#now its like every time i open this site or turn there's some argument and usually it's stuff i agree with

[lunar-wandering]

every time i open tumblr i end up seeing a post or something or other that triggers my intrusive thoughts again. i really wanna come back but it’s becoming really difficult to manage to open up this site and feel happy about being here.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Phantom

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Nothing that's not Canon. But just in case, mentions of torture

Author’s Note: Its a day early but I dont care. A little bit more of torture. But I keep writing and adding more. 😅 I promise action and more next chapter. Characters might be a little out of character (Tony mostly) because I was having issues writing. My muse has been a fickle bitch lately. As a reminder, please be sure to follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications so you never miss a fic!

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

Every detail about her time as Phantom was sitting in his hand. Her trigger words, the torment and conditioning she had been subjected to, along with notes from her handlers about her missions would be within the pages of the journal. The one thing that kept her from ever falling into the wrong hands without a fight and he now had it. 

She trusted him with the very detailed past she tried so hard to keep hidden from him. Trusted him with the very thing that could be used against her time and time again if allowed. He had it in his hand and he wanted nothing more than to watch it burn. 

"FRIDAY, pull up any footage that may have caught a glimpse of Y/N." 

Tony’s voice had caused Bucky to put everything back into its place before almost slamming the top back onto the box earning looks from the others. He simply shrugged his shoulders before bringing the box to his side. The vibranium keeping the box in a tight hold. 

Unfortunately the only footage found was time stamped two days before her capture. A projected video came up from Tony’s watch. A tourist couple had been recording the vendors area. 

Bucky had moved closer to look at the video footage as it began to play. They could hear the loud environment as the video began to pan over the vendors. People were chatting away and you could hear some laughter in the background. 

Different vendors panned within seconds before a particular stand came into view. While the person behind the camera had been focused only on the goods each vendor had, they had unknowingly caught Y/N on camera. 

Bucky watched as she spoke with a vendor. Watched as she would occasionally take in her surroundings, keeping watch of what could be lurking. A moment later the vendor pointed to something up and off screen. Y/N nodded her head a moment later before handing over cash. It wasn't long after that the person filming had moved past that particular stand and filmed the next vendor. 

"This is how they found her. " Natasha noted. 

"Why didn't we get notified about this clip?" Bucky asked. 

With the recent missions, the data changed the sequence of importance in regards to Y/N.  FRIDAY began. It earned a glare from Bucky. The more the team has cleaned up Hydra, the less information there is on her. Facial recognition scans have not been successful until now. 

"Why don't we take this back to the quinjet?" Natasha offered. She could see the look of frustration and anger growing on Bucky. Her head nodded towards the shop owner who was leaning on the countertop listening with curiosity. 

Bucky shook his head slightly before he turned and walked out of the shop. The sound of the door swinging open and slamming shut had caused the bells to rattle loudly causing the shop owner to flinch as it did.  

"You know how this argument is going to happen, right?" Natasha asked as she watched Bucky through the window. 

A long sigh came from Tony. "Yeah. If she was anyone else, she shouldn't have dropped lower on the priority list. I dropped the ball."

Bucky’s pace back to the quinjet had been quick. Each step he had taken seemed to cause the people around him to open a path for him to pass. He was sure that his stance was probably intimidating but at the moment he was trying to calm the internal storm that was brewing. And endless cycle of questions playing through his head. 

How could she drop on the priority list? 

How could FRIDAY not alert there was a video of her? 

Would she be in Hydra’s hold now if I had known sooner? 

Would I have made it in time to prevent it? 

He didn't even notice the others coming towards him after looking through the apartments. He hadn't heard when Steve yelled out his name to get his attention several times.  Nor did he notice the medium size box that Wanda held in her arms. 

_____

The lies have finally caught up to me. I thought I burned and buried it deep enough. The hurt on Bucky’s face was proof that it hadn't been deep enough. I deserved every reaction he gave tonight before giving me the slightest moment of having a real birthday. I didn't deserve his kindness. If I'm being honest I should be locked away in a cell somewhere. Not currently sitting under an overpass for the night. 

I can't stop seeing the look on his face and it kills me. I hurt him and I betrayed him in a way that there's no going back from. 

Bucky knew he needed a moment to cool off. That up until recently everyone believed that Y/N was keeping to herself and doing a damn good job of it. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to argue with Stark about it all.  But in reality, the blame game wouldn't do any of them any good. 

Once he was on the quinjet alone, he found himself pulling out her journal and flipping through the pages. Part of him yelled that he shouldn't go through it. But the other part had wanted to believe there was something in there she'd leave for him to find. 

His attention caught her birthday entry. As much as he tried to forget how things happened that night, they've haunted him since. Reading that entry however, hadn't brought him any kind of comfort. 

I hope that one day he can forgive me. But I know there's a chance he never will. Life sure does have a way of coming back around and biting you in the ass. I should have done things differently. I should have… It's pointless to think about all the things I could have done. I've made my bed. The least I can do is lie uncomfortably in it. 

"Bucky?" Wanda's voice was soft, pulling his attention from the journal. When Bucky looked up, he found Wanda standing there with a box in her arms. She had a small sympathetic smile on her face. "We found the apartment she used." 

Quickly closing the journal, he set it on top of the box beside him before standing. "Anything?" 

"Nothing that would help us to figure out where they might have gone." She said with a slight tilt of her head. "But I've found things she left behind. I thought you would want to go through them instead of leaving them there." 

As she held the box out, Bucky gently took it from her. "Thank you for grabbing it." He turned and placed the box next to the other. 

Wanda watched as he had done so. "Can I tell you something?" She asked a moment later. 

Bucky’s eyebrow raised slightly as he turned to face her, but he nodded. "Sure." 

"It isn't my intention to make you feel guilt or fear in any way with what I'm about to say." She watched as Bucky almost steeled himself for the inevitable. "While I have never attempted to see into your mind for respect for your privacy, there was a time I saw into hers for a moment. She did not fear many things. Not with the history she had. But she feared for you." She watched as Bucky’s face fell. "I did not understand why until recently." She paused for a moment as she heard the others begin to board the quinjet. "Her greatest fear was losing you by her own doing. I do not know if that fear was centered around what has already happened or if it was rooted deeper than keeping her past from you." 

Bucky could only nod his head as he tried to process the information she had given him. He could now understand why that had been her fear. He understood the possibility of what she could possibly do in the process. Not only to him, but to others and the emotional torment that came with it. 

"Did you know?" He asked curiously. If Wanda had seen into her mind, she must have seen something that gave Y/N away. 

"Not until her party." Wanda responded. "Probably after you had learned the truth. Her mind had been completely open after you returned to the party." She sighed softly. "She was saying goodbye while we sang to her." 

Flashes of memories played through his mind at her words. The fake smile that was plastered on his face as anger and betrayal laid just beneath it. The way Y/N had a smile on her face as their friends had begun to sing to her. 

But he had missed the shift in her eyes that had been clear to Wanda. He had missed the moment Y/N had said her goodbyes through facial expressions. He had been too busy being angry with her. 

Tony cleared his throat getting their attention. The others had been standing off not too far. When Bucky looked towards him, Tony had been rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I adjusted protocols with FRIDAY. Y/N has been prioritized as unchanging number one." He began. "I've also adjusted it so that any and all new information comes directly to you to ensure nothing is missed. If I had known she had fallen on the priority list, I would have fixed it immediately. We all want her back and she would have been back sooner if-” 

Incoming call from Colonel Rhodes. High priority for the team. 

Tony shook his head and mumbled about interrupting him before instructing the AI to put him on speaker. “For someone who was such in rush to leave us earlier, this call sounds like you miss us.” He shrugged slightly. “Or checking in like some overprotective parent.” 

"Ha ha, very funny. If I hadn't left, we'd all be in the dark about this. I have some information that might be of interest for that trip you're on." His voice came over the speaker. 

"Spill." Tony said as he looked over at the others. 

"A convoy with heavy duty machinery was ambushed leaving Germany early this morning." 

"That doesn't sound like anything of use." Natasha noted. 

"It was an inside job." That caused Bucky’s eyebrow to raise as he listened to the call. "It was decided less than 12 hours ago to move the convoy. No one could plan this elaborate of an ambush given that time frame. The information they had, they knew more than they should have." 

"Anything on the team?" Steve asked. 

"That's the thing that's got a lot of people scratching their heads on all fronts." The group looked at each other as if hearing those words had sparked something within them. "Ten soldiers were assigned. When the files were pulled for investigation only nine were found. Both physical and digital copies disappeared. When asked about the tenth soldier, they could only say that she was hand selected for her skills. Any piece of footage they have has been scrubbed without so much as a glimpse of her. Whoever she is, she's pretty damn good at being invisible." 

"Any survivors?" Tony asked. 

"Two fatalities. The others are going to make it out alive. The other mystery is why those two and not the others." 

Bucky’s heart dropped as he processed the information. Three weeks had been too long for her. In that time they had manipulated her mind into being the asset she once was and tossed her back into the fire. 

"They saw her face." He said a moment later. It caused all eyes to turn towards him. He sighed as he looked back at them. "No loose ends. Everything else can't prove she was there. You leave someone alive that knows who you are and the game is over." 

"That makes sense." Natasha said with a shrug. "Can't describe someone you didn't see."

"If it was anyone else who said it, I'd be worried." Rhodes responded. "Now I hate to ask, but how sure are we that this wasn't done willingly?" 

"She fought her way out before being captured." Bucky added. "None of this was willing. Everything she's left for us shows she wouldn't go down without a fight."

“Did she happen to leave any idea where they'd be heading next?" Rhodes asked. 

"I doubt it." Bucky said with a sigh. "I haven't had a chance to go digging through what she left behind." 

"That's if she even had a chance to leave anything behind." Sam noted. "By the looks of things she barely had enough time to leave what she did." 

"If she did leave any indication, Hydra found it while searching her apartment." Steve added. It caused Bucky’s eyes to shoot over to Steve. "With the way the place was ransacked, they might have found what they were looking for. " 

Keep it safe. Keep it hidden.

Bucky had almost mentioned they hadn't found what they were looking for. He had the very thing they were wanting and they couldn't find it. He should have mentioned it. He should have told them about the journal, but he couldn't bring himself to. 

He trusted the people currently standing in the room with him and would gladly watch their backs at any given time. He would put his life on the line for a majority of them without a second thought. But the fear of having that journal fall into the wrong hands stopped him from saying anything about it. 

"Just means we're gonna have to do a wide search while digging deep." He said instead. "We know they're out there and they're using her. With the proper channels, we should be able to find something to get a lead before she's used for anything more drastic." 

"You mean more than killing people?" Rhodes' voice filled the air. 

"Given how Hydra used her in the past," Natasha began before Bucky could. "A few deaths are better than her being used to bring down governments in Hydra’s favor. So yeah, let's get her back before we find ourselves either preventing or fighting a war we couldn't prevent.” 

____ 

Six Months Later

The main conference room walls had been covered in papers taped to the walls. Each paper corresponds to a recent event that involved Hydra in some way. Each grouping of papers laid out the details of another ambush at Hydra’s hands. Each one taking either a piece of equipment or technology. 

Even with all the information displayed on the walls, the Avengers had no idea what Hydra was attempting to assemble. FRIDAY couldn't pinpoint any variations of possible weapons. Nor could the AI predict where they could possibly hit next. 

However, over the last several months they had been able to uncover several new hideaways that Hydra had been using. Each of them had helped to supply information towards the grand scheme of things. But with each thorough sweep, there were never any signs of Y/N. 

With every Hydra captive they interrogated, none of them had physically laid eyes on Phantom. They all gave the same answer in different words but none of them could give locations. Phantom was only accessible through her handler. 

Her handler that they all refused to give up any details about. The captives either went silent and refused to say anything else, or they purposely gave false information to throw off the Avengers. And when they came up empty handed from those false leads, it was Bucky that paid them a visit. 

Bucky practically moved into the conference room. A pillow and blankets found a new home on the couch by the back wall. Only leaving when the missions deemed it necessary. 

As he stood by the conference table going over the new files from their recent raid, Bucky’s mind occasionally went back to Y/N's journal. He had read it cover to cover several times and the small passages that surprisingly made him smile had played on a loop when he felt he needed it. 

This is a little slice of heaven. I found myself actually enjoying a beach day. Last week, I walked past an antique shop that had a globe sitting in view of the window. I couldn't resist and I found myself spinning it. I was reminded how much we talked about doing something like picking a place on a spinning globe and just going there. It's how I ended up in Italy. It's peace. A calm that I haven't felt in months.

He could easily picture her sitting with her toes in the sand as she watched the waves. How he wished he would have been able to see her that day. But then there were entries that stuck in his mind for other reasons.

Out of all the things I've seen and believed in, you'd think I wouldn't be skeptical about psychics. But here I am sitting in the corner booth of a sketchy bar and this woman said she needed to speak with me. That the thoughts troubling me wouldn't last forever. And then she asked for his name. A name that I haven't physically spoken in over a year. Before I could even muster up a fake name to give her, she knew his name. Knew without me even saying anything. She told me he'd come around. That one day he was going to find me and save me from the internal torment that I'm facing. For a brief moment there was hope that sparked within me that maybe one day it would happen. Maybe one day Bucky will let me apologize a million times over. I hope that he can forgive me. But the reality is, after almost a year later, I don't think he will. 

With each entry he read Bucky wondered what would have happened if he hadn't waited so long to go looking for her. Would they be put on a mission together like they used to by now? Or would they be on that vacation he talked about taking with her at one point. 

Each page of her writing gave him a reason to kick himself in the ass for waiting so long. But in truth, he hadn't been ready to forgive her. The day he realized how much he missed her, she hadn't been to a safe house for six months. The day he forgave her was the day he started looking in vacant apartments when they completed missions. 

And now as he stared at the papers in front of him, he knew that no matter how many what if situations he played in his mind, they wouldn't fix anything. The what ifs weren't going to get her back from Hydra. They weren't going to free her from the hold the black journal held over her. 

At first Bucky kept the journal hidden. He didn't dare to open it and read any of the contents the pages held. He hadn't even thought about it until one night his nightmare got the best of him. One where Y/N couldn't be stopped from almost killing her friends. 

Bucky searched through the pages for one command and one command only. While he hoped it would never come down to it, he felt a little better knowing he could stop her from doing something she’d never recover from. 

A sigh passed his lips at the same time Steve walked into the room. 

“That bad?” Steve asked with a chuckle. 

Bucky shook his head. “No. I just…” He stopped for a moment as he looked at the file before him. “I thought by now we would have found her.” 

“We're not going to stop until we do.” Steve noted as he looked at the current spread of papers on the table. “Anything from Mexico?” 

A recent mission to a Hydra base just north of Mexico City provided them with more information than they had gotten in months. Bucky was attempting to sift through it all to see if anything could point them in the next direction. 

“Same as the others so far.” Bucky shook his head. “Intel for everything else but for her.” 

“The guys below haven't given up her handler either.” Steve added. More captives from the base, none of which wanted to speak about the handler. "Nat is giving it a go."

“Whoever it is, they're staying in the dark. They know the blind spots and use it to their advantage.” It was frustrating to Bucky. Frustrating to the team that a good lead would leave them empty handed.

Bucky picked up a CCTV still from the file he had been going through. The stills were deemed priority by FRIDAY for one reason or another. And as Bucky scanned the image attempting to find the reason, his eye caught the top corner of it. 

“What is it?” Steve asked as he caught the way Bucky’s brows began to furrow as he looked at the image. 

“FRIDAY?” Bucky called out to the AI. “Do we have the full clip from camera 5 that was flagged?” A moment later a projected image appeared from the middle of the table. 

Playing now. 

Both Bucky and Steve watched the clip. The camera angle had captured a side room and a hallway. A hallway that Bucky had recognized as he walked through it during the mission. The room in view was empty when he walked into it. 

But as the camera panned the area, equipment could be seen in the room. The sight of it caused his heart to pick up in pace as flashes of memories played in front of him. His fist clenched around the photo in his hand as he tried to push the memories away. He shook his head slightly as he watched soldiers begin making their way down the hallway. 

Several of them were struggling as they walked. Some were knocked down before quickly getting back up. A moment later, Y/N came into view, attempting to fight her way out of their hold. In view of the camera they watched as she threw punches and kicks. At one point she got a few of them off of her before a soldier came and tased her, sending her to the ground. 

Steve's eyes shot to Bucky. He knew what was about to happen given what he was watching. Bucky’s eyes had been fixed on the projection. Steve could see the anger growing within his body language as well as tears well up in his eyes. 

“FRIDAY turn-” 

“No.” Bucky said never taking his eyes off the video. 

It made Steve glad there was no audio attached to this clip. That there was no way for Bucky to hear the torment he was watching on the screen. He wouldn't be able to hear the way she started screaming the moment she was strapped in. 

“Buck,” Steve said the moment he watched a tear fall on Bucky’s cheek. He tried to get his attention away from the screen. 

“If her handler is in this video, I have to-” 

“FRIDAY, run facial recognition through the whole clip and shut this off.” It was Tony's voice that filled the air. Bucky turned towards him the moment FRIDAY shut off the video, shaking his head and ready to protest. “Natasha can be quite persuasive in her interrogations." He walked further into the room. "We were able to piece together what they're trying to make. And in the process, we learned what two things they'll be going for next and where they'll more than likely be hit.” 

“Where?” Bucky asked. The anger he felt didn't evaporate entirely. If anything it was fueling the need to get things rolling. He knew she was going to be the main player and that was his chance to get her back. 

Tony sighed as he looked over at Steve for a moment before looking back at Bucky. “That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Y/N won't be at either of them.” 

“Why wouldn't she be?” Bucky asked with a raised brow. 

“Unless this is another false lead, which doesn't seem likely, given how Natasha obtained the information, but "Phantom" has a new mission she's been tasked with.” When Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, Tony continued. “It's us.” 

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[that-struggling-writer-lh]

A Flower For Every Secret

WARNINGS FOR THIS WORK: No/Pre Outbreak. Minor language, suggestion of drinking, 18+ themes, no smut here but there will be eventually. Some fluff, Joel is not a grump here! No age gap specified, I guess use your imagination?

Word count: 1796

It started one week after I had settled into the small ranch-style house in a suburban neighborhood just outside of the Austin city limits. Summer was at its peak, the telltale signs all around. Children running and biking through the cul-de-sac, parents chasing and chastising children of all ages, the smell of fresh-cut grass and the smokiness of late-night bonfires lingered through the neighborhood. I wasn’t sure if I’d like it here, but in just two weeks, Austin had stolen my heart.

The rapid knocking at the door pulled me from my dinner preparations. With all of the windows open, letting the evening breeze let in the warm light of the sunset, I could hear the soft argument on the porch from the kitchen.

“Shut up, Dad, everyone likes brownies.”

“Maybe not her, feel bad, it’s dinner time, I don’t want to intrude.”

I smirked, recognizing the voices of Sarah and Joel Miller, my neighbors from across the street. Joel was a single father, who devoted his time and energy endlessly to Sarah and her friends. Unlike most of the parents in the neighborhood, Joel was often rompusing the streets with the children, kicking soccer balls, pitching baseballs, and leaving out coolers of fruit and water bottles for the kids to grab at their leisure. Carol, my neighbor to the right, had seen me grinning ear to ear at Joel riding a tricycle fit for a four year old the same day the movers were in and out of my house with boxes and boxes of things. She explained that Mr. Miller had so much time to spend with the children because his business was practically running itself after several years of success. Joel did mostly paperwork and HR things now whileTommy, his younger brother, handled on site management, and the rest typically fell into place aside from needing to be on site a few hours a week for touch ups and client issues.

Other than polite greetings and a short introduction, I knew nothing else of the eldest Miller brother.

Another rapid knock knock knock, “Sarah, honey, she’s probably not home.”

“She’s always home, Dad. Her car is right there.”

I abandoned my station at the cutting board and moved to the front of the house, opening the door and smiling at the family of two, “Howdy, Neighbor.” Joel greeted, running a hand through his curls slowly, “Sarah here was in the kitchen with one of her friends this afternoon and they decided this batch of goodies needed to find a home across the street.”

“Dad took one already.” Sarah interrupted, “There was supposed to be a dozen.”

Joel eyed me apologetically, “Quality control.”

I let a quiet laugh fall from my lips before turning my attention back to Sarah, “Well, one person certainly can’t eat all of these by herself. I’ve got enough dinner cooking for three people, if you guys want to join.” I offered, stepping aside and leaving room for the pair to enter my home.

“We shouldn’t.” Joel sucked in a breath.

“It smells good.” Sarah looked up to her father.

“Hate to let it all go to waste.” I shrugged, locking eyes with a reluctant Joel.

He hesitated for a moment longer before nodding to his daughter, “Alright, go ahead in, Sarah.”

They quickly made themselves at home, Sarah, with a nod of permission from me began flipping through television stations after she abandoned her brownie tray on the countertop, and Joel found a spot at the kitchen island opposite me while I finished chopping vegetables for a salad. “It’s just roasted chicken and potatoes with some salad. Hope that’s alright.” 

“Better than ordering a pizza tonight.” he smirked and watched as I sliced into a tomato.

“So, Mr. Miller.” I started,

“Joel.” he corrected quickly.

“Joel.” I nodded in confirmation, “How old is Sarah? I see you guys outside all hours of the day.” I smiled slightly at him.

He grinned, “She’s twelve, going on sixteen, I think.”

I chuckled softly, “I remember being twelve. Special age. She seems sweet from what I can tell.” I looked through the dining area to see Sarah sprawled on the sofa like she had been in my house dozens of times.

Joel followed my eyeline and clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Sarah Miller, God’s sake get your feet off of her sofa.”

“She’s fine.” I laughed, as I watched Sarah reluctantly settle back into her lying position on the sofa, “Houses are meant to be lived in.”

He softened considerably and let his gaze fall back to the cutting board as I chopped a head of lettuce into small pieces, “Sorry about her.”

“She’s a kid, Joel.”

He nodded in response before turning his attention back to me, “What do you do?”

“Front desk for the police department. Busy job, but luckily I got a normal 9-5, Monday to Friday.”

He nodded, pursing his lips carefully, “Real important stuff.”

I nodded back as I scraped the salad ingredients into a serving bowl as the oven timer went off, “I got it, don’t worry.” Joel jumped into action, grabbing the oven mitts from the counter and moving behind me to take the baking sheet out of the appliance.

“Oh, thank you, Joel.” I went to the dining table to set the serving bowl in the center before returning to the kitchen to grab a cup for Sarah, wine glasses for Joel and I. “Is white wine okay?” I went to turn back around to approach Joel and was met with a firm surface. I gasped in surprise as he grabbed my elbow to steady me.

“I’m so sorry.” he apologized, stepping back and dropping his hand.

“No, no. I wasn’t paying attention. Not used to having people in my kitchen.”

He huffed a laugh and rubbed at the back of his neck, “White wine is fine,” he answered my previous question before continuing with his thought, “I understand that, it’s usually just Tommy coming over and wrecking my house. Sarah is better than he is.”

“Your brother?” I asked, before realizing he never told me that bit of information, I quickly stammered to save myself, “Carol told me a bit about you.”

He let out a tentative laugh, “Yeah, Tommy’s my brother, and Carol is a busybody. You stay away from her.”

“She has all the good gossip, though.” I laughed as I grabbed three plates and the bottle of cheap wine that had been chilling in the fridge.

“She has all the gossip because she can’t mind her own business. I’m convinced that woman’s flower garden is a sham, she only keeps it to keep her ears and eyes on everyone.”

“A flower for every secret.” I giggled as Joel grabbed the plates from my right arm, and he started to set the table.

“A flower for every secret.” he repeated with a sly grin, not looking up as the plates settled on the wood surface with quiet tapping sounds.

I poured generous helpings of wine for Joel and I, and he called Sarah to the meal, preparing her plate for her before sitting down himself.

She hardly got a word in over dinner as Joel and I opened up to each other easily, only remarking how good the meal tasted.

It felt as if Joel and I had known each other longer than just the hour we spent eating and the passing remarks in our yards, we talked about neighborhood changes he’s noticed, his work, my work, Sarah’s school projects and sports events, and Tommy’s antics at neighborhood barbecues. It felt so natural, as if just catching up with an old friend. 

I grabbed ice cream from the freezer and brought the tray of brownies out for everybody to enjoy, which Sarah indulged in immediately.

“Your kid might have a future in baking.” I remarked with a raise of my eyebrows, “These came out really nice.”

“Thank you.” Sarah said with her mouth full of ice cream.

“She certainly didn’t get it from me.” Joel pointed at Sarah with his spoon before returning to his dessert.

Joel, of course, insisted on helping to wash the dishes after the meal finished, “I wanna thank you for letting us in like this. Definitely not expected of you or anything.”

“It’s nice to not have a silent house on a Thursday night.” I smiled down into the sudsy water, scrubbing gunk off of a plate.

“I owe you one.” he stopped drying a fork and turned his face to look at me.

I matched his stance, eyes finding his. Joel’s lips darted around my face, “You don’t owe me anything, Joel.” I stated, his brows furrowed slightly and he took the plate from my hand gently, running the clean, dry rag across the surface.

“I want to, though.” he sighed softly, “I’m grilling Saturday. Steaks, nothing fancy, but-”

“I’ll be there.” I cut him off, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

“Seven okay?” he asked as I resumed my scrubbing, cleaning out a wine glass slower than necessary. Drawing this moment out.

“Seven’s perfect.” I handed him the glass by the stem and his hand brushed mine as it transferred from my hand to his.

I studied his face carefully, a hot, fluttering feeling spreading through my stomach as I realized our proximity. How I could smell his cologne, see the flecks of gold in his eyes, and I swear he must have seen something in my face, too. Because he leaned in ever so slightly.

“Hey, Dad? I forgot to mention it, but Anna's birthday sleepover was tomorrow, and I forgot to tell you we needed to get her a present.” Sarah’s voice sent him reeling back, spinning around to face his tired-eyed daughter.

“Shit.” he looked at his watch, “Sarah, it’s eight-thirty at night, Sugar.”

“I’m sorry.” she looked between Joel and I apologetically.

“No, no, no. I should pay attention to the calendar more I guess.” he sighed, running a hand through his curls and he let out a flustered breath, “I gotta-”

“Go.” I smiled ear to ear, “I get it, Joel.” 

“Thanks.” he stuffed his hands in his back pockets and looked carefully between Sarah and me for a moment, “Go get in the truck, if I have to go to the store you’re comin’ with me, Kid.”

She didn’t answer, but hurried out the front door, Joel trailing behind her, “Thanks for the brownies, Sarah!” I called after her, and she didn’t answer.

“Thank you for dinner.” Joel nodded from the open doorway before he retreated to the now-dark street.

“Any time. I mean it.” I wiped my soap-covered hands on the drying rag as he slipped out of the house.

[bloodyhell-lucifer]

Accident | Tony Stark

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Few months ago you were attacked at night when you were going back home from a girls evening by a group of some men who tried to beat you down just because you were girlfriend of the one and only iron man. Tony on the right time got the signal by Jarvis that you are in danger and saved you. Now you want to go out with your friends again. It would be the first time since the accident and Tony is worried and being overprotective. Some way he got irritated by your behaviour.

Warnings: slight angst, reader being involved in an attack, language, fluff at the end

Notes: I had that idea in my head for so long so I decided that I’ll write something from it and there it is! My first Tony imagine. Tell me what you think and also follow me if you like my works, I’ll post more of it xx love you guys

You were on your way to Tony’s lab to announce him that you were leaving soon. Your friend invited you to her birthday party so you finally decided to move on and go. It’s been like six months since your last party that ended you being scared and frightened from going out from your home and elsewhere without Tony himself. That awful night you were going home alone because you’ve had an argument with Tony and you told him that he is not your babysitter and that you can handle going home without him especially driving late at night just to pick you home so you two can go back home together. You were fool yourself for not calling the cab to drive you because it was summer so you decided to take a walk. If you could you would like to forget that and remove that memory, but what’s done it’s done you thought. You should live forward. You tap the code to Tony’s lab and you saw him sitting back to you, in front of his computer, making some improvements to Jarvis. Tony was dressed casually, black jeans and dark green hoodie hugged his toned chest. He sense your presence without turning around checking who it is.

“Hi baby” he said turning back to you, a big smile on his face.

“Hi Tony” small smile appeared on your face as well. You came closer and you were standing in front of him.

“What’s on that beautiful mind of your babygirl? I see it in your eyes that something is bothering you” Tony placed his hands on your hips and urged you to sit down on his lap. You did as he pleased, your hands going around his neck so you could play with small hair on his neck.

“Y/F/N invited me to girls meet up and I think it’s right time to go out finally” you spoke avoiding his gaze, because you already knew he wasn’t going to like that idea and you were right from the start.

“You are not going anywhere. Not for know. You know how it ended the last time you went out when we argued.” His lips were in the firm line, brows clenched and visibly vein popped up on Tony’s forehead. He clenched his squeeze over your hips.

“I know that you are worried but I don’t wanna sit in this house forever, not be able to seeing my friends. You are not my father Tony.” You got up from his lap and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You know that friends could come over in anytime to see you. You don’t have to go out to actually see them.” He turned around in his seat and got back to his computer, starting to ignoring you.

“But I want to go, I know that, that night I was fucking stupid for not calling the cab and going home safely but know surely I won’t repeat that.” You insisted, getting irritated.

“For fuck’s sake Y/N! You ain’t going anywhere and that’s the end of the conversation. I don’t fuckin’ like the idea of you going to your friend’s house to girls meeting and at the end of the day suddenly nobody wants to drive you home or take care of you when they sure know that we had a argument but on the other hand even when we are fighting with each other, on every day and every hour you can call me and I will come and get you home because that’s what I’ll do to keep you safe and it doesn’t depends on our little fights.” He yelled, his fist coming in contact with the table, face turning red. You flinched because of the sudden movement he did. He faced you again and now he was so close to you that he was towering over you and you could smell his perfumes.

“I want to have fun again. I was and I still am a little frightened because of what happened but I won’t move forward sitting in this house forever. I know that you are worried and being protective but I want my life back. I’m siting here for over six months and I want to know the world again.” You sighed, looking at your feet because Tony’s gaze was to intimidating to look him into the eyes.

“You accidentally survived. I don’t want to lose you to some pricks coming after you because they don’t like me. To that day I’m blaming myself because I was a fuckin’ idiot for not coming for you and driving you back home. It could’ve end so much worse then it did Y/N. I love you and I’m not ready to lose you.” He grabbed you by your waist with firm grip and you decided to look at him. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were looking into yours with serious doubt. On his forehead appeared a few wrinkles.

“I’ll stay. I don’t want you to be worried and stressed because of me. I’ am so pathetic. I don’t want to cause you any problems.” You placed your left hand on his cheek, feeling his light stubble under your palm.

“You don’t cause any problems, doll and I’am so fuckin sure you’re not pathetic. You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever known and od course beautiful as hell and mine as well” Tony’s grip tightened on your hips and know he was smiling to you like a child that received its favourite toy. His hands came to your checks, squeezing them lightly. “Look at me darling. I love you and I’ll protect you, no matter what” His gaze was so pure and on the other hand confident that his eyes were like saying its truth on their own, no words needed.

“I love you too and I’m sorry.” You grabbed him by his neck and let him hug you. Tony’s hands come tightly on your back, bringing you closer to him so he could put his chin on your head.

“I don’t even know now why I was so mad at you on the other evening. You’re walking cuteness and goddess in one. I can’t be mad at you for long.” The man said, placing a delicate kiss on your head.

“Guess there is two of us.” you laughed softly, hugged him tighter and making Tony laugh a little as well.

“We’ll do this. I’ll drive you to that house where you girls have meeting. Then you’ll call me later and I’ll pick you up and we will get home together. What about that?” He asked, looking at you.

“Oh are you sure? I mean I can stay, really.” you said disbelieving that what he said seconds ago.

“I’m sure. You are right that I can’t imprisoning you in that house. You should live your life and have fun, but in the safe way. I know you would do the same for me.” He wrapped one arm around you, leading to the exit of his lab.

“Of course I would” you were shocked of sudden change of Tony’s mind.

“Now go get dressed, put on some make up, all that all girls shit and I’ll Waite for you in the garage and I’ll drive you there” He opened the door for you, leering you go first.

“I love you. Seriously. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You added, grabbing him by his neck connecting your lips in a needy kiss. His hands immediately went to your hair, tugging them slowly, making your whimper. The kiss was rough, but also loving.

“See you in couple minutes” Tony said, winking to you, admiring your flesh.

He was the man of your dreams and you wouldn’t do anything to broke his trust, even if it meant staying a bit longer at home. You loved him and you would do anything to make him happy and feel loved.

[spencerspecifics]

HI HI HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MOREID AT PRIDE AND SOME PINING AND SPENCER THINKS DEREK IS STRAIGHT BUT HE ISN'T AND THEY KIIIITTTTTHHHHH

I absolutely love your energy fuck yes!! I’m so sorry this took forever, ive got school, work and some other personal things happening so I appreciate your patience!

No TW, B u t, a creep hits on Spencer at pride, so if that is upsetting please note that! Thanks :)

———————————————————————

Pride

———————————————————————

Garcia had been pestering Spencer about going to pride for the past week now, and it was slowly driving him insane.

He used almost every excuse he could think of. When he first turned her down, he had simply said, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy that week.” And of course, Garcia being Garcia, she stole his calendar to see what he was busy with (spoiler alert: he had nothing. Except a reminder to go grocery shopping, and email some professors and research scientists back).

So, she persisted, and he came up with a dozen more excuses; “I was considering flying out to see my mom”, “The local museum has a new interactive archeology exhibit for adults, and I want to learn more about ancient structures”, “I have to do a presentation on thermodynamics”.

None of those excuses work, as she sniffed out every lie, “Spencer, you hate flying to Vegas last minute, that archaeology exhibit has been open for months, and your calendar is empty!”

So with her persistence, and legitimate bullying, Spencer found himself finally agreeing. “Fine, but come over to my apartment before we leave so you can help me.” After all, he wasn’t really familiar with pride parades, and what the scene was like there. He was going to be a fish out of water, he already knew that for certain.

~

True to her word, Garcia showed up an hour before the pride parade was set to start, carrying a coffee in each hand- how she possibly knocked on his apartment door, Spencer didn’t know.

“I brought you a pick me up, that way you have no excuse to be in a bad mood!” She spoke in her signature sing song voice as Spencer let her inside, she barreled in like a hurricane. God, Spencer wasn’t ready for this.

“Thanks..” Spencer decided to reply with that lame response, and not with what he was actually thinking. He took the coffee from her wordlessly as she stepped in further, going to sit down on his couch.

“You excited?” Garcia asked as she set her cup down on his cluttered coffee table. Reid just shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t do great with crowds.”

“But you do great with disarming murderers?” “You know that’s different-” Spencer said, doing his best to argue, “Reid it is literally not. Both are anxiety inducing, but one is life or death, and it’s not pride. So you can do this.”

Spencer sighed, resigning himself to not arguing with Garcia. Because she was right, though at times her arguments sounded wild. He just had to get over this anxiety and show up at pride, he could do this, right?

~

Wrong. So, very, wrong. They had left his apartment with thirty minutes to spare, deciding to walk over to where pride was being held- as it was only a few blocks away in a public park.

And as soon as they got there, Spencer wanted out. There were so many people, more than he estimated (and his estimations were usually spot on.), and there was just chaos everywhere. Music, dancing, shouting, singing, drag queens running around happily. Spencer wasn’t sure what to do. He was out of his element.

Garcia seemed to sense that, though, as she dragged Spencer over to some stalls that sold pride flags, pins, and other miscellaneous pride related things.

“C’mon Reid, why don’t you look around and find something you like?” She offered up, something for him to do- something for him to stay busy with. He could do that. Spencer nodded simply, Garcia stayed by his side- looking at pride related wear for herself.

~

Spencer ended up deciding on a small pin that simply said; “love all”, planning to stick it on his messenger bag strap. Garcia bought a pin as well, but hers just had her pronouns on them; “she/her/hers”.

Looking at all the pride apparel was a good distraction for Spencer, he felt a lot more calmer now- though that didn’t stop him from feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s just not familiar with this world, and it’s awkward to suddenly be in the middle of it.

Spencer was in the middle of looking at another booth that sold flags, possibly considering buying himself a small one to stick in his pencil cup at work, because Garcia left him to go compliment a drag queen- when a voice broke through.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

That was a voice all too familiar, what on earth was Morgan doing here? Spencer looked up at him as he made his way towards him. “Hey,” Spencer spoke awkwardly. Not sure what to say.

Spencer was gay. He was fine with admitting he was gay, but he hadn’t really told the team. He thought they figured it out on their own. And they probably had, but still, having his coworker see him at a pride event- it was anxiety inducing.

“What’re- what’re you doing here?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words as he dropped the small flag he was holding back onto the vendors table.

“Oh, well I’m on the local PFLAG committee. I’m just here to hand out flyers and stuff. But I’m glad to see you’re here, I’m guessing Garcia’s here too?” He asked Spencer casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Spencer.

He was on the PFLAG committee? Why? To help queer people, obviously, but that had to mean he was gay or something- Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with every possible answer to why Derek was on the committee.

Spencer just nodded in response, he moved himself back from the vendors table to get out of the way, so other customers could look at the flags being sold.

“Yeah, she’s- there.” Reid pointed her out, as if on cue she came out of the thick crowd that had started to gather back up, the parade portion of pride had concluded by now, and people were coming over to the vendors section.

“Hey, Babygirl!” Derek called over to her, and Garcia somehow lit up with a smile brighter than the one she was wearing before, “Well, hey!” She responded enthusiastically, walking up swiftly to give Derek a quick embrace, which he happily returned.

“I wasn’t sure how long you were staying for, but I’m glad I caught you!” Garcia started rambling to Derek, about how the drag queen she met was so nice; “Her name was Mysteria Hysteria. Isn’t that genius?”.

~

Spencer just stepped back from them both, not sure what to do, not sure if he fully belonged. Pride was a nice event, it was. But the longer he stood around, the more he felt like he should be leaving. Everyone was laughing and smiling, everyone was just happy. And Spencer couldn’t stop racking his brain. In the beginning, he couldn’t stop thinking because of his anxiety, but now he was searching his brain for a reason why Derek was here and what it meant.

Of course, a stupid large portion of Spencer’s mind went to “maybe Morgan likes men”, and then an even larger and stupider portion of his mind had the absurdity to think; “maybe he’s interested in me”. Which Spencer did not even want to remotely entertain, because if he fell down that rabbit hole, he’d never climb back out.

Because yes, he did like Derek. He liked him a lot, the start for his liking towards the man was innocuous enough- which is why it was a problem for Spencer. He didn’t realized he liked Morgan until it was too late. And now he had been battling these feelings for years. Spencer wasn’t ever going to act on them, he just had to live with them- which he had been doing, which he has been content with. But this new information, about Morgan being here, being part of PFLAG- it was going to make Reid’s mind implode in on itself.

~

Reid decided the best thing was to say; “I’m gonna get some water, I’ll be back.” To which Derek and Garcia both nodded to, and Spencer was off, away from the vendors stand and the only two people he knew at pride.

And while that was a good thing, it was simultaneously not so good. Because now he was alone, overwhelmed, and thinking too much. And now he had a task to do, find himself some water.

~

That task seemed to be more difficult than anticipated, as the prides layout was a confusing maze, spencer had to pass in front of a group of drag queens in order to get to the food trucks that were on site- but he eventually got there.

He walked up to the first food truck he saw, it didn’t matter what they sold, he wasn’t getting it.

“What can I get for you?” The cashier asked him, “Just a water, please.” He ordered, the cashier nodded and pulled a bottle out from a cooler that was nearby within the truck, handing it over to spencer as they told him his total, a dollar twenty five. Spencer paid quickly, stepping back and away from the food truck, as he wasn’t sure where else to go now. He didn’t want to go back towards Derek or Garcia, he honestly wanted to go home.

He just needed a minute, some space and time to breathe and relax. He was stressing himself out. And about what? Nothing of goddamn importance, just a stupid crush he had been living with for a while now.

~

Spencer had been leaning against the back the food truck for not long, only a couple of minutes as he was absorbed in thought as he fiddled with the cap on the water bottle.

He was doing his best to follow the grounding techniques he had learned, something to help him calm down, when suddenly- a stranger emerged out of the crowd.

“Hey there, handsome.” The man said confidently as he strode up to introduce himself Spencer. Spencer looked up to meet his eyes, the man in question was a fine looking guy, chiseled jawline, long shoulder length hair, a bit of facial stubble. He was handsome. “Hello,” Spencer answered hollowly in response. In an ordinary situation, he would try and seem more lively- but he wasn’t in a normal situation, not at all.

The anxiety of attending pride was stress enough on its own, but now knowing the guy he had been drooling over for years was here- and worked as a PFLAG volunteer? It was enough to make him lose his mind.

The man didn’t seem to notice Spencer’s empty response, however, as he answered suavely in response; “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the way. I’m Fabian,” Thankfully, the man- Fabian, didn’t stick his hand out for a handshake, instead casually pushing his hair back a bit.

“I’m Spencer,” Reid replied simply, knowing it was best to ride this odd social interaction out, rather than try and fight it. “That’s a lovely name,” Fabian complimented, “Is this your first time at pride, Spencer?” He asked him casually, taking a step forward, closer to Spencer. He was all too confident for Spencer, he too comfortable with invading Spencer’s space. If Spencer could’ve, he would’ve stepped back.

“Uh, yeah. My friend dragged me along.” Reid explained, twisting the bottle cap back onto his half empty water bottle. Fabian nodded, “Your boyfriend didn’t take you?” Fabian asked him. That was a leading question, Spencer had alarm bells ringing in his head the second he heard it. “No. He- um- he met up with us here.” Spencer replied unconvincingly, Fabian obviously did not believe a word he said.

“Well,” Fabian took another step forward, practically blocking Reid in against the back of the food truck, leaning in farther to whisper in Spencer’s ear; “I don’t see him around. So, why don’t you and I get out of here? Hm?”

Spencer wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to kick this guy in the crotch and just book it, but he wasn’t sure if his FBI status would protect him in this scenario. He wasn’t sure what could protect him in this scenario.

“Pretty boy! There you are!” A saving grace broke through, and suddenly Fabian was stepping back, and Morgan was walking up.

Thank god, thank fucking god, that’s all Spencer could manage to think as Derek came to stand beside him. “Hey, babe.” Spencer said, cringing at his voice, at what he just said. But that feeling only lasted for a moment as Fabian was still standing right there, staring them both down now.

Spencer could only throw his wish in the sky and hope Derek caught it coming down, ‘please catch along to why I’m calling you babe’ Reid was trying to say.

And Derek caught it, “Hey, baby, was worried about you. Who’s your friend?” He said in his smooth voice, a voice Spencer couldn’t forget. He especially couldn’t forget now, being called ‘baby’ was something Spencer especially could not forget.

“I’m Fabian, you’re Spencer’s boyfriend?” Fabian asked, as if them both calling each other ‘babe’ counted for nothing. “Yeah, I’m Derek.” Morgan responded simply, sliding his hand around Spencer’s waist as if to prove a point. Fabian just nodded, looking between Spencer and Derek one last time before talking; “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ve gotta get going. See you.”

And then, he was off, fast walking away from Derek and Reid, escaping the terrible situation he had created. Fabian quickly disappeared into the thick crowd, and by then Spencer had his hand squeezing his water bottle all too tightly- as evident by the terrible crunch sound it made. He was too anxious to let go.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked him softly, pulling his hand away from Spencer’s waist. “Can we find somewhere else- can we go sit down?” Spencer asked him quickly. Reid didn’t want to talk about it right this second, right where it had happened. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave pride and never come back.

~

Derek didn’t ask a single follow up question as he led Reid away from the food trucks, taking him back towards the vendors stands, and then a bit further back, into the normal-not-so-pride-parade-filled park area. Somewhere less stressful, less scary.

“What did that guy want?” Derek asked Spencer casually as they made their way towards a bench that was sat under a large oak tree. Spencer didn’t speak right away, instead he waited until they were seated to start talking.

“He was trying to flirt, but then he wanted me to leave with him.” Spencer explained as he took a deep breath in, just being away from all the loud sounds and sights was helping him calm down. Derek rubbed Spencer’s back in slow, circular motions as Spencer kept talking.

“He was a classic example of a narcissistic personality, it just made me so uncomfortable- he invaded my space.”

“He was a creep, Reid. Simple as that,” Derek kept rubbing Spencer’s back slowly, Spencer nodded. “I know. Sorry, it shook me up.” Spencer attempted to apologized, and Derek was immediately having none of that.

“Reid, no. Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare. He was a creep, I’m sorry you got caught up with him. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. We can stay here until you feel up to going back, or we can leave. But I’m not leaving you.”

~

And so they sat for a good amount of time on that park bench, at one point Derek stopped rubbing Spencer’s back, instead just keeping his arm stretched out against the back of the bench and against Spencer’s back. Spencer loved it, but he knew if he thought about it for too long he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking. That was his biggest problem, he couldn’t stop thinking.

He had to know, he decided, he couldn’t just wonder why Derek was on the committee for PFLAG. He wanted to know, he had to.

“Derek?” He spoke up softly, sounds of laughing and shouting and music were still heard in the distance, but they were safe from the sounds under the tree. “Mhm?” Derek hummed in response, looking up at the aforementioned tree that was providing shade for them.

His eyes were tracing the way the branches curved and bent around each other, it was something he did to pass the time. Spencer thought he was extraordinary for it, Derek loved to see where things went; he was curious- after all these years, and all the bad they had seen together, Derek still loved to search and find the beauty.

“Why are you on the PFLAG committee ?” Spencer asked him, it was thankfully an innocuous enough ask to not draw too much of Derek profilings side out to pry apart his question. Derek shrugged, and was quiet for a second before responding, “I know what it’s like to be a scared kid, unsure of his identity. If I can help someone through that, that’s all that matters. Same reason I’m in the BAU, to help people.”

Spencer stayed quiet, Derek’s reason was so sincere and so sweet and kind- and only driving him to think further. Was Derek still unsure of his identity? Was he an ally? Why did he have to make Spencer swoon so hard without even trying?

“So, you’re just an ally?” Spencer approached Derek carefully with that question, not wanting to impose or be rude- but just feign simple curiosity, praying Derek wasn’t using his profiling skills right now to decode Spencer’s fake motive.

Derek didn’t notice, thankfully, as he chuckled lowly in response; “No, pretty boy, I’m bisexual. I don’t really tell the team, but it’s not confidential information. Plus, Garcia found Grindr on my phone. Can’t hide anything from that girl.”

Spencer nodded, mumbling something in response about how Garcia had hacked his email to make sure he was free for pride. And then, the two fell into silence again. But it didn’t last for long, because Derek wanted to know just as much, why was Spencer here?

“What about you, Reid?” Derek asked him cautiously, the way you approach a puppy you find on the side of the road. Calm and slow, trying to get him to trust him bit by bit. “What about me?” Spencer asked, not wanting to answer anything about himself unless Derek was specific.

“Are you an ally?” Morgan asked him, leaving the question open ended. Spencer could say as little or as much as he wanted. This is how you get him to open up, Derek knew that for a fact. “Um.. yeah, I mean- who isn’t? I just- I have to be. I’m.. gay.” Spencer admitted all too awkwardly, not at all in a normal fashion. But nothing about Spencer was in normal fashion.

Derek nodded slowly, not responding as he stared back up, tracing his eyes over the tree branches yet again.

~

A few hours had passed, Spencer and Derek eventually left their peaceful bench under the large oak tree, and instead moved back towards the parking lot.

“Garcia’s got a ride home already- I think she got that drag queen to get her home.” Derek explained as they approached his truck, Spencer nodded as he followed Derek. “Anyways,” Derek continued speaking, “I can give you a ride home. Let’s get going.”

“You don’t have to-“ Spencer started, Derek immediately shut him down. “I want to, c’mon. It’s late, you’re tired. I know you are. Let me take you home.” Spencer just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t argue with Derek, even if he did try. Morgan was a stubborn man.

So, Spencer followed Derek into his truck, and they sat in comfortable silence as they started on their journey back to Spencer’s safe space, his apartment.

~

By the time Derek pulled his truck into the apartments parking lot, Spencer knew something was just the slightest bit wrong. Derek had barely spoken for the entire ride, and usually he loves to say something, to make Spencer smile or laugh, or even just nod and mumble in agreement. But he had done none of that on the way to Spencers.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, turning to face Derek as he put the vehicle in park. Derek didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the steering wheel instead as he spoke; “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Spencer pried, absentmindedly unbuckling his seatbelt as he spoke, “About today.” Derek said, not explaining further. “Was today bad?”

Derek shook his head, “No. It started weird, it’s ending pretty good, though. But I’m gonna regret today forever if I don’t do something right now.”

Now, Spencer was confused. Not sure at all what Derek could be talking about, “What do you mean?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

Derek said nothing as he unbuckled his own seatbelt, turning to face Spencer as well, and then he leaned in- closer than they had ever been before. Their noses were almost touching, and Spencer didn’t move. Instead, he watched Derek’s eyes expectantly.

Then, Derek broke through, they were no longer intersecting each other’s personal space- now they were fully destroying each other’s atmospheres. Derek’s lips were on Spencer’s, a chaste, soft, quick kiss- something Spencer would have wanted to go for a lot longer. But then, he pulled away just as fast.

“...That’s what I meant..” He mumbled after a second, looking back towards the steering wheel, looking away from Spencer- and more importantly, not seeing the smile on Spencer’s face.

Spencer couldn’t help it. He knew it was terrible to be smiling right now- he should jump and say something to fix what was happening. But he had to smile, he couldn’t believe that had actually just happened, his brain was still computing and re-circuiting, trying to savor the memory and not forget how Derek’s lips felt against his.

Spencer dragged himself out of his own head quickly, though. He did all he could think of to do in the moment, get Derek back. “Morgan.” Spencer said, tugging on Derek’s sleeve as he did so, forcing him to look back at Spencer and meet his eyes again.

But Spencer didn’t say anything, and he didn’t give Derek the chance to speak, either. Instead, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s. This is all he had wanted to know for the longest time, and now he had it.

~

Maybe pride wasn’t so bad after all, you just have to be with the right people for it to work out.

———————————————————————

[togglesbloggle]

How We Decided

The day after tomorrow- that is, February 18, 2021- the Perseverance rover will attempt to land on the surface of Mars.  It will enter the planetary atmosphere at an acute angle, giving it as much time as possible to experience drag and slow down from orbital velocities.  Because Mars’ air is so thin, and the rover is so heavy, this will fail- in the best case, Perseverance would still be going almost a thousand miles an hour when it impacts the surface.  To help save itself, the craft will deploy a parachute of advanced design, seventy feet across and able to withstand supersonic velocities.  This, too, will fail.  Even with a parachute, there is simply not enough air between Perseverance and the Martian surface to slow it down all the way.  So this is where the rockets kick in.  Once air resistance slows the rover to a bit less than two hundred miles per hour, the heavy heat shield will be jettisoned, and a system of secondary rockets will fire against the direction of motion until it slows to near-hovering.  In a final flourish, the rover will descend from the rocket-boosted frame on coiled springs, until it touches down in the western part of Jezero crater in the northern hemisphere of Mars.

As it happens, Perseverance’s destination was one of the very last things we decided about it- not until the craft itself was fairly thoroughly engineered and designed.  Formally, the decision was made by the mission directorate.  In practice, they follow the consensus of the scientific community, which in turn hashes things out at a series of open-invitation workshops.  Things began with a call for white papers- an open suggestion box, basically.  In 2015, the first workshop narrowed things down from thirty serious proposals to eight candidates.  In 2017, the second workshop further winnowed the list down to three.  And in October of 2018, after three days of presentation, debate, and discussion, the final workshop selected Jezero Crater from these final three candidates using a simple vote of all attendees, and passed on the recommendation to the mission leads.

I haven’t been in the business for very long, so the final workshop was the only one of these where I actually participated.  It wasn’t a close vote as such, and I didn’t break any ties, and technically we were just making a strongly worded suggestion.  Nonetheless, my vote is one of the reasons why the Rover will be going to Jezero Crater instead of Syrtis Major or Gusev, and I think I’m entitled to feel ownership of this mission choice, just a little bit.

(This is, of course, terrifying.)

Having gone through the experience, there were a few surprises worth noting.  The first was how small some of the numbers are here.  The conference was not very large: only thirty proposals, debated by just a few hundred attendees.  I’ve seen book review contests with more entries, and that are read by a wider audience.  Which is to say, this is a situation that was, and is, extremely responsive to individual effort.  In that small a room, populated by people that are philosophically committed to changing their minds when they see good evidence or a good argument, one person can stand up and change the future in a very real way.

The second surprise was the attendance requirements.  Or rather, the lack thereof.  The project is public, paid for by American taxpayers, to whom I am profoundly grateful.  And one way the process reflected that public-spiritedness is that this is not a walled garden.  A small attendance fee (iirc, $40?), and you’re in.  You get a vote, if you want to use it.  A few non-scientists even took us up on this; there’s one retiree (a former schoolteacher, I think) that’s attended every major conference I’ve been to in the last few years, and sets up a small table in the back with his home mineral collection just for fun.  In practice this open-door policy is limited by the obscurity of the event itself; if you don’t move in research circles, you have to be something of a space exploration superfan to hear about it.  Still, as symbols go, you could do worse.

And now that we’re coming up on the day itself, the same kind of public-facing mindset is making me think about why I was persuaded to vote for Jezero Crater, what it means to explore there, and how I’d justify that choice to those of you that made the ongoing discovery of Mars possible in the first place.

If you want to know what Perseverance is like, and what you can reasonably do with it, start with Curiosity- the two are built, more or less, on the same chassis.  That means you have a mobile science lab about the size of a Volkswagon Beetle.  Add some mechanical improvements (no more wheel punctures!) and a few bells and whistles (microphone!  helicopter for some reason!).  Trade out some of the scientific instruments- raman spectroscopy instead of a mass spectrometer, for example.  And it’s got these:

That, dear reader, is a sample return canister.  Not to be returned immediately, alas, but to be returned nonetheless.  One of Persevereance’s primary directives is to find interesting rocks, collect them, and leave them in place for a sample return mission in the early 30s.  There’s a ton of work we can do in situ, but there’s even more we can do in a clean lab back home; things like isotopic analysis really need a much more controlled environment than you’ll get in the field.  And so a major, major consideration is to optimize Perseverance’s landing site for cool rocks that we’d like to take back home.

The other thing that Perseverance is really good at is astrobiology.  There’s no such thing as a life sign detector as such, but this rover represents an attempt to approach that ideal: instruments like SHERLOC and SuperCam are adept at finding organic compounds and fine-scale mineralogy and chemistry that might be influenced by microbial metabolism.  This is a natural extension of what we’ve been learning so far: Spirit and Opportunity showed us that Mars formed under the influence of liquid water.  Curiosity showed us that this was not just wet, but actively habitable: lakes and rivers at a neutral pH under a rich and temperate atmosphere.  The next question along this line is the hardest, and the scariest: we know it was habitable, but was it inhabited?

If you’re like me, that question makes you feel weird.  Collecting rocks is one thing, but a fossil?  The mind rebels.  We’ve spent the last two generations of space exploration tempering our expectations, reminding ourselves that the other worlds in our solar system are largely barren and dead, learning again and again how precious life is in the cosmos.  It’s hard to get in the mindset of people back in the 40s and 50s who could, somewhat reasonably, imagine that Mars might not just host life but multicellular life, vegetation and robust macroscopic ecosystems.  We look back at the science fiction of the era, swarthy soldiers hopping from planet to planet in silver rockets, and laugh at the naivete.  A smile at the exuberance of youth, if we’re feeling generous.  When we were first beginning, we may have imagined ancient canals on Mars and crystal cities on Venus, but that was when space was a blank canvas for us to paint our fantasies.  We’ve learned so much since then, and if it was less fun, at least it was true.  We did the hard thing and accepted reality over fantasy.  We accept that extraterrestrial environments are hostile to life- cratered, silent, and still.  We’re grownups now.

Unless…

Unless.

Imagine that we were born just a bit earlier.  Say, three and a half billion years or so.  We raise our telescopes to the sky, and we see a sister-planet.  Not red, but white and blue, with an atmosphere full of clouds and multiple large bodies of water scattered across its surface, prominent ice caps and snow-capped highlands, rivers tracing their way down to the lowlands in the north.  (Maybe the water is all under the ice, not open to the air at the surface; maybe the liquid pools are small and limited to craters, not feeding a large ocean.)  Sober scientists might have suggested we shouldn’t get our hopes up too much- after all, the gravity is much lower, there’s no tectonic recycling, and there’s no protective magnetosphere.  But is sterility really the default assumption we should be making here?  Is ‘we are alone in the cosmos’ really the most sane conclusion to draw from this situation?  Is it not worth, perhaps, sending a rover to go see?

We’ve adapted our sensibilities to a dead solar system because in the moment we’re looking, it kind of is.  We’re hopeful for the icy moons- and the evidence keeps mounting there as well- but the terrestrial planets are a grim reminder of the fragility and contingency of our own world.  The thing is, the more we learn, the more we discover that we’re a bit late to a very, very interesting party.  Venus is a hellscape, but it probably didn’t start that way.  Mars is a desert, but once it was an oasis.  What makes Earth special among the terrestrial worlds isn’t that it developed a temperate climate, but that it kept a temperate climate for more than four billion years.  Stability, not habitability, is the party trick that makes us unique in the solar system.  And if we’re really committed to being grownups, to accepting what’s real instead of what’s easy, we have to learn that lesson too.

And life does not need four billion years to begin.  Not even close.

That brings us to Jezero Crater.  The most interesting feature here is a large river delta- based on some clever geology, we’re pretty sure that a large river emptied into the crater during Mars’ wet period.  When the rapidly-flowing water hit the still water of Lake Jezero, the loose sediments being carried along the current all fell out of suspension at this place, forming a large pile of detritus at the mouth of the river that accumulated over the lifetime of the system.  Even more interesting, check out this geologic map:

See those tiny teal deposits to the right side of the image?  Those are also river delta deposits.  Which means the thing labeled ‘delta’ on this map isn’t the original extent- it used to be much, much larger, at least twice as wide.  Which also means that the outer edge of the ‘delta’ that we see here in this image is actually an erosional surface, and we get a natural cross-section of the thing with the oldest deposits at the bottom and the youngest at the top, just before Mars lost its hydrosphere.  By climbing the outer edge, we can move through time across a large fraction of the habitable period.

Here’s another image I’d like you to see:

The crater I’ve been showing you is the small circle in the lower right- color is elevation, covering a span of about 5 km.  The black line is the watershed of that river, the region of Mars that channeled water to the delta.  In other words, the river delta collects sediments- and potentially, biosignatures- from a region hundreds of kilometers in diameter, and gathers them all in one place, neatly sorted by time.

For this reason, ancient deltas on Earth are a favorite of paleontologists.  In addition to being comfortably wet and active itself- plenty of access to biologically important nutrients, fresh supplies of liquid water, and a nice dynamic environment- deltas do the legwork for us.  Rather than exploring a huge fraction of the planet with a tiny rover, hoping that we stumble upon an ancient life sign, we can position ourselves at the mouth of the proverbial fire hose and let life come to us.

This does come with some tradeoffs.  Most importantly, whatever we find, we won’t know the original geologic setting.  If we find an unambiguous fossil of some kind- a microbial mat, perhaps- then we’ll know less than if we’d found it in its original home.  And if we don’t find life, then the samples we take will be similarly uncertain.  They’ll be defined in time, at least relative to one another, but not in space.  In the case of life signs, this is an important caveat, but the bare fact of proving that extraterrestrial life exists is sufficiently monumental that it’s still a secondary concern.  But if we’re just talking about geology, that’s a hard thing to lose; that terrifying multi-stage descent isn’t the only risk we’re taking.  We’re leaning into the astrobiology mission hard with this one.

And the search for life is, in itself, fraught.  That’s putting it mildly.  There’s every chance that any evidence that’s even slightly marginal is going to touch off decades of debate, rather than being some kind of slam-dunk.  As it should!  Life is such a fuzzy concept, and such an important concept, that it should absolutely be held to the highest degree of scrutiny we can muster.  This is why it matters that Perseverance includes sample return- in the highly likely case that the findings are disputed, we’ll hopefully have the chance to subject those samples to the highest degrees of scrutiny.  So it feels like the right time to go hunting.

On top of that, there’s the ‘evidence of absence’ problem.  Strong biosignatures update our priors very hard in the direction of life on Mars.  But what is the correct amount of evidence necessary to convince us that Mars never was alive?  I’m not sure, but failure to find microbial mats in Jezero probably isn’t enough.  So the search for life can succeed, but if it ‘fails’ that doesn’t necessarily teach us much; the best experiments teach you something no matter what, and ideally a commitment this large would meet that standard.  This is, more or less, baked into the search for extraterrestrial life, and there aren’t too many ways out from under that problem.

That said, Jezero in particular has some compensation.  As I mentioned, we’re collecting a lot of good data regardless; and even without the gologic context, there’s a ton of opportunity to sample different minerals and how they formed, and get a nice broad sample of the Martian surface over time.  And, even better, here’s the location of another interesting potential field site, in northeast Syrtis:

Note the proximity to Jezero crater!  And Syrtis is also a fantastic candidate for a sample return mission.  It has exposed mesas with layered outcrops going all the way back to the earliest days of Mars, and extending (potentially) through many of the most interesting periods.  Now, these are not ideal for the search for life, although they’d give us a ton of technical data about surface chemistry and the behavior of the atmosphere during the early, wet periods; it would go a long way towards resolving arguments about the temperature of the early Martian climate, for example, or tracing the early destabilization and loss of the magnetosphere while teaching us loads about the planet’s core.

Those mesas are still pretty far away.  Too far, probably, for a sensible rover lifespan to make it all the way there.  But there’s a plan- called the ‘Midway’ route, as a nod to the compromise nature of it.  See, halfway between Jezero and these mesas, there are a lot of banded rocks that look suspiciously like they’re sourced from the table mesas in Syrtis.  And those, we can get to, maybe.  If we call a specific deadline on looking for life in Jezero, then we can pivot to Midway and hopefully take a really deep look.  So, in the end, we’re going hard for astrobiology research, but we’re not going all-in.

The importance of the search for life is… well, there are a lot of people out there, and we enter the world in a lot of different ways.  Most of us agree that the existence of extraterrestrial life would be a Big Deal, and we tend to have a lot of different reasons for that.  It’s not a bad subject for a future post or three, in fact.  But there’s one thing lurking in the back of my head that’s a non-obvious reason to go looking.  This wasn’t discussed at the workshop particularly, but it fed into my vote somewhat.  Check the logic of this for me, see if it makes sense:

Worrying about existential risks, we sometimes talk about the ‘great filter’.  That is, the mysterious phenomenon which explains the lack of extraterrestrial civilizations reaching out to us.  Now, maybe we’re in a zoo or a preserve or something, and intelligences are out there watching after all; maybe the Earth really is the center of the cosmos, because of the simulation hypothesis or the various religious explanations.  There’s no real way to know for sure at this point.  But consider the space of very real possibilities where the universe actually is material, and actually is mostly barren.  Why?

Stepping through the sequence, it might be that abiogenesis is really hard- going from a temperate world to a living one is almost (but not quite) impossible.  Maybe there’s some hurdle to clear between genesis and encephalization.  Maybe, given encephalization, civilization and tool-use are almost impossible.  Or maybe there are many civilizations like ours, and the great filter is ahead of us- it is almost impossible for technological civilizations not to self-destruct or turn in to lotus-eaters before they reach interstellar civilization.  There are a lot of possibilities for the filter, and for present purposes we’ll divide them into two categories: those which we would have already passed, and those which are in our future.

And here’s the thing: for each possibility we can exclude from the great filter, all the other possibilities increase commensurately, becoming more likely in our estimation.  (Assuming the exclusion is ‘clean’ and doesn’t favor some other possibility, that is.)  Given that the silence continues, if we could somehow prove that technological self-destruction isn’t a big risk, that would commensurately increase our guesses about how hard abiogenesis is.

Life on Mars, especially if we could be very sure that it evolved independently of Earth life, would be a strong argument against the difficulty of abiogenesis.  One biosphere in the solar system, and nowhere else, might be down to luck.  The one biosphere has to be somewhere, right?  Two in the solar system, and nowhere else, is a good bit less reasonable.  If we find a second genesis on Mars, then we’ve learned that life is not rare.  That the hundreds of billions of stars in the Milky Way are likely host to many billions of different living (or at least once-living) worlds.

And as wonderful as that news is, as much as it makes me so happy that I literally had to take a second to cry on my bed for a bit, it also makes the great silence much, much scarier.  Today, we can reassure ourselves by saying that life may be rare in the universe.  But what if it isn’t?  If the cosmos is full of life, but not full of thought, then…

If this is the case, we need to know.  We need to know as soon as possible, and we need to know it while we’re engaged in the great project of technological development and moral progress.  It’s easy to imagine that this particular mission is one that can be framed in purely positive terms- the joy of discovery, the vastness of truth, the love of how things might be.  But I do also have this sense of civilizational fragility, you know?  And understanding the risks that we face and the chances we’re taking- that’s not idle curiosity.  That’s genuinely urgent.

[tkapuckit]

wasted on you - matthew tkachuk

a/n: hiii so this is my first fic...my old blog had a few blurbs but thats about it. anyway, this fic was kind of brought on by an argument i had with a really close friend and it’s just a lot of rambling. i was in a big slump about it and find that writing helps me cope a little. this is a little bit of an enemies to lovers type story too. my writing style is a little different, its a lot of just monologue so that way you can imagine in your mind the location and actions, things like that. please please do not hesitate to send me feedback i really want to know what you think!! thanks for all the support on this new blog i really love my followers and all the support i get here on this site:)

morgan wallen- wasted on you

warnings: swearing, arguing

word count: 1.5k

You can tell by the way he was swaying back and forth as you looked at him through the peephole of your apartment. He was drunk.

“You realize what time it is? Why are you here? What do you want?” you say opening the door, contemplating even opening the door for him at all.

“Hello to you too baby.” He says leaning against your door frame.

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby.”

“yea but I know you like it, I see the way your breathing changes when I call you baby.”

“oh please give it a break.” You roll your eyes.

He walks into your apartment and pushes you out of the way so he can shut the door behind him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you push “why are you here its 2:30 in the morning. Forget where you lived?” you ask crossing your arms over your chest. Matthew leans on the table in your front hall, needing the support to stand up straight you assume.

“You always have to be so mean to me?” he laughed, licking his bottom lip.

“It’s easiest.”

“I love you.” He blurts out.

“What?” your eyes widen.

“I love you.” He slurs for a second time. There’s a moment of silence, only thing being heard is his fast breathing and your heart pounding in your chest. You say a silent prayer, hoping that he doesn’t hear it too. You look down at your hands, fingers fidgeting with your thumbnail.

“Go home.” You shake your head.

“I am home.” He motions around your apartment with both arms.

“You’re not. You don’t live here. You’re drunk.” You say still shaking your head trying to guide him back to the front door.

“I know.”

“Then go home.” You say rolling your eyes and sighing in defeat.

“I already told you y/n, you’re not listening to me. I am home.”

“Matthew-“

“You are home to me, baby.” He says looking down at his feet. You freeze. Your hand is still on his upper arm. You don’t know what to say. Could he really mean what he’s saying? Is he pulling some stupid prank, trying to pull a reaction out of you so that he can tell the boys and embarrass you later? Is he saying this because he’s drunk?

You take a deep breath, and he looks up at you. You see something flash in his eyes. Something you’ve never seen there before…hope. What happened to the big, tough, hockey player that you could not stand? This man standing in front of you, pouring his heart out into your hands, drunk, isn’t the Matthew you thought you knew. The one who you could barely stand being around, only seems to talk to you if it’s an insult that he makes sure your friends hear.

“go home Matthew. Get some sleep. Sober up.”

He closes his eyes and takes in a shaky breath. As he turns to leave you feel tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why he’s making you feel like this. Once he leaves and is halfway down the hallway, you open your door and call after him. He stops in his track immediately turning to face you. When you run up to him you stop yourself before you do anything. There are a few moments of silence before you kiss his cheek and whisper, “I know you’re drunk but I hope that you don’t forget what you said tonight, that you love me.” And with that you turn and head back into your apartment before you let the tears start to fall.

*

Screaming and arguing, the norm when Matthew was around.

“And after we had started to get along too… I was really starting to think that maybe you weren’t so terrible like I thought you were! And the fact that you told my friends, my friends Matthew, that you think I’m some stuck-up bitch, how fucking dare you!” you scream at him.

“I never intended for you to hear that-“

“Oh, so you didn’t want me to hear it but you never said you didn’t mean it….do you mean what you said Matthew? Is that really what you think about me?” you ask eerily calm.

“Oh my fucking god!! See, this is what I mean! Fuck, like if it doesn’t go your way you’ll freak out until someone finally agrees with you! And the only reason they agree with you is because they’re so done putting up with your shit!” he screams.

“You’re such an ass! Get the fuck out of my face I’m so sick of you! I can’t believe I ever thought that we could get along.” You shout, walking closer and closer to him, scaring him out of your apartment.

“Everything you said to me the other day. A waste it seems like. All this time we’ve spent together, all the money and the time just driving around trying to not hate each other as much as we do simply because our friends couldn’t take it anymore, an udder and complete waste, wasn’t it? Do you remember what you said to me the other night? Or were you too drunk?”

“you take that back right now you hear me?” he lowers his voice, pointing his finger at you.

“Oh I don’t owe you any sorries honey. None at all”

At that moment, Matthew aggressively grabs you. You let out a frightened gasp, not knowing what he’s going to do. He pushes you against your closed front door and kisses you hard. You audibly gasp into the kiss.

The kiss doesn’t last long because you push him away. “Oh fuck off. Don’t think that by doing that I’ll turn to mush in your arms I-“

Matthew reaches up and puts his hand on the side of your neck to pull you in for another heated kiss. This time you give up and kiss him back. You do melt into his arms. Maybe it wasn’t a hate for each other that you had, but your way of taking it out on yourself. You two were mirror images of each other and that’s why you could never seem to get along.

“I haven’t been a waste and you know that. We’re such a pain to one another, I get it. I’m such a pain in the ass, baby please, I hear it every day from randos walking past me down the street. And you’re not better if I’m being fucking honest.” You scoff. He pulls in a deep breath.

“Please, just hear me out.” He says looking down at you, so small below him. You nod, allowing him to continue.

“But I’m so attracted to you. And I do want to be with you, you have no fucking clue. We work together. In some way, we work so well. And you know that too. Because if we didn’t work, you wouldn’t have bothered sticking around to argue with me. You would’ve left, even though this is technically your apartment.” You let out a small laugh. You know he’s right. You hate when he’s right.

“You need me. Admit it.” He’s so close you can feel his hot breath on your cheek, not daring to look up at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said when I called you a bitch. I have my moments you know that.”

“You can’t just kiss me, apologize and think that’s going to work.” You reach for the door to try and leave. You didn’t know what else you could do. He grabs your wrist.

“I did mean what I said when I came by the other day. I don’t just throw that kind of stuff around.” He pleads.

“Then say it.” You blurt before you could stop yourself.

Matthew wasn’t expecting that. He thought you were about to walk out on him, leave him alone in your own apartment only to return later and him not be there. Now it was his turn to be confused.

“What?” he asks furrowing his brows watching your every movement, still holding on to your wrist.

You take a step closer to him, letting the door fall shut behind you now. You step closer to him so that your chest is almost touching his. You look up at his big frame standing above you and into his confused eyes.

“Say it again. Say what you said to me the other night.”

You see the confusion leave his eyes, knowing exactly what you meant now.

“I love you.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in. He reached out and ran his hand over your cheek.

“Say it again.” You breathe out, closing your eyes at the feeling of his hand so softly on your face.

“I love you. I love you.” He leans forward and kisses you. And kisses you. And kisses you. “I love you.” He says between kissing you.

“I love you too Matthew.” You smile into his lips.

You never wanted to leave his grasp ever. H was right, if you knew that it wasn’t right, you wouldn’t have kept trying.

[quirklessidiot]

Title: coward :: coming clean Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: You try to push him away from you but he isn’t taking any of it, the much long-awaited confrontation is there but you’re still finding a way out.

notes:

have yall seen the new season?? mY FUCKING HEART MAN NSNDNND it got me so stoked i literally wrote something about kita after that trailer skdjjdm kita is so underrated. I love him.

also, a huge thank you for the 200+ followers. Ma’am i literally only had this tumbler a month ago and im already celebrating a lot of milestones, hence i present you a more angsty chapter! I hope you’ll love it <3

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“You’re on gossip sites.” 

“Tsum-tsum, why are you so close to L/N-san? I thought you hated her.”

“Riku-chan’s calling me-”

“Everyone shut up.” The setter throws the ball on the ground, “It’s not what it fucking looked like.”

“Can we talk, ‘tsumu?” Osamu’s voice resonates the most and Miya Atsumu knows where this is going already by the sound of it.  He was surprised to see his brother come by today but when he sees why, he takes it back.

No wonder.

He follows him to the quieter side of the gym, he notices the tense air between them and he knows what's about to follow. He hopes that Osamu does this quickly, he has to practice well since he needs to impress those brats when the game comes up and try to let them have their eyes on him and not on Tobio and Shoyo.

“What the hell are you thinking?” His brother growls, “You have a fucking girlfriend. Y/N has kids and is very much in love with the dead guy who isn’t yo-”

“Why the fuck are you all getting up my ass when its about Y/N?” he suddenly cuts his brother off, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, “It's been that way since you met her eight years ago. Just tell me that you didn’t like her from the start. You didn’t like her because she was different.”

“I didn’t like her because she wasn’t good for you.” the grey-haired twin barked back in reply, “In case ya don’t remember, You were a fucking mess after she left, Atsumu. You were almost not able to make it into the jackals because of what she did!”

Osamu wasn’t calling him by his nickname anymore, it seemed that the weight of the situation was too serious for him.

“Well, I’m here now aren’t I?”

“And you’re getting involved with her again. Can’t you give it a fucking rest already?” 

“No.”

“Miya Atsumu.” He glowered, grabbing his brother by the collar of his jersey, “Don’t throw a good woman and your career away for someone like her.”

“I’m not throwing shit, ‘samu.” He hissed, slapping his hand away but before he could walk out, the younger twin grabs him and yanks him back, swinging a fist right at his face. The team members of the black jackals are immediately thrown into panic and chaos with what’s happening. Hinata and Bokuto grabs onto Osamu restraining him from damaging the setter even more while Shion and Meian hold back the blonde setter from throwing a punch, “Stop acting like a fuckin’ brat, ‘tsumu.” The twin yelled while Atsumu flipped him off with a middle finger, clearly showing no signs of restraint. 

Sakusa remains far from them and snorts underneath his breath, completely indifferent,  “Fuckin’ idiots.”

The twins end up at the infirmary right after, Atsumu lets out a heavy sigh as he recalls the feeling of his brothers fist. They’ve never fought this bad since high school and Osamu was never one to be triggered easily.

This just showed how grave the situation was.

A curtain separates them both as they lay on their separate beds, “You’re stupid, ‘tsumu.” Osamu calls out his twin as he lays on the bed of the infirmary, a patch on his forehead and a bandaged hand. Atsumu, on the other hand, has a busted lip and swollen cheek.

“I’m not fucking five, ‘samu and whatever you saw in that picture wasn’t what it looked like.”

“But you still love her very much.” 

Silence ensued between the pair and Osamu breaks it off with a long sigh, “Ya gonna be some scrub that chases after her again or something? Break off with your girlfriend right now who looks and acts better than her-”

“Stop.” Atsumu cuts his brother off, sitting up to open the curtain to face him head on, “so, so what if I still like her? So what if I want to break off with Riku and be with her and try to take that bastards place?”

“Yer outta your mind.”

“It’s my fuckin’ life.”

“It is but I’m not watching you throw yourself away for that woman.” Osamu paused, “Just what the fuck do you see in her? She feels nothing for ya, even when you dated-”

“Now that’s a fucking lie.” Atsumu defended you, eyes glowering right at his twin, “You didn’t see how Y/N would take care of me whenever we were alone. You don’t see how selfless she was most of the time and how she doesn’t expect me to be some character that everyone expects, shit,  you don’t even see how she’d patiently sit down and just listen me babble off about how bad my day was when I didn’t even know she was from a fucking bad family with a bad life back then!”

Atsumu is panting from that long explanation and he’s shaking because why couldn’t they see it? Why couldn’t they see how much you tried back then? How relationships were so out of your comfort zone but you force yourself to try it because he asked you too. He feels sick, he feels sick that they couldn’t see. That they could only see the tip of the iceberg.

“Yet she doesn’t feel the same for you.” Osamu points out,  “Not anymore. So stop clinging onto her with those past memories of yours and move on, ‘tsumu. Fuckin’ suck it up, life isn’t fair.”

“Nope, don’t wanna.”

“ ‘tsumu-”

“I-I’m breaking up with Riku. I want Y/N back in my life, I want her. I-I’ve never wanted anything so badly since volleyball, ‘samu. If I have to wait again, shit, I-I don’t fucking mind.”

Osamu sees the glint of conviction in his eyes and lets out another hefty sigh, god, he feels like he’s aging faster because of his twin, “I know you won’t listen to me.” he settled, he knew that if Atsumu wanted something, he wouldn’t stop until he got it, “Just know that I fucking told you so.”

You’re wary.

After that little stint your mother had pulled, she kept calling you and bothering you. It also didn’t help that you ended up on tabloids because someone had caught wind of that little moment you and Atsumu had. If it weren’t for your kids' over-excitement on Atsumu’s promise, you wouldn’t be here, “...Y/N-san? Are you alright?” Sugawara asks, tilting his head in curiosity as you enter the arena.

Some people seemed to have recognized you and the kids that you had to hold onto them tightly in case anyone did try to approach you.

“I’m good.” 

“Kaasan, kaasan, I saw a super big picture of Hinata-san!” Youta called out, pointing at a rather big banner of the orange-haired blocker.

“I think I saw Kageyama-san buying milk, can I follow him, kaasan?” Yuuto adds, blinking innocently as he looked at one of the stalls.

Sugawara is absolutely in awe by your calmness in this situation, he knows that you’re probably feeling far from alright after all those gossip articles came out. Atsumu, of course, tries to lessen your burden by letting out a public statement that you were his good friend back in college but it didn’t really help since someone tweeted a picture of the both of you back in college with the caption that you were exes.

“Could you do me a favor, Sugawara-san?” you turn to the man, “Do you mind switching seats with me? Stay with the boys in front while I just stay at your seat?”

“Sure but wouldn’t Atsumu be-”

“Please.” You frowned, giving your ticket to him, “I’ll take the kids right after the match.”

The boys looked at you in complete wonderment when you didn’t follow them to the front row. You maintained a good distance as the game started, the players being introduced on the big screen. Your eyes narrow when Atsumu gets out of the dugout and gazes at your kids in confusion then around the crowd as if he was looking for someone.

“Don’t be silly.What feelings would there be but hatred?”

“It’s anything but that, L/N-san.” 

You felt your fists clench as soon as the game started, you wanted to direct your focus to the game but Inunaki’s words kept bothering you and pestering you throughout the whole thing. Why did Atsumu like doing this to himself? Was this some sort of premonition? Were you going to have to tell him?

What if it ended up like your parents?

Would your kids end up like you?

Cold, untrusting, and anxious?

Would you end up like your mother?

A borderline alcoholic, desperate for a man’s love?

Would Atsumu wake up and realize one day that this was all a mistake and call you one too? Blaming you for every single bad thing in his life?

You held your doll tightly on your hands as you held your breath behind the pillar, you had just come home from Daiki’s house as you heard the loud voices of your parents arguing again. For the past years, it seemed to have worsened and you spent more time around your friend’s house rather than this cold and big empty place you called home.

“...are you doing? It's the middle of the day! Stop drinking!” you hear your father bellow.

“What’s it to you? Shouldn’t you be around with that young woman? That whore you proudly call your business associate?” 

You flinch as you hear those harsh words and the sound of a bottle breaking, it seemed like the argument was particularly bad today. You shakily make your way up to your room, wanting to avoid this ordeal and skip dinner but fate wasn’t on your side today. 

Despite your light footsteps, they seem to have noticed your presence.

Your father’s eyes soften just a bit while your mother’s remain cold. As much as possible, you grew up wanting to avoid those scary and expressionless eyes. At the young age of five, you feared your mother and loathed your father at the same time but that didn’t stop the fleeting feeling of wanting them to change. Wanting to feel the warmth and youth that every child craved for.

You suck in a deep breath, “I-I’m home, okaasan, otosan.”

“You’re always out these days, Y/N.” her voice is cold, far from the warmth that a mother should have.

“I-I was out with Daiki.”

“With that boy again?” a frown immediately paints her features, a small tsk under her breath to signal how disappointed she was of you yet again, “Aren’t you supposed to be studying? You said you wanted to skip a grade this year.”

“I-I am.” you replied, “B-but Daiki-”

“All you need to do is study and get good grades, Y/N.” she cuts you off, walking close to you, the smell of alcohol growing stronger, “Is that something too hard to do? Are you being ungrateful now?”

You turn to your father for help but he remains unmoved, was he really going to watch your mother do this to you? You hold onto your doll tightly, trying to control yourself. You shouldn’t cry, especially not in front of them. 

“N-No, okaasan…”

“Then why are you crying, Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you feel the wet substance flowing down. No, no-

“Answer me.” she repeats, you feel the tears flowing down faster, “Why are you crying, Y/N? Are you feeling ungrateful? Is that how it is-”

“(M/N) That’s enough!” Your father finally says but your mother continues to ignore your father.

“Don’t you think we should tell her that she shouldn’t feel sad?” she expressed, telling your father as if you weren’t standing there, “After all, we didn’t have her aborted, she should be grateful we let her live well with three meals a day and expensive clothes and belongings. Even if she was a mistake.”

You're shaking so hard at the moment, you didn’t like where this was going at all. Your father can’t respond to your mother’s blank tone, did he agree too? Were you, were you really just a mistake? Countless questions flooded your head as she walked close to you, her cold presence looming over you even more so today. With the same blank and expressionless tone, she says, "if you probably hadn't been born, we would've been happier. We'd have better lives, Y/N. So don't go around and cry and think you got it bad, you hear me? Your sadness is nothing compared to ours. It's nothing, Y/N. So stop being ungrateful."

You watch as the game comes to an end. You had zone out for the most part, the fleeting memory of your past and your anxiety bubbling up couldn’t keep you still. You texted Sugawara that you’d meet him and the boys at the front.

You were about to leave your seat when you saw the blonde approach the kids after the game, ruffling their hairs and pinching their cheeks with a huge smile. Why couldn’t you be as open as Atsumu? Why couldn’t you express yourself well? 

You shut your eyes tight and turn to the exit, right, you were a coward. You didn’t face things like this head-on, you ran from them because in all your life, the only thing you knew was fear from people you expected love from.

“Y/N…” 

You turn to find Atsumu standing there, still in his jersey and a towel hung on his shoulder like he had just ran out to chase you. Where was Sugawara and the kids? Why weren’t they here yet? What is he even doing here? You grab his wrist and immediately pull him towards a private area.

“Are you out of your mind? What are you doing? You have a girlfrie-”

“We broke up.” he cuts you off.

“W-what?” 

“We broke up.” He repeats, “I couldn’t stay with her anymore, Y/N.”

You clenched your fists, what was he even thinking? Wouldn’t the rumors worsen if he broke up with her now?

“I-I can’t let you go again.” Atsumu confessed, throwing all his pride out the window again for you because damn it all, you are worth it,  “I can’t keep pretending that I’ve moved on when I’m clearly hung up on you.”

“What are you doing?” You spat, anger slowly creeping in, all the pent up emotion towards him being released, “Why would you do that?”

Atsumu notices the change of emotion, you’re getting angry. It’s a complete contrast to what he was expecting, he’d expect the calm and cool exterior, even expected you to cooly reject him like the past but this, this was new, “Why can’t I?”

“Are you out of your mind?” You exclaimed, “I left you! I have kids from another man-”

“So?” He asks, walking closer to you. The familiar smell of perfume and sweat invaded your senses, something you were accustomed to when you were dating him back then. He traps you between the wall and him. You can see the busted lip, what happened to him? Did he got into a fight? You feel like your mind was turning blank by the sudden events. You want to say something, anything but he’s rendering you speechless again, “What if I tell you I don’t care? What if I tell you that I still feel the same even after all this time?”

“Y-You're insane...I-I’m in love with someone else-” you tried to lie but you remember this is Miya Atsumu, he doesn’t give two shits and was willing to work as hard as he could to get what he wanted.

“Y/N, your kids told me that the bastard left. Why didn’t you tell me?” he cuts you off, this time, his voice seemed disappointed and angry yet you didn't know if it was towards you.

“W-what would you have done then?”

“If you’d come back to me then,” he paused, voice turning soft, “I would’ve helped you. I would’ve been there to stand in as a father if you even needed one.”

You’re trembling at his confession, were those words really from the heart? 

“Y/N, I don’t know what happened between you and that guy.” he laughs, he didn’t expect it to be like this, that even after six years he’d still be pinning over the same woman who repeatedly broke his heart, “I don’t know what happened between you and your fucked-up family. All I do know is that I’m still in love with you and I’m willing to wait here until you’re ready. I won’t ever leave, Y/N. I-I don’t think I ever will.”

“You’re crazy.” You shakily point out, you’re in a fit of rage. You’re angry at him, you’re angry that he still lowers himself to you when he could do so much better, you’re angry that he still feels the same after all the shit you put him through, most of all, you’re angry at yourself because you couldn’t own up and tell him about everything.

Atsumu slowly holds up his hands, wanting to cup your cheeks but it is immediately swatted away. He notices that you’re trembling now, your facade, slowly crumbling.

“What made you think that I’d come back to you?” Your voice was trying to maintain it’s cold and emptiness tone yet your eyes showed the complete opposite, “Please be selfish for once, Miya-san. Just because you give your all to me, does not mean I’ll return it. I hope I really don’t see you again.”

taglist [taglists are sadly closed now, thanks guys <3]

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@misosamu  @Etherynaw  @ryaaaax @differentballooncollection @keniloveshaikyuu @allysasteaparty   @syzygymai [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

[thalys-artcorner]

A Cause to be Bothered By.

A oneshot in which Homelander actually gived a damn with the charity event assigned.  Canon divergent that allowed to write...wait for...actual fluff. Bet you didn’t see that coming.

*Note: I don’t wanna say @kayemagistro​ made me do it, but she did provide the initiative xD Based on this post.

She wasn’t sure how much of a good idea it might be to bring Homelander along, but the powers from above had insisted, and there was only so many strings she could pull before they put her back in her place. It was a miracle already that she had managed to pick her own charity work.

But having Homelander with her? For starters, he loathed charity work. It was a waste of his precious time, devoting attention to causes he did not care for nor did he even bother to look up. He hated the idea of taking care of others, he hated the cameras following, the million questions hurting his senses, and above all, he hated weakness. And wasn’t charity all about weakness? Of helping those not strong enough to make it out on their own?

If that wasn’t enough reason, he was in one of his moods that day. One fo those unstable, volatile, violent moods in which he might even turn around and bite his own leash off just to take it out on those around him, hate them and hurt them so he wouldn’t have to face the consequences of his own emotions. He’d even lashed out at her, not caring in the slightest for the fact that she loved him, forgetting that he loved back. Then again, she had been genetically manipulated so that his powers had no effect on her, just as her own had no effect on him. Not that any of that had ever stopped them from trying in the past.

But the media loved them together, probably because they got to see so little of their relationship. That was another of her personal little triumphs. She’d managed to keep Vought’s media team out of her own relationship after showing them that the public responded better to couples who weren’t flaunting their feelings about every single day. It made them more believable. What little the public got to see of Homelander as a boyfriend humanized him in their eyes (which she knew he hated, and it had taken a whole lot of convincing, fighting and angry sex to finally get it through his thick skull that they had to feed something to the masses). Hence, him coming along to the animal shelter with her, with that cold, shiny fake smile he’d been trained to put on his face like makeup whenever the cameras flashed in their direction.

At least, so far, he looked only irritated, which was a welcome cry far from the usual expression that looked like he was wondering whether if snapping some snotty brat’s arm “by accident” might wriggle him out of the event. Probably because he was not being pestered. She hadn’t chosen an animal shelter charity thinking that he would come along, but because she loved animals. Yet it was turning out to be a smart move. “At least you won’t have anyone asking you for autographs and pictures” she’d pointed out just before coming. She’d received a bad-tempered grunt in response, which was better than some snappy remark.

After the usual tedious talk with the owners of the shelter and the promise of a considerable donation and all those annoying displays that involved actual human contact and during which she was really fearing he might break the glass of water he was holding and throw a tantrum, there came the actual interaction with the actual animals. They were brought to a wide backyard in the center of the kennels, in which they were greeted by a hoard of enthusiastic puppies of all sizes and colors, that demanded pats and kisses and belly rubs. She immediately dropped to her knees and opened her arms wide, letting them jump all over her and whimper and place lots of sloppy, wet kisses on her face. She could almost here Homelander saying “I’m not coming anywhere near you covered in dog slobber”.

She looked around for him and noticed him closer to the kennels, his back leaning against one of the cages and his bad mood strong enough for the puppies to sense it and steer clear away from him, even if the humans did not. Suddenly, his nostrils flared, and he turned around, peering inside the kennel he had been leaning against moments before. She caught sight of a figure lurking on a far corner in the back, it’s beady eyes sad and resentful. She could the white of its teeth as its upper lip curled slightly in a snarl.

“Why is this one locked up?”

Homelander surprised everyone when he spoke up after being unusually quiet during the entire event. One of the caretakers of the shelter stepped forward at a prudent distance and cleared her throat “Oh, that’s one of the newbies, sir. He arrived some time ago, after they found him in a compound that raised puppies to become dog fighters in the pit. He’s been abused pretty roughly for one so young, and he’s very aggressive. We have to keep him locked for the moment, for his own safety and those of the other puppies. Sir”.

“It’s not his fault though, is it?”

“What was that, sir?”

Homelander made a gesture with his hand, brushing off the comment “Nothing”.

She hadn’t missed the whole exchange, but as it seemed he wasn’t going to add anything or elaborate, she returned her attention back to the puppies, smiling and asking questions about them, their stories, their health to the various caretakers, while the cameras buzzed around capturing the best moments of her interaction with them so that later, thousand upon thousands of celebrity sites and talk shows would replay them over and over again, sighing over the shadow heroine who took time off fighting crime to think about the well-being of the innocent creatures nobody else bothered to think about.

She was in the middle of answering a question about the animals she had had back in the farm, when there was a sudden exclamation of alarm from one of the caretakers.

“Sir, please, you can’t open that cage!”

Homelander, without anyone really noticing, had opened the door to the aggressive puppy’s cage, and was kneeling by threshold, looking inside at the snarling animal. She could see his lips moving, all though he was murmuring too softly for anyone else to hear. One of the caretakers stepped forward, and the hero immediately raised a hand in the air to stop her.

“Stay back” he ordered through gritted teeth, his jaw set, a small muscle twitching.

“But-”

“I told you to stay back”. His voice was hard and authoritarian. And it had that dangerous edge it had been carrying all day. Yet after a moment, his jaw relaxed ever so slightly, and he started murmuring to the dog inside the kennel again.

It was time to intervene.

She rose to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest “Everybody leave us for a moment, please. Take these little fellows too, if you would be so kind”.

For a second, nobody moved. She glared at the owner director of the shelter pointedly, a stare that allowed no argument and that she usually reserved for criminals. It worked, and everyone, including the camera crew, were soon hurrying out, picking up the puppies with them, until the backyard was completely clear, except for her, Homelander, and the puppy inside the kennel. Slowly, she approached them, until she was able to crouch beside him and gently rest a hand on his shoulder.

“John?” she called out now that they were alone.

He didn’t reply, still focused on the dog in front of them. It had stopped snarling, and was now standing a few steps away from them, its belly pressed to the ground as he slowly, warily, crawled towards Homelander’s extended gloved hand. Its black lips twitched from time to time, and its hair was standing on end, but he nonetheless drew closer, until his nose was only a few centimeters away from Homelander’s hand.

“Make way for him” the man whispered, as he too took a step to the side, clearing the doorway for the dog. It hesitated. And then, finally, stepped out onto the grass with unsure footsteps.

For a long moment, the puppy simply stood there, as if it could not quite believe it was outside, free, and nobody was stopping him or forcing him back to his cage. It looked like a mixed breed, something halfway between a Pitbull and a Rottweiler. How stereotypical. It blinked under the sunlight, and then, finally, sat on its hunches first, and then extended out his front legs, and laid down in the sun.

Then Homelander reached out to him. The animal immediately snapped and revealed its fangs once more, growling. Homelander pulled his hands back, an obviously outraged frown on his face. And for a moment, she feared he might cut it in half. But his expression eventually softened. He peeled off his glove, and reached out again, this time ever so slowly, making sure the puppy was catching every one of his movements and not taken by surprise. The puppy didn’t growl but stared at him warningly. Finally, it allowed the superhero to rest his hand on its back and pet him. The hair along his back stopped raising, and suddenly, its eyes weren’t glazed with anger anymore.

She released the breath that until then, she hadn’t realized she had been holding, still not quite sure what it was that she was seeing. He’d actually taken the time to coax the puppy out of its cage, and instead of lashing out when it had rejected his initial approach, changed his strategy to suit the animal’s needs. She had never seen him go to such effort for someone else, not in a long, long time; except perhaps for her.

Slowly, mimicking his actions, she reached out to the puppy, whispering soothing words to it. It allowed her to pet him too, and while Homelander scratched it behind the ears, she ran her hand along its back.

And then, as if the entire situation wasn’t already unexpected enough, the little fellow flopped onto his back and exposed is dark brown belly to them, demanding belly rubs. Belly rubs!

“John” she called at him again “What the hell are you doing exactly?”

“Aggressive my ass” he finally said, his eyes never leaving the puppy as it started to twitch one of its hind legs “He’s just tired of being locked up in a fucking cage, with people ordering him about and calling him out”.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Her eyes opened in realization, and she breathed out softly “Does he sound familiar to you?”

Homelander finally lifted his face to look at her. His blue eyes were soft, showing genuine emotion for the first time that day. It seemed like his anger had finally subdued. In his gaze, she actually saw the implicit apology for his behavior towards her earlier that day. Homelander never apologized, but she knew how to look for that feeling in his eyes. They could be almost naively transparent when he wasn’t thinking.

“Someone should have bothered to ask him what he wanted. Maybe if they stopped treating him like a potential killing machine, he wouldn’t be all growls and snaps” he shrugged.

The puppy emitted a playful yelp. It sat back up, and stepped closer to Homelander, until it rested its snout on top of his knees and looked up to him. Grateful. Trusting. Every so slightly, its short tail wiggled.

And then, without any explanation, Homelander scooped him up and rose to his feet. She rose with him, still not quite believing her eyes. “I know that look. What exactly are you planning?” she knew that determined set on his jaw when he set his mind on something.

“I think he’s seen enough of kennels to last a lifetime. I’m taking him with us. If these people won’t bother to actually treat him according to his needs, then…” suddenly he stopped, as if he had just realized what he had been about to say. His expression was almost comical as he cleared his throat “Well…he shouldn’t be here anyways”.

She cracked a grin, and took a step closed to rub the puppy’s head. It had started to doze off in Homelander’s arms. The hero, after a moment, reached out and wrapped his free arm around her waist.

“You do realize they’re going to lose their shit back at the tower with a dog running about, right?”

Homelander looked at her, his face serious. He didn’t care. He’d do as he damn well pleased. She knew that look. It said mine. Suddenly, he grinned at her, before looking down at the dozing pup in his arms. “I’d be disappointed if they didn’t. How about you, buddy?”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

[extasiswings]

"sigurista" for Eddie

Edit: On ao3 here.

sigurista: Someone who makes sure that everything goes as planned; the kind of person who will not act unless he totally feels sure that the desired result would be obtained. [Okay, this is probably cheating because it only very technically fits if you squint, but this is all the result of your enabling so.  If anyone wanted more White House AU Buddie, this is a follow up to this prompt fill.]  

It’s a quiet day.

Now, Buck’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he can count on one hand the number of times his schedule has been so light throughout the first year of his presidency, so he can’t help checking it again and then a third time just to make sure. But it doesn’t change the longer he looks at it.

Okay. So, it’s a quiet, light day. That’s a good thing—it’s not like he can’t use the rest.

He’s just not sure why he can’t quite work the tension out of his shoulders, why he feels poised on the edge of a tightrope made of razor wire about to either fall or get sliced.

By noon, all of his scheduled meetings are finished and he’s even managed to catch up on some of the reports he’d been meaning to dig deeper into. He’s antsy and full of untethered energy and, finally, he closes the file he’s looking through and crosses the room to knock on the door connecting the Oval with the Chief of Staff’s office.

(After the last time he walked in without thinking and got an eyeful of his sister and Chim that made him want to bleach his brain, he always knocks.)

“Hey, Chim—I’m going to head back to the residence for the rest of the day—”

The main office door opens.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Mr. President,” Athena says, and it’s been enough time that Buck knows when the head of the secret service shows up personally and without warning it means nothing good. Right behind her, the aide to his National Security Advisor comes skidding to a halt, out of breath.

“You’re needed in the situation room, sir.”

Buck looks back at Athena.

“Michael—?”

(It may well be a conflict of interest that the Vice President’s ex-wife is responsible for making sure Buck stays alive, but then, Buck’s pretty sure there’s no less of one than the fact that his sister is dating his Chief of Staff so...)

“He’s being moved to a secure location,” she replies. “But yes, Bobby’s waiting in the sit room. I can fill you in on the way.”

Buck swears internally and runs a hand through his hair.

“Okay. What do we have?”

“Bomb threat and possible shooter at the Pentagon,” Athena says, and Buck’s heart stops, ice freezing his insides. Because that’s—

“You know, some of us have actual work to do,” Eddie said the night before, the look in his eyes exasperated but fond in the dim light from the lamp on his desk.

“You mean entertaining the leader of the free world isn’t in your job description, Lieutenant Diaz?” Buck had teased right back, reveling in the quirk of Eddie’s lips.

“Yeah, well, you’re going to have to find someone else to entertain you tomorrow—I’ll be in meetings with the joint chiefs at the Pentagon all day. Should be thrilling stuff.”

“Maybe I’ll invent a national security emergency—get you out of it.”

Eddie laughed. “Please don’t, they’ll just reschedule. And then there will be paperwork.”

—that’s where Eddie is.

“How the fuck does that happen?” Buck croaks out, feeling like he’s swallowed glass.

“We’re working out the exact details,” Athena replies. “But it’s fairly clear it was an inside job. Whoever it is killed one of the marines on duty and called in the bomb himself, we’re looking at the security feeds and card access records to narrow down a name.”

She finishes just as they step through the door of the situation room and Bobby looks up.

“Dennis Pierce,” he fills in. “He’s been there eight years, looks like he was identified as part of the investigation to see which employees might have ties to white supremacist groups. He hasn’t been fired yet because the investigation isn’t  finished, but I guess he saw the writing on the wall.”

“And thought he would tender his resignation by, what? Blowing up the joint chiefs?” Buck can hear the edge in his voice, which means Bobby definitely can as well.

(They met on the campaign trail, when Buck started getting intelligence briefings that made him feel like he was drowning, in over his head. But Bobby never treated him like an idiot who didn’t know the first thing about national security, was always patient, willing to sit with him and explain. And by now, Buck’s pretty sure he would be lost without him. Without him and—)

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Bobby replies, his own voice carefully even. Steady. “We have a bomb squad on site and every armed guard in the building looking for this guy, not to mention that most of the people he’s likely to run into are combat-trained military.”

The phone on the desk rings and Bobby picks it up as the door opens and the heads of the FBI and CIA file in.

“Copy that,” Bobby says and hangs up, tapping a few keys on his keyboard to bring up blueprints on the main screen and highlighting a room on the fifth floor.

“Someone pressed one of the hidden panic buttons in conference room J,” he explains. “Bomb squad is on its way and we should be getting camera feeds—now.”

The feed flickers into the screen and steals Buck’s breath all over again, because there, on the screen, with his hands raised and facing down an older, grizzled white man with a gun in one hand and a trigger to the bomb vest strapped to his chest in the other—is Eddie.

“There’s no audio,” Buck points out as Eddie’s lips move too quickly for him to read anything clearly.

“There aren’t any speakers or mics in the room.”

Maybe not, but—over Pierce’s shoulder, Buck notices a phone on the wall.

“I want to talk to him,” he says. “Call the room.”

Bobby’s look is sharp when he turns to look at him.

“Sir, I really wouldn’t advise—”

“Call,” Buck repeats, his tone booking no argument.

Bobby’s lips press thin, but he picks up the phone, speaking quietly into the receiver while Buck doesn’t look away from the camera feed, his stomach twisting itself into knots as Pierce shakes his head violently in response to whatever Eddie is saying. Time seems to slow the longer he watches, even as Bobby passes him the phone.

“Extension 3596,” Bobby says quietly. And Buck dials.

He can’t see the phone ring on the feed, but he sees the effect—Pierce twitches, his head whipping around in surprise, and Eddie takes advantage of the distraction to move—

The feed cuts out.

The phone keeps ringing.

“What happened?” Buck demands. “What—we have to get it back, we have to—”

The line picks up.

“This is General O’Halloran, who am I speaking with?”

Buck swallows hard.

“General, this is the President. What’s your status?”

“Lieutenant Diaz neutralized the threat, sir. Passed him off to the bomb squad waiting outside. We’re all safe and sound.”

There’s something rising up in his throat, and Buck isn’t sure if it’s just a wave of overwhelming emotion or if it’s actually bile.

“Glad to hear it, General,” he chokes out.

He passes the phone back to Bobby and shoves back his chair then, not caring whether they need him for anything, just needing—needing—

Buck rips at the knot of his tie as he steps into the hallway, and only barely makes it through the door of the bathroom at the end of it before he throws up in the sink.

The door opens again a moment later, as he’s gripping the edge of the sink trying to get his adrenaline under control.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Athena says quietly. “Everyone’s fine. Especially him.”

Buck could almost laugh at that if he was in any sort of mood. Because he hasn’t even told Eddie—not technically—hasn’t ever done anything to truly cross a line, but apparently everyone knows anyway.

“I could have lost him...and I would have had to watch,” he says.

“But you didn’t.”

Buck rinses his mouth out and spits.

“Is Bobby pissed at me for walking out?”

Athena shrugs. “I doubt it. I can take you back to the residence now if you want—tell Bobby to finish up and debrief you later.”

Buck swallows again. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

He pauses as half an idea comes into his head, then adds—

“Hey, Athena?  Do you think—”

Which is how he finds himself waiting in a car outside a condo in Virginia with an extra protective detail at nine that night as his regular agents knock on the door. A woman with dark hair opens the door, and Buck can see the way her eyebrows shoot up as she exchanges quick words with the agents before they step inside to conduct their sweep. A minute passes, then the agent at his side taps her earpiece.

“Clear. Got it,” she says, and that’s all Buck needs to get out of the car.

The same dark-haired woman is standing in the entryway, arms crossed, when he walks through the door. He stops in his tracks, suddenly nervous as her calculating gaze trails over him.

“Adriana?” He guesses, and she hums.

“A little warning would have been nice,” she says, but Buck thinks he catches a hint of a smile as she turns on her heel to go down the hallway off the kitchen to what he assumes is a bedroom. “Good night, Mr. President.”

Buck opens his mouth to say something, when Eddie himself appears at the top of the stairs, hair wet and clothes sticking to his skin like he’s just jumped out of the shower.

“Adriana, what the hell—” Eddie cuts off the moment his eyes land on Buck and she just laughs before she disappears down the hall.

“Hi,” Buck says quietly.

“Hey,” Eddie replies. There’s a bruise blossoming over his cheek and Buck’s fingers itch to touch it, or really, to touch Eddie everywhere he can to remind him that he’s here, he’s alive, Buck didn’t lose—

Eddie clears his throat and makes his way the rest of the way down the stairs.

“You’re...in my house.”

Buck shifts his weight. “You almost died today.”

Eddie blows out a breath and rakes a hand through his wet hair.

“Guess you didn’t have to fake that national security emergency after all.”

“Guess not.”

Eddie’s gaze turns considering, his brow furrowing as an odd look crosses his face.

“So...I almost die...and that warrants you showing up in the middle of the night?  Why?”

Buck wets his lips, feeling like he can barely hold Eddie’s eyes. His pulse is racing, blood rushing in his ears, and his voice is a mere rasp when he says—

“You know why.”

You have to know.

Eddie glances down at the floor, then over to the windows where the curtains are closed. Then he nods once.

“Maybe. But...I think I need you to say it.”

Buck nearly throws his hands up. “Fuck, Eddie, because I love—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence because Eddie closes the distance and kisses the rest away, backing Buck against the closed front door. Buck nearly chokes on relief as his hand scramble to twist into Eddie’s damp t-shirt and pull him even closer.

“I thought—” he gasps out when Eddie breaks the kiss in favor of pressing a trail of them down his neck— “I thought you were going to die and I wasn’t going to get to tell you.”

Eddie pauses his exploration, hands spasming on Buck’s hips.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes against his skin. “Yeah, me too.”  

Buck threads his fingers through Eddie’s hair and tugs him back up to kiss him again.

“Athena says she’ll kill me if I’m not back by midnight,” he admits.

Eddie’s lips quirk as he curls a finger through one of Buck’s belt loops and tugs him towards the stairs.

“Then we’re swimming in time.”

[angryschnauzer]

Last Night on the Plain

Summary; As an archeology student at the end of your first year of University, you spend the summer on a dig in the South of England. Throughout the whole dig you’ve lusted after the site-lead; a fresh out of his doctorate Dr Cavill, assigned to the dig to get some leadership experience. Will the last night you spend on Salisbury Plain be one to remember?

(This fic is a prequel to my multichapter story Superior Specimen it can be read alone but contains spoilers for that story) Links for Superior Specimen: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Pairing: Grad Student Henry Cavill x 19 year old Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Mutual Pining, Professor/Student Relationship, Oral Sex, Blow Job, Fingering, Unprotected Sex. SPOILERS FOR Superior Specimen.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you will get an alert every time i post a new fic.

Please check out my AO3 for masterlist.

Last Night on the Plain

 Sitting on the kerb outside Iceland, the little town of Warminster was quiet on a Saturday afternoon. The Land Rover would soon be coming through to pick you and your friends up, the dig site lead having driven a few of you into town to collect supplies for the last night of the six week long dig. 

 Six weeks of living in tents, running to the nearby stream to dive into the Watercress filled waters and wash, rinsing your underwear in a bucket and hanging over guy ropes of the tents and hoping the cows in the next field over don’t lean over the fence and eat them, six weeks of celebrating the end of your first year of University. 

 You loved Archaeology, having studied hard for your A-Levels at college, you got the grades to go to Southampton University to study it. The dig would contribute towards your yearly grade, teaming up with other uni’s from around England, the excavations on the far west of Salisbury Plain in the south of England, and the project was to uncover settlements from when the giant pillars of Stonehenge were moved from their starting point in Wales and anything from the trade routes over the following millennia. 

 Your friend nudged you in the ribs, nodding to the vehicle heading towards the three of you;

 “Hey hey, here comes Cav”

 “Dibs on shotgun” you blurted out, your friends groaning at your speed at calling the front seat.

 Standing, the three of you watched as the site lead pulled up to the kerb, his big smile at seeing you misfits waiting for him made your stomach do a little flip. He brought the Land Rover to a bumpy halt at the kerb, leaving the engine running as he got out and helped load the supplies into the back, reaching the front passenger door just in time to hold it open for you. You missed the way he looked at your ass as you climbed in, shutting the door after you.

 The ride back to the dig site was bumpy; 30-year-old Land Rovers weren’t known for their comfort, the lack of seatbelts in the vintage vehicle not helping as the country roads and tracks were littered with potholes. You were painfully aware of the way your breasts were bouncing around, having foregone bras within the first week of the dig. They pinched and prodded you as you bent over excavating for hours on end and became an unnecessary addition to have to bother keep washing by hand. 

 On one particularly vicious bump you were bounced across the narrow bench seat, grabbing at Cav’s leg before you ended up headbutting the steering wheel. He apologetically smiled at you;

 “Sorry…”

 “S’ok”

 You rode in silence for a while, the pair in the back deep in discussion about the merits of getting an upgrade from their Sony Ericsson’s to Blackberries. Finally your seatmate spoke;

 “So, pink, huh Punk?”

 You pulled at a strand of hair, holding it out from your head and grinned;

 “The Sun-In turned it orange. Orange isn’t my colour”

 “I left you in town for forty five minutes… how did you have time to dye your hair?” he said with a grin.

 “It’s Cherry flavour Panda Pop. We stood in the alley behind Ladbrokes and poured a bottle over my hair”

 He laughed, his toothy grin wide and genuine;

 “That explains the smell”

 “Hope you’re referring to the cherry and not the alley”

 His face paled and he stuttered, before you grinned and gave his thigh a squeeze;

 “I’m teasing”

 He smiled and turned his attention back to the road, concentrating on the journey now that the paved roads had finished and it was now dusty tracks across the farmland. You watched as he steered the vehicle, and you knew he was going to be your only regret of the summer. Dr Cavill, or Cav as everyone called him on site, fresh having finished his doctorate in Palaeontology, but desperately in need of some leadership skills and experience on how to run a site dig.  He was cute. Tall and fit, gorgeous blue eyes and high cheekbones, both of which were regularly hidden by his mop of soft chestnut brown hair. When he was deep in concentration he would nibble at his lip and it only made them plumper. 

 You were so in your little dream world that when he made the sharp right hand turn into the field the dig was in you lost your grip, your hand sliding from its spot on his thigh to in between his legs, your head low on his stomach;

 “Oh!”

 He slowed the Land Rover as you scrambled back to your seat, his cheeks flushed and pink.

 “Sorry…”

 -

 The campfire was down to its last embers, the sun almost fully set. It was the last night of the dig and you were all celebrating. The finds had been fantastic, everything catalogued and recorded, friendships hatched and grown, sunburn peeling away to reveal soft skin, leave-in bleach hair sprays and nights of passing around a three litre bottle of White Lightning - the cheapest by volume cider you could find. Cav had excused himself to his tent, not often joining the students for the latter parts of drinking, and the nights argument was whether or not it was too late to walk the three miles to the Red Lion pub in Heytesbury.

 “You guys go. I’m gonna take one last look at the north end trench, see if i can find my amethyst necklace I lost last week”

 “Punk, you’re drunk, it’s getting dark too!”

 “I’m not drunk, I’ve had a few sips of Cider, and I’ve got a head torch”

 “Fine, suit yourself”

 -

 Brushing through the sandy soil you were yet to find your necklace, but as the friction under the brush suddenly changed you looked closer, smiling when you saw what was revealed. 

 Minutes later you stood at his tent, calling out;

 “Cav? I’ve found something…”

 He appeared in the doorway, the camping lantern illuminating his tent as it sat on the table where he would write his notes and inspect finds;

 “Hey! What have you…” he saw the shards of pottery you were holding in your hands, his eyes going wide; “You found the last parts?”

 Nodding you smiled. Throughout the dig the team had discovered finds from multiple era’s, and one he’d found was the majority of shards from a Roman Pot, an urn that would have been used to carry Olive Oil all the way from the southernmost parts of the Roman Empire. You knew that it had been frustrating him that all his attempts to reassemble the urn had failed, the missing pieces seemingly integral to the structure.

 He pulled the tent flap to the side for you to enter, setting the pieces down onto the table before straddling the bench that sat beside it. Cav came over and grabbed the tray that held the other parts, a ball of blu-tack nestled in the corner;

 “This is amazing! It looks like all the missing pieces are here!” he turned to you, his eyes shining bright in the glow of the lamp; “I thought you all were going to the pub?”

 “I stayed… I wanted to have one last search for my necklace I lost last week”

 “Oh… did you find it?”

 “No. But this is so much better! C’mon, I wanna see if we can get this to fit together now!”

 His long legs meant he could step over the bench with ease, sitting down next to you and you watched as he started to push the pieces together, cradling them in his large handspan. Softening the blu-tack he pulled a little off and applied it to the edge of a piece, angling his arm at an awkward angle, cursing under his breath;

 “Could you…”

 “Sure” taking the piece from him he held the fragile urn in both hands as you bent over his arms and stuck it into place, moving onto the next piece, this time near his hand furthest from you. 

 Due to the angles you were struggling to see, before you spoke quietly;

 “Lean back a little”

 He did as you asked, extending his arms to full stretch as he held the artefact, letting out a squeak of surprise as you tucked yourself under one arm, shuffling to straddling his lap and sit;

 “Okay, now I can see what I’m doing…” you muttered as you pushed your ass back against him, the whole thing completely innocent, but you were unaware of the look of panic on his face, how he was afraid he was going to crack a tooth from gritting his jaw, willing his dick not to get hard.

 He was now rendered to simply holding the urn in place, he was unable to concentrate, however you had taken over the placement of the new pieces, slotting them into their gaps, the blu-tack holding them secure. As you slid the final piece in you sat back, resting your back against his chest, smoothing your hands over his as you both took in the piece of pottery that dated back two millennia;

 “It's stunning…” you muttered.

 He softly brushed his thumbs over the sides of your hands, and you felt the warm puff of breath on your neck as he spoke;

 “So are you…”

 You let out a breathy sigh, your back arching and you could feel he was hard, the bulge against your ass pressing incessantly against you. Resting your head against his shoulder you turned your head and his lips caught your own. The world stopped and you saw stars as those soft pink pillows caressed your lips, moaning into his mouth and he took the chance to slip his tongue against yours.

 Somehow the two of you managed to gently rest the delicate artefact back onto the tray in the midst of your fledgling passion, his hands intertwining with yours, fingers laced together as his tongue worked magic with your own.

 When you broke the kiss you were gasping for air, his mouth finding your neck as he kissed along your exposed shoulder and neck, his sharp teeth dragging against your skin and making you moan;

 “Oh… oh fuck… yes…”

 He stopped for a moment, his hands still entwined with yours but he wrapped his arms around your body;

 “Tell me to stop… tell me this is wrong, I’m your supervisor…”

 “It’s the last night… let’s give ourselves this night… Just promise not to fall in love with me…”

 “It may be too late for that already” he murmured against your skin, but you were lost in the haze of lust to comprehend his words.

 Your hands finally parted, his slipping beneath your strappy t-shirt, yours reaching back to curl into his hair as his tongue danced patterns over your neck again. You were writhing on his lap, lost in the moment when suddenly the bench tipped, the two of you falling back and landing on the ground. 

 You moved first, rolling off before turning and straddling him, leaning over to catch his lips with your own as you ground your clothed core against the bulge in his tented shorts;

 “I’ve wanted to feel you between my thighs for the last six weeks” you muttered against his earlobe, pressing kisses to his jawline as his hands found your ass and pulled you firmly down onto his body; “The amount of times I’ve gotten myself off in silence as I thought about sneaking into your tent…”

 He could only let out a guttural moan, and as your hands found the edge of his t-shirt you parted so you could strip him of it. 

 You sat back, pressing yourself down harder against his growing erection as you admired his smooth and pale chest, the tiniest crop of hairs right in the centre, delicate muscle definition but still slim and athletic. You watched his face as you trailed your fingers down the length of his long body, finally brushing against the thin trail of hairs that led from his navel into his shorts. You shifted back a little, unfastening the button on his Khaki shorts and unzipping him, reaching into his underwear and grasping his hot length before pulling him free of the cotton confinements. 

 Bending you took him into your mouth, sliding your tongue over his hot flesh as you swallowed around him, bobbing your head up and down. His hands found your head, pressing gently to tell you the speed he liked, a string of curses falling from his lips as you rapidly drove him to the brink of pleasure. It didn’t take long until he let out an ‘uh-oh’ and you slid a hand up his stomach, his own grasping at it as he started to cum in your mouth. You swallowed all that he gave you, his back arching as he thrust up into the warm comfort between your lips, before his body went limp. 

 Pulling off him his hands gripped at your arms, pulling you up his chest until you were laying on top of him;

 “You’ll need to give me a moment… then I’ll be right with you…”

 You grinned and pressed a kiss to his bite swollen lips before standing, and he pushing himself up to rest on his elbows, a look of panic on his face before you grinned at him;

 “Chill… just getting more comfy…”

 You pulled your top off and dropped it to the ground, unfastening your combat shorts and let them fall too, kicking off your flipflops before you were standing there in just your knickers, your thumbs hooked over the sides before he finally spoke;

 “I want to be the one to take those off…”

 He quickly stood and pulled you over to the double air mattress he had in his tent, watching you lay back against his sleeping bag as he stripped himself of the rest of this clothing. As he climbed on he crawled up your body, and it was then that you saw the tiniest patch of brown in the sea of his blue eyes. You were mesmerized by it as he lay over you, your legs parting as he rutted against you, already growing hard again. He moved to your side and slid a hand down the length of your sternum, over your soft stomach and into your underwear, feeling how the thin cotton was soaked through with your arousal. Sitting up he pulled the ruined scrap of fabric down your legs, looking at your soaked petals as he parted them with his long fingers, finding your sensitive nub and rubbing delicate circles against it, before sliding his hand down and pushing two fingers into your soaked hole;

 “Fuck… you feel so tight…”

 “I need you… I need you inside me…”

 “I don’t… I don’t have any protection…” he looked pained to admit what could be the stopping point of the night.

 “I’m on the pill… been taking it continually so I didn’t get a period whilst on the dig…you can go bare…”

His eyes went wide, he’d had a number of lovers over his years at University, and he was well into his mid 20’s, but he had always used condoms, never wanting the girl to have to take the responsibility for their tryst… he had never gone bare but just at the mere thought of sliding into your heat, to feel your hot wetness against his skin, it made him as hard as a rock.

 He scissored his fingers inside you before shifting, pulling them from you as he positioned himself between your thighs, the light from the lantern casting long shadows over your bodies. He rested his tip against your folds, taking a moment to lick your juices from his fingers, then with a smirk he started to press into you.

 With each passing inch your eyes fluttered shut, not realising you were missing the look on his face as he found heaven between your legs. The feel of your pussy around him was almost suffocating, hugging him so tight as he slid in with ease from your arousal;

 “Oh my god… you feel so fucking good… you’re gonna have to tell me how you like it, cos’ I don’t think I’m going to last long…” he muttered.

 Wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongues whilst your body grew accustomed to his impressive length inside you, the biggest you had ever taken;

 “Hard and fast, I was made to be broken… break me…”

At your words something changed in him, pushing his body onto his arms as he started to rut into you, watching your juices shine on his dick as he pulled out, only to slam back in as your body took every inch of him, your silken channel hugging him tight. The tent was filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, and knowing you were the only ones on site your voices rose, your moans filling the night sky. 

 Your body was bucking beneath him, shaking from pleasure and he could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer. He desperately wanted to feel you come around him, pushing a hand between your bodies he rubbed furiously at your clit, feeling your body tighten and your back arch, and as you came your body trembled around him. 

 The feeling was indescribable, he was so deep in pleasure that when his back arched and he came deep inside you he let out a roar, his eyes screwed shut as he filled you with his come, finally going limp, his arms shaking from the exertion of holding himself above you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him on top of you, burying your face in his neck as you breathed in his scent.

 Finally finding his voice he whispered quietly;

 “Stay with me tonight”

 Wrapped in the sleeping bag and blankets you did just that, curled up in his arms and the warmth of his embrace.

 -

 Henry was woken by the sounds of the camp being broken down, the crews from the various universities packing up their things as the minibuses arrived to take them back to the halls of residences or shared houses. He was alone in his bed, and as he sat up he could hear your voice yelling out to your tent-mates to ‘pick up your fucking stuff’. 

 In the hours that followed various vehicles turned up on site, his own supervisors, benefactors and sponsors of the dig, all very excited by the finds and reports, and especially of the assembled Roman Urn. At every moment he tried to get away, tried to find a moment to talk to you, but as the minutes and hours ticked by the window was closing. 

 You were all packed up, everything in the old minibus. Every time you had looked across the site he was talking to someone important looking, never getting a moment where he was alone. The driver of your minibus honked the horn and you panicked;

 “Hang on, I’ve just got one more thing to do…”

 You ran across the site and he saw you, excusing himself from the people he was talking to and managed to intercept you behind the old Ford Transit van that was taking the equipment away. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your lips;

 “I didn’t want you to leave before I got to say goodbye”

 Your bottom lip trembled, your voice shaking;

 “I’ve left my number on a piece of paper on your table, its tucked under the tray with the urn on”

 He let out a sigh of relief, nodding before kissing you again, the sound of your minibus driver honking the horn impatiently.

 You reluctantly pulled out of his arms, giving him a final wave before running to the bus, and he watched from the side of the van as you climbed in, the vehicle driving off into the distance as a cloud of dust trailed behind it.

 “Henry!” an older male voice called out cheerfully. 

 Rubbing his palms over his face he took a deep breath, before turning and smiling at his supervising professor;

 “Hey, good to see you Sir”

 The older man clapped a hand over Henry’s shoulder;

 “You’ve done an amazing job on this dig… the reports that came in have been exemplary. You had all the same students at the end of the dig as at the start which I’ll have you know is a particular skill… some site leads drive students away in droves!”

 Leading Henry back towards the dig site he waxed lyrical about Henry’s skill and how he showed true leadership skills, turning to another gentleman that was leaning against Henry’s Land Rover;

 “Have you met Piers?”

 Henry shook his head, he knew who he was being introduced to, the CEO of the most prestigious museum in the UK and some would say the world with regards to Archaeology and Palaeontology. Shaking the man’s hand he was speechless;

 “We’ve been following the dig reports, your talent is something I haven’t seen for many years… we’d like to discuss a position on our expedition board with you…”

 “Y-yes… that would be fantastic! Thank you”

 “Now, let’s see that Roman urn I’ve been hearing all about…”

 Leading the men to his tent he lifted the tray, pulling it out into the sunshine as they took in the beauty of it, no-one noticing the small scrap of paper catch on the wind and slipping out of the tent, Henry too distracted by the reality of being hired for his dream job.

 -

 Many Years Later.

 Henry grinned as his team crowed around him, the heat of the Siberian Summer seeping into their pores. In broken Russian the students were laughing and shouting, before three of them carried the massive femur bone they’d excavated a few days previously over to Henry, heaving it into his massive arms.

 “Smile!” someone shouted out and he heard the clicks of phone camera shutters, before he gently rested it onto the soft ground, chatting to the team as he did so.

 That night they hit the bars of the nearest town, Henry smiling when he saw one had wifi, connecting his phone and uploading a few updates to the dig account and also his own. An hour later he checked his phone and saw his Instagram notifications, one account name in particular catching his attention; @thepunkwiththepinkhair

 It couldn't be, could it?

 It was. It was you. The pink may be gone, but he had finally found you again.

*******************************************************************************

Thank you for reading!

Some explanations of British shops/brands;

Iceland = a budget supermarket chain

White Lightning = cheap, harsh apple cider, sold in bottles that are 3000ml/a gallon for around £5.00 (USD7/EURO6)

Panda Pop = very cheap fizzy drink, full of additives, artificial colours, sugar.

Ladbrokes - a chain of gambling shops.

Sun-in - spray in hair bleach that you would spritz on your hair and go out in the sunshine, and it would bleach your hair. Apparently it was meant to give you ‘sun kissed highlights’, but when i was 18 i turned my hair bright orange with it.

In the UK University starts when you are 18, and a degree lasts 3 or 4 years. You can then do a ‘post graduate course’ which is another year of studying, and if you want to work towards your doctorate, it can be another 4-7 years on top of that, which is why Henry in this story is literally fresh out of studying even though he is approximately 25 years old.

[svtntntn]

part of your world (2/2)

little mermaid!au

inspo: the little mermaid, both the disney version and the classic fairytale but make it somewhat similar and different at the same time

a/n: a long overdue piece

you long for life above the surface and get your wish when you make a deal with the infamous witch of the sea

[ part one ]

——

"The First Kingdom's economy is built upon the sea it lives by. For years, the source of income and wealth here has relied on fishing and creating inventions using hydraulic power." Soonyoung drones about the history and economics of the First Kingdom but you're barely listening to him and he knows it.

You wobble on your two feet as the ground changes from bumpy, embedded stones to the familiar warmth of the grainy beach sand, your grip on Soonyoung's hand being the only anchor keeping you upright as your eyes focus strictly on placing one foot in front of the other. His other hand holds your shoes for you as your face contorts in fascination of the different textures, his eyes darting between you and the street in front of you both in order to properly guide you around town. He stays on the main street's stone and mortar road while you drift off into the sandy edges of the beach.  

The baby steps you started with have definitely improved since the day you washed to shore, your coordination becoming much more easier to manage and balance at the same time. The amazed smile on your face doesn't slip by unnoticed by Soonyoung, who watches you with a matching wide smile.

You'd be walking alongside Chan but given his role as king-to-be in less than a month's time, he was commanded to attend a strict schedule with his mother and father.

So much for fulfilling the sea witch's bargain.

You shake your head at the thought of becoming trapped by the evil witch and glance up at your surroundings, taking in the fresh air and the open stretch of land around you, reveling in the sights the water could never give you. There's a putrid scent in the air and you squint as you sniff around, noticing a man standing at the end of the nearby pier, his body bent over a large barrel off the end of the dock.

You smack Soonyoung's shoulder repeatedly and point in the mystery man's direction, your hits becoming more and more aggressive once Soonyoung snaps out of his reverie. "Huh?"

You make an 'X' with your arms defiantly and motion the man dumping but the more time you try to explain the situation, the more time is wasted. As he tries to comprehend your actions, you're already rushing over to the pier, your bare feet scratching against the worn wood of the docks.

You yank the sleeve of the man dumping waste into the water, pulling his arm back from pouring the barrel of waste into the ocean. "What the—excuse me, Miss! Let go of me!" He sets the basin down on the ground in disgruntlement.

He starts yelling at you as you try to argue back, narrowing your eyes at him as you mime through the motions of an argument with him, his voice overpowering the lack of your own. Soonyoung reels you back and quickly placates the man for a moment, a meek smile on his face.

"Excuse me, sir! Sorry, I apologize for her—she can’t.... you know?" Soonyoung makes a talking motion with his hand, before whispering to the townsperson. "She lost her voice not too long ago—it's a very fragile situation, really. Her voice before though?" He scrunches his nose fondly before shaking his head, "I actually couldn't tell you." He deadpans.

You smack his shoulder and point at the nasty waste barrel, "but sir, if you could please stop dumping your shop's waste into the oceans, that would be much appreciated. The ocean is not the place to throw such foul items away, it'd be much better if you're able to throw it away by the proper waste and recycling site. Please sir, for the good of the country! For our economy, for the creatures living below us! You wouldn't want to be feeding your family poisoned fish, would you?"

The man grumbles and carries his barrel off the docks, giving you a dirty look once he passes you. You keep your head held high and avoid him, relaxing only when the townsperson leaves you and Soonyoung alone on the pier.

"(y/n)," Soonyoung tips his head back in resolve and lets out a deep sigh, "you can’t keep going up to people and stopping them from trashing the waters." He mutters to you, kneeling down and carefully putting your shoes on for you. You two begin walking off the pier and starting for the main street into the marketplace, waving to the kind men and women manning their stalls and bow in respect to them. "Some people aren't as kind or obedient to the kingdom's rules."

You give him a mean glare as you hasten your step, making Soonyoung trip over the cobbled streets as you basically drag him by the arm, "(y/n)! (y/n), slow down! Why are you so mad? It's just not as strictly enforced as other laws, there's other issues going on in the kingdom."

You desperately want to shout at him—how the environment is crucial to our basic living, how would you like it if people just dumped waste on your bed or in your food—but you can't.

Your feet come to a complete stop as Soonyoung catches himself from falling over, unlinking your arms to cross your own across your chest. He slowly catches his breath before turning to you, "Hey, turn that frown upside down."

He tries to pull the corners of your lips into a smile but you refuse to budge, "(y/n), c’mon." You shake your head and close your eyes, the pout on your lips making Soonyoung bite his lip in disbelief. "Ok, there’s not much I can do personally considering this is not my kingdom, but I'll talk to Chan about the waste and the dumping. Maybe he can enforce stricter laws and their consequences."

Immediately, one of your eyes opens and peeks at him, scanning him up and down to call his bluff. Soonyoung gives you a smile and starts walking along the street, turning around and finding you frozen to your spot with your pinkie finger reaching out towards him. "Pinkie promises? What are we, in grade school?"

You narrow your eyes towards him and he sighs deeply, capturing your pinkie in his and falling down on one knee in front of you in grand fashion, "I, Kwon Soonyoung, promise to talk to Chan about the unforgiving, despicable acts of waste mismanagement going on in the kingdom by the sea. If I fail to do so, I am at the mercy of (y/n)'s silent, yet deadly wrath. So help me," he winks up at you and you shake your head with a smile, nodding to the agreement of his promise to you.

You ignore the way your heart races at the slightly embarrassing but genuine and grand fashion of Soonyoung's theatrics, not even caring who is staring at you two in the street.

Soonyoung pulls your interlocked fingers to his lips but you pull your finger out of his before he can kiss your hand. "Happy now?"

He stands up and brushes the gravel off his pant legs before reaching for your hand again, "Ready to circle back? Chan's probably waiting for us."

~

"5, 6, 7, 8—stop! Keep your form straight and proper, remember to engage your center, Chan. Don't puff your chest out so much, relax your shoulders. No, press them down!"

Another crack of a cane against the ground reverberates through the courtyard, distracting you from your solo adventure around the castle. You begin to peek into the courtyard of the castle's garden from a window, using the ruffled curtains to hide yourself from view.

Chan's arms are wrapped around a young woman you've noticed with him before, one of his many tutors everso ardently by his side. Another woman—this time, a much older woman sternly looks on at the two with a sour expression, her wooden cane deftly smacking the ground before she shouts at the pair—or Chan, moreso.

You watch Chan and his tutor move in sync, watch them move with such grace and control, skating all over the courtyard in one fluid, continuous motion. It was as if they were swimming, flowing through the water with such poise and elegance you've only witnessed when you were down below.

"Ah, etiquette and dance lessons.” Soonyoung's voice shocks you, causing you to jump behind the curtain and nearly knock over a porcelain vase off its pedestal. You clutch the vase close to your chest and stare at Soonyoung. "Not fun when your teacher is nearing death and smacking you with her cane every two minutes. Chan's gotten it easier considering she strikes the ground instead of him."

You raise your eyebrow and Soonyoung points to the woman past the glass pane, the same woman that's been reprimanding Chan. "That’s Miss Kwon, Chan’s dance tutor. She's more like a crazy dragon lady though."

You hear the same surname and try to draw a line between the elderly woman and him.

"No relation, I would know," Soonyoung promises, a curious smile on his face as you let go of the curtain. He mimics an old lady voice along with her mannerisms, making you shake your head. "What were you peeking here for? You've danced before right? Don't tell me you don't know how to dance…" You don't make any sort of movement or denial. "Wait, you have never danced before—how?"

You slowly shake your head, shrugging as you peep through the curtain again and stare at how the woman and Chan float around the open garden, how their moves effortlessly flow together.

Suddenly a hand is wrapped tightly around yours and you're pulled into the empty foyer of the castle, the newest pair of shoes Chan purchased for you squeaking against the floor.

"I'll teach you, don't worry. I won't yell as loud as she does." He winks, unbuttoning his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves. You awkwardly tug at the hemline of your borrowed dress, the length concerning you as you yank it lower.

"(y/n), let me." Soonyoung brings you close to him and ties his jacket around your waist, covering you modestly before straightening his own posture and grinning at you, "ready?"

Soonyoung takes your hand in his and places your hand on his shoulder, gently wrapping his other hand around your waist. You immediately tense up being so close to him, preparing to move when he does but he freezes, waiting for you to relax. "Don't be so stiff—dancing is all about letting the music carry you, letting the song move you. Don't think about it too much."

You nod and shake out your nerves, staring down at your hand in his, already knowing your palm must be drenched in a nervous sweat before you feel a hand tip your chin up, "Don't look at your hands or your feet, just keep your eyes on me. I'll guide you."

Soonyoung slowly instructs you to move one leg back and you do as he says, taking another step back with your other foot once he shifts towards you. The multitude of simple directions guides you around the foyer, your hair swaying to and fro to the melody of the silent song Soonyoung sings.

His eyes are a deep set brown shade, full of warmth and comfort, you think to yourself, mindlessly staring into the dark orbs. Everytime you sway to the right, his face is lit by the pure rays of sunlight entering from the high windows of the foyer, his eyes sparkling with specks of orange around his pupils.

You're so focused on his eyes that you don't even register the change in Soonyoung's next set of instructions, nearly face planting on the stainless, pristine tiles. Reflexively, your hands scramble to reach out in front of you, waiting for the impact but you open your eyes and realize Soonyoung's arms are safely clasped around your waist.

"You're safe, (y/n). I got you." Soonyoung chuckles, bringing you up to your feet. "Let's try that again. This time, don't get distracted, okay?" The soft look in his eyes nearly hypnotizes you again but you nod feverishly and readjust your frame.

You avoid his eyes this time as you concentrate staring at his ear instead, your mind solely listening to his voice and the different directions carrying you all around the room. Soonyoung snickers at your intense staring contest with his ear, giving you one last instruction before pausing in the center of the room. "This last move is simple, I'm gonna lift you up into the air. All you just need to spread your arms wide, got it?"

He slowly moves his hands down and you tense up, immediately smacking his hands off of your waist, "I'm not going to try anything, (y/n)! What, are you ticklish?"

You give a warning glare as Soonyoung keeps eye contact with you, "I got you, I got you. These hands aren't going anywhere else. I’m not gonna let you fall, I promise."

You purse your lips and hold out your pinkie to him, smirking when he rolls his eyes and winds his own pinkie tightly around yours, "Have you no faith in me, (y/n)?"

Before you know it, you're floating in mid-air as Soonyoung's strength suspends you up above his head. He tells you to spread your arms wide in the air like a bird and you can't help but laugh at the mere thought of acting like so.

You are—yet, were as opposite as a bird as you could be.

As you're suspended in mid-air, you can't help but think that it feels like one of those moments you dreamed when you were younger, the ones that your friends gushed in between lessons when they talked about the stolen moments with their crushes—the moments where their breath was taken aback and their heart stopped and felt like it was going to explode all at the same time.

Soonyoung sets you down on your feet and his hands linger around your waist, his eyes stuck on the amazed smile on your lips, "That wasn't so bad was it?"

——

The bell tolls loudly in the background as a gavel hits the base of its platform, the beat echoing into all corners of the grand chamber as the chatter and cacophony dies down. "Everyone, everyone—thank you for your input and I truly do appreciate your feedback in appearing here today. But I'm afraid because there is no unanimous decision, we will have to reconvene in a day's time. Please stay safe and recharge and refuel before you leave the premises."

Chan keeps a poised and regal demeanor even as the older political heads grimace and sneer silently at him, painting a faux smile on his face as they filter out the room. He can already imagine the curses and insults they're chanting in their heads as they leave, wanting nothing more than to retaliate back at them.

Several figureheads on his side shake his hand and promise their allegiance to him and his future agenda before they leave the room, giving Chan assurance as well as room to breathe and relax—just slightly.

The minute the last of the politicians leave the room, Chan collapses and sits back in his chair, slouching and stretching his limbs. At the sound of the chamber doors opening and closing, Chan peeks one eye open before shutting his eye closed again, "Jeonghan, I'm not in the mood to talk right now."

"I'm not talking politics with you, I'm already drained from that three-hour session." Jeonghan groans as the young king-to-be lazily yawns, mumbling incoherent words under his breath. "So who is that girl hanging around you and Soonyoung?"

Chan turns his head in an awful attempt to avoid the royal but Jeonghan nudges him in the leg, "I asked around and people are saying you found her on the beach? In the ocean?"

"You come all the way from your kingdom to ask me about (y/n)?"

Jeonghan isn't even surprised with the slip-up of the mystery girl's name, smirking instead. "(y/n), (y/n)... that's a nice name. Very uncommon around these parts."

Chan opens one eye when the door to the conference chamber is pulled open but relaxes when he notices Soonyoung's figure race to Jeonghan. "Jeonghan! I'm surprised to see you here, all the way from the Fifth Kingdom. When did you arrive here?"

"When the soon-to-be-crowned king calls for a very important meeting with all the royal figureheads in the surrounding area, you simply have to answer at his every beck and call." Jeonghan teases.

"Was Seokmin here?" Soonyoung murmurs quietly whilst distractedly glancing out the window towards the ocean. He spots on you walking along the shoreline, splashing the water with your feet and dipping your fingers into the crystal clear water.

There's a small smile on his lips that only Jeonghan notices, to which he slyly takes a peek out the window as well.

"Seokmin wasn't, actually—he mentioned something coordinating his kingdom's festivals or something of the like." Chan sits up and runs a hand over his face, "you worried about him? Worried he’s doing a terrible job?"

"The Third Kingdom's three-day sun festival started yesterday." Soonyoung notes fondly, ignoring Chan's questions. He pauses and glances off into the distance. "You should send some flowers over, that’s what your father did last year."

"I will." Chan affirms before checking his agenda and glancing at the time. "I have five more minutes before I have to head down for another meeting, so please let me be." He closes his eyes in an attempt to rest before another storm of politicians and advisors hound his ear till lunchtime, but his royal guest and best friend continue their ramblings.

"People have been gossiping around town and in the castle about her, that she must be one of those ocean lovers or something. Like those people, 'one with the sea.'" Jeonghan raises his hands to quote the rumors and shrugs, "but I heard that she's the reason that there is a new bill on anti-dumping laws in the ocean? About how there's going to be a new task division focused on cleaning the toxic waste from the sea? Is that true as well?"

Chan stirs in his chair, but Soonyoung cuts in with a look towards Jeonghan. "The toxic waste is something that's been on the kingdom's list of reforms for ages. And people shouldn't be gossiping about her, end of story. She's just another person like you and me, a person shipwrecked from her home and trying to find her way back."

"Back to the sea, exactly what everyone's saying! Don't you think it's suspicious that she always focused on the ocean? Walking on the beach, cleaning the waters, protecting it? What if… what if she's a siren? A mermaid of some sort!" Jeonghan devises, tapping his chin with his finger. "Remember those myths your mother used to tell us, Soonyoung? When she used to read to you and Seokmin and I? What if—"

"What if what? She’s going to lure us to our deaths? Kill us as we sleep?" Soonyoung scoffs, "Han, those were fantasies, those were children's stories. They’re not real. (y/n) doesn’t have a tail, she doesn’t have a voice to kill us with, she doesn’t even need her voice to seduce you or me or anybody—she could probably do it on looks alone! She's definitely not a siren, she can't be a siren."

Soonyoung freezes when he realizes what exactly he just said, his eyes stuck on Chan as he waits for some sort of teasing or reprimand from him and Jeonghan.

But to his surprise, Chan's eyes open and merely check the time before excusing himself to another meeting and Jeonghan raises his hands in surrender. He looks out the window one more time and notices you sitting in the water, serenely still as your legs point straight in the direction towards the sun, your dress damply clinging to your skin.

The long fabric flounders out past your feet while the rest cling to your legs and upwards, giving Soonyoung an illusion of you as those childhood creatures, those fantasies he forgot about long ago.

You couldn't be, there was just no way.

It's only when you stand up and start to walk back to the palace on your human legs does he shake himself out of the thought.

——

You wave to the drifting boat as you stand on the wooden pier with Soonyoung by your side, watching Chan sail off onboard a ship to a neighboring island just around the corner. Another one of his kingly duties in maintaining international connections and treaties meant he was going to be away from you.

Meaning another week with Soonyoung by your side.

Not that you could complain about him anymore, nor did you want to—he was by your side more often than Chan and that was something you had to be careful about.

The stipulations of the sea witch's agreement said you were to marry a prince of a royal degree, which was something Soonyoung definitely did not retain.

Unless there was something he wasn't telling you.

But how could he be a prince if he spent literally every waking moment with you—where were his royal duties, his army of diligent assistants and servants by his sides? His booked schedule with chamber meetings with far-off royals and politicians and figureheads of different kingdoms? 

Where?

You shake your head as you direct your questioning gaze towards the ship and back to Soonyoung, silently asking him why he wasn't accompanying his best friend on the ship.

Soonyoung seems to read your mind and shrugs, "I don't like ships. What? I can't not like something?"

You mimic his same actions and shrug your shoulders with your lips pursed, remembering back to the time you saved him and Chan when the ship underwent the dangerous storm. He didn't look like the type to refuse adventure or to have motion sickness onboard a large boat—he was there, ruffling Chan's hair and watching the sailors in merriment with his broad, toothy smile.

The same smile you saw when he danced with you in the main castle's lobby.

The same kind of smile you wanted to see at the end of the day, the kind that made you feel at home.

You're too caught up in your thoughts that you nearly miss Soonyoung's retreating figure already nearing the main street of the kingdom, bowing to passing elderly men and women and helping them carry their baskets to their open stalls.

You rush to catch up to him and take one of the handles of the large basket from him, splitting the weight between you too as the elderly woman talks about the newest products within the marketplace and all the gossip between the stall owners.

Soonyoung continues to help the townspeople setting up their stalls and opening their shops to which they pinch his cheeks affectionately and offer him their special of the day, "I-it's alright! I'm happy to help, really it's alright."

You manage to help pull him away from the kind vendor with a thumb pointing back towards the market and a smile on your lips, tugging on his arm and looping it through yours as you both wander around.

With your arm through his, him leaning close to you to explain the different products and shops within the small neighborhood, and the blushing smiles on both your lips just as people push you two closer together when passing by, anyone could think you and Soonyoung could be a young, newlywed couple.

As you two wander through town, you and Soonyoung end up back by the main road near the ocean's shores and stop to notice children skipping rocks down the water. The grey pebbles hop along the water before sinking further down in the ocean, the young kids cheering before another competes against the previous.

You and Soonyoung walk further down the street before Soonyoung goes closer to the bank and picks up a stone in his hand. "Skipping rocks is a skill."

Your attention is captured as Soonyoung fondly shakes his head with a grin.

"My mother taught me and my brother how to skip rocks, and how to get the most skips out of a single pebble." He tosses the smooth stone in his hand before sending it down the water with four, nearly five skips in its wake. "Anything you throw must be thrown with intention, focus, and power. This advice can be applied to any object, but for the sake of everyone’s health and well-being, let’s keep it to rocks on the water."

"If you intend for it to skip decently far, you have to focus on the rock skipping that far and then you wind your arm back, turn your body forty-five degrees and..." Soonyoung reenacts his own words and again, the stone skips five ripples down the path. "Your turn."

You try once and the rock breaks the surface and sinks in its one spot, the small ripple echoing out from the landmark till it fades out. You pout before grabbing a bigger rock this time, rotating it with a single hand as you focus on your well-intended target.

"Hey hey hey, it's alright. Take it slow, you’re winding your arm wrong, think of the pathways that your rock will take from location A, your hand, to location B, the water." He comes behind you and wraps his arms around your own, his body molding to your tense frame.

You can't help but think back to your dance lesson with him, his hands wrapped around yours, guiding you around the room, and just his entire being being far too close to yours. You steady your breath and relax slightly as your heart beat skips faster and faster.

Soonyoung helps you skip the second pebble in your hands and he grins, "See! Three skips, not that bad. It takes more practice... Seokmin and I—after so many days, we could get rocks to skip across this entire pond and reach the other side! We'd just stand at opposite ends and skip rocks back and forth." As you turn your head to listen better, your cheek presses against his and he then realizes how close he is to you and quickly separates himself, "ah, sorry."

His hand is still on your wrist when he pulls away and once he realizes, he sheepishly lets go, mumbling another apology. You don't respond as you stare out into the distance, your body carrying you closer to where the cerulean waves meet the sand, your toes feeling every grain of sand beneath your feet. The refreshing waves feed into your soul, the chill of the water heightening your senses and you just wish you could open your mouth and sing.

But given the current situation, you simply lower yourself and sit right where the water washes on the sand, bending your knees and resting your head on them. Soonyoung apprehensively sits down next to you, removing his shoes and pushing them aside, "so… any reason you love the water?"

You look at him blankly. "I-I mean… you're always here: by the shoreline, by the water's edge, and you always turn up here on the shore. Don't you hate the one thing that separated you from your family?"

That was my own choice, you think. You press your lips together and shake your head, wrapping your arms around your legs tightly and staring up at Soonyoung in question.

He picks at a water-logged branch on the sand, picking at the thin, fraying stalks, "I don't hate the sea exactly, I just… My mother—she was on a ship visiting her own mother, my grandmother but... the ship never made it there." He gulps and blinks away his watery eyes. "It was too dangerous to try and send out another search party after a couple days, so they just gave up."

"I only go across the waters if I absolutely have to… and Chan tries to distract me when I'm on there but even the last time I was on a ship, it didn't end so well." Soonyoung mumbles, his eyes avoiding yours. "After that, I just… keep my distance."

You nod your head and place a hand over Soonyoung's, a sad smile on your lips as he blinks away the glassy stare in his eyes. He flushes and gives you a grateful nod, "my family's been doing well for themselves since it happened… I mean, my brother—technically stepbrother, but we're very close—he's doing well. We mourned together but I wanted to leave town and he let me go. I chose to come here to hide from the memories, the pain, the everything and yet, I'm just one step closer to the thing that took my mother away."

Tears leak from the corner of his eyes and he lets out a slight groan when you rub his shoulder reassuringly. "Sorry, I didn't mean… to overwhelm you with too much." You ardently shake your head and instead wrap your arms around him comfortingly, motioning your hands in small circles on his back.

You lay your head on his shoulder as he takes deep breaths, calming himself and laying his head on top of yours. The waves lap back and forth against the sand in a delicate lullaby, the hum of the waves crashing into each other serenading you to sleep.

Moments pass and you're just so comfortable where you are with him by the water, you're thisclose to falling asleep on Soonyoung's shoulder right before he taps you gently, waking you up with a soft smile.

You stand up slowly and blink away the tired haze from your eyes, not even realizing Soonyoung's wrapped his jacket around your shoulders till you curl into the warmth of the sweater to hide from the chilling winds.

"(y/n), let's go back home." He carefully tangles his hand in yours, tugging you back towards land, back towards the roads leading back to the castle.

You trail behind Soonyoung's dancing figure sleepily, watching him joyfully bend and glide to a song that only he knows. His rambunctious amount of energy keeps you focused on the walk ahead as the night grows longer. The street lamps drown his body in a hollow, yellow light, illuminating his moving silhouette with every turn and hit he commits to.

"(y/n), join me!" Initially, you shake your head while clinging to Soonyoung's jacket but he stops in place, refusing to budge with a persuasive smile as he holds your hands in his.

You slip your arms into the sleeves of the jacket with a bite of your lip and try to replicate the same amount of grace and fluidity he has in your moves, basking in the glow of the streetlights and reaching above you towards the moon. You jump carelessly along the street's path and without a single care in the world—until you land your foot in an awkward position against the road.

You crumple to the ground and there's an aching pain in your ankle, a shot of lightning echoing in the ball of your joint. You cry out, but there's nothing but a strangled groan from your lips that catches Soonyoung's attention.

He quickly rushes over to you and frantically dotes over your foot. "Are you okay? Is it your ankle? Did you just land weird? Can you move it?"

You whimper slightly as you lift your foot and roll it around in a slow circle, the pain still resonating beneath your skin but not feeling it hurt too, too much.

"You might have just landed on it weird, so it might just ache for a bit." He rests your ankle down and plops himself on the road with you, folding his legs underneath himself. "We can just stay here till you're ready."

You try to fight him and prove to him you're alright to walk but putting weight on it hurts even more, causing you to collide back down and into Soonyoung's lap. The sudden weight into his lap surprises him, but his arms reflexively wrap around you.

"(y/n)..." He clears his throat and your warmth in his arms puts him at ease for some reason, confusing him all the while his heart races as you're frozen in his embrace. Soonyoung gulps and he can't help but flicker his eyes down to your lips and back up.

Soonyoung can feel himself gravitating towards you, his head tilting ever so slightly and his eyes slowly drooping closed. You pause before closing the distance, your lips brushing against his tenderly as your hand presses against his chest softly.

The sensation grows a field of butterflies in your stomach, your heartbeat racing as Soonyoung cradles your cheek in one hand, his lips gently fighting against yours in tandem.

"W-we… I can’t do this." Soonyoung stammers while he abruptly stands on his feet. "I’m sorry." You nod remorsefully as he helps you up to your feet, adjusting his jacket on your shoulders before sending you a tight smile. Soonyoung offers his arm to you and you loop your arm through his, staring at the road ahead with your head cast down.

"(y/n)! Soonyoung!" Chan lights up when he sees you both enter the castle doors, "I was about to send out a search party for you both!" The tension between you two is present as Soonyoung wordlessly moves past Chan and up the stairs. "Everything okay?"

You nod and motion to going upstairs to your chambers for the night, rubbing at your head and eyes wearily to escape the questioning—not that you can answer much.

Once you crash into the warm embrace of the cushy blankets and pillows adorning your bed, you want nothing more than to fall asleep just as you are, hugging the jacket around your shoulder closer to you and falling asleep with a smile.

——

The internal battle in your head rages on as you're dressed to the nines in a glowing blue gown, your hair pinned up and decorated with shining diamonds and dainty pearls. Your reflection reminds you of who you were a month ago, as the body of the navy dress clings to your figure and flares out at the ends of the fabric, mimicking the tail of who you once were.

Chan's grand coronation ball granting him the throne meant it was the last day of the month, the last night to relish the two legs you were bewitched with, the last time you'd be able to stand on land.

There was no way you'd be able to fulfill the conditions of your contract, to marry Chan and become his queen? Not when you were in love with someone else. It'd be wrong. It'd be downright unfair and cruel.

If tonight was to be your last night on land, you'd spend it cheerfully, you'd spend it as if you were coming back the next day.

You wipe a single tear trailing down your cheek and turn to the room you called your own over the past month, everything neatly in place and just as the moment you entered it. Your satchel rests on the covers of the bed, the flap pushed back and exposing your treasured items brought from home. You rummage through and find the necklace you unearthed forever ago, the star pendant still as brilliant as you found it under the water, if anything it was shining brighter than ever.

You clasp the necklace around your neck and rub the star thoughtfully with your thumb, a sigh escaping your lips as you notice the picture peeking out of your satchel.

The family in the photo beams up at you and you're instantly reminded of the day you found it under the waters, smothering the photo into your satchel just as Seungkwan went on reprimanding you. You stare at the two boys in the picture, both proudly smiling with shaggy dark hair and their mother grinning proudly with her arms around their shoulders.

You hope you'd do the woman justice in wearing her necklace, in keeping it safe around your own neck rather than having it lost in the sea forever.

A thud knocks on your door and you see Soonyoung on the other side when you crack the door ever so slightly. He clears his throat, "(y/n), would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me down the staircase?"

Through the ajar door, you notice Soonyoung dressed up with tons of medals and pins adorning his chest, one of which is a gold plated crest of a shield right over his heart. The crest reminded you of the one you had seen all over the flags inside the castle, except that was Chan's family's royal crest that had been passed down from generation to generation, signifying their noble heritage.

This one on Soonyoung’s chest looked completely different from Chan’s but yet very similar.

"(y/n)? Are you ready?" Soonyoung waves his hand in front of your face with a small smile, laughing at your blatant staring. "What? You've never seen me all dressed up? Are you implying I look like a slob when not like this?"

You yank the door open and lightly hit his shoulder, taking offense to the words he's putting in your mouth. "I'm kidding!"

Soonyoung stares at you in amazement as you shut your door, a smile on his lips, once he quickly bows and offers his arm to you, "May please I escort you down?"

You curtsy in your gown as best you can and loop your arm through his own, matching his pace before you two stop at the top of the staircase, an announcer waiting by with a microphone in hand.

Just the sight of the hundreds of people standing about in the ballroom with their eyes on you makes you feel right at home—or right back in your home. The amount of times you’ve been required to attend your kingdom's royal balls or sit in the royal booth with your father during simple processions and proceedings has conditioned you to straighten your spine, square your shoulders and smile abashly at the string of politicians and powerful figures in attendance.

But the unfamiliar eyes of all the land people, of royalty above the surface has you quivering.

"And now presenting Pri—"

You block out the announcer's voice just as Soonyoung nudges his elbow and turns his head towards you slightly, his voice whispering in your ear, "These steps are steeper than normal when you have hundreds of people watching—take your time. You got me."

Just a single look at him loosens all the tension in your body and you can't help but feel unafraid with him by your side.

"—escorting Lady (y/n)!" You present your best smile at the sound of your name and Soonyoung nods to you to start walking down slowly, going at your pace and maintaining a strong anchor for you to rest on.

He switches hands with you to rest his arm slightly above your waist, his fingers hovering right at your hip but not touching you at all as you both make it to the floor and bow to the royal public and wait along the side.

All the bodies surrounding you seem to be of royalty from all over the country, men and women dressed up in their best clothes and glistening crowns and medals adorning their sashes. They all hold themselves rather highly, some smiling out of courtesy and relaxing their faces once you make eye contact and some holding stern looks of regality and nodding in acknowledgement.

There's a thunderous round of applause when the crown prince to the throne is announced and Chan makes his way down the golden staircase with the woman you remember from his dance lessons on his arm, an adoring smile on his face and his shoulders proudly square.

The woman is elegantly dressed in a matching gold and white dress that captures her as a beautiful queen-to-be, a radiant, mature aura that plays off Chan's charms.

You turn to Soonyoung while connecting your eyes to Chan and the future queen, to which he whispers, "Chan's tutor's the second daughter from another kingdom, a lesser known kingdom, but a kingdom nonetheless. Since she's always been by his side, they've been fond of one another and Chan needed a queen, so there you have it. Proposed last night in the drawing room."

For some reason, the news isn't that all heartbreaking to you. If anything, you feel… elated for Chan, happy for him and his new queen.

Chan’s suit looks tailored perfectly to his figure, golden pins and medals strapped to his chest next to his family crest plated right over his heart. He welcomes you with open arms before bowing to you, "(y/n)! You look... magnificent."

You blush under his gaze and Chan quickly greets Soonyoung before being swept away by the masses of royal men and women wanting his attention for a talk or a dance. Just as the royal coronation starts and the music begins to fill the hall, a man steps in front of you with a bold smirk.

"Excuse me, Lady (y/n)." The strange man bows before you and takes your hand in his, kissing the back of your knuckles daintily. "I am Prince Mingyu of the Second Kingdom, would you be so kind as to honor me in a dance?"

You look at Soonyoung and he nods, staring into your eyes reassuringly. "It’s your choice." He leans in closer to your ear, "Mingyu’s a good man, I trust him. Just be careful because he’s rather clumsy sometimes."

You snicker before calming your laugh, taking Mingyu's hand and swiftly moving to the center of the room, joining other couples in the song and dance of the night.

You manage to get through the dance with nods and smiles answering Mingyu’s abundance of questions for you, most of which he answers himself talking in circles. You know your eyes are not focused on the man dancing with you at all, moreso trying to find the one man you wished to be dancing with, the man who taught you how to dance and skip rocks, the man who managed to take your breath away in a matter of weeks.

The song ends thankfully and you bow to Mingyu for the dance, him regally floating off to find another partner and you making a straight line to collect yourself a glass of water by the tables.

As you linger on the outskirts of the ball, you overhear the politicians and figureheads speak and laugh freely, sipping on their flutes of champagne as they gossip about the newest, ongoings of the world and who's courting who behind closed doors.

Their etiquette and speech reminds you of royals back in your kingdom under the surface, all the merpeople with their high-ranking titles and grand personalities. You've had to sit in on countless dinners and balls and ceremonies recounting every small detail about the northern kingdom and their lack of sustenance growing in their fields, the southeastern kingdom's gossip about their prince flirting with all the royal princesses in the east, and most of all, your own kingdom's issues about all the toxic waste and malicious dumping from the surface in your territory.

At least with Chan passing the newest set of anti-dumping laws on his land, your kingdom can rest peacefully without inhaling toxins polluting the waters or finding waste settled outside their homes.

And in at least two hours, you'll have to leave the surface and become a prisoner to the sea witch for all eternity to come.

"(y/n)? Are you okay?" Soonyoung clears his throat and you nearly choke on your water as he appears before you. You nod and he warmly offers you his hand with a grand flourish of his arm, "(y/n), may I have this dance?"

With your hand in his, Soonyoung leads you straight into the middle of the dancefloor and formally bows before you, stepping up to you proudly and wrapping one hand around your waist and the other in your hand.

Once you take Soonyoung's hand and place your other on his shoulder, you're well aware of all the eyes on you, all the whispering and confused glances thrown in your direction. "Hey hey hey, eyes up here. If you're gonna step on my feet, at least look at me."

You immediately look to Soonyoung with a shake of your head and he smirks, "Then prove it to me. Time to show off those dancing skills of yours."

Soonyoung carries you around the room and leads the way, a proud smile on his face as you keep up with the rhythm of the music, the enchanting melody playing in both your ears. He squeezes your hand in his and you can see a slight blush on his cheeks when he makes eye contact with you, the tips of his ears a flying red color.

He leans in closer as you spiral into him, your back pressed against his chest and his hand holding yours tightly, "(y/n), you're beautiful."

Your heart flutters as he spins you around once more and gently releases your hand from his, bowing to you once again as the music dies down and there's a round of applause for the musicians coming from all around.

Soonyoung claps in unison but his eyes never leave you, a fond look of amazement and wonder before you as your heart skips a beat again. You can't help but want to melt into him and forget about what's to become of you, but you can't.

His smile contorts into a look of confusion as you stand there silently before you shake your head and wrap your arms around him tightly, pouring all you can into this single hug, this final encounter with Soonyoung.

A tear trails down your face as you pull away from him, a smile blooming on your face. Soonyoung immediately wipes them away and holds your face in his hands, "(y/n), what’s wrong? Is everything alright? Why are you crying?"

You notice the clock ticking away behind him as an announcer commands the attention of the entire ballroom, averting your eyes to him and his announcement of the crowning ceremony commencing in several minutes.

Your feet carry you out of the center of the ballroom and towards the outskirts of the room, ignoring Soonyoung's calls for your name, looking extremely concerned for you as a man walks up to you two. "Sir, Prince Chan is requesting your presence across the room. The crowning ceremony is going to begin soon."

"I'll be there in a moment." His eyes never leave yours even as he dismisses the man, his hands holding yours. "(y/n), what's wrong?"

You shake your head and his expression doesn’t change, still asking you softly what’s wrong. The staff from before returns and reminds Soonyoung sternly of the time before he pulls you further aside.

"Stay here?" Soonyoung squeezes your hand, but you shake your head apologetically. "Please? I'll find you right after the ceremony, promise. I have something to ask of you."

You try to shake your head no but Soonyoung’s eyes plead with you to stay. "Promise me, (y/n)?" He holds out his pinkie to you and you let out a smile despite the tears leaking out. You decide to carefully wrap your finger around his and just as the staff pulls his shoulder once more, Soonyoung nodding as he backs away compliantly, "I'll find you."

Soonyoung disappears into the crowd and the world feels so much colder, so much smaller once your hand falls to your side. The bells toll once again and you can't escape the ticking clock reminding you of how much less and less time you have left.

You begin to make your way towards the main exit of the ballroom, the ends of your gown gathered in your hands tightly before you hear your name called out behind you. You search around for the voice but it’s not at all familiar to you as someone races up to you and formally bows.

"Yes! Lady (y/n), correct? I apologize for the commotion but I wanted to have a moment of your time before you left, it’s a pleasure to meet you," a man chastely presses a kiss to the back of your hand before standing up straight once more. "I heard you’re a woman of few words and yet you’ve managed to steal away my brother’s heart. And that’s saying a lot considering he says a mouthful."

You tilt your head in confusion at the brown haired man, his face unfamiliar to you. His formalwear is almost identical to the ones you've seen all night, save for the crest over his heart that looks almost exactly like Soonyoung's. "Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Lee Seokmin, I'm Soonyoung's brother—technically stepbrother, but we're very close."

Seokmin endearingly rambles as you tensely chuckle, your eyes distracted staring across the room at the clock nearing the last fifteen minutes of the night. He clears his throat to gather your attention and your eyes snap to his.

There's something about his eyes that seem very familiar, but yet you can't recall him at all.

"Pardon me, but where did you get that necklace?" Seokmin's eyes are glued to the pendant around your neck. "That star, it looks… beautiful."

Your hand goes to the necklace and you press your lips into a small smile, vaguely noticing the glazed look in his eyes as you take a defensive step back when he reaches for the pendant.

"Seokmin, what are you doing?" Soonyoung cuts in front of you defensively, pulling you behind him in concern. The clock's hands shift once more as you look in confusion between the two men.

"Sorry, I-I thought…" Seokmin pulls Soonyoung away from you and whispers to him, "her necklace, it looks exactly like Mom's necklace! Did you even see it? I'm sure that's her necklace, but I haven't seen it since the day she left. It should be sitting at the bottom of the ocean."

"It should be, shouldn't it…" Soonyoung mumbles decisively, he turns to you but you've already disappeared. "Where did (y/n) go?" Soonyoung scans the room and hurriedly rushes out to the steps of the palace, looking left and right for you. Seokmin follows him and stands on the steps, staring at Soonyoung's panicked state. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing!" Seokmin raises his hands innocently. "All I said was that her necklace looked familiar, that it's beautiful! I didn't say anything else to her… she looked out of it for some reason, is something wrong? Where do you think she's gone?"

Soonyoung has a stroke of realization as he rushes down the stairs of the palace, ignoring his brother calling his name as well as Chan's staff shouting for him. He nearly rounds the corner before running into a security detail posted outside the castle's doors, about to run off into the street but pausing when he notices a weapon on his belt.

"Can I borrow this?"

——

You slowly make your way down the sandy banks of the ocean, the creme-colored moonlight lighting the way as the sand filters through and around your feet. The water that flows around your feet is shockingly cold, but the chills send a sense of familiarity through your spine.

Off in the distance, you notice a cluster of water take form and there she is, the sea witch to whom you bound your soul to. She gives you a resounding welcome, "Why there she is! The future queen uniting both the land and sea at once—cheers to a bright future! Oh, wait," she despicably pauses. "Something isn’t right here, is it? Tell me what happened, princess." She asks in faux innocence.

You grit your teeth and keep your head low, staring at your toes curling around the wet, sticky sand and watching the water wash over them. Above you, there's a blanket of rain descending from the sky, a light mist turning into heavy raindrops. "Silly me! How can you tell me if you don’t even have a voice, here—open up." A whip of water wraps around you and your head is tilted back, your vision filled with the sea witch pouring the essence of a golden tube into your mouth.

Your throat immediately feels dry and raspy as you gasp for air, the whip of water releasing you and your knees buckling under you in shock. You begin to cough and you hear the audible sound of your voice coming through once you pop your ears.

"(y/n)! (y/n)!"

You hear a disruption in the cacophony of the waves around you, turning your head to see Soonyoung rush into the water, his decorated jacket abandoned on the sand as the waves angrily slosh around his hurried footsteps. His white shirt is already soaked from the downpour of rain and the water crashing back and forth from the shore.

"Please, just one moment! One moment and you can take her." Soonyoung pleads, tears in his eyes as he desperately reaches for you, his hands practically clawing his way through the water. "Please! If she’s already doomed to be yours, let her have a chance to say goodbye to me! Please, I beg of you! Just one minute with (y/n)."

The sea witch scans Soonyoung and you swear there's nothing good in the brief twinkle in her eye but you're dropped from her grasp and into water. "Fine, peasant boy. One minute and that’s it." She sneers, "Say your goodbyes."

As you resurface from the water, there's a heavy feeling beneath you and there's a flick of your tail breaking the surface and keeping you afloat. You swim your way back up the shoreline, your tail a shimmering cobalt shade in the dim moonlight. You're immediately wrapped into Soonyoung's arms as he stands solidly in the shallow water, attempting to pour your warmth into his shivering body. "Soonyoung—what are you doing? You shouldn’t be here. You should be back at the castle."

His eyes light up the very second your voice trickles out of your throat, the saccharine melody familiar to him. "It's you. It's always been you."

Although your voice sets him at ease, he can still feel his heart race urgently, his time with you ticking. "I knew something was wrong earlier, everything tonight felt like you were saying goodbye but I can’t let you go. Not when I just found you."

"It’s been you all along, you saved me then and you’ve saved me now, (y/n). I-I love you, I know it’s too much too fast, but I can’t deny how I feel about you. Every touch, every look, everything spoke a thousand words and you didn’t need to say a single one," he confesses. "You can’t leave—not now. I don’t know what kind of deal you have with her but I don’t care."

He carefully shifts away a damp lock of your hair matted against your skin, staring into your eyes tenderly, as if a single blink and you’d disappear right in front of him.

"Marry me." Your eyes widen in shock as he breathes out his proposal to you, "I-I don’t care if you’re a human or a mermaid or a squid or a fish," you tearily laugh at him as he stares at you in amazement, "I want you, voice or no voice, legs or tail, I don't care—I want all of you if you’d have all of me. Marry me, (y/n). In sickness or in health, hell—even if you disappear right now, I'll forever cherish the moment you've said 'yes' to me."

"But—" You shake your head in disbelief and Soonyoung wraps his hand in yours, his eyes locked solely on you. The tears welling up in his sharp eyes meld with the raindrops falling all around you both and just staring into his eyes, your breath is taken away. "Yes Soonyoung—for rich or for poor."

"For underwater or on shore, I’ll forever be yours." He finishes his vow by holding up his pinkie finger to you, making you gasp in delight once you connect your finger with his.

Your lips touch his and suddenly all your worries melt away, all your tears feel the same as the raindrops striking your face and you’re suddenly stuck in a world where it’s just you and him—the man you completely and whole-heartedly fell in love with.

There’s an agonizing pain that pulls your attention away from Soonyoung and you feel it down in your tail, the same excruciating feeling of your tail splitting into two. You dare to look down and there’s the water rising and falling on the skin of your bare legs, the sea foam prickling your newfound limbs with their sudsy bubbles, the icy droplets of rain pounding against your skin.

You don’t even have a moment to rejoice when a voice tears you apart, "W-what? How did you—" The sea witch plunges toward you and disdainfully picks you up by the shoulders with the creation of two large waves. "H-he is not the crown prince of this kingdom! You betrayed me, Princess!"

Soonyoung stands above the water and madly screams, "I am a prince! I am Prince Kwon Soonyoung of the Third Kingdom, successor to my late mother’s throne! I am and always have been!"

"How dare you!" The suction of the witch's tentacle rapidly wraps around your ankle and drags you back into the water, your hands fervently reaching out to Soonyoung.

Soonyoung rises from the water and lunges himself towards the sea witch, a dagger aimed toward her before a tentacle takes a hold of him by the waist.

"You really believe that small dagger is supposed to hurt me? You fool!" The sea witch snarls as the knife drops into the water, washed away into the waves.

"Maybe in exchange for your legs, dear Princess—I’ll take your dearly beloved. I’ll take him on a tour of your home! Yes! The King would surely want to see what kind of man you’ve chosen to marry! A land dweller! The ugliest of men—no, a monster among men!"

"They’re not monsters—they never were! The only monster here is you!"

Soonyoung points at the hilt of the small blade being carried closer to the shoreline, "(y/n)! The dagger!"

You quickly push yourself up to your feet and run towards the blade, your legs feeling rigid and sore from your recent transformation. There’s a cold, slimy limb wrapped around your ankle and you fall to the ground, seeing one of the sea witch’s tentacles tethering itself to your leg and pulling you away from the sand, away from the base of the dagger. "Princess! You made a deal! Don’t you know if you break the rules, there are consequences?"

You turn and see Soonyoung wrapped in her clutches, his body bound by the sea witch’s limbs and yet, he still is trying to kick and claw his way out to get to you. Your heart crumples as he struggles against the powerful waves and you can't bear to even think of him captive under the sea witch's rule, yanked down to the waters you resided.

"Y-you’re right. There are consequences to broken rules." You breathe out, steadying yourself against the heavy descent of rain falling all about you. "I’ll go with you if you let Soonyoung go. I'll honor my contract to you."

Soonyoung calls out your name and violently thrashes about, the frigid rain blending his tears into watery raindrops. "It’s okay, Soonyoung." You approach him as he's lowered in front of you and you reach out to touch his cheek, "it's okay. I'll be okay."

You press your lips against his, pouring everything you can into him before you feel a slimy tentacle wrap around your legs and drag you into the water, now a spiraling whirlpool into the deeper trenches of the ocean. The farther the sea witch pulls you, the deeper the whirlpool becomes, and the more the debris gathers into the sea.

The sand and gravel around you rushes into the whirlpool and there's a glow of something in the waters—the handle of the dagger glittering against the sea witch's bewitchment of the waves.

You stretch yourself as far as you can, wriggling your fingers in reach for the dagger as the water floods itself around you. You kick your legs angrily and push off the tentacles, launching yourself for the knife and wrapping your fingers around the handle firmly.

Another arm wraps around your shoulders and you instinctively fight against it, puncturing the slimy arm with the dagger precisely. The sea witch screams vehemently and you take the moment to swim closer and puncture her in the chest. 

The dagger settles into the sea witch’s body and suddenly the whirlpool settles as well, black liquid trickling out of her wound as she crumples into the waves, her entire being seeping into dark seafoam and melding with the ocean waters.

Your body desperately urges you for a mere second of air as you work and fight your way up from the trenches, shutting your eyes and letting your mind take over once you break the surface.

The ocean now reflects the color of the navy blue skies, a cloudless night since the sea witch's evils have died off with her. You bob your head above the water and start for the shoreline when you hear a familiar voice yell for you, a voice desperate to find you.

"(y/n)!" Soonyoung's voice is hoarse as he stands waist-deep in the waters, waddling deeper as he rushes towards you.

"Finally." You gasp as you wrap your arms around him, a sense of relief filling you up as you drink him in again. He holds you close to him and clings to you like the very water you come from, that you need to survive.

"Finally, my queen." Soonyoung grins as lifts you out of the water, your laughter clear as night whilst his arms stay wrapped securely around your waist as you slide lower and closer to him, a smile on your lips once you kiss under the glow of the moonlight.

The water surrounding you and him is all but calm—the moonlight flickering against the splashing of water towards one another and the peals of giggles and whispers between you both.

Your feet are dancing against the wet pavement as Soonyoung's jacket rests on your shoulders, his sash tied to keep the article from revealing your ripped dress and his fingers interlocked with yours. The medals on his jacket are hanging on by their single pins, some misshapen and fallen off, but you know he could care less about it. You cling to his arm and stop in your tracks, "you know what I just thought about?"

He tilts his head just enough and his face is illuminated even in the dark, his brown eyes focused solely on you, along with a questioning hum on his lips.

"Before I left the coronation, you promised you would find me… and you did."

If you could keep that exact smile on Soonyoung's face forever, you would. If you could hold his hand forever, you would. If you could be with him forever, you would.

Maybe this is what it meant to be part of this world—to feel this, to feel this way towards someone, towards anyone.

Soonyoung tugs you closer and smiles into you, "I always will."

.

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Yancy x Illinois - First Impressions Aren’t Always the Best

I decided to try properly writing Yanois, just to see how I’d manage it. After rewatching Illinois’ scenes, I think he would get on the nerves of the Yancy I write at first.

Word Count 2,122

(Read more because Illinois talks so much...)

-

Happy Trails Penitentiary was renowned for its rehabilitation initiatives. They had a wide variety of classes and visitors to help prisoners. Educational courses, chances to learn new skills, pen pal projects. Many prisoners would never have the opportunity for such experiences, and it was an integral part of helping them prepare for a better life outside of prison when their sentence was finished.

There was one visitor that most prisoners in Yancy’s ‘Gang’ adored. His name was Illinois, a renowned adventurer and archaeologist. Between his job in the university and research trips, he only had time to visit once every few months. It worked in his favour, as those that wanted to visit were able to to hear the various stories that Illinois was more than happy to tell. Not only that, it would encourage the small ‘fan club’ among the younger prisoners.

It was one of the few events that Yancy avoided. Something about Illinois rubbed him the wrong way. He was so arrogant and cocky, acting like the world revolved around him. It wasn’t an act, either. Yancy had spotted Illinois speaking to the Warden on his first visit two years earlier, and he acted the exact same way as he did in the talk that happened that day. After that, Yancy decided he didn’t want anything to do with the adventurer. But if Illinois were to ever become an inmate? Yancy would make sure Illinois had the snot beaten out of him within the first week.

Unfortunately, a lot of the Gang were of the opposite view, especially those around Yancy’s age. To them, Illinois walked straight out of an adventure movie and lived the ideal life. What prisoner didn’t dream of going exploring in uncharted territories? It meant that they would frequently share Illinois’ tales in rec yard when he came to visit. Yancy would roll his eyes, but keep quiet. Let them have their fun.

Today was the day that Illinois visited the prison. It had been over three months since the last visit, so there was an excited buzz among individuals in the Gang. Yancy spent the morning bracing himself. There was a talk after lunch that the others would go to, which would mean the rest of the afternoon and evening would be nothing but historical chatter and “Illinois is so cool!”. He would grumble, but he would keep that to himself. It wasn’t fair to deflate their excitement. He went to the library, found some random book and focused on that for the day. Then, once they had their excitement, it would die down and Yancy could enjoy more casual conversation.

Which was the plan… Until Bam-Bam pleaded for him to go to the last talk of the day. It turned out that his shift clashed with the talk everyone else they knew went to, and he didn’t want to go alone. Begrudgingly, Yancy closed the book, returned it to the shelf, and followed Bam-Bam. A flaw of being a loyal friend was knowing when to swallow your pride and do something you would rather not do.

-

When you go to something with low expectations, it can be incredibly difficult to feel the time was used in a worthwhile manner. Some might have memories of a teacher they hated, or a family gathering they had been dreading. This was a similar position to what Yancy found himself in. One of the ‘classrooms’ had been adjusted slightly to allow various displays to take center stage, with the chairs in neat rows in front of it. Bam-Bam and Yancy claimed two seats at the back, allowing the greaser to slouch in the chair with his arms crossed. Then, once more prisoners had arrived, the talk began.

On and on Illinois went, droning endlessly in that slow drawl. Yancy wished he had a TV remote to speed up the talking a fraction. Was Illinois focused on making sure everyone could understand him, or did he want to prolong the joy of hearing himself talk? It might have been more tolerable if Bam-Bam wasn’t genuinely engrossed in the lecture. They could have made amusing comments throughout. Instead, Yancy was stuck. Sure, history was interesting, but Illinois really drove home the stereotype of boring history teachers. The ‘adventures’ even sounded cliché and fake. Maybe he should have taken the book with him after all...

A painfully slow half hour passed. Once the talk was over, Illinois would literally open the floor to the other prisoners. The chairs would be pushed aside and those that wanted to look at the items Illinois brought were welcome to do so. Yancy was dragged along to view the pieces. Most of the articles were dated to be approximately eight thousand years old. What caught Bam-Bam’s attention was a stone carving that vaguely resembled a cat.

“Ahhh, I see the ‘White Jaguar’ has caught your attention.” Yancy had to repress a shudder at the smooth voice interrupting their own questions back and forth. Illinois stepped over, resting an arm against the perspex container. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? A miracle we even found her in the first place. She was why I wasn’t able to visit like I said I would last month.” Bam-Bam’s eager question had Illinois chuckle and shake his hand dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure you two gentlemen have much better things to do than hear about how I nearly lost my right hand in my most recent adventure.” When Bam-Bam insisted otherwise, Illinois smirked (and Yancy nearly gagged).

“If you insist. While on our recent dig, I noticed one of the ruins had a floor panel that looked a little different from the rest. It took a little persuasion, but I got that pesky stone up. There, sprawled out before me, was a staircase leading down into the earth. I picked up one of the torches and made my way down. Slowly, I delved deeper into the darkness. One step gave way under me to set off a series of poison-dipped darts, but I was able to dodge them all without breaking a sweat.” Illinois continued, dramatically regaling every single trap that he encountered until he found the White Jaguar. When taking everything around it, he surmised that the owner of the house had been a thief. The jaguar motif was familiar, as he had noticed something similar in a nearby cave that had been repurposed at the time as a sacred spot.

“- Now, this heart of this cave was still guarded by ancient jaguar spirits. They rattled the large statues as I approached, obviously sensing the treasure I carried. In the middle, there was a jaguar’s head carved out of stone. Its jaw was open wide and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was just the right spot for this precious lady. But then, skeletons of what I assume were magic users from an era long gone by pounced and tried to wrestle the statue off me, but I was too fast for them. At last, I reached the carved head, put the White Jaguar in the mouth… and the stone head moved, trapping my arm in a ferocious bite!” He gestured to the cloth wrapped around his right wrist. It was unwrapped just enough to show the healing bite marks. “It had the strength to bite it clean off, but relented when it realised what I had done by offering my arm as blood payment to return -”

“Wait wait wait.” Yancy’s interruption had Bam-Bam elbow him, but it didn’t stop the objection. “That can’t be right. If youse managed to bring this back to where it’s meant to be, why the fuck is it here?”

“An excellent question. This is my recreation of it. I am no thief. I return artefacts to where they belong. Archaeology has a rotten connection with thievery, and I try to rectify the mistakes of my predecessors.”

“So then this entire thing could be bullshit!” Yancy scoffed. “Bam-Bam, this guy just got bitten by someone’s dog and has made this pile of baloney to hide that.”

“Are you accusing me of being a liar?”

“Well, I ain’t calling you a ‘truther’, that’s for sure!”

Yancy was ready for a proper argument. In fact, he was hoping for one. Instead… Illinois laughed, and it wasn’t that typical ‘cocky chuckle’. It was a bright, genuine laugh. He could almost see Bam-Bam go starry-eyed at such a rare moment. Typical Yancy. Getting more attention from Illinois when he wanted to rile him up.

“I suppose it all does sound rather suspicious when you put it that way. Let me show you something.” Illinois gestured for the pair to follow him toward a display of photographs. Instead of pointing to these, he instead reached for his briefcase. A small photo album was pulled out. Yancy noticed that it was dated three months prior. While Illinois flipped through it, both prisoners could see what looked like an area that had been dug up. It matched the pictures in front of them of an excavation site. At last, Illinois found what he was looking for.

“One Guardian Jaguar, complete with the White Jaguar in its mouth. As you can see, the teeth have fresh blood on them. It was an… Oddly tranquil sight, despite the unfortunate situation.”

“So then why act like these are the real deal? People just take youse’s word for it?”

“Normally those that attend my talks know that what I show are my artistic recreations for purely educational purposes. I suppose I do take for granted that those who attend here are invested regulars.” Illinois gave a small shrug. “It’s an easy mistake to forget to remind people who might be new to my talks. I’m sorry if you thought I was a fraud, but I am the real deal. Too good to be true, yet here I am.”

“Yeah yeah, ‘sucks that I’m perfect as shit’, I get it. Least you knows not to make that mistake again.” Yancy rocked back on his heel with the intention of turning and walking away.

“Now now. I can’t let you walk off like that. Take this.” Another item was pulled out of his briefcase. “I made this smaller model of the White Jaguar as a ‘first draft’. I was intending on using it as motivation to my first-year students but… I think it should stay here with you.” Illinois took the opportunity to reach for Yancy’s hand. The small clay model was gently placed in it before Illinois curled Yancy’s fingers over it to keep it in place. His hands stayed where they were as he continued, “We think the White Jaguar was a symbol of good fortune. Perhaps it might bring you some good luck.” He smiled at Yancy, only to have the moment broken by the guard announcing that there were five minutes before the prisoners had to return to their cells for the afternoon count. Yancy took the chance to quickly leave the room without as much as a ‘goodbye’. At least his friend, who introduced himself as Bam-Bam, quickly thanked Illinois before darting out.

A few more questions were asked of him by other prisoners and curious staff; and then it was time to tidy up to bring everything back to the university. It was only when he reached the White Jaguar model did Illinois hesitate. There was something about that abrasive prisoner he couldn’t put his finger on. Was it because he seemed uninterested in the adventurer? Or was there something else? It was a rare moment that Illinois wished he’d had an excuse to chat to the prisoner longer. Maybe not here, but somewhere quieter. Just the two of them.

Huh… Was this what an attraction felt like? He joked about others falling in love with him so often, he wasn’t sure if this was payback for never returning interest in others. He was drawn toward a prisoner that seemed keen to dismiss his hard work and reputation. And worse! Illinois didn’t even know his name!

Then again… A good adventurer always loves the thrill of a mystery. Maybe he could try and find that prisoner next time he visited. Now that the university was open again, he’d be able to drop by more frequently…

--

For what it was worth, Yancy also had a mystery on his hands.

Namely, how to get away from Bam-Bam - who would not SHUT UP about their prolonged conversation with Illinois - and half the gang - who were incredibly jealous Yancy got a gift from the Illinois!

He dropped his head against the chow hall table with a low ‘thunk’. This was the opposite of getting the others to stop talking about Illinois around him!

[lils-writes-stuff]

The Good Earth

Spencer Reid x reader

Best Years Season 2 part two | part one | season one

summary: while in oregon, reader suspects somethings up with spencer

warning: normal criminal minds things, minor angst

A/N: based on season 8 episode 5; there’s some JJ x reader moments in here that I love

 Y/N walked into the kitchen of her and Spencer’s apartment. Her boots clicked against the hardwood floor as she moved swiftly to make sure she had everything in her go-bag. Spencer had already left to head into work early that morning to work on some paperwork he hadn’t finished that was due. 

 This was a frequent thing he had been doing lately, and at first, Y/N wasn’t concerned, but he had been doing it for about two weeks now. As a girl would do, her first thoughts as to what he could be doing were anything but good, but then she thought about who Spencer was.  

 She was muttering under her breath items she had, “Keys, wallet, go-bag, laptop…” 

 Her routine check she had going was interrupted when her phone pinged. 

 An email from Strauss. 

 With an eye roll, she picked up her phone to open it. Strauss had been sending her emails with different options for moves or details about cases they had. It was annoying, really, she was baiting her. 

 Y/N quickly closed the email and put her phone in her pocket. She grabbed her go-bag and headed into the office.

------------ 

 “What do you mean, he’s not going? Every kid loves trick-or-treating,” Penelope exclaimed to JJ about Henry. 

 “Henry’s scared,” JJ replied. “One of his little buddies told him Halloween was the only time when all the real monsters come out because they can blend in.”  

 “Never thought about that,” Rossi shrugged. 

 “Good monster strategy,” Y/N sang as she walked over to them, hearing the tail of the conversation. 

 Penelope chuckled, “You did tell him it wasn’t true, right?” 

 “Of course I did, but he’s convinced,” JJ shook her head as she replied.

 “Childhood fears are resistant to adult logic, sometimes you just have to wait it out,” Rossi told JJ in the hope to reassure her. 

 “For how long?” She asked, leaning on her knees. 

 “Well, if he’s twenty-three and this still worries you, you may have a problem,” Rossi answered. 

 JJ, Y/n, and Penelope let out a light laugh.

 “Well, see, the thing is, I think I am partly to blame,” JJ confessed as she stood up from her chair. 

 “How so?” Y/N asked as the four of them began to walk to the round table room. 

 “Well, the other night Will and I were up late, we were having some wine, talking about some of the cases we’ve worked on-” JJ let out a sigh as she continued her confession- “And at one point, I said I felt like there was no end to all the monsters walking around, and…” 

 “Henry sneaked into the room to listen to the grownups,” Rossi said, finishing the predictable end to her story. 

 “Yeah, we need a cone of silence for our house,” JJ said which made Penelope and Y/N chuckle. 

 They walked into the round table room and took their seat. Y/N took hers in her usual spot next to Spencer. 

 “Good morning,” He said, for the first time being able to talk to her this morning. 

 “Morning,” she smiled as she sat in her seat. 

 “Those of you who like a good mystery, please unleash your inner Agatha Christie, ‘cause this one’s a real humdinger,” Penelope opened before she grabbed her remote and brought up the case. 

 “Gary Ellard, Barry Deaver, Paul Hicks, Terry Rodgers. Over the course of the last month and a half, these four men have gotten in their cars in La Grande, Oregon, and drove into the never-to-be-seen-agains-Ville. Poof, gone. The latest victim Terry Rodgers disappeared twenty-four hours ago.”

 “Forensic evidence points us anywhere?” Y/N asked. 

 “Uh, point would imply there is evidence, and there is no evidence, at least for the first three victims,” Penelope answered. 

 “No forensics, no witnesses, no ransom demands, maybe these guys just voluntarily decided to hit the road,” Derek pondered. 

 “Four sudden disappearances in a community this small-- this isn’t about seeking greener pastures,” Rossi argued.

 “And based on last known sightings, we’re dealing with a sizable geographic area,” Hotch added to Rossi’s argument. 

 “He’s efficient and well organized, not easy to make four people vanish and stay vanished,” Y/N commented as she leaned onto her arms on the table.

 “It has been done before, though,” Spencer spoke. “Political kidnappings frequently require holding multiple adults simultaneously.” 

 “Or they’re already dead,” Rossi countered. “Nothing says ‘can’t be found’ like a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere.” 

 “Assuming they are alive, how is the unsub controlling them?” Blake asked. 

 “And for what purpose?” JJ posed her own question to Blakes. 

 “The time between abductions is shortening with each victim, wheels up in 30.” 

------------  

 “Garcia, anything on the last victim, Terry Rodgers?” Hotch asked as she answered the video call. 

 “Only that he’s unemployed and lives in a cabin in the woods, but primitive, like no flush toilet primitive,” Penelope answered. 

 “That doesn’t fit the victimology of the other three. Ellard coached track and field at a local college, Deaver's small business owner, and Hicks is an attorney.” Derek read off the file in his hand. 

 “All married with young families,” JJ added. 

 “Another difference-- the first three victims were all born and raised in La Grande,” Rossi added another difference. 

 “Yeah, Terry Rodgers only moved to town a couple of months ago,” Y/N added as she looked at her file. 

 “Do we know where from, Garcia?” Spencer asked. 

 “Rhode Island, though there’s a five-month gap between Terry being in Rhode Island and then arriving in Oregon,” Penelope answered as she looked at the timeline. “Where he was and what he was doing is a big fat blank.”

 “It says here that vomit was found in the vicinity of his abduction,” Derek noted as he looked at the crime scene report. 

 “Mm, thank you for reminding me of that disgusting detail, Dreamy D. Yes, that vomit has been collected and is being analyzed as we speak, and I am very grateful that I have this job and someone else has that one,” Penelope answered with disgust for the topic. 

 “Rodgers is the obvious anomaly of the four, but there’s no apparent overlap between any of the victims,” Spencer said after he finished an in the head analysis. 

 “It’s almost like the unsub was selecting his targets at random,” Blake said as she agreed with Spencer. 

 “Blake, you and Morgan go talk to the families of the victims. See if there’s something that links them that’s not on paper,” Hotch ordered and the two agents nodded. 

 “Dave, Reid, and I will go to the abduction site. Y/N, you and JJ go to Terry Rodgers’ cabin,” Hotch gave his final orders as the plane was just about to land. 

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

  The cabin was dark and smelt damp. Truely, it was very off the grid style. 

 “Besides the outhouse, this cabin isn’t really so primitive like Garcia let on,” Y/N said as she began to look through some of Terry Rodgers’ things. 

 “Okay,” JJ sighed from her squatted position in front of Terry’s books. “Economics, Philosophy...political theory, not exactly breezy, take to the beach reading.”

 “Hm, sounds like something Spence would take if he liked the beach,” Y/N laughed as she thought about Spencer at the beach. Looking like a fish out of water. 

 “He doesn’t like the beach? Why’s that?” JJ laughed as she opened a book. 

 “Something about sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, you know, Spencer Reid reasons for not going to the beach,” Y/N said as she remembered the reasons Spencer told her. 

 JJ let out a laugh as she continued to look through the books. 

 “Speaking of Spencer, do you know why he’s been getting to work so early lately? He says it’s paperwork, but you know,” Y/N pried, hoping JJ might know since she’s his best friend. 

 Without looking back, she could feel JJ stiffen at her question. Clearing her throat, JJ quickly changed the subject, “You know, there’s a lot of material here about global warming, overcrowding, evils of technology.” 

 “Did you just change the subject?” Y/N asked, turning to look at JJ. 

 “No, I just found something interesting related to the case.”

 Y/N looked at her with a challenging gaze. “You totally just changed the subject. What do you know?” 

 “There’s no phone, no TV, I wonder what this guy does for fun.” JJ turned away from Y/N to look around at all the different items around the room.

 “JJ.” Y/N said trying to go back to the question she was avoiding. 

 JJ turned back to Y/N with a innocent smile on her face. A smile that showed she was hiding something. 

 “It’s nothing, Y/N, you don’t have to be worried about it.” She was hiding something, but Y/N decided not to push it too far...yet. 

 “JJ, come on, he has to tell me soon-” Y/N turned back to a cabinet and began to look through it- “I mean he can’t keep doing this forever, so you might as well just-”

 She cut herself off as she smelt a familiar smell. She reached her hand into the cabinet and pulled out a ziplock bag. Holding about ten grams of Marijuana. 

 “Found what he does for fun,” Y/N said, showing JJ the bag.

-------------- 

 JJ and Y/N walked into the police station about an hour after they left Terry Rodger’s cabin. Y/N tried to pull what JJ was hiding out of her, but ended up having no success and gave up for the time being. 

 “So did you learn anything?” Rossi asked from a small coffee station as he saw JJ and Y/N walk in. 

 “Yeah, Y/N tells me Spence doesn’t like the beach,” JJ responded as they walked over to the table in the middle of the room.

 “I don’t,” Spencer said, confirming Y/N’s tell. 

 “Yeah, so Terry Rodgers definitely wanted to live off the grid, he had a small generator for some small electrical needs. Other than that no phones, TV, or Radio,” Y/N answered Rossi’s question with its actual intent. 

 “And lots of material about the evils of technology, living healthy off the lang, that sort of stuff,” JJ added to their findings. 

 “Sounds like the Unabomber,” Rossi commented. 

 “We did find a small stash of weed he had hidden away,” Y/N mentioned the only really significant finding. 

 “Did you find any evidence that a baby lived there or visited there?” Hotch asked. 

 “Uh, no, why?” JJ asked, turning to Y/N to see if she had found something. She shook her head. 

 “We just got the list of the items he purchased at the supermarket,” Spencer said and handed the list to Y/N when she reached for it. 

 “Four jars of baby food,” JJ read as she looked at the list with Y/N. 

 The two looked at each other confused. They both racked through their findings in the cabin again to see if there was any sign of a baby. 

 “A body matching Rodgers’ description was found ten miles out of town,” the Sheriff said as she entered the room with a sigh. 

 Y/N, Hotch, and Derek rolled up to the scene just as the body was being pulled out of the water. 

 “A fisherman found him washed up on a bank,” the Sheriff sighed as the body was set down by the crane on the ground. 

 “Well, other than the ligature marks on the wrists and ankles, there’s no sign of violence and torture,” Derek said as he examined the body. 

 “There is so much care taken with the killing and disposing of the body,” Y/N commented. 

 “Sedation and drowning,” Derek agreed. 

 “We may have to dramatically change who the unsub is,” Y/N said with a surprise of her own words. 

 “What do you mean?” The Sheriff asked. 

 “We might be looking for a woman,” Hotch answered. 

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

 “We believe the unsub that we’re looking for is a woman, who is highly organized, she’s thorough, and she’s patient,” Hotch said as he began the profile. 

 “Based on the complexity and the sophistication of the abductions, we think she is most likely between the ages of thirty and forty,” Spencer said. 

 “She’s familiar with the rural area surrounding La Grande. Either a native or someone who’s lived there for a while,” Rossi continued on about who the unsub was. 

 “We think she’s keeping her victims in isolation in the countryside, which means she has access to land or a structure. That is remote, hidden, and private,” Derek added. 

 “She’s abducting exceptionally health-conscious men, ideal specimens if you will,” Blake said. 

 “Specimens, for what?” The sheriff asked, shocked by Blake’s terminology. 

 “Possible breeding,” JJ answered. 

 “The ability to father children is something we think she’s looking for in her victims,” Hotch said. 

 “They’re all age-appropriate, and they are all fathers,” Y/N added. 

 “But why kill the last victim?” The sheriff asked. 

 “She may have seen him as being flawed,” Spencer answered. “He was the least physically fit of the four, and neglected to pay child support.” 

 “Making him undesirable,” Blake clarified.

 “The victims may be surrogates for a man that she wants but she can not have,” Derek said. 

 “Because she killed the last victim, we have to consider the possibility that the unsub is engaged in some sort of elimination process,” Rossi said. 

 “Preselecting a handful of prime candidates and then whittling them down one by one, until she has her ideal breeding partner,” Y/N added on to the elimination theory.

 “And if this is the case, then the killing’s just begun,” Hotch said.

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

 “I’m still waiting on the full M.E. report on Terry Rodgers,” the Sheriff said as she entered the room the team was working in. “They say they want to retest some of the findings.” 

 “Did they say why?” JJ asked, curious as to why they would do that. 

 “No,” the Sheriff shook her head.

 “I recognize that scowl Aaron,” Rossi stated to Hotch, who indeed did have a familiar scowl on his face. “What are you thinking?” 

 “Something Garcia said earlier about not being able to sit on a park bench in this country without leaving a paper trail,” Hotch admitted. 

 “And…” Y/N said, moving her hand in a ‘keep going’ motion. 

 “So what if Rodgers wasn’t in the country for those five months?” Hotch proposed the thought. 

 “It wouldn’t be the first time someone crossed borders to get away from troubles,” Rossi said as he agreed with Hotch’s thought. 

 “Guys there’s something interesting about this grocery list,” Spencer said as he walked across the room to the five at the table. 

 “What?” The Sheriff asked.

 “Look at the items he bought in bulk; garlic, green tea, vitamin D, ginger. All these items are specifically known to boost the immune system,” Spencer said, then set the list down on the table for those sitting to see. “What if Terry Rodgers was seriously ill?” 

 “What about the baby food?” JJ asked, not knowing how that would fit on the list. 

 “A side effect of radiation treatment is sores inside the mouth. In fact, doctors advise you to eat the way an infant would eat,” Spencer replied, showing how it fit. 

 “Chemotherapy?” Rossi questioned.

 Spencer nodded, silently saying ‘more than likely’.

 “The marijuana in the cabin could have been medicinal,” Y/N said as she thought more into the theory of Rodgers being sick. 

 “I’ll have Garcia check medical facilities outside the country,” Hotch said and pulled out his phone. “Reid, you and JJ got to the medical examiner to look for a pre-existing condition with Rodgers.”

 Y/N watched as the two walked out of the room together, wondering what they were hiding from her. 

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

 “It was Hodgkin's Lymphoma,” the M.E. said as he gave the final report to Spencer. 

 “Did you find any sedatives in his system?” JJ asked.

 “The question is, what sedatives didn’t we find?” The M.E. replied. “Melatonin, Valerian, Marijuana, hops, catnip, kava-kava…”

 “Bone meal and kelp,” Spencer finished as he read the report. 

 “In the victim’s stomach, along with some materials that we’re retesting,” the M.E. said, then stood up as he got excited to show Spencer something. “Take a look at the bottom.”

 “Sawdust residue caked in the nostrils?” Spencer read with questions at the finding. 

 “Not just any sawdust, pure pinewood pellet sawdust,” the M.E. told them.

 “It’s usually imported from China. Was it a 0.5% mixture?” Spencer’s question took the M.E. back. 

 “I don’t know, all I know is it’s not your every day, spread-on-the-floor sawdust.” 

 The two agents thanked the M.E. and began to walk out of the small office they were in. Spencer called Rossi to inform them of their findings before they got back. 

 “You know, Y/N asked me today about why you’ve been leaving early for work,” JJ said as the two walked to their car. “To do paperwork?” 

 Spencer sucked in a nervous breath. “You didn’t tell her anything did you?” 

 “Of course not, only that she doesn’t need to worry,” JJ replied in a reassuring tone. “But ‘paperwork’ was the best excuse you could come up with?” 

 Spencer let out a breathy chuckle, “It was a spur of the moment excuse.” 

 They were quiet for a second as they both buckled their seat belts and JJ started the car. 

 “But she’s onto something now, and she’s going to dig if you don’t do it anytime soon.” 

 Spencer sighed, “I know, I just don’t know when yet.” 

------------  

 “Yeah,” Rossi said as he hung up his phone then walked into the sheriff’s office where Derek, Hotch, and Y/N stood. “That was Reid, they found half a dozen natural sedatives in Rogders' system.” 

 “I don’t get it, the unsub’s drugging victims and trusting that they’ll conk out at the right place at the right time.” Derek’s confusion was reciprocated as Y/N nodded. 

 “Yeah, why not use a pharmaceutical Drug? Or Poison?” Y/N asked. 

 “Which would be quicker and a lot more reliable,” Rossi nodded.

 “Natural holistic elements must be important to her,” Y/N said as she thought more about it. 

 “She may have health issues of her own,” Hotch agreed. 

 As Hotch finished his speculation, he pulled his phone out as Penelope called. 

 “Go ahead, Garcia.” 

 “I just hit the trifecta, but with two things instead of three,” Penelope said excitedly. “What is that, a bifecta?” 

 “Exacta, what you got?” Rossi pushed her to get to the point. 

 “Well, that-- anyway, two missing vehicles, not missing anymore. Paul Hicks’ car was found by some utility workers an hour ago, it rolled off into a ravine. And Gary Ellard’s car was picked up on a speeding violation in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho.”

 “Idaho?” Derek said, confused. 

 “Stolen by some local kids ten days ago in La Grande,” Penelope cleared up the confusion. “Car was just sitting by the side of the road, keys in the ignition. They made a typical sound teenage decision, decided to take it on a cross-state joyride.”

 “Garcia, I need to know the exact spot where the vehicles were originally found,” Hotch said as he moved out of the office into the conference room.

 “On it.” 

-------------  

 “All right, based on what we just got, this is the revised best guess route of the victims the days they were abducted,” Y/N said as she pointed to the map for Blake and JJ. Her and Hotch devised this new route together in an impressive thirty minutes. 

 “Two intersect here-” Blake pointed to an intersection of two of the victims- “the other two here.”

 JJ then pointed to a spot on the map. “And this is where Terry Rodgers bought his groceries.” 

 “Looks like Paul Hicks might have gone there after his doctor’s appointment,” Blake said. 

 “Now what was at the intersection where Deavor and Ellard crossed?” JJ asked. 

 “That’s a shopping center with a dozen or so businesses,” Hotch answered as he pointed it out on the map. 

 “We’re getting a list right now,” Y/N added. 

 “One of the deputies sighted an abandoned car on the outskirts of town. There was a second set of tire tracks behind it that matched those found at the Terry Rodgers’ abduction site,” the Sheriff said, rushed as she peered into the room. 

---------

 Y/N stood next to Hotch as he inspected the inside of the car. Looking over all the beautifully wrapped gifts that were tucked into the back seat. 

 “Vehicle’s registered to Cheryl Winslow, 4801 Davenport Avenue,” the deputy on site told the two agents. 

 “These are all from a baby shower,” Hotch said as he finished looking at the gifts in the back seat. 

 “We contacted her husband, she’s due in three weeks,” the deputy confirmed. 

 “If this is our unsub, taking a pregnant woman is a huge change in her victimology,” Y/N said as Hotch turned to her. 

 “We profiled she was abducting the men as breeders,” Hotch reminded her. 

 “But why take someone else’s baby if you’re planning on having your own?” Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion.

 “Maybe she can’t have one or she lost one.” 

 “So this-” she moved her hands in a circular motion- “this isn’t about fertility, but the experience these men would bring as fathers.”

 Y/N paused as she thought more and Hotch gave her a look, telling her they were now thinking the same thing. 

 “Is she trying to build a family?”  

--------- 

 “That was Hotch,” Rossi said as he hung up his phone. It was the next day now, Cheryl Winslow had been left in the parking lot of the hospital in the early morning, along with her delivered baby. “The doctor told him the placenta was scrapped completely out of the victim’s uterus.”

 Y/N and JJ grimaced at the thought. 

 “Every bit of it.”

 “You know the placenta does carry special significance in many cultures. In ancient Egypt, it had its own hieroglyph. And the Ibo tribe in Nigeria considered it to be the child’s dead twin,” Spencer said. His facts were insightful but not helpful here. 

 “Well, that would be helpful, if our unsub was an ancient Egyptian or Ibo tribe woman, but...” JJ sassed.

 Even though JJ’s comment was full of sarcasm and sass, it gave Spencer a thought. He began to mumble to himself as he went through his unlimited knowledge in his brain. 

 “I can hear the high-pitched whine from your IQ all the way over here, what is it?” Rossi asked. The humor-filled question made Y/N and JJ chuckle.

 “It could be placentophagy,” Spencer said as if everyone knew what that was. 

 “What?” JJ asked. 

 “Consuming it. In the wild, it’s common for animals to eat their own afterbirth. It’s super-rich in nutrients,” Spencer explained. 

 “Oh god, I’m going to be sick,” Y/N said as she leaned her lead on her hands at the thought. 

 “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait-” Rossi held his hand up to Spencer to stop him before he continued- “so the unsub might have harvested this last victim...for food?” 

 Spencer lightly nodded his head, grossed out also at the thought.

----------

 “It’s about food,” Rossi said as he began to explain what they had deciphered as the motive. “Herbal sedatives, gruel, and now the placenta.” 

 “Ugh,” Penelope’s sigh was heard through the phone. “And FYI, there’s no record of anyone in La Grande buying that weird kind of sawdust the M.E. found. I’ll widen the search.”

 “We still need to figure out how this unsub was able to drug all these men,” JJ reminded everyone. 

 “The southeast intersect doesn’t get us much,” Spencer nodded to the map. “Laundromat, video rental store.”

 “The other intersect is the supermarket, yet none of the employees recognized Paul Hicks, he never shopped there,” Y/N said as she pointed to the spot on the map.

 “Garcia, what day of the week were each of the victims abducted?” Hotch asked Penelope on the phone. 

 “Let me see. Gary Ellard on a Monday, Barry Deaver on a Saturday, Terry Rodgers and Paul Hicks both on a Thursday.”

 “Is there anything special that happens in the vicinity of the markets on Thursdays?”Hotch asked. 

 “Uh...wow, you’ve done this before, haven’t you? Yeah, there’s a farmers market across the street from the supermarket every Thursday morning,” Penelope answered when she got a hit. 

 “And where is it today?” Hotch continued. 

 “Pendleton, about forty miles north on Interstate 84.” 

 “I’m sending Blake and Morgan,” Hotch replied then hung up the phone. 

-------------  

 Y/N threw the paper towel she used to dry her hands away as she pushed the door to the bathroom open. She pressed across the room as she saw Spencer receive something off of the fax machine. 

 “What do you have?” She nodded to the paper he held in his hand. 

 He turned back and watched as she stopped in the spot next to him. “Full toxicology report.” 

 His eyes went down to the paper as he quickly read over it. 

 “And?” 

 “Unlike any tox panel I’ve ever seen before,” he turned the page so she could read what he had seen.

 “They found gypsum?” She asked after she read the finding. 

 “Yeah, gypsum’s rich in sulfur, a vital plant nutrient,” Spencer explained. 

 “I’m sorry, so she’s feeding her captives soil additives?” Y/N asked, slightly grossed out. 

 “Seed meals, too. Look-” he pointed to a finding further down the page- “cotton, flax.”

 “That’s animal feed, right?” Y/N asked Spencer for confirmation. 

 He nodded. 

 “Why would you treat a human being like livestock? People raise cattle to eat.” Y/N was so confused now. This unsub’s motives were all over the place. 

 “The unsub might be using the placenta as food, but nothing in the profile suggested cannibalism,” Spencer agreed with her confusion. “I mean...unless the sawdust they found in Terry Rodgers’ nose…” 

 “What about it?” Y/N asked when he paused. 

 “When livestock die, animal carcasses turn into a useful soil amendment through the aerobic biodegradation process--” 

 “Like compost?” 

 “Exactly, you need to add a substrate high in carbon to balance the nitrogen. And one of the most efficient substances on earth is pure sawdust,” Spencer explained as he started to piece things together. 

 “She’s using her victims as human fertilizer,” Y/N muttered as she caught on to what Spencer was saying. 

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

 “Sheriff the surgeon who operated on Cheryl Winslow said that whoever did the c-section might have done one before,” Hotch said as the Sheriff walked into the room. 

 “If she did, we never heard about it,” the Sheriff responded with wide eyes. “Nothing like this has ever happened in La Grande.”  

 “Well, we can keep looking, expand the search radius to nearby towns,” Derek suggested. 

 “What about farms?” JJ’s question made everyone in the room look at her. “My grandparents had a farm in Pennsylvania. Once my grandmother had to deliver a calf by c-section to a cow that was in distress.” 

 As JJ finished, Hotch’s phone rang. 

 “Go ahead, Garcia.” 

 “I have got something, Emma Kerrigan. She runs a small juice and vegetable stand at the farmers market, and she works part-time giving out free samples at the health food co-op. I’m sending you her picture now,” Penelope said as she sent the picture. 

 “That sounds like our unsub,” Y/N said as she walked into the room, only hearing what Penelope said. 

 “Where does she live?” Hotch asked quickly. 

 “Piping Rock Farms west of town, like a hundred acres, belonged to her husband’s family-”

 “Wait, she has a husband?” Derek asked, cutting Penelope off. 

 “Had. Died in a car accident a year and a half ago, leaving her and a ten-year-old daughter,” Penelope clarified. 

 “Let’s go.” Hotch hung up the phone and rushed out of the room to suit up. 

----------------- 

 The team rolled up to the farm. The sky darkened as it had rolled into the night.

 Y/N jogged behind Rossi, JJ, and Spencer into a barn. After making sure the barn was cleared, they lowered their guns and looked around. 

 Rossi walked up to the one machine that was covered by a green tarp.

 “What’s that?” JJ nodded to the tarp. 

 Rossi grabbed the green plastic-fabric and pulled it back, revealing a grinder. 

 “Oh my…” Y/N muttered as she looked at the inside that was covered in blood. 

 They heard through their earpieces that Hotch, Derek, and Blake were heading to another barn on the property next to a garden.

 By the time they made their way to the garden, Derek said he found Emma.

 They watched as Blake handed her a bag of what looked to be ashes. 

 “It’s a miracle,” Emma said and kept repeating as she poured the bag on her daughter she had buried under soil next to one of her victims. 

 Hotch grabbed her as she poured the last bit on top of her daughter and pulled her away. The Sheriff took her away from Hotch and placed cuffs on her to lead her away.

 That next day, the team was back in the office finishing up reports from the case and having a day in the office. 

 Y/N had her feet resting on the corner of her desk, her last report of the day in her lap as she read over it to make sure everything was all good. 

 It was all hallows eve, and all Y/N wanted to do was get home, watch a stupid scary movie with Spencer and hand candy out to the kids who lived in their apartment building. 

 She looked up from her work to see Spencer already looking at her. 

 “Hey, Spence, did we remember the candy for tonight?” She asked, taking her feet off the desk and stood up to walk to his desk. 

 “We should have a lot if you didn’t eat it all,” Spencer smiled, pointing his pen at her. 

 “I wouldn’t ever do such a thing,” she laughed. 

 “That’s a lie straight from the pits of hell Y/N Y/L/N,” Derek said walking up behind her. “You keep a stash of skittles in your desk year-round.”

 “And never share, need I remind you,” Rossi added as he remembered all the time he asked for some. 

 She gasped dramatically and placed a hand on her chest, faking offense to their comments. “Gentlemen, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

 The three men laughed at her claim with an eye roll. 

 “Uh, excuse me, everybody. I have an announcement to make,” JJ said as she walked into the bullpen, rubbing her hands together excitedly.

 Once she knew she had everyone on the team’s attention, she continued. 

 “As I’m sure some of you were aware, Henry was a little nervous about going trick-or-treating this year, but he’ decided to go anyway,” JJ said excitedly. 

 “Great, what changed his mind?” Rossi asked. 

 “The BAU did,” she responded sheepishly. “I told him that he should go out on Halloween and try to figure out which monsters are real and which ones are not.” 

 “So he wants to be a profiler?” Y/N asked with a smile. 

 “Ah-” JJ held up a finger- “he wants to be his favorite profiler.” 

 On cue, Penelope led in a small Henry, dressed up as their very own, Spencer Reid. Little converse, a sweater vest, a tie, and even his own satchel bag adorned his body to make the perfect Spencer. 

 “Wow! Yeah!” Spencer said excitedly as he stood up from his chair to meet Henry in the walkway between desks.

 “Oh my gosh, JJ this is too cute,” Y/N gushed as she stood next to Spencer. 

 “Oh, wow!” Spencer squatted in front of Henry who ran up to him. “You look great, Henry.” Spencer fumbled with his I.D. badge and clipped it onto Henry’s sweater. 

 “Oh, he’s official!” Derek laughed. 

 “Tell him,” Penelope whispered into Henry’s ear. 

 “E equals MC squared!” Henry exclaimed his new knowledge excitedly. 

 The smile on Spencer’s face was unbeatable. 

 “The monsters don’t stand a chance,” Blake gushed as she looked at JJ who nodded. 

 Y/N kneeled in front of Henry. “Here Henry let me do for you what I have to do for Uncle Spencer every morning.” 

 She gently grabbed his tie and pretended to straighten it for him. Everyone laughed at the action, knowing full well that’s what she did every time his tie was crooked.

 “He’s gotta have the full effect,” Y/N looked up at JJ.

 “Oh, I know, should we go get you some candy?” JJ said as she leaned down to Henry. He nodded his head excitedly. 

 He took her hand as she led him out of the office and to the candy with Penelope. 

 “Watch your back, Pretty Boy,” Derek said to Spencer, clapping his hand on his shoulder as he and Rossi walked past.

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