look over at Taehyung. "Think you could do that by yourself?" He looks at me and then the saddle and back to me, I raise a brow at him like dude, come on you got long legs surely you don't need help up.

I roll my eyes and give him a hand and he sets his foot into the stirrup before hauling himself onto the back of the horse. "Good boy." The words leave my lips and I don't even notice the look him and Jungkook share once those words fall from my mouth because Jimin quickly sits in front of me distracting me from looking at the pair and I can't help but smile at his eagerness.

I hold onto the bridle straps and wrap my arms around Jimin this time and rest my chest against his back to make a little more room for Taehyung. Once everyone is settled and a pouting Hoseok is put into the bed of the truck with Jungkook who keeps smiling at the two blushing hybrids sitting horseback holding onto me tightly, myself oblivious to the people around me as always.

I get into the house and take my boots and coat off, everyone is toeing their shoes off next to mine, and awkwardly standing in the crowded nook waiting. I look around at the four of them around me when Jungkook pushes through from the back making his way to sit in the living room with Taehyung who attaches himself to the hem of his shirt, closely following the moose hybrid.

I walk to the kitchen with Jimin and Jin in tow. "What do you guys want for dinner?" I open the large pantry that also holds a big freezer to the left and endless shelves of snacks and treats as well as dry ingredients to the right. "I'm not picky so I don't care what you make, I'll eat it." Jungkook yells from the living room Taehyung silently nodding along, reminding me just how good hybrid hearing really is.

"Okay then I'll make some chicken enchiladas for you six and for Namjoon as an apology for ripping him a new asshole earlier..." I think for a moment clicking my tongue as I sift through the shelves then walk over to the large freezer.

I open it up and set a hand on my hip tonguing the inside of my cheek lost in thought then I find what I was looking for. "Ah-hah! Found it!" I practically jump into the freezer, my feet coming off the ground a few inches. Standing back on my feet, I pull out a T-bone steak and throw it on top of the freezer once it's closed and move to look for the rest of the ingredients for enchiladas and a glass pan to cook it in. 

Pulling the pan out of the oven and setting it on the potholders on the table I waddle back to the stove top to finish the steak and little fixings I put together for Namjoon. I make his plate and set it in the microwave above the stove incase he doesn't come down right away.

"Dinner is re-" I turn around to find my table already filled with bodies and I raise my hands level with my shoulders. "Okay, nevermind. Where's Namjoon?" I peek into the fridge and grab the few bottles of salsa and hot sauce that I have along with a small tub of sour cream and set it all on the table. Jungkook and Taehyung already putting their plates together. "Make sure you save some for me you heathens!"

I shout playfully pointing my finger at the two hybrids across the table as I walk away from the kitchen to find the wolf hybrid. "Hey! Dinner's ready! I know you can hear me mister!" I shout from the bottom of the stairs after I couldn't find him in the living room. I feel like a mother who has to drag her teenage son from his room just to eat with everyone for a change.

It might have only been a few hours but having people to take care of instead of just the farm animals is a feeling I don't want to lose. "I'll go get him Y/n, you go eat." Jin rubs my shoulder with a small smile that I return. "Thanks Jin, I owe you one." He rubs my back in soothing circles then heads upstairs and I leave the staircase back to the kitchen.

A few moments later I hear the grumbling voices of both Namjoon and Jin arguing while walking down the stairs. "She made me something different?" His tone of voice was softer as he rounded the corner to see his seat was empty and there was no plate in sight. Mid bite I quickly stand up from my chair knocking it over as I rush to the microwave.

"Shit sorry! I left it in here so it would stay hot." I take his still very hot plate out of the microwave and slamming it shut making everyone wince at the loud noise. Jin takes his place by Jimin and starts eating his own food when his eyes light up. "Oh my god this is amazing Y/n! Where did you learn to cook?" He asks as he shoves another much bigger bite into his mouth and I set Namjoon's plate in front of his respective seat. "My grandma taught me how to cook and my mother taught me how to bake when I was little."

I look at the floor as Namjoon takes his seat and I can't help but tear up a little. They notice a change in my scent instead of the normal leather and cedar wood with a hint of coconut and vanilla, Jin was quick to do damage control. "I'm sorry if it's a touchy subject, I'll be more careful wi-" I quickly look up and cut him off, I seem to have a habit of that. I shake my head a little. "No it's okay! My uh, my mom died when I was... when I was like ten and I only had one friend growing up so..."

I trail off and look to Namjoon who has yet to touch his food, he's just sitting there shuffling in his seat and I set a hand on his shoulder. "Namjoon? You okay?" He looks up at me and the faintest pink blush creeps across his cheeks. "Y-yeah, I'm fine." His short reply is enough for me to nudge him with my hip. "Then eat honey, I wanted to apologize to you for my uh- for being pissed at you earlier. I didn't mean to I just, get upset when someone tells me I can't do something or they hint at me not being able to do something. That's all."

I give him a half smile as he cuts into his steak and I wait for him to take the bite, subtly his eyes shine for a second before he swallows and turns to me opening his mouth to speak. "It's good th-thank you." I smile at him and clasp my hands together and my smile somehow gets bigger when out of the blue I hug him from the side. His tail makes a soft thumping sound against the back of his chair but he quickly stops it as though the sudden action had bitten him.

"I'm so happy you like it Joon!" I release him and speed waddle my way back to my seat to finish my food. The is table finally filled and I smile as I take a bite looking across the way as the others return to the plates in front of them and resume their conversations.

Jin is staring at Namjoon with a smile on his face, looking at the hybrid next to him spacing out looking at his plate frozen in place, after a moment he looks up at me and his cheeks burn a rosy red before he quickly goes back to eating.

After everyone is finished I take the plates and glass pan off the table walking to the sink to start cleaning them as most of the hybrid's have moved into the living room. Yoongi stands over my shoulder watching me wash the dishes and put them in the drying rack. "May I help you?" I ask curiously smiling as I half turn towards the panther hybrid behind me with a plate in hand. "I can- Do you want any help?"

He corrects himself as he remembers the conversation from earlier. "Oh, well, you don't have to help if you don't want to, it's okay." I shrug my shoulders while he shakes his head moving to the side grabbing a towel before drying the few dishes stacked to his right. "It's the least I can do after you've cooked for us twice now and I don't think any of the others are going to help." I look at him for a second before leaning back to look into the living room.

Taehyung and Jungkook have started a video game to play together and Jin is sitting on the couch behind the two on the floor watching while Hoseok and Jimin are playing around with a tennis ball they found somewhere (where they found it I have no clue) and Namjoon is sitting on the recliner reading a book from the nearby shelf with his long legs crossed over each other.

"Well I guess one helper is better than none." He nods and we talk for a little bit before a comfortable silence takes over the kitchen, it's nice to have company but not have the need or want to fill the soundless void.

With the dishes dried and put in the correct places (Yoongi needed help at least four times before he memorized the whole kitchen) I dry my hands off and set the towel on the oven handle before moving to the stairs. "I'm going to take a shower if you need any-" Jungkook interrupts by screaming. "Take that you cheating mother fucker!" In triumph he throws his hands in the air, Taehyung covering his eyes chuckling out of frustration his strategy didn't work anymore and I just giggle.

"I'm going to take a shower if you need anything, ask Yoongi." I point behind me as he walks forward trying to catch me before I sprint up the stairs laughing. He turns to face the room staring at him. "Don't ask me for a fucking thing, I barely got the kitchen down."

Stepping out of the shower I take a long look in the mirror. "Seven of them, that's a lot to handle. They're probably going to leave in the morning anyways so what's the point in putting them in better clothes?" I ask myself as I get dressed in an oversized band tee and long basketball shorts before the mirror talks back.

"Look at you, once a whore always a whore."

I recognize that voice, it's the same voice that would yell at me for something as little as spilling his beer when I brought it to him. "That's right babygirl, it's daddy." It whispers nastily.

I whip around and the only person I see in the mirror is myself, shaking my head I turn to walk back into my room when I see him through the mirror next to my bed and I freeze in front of it. "I'm sure you'll be a good fuck for those beasts, huh?" His reflection stares back with a shit eating grin, I grit my teeth and ball my hands into fists. "You're not real, I shot you four fucking times."

My mind flashes back to that night shivering at the image of his skull and brain matter littering the basement walls. "Oh sweetheart, you know that won't stop me from seeping into your subconscious. You know that better than anyone. Trauma like yours runs deeper than what people can see."

The venom drips from his mouth as he speaks it's acidic and my hands begin to hurt with how hard I'm pressing my nails into my palms. "Just go away dickwad, I don't need this shit." I wave him off but just when I think this illusion of my father couldn't get any more real he grabs my jaw, digging his fingers into my round cheeks. "You listen here cocksheath I don't need the attitude so drop it."

He growls and I nod out of habit, this was the first time he had actually touched me which meant he can hurt me if he wanted to, which I'm sure he does. "Sorry darlin' old habits die hard, ya know?" He chuckles darkly letting me go and I fall to my knees with a thud tears threatening to fall from my already puffy eyes.

"Such a good girl for daddy. Now get those filthy creatures out of here!" He shouts words only I can hear and my blood begins to boil. "They're not creatures, they're just as much of a human as I am." I whisper knowing if I shout back at him someone will come and wonder who I'm screaming at when they find me alone.

"No they're not! They belong in a zoo or a circus, they're freaks!" I cover my ears and rock back and forth while humming trying to block him out. "Pay attention to me bitch!" My body is shaking violently as he keeps shouting at me the world be damned at this point.

I stand up on my bare feet and look him in the eyes and my fist goes flying before I have a second to think about it, the mirror shatters into a million pieces and I fall knees first onto the shards below me, my face relaxed and void of all emotion.

I vaguely hear numerous pairs of feet running upstairs as I stare at the blood slowly covering the floor underneath me, I stare blankly at the floor when my bedroom door flies open, I don't dare move, still lost in my own head space. "Y/n! Fuck." Jungkook and Yoongi are the first to burst through the door followed closely by the others.

"Don't move that's a lot of shards on the floor." Yoongi is mindful of the broken mirror when he walks slowly towards my kneeling figure in the dimly lit room as the others stand nervously inside by the door.

"Y/n?" He waves his hand in front of my face and I flinch backwards and my back hits the bed, bringing my knees up to my chest I can't catch my breath and start breathing rapidly.

Bringing my hands up to my face to deflect the blow I'm sure was about to meet my body. "Please, stop. I-I'll be good I swear! I won't do it again." Of course this is when I can't tell illusion from reality, I try to make myself as small as I can so maybe the figure in front of me won't hurt me.

"Y/n, it's Yoongi. You're alright, we won't hurt you." He raises his hand to pull my arms from my face to reveal my red puffy eyes and wet cheeks, my eyes full of pain. "Take a deep breath for me okay? Deep breath kitten come on."

I keep my eyes trained on my knees unwilling to meet their gaze. My breathing slowly regulates and I eventually come back to reality, slowly taking in the environment around me and the seven hybrid's standing around my bedroom door with worried faces.

Jimin is crying against Taehyung's chest while silent tears fall from his eyes, Hoseok is hiding behind Namjoon with his tail tucked between his legs while the wolf hybrid stands tall resisting the urge to pick me up, put me into bed and scent the hell out of me until he decides it's enough.

Jin is shaking and out of breath from running up the stairs quicker than he ever has before while Jungkook is standing next to Yoongi who's kneeling in front of me his expression the calmest out of them but he's anything but calm his primal need to scent and soothe almost clouds his judgment when he takes my hand that sucker punched the mirror into his own.

"Sweetheart, where do you keep the first aid kit? Can you tell me?" His voice is soft and quiet I almost didn't hear him. Looking at him nodding towards my bathroom, he tears his eyes away from me to tell one of them to go grab it then quickly turns his attention back to my shaking form. 

"Let's move you to the bed so we can get you cleaned up." I shake my head determined to stay on the floor, to stay as small as I possibly can. Namjoon grunts and my head snaps to him waiting by the door, meeting his eyes for all but a moment before Hoseok comes back with the first aid kit from the bathroom and hands it off to the panther hybrid in front of me.

He sets a hand on my shoulder trying to look me in the eyes and failing when I bring my head into my lap. "I'm going to clean the blood off your hand and knees, okay?" I shake my head and he takes my bloody hand in his, without missing a single step he tilts his head to look at the hybrids at the door. "Could one of you find the broom and clean this up so she doesn't cut her foot when I put her in bed?"

I let out a hiss of pain when the cotton bud soaked in alcohol meets a particularly deep cut on my knuckles. "N-no, I'll c-clean it, please don't feel the need to clean up my mess. I hate that you have to see me so weak, I'm not worth fretting over like this." I take my hand back tears falling from my eyes before Yoongi is finished cleaning it but he quickly takes it back with a tsk and I raise my head.

"That's bullshit and you know it. Nobody with a heart like yours could be worthless." He scowls at me not out of anger but out of concern for my well being.

I watch him clean and bandage the wounds on my body silently and I've calmed down quite a bit surprisingly enough. "Can you stand?" Jungkook makes his presence known, I look down and try to push my big ass off of the floor but my legs quickly turn into mush and I fall back down to the floor, a piece of glass cuts into my already bandaged hand and starts to bleed.

"I swear you're more accident prone than Namjoon." Jungkook chuckles trying his best to make light of the current situation. He nudges past Yoongi to me and picks me up bridal style then turns to set me on the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?" He looks down at me with his sweet chocolate brown eyes and I give him a small smile shaking my head no.

"Give me your hand, clumsy woman. I should've known you'd be accident prone when your chair fell over standing up from the kitchen table earlier." Yoongi rolls his eyes as he patches my hand yet again and my smile grows tenfold. "I know, I'm sorry you guys had to see me like this and take care of me. Haven't even been here a day." I apologize to the room as Yoongi kisses my wrist before putting it by my side again.

"Don't apologize kit. You have nothing to be sorry for and don't argue with me." His eyes flash yellow with narrow slits in the middle before they quickly go back to normal and I nod in return my eyes slowly closing before shooting open again looking over at Jimin and he walks over with his tail wrapped around his waist.

"I'm sorry I made you cry Jiminie." I sniffle before he comes closer to my bed, careful to avoid the broken mirror and Yoongi who's bent over to sweep up the shards with the broom Taehyung finally brought up. "I was so scared when I saw the blood, I thought you- I- I thought..." Tears fill his eyes again and I caress his face wiping away the stray tear that fell onto his pink cheek.

He moves to crawl into bed behind me on instinct before he stops looking at me for permission and I give him a nod before he moves under the blankets behind me. He cuddles against my back and rubs his nose against the nape of my neck to soothe his own nerves as he wraps his arm around my stomach and under my head.

The others slowly make their way out of the room leaving Jimin, Yoongi and myself alone. Yoongi sits at the edge of the bed gently kneading my calf while Jimin snores softly tightening his grip and rubbing his cheek against my neck every so often so I knew he was still here.

[atimeofyourlife]

Go ahead, rip my heart out

Part 1 of my make it worse-before it gets better fic that I teased here

rated: t | wc: 1350 After 8x06, Buck crashes on Eddie's couch for the night. Eddie finds him the next morning presenting with cardiac symptoms on his couch.

"We must be getting old if just a few beers are leaving you looking like that." Eddie joked as he came into the living room to see Buck sat hunched over on the couch. He knew that it was more likely the events of the previous evening that had lead him to bringing over a six pack and then sleeping on Eddie's couch. He got concerned when Buck didn't respond, and he seemed to be struggling for breath, and not in a way that indicated that he'd been crying.

"Buck, what's wrong? Are you okay?" He asked, hurrying around the couch to kneel in front of Buck.

"Hurts." Buck gasped out, clutching at his chest.

"When did this start?" Eddie pulled his phone out of his picked, just in case he needed to call help.

"Few minutes." Buck replied, and Eddie winced at how short of breath he was.

"Okay, I'm just going to check your pulse." Eddie pressed his fingers to Buck's pulse point, and frowned. "There's some arrhythmia. I'm calling 911."

read more below the cut or on a03

"911, what's your emergency?" Eddie let out an involuntary sigh of relief when he didn't recognize the voice. He didn't know how he would explain it to anyone they knew.

"This is off duty firefighter Eddie Diaz. I need an RA unit to 4995 South Bedford Street. Patient is a thirty three year old male presenting with angina, shortness of breath, and arrhythmia. He has some history of heart problems after being struck by lightning two years ago, but has had a clean bill of cardiac health for around eighteen months. He also has a history of blood clots, about five years ago, caused by hardware in his leg from an injury."

"Okay, and what is the patient's name?"

"Evan Buckley. He's also a firefighter. He's my heavy rescue partner at the 118." He stopped for a moment as Buck slumped forward. "He's just fainted."

"Did he hit his head or fall into a position where he is potentially unsafe?"

"No. He was sitting on the couch and slumped forward. I caught him before he went down."

"Can you reposition him so he is lying down on the couch?

"Yeah. Give me a minute." He pushed on Buck's shoulders to get him to lie back, then pulled his legs round so he was flat on the couch. "Done."

"Okay. And do you know if he has taken anything in the last twenty four hours?"

"He's not currently on any prescription medication, and he doesn't use anything recreationally, because of the job. He was drinking last night, but we only split a six pack of beer."

"Can you unlock a door, the ambulance is just a few minutes out."

"Yeah." Eddie got up and practically ran to the front door, glancing back at the couch constantly. He unlocked the door and was back beside Buck in seconds. "The front door is unlocked, and opens right into the lounge."

Eddie kept an eye on Buck, reassuring him gently when he regained consciousness. A few minutes later, the door opened. "LAFD."

"Over here." He called back.

"We got him, Diaz." One of the paramedics said, kneeling next to him with a lifepak.

Eddie just nodded, and stood up. He realized it was the 133 there, so he was pretty familiar with most of the crew.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. He came over with some beers last night and crashed on the couch. This morning when I woke up I found him on the couch hunched over. Shortness of breath, angina, arrhythmia. It came out of nowhere." He explained, watching as the paramedics hooked Buck up to the lifepak. He hadn't felt this scared for his best friend since the lightning strike.

"His blood pressure is pretty low too." One of the paramedics chimed in. "We need to take him in. His heart doesn't seem healthy right now."

He couldn't help feeling a little useless while they got Buck ready and loaded onto the gurney. He felt like that was his job, that he should be taking care of Buck. He made sure that he had both his and Buck's phones as well as his keys before following them out to the ambulance.

"M-Mad's-" Buck mumbled, reaching out towards Eddie.

"I'll call Maddie, I'll let her know." Eddie reassured him. "I'll ask her to meet us at the hospital. Don't worry about it."

--

The ride to the hospital was uncomfortable, but not the worst. He held Buck's hand tight and just let the paramedics work.

At the hospital, the paramedics took the lead to inform the medical team on what was happening, but Eddie cut in to add information about the lightning strike, history of blood clots, and Buck's allergies.

"Diaz." Captain Mehta called out as Eddie made to follow the team into the hospital. "Do you want me to inform Captain Nash?"

"No. I'll call him. I just need to call Buck's sister first." Eddie replied, before making his way inside. Calling Maddie to tell her that Buck was in the hospital again was never something he wanted to do.

Eddie tucked himself in the corner of the waiting area, knowing there were going to be a lot of tests they had to run for Buck to find out what was going on with his heart. He tried to get his thoughts in order before dialing Maddie's number.

"Hey, Eddie. What's up?" Maddie sounded cheerful, and he hated to break that for her.

"I, uh. I had to call an ambulance for Buck this morning. We're at First Presbyterian." He said, ripping off the painful part first.

"Why? What happened? Is Buck okay?" She sounded shocked.

"It's his heart. I don't know what's going on yet, we've only just got here." He explained. "He crashed at mine last night. When I woke up he was having cardiac symptoms. Angina, shortness of breath, arrhythmia. He fainted on my couch while I was on the phone to dispatch, and when the paramedics were there he had low blood pressure."

"Oh, my god." Maddie gasped. "I'm on my way. Should we call Tom-"

"No." Eddie said definitively. Knowing that having Tommy there could make it worse. "I. I think we should leave telling anyone else until we know more about what's going on."

"Okay. I'll be there soon. Thanks for letting me know, Eddie."

--

Eddie stayed sat in the corner, looking up every time someone moved, looking for Maddie, for Buck. For a nurse or doctor coming to inform him what was going on.

Maddie came hurrying in around thirty minutes after he'd called her. "Any updates?"

"Not yet." He replied. He wrapped an arm around Maddie for a brief hug. "I guess we just have to wait."

"I hate this. He-he's always in a hospital bed."

"I know. I hate it too." They fell into a silence as they waited, neither sure on how to fill it.

"Family of Evan Buckley?" Someone called after a while.

"That's us." Eddie said, both he and Maddie made their way over.

"I'm his sister, this is his best friend and one of his medical proxies." Maddie introduced.

"We've ruled out a heart attack, and it doesn't seem to be a delayed response to the lightning strike."

"Oh, thank god." Maddie murmured.

"But what was it?" Eddie asked.

"We have a few ideas, some more likely than others. There has been some recent stress on the heart, so I have to ask has he been through any recent major stressors? Physical or emotional."

"He's a firefighter and dislocated his shoulder on the job a few weeks ago. But other than that-" Maddie explained.

"His boyfriend broke up with him last night. It came out of nowhere." Eddie cut in.

"Tommy did what?" Maddie seemed shocked.

"He broke up with Buck. Some bullshit about being his first not his last."

"That does tie in with what our top theory is right now." The doctor replied. "We believe it's likely to be takotsubo cardiomyopathy. That's also known as-"

"Broken heart syndrome." Maddie finished, barely holding back tears.

[unicyclehippo]

Bishova: alcohol

just a little shorty im writing instead of sleeping bc i don’t! like! storms! i don’t think I’ve quite got yelena’s vibe but it was fun to write. set in the same stories as the others

//

(21:48) jpg. attachment

(21:48) jpg. attachment

(21:49) jpg. attachment

when her phone buzzed fourteen times in one minute, that was when yelena knew she had made a mistake.

‘kate bishop, you are pushing my patience,’ she said to no one and the empty safe house.

snatching up the phone, she considered crushing it—they could part ways like that, easy, and she would not ever have to think about clint barton or kate bishop again—but it was the only burner phone she had and kate bishop was not the only message she was waiting for. plus, she liked the dog.

the first eight messages were all photos of said dog. it had snowed since they arrived at the barton farm and lucky wore booties on his paws. from the photos of his bizarre walk and tail tucked between his legs, yelena guessed the pizza dog didn’t like them.

the other six messages were not photos and they were not short. yelena groaned at the first wall of text but she had four hours until extraction and nothing else to provide diversion.

‘you are the lucky one, kate bishop,’ yelena told her, which would have sounded menacing if the girl were here but, since she was not, was just kind of sad.

(21:50) hey sorry about sending a dozen photos, i didnt really think about it first because lucky was just so cute but you feel like the kind of person who would get irritated by that sort of thing so i’ll keep it to a totally normal & very chill number of messages from now on! promise!!!! anyway i just wanted to say merry christmas, i don’t know if you celebrate because you said an awful lot about american christmas like it wasn’t super familiar and idk if russian (?) christmas is different but either way, i hope you have a rly nice day

(21:50) this is kate

(21:50) bishop

(21:50) fyi

(21:50) in case you didnt realise or save my number

(21:50) ok im done now i promise good night

yelena had to laugh. she swiped her thumb up the tiny dim screen of the flip phone, pressed it to the many exclamation points.

kate bishop.

what a surprise she had been.

what a surprise she remained.

yelena was not surprised at herself, for being intrigued by the girl. she was not much younger but she was so different and it was the itch, wasn’t it? the need to scratch at the persistent question. what would she have been like if the red room had not been?

yelena did not think she would be much like kate bishop. even as a little girl, she did not talk as much, share as much. kate bishop walked through the world without any shields, all soft eyes and soft skin. it made yelena’s skin crawl to be around it, still not sure the softness would not infect.

and yet. she went back. she had her answer but she went back to her. with alcohol, for the proper drowning of sorrows.

yelena cut her eyes across the horizon. the hills were silver under the moonlight and she would be able to see any vehicles or bodies long before they reached the house. she was sat on the empty table in the centre of the living room; it was the only piece of furniture and from her place she had a sightline out in every direction.

she had not expected such a night they spent drinking together. when the fourth shot hit kate’s system, she was very chatty. yelena learned much that she asked and more that she had not.

kate bishop was hiding something.

she learned that very quickly, and enjoyed trying to pluck it from the girl. to no avail. if she had more time, maybe, but kate did not handle alcohol well.

she would not have handled the red room well.

it hurt to think it, which was foolish. yelena was not there and she would never go back. it was gone, the men who ran it were dead.

it hurt to think it because the red room still sat in her head, still was tangled in everything she was, still soaked her hands, her history, her name. when she walked, she thought of it. when she talked, she thought of it. when she sat beside this girl, listing from griefs weight on her shoulders and drunkenness, yelena thought first that killing her would take no effort at all. kate bishop had a long, pretty neck and she could put a blade, a piece of glass, against her carotid and—red. she had done it before. to girls less soft.

taking her money was easy and more practical.

leaving her number was…not.

and now this.

yelena tapped a button to light up the screen. it did not get good quality photos, this phone, but the pizza dog was funny anyway.

(21:54) i will dispose of this phone tomorrow.

(22:00) yelena! hi! okay?? because i sent too many messages or??

(22:00) you are funny, kate bishop. and you talk so much.

(22:01) i know. sorry

(22:01) i am glad you were never assassin. it would be a shame to kill you. return safely to nyc.

(22:02) thanks. you too

(22:03) or wherever you’re headed

(22:03) which is……..?

yelena huffed a laugh. a brick of a car shouldered over the hillside and rattled down the long long road toward the house. she dropped the burner to the floor and hopped down from the table, crushing it beneath her boot.