#no sir we have enough angst in canon

[juniperskye]

Who Are You Again?

Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5336

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.  

Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.

*36 hours earlier*

“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.

“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.

“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.

“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.

The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.

As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.

You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.

The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy.  Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.

*Present Day*

“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.

“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.

“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.

*One year earlier*

“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.

“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”

You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.

“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.

“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.

“I love you.” Aaron said simply.

“What?” You were stunned.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.

After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.

Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).

*Present Day*

A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.

Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.

In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.

*2 Weeks Later*

Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.

“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.

You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.

Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.

The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.

“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.

You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?

“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.

“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.

Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.

“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.

“Oh, okay.”

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.

*Hotch’s POV*

She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.

“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”

“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.

“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.

“Will her memory return?”

“It’s hard to say.”

While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.

*Normal POV*

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.

Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.

“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.

“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.

“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”

“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.

“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.

“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”

“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.

“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.

“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”

“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.

“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.

Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.

*Five Days Later*

“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.

He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.

“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”

“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.

The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.

When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.

“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.

“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.

“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.

“That’s great, thank you.”

The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.

Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves. 

He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.

When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.

You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.

“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.

Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.

“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.

“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.

“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”

Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.

These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.

Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.

You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.

*One Week Later*

Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.

It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.

“Hi Penelope!”

“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.

“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.”  You let out a low chuckle.

“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.

The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team. 

“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope

“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”

You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.

“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”

“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.

Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.

You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.

“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.

Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.

“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”

“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”

“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.

“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”

“If you think that’s best.”

You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.

*Two Days Later*

“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.

“Okay, what time should I come down there?”

“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”

“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.

“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.

You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.

A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.

“Hi Aaron.”

“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.

Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.

“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.  

Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.

You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”

“Thanks.” You smiled.

You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.

“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey Pen!”

“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”

You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.

“This should only take a few minutes.”

Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.

Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.

After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.

When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.

You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.

You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…

“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”

Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.

You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.

“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.

“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.

“That we were together.”

You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.

“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”

“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.

Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.

“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”

You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.

“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.

You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..

It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.

“I remember.”

[icarusredwings]

Getting deep into the x men fandom means seeing ships I don't agree with, so I don't interact, seeing posts that mischaraterizes one of the deepest charaters possible, so I don't interact, Seeing people actively say things that are blatantly wrong, so I don't interact.

Getting a large following is also kind of frustrating (Im not complaining I love you guys!) But I've had to block 2 people already today because they keep leaving rude replies to my comments on OTHER peoples posts or purposly come to my blog to tell me that how I view a charater is wrong. Had someone tell me that the stuff that happens in MY au is dumb because "that would never happen" like yeah bud. The writers at Marvel are too much of cowards for it to happen, hence why i'm here.

So my thing is... if im chosing not to interact with all of this- why is it still on my feed?

I feel like the more I ignore it the more I see and I do not wish to be the type to block someone simply because they make one post about a ship that personally isn't my cup of tea.

Also- I think Im starting to see the different sides of extremes, especially when it comes to one specifc charater.

Logan.

I have seen dozens of lovely stories, lovely rants, lovely head canons about this man-

But something that feels weird (to me at least) is people who are 45+ yelling at people who aren't even 18 that their story/headcanons are trash because they've "been enjoying Logan for 40+ years" as if this gives them any right to tell a 17 year old that they shouldnt write a charater how they see them.

It's also weird to me that there seems to be two sides.

Logan IS an animal and that's perfectly okay.

Or

Logan ISN'T an animal, and everyone who headcanons him as animalistic is fetishizing his mutation and are insulting him.

I get not liking a certain trope, but sir, that person is young enough to be your child. You have to accept that we all grew up with different versions of each charater. I Personally didn't grow up with any and get the luxury of indulging in all sorts of media all at once- therefore getting to see him from multiple sides and pictures.

I completely understand if you grew up with the original series and are upset to see that kids are headcanoning your stone cold angst biker man as wearing bow clips and 'making biscuits' on a pillow while watching gilmore girl with his boyfriend, and wearing pink fluffy hello kitty pants and a tight shirt that says "Milk"

I completely understand if you grew up with the movies and see him as a sexy gruff hot buff man and you love to write lots and lots of steamy x reader about him.

I completely understand if you LIKE logan wearing hello kitty pants and don't agree with the idea of him being a dark edgelord, lone wolf charater.

Do you know what I don't understand? Fighting over a charater when different timelines have been canon since the 80s. The Time Variance Authority (TVA) first appeared in Thor #372 (October 1986) which means ALL of your logans are the correct logan. Just not all the same.

Do I think Wolverine Orgins Logan would wear pink hello kitty pants? Nah.

Do I know that Deadpool and wolverine Logan is a whole different universe then Orgins Logan? Yes.

That's why people tag different logans and different aus. So what is all the fuss about?? What happened to the more the merrier?

Theres so many different versions of comic book logan, too, so don't even go there.

Feel free to ask my personal opinions but as far as I stand I could never be foolish enough to seriously go into someone elses post and genuinely be upset at them for how they perceive a charater. I get second hand embaressment when ever I see ANYONE doing it.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk. I don't care if I lose followers for this. Let the door hit you on the way out. There aint no reason to be harrassing folks.

[lovelywritinglady]

Crocodile Tears pt.2

Sir Crocodile x fem!reader, Doflamingo x fem!reader(siblings)

In which your life has gotten a little more complicated as your freakishly tall older brother comes back into your life.

Angst, reader is traumatized, fluff, curse words, violence. Slighy spoilers for Marine ford. Maybe out of character Crocodile and Doflamingo. May be some canon as well as non canon things.

The ocean shone brilliantly as the salty sea air whipped your h/c hair back softly. You stood on the front of the boat holding the railing that surrounded it, feeling the cool metal against your palms. You took a deep breath letting the salty air fill your lungs as your eyes still felt raw from all of the crying you had done the night prior. Your heart was still aching from recent events. You had once been the wife of a very powerful man and now you were just you and you knew that at some point, you needed to come to terms with that.

The reason you chose Dressrosa was because despite the history there, you needed to be in the comfort of your family. You desired to see your older brother even though he was a horrible person and a hardened criminal. You were an adopted by his parents as they desired to have a ‘normal’ child. You chuckled at that thought squeezing the cool railing a little bit harder as you felt fresh tears pricking your eyes once again. You started to hate yourself for wanting to see him, as he was the reason your parents weren’t here anymore. But you knew that he would welcome you with open arms, he did promise that after all. You just wish that you knew where your other brother was as he was more of the ideal person to be with. He was kind, smart, and someone you knew you could rely on. But your older brother would have to do for now, he was still family.

“We will be arriving at our destination in 1 hour.” someone on the loud speaker announced

“Well damn, that voyage was a lot quicker than I thought it be. Guess I should call Doffy.”You spoke to yourself as you admired the sea.

You reluctantly let go of the railings and began waking back to your room that was located in the middle of the ship. Once there, you sat on your bed that was hard and uncomfortable. You then took one look at your transponder snail giving it a small smile before grabbing it gently Reluctantly, you dialed your brothers number waiting for him to pick up as the sound of the transponder snail filled your tiny room. And soon enough, the transponder snail stopped with a click sound.

“Who’s this?” A gruff voice spoke

“It’s me, Doffy. It’s y/n.” You responded cringing at yourself for being so timid.

“Well, well. Hello there I was wondering when I’d get a call from you. ” He laughed out. “I told you that Crocodile was not good for you did I not.” Doflamingo spoke once more bit in a more serious tone fully knowing why you’d call him.

“I know.” You whispered feeling embarrassed

“I’m glad you know, sweet sister. Now tell me where you are so I can come and get you.” He said in a more gentle voice thing to coax you to him.

“Funny enough, in a boat right now on my way to Dressrosa. I’m about an hour away.” You replied with a nervous expression.

“Fufufu, good I’ll see you soon then. Are you just visiting or do you want to stay?” He asked slyly

“I’m not sure yet Doffy. All I know is that I need my family.” You admitted feeling too emotionally tired to hide your true feelings.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” Doflamingo stated as that sentence reminded you of the big fight the two of you had when you first started dating crocodile. You then sighed trying to push down the thoughts of your husband down. “See you soon, y/n.” Your brother added before hanging up.

“Shit. What the hell did I just get myself into.” You admitted to yourself before you began packing your things getting ready to see your big brother again.

One hour later

You had finally arrived to Dressrosa. Taking your first steps off of the boat felt like you were waking home. The familiar warmth and sight of toys filled you with joy. However, the sheer number of them shocked you as you defiantly don’t remember there being this many. Shaking your head, you decided to put it in the back of your mind as you were dedicated to one thing and one thing only; your brother.

You began looking around for him thinking that he might be here to get you. However, knowing Doffy, he was not the kind of man to do that. You shook your head that this realizing that it had been some time since you had officially seen him and you seemed to have forgotten some of his manurisums.

“Well shit, I guess I’ve gotta walk there.” You spoke to yourself.

And so you went in the direction of the castle that sat upon the plateau called the “Sunflower hill.” As you began your journey, suitcase in hand, you had walked out five minutes before you were surrounded by three men that seemed to be dressed as guards.

“Miss Donquixote, we are here to escort you to the palace by order of the king!” The guard in the middle declared handing me an official document with my brothers signature proving the legitimacy to this man’s words.

“I see. Thank you! Mind carrying my bags then?” I responded handing one of the other guards my suitcase before they could answer. I then walked past them desperate to get to my final destination.

“C-certainly!” The guard squeaked surprised at my boldness.

“Wait, miss Donquixote! We are suppose to escort you!” The last guard yelled

“Well escort me then I’m not interested in waiting any longer than I already have.” You snapped back not having any patience to deal with your brothers goonies at that moment. You then continued your fast pace not caring if they were actually escorting you or not.

“Yes ma’am!” All three of them responded as you heard them quicken their footsteps behind you. And soon enough they were in front of you “escorting” you to the palace.

After about an hour of walking, you had finally made it to your brothers palace. You smiled to yourself feeling surprisingly happy that you were going to see him after so many years. The palace hadn’t changed much since the last time you were here. With the exception of a few more shitty portraits of your brother.

“Miss Donquixote, please follow us to the throne room.” The guard holding your bag told you.

“Thank you!” You responded feeling slightly relieved that you were finally here.

The guard then lead you through a long hallway with red velvet carpet adorned with gold accents. The doors ahead that opened to the throne room was solid gold and stood wall length. The other two guards then stood on both sides of the doors. As the two massive opened you were greeted with the strange and malicious smile of your older brother; Donquixote Doflamingo.

“Too you long enough my sweet sister.” Doflamingo smiled crossing his legs as he sat upon his massive golden throne wearing his signature pink feathered coat.

“My bad, your guards got in my way.” You joked walking up to him with a small smile on your face.

“Fufufu I’ll deal with them later.” He spoke looking down at you with his smile never fading from his face.

“It’s good to see you brother.” You admitted not interested in starting any small talk with him knowing full well it would go absolutely no where.

“You as well dear one. It’s been so long. Why don’t we catch up in private?” He asked although knowing him, it definitely wasn’t a question. “Why don’t we talk in my office?” He added as he got up from his massive throne and began walking.

“Sure thing.” You responded as you followed.

Soon the two of you arrived to his office. Once there, the two of you sat across from each other in big office chairs. His looked perfect for him while your looked like it was about to swallow you whole. His office was huge and like the rest of the decor of the castle, it was adored with good trimmings and beautiful paintings. One of the paintings in particular caught your eye. It was a painting of you and both of your brothers. With them standing side by side with you in the middle. The sight of that painting made your heart ache. You hadn’t seem your other brother in an ever longer time than you had seen Doflamingo.

“He’s still missing y/n.” Doflamingo chimed in once he took notice you weren’t paying any attention to him.

“I know, it’s been far too long. I barely remember him.” You spoke seldomly

“What do you remember?” He asked as he leaned in closer to you.

“That he was kind, quiet, and extremely clumsy.” You replied reminiscing in your head about the time he somehow slipped sitting down. You chuckled at that thought which, not to your awareness, made Doflamingo jealous.

“Yes he was, but onto business.” He said doing his best to hide his annoyed tone and trying to give you a sweet and loving smile instead.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. What would you like to know?” You asked him leaning back into your massive chair.

“Everything, start from the beginning. I need to know how much that mother fucker hurt you and if I need to kill him or not.” He sneered smiling in anticipation.

“I’ll tell you everything as long as you agree not to kill him.” You responded quickly trying not to get your ex husband kill despite your hatred for him. You were so glad in that moment that you took on more of the personality of your other brother.

“Deal, just tell me everything.” He replied in an annoyed tone.

“Fine, so it all started about a little over a week ago…” You started.

Meanwhile…

The news of Arabasta’s war conflict coming to an end and Crocodiles reign over was sweeping the nation and the world by storm. The news that “white chase” Smoker of the marines had defeated the infamous pirate became one of speculation and pride to the Marines. The king was respected once more and the lost princess Vivi went back to her kingdom once more. It was a joyous occasion as the chains that held Arabasta captive were finally broken. However, there was one in particular that was not gladdened with the news; Sir Crocodile.

There he sat in a large Marine ship with sea prism stone cuffs on both his hands and feet. Blood still on his face from his recent battle with the rookie “Straw Hat” Luffy. Crocodile was defeated through and through. Both mind and body spent as not only did his plans fail, but the one thing he held dear to him was now gone too, due to his own personal failure. The area of the ship he was in was dark and smelled of rats and moldy sea water.

“Damn marines, don’t even know how to clean properly.” He spoke to himself with a raspy voice.

His head leaned forward as he tried to make himself comfortable in these shitty conditions. However, he had no luck as he was so use to his luxurious ways. His constant cigar was gone so he couldn’t even find a slight comfort in that. Crocodile then sighed feeling tired from the sea prism stone cuffs that he was bound in. As his power felt like it was gone completely. He hated this feeling, he hated being weak, but most importantly he hates knowing that he lost. He hates himself for the words that he spoke to you when he should’ve been kind to you. You were(are) his wife and he loves you more than anything.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He spoke softly to himself as though he was speaking to you.

Where were you now? Were you safe? Did you still love him? These questions kept repeating in his tired mind as he sat and sat for what felt like an eternity. He knew where he was going, but in that moment all his mind wanted to think of was you. Your smile, your eyes, your body, your kindness, your love. You were the only comfort he had in that moment and he knew that you’d be the only comfort he would have in Impel Down.

“What the hell is she going to think?” He questioned remembering that he had never told you the full extent of his plan and the full truth as to why you were in Arabasta in the first place. All he told you was that it was the best place for the two of you to make money and you accepted. “Shit!” He yelled out slamming his hand and hook down on the floor.

“Hey! Keep it down in there!” One of the marine guards called out to him. To which Crocodile glared at him making the marine guard shiver. “S-sorry!” He stuttered out.

“Whatever.” Crocodile spoke leaning back against the wall and sighing.

He knew he fucked up badly. He knew the chance of you taking him back as your husband was slim, but he didn’t care. He loved you in his twisted but genuine way. You were his and he was yours and he needed you back in his arms. You were his salvation is this fucked up world. Crocodile then in that moment, no matter what, decided he would find a way to be by your side once more and he simply didn’t care how.

“Prepare the prisoner for transfer to Impel down!” Another guard shouted to Crocodiles.

“Yes sir!” The marine saluted. “You heard him p-prisoner. Stand up!” The guard stuttered.

“Sure.” Crocodile smiled sending another wave of nerves down the guard’s spine.

Now that crocodile was standing he fully now realized just how tired he was. However, that didn’t matter now. Now, he would have to endure literal hell for god knows how long. But, he knew no matter how long no matter how much they would put him through in that place, it would be more than worth it just to see you once again.

“Y/n, I’ll find you my darling.” He whispered is mind returning to nothing but sweet thought of you and he began walking straight into hell.

Back To You…

“And that’s what happened and why I’m here now.” You spoke finishing your story.

“I know you told me I shouldn’t kill him, but the events that you just told me make me think he deserves it.” Doflamingo spoke through gritted teeth as his fists were tightly squeezed together.

“His death really wouldn’t make me feel any better you know.” You bit back annoyed that he even thought to bring this up again.

“It would make me feel better.” He muttered as you rolled your eyes at his comment.

“I know it would.” You sighed. “I just don’t wish to see him. I can’t, especially after leaving the way I did.” You admitted as you started to feel slightly sad once more.

“Good, you won’t and I’ll make damn sure of it. You left because you knew you needed better and so you came to me. I’ll make sure you find someone worthy of a woman of your caliber, that’s a promise.” Doflamingo declared feeling righteous.

“I’m not looking to move on yet Doffy…” you said looking down at you hands as your eyes began to blur. “I just can’t.” You added as your heart ached with the memory of your husband.

“Fine, but you will one day, promise me.” Doflamingo spoke seriously

“I promise.” You replied. Although not fully meaning it as your heart still belonged to your husband despite how shitty he was.

“Good girl. Now you should go see the rest of the family I know they’re excited-”Doflamingo began

“Young master! Young master!” A guard burst in holding a newspaper exclaimed.

“Dammit what?!” Your brother barked back with visible anger.

“S-sorry, young master, b-but you need to r-read the news!” He stuttered handing Doflamingo the newspaper.

Your brother scanned it, reading it carefully not fully believing the article. You noticed a mix of confusion and excitement on his face as his familiar smile grew in size. It seemed like forever until he finally finished reading. Once he did, he gave you a smug grin as he handed you the paper that caused his amusement. He knew full well that this would fully shock you. So much so that you would most likely stay with him forever.

You took the paper from him and began reading. However, by the headline, you were already confused and horrified. A gasp left your lips as you continued reading. The true horrors that your husband committed came to light. Mixed emotions were flooding you as you finished reading and shakily placed the news paper down. Angry tears flowed down your cheeks as you looked at your brother who gave you a sympathetic smile, one he knew would make you believe that he had no clue about Crocodiles plan.

“I can’t believe he would be this horrible.” Yoi cried out as you cradled your face and began to sob.

“He is a pirate y/n.” Doflamingo said coming closer to you.

“I know he is, but taking over a country and planning to destroy it. That’s so fucked!” You exclaimed as you felt large arms around your body.

“I know it is. Shhh. Everything will be okay.” Doffy reassured pulling you closer to him with a satisfied grin. “I did tell you he was trouble.” He added.

“I-I know. I just thought he told me everything. He promised that he had.” You spoke through choked tears.

Your brother didn’t respond as he simply didn’t know what to say. On one had he was satisfied that you were with him once again. And that he finally had all of his family in once place. As well as the face that he was almost certain you’d let him kill Crocodile now. However, he also felt a unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in his chest. He did love you and seeing you so upset made him feel slightly sympathetic and worry for you. He hated this feeling but chose to ignore his confused emotions as this is what you needed.

“What am I gonna do Doffy?” You whispered as your voice was beginning to hurt from all of the crying you had done.

“You’re going to say here with me, sweet y/n.” Doffy responded pulling away to look at you.

“How long?” You questioned.

“As long as you’d like to but if it were up to me you’d stay forever. We’re family and it’s high time we reminder that.” He told you grabbing your now puffy face and wiping your tears.

“You’re right! You’ve been right about everything!” You cried out “I’m sorry Doffy.” You whispered hugging him once again.

“That’s all in the past now.” He comforted “Why don’t we go see the rest of our family soon?” Doffy suggested

“I’d like that, thank you brother.” You spoke excitedly

“Good.” Doflamingo smiled smugly

Two Months Later…

Your life at this point was much improved. You were now apart of the family and even had some authority. It was great and you even opened a little flower shop near the castle that you ran, which Doflamingo agreed. You had also gone to therapy and opened up a lot about your marriage and about your own personal problems. You were much happier knowing that your husband was serving time for his heinous crimes.

However, during these past two months you realized that Crocodile’s absence would always leave a hole in your heart. Despite how awful he was to you, you did love him. You thought a lot about him and even began to miss him and the times that he was sweet and loving to you. Truthfully he was that way for the majority of your marriage.

Every day was hard, but Doffy and the family had made your days easier. You and baby 5 had gotten along well and you even helped her with her attachment issues and have tried to convince her to go to therapy. The rest of the family was hard to really get close with again, but you had tried your best. After all, they were people that you had been close with once upon a time.

Today, was quite hot in the beautiful kingdom of Dressrosa. You were tending to your flower shop, making sure that all of the displays were absolutely perfect. While you were focused on the task at hand, the bell to your shop went off alerting you of a customer. As you turned around you were greeted with the familiar face of Doflamingo.

“Hello there, what might you need today brother?” You smiled to him

“I assure you I’m not here for your beautiful flowers sweet sister, but I am here to let you know that’ll I’ll be gone for at least a week.” Doffy informed you as he crouched in your shop due to his enormous size.

“Where to?” You questioned

“There’s gonna be an execution. One for the pirate Portgus D. Ace, commander of the White Beard Pirates.” He said proudly.

“But that’s result in an all out war!” You told him perplexed by this information.

“Exactly. I’m ordered to go but really I wanna see how this will turn out! It’ll be a spectacle!” Doflamingo laughed making you cringe slightly

“I guess I’ll see you in a week then.” You responded trying to change the subject as you turned back to your flowers.

“Yes, you could come with me you know.” He suggested

“I’ve got work to do here. And besides who’s going to keep your family in shape while you’re gone.” You joked hanging your brother a blood red rose. He took it with a smile before placing it in his pocket.

“I suppose you could watch the broadcast.” He suggested

“Not really sure I wanna see all of that” you admitted feeling slightly sick at the thought of watching that boy die.

“Fair enough, but I do hope you will change your mind.” Doflamingo laughed slightly. “Take care of our family y/n. I’ll be back soon.” He spoke one last time before he left leaving you to your work.

“See you soon, brother.” You whispered as a strange feeling erupted in your chest. “This won’t end well.” You spoke to yourself as you continued w continued with your work.

A Few Days Later…

Doflamingo had arrived in MarineFord Mmmm a few days ago and already the war had begun. The theatrics were already amusing him as he watched the carnage. Pirate versus marine, the strongest versus the strongest. This war was right up his alley. Doflamingo only wished that you could be here to witness this, but hoped that you’d watching the transponder snail feed.

“Ah yes! Who is just the marines or the pairates! It doesn’t really matter this war will change the tides forever! Fufufufufu!” Doflamingo exclaimed happily.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Sudden voices yelled out from up above interrupting Doflamingo celebration.

“What the” Doflamingo spoke out looking up with a frown and then surprise at a massive marine ship somehow falling from the sky.

“Dammit, Ivankov!” A familiar gruff voice yell out in annoyance.

“Iva!” A child-like voice called out.

“We’re all gonna die!” Two male voices caked out in terror.

And just as fast as he heard those voices, they were sent plummeting down into the hole in the ice below that was made not too long ago. This spectacle was enough to catch the attention of everyone on the battlefield. Faces agape at the sight making the fighting stop.

“Dammit straw hat!” The same familiar gruff voice called only this time the person was much clearer.

“Well I’ll be dammed!” Doflamingo called out to none other than Sir Crocodile.

“Shit.” Crocodile whispered to himself

Doflamingo quickly made his way to Crocodile, killing random people on the way there. As he was approaching, he took notice of Crocodile’s sad attempt at attacking Whitebeard only to be stopped by both straw hat and one of Whitebeards commanders. Crocodile was sent flying backwards as blood dripped down his nose.

“Well hey there gatorboy!” Doflamingo greeted looking down at Crocodile.

“Doflamingo stay out of my business or else!” Crocodile but back wiping the blood from his nose.

“Your business! Fufufu! Your businesses is now thriving with me after you left her broken-hearted. ” Doflamingo laughed

“What the hell are you yapping about!”Crocodile responded

“Your dear wife came crying to me after she left you!” Doflamingo

“She’s in Dressrosa?” Crocodile questioned already starting to make a plan to go to you.

“Yes! Where she belongs.” Doflamingo spoke

“She’s my wife!” Crocodile barked

“And she’s my sister and I can assure you, you’ll never see her again!” Doflamingo laughed.

“Dammit Doflamingo! She’s mine!” Crocodile replied grabbing him by the shirt

“You know she might be watching gator boy! Wouldn’t want to let her see you assault her brother, would you now? Fufufu!” Doflamingo teased

Crocodile then promptly let him go feeling nervous that you might be watching. Anxiety then crept and he decided then that he’d better act right hoping that maybe you’d see that he was a better man than the last time you had seen him.

“Damn, didn’t realize my sweet sister had such a tight leash on you gator boy.” Doflamingo joked

“Maybe I just want to my wife to see the man she deseves.” Crocodile whispered sadly

“Let’s just hope she’s looking then.” Doflamingo responded seriously confused at Crocodiles change in demeanor.

Meanwhile, back to you a few moments earlier…

You had completed your work for the day. As you closed your flower shop and made your way back to the castle you thought of your brother mentioning the broadcast at marineford and how anyone could view it if they had a video transponder snail, to which the castle did.

“Fuck it.” You whispered realizing that you were very much in fact interested in what would happen.

And thus, as you walked into the castle you set your sights on the room you knew had what you needed. As you made your way there you wondered what was going on now and what did you miss. You felt as though something happened that you had to see. Something that could change everything for you and you had no idea why yet. So, as you arrived at the room you immediately started to turn on the video transponder snail in hopes that the broadcast would work. After a little trial and error you got the massive snail working and connected to the one at Marine ford. The feed started playing and immediately you saw the massive battle that had happened and was now continuing. Pirate versus marine, the best verses the best. This was, in your mind, the war that would determine the change the world forever.

“The fucking brutality.” You spoke out eyes glued to the screen.

You noticed your brother in the corner of the screen laughing and saying some big speech that you agreed with and then;seemingly out of nowhere, a missive ship crash landed in a almost too perfect opening in the ice below. You gasped at the sight not realizing what had just happened. It was bizarre to be sure but was most bizarre was the reaction your brother had to it. He was quick to leave his post and go to the action.

“What the hell is he doing?” You wondered knowing something like this was not likely to make your brother leave the comfort of his stand. He is a king after all.

You watched your brother closely as he landed right before a giant man seemingly made of diamonds and someone who had just gotten punched by him. The video was hard to see due to all of the fight king and debris in the air. But with further focus you finally realized the reason for Doflmingos haste and why he would even be remotely interested in leaving from his viewing spot. It was a person; a person still so dear to you and who you still loved deeply, much to your own disappointment.

“Crocodile?” You whispered to yourself feeling like the world itself had stopped.

Thank you so much for reading!💜 Gonna make 1-2 more part(s) for this story! Stay Tuned! Please let me know what you thought of this part!!

Tag list: @emmaiscool22 @carmendanny2 @oofitty @ushoppu @a-goblin-named-cherry @iloved1lfs0 @sunnyferr @lucacangettathisass @eyes-ofhell

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

Please feel free to like, comment, follow, request, and reblog!

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

Part 1 Part 2

[lycheedr3ams]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write about a mean!ghost x reader? Either angst or with a breeding kink🫶

it is a bit unholy how much this ask excited me. i should not be attracted to mean fictional men, but here we are at this point in history

thanks for this ask! I hope y'all enjoy

fem!reader x mean!ghost

MDNI

Warnings: ghost is really mean to reader in the beginning, canon-typical violence, CMNF, humiliation, slight breeding kink, angst, crying, brief mention of female masturbation, fingering, hair-pulling, predator/prey dynamics, pussy slapping, hate sex, orgasm denial, harddom!ghost, dub-con, slight making up at end

Reader is a sniper and your callsign is Reaper

not proofread

you did your best as team 141's new sniper. Gaz, Soap, and Price all warmed up to you rather quickly. you were deadly on the field and friendly when everything was said and done. really, there was no one who didn't like you. you were just too nice, your smile too pure, for anyone to have any problem with you.

Ghost was the only exception. the prickly lieutenant wasn't too fond of having another sniper on the team to compete with, especially since you were, on the books, a better sniper than him. his orders to you were always barked with much more bite than the orders he gave to others. his gaze towards you was always draped with a slight scowl. when you'd get the perfect shot, or save the mission from failing, you never got any praise. all he would respond with was a silent stare that ripped your heart into shreds, or a grunt that sounded more like disapproval.

and you had enough of it.

you asked Ghost if you could speak with him one night while you all were on base, waiting for your next assignment. he couldn't mask the slight surprise in his eyes, before he nodded curtly.

when the time came for you to speak with him, you couldn't help how your heart almost escaped your chest. not only was he your superior, he was Ghost, the one soldier whom everyone feared, like a cryptid in some military folklore. and here you were, about to walk right into his lair, right into his sharp teeth. asking the wolf why he preyed on the lamb.

but there was another problem. Ghost, for all of his horror and renown on the field, was so fucking hot. how he stood tall with his arm crossed in all his masculine glory. how deep and raspy he sounded when he grunted, or how gravelly his voice was in the coms in your ear when he clipped orders at you. how his ass looked in those tactical pants, how you've spent many nights thinking about him as you stuffed your cunt with your fingers. you hated how his voice, his oh so mean voice reserved only for you, soaked your panties almost every time.

you knocked on the door to his office, trying to ignore your pumping heart and throbbing core as you stood and waited.

"come in," his deep voice sounded through the door. you slowly opened it and entered without looking at him as you shut the door. you took a deep breath and faced him, but you kept your back against the door.

"sir," you said dutifully. a formality that you cursed. "i wanted to speak to you about something." your voice shook slightly. despite all the things you've seen, all the people you've killed, this one man has the power to make you weak in the knees and in the head.

"yeah, figured that much," he said shortly. "spit it out."

you gulped, and you stepped forward a little. you would face him confidently, not cowering against the door like a student called into the principle's office. you summoned yourself here willingly, and there was no backing out.

"sir, i've been on the team for a while, and i would like to think that i've been a great asset. but i'm wonderiong if i've done anything to offend you?" you stated.

silence. you could've heard a pin drop in his office as he stared at you with his arm crossed, leaning back against his desk. his cold stare could've frozen your heart.

he wanted you to crack under his gaze. to spit out something stupid that would give him an excuse to dismiss you from the team. but you knew better. you met his deadly gaze head-on. if you were to die here, like this, at least you would do so standing up for yourself.

he slowly blinked, and you felt your heart drop when he finally spoke. "offended me?" he scoffed. "don't flatter yourself."

you slightly furrowed your brows.

"and what makes you think you've offended me?" he asked mockingly. your blood was boiling. you gulped. fuck it. if he was going to be so direct and curt, so were you.

"sir, you treat me differently than the others."

ghost stood up a bit straighter as he squared his shoulders, his arms still crossed on his chest.

"oh yeah?" he goaded. "how so?"

he knew the answer already. he wanted to make you crack, to hear you say it.

"sir, you're a lot... harder on me," you said slowly as you chose your words carefully. "it's the tone in your voice, and the way you look at me."

he inspected you for a moment. "the way i look at you, huh?" he said quietly.

"yes, sir," you said as confidently at you could.

ghost began to walk towards you, slowly, as if he were a beast stalking prey from the shadows. he made a beeline towards you.

"and how is it you think i look at you differently?" he was now within arm's reach as he looked down at you.

you almost lost your train of thought as you looked up at him. this close, he smelled like cigarettes and a tinge of whiskey, and gunpowder. you hated how hot, how attractive, it was. how his eyes stared into your own.

"sir, you..." you thought for a moment. the tension could've been cut with a knife. "you look at me very...disapprovingly."

ghost blinked. "oh, so you want my approval, is that it?" he quipped.

your eyes went wide for a moment before you shook your head. "no, sir. i just want to be treated like an equal member of this team."

your answer must've surprised him, because he leaned back ever so slightly as his eyes widened. but he quickly caught himself and resumed his dangerously indifferent stance.

"and what would it take to make you feel like an equal part of this team?" he asked.

you hadn't expected that. you cleared your throat before you spoke. "i'd just like you to talk to me the way you do to the other members, sir."

"you want me to talk to you like you're a man?" he knew that wasn't the answer.

"not exactly, sir. i just want to be treated like i'm an equal. i can't help but feel like you don't like me."

now he really hadn't expected you to say that. you could see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"you come into my office and accuse me of not liking you?" he said coldly.

you looked him in the eyes. "sir, i didn't accuse you. i'm stating my observations and asking you to confirm or deny them."

he observed you for another moment before he started to slowly walk around you, until he was at your back. the hairs stood on the back of your neck as he leaned down to your ear.

"what about the way you look at me?" he whispered.

you instantly blushed, and your heart raced.

"i've seen the way you stare at me, how your eyes wander," he rasped. "how you stare at my arms and my cock."

"sir! i -" you squeaked. but you were cut off when one of his gloved hands came to rest over your mouth, and the other around your stomach, holding you against him. his hardening bulge was pressed against your ass.

"shh, don't want anyone else to hear this, do you?" he cooed in your ear. you breathed hard as you looked up at him, his gloved hand still covering your mouth.

"don't hide it, Reaper, i know you want me," he whispered in your ear. your eyes fluttered shut as you slightly relaxed against him. he smirked.

"that's what i thought." he let you go, and you quickly turned around to face him.

"you don't even know mean," he challenged as he looked at you with bedroom eyes through his skull mask. "i'll show you just how mean I can be."

you gulped again as you looked up at him.

"strip. before i rip those clothes off of you," he commanded.

you looked at him with wide eyes. you stopped breathing.

"that was an order, soldier," he said shorter this time. "don't test my patience."

you slightly nodded at him before you took off your shirt slowly. once it was off, you held it in front of you, over your stomach. but the warning in his eyes told you all you needed to know. you let your shirt drop to the floor with a quiet thud before you went to untie your shoes to remove them and your pants. most of your clothes were now in a heap on the floor next to you, your bra and panties still on.

"all of it. off." he snapped.

you blushed as you removed your undergarments, and wrapped your arms around your stomach as you stood bare before him. he breathed in deeply as he raked every inch of your body with his hungry eyes.

he jerked his head towards his desk. "bend over on the desk. now."

you slowly turned your back to him, walking towards his desk. it felt as if you were turning your back on a predator as you did so. you bent over on his desk until your elbows hit the smooth metal. your nipples perked up from the cold, and you looked behind you as you saw ghost approaching your naked body. the thud of his steps sounded like an earthquake to you as you waited with baited breath.

"look forward," he commanded once he made eye contact with you. you obeyed instantly. his presence could be felt right behind you now, and you gasped as a gloved finger slid over your wet pussy. ghost groaned.

"you can't hate me that much, to be this fucking wet for me," he growled as he all too gently rubbed your folds. "this pussy's just been achin' for me, hasn't it?"

"s...sir..." you said through labored breaths, your eyes screwed shut. but they flew open when he slapped your wet pussy. he huffed out his version of a laugh.

"that's what i thought." he pushed his index finger right against your clit, and you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes as he gently stroked it. "such a brave girl, coming into my office like this. you just wanted my cock so bad."

you shook your head. "no, no that's not why I came. oh!" he pressed harder against your clit, and your body shivered.

"pretendin' to be mad at me. it's got me worked up, i'll give ya that," he said as he splayed one hand over your back, pressing you down.

"i am mad - fuck!" you gasped as he inserted two gloved fingers into your pussy and began to stroke. you couldn't help the moans that flew from your mouth as he hit that spot that made you see stars.

"nothin' but a moanin' bitch for me now that i've got my fingers in you."

you grit your teeth and bit your tongue so that you wouldn't moan. he withdrew his fingers from your pussy but still held your back down. you looked back at him angrily.

"oh, that upset her," he teased. he leaned forward, and his voice took a much deeper and serious tone. "you're going to have to beg for it."

"fuck you," you said on instinct. but your eyes went wide as you realized what you had just said to your superior.

and ghost laughed. "i could dismiss you just for that, you know?" he said as he began to tease your entrance again. your eyes fluttered shut. "but i'm willing to forgive you if you beg for my fingers."

you grit your teeth. the feeling of his gloved fingers against your wet slit was perfect, but not enough. his fingers had filled you up so well, so much better than your own.

"please," you whispered.

"hm? didn't hear you," ghost said as he gently teased your entrance with his fingertips. you gasped.

"p...please," you said a bit louder.

"please what?" his fingertips slid in and out of your pussy.

you whimpered. "please, please i need your fingers."

"atta girl," he cooed as he pressed two fingers inside of you again. you gasped louder this time as he stroked them perfectly on your g-spot. "you sure you want to be treated equally?" he egged you on. "i don't treat any other task force members like this."

you moaned as he continued to stroke you, but suddenly the hand that was on your back came up to your hair and pulled your head back towards him. his fingers began to fuck you at a brutal pace and you screwed your eyes shut.

"i asked you a question, Reaper," ghost spat.

you tried to remember his question as his fingers fucked you. he shook his head. "already forgot? dumb bitch. i asked if you wanted to still be treated like an equal."

you moaned as his fingers curved at the end with each thrust. "n...no!!"

ghost released your hair and held you down again as his fingers continued to fuck you brutally. the sounds of your wet pussy filled his office.

"that's what i thought."

your body began to shake as your climax neared. ghost was just way too good at this, with the way his fingers curled precisely where they needed him to and the pressure of his hand against your back.

"ghost....i'm!"

right as you were about to climax, the second you were about to come, ghost withdrew his fingers from you. you looked back at him wildly, your face red. "what...what the fuck..." you nearly sobbed.

ghost slapped your pussy, and you jumped. "you really think i'd let you come that easily?"

you heard the metal of his belt clinking and the soft sound of a zipper being opened. you tried to turn to see his cock, but one of his hands flew to the back of your head and held your head down on the table.

"you stay still," he growled. you had no other choice but to comply, and you did so willingly. he eased the tip of his cock inside your weeping slit, and you gasped. you thought the process was going to be slow, given how slowly he put his tip inside you, but he suddenly thrusted his entire length into you. his gloved hand closed over your mouth before you could scream.

"stay quiet," he rasped in your ear. you could feel his cock twitching in your warm walls. he groaned when you clenched around him. "gonna use this pussy now."

ghost set a brutal pace immediately, his balls hanging down and slapping your wet clit with each thrust. he stayed leaned over you, holding one hand behind your back by your wrist, with his other hand around your mouth. he grunted quietly with each thrust.

"I know you've been wantin' this."

you clenched around him, and he laughed.

"you like it when I'm mean to you," he stated. but you were too far gone to respond. "you like it when I yell at you, when I put you in your place."

you moaned loudly under his hand as your eyes screwed shut.

"can't let a pretty little face like yours make me go soft," he mumbled against the back of your head.

his words faded, and the tip of his cock reached all the way to your cervix as you moaned against his hand. your toes began to lift from the floor as he fucked up into you harder. you gripped the metal desk as hard as you could before you suddenly came hard on his cock. ghost couldn't hold back the strangled moan that escaped him.

"you like comin' around this cock?" he whispered. you nodded vigorously. "gonna cum in this tight pussy."

he thrusted hard into you, the slaps of skin so lewd, a few more times before he came inside you with a groan. he stood above you, panting, as you both came to your senses. he pulled out and immediately pressed two gloved fingers against your slit to prevent his cum from leaking out. you looked back at him, your hair frizzy and face red.

"still think I'm mean to you?"

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

oh my god i would LOVE to read that, that's one of my favorite tropes that don't get used often enough in this fandom

I’m writing about Will + Hannibal being cut off from their resources post-fall and having to scrounge up poverty meals from the dollar store and fast food chains but I cannot decide whether to go for hahas + make Hannibal predictably and hilariously disdainful of a McDouble, or whether I want to go full angst and force Will to watch Doctor “I’m very careful about what I put into my body” “food is life” “I ate my sister” Hannibal Lecter spiral into total trauma-induced menty breakdown in response to having his sacred coping mechanism and main sense of control ripped away, exacerbated by the shame he feels for not being able to stomach it when Will didn’t even see it as a noteworthy obstacle until seeing the panic manifest physically …..

[fluentmoviequoter]

My Fighter

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: When a serial killer you arrested breaks out of prison, you and your team are tasked with finding him. You lie to the team and meet with the killer, but Street rushes to help you and reminds you why he can't lose you.

Warnings: canon-typical violence and action (OC serial killer, depiction of murder scenes, mentions of blood and murder, threats), angst, fluff and comfort at the end. there are a few references from various episodes but no spoilers!

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Street, hands to yourself, please. This is a workplace and I’m trying to make sure this raid goes well,” Hicks says.

Street ignores Hicks’ request, as well as Hicks’ obvious exasperation as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Street,” you whisper, shrugging one shoulder up.

“Fine,” he grumbles, removing his hands from your sides.

“Thank you,” Hicks sighs. “Now, you’ve got blueprints and Hondo’s breach plan is good. Deac, let’s not have another Schupatz situation, okay? Everyone stay where you’re supposed to be.”

“I’m still shocked you remembered him,” Luca comments.

“Everyone remembers big arrests,” Hondo argues. “And Deac’s just a good friend.”

“It’s true,” Deacon agrees. “First arrests are typically memorable.”

“Someone say something about memorable first arrests?” Rocker interjects from the doorway. “Mine was a drug maker. Not a seller or user, manufacturer.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Hondo calls. “Our girl over here took down a serial killer for hers.”

“I got lucky,” you say softly.

“How so?” Rocker inquires.

“He killed one of my friends. Tried to cover his tracks, but I knew her well enough to spot every little inconsistency.”

Rocker nods before his team calls for him. As he walks away, Hicks goes over the details of your current case once more. Street’s hand returns to your back as a silent comfort after talking about one of the toughest cases you’ve ever worked on. Hicks doesn’t mention it this time but gives you an encouraging nod as you walk out of the situation room.

Hondo’s phone rings as you climb back into Black Betty after a successful raid. He furrows his brows and mumbles, “Someone’s more overbearing than usual,” before he answers the call on speaker.

“Commander,” Hondo greets.

“Back to the station. Now,” Hicks demands.

“Yes, sir. But the raid was good, so we’ve got another-“

“There was a breakout at the state prison,” Hicks interrupts. “We need 20-David on this.”

“We’re on it,” Tan agrees.

“Are you all here?” Hicks asks.

“Yes, sir,” your squad says together.

Hicks sighs, and you can picture him rubbing his jaw before he says, “Noah Oliguria broke out.”

Your eyes widen at the mention of his name, and you turn toward Hondo to make sure you heard Hicks correctly. Street moves to your side, and you know that you did. Your first arrest, the man who killed your friend, a serial killer who was supposed to be off the streets until he took his last unworthy breath, is now running free in Los Angeles.

“Where’d he go?” you ask quietly.

“He stole a van,” Hicks says, “we’ve been tracking it on traffic cams, but we need S.W.A.T. ready to roll the moment we have an opening.”

“He’s going to kill again.”

“We don’t know that.”

“I do. When I put the cuffs on him, he promised that someday he would kill again. He’s not out for tacos, Commander, he broke free to get back to what he knows.”

“It’s okay,” Street says softly.

He lays an arm over your shoulders, and you lean against him as Hicks tells Hondo more about what they know. You don’t care about how Noah broke out; you want to ensure he gets put back in. With Street beside you, your anger begins melting into fear. The last time Noah was on the streets of Los Angeles, a lot of people died, including someone you cared about deeply. That won’t happen again – it can’t, not while you can stop him.

“We’ll get him,” Hondo promises as he ends the call. “And you’re not alone this time.”

Your leg bounces with bottled anxiety as you sit outside the situation room. Dressed in your gear, you are ready to go. The rest of your team is inside with Hicks, but they decided it would be best if you didn’t have to relive the initial case against Noah. You remember it too well, anyway.

“Hey,” Street says as he lowers to sit beside you.

His hand lands on your knee, and you slow your breathing and movement at his touch.

“Hondo thinks we may have a lead. If you want to sit this one out, though, no one will blame you,” Street explains.

“I can’t sit here and do nothing, Jim.”

“I get it,” Street promises, nodding.

“You’re not helping,” you mumble as you look at him.

Street’s hand moves from your knee to the side of your thigh as you move. He furrows his brows at your comment, and you offer a small smile.

“You’re being really serious.”

“Oh, right,” Street agrees playfully. “Would you prefer a joke or just a generic sarcastic comment?”

You tap your chin as you think, but as your worry disappears (one of Street’s superpowers, you think), Hicks yells for 20 Squad to get ready to roll. Street’s hand slips into yours as you rush to Black Betty, and you can only hope to beat Noah Oliguria this time.

“Don’t,” Hondo demands as you step to his side. He extends an arm across your chest and shakes his head. “You don’t want to go in there.”

You turn away from him and press your fists harshly into your sides. Too late again. Last time you found one of Noah’s victims, it was your friend, and she had endured a bitter end until she couldn’t anymore. Despite your determination to stop him again, Hondo is right; you’ve seen enough of Noah’s work to know you don’t want to see anymore.

“He’s not going to stop, Deacon,” you say as he exits the building. “We don’t have time to go back to H.Q. and wait for a lead.”

“We don’t have to,” Street calls. “He left us one.”

You and Deacon rush toward Street, who lifts a blood-covered motel keycard. Noah’s, you assume. It’s not much, but it’s something. As you sit beside Street while Luca drives to the motel, you can feel your heart and stomach flipping with anxiety and memories you’d rather forget.

Street takes your hand and squeezes three times. Part of you wants to climb into his arms and never come out, but the other argues that you have a duty to the men and women that Noah has already killed and those he plans to. No one on your team would force you to sit this case out, but if Noah gets close to anyone you love, you won’t have a choice.

“Hondo,” you say. “Can I make entry?”

He nods slowly before agreeing. Noah has tried to taunt you from behind bars before, but if you see him face-to-face, you’ll let him know he will never get under your skin. You’re not scared of Noah Oliguria, but the idea of losing someone else to him terrifies you.

After you exit Black Betty, you run silently toward the room listed on the key. There’s an overturned housekeeping cart beside the door, and you nudge it out of the way. A blood-soaked towel falls from the laundry bin, and you don’t hesitate to kick the door open.

Street enters behind you, but your sudden stop causes him to grab your hips as he tries to stay upright. The scene on the bed holds your attention, though. Noah never seemed to have a type about who he killed. He simply liked the act, the blood between his fingers, a pulse fading under his touch as the life faded from his victim’s eyes. That’s why this scene is so wrong.

“It was too fast,” you murmur.

“Motives change,” Hondo points out. “He’s been locked up, maybe he- maybe he’s making up for lost time.”

“No, the first one was right.” You look around quickly before you decide, “He heard us coming. We just missed him.”

“That tracks,” Luca agrees. “M.E. said the first body had only been there about ten minutes. We’re not far behind him.”

“Far enough,” you snap. “We cannot let him kill again.”

Hondo looks at Street, who nods before grabbing your shoulders. He steers you out of the room with a loving but firm grip, and you let him lift you into Black Betty as you remember what Noah did on the other side of the motel wall.

“He’s going to keep killing,” you whisper.

You hold Street’s wrists as he kneels before you. He nods but doesn’t look away from you as the coroner and a detective arrive.

“You know it takes time. What he did to your friend, to you, was awful. Getting over that is impossible, but we can’t rush this,” he says.

“I know that. But… it feels like it’s my fault. I caught him once; why can’t I do it again?”

“It took you months.”

You shake your head and prepare to argue, but Street leans closer as his hands move to either side of your neck, his thumbs brushing over your jaw.

“Honey,” he murmurs. “It took you time, then, too. Be patient with yourself, okay? Those women, their blood isn’t on your hands, and you’re going to go crazy pushing yourself like this.”

“We’ll catch him eventually, right?”

“We always do.”

Street moves up to kiss your forehead before he sits beside you. The team joins you in Black Betty a moment later with another clue to chase. It feels like a breadcrumb trail, but you will always be too far behind, too slow to catch the man leaving the trail. Street keeps his hand in yours as Luca exits the motel parking lot and you gladly accept the comfort.

Your phone rings as Hondo explains the clue they found: a receipt for dry-cleaning to be picked up down the road in just under an hour. It’s an unknown number, but Hondo permits you to answer it anyway. With your helmet still on, you answer it and immediately switch it to speaker. You don’t speak before someone says your name.

“Heard you’re with S.W.A.T. now. Guess that puts a new meaning on the term ‘chasing’ me, huh?”

You recognize his voice immediately and try to end the call. Street grabs your hand gently and shakes his head, and Hondo motions for you to keep him talking.

“Noah,” you force out. “What do you want?”

“Ten years ago, you arrested me because I made some mistakes. That’s what you said at the trial. I didn’t make mistakes. Your friend was a fighter, and she wrecked her apartment. Someone leaving clues isn’t a mistake. Speaking of your friend… how’s her family?”

“What do you want?” you repeat slowly.

“To catch up. 12th and Maple, tonight at 8. Just you and me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill someone else. Actually, I have a better idea… for every half hour that you don’t show, I will kill another woman in L.A. How’s that for reason to come?”

“Pretty good,” you agree. “12th and Maple?”

“Right. See you tonight. Maybe wear one of those outfits that your friend liked so much.”

The line beeps as he ends the call, and you drop your phone into your lap. 

“You’re not going,” Jim says.

“Yes, I am,” you argue.

“No, you’re not. We’re not letting you go off alone to meet an escaped serial killer!” Hondo adds.

“And I’m not letting him kill more women!”

“He’s going to kill anyway,” Jim says. “And he may try to kill you. Please, just trust us and don’t go meet him alone.”

“We’ll ask Hicks about setting something up,” Deacon offers. “Maybe no one else has to die.”

“Okay,” you agree. “But… I think I need some time. Can I take a little while this afternoon?”

“Of course,” Hondo answers. “As much time as you need.”

“I’ll take you home,” Street offers.

“Thank you, but I- I need to be alone right now.”

Street nods, and you lean back for the remainder of the ride to H.Q. You’re lying, but think Jim believes you. Deacon’s right, no one else is going to die at the hands of Noah Oliguria, and you’re going to make sure of that.

“East Ducasse Alley off 12th and Crocker,” you say to yourself as you drive through the garment district for your 8 o’clock meeting. 

You changed the meeting place to ensure your team couldn’t arrest Noah before you got answers. They think you’re at home right now, and the meet has been called off, but as you exit your car and walk into the alley, you wish you’d told them the truth.

“Jim Street,” Street says as he answers the phone. His attention is on the screen before him until the person on the other end of the line speaks.

“So, I’ve heard. You’ve got good taste in women, picked a fighter… I guess we’ll see if she’s strong enough to fight someone like me, huh?” Noah Oliguria taunts.

The call ends immediately after Noah finishes. Street pulls his phone away from his ear and stares at the screen. He hasn’t heard from you since you let him know you got home, and either Noah thinks the meet is still happening, or you lied.

He opens his tracker app that lets him see where your phone is. Because of your job and its risks, you agreed to let your entire team see your location, though you can turn it off whenever you want. Lucky for Jim, you never remember the ghost mode capability. He sees the small dot with your initials on it at the end of an alley in the fashion district and abandons what he was working on.

“Hondo!” he yells as he exits the situation room. “She went to meet Noah! They changed the location.”

“How do you know?” Hondo inquires.

“He called me. Said we’d found out how much of a fighter she really is.”

“20 Squad!” Hondo calls. “We’re rolling!”

Tan raises his arms in question, but when Luca sees the concern on Street’s face, he yells for everyone to get to Black Betty. Time is limited, but you are family, so they’ll risk everything to get to you.

Noah slides his phone into his pocket as you near him. You stop with several yards between you and cross your arms over your chest in the dirty alley.

“I’m here,” you say. “What now?”

“You remind me a lot of her,” Noah replies. “When she opened the door of her apartment, I knew she’d be special. Even after she got me caught, she stayed special. You know why?”

“I’m not here for a trip down memory lane,” you snap.

“She was special because she led me to you. I watched you move around her place so easily, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if you’d walked in instead of her.”

“If you just brought me here to tell me that you want to kill me, I’m calling my backup to take you back to the cell you came from.”

“What backup? Your boyfriend Street was still at the station when I called. We’re alone, and we’ve got plenty of time for that trip down memory lane. I had to finish early because of your team once today, and I won’t let it happen again.”

Noah rushes toward you, and you bend your knees slightly to catch his shoulders before impact. He flips onto the ground and pulls you with him. As you fight for the upper hand, you see a knife, a gun, and something else under his shirt. He came prepared to kill you and to make it hurt. 

“You made another mistake,” you taunt as you kick him off of you. “I was never going to come alone.”

“Luca, a little faster!” Street yells.

“I’m going, Streeter,” Luca replies calmly. “We’ll get there.”

“We haven’t been ahead of him since the moment he walked out of that prison.”

“Street, you have to keep it together for her,” Deacon says. “If you go in there like this, you won’t be able to help anyone.”

“She thinks their blood is on their hands,” Street responds. “But if anything happens to her, it’s all on me. I let her go.”

“We all did,” Hondo adds. “But we’re in a position to help her before anything can happen. So, let’s keep it tight, stay liquid, and fight for our own.”

“30 seconds!” Luca alerts the team as he nears your location.

“Okay,” Street agrees. “Let’s do this.”

Noah’s knife falls from his waistband as he pulls you across the asphalt. You try to hide your yell of pain and use his own momentum to knock him over your head. Turning quickly onto your stomach, you begin to push yourself up before Noah moves the barrel of his gun into your face. You stop immediately, frozen on your hands and knees.

“I was right,” he says past a bloodied lip. “You’re putting up a better fight than her.”

“Then let’s keep going,” you reply.

“I don’t think so. Not here.”

Noah takes one hand from the gun and pulls a pair of handcuffs and a rope from his pocket. That’s what you couldn’t place earlier: the handcuffs. They look like they already have blood on them, and you wonder if it’s his or someone else’s. While he’s distracted and moving, you raise your hands and push his arms away from you. The gun falls to the ground, and you shove Noah backward and against the wall behind him.

He grunts before laughing, and you clench your jaw when you realize he closed one end of the handcuffs around your left wrist.

“I’m a fighter too,” he says lowly.

“You’re a coward with a gun,” you accuse.

“Don’t.”

“Or what?”

He kicks your shin, and your legs slide out from under you as you fall to the ground. With his knife retrieved from the ground, Noah steps back to look at you. Your gun is digging into your back, and you take the opportunity to tug against the handcuff. He’s standing on the other end, and as one hand moves beside Noah, you pull your gun from its holster. 

Noah steps back to your side and poises the knife above your chest. He raises it, prepared to plunge the blade between your ribs and debilitate you before he treats your death like a toy for his enjoyment until you break, and he has to replace you with another victim.

“Remember when I said you’d never kill me?” you ask. “I meant it.”

Noah’s face hardens as he tightens his grip on the knife. He raises it a touch higher, and just as he prepares to swing down, his eyes widen as a shot echoes in the empty alley. Noah drops the knife, and you ignore it as it lands on your stomach. His hand falls to the wound in his abdomen before he falls back. You tip your head back against the road and take a deep breath. Someone yells your name, and you sit up quickly with your gun still grasped tightly between your hands. The knife clatters as it falls from your movement, and you lower your weapon when you see Street running toward you. Hondo has his hand to his ear, likely calling for backup and an ambulance for Noah, who is still conscious and groaning in pain.

Street takes your gun and knocks the knife away from your side. He raises his gloved hands to your face and tilts your head gently as he searches your skin for any sign of injury. You hook your fingers over his wrists as you lean toward him.

“Jim,” you breathe out. “You came.”

He nods and you appreciate the silent promise that he will always come. Before you can think to ask, he retrieves a key from his pocket and removes the bloody handcuff from your wrist. He flips your hand to ensure the blood isn’t yours before giving you room to stand.

You lower your hands to the concrete and push yourself up while Street hovers beside you as you stagger with each movement. An ambulance approaches the end of the alley, but you don’t look toward Noah. He screams as Deacon applies pressure to his wound, and you turn toward Street.

“Get her out of here,” Hondo calls. “Hicks said she’s good to give her statement in the morning.” He looks at you to ask, “You good?”

“Can’t complain,” you answer. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Just give us a heads-up next time, would you?”

“No, we won’t have a next time,” Street adds.

You nod as Street leads you to your car. He takes the keys from your pocket and helps you into the passenger seat before climbing behind the wheel. You each have a lot to say, but he stays quiet as he navigates through LA and drives toward your home. 

Once you’re inside, changed, and comfortable in Jim’s arms, you have the space to talk and fall apart. He has a firm arm around your waist as the other holds your head against his shoulder. Your arms are wrapped over his shoulders as you breathe against him. You’re in pain, but nothing could make you separate yourself from Jim in this moment.

“I’m sorry I went without telling you. I’m sorry for going at all after you asked me not to,” you apologize against Jim's shirt.

Jim’s hand moves from your head to your back as he rubs comforting strokes against your spine. His hand slips under your shirt at the bottom, and you lean further against him with the unhindered contact.

“I’m not mad at you,” he promises. “Noah called me.”

“He told me he called you and you were at the station, so you weren’t coming. What’d he say to you?” you ask as you pull back to see Jim’s face.

“Basically, that he was going to hurt you. He said he was going to make you fight and see how good you really are. I… I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, listen. I don’t want to lose you, and that’s why I asked you not to go. Not because I don’t trust you or I’m scared of Noah, anything like that. But he was after you and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too,” you reply softly.

“Then could you maybe try to act like it every once in a while?”

Street smiles, and your lips quirk up to match. You lean forward and kiss him, smiling against his lips as his hand travels across your back to bring you closer.

“I’ll remember that from now on,” you promise as you pull back. “And try not to do anything that could take me from you. I love you. I love you so much, Jim.”

“You know that none of this was your fault, right?” Street asks as he moves his hand from your hip to your cheek.

“Thanks to you, I do. You got me through today.”

“Kind of what I’m here for.”

“I see you chose sarcastic comments without me.”

“Well, you never answered the question.”

You shake your head lovingly and return to your previous position against Street’s shoulder. You love him, and you know he loves you; the comfort, reminders of what you mean to him, and how he treats you leave no room for doubt. Lying to him and risking your life, putting him in a place where he could lose you, wasn’t worth it.

“Can you say it again?” you ask, trailing a hand up Street’s chest and to his jaw.

“Say what?”

“You called me honey earlier.”

Street turns his face against your hand and leans into your touch as he says, “I love you, honey, and I’m going to tell you with every breath I have left.”

You smile shyly at the new pet name but take the opportunity to tease, “Hicks will love that.”

“Doesn’t matter, because I love you.”

Street pulls you into another kiss, and though you know life will never be easy, loving Jim Street is.

[barefoothighlander]

absolution - to be alone

-simon ‘ghost’ riley x wife!reader

-warnings: mdni (18+) angst, canon typical violence, death, kidnapping, mentions of blood

-word count: 3.5k

-summary: the secret of your marriage gets out and you and Ghost have to deal with the consequences

prev chapter masterlist

a/n: fair bit of violence this chapter, apologies that it took so long to write I’m having insane writers block, not proofread

“What do you mean Price knows” His voice was calm, he never yelled at you but for some reason you wished he was. His stoic state making you even more nervous,

“I had to tell him Simon he knew something was up”

“He didn’t know shit”

“Whatever he did, or didn’t know, or thought he knew, it doesn’t matter. He knows now, he understands why we didn’t tell him but atleast that weights of our chest”

“It’s not off our chest, what happens when he had to put it in our files? When he accidentally let’s slip that we’re married?”

“He wouldn’t do that”

“And you know that how?”

“Because you trust him, you’ve trusted him for years”

“Yea well the people you trust can hurt you the most” He says, standing to leave the room,

“Simon please, I’m sorry”

“It doesn’t matter now”

He closes the door and your emotions hit you, you regret everything about your decision to go to Price, but the sinking feeling in your chest wouldn’t let up until you told him. He had been surprised at first, he just assumed that the two of you were hooking up, he had no idea that you were married let alone knew each other prior to the mission, your file had pages about your previous ops but none mentioned the Lieutenant. Price was understanding in your secrecy, a little offended that Simon didn’t trust him with the knowledge but understanding none the less, he promised to keep it from the team no matter what and that was good enough for you.

Simon on the other hand wanted to wring the Captains neck, he could try to threaten him into sworn secrecy but he knew it wouldn’t work, he was furious. His only rule for your relationship being that it stayed between the two of you, and now it was compromised, yes he trusted Price with his life, but not with yours.

Simon marched his way to Prices office, his hands clenched at him sides as he knocked on the door, opening it once he heard the Captains voice.

“Simon”

“Sir”

“I understand congratulations are in order”

“Don’t”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know why”

“I’ve read everything in your file, i know about your past, your family”

Simon winces at the mention

“You can trust me with this son”

“You need to take her off the op”

“You know you can’t make that request”

“I’m not asking as her Lieutenant”

“She’s an imperative part to this op”

“Find another sniper”

Before Price can respond Simon breezes out of the room, a cloud of fury following behind him as he storms through the halls to his shacks. He releases a deep breath, pulling his mask from his head once he’s inside. He felt betrayed, a vow as sacred as the ones you made the day you got married and you had broken it, technically he understood why, you were never great under pressure from higher ranks, he knew you couldn’t keep a lot of things to yourself given all the gossip you had told him over the years, but he trusted you with this.

He feared for you mostly, he knew he was in danger everyday, he had enemies across the globe and if word got out that you were married, a big red target would paint itself on your back. He didn’t want to think of the things his enemies would do to you in order to get to him, it made his stomach churn.

You stand in your quarters, thinking of all the things you could say, how you could apologize, and nothing comes to mind. You understand the weight of your decision but you’ve had people trying to kill your for years, you’ve made enemies of your own, you huff a breath holding yourself high.

You walk down the halls to Simons quarters before Price calls you into his office,

“Yes sir?”

“I have a favour to ask”

“Sir if it’s anything about my private life I ask that you keep it to yourself”

“It’s nothing about that Strider, trust I’ll keep that information confidential”

You nod “What do you need”

“I need recon on the building, you’re the only one with training that suits the op”

“Are you sure”

“I need the others here, you’re my only option Sargent”

“When do you need me”

“You have 3 hours to prep, a car will drop you at your view point and you’re alone from there, it’s a 3 day op but you’ll have comms”

“You need me to watch for three days?”

“There’s intel stating a transfer will occur within the week, I need your eyes to track movement”

“So no engagement”

“You do not have execute authority”

You nod, “Okay”

You leave his office, your argument with Simon gone from your mind, replaced with the anxiety of your mission. You approach his door and knock, you hear shuffling in the room before he opens it.

“Hi”

He opens the door to let you in, his head leaking out to make sure the hallways were clear. You glance around the room, his desk is a mess with open pages,

“You’re writing again?”

“Just, had some stuff I needed to get out”

“Si”

“I don’t want to fight about it, what’s done is done”

“Okay.. I’m leaving for a few days”

“What do you mean? You’re going home?”

“No”

He raises an eyebrow in question,

“Solo recon”

“Absolutely not”

“Simon please”

“Is he trying to punish me for not telling him about us?”

“What are you talking about”

“He’s sending you out alone, to punish me”

“Simon no one’s punishing you, this is the reason Price asked for me”

“I don’t want you out there with no backup”

“I’ll have comms to the base, I won’t be close enough for them to get anywhere near me”

Simon’s skin heats with anger, you move toward him, hands holding his at his side as you try to calm him.

“I’ll do this, then i’ll go home” You say with a heavy breath. You feel his muscles loosen slightly, his head moving down so his eyes can stare into yours, those dark orbs so full of emotion.

“Three days” He says and you nod, bringing your cheek to rest against his chest, his hands moving to roam your back.

“Three days and i’m back home”

“Safe” He mutters, his arms holding you against him.

You leave Simons room a few minutes later, bidding your goodbyes before moving to your quarters to pack your gear. You have 20 minutes before you have to meet your car, you’re breathing deeply, the mission wasn’t rare to you, spending time alone peering from rooftops was practically half your job in your last team, but being there, knowing Simon was only so far away. You knew he risked his life every time he left, you never asked the details, you didn’t want to stress about every little thing, this felt different, you were so close yet so far apart, you throw your bag over your shoulder and walk towards the outer doors.

Ghost is standing beside the car, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you doing here”

“I’m driving you, Captain owed me a favour”

You scoff at him jokingly before loading into the vehicle, as the two of you drive off. Your position wasn’t that far, about a 40 minute drive till you got dropped off and had to walk the rest of the way.

“Keep channel 4 open, that’s where you’ll contact me”

“I’m only supposed to talk to Price”

“Keep it open” He says with a glare, his gloved hand moving to rest on your thigh. You watch the terrain pass you by as you keep driving, dry mountains breezing past your eyesight. You arrive at an dirt road and Ghost turns the engine off, he sits silently for a few minutes, his free hand roaming across the wheel before you turn your body, taking his hand in yours.

“It’ll be okay”

“I know”

“I’m very good at what I do”

“I know that too”

“I’ll see you in three days”

He huffs a breath and nods, hands moving to pull his mask up slightly before leaning in to kiss you, he holds your cheek deepening the kiss before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“Just be careful”

You squeeze his hand tenderly before stepping out of the car and grabbing your gear.

“I love you” You say

“I love you too doll”

You begin walking away, while Ghosts sits in the car until your figure fades from view, there was nothing he could do now but leave, he had to trust you.

Your walk was harsh, the dry terrain mixed with the beaming sun doing damage to your lungs, huffing your way across the ground before you made it to the small city, navigating around back alleys. You locate your view point, climbing an outer ladder to reach the top, sneaking into an open window where you position yourself, your scope settling on the target building in the distance.

“Alpha leader this is Strider how copy?”

“Good copy Strider, are you in position”

“Affirm”

“Alright, keep eyes, take note of any movement in or out, I want a head count”

“Copy, out”

You settle in to your position, eyes locked onto the building for signs of movement. Hours pass without anyone going in or out, you’ve traded your scope for spotting binoculars as the sun went down slowly, the warm air encompassing you in the abandoned building. No movement anywhere that you could see, no cars, no people, you had no idea what you were looking for.

Night falls and you have to toss your visionary aids aside, relying on trying to spot lights from the building, there’s a single room illuminated, you can see through the window but you can’t make out any bodies. You return to your scope in hopes of recognizing someone in the room, watching but you see no shadows or movement.

“Strider how copy?” Ghosts voice rings through your comms.

“Hey babe”

“Keep it professional, may have prying ears”

“Copy”

“You alright”

“No movement, getting bored”

“Bored is better than dead”

You huff a laugh, “That’s true”

“How are things on base?”

“Price wants us shipping out in the morning”

“So you’ll be gone when I get back”

“Most likely”

“Alright” You try to hide the sadness in your voice

“He thinks the mission should be finished within the the next weeks”

“Oh”

“I’ll be home with you before you know it”

“I’ll be waiting”

“I have to go, be safe”

“I love you Simon”

“I’ll see you at home”

You smile, only a handful of days and you’d be back home, safe with your husband, not worrying about the state of his life, just enjoying being with eachother.

“Strider this is Price”

“Sir”

“Reports of a convoy moving near your position, do you have eyes”

You take a minute too look around, your scope landing on a group of trucks passing by a road.

“Copy, count 5 vehicles”

“Are they carrying anything”

“Negative, doesn’t look to be any cargo”

“What about people”

“Count maybe 17 men, all armed”

“Do you see our hostage”

“Sir I thought this was recon”

“Do you have eyes Strider”

You look around, “Sir is that?”

“Affirm, you see her?”

“Affirm Sir, I have eyes on the hostage, she’s bound, they’re moving her into the house”

“Copy, keep watch, do not engage under any circumstances”

“Copy Sir”

Your comms go silent as you watch the scene in front of you, a middle aged woman with blonde hair has her arms bound behind her, a cloth mask over her eyes as the group of men force her towards the building before disappearing inside. You aim your scope at the windows, trying to get a view but all the curtains are drawn, you can vaguely make out shadows passing by.

You watch as the figures look by the windows, they sit the women down in a chair, 3 men gathered around her. You can’t make anything out, adjusting your scope to get a closer look before your eyes sting from the light, one of the men had opened the curtains to look outside, leaving them that way, enough space for you to get a clear view.

They’re yelling something, speaking to each other, you watch the woman tremble and flinch every time one of them shouts. You know your orders but every bone in your body is urging you to help.

“Sir permission to assist”

“Negative, do not interfere”

“Captain they’re going to kill her”

“Your orders are to watch Sargent”

“Sir”

“Do not engage”

You think over your options, your instincts taking over, fuck it I’m off the team either way.

You race down the side of the building, disassembling your rifle for close range shots, your legs are moving faster than your mind as you sprint towards the building, you find a high point and settle into the grass. There’s atleast 15 hostiles in the building, you scope around, 7 outside scattered, you can pick them off.

“Strider, report”

“Sorry Sir”

You take your ear piece out, with a deep breath you push yourself from the ground, hastily moving through the darkness, advancing towards the house. You make your way around the back, pulling out your knife, one man turns the corner and you grab him, digging your knife into the side of his neck as his body drops.

You make your way around the perimeter, killing them one by one, your breath heavy for the exertion. You find the last man, your hand moving to cover his mouth as you slice his throat, the blood pouring from his wound coating your skin seven down, eight to go. Your whole body feels sticky, covered in a layer of blood, sweat and dirt as you wipe off your knife, putting it away in favour of your sidearm.

You attach the silencer and open the front doors, immediately firing off two rounds into the heads of the men.

six

You turn your body, peering around corners, there’s one in the kitchen.

five

You clear the bottom floor, slowly inching up the stairs, one at the top and you shoot him, his body falls down the steps, landing with a thud, you pray it wasn’t loud enough to alert anyone. You start upstairs, clearing the rooms, two are arguing in the office.

two left.

You clear the rest of the area, making your way to the large bedroom at the end of the hall, even through the men arguing you can hear Prices yells through your comms.

You take a breath, counting your bullets, you had three left. You open the door firing one off into the head of the man in front of you, the woman in the chair screaming as the shot rings through the air.

You move to fire at the other man but he grabs your hand, you miss. He pushes you to the ground, your bodies fighting for control as his weight pins you, your arms reach for your gun as his hands grasp around your throat. You’re thrashing under him trying to throw him off, choking for air as he tightens his grip.

Your vision spotty as you lose strength,

“Strider! Get out now!” Ghosts voice comes through your comms, enough to bring you back as your fingers feel for your weapon, grabbing it and hitting it against the man’s temple. He releases you, stumbling over your body as you brave yourself and shoot, his body falls onto you with a thud, his blood pooling around your head as you gasp for air.

You use all your strength to push him off, steadying yourself before stepping towards the woman, she’s writhing against her constraints.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, i’m gonna get you out”

You slowly pull the mask from her eyes, they’re bloodshot and pooled with tears.

“I’m with Captain Price, I’m gonna get you home”

She’s a wreck of choked sobs as you cut her constraints, her body falls against you as you hold her up, walking her out. She’s looking around as the mess of bodies, clinging to you as you descent the stairs.

You exit the building, walking slowly in tandem with her as you reach a patch of grass tall enough for cover.

“Here, sit down” You hand her a small bottle of water and she takes it with shaky hands, gulping down the liquid before settling.

“Thank you”

“Does she know you’re here” You ask

The woman nods, “She watched them take me”

Your hand moves to slowly caress her arm, a small attempt to comfort her.

“Price”

“Sergeant you better have a goddamn explanation”

“I have the hostage, she’s safe”

Price signs deeply, “Are you hurt”

“Negative”

“Get her to the city, we’ll extract from there”

“Copy Sir”

You sit for a while, allowing the woman to compose herself before you help her up, the two of you making your way back to the streets of Panama.

The noise was overwhelming, a stark contrast from the silence you kept the last 24 hours, you find an old building, smashing the window to access the door lock before guiding her in.

“Shouldn’t be long”

She nods

“Does she know I’m safe, does Kate know?”

“I don’t think so”

“Okay”

Ghosts voice calls through your earpiece, “Strider, what’s you position”

“In an old building, northeast end of the city, there’s a small restaurant across the street”

“Copy, closing in”

You wait in silence, the sound of tires passing over dirt grabs your attention, you move to the window to look outside. You see Price and Ghost exit the car, looking around for hostiles, you move back to settle at the woman’s side,

“Okay” You touch her shoulder

“Monica, my names Monica”

“Okay Monica, my team is here, they’re gonna bring you back to our base where the doctor will check you out, then we’ll get you home”

“You trust them?”

“With my life”

She nods, you lock your arms under her shoulders, helping her to stand as the two men enter the building, dropping their weapons when they spot you.

“Jesus christ Strider, did you kill then all yourself”

“Something like that”

Price takes over hold on Monica, helping her to the car as Simon stands in front of you, his eyes staring daggers.

“Si”

“I don’t want to hear it, you’ll go home tonight”

“What, I have to make sure she’s safe”

“The team will take over, you disobeyed direct orders. You’re going home Sargent”

You stand to argue but he just turns and leaves, you’re alone in your anger before you walk to the car, settling in beside Monica in the back as Price turns the engine on. The ride was dead silent, not a word exchanged between the four of you, Monica had stopped shaking by the time you arrived back at base.

You help her out of the car, moving to help her inside before Price stops you,

“Your flights in two hours, be on deck before then”

You stare at him, unable to hide the disappointment in your face as you walk to the medical wing. You get Monica settled in to the bed and she falls asleep almost instantly, the stress taking a toll on her body. You sit with her for a few minutes, ensuring that she was okay before you move to your room to shower.

The water runs red as you wash the blood from your skin, feeling like you could finally breath, you need to talk to Simon but you don’t know what to say. You know if you leave base angry it won’t do you any good, he didn’t do well with emotions, he’d bottle them up before even dating to expose himself.

You spend some time packing your things, making sure to grab everything, your hands toying with the ring around your neck making your way to the plane deck.

Simon is standing in front of your plane, you move to him with regret in your eyes, your arms wrapping to envelop him but he pushes you back.

“Keep it together”

“I’m sorry Si”

“No time for that now” His hand moves to grab yours, his thumb rubbing tender circles over the skin. “I’ll see you at home”

He leaves without another word, you watch his form recede before stepping into the plane, the sound of the engine drowning out anything else before you feel yourself lift into the air. You’re filled with dread as you watch the base get smaller, you won’t be able to contact your husband for upwards of a month, and your last memory is him mad at you, you hated arguing in any form.

You lean your head back, settling in as the plane reaches the clouds, closing your eyes in an attempt to dream of anything but your anxiety.

Taglist: @chloepluto1306 @thychuvaluswife @valdemarismynonbinarylove @simply-vulpecula @lostinsideourminds @pampeop @bloodandthestars @tomhollandisabae @copiasratscheese @giveme-gaskarth

[mystic-writings]

emergency contact | jack hodgins

pairing — jack hodgins x fem!booth!reader

summary — hodgins hasn’t heard from you in over six months, after you broke up with him and disappeared. until he gets an alarming phone call in the middle of the night

warnings — angst, canon-typical violence, mentions of death

word count — 2,528

notes — a few things: i wrote this back in january, and it was rushed and poorly done but im being self-indulgent for this one | also im not tagging anyone bc i wanna see how far this will get on its own (except for my beloved @shmaptainwrites who indulged me ily mimi)

masterlist | navigation

2:47am

Despite his many years working for the Jeffersonian, Hodgins had yet to get used to his phone ringing at odd hours. With a groan and a stretch, his palm landed where his phone lay on the nightstand table. Without checking the caller ID, he picked up the phone and slurred out a tired greeting to the caller on the other line.

“Hello, Dr. Hodgins, I’m Marie, calling from the George Washington University Hospital.” Why was a hospital calling him so late at night? “You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/n Booth, correct?”

Your name sent a shock through Jack’s body. “I— I guess so, yeah. Why? Is she okay?”

“Your fiancée was shot on duty, sir. She’s in surgery right now. We suggest you be with her when she wakes up.”

Without a second thought, Jack hung up the phone and flung out of bed. He didn’t care how things ended between the two of you, good or bad, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed to make sure you were okay. After scrambling for a decent set of clothing and his car keys, Jack rushed out of the house and down the near-empty streets to the hospital you were taken to. 

Even though his mind was running at a mile a minute, Jack managed to recall what the nurse had told him. Shot on duty. You took a sabbatical seven months ago, were you back in town? Surely Booth must’ve known, he was your brother and co-worker, he had to have. Did he spare telling Jack to avoid the inevitable turmoil? Obviously you’d been back long enough to take a case, so it wasn’t like you had decided to come back out of the blue. 

By the time he found parking, it was half past 3 in the morning, and Jack’s heart refused to stop beating out of his chest, his palms sweating rivers as he clenched and unclenched them. Despite all of this, though, he approached the front desk with a cracking resolve, trying his best to be put together for the sake of not distressing the night staff and lingering patient family members. 

“Could you tell me where Y/n Booth is?”

The nurse behind the counter glanced up at him. “Connection to the patient?”

“I’m her-” he stumbled on the words. “Her, uh, fiancé. Emergency contact.” 

She typed a few things into the computer when a voice from behind caught Jack’s attention. 

“Hodgins.” Booth called, approaching with a weary face and a cup of likely burnt coffee.

Jack nearly sprinted over to the man, blue eyes frantically searching for answers in his features. “What’s up, man? I mean, what the hell happened?”

Booth took Hodgins by the arm and led him down a hallway, over to the elevators. “We were going after a perp. I told her not to go in first, that I’d handle the hard part. She didn’t listen, the bastard got her from behind, shot out one of her kidneys. Been in surgery for almost,” he checked his watch, “three hours now.” 

Jack deflated just as the elevator doors dinged open. The pair stepped inside, the space empty apart from themselves. “I just— I don’t get it. Yesterday, she was somewhere even I didn’t know, taking some damn sabbatical. Yesterday, I was still pissed at her. Now? She’s in surgery because she was on a case. Because some asshole shot her. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with that, Booth?”

Unable to provide any kind of emotional support or response, Booth remained quiet as his friend tried his best not to break down in the elevator. 

When the doors opened, Jack attempted to regain his composure as best as he could while Booth led him down the hall. There was a separate waiting room here, for family members who had someone in surgery. He sat opposite Booth, next to a sleeping little girl and her obviously exhausted mother. 

He had no bearing of the passage of time, and felt as though there was no energy left within him to check the watch on his wrist. All he did was sit with his hands on his knees, head tilted to the sky, one leg bouncing like an infinite rubber ball. At some point, a doctor came out to notify the mother of her husband’s successful surgery — his tumor was gone, he’d told her, and there was little chance of it coming back. 

It wasn’t until the sun started to peek in through the waiting room windows that a surgeon called out your name. Booth had been asleep in the chair across from Jack, but he was wide awake. The pair jumped up and approached the doctor, throwing questions at him rapidly. 

“Y/n is okay. Surgery went well, though we’ll have to keep her here for longer than expected.”

“Why? What happened?” Booth asked. 

The doctor sighed. “Due to the location of the entry wound, the bullet caused too much damage to her right kidney. For now, she’ll only be functioning with one until we can find a donor match. She’ll be on dialysis weekly and some medication to assist the working kidney, but otherwise, she’ll be just fine in a week or so. The bullet did puncture the liver and small intestine, but the speed of the bullet slowed enough to only cause minor damage, nothing we couldn’t fix up.” He told them, and a wave of relief crashed over the pair. “She’s being brought up to her room now, if you’d like to go wait with her.”

Jack only nodded, Booth trailing him as the doctor led them up one more floor, where you were being transferred to the ICU. It was painful, seeing you after so  long, only for you to be hooked up to so many machines, laying nearly helpless in a bed. He pulled a chair up to your right side, reaching for your limp hand to hold, hoping you could feel him. 

Hoping you knew he was there. That you knew he always would be.

Booth leaned against the door frame, watching everything with anguish. After you left for California, you kept in constant contact with your older brother. But even in those months, you never explained why you broke off the engagement so suddenly. Why you took a surprise sabbatical, why you went to California specifically. Why you became so closed off, so cold to everyone, even to Parker. 

After a while, Booth left Jack alone to go pick up Parker from his mother’s house. He promised to be back later, your nephew in tow, and pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead before he left. 

Jack, swimming in an ocean’s worth of thought, barely noticed the sun coming over the horizon in the window opposite him. All he could do was process the emotions flowing through him. Anger, that you left him so suddenly and without explanation. Despair, that you’d come back so long ago and didn’t come to see him, to work things out. Worry, that despite your life-saving surgery, you wouldn’t get a new kidney, or that you’d never be the same again. Anger again, but at the bastard who shot you. Triumph, that he was rotting in a cell right now. 

 Jack’s only comfort in the sterile, whitewashed room was the steady beeping emanating from the heart monitor, a small assurance that you were okay. His hand remained clasped over yours for hours, thumb stroking the smooth skin on the back of your hand. Partly as a comfort to himself that you were still there, but mostly, he believed, a comfort to you. He hoped you could feel it; that you could feel his presence. He hoped his presence comforted you. 

By the time you woke up, all the worry had faded from Jack’s body and exhaustion had taken its place. He was asleep, head supported by his arm on the side of the chair, when he heard the sheets rustle in the bed. 

Somehow, in all your years of work, this was the first time you ended up in the hospital due to a job-related injury. It wasn’t the first time you woke up dazed after a surgery with little memory of how you got there, though. 

The sheets, despite being thin, weighed down your legs and torso, providing warmth and comfort. You could feel the leads for the heart monitor stuck to your chest, irritating your skin in the slightest bit. There was a cannula feeding oxygen into your system, though it rubbed the skin on the back of your ears uncomfortably. The main thing, though, was that your torso hurt. 

Despite that, you managed to notice something weighing down your right hand. It was warm, warmer than the blankets. And heavier. Garnering the courage to open your eyes, you blinked to adjust to the sunlight and fluorescent lights, trying to shift yourself upward, wincing when it pulled on your wound. Instead, you glanced over at your hand, only to find another on top of it. Following the arm connected to it, your heart stuttered and cracked when you found a sleeping Hodgins sitting next to your bed. Emotion swelled within your chest and tear ducts just at the sight of him, sleeping so peacefully next to you, his hand over yours in a firm grasp, as if that was the only thing that assured him that you were really here. 

Slowly, quietly, you tried to pull your hand out from under Jack’s, only for the movement to wake him up. He stretched with a deep inhale, blinking rapidly as he took in his surroundings. It wasn’t until he noticed you were awake that he seemed to come to his senses. 

“Hey,” he nearly whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

You bit back a scoff. “Terrible. First job back and of course I had to get myself shot.” 

Jack fought a smile, scooting forward to raise the bed up for you to sit properly. “They said they got all the fragments of the bullet during surgery. You’re down a kidney for now, though.”

You only nodded, allowing yourself some time to gather your thoughts. “Why are you here, Hodgins?”

“Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact.” He told you, sitting back down and resting his elbows on his knees. “And apparently, I still care about you enough to show up.” 

“Don’t put that on me.” You whispered, chest restricting as tears fought their way back to your waterline. “You can’t say that to me. Not after what I did to you. You should hate me. I mean, really hate me. Like, praying for my downfall, kind of hate. You shouldn’t still care about me.”

“Well, apparently I do. I thought I hated you, for a long time. But I guess I don’t.” Jack sighed,  taking your hand. You wanted to protest, to pull away, but you let him. “I guess this was a wakeup call for me. Literally. They called me at 3 in the morning to tell me you were in surgery.”

You laughed, a wet sound underlined with sadness. “I’m sorry, Jack. Really, I am. I just…”

“What, don’t love me? It’s okay. I’ve learned to live with it.” 

Even when he should hate you, Jack still understood, and even worse, he still loved you. He was, somehow, the world’s most understanding man. God, you love him. 

“No, no I don’t hate you. Actually, it’s the opposite. I just wish things could’ve gone differently.” 

Now Jack was just confused. “What d’you mean? You broke up with me for a reason, right? You told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

“It’s too complicated, Jack. I want to explain it all to you, really, but it’s not safe. I don’t know if or when it will be, and I won’t blame you if you want to find someone else, or if you already have. You deserve to be happy, Jack. You should move on from me.” 

“I don’t want anyone else.” Jack said, emphasizing each word and squeezing your hand. “I just want you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were it for me, Y/n. Even with your brother breathing down my neck to not even think about pursuing our relationship. It was terrifying, but I ignored it. Because you were too important to have in my life. I couldn’t risk passing you up. I just don’t understand why you ended things so suddenly.”

The tears that you had been attempting to keep at bay for this entire conversation now flowed freely down your cheeks, the emotions you’d kept close to your chest for nearly a year now breaking free. Jack, like the gentleman he was, gently tilted your head toward him, reaching up and using the pads of his thumbs to brush them from your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, daring to look him in the eye. 

“Don’t be.” He whispered. 

“I have to be. I hurt you. I ruined everything. And it wasn’t even worth it. It  didn’t change anything.”

Despite his confusion, Jack said nothing. He simply stood to his full height and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his chest — minding your wounds and stroking your hair. “It’s okay. You’re home now. We can fix this.”

“No we can’t.” You shook your head, looking up at him. “Jack, there’s nothing left to fix. Because if we fix it, you’ll die.” 

After what felt like an eternity of swirling, spiraling thoughts, Jack found his voice. “What?”

“That’s why I left.” You said. “I was ordered to. I was working on a case, some underground organized crime syndicate. I found out some stuff I shouldn’t have. My hands were tied, I had no choice.” Choking back a sob, you wiped the tears from your face and took a breath. “It was either break up with you, call off the wedding, and leave, or everyone I loved would die. They were gonna kill you, kill Seeley and Parker, and drain your accounts. There was nothing I could do.” 

Jack pulled you in tighter, his whole worldview shifting and turning on an axis. He couldn’t speak — hell, he could barely even think right now. Jack had spent months grieving your relationship, questioning why you broke things off, harboring a ruthless anger at what his life had become, and all of it faded to dust in an instant. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, pulling Jack back to the present. “I work with these people, Jack. They could ruin me in an instant.” 

“We’ll fix this, I promise.” Jack declared, and despite the fear that had overridden your senses for the past few months, you couldn’t help but believe him. 

You only nodded, curling further into him as best as you could with your incisions. Fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie, you listened to the beat of his heart beneath you and took a deep breath. 

Soon enough, you were drifting off to sleep with the firm belief that soon enough, with the help of your family, somehow, everything would be okay. 

if you want more jack fics, please feel free to comment and let me know!! writing for smaller characters is always a gamble but if people read this i’d be more than happy to do so!

[lovemadethemdoit]

Hangster FIC RECS (complete fics only!) 🤠💘🐓

There are some high-quality long fics in this fandom and I’m sharing my faves with you because I’m nice (and selfish and want these authors to write more fics, duh.). Promise me one thing though? If you read a fic off my list and love it? Leave a comment for the author. They’ll be PSYCHED and write more. Possibly.

Okay, let’s go. More than 30 hangster fics for you to read. 😍😍😍

Under the cut. Feel free to reblog this post far and wide to energize this fandom, too!

********* wanting (18641 words) by bottledyarn

Additional Tags: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Internalized Homophobia, Pining, Banter, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Kiss, Suicidal Thoughts, Jake "Hangman" Seresin Needs a Hug, Canon Timeline, Canon Compliant, POV Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Emotionally Repressed, 5+1 Things, Sort Of, 6+2 things, Jake can't emote and I can't count, Character Study

Summary:

Six times Jake Seresin assumes Bradley Bradshaw is something he can want but can't have, and how he learns the truth.

--

Jake Seresin is very good at a few things. Flying, obviously. Pissing people off. Wanting things he can't have.

But he's never been very good at dealing with Bradley Bradshaw.

During the mission, Jake is just trying his best to be better.

***

hold me through the shakes (7477 words) by spiritsontheroof

Additional Tags: Hurt Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Mentally, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Canon, Pining Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Exes, Getting Back Together, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Nightmares, Canon-Typical Violence, it's like. lightly discussed, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary:

Bradley spills hot coffee on his hand three days into their post-mission leave.

It’s not until he can’t get the bandage over the blister that he realizes his hands are shaking.

***

I Long For You (To Hold Me Ardently) (10265 words) by perishablealex

Additional Tags: POV Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Canon Compliant, Light Angst, Pining, Kinda?, Smut, Getting Together

Summary:

“We don't have to talk about it.” His eyes dart away from Bradley’s face, afraid that they will betray just how much he wants to talk about it, that they will reveal the vulnerability Jake feels in that moment, caught in a momentary suspension of time. The moment feels unreal with the golden light pouring over piano tiles long forgotten in his childhood, the man at his side that feels close enough to reach but not quite hold, the way that time stretches like molasses, sweet yet torturously slow and thick.

“I think we should, don’t you?”

Or: Rooster and Hangman sleep together after the mission without realizing that it may not have been meaningless for either of them.

***

No One Can Find The Rewind Button (71073 words) by FabuMazX

Additional Tags: Mpreg, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Accidental Pregnancy, Mentions of miscarriage, IceMav are the best granddads

Summary:

It was only one night. But that's all it takes, isn't it?

Bradley and Jake are on good terms since the mission. Friends even. But they're not together, not like that. So why the universe decided to force them together with an unexpected surprise is anybody's guess.

***

something to be sheltered (19075 words) by MayWilder

Additional Tags: Found Family, Post-Mission, Meet the Family, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is a Softie, Jake "Hangman" Seresin Needs a Hug, Jake "Hangman" Seresin Has Daddy Issues, Married Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Temporary, no beta we die like goose, Father-Son Relationship, Light Angst

Series: Part 2 of Feels Like Home

Summary:

“My wife has asked that you join us for dinner tomorrow night,” Beau says carefully.

“Your wife, sir?” Jake’s brow furrows. “Why would she like to meet me?”

“She thinks its important that my mentee sees a healthy work-life balance.”

“I’m your mentee?” Jake teases, smirking lightly. “And you talk about me enough that your wife wants to meet me?”

“You can continue to be a pain in my ass,” Beau sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “Or, you can take the offer of a free dinner with a beautiful and intellectually stimulating woman.”

“Oh, I definitely want to see this side of Cyclone,” Jake grins. “Domesticated.”

“You’re bordering on impertinence.”

“Me? Never.”

“Let’s go back to when you respected me and my position.”

Jake appears to settle down, but only slightly. He clears his throat and squares his shoulders. “I’d be honored to attend dinner with your family, Admiral. Just tell me a date and time.”

*** or, Beau Simpson didn't mean to adopt a fully grown naval aviator, but, you know; shit happens.

***

flames look beautiful (if you forget what they can do) (8359 words) by Ravens_Words

Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Protective Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Protective Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Protective Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Idiots in Love, Getting Back Together, Background Relationships, Hints at IceMav, Hints at BobNix

Summary:

Bradley Bradshaw returns to consciousness with a gasp, hand going to his side, where a searing pain makes itself known.

  "-ster, hey," Jake snaps, holds his face in both hands and forces him to look his way, "breathe."

  Bradley does as he's told, as painful as it is, and his vision clears somewhat. Jake's crouched beside him, concern etched on his face, and what happened comes back to him in flashes.

  The mission going sideways at every possible turn, seeing Jake's plane get shot down in the sky, the less than smooth emergency landing in the woods that followed.

***

Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away? (48614 words) by LoveMadeThemDoIt

Additional Tags: Jake Seresin Has Daddy Issues, Homophobia, Emotional Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Found Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jake POV, Bradley POV, Protective Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Protective Javy “Coyote” Machado, Protective Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, Self-Denial, Jake “Hangman” Seresin Needs A Hug, Threats of Violence, Blackmail, Homophobic Slurs, Dissociation, Training Accidents, Jake is in the hospital at some point but he’ll be fine, Bradley makes sure Jake gets sleep, navy inaccuracies, Closeted Character, a dusting of IceMav, Beau „Cyclone“ Simpson is a softie, First Time, Anal Sex, Bottom Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Post-Canon, Gay Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Bisexual Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake "Hangman" Seresin Has Bad Parents, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Self-Worth Issues, Happy Ending, Slow Burn, the movie plot is maybe three paragraphs at the beginning but this is POST-CANON

Summary:

Jake has no illusions he’ll come back from this mission. He’s the best fighter pilot the Navy has got on staff and this is not his ego talking. He’ll fly the mission, and it’ll be a shit show, because none of them have even managed to fly the simulation in the way they need to.

In his weaker moments, Jake wonders if his father is how he’s gotten this gig.

***

baby, I'm howlin' for you (87473 words) by hangmanbradshaw

Additional Tags: Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Supernatural Elements, Full Shift Werewolves, think teen wolf meets twilight meets vampire diaries, Vampires, Witches, Werewolf Hunters, it's got all the things, they can shift but any romance stuff happens as humans fyi, Slow Burn, POV Alternating, Protective Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Possessive Behavior, also there's alphas and stuff but it's not abo, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Arranged Marriage, kind of, Also this takes place in like a medieval setting a la game of thrones, rut but not the sexy kind more the cuddly kind, Hand Jobs, Smut, Mating Bites, Accidental Voyeurism, Kinda, Top Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Bottom Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary:

His smirk widened. He may not have been happy about this, but he could appreciate that Bradley gave as good as he got. “I am good, Rooster. I’m very good.”

Bradley stared at him, expression battling between annoyance and what appeared to be a slight amount of amusement and intrigue. Jake continued, “Say, how does a werewolf get the nickname Rooster anyhow?”

Bradley raised an eyebrow. “That’s none of your business.”

Or

The Wolves & Foxes AU

***

When you're ready (45445 words) by The_Splendid_Wren

Additional Tags: I know you all saw it too, Idiots in Love, Hangman is actually not a dick, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rooster POV, Father-Son Relationship, Maverick is just trying to make Goose proud, Phoenix is a bro, Lots of staring into the scenery, Eventual Smut, Finally I have a reason to obsess over Top Gun again, References to Canon, Post-Canon, did i mention Hangman is a momma's boy?, not beta read we die like men, Slow Burn, Homophobic Language, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Therapy is good for everyone

Summary:

After the suicide-mission-that-wasn't the pilots of TOP GUN go their separate ways to enjoy a much earned week of leave. Rooster is set to spend his time with Maverick in an attempt to rekindle their familial relationship but it gets complicated when unresolved trauma from nearly dying keeps him from truly opening up. With a host of other issues like his unknown next assignment and his feelings for a rival paralyzing him, he truly has no idea how he ends up at the Seresin ranch house in Austin, Texas with the object of his desires right in front of him.

Or, Rooster is suffering PTSD and his friends and family try to help him. Whether that's getting therapy or confessing his very deeply buried feelings remains to be seen.

***

I will love you, dear, forever (17574 words) by FlowersOnMyMind

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Alpha Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Explicit Sexual Content, Jake loves Bradley so much, Dagger Squad, Found Family, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Pining, mentioned icemav - Freeform, brief bobnix, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pining Jake

Summary:

"Do you have someone to take care of you?" Jake asks.

"Are you offering, Seresin?"

"Are you asking, Bradshaw?"

or

Jake and Bradley help each other through their ruts and heats.

Jake pines.

***

You Love Him, and No One Else (50269 words) by Sceld

Additional Tags: Pining, LIKE TOO MUCH, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, just a collection of tropes because I Am Cringe, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mostly Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, oh yeah and lots of it, very gay, derogatorily, Family Issues, Idiots in Love, idiots in general honestly, i hate it too don't worry, First Dates, but unofficially, Bad Cooking, Meeting the Parents, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Past Child Abuse, not graphic though, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Baking, Hopeful Ending

Summary:

“I’ve got it,” Jake offers, holding his hand out, but Rooster only tuts disappointedly.

“What kind of host would I be if I made you carry your own bag?”

Jake blanks on a response, his mouth twisting into a smile without his permission. Rooster turns to where Jake can now see the Bronco. Its engine is still running, and it’s warm inside when Jake closes the door behind him, clicking on his seatbelt by feeling along while he stares intently at the glove compartment in front of him, waiting while Rooster puts his bag in the boot. He doesn’t feel as weird as he thought he would, as he probably should. Every conflicting feeling from the F-14 is returning in waves. He’s helpless to resist the pull of the tide. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

 or;

Jake's apartment floods and his only other option is to stay with the last person in the world he wants to spend time with. Shenanigans ensue.

***

there's money for the taking (and the happiness we all deserve) (64769 words) by thegeckbros

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Age Difference, it's 10ish years, Past Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Power Dynamics, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Casual Sex, author built a very elaborate world for like no reason, Tags May Change, Humor, or at least i like to hope, Explicit Sexual Content, Daddy Kink, like it’s a sugar DADDY au so it comes w the territory but still it’s there and it’s heavy

Summary:

“So, what, one of the richest dudes in New York wants to be your sugar daddy?”

“Kinda?” Jake sits back up, straightening up and turning his body towards Javy. “He doesn’t want like sex or anything. He just needs someone to pretend to date so his uncle and PR team get off his back about his reputation.”

or

a sugar daddy au in which jake is a struggling law student, bradley's a billionaire, and they weave a tangled web

***

Speak Softly, Love (67000 words) by Renai_chan

Additional Tags: Mafia AU, Iceman is a Mob Boss, Bradley is his heir, Icemav adore Jake, goose and carole are alive because i said so, Violence, Blood and Injury, tags to be updated as I go, Tattoos, Suit Kink, Lingerie, Rimming, Polyglot Bradley, Gun Violence, Revenge

Summary:

Jake leaves behind his crappy life in Texas and moves to California. There, he meets Bradley, a gorgeous man who works at a charity helping the homeless. They fall in love, and everything is sunshine and rainbows until he learns that Bradley is, in fact, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, heir to the empire of his godfather, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, who rules the underbelly of Los Angeles with ice-cold ruthlessness. Suddenly, Jake find himself embroiled in the dangers of the LA Mafia

***

Forever your begonia (17576 words) by MerielTLA

Additional Tags: Idiots in Love, Enemies to Lovers, Secret Crush, Secret Admirer, Flowers, Language of Flowers, Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a Little Shit, Texan Jake "Hangman" Seresin, no beta we die like goose, Jake needs some romance in his life, Rooster is bad at feelings, unrequired required love, Emotional Constipation, This came out of nowhere, don´t blame me, Ice is alive, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives

Summary:

“This is not for me.” Mickey grinned like a fucking maniac as he held out a small envelope for everyone to see, pointing at the signature in it.

Jake.

The blond felt his world tilt as he frowned at the offending four letters of his name. What. The. Fuck. He pulled the card away from the other´s hand as he looked at the fancy lettering in horrified amazement.

“Oh my GOD! Bagman has an admirer?!” Paybay yelled

or

Jake Hangman Seresin had never gotten flowers...until he did.

***

hanging on to ambiguity

(34033 words) by

haridwar

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Lifeguard Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Surfer Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, First Aid, Head Injury, Mutual Pining, Protective Javy "Coyote" Machado, Protective Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Miscommunication, they're bad at talking again, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV Multiple, Breaking Up & Making Up, Implied/Referenced Sex, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives, Married Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Drunkenness, drunk Jake is a mess, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace is So Done, Hurt Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Jake "Hangman" Seresin Has Daddy Issues, Parental Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Unhealthy Relationships, you might not like Bradley in this one (but you can still love him), Hospitalization, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, everyone gets therapy

Summary:

an accident on the beach, a lifeguard to the rescue, and the repercussions of an unexpected reunion

***

it seemed so natural, darling, that you and I are here (20181 words) by haridwar

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Pilot Bradley Bradshaw, Las Vegas Wedding, Accidental Marriage, Drunken Shenanigans, Memory Loss, the inherent awkwardness of having a crush on the guy you're married to, Javy "Coyote" Machado is a Good Friend, Bradley gets his own Javy to hang out with, Sexual Content, Jealous Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, POV Alternating

Summary:

“Did we really do this?” Bradley asked. It was the first thing he had said since Jake’s brainwave and Jake was not a fan of how upset he sounded. “Are we- did we get married?”

or: what happens in Vegas...

***

you were almost too much for me (9648 words) by haridwar

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Bodyguard Bradley, Past Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Returning Home, Post-Break Up, Love Confessions, Jealous Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Wealthy Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Arguing, Reconciliation, Hopeful Ending

Summary:

Jake’s ex works for his father and that complicates things when he heads back home after The Mission ***

Men Like Us (41265 words) by DancingDisaster

Additional Tags: Breaking Up & Making Up, Getting Back Together, All aboard the Bradshaw-Seresin Shitshow Extravaganza, Idiots in Love, Ice Lives By Popular Demand, A romantic dramedy about two Idiot Flyboys

Summary:

Seresin men love with reckless abandon. It’s put every man before him in the ground.

Jake refuses to be buried.

He flies like he has nothing left to lose (he doesn’t), a one man army (he is), leaving everyone else in the dust (so they don’t leave him). Admiral Kazansky claps him on the shoulder, says he expects great things from him, and Jake’s smile is feral as the rest of his flight school cohort looks on in disbelief.

Hangman, they all say, like Jake’s entire personality was a long con, and he ranks first in class.

Rooster doesn’t look at all.

(They've got history spanning the better part of a decade and they are absolutely, positively not over it.)

***

like shooting stars (12737 words) by bottledyarn

Additional Tags: Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Anxious Jake "Hangman" Seresin, POV Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Texas, Texan Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Getting Together, Soft Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Post-Canon, Just a little pretend relationship, as a treat, Only One Bed

Summary:

“Well," the gate agent said. "Only uniformed military members and their spouses can board priority, but—”

“That works out,” Bradshaw said, his voice tinny and distant in Jake's ringing ears. “Because this is my fiancé.”

If Jake hadn’t been able to choke down a piece of toast this morning, he thought he might be light-headed enough to just pass out right then and there.

--

Jake is trying to fly home for Thanksgiving and not have a panic attack on the airplane. Bradley is trying to skip town and spend the holiday in a mountain cabin to distract from another Thanksgiving alone. Between the two of them, they might both get where they need to go.

***

learning steps (20530 words) by vannral

Additional Tags: Friendship, Getting Together, Oblivious Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Idiots in Love, Pining, POV Outsider, Instructor!Bradley, Teaching, Protective Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Students, Reunions, Eventual Sex, Happy Ending

Summary:

”So, an instructor?”

A straight hit. Bradley shifts uncomfortably on the leather seat and clears his throat. ”… Yeah.”

In which Bradley becomes an instructor after the mission, Jake keeps showing up to his classes and his students are very curious about their dynamic.

***

unsportsmanlike conduct (16871 words) by ginnydear

Additional Tags: alternative universe, NFL, Enemies to Lovers, Bickering, Minor Injuries, Sexual Content, tweets as a plot device, everyone's alive because I say so

Summary:

He didn’t expect there to be highlight reels of him and Jake Seresin arguing and jawing at each other after their first game against each other. His Uncle Mav’s recorded it, saying it’s the beginning of his long, successful career - to have a rival.

 Bradley thinks it’s a pain in the ass.

 or - the hangster nfl au

***

one foot left, and then we're going down swinging (15944 words) by SaintClaire

Additional Tags: Dagger Squad, I put Hangman through the washing machine, but he's fine he comes back out, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives, this is my sand pit, Found Family, life affirming kissing but everyone's pants stay on, for now, attempted abuse of barnyard poultry (not by Hangman), the horse lives, uhhh I don't think this is whump because I kiss it better, but if not let me know, damn good piloting skills, everyone has emotions

Summary:

“I’m still here.” he says, because it helps Bradley to be reminded sometimes. For all he’ll mouth off about Jake never shutting up, the sound of Jake’s voice can get him to drop the rigid set of his shoulders and relax, sit a little easier in the cockpit. “Still on your wing, Roo, just a little further away than normal.”

Jake gets shot down on a mission, tracker blown to smithereens and on his own in enemy territory. The thing about Hangman is that he might be a damn good pilot but that means he comes with the bloody-mindedness to see his shit through. He's got a family to get back to.

***

all my roads lead back to you (17094 words) by liadan14

Additional Tags: Secret Relationship, Secret Marriage, nonchronological storytelling, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Needs A Hug, Jake Seresin Needs A Hug, Communication via interior design, Accidental Marriage, the inherent romanticism of joint financial decisions, Alternate Universe: they weren't exes during the movie, they were just very bad at being a couple, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Size Kink, Jake pavlovs Bradley into having a size kink, just trust me on that last one, outsider pov, Relationship Reveal, Polyamory Negotiations, implied threesome, Implied past Icemav, Current Mav/Penny, Maverick about extremely unhealthy relationships: it was acceptable in the 80s, Penny and Bob are vying for the only braincell in the team championship

Summary:

“Where does this leave us?” Bradley asks eventually.

Jake snorts. “In what way?”

Bradley shrugs. “I don’t know. Emotionally, physically. Legally.”

Jake thinks he might be dizzy. He hasn’t drunk that much tonight, but he has been wondering about the answers to that question for a long time. Finally talking about it…it barely even feels real. “Let’s start with the last one,” he says. “That sounds like the easiest part.”

“Well,” Bradley says gamely. “Legally speaking, I think we’re, like, one piece of paper away from being married.”

***

never had a heart to mend (3735 words) by un_familiar

Additional Tags: Miscommunication, Cheating, (but not really i swear), Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, sorry this took a month to write thats embarrassing, Post-Canon, what do you call pining when youre already dating them, sorry about this (lying)

Summary:

Bradley won’t stop looking at him with concern, laying kisses on his bare back and asking softly, “Are you okay,” until Jake wants to scream You know what you’re fucking doing to me, but he can’t or he won’t and he’s never felt this helpless in his life. The best he can manage is a soft, “Just tired,” turning back into Bradley’s embrace and thinking God, just let me keep this.

***

of a feather (2501 words) by lilgreyarea

Additional Tags: Kid Fic, Halloween, Trick or Treating, Fluff, Post-Canon, Getting Together, (kinda), idk it’s just cute fluffy nonsense

Summary:

jake and his three-year-old daughter, sophie, run into bradley while trick-or-treating

***

The death of piece of mind (27595 words) by MerielTLA

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives, Rooster is bad at feelings, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Amnesia, I blame the title song, Protective Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Injured Rooster, no beta we die like goose, Miscommunication, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, It was supposed to be heavier but it evolved on its own, Hangster, sereshaw, IceMav, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon

Summary:

Last time he had seen Jake, had been fourteen months ago. More than a year since Bradley had escaped, like a coward, and had completely lost contact with the man his body missed with a strength that terrified him. The man that had been there for him as he had woken up, disoriented and scared. The man that had taken care of him, as he fought against his ruined leg and a fucked-up mind.

The one he had abandoned, at the first chance he got.

The man that was his husband, the one he didn’t remember.

 Or Bradley left after losing his memory and forgetting his relationship with Jake, but now he has begun to remember and it's time to get his hubby back. ***

How do you like your coffee? (23355 words) by WaffleToaster

Additional Tags: Memory Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Accidents, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Smut, Sex, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Injury Recovery, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Summary:

Javy receives the first call after Jake makes an emergency landing on the tarmac and Bradley has to deal with the complications that arise.

“Do we get along now?”

“We do, yes. We’re.. good friends.”

“That’s good. Cause you seem like a nice guy, Rooster.” ***

lover be good to me (18920 words) by haridwar

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Baker Bradley, Long-Distance Relationship, Birthday Fluff, like literally so much of it, this one is super birthday centric, Strangers to Lovers, Married Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, as per usual, Parental Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, POV Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Soft Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Sex Toys, Relationship Reveal

Summary:

Jake picks a random coffee shop to go be pensive in when he receives a birthday card he doesn't want and things turn out better than he ever could have imagined

***

you hang me up, unfinished (with the better part of me no longer mine)

(13140 words) by un_familiar

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Getting Together, Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Character Study, javy is the best friend ever, POV Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Jealousy, eventually, complete and total abuse of italics, Pining, the absolute minimum research went into this, do not look too closely at it!, Jake Is A Menace All Of The Time, javy and natasha are sick of them!, Miscommunication, Eventual Fluff

Summary:

There are a million things standing between Jake Seresin and his soulmate–gender, Jake’s tendency to overthink and run his mouth, the fact that his soulmark is high up on his ribs, hidden, the bruises his dad leaves, but the biggest one is probably the simple fact that he has no idea how to love. ***

Got to Make It on My Own (14196 words) by Renai_chan

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Bradley, Omega Jake, Alpha Javy, Accidental Bonding, Drunk Sex, Ex-Somethings, One Night Stands, The Inherent Dubiousness of ABO, Platonic Sex, Javy is the BEST Bro, Marking, Biting, Bonding, Being an asshole as a coping mechanism, Jealous Bradley, Knotting, Idiot Men who Don't Communicate, Angst, Happy Ending

Summary:

Jake and Bradley spend one night together under the heavy, heavy influence of alcohol. It does not go well. But it goes worse for Jake than it does for Bradley because he wakes up with a bonding bite and his new alpha nowhere to be found.

When they're recalled for a special training detachment eight years later, Jake finds out that Bradley doesn't remember giving him the bite at all and Bradley finds out about it for the first time.

It still does not go well. ***

the long way home (5982 words) by nocturnelight

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Canon, Parental Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Parental Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell Raise Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives, Married Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Jake "Hangman" Seresin Needs a Hug, Healing, Therapy, And love communicated through scrambled eggs

Summary:

Jake and Bradley had come in late last night and settled into the guest room of Maverick and Iceman’s beach house. Jake had driven them both up at Pete and Tom’s insistence after Mav’s voice on the phone and Jake’s hand running up and down his back hadn’t been enough to get Bradley to stop shaking when he’d woken up screaming from a nightmare.

He's hoping being there will be good for Bradley, maybe finally get him to talk about how he's been feeling. Because Bradley's the one who's bottling everything up.

And Jake is perfectly fine. He swears.

ENJOY READING! LEAVE COMMENTS FOR THE WRITERS. WOHOO!!

[secret-engima]

Kumo Thoughts

So this will hopefully be quick but the most common take I see for Kumo in the Naruto fandom is that it's a overly militaristic hellhole (pardon the language) that kidnaps and forcibly breeds any bloodline it can get its hands on and like.

I get it?

the Naruto ninja world is absolutely messed up enough to accommodate a village like that. Especially with- *waves at Kiri*, *waves at ROOT*, *waves at Ame*, *wa-*. But I feel like personally I think that's. The shallowest take? Like if that's how you wanna world build it! You can! Lots of angst and interesting subterfuge down that way.

But we seen in canon that shinobi who live in Really horrible villages do tend to go missing-nin en masse; Kiri is the poster child for this, but Iwa and Suna both have some ... pretty noticeable defections. On the flip side the only REAL Kumo missing-nin we see, iirc, are the Kinkaku brothers.

From The First Shinobi War.

Like- what are things we know about Kumo *really* from the show/s?

and the one everyone harps on in worldbuilding- they tried to kidnap Hinata and Kushina.

HOWEVER. The rest of the things we know about them are:

2. Their Raikage is allergic to doors. He refuses to acknowledge doors. He can and will smash through any wall, window, or other non-door entity in order to exit or enter a room when at all possible. This is not the behavior of a Strict Rigid Militaristic Man this is the behavior of a feral gorilla someone stuffed in an office and expected to do paperwork. Which, granted, A is fully capable of doing his paperwork, by all accounts he's actually really good at running his village. But again. This man is allergic to doors or manners and anyone who is willing to arm wrestle Senju Tsunade to get medical assistance for his own men can't be all bad let's be real.

3. Killer B exists. I feel like he alone is enough evidence against the "military breeding program hellhole" fanon but to break it down. This "brother" of A is not actually his brother. In canon, B is literally just- *some kid*, AT BEST a cousin of the previous Jinchuuriki but that is not confirmed iirc, that was among several other kids that were all lined up and told "we need a new Jinchuuriki and A needs a fighting buddy, run at this training dummy and see if you can help him decapitate it" and when B was the one who succeeded they went "congrats you're his brother now, here's your complimentary octopus monster". And like everyone just accepts this? Not a SINGLE person calls B as a fake brother or points out that he and A are not actually related. Not to mention B has the strongest and most stable relationship with his Biju until Naruto and Kurama work out their bromance, and B was rocking that friendship with his biju *years* before Naruto even knew Kurama was a Thing That Existed.

4. B is also beloved by his village. BELOVED. The people adore him and his weird rapping nonsense. And yeah there's flashbacks in the anime to that not being the case when he was first introduced but B was actually able to work on changing their minds. You really think "small feral child rapping at civilians to make them warm up to him" would have flown in Kiri? In Iwa who canonically keep abusing their jinchuuriki to the point of running off? Nope. No sir. B is also allowed to have a team of his own, and seems to not only be an accepted member of the village but also a much trusted and beloved one who is even allowed his own team? Even Konoha doesn't have that good a track record lbr. It took Naruto face punching the guy who just committed genocide on the entire village for Konoha to go "you know what? We like you now".

5. One of the only other jinchuuriki we see that has fully mastered their Biju state and is on good terms with their Biju while also not being a missing-nin (or brainwashed and then immediately dead) is ALSO a Kumo ninja. Namely the holder of the Two Tails. Now on the wiki it says that she was put through a "detestable" training program but we all know how inconsistent Kishi is with... everything worldbuilding ever. And if we go off behavior alone from the brief scenes with her, Yugito Nii is?? Really stable??? And solid with her Biju??? She gave her pawprint for an Uchiha child's book of cat paw prints for crying out loud.

6. throughout the entire show, Jinchuuriki are consistently treated as the lowest class citizens. In basically every village. Naruto in Konoha, Kushina cried when she realized Minato was going to make Naruto a Jinchuuriki and put him through what she went through growing up as one so you know she didn't have a great time either, GAARA is his own entire dissertation on Jinchuuriki treatment and stability, Fuu was raised by the village leader of her village but had zero friends and was canonically super lonely and isolated, Han and Roku straight up ran away from Iwa because of whatever they were put through, a maneuver only repeated in another village by Utakata from Kiri. But in Kumo we find two jinchuuriki who have mastered their biju, are well respected by their peers and fellow citizens, and are basically treated like any other really weirdo ninja from the village barring needing to be monitored with bodyguards in B's case, which is mostly because he keeps running away to go train under rap artists so you can understand why A is ready to go frothing at the mouth feral at his brother sometimes.

All I'm saying is that if even the village's "monsters" are treated that way, why does everyone stick with the fanon that they're a breeding, bloodline stealing hellhole?

Imo it would be WAY more fun to world build Kumo as the feral mountain ninja-mandalorians of the Elemental Nations, who have a reputation for bloodline theft because they keep finding Actual Strays, Refugees from other villages, and Illegitimate bloodline children and going: YO ANYONE GONNA ADOPT THIS? and not waiting for an answer. Your a missing ninja from Kiri and you're fed up with both them and missing-nin life and want to come work for us? Great. Oh you also have a valuable kekkei genkai that can be inherited? Awesome have you heard of our red light district and child support program or better yet our tax deductible program for marrying one of our lovely civilians and raising a family here where no bloodline purges will ever happen ever. Oh you're a stray Uzumaki on the run from bloodline hunters? Well we may have been involved in destroying Uzushio (depends on your fan interpretation since canonically we do not know which villages did that other than Not Konoha) but we also have hot food, good housing, high ninja standards of living, and free weekly entertainment in betting when our Raikage is going to launch his desk at his brother like a high speed missile because B's rapping got too cringy.

Let Hinata's and Kushina's kidnapping either be the exception to their usual playbook of how they acquire bloodlines (hey it's not their fault if the other villages can't keep it in their pants/can't inspire loyalty) OR have it be seen, culturally in Kumo, as something more akin to a rescue mission. Yes these two girls are useful and have useful bloodlines, that's tactically wise, but also have you SEEN how Konoha treats their jinchuuriki? They have seal master princess and are treating her like a dog on a leash! And literally everyone knows what the Hyuuga do to their own kids if they aren't main branch, and we can't rescue any of those kids without their eyeballs exploding and them dying but hey we can snag the heiress and then any kids she has won't have to be branded so-.

Like I feel that would be so much more INTERESTING? Instead of having Konoha be the only "nice" village and make this weird tonal dissonance for how the "nice" village has the most incompetent leadership (Sarutobi) and underground atrocities (Danzo and Orochimaru) while every other village is Horrible All The Time For Everyone why not have Kumo be actually Really Functional and treat their shinobi and Jinchuuriki well and their horrible reputation is *mostly* (not entirely, because. Ninja.) be cultural clashes between the feral mountain ninja and Everyone Else and propaganda from the other villages who would like their shinobi to STOP DEFECTING TO KUMO PLEASE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVE DENTAL.

Seriously I feel like there is so much more you could do with that angle than just "yet another shinobi village that is Bad and Awful and Needs The Power of Friendship yet somehow has this really stupid goofy jinchuuriki man who loves his brother and his village shut up don't think about it".

[jean-vi]

The Volunteer | Jean x Reader

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Marley!Reader Inspiration: “No, I’m not afraid to disappear” - I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers Summary: this choice will have consequences. Genre: Rivals (?) to Lovers, One Bed Trope, Angst, Fluff? Warnings: Implied Major Character Death, SPOILERS S4, Non-canon storyline and timeline, map inaccuracies.  WC: 6.3k A/N: DARLINGGG GUESS WHO’S BACK FROM JAIL?!  Other: Masterlist

     Paradis was peace. It was a place where you could be yourself and feel less afraid than before, which was saying a lot considering your drenched skirts. The man before you was nothing more than a rowdy customer who was already rosy with drink despite the early hour. You had taken the early shift this day so that you could explore Paradis without getting the you missed your shift again talk. Honestly, the people in Paradis were nothing like the ones back at home. They were nicer, even when they were leering in your face with slurred words. You were just glad you were alive. 

    “Miss, miss, please, oh please can I have another–” the man groaned and you delightfully plucked the drink from his hands. It was like stealing candy from a baby. 

    “Sir, I think you’ve had just about enough for today,” you chirped happily. The man seemed disgruntled but easily seemed to forget his rage as a buddy slung an arm around him. Soon enough, a merriment filled the air. 

    “Not even noon yet,” Mrs. Wasatch sighed pleasantly as she bustled through and started clearing tables. You jumped in as well, eager to get your duties over with for the day. Mrs. Wasatch was a squat woman with full hips and a wide rib cage. Her dark hair was curled quite fashionably into a bun, the strands falling just right. Mrs. Wasatch helped run the bar and while she had been skeptical of you, Mr. Wasatch was an avid supporter of Eldian refugees from Marley. 

    “You know they never settle, dear,” Mr. Wasatch bustled through the kitchen door and into the dusty bar. The man always wore the same pitch black work boots and broken spectacles. You had offered to get the cracked glass replaced, but the barkeep had refused. 

    “I’m surprised we don’t hear more complaints from the neighbors,” Mrs. Wasatch laughed and you couldn’t help cracking a smile. You swiped at the stains on the tables and kept your eye on the door. If that pesky watch guard of yours showed up, it would be over. Your day of fun would be canceled and you’d be escorted straight back to the camps. 

    “Hun, you must be just itching to go out and enjoy the sun,” Mrs. Wasatch said with a warm smile, “the day is clear, not a cloud in the sky. When I was your age, all I wanted to do was go outside. Of course, the walls mattered a lot more then, so there was never truly any freedom.” 

    “That must have been awful, Mrs. Wasatch,” you hummed, your mind wandering. 

    “It sure was, darling. Probably nothing worse than your situation though.” 

    It was only then that you noticed she’d stopped wiping the tables down and instead was staring intently at you. You hated the pity in her eyes. You’d much prefer the anger of the protesters to this. She reached out and touched your arm, which forced you to keep a pleasant smile on your face. Her touch burned, just like the hands that had touched you before. Everything was always too hot and you felt like you were going to melt. You needed air. You needed to get outside now. 

    “If you ever want to talk about your experience, please, never hesitate to come to me, darling,” Mrs. Wasatch said softly. Then, she dropped her hand, her smile fading as she followed your eyes to the windows, “you may go.” 

    You didn’t need to be told twice. You rushed to the backroom and took off your apron. Then you hurriedly let down your hair and haphazardly combed your fingers through the strands. You breezed past Mr. and Mrs. Wasatch, giving them thankful smiles. 

    “I’ll see you tomorrow!” You called cheerfully as you left the building. You peered carefully around the corner. A sigh of relief. No one was in sight, which meant you were free to explore beyond the walls without a soldier breathing down your back.

    “I can trust you’ll be staying inside Wall Rose?” 

    Dammit. You froze and plastered a wide smile on your face as you turned towards the all too familiar voice. The man kicked off the wall, shaking out his light brown hair. 

    “Jean!” You greeted pleasantly, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

    “You and I both know that’s untrue.” Jean raised an eyebrow and took a hand out of his pockets to grip your shoulder, “don’t even think of running.”

    “Of course, I wasn’t planning on going outside the walls,” you said with gritted teeth. He didn’t seem convinced, which wasn’t surprising. He rubbed his chin and looked at you intently. 

    “Well, if you need to do errands, I would be happy to join you.” 

    You let your smile drop a little and shrugged off his hand. Not every Marley volunteer had a personal guard to watch them, but not every Marleyan volunteer had escaped into the wilderness three times. Now, it wasn’t out of feeling like a prisoner, that you kept leaving, it was more so out of curiosity. This supposedly dangerous island was probably the best thing that had happened to you. 

    “That’s so kind of you, but there’s no need, Jean.” 

    “I insist.” 

    “No I insist.” 

    “I’ll drop the subject if you tell me where you plan to go.” 

    “The market, of course,” you lied. 

    “That’s so funny, I didn’t know there was a market called ‘outside Wall Maria’!” 

    You shot him a frustrated look and he seemed vaguely amused. He then crossed his arms and sighed.

    “Look, I know you’re interested in what’s outside Wall Maria. I think anyone in the Scouts understands that feeling. It’s safer than before, but somehow the Scouts managed to find you in the restricted areas more than once, so there’s no way we can trust you. I’m sorry, but rules are rules now.”

    “That’s big coming from the faction that overthrew the government.” You smiled, but for some reason a darkness filled his eyes. In fact, the look was somewhat saddened or perhaps nostalgic. The afternoon sun was high and bright, falling over his furrowed brows in a delicate shape. His features were accentuated, the shape of his jaw and the way his nose sloped were illuminated in gold. 

    “Well, I’m going to have to follow you either way.” 

    “Romantic. I like that,” you teased, if only to lighten his mood. Jean had this way about him where he’d go from joyful to serious in a blink of an eye. You’d overheard a few of the other scouts say that he’s been a changed man since learning of the outside world. You looked up, breathing in the chirping birds and the wind that whistled through the buildings. You couldn’t imagine living trapped in the walls, in a constant state of fear. 

    So perhaps now you had begun to feel ashamed, for what you had been taught in Marley. Marley. You turned on your heel and made for the gate out of the wall. The sting of betrayal was still fresh. Your mother’s face, her dreadful face, flashed through your mind. 

    Shaking your head, you waved to the guards, who had seen you pass through enough to know your name, and stepped into the unknown. Well, it wasn’t really the unknown. First, it was a series of Marleyan Volunteer camps and then beyond a rickety wooden fence was familiar territory. You wanted to explore beyond that today. Sadly, Jean just had to catch on to your antics. 

    “It’s so funny, Jean, how these old fences keep Marleyan soldiers tame.” You kicked a log and Jean raised an eyebrow. 

    “They understand that they’re not meant to stay here forever, but it looks like someone didn’t get the memo,” he grumbled. 

    “Well, I can’t imagine this old thing keeping me back,” you chuckled. 

    The man sighed and stepped in front of you. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Jean wasn’t just the little angel singing on your shoulder and was instead a breathing human. He took up space in this world. Did you? It was a question you sought to answer on your adventures. You hiked up mountains, felt the cool air hit your face, and climbed trees. You’d danced in open fields and pressed flowers into a notebook. How could anyone take that away from you? 

    “It’s for your safety. Not just from what’s out there, but also for the people who may not be as happy to see a Marley soldier.” His eyebrows furrowed and while you did admit he had handsome features, they certainly weren’t aided by the saddened look on his face. You wanted to take a wipe to it and bring back joking Jean–the one that would allow you to go out. 

    “Come on, just a little exploration? Just a little?” You smiled and pushed him playfully. He groaned. 

    “You’re never going to let up, are you?” 

    “I was never one to back down on my word,” You gave a mock salute and Jean just rolled his eyes. He ran a hand through his pretty brown locks and then stepped aside. 

    “Fine. I’ll go with you, but only to the wall. If I get in trouble for this, you take the fall,” he eyed you apprehensively, but you couldn’t help seeing a small glimmer in his eyes, “and remember, I’m only doing this so I can keep an eye on you.” 

    “Aw, Jean, I thought we were friends,” you laughed and took his arm as he begrudgingly went and got his horse. You went to untie another, but he made a noise of disapproval. You looked up and he was shaking his head. 

    “Like hell am I letting you ride your own horse,” he patted the space behind him, “you’re riding over here.” 

    You frowned, “I won’t run away, I promise.” 

    “I’d feel a lot better if you just rode with me,” he said and you sighed, walking over. Hopping onto the horse, his hand instinctively went back to grip your thigh for a moment. You bit your lip, but didn’t say anything, “hold on,” he said lowly. 

    And then you were off. You held onto his shoulders at first, but gradually let your arms wrap around his waist as you took off into the open fields outside. It was so wonderful. The fresh air and the breeze. The sun. The landscape was gorgeous in the afternoon as the golden rays of light illuminated the grass. 

    “It’s so pretty!” You shouted over the wind and he glanced back. 

    “What?” He called back. You just laughed. You passed a few villages of people slowly rebuilding since the Scouts retook Wall Maria. You didn’t know how long it would take to reach the wall itself. Then you felt Jean tense under your grip and you looked up. A forest of tall trees. You’d seen it from a distance, but all the times you’d gone on foot it just wasn’t really possible to get there. You’d thought of stealing a horse before, but it wasn’t feasible. Too many soldiers around. 

    “What’s wrong?” You shouted, and this time he heard you. 

    “It’s nothing. Just old memories,” he muttered and it seemed to be mostly to himself, but you still caught some of it. You were quiet at his statement. Old memories. You could understand his tenseness now. You shook off your own ghosts. 

    “You’ve been to the forest before? I’ve always been interested,” you tried to prod a bit more, but didn’t want to push it. He didn’t respond for a long time and then shrugged. 

    “Yeah, I’ve been a lot more than I would have liked.” The horse had slowed to a light walk now and you loosened your grip. You opened your mouth to say more, but he interrupted the silence.

    “It’s getting late. We won’t make it to the wall. Let’s go to a nearby town and find a place to stay for the night. We’ll get to the wall tomorrow,” Jean cleared his throat as he spoke and you sighed as he slowed to a halt. You looked up. The sky was indeed becoming a dusky orange and pink. 

    “Let’s go then,” you said and he was quiet, just turning the horse back towards the last village you had seen. 

    As you rode along the fields, you leaned closer to Jean, “tell me more about yourself, mister,” you teased and he seemed to lighten up a bit. 

    “Well, I’m not sure there’s much to say. I think others would call me a leader of sorts.” 

    “More than your suicidal maniac friend?” 

    Jean’s lips lifted into a grin, “I haven’t heard that name in a while,” he then shrugged a little, “I guess. He’s a different kind of person than I am now,” he glanced back at you, “tell me more about yourself, miss. Like how did you end up as a Marley soldier?”

    You paused at his question and you knew he picked up on your hesitation. You tried to cover it up. You laughed a little, “you already know a bunch about me, Jean. I never stop talking, after all.” 

    He scratched his chin at that as you entered the village. There was still a lively murmur in the air as vendors were packing up their stalls and kids were being ushered back home. Jean found a barn where other horses were being kept and you both hopped off. 

    “Not often we get newcomers,” said the man who took your horse. He had on a wide-brimmed hat and he had this long, white, beard, which he stroked thoughtfully. 

    “Just staying for the night,” Jean said politely, “is there an inn?”

    The man hummed to himself for a moment, scratching his chin, “don’t think so.” 

    “Oh, well, then we’ll head to the next town over–” Jean started, shooting you an apologetic smile. You were just watching the whole interaction with much amusement. It was clear that the man knew who Jean was and was more than happy to have such an important member of the Scouts in town. 

    “Wait, wait, you can just stay with my wife and I! We’ve got a spare room that you and the missus can use,” the man smiled, “and we’ve got two kiddos, but they’re no trouble at all.” 

    Jean raised an eyebrow, “oh, no, we’re not–” 

    “We would love that, sir,” you grinned, interrupting Jean and taking a hold on his arm. Jean seem unamused, but he didn’t contest it as you dragged him along, following the man back to his home. 

    “I’m Peter,” the man introduced as you approached a cozy looking home. The house was a little on the outskirts of the town and had two stories. A yellow candle flickered in the windowsill and you could see two children running around in the dining room. 

    “I’m home! I’ve brought two guests with me, just for the night,” Peter announced as he opened the door. His wife was pretty. She had long brown hair and blue eyes. An apron was tied around her waist as she bustled around the kitchen preparing dinner. 

    “Ah, how wonderful!” She smiled happily and you looked over a Jean. For some reason, he had a forlorn expression on his face, which he easily hid when he noticed you looking. 

    “This is my wife, Greta,” Peter said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and taking a few bowls from the cupboards, “come, come, sit, eat.” 

    You introduced yourself and Jean, which they smiled at. Then you sat down, at the behest of Greta. 

    “How did you two stumble upon this here town?” Greta asked as she began to serve dinner. She ladled big portions of hearty potato soup into the bowls and served you and Jean, then her children, and then herself and Peter. Their children were cute. You estimated them to be about nine and ten. 

    “We’re traveling to Wall–” you began and Jean cleared his throat. 

    “My girlfriend wanted to see the forest of giant trees, since it used to be a big tourist destination,” Jean explained easily and you just followed his lead. You knew he was stressed about people finding out you were Marleyan–even if you were Eldian by blood. People had weird ways of drawing lines. 

    “That’s so sweet, but you be careful out there–although you probably don’t need me to tell you that,” Peter coughed, glancing at Jean’s uniform. You smiled and chuckled, nudging Jean to do the same. 

    “Do you have your swords with you?” One of the kids piped up excitedly. 

    “Yeah! Yeah! Can you show us how to slay titans too?” the other shouted. 

    “Settle down boys, settle down,” Peter said gruffly and Greta shook her head. 

    “I apologize for them, they’ve never seen a soldier in person before,” Greta smiled sheepishly and Jean scratched the back of his neck. 

    “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he said. He reached out and ruffled one kid’s hair, “I don’t have my gear on me right now, but I’ll tell you what, I’ll come back soon and show you, okay?” 

    This was met with a chorus of okays. You raised your eyebrow at Jean, but he only met your eyes for one moment. You weren’t sure if he was lying or not, if he’d have time and actually remember. Then he gave a small shrug. Peter and Greta seemed pleased by Jean’s offer and you supposed it was a small price to pay for the graciousness of them sharing their home. 

    “Our town just got some premium wine the other day, you should share some with us,” Peter offered, standing to grab a bottle from the kitchen counter, “just a little glass to end the night?” 

    You were about to accept–you weren’t one to refuse a drink, but Jean intervened. It was unexpected, but he cleared his throat, “actually, we’ve sort of sworn off drinking for now,” he said, feigning sadness. You shot him a confused look, but hid it well as Peter shrugged. 

    “More for me then,” Peter laughed and Greta rolled her eyes. She cleared the table and started ushering the children to bed as Peter got up, “let me show you to your room.” 

    Up the stairs, you and Jean followed Peter. The narrow staircase led to a hallway with three doors. Peter opened the first door on the left. You and Jean peered inside. 

    “It’s not much, but it’s homey,” Peter said with a firm nod. You gave him a small smile. 

    “It’s perfect, thank you, sir,” Jean dipped his head and Peter shot you both a knowing gaze before slipping away to kiss his kids goodnight. 

    Now alone, you got to thoroughly inspect the room. There weren’t any glaring problems with the room except for, well, except for the bed. You saw Jean grimace as he stepped in fully and you nudged him. 

    “Hey, you don’t have to look so upset about sharing a bed with me,” you yawned, going to take a seat on the edge. You looked up at him and he rolled his eyes. 

    “It’s your fault we’re in this mess,” he said, pinching his nose bridge. Then he rubbed his temple, thinking, “I’ll take the floor,” he finally concluded. You stood and walked over to him. You flicked his forehead, making him look at you with surprise. 

    “Took you long enough to come to that conclusion,” you scoffed, “but I don’t think it’s necessary. I’ll just scoot over and it’ll be no problem,” you gestured to the bed. He gave you a funny look and sighed. 

    “It’s unprofessional. I can’t.”

    “And I say you can,” you gave him a disapproving look, “you’re acting like it’ll be the end of the world.” 

    His ears went red and he looked away, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

    “Maybe not, but the Scouts have had worse ideas, don’tcha think?” You grinned fiendishly and while he initially seemed unamused, you did catch a crack of a smile. Jean was so serious, for as long as you knew him, but you’d heard he’d been quite childish once. Maybe it was before all this Marley and Paradis thing started. Well, really it had gone on for centuries, but it was a relatively new part of Jean’s life.

    It had gotten dark and you went over to the window to light the oil lamp. You had slowly been getting used to the ways of Paradis, but you weren’t completely familiar. You hadn’t grown up here and learning to ride a horse had taken a bit of time. Jean watched you fiddle with the lamp and he went to sit on the bed. He wasn’t putting up any more complaints, so that was nice. Truly, you were suggesting you share the bed because you felt bad for dragging him all this way. 

    There was a long silence as you lit the lamp, basking the room in a warm glow. You glanced over at him, his profile. A sharp jaw and stubble complementing brown hair. 

    “Hey,” you called softly, “I can take the floor if you’re really uncomfortable with it.” You walked over to him, lamp in hand, “I’m sorry I dragged you all this way, Jean. I just wanted to have some fun.” 

    He didn’t respond for a long time. Then his eyes slid over to you and he let out a deep breath. You set the lamp down on the nightstand and waited for him to speak.

    “No, no, it’s fine,” he said as he unlaced his boots and tucked them under the bed. You did the same on the other side and then you both lay on top of the covers like two sticks. He was tense and you were being careful to keep the room. You shut your eyes, but you couldn’t sleep with him just laying there, stock-still, next to you. Finally, he broke the silence. 

    “You’re so tense.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice and when you turned your head, opening your eyes, he was staring at you. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

    “Can’t sleep,” you mumbled, turning back to look at the ceiling. 

    “And?” 

    You eyed him and rolled onto your side to look at him. He mirrored you. 

    “I don’t know, Jean. Maybe you should bore me to sleep, as per usual,” you huffed. 

    You could tell he wanted to rebuff you, but he just shook his head with exasperation, “fine. I’ll humor you.” He hummed to himself for a moment, thinking, “I’m going to quit drinking.” 

    You raised an eyebrow, “I said boring, Jean,” you then smiled a little, “so you weren’t lying earlier.” 

    He shook his head, “I just think it’s been something I’ve used as a crutch for a while now, but I should really get out of the habit. Too many things happening lately, I need to have a clear head.” 

    You nodded at his words. He was right. God damnit, Jean Kirstein was right. There was another silence and you averted your eyes, tracing the pattern on the wallpaper behind him with your eyes. 

    “You never really told me how you got in this position,” he said and your eyes flicked back to his. His words made your heart clench uneasily. 

    “I don’t know what you mean,” you muttered. 

    “Yes, you do. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just your past, but I doubt it will change what I think of you.” 

    You fixed him with a hard stare for once and he didn’t back down. You let out a breath and rolled onto your back. Your past felt so far away on Paradis, but it wasn’t so long ago that it all happened. You closed your eyes for a moment and then began your story. 

    “My family has been Eldian in Marley for generations now. We were always good Eldians. We never stepped out of line, never talked back. I have a brother and a sister, but they’re a lot younger than me,” you smiled a bit at the thought of them. 

    “You’ve never mentioned them.” Jean said quietly. 

    “Didn’t think it was important,” you shrugged. More like you didn’t want to let anyone know any intimate part of yourself, because that would mean they could hurt you. You’d already been hurt enough. “I was my mother’s favorite. My father was busy trying to support us financially.” 

    You rolled over to look at Jean. To your surprise, he was listening quite intensely, his eyebrows furrowed together. Maybe he could tell that for once you were being truly sincere, that you were telling the whole truth. 

    “The signs were there, but I didn’t want to believe them. My mother started disappearing at night, when she thought no one would notice. But she was my mom, so I always noticed,” you sat up a bit, pulling your knees to your chest. For some reason, recounting your history out loud seemed to bring out this vulnerable side of you, the side that wanted nothing but comfort and love. You didn’t like that. You wanted to be unshakable. 

    You cleared your throat, “and, well, she betrayed us. She joined the rebellion, but she got caught, of course. They threatened to kill our whole family, but I volunteered to join the military instead. And for penance, my siblings will need to join when they are of age as well,” you bit your lip. You couldn’t believe you’d left them. You wondered if they were still alive. 

    “I felt ashamed. I still love my mother, but I hate her for what she did to our family. And then I think I just hate Marley for making things work this way,” you mumbled, burying your face in your knees.

    Things were quiet, but you felt Jean’s eyes on you. And then you felt his hand on your back, “you have every right to feel this way. I hope you can find peace knowing you did the right thing for your family.” 

    You let out a mixture of a laugh and a sigh, “I don’t know if I did. I don’t know if dooming my siblings to a life of serving in the military is any better. I’m just prolonging their death sentence. It’s selfish of me to want to have fun and explore on Paradis while they suffer at home.” 

    Jean nodded a little and pulled your form against his body, enveloping you in his warmth, “You want to know a little secret?” He asked. You nodded silently against his chest, “It’s my job to stop you from wandering off, but secretly I admire you. And I feel encouraged by your energy. It reminds me of all the hopeful Scouts who dared to go beyond the walls in search of freedom. I wish I was still like you. Sometimes, I’m scared to let people in because people in my life seem to die whenever I do.” 

    “You are, Jean, oh gods, you are just like me,” you laughed a little and looked up at him. It felt right to be in his arms, “I can see it in you, sometimes. It’s a flash, but I still see some of the horseface boy that they used to talk about.” 

    His cheeks grew red, “hey, how do you know about that?” he stammered. 

    “I have my ways.” 

    You felt your eyelids growing heavy, “Hey, Jean,” you mumbled, “you’re a really good guy. I hope you know that.” 

    He was quiet as you drifted off to sleep. You heard him reply, but you didn’t register his words at all. 

    The next morning, he was gone. You awoke, bewildered. There was an indent in the shape of him next to you, but you were holding onto nothing. You stumbled out of bed, pulling on your shoes and combing your hands through your hair. 

    “Jean?” You called, testing the waters to see if he was just in the bathroom or something. But no, you didn’t see him or hear him. You cursed under your breath and hurried downstairs. Greta was bustling around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. It smelled delicious, but you didn’t have time to think. You raced to the front door. 

    “Oh, honey, he just left. He said he’d send someone for you, but he needed to leave urgently,” Greta said, but even she seemed to know it was a lie. She gave you a knowingly sad look. You just took deep breaths, chest heaving up and down. It was all reminding you of your mother leaving, your back against the wall as everyone gave you pitying looks. 

    “No, no, he wouldn’t.” you whispered, “no, he was–” you stopped yourself, swallowing, “he was going to take me to the forest of giant trees.” 

    Greta nodded sympathetically, ushering you to sit, “it’s okay dear, these things happen. I’m sure he’ll explain it to you later,” she said reassuringly. She plated you some breakfast, but you politely declined. 

    “Sorry, I just need a moment to think,” you said, out of breath. You felt like you couldn’t breathe properly. It was like the world was closing in. Why did he leave you so suddenly? Was it because you finally opened up? Because he was scared of holding you? Maybe there was something fundamentally and irrevocably wrong with you that caused everyone to leave. 

    “I’ll give you a moment,” Greta murmured softly, swiping her hands on her apron and heading upstairs. 

    The second she left the room, you knew you needed to leave. But how? You stood. You needed to steal one of their horses. You clenched and unclenched your fingers, pacing. Think, think, think. You grabbed the wine from last night and took a swig for encouragement. Then you set it down, wiping your mouth. 

    “Sorry,” you squeaked quietly upstairs. Then you bolted out the door and towards where they kept the horses. Indeed, Jean’s horse was gone. There were two more in the barn and you managed to soothe one enough to let you ride it. You were off not a moment later. You needed Jean to do some real explaining and you were going to kick his ass. 

      But when you got back, they’d assigned you a different guard. Jean was nowhere to be found and you were losing hope of seeing him again. You didn’t know what you’d done to make him so upset, but you wished you knew. 

    After some time had passed, you barely left the bar where you served customers. Mr. and Mrs. Wasatch were growing concerned as your adventurous spirit had dwindled. It made the new guard’s job a lot easier. You just wanted to see Jean again. For the first time in a while, someone had finally made you feel comfortable, and now he had the audacity to rip it away from you? 

    One day, the bar was closing and you were clearing off tables. Mrs. Wasatch was counting the register and Mr. Wasatch was shooing out the stragglers. Then the bell rung, signaling another customer. 

    “We’re closed,” Mrs. Wasatch began, not looking up. But you looked up and saw a swatch of familiar blonde hair. 

    “Niccolo!” You called with a grin. Both Mr. and Mrs. Wasatch looked up. Seeing that you seemed to know the man, they gave a nod of approval. Niccolo stepped in, his usually happy expression shifted to something more serious. You sensed the changed in his attitude and waved him over to you. 

    “It’s been a while, how have you been?” you greeted pleasantly, but Niccolo looked pale, nervous. 

    “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?” Niccolo muttered and you looked behind him at the Wasatches. You then nodded and pulled him into the backroom. 

    “What’s up?” you asked, concern knitting your eyebrows together, “is everything alright, Niccolo? You look…scared.” you reached out, gently steadying him with a hand. He returned the favor, but his grip was deathly tight on your arm. 

    “Have you had any wine?” He inquired quietly, but urgently. 

    You stayed quiet, trying to remember. Then you remembered that morning. The moring after Jean left you. You just averted your eyes as you got the sense this wasn’t the answer he wanted. He could tell. He inhaled sharply and looked at your face. 

    “You need to get out of here. Now.” He ordered, his face growing paler by the minute. 

    “Hold on, Niccolo, tell me what this is all about,” you implored him, now slightly panicked as well. 

    “The wine. It has Zeke’s spinal fluid in it. He wants to turn everyone into goddamn titans when he returns to start the rumbling,” Niccolo hissed and you felt the color drain from your face. Now you could understand what his panic was about. Shit. Shit. Shit. Your eyes must have been wide because Niccolo shook you slightly. 

    “There’s still time to leave.” 

    “I can’t.” 

    “What?”

    “I can’t leave. I still have things to finish up here,” You repeated. 

    “Like what? Talking to that guard? Yeah, everyone knows about you and your guard,” he scoffed, “come on, he hasn’t tried to reach out to you–”

    “He’s just scared,” you bit back fiercely, “he’s just scared of commitment. He’ll come back.” 

    Niccolo’s gaze dropped and he deflated, “I can’t stop you. Just know it’s not the right choice.” 

    But maybe Jean was always the right choice. 

      He didn’t show. He didn’t show when the wine poisoning had been revealed. He didn’t show when you got your armband. You felt like you were being branded again. You just stared. Mr. and Mrs. Wasatch had given you time off as you waited around for the inevitability of your demise. It was a pointless existence. And so you were determined to find Jean. 

    Early one morning, you packed your things and left, bidding a quiet goodbye to the lovely couple who had taken you in. They had, by some miracle, not had a single drop of the wine. 

    It took you a while to find Jean and when you did, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You couldn’t just confront him. It didn’t feel right. And suddenly you felt foolish for following him still. But he was right there. He was standing, talking to his friends, laughing. 

    You watched for a moment, then you slinked off, finding an inn to stay in for the next few nights. You knew tensions were rising, you just didn’t know what they would end up amounting to. The volunteers were never told much, not even as much as the citizens. The citizens barely knew anything either. You just knew some were behind Eren Jaeger and others weren’t. You were on Jean’s side though. 

    It took another day until you found Jean again. This time, he was alone. It was getting late at night and you were following him, being indecisive of whether to approach him or not. You kept your eyes on the ground, thinking, as you walked. And then you looked up, the cloak around your shoulders swaying a little .

    Dammit. You lost him. And then you felt a breath near your ear and his presence behind you. 

    “Why are you following me?” he said lowly. 

    You turned and his expression softened. He stepped back, “why are you here?” he asked quietly, “how?” 

    You had so much you wanted to say. So much. But the first stupid thing that fell out of your lips was, “you left me.” and it sounded like a kid crying out for their mother. His eyebrows furrowed and he pulled you close to him, but you pushed him back. 

    “Why did you leave me?” You demanded, your voice hushed fury. 

    Jean stared at you for a moment and then he averted his gaze. He had the decency to look guilty, “honestly, I don’t know. I woke up and I just, I needed to go.” 

    “You just don’t like me,” you said flatly and he shook his head. 

    “No, no, it’s not like that at all. I…I think I like you too much. I was scared it would eat me alive and you would leave soon anyway. You have a family back home,” he said softly. You bit your lip. 

    “I believe you, Jean. I really liked you too,” your hand moved up under your cloak to cover the armband that gave away your poisoned status. 

    “Liked?” he whispered. 

    “Yeah.” you turned away.

    “Wait, surely you didn’t travel all this way to just tell me that,” he said, reaching out and grasping your cloak. You pulled away harder. 

    “Maybe I did,” you bit back. You weren’t a violent creature, you didn’t know why you were lashing out at him. The cloak slipped off your shoulders into his hands. You both froze. You both froze because you both saw it at the same time.

    You reached up, quickly covering your arm, “hey, you don’t drink, right, Jean?” you asked lightly, barely turning to look back at him. But you saw his drained expression. 

    “I–”

    “Good.” You whispered. 

    “When did it happen?” 

    “The morning you left. I took a swig for courage, how else?” you murmured. 

    “I’m sorry.” 

    “It’s too late, Jean. I think you just need to let this go. I need to let this go.” 

    “We were never anything at all,” he said, defeat tinging his words. 

    “Maybe that’s the worst part of all.” You turned fully then and cupped his face in your hands, “don’t dwell on a Marley traitor.” 

    “How could I not?” he leaned down, but you dodged his kiss. 

    “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” you sighed. 

    “Do you want this?” he asked and you hesitated. 

    “Yes, I do. More than anything. But I–” 

    And he leaned in again, his lips pressing against yours with a needy passion. The kiss of someone who had no time, but he was stretching it as far as he could. You returned the kiss with equal passion and when you pulled away, out of breath, cheeks rosy, he grinned. It was a smile that quickly slipped away when you stepped back. 

    “Bye, Jean.” 

    “Don’t go.” 

    You clenched your hands, “I’m sorry.” 

    And then you were gone. 

Fin.

[where-dreamers-go]

"Sparks Of Rebels" Ezra Bridger x Reader — Part One

(A/N: This takes place during season four in this soulmate au; after episode four. For the sake of storytelling, I made up two planets and some Imperial officers. Warnings: minor angst, canon violence, and use of (Y/F/N) for your first name, (Y/L/N) for your last name, and (Y/N) for your name. Word Count: 7,870 words)

~~~

The galaxy was wide and spacious with systems varying from livable ecosystems to the most uninhabitable. Even in some cities it seemed a difficult place to live lately.

You did your part to help those who needed it. A load of food portions in one town, a crate of medicine for another, and so on. Such was living in the Galactic Empire.

Each trip to a system managed to be calm enough. No suspicious glances your way. No raised alarms.

Your luck turned sour on a Mid Rim planet. Apparently Imperial forces were thorough and extremely present.

Just a simple questioning, you thought as you clenched your hands together in front of you. We’re not even in an office or anything. Places to run and hide. Troopers everywhere though.

You watched as a pair of stormtroopers shoved a civilian away. Free to go it seemed.

“Next.” A stoic Imperial officer announced without glancing up from his datapad.

You stepped forward.

I’m guessing I shouldn’t say ‘hello’.

“ID.”

Reaching into a secure pocket, you managed to slip out your ID card without fumbling.

Another officer, a woman with dark eyes, snatched the card from you. “Commandant, sir.”

A few seconds passed and you knew they were seeing every public file on you. Not just a little never-wracking.

I didn’t do anything wrong.

“You’re a long way from home,” the Commandant said. “Found business out here?”

“The culinary HoloNet has too many recommendations for me to pass by…sir.” You said in as light a tone as you could.

Being calm wouldn’t be good enough, it only made you suspicious.

“There’s this dessert pie that more than a dozen people showed just this week. It has an added layer of dark ch—”

He rose his hand, “That’s enough.”

You nodded.

Eager to please makes some uncomfortable. That’s safe.

“We’ve been having trouble with insurgents entering systems and causing unprovoked chaos in our Imperial cities. We must catch any insurgents before they hurt any citizens.”

Sure, you thought.

He met your gaze. “I will not let any pass into my city.”

“More systems should add these security measures.” You said politely without gagging. An added smile for good measure framed your face.

“Indeed.” The Commandant straightened his back and after a moment made a gesture to the lower ranking officer.

She took back your ID and headed to you once more.

“Then,” continued the man, “you will approve of our new precautions.”

A shiver of cold warning went through your veins.

New precautions?

Gingerly, you retrieved your ID card, but in the same moment the woman grabbed your left wrist in a vice grip. You took a step back.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

She pulled back your jacket’s sleeve.

“It’s all for the good of our beloved Empire,” promised the Commandant. “Let’s see if you can be of service.” He walked over to the pair of you.

Reaching to her hip, the woman pulled out a large sensor you hated to see in the hands of an Imperial. She scanned over a group of unique symbols on your forearm. Unreadable to some.

Kriff. Why would they need to know my soulmate’s name? You thought as anxiety built in your stomach. They can’t read it.

By the surprised expressions on their faces that quickly morphed into sickening grins, you knew it was only good news for them.

Ezra Bridger, what have you done?

. . .

Sitting in the Phantom II, Ezra gazed into the blue sky of Yavin IV in need of peace.

Sure, he was in a growing rebellion, but he required time to sort out his thoughts. His feelings lately that didn’t match his surroundings.

“You want to talk about it?” Kanan asked from behind him as he entered the small ship.

“It doesn’t add up,” Ezra sighed. “Everyone’s safe. No one is even on a mission and I feel like — like something’s wrong.” He turned to Kanan, the man appeared contemplative even while wearing an eye shield mask.

“True, from your perspective. If the Force is trying to tell you something, you need to be more open to listen.”

“More listening,” Ezra scratched his left forearm lightly. “All right.”

“You have to be willing to listen…even if it might not make sense at the time,” Kanan added.

Right. Willing to listen, Ezra thought as he closed his eyes.

Breath evening and deepening, the Jedi opened his mind. All thoughts quieted just as the ship he sat in.

Sitting with his padawan, Kanan joined in the meditation.

In moments of uncertainty, Ezra was grateful to have the members of the Ghost crew. His family. People he cared for who cared for him in return. A closeness that reminded Ezra that he wasn’t alone.

An image flashed through Ezra’s mind and hit him with anxiety.

He gasped.

“What did you see?” Kanan asked.

“Something unexpected. Someone I don’t—no—I know who they are,” Ezra turned to Kanan. “They’re in trouble. I didn’t see their face, but they’re scared. Maybe trapped.”

“Someone from Lothal?”

“No.”

This could be worse, he thought.

Before either Jedi could discuss further, Zeb rushed in through the hatch.

“Hey kid, there’s, uh,” Zeb rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “There’s some intel you should probably know. Hera just got it in.” He pointed behind him.

“Lead the way,” said Kanan as he stood up. “I have a feeling we’ll need to hear this.”

“Right.” Zeb offered Ezra a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Maybe the news won’t be too bad. If it’s about them.

The three rebels fast-walked, practically trotted, to a briefing room within the ancient building. When they walked in, only Hera, Sabine, and Chopper were present.

What kind of intel is it? Ezra wondered as he noted the lack of people normally occupying the space.

“Ezra,” Hera said softly.

His stomach twisted and Ezra asked, “What happened?”

She exhaled slowly as the crew gathered around the holotable.

No one looked him in the eye and it only made him worry to think of the image he saw. A movement of someone’s arm with ancient symbols, soulmate language. Difficult to read if it wasn’t your own name or of your soulmate.

Is my soulmate in trouble? He almost asked out loud.

“The Empire has been mentioning your name increasingly, Ezra,” Hera announced as she stood near him, “but not because of your last mission.”

He swallowed.

“The Empire has your soulmate, Ezra.”

“Karabast.” Zeb groaned.

Heart sinking, Ezra asked quietly, “How would they even know?”

“The Empire has its ways.” Kanan crossed his arms over his chest. “This is new, even for them.”

“Unfortunately,” Sabine stepped in, “they’ve also acquired some expensive tech.” She pressed a button and a hologram of a bulky datapad-looking device with a scanner displayed itself. “It scans, translates, and inputs soulmate symbols. They could be storing the information for blackmail.”

“When did they get shipments in?” Kanan asked.

“That’s the thing. The Empire doesn’t have any record of purchasing or designing the scanners. No plans. No prototypes. Nothing.”

“Do we know where they have (Y/F/N)?” Ezra inquired, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach as he spoke your name in front of everyone.

“Marvis Three. Mid Rim system,” Hera answered. “Comandant Irfon Dawes has been holding (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N) for nearly a week.”

“A week?”

“Probably this Commandant is looking for a promotion.” Zeb growled. “A dirty way to try to catch us.”

“It’s clever, I’ll give him that.” Hera said before glancing to Ezra. “I’m sorry, Ezra.”

“Me too,” the young Jedi murmured.

Placing a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, Kanan asked an important question. “When are we heading out?”

. . .

Kicking your feet in the air above the terrible excuse for a bed, you spent your time away. The dimly lit cell reminded you more and more of how hallow the Empire was. No warmth. No emotion. Lacking creativity.

No entertainment or actual respect for someone being used as bait!

Such was your eighth day locked up in an Imperial building. Not even a prison.

How many Imperial facilities and whatnot have cells? You thought from your odd position on the floor. That’s really messed up. They could throw stormtroopers in on slow days or for messing up on patrols. They’re rotten like that.

Each day, each hour, had you mainly by yourself. Except for specific times of they day when you were given food or escorted to use the refresher. They wanted you alive. Comfort wasn’t in the Empire’s vocabulary or manual. Not for anyone of a lower rank.

Bait remains hidden, you thought, a tease for the true prey. Disgusting. You rolled over and sat up. Would it be so awful if my soulmate came to the rescue? Commandant Dawes would be thrilled. To capture Ezra and the other rebels. You threw your head back. He shouldn’t have to. I’m just one person. What are the odds of me escaping on my own?

How many hours had you stared at the same gray walls imagining great escapes and exciting introductions?

You had nothing better to do.

The worst of those thoughts were ones where your soulmate never showed or the greedy Commandant got exactly what he wanted. Either way, you were sunk. Using your personal guarantee to know who your soulmate was for their own gains sent a fire through you.

Down with the Empire.

. . .

Ezra Bridger was many things and being someone’s soulmate was one he rarely allowed himself to identify with. Years of being alone on Lothal, he didn’t want to give himself false hopes of meeting someone who was lightyears away. It was easier then to ignore his soulmate’s name on his forearm.

Being a Jedi in a rebellion against the Galactic Empire gave Ezra more moments to hope. To dream. To imagine a better future for others as well as himself. Together, much more was possible.

He still wanted to return to Lothal to help. Ezra couldn’t just leave his home in trouble, especially when the danger was the Empire. They’d find a way, he knew that. Their own way not Saw Gerrera’s way of rebelling.

Ezra had to be patient. At least his soulmate didn’t have to be. Every second counted.

Saving you from the hands of Imperials in the middle of what was obviously a trap could be possible. They had more difficult missions in the past.

At least there shouldn’t be an Inquisitors where we’re going, Ezra thought in mild relief. Unless this Dawes guy has been blabbing to show off his plan.

The Ghost was still in hyperspace as Ezra sat on the floor of his shared room. The mission was not merely personal. Marvis Three held large transmitter and data logs for Imperial movement in that sector. Plus any saved soulmate names. A double mission.

Ezra feared there wouldn’t had been an agreement to use resources on a rescue mission for someone unknown in regards to fighting against the Empire.

(Y/F/N) isn’t no one and if the Empire wants them, Ezra thought of his words he used on Yavin Four, we need to save them.

They would save you. Ezra knew that and would hold onto that until you were safely aboard the Ghost. Then the Empire would hopefully take a hint.

And stopping any more Imperials from trying to bait people with their soulmates wouldn’t be bad either.

He exhaled slowly.

Who knew being a rebel meant a lot of waiting?

The door in front of him slid open to reveal Kanan.

“How are you holding up?” The Jedi asked as he stepped into the room. “People usually find their soulmate on their own.”

“We’re talking about soulmates now?”

“If you want.” Kanan shrugged.

Blue eyes peered down to the flooring.

It’s a lot.

“I figured if I ever met my soulmate,” Ezra explained, “it would be a surprise.”

“Too bad the Empire ruined the surprise, huh?”

“Yeah!” Ezra gestured widely. “What if (Y/F/N) ends up hating me because of all this?”

“Hey,” he said reassuringly, “this isn’t your fault. I’m sure they’ll understand. Not to forget, we don’t even know what your soulmate was doing when the Empire grabbed them. Maybe they’ve been rebelling in their own way.”

Ezra’s shoulders lowered. “I haven’t thought of that. The fighting against the Empire part.”

They could be doing anything.

“Do you… Do you think my soulmate would support the rebellion? Everything we’re doing?”

“Only one way to find out.” Kanan said confidently. “And make sure to make a good first impression.”

Squinting up at the Jedi, Ezra said, “I’ll be breaking them out of a cell. That’s kind of a big first impression.”

“No,” he put a hand on his hip, “I meant introduction. Like, what are you going to say when you first meet them?”

“My name…”

Confused by Kanan’s words on what Ezra considered the easy part, the young Jedi stood up.

“Were you trying to give me soulmate advice?” Ezra asked.

“You’ll be fine,” he turned to leave.

“Wait. Did you embarrass yourself when you first met Hera?”

“Forget it.”

Laughing, Ezra followed after Kanan with every intention of questioning Hera later.

But entertaining stories had to wait. Daydreams of introducing you to the whole Ghost crew had to be set aside.

All spirits had to focus.

“Arriving at Marvis Three,” called Hera over the ship’s comm system.

. . .

Not good. Not good. You mentally repeated as two stormtroopers lead you down another hall on a completely different level than the cell you had been bunking in. What else are they planning?

Despite having walked a good distance and a cramped ride on an elevator, you had not seen one view outside. Not even a resemblance of an exit. Even so, the binders on your wrists hindered comfortable walking.

Being moved out of a cell can’t be good. You thought as you continued to follow one trooper as the second walked behind you, both armed with a standard blaster. It’s not like I know anything useful for them.

At the end of the hall two stormtroopers stood guard by a door. Once the three of you reached it, nods were exchanged. If they talked inside of their helmets you didn’t hear.

I’m still bait, right?

The door slid open and you almost groaned.

“Ah. There you are, said the Commandant Dawes clapping his hands together once. “Bring them in. You’re my guest of honor.”

Your two stormtrooper escorts urged you forward into what must be Dawes’ office.

“Should I expect appetizers or a sho?” You questioned rather dryly.

He picked up a tall glass and took a sip before replying, “The show’s just beginning.” With a flick of a finger he deactivated the shade of a long viewport behind his desk.

Outside, backdropped by a blue sky, a small group of ships bobbed and weaved between TIE Fighters. Firing was exchanged as much as they grew closer to the building you stood in.

You took a step closer to the desk.

“Your rebels have come for you. They are mot predictable. Always wanting to try outsmarting the Empire.” Dawes grinned. “They haven’t met me yet.”

They did come, you thought as you couldn’t ear your gaze from the sight in the skies. They are rebels. My soulmate stands against the Empire.

Over the course of the week, Dawes had filled random evenings with cautionary tales about your soulmate and his associates. He found them dull and childish given their lack of loyalty to his beloved Empire.

At the time of Dawes’ little talks, you weren’t sure what information to believe. You were starting to have many rapid realizations as you saw a light freighter going after TIE Fighters.

“Eventually they’ll have to land as per our instructions,” the Commandant took another sip of his drink, “after all this frivolous business is over with. Then I’ll be making the call to Lord Vader. Like to see a grand admiral do that.”

A cold, sickening feeling filled your stomach and sunk to your legs.

“I have over thirty stormtroopers ready by Landing Pad Two. If they want to land here, they must cooperate.”

“What will you do with them?”

“Capture them,” he assured you with a smile. “Announced and deliver the rebels to Lord Vader—or the Emperor himself. After heavy interrogation of course. Can’t leave other criminals out there.”

Your gaze hardened on the man.

Loyal to the Empire all right.

“What’s in it for you?” You questioned, voice stronger.

“Full of questions today, aren’t you? Just watch the fun. I’ll let you see your soulmate eventually. Maybe during interrogation. You can tell Ezra Bridger all about those culinary holos. How’s that sound?” Dawes taunted.

“Fantastic,” you answered sarcastically.

“Let’s make this more exciting, shall we?”

. . .

“Let’s make it fast,” Kanan ordered into his comms, “they’re giving Phoenix Squadron a warm welcome.”

“Roger that, Spectre-One,” came Sabine’s voice.

“You got it?”

“Almost,” Ezra announced before successfully slicing open a door.

Both Jedi ducked inside the Imperial building fully alert.

On the opposite side fo the large building, Zeb and Sabine left the Phantom Two with Chopper under the ledge of a lower part of the multi-sided building. They were to download and erase data from Dawes’ operation. Too personal for his rank.

Ezra and Kanan on the other hand were making their way down to the lower cell block. For all the sides the building had, its layout was pretty straight forward. Like a stack of grids or how the Empire usually stores crates. Nothing exciting.

With more attention being held by Hera and the few volunteers from Phoenix Squadron, the Jedi hoped to slip in before security realized their breach.

“This is totally a trap, right?” Ezra asked in a near whisper.

“Yeah.” Kanan answered as they came to a stop at an interior door. “Probably heavily armored.”

“A dozen or more bucketheads.”

They opened the door and were instantly met with an intersection. No stormtroopers in sight. Yet.

“Yeah. This is definitely a trap,” Kanan muttered.

Closing his eyes, Ezra reached out into the Force. Most of the cells were empty, but only one had multiple being stationed there.

“Right hall. Plenty of bucketheads.”

“Got it.”

Taking point, Kanan passed the threshold and turned where Ezra indicated.

Both Jedi grabbed their individual lightsaber as the next door they approached slid open.

No less than eight Imperial stormtroopers.

Huh, Ezra thought, I thought they’d have more down here to stop us.

“Jedi?” One stormtrooper shouted from the back of the group as they took offensive positions.

Surprise!

“It will be a lot easier on you guys if you just s—”

PEW PEW PEW

Blaster fire lit up the dull hallway and the Jedi all ready had their lightsabers moving. Block, redirecting, and deflecting each bolt that came too close. Blurs of red, green, and blue. All movements and a scene similar to other moments of fighting back against the Empire.

This was different. Personal on a level Ezra had never known. Members of the Ghost crew had been captive and prisoners before, most in the hands of Imperials. This time the Empire was playing dirty. They had Ezra’s soulmate.

Ezra hadn’t even met you yet and some Imperial had the nerve to use you to lure them in? The Imperial’s motive were clear. Why else ‘leak’ information such as a name and location of Ezra Bridger’s soulmate?

The rebels needed to save you and destroy any saved data on citizens’ soulmates. Annoying an Imperial officer in the process would be a bonus.

“Ahh!”

Using the Force, Ezra had pushed three stormtroopers against the wall as well as one another.

A flourish of blue light and a red blaster bolt had a stormtrooper dropping a blaster. Kanan pushed that trooper further down the hall.

Four more to go, Ezra thought a millisecond before he leapt up to the wall and pushed off towards the closest white armored being. In a blink of an eye and a breath, that stormtrooper cushioned Ezra’s landing.

Offensive position compromised and barely hanging on, one would think the Imperials might surrender. These few didn’t. Their next minute of trying to overpower the two Jedi was commendable, but ended with possible concussions.

“All right,” Kanan said. “Deep breath.”

No time, Ezra thought as he busied himself unlocking the cell door. I can be nervous about what to say to (Y/N) later.

A hiss of the door sounded and Ezra about tripped into the cell trying to get inside fast enough. Luckily his lightsaber was clipped to his belt.

Karabast, he thought as he caught himself and looked to the person sitting on the flat cot with crossed arms.

The person wore an orange Imperial prisoner jumpsuit, black shoes, and an impatient expression on their face.

“Hey, we came to get you out of here.” Ezra announced. “I’m Ezra and,” he gestured behind him, “that’s Kanan.”

“(Y/N).” They said plainly as they stood up. “You took care of the Imperial stormtroopers?”

“Yeah and there will probably be more. Let’s go.” Kanan urged.

“Right.” Ezra shook his thoughts clear. There was a mission still to finish and he couldn’t keep looking at his possibly tired soulmate. He couldn’t blame them with the situation they were in.

Before Ezra could add any commentary, (Y/N) had walked passed him.

The warmth and excited sparks of meeting his soulmate dropped as they didn’t so much as glance at him.

We need to leave. It’s fine, he told himself. Not everyone smiles during a rescue. With those thoughts in mind, he followed after them.

Leading the way with determined steps, (Y/N) left the prisoner area and started towards an elevator.

At least they know where they’re going.

“If we hurry we can get out of here before they bring out surprises.” Kanan said before the lift door opened.

Without a word, (Y/N) walked in and turned to the control panel. Their fingers hit for level six.

“Actually,” Ezra announced politely, “we need to go to level three for a pick-up.”

“Level six is better,” they insisted in a curtly tone. Their body blocked the controls.

“Why would it be better?” Asked Kanan. Clearly he was just as confused as Ezra in that moment.

They just really want to leave, I guess.

“I have heard Imperials talk about it. Low security this time of day.”

How would they know what time it is?

“You heard them while in your cell?” Kanan crossed his arms.

“They were loud in that echoing hallway.”

“Okay…” Ezra sensed something was off as he finally said something. He glanced down to the light reflecting off of their black boots.

“But we’re still going to level three,” Kanan stated firmly. “We have a plan.”

“No. This is the way out,” they countered with tension in their jaw. “I’ve been here long enough to know that, Jedi.”

Kanan stepped forward and hit a button. The elevator stopped smoothly.

“How would you know the way out if you’ve been in a cell this whole time?” Ezra asked uncomfortably. Fear of deception crept up on him.

Something was wrong. The disconnect he felt between himself and (Y/N). Their tidiness and aloofness despite being a prisoner.

Ezra rolled up his left sleeve forcefully and displayed his arm to the stranger. “Does this mean anything to you?”

They only glanced at the soulmate mark before a frown appeared on their face.

“So,” said Kanan, “is the real trap on level six?”

. . .

Viewing spaceships battling from one of the top floors of the building gave almost too good of height advantage. No other structure near by blocked the sights.

Indoors the view wasn’t much better. Not wen it was Imperial.

“Are all troopers in position?” Commandant Dawes inquired over a comm. His other hand picked from a cheese board that had been brought in to his office earlier. “Excellent. I’m sure those pesky rebels are on their way. Keep me updated.”

Why are people like this? You wondered in confused disgust. And he’s enjoying it like a special event.

The Commandant leaned back in his chair behind his desk. It wouldn’t surprise you if he rested his feet up either. Overly confident imperials were good at making themselves comfortable it seemed. An annoying trait.

At least me refusing to sit in a chair annoys him. You shifted from one foot to the other. Who can sit while watching all of this? Who could smile when you don’t know the outcome of this mess? Your shoulders dropped. None of this would’ve happened if I stayed home or went somewhere else.

You peered up to the half-eaten cheeses and frowned.

“What did you mean by the rebels being on their way? Their ships are right there.” You gestured to the window.

He chuckled.

Please stop.

“My dear (Y/N).”

You grimaced and fought the urge to gag.

“You don’t know much about these rebels, do you? They’re traitors for one. You should know that much.” He paused for your response, but you only blinked. “Now, these radically dangerous rebels are capable of much destruction. These in particular,” he pointed towards the light freighter, “of the Ghost are highly sought after.”

“They’re a prize to you?” You fumed and took a step closer to the desk. “They’re people.”

“They are traitors of the Galactic Empire,” he chided. “You would do well not to join them.”

“It’s hard to do anything inside of a cell against my will.”

Sitting up straighter, Dawes gave you a hard look. One that reminded you that two stormtroopers stood guard just about twenty feet behind you at the door. A reminder that you were the only one wearing the binders as prisoner. Authority in an office for overseeing the city. A threat to everything you knew.

I’m not walking out of here if he wins.

If you had lost your appetite walking into the office, you sure didn’t have one with those thoughts.

Renewed with his smugness, Commandant Dawes relaxed with another bite of cheese. He activated his comms again.

“Did you capture the rebels in the data storage?”

Silence.

He sat up and repeated himself.

Data? Are they stealing intel?

Dawes fiddled with his comm and asked in a strained voice, “Have you detained the rebels on level six?”

Nothing on that channel came in response.

Panic lit in his beady eyes.

Behind him, you had a glimpse of the spaceships. More specifically, the sheer lack of TIE fighters.

Hope blossomed in your chest.

Whoa. Rebels mean business, you thought with a smirk. No wonder the Empire takes them seriously.

“Oh, wipe that smile off your face. If your soulmate is somewhere in here, Ezra Bridger will be t—”

Muffled blaster fire made both of you jump.

You turned and the sounds only continued as the stormtroopers by the door had their blasters aimed at the closed door.

“So…,” you started to ask, “was having stormtroopers stationed outside your office meant to prevent rebels from finding it?”

“No!” Dawes growled.

Breathe, you reminded yourself as your heartbeat sped up its rhythm. Cautious as a civilian, you moved to stand a couple of steps away from the side of Dawes’ desk. Please be the rebels. You can do it! Come on.

Blaster fire ceased beyond the door.

The amount of adrenaline pumping through you left you trembling slightly. Anticipation of anything in the next few moments.

Please.

Again, you jumped, startled as blaster fire started. You didn’t even see anyone in the doorway when the door opened.

As terrifying as loyal stormtroopers could be, were they more dangerous when angry or desperate?

Your chest rose and fell as you watched on.

Red blaster fire hitting the wall in the hallway. Dawes yelled for the pair of stormtroopers to switch to stun, but they weren’t listening. Driven by anger and fear.

“Use stun, you idiots!” Barked the Commandant.

When they obeyed, a silence followed. A precious pause from violence. An opportunity.

In a second, a young man appeared at the threshold and extended both hands in front of him. The pair of stormtroopers flew backward through the air and into the empty chairs. Nothing had touched them.

You hardly registered Commandant Dawes’ shouting, incoherent as it was. Your gaze and wonder had fixated on the dark-haired and blue-eyed young man walking into the room. If his burnt orange jacket didn’t grab your attention first, it was the knowledge that he must had moved those troopers.

“You must be Commandant Dawes,” said a taller man as he entered wearing an eye shield of a sort you weren’t familiar. He held a metal cylinder in his right hand.

Are they both…?

“Stay where you are.” Dawes raised a blaster pistol in your direction.

“Whoa.” You rose your linked hands up. Is this guy serious?

“Hey, they don’t need to be involved in this,” urged the youth in orange as he took a step closer to you. He too had his hands raised defensively.

“They all ready are, Bridger,” sneered Dawes.

“Ezra?” You gasped quietly, gaze back on the young man. Apologetic blue eyes regarded you sympathetically.

“Give yourselves up and I won’t dispose of (Y/N).”

WHAT? Your heartbeat thudded in your ears.

“That sounds like a good deal…for you,” said the man with the eye shield. Wearing earth tones in the middle of the room made him stand out almost as much as Ezra.

“A great deal for the Empire,” added Commandant Dawes peering over to the man, “and once you tell your crew to surrender the ISB will take you in. It’s all arranged.”

Slowly as Dawes had been speaking, Ezra took three steps towards you. His blue eyes were set on the only standing Imperial.

“How about I add in a bonus?”

“How generous,” sassed the rebel man.

“The kids can have one conversation. They’re soulmates and (Y/N) led you all here.” Dawes regarded you coldly. “Think of it as a reward.”

“I think we’ll take option three.” Ezra announced a second before he was blocking all your view.

WHAM

“Ahhgh.”

“Nice try,” said the rebel man, “but we have better offers.”

“What happened?” You whispered.

“Oh,” Ezra stepped aside and turned to you.” Kanan pushed him against the window.”

You glanced between the transparasteel and Kanan.

“Uh…there’s a desk there. How did he reach?”

“He used the Force,” he smiled. “Like how I knocked out those bucketheads.” Ezra went to the desk and searched it.

“Force.” You felt your breathing slow. Your vision narrowed to a random area on his orange jacket. “You’re Jedi.”

“Yeah.” Ezra walked back to you and removed the binders from your wrists.

“You’re Jedi.”

“I think your soulmate’s in shock,” Kanan warned.

Shock, you thought in a near daze. Jedi. My soulmate is a Jedi and a rebel.

“A Jedi.”

“Hey,” Ezra placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. “We’re the good guys.”

You nodded.

“Scum.” Commandant Irfon Dawes spat.

You frowned.

How dare that man insult the people who were saving you? He, the one who had threatened you and used you as leverage again. They hadn’t said one rude word to him.

“We’ve been called worse.” Said Kanan, grabbing his commlink.

“Traitors. All of you!”

“You’re the traitor,” you spat at the man. “You betray the well being of everyone in the galaxy by only searching for ways to benefit yourself.”

“You’re young. You’ll learn that you can only trust yourself.” Dawes held his head in pain.

Stepping up to the desk, you nabbed your few belongings and placed them in their respectable pockets.

“You’re old enough,” Ezra replied, “maybe you’ll learn that’s where the Empire fails. You only think of yourselves.”

Dawes glared at the pair of you.

Serves him right. Trying to blackmail soulmates.

“Let’s go.” Kanan ordered.

The three of you rushed out of the office. Stormtroopers littered the flooring.

“Spectre Two, we got the package. On our way out.”

“Spectre?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” Ezra answered as he evened his pace with yours. “Our ship’s the Ghost.”

“Oh,” you laughed. The sound almost surprised you.

Time locked up by the Empire was too much.

“I’m Ezra by the way.” He smiled.

“Hi. I’m (Y/N). It’s great to meet you.”

“I bet.” Ezra’s eyes widened. “Because you needed help. Not because I’m…me.”

“I’m glad either way.”

Free to leave from the greedy grasp of Commandant Dawes and be with your soulmate. How could it not make you utterly ecstatic?

“This way,” Kanan turned down an unfamiliar hall.

Those two knew where they were going. All you had to worry about was keeping up.

In a couple of minutes, all of you came upon an exterior door and you had your first glimpse of the outside world since being locked up. Outside air and even the rush as you continued forward refreshed you.

From above a small vessel came close to the platform the three of you found yourselves on. It didn’t land. The back opened with a short boarding ramp.

“Come on!” A gruff voice shouted from within.

Quick, long strides and the three of you were on board the shuttle craft. Quite spacious for a compact vessel.

“Let’s get back to the Ghost before reinforcements arrive.” Kanan stood behind the pilot’s seat as the ship took off toward the sky.

The pilot wore wonderfully colored armor. “I may have left them a few surprises.”

“Heh. They deserve it,” said a tall purple being by the hatch, “you should’ve seen the amount of soulmate profiles they stashed, Kanan. It’s despicable.”

Beside you, Ezra swung down two seats for the both of you.

That Dawes guy wanted to do this to others? Was I even the first? You thought as you sat down.

Buildings gave way to the sky then to the dark vastness of space. The curved viewport offered you a view of distant stars and four ships. Three of the four were fighters. Largest of the bunch and in direct sight of the vessel was a light freighter.

“Is that the Ghost?” You asked quietly into Ezra’s shoulder.

Your soulmate offered you a smile. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry,” said the purple guy.

Your eyes shifted and realized his words were directed to you.

“We’ll lose those Imperials before they can —”

beep beep

“TIE fighters.” Indicated the pilot.

“What?” Ezra almost jumped out of his seat.

“Phantom Two get moving.” A commanding voice came over the comm.

Your hands gripped either side of the seat as the shuttle craft really accelerated.

Complaining beeps and other binary language gave colorful input over the comm.

“Not now, Chopper,” Kanan chided.

Okay, just breathe. They have everything under control. You thought as the pilot started docking the vessel to the Ghost. You were perhaps thankful not to see where the TIEs actually were. Your heart could only handle so much between threats, sound of blaster fire, and running away.

Locking mechanisms could be heard as it vibrated from underneath the shuttle.

“We’re in,” announced the pilot sounding a touch relieved.

“We’re jumping. Hang on,” said the commanding voice.

Outside the viewport, the stars lengthened into bright lines until the ship jumped. Swirls of a hyperspace lane filled the outside view.

Muscles relaxing, you finally felt the light fatigue from the stress settling in.

You exhaled.

“Told yah we’d lose ‘em,” the tall being smirked.

“It could had been a Star Destroyer,” said Kanan. “We’re lucky that guy was wanting to hand us over as a surprise and didn’t brag.”

“He wanted to deliver you to some Lord Vader,” you said softly.

All eyes turned to you in alarm.

“Karabast. He really wanted a promotion.”

“But we all go out fine, Zeb. We did a good thing destroying people’s private data.”

Zeb is the tall purple guy. Got it. Kanan, mask. Zeb, purple.

“Come on, we can do debrief and introductions all together,” Kanan ushered everyone towards the hatch on the floor.

One by one, you all went down the ladder into the larger ship. Ezra followed after you. Your personal guide through the freighter.

Inside of a spacious area with some seating made a noticeable change in the crew. Tensions weren’t high and you caught half a handful of smirks passed around. Amused or playful in nature, you weren’t sure.

Okay. You breathed more calmly as you stood by Ezra by the couch. Now what?

Subtle sounds of motors perked your attention. An orange and off-white astromech droid rolled into the room heading straight towards you.

Whirls and beeps followed.

I think that was a question?

“Hi,” you greeted. Better to start off simply.

A more chipper set of binary came from the droid.

“This is Chopper.” Ezra chuckled. “Chop, this is (Y/N).”

Lower whoops from Chopper had Ezra rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah.”

You suppressed a smile when you heard Chopper’s laugh.

Poor Ezra, you thought.

It was then the final crew member entered the room from the cockpit. A green twi’lek in an orange jumpsuit.

“Did I miss anything?” She asked.

“Nah. Chopper got a head start embarrassing Ezra,” Kanan replied with a growing smile.

“It’s good to see everyone all right.” Her light eyes, colors of a warm sea, landed on you with a curious warmth. “I’m Hera.”

“Hi, I’m (Y/N).” You fiddled with your fingers, “I…um. Thank you.”

Hera smiled.

“Hey, we’re glad we found you before that Commandant Dawes had any more ideas.” Kanan said. “I’m Kanan by the way.”

Before you could say something clever, the tall being spoke up.

“And I’m Zeb.”

Zeb. Right. Got it. You thought a bit more confidently. So many names.

“Sabine.” The young woman in armor introduced herself briefly.

“Hi.” Your neck warmed with all the attention. “I’m glad to meet all of you. Thankful. Truly.”

“What Dawes was trying to do was low. Even for the Empire.” Hera said with a level of distaste that only came form someone who was forced to deal with aspects of the Empire not every citizen faced.

“Hera,” Sabine said warily, “their system had over a hundred profiles of soulmates saved form just this week alone. We weren’t able to find where they keep the scanners.”

“It might be better to find the manufacturer,” Kanan advised. “Stop them at the source.”

“And we will,” Hera promised, “but there are others that we must help first. The cause is important. We have to take priorities first.”

The Rebellion was more than a group of individuals annoying Imperials. They stood up for those who could not defend themselves against the atrocities of the Empire. Rebels sought freedom for everyone. They cared for individuals, even people they would never meet in person.

That knowledge hit you like a wall. Obvious and solid.

How many other people—cities—have they helped?

“We’re on our way to our base. We take a few precautionary detours first, but I need to ask: Is there anyone waiting for you at home or back on Marvis Three?”

Beside you, Ezra didn’t move. No one so much as murmured.

“I was on my own on Marvis Three. I didn’t plan on being there more than a few hours.” You answered timidly. “But there are people at home, but…won’t the Empire have eyes on them now?” You asked worriedly.

“With how much they put into trying to catch us, I honestly wouldn’t doubt it.” Hera explained.

“It would be safer for me to not go home to Triea Two?”

“I’m sorry. The Empire doesn’t make it easy for anybody.”

Your shoulders fell. That wasn’t exactly what you hoped to hear.

“Hey,” said Zeb, “think of it this way: The Commandant’s plan backfired.”

“Literally,” added Sabine with a satisfied smirk.

Your eyebrows rose, “Did you blow something up?”

“I did and it was beautiful.”

Oh!

“She really likes painting,” Ezra murmured to you.

“It’s art. The Empire has the perfect canvas.”

“Commandant Dawes’ office was boring enough,” you mentioned. “Before being rescued. The most colorful thing in there was the snacks he had ordered.”

“Whoa. Wait a minute.” Ezra turned to you more. “Was he eating while waiting for us?”

“His office had a good view of all the ships…” You said slowly and awkwardly.

The guy was a confident jerk. You didn’t want to relive and admit it.

“Wow and on that note,” Ezra cleared his throat. “I’m going to grab something to drink. Do you want anything?” Blue eyes studied you for a moment.

You nodded. Being kept in a cell and then Dawes’ office didn’t leave you time for a late afternoon snack. Plus all that running left you thirsty.

“Cool.”

“All right,” Hera said giving Ezra a look you didn’t understand. “We have time before we come out of hyperspace.”

“Got it.”

Following Ezra into the Ghost’s pantry was a short and quiet event. No one else entered.

Once the door shut, you let out a shaky breath.

You were somewhere new and a little nervous. One trip was a stumble into your soulmate’s life and the rebellion. That was a lot.

Ezra filled two cups as you sat on the nearest bench on your right.

“This happened really fast.” Ezra said as he handed you a drink of water and sat on the opposite bench.

“Yeah.”

Drinking water hit the spot. It also saved you by filling in the silence.

“So… What were you doing when the Empire grabbed you?”

“Nothing illegal.” You offered a small smile.

“Oh?”

“I was supposed to meet someone.”

“Oh.” His shoulders dropped.

“A contact for information,” you clarified quickly. “I needed to know if there were people on Marvis Three who really needed food.”

“You donate food?”

“I work near a factory that produces food pouches. They can’t sell any scratched or damaged goods. Even if the food inside is completely fine. One of the workers there gives me what they normally throw out.” You explained with a humble shrug. “The Empire shouldn’t miss their trash.”

Ezra’s grin made your heart leap.

It’s not much, but it helps others.

“I guess you’re a rebel after all,” he leaned his arms on the table between you both. “And they grabbed you for, what, just showing up?”

“Yes. I took a public transport.”

His face scrunched up in bewilderment.

“New security measures. He wanted to catch rebels before anything happened. And scan people’s soulmate’s names. It translates pretty fast and…they definitely recognized your name. Dawes broke into a creepy grin and everything.”

“The Commandant was there?”

“He’s very invested,” you grimaced. “And annoying.”

“And crazy. He went to blast you.”

“And you popped up in front of me. You could’ve gotten hurt.” You chided.

“I would’ve been fine. Trust me.” He tilted his head with striking blue eyes emanating some secret knowledge.

He moved those stormtroopers. He was blocking me from Dawes faster than I blinked.

“With the Force?” You asked timidly.

Ezra nodded with a friendly smile.

“So,” you rolled back your sleeve and freely showed your soulmate’s name, “the Empire knows you’re a Jedi?”

“Pretty much.”

“If I would have looked up your name on the HoloNet…?” You pointed to your arm.

He breathed out a laugh. “Uh, you would’ve probably read some angry Imperial propaganda or seen my wanted poster.”

“Didn’t know my soulmate was so popular,” you teased.

Ducking his head, Ezra almost knocked over his cup when trying to grab it.

You said nothing in commentary. In turn, it gave you an opportunity to take in more of his appearance and the reality of the situation.

Dark hair slicked back, two scars were visible along his left cheekbone. A sign of past adventures or danger in Ezra’s life.

Did that mean Ezra had seen worse things in the Empire? Scary things? People, creatures, or even technology?

Coming up from his minor embarrassment, Ezra rested his chin on his hand.

You tilted your head, a curious and silent invitation for more conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is still a little crazy for me to actually be talking with you.”

“Same here.”

“I’ve lived on Lothal most of my life until I ran into those guys.” Ezra gestured towards the door. “I was on my own—living for just me.” His shoulders seemed to lower as he spoke through memories. “I tried not to think about how low the possibilities were of meeting you. If you were on Lothal I would’ve known. So I didn’t.”

“Save yourself from disappointment.”

He nodded.

“A little better now though?” You offered with a half shrug.

“Much better. Oh. And,” he gestured with both hands, “Dawes had put some random Imperial in your cell to pretend to be you.”

You blinked. “He what now?”

“Someone dressed in an Imperial prison jumpsuit and polished boots tried leading me and Kanan into a trap.”

“How’d you figure it wasn’t me? Did they refuse to show their mark?”

“A few things. Let’s just say Imperials don’t make great actors. And they had no interest in seeing your name.”

Tapping your fingers against the cup, you internally debated. Only shortly.

“May I… Is it okay if I see it?”

Blue eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Then like routine, Ezra removed the armguard that held his commlink and pushed up his orange sleeve.

“How’s that?” He angled his forearm closer to you for easier viewing.

A grin spread across your face saying more than you knew how. Looking at Ezra’s arm, it was difficult to see the markings, the soulmate language, as anything other than your name.

It’s so weird finally seeing it, you thought. He’s real and everything.

You chuckled lightly as you peered into his blue eyes, “This is going to take me a while to get used to.” “You could stay with us,” Ezra offered softly. “You could join the rebellion if that’s something you want to do?”

You exhaled. That would be a huge step. Can’t go home.

“Do I get to help more people?”

“Yeah. That’s what we do. All of us. Together.”

“And we could hang out too? If we can? Between rebel duties.”

His eyes lit up. “We can. You could watch me train, if you want to.” Ezra grinned, leaning closer. “I could show you some cool stuff I’ve learned.”

“That’d be cool. And… I could show you what I’ve learned.”

“Like what?”

You smiled. “I technically have a job back home, Ezra, and I may have learned a few things not directly related to selling chocolate.”

“Are you sure we can’t visit your home planet?” Ezra laughed.

Sudden, new, and surprising could be the main general takeaways from finally meeting your soulmate. Knowing that given the times you both lived in, Ezra and yourself were in for quite an introduction to living with your soulmate.

But it should be fun too, right?

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

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[melancholyshadow]

Hello! I couldn’t help but see your post about writing for COD men! If so, could you please do one that’s Price x reader where she takes a bullet for him? Angst and Fluff. Typical scenario I know, but there’s never enough Price. If that doesn’t work that’s okay too! Thank you!!

Desk Duty

pairing: john price x female!reader

word count: around 2.1k

content warnings: canon-level violence, injured!reader, mentions of someone getting shot, mentions of gun-shot wound, medical talk, kissing an authority figure.

an: hello! first off, thank you anon for this lovely request, hopefully you enjoy it, i am a bit rusty bc i have not written in forever. second off, to address the elephant in the room, i know this isn't marvel related, but i'm really into call of duty right now, and wanted to write for them instead. third of all, if you liked this piece, and want to request your own, my request are open! i am really only writing for cod men right now and maybe some select marvel people. thanks guys!!!!

You never understood the saying “It happened in slow motion.” 

This was real life, nothing happened in slow motion, that was physically impossible. 

Or so you thought. 

All five of you were pinned down, trapped in a warehouse, taking massive amounts of fire. The enemy was closing in fast, and you were vastly outnumbered. It was the five of you, and a couple Marines, that’s it. This was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill mission, no one expected it to go sideways. Especially not this bad. 

“Low on ammo, Captain!” Gaz yelled, tossing an empty magazine behind him. “Conserve. Wait till they get closer!” Price barked back. “Where is air support, sir?” You asked, as the both of you crouched down to reload. “Five minutes out, we just need to make it till then.” He explained, popping back up and firing towards the building across the way. Five minutes was a long time in combat, almost too long. 

When you had this much adrenaline pumping through your body, it was natural to get tunnel vision. Only able to focus on the thing standing right in front of you, and at the moment that was about twenty enemy soldiers. Except, they weren’t all in front of you. They were obviously more well-versed in the area than you guys were, so they knew about a door to the warehouse you didn’t.

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw the sudden flood of light come from the door being ripped open. That’s when everything slowed way down. Three of them rushed inside, you were able to drop the first two, but the third one was too quick. And when his eyes landed on Price who was still facing towards the opposing building, you panicked. So, you did the first thing you could think of. 

Grabbing your Captain’s ‘oh shit’ strap on the back of his plate carrier, you pulled him to the ground and out of the line of fire. As you kneeled beside Price, the enemy’s gun repositioned on you and before you had time to raise your own weapon again, he fired. The bullet connected, causing you to fall back against the cold concrete. Just as quickly as you fell, you watched the enemy’s body fall to the same concrete. Price let two bullets rip, one into his leg and the other into his skull. You stared up at the ceiling, clutching your wound, trying to apply pressure. 

“Monarch is down!”

You woke up in the hospital two days later. 

Apparently you passed out from blood loss. 

It had been a tricky wound to treat in the field, so you had to wait for the air support to show up. 

It was difficult for you to remember everything leading up to you being injured. You don’t remember the actual impact or being carried to the helo. It was all hazy. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost had gone over the incident with you many times, but it just never really came back to you. Not that you were complaining. No one wants to remember getting shot.

After a week and a half in the hospital, a month of physical therapy, and another month of training and sparring with your teammates to get you back in shape, you were finally cleared for the field. It was a miracle that you were able to bounce back this fast, it usually took many months to recover fully from an injury like that, but you liked to think it was solely because of how stubborn you were. 

Everyone was super happy to have you back. Well, almost. There was only one more step you had to do: submit your medical release form to Price and have him approve it. You had only seen the Captain a few times, in passing, since the incident. It felt like he was avoiding you entirely, but you chalked it up to all the paperwork he was probably buried under right now, especially when a mission went that far south. 

You walked down the familiar hallway, Price's office was at the very end. Nervousness flooded your body with every step you took. What could you possibly be nervous about? Was it because you were afraid to face him for the first time in over two months? Of course not, he was the same Price he was during that mission. Were you nervous he wasn’t going to approve you for medical release? No, he had to approve it, hell, you saved his damn life. 

As you approached the door, you took a deep breath. You noticed a shake in your hand as you brought it up to knock on the door. Three loud racks echoed down the hallway. “Come in.” He called from the otherside of the door. You gripped the doorknob, turning it and pushed the door open with your shoulder. Price, as you suspected, was looking over a mountain of paperwork. His signature cap was discarded, and he was dressed in civilian clothes. He was in on his day off. 

“Hello.” You greeted him, closing the door behind you. “Sergeant.” A man of few words, as always, but his tone seemed different. “I hate to do this, but I have some more paperwork for you.” You said with an awkward chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s my medical release form.” You added.

“Set it there.” He pointed to the only clear space on his desk. His words sounded cold. After placing down the documents, you stood there for a few more seconds, seeing if he would say anything else. You know, ask how you were doing, or something, literally anything. But to no avail. 

So, you turned on your heels to walk out without another word. As you touched the doorknob, Price cleared his throat to speak, spiking some hope into your heart. “I’m putting you on desk duty.” Almost instantly, your stomach dropped past your toes. He said it so monotoned, no ounce of emotion in his voice.

For a few moments you were stunned, left speechless. But once that initial shock wore off, anger began to bubble up in your chest. You could feel the warmth overtaking every inch of your body and your chest began rising and falling irregularly.

“W-What? But I’ve been cleared for the field.” You tried to keep your tone even, unwavering as you slowly turned around to face him. He had finally looked up, head propped up on his palm. Like his tone, there was no legible emotion on his face. No anger, sadness, or guilt. “Desk duty until further notice.” This time it sounded dismissive, like the conversation was over. What is said is done. Clicking his pen twice, his eyes landed back on the report in front of him. 

“This is bullshit!” The words climbed up your throat before you could stop them. You could feel your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides. Your words caught the Captain off guard, but he only showed it for a moment. Not once had you ever questioned Price, or his intentions. But this time was different, if he thought you were gonna take this lying down,  he was dead wrong. 

“I’d watch your tone, Sergeant.” He spoke at you more sternly than before, clearly agitated by your outburst. And what he said next only added insult to injury, literally, “After that stunt you pulled, you’re lucky I don’t reassign you.” He used his pen to point at you, reaffirming his statement. That’s when all the logic and camaraderie flew out the window.

“You mean the one where I saved your life?” You spoke with malice, like venom was dripping off your tongue. “God forbid, I interfere with you taking a bullet to the skull.” You scoffed. “Is that the stunt you’re referring to?” You mocked him, echoing the term ‘stunt,.' You were trying to get under his skin, whether you knew that at the moment or not.

The Captain was boiling, you could practically see the steam coming from his ears. As you open your mouth to further instigate the situation, he slams his fists down on his desk. He stands up quickly, his chair tumbled to the ground behind him. “Exactly that stunt!” He barks. You’re the one caught off guard this time. It was rare for the Captain to raise his voice outside the field. Especially to you. 

“You could have got yourself killed, soldier!” It only takes him a few steps to be in your face. You hold your ground even though you're terrified, you had never seen Price like this. “It’s in the job description, sir.” You rebutted between your teeth, adding the ‘sir’ to irk him more. It worked. “You were careless and clearly have no regard for your own life. You are a risk.” He spat. 

“I’d die for you, Captain. No if, ands, or buts, about it.” You said with a straight face. “ So, if that categorizes me as a ‘risk,’ so be it.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but quickly closed it, and you noticed. “Say it, Captain. You never have been one to hold his words back.” You pushed him, feeding on his anger. 

But all that anger seemed to be disintegrating. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone. Like your words flipped a switch inside him. He had this look on his face, like he was truly debating on his next words. “Say. It.” You demanded, necking craning upwards to look him in the eyes. His eyes fell closed, and a defeated huff passed his lips. 

“Having your blood on my hands is something I can’t handle…” His voice was hushed, and now his eyes refused to meet yours. That was the last thing you expected him to say. He has always kind of coddled you, he was very protective. You always thought maybe it was because you were the newest member of the Task Force, but now you’re thinking it’s for another reason. 

“W-What do you mean?” You asked, your mind went blank. All that anger was now mixed with a good dose of confusion. He didn’t speak, just ran his fingers through his hair, still avoiding eye contact. “Captain, look at me.” You uttered softly, and he didn’t listen. You’re not sure what overtook you in the moment, but your shaky hand reached towards his face.

“Please.” You begged, gripping his chin and forcing him to face you. When he didn’t pull away, you brought his face closer, your noses only inches apart. His eyes did finally flutter open, and you were greeted with a stoic, immersive shade of blue, you couldn’t look away. 

“Captain, I–” He didn’t let you finish your thought, cutting you off by leaning in closer, pressing his lips against yours. They were soft, softer than you ever imagined. Especially compared to the coarse hair of his mustache and beard against your face. You even picked up on the taste of smoke, he had smoked one of his cigars recently. 

All you could focus on at that moment was him. The way he placed your hands against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat through the soft fabric of his t-shirt. It was racing, ramming against the inside of his chest.

How his rough, calloused hands cupped the sides of your face, further melding your lips together. The way he handled you said a lot. He kissed you like he was in distress, barely giving you time to breathe between the last and next kiss, not that you were doing much breathing anyways. He made your body feel like jelly, your knees barely able to carry your body weight, so you gripped his t-shirt, tight, trying to steady yourself. 

When he finally pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours. There was no talking, just heavy pants coming from the both of you. Did that really just happen? Was this a joke? You wanted to pinch yourself, wake yourself up from this dream. That’s when he spoke, breaking the silence, “‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He apologized, trying to create more distance between the two of you. 

Luckily, you still had a hold of his shirt, stopping him. “Respectfully, Captain, shut up.” You chuckled, which earned a small smile from him as well. “Is this why you avoided me for two and a half months?” You asked, snaking your arms around his neck. “If you think I’ve only had these feelings for you for two and a half months, you're more delusional than I thought, Sergeant.” He chuckled this time, placing his hands on your hips.

“So, the real question is, am I still on desk duty?”

[1800-fight-me]

Broken Vows Part Two

Part One Part Three Epilogue

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: E - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Explicit sex, infidelity, angst (also some fluff!), canon level sexism, the reader is a lady of a great house but the house is unspecified and the reader has no description. (As a forewarning, though this story has dark themes and tons of angst it absolutely will have a happy ending!)

Word count: A little over 6k

Synopsis: How long will you be able to hide your son’s true parentage and control your desires for Aemond?

Author’s note: Part two is finally here!! There will be a part three!! Thank you so so much to my lovely beta readers @just-here-for-the-moment and @lady-phasma y’all are the best!! P.S. Here’s a link to my masterlist if you’d like to check out my other writing! Come interact with me! Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Aemond Masterlist           Part Three Sneak Peek

“You asked for me, mother?” Aemond said as he strode into Alicent’s quarters. 

“Yes, sit with me,” she said as she reached her hand out to him and smiled gently. 

He placed his hand in hers and squeezed it softly as he sat on the couch next to her. 

“I have news and wanted to share it with you before you heard it from any others,” she said. 

He nodded and waited for her to continue. 

“Lady Stark has given birth to a child. A son,” she said carefully as she attempted to gauge her son’s reaction. 

Aemond pursed his lips and swallowed as he processed the information. 

He nodded once again. 

“We should offer the Starks our congratulations on their happy news,” he said, his voice rough with concealed emotion. 

“I have already sent a letter. It was only about eight or nine months ago she was here in person,” she said. 

“Hm.” 

“Aemond,” she sighed. 

He stared at her as his mind churned like the sea with this new information. 

“I know you have always loved her,” Alicent said gently. 

“Hm,” Aemond clenched his jaw and turned his face to avoid her gaze. 

“Tell me my fears are not true,” she begged. 

“What fears do you speak of, mother?” he asked, his voice hard, though he of course knew what she meant. 

“I do not wish to say it for fear it is true,” she said as she looked at her brokenhearted son. 

“Then there is nothing to say. I shall take my leave, I have responsibilities that need to be attended to,” he said as he stood swiftly. 

“Aemond,” she protested as she grabbed his arm. 

He swallowed and pursed his lips before he turned back to face her. 

At the barely concealed anguish on his face she sighed and let him go. 

Aemond marched straight to the training courtyard for his thoughts were swirling and spiraling and he was unable to make sense of his emotions. 

Sir Criston was there and after a few curt words they began to spar. 

Aemond’s chest heaved as he blocked and parried Sir Criston’s blows. He couldn’t decide if he was trying to avoid his feelings or straighten his thoughts enough to sort through them. 

Hours passed and his sparring partner changed multiple times but still Aemond did not stop. 

Sweat dripped down his face as he fought and fought and fought. 

He raged against the need inside him to call upon Vaghar and fly north immediately. 

The last man in the courtyard bowed out and called the fighting to an end. 

Aemond stood alone with only the moon as a light. 

He threw down his weapons and stomped his way to the dragon pit. 

He resisted the urge to punch the stone wall for it would surely only break his hand and not offer the relief he was looking for if hours of training were any indication. 

Soon he and Vaghar soared through the skies. 

An experience that usually brought him peace and comfort, but now did little in the face of the torment his soul currently faced. 

Good gods, what had he fucking done. 

There was, of course, a chance the child was not his. 

What was he doing, was he going to fly to Winterfell and start a war by taking away Lord Stark’s wife? 

You should be his. He despised the circumstances life had put you and him in. 

He should be there to hold you and his child and kiss you both. 

If the child was not his, he felt nearly just as broken hearted at the thought. You should be his wife and bear his children and be filled with his love and care. 

Vaghar reached the border to the North and cold pelting rain began to pour. 

With gasping breaths Aemond commanded her to land. 

He climbed off and slid to his knees on the muddy ground. 

The rain streaked down his face along with tears. 

He could not go to Winterfell and take you away. He could not start a war over a child he was not sure was his and any attempts to see you and the babe would endanger you more than he already had with his reckless love led actions. 

As he screamed in anguish, Vaghar roared in empathy for her broken rider.

_______________________

One month later 

“My lady, here are some letters for you,” your lady’s maid Brienne said after you laid your sleeping son down in his crib. 

“Oh, thank you, you can put them on the desk there. I’ll look through them later,” you said. 

“I think you want to look at this now and not leave it lying around,” she said, her voice strongly toned. 

You looked up at her in surprise as she placed the letters on your desk but handed one of them to you. 

You gasped softly as you recognized the handwriting and seal upon it. 

“I see,” you murmured. 

She stared at you, and with a loving but reprimanding tone she told you she was taking her leave to give you privacy. 

The letter was addressed to you, though it was written with your maiden name rather than addressed to Lady Stark. 

You took a deep breath. 

You opened it with shaking hands and saw the one worded message. 

“Congratulations,” it stated in a careful cursive scrawl you were all too familiar with from years of passing childhood notes. 

It was signed, “Aemond Targaryen”. 

Your heart pounded as your fingers grazed the letters your lover had written. He had made a carefully calculated decision when he wrote and sent you this letter. 

He had not put anything incriminating in it, though it was certainly suspicious on its own for you to receive a personal letter from the prince. 

But you knew what this letter meant. It meant that he knew. He knew you had a child and at the very least he suspected it was his. He was also, in the most formal way he could, offering you his love and affection for your efforts to bear a child. You wished you could tell him that your son was his. 

You could not send him any sort of confirmation or acknowledgement back, it was too dangerous. 

You wiped the tears from your eyes as your heart burned from his loving gesture. 

You hid the letter in a drawer and pulled it out and traced the words again and again when you missed him. 

_______________________

Two years later 

“No,” you said stubbornly. 

“Do my ears deceive me? Surely you did not refuse your Lord Husband,” Cregon seethed at you through clenched teeth. 

“I said, no,” you said as you glared at him. 

“It is a royal decree! We must go! You cannot refuse the King! We have already turned down two royal invitations from both the Queen Regent and the Queen Mother since our son was born, all due to your excuses” he yelled as he threw his hands up in the air in frustration. 

“Fine, then you go without me,” you said and he sighed deeply. 

“Woman, your stubbornness knows no bounds. If you wish to remain in Winterfell then I suppose Eddard and I can-” 

“No. You will not take my son away from me. He is only two years old. He needs his mother. You can go yourself,” you said angrily. 

“The King requested our entire family! Not just me! What is this sudden change in attitude you appear to have? I thought you had fond memories of your childhood in the Red Keep, do you not wish to visit again? Your father will be there. He is ill and it is unlikely you will have many more chances to see him before his life ends.” 

“My father is the last person I want to see. You would know that if you knew anything at all about me,” you practically spat at him. 

He rolled his eyes. 

“I am the Lord of this house and you will obey my words. We will all depart for King’s Landing in a week’s time. That is final,” he said as he left your chambers and slammed the door behind him. 

You collapsed into the closest chair and buried your face in your hands as you attempted to take deep calming breaths. 

You feared that the dangerous game you’d been playing of hiding your child’s parentage could soon be over once he was seen in the same room as his true father. 

Though the child was a near copy of you, his silver hair and the shape of his lips clearly marked him as Aemond’s child. 

As you lived in the cold north you frequently kept a hat on his head so rumors would not spread but that would prove impossible in the warm climate of King’s Landing. 

Rumors that you were an overprotective mother and that he was a sickly child due to you always keeping him bundled up and close to you ran rampant, but according to Brienne, there were no speculations on his parentage. Truly, she was one of the few people who had ever seen the color of his hair including your husband and the maesters. 

You decided to cut his hair shorter prior to the trip, it would not hide the color but perhaps it would draw the eye less. 

Gods help you. 

Weeks later, your nerves frayed as the carriage you and your son were in grew closer and closer to the Red Keep. 

“Listen to me, my little dragon heart,” you whispered at your son as he sat in your lap, grateful that your husband had decided to ride in the front of the group rather than in your carriage for the last leg of the trip. 

He looked up at you, his face solemn and so like the expressions you used to frequently see on Aemond. 

“You are to stay close to me, okay? This is a new place and I want you by my side always,” you urged and he nodded. 

He wrapped his arms around you and snuggled close into your chest. 

“Hold hands?” he asked 

You grinned at his adorable question and nodded. 

“Yes, when we leave the carriage we shall hold hands,” you said and placed a kiss to the top of his head. 

You pulled a light hat onto his head and hoped he would keep it on until you got to your rooms. 

Finally the carriage stopped and with your son on your hip you took your husband’s hand and stepped out into the courtyard of the Red Keep. 

You looked up to see the Queen Mother and the Queen Consort there to greet you. 

You took a deep breath and gulped. 

As you walked forward, your son wiggled out of your arms. You placed him on the ground and held his hand to allow him to toddle next to you as you strode towards the queens. 

Heleana clearly still cared little for decorum as she immediately embraced you. 

“Hello dear friend,” you said to her as you hugged her back. 

“It has once again been far too long,” she said and you agreed with her. 

“Hello Lord and Lady Stark, you are most welcome here,” Alicent said as you and Helaena ended your embrace. 

You smiled and curtseyed and she smiled back. 

“Thank you, my queens, we are happy for our long travels to be over,” Cregon said politely. 

“The King regrets that he could not be here to receive you, he had urgent matters to attend to, but will surely see you at the feast this evening,” Alicent said and your husband nodded. 

Alicent then embraced you while Helaena knelt down and greeted your son. 

“It is good to see you,” she whispered to you. 

“You as well,” you said. 

She pulled back and with a look at your son asked you, “May I?” 

You nodded nervously as she picked up your son and looked at him. 

“Hello, handsome,” she said to him with a gentle smile. 

“Hi!” he said with a grin. 

“It is far too warm for this hat,” she said in concern with a glance at you and then pulled it off his head. 

You held in your protests and when she saw his hair, she did not look at you in shock. 

She ran a hand over his full head of snow white hair as she smiled and made cooing noises at him. 

“He is a beautiful boy,” she said as she handed him to you, and her gaze lingered on you, far too knowing. 

“Thank you, your grace,” you said, your heart still in your throat. 

You were led into your rooms, again the same room you grew up in, with your husband’s room next door. 

You were quickly settled, though your nerves seemed to be unable to settle as easily. 

Thankfully your father sent you a messenger to tell you he was feeling too ill to attend tonight’s feast. At least you could delay that confrontation for another day. Though your father was a stubborn and unkind man, he was not an idiot and would immediately know your child was sired by Aemond rather than your husband once he saw him. 

That night at the feast you were quiet and reserved as you attempted to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. A feat that was markedly more difficult due to Aemond’s stares. 

It was clear he wanted to speak with you, though he would not do so in front of others. 

Your son was not allowed at the feast, thankfully this was an event without children, but rather than allowing the castle servants to care for him, he was safely tucked away in your chambers with Brienne. The fewer people in the Red Keep that saw him, the better. 

Your desire for Aemond was kept better in control due to your need for survival and the importance of the safety of your child. 

Both your lives could be forfeit should your husband discover your betrayal and treachery. 

So, you avoided Aemond’s gaze and other than a cursory nod during the initial greetings, you refused to acknowledge him. 

His fire still burned within you, however. If only you could fall into his arms, introduce him to his child that you love so dearly, be his and his alone. 

But you could not dwell on what could have, or perhaps even should have, been. 

Toasts made their rounds and Cregon and several other noblemen paid their tributes to the King. 

Your hopes that this dull affair would end quickly were dashed when Aemond stood and raised his cup as he stared at your husband. 

Then he looked at you. You stopped breathing. 

He said your name, not your title, your first name, and it sounded all too familiar as it fell from his lips. 

“To you and Lord Stark,” he purred, you knew he would never refer to you as Lady Stark for in his mind you were and always would be his. 

“And the son you have brought into this world, the little Lord Stark, I hear he is exceptionally handsome. Congratulations,” he said, voice like silk but dripping with cockiness. 

Everyone toasted with him and you took a large gulp of your wine. 

You schooled your expression and did everything in your power not to glare at the prince. 

You nodded back at him. 

“Thank you, my prince! What kind words!” Cregon said as he patted your shoulder and grinned, oblivious and stupid as ever. 

Of course he did not pick up on Aemond’s veiled intentions, either to jab at your husband or to get a rise out of you to test his already rapidly forming assumptions. 

You forced a smile at him and Aemond, who smirked before he sat back down in his seat. 

After the feast, you returned to your quarters to find little Ned already fast asleep in his adjoining room. You dismissed Brienne gratefully for the night after she helped you undress and put on your nightgown. 

You were thankful that your husband had a separate room next door and that he did not attempt to bother you that night. 

You fell asleep, thoughts full of Aemond and the heated looks he sent you. 

You felt the bed behind you shift as someone laid down behind you. 

A large hand was placed on your waist and you groaned in annoyance. 

“Not tonight, Cregon,” you practically hissed in anger that you were now awake. 

“I find myself offended that you would mistake me for that piece of shit,” you heard Aemond’s voice say behind you and you gasped. 

You rolled over quickly and saw his face in the flickering firelight. 

“What are you doing here?” you whisper- yelled. 

You didn’t need to ask him how he snuck into your rooms for he had done so nearly nightly through the hidden tunnels in your shared youth. 

“I thought you would be happy to see me,” he said as he smirked at you and gripped your waist a little tighter. 

“After the shit you pulled at dinner?” you snapped at him and he chuckled darkly. 

“Tell me the truth of it. My mother is correct, yes? The child is mine. I would like to see him.” 

He pulled your body close to him so your chest was flush against his. 

“Aemond,” you whimpered as you shook your head. 

“You look beautiful tonight, dear heart,” he murmured as he ran his nose against your cheek. 

“You endanger me and my son,” you whispered as your body began to shake with need for him. 

The heat of his body against yours, his familiar scent, the comfort of his large calloused hand on your waist, all combined made your head swirl as if you were drunk on him. 

“Our son,” he murmured as he pressed his lips to yours. 

You could not hold yourself back from kissing him with passion and desperation. 

“Hm,” he hummed, clearly pleased, as he pulled himself back from you. 

“Tell me, my love. I want to hear it from your perfect lips,” he whispered as gently ran his fingers up your arm and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. 

“Yes, Aemond,” you gasped out as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. He gently pushed you back so you laid on your back and covered your body with his. 

“He is your son, the child was born of our love,” you whispered the forbidden truth and he groaned in response as his lips trailed down your neck. 

He pulled back and pressed a kiss to your wanting lips. 

“I will protect you both,” he vowed and you nodded with tears in your eyes. 

His hands roamed your body possessively as his lips trailed down, lower. 

“I am still cross with you,” you said with a gasp, though it was difficult to sound serious as your body was filled with the pleasure only he can provide you. 

“Be cross with me. Tell me of it. Yell at me. Break my heart. Just be with me, allow me to be in your presence, allow me to love you. I thought I could survive this life without you, but I find it unbearable. Be mine, and mine alone,” he said passionately between kisses to your chest and stomach as he rucked up your nightgown, his voice low and fervent.

Your eyes filled with tears.

“Yes,” you gasped out.  

His mouth reached near your core and you tangled your fingers in his hair and forced him to look at you, to meet your gaze. 

“My heart has always, always, belonged to you and you alone. But tell me, my love. How do we survive this? How do we-” 

“Leave it to me,” he said darkly and he spread your legs before he licked you exactly where you so desperately wanted him. 

“Aemond,” you whimpered and you slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your moans of pleasure as he gave you what you’d been dreaming of for years. 

“Good gods, I have craved your taste,” he groaned deeply into your dripping heat. 

You whimpered. 

His tongue circled your clit and your breath sped up as you neared your peak far quicker than you ever had before. Your body was desperate for him and just his presence was enough to make you come. 

“I’m going to-” 

He pulled back and you gasped in shock and anger that he would stop when you were so close. 

You sat up to better meet his gaze and he smirked. 

“Tell me you are mine,” he commanded. 

You took a shuddering breath. 

“I’m yours, yours, only yours, my love,” you whimpered. 

He growled low in his throat in satisfaction before he buried himself between your legs again. 

You fell back onto your back again and bit down on your hand to muffle your sounds as you came harder than you had in years. 

You panted as you attempted to catch your breath, but he didn’t give you any time as he crawled his way up your body and kissed you deeply. 

You wrapped your legs around his trim waist and he buried his hardened length deep inside you.

He moaned into your mouth as his tongue danced with yours. 

“You feel so good, so fucking perfect,” you groaned. 

“As do you, my love,” he murmured with a kiss to your jaw. 

He began slow thrusts that made you feel so perfectly full you couldn’t stop yourself from whining his name. 

Your hands roamed his body, you relished  in the feeling of his skin against yours and his tight muscles as he moved within you. 

“You are mine,” you whispered to him and he sped his thrusts as he groaned deeply.  

He hit the spot inside you that made your brain go fuzzy and you moaned loudly. 

He covered your mouth with his large hand and began to pound into you. 

You continued to whine, but your sounds were now muffled. 

No other words were needed as you stared deeply into his eye and his sapphire eye glimmered in the low firelight. 

You watched pleasure overtake his expression as he grew closer to his release. 

He pulled out of you and stroked himself, only a couple times, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time, before he came and his seed spread across your stomach and chest. 

You reached for his arm and grabbed it before you yanked him down on top of you again and kissed him soundly. 

“I love you,” you whispered to him. 

“You are the love of my life,” he murmured and kissed you again. 

———

“I wish to see him,” Aemond whispered in your ear as his fingers traced gentle patterns across your bare stomach. 

You ran your fingers through his hair as it draped across his shoulder and spilled onto your chest and said, “I know, but it is late. And he is asleep.” 

“I will be quiet,” he said and you nodded, unable to keep him from his child, your own selfish heart also desired to see him meet his son for the first time. 

“Get dressed, then,” you said as you reached for your nightgown and placed it back on your body. 

He was quickly dressed and you took his hand and led him to the door that joined your room with little Ned’s. 

“Do not wake him, he is starting to speak and if he babbles something to Cregon about a white haired man in his room at night there will be hell to pay,” you whispered and Aemond smirked and nodded. 

You cracked open the door and as you saw him still sleeping you led your love into the room. 

You smiled as you looked upon your child sleeping so peacefully. 

You then looked up at Aemond and saw that he had unshed tears in his eye. 

“He is perfect. He looks so much like you, my love,” Aemond whispered as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

You bit your lip as joyous tears made their way down your cheeks. 

“He looks like you as well, sometimes he looks at me and I swear he wears the exact same expressions as you,” you whispered with a smile in your voice. 

Aemond chuckled softly in joyous wonder. 

You tugged on his hand and led him back into your room and shut the door quietly behind you. 

Aemond was staring at you in awe. 

“When no one is around I call him my little dragon heart,” you said to him with a small, almost bashful, smile. 

He stepped closer to you and kissed you with a ferocity that took your breath away. 

“I love you,” he groaned into your mouth as he led you back to your bed. 

His hands shed you of your clothing at breakneck speeds and you could hardly breathe as he gripped your waist and pushed you back onto the bed. 

“Aemond,” you gasped. 

“I love you,” he said again, his tone strong as he laid himself atop you and kissed you desperately. 

His tongue tangled with yours and you moaned as his fire once again filled you. 

“Aemond, I love you as well, but slow down-”, you whispered as he pulled back with a wild look in his eye. 

“I wish, no I need to fill you again. I need to fill you with my child again,” he panted and you could not deny the rush of arousal that flooded you at his words. 

“My love, we cannot. We must continue to take precautions. One white haired Stark child is dangerous enough, but two?” 

He took a deep breath and nodded. You placed your hand on his cheek and he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm. 

“Soon, I swear to you, I will remedy this and you and our child will be mine and mine alone. And I will fill you with my children until I can see you round with my child myself,” he promised and you whimpered in desire. 

“That is my true desire,” you said and he kissed you, softly this time. 

“You are perfect and so is our beautiful son you have brought into this world.” he said and you smiled. 

“My prince, how you flatter me,” you teased. 

“Hm,” was his only response before he kissed you again until you couldn’t think of any more teasing retorts. 

_____________

“Do you wish things could be different?” Helaena asked you the next morning as you sat in the private sanctuary of the Godswood with her, her children, and your child. 

You basked in the warm sunlight, something you got so little of in the north. 

“What does wishing do but cause pain?” you asked her and she nodded. 

Her children giggled as they ran around little Ned and he toddled after them. 

“Are there things you wish were different?” you asked her curiously. 

“I wish you were here more often, none of the other ladies of court are as kind as you,” she confessed and you reached over and squeezed her hand. 

“Truthfully, I wish for that as well.” 

“The children seem to be getting along well,” she observed and you laughed. 

“Yes, Ned doesn’t often get to play with other children so he’s thrilled.” 

“He’s so cute!” Jaehaera squealed as Ned giggled and chased after her. 

“Mother, is he our cousin?” Jaehaerys asked Helaena. 

You pursed your lips, you were worried something like this might happen. 

“No, he is a Stark,” his mother replied and he just stared at her confused. 

“But he looks like us? I thought only Targaryens had white hair,” he said with a bluntness that only children can achieve. 

You coughed awkwardly. 

“Uncle Aemond!” Jaehaera yelled in excitement as Aemond walked towards the group of you. 

The twins squealed and ran to him and little Ned trailed after them once again, but fell down and sat there while he watched them. 

“Hello, little ones, are you enjoying your day?” he asked them as both twins clung to each of his legs. 

They babbled over one another, each talking rapidly, and he grinned. 

“Uncle, uncle, look! Look at our new friend, little Ned! Isn’t he the cutest?” 

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys ran back to Ned and grabbed each of his hands and led him to Aemond. 

Aemond knelt down on the ground and smiled softly. 

“Hello,” he said gently.

Ned looked back at you and you nodded at him encouragingly. 

“Say Hi, Ned,” you urged and he grinned. 

“Hi!” he exclaimed and then promptly reached out and yanked Aemond’s long hair. 

You placed a hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh. 

Aemond chuckled as he reached out and detangled his hair from Ned’s chubby little fingers. 

“You are trouble, handsome boy,” Aemond teased and Ned and the other children giggled. 

Ned then ran over to you and threw himself on your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair and hugged him.

“Did you say hello to Prince Aemond, my little dragon heart?” you asked him and he nodded at you with a grin. 

You did not miss the way Helaena looked at you in surprise at your words, but chose to ignore her for you knew she would never betray you and Aemond. 

The twins continued to bounce around Aemond as he strode over to where you and Helaena were sitting. 

“Aem-” Ned tried to say but looked at you in confusion as he forgot the second half of the word. 

“Aemond,” you said to him, slowly so he could imitate you and pronounce it. 

“Yes, my lady?” Aemond asked you cheekily and you smirked at him. 

“Aemond,” Ned said slowly and actually pronounced the word correctly. 

“Good job, my love,” you said and you kissed him on the cheek. 

“It is my name, do I not get a kiss as well?” Aemond asked and you shot him a reprimanding look that caused him to smirk. 

Your son slid from your lap and walked over to Aemond where he sat next to Helaena and climbed onto his lap with unexpected boldness. 

Aemond smiled and pushed his hair behind his shoulders where it would be safe from little hands before he held onto his son. 

You pressed your lips together and attempted to control your emotions as you watched your son sit on his father’s lap for the first time. 

“Aemond,” Ned said again as he reached for his father’s face. Aemond allowed the boy to caress his cheek and then did the same back to him. 

“Are you alright?” Helaena whispered to you and you realized you were crying. 

You sniffled and quickly wiped away the stray tears. 

“Yes of course,” you whispered back but as Aemond met your gaze you could tell he was feeling emotional as well. 

Soon, your son, being a typical little boy, got bored and wiggled off Aemond’s lap to once again run around with the twins. 

Aemond spent the better part of an hour with you, Helaena, and the children, and you felt happier than you had been in years. 

Before you left, you looked up at the Red Keep and saw your husband where he stood and watched you from a balcony. Your heart jumped into your throat and you worried about what all he had seen and whether or not he would put the pieces together and become doubtful and suspicious of you. 

He turned and left as soon as he saw you spotted him. 

________________

Your husband strode into your room that evening. 

You looked up at him in surprise. 

Honestly, you hadn’t seen much of him the entirety of this trip and you liked it that way. You also hoped against hope that he had only spotted you and Ned in the Godswood after Aemond left. 

“Good evening,” you said to him as he sat in the chair opposite you before the hearth. 

Ned sat on the floor and played with toys while he babbled. 

“I came to inform you that we shall be departing for Winterfell earlier than planned,” he said. 

“Why?” you asked carefully. 

“First you did not want to come and now you do not wish to leave? Is there no pleasing you, woman?” he asked sharply. 

You took a deep steadying breath to quell your temper. 

“Aemond,” Ned said with a giggle. 

Your heart stopped and you felt as if you could vomit from the tension. 

Cregon looked at him in shock and then at you with anger. 

“Why is he talking about the prince?” he asked, danger in his voice. 

“Oh, we spent time with the queen and her children today and the prince came for a while. He was learning all their names and it seems the prince’s name was easiest for him to remember and pronounce,” you said as casually as you could. 

“I see,” he said as if he didn’t believe you at all. 

“And did the king happen to come by as well?” he asked. 

You snorted, “Of course not.” 

“What is it you have against the king?” he asked in an accusing tone. 

You sighed. “I told you he is dangerous and you need to be careful around him.” 

“And what of the one eyed prince? Many say he is cruel and dangerous as well, yet you appear to be fine with him being near our son,” he said angrily. 

“I-I had no choice. What am I to say to a prince of the realm?” 

He huffed and glared at you, but you knew it meant he had no retort back and you had won the argument. 

His suspicion, however, worried and stressed you. 

You had told him, years ago, that you and Aemond were close as children like everyone said, but had a falling out when you were older so he would not question the tension between the two of you and instead write it off as being due to residual anger and hurt feelings. 

It seemed that lie was no longer enough to dissuade his concerns. Your marriage was a teetering tower of lies that only a gust of wind could topple. 

“The festivities come to a close tomorrow, we leave the day after,” he said firmly with a glare that prevented you from protesting, then he stormed out. 

That night when Aemond arrived in your chambers, you walked swiftly to him and clung to him. 

“He says we will be leaving for Winterfell the day after tomorrow, Aemond,” you said, near panic as you looked up at his face. 

He pressed his lips together in frustration. 

“Do not let him take me away again. I-I can’t survive it. I want to be with you. I want to be home. Aemond, I can’t, please-” you gasped out as hot tears fell from your eyes and streaked down your face. 

“Shhhh,” he held you tighter and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“I promised you I would protect you and our son, did I not?” he said calmly. 

You nodded, your face still pressed into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat calmed your frayed nerves. 

“This is a mere stumbling block to my plans, but one I shall resolve. You will not be forced to leave my side again, dear heart. I promise you that,” his voice was deep and reassuring as he rubbed your back. 

“He is suspicious,” you warned. 

“Do not fret. I shall handle it,” he said. 

You nodded and sniffled as you attempted to stop the tears. 

“I am scared,” you admitted in a small voice. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked as he placed a hand on your cheek and jaw and tilted your head up so you could meet his gaze. 

“Of course,” you breathed out. “With my life.” 

“Then trust in my promise,” he said gently. 

You nodded and he kissed you, soft and slow and reassuring. 

He deepened the kiss and as you tasted a mix of him and the saltiness of your tears, your worries began to melt away. 

To be continued….

Part Three    Epilogue

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

To Hell...: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Summary: A man intentionally admits to murdering ten people he didn’t kill all because his sister is missing. The facts take you to a pig farm where a world of horror is waiting for you.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"If there were no hell, we would be like the animals. No hell, no dignity." - Flannery O'Connor

Two weeks have gone by since the Anthrax attack. For two weeks, Spencer has been in recovery. This is the first day he gets to come to work after getting out of the hospital. Everyone is inside the bullpen and their respective offices while you're outside in the empty hallway. You need a moment to yourself to calm your racing heart.

You're still not over almost losing Spencer. He's fine now and has been cleared by the doctor but the fear of losing him is still in the back of your mind. Things like fear, panic, and sadness hit you harder than any other emotion because of how strong they can be. They hate being alone, so they try to take as many people down with them as possible.

"Hey, there you are," Spencer says from the double glass doors. "Are you okay?" You shake your head and refuse to look at him. If you do, you're scared you'll never stop crying. "Darling, I'm okay now. There's no permanent damage."

When you don't look at him, he puts two fingers under your chin and lifts your head so you're forced to look him in the eyes.

"Did you know your love consumes me? It's passionate and intense and it hurts sometimes because I'm so in love with you. I have never loved anyone as much as I love you, so when you get hurt, it's ten times more difficult for me because I'm an empath."

Spencer cuts you off by placing his lips on yours. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. You can't ever get enough of his lips, his touch, or his love.

"Just know I'm not going anywhere," he whispers. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. "I still need to marry you and have your kids."

This time, you smile a happy one and kiss him again.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," JJ clears her throat. You and Spencer part from each other to look at her. "The meeting's about to start."

"Yeah, we'll be right there."

JJ leaves and you reach up to fix Spencer's hair.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"Not possible," you grin.

"Yes, possible."

You two cut your cheesy moment short and join everyone in the briefing room so that JJ can get started on the case. She starts by putting a video on the screen for everyone to watch. On the Canada Border, there are a lot of cars getting checked before going through, but there is this one that draws the attention of some of the officers.

One car passes through the checkpoint but stops right as he does, and officers gather around to tell him to move. Instead of complying, he drives his car right through the barricade, turns around, and rams right into one of the checkpoint booths.

Officers from all over get their guns out and remove him from the car, and they slam the man down on the ground face-first. They handcuff him where he lays, pull him to his feet, and he looks up at the camera.

"His name is William Hightower. He claims over the past month, he's picked ten people off the streets of Detroit, killed them, and dumped their bodies across the border in Canada."

"Has he given up the dumpsite?"

"He said he'll only talk to the FBI."

"Do we have confirmation these people are even missing?" Spencer asks.

"Two were reported missing by family months ago, but they all appear to be transients. We're having a hard time finding any information on them."

"Garica?"

"Like a bloodhound, sir," she says and leaves the briefing room to find information on the ten people.

"So, what do we know about Will?"

"Up until two months ago, he was a Sergeant in the Us Army that did two tours in Iraq. He lost his left leg in a roadside ambush. He was discharged with a purple heart and a commendation for Valor."

"The Royal Canadian Mounted Police are requesting our help?"

"They don't have a lot of choice."

"If he manages to get away with ten murders, why crash the guard post?"

"It could be an attempted suicide. Maybe he was trying to take as many people with him as he could," Emily theorizes.

"It could also be a case of post-traumatic stress disorder. Do we think it's legit?"

"I think it's too many bodies to take chances. Wheels up in thirty."

Hotch is the last one to leave the room, and before he can go on his way, you stop him.

"Hey, I just want to apologize for yelling at you two weeks ago. I shouldn't have done that."

"I understand the stress you were under. Honestly, I would have done the same thing if I were you. I hope you and Reid are doing okay."

"Yeah, we are now."

Hotch pats you on the back and leaves your side. Everyone meets on the plane and the pilot starts the three-and-a-half-hour flight to Windsor International Airport in Canada. JJ looks through the files containing the claims Will made about the murders.

"He documented them all in detail with names, photos, dates, and locations of where he took them."

"He has a Military background, so he's bound to be organized. He definitely doesn't have a type. The only consistency is that they were all abducted in the same area."

"Yeah, what do we know about that?" Emily asks.

"It's called the Cass Corridor. It's right here." Spencer points it out on a map. "It has an extremely high concentration of drug trafficking, prostitution, and homeless people. All high-risk behavior."

"Maybe for Will, it's more about opportunity than victimology."

"Morgan and Prentiss, when we land, I want you to head straight to Detroit and see if you hear anything in the whisper stream. I want to make sure we have a crime before we get too deeply into this. The rest of us will meet with the legal attache before we hit the Royal Canadian Mounted Police."

"Actually, sir, the officer in charge said that his team was part of a fellowship the BAU gave to train police forces in profiling," JJ says.

"That was the first one we ever did. His name is Jeff Bedwell."

"You know him? Is he any good?"

"He better be. I trained him," Rossi smirks.

As soon as the plane lands, your team splits up with you going with the majority to the police station. Jeff Bedwell eagerly greets Rossi when he sees him.

"Jeff, how have you been?"

"You mean besides having serial killers trying to take out our border agents?"

"Jeff, these are Agents Aaron Hotchner, Spence Reid, Y/N, and Jennifer Jareau."

"Thanks for being here. I've got a victim board and timelines set up on monitors in the conference room. Anything you need, you've got the run of the place."

"We appreciate it."

"Don't thank me, thank the unsub. He's the one that put you all in charge."

You walk into the conference room and see all the missing victims on the board.

"I need to go talk to Garcia and see if she had any luck locating the family members. I'll also check records for multiple border crosses and see if we get any hits for the days the victims went missing," JJ says and leaves the room.

"Do you believe he killed all these people?" you ask.

"It fits the profile."

"How so?"

"He's got recent physical trauma that could be a stressor, wide disparity of victims, no bodies, possible border cross, and two entirely different terrains. To pull that off, you'd have to be smart, organized, mobile, and physical. His Military background gives us all that."

"It appears as though he clusters his victims into men, then women, and then back to men again."

"What does that tell you?" Jeff asks Spencer.

"At the moment, nothing."

"Has he contacted his family?"

"No, and he refuses a lawyer."

"Is he here in interrogation?"

"Yes."

"This guy is from the US Army who demanded to talk to the FBI. He's not gonna want to talk to anyone but the person he thinks is in charge."

"Of course. I'll take you to him."

Rossi and Spencer stay in the conference room while you and Hotch follow Jeff to where Will is being held. You can see him through the two-way glass and notice his anger. However, it's not a rageful anger but a calm one. He's staring at the window as if he can see right through it.

"Has he been agitated this whole time?"

"He hasn't even flinched."

"Does he know that we're here?"

"Yeah, we told him. Are you not gonna interrogate him?" Jeff asks.

"If I go in now, he's in charge. If I wait and gather information... It's my interview. Let's see what we turn up in Detroit."

Derek and Emily noticed something strange when they got to Detroit. Not a single person isolated themselves from everyone else, and they've all set up camps. People on the streets don't usually care about safety in numbers unless something scared them into changing their behavior. Drug deals are happening in the daytime and prostitutes seem to be working in groups. If Will did kill ten people, he couldn't have done it without witnesses.

Emily asked the girls while Derek stuck to the homeless population. Derek talked to someone who seemed to know who the last victim was, and his name is Charles who was a junkie. He's been gone for two days, and it wouldn't have been weird except that a lot of people have been disappearing.

When they do, they don't come back.

It's normal for people to leave and not come back, but this guy has never seen anything like this before. Derek showed him a picture of Will and asked about him, and the man says that everyone tries to avoid Will. He's got a gun and no one wants any beef with him. He keeps asking about everyone who's gone missing, when they went missing, and just about everything he needs to make it look like he's the one who killed them.

Before Hotch goes in, you put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Can I take the lead on this one?"

"What are you thinking?"

"That he didn't kill anyone. Don't worry, I won't choke you."

"Alright, let's see what you've got."

You and Hotch walk into the room and Will gives you a stone-cold look.

"I'm Agent Y/N and this is my boss, Aaron Hotchner, the Behavioral Analysis Unit Chief of the FBI."

"Are you here to analyze me?"

"No. I'm here for your confession, and to find out where you've dumped the bodies."

"I gave you names and dates."

"Not dump sites. You didn't give that information because you don't know where their bodies are, do you?" Will stays silent, and you get the impression that he's desperate out of love. "I know you were a Sergeant that led troops, and you've probably lost some men along the way, right?"

"A few."

"How would their parents feel if they didn't know whether their sons and daughters were dead or alive?"

"Don't lecture me on notifying families," Will angrily says. He takes a deep breath and composes himself. "No one cares about those people. Why should I?"

He got angry when you mentioned the word "families".

"You didn't kill those men, did you?"

"What makes you think I didn't?"

"Because you were out there every night showing people their photographs and checking their names off in a notebook. You'd only do that if you were looking for someone. Who are you missing, William?"

It's the kindness in your voice that causes him to break down crying. You look at Hotch and he encourages you to continue.

"You intentionally made sure everyone was out of that checkpoint booth before hitting it. You never wanted to kill anyone, just like you didn't kill those ten people. Now, I believe you when you say these people are missing. Is that what you wanted? To make us investigate so we'd find whoever it is you're missing?"

"Yes," he cries.

"Who is it?"

"My baby sister, Lee. When I got home from Iraq, the first thing my mother told me was that Lee was on the streets. She asked me to find her. I managed to find her once and brought her home. We fed her, got her cleaned up, and I let her wear my dog tags for good luck. Two weeks later, she slipped back onto the streets."

"Will, you provided so much information on the ten victims, but you didn't give us anything on Lee. Why is that?"

"I hid it in my spare tire. I needed to wait until I was sure that you were on board."

"What can you tell us about Lee?"

Will gives you everything he had on Lee, and you found the file he gathered on her in the spare tire in his trunk. He even gave you his phone that has a voicemail she sent to him right before she disappeared. You leave the interrogation room with Hotch and turn to him with a smile.

"Did I choke you?"

"You did a really good job. I'm serious. Keep up the good work."

"Thank you," you grin.

x

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[thecameronchronicles]

Unexpected

TW: Angst. Hints of domestic abuse. Fluffy Rafe. Protective Rafe. Mentions of pregnancy.

SUMMARY: Rafe defends you against his father and reminds you why this new life with him is worth it all. 

WORD COUNT: 2200

REQUESTED

Hi! I have a request for when you come back! I hope it isn’t too similar to anything you’ve written before. This is kind of long so if you write this please take out/change anything you want! So you are a pogue and are dating rafe (not canon rafe) and ward is still kind of ehh about you (meanwhile rose, sarah, and wheezie love you) and your parents are still ehh about rafe. Even though you and rafe are always careful, you end up pregnant and when you and rafe tell your parents they kick you out. So of course rafe tells you to move in with him and when rafe (and you) gets back home he asks everyone to come downstairs and you guys tell his family. Ward plays it cool but later that night you wake up in the middle of the night to go get a glass of water and but see rose standing in the hallway listening to rafe and ward arguing about you and ward says stuff like “how could you be so stupid” “she’s just using you for money” and rafe is trying to be civil and not argue (cause non canon rafe) but then ward says something REALLY bad like “are you even sure it’s yours?” And rafe goes OFF on ward and it gets really bad that rose and eventually you step in and rafe looks at you and is just thinking like “please tell me she didn’t hear all of this”. You and rose calm rafe and ward down and go to bed and rafe is just like “what all did you hear” and you tell him and he’s like “you know everything he said isn’t true” “if he ever talks to you or treats you like that you tell me”. You could end it here and just have it be them going to bed or maybe add the next day (or a few days later) ward apologizes. If you wanted to make it even longer then maybe some time jumps to different stages! Like first doctor appointment, finding out what you’re having, stating to show more, etc.  Can’t wait for your return! 

*THIS IS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL REQUEST AND I HOPE I AM ABLE TO DO IT JUSTICE!*

Unexpected

You weren't exactly sure what you were expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. The expressions in which you only wanted to wear pride in reference to you, were now filled with such disappointment. A silent conversation of lowered eyes and scowled mouths that ultimately offered their lack of support in a mutual shaking of their heads. It was during this that Rafe extended his large hand over yours as confirmation. A quiet but powerful grip that reminded you that you were in this together. 

"We raised you to be smarter than this..." Your mother finally spoke as Rafe tensed to how you were addressed. Yet, he did not want to infiltrate the clear frailty of the situation you seemed to have somewhat control over. Instead, he remained on the fringes of a defense. 

"I hope you don't expect us to be raising this baby..." Your father added. 

"Sir, I-" Rafe attempted. 

"You've done enough." Rafe's jaw clenched as he carried his hand to your knee in a further attempt to console you. 

"We've been careful. Always. I never wanted to disrespect her, I've only ever wanted to take care of her..." Rafe validated and simplified his intentions as your eyes illuminated and paused from the tears your parents brought behind your eyes. 

"You think you can?"

"I know, I can..." Your father's jaw pulled to a cocked rest as he slowly nodded. 

"Then she's yours." Your mother looked at your dad for a second before bowing in submission. 

"I think everyone's a bit on edge-"

"One more word, Rafe..." Your father threatened as you moved tearfully to stand before he collected your hand. 

"Just come with me..."

"My stuff-" You looked towards the hall leading to your bedroom as you sniffled. Once happy memories in pictures surrounding this heartbreaking exchange as you could feel the tension grow the longer you lingered. 

"I will take care of you. I promised that a long time ago," His eyes rose to your parents. "And it's a shame they won't get to see it." Before you could reject, he guided you to his car. 

The car remained silent as his hand kept to your thigh. Not a moment since you read the handful of tests to be positive that you were left untouched. 

"I can't do it again..." You confessed as he cut the engine before moving out of the car. In what you believed to be anger, you prepared for a true apprehension to place the blame on you. But once that door came open, he lowered until he could see your expression from beneath the fold you'd made towards him. A bent finger offering every contortion of your expression now made knowledgeable to him. 

"It's you and me. Nobody else but us," His hand rested on your stomach, "matters. And I'm sorry it hurts, but I promise you, I'm never going anywhere. Not when you've given me something so...so beautiful...something that's mine. Ours " He quickly corrected as you nodded. 

"Ours..." You agreed as he helped you from the car, treating you as if you were glass before leading you into Tannyhill. It had taken only a moment before Rose and Wheezie were already in the kitchen discussing your outfit and how they favored it. Of the handful of girls they knee held Rafe's attention, you had been the one in which they adored. All because you didn't care about price tags or club memberships. You cared about authentic hearts, no matter how battered. And Rafe was one you wanted to nurture as you saw the potential beauty it possessed. And even under the shade of a star crossed sky, it bloomed by the nurture offered by you both. 

"What, are you pregnant or something?" Sarah asked with indifference, kind enough to you to not be an enemy, but too wrapped in her own drama to worry about getting close to you one way or another. When your eyes darted to Rafe, who smiled with nervous pride, Sarah's expression changed. 

"Shit..." 

"Well..." Ward was taken aback, catching the confession at the very last second before surprising you with an embrace. But there was something in the grasp that was clearly forced. 

"Her family wasn't as...receptive..."

"Our house is always open to you. Especially now..." His eyes fell to your stomach as Wheezie was nearly bouncing off the walls from excitement. A thousand and one questions came about from baby names to gender wishes as you were unaware Ward had pulled Rafe away. 

After being given the celebration you were denied by your own blood, you were taken to your room. But as you had fallen asleep in his arms rather quickly when he returned to you,  from an exhausting day, you were too immersed in slumber to notice the isolation that came somewhere after you found this rest. 

But your feet were only able to move a few steps before muffled voices were heard beneath your soles. Low enough to not make out the conversation itself, but passionate enough to shake the antiquated bones of the landmark you resided in beneath the grace of the owners. Because of this, whatever reason you'd been made conscious for faltered, and you searched the source of such vocality. 

At the bottom of the steps you would find Rose against the wall outside Ward's study, a pinch on the bridge of her nose as her head came to shake. You knee the scene well as it was often a ridicule of Rafe in what should have been kind yet constructive criticism. 

"We were safe-"

"Apparently not safe enough! I knew if it came down between you and Sarah that I wouldn't be able to rely on you for the brains of any operation, but how could you be so stupid?" Your eyes narrowed. Rafe never explained how cruel his father could be. Instead, he evaded the moments instead and often distracted you with soft kisses, your teasing, and even eventually sultry games of tag, but never in detail as you witnessed now. And it made your blood boil and her jaw tighten before Rose caught your arm. 

"Let them deal with it..." She spoke in warning, true fear behind her eyes as you released a sigh before looking in the slit of the door. 

"She's just using you for your money, don't you get that?!" You commended Rafe for remaining posies through this emotional degradation. Hurtful words from someone who was always supposed to instruct had spoken volumes of his character to not retaliate. But it would take one unwise comment and he was in his soles and towards his father. 

"Sounds to me she doesn't have very high standards...and she hangs around those other pogues all the time. Where she belongs. But how do you know it's even yours?" Rose bolted into the room, trying to keep the men apart as the volume became too obnoxious to make out what either of them had said. But where you were worried about Rafe acting on impulse and doing something he would regret, he was focused on you. Hoping you didn't hear how his father spoke of you. Especially after the rejection and heartlessness of your own family. But now it was your turn to defend the relationship so many had waged against. 

"I love Rafe, Mister Cameron-" He scoffed, fishing a hand through his hair to correct it as you held yourself in front of Rafe as his hands were soft on your hips. But when you spoke these words to hope it would soften the tension,he only scoffed. 

"What could you possibly see in him?" You could feel Rafe deflate behind you. His sole weakness against his promise to you having Ren his father's words. 

"Everything you don't." Ward sent himself forward to speak as Rafe stood before you in immediate defense before you continued. Even as his body shook, symptoms of an unhealthy exchange worn in his tremors, his priority was to protect you. And his child. 

"Rafe has more heart and compassion, that I am beyond grateful he doesn't get from you. And not only is he going to make an incredible father, despite the fact his role model was less than ideal, he is going to excel in all he does because he is smart and devoted and attentive and liayal."

"If you think you get a single penny-" 

"I don't want your money!"

"Maybe not now, but when you are eating off of three days old take out and your power gets cut off-"

"You have no idea, do you?" You asked with narrowed eyes as his eyes rolled. 

"Humor me..."

"Just how much he is going to excel being away from you..." You interlaced your fingers in Rafe's as you led him from the house and down the driveway. Mindless steps continued until he pulled you to a stop. 

"Maybe we can stay at Topper's just for the night until I can get a plan...But I promise you-"

"The only promise you need to make me is that you'll love me...This responsibility doesn't fall on you, Rafe. Not alone anyway." He bowed his head. "And he wasn't right about what he said. Any of it."

"I'm sorry you had to hear any of it...I just want to protect you and I feel like you being with me only hurts you..."

"What hurts is being away from you." To this, he illuminated. More than the stars overhead or the fire in your hearts. 

"Well then you'll never be in pain again, baby. You're stuck with me..." 

"And you're stuck with us..." He grinned widely as your hand set over your stomach. 

The first few months were trying for the initial changes of the coming life within you. Milestones and moments came and distanced as occasional stress and tension found their way within. Following the first doctor's appointment, and a guilt trip from Rose and Wheezie, Ward altered his attempts until you were on chivalrous terms. Maybe never close, but close enough to supply a healthy enough environment for the coming child. 

A boy. A baby boy you'd hoped would harbor Rafe's kind eyes and strong heart. But he would teasingly argue against this as  you were wrapped within his arms at night. The days that continued were spent watching you round, kicks and heartbeats sounded at every chance and sonogram photos hung proudly in the mirror of your shared bedroom to view them as often as possible. 

"You and me, baby..." Rafe reminded by his arms coming around you with a humorous strain to what was once so effortlessly, his hands coming to a rest over yours as your son kicked. 

"Us."

"All of us."

"Forever." You turned to kiss him, such a simple notion validating why this would never be a regret or a mistake in any context. Even if it was unexpected, the best things often are...

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