#job to do. something to plan and coordinate. that part is easy and I know how to do that

[running-in-the-dark]

oh, yeah - we found a storage unit place (it wasn't that easy, those aren't common here - or at least not where I live). it's actually an old barn that's been converted lol. anyway, so we've rented that for three months (the shortest period they allow), which is perfect. then we don't have to move everything out of there immediately when we can move into the new place in April.

I think I've got enough boxes. I've got a spreadsheet that I'm putting all the information in about what's in which box. I've planned where everything will go and when. I think it's going to work out fine. the last time we moved was so stressful (because I was pretty sick and that made everything really hard), I really want it to go better this time.

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone (pt 2)

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (part 2) 

part three here

Synopsis: You agree to meet up with Tommy for dinner, but when it doesnt go to plan you find yourself in a dangerous situation.

warnings: violence (not extreme, very canon typical), tommy is not nice but i promise it'll make sense later, cursing

word count: 2.4k

taglist: @budugu , please let me know if youd like to be tagged!

information: Thank you all so much for reading, it warms my heart to know someone enjoys my writing! please leave a comment if you have a critique or anything else to say!

Around 4:30 the following evening, you began to get ready for your dinner with Thomas.

As you brushed and styled your hair, you thought of his strange mannerisms from the night before. He had seemed off towards the end of the conversation, and that was something that never happened, as nothing ever threw Thomas off. Just as the final touches of your hair and makeup came together, you realized the time. You had been so lost in your thoughts and in your indulgent hair care and makeup routine, that you had spent an hour primping and priming. Now only thirty minutes away from Tommy’s arrival, you needed to pick out a dress.

To a man, picking out a dress for dinner may seem like a small task in the grand scheme of his day, but all women know this to be false. First, you pick a dress. Then, you have to pick coordinating stockings, an overcoat, sometimes an undercoat, a bag, gloves, and depending on time of day, a hat. So what most men would deem as a quick process, isn’t a quick process at all. You did happen to be in luck though, as your favorite dress was one of the only items of clothing you’d hung up in your small closet after you moved in. You had your stockings from the night before, and they were a perfect match for your skin tone so that was also an easy choice. You decided to forgo a handbag, as you’d just be going to the Shelby’s, so you wouldn’t need any money. For shoes, you settled on a pair of well-broken-in kitten heels. This outfit was out of your recent rotation, given the odd jobs and such you had been working after your fathers death and mothers disownment, but Tommy always dressed to impress, so you thought you should too. Following that train of thought, you added a pair of your mothers white satin gloves, and awaited his arrival at your place.

6:00 pm

A loud knock sounded through your apartment, and you quickly jumped to open the door. There, in all his glory, stood Thomas Shelby. Looking good as ever in his black suit with a pressed white dress shirt, this time his hat folded in his hands.

“Y/N, you look lovely this evening.”, he remarked, eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“Thank you Tommy, you look handsome, as always,” you blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Tommy smiled, offering his hand to help you out of the door and down the stairs of your apartment. You accepted his hand, loosely holding it in yours, before dropping it to turn around and lock the door of your home.

Once the two of you had made it to Tommy’s car, he opened your door.

“Always the gentleman, aye Tommy?”, you laughed, giving him a soft smile as you stepped into the car and sank down into the passenger seat.

“For you, yes, always.” He nodded, reciprocating your smile, and gently closing the door.

He rounded the car, getting in on his own side and starting the engine up. It gave a sputter, then turned over, allowing him to put it in gear.

“I could take a look at sometime that if you’d like Tommy.” You spoke softly, wanting to offer your help.

“How do you know anything about automobiles? Did you work as a mechanic in your time away, Love?” He joked, a small laugh followed by a toothy smile coming from his mouth.

“Yes, actually. I did.” You said sternly, not appreciating the mans sarcasm.

“And what else did you do in your time away? I suppose you also learned to train horses, or fire a gun?” He joked again, clearly not understanding your short tone of voice.

“One of those I did, the other I am still clueless about. Feel free to guess which.” You stated, now having grown angry at his teasing.

Tommy feigned a sigh, followed by his imitation of a horses neigh. The two of you remained silent for the remainder of the ride to Watery Lane, only for the conversation to be interrupted by Tommy as the two of you pulled up to park in front of the house.

“Just so you know, Arthur and Pol are here as well. They wanted to hear all your stories about your time away as soon as I told them I was bringing you over.” He spoke, his gaze remaining on your face.

“Okay, Tommy.” You spat, still quite upset about the conversation at the beginning of the ride.

Before he could ask any questions, you pulled open the door to the car, getting out. He tried to catch up to you, but you made it to the front door of the Shelby home before he did, and let yourself in the house. Old habits die hard, as they say.

Once inside the home, you surveyed your surroundings. Not much of the decor had changed, a few updated photos here and there, but mostly everything was still in its rightful place. You made your way through the house at a leisurely pace, admiring all the once familiar details that now seemed new. You made your way to the dining room, while Tommy still trailed behind you, watching your every move.

“Oh dear, it is so lovely to see you again! It’s been so long, how are you?” Pol said, quickly rising from her chair to give you a warm, yet firm hug.

“I’ve been good Pol, thank you. How have you been?” You returned, not only as a formality but because you were genuinely interested in her life.

As Pol rattled off her answer, talking about ‘business this’ and ‘this family that’, you noticed Tommy move behind you. He came around to your left side, pulling a chair out. You remained standing, not wanting to sit if that was where he had wanted to sit, but the soft hand on the small of your back encouraged you to take the seat. You briefly nodded up at him and gave a soft smile, then continuing to listen to Pol.

After Pol had placed food for everyone on the table, you all began eating. Someone had made a delicious meal, one of your favorites. You first assumed it was Pol, but when you complemented her, she quickly told you ‘Oh dear, I didn’t make this’ and cast a look at Tommy from across the table. You didn’t put any effort into figuring out what that glance meant, rather you just enjoyed the food and answered their occasional question. The questions weren’t anything to outrageous, until one came tumbling out of Arthur’s mouth.

“So, Y/N, what made you come back to the grand ol’ town of Small Heath?” He said, smiling at his question.

“I, uh,” you swallowed. You had truly hoped no one would ask, but you should’ve expected it. You cursed yourself for not preparing an answer ahead of time.

Your mouth ran dry for a moment as you tried to formulate what to say that would keep you out of the most shit. You didn’t want to blurt out the truth, but they most likely already knew it anyways, they were the Shelby’s after all.

“My mother and I had a disagreement about my…life plan.” You spoke, satisfied with your answer.

“What life plan, dear? What does that mean?” Pol added to the questioning.

“Probably the same life plan that included her learning about cars and horses,” Tommy said under his breath, but not nearly quiet enough, as the entire table heard him.

“Now Thomas, you know women can do what they choose.” Pol reprimanded, giving Tom a stern stare.

“Yes, women can.” He spoke, “but not Y/N.”

“And why not Thomas? Am I not a woman?” You said, letting your fork clank against your plate. He had your full attention now, and not in a good way.

“You are, you’re just…different.” He spoke, his gaze now on you instead of Pol.

You scoffed, and shook your head at him. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. You didn’t recognize the Tommy in front of you, your Tommy, the one from 5 years ago, would have been uncaring about your interests, and glad to have someone be so knowledgeable about certain topics. You just stared at him for a moment, waiting on him to say something, anything, that would explain his previous remarks. But nothing ever came, and when you realized nothing ever would, you stood from the table, thanked Pol and Arthur for the dinner, and headed for the door.

Once outside the Shelby house, now all alone, you began walking. You were initially going to go home, but the dwindling liquor supply in your own cabinets encouraged you to find The Garrison. You walked down the streets, that still held a handful of people, mulling your thoughts. Tommy acted like a real jackass, especially given that he was the one who invited you over. By the time your anger had mostly settled, you reached the doors of The Garrison.

9:00 pm

You’d been sat at the bar of The Garrison for around an hour, and were plenty of drinks deep. You now held no anger towards Tommy; hell, you could barely picture his face in your mind. You hadn’t intended on getting drunk tonight, but the lovely barmaid by the name of Grace had been giving you all your drinks ‘on the house’, and who were you to turn down free alcohol? Especially given how you’d left your purse at home because you were ‘just going to the Shelby’s’.

A loud grunt came from behind you, followed by a man sitting down on the stool next to yours. You gave him a quick glance and nod, not recognizing his face. 

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing at the bar all alone, aye?”, he questioned, breathing his hot, putrid breath into your face. 

“One, I’m not alone. Two, none of your business, aye?” You said, hoping to be forceful enough that he got the hint and left you alone. 

Unfortunately, he did not. The next thing you knew, he had his fat arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his barstool. 

“Now listen here, little lady,” he breathed, “You can come to the back alley with me on your own will, or I can make you.” He threatened, brandishing a bowie knife from his waist. 

You sat for a moment, considering your options. You knew you definitely were not going into that alley, even if you had to die bloody for it. You quickly came up with a plan in your head, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you acted. 

“Fat chance, ya bastard. Now let me go,” you said loudly, hoping to draw some attention. 

The man laughed at you, and moved his hand up to grab your shoulder, encasing your frame in his large arm. There was no denying he had size on you, but you had speed. And speed always won. You quickly ducked under his arm, knocking your barstool over behind you. You grabbed his wrist as you slipped out of his hold, bringing his hand to the middle of his back. 

“What do ya say now, you piece of shit,” you laughed in his ear. 

Faster than you expected, he ripped his wrist from your hands, and turned to face you. You heard a loud pop, then the feeling of pain registered on your face. The fucker had just backhanded you infront of the entire Garrison. You gave a small chuckle, which spiraled into a full out laugh, leaving the man utterly confused. You turned your eyes up towards him, feigning doe eyes at the man, before you placed both hands on his shoulders. You moved in closer to his body, and before he could realize, you hooked your right leg behind his knee, and shoved his shoulders as hard as you could manage and still stay upright. 

The large man tumbled to the ground, hitting his head on your now discarded barstool. While you had the chance, you snatched the knife from his hands and knelt down on top of his large body. You pressed the edge of his blade against his own neck, feeling a sense of pride swell through you. You had just taken down this very large, muscular man in front of an entire pub. But before you could get any witty remarks out to your fallen opponent, you heard one thing. 

“Y/N, what have you done?” 

Fuck. Tommy had found you, and no less, found you on top of man, with a knife against his throat, in his brothers pub. 

“Y/N, get off of him. Now.” Tommy spoke, his voice sounding closer now. You turned your head to look at him, finally taking your eyes off of the assailant for just a moment. 

Tommy was standing right behind you, with a look similar to what you could assume the wrath of God would look like. He stood poised, with his hands behind his back, peaky hat on top of his head, hiding his eyes. You turned back to look at the fallen man underneath you, seeing his own look of fear on his face. Then you noticed drops of blood splatting onto the man's face. He wasn’t bleeding, you hadn’t cut him, this much you knew. You tossed the knife to the side, far enough away where neither of you could reach it, and felt for your own face. A warm spot of blood came back on your hand; He had cut the corner of your eye open when he backhanded you. You felt angry at first, then ashamed. This man had cut you, and you kept fighting him like a crazed person. Hot tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes, before you climbed off of the man. 

Tommy grabbed you, helping you to stand on your feet. You were still trying to hold back the tears in your eyes while he gently held your chin, looking over your wound. 

“Love, go to the office. Wait for me, I’ll be there soon.” He spoke, softly. 

You mustered a nod, and scuffled your way to the back office, to wait for him. 

[fantasy-relax]

Ineffable plan

Part 4

In order to collect information, you needed to approach the women who decided to stay in the castle despite having finished the time stipulated in the contract, understandably they were also the ones who had higher-ranking positions in the castle.

Greta, 58 years old the head maid and Lady Dimitrescu's personal maid, in the months you have been there you have known her as a serious, severe and strict woman. However, her efficiency was undeniable, the castle was enormous and it was her duty to keep it clean and impeccable, you admired her ability to coordinate a tremendous amount of staff and carry out the matriarch's orders.

Jenica, 37 years old, was in charge of the vineyard and just as Greta lived under a lot of stress, she was always locked in Lady Dimitrescu's office or with Lady Bela.

Why stay here when they had more than enough money to retire without problems in the town? Furthermore, the responsibility was enormous as well as the stress, you had seen women of their respective ages with less gray hair than them.

Dorotthea, the 49 years old Chef and person in charge of the kitchen area, almost as strict as Greta, you didn't blame her, the kitchen team was the smallest in the castle, however the one that was most watched by the Dimitrescu. The kitchen helpers not only suffered from severe training to enter, they were also disowned by the other maids because the food prepared for the lady of the house and her daughters was made of human flesh that in many cases came from colleagues who broke the rules on too many occasions or were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In her case you could understand why she would stay, the rumors fly, you doubted that she could have a peaceful life after handing over her neighbors on a silver platter (literally).

Relia, the 47 years old master carpenter, relaxed with everything except her work, her passion for her craft was so much that she also was in charge of instructing the lumberjacks and checking the wood that was delivered. If it did not meet her standards, she did not hesitate to return it something the perfectionist Lady Dimitrescu let her do.

While she would face some disdain for being a woman, her experience would be very useful in the village as it needed serious improvements to increase the quality of life, the creation of fences and more resistant houses was a matter of life and death, they had to accept her help.

Alana the 35 year old gardener was... peculiar she was always mumbling while she ate, while she drank while she walked she was always whispering about the plants in the garden or the vineyard. She wasn't rude or anything, but it was hard to strike up a conversation with her that didn't involve plants.

She was intelligent, but her eccentricities would cause her problems in the town.

Soreana, the 38 years old stable manager, she was gentle but it was easy to see how she preferred being with animals to being with people. You didn't understand why you had seen the beasts that were called horses that carried Lady Dimitrescu's carriage, they terrified you as much as the lycans.

How could you approach them so you can ask their reasons?

-------------------------------------------------- ---------------------

“Do you wish to work as a specialized maid?” Miss Greta's voice showed a hint of curiosity.

“Yes, but I can't decide in which area in particular, you see, I have done various jobs in the village, I have had my hands stained with ink and dirt, so it is a bit difficult for me to decide where to go” You used the merchant skills that you had acquired after so many meetings and business with the Duke. “So I wanted to know if it was possible to spend a day in each area to experiment and see which one suits me best.”

The woman seemed to think about it before speaking with a tired tone. “There is a lack of personnel in all areas, the workers in recent years have been problematic and consequently have been... discarded.”

You swallowed, knowing well what she meant by that.

“I'm going to see what I can do, for today follow your normal schedule.”

You nodded, afraid and curious about what awaited you.

-------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------

The next day while you were getting ready for work you heard someone knock on the bedroom door, something strange since to avoid conflicts due to your peculiar biology you woke up much earlier to be able to use the bathroom with privacy.

You opened the door only to be met with an irritated Greta.

“Already in uniform? Perfect, follow me” the woman didn´t wait for a response, walking quickly, almost stumbling, you closed the door and followed her.

“Excuse me, ma'am, but what happened for you to come pick me up so early?”

With a voice full of annoyance, she answered you. “A group of maids destroyed the window and part of the wall of the Hall of Joy” How?! “I still have to investigate where they got the explosives from” Again, how? “Lady Dimitrescu wants it fixed today” Daniela surely had something to do with that request “You said you knew about carpentry, right? “

“Yes ma'am, I also know a little about construction.”

Your response made the woman stop and grab your shoulders with a look that you can only describe as manic even if her voice was even as always. “Did you work with bricklayers?”

“A friend of my father is, sometimes he took me with him when they had work together” Maybe your father considered you a phenomenon, but if you could be useful to him, he was capable of taking you to hell.

“That will be helpful, Relia is the only one who knows anything about masonry, so your support would be more than good for her.”

So your research has begun.

[phantomrose96]

It's been a really messed up week at work.

I learned on Monday that 3 of my coworkers were being laid off. Two were under different managers, but one was a guy I've known since I started and he's been with the company almost 25 years. The layoffs were unexpected, and came right after a huge crunch-time for product launch, and I've been crazy upset for Ulli. Like how do you give 25 years to a company and then someone who's never seen your face just decides to let you go. Since it's a layoff, the decision came from outside our org and our managers/skip-level had no say in it happening.

One of the other guys, Jason, I didn't know well but he's been here 17 years and he was about to close on a house. Now he's out of a job and the bank won't give him a mortgage so just. Fuck you, no house. And this is after putting down the earnest money which is like, a deposit proving you're serious. If it was the 5% earnest money, that was probably like $30,000-$50,000 he won't get back.

The third person didn't reveal themselves, but like on Monday afternoon we had our usual weekly team watercooler chat and like... I made it known how upset I was and how scummy I found this. And I'm an easy crier (I've gotten better in adulthood, but the last couple months have been hard so my ability to not cry has dipped a lot I guess). But like, there was no one in the room with any power here. Layoffs are a faceless corporate decision.

And it was all extra scummy to me because the company is doing well. And they're projecting all this optimism about the future. But the stock price isn't making shitty wallstreet bros happy enough, so corporate decided to layoff 10,000 people--and that was a slow-drip of layoffs between January and March, which were going to be complete by end of March, and they waited for like practically March 31st to hit us.

So that was all... Monday... Tuesday morning I overslept (cuz I didn't sleep well Monday night) and woke up late so I like, kinda just jumped to my work computer. And there was an email from my skip level titled "Sad news about Alexei".

Since the third person to get laid off hadn't identified themselves, it sounded like Alexei was the third layoff. That didn't sit right with me because Alexei was a super super prolific engineer. Like I cannot overstate how prolific. He had a hand in everything. Even if you hadn't worked with him, you knew him. So I could just feel like something was wrong.

So I clicked the email. He died on Sunday evening. My skip-level only just found out and was informing everyone. I literally have an email in my inbox rescheduling a meeting that Alexei sent Sunday morning.

I didn't personally know Alexei all that well, but so many of my coworkers did, some for 24 years, and it's really really obvious how much this has rattled everyone. My project lead Ransom has been out most of the week, in part for the funeral and in part just taking bereavement time. Ransom is the main person I'm coordinating with, and we were just kicking off planning for next steps, so it feels like everything's in this artificial standstill.

And like... maybe I shouldn't phrase it like that. I did know Alexei. But I didn't "24 years" know him.

And now like, all the activity on Teams is either stuff beyond our org happening in the peripheral, or people within our org contributing thoughts and stories about Alexei.

For the last couple days I've been getting up intending to do work. But then I just kinda aimlessly stare at my remote desktop like it might do something. If I had some mindless tasks, I could do those, but my tasks right now are more like deep investigations and my brain won't turn on enough for those, and Ransom's not around to coordinate with. So I've mostly ended up just like... going and taking a nap and logging a sick day. I've also been so extremely tired.

It's been messed up...

[dangraccoon]

How Do I Save You?

Day 18 ~ loss of identity ~

CT-9902 CX-2 TECH

Word Count: 1515 Content: implied serious injury, reference to plan 99, body modification, eye loss, hearing voices, electric shock, mentions of inhibitor chips, brainwashing, reconditioning Reference to suicide shockers/electro capsules as seen in TBB. This is also a rough story in general. Reader discretion advised. 18+ Only; Minors DNI

Please note that there are several different formats used for different voices that he is hearing. If the text is in italics and "quotes", it is a memory. ("See you around, Brown Eyes.") If the test is italic and bold, it is the control chip speaking to him (it is also the thing shocking him). (You are an assassin. Do your job.) If the text is only italic, it is Tech's younger self voicing a part of his conscience. (Show her who you are.) If the text is only bold, it is Crosshair's voice acting as another part of conscience. (No. Say his name.)

"They call him Tech." 

"I do have a brilliant idea!"

"Hey now. Got a name, Brown Eyes?"

"Understanding you does not mean that I agree with you."

"Yeah, he can fill your head with useless info for hours."

"I may process moments and thoughts differently, but that does not mean that I feel any less than you."

"See you around, Brown Eyes."

"Good soldiers follow orders!"

"We're more deviant than defective."

“When have we ever followed orders?"

"Why have I been activated?"

He couldn’t remember feeling so cold so often before. Despite the specialized suit designed to withstand nearly any climate and environment, he still shuddered every time the breeze blew. A side effect of the preservation process used while repairing your body, a small voice in his head supplied. I suppose the Empire never heard of bacta tanks, another, sardonic voice added.  The second voice always sounded suspiciously like Crossh–!– Incorrect– … A small shock ran through his body.  Try again.  It sounded suspiciously like CT-9904. Better.

He shook his head. That wasn’t important now. He had a mission to complete and a plan to enact.

“There is no time, Wrecker. Plan 99.”

His hand jerked. Hemlock said the memories would fade. Why was he suffering through the inevitable recall? His current target stepped down out of her ship, her melodic voice playfully scolding her droid. Something… odd… panged at his chest.

“Head to these coordinates, Brown Eyes.”

Another shock.  Keep yourself in line, CX-2.

Who was she to him? Phee Genoa, Liberator of Ancient Wonders, that helpful voice whispered. She was his– no… is his?  No. Shock. You have a mission to complete, CX-2.  He did not want to eliminate this target. “You’d do well to remember that CT-9902 died on Eriadu,” Hemlock’s voice echoed in his mind. “You are all that remains, and you are destined to serve a higher purpose.”

He moved swiftly, climbing up the ship’s ramp without so much as a whispered footfall. Accessing the console was easy. He could have done it in his sleep. Perhaps you already are, CT-9904’s voice snickered.  Was he? Shock. Forget them and focus on your mission.

How long had he been standing here? How long had his data stick device been beeping?

“Show me your hands,” a voice commanded behind him. The edge of a vibro-blade threatened to slash through the section of his undersuit that covered his neck. “Somethin’ I can help you with?” He didn’t say anything, but his mind was quite loud. Kill her. No, just tell her who you are. Shock.

“I…” his voice was altered by the vocoder in the suit. “You know you’re on my ship, don’t ya?” Phee warned.  Complete your mission. “N-no–” Shock.

Her free hand grasped his shoulder, turning him to face her. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are,” she growled. “I’ve been told the Empire’s been turnin’ normal clones into monsters like you.” You are an assassin. Do your job. “I’m- not–” Shock.

“What have you got there?” she asked, looking just past him at the data stick. “Wouldn’t happen to be a copy of my flight manifest, would it?” She kicked it, the stick breaking in half. “Whoops.” That would jam her navicomputer, that small, helpful voice whispered.  Why did that voice sound so familiar?

“You should consider yourself lucky. I won’t kill you,” Phee said, pressing the buttons on the console that would set the ship into a lockdown, sending a distress signal to another specific ship. How did he know that? Because you are the one who designed and built that system. The voice was small, like that of a child, its accent crisp and clear. Show her who you are. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna leave you conscious,” she said. “Take off your helmet. Now.” Yes! Show her! Either terminate her or yourself. Shock.

His hands shook with the memory of those endless electrocutions, but they did as she asked. They always would.

The look on her face went from angry and protective to shock and horror in the span of a breath.

His jaw shook against the effort of fighting that horrible voice that repeatedly instructed him to follow his training. One hard bite down would prevent anyone from gaining the information he held.

Her vibro-sword shook in her hand.

“T-Tech?” she breathed.

Shock.

You know what you must tell her.

“Tech is dead,” he heard his voice say automatically. “I am all that remains.”

Phee looked as though she were about to crumble. The console beeped. She hit a button.

“Phee, are you there? What’s going on?” He knew that voice.

CT-9901— no. Say his name. Hunter.

“I’m sending you coordinates; meet me there. Echo and that friend of his, too, if you can get ‘em; they’re gonna want to see this.”

“See what–”

“Leave Omega on the island,” she continued. “Wrecker, too. I don’t know if we can… trust this.”

Hunter went quiet. “And Crosshair?”

Phee seemed to think for a moment, searching his pale eyes. “Bring him. He might be able to help.” 

Hunter confirmed receipt and ended the call.

“I’m sorry about this,” Phee told him. He had just enough time to see her eyes brimming with tears. 

The hilt of her sword hit his temple, and he hit the floor of his ship.

Over the past few months, he had to admit he’d gotten somewhat used to not knowing where he was when he woke up. He no longer felt that rush of panic that accompanied an unfamiliar location.

“He’s waking up,” …someone said. He knew that voice, didn’t he? Shouldn’t he recognize that familiar cadence? The smooth accent, not dissimilar to the one that his vocoder played as he spoke.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a face he knew.

Re–Incorrect— CT-756–No, you remember his name!–

“R–Rex…”

“He recognizes you,” another voice said, so similar to Rex’s, but gruffer, more tired. “That’s a good sign, right?”

Another face appeared next to Rex’s. He knew this one, too.

“Hunt–” his voice cut as his body tensed against his will as a shock rolled through him.

Hunter startled. “What happened? Why is he–”

“The shocks,” yet another voice answered. Crosshair is alive, that voice whispered to him, easing his shoulders down from his ears, pressing him to open his eyes. “The reconditioning. He would’ve been punished for saying our names.” Crosshair was kneeling on his other side. “You don’t have to say it, but do you know who I am?”

He nodded.

“Are we your enemy?”

“Cross–”

“Let him, Hunter,” another voice said– Echo.

“Are we your enemy?” Crosshair asked again.

He shook his head. “N-no.”

Crosshair nodded, right hand shaking as it reached out to rest in his.

“Can we take the restraints off of him?” Hunter asked, his eyes sad.

“N-n-no-no,” he stammered. Body tensing and trembling.

Crosshair pressed a hand to his chest. “Easy, easy, vod–”

“D-don’t release me,” he pleaded. “I-I-I won’t be able t-t-to– I-I’d have to k-ki-kill my-my–”

“No, it’s okay, vod,” Crosshair asserted. “We removed the shocker. It’s gone.”

He gasped a breath, his body releasing the tension, but only some of it.

“Th-the control ch-chip is–”

Crosshair’s face betrayed his surprise. 

“Your inhibitor chip?” Rex scowled. “We removed that on Bracca, remember? All four of you.”

His arms pulled at the restraints, straining to touch the base of his neck. “It-it’s st-still– no-no–”

He heard his brothers’ confusion and efforts to calm him down. He heard Phee’s shocked gasp, but all of it was like it was far away, his mind in a prison of sound-proof transparisteel.

“What is he talking about?”

“I’m just as confused as you are!”

“Crosshair, do you have another chip?”

“What–”

“Stop it, all of you!”

The room went silent and still, save for Tech’s struggle against his restraints.

Phee scowled at the men, each looking somewhat uncomfortable.

She came to his side, shooing his brothers to the end of the cot. 

“T–” she started, stopping herself to look at his twin. “Crosshair, can I say his name? Will it hurt him?”

Crosshair sighed. “I… I don’t think so.”

Phee nodded, turning back to him with a renewed resolve. “We’ll try this then.” She took his hand in both of hers. “Brown Eyes,” she whispered. “It’s okay. We all just want to help you.”

His eyes finally opened to meet her gaze, finding no judgment, only a soft, warmness to them. For the first time in so long, he let hope sink into him.

But then something clicked. His pale, cybernetic eyes looked away, shame flooding every part of him.

“Can’t… call me that, anymore.”

Phee’s hand came up to cup his face, gently guiding it back to her. “Might not describe how you look anymore, but you’re still him. You’re still my Brown Eyes. ‘Gar cuy ner kar’ta’, right?” She brought her forehead to rest against his. “You taught me how to say that, remember?”

He nodded against her. 

She pulled back to look into his eyes again. “Now, how do I save you?”

« Previous Day Next Day »

Thanks for reading! - River

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @Padawancat97 @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[sidsthekid]

15 people 15 questions

thanks for the tag bud @crosbyism!!

1. are you named after anyone?

yeah but i don't like it. the plan is to change it someday, but there's some things i gotta improve about myself before i can...

2. when was the last time you cried?

a few days ago. i got 2am sad about things i thought i'd gotten over.

3. do you have kids?

no but every now and then the baby fever comes a-knockin...so maybe in the future

4. what sports do you play/ have you played?

sports were life for me!! i did soccer, horseback riding, swimming, volleyball, tennis. i also started to snowboard recently! but if life had worked out the way i wished it did, i would've stuck to horseback and joined a college team. i've loved horses since forever and the comfort they bring is something else.

5. do you use sarcasm?

penis

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

eyes and the way people talk, i.e. the sound of their voice & accent, maybe habits that they have in terms of how often they use a word (uh, like, etc.). but on the other hand, eyes!! very hard for me to resist the pull of a pretty pair.

7. what’s your eye colour?

brown! i used to feel meh about the color but i like them a lot more, now.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings. i saw the babadook once and that shit fucked me up real bad for a long time. i still can't really look into the darkness for too long or i start seeing things.

9. any talents?

music! i take to instruments very quickly and have what you might call perfect pitch (ew). same goes for my athleticism. my hand-eye coordination has always been pretty good and it makes it easy for me to jump back into things even if i've been inactive for some time.

except golf. i've always been ass at golf.

10. where were you born?

i was born in a place that i'll probably never see again! some teeny tiny suburb.

11. what are your hobbies?

i like to collect enamel pins! every where i travel i try to up a few. i also love doing pottery on the wheel, making pots and bowls. making lil animals to sit on my shelves.

i also love to ice skate and listen to music. and finally, i obviously very much enjoy reading fic and chit chatting about it with my buddies on here.

12. do you have any pets?

no but i fostered a cat once. he was my lil nutty angel.

13. how tall are you?

5 FOOT THREE.

14. favourite subject in school?

political theory. my favorite professor in the whole wide world completely redefined what it meant to study the topic and when i think about him and the classmates i had and the conversations and experiences we bonded over for too long, i definitely cry about it haha. man. i miss it.

i also really enjoyed studying american politics, specifically the history of conspiracy. i remember having to read 'the paranoid style in american politics' by richard hofstadter for a class and it was both parts fascinating and terrifying.

15. dream job?

i don't really have one anymore because i think i already got it. but obviously, things can change and knowing me, they definitely will.

tagging the below!! no pressure to do at all of course. it's all in good fun! :):)

@yippayappa@puckingembarrassing @capsvsducks @plethoriall @ellen-shame @robindrake13 @tangerwolls @georgievs @blackholesun @kylesdubas @cascara-soda @ceanspam @phdmama @dragooncroft @annieqattheperipheral

[drewbacca2]

Starkiller Saga

44 BBY Chapter two part seven

A trip to Kashyyyk

It's been six months since I've seen the hooded figure with the orange lightsaber. I've heard from Bar Lar that he's been messing with the gangs of this area. Or at least someone with his description, lightsaber included. I've been training my force power and my body these last six months in preparation for this fight I've been sensing. He hasn't been messing with Gungan Cargo. Good, but strange. Maybe he doesn't see them as a threat? Or is it something else? Anyway, I've done ten jobs for Gungan Cargo. Giving me a total of 100k and accumulatively 75k for my crew. I get the feeling that I'm needed somewhere… and as soon as I feel that I'm getting a call on my helmet. I answer it and I hear a Wookiee yelling in my ear. Well not yelling per se, but she's just a loud Wookiee when she's excited. "Grandson Grozchal! How have you been?" I say "Hey… Grandmother… I don't know how to tell you this… but- "Don't worry kid. I already felt him return to the trees… I felt all of them. I've met Bendak and your mother before you were found by your father. How did they die? If it's too hard to repeat I understand." "No, it's alright." I recount what happened. Sparing her the details of the war. "I need you to come see me." She says. "Um… not to be disrespectful… but why?" "Have you forgotten life day yesterday? Not to mention your birthday is in three days!" "Well… I'll have to see if I'm not busy today…" "I know you're in the area Grozchal. Your power has gotten stronger and better to where it's not so easy to ignore. I hope to see you soon, Grandson. Bye bye now." And before I can respond she hangs up.

I take my helmet off and go to look behind me to see if Meris is awake and- *Chop* "When were you planning on telling me you not only have a Grandmother, but your birthday is in three days?" I say "I didn't even know she saw me as her grandson. And… Well, I haven't celebrated my birthday since I was eight." "Well you better tell everyone we'll be leaving soon." She says."Right" I reply. I put my armor on and I speak over the intercom. "Alright everyone. We'll be leaving soon for a few days. But we'll come back though. Just want to pay a short visit to my grandmother. I leave the Raven to talk to Bar Lar. "Ah, there's one of my favorite Mandalorians! We unfortunately don't have any jobs for you today. Not only have you taken care of our last problem last week, nobody is needing anything done because they're busy celebrating the aftermath of life day. But is there anything I can do for you?" "Actually yes, could you reserve this landing pad for me? I should only be gone for a few days at max." "I'll see what I can do." He says "Thanks Bar Lar." "Anytime Grozchal." I walk up the loading ramp and as it's closing I turn on the intercom. "Fire up the engines Fixer. We're ready to head out." "Aye aye captain." And not long after she says that we're up in the air. I go to the cockpit and I teach Fixer and Tech how to use the weapons. Unfortunately Karrstag is too big to use the main two gunner seats. But he can use the anti personnel cannon. So I teach him to use that. "hyperspace coordinates locked for Kashyyyk. 3 2 1." She pulls the lever and we go into hyperspace. When we drop out of hyperspace I get a call from that same Wookiee. "I knew you'd come! I'm not ready with some things. Land here and I'll meet you there."

She gives me coordinates and I have Fixer follow them. We come to a wooden landing pad and I see her meditating on the floor in front of it. "You wanna come with me, vod?" He nods and Meris says "I'm coming with you. I want to meet the rest of your family." I say, "ok no problem." We walk down the ramp and she says with her eyes closed "Greetings my Grandson-" she looks up and looks past me to Karrstag and starts to tear up. "He looks like your father." "He does?" "When were you born?" She asks. "In three days, forty years ago. Why?" He says. Her eyes widened. "I knew of a Wookiee that was born forty years ago. I was going to pay him a visit but he disappeared five years ago. His mother died during childbirth. I was going to see if the rumors were true." "What rumors?" Karrstag asked. "That is if my son Karrstag had a child before he left for the Galaxy at large." Tears start to soak into her fur. "Look at him Grozchal! Does he not look exactly like your father?!" I look at him and I see it! "You're right! I don't know how I didn't see it before." "Maybe your eyes refused to let you see because of the pain of losing him." "Heh… we've been calling each other brother this entire time. While in reality we actually are." "I suppose now's a good time as any to ask." I cock my head to the left. "What do you mean?" Karrstag says. "So… I've been thinking… a lot, and I want to be a Mandalorian. If you don't-" I interrupt him with "Don't worry about how I feel about it, because I'm as happy as a loth cat getting fed and getting belly rubs at the same time! But think about what you want. It's a lifestyle, It's a culture, and a religion. There are some rules to being a Mandalorian. In no particular order, but all equally important. They consist of wearing the armor, speaking the language, defending oneself and family, raising your children as Mandalorians, contributing to the clan's welfare, and when called upon by the Mand'alor, rallying to their cause. I'll make you some armor out of durasteel. I hope we can get some Beskar and find a Beskar smith." He smiles and looks as happy as a Wookiee can get! Oh no… he hugs me and I'm dead. Never underestimate a happy Wookiee's hug. He puts me down and I then ask our grandmother what she wanted to show me. She points to the bowl in front of her and says "Sit, I have something to teach you." I then sit like she is. She says "I'm going to teach you healing. You need at least some medical knowledge. How much do you have?" I reply "I know the anatomy of every race in the Galaxy. And I'm not kidding." "I know you're not. This is good news. That means you can use this ability to its fullest potential. So, I need you to tap into the force." I do, and I wait for her instructions. "Now, do not pour too much of your essence into the target. Otherwise you may pour too much and die. You must also picture the flesh mending, the bone shaping, and the blood flowing correctly if you are to use this correctly. Now…" she grabs a ritual dagger and slits her wrist. "Dew it. You may want to hurry. I can only lose so much blood." I then reach out and I close it quickly. "I knew you would have! I think you're a prodigy Grozchal!" I rub the back of my neck. "I wouldn't go that far, but… "Oh you, always so modest. We need to go to the Shadowlands anyway. I think your present is ready. No spoilers!"

[suzyblue0292]

@r7skt sorry it took so long to reply. Had to do the teaching before I could type about the teaching.

Two quick misconceptions about teaching:

1. We are not 12month employees. We are contracted employees for the months school is in session. Some if not most schools with hold part of each month’s paycheck so we can survive in the summer. A few schools expect you to do this yourself. Which is hard because if there’s an emergency then that money is very tempting.

Despite that most teachers work on their curriculum, classrooms, and professional development (all of which we often pay for out of our own pockets) during those non-contract months.

Many of us also work other jobs during that time - and the school year.

2. We don’t just work the hours school is in session. We have stated contract hours we are to be on campus- generally around 30 minutes before and after first and last bells. Most teachers are there hours before after or both at least a few days a week. And that’s just teachers - coaches, principals, counselors live at the school. Coaches have to run practices, there has to be a principal at every school event, counselors and principals are drowning in paperwork. And that just covers the work we do at school- most of us work at home as well. The reason any teacher protest/walkout begins with a contract hours only step is because schools don’t function when those are the only hours we work.

The kids are the worst part of teaching. The kids are the only reason I teach. There’s nothing better than seeing a kid “get it.” Or building relationships with them. They are sweet and helpful and funny. Loving them is so fucking easy.

There is nothing more exhausting than being insulted to your face by people you care about more than anything just for doing your job/the right/adult thing.

When I worked in tech one of my supervisors said that 10 percent of your clients cause 90 percent of your problems. Same thing in teaching. Most kids know when they’ve screwed up and will own it. But oh my god the ones that don’t. Whatever they did or didn’t do is your fault not theirs. And 9 times out of 10 their parents will come for you and maybe your job as well. And the thing is you love the kids anyway. Which is why it hurts so much.

Just Google Ed laws if you’re not already familiar with the BS going on in various states right now. Ryan Walters in particular will bring you a wealth of insanity.

Trying to create an ELA curriculum is beyond headache creating in our current political climate. Granted I teach in a rural school (although I have taught at large ones) in a Bible Belt state.

Do not believe anything you see on the inspirational teaching movies. It doesn’t work like that.

Teaching is a lot more than standing in front of a room talking or even marking papers. You plan the lessons for each week (I prep 20 a week - each 50 minutes long because I teach English I, II, III, IV). Once you know what you’re teaching you have to get together the materials for all the lessons printed/posted, etc. then you teach it, then you grade it, then you analyze the data from the grades work to see if the kids learned it or if you need to reteach it. Generally while fielding emails and verbal complaints about why you’re not grading faster, because someone has always turned something in late that they want graded immediately. You’re also dealing with discipline issues, tech issues, issues from whatever club you sponsor, setting up testing dates, taking webinars. I am also my school’s coordinator for our states career portfolio program that all kids have to complete before graduation. And if you teach English every branch of the military will come to your class to give recruitment speeches multiple times junior and senior year. In fact anyone the school allows to speak with the kids that isn’t an assembly will happen in English because it the only required 4 year course so they get to everyone. Same with paperwork- need to get it everyone- English dept.

How much time do you have in your day to complete all these non teaching tasks? 50 minutes. And your 20 minute lunch. I’m fortunate enough to work at a school where they allow you to work at your desk if the kids are working, but some schools require teachers to be on their feet walking the room if there are kids present.

If you have questions hit me up!!

I’ll continue if I can think of anything else, but I’ve got lesson plans to finish for Monday😭🤣😭🤣

I know a lot of people hc Jason as an English teacher. I like it, I do. But let me be real with you 9 days out of 10 this is the conversation he comes home to:

“How was work?”

“I fucking miss being a crime lord. That’s how.”

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Mission Gone Wrong (Pt. 2)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: The team finally get in contact with you, but getting you home safe isn’t going to be as easy as they planned.

Word Count: 2,009

Natasha’s POV:

When someone goes missing, every second counts and we already spent almost five hours trying to find her. Whoever took her did not sound like they were being nice to her which is all I need to know to want to put bullets in the back of their-

"Hey Nat can you hand me that paper with the coordinates Y/N gave us?" Clint asked me, snapping me out of the thoughts.

"Oh, yeah sure." I said as I handed him the paper and he walked over to the front of the quinjet to type in the numbers and put the jet in autopilot.

We were all sat down now as Tony spoke up.

"So I managed to locate where she's at and I found a layout of the building." he said as he presented a picture of the layout on the tv hung on the wall.

"I think it would be best if we all split up to cover more ground, but keep our comms on at all times so we know if something's happening." he added.

We all just nodded our heads in understanding and agreement.

"When we get there, Sam and I will check around the building from above to make sure it's clear before you enter, while you're in there, and before you exit. When it's good to go we'll give you the okay. Steve and Bucky can cover the hallways in the western part of the building. Wanda and Clint can cover the eastern part while Yelena and Natasha check the northern and southern parts. Bruce, you stay here and take care of what you can when we bring Y/N in until we can get her to the medbay. Are we clear?" he said as he laid out the plan on the tv screen.

We all hummed or said yes.

"What do we do when we find her?" Bucky asked.

"If you find her before I do let me know and I'll be right there. But if she's really hurt then get her to the quinjet asap. Be gentle when you touch her, and I'll meet you there. Understand?" I butted in before Tony could respond and waited for an answer.

Everyone nodded their heads, but I wanted a verbal answer to make sure that they knew how to handle my girl.

"I said do you understand?" I said a little more sternly and everyone said yes.

The rest of the flight was silent as we were all stuck in our own thoughts about Y/N.

When we got there, Tony and Sam went out to check the perimeter while the rest of us waited for the signal which was given to us about five minutes later.

"Alright you're good to go." Sam said over comms.

"Stick to the plan, if you need backup ask for it." Tony added.

I was the first one off of the quinjet, and the first one in the building with Yelena close behind. Everyone went to their assigned spots and took out opposing agents as needed.

"Is everyone good so far?" Steve asked.

"We're okay over here, but no sign of Y/N yet." Wanda responded.

"Well keep looking." I told her.

About 10 minutes passed and no one had eyes on

Y/N.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw an agent trying to discreetly attack me from behind, but they didn't do a good job at it and I was faster.

We got into a fight and I had the upper hand until they pulled something out of their vest, through it onto the ground, and it rolled over to the other side of the room.

That was the moment when I got the chance to knock them out entirely with a single punch to their face while they were distracted.

When I regained my balance I heard the object beeping and turned around to look towards it. My eyes widened.

It was an explosive.

When I realized it, it was too late as exploded.

The force of the explosion flung me back straight into a wall. It must've damaged some parts of the main structure of the building as part of it came crashing down.

When it settled down I heard Sam speak over the comms.

"What happened? Are you guys okay?!"

"Everyone check in, now." Tony said.

"Cap and I are good." Bucky confirmed.

"Im good and Wanda's still with me. Looks like only the eastern and southern parts of the building came down." Clint responded.

"Yeah it was a grenade. Son of a bitch had no other ideas but to practically blow up the place." I grumbled while standing to my feet.

"I'm fine. Just a bit of dust and rubble here but I'm good." Yelena grunted.

"Hey guys..." Clint said with a hint of worry present in his voice.

"What's wrong? Did you find Y/N?! " I asked concerned.

"No...but I found the necklace she always wears.  It was caught in all the debris." he said.

At that, my whole world stopped.

I started running through rubble and up a flight of stairs that led to the eastern part of the building. Yelena eventually caught up to me.

When I got there, Clint and Wanda were already lifting up pieces of stone and rocks in search of Y/N.

"Y/N?!?"

"Y/N are you here?!!"

I joined in, frantically probing through the wreck.

"Detka can you hear us?! If you're here make a noise or move if you can?!" I desperately yelled.

At this point, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Tony had joined in now that we knew Y/N had to be somewhere under this rubble.

"I've got her! Here!" Wanda alerted us.

I not so smoothly stumbled my way over the rubble and to Wanda who was trying to lift a large piece of stone. I saw part of Y/N's hand sticking out and I immediately started helping Wanda lift the rock to reveal Y/N's unconscious, bruised body.

Her clothes were dusty and ripped in places, her face had dirt on it and cuts that were bleeding.

I bent down to check her pulse and it was fairly strong.

I picked her up bridal style and we all started making our way over the debris, out of the building, and to the quinjet.

Bruce quickly opened the door for us and I made my way inside, laying the girl in my arms onto the stretcher that was set up.

He started hooking her up to a monitor and IV as I stood by her side holding her other hand that didn't have the IV, stroking her hair.

"You're okay now, detka. I'm here, I've got you." I whispered into her ear even though I knew she couldn't hear me as she was unconscious.

The team sat down to let Bruce have his space to work, and me have my time to take in the fact that after 7 hours, I finally have my girl back with me.

Bruce assessed her wounds and bruises. They were all pretty minor injuries except for the concussion she probably had which would be the reason she was unconscious when we found her.

When the quinjet landed, Bruce unhooked her from the machines because I insisted on carrying her to the medbay.

I made my way into the building and towards the medbay. Cho was already made aware of the situation and was ready when I walked into the room with Y/N in my arms.

I laid her on the bed and Cho hooked her up to a machine and another IV. There wasn't much more for her to do because Bruce took care of most of it. So she just double checked everything to make sure nothing was missed.

"Everything seems to be looking good. She should be waking up in the next few hours. Just make sure those cuts stay clean and change the bandages." Cho said as she washed her hands.

I gave her a small smile, "Thanks, I really appreciate it."

She just gave me a smile and nod before walking out.

I moved a chair next to Y/N's bed and sat down as I gently took her hand into mine and held it as I used my other hand to stroke her cheek.

I admired her facial features. Everything about her was perfect. From her eyebrows, to her eyelashes, to her nose, to her lips. She was beautiful even like this.

I was so starstruck about the girl in front of me that I failed to noticed the door opening and someone walking in until they spoke up.

"She okay?" Yelena asked.

I turned my head to look behind me so I could see who was talking to me.

"Yeah she's okay. Nothing major." I said as I turned to look back at Y/N.

"That's good." she responded.

A few seconds of silence passed before she spoke again.

"You really would go to hell and back for her, wouldn't you?" she asked me.

I slightly smiled before looking down.

"Yeah. Yeah I would."

Yelena walked to the other side of the bed to look at her best friend and started to stroke her hair.

"She's everything to me. I don't deserve someone like her." I said, finishing my thoughts.

"She probably thinks the same thing about you. That she doesn't deserve someone like you." she told me.

"I try to be the best person I can be for her. She's my muse." I responded back.

"And your muse would probably be getting on your ass now about how you haven't eaten anything for dinner yet." Yelena said as and made her way to the door, probably going to ask Wanda to cook something since she couldn't even boil water the correct way.

About and hour passed and I sat there by Y/N's side the whole time until she started to stir.

"Detka?" I said trying to see if my eyes were deceiving me, but I knew they weren't when her fingers moved in my hand.

"Come on sweet girl, open your eyes for me." I told her.

A few seconds later her beautiful (y/e/c) eyes slowly opened and blinked multiple time, trying to adjust to the light in the room.

"Hi, hi pretty girl." I said smiling at her.

"Nat?" she croaked out.

"Yes baby it's me."

Her eyebrows furrowed like she was thinking too hard about something.

"What? What's wrong? Are you okay?" I asked worriedly.

"How long have I been out for?" she looked at me.

"Well from the time we found you to now, a couple hours. We don't know what happened before that." I told her.

She nodded her head and looked down at our intertwined hands before speaking up again.

"I'm sorry Nat. I-" I interrupted her.

"Shh don't apologize babygirl it's okay. You're okay that's all I care about." I said moving my hand to stroke her hair instead.

"Can you cuddle me?" she so innocently asked.

I smiled at her, "Of course I can, angel."

I moved from my chair to lay down in the bed with her. She cuddled into my side and laid her head in the crook of my neck as she moved her hand to play with the necklace around my neck.

I move one of my hands to stroke her hair, and the other one to rub her back, trying to lull her into a relaxed state.

A few minutes later I looked down at her and she had heavy eyes.

I kissed her forehead, "Go to sleep detka, it's okay. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Natty." she quietly mumbled before she fell asleep and I smiled.

Grateful and happy to have my girl back in my arms safe and sound again.

[ravenadottir]

Ooh, do you have headcanons for Lucas x Marisol x MC? I love Lucisol together and both Lucas and Marisol with MC separately, so having all three of them together sounds like a galaxy brain take to me! My two favourite LIs plus MC sounds awesome.

lucas x marisol x mc, dream throuple

the one thing that comes to mind when i think about lucas and maris

warning: contains smutty headcanons as well.

💋🖤 the dispute for attention is no joke.

💋🖤 trying to impress mc with the most crafted meals/surprise dinners, but they fail to coordinate and end up having to cancel one of the plans.

💋🖤 the bedroom might be the only thing the three of them agree on, decor wise.

💋🖤 marisol and lucas, being so neat and organized, will join forces against an mc that isn’t.

💋🖤 the banter they both have are turn-ons for all of the involved.

💋🖤 marisol and lucas might also join forces to tease mc... in more than way as well.

💋🖤 mc will be the most spoiled girl in a relationship. these two know exactly how to please and splurge.

💋🖤 trips might be the funniest part for me. while lucas wants to be spontaneous, marisol has a checklist for everything, which drives him crazy but after mc talks to him he might even think it’s endearing.

💋🖤 the balance between work/study and love life is definitely the hardest part. marisol might feel excluded sometimes, mostly because of how intense uni life can be, so you know lucas and mc have lots of quiet weekends to accomodate marisol’s schedule.

💋🖤 lucas’ job starts and ends in his place of work so it’s easy for him to leave early sometimes, just to pick up something to spoil the girls.

💋🖤 which brings me to him calling them “my girls”, and it’s probably my favorite headcanon about this throuple.

now, let's dive in on... other stuff

💋🖤 there's so much romanticism with those two and the ambiance around really shows. i reckon they're the type to light up candles, put on some music, have a glass or two of wine.

💋🖤 while we know marisol takes control, as intimacy goes, she will have to give in sometimes, for the sake of the relationship.

💋🖤 the sex is always fun, particularly for mc, who can just sit and watch marisol and lucas tease each other with their witty responses.

💋🖤 marisol likes to sit down and have mc's head between her legs while lucas stays behind mc. yes, the visuals are just... *chef's kiss*

💋🖤 SO - MUCH - SMIRKING - DURING.

💋🖤 lucas can't help himself when he's in the middle of the two girls. he just knows things are gonna be intense when he hears marisol's voice whispering "be quiet and enjoy."

💋🖤 marisol's voice is quite low, and combined with lucas' while they moan?? i'm sorry, i just had to point it out.

💋🖤 going down wise: marisol -> mc -> lucas -> marisol, know what i mean?

💋🖤 the one place they can agree to be the most fun is the tub, and i don't have to point out how good they look while in there, right?

💋🖤 from time to time they have the urge of taking care of mc without caring much about themselves. this is where the whole top/dom comes in. from provoking and long teasing to orgasm denial, sometimes lasting a couple of days or more.

💋🖤 i have this imagery in my head that i have to share: marisol drops by lucas' work and they take a quick picture to send to mc. so at any given point, it might be noon, she'll get a text of marisol in a hot bra and lucas' underwear in the same selfie and honestly? FUCK.

[fragmcntdstars]

         there  was  some  indescribable  satisfaction  of  sending  the  latest  chapters  to  paula�� ,  even  if  she  had  been  in  his  ear  (  quite  literally  )  for  the  last  few  hours  .   she'd  called  shortly  after  he'd  ended  the  call  with  gina  ,  as  if  that  coordination  &&  timing  was  something  that  they'd  both  planned  .   if  stu  thought  about  it  a  little  longer  ,  knowing  how  often  his  publisher  &&  ex  -  wife  agent  were  in  contact  with  one  another  ,  it  was  likely  that  they  had  actually  coordinated  it  .   honestly  ,  he's  not  sure  if  he  should  be  pissed  or  surprised  .   for  the  moment  ,  as  he  leaned  back  in  his  desk  chair  ,  he  decided  that  the  surprise  overwhelmed  the  crushing  desire  to  be  pissed  at  them  both  .   glancing  to  the  kitchen  ,  to  where  tamryn  was  ,  he  takes  the  earbud  out  of  his  ear  &&  puts  it  back  in  the  case  .

         unsurprisingly  ,  the  earbud  needed  to  charge  .   he  wasn't  going  to  write  again  until  later  that  night  ,  or  even  tomorrow  .   honestly  ,  it  depended  on  how  many  chapters  he  had  left  of  the  stab  novelization  .   he'd  forgotten  which  movie  the  franchise  was  on  at  that  point  ,  although  he's  not  shocked  it  was  still  going  .   some  part  of  him  ,  the  part  that  he  tried  to  hide  at  times  ,  was  sickeningly  pleased  with  how  popular  the  franchise  was  .   he  couldn't  believe  that  something  he  &&  billy  had  done  was  able  to  spark  that  much  fervor  ,  that  much  excitement  .

         thoughts  return  to  the  present  as  he  goes  into  the  kitchen  ,  rubbing  the  back  of  his  neck  as  he  tries  working  out  some  of  the  stiffness  that  had  settled  at  his  neck  .   “  no  ,  i  wrote  for  that  whole  time  ,  ”  he  says  ,  looking  around  the  mostly  empty  apartment  .   alexis  had  a  school  trip  that  weekend  ,  so  she  was  staying  with  friends  &&  martha  was  [  …  ]  somewhere  .

         he  laughs  ,  then  kisses  her  neck  again  .   “  you  can  always  remake  the  eggs  ,  ”  he  says  ,  pulling  back  before  going  to  the  keurig  .   “  i'm  gonna  fix  some  coffee  .   do  you  want  any  ,  tam  ?  ”   its  easy  to  fall  back  into  familiar  patterns  ,  even  as  paula  keeps  blowing  up  his  phone  .   he  feels  it  vibrating  in  the  pocket  of  his  pajama  pants  ,  reminding  himself  that  he  should  have  put  the  phone  on  do  not  disturb  or  something  similar  .   “  after  breakfast  ,  i  had  planned  to  sleep  ,  but  paula  might  not  let  me  ,  ”  he  adds  ,  a  slight  laugh  to  his  tone  .   he  loved  his  publisher  like  a  sister  ,  he  really  did  ,  but  sometimes  she  got  on  his  last  nerve  like  it  was  her  second  job  .

@fragmcntdstars asked:  ❛ i’ve been thinking about you all day. ❜ (stu & tamryn - older verse) // still accepting this meme

tamryn stood at the stove in one of her brother's t-shirts as she stirred a skillet of bacon and eggs. “you mean all night...it’s 6am. you’ve been in your office writing the entire night.” it was something she was used to as they were both very nocturnal creatures. “did you actually get any writing done or did you just think about me the whole night?” she certainly wouldn’t complain if it was the latter, tamryn found herself missing stu just as much when he wasn’t with her. even if he was under the same roof. “stu!” she laughed when his arms went around her from behind and his lips found her neck. she never called him ‘richard’ unless it was for appearances. when they were alone he was stu. her stu. it didn’t matter how long they’d been separated or how many years she went thinking that he was dead. “you’re going to make me burn breakfast!” she really didn’t care all that much about breakfast, he could make her forget about anything without much effort at all. “do you want to eat burnt eggs?” she breathed out. “because if you keep distracting me that’s what will happen.”

[holykillercake]

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨ 

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window. 

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger. 

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words  ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance. 

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first.  When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks. 

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution. 

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War. 

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked. 

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else. 

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast. 

¨Good morning, Koby.¨ 

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨ 

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth. 

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison. 

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting. 

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks. 

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. 

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you. 

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets. 

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit. 

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled. 

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨ 

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other. 

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting. 

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.  

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs. 

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby. 

I hope you don´t hate me. 

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player. 

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨ 

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess. 

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me. 

He is a freaking marine. Breathe. 

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right? 

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder. 

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four. 

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound. 

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable. 

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨  Both of you laughed. 

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else. 

It would have been so easy. 

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles. 

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain. 

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨ 

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did. 

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips. 

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips. 

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions. 

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨ 

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted. 

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

[ssahoodrathotchner]

There is a Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you get kidnapped by an unsub and needless to say, it’s not fun

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: swearing, blood, injuries, stabbing, panic attacks, kidnapping, hospitals, angst and fluff

A/N: wanted to write something angsty with a happy ending and here we are! the longest thing i’ve ever written

Masterlist

---

In hindsight, things could have gone better. The case itself was pretty straightforward, with the biggest complication being where the hell Michael Robertson was hidden away. However, no man can hide from Penelope Garcia and within six hours of figuring out Robertson was the unsub, she had his location narrowed down to a small farm in the middle of nowhere. Of course, you thought, where else would a guy like him torture and kill seven women.

Pulling up to the seemingly small farmhouse, you and Reid exchange looks before tightening your bulletproof vests. Double—triple—checking your gun, you tune in to Hotch and Rossi giving directions to the team and local PD about breaching the home. Hotch and Prentiss will take the front door, Morgan and Reid the back, while Rossi and JJ have the barn—you’ll take the side door and meet in the middle, easy. Local PD will secure the perimeter and provide backup as needed. Giving Hotch a reaffirming nod, you disperse to your entry points.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your weapon and prepare to bust this door down in hopes that Robertson will surrender peacefully and you can all go home because fuck do you want to get out of Iowa. Hearing Hotch’s signal, you kick down the door in front of you—a welcome plus of your job—and announce your presence. However, you’re met with a hard elbow to the face. Reeling backwards and tasting blood, you only have the sense to cup your now bleeding—and most likely broken—nose with your free hand.

“Motherfucker,” you spit out in pain, the comms in your vest picking up your voice.

“Y/L/N, report,” Hotch demands, voice scratchy through your earpiece.

However, you are unable to respond as Robertson moves towards you and, taking advantage of your dazed state, hits you over the head with a fucking two-by-four once, twice, nope three times before the jagged wood floor is rushing up to meet you as you collapse into darkness. Oh, fuck. You’re out before you hit the ground.

---

As soon as Aaron hears you swear, he knows it’s bad, but one look at Emily has him forging ahead and clearing each room like he is supposed to. Checking in with the other duos, Hotch can’t help but worry when you don’t respond immediately. When he finally gets to the mid-point of the house and the exact spot where you were supposed to rendezvous with him, Emily, Derek, and Spencer, his worries spike exponentially.

“Where’s Y/L/N,” he spits out.

“We didn’t see her,” Morgan answers carefully. “We assumed she found you guys,” he adds, and Hotch grits his teeth.

“Clear in the barn,” he hears Rossi report, and he sighs.

“Y/L/N is missing,” he says, surprisingly calm. “Report to the house.”

Police officers shuffle through the house, and Aaron tries not to let his irritation show. Turning back to the team, he can’t help but notice how worried the rest of them are.

“Our one and only priority is finding Y/N,” he states.

“I’ll get Garcia onboard to coordinate what happens next,” Morgan says, excusing himself from the tension of the farm house sitting room. “Expect some very distressed calls in your futures,” he finishes with a shake of his head.

“Emily and I will re-check the rest of the house, just in case,” JJ supplies, and Hotch nods. Reid, looking uneasy, makes some excuse about double-checking the floor plans of the property before skirting out the door, leaving Dave and Aaron—and some police officers—to survey the bland artwork on the walls.

Grasping the bridge of his nose, Aaron tries to take a deep breath, but he can’t; not with you missing on the property owned by an unsub fucking known for mutilating women.

“Hey,” Rossi approaches from Hotch’s left. “We’ll figure this out. Y/L/N’s a smart girl; she won’t go down easy,”

Hotch can only hope that Rossi’s right, but he trusts you; trusts your instincts as an agent.

---

You come to in bits and pieces. Some part of your brain recognizes that you’re being dragged by your armpits down some rickety stairs and deep into the earth; another part recognizes that your hands are free, which means your gun is no longer in your grasp. Fuck fuck fuck. A particularly harsh blow to your head from the hands of your captor stops any further thoughts. Fuck you, Robertson.

---

Regrouping with the team outside the house, Hotch starts to get agitated.

“What do you mean there’s an elaborate tunnel system beneath the house, Garcia,” he almost yells. “How did you not catch this before.”

“Well,” Reid steps in, “the only plans that include this system are dated between 1910 and 1924 which means that they were built in at least the 1900s and the fact that they do not appear in any property plans since those dates suggests that the subsequent owners either didn’t know about the tunnels, or they actively chose to not include them for some reason which—”

“—which means that we don’t really have a clue as to what the current tunnels look like,” Morgan finishes for him, and Hotch internally blanches.

No, he thinks to himself. I will not lose her like this, not after Haley.

Taking a deep breath, Hotch tries to re-assess the situation, but finds himself unable to breathe deeply. At all. Gasping, he tries to communicate to the team the severity of their situation, but all that comes out is a strangled noise. Vaguely, he hears Morgan clear the room as JJ gently takes his upper arm and steers him out the back door of the house on to the porch.

“Hotch,” he can’t stand to listen to her voice; her calm demeanor only increasing his anxiety about your current situation.

“Hotch,” JJ tries again, harsher this time. “I need you to take a breath; only one, just now, that’s it.”

I can do that, he thinks. And he does; he takes one solitary breath.

“Good,” she encourages, “now do it again, just once.” And so he does, again, and again, for JJ.

Once his breathing is under control and JJ steps back with an appraising eye, he speaks.

“We need to find her,” he gasps out. “We have to; I can’t—” he trails off.

With a softness he has yet to comprehend, JJ looks into his eyes and sighs.

“We’ll find her, Hotch,” she reassures him. “She’s on the property, she has to be, and we’ll find her.”

With a shaky nod, Hotch allows JJ’s words to take hold of him, and he goes back to being the BAU’s Unit Chief. Gazing out on the field behind the house, his resolve is firm; Aaron Hotchner will find you, Michael Robertson be damned.

---

The next moment you remember—thanks broken nose and probable concussion—is your body being roughly thrown into a plastic chair, sans bullet-proof vest, and then your arms and legs being tightly tied down. A rag of some sort is crudely stuffed into your mouth, and you can’t help but gag because fuck does it do nothing to replace the gross taste of blood in your mouth. At least it’s me, you think to yourself, I’d hate to think of anyone else from the team in this position. And with that thought, you drift out of consciousness with Aaron’s face in the forefront of your addled mind. Love, I hope you find me soon.

---

It’s been three hours and Aaron Hotchner is losing his mind. Garcia, to her credit, is working furiously to uncover literally everything she can on Robertson, his family, friends as well as the closest neighboring farms to the one the BAU is currently ripping apart. Prentiss and Morgan have taken to meticulously going through each and every room of the house and barn in hopes of discovering some new and hidden passageway to the tunnel system that resides under the structure. Reid is creating an enhanced geographical profile of the property and those that encompass it, while JJ and Rossi discuss the nuances of Robertson’s profile somewhere with the local cops. Aaron, however, can only seem to scowl at the field of corn behind the house and remember the last moments he had with you before you disappeared.

“Hotch,” he turns when he hears Morgan’s voice. “We’ve got something.”

Heart racing, Hotch nods and follows Morgan out the side door—the one you entered—before stopping just short of the man in front of him.

“Local crime scene techs just confirmed that there’s blood here, and judging from the placement of the drops, it seems that Robertson got the drop on Y/L/N,” he states with a grimace, and Hotch can’t help but scrutinize the ground where your blood has fallen.

“Reid’s got a better handle on what might have happened, but I thought you’d like to see it for yourself,” Morgan finishes, and Hotch nods tightly before moving off in search of Reid. Finding the young profiler in the front room of the farm house, Hotch only has to look at him before he’s revealing all that he’s learned since your disappearance.

“It seems that the blueprints for the house were updated once since the 1920s, which was in 1953, so that’s our most recent map of what the whole underside of the property looks like,” Reid continues. “From what I can tell, there are at least five entrance points, three main walkways, and eight different chambers that appear to function as some form of bunker for the previous owners, and so my guess is that Y/N is being kept in one of the rooms, just like the previous victims most likely were,” Reid pauses. “Not that Y/N will become another victim, I’m just saying that for the sake of the case it appears that—” Emily enters the room and Hotch has never been so grateful for her presence in a room, ever.

“Hey, I don’t mean to disrupt Reid’s briefing, but local PD has found a possible way into the fuckin’ labyrinth out in the barn,” she states, curiously looking over at the map Reid has scribbled onto the property blueprints.

Turning his head sharply, Hotch nods at Prentiss and uncrosses his arms as she leads him out of the farm house as Reid continues to ponder the blueprints in front of him.

---

The next time you rise to consciousness, Robertson is dragging an ugly hunting knife across your collarbones, shoulder to shoulder, and cooing at you to wake up. Weirdo.

“Ah, there you are baby,” Robertson says sweetly. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up for me.”

You let out a groan and through the gag in your mouth—holy fuck does it taste like dirty socks—you attempt to cuss out your captor.

“Now, now, Sweetness,” Robertson chides. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” and with that terrifying statement, he leans closer to you and pulls the knife across your left shoulder, effectively slicing open your work shirt. Damn, you think to yourself, this was actually one of my favorites. But that’s the last coherent thought you produce because the combination of Robertson’s knife, the searing pain of your broken nose, and your own possibly concussed brain are unable to completely comprehend any more information as the man in question leaves light slices across your upper chest. Thankfully, the rag—sock? —in your mouth muffles your whimpers as you jolt in pain. Aaron, please find me soon you think before the feeling is all-encompassing and your mind shifts to merciful blankness.

---

“I wish I could do more,” Garcia states, but Hotch can only sigh in agreement.

“You’ve done well, Garcia. Let me know if you find anything else,” Hotch states, eyes darting over to the geographical profile Reid is standing in front of, conversing with Emily. The tunnel found by local PD had been a decoy, and they were no closer to finding you.

“Of course, Sir. I’m on it like Sergio on tuna. Garcia out,” and with that statement, the line goes dead.

Putting his phone in his pocket, Hotch walks towards Reid and Prentiss with purpose.

“Reid, have you found anything else about the tunnel system?”

“It appears that there are a series of false entrances that don’t actually connect with the full network of passageways,” Reid states gesturing wildly at the map. “The full system can only be accessed from four different vantage points, but given that this map hasn’t been updated since the 50s, I only have a general idea of where the entryways are given that the buildings on the property have shifted since the last accurate map was compiled.”

“The good news is that two of the entrances seem to be contained within this house, the bad news is that they may have been bricked over by renovations to the building,” Prentiss says with a grimace. “The other two entries are somewhere out in what’s now the fields, so we’ll have less luck finding them, even with all the extra help from the PD.”

Hotch’s shoulders sag under the weight of the new information and he frowns at the agents in front of him. Squinting hard at the blueprints haphazardly tacked to the board in front of him, Hotch tries to make sense of the possible entry points in the house he’s currently standing in.

“Get Morgan in here,” Hotch finally says. “He’s got experience with restoration work and may have a better idea on where the unsub could have taken Y/N from within the house given the structural changes.” And with that, Hotch strides out the front door of the house and leans on the porch railing. Y/N, I’m coming for you, just hold on a little longer.

---

Robertson is a bitch. And he has the knife to prove it.

“So, you’re impotent, that’s why you’re using such a big knife, right?” you taunt him after who knows how fuckin’ long. “You see, we thought you had, mmm, issues, but we didn’t know for sure; this just confirms it.”

He took the gag out of your mouth to hear you scream, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of doing so. However, instead of responding to your jabs, Robertson just drives the knife a little bit deeper into your torso and you let out a hiss in retaliation, throwing your head back.

“God, you sure know how to treat a girl, don’t ya?” you grit out between pained breaths. “No wonder a charmer like you had so many lady friends.”

“They didn’t appreciate me!” Robertson yells. “Just like you don’t appreciate me!”

The next slash glances off your ribs and yikes does it fuckin’ hurt. Jerking away as best you can, you contemplate your options. At this point, you know your only way out is to either escape—as if—or to make Robertson see some semblance of reason. Otherwise, you aren’t going to make it out of here alive. Fuck, you think, I’m so sorry, Aaron. I promise I’ll find you. Or you’ll find me. A particularly vicious cut to your cheekbone draws you back to reality, and once again, you are only able to focus on the pain and Robertson’s maniacal laughter. Creepy motherfucker.

---

Hotch has never seen Morgan so focused. Scouring the blueprints with Reid and Prentiss, Garcia on speakerphone, Morgan works to figure out where the hell Robertson could have disappeared to inside the house. With you. Hotch has taken to pacing the length of the house in order to keep his nerves and his temper somewhat under control; he needs to be alert and ready to get to you as soon as possible. Running a hand through his hair and over his face, Hotch sighs which draws the attention of Rossi and JJ who slowly drift over to him from their place by a window.

“Hotch—” JJ starts but is cut off by a hard look.

“We’ll find her, Aaron.” Rossi tries. “You know that she’s here somewhere, probably giving Robertson all sorts of hell.”

“We’ve seen what Robertson does to his victims, Dave,” Hotch retorts. “He basically slices women to pieces and beats them,” taking a breath, he tries to calm himself. “We need to find her alive,” he finishes softly.

JJ and Rossi share a concerned look before Rossi sighs and steps forward to place a hand on Hotch’s shoulder.

“We’ll find her. There’s no way—” he’s cut off by an excited yell and the three of them swing around towards the source of the noise which happens to be Prentiss.

Morgan’s already moving, stalking into another room and Reid, accompanied by Garcia on the phone, hurries to catch up.

“We found the door Robertson most likely used to take Y/L/N and we’re pretty sure it connects to the full system under the property,” Prentiss explains and that’s all it takes for Hotch to stride off after Morgan and Reid.

Head spinning, Aaron fluctuates between hope and hopelessness. He knows they’ll find you; Robertson can’t hide in the tunnel system, no matter how well he knows them, but he’s most worried about you. We’re coming for you, Y/N. I won’t let this bastard get away with this.

---

Your whole body fucking hurts and you’re pretty sure it’s not just because you started off your captivity with a broken nose and concussion. Your mouth tastes like blood again from how hard you’ve clamped down on your bottom lip to resist screaming as loud as you can. Robertson is cruel, there’s no question about that. You’d seen the photos of his other victims, and now you were undergoing the same things those women did in their last moments. Your entire body feels heavy, and if you weren’t tied down to a chair, you don’t think you’d be able to hold yourself up. Between the blood loss and head trauma, you’re surprised your thoughts are still relatively coherent.

Robertson is pacing in front of you, muttering to himself, shooting looks your way, and absentmindedly gesturing with the knife in his hand. Fantastic, you think hazily, he’s most likely devolving and I’m the only one around. Yay. Sucking in a breath, you wince as the action reignites a dizzying pain in your torso. Letting out a groan, you flinch as Robertson turns towards you, eyes shining with something that makes your heart race a little quicker. 


“Now, baby,” he states with a twisted grin—grimace? —that makes you grit your teeth even harder. “I’m not done with you yet, don’t worry. I still wanna hear you scream for me.”

Here we go again.

“Do your worst,” you snarl at him, and while that’s probably the worst thing to say to a devolving unsub, you’re too fed up and tired to care at this point; you can take it, you have to take it so you can survive. C’mon, Aaron. Where’s my knight in shining armor? Robertson descends on you with renewed vigor, and after the fourth slice to your leg, your ears rush and your head drops to your chest as you pass out. Fuck.

---

The trap door Robertson dragged you down can only be accessed by sliding one of the wooden floorboards back half an inch before it clicks into place and the adjoining boards lift slightly, revealing the way into the tunnels. How Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss figured that out is beyond Hotch’s current thought process because how many times had he paced over that exact spot? As soon as the hatch is lifted, all he sees is blood—your blood—sprinkled on the steps that descend into the darkened passageway. He takes a sharp breath and somewhere behind him, he can hear JJ gasp and Morgan swear.

“Medics are on stand-by,” comes Rossi’s voice from his shoulder.

Nodding tersely and setting his shoulders, he turns to the team.

“Stay alert and stick together. We don’t know where Robertson is, so clear the rooms and move on.” His voice is hard and leaves no room for debate.

“Let’s go get our girl,” Morgan adds, and with that, the team takes careful steps down into the hallway, following Aaron.

---

The first room they happen across is empty, as are the second, third, and fourth rooms. Forging ahead, knowing that they’re only closer to where you are, they continue. Turning a corner, Hotch can hear movement and his heart speeds up. Robertson. Signaling to the team to pause, he gauges the best course of action. He doesn’t know what state you’re in, or Robertson for that matter, and so he has to approach the situation with caution. Gun in hand and stepping to one side of the door, he lets Morgan and Prentiss move to the other. Backed by JJ, Reid, and Rossi, Hotch nods and Morgan kicks down the door before moving quickly inside, yelling at Robertson. Prentiss follows him and then Hotch steps through and freezes.

Robertson is crouched over your crumpled and bloody body looking wild-eyed at the agents in front of him. Hotch can’t breathe. You aren’t moving.

“She’s mine,” Robertson snarls, brandishing a knife at Morgan as he tries to get closer. “Mine!”

“Okay, Michael,” says Rossi calmly, “Let’s figure this out.”

“No. She’s mine! I’m not done,” Robertson’s reply is harsh, bordering on a yell.

“What do you mean you aren’t done, Michael?” Hotch’s voice is cold and flat. What more could Robertson possibly want?

“She didn’t scream! I need her to scream for me!” and with that, Robertson runs the tip of his blade down your already bloody cheek.

The team is stunned, but then Robertson raises the knife in the air over your chest and—

He falls.

Looking slowly to the right, Hotch sees Prentiss, gun raised, and then to Robertson splayed on the ground, blood pooling under his head. Vaguely, Hotch hears Reid calling for medics and alerting the local officers to what just happened. Morgan’s already at your side, turning you slowly, carefully, gently on to your back, and that’s when Hotch rushes to you, gun holstered.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. There’s blood everywhere. Aaron can’t tell if you’re breathing. He chokes back a sob. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.

“Hotch, she’s alive,” Morgan breathes, and with that, Hotch lets out a sigh of relief and allows himself to fully look at you, blinking a few times to rid his eyes of tears.

Your face is littered with shallow cuts. Your nose is bloody—definitely broken—and there’s already bruising around your eyes. Your shirt is torn and bloodied in so many places, as are your pants. He can see blood leaking slowly multiple places on your thighs, and even more from your arms and midsection. Your eyes are closed.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Hotch presses down on one of the lacerations to your torso, Morgan taking another, and JJ appearing to apply pressure on a cut that’s just a little too close to your femoral artery.

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” his voice shakes. “I need you to open your eyes, Y/N. Have to know you’re okay.”

There’s yelling from down the hallway, medics bustling into the room and taking over. Aaron can’t make himself let go of you, and it takes Rossi’s gentle but firm hand to guide him back and away from you. He can’t stop shaking.

---

You wake, briefly, when you feel yourself being lifted. Squinting, you try to turn your head, as the rest of the world comes crashing back in a wave of sound and movement. Vision blurred, you try and make sense of what’s going on around you.

“She’s awake!” calls a voice from your left, and you can make out the outline of… JJ? They’re here.

You’re shifted around more, and you get the idea that you’re being strapped down to a gurney as medics begin to wheel you out of the hellhole where Robertson held you.

Suddenly, there’s a hand grasping yours, and before your mind can comprehend what’s happening, all you hear is—

“Sweetheart…?” in the most relieved, reverent, adoring, tone you think you’ve ever heard in your life and it’s Aaron holding your hand. He’s here he’s here he’s here. He found me.

“Aaron,” his name leaves you in a sigh. “Y’found me,” you say softly, looking him over.

“Of course, I did, Sweetheart,” he says, just as soft.

“Where’s…?” you don’t want to say his name.

“Dead. Emily shot him,” Aaron answers in a low voice. Good fucking riddance.

You hum and ease back as the gurney jostles you particularly hard. Gritting your teeth, you groan as you head starts to pound even harder. Feeling yourself losing consciousness, you squeeze Aaron’s hand.

“Love you,” and before he can respond, you vision goes black and all is quiet once more.

---

After you get loaded into the nearest ambulance and speed towards the hospital, Rossi confirms that local officers have secured the scene. With not a moment to waste, the team takes off after the ambulance. Morgan calls Garcia to update her on your status and spends a majority of the ride to the hospital convincing her that she doesn’t need to fly over to see you. Hotch stares blankly out the window and replays the entire interaction with Robertson. He saw the damage Robertson did to you—I need her to scream—and can’t help but feel a little bit of pride at the fact that you didn’t give in to Robertson despite the obvious pain you endured.

The SUVs pull up to the hospital, screeching to a halt, before all the doors are thrown open and the team hurries into the lobby. The nurse at the desk looks up to find six disheveled agents crowding around the counter, worry across all of their faces.

“We’re here for Agent Y/L/N, she probably arrived twenty minutes ago,” Hotch states, voice surprisingly calm.

“I can confirm she arrived and that she’s currently being attended to, but I don’t know any more than that at this moment,” the nurse replies, looking at the computer screen.

“Do you know if she’ll be okay?” asks Spencer in a subdued voice.

“The severity of her injuries is yet to be determined, I’m afraid. She has obvious head trauma, numerous lacerations, and possible internal bleeding, but until I get another update, that’s all I can share,” the nurse says with a sad smile.

Nodding, Aaron steps away from the counter. C’mon, Sweetheart.

“Thank you,” comes Rossi’s voice from Hotch’s left, and with that, the team migrates to the largest cluster of chairs where they promptly collapse in exhaustion.

Sitting down heavily, Hotch rests his elbows on his knees and runs a hand over his face. Prentiss drops in to the chair on his left, Rossi settles in on his right. Across from them, Reid and JJ sit on either side of Morgan. Looking down at his hands, Aaron realizes that they still have your blood on them. He glares at them, somehow wishing that if he stares hard enough, it’ll vanish on its own. A hand closes around one of his, and he looks at Emily.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says softly, then, louder, “You guys too, Morgan and JJ. Let’s go.”

It’s then that Aaron looks—really looks—and sees that like him, Morgan and JJ have your blood on their hands as well. With a nod, they all stand. Morgan and Hotch walking into the men’s room while Emily follows JJ to keep her company. Mechanically, the two men stand side-by-side and turn on the taps, starting the slow process of washing away the blood that’s dried on them. Glancing to the side, Hotch sees Morgan, brow furrowed in concentration, as he scrubs under his nails.

“Thank you,” he says, stopping his own motions to fully look at Derek, who turns at the sound of his voice.

“For what?” Morgan asks, slightly confused.

“For going over the blueprints with Reid, Prentiss, and Garcia. For figuring out where in the house Y/N had disappeared. For going above and beyond to find her and— “

“Hotch, you don’t have to thank me for that,” Morgan cuts him off. “I will do everything in my power to make sure this team is okay, you know that,” and with a small grin, he adds “I’m just happy that one of my hobbies was useful for the case.”

Hotch can’t help but smile a little in return, and with that, they go back to washing their hands in a more comfortable silence.

---

Walking back into the waiting area, Hotch is confronted with the sight of Reid and Rossi surrounded by a pile of snacks from one of the vending machines. He pauses for a second, shakes his head, and then continues back to the chair he was sitting in earlier. Once he’s seated, Reid tosses him a bag of something—chips? —which he dutifully opens under the watchful eye of Rossi. Morgan snags his own snack and then leans against the nearest wall, content to stand. A short while later, Emily and JJ return, Emily’s arm secure around JJ’s shoulders, before they too are digging in to the veritable mountain of food that Reid and Rossi managed to accumulate. Sitting in silence—save the crunching of whatever food they were eating—the team takes a second to contemplate and reassess the day.

The sound of Velcro breaks Hotch out of his trance, and he looks over to see Morgan undoing his bulletproof vest. The vests which the rest of them are still wearing. There’s a scramble after that, to rid themselves of their exterior layer, which are then haphazardly stacked on an open seat. Taking a deep breath for what feels like the first time in days, Hotch sinks back in his chair and closes his eyes, head tipped back against the cool wall behind him.

“Anyone want water?” Reid is the first to break the tenuous silence. There’s a chorus of hums and head shakes before he stands and wanders off, presumably in the direction of the vending machines where he first got the food.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Rossi says looking at Aaron, whose eyes are now open, staring at the ceiling. “She’s tough, tougher than I think we gave her credit for.”

Hotch sighs in response, but Emily is the next to speak up.

“Robertson said she didn’t scream, which…” she trails off, looking at the floor before meeting Aaron’s eyes. “I don’t think I could have done that, not like that. I can’t imagine what that was like for her...”

“I wish we had gotten there sooner,” Hotch finally says. “I wish—”

“No.” Morgan says, a hard edge to his voice. “Don’t do that to yourself, Hotch. Or any of us. We did what we could and we found her alive.”

“I know, but—” Hotch is cut off by JJ this time.

“But nothing, Aaron. She’s going to be okay.” And with that, JJ moves from her chair to the one next to him and gently puts a hand on his shoulder. “She was awake and talking before they took her away, you know that,” she adds softly.

“Hey guys, so I talked to the nurse and—” Reid returns and with those words, Hotch sits straight in his seat, JJ’s hand falling away as his attention and that of his teammates focus on what Reid has to say next. “—and apparently, Y/N only needed minor surgery to repair some internal damage from three of the stab wounds and the other slashes were relatively shallow, so they just needed to be stitched up. She also has contusions on her head from where I’m guessing Robertson hit her to initially subdue her, and she does have a concussion and broken nose, but according to the nurse Y/N only has to stay here for a maximum of three days to make sure that there are no serious effects from the concussion and to keep an eye on her sutures before she’ll be cleared to leave.” Reid’s final statement hangs in the air, sinking in, and once it does, Aaron hangs his head as tears fall down his cheeks. You’re okay. You’re alive you’re alive you’re alive.

Derek immediately calls Garcia to give her the good news and her scream of excitement can be heard by the rest of the team even though Morgan did not have her on speakerphone. Rossi chuckles to himself before looking over at Aaron and his shaking shoulders. Putting a hand on his back, Rossi doesn’t say anything, but instead, provides silent support to the man who almost lost what little he had left.

“Agent Y/L/N?” comes a voice from the desk, and Aaron wipes his eyes before taking a breath and standing and turning with the rest of the team.

“Yes?” It’s Prentiss who replies.

“We’ve moved her to a room; you can see her now,” and with that, the nurse beckons for them to follow her through the set of double-doors that lead further into the hospital. Coming to a stop, the nurse turns and fixes Hotch with a look. “I’ll warn you now, she looks worse off than she actually is, so don’t be put off by her appearance. She shouldn’t move too much because there’s a risk she’ll rip her stitches, but other than that, she’ll be okay,” and with a nod, she opens the door and ushers them inside.

Aaron’s eyes rush to take in your appearance—butterfly bandages across your nose, a few on your cheekbones and forehead, bandages up both arms, and he’s sure there’s more hidden from view. For a moment, he’s taken back to the last time he saw you laying this still. Crumpled on the floor, bloody and unmoving, Robertson with a knife crouched over you, going to kill you—

Prentiss pushes past him, breaking his train of thought, as she moves to your side and gives a low whistle before gingerly taking your hand. Aaron walks to your other side, bending down to place a kiss on the top of your head, and the rest of the team surround your bed, everyone gazing down at your sleeping form.

---

The first thing you notice is the pain in your head, followed by pain that slowly pulses through your whole body, and for a moment, you remember. Robertson, the knife, slicing, slashing, taunting, yelling, don’t scream can’t scream—

But then you feel it. The familiar pressure of Aaron kissing your head and it clears your head a bit. Not with Robertson, not with Robertson, I’m not with that fucker.

“Fuck,” you groan, mind still hazy, pain more intense, as you return to consciousness. “Wh’re am I?” you slur out next, as you blink away the tiredness in your eyes and try not to squint at the fluorescents or the shadows that are sharpening into your team.

Looking to your right, you lock eyes with Aaron, who pushes hair off of your face before smiling sweetly at you and you try to smile back.

“Hi, Love,” you say, voice low and rough. He leans down and kisses your forehead this time, before gently holding your hand.

Realizing you aren’t alone, you look around at the rest of the team, squeezing Emily’s hand in yours.

“You killed ‘im?” you ask, searching her face. She nods. “Good,” you sigh. “He was such an asshole.”

With that, Derek laughs, followed by Rossi. Emily’s shoulders drop as she lets out a chuckle, Spencer smiles, and JJ rolls her eyes with a fond grin. Almost the whole team.

As if summoned by the power of thought, Derek’s phone rings and he answers the call, Garcia’s voice coming through loud and clear on speakerphone.

“Y/N! My poor, poor, goddess divine how are you?” she questions. You clear your throat and attempt to speak, but before you can say anything Morgan is passing the phone to Aaron, who holds it closer to your face. You shoot him a grateful smile before responding.

“I’m fine, Pen. Just some cuts and scrapes,” you joke.

“That’s a lie, Y/L/N and we all know it. Don’t make me ask you again!” she chastises and you roll your eyes, holding back a wince as pain twinges through your side.

“I’ll be okay, Penelope,” you say softly. Another jolt of pain, this time in your arm, almost makes you whimper, but you bite your lip instead. An action which does not go unnoticed in a room full of profilers.

“It’s nice to see you awake, Y/N,” JJ says lightly before shooting a glance at Aaron and then looking at the rest of the team. “But we should get back to the hotel.”

“Bye my lovelies! I’m happy you’re okay, Y/N. Get home safe, please! Garcia out,” and Derek puts his phone away before smiling at you. Reid give you a small wave and Rossi claps a hand on Aaron’s shoulder before they all turn to exit.

With one last squeeze to your hand, Emily lets go and follows the rest of the team, save Aaron, out the door with the promise that they’ll return later.

When everyone is out and the door shuts behind them, you finally let out a pained breath and scrunch your eyes shut with a groan. You feel Aaron smooth a hand over your hair and you try to control your breathing, but it’s hard when your entire body hurts. Slowly, tears make their way down your face and Aaron’s quick to softly brush them away. Turning to look at him, you allow yourself to breakdown in the safety of his presence.

Your breath hitches as the tears fall faster, your head hurts, your chest hurts, everything hurts and you try not to break into a sob, but the tears won’t stop and eventually sobs wrench from your body and you let them. Aaron has tears of his own falling down his face and he holds your hand in both of his, kissing your knuckles, fingertips, palm, whatever he can as he watches you break. He wants to hold you, wrap you in his arms and shield you from the pain but he can’t because your injuries prevent him from doing so and it pains him to see you this way. So he does what he can.

“I love you too, Sweetheart. I didn’t get to say it before you passed out and—” he pauses to take a breath. “I love you so much. So so much.”

“I was so scared—” you gasp through a sob. “Terrified, Aaron. I couldn’t—” you can’t speak through the force of your tears. Aaron shushes you and kisses your cheek, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“I know, Sweetheart. I know, but you were so brave, so brave and I am so proud of you for being so strong and—” he breaks off in his own soft sob. “—and for staying alive. You’re alive.”

Lifting a hand to scrub at your face, you take a few deep breaths, but more tears escape.

“I can’t—” your breath hitches at what exactly Robertson had done to you. “He wanted me to scream so I didn’t, I couldn’t. I knew what he did to the others, and I just thought that—” you take another breath. “I just thought that if I could deny him that, not give in, it would buy you guys time to find me,” you pull Aaron’s hand to your lips, resting them on the back of his hand and closing your eyes to ground yourself.

“And you did,” he replies softly, gently. “When we found you—” he takes his own steadying breath. “When we found you, Robertson was angry, he said…he said he needed to make you scream, and hearing that…I just,” he moves his hand to cup your face, softly moving his thumb over the bandage on your cheekbone. “You astound me, Sweetheart. Everyday,” he finishes in a whisper.

“I love you,” you say just as softly.

“I love you more,” he smiles, and you can’t help but smile back.

You lean forward, then. And he meets halfway, hand disentangling from yours so he can cradle both sides of your face as he sinks into the kiss. One of your own hands finds its place on his cheek and you sigh into his lips. This. This is what kept me alive, you think when he gently tilts your head. I love you I love you I love you. Thank you. With tears slowly drying on both your faces, you and Aaron revel in the comfort of each other. In the words you don’t have to speak, and the touch of the one you love. Through the worry, pain, and fear of the day, this is how it always ends. You and Aaron. Together. Safe. Loved.  

[marshmallowprotection]

Gardenia, et tu Polaris

Pairing: Choi Saeran/Reader, 707 | Choi Luciel/Reader

Description: Would you risk your soul to save someone you love? Would you give your eternal life if it meant that they could survive? For Saeran and Luciel, that isn’t a hypothetical question, and these twins torn apart by Heaven and Hell have no one to blame but themselves. Will the stars guide them back to life’s bountiful garden, or will they taste hellfire before they know what it means to have faith in something real?

Saeran x Reader 1 & Seven x Reader 2 [There are two Separate Readers. Choose your path.]

Word Count:  8883

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[Read On AO3]

Chapter Twelve

“Welcome, welcome. It’s nice to see you this evening. IF you’ll continue inside, drinks and other guests are waiting for you to start the evening’s affairs. There’s a lot planned for tonight so I hope you are here to enjoy yourselves. If you would like to drop off any of your kind donations ahead of time, you may speak with Miss Kang who is waiting just outside of the grand hall with our donation box. Thank you!” You said. 

It was almost like the sound of a bell chiming every hour on the hour. You knew what you had to say and what you had to do. It was just a matter of holding your head up and going with the confidence that was inside of you. You could be bubbly, sincere, and vibrant when you wanted to be. It just took the right amount of care to your needs to make it happen. You were hoping tonight so it was so easy to be in charge of everything. You were in charge of everything, though. 

Nothing had gone wrong and you had a contingency plan for anything if it didn't work out just the way it needed to. If there was something that needed to be done, you had made arrangements for it ahead of time so it would be easy to set it into motion the second that you got information. It was a part of the preparation to be prepared for anything. 

You were excited about the party. It was finally the day that you had been waiting for and everything had come together so wonderfully. All of the decorations, the refreshments, and guests had all come together. There was nothing but compliments and kindness given to you by everyone that entered to celebrate this event. It was bright, colorful, and right out of the page of your imagination. You weren't sure how you were able to do it with the amount of time that you’d been given but thanks to the help that you received from the team, it worked out just in the nick of time with a day to spare. 

Tonight was going to be amazing. It already felt like a dream that you couldn't quite place. You were dressed up, greeting guests, and doing what needed to be done as an event coordinator. You needed to make sure that everyone had a good time and the donation pool was found as needed. This party was important, not just because it meant that your job needed to be viewed by the boss himself, but because it was going to benefit a lot of people in the nearby hospital. It was the same one that had taken care of you. So, it made it extra special. 

You were not only giving back to the community in a way that felt right, but you were also making sure that the place that gave you a chance to live your life again was paid back and able to help anyone else in need. There were a lot of people that didn't have a lot of situational luck as you did. If there could’ve been anything done to make someone’s quality of life better with donations, then you were working to the grind to ensure that they got it. A day in the sun had made everything feel worth it once a week, but there were plenty that could’ve had other desires that were just as easy to get with help. 

Whatever it meant in terms of seeing what somebody needed to be happy, you didn’t care about how tough it might’ve been to make it happen for someone. 

With the right amount of funds and support, it wasn't impossible to make sure that people were taken care of. Anything could be possible if they put in the work. The right people just needed to be involved with the situation to make sure that it worked out. That's where this party came in. This was a chance to make sure that it was possible to see those things happen. It was an opportunity to know that things could be okay. In a world where things had become strained and fraught with tension, a night where it was okay was a rarity. 

But, it was needed for everyone to breathe fresh air. Everybody needed a moment where there wasn't the focus on the dread that existed in the back of your head. It was rare to have those moments but it was nice to have them all the same. It meant that you could slow down for just a minute and think of the good things that you were grateful for. Of course, you would have time to do that closer to the end of the party. 

It was working out the way that you had intended it and that was the crucial point. This wasn't just a party. This was about supporting people in need and making sure that everyone had a good time doing it. That was a lot harder than it seemed to be. Most people wouldn't realize the amount of work that went into making sure that everything went according to plan. Even the smallest of details could need a lot of extra care. But, you weren't as great as you are at the start. 

Once the party had started, it felt like everything was starting to work out as it needed to. 

Everyone was where they needed to be and there was not a single thing out of place. Nobody had made a complaint yet, and it seemed as though the guests were enjoying the atmosphere. You hadn't seen the inside of the party yet but you could hear the music and chatter coming from the other side of the hall. It sounded alive in there… as if the world was spinning around and around. 

You were rather excited to check it out when you got the chance, but you knew, for now, it was better for you to focus on standing by with the guests.

There were plenty of guests and you were happy to see them. There were some that you had personally set aside to invite that had arrived in style. It seemed odd to be on the end of party planning that let you not only design the set-up but allowed you to know who was coming ahead of time to join in on what’s been prepared. Jumin was forthcoming with his kindness on this assignment. He didn’t want to make a party that flourished underneath his name alone. He wanted to make something that would ensure any person that worked on the project was recognized for their hard work. 

Yes, there were a lot of clients and guests that worked with C&R at this party, but there were a lot of people from the hospital here, too. There were doctors, nurses, and even a couple of patients that made their way onto the guest list thanks to your careful planning. It was one thing to throw a party for those in need but it felt important to let in people who were on the receiving end of that donation. It opened the floor for future donations whenever the company did work. It also made things transparent for the goals of the company to the public. 

Of course, some people might’ve seen it as a morality grab to make Jumin Han look better, but even if some tabloids claimed it, it didn’t hold much value. He was always going out of his way to do things without receiving anything in return.

The company gained more business because he was one of the most empathetic people in the world, not because he was grasping at straws to make himself look like a better man to cover something up. It didn’t take much thought to discover that Jumin was just obsessed with the care of his cat and other people. He was only imposing when you only knew him as the head of C&R. Once you saw what was underneath, it was hard to think of him as imposing. It was hard to take somebody as a serious threat when you knew that he had been cooing over his cat an hour earlier. 

In his defense, she was a very cute cat. 

Now, that fact took some getting used to. With a smile on your lips, you greeted the last of the guests alongside your co-worker until the time came to close the doors. The building was to capacity already and the night had only begun. You closed up once you were sure that there were no late arrivals to the doors, but security assured you they would handle the guest list if anyone was unaccounted for when any stragglers stopped by. That took care of that trouble for the time being and it meant that you had some time to enjoy yourself before any speeches or presentations began.

What a relief, you thought. 

Finally! 

You had been trying to hold back your excitement all evening about how badly you wanted to have fun at the party, too. But, that was the price of being in charge. You had to be smiling and prepared to forgo your evening to ensure that everyone else had a good night. It was a small sacrifice in the long run. You didn’t mind, though. It just meant that you poured your excitement into getting everyone else excited for what was to come. 

With that, you headed towards the ballroom to join the rest of the party already in motion. You could see the donation pool was busy with guests, noting the pleased look on Jaehee’s face as she continued to work with the crowd. You gave her a small wave and she returned the gesture with a polite nod of her head. She was a vision in gold and warm neutrals, light-years away from the cat fur that she preferred to stay as far away from as humanly possible. She was enjoying herself in that space and you made a note to come and speak with her when the party rush calmed down. 

You turned around the corner and found yourself looking at the party. It was just like you imagined in the back of your head when you were thinking about how you wanted the room to look. There were a lot of bright golds and silvers twisting in the air overhead. It came together as a fusion of the past and a bright future. Your idea had been to make the place swirl between the designs of the early days of the company to the present, mixing in gilded colors that splashed against the walls. The regal colors made things feel classy but inviting at the same time. It reminded you of a glitzy party that you might get a chance to stumble into if you were daring enough to dip inside the manor just on the hill. 

It was almost like a well-kept secret. It was something that you wanted to be involved with the second that you got inside. You like you belonged to that environment for just a couple of hours. But, in the sense that you could breathe and feel like Cinderella instead of someone jumping over a fence to get inside of a Gatsby party. The lights and glamor were one thing, but it was another to feel like it was your time to shine and belong amongst the stars. 

You felt that way when you attended parties, and this was the first one that you’ve been to in a while since the last one had you working in the kitchen and on the floor with the rest of the staff to get the catering out. They’d been shorthanded and you didn’t mind pitching in since it was good to make an impression on the people that you worked with. It made that company feel like they could keep coming to work with you in the future even if there was a mistake that happened that they didn't account for. After all, a part of making these things work in the first place was knowing that you could foster good relationships not only with the clients but with the people that you were working with to make these things possible in the first place. 

It was crucial to ensure that you were working things from every angle possible. It seemed as though that was working out in your favor because everyone that you worked with so far were just as excited about this as you were. 

The only communication that you had heard thus far was about how great and respected the feedback was. You could see throughout the party that everybody was working as hard as they could. Everyone was in high spirits, and you were relieved. This was exactly what you wanted it to be and it was working out just right. Before everything had started, you felt like there was a pit in your stomach. You had done all of this work but at the same time, you couldn't stop the fear that maybe it wouldn't turn outright.

But, it was perfect already and you had pulled it off. You were proud of yourself and swayed through the crowds to get a better look at things. You stopped as you reached the end of the room where the windows remained high and allowed natural light from the moon to pour in. It was a night without a cloud in the sky. You could see the moon and stars. When was the last time that you had seen those? It had been raining a lot lately and by the time you were on your way home, you had to hurry through the streets since you didn’t want to keep Saeran or Polaris out in the cold since they’d offer to walk you to the car! 

The weather was cooperative. It felt like all of the pieces were finally together. It was silly, but it made you feel like this was the best night of your life. There were going to be plenty of nights like this in the future, and you know that you could count on that. With a deep breath, you ignored the urge to laugh and grin to stay professional. There was a part of you that wanted to jump up and down and scream in excitement. Oh, you were going to do that but you were at least going to wait until nobody was looking. 

“It’s an excellent party,” a voice spoke from your side and made you jump. You looked to the right to see that it was Jumin himself. “I've heard nothing but good things from our guests tonight. I knew I could put my faith in you. You've done a good job. You should be proud of yourself. This was no easy feat for you, but you’ve surpassed the expectations that everyone assumed of you. However, I am quite happy to inform you that we've been surprised by the number of donations. It has also surpassed our expectations. We’ve had a few guests donate more than they expected after speaking with a handful of your guests from the hospital.” 

That brought a smile to your face. It made you happy to hear that something you did was making a difference. You didn't think that it would do much in the long run, but you did it anyway because you knew it was worth it. There was always a shot that you could take, and it was better to take it than it was to avoid it. “Really? I'm happy to hear that. I wasn't sure if it would make a difference or anything, but it seems like it did. They're always in need of donations and consideration from the public, so this will help out a lot for some of the quality of life projects they’re trying to fund..”

“I see. Was that your main idea for inviting them in the first place? You wanted to ensure that people understood what they were giving to in the first place?” Jumin asked. It was a genuine question, and you understood why he was asking. “I’m sure you know how that can seem in the eyes of some people, correct?”

“Oh, of course, they do. I understand that there's going to be people out there that think this is a guilt trip or manipulation of some kind. But, that's not what we do around here. C&R is known for being compassionate and generous. People do good things like this all of the time without knowing where the profits are going. I think it's nice for them to know what good they're doing for people in need. There's a lot of benefit to knowing a face instead of an idea,” you said. 

“It feels more personal that way and it makes sure that nobody can turn their head to the problem. It's easier for people to avoid everything if they don't have a name or face for what's going on in the world. If you know someone or you've seen someone, it's not as easy to avoid it. Back when I was sick, I got a lot of kindness from strangers who didn’t know me and their kindness benefited not only me because I needed to feel like I was a person, but it allowed them to understand I was just as real as they are… and all I wanted was to see the sun again. Some people can empathize with that. But they don't know until they know.”

“I think as long as you don't parade people around and use them as props, people will understand that we're trying to do a good thing here. This isn't about trying to make us feel better. This is about trying to help people in need, right? So, I'm sure that they'll understand. Even if there are people who don’t get it yet. You just have to wait and listen to everyone. Since you’ve noticed higher numbers, I’m sure that it’s already started, sir.”  

Jumin chuckled. His response wasn’t immediate but he seemed to be thinking it over. It was a lot to say but it was something that you believed in like nothing else. As long as you were honest about those things then you knew that nothing could go wrong. Honesty was the best policy. He offered you his hand and you shook it. “I see what you mean, Mx. [Y/N]. Yes, that would be the appropriate response. I'll take that statement into personal consideration when I am speaking to your boss about your next promotion. We'll talk about it next week, of course. For now, enjoy the party. There seems to be no need for you to continue working when you should enjoy the part of yourself. Enjoy the fruits of your labor.” 

With surprise written across your face, you watched as Jumin left to speak with others at the party. It left you not only completely winded but surprised. If there was something that you were supposed to say, you weren't sure how to say it because you were left standing there with your lips agape and eyes wide. You probably looked like a fish out of water. But, at that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. 

 “...!” 

You’d never expected him to say that you were going to get a huge promotion or that this proved that your work was worth it. He took a calculated risk. You thought that you were going to get a pat on the back at the end of the night and that he would consider you in the future for any of the parties that he was planning on holding you never thought that he was going to think about giving you a position that would allow you to do that without him having to come to you first. 

It was the best night of your life! 

There was nothing that could get in the way of this. It was the first time in a long time that you felt like things were going your way. You didn't have anything to be afraid of and you didn't have to look over your shoulder. You got to do the things that you wanted to do without being afraid that you wouldn't have enough time to get it done. You had all the time in the world. This was exactly where you wanted to be. You were happy. You were happy, and you could say that with a smile on your face. 

This time, you couldn't hide the excitement. You could feel yourself grinning ear to ear. Your hands shook in front of you as you gave a tiny little cheer and spun around to look back at the dance floor where plenty of guests had congregated as the music continued to play. 

It was a lovely melody played deeply by the orchestra. It made things feel like a fairytale. Now, maybe that was a stretch but it was something that you went for; You knew that it would be entertaining, to say the least. If you came to a ballroom, you would want to feel that energy. You wanted to feel like you had stepped into a storybook. Okay, maybe that part was a little bit of a projection but it worked in a party-planning standard. 

“You look like you just received the best news of your life,” a familiar sound came from behind. You spun around to see Saeran standing in front of you. He was well-dressed, wearing a white suit with a Gardenia attached to the lapel. It brought the heat to your cheeks because you knew that he had done that on purpose. “I hope I’m not interrupting a moment, Gardenia. I just didn't know when would be the best moment to approach you for a dance.” 

“Uh,” you felt like your tongue was tied into knots for some reason. You smoothed down your hair just in case it had become messy. “Now would be a good time to ask me, I think. I don't have anything else to do right now. I mean, I would enjoy you if you wanted to do that sort of thing with me…. not that it is something that you have to do or anything. We’re both working tonight so there’s not a lot of time to enjoy things, so I understand if you’ve got a lot of better things to do right now. I mean, uh… you look handsome tonight.”

He chuckled. It sounds like the sounds of the Heavens once again. You didn't know what it was about him but every time he did that it made you feel like you were on cloud nine. He offered his hand, but there was a dusting of red against his cheeks just as much as there was on yours. “You look wonderful, as well. You glow underneath the moonlight. You've been working all night. You should have a few minutes to enjoy yourself. Would you give me the pleasure of enjoying those moments with you?”

“Of course,” you took his hand as offered and he swept you onto the dance floor with ease.

You were surprised how gentle and perfect his steps were. He swayed to the music like a God that knew what he was doing and how to make his next move before he made his first three. He was radiant with a world in his eyes that you could only imagine. That was the word that you would’ve used to describe a look on his face. He glowed when he looked at you. He kept saying that you had this energy about you that made you glow like the sun—

But when you looked at him like this, you realized that he was the one that was no different than the sun. There had always been something about him that made you feel that way. It might’ve been that he’d saved you the day he met you, but you couldn’t be so sure. He was a good guy. He wasn’t all that different from an Angel if you were being honest. There weren’t a lot of people like that in the world, so it was hard to forget his face. 

When you twirled around him on the dance floor, you didn’t have to think about anything. You could breathe again. The rest of the world had begun to fade from your mind as you focused on Saeran and the feeling that he inspired inside of you. The moonlight illuminated his face in a sea of people and it was the only thing that mattered. It was just like the pages from a story that you had read growing up, dreaming of a day where you might encounter someone who looked like a prince. 

Saeran didn’t know how much he fit the bill of one. His messy hair was combed neatly tightly with a hint of breeze to have ruffled it. You couldn’t help but wonder if Polaris had nagged him to take care of it before the party. There were always wisps in his hair that he couldn’t seem to remove, but that wasn’t the case tonight. There was a burning temptation to ruffle his hair just to make him look more like the way you’d see him from the start, but you found that you were too caught up in his eyes to think about that. You hadn’t realized how charming the golden irises were. 

Little flakes of gold were dancing in your vision… and the sun-kissed freckles that stained his cheeks made him look like he knew how to enjoy the day. How could you ever look away from him when he looked at you like that? Even the chuckle on his lips when you danced through the crowd was enough to make you feel wanted. You hadn’t known him for long but at the same time, it felt like you’d known him forever. Was that what it felt like to meet someone who shined brighter than the sun? Was that the feeling of knowing someone almost as if they were destined to meet you? 

You weren't the kind of person that believed in destiny or fate. You didn't think that things happened for a reason or that it was always going to turn out that way. The world was bound to change every day and it would never be the same as the day that had come before it. The world was always going to be changing and the things that you saw were always going to reflect something new. That was one of the reasons why you had been able to cope with reality. It wasn’t planned that you were going to get hurt and sick. It wasn’t planned that you were going to do anything. 

And yet, the fact that Saeran looked at you? It made you feel like there might have been something to that feeling. Maybe it wasn't exactly about being forced into doing something or being someone that you weren't. Maybe, there was a lot more to it than that. It was something deep down inside of you. It was a feeling that was hard to explain. It was a sensation that was foreign to you… yet, it somehow felt like something that you knew. It was a warm feeling. It was just like the sun. Which is why you couldn't help but think that that's what he was. 

It was electric. 

No, the feeling in your fingertips was electric. He was warm and inviting whenever he got this close to you, but it was so rare that he’d push your boundaries or buttons. He always let you decide what was a good amount of contact and what wasn’t. Though, a part of you wished that he would take action just a bit more. You wanted him to sweep you into his arms as cheesy as it sounded. He could handle that if he wanted to. You had been that close to him enough times to know that he could pull you against his chest with a smile on his lips. Oh, why didn't he do it? 

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” 

“It’s lovely. After all the rain we’ve had lately, I’m just happy to see the moon. I'm glad that I had the help of all of you to make this possible. I hope that you feel proud of yourself, too. This is something that we all did together and praise belongs to everyone.”

“Of course. But, you don't need to humble yourself. This was a design of your creation and we merely helped you see it to fruition. It's your brainchild. You're the one that left without this. We just helped you make it three-dimensional. There's been nothing but compassion about all the care that you took to make this a successful and accessible place.”

“You don't have to applaud me that much, y’know? If anything, I got lucky this time. Things don't always work out the way that we plan them to. Nothing's going wrong yet, but I'm not going to jinx myself. The thing about getting ready for these events is knowing that something could go wrong at any moment and it's important to be ready. I have some contingency plans worked out, though. I'm sure we don't need them. Just because it went right this time doesn’t mean it’ll always work out.” 

“That's a very realistic and humble answer. However, it doesn't sound as hopeful as you usually are. You always talk about the way that you plan these parties with care. You don't second-guess yourself when it comes to your decisions. You do what seems right for everyone that comes to a party, and that's a lot more important than everything going according to plan. I do think that's what’s admirable about tonight. It’s the fact that you believe in yourself, Gardenia.” 

Embarrassed, you gave a little shove to his forearms. It was embarrassing to hear his praise, but another part of you was so happy to hear it. You were relieved to think that he thought the world of you. You wouldn't admit it out loud but his thoughts mattered. “Well, thanks. I only believe in myself because I have people who believe in me. I don't want to let anyone down and I want to make sure that my second opportunity in life is worth it.”

“You’re living your life without thinking twice,” his voice was gentle as he spoke up. With one hand, he reached up and caressed your cheek. “That means that it’s a life worth living, I promise. You don't need to do anything spectacular to be worthwhile. All that you need to do is be yourself. You’re doing that as we speak, remember? You’re a gardenia in bloom that’s never shined brighter than you have tonight. If you can’t see it, I’ll let you know what everyone else can see. I see someone who has always deserved this chance regardless of what happened to them.” 

Your heart fluttered as he spoke. He had a way with words. He knew just what to say when you needed to hear it. It was like he was psychically in tune with what you needed to know. A part of you wondered if he could read your mind. He might have been good at guessing what you wanted to know, but it just felt so good to have somebody recognize that about you. You weren’t always sure that you deserved everything good that you found. It was hard to try to make sense of your life at the end of the day when you were alone. 

It was just a part of the past where everyone had told you that you were going to die because it was all a part of God’s plan. It was the part of you that you didn't like to think about. But, to hear somebody say the opposite of those things felt like such a weight off of your chest. 

Even though you'd worked through a lot of those feelings since then, some of them stayed when you were insecure. It was hard to shake them off. Tonight was a good night and you could feel the relief of Saeran’s warmth coursing through your veins. It made it feel like those worries couldn’t even see the light of day. 

“You know,” you said, leaning against his chest as the music had begun to slow down. “Someone else said something just like that to me once back when I was in the hospital. I can’t remember their face and I never asked their name… but I can remember their kindness. When nobody else would tell me that I was allowed to be upset and angry, they reminded me that I was allowed to enjoy myself when I felt overwhelmed instead of being forced to stay in bed all day. It sounded a lot like what you just said, Saeran. It’s funny. You remind me a lot of that person. It’s why I feel so safe with you… almost as if it’s like we’ve been friends for a long time.” 

Saeran was quiet, a tentative look on his brow as you gazed at each other, and a longing gaze burned in the air silently. These were the sorts of intimate things that were hard to think about. But, it was your truth. You like being close to him. It wasn't because he was just like that person, it was because he made you feel like you were a person. He made you feel like yourself again. It was hard to feel that way most of the time when you were focusing on trying to get everything back together. But, hanging out with him made you remember what the little things were like. 

All that you wanted to do was relish the moment. It was nice to be here with him, and you weren't sure how long it would be before you could hang out with him again like this. It wasn't like you were going to be able to work together again soon. He wasn't employed by the company. He was outsourced from another location. You liked being able to see him every day… but that wasn’t always going to be easy for you to do. 

So, you wanted to fall into his arms without thinking twice. You wanted to do the things that you wanted to do without thinking about repercussions. 

Saeran’s voice drew you from your thoughts as you looked back at him and the stormy look in his eyes, “...What if I said we were?” 

“We were what?” you asked, confused. 

“That we’ve known each other for a long time?” 

“...?” 

      —

      Gardenia was on the dance floor with Saeran. Honestly, you didn't expect anything less from them. It was something that you wanted to see because it was worthwhile to both of them. Saeran loved them. He loved them more than he’d ever loved anything. He risked everything for them, and to be this close to them was a blessing. He was trying to toe the line between too much and not enough. There was a line that he had to draw. He could only have so much before it was just enough to make someone suspicious. 

It was something that you were angry about. Love was the purest thing in the world. He wanted them to live a long and happy life. He didn't want them to die. This was a punishment for him in many ways. Even though things seemed to be working out the way that you wanted, there would always be a line. He would never be able to have a day where he could be close to them. This would be the end. He probably told himself that, too. There was a strong chance that if this worked out, God would let them live, but—

He would keep Saeran away from them. 

You could see Him making a stipulation. It was no different from how readily and easily He said that He would get rid of Luciel. As long as it went the way that He wanted, then He was going to make the narrative what He wanted it to be. You could win the battle but you wouldn't win the war. That was the hard realization. So, it was nice to see the two of them close together, but it also felt bittersweet at the same time. There was no way of knowing if they would have another night like this. It just wasn't fair when you thought about it. 

Saeran was enjoying this like it was the last night of his life. He knew that you were doing this because you wanted to prove something to the Father, but he had no idea what you gambling. You didn’t have the heart to tell him about Luciel. Not only because Luciel told you that he didn’t want his brother to know the truth, but because you didn’t want him to know what could happen if the mission failed as you tried to complete. There was the chance that Luciel could be erased from the universe, and if he’d known that, it would’ve complicated things. 

It was hard enough for him to be around Gardenia. You imagined if he thought that he was losing not only his love but his brother again, it would’ve broken him. You didn’t want that. You wanted to help him find himself again. You wanted his brother to return to Heaven where he belonged, and you knew that if you could do this, it would ensure that change could come. God would have to acknowledge the risk you took and what it meant. Gardenia was proving themselves without fear in their heart, and you knew that it meant something. It meant something because fate was turning in their favor. The life the fruit had given them was more than worth it. 

But, the party was going as planned. There was nothing that could destroy it. Jumin and the rest of the Angels that had dropped by earlier had said it themselves that this party was a success. It was something to celebrate. God would know that you had fought Him tooth and nail without second-guessing what you wanted, and He couldn’t turn down your victory. A promise was a promise, and if He wanted to be the man that He claimed to be, He would have to hold up his end of the bargain. There was no way for him to take back what he’d promised you at the start. 

There would be no honor in Heaven if you were denied. 

What would Heaven be without the promises made by God? 

God would keep His end of the deal. You weren’t going to let Him deny it. Once you knew that Luciel was safe in Heaven once again, you knew that you’d be able to breathe. It would be the start of the rest of the goals that you wanted to foster. You wanted to fight for the right of Angels to be involved with humanity more consistently, and you wanted no punishment for others that acted on their own to do what they had to do for their human. There was no sin in loving someone, not even loving a human on Earth who deserved their chance. 

Saeran’s love for Gardenia was pure. It was as warm as the light of the sun, and you could feel it even though it wasn’t your feelings. You wished that you could do more for them but there wasn’t anything that you could think of that would allow their relationship to go much further than this. Saeran told you that he was okay with being their guardian and watching over them. But, you could tell that he’d dreamed of holding them in his arms. It wasn’t just a puppy crush. He was in love with them, and as far as you could tell, Gardenia was infatuated with him now. 

They could sense that he was the same person that they’d spoken to in the past. Even if Saeran’s face and voice weren’t the same as the one that he used to speak with them, they could tell. It was written within the way they looked at him. It didn’t make sense in a reasonable light, but you decided that logical explanation wasn’t going to follow you the minute that you woke up with wings on your back and a halo on your skull. 

You wondered if there was a chance that you could do more research on the effects that the apple held on humans. It healed Gardenia enough that they could escape an early death, but it didn’t remove the body they had of everything earthly pain. It extended their life, but you weren’t sure for how long that would be. Would they live to be an eldery human well above the rest? Would they die earlier than they expected but longer than the original death sentence? What happened when they died? Did they join the other souls or did they experience what you did? 

Did they become an Angel? 

Did they settle in their personal Heaven? 

Did they get to rest? 

Could Saeran visit them? 

It was a lot to think about, frankly. But, you shook those thoughts from your head for the time being. You were trying to focus on one thing at a time. It was only the first night. You could deal with your bet and then think about what you needed to do to help Saeran. For the time being, you were trying to enjoy your break. You had been working the donation pool with Jaehee since the start of the party but one of the other workers had offered to take your place so that you could take a look around the party and enjoy yourself. There were all kinds of guests. 

The most surprising guests you’d seen in the crowd were the handful of celebrities. You’d never been up close and personal with people like that in your human life, so it was interesting to see what things were like on this side. It was like walking into the Met Gala. You could’ve never imagined being at the same party as music, movie, or even theater stars. Jaehee had mentioned that she was excited to speak with Zen if she got the chance. You weren’t sure how well that would go given the fact that Zen and Jumin were known to butt heads for whatever reason. 

Oh, well, you knew that Jumin wasn’t going to make a fuss tonight. It was too important for him to cause a problem. You imagined that might’ve been an ego thing. It didn’t make sense for him to get upset with a human for whatever reason. He was the level-headed Angel who got along with everyone because it was his duty to be honorable. Maybe he thought it made him appear more human if he had banter with someone. It certainly made sure that nobody thought he was too angelic for his own good. Weird, but it wasn’t the biggest problem in the world. 

What was a problem was how you couldn’t get Luciel out of your head. You weren’t supposed to think about him the way that you were. You weren’t supposed to close your eyes and imagine the feeling… of his hands pressed against your face and his lips burning their mark against yours. You weren’t supposed to desire a demon the more that you were. 

It wasn’t right. Even if you believed that he was good, even if you knew that you would be able to get him a spot back in Heaven, and even if you knew that it wasn’t going to be wrong forever if you fought hard enough… there was something taboo about it. Yet, you had a hard time fighting yourself about the urges. He was a charming one even if he was dangerous. He made you laugh and remember what it was like to have fun. That couldn’t be wrong. Yet, if God knew the truth, you knew that you’d be risking all your fates. 

You hadn’t touched him. You hadn’t kissed him. You hadn't broken any rules. But, you knew that God wasn’t forgiving as He seemed to be. The feeling of Luciel’s warmth was designed to beckon you inside of it. It was made to make you sin. But, was it a sin to love? Was it wrong to fight for someone you had love for? It was the same feeling that applied to Saeran and Gardenia. It couldn’t be wrong, it shouldn’t have been wrong, and you hated it. It was a fear, nonetheless, knowing that you needed to hold onto a feeling of hope while biting your tongue. 

What would Luciel look like as an Angel? 

Would his gold eyes still sparkle against the darkness? 

For some reason, you had a hard time trying to picture him as an Angel. You could only see him as the demon that beckoned you forward to join him. The same demon that made your heart in ways that it had never felt when you were human. You took in a breath and spun to look back around the room to see the crowd, only to pause when you saw familiar swimming in the sea of people. It was Luciel in a human disguise. You could see him clearly but you could see that he was out of place. He was wearing the right outfit to be there, but something about him felt off. You knew that you needed to speak with him before someone noticed. 

God was watching tonight. 

You felt your legs carrying you across the room quickly, brushing past people without thinking to catch up with him. You caught him by calling out his name, and he looked over at you stunned that you had stepped. Darkness was masking his face in a way that you couldn’t explain. It almost made you feel like you needed to recoil. The demonic energy that was seeping out of him was unlike anything that he had ever shared with you before. You had no way of knowing if anyone else could feel it. 

It was like the beast was about to burst free from the gates and chase down the villagers. The dense fog made you feel out of breath. Your voice was hesitant, “Luciel, what are you doing here tonight?” 

The saturated look didn’t disappear from his face. It remained bleak and grim. But, a smirk crossed his face as soon as he realized it was you standing in front of him. He spun around to face you and bowed his head. “You couldn’t blame me for wanting to enjoy the party. There’s no way that you can keep a demon from an event filled to the brim with humans just waiting to be corrupted.”

He sounded serious. 

“You don’t need to pretend for me. I know that’s not really what you do, Luciel,” you whispered. You felt the need to glance around to make sure that nobody was looking at him. “You shouldn’t be here. I need to make sure the party finishes perfectly if I want to ensure that God brings you back. It’s almost over. You just need to wait a little longer.”

“Poor, naïve little Polaris,” he cooed. It was a patronizing remark. The glove that he was wearing on his hand allowed him to reach out and caress your cheek. “You know I’m a monster. I think it’s cute that you keep thinking otherwise. You should stop fighting fate, feathers. There’s no changing the past and God won’t let me back in. So, tonight will be the night where we stay what we are. Stay out of the way, alright? It’ll be easier that way. I don’t want to hurt you right now. Get out of here.” 

The words that were leaving his mouth were a threat. But at the same time, he was warning you that you needed to stay away from him. It sounded like he conflicted with himself. Almost as if he wasn't in control of his actions. You weren't sure, though. But something wasn't right about this. You didn't like the feeling in the back of your head. He never tried to touch you before. He always let you know that the risk was too high. Without warning, you pulled him onto the dance floor by the fabric of his shirt since that was safe for you to touch, and you wouldn't let go of him. He had no choice but to let you sway him against the music.

The burning ire inside of his eyes made you quiver but you refused to step back from him. He decided to play around, moving quickly to the tempo of the music to let you have your moment. You spun around the dance floor with him. It wasn't the kind of dance you dreamed of. It was like you were fighting the devil himself when you pushed against him and he pulled you away. There was something about it that left you gasping your air. You wanted Luciel badly, but you were burning at the fact that he was trying to do something that you couldn't stand. This wasn't the man you knew, demon or not. Something was wrong with him. 

You narrowed your eyes, “You know me better than that. I'm not going anywhere. I made a promise and I'm going to keep it. What's wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I’ve only accepted my fate. Damnation is all that awaits me and it’s the price of my crimes. I have to fix it. I have no choice. I have to do it,” he said, voice dripping in rage and frustration. “You can't stop me, either. You just need to go back to where you belong. This wasn’t your problem, to begin with. It has to end with us. You need to stay in Heaven where they should’ve let you roam free. But, no, they lied to you because they don’t want you to realize how powerful you are.” 

“...What?” You asked, confused.  

Luciel laughed. Just as the music hit its highest point, you felt him invade your space and stop. You were on the edge of the crowd but there was nobody close enough to hear or feel the way his breath kissed your face. His fingers twitched and he looked across the room before he had to look back at you, eyes trembling. “It’s because you’re an Angel that has the same rank as Michael. You’re not an Angel like the rest. Do you want to know why they let you do what you please? They don’t want you to realize that you were born as strong as an Archangel.” 

What did he mean? 

You were as powerful as Michael?

He shook his head. With a bittersweet smile on his lips, he pushed you away from him. You were still dazed and confused but he wasn’t listening anymore. You could see his demon power pouring off his body as he spoke, his fingers trembling as he lifted his hand towards the sky and pointed directly at the chandelier that hung above the crowd. “For what it was worth, I’m happy that someone as shining as you believed in me. But, the Devil is my master now and I cannot stop myself from following through with her orders. No matter how much I wish to kill myself for what I must do. Thank you, [Y/N], for being the Angel that I always wanted to be. If you can, make sure that Saeran and Gardenia are reborn as humans so they can truly be together. You have that power.” 

He was going to drop the chandelier on top of the crowd. 

The Devil ordered him to kill them! 

Something inside of you snapped in an instant. Your magic surged against your body and you unleashed your angelic form, gold glittering around you and burning against your skin like the freckles that Luciel had described. Your wings sprang from your back and cascaded around you. You weren't sure why but you felt the burning power inside of you and wanted to use it. You didn't know how and you weren't sure what to do, but you knew that you had to do something. If he was right and you were powerful, you could stop from doing something against his will. Devil or not, this wasn't the man you knew. 

You shouted as the magic began to spark from his fingertips. Ignoring the fear of the unknown that burned inside of you, you sprang forward and grabbed his wrist to redirect his magic. But it was too late to stop it from happening. Your magic was burning at your fingertips but you couldn't do anything. You didn't know how to use it. The demonic magic crashed into the lights and in slow motion, you could see the ceiling start to crumble, and the horrified faces of the crowd standing in front of you began to realize the disaster. Luciel stopped as soon as the holy power began to burn in your hands but it was too late. Even if he had woken up, he couldn't stop the magic. Gardenia’s fearful face and Saeran’s shocked expression burned into your eyes. But just as soon as it looked like they were going to be harmed—

Saeran’s angelic figure appeared from the darkness that had overtaken the room. He swept Gardenia into his arms and made a protective barrier around the two of them. His wings spread across his back and his magic hummed around him. His quick thinking had pushed some humans out of the way to protect them from major damage but it wasn’t enough to stop glass and metal from scattering across the room and injuring people who hadn’t been able to move out of the way. His magic could only do so much to stop this. 

The discordant music stopped. 

People screamed. 

Fate laughed in your face. 

Horrified gasps erupted across the room, too. Confusion was everywhere. Worst of all, it seemed to be as though all the hurt eyes were afraid of the angel that stood in front of them. Saeran was okay, but he was in shock. You could see Gardenia clinging to him but in a daze, almost as if they couldn’t believe it to be true. There were blood seeping from their face but they seemed to be okay apart from a couple of gashes. Saeran had took the brunt of the weight. He managed to use his magic to stop it from completely hurting the two, but it was obvious that even with a magical barrier, he was gritting his teeth to stop worse from happening. This was bad. This was very, very, very bad. But that wasn’t the dangerous part, that was the fact that Saeran had made eye contact with you and saw Luciel standing with you. 

“Saeran…” Luciel’s broken voice was the only thing you could hear amongst the panicked crowds and crying guests. There was shock in his eyes, relief, and other emotions that you couldn't identify at that moment. His demon form was in full display now. It seemed as though when you touched him, it undid the magic that he used to conceal himself as human. You were in shock but even though you felt light in your hands, it wasn't burning him. You were holding onto his wrist tightly and nothing happened. He wasn't dying and you weren't hurting him. You weren't dying and he wasn't hurting you. That had been a lie. You could've always touched him. He could've touched you. 

Saeran was looking at Luciel with an unreadable expression on his face. You could see how he barely stood with Gardenia bracing him from collapsing against the ground. Tears in his eyes and confusion burning at his lips, “Saeyoung?” 

But the crowds weren’t going to rest. The room had become filled with something saturated in evil and malice. It had to be from the manipulation of the magic that Luciel had set free into the room when it destroyed the ceiling and anything hanging above. 

“MONSTER! There’s a Monster!” 

[myaimistrue]

inspired by this amazing art by @punkcakez and my absolute love for jack and claire :) 

cross-posted on my ao3 here

“I hope you two are proud of yourselves.”

Claire and Jack glance at each other, and then back at Dean and Jody in such perfect coordination it’s like they planned it.

“We are, actually,” Claire says, cocking an eyebrow up. Dean is reminded so much of himself at her age that for a second, he forgets how pissed he is. “The ghost’s gone. We took care of it.”

“People were dying, Dean,” Jack pipes up. “We saved lives.”

Claire grins at him. “Exactly, bud.”

“Not with any discretion, unfortunately,” Jody says. Her arms are folded tight across her chest, and Dean’s glad he’s got her as back-up here—the woman’s terrifying when she’s angry. “Do you have any idea the kind of favors I had to call in to keep you two from being charged?”

“It’s part of the job, Jody,” Claire says nonchalantly. “Shit happens. Sometimes you get caught.”

Dean makes an indignant sound. “Shit happens? Shit happens like going on another hunt without telling us, when we thought you were on your way home? Like being seen by a cop in the middle of a salt and burn, hopping a fence to escape, being caught anyway, and breaking your brother’s arm in the process?” He motions to Jack’s brand new cast, which is bright pink and will probably be covered in signatures sooner rather than later. “That ‘shit’ doesn’t just happen.”

Claire does look upset when she glances at Jack’s arm, and that’s enough to make Dean deflate a little. But only a little. “It’s not your fault he got hurt,” he adds softly. “But you two have to be more careful. You have to tell us where you are.”

“Imagine if that hadn’t been a cop. Imagine that was some kind of monster, a vamp or something,” Jody says angrily. Her voice wavers so briefly Dean wonders if he’s imagining it. “We wouldn’t even know where to look for you two. You’d be dead before we ever figured out you weren’t on your way home.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Claire and Jack look at each other again.

“We’re sorry,” Jack says quietly.

“Yeah.” Claire’s voice is so low Dean almost misses it. “Yeah, we’re sorry.”

“You’ll be more careful next time?” Dean says.

They both nod.

“And you’ll have the sense to tell us before you start a new hunt?” Jody says with a layer of exhaustion. “I mean, come on, Claire, you know better than that.”

Claire looks down at her lap. “I know.”

Jody and Dean glance at each other, and then at the kids. They let them stew in the guilt for another moment. And then Jody says, “Well, that’s enough of that. Claire, we’re heading home. You two are benched for the next couple weeks.”

“What?” She says incredulously. “That’s so unfair! I’m an adult, you—”

“Don’t argue.”

“But—”

“Claire.”

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t say anything else. Dean has the sneaking suspicion the conversation isn’t over. “Fine. Fine, whatever.”

And then Jack looks at Dean. He seems nervous, and Dean knows exactly why. “And are we... are we going home?”

“Oh, we’re going home, alright,” Dean says. “Your dad just got back. I’m sure he’s going to be very interested in hearing about all this.”

“Please, don’t tell Cas,” Jack says anxiously.

Dean laughs. “No way, kid. You’re just lucky I haven’t told him yet—you think he’d go as easy on you as I have?”

Jack sighs. “I guess you’re right.”

“I am.” Dean looks between him and Claire again, and can’t help but crack a smile. “Y’know, you two are still in trouble, but I know what it’s like to be hunting young like this. I got arrested plenty of times—mistakes happen. Just… like we said, just be more careful, alright? And tell us where the hell you’re going.” He looks right at Jack and levels his best disapproving look at him. “I don’t pay for your phone for you not to use it.”

The kids both nod again. Beneath all his frustration, Dean is struck by how much they look like Cas, how much they remind him of himself and Sam as kids, and the affection is so strong it almost knocks the wind out of him.

Fortunately, Jody’s a stronger person. Her Mom Look is truly frightening as she casts it at them both one last time. “Come on. Time for the grounding of the century to start.”

Claire rolls her eyes. Jack frowns and looks down at his cast.

God, these kids are gonna be the death of Dean.

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Seven)

Chapter Seven: Sweet Fulfilment

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

The silence that fell upon them in Rossi’s backyard was so heavy, no one dared to break it. Derek was brave enough to stand and follow Y/N into the house, most likely to drive her home. The rest received the message and began to dwindle away, until only Ashley and Spencer were left.

Spencer absentmindedly fiddled with the top of his cane, still stunned into silence from Y/N’s heavy confession. He could feel Ashley’s eyes on him, but didn’t bother looking at her. His mind was racing ten times faster than it ever had before.

Ashley breathed out a sigh and kept it simple and straightforward, “Do you love her?” She asked softly. 

He wished to hear some malice in her tone, thinking it might make him feel something other than shock, but all he heard was curiosity. He didn’t even have to think to find the answer, but which answer was he willing to give?

“Yes.” He said, not even having the audacity to see the reaction it brought upon her eyes. 

He should have felt horrible for hurting Ashley, but he couldn’t bring it upon himself to feel anything but relief as he replayed Y/N’s words in his head. He heard her move to stand up and remained motionless as she left him on the couch. She went inside and Spencer deduced that she’d probably already taken her car and returned home. He’d have to find a different ride home but that was the least of his problems right now.

No one knew what to tell him as he passed them in the spacious living room a half hour later. No one knew where to start with him, but their unrelated hushed conversations continued on. Y/N had stupefied them all, but him especially. His heart should have been soaring because of her confession, but he knew he’d have to give Ashley a proper goodbye. She deserved one, even though he had quite literally used her in the most ungentlemanly of ways. He hadn’t let themselves get too invested in the relationship, though. He’d always kept her at arm’s length for fear of getting too attached. 

The next day, he’d promptly gone to her apartment and given a heartfelt apology. She’d let him know how hurt she was and that she was not going to be returning to the BAU. He still felt bad, but once again, he felt like he could breathe. Like the air knew its way back to his lungs. 

The weekend came and went, silence on both ends. Both lovers just stewing in their own pots. Both pots teeming with unadulterated, unconditional love and affection for one another. It could barely be contained at this point. Time seemed to float by and before they knew it they were back in the office. A new month had just begun. She felt new, she felt like she’d peeled off a layer of her skin, one that had been holding her back, trapping her within the confines of herself.

With the new month, she was called in early to have the routine monthly meeting with Hotch where they went over the itinerary of the next month. They liked to plan whatever they could given that half of the BAU’s job was unpredictable.

“So, I have here the form that Strauss asked for. Also, the 6th floor’s printer is a literal piece of junk and I’ve typed up a formal proposal so that maybe we could get a new one? I coordinated with Penelope about the funds and she says there are sufficient funds for a new printer.” Y/N said, handing Hotch a typed document. 

Even after all these years, her dedication to this job continues to blow him away. He’d come to see her as a work-daughter. He has taught her so much over the past few years and he’ll always have a special place in her heart. He nodded, glancing over the document.

“Great, I trust you and Penelope will pick an adequate printer.” He paused, sending her a smile. He noticed the slight glimmer in her eye, “I know you’ve been having a rough few months, Y/N, and it’s not technically my place to get involved in your personal life, as your boss, but as your friend, I hope you know that I am available to help you in any way I possibly can.”

Her whole face formed into a fond smile, “Thanks, Hotch and yes, I know.” She chuckled slightly.

“You are a dedicated employee and a wonderful person. If you ask me--” He was interrupted by his office door slamming open, showcasing an absolutely beaming Dr. Spencer Reid in the doorway.

“Hotch, I am so sorry to interrupt your meeting,” Spencer’s eyes flew from Hotch to Y/N, his attention now zeroed in on her. He leaned into the office, not fully entering, “are you free for dinner tonight?” he asked in a rushed manner, as if not getting a fast answer would somehow make him lose all the confidence he’d mustered up.

“M-me? Yes! I mean, yes, I’m free tonight.” Y/N answered, flustered at the interruption as well as the question. Spencer’s face split into a grin and he tapped the doorframe once awkwardly.

“Great, then...it’s a date.” He raised his brows and tried to lessen his grin as he snuck a glance at Hotch before gracelessly forming his lips into a line and scurrying out of the small office.

Y/N turned back to Hotch quickly with eyes widened with disbelief and a face totally failing to contain the utter joy she felt, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Hotch only responded with a knowing smile at the precious interaction he’d just witnessed firsthand.

First dates were supposed to be awkward, however, their first date was anything but. Spencer had showed up with a fresh haircut, his shoulder length hair cut into a dreamy, swoopy style that sat along his forehead comfortably. It was so much more attractive than Y/N could outwardly-or inwardly- admit. His knee was now fully healed and no longer needed his cane which allowed them to walk around the city freely.

They’d both realized how stupid and blind they’ve been over the years. Y/N confessed to feeling especially stupid for staying with Anderson for so long, even when she had realized her true feelings for Spencer. Time had passed them by like it was nothing. 

Spencer, like the true gentleman he is, insisted he’d walk her home. He’d feel more comfortable knowing she was safe, not to mention that he was extremely curious about her new apartment. He hadn’t expected Y/N to invite him in, but of course she did, because that was who she was. She was warm and inviting, and if she was being honest, she didn’t want the night to end yet.

“I’m sorry about the mess, I haven’t really been in the right headspace these past few weeks.” She said, walking him inside. He took a look around and noticed a few unpacked boxes out of place but he definitely wouldn’t characterize it as messy. 

He chuckled softly and shrugged, “Trust me, it’s fine.” Her shoulders dropped with relief slightly and she returned his lightheartedness by smiling and flopping onto the couch.

“It’s been so long since I’ve lived on my own. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the silence.” Y/N said, but only realized how sad it must have sounded after she said it. Spencer took a seat next to her on her small, but comfortable couch.

“I feel quite the opposite, I think I’ve been living on my own for--for a long time.” He said, thinking back to his days but pushing away the especially dark parts. 

She dared to glance at him, seeing him in her space was so...different. So refreshing. It’s like this apartment needed Spencer in it for it to feel complete. Or maybe that was her heart speaking. Maybe both the apartment and her heart needed Spencer to feel whole. Her glance had long been forgotten and had turned into a longing gaze instead.

“Spencer, I-” She gazed at him, feeling the words get caught up in her throat before she could have had the chance to voice them. Besides, what words would ever be able to convey the way she felt towards him? 

Words escaped her when he looked at her like that--all soft eyes and a fond, lopsided smile, despite his curiosity at her interrupted sentence. She made the mistake of glancing at his lips, the lips that were so appealing, practically calling her name. The ones she’d caught herself daydreaming about for years and years on end. His proximity was intoxicating and before she could doubt herself, she closed the gap between them, her hands attaching themselves to the lapels of his blazer to pull him ever so slightly closer.

His lips were just as warm and inviting as she’d remembered them, but this time the kiss tasted sweeter, it was no longer tainted with suppressed guilt and confusion. His lips tasted like certainty. It was clear that she’d finally found what she’d been missing all these years. The gentle push and pull of the kiss was invigorating to them both. His slightly calloused hands found her flushed cheeks, each thumb delicately caressing the delicate skin beneath the pads of his fingers. They’d savored the kiss so much that when they pulled away, two, three, four tender, short kisses followed the initial one.

Almost as if they’d never get enough of each other. Like if the world was ending, it wouldn’t matter, they’d go peacefully, knowing that this is what it was like. That this is what quenched thirst felt like.

“I love you.” She murmured against his lips, breath uneven. She’d known it for as long as she could remember and he’d known it too, but she was past the point of timidness to admit it now. There’s no use in prolonging it, not when she was this certain. 

The pad of his thumb traced a line across her jaw slowly as he heard the words. His face couldn’t contain his smile, teeth almost clashing into each other from their closeness. His warm, amber eyes flitted to hers, visible comfort and reassurance filling his irises. He was transported back to Rossi’s garden when he’d first told her he loved her. She knew, she knew he loved her too, which is why it was so easy.

“I love you, too.” He murmured back, pressing another passionate kiss to her lips, as a quiet admission of love. She could feel the tears gather underneath her closed lids almost as quickly as relief flooded her chest.

They’d decided to keep things under the radar for a while, neither of them too eager to showcase their relationship to the world just yet, excluding Hotch of course. They did their best anyway--or at least they thought they did. Their recent smiley faces and cheery attitudes were not invisible to America’s top profilers and well, Penelope, who was perhaps the sharpest of them all, despite not being trained to analyze behavior like the others.

Exactly two weeks after their first date, Penelope cornered Y/N at her desk around lunchtime, right before the two lovebirds took their daily lunch walk. 

“Spill.” Penelope demanded, her colorful teapot earrings swayed, contradicting the sternness in her voice.

“What are you talking about?” Y/N gazed up at her with genuine confusion.

“Uh-uh, don’t give me that. I know something fishy is going on. I can smell it.” Penelope leaned in closer and began pointing fingers. Y/N barked a laugh.

“Garcia, nothing is going on. Please tell me what you’re talking about.” She laughed, amused at the sight of her friend being so outwardly nosey.

“You think I haven’t noticed you and Boy Wonder--” She was interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat noise from Spencer to announce his presence.

“Garcia, Derek said something about making hot chocolate in the kitchenette and you know how he dips the sugar spoon back into the chocolate mix? Yeah, you should probably--” Spencer lied through his teeth but Penelope wasted no time in rushing off to the kitchenette, groaning about how she hated finding extra sugar in the chocolate.

Spencer caught Y/N’s eye and they both burst out laughing. They quickly made their exit, whispering about how close of a call it was with Garcia. Little did they know, Rossi had caught every little bit of the very tender, intimate kiss they shared before the doors of the empty elevator had closed, leaving him shaking his head at the obliviousness of the two. 

The team decided to make a game out of it very quickly when they all realized. They wanted to see which of them could expose the couple the quickest.

 JJ found extreme joy in trying to set Y/N up with one of Will’s friends right in front of Spencer.

“Come on! This guy’s totally your type, Y/N.” JJ pushed, showing her a picture of a man on her phone, leaning towards her over the top of her desk. Y/N laughed uncomfortably and glanced with panic at Spencer who was watching curiously.

“I don’t know, I d-don’t think I have a type, JJ.” She tried to brush her off, continuing to laugh in discomfort. Emily and Derek almost split their lips as they bit them to try and keep from laughing. They watched Spencer shift nervously in his seat.

“I’m just not interested.” Y/N said, “Thanks, though.” JJ finally gave in and accepted that she’d lost the bet.

Emily tried her hand at “girl-talk”, hoping that maybe Y/N would slip up and tell her about Spencer, but to no avail. That woman’s lips were sealed shut.

Derek and Penelope both tried to follow them around but Spencer and Y/N were far too cautious at work now. Derek actually had to convince Penelope to take the moral high road and refrain from tracking their devices or hacking into their messages.

After trying and failing for so long, the team finally gave up on trying to rat them out and instead decided to respectfully wait for their announcement. 

Y/N realized that she hadn’t technically invited anyone over to her new apartment and decided to throw a somewhat delayed “welcoming party” for herself. She’d cooked dinner, which Spencer did his best to contribute to, decorated the place nicely, and invited the whole team over.

“Thank you all so much for being here. I know this has been a long time coming. I’ve missed our little get-togethers and thought it’d be fitting if I finally host one, given that I now have my own apartment.” Y/N spoke from her place at the head of the dinner table which had barely ever been used before this night. It was a tight squeeze, but her heart soared as she saw the faces of her caring coworkers and friends staring up at her. They all lifted their glasses and gave her a silent toast of appreciation.

Spencer stood from his seat that was to the right of Y/N’s and cleared his throat, “Also, we have an announcement to make.” He timidly began, catching the eager smiles. “Y/N and I are, finally, together.” He waited for the cheers of excitement but nothing but an eerie knowing silence befell the dinner table.

Something clicked in Y/N’s brain as she spotted Rossi handing Hotch something under the table not-so-discreetly, “You all knew?!” She gasped in disbelief. The team broke out into fits of laughter.

“The whole time!” Garcia guffawed. Spencer and Y/N shared a look of incredulity before breaking into laughter themselves. Y/N shyly hid her face in Spencer’s shoulder as he wrapped an affectionate arm around her back.

“You guys thought you were so sneaky.” Derek threw his head back, laughing.

“Wait, so what was all that about?” Y/N asked, referring to Rossi handing Hotch something, “You guys had a bet going?”

“Technically there were two bets going. Everyone else was determined to expose you, which they all failed at, thankfully, while Rossi and I had a separate bet. I said that you’d announce it first and Rossi apparently had more faith in the team.” Hotch explained, smirking triumphantly at Rossi, who appeared delighted despite having lost the bet.

“Bet or not, you two deserve each other. I’m glad you two are happy together. To the lovely couple.” Rossi raised his glass and everyone followed in pursuit.

Spencer turned to Y/N to place a sweet but chaste kiss on her lips, leading everyone to cheer in response.

There was little he could compare to the feeling he had then, but if he had to, he’d compare it to being whole.

previous chapter/epilogue

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