#or threatening them in the face of danger (I mean yeah they can’t die but still. jerk move)

[millin21]

Jax in the first episode: ah. Great. New guy. Well, Cain, you got one of those random games you give to newbies?

Jax in episode 2: oh we goin to some place with NPCs? Okay! Time to cause MORE chaos! >:)

[wthtorke]

Friendship

Gender Neutral Reader - No warnings! Seen in november on Patre0n

“What do you mean ‘accommodate them’? Look at the size of those brutes and look at my SHIP, for fuck’s sake!” You angrily whispered, eyes darting back and forth from your supervisor to the three, -very big-, yautjas that stood a few feet away from you.

“They’re going to escort you safely to Andromeda-, don’t make it difficult, this is their first mission, they’re like, teenagers-”

“TEENAGERS?”

“Young Adults! Young-, young adults-! That’s what I meant! They’re mature-, God, they’re SO mature, and they’re gonna protect you, I swear to God-”

“How old are they?” You asked, a hand on your hips as the other rested on the side of your well-loved, if not a little battered, spaceship.

“I-, I don’t know-, I hear they mature at a hundred years old? I have no idea how their calendar fucking works, but they’re at least um-, eighteen? Look-, our species have been collaborating for a while now, you’re going to be fine, there’s three of them-”

“One of them tried to fucking kill me!”

“That was a bad blood! That’s why we’re having these guys! Their um- dam? Their -mother- is the best bad-blood hunter out there so they must be amazing!”

“I’m going to die and come back to haunt your ass.”

“You’re not going to die, cause if you do, so will I-, so you’re NOT dying!” She sighed, putting her hands on your shoulders, “You saved our asses from an attack and now there are some bad bloods looking for your ass, I know you’re scared but these guys are good-, besides, the trip is….relatively short, you’ll be fine.”

You grimaced but nodded, “Alright...Well, we’re off soon...You know their names?”

“Actually…no.”

“Oh for fuck's sake.”

That was the conversation you last had with your supervisor, the one that left you to die before you managed to squish that bad blood under your cargo like a bug. Marvelous.

You had climbed aboard your ship, being told one last time that "They understand you, but they can't really speak English, OH! One of them is a girl-, good luck!"

“WHA-” You cut off as the hatch closed in front of you.

So now you had three yautjas in your ship, whose names you had no idea, who you could not communicate with, save for saying what you had to say and hoping for the best-, which wasn't all that great.

And you had a bad blood clan hot on your trail.

Amazing.

"Hey-, don't touch that, stop-, you’re going to scratch my ship! God-, what do I even call you? We gotta come up with names." You stressed, hitting the autopilot button before turning your chair to face the three "teenagers" standing there.

"Alright, one of you is- a female? Right? Which one?" You asked, watching them look at each other before the one on the left shrugged, grunting.

The biggest of the three, her skin was dark blue.

"You? Alright-, damn that's some girl power-, okay-, yall got names?" You asked again, receiving a series of clicks and rumbles coming from each one.

You sighed again, "If I'm in danger and I try to pronounce that I'll die choking, I'm afraid we need some um...codenames." You said, they shrugged again.

"Alright so, girl-, you're um-, Bubbie! Bub for short." She nods, crossing her arms, and you move to the next one. The middle one. The one grabbing your stuff.

"You-, kleptomaniac-, I'm calling you K'nuckles." You hissed as he shrugged, throwing your little stress ball up and down in his hand, talons threatening to rip it every time he caught it again.

"Which means you're Flap, my boy." You said, turning to the last one, he nodded. "Alright!" You turn back to your panel, switching the autopilot off again, "If anyone laughs at your codenames you have permission to maim them, period." You scoff, then thinking about it a second later, “Actually, don’t do that, I’d get fired-, now let's get to the candied island, yeah?”

-

“You named them after a canceled old-ass cartoon.”

“Well, when you put it like that- look, they absolutely love their names and I’m not even joking.” You shrug. “How?! They have names like Scar and- KNIFE and stuff, you know? I don’t know how you can just- call a 9-foot tall killing machine Bubble!”

“Yeah? Go ahead and try telling Bubbie her name ain’t Bubbie, I dare ya.” You say, watching your alien partner get up from her seat in the corner, growling already.

“Fuck no. Thank you.”

You smile and nod, “I told you she liked it.”

-

✨Here’s the patre0n link again✨

[samwpmarleau]

fic: sometime around midnight

idk man, i saw “night walks” on a prompt list and this came out. set in an alt-season 4 (probably).

She likes walking at night. There’s far too much light pollution in L.A. to see much of the stars, but the endless blanket of nothingness above is comforting all the same. The temperature cools enough to make long sleeves pleasant instead of just a statement. It’s freeing, too, to walk around without any fear or feeling like she needs to thread her fingers around her car keys with her head on a swivel. The buzzing beneath her skin from the million and one creatures and objects around her waiting to be manipulated renders any potential danger a nonissue.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing on her own so late?”

Daisy smiles to herself. Even without a voice to accompany it, the unique vibration of Robbie Reyes shines through the white noise of all the rest.

“I don’t think pickup lines are supposed to sound threatening,” she says, slowing her pace just a fraction so he can catch up.

“I was being — it wasn’t a pickup line.”

“A threat, then? You should know better than that by now.”

Daisy takes her hands out of her pockets and points them downward, causing the pavement to shiver just enough to be unsettling. Still a far cry from their first meeting, when she cracked the ground beneath his feet and sent him to his knees. He’s been on his knees since, too, but it’s never taken a quake to do it.

“You wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? Retract those claws, girl.”

Daisy has a retort to that prepared as she turns down an alleyway — What would you know about my bed? perhaps — but opts for the truth instead, just this once. “Sorry. Long day.”

Robbie grabs her hand to tug her to a stop. His handsome features are marred by a frown, every trace of playfulness gone. “Daisy.”

She leans forward to smush her face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of old leather and motor oil. Robbie stiffens in surprise before slowly wrapping his arms around her.

She supposes she can’t blame him for being tentative; until now, things had never been like this, so serious and fraught. They work better as strangers. As enemies. Or pretending as such, anyway. This isn’t the first time he’s weakened her armor, each kernel of information he drops about himself heightening her intrigue, but this is the first time she’s let him penetrate it.

The fact that he can’t die helps. That much she’ll admit. She’s a walking cancer to everyone else, a hazard to anyone who gets too close, but not him. Hell, she’d tried to kill him in the beginning, and it didn’t take.

He’ll always be here, in one form or another.

She calms, a little, as she shuts out the rest of the world to listen to the beat of his heart and tune into the specific timbre of his vibrational frequency. Frequencies plural, really. His, steady and low, and the Rider’s, frenetic and high. The latter’s barely noticeable at the moment, however. The demon inside him doesn’t usually bother to rouse itself anymore when she’s nearby.

“Cariño,” Robbie murmurs, the endearment soft as silk on his tongue, “you’re scaring me.”

She lets out a weak snort. “Ghost Rider’s got jokes. Come on, I’m not scaring —”

“I mean it. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

She doesn’t want to tell him — she can’t tell him, not yet — but she doesn’t want to lie either. Quietly, she asks, “Just hold me?”

“Yeah,” he says, so immediately and without question that it makes her start to cry.

Once she starts she can’t seem to stop, for a certainty getting snot and makeup and tears on his beloved jacket, but he doesn’t mention it. He merely does as asked, holds her so tightly it almost hurts — almost burns, like he’s trying to keep her in one piece long enough to cauterize her wounds.

He could kill her like this, she muses, if he wanted to. Sizzle her flesh and char her bones with the touch of a finger. In turn, she could quake his organs apart, maim him so thoroughly it’d take the Rider a week to stitch him back together.

They’re two of the most dangerous people in the world, the pair of them, and maybe one day that’ll be a problem.

But for now, all Daisy feels is safe.

[tim-shepard]

“I sleep with a gun under my pillow… just so you know.” and “I can not go in there! I will have a heart attack, die, and it will be your fucking fault.” with dally please

hihi anonny, tysm for the request

word count: 856

summary: Johnny finds Dallas for comfort after a fight at home. mostly jus fluff

a/n: you didn’t name a ship so i defaulted to jally oops

Johnny strolled slowly down the dimly lit street, in no real rush to head anywhere really. He knew it wasn’t too smart to be out alone at this hour, but considering the scene he had just left at home, he felt dealing with getting jumped was just as good, if not a better way to spend his Friday night. 

He kept his eyes focused straight in front of him, shoulders back, switchblade in his hand within his pocket, the way Dally taught him after he got jumped the first time. “You’ll look tougher. And at the first sign of danger, you defend yourself anyway, anyhow, ‘kay Johnnycakes?”, Dallas’ words repeated in his mind.

The thought of Dallas Winston made him stop walking for a moment. Dally. He quickly looked around to get a sense of where he was, and recognized the part of town instantly. He took a breath, and then another, before turning left, heading straight towards’ Buck Merril’s place, Dally’s frequent place of choice to spend his evenings.

Johnny knocked on the door, swallowing hard, as though his anxieties were trying to escape out his mouth. He loosened his grip off his switch and took a deep breath. The place didn’t seem deserted, but it didn’t seem to be one of the rowdier nights either, so Johnny was hoping Dally wasn’t too far gone yet.

  “Can I help you?” Buck said, his voice filled with annoyance.

“H-hey Buck…” His voice quivered as he spoke. He closed his eyes and quickly took another breath before opening them again. “Hey man. Dally here?”

Buck had never really appreciated when Dallas’ younger buddies showed up, but Johnny guessed he either could sense his urgency or just plain out felt sorry for him.

“Yeah,” Buck grumbled, motioning up the stairs, “in his room.”

“Thanks.” he mumbled. Johnny stepped past Buck and quickly made his way up the stairs.

“Dally! Dallas, It’s me, Johnny,” he knocked thrice on the door before trying the knob. Locked. He knocked twice more. “Dallas!”

It was quiet for a moment, and then Johnny heard the shuffling of feet across Buck’s old, squeaky floor, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Dallas opened the door, his eyes half open, wearing a white sleeveless t-shirt and thin black-and-blue plaid boxers. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “‘Ey Johnny, you okay?”

Johnny didn’t answer right away, he just walked past Dallas, sat down on his bed, continuing to fight back the tears that had been trying to reveal just how scared he was. He put his head in his hands, and stared down at the floor as he spoke. 

“My pops… h-he came home drunk again. Went all berserk and threatening on me. Dally-” he paused and looked up at Dallas. At this point Dally’s face had fallen like it did all the other times Johnny relayed stories from home to him, the pure helplessness he felt while listening to Johnny displayed over every inch of his face. “Dally… I can’t go back there.”

Dallas scratched at the back of his neck, letting out a deep sigh. “Kid… I mean, sure you cans. Hell, don’t you think me and my pops ever-”

“Dally!” Johnny cried out. Dallas paused, shocked at just how hard this fight was hitting him. “Dallas, you don’t understand. I can not go in there! I will have a heart attack, die, and it will be your fucking fault.” Johnny sobbed between words, every tear that had been waiting to come out came out in droves. He slowly rocked back and forth on the bed in an attempt to self-soothe, his head once again buried deep in his hands.

Dallas took a seat next to Johnny at the foot of the bed, his hand instinctively running up and down Johnny’s back. Dallas had never been too good at comfort, and he never knew why Johnny seemed to always pick him to find solace in, but he always knew when he was needed and when he was not. 

And right now, Johnny needed him.

After a few quiet moments of Dally’s rubbing Johnny’s back while he rocked, Johnny slowly started to calm down and regain some composure. He knew he was safe with Dallas. He knew he could trust Dallas.

“Hey, Johnny, why don’t you… why don’t you stay here. For the night. With me.” Dallas said, finally breaking the silence. “We don’t gotta sleep if you don’t wanna, can stay up all night havin’ a sleepover like you and Pony do.” He added.

Johnny moved his hands from his face, a small smile forcing its way onto his face as he locked eyes with Dallas. As if on cue, he yawned, and leaned slightly more into Dallas’ touch.

  “I’d like that very much,” he yawned again, and plopped over onto his side, laying near the edge of the bed. Dallas smiled, and laid next to Johnny, throwing his arm over his waist.

“Hey, Johnny?”

“Yeah Dal?”

“I-I… I sleep with a gun under my pillow… just so you know.” Dallas grabbed Johnny’s hand, squeezing it. “You’re safe, here, with me.”

[healeroflightanddark]

Cursed Souls, Chapter 5: Ghost

Yuya’s eyes widened in shock at Yuto’s words. “I-I… I’m a g-ghost?! But how?!” he cried.

A new voice spoke from behind Yugo. “Easy. You died. Duh!” Another ghost with the same face and seemingly the same age as the other three appeared then, his eyes like amethysts and his pink-and-violet hair like cabbage. He grinned at Yuya. “I mean, that is how ghosts are created, you know?”

Yuya instinctively hid behind Yuto and buried his face in the hippo plushie he was still holding, extremely frightened. This new ghost had a different feel to him. Unlike Yuto and Yugo, who didn’t give off a dangerous vibe, this new ghost made Yuya feel extremely unsafe.

“Can it with the aura, Yuri!” Yuto snapped at the new ghost. “You’re spooking him!” Yuri, as the new ghost was apparently called, just chuckled. Moment’s later, the threatening vibe faded and Yuya relaxed a little. Yuto smiled kindly at the tomato-head. “Don’t worry, Yuri won’t actually hurt you. He may cause trouble and be a genuine threat to the living when he wants to be, but really his threatening aura just now was just a defensive instinct. He just wanted to see how you would react to a potential threat, to make sure you’re not a violent spirit.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Yuya!~” Yuri purred. “You passed the vibe check!”

Yuya hugged the hippo plushie close to his chest and peeked at Yuri from behind Yuto, calming down a little. Yuri approached him and hugged him tightly. Which made Yuya realize something. “Hey, wait a minute… Yuto, why did you say I wouldn’t be able to pass through the front door, if I’m a ghost?”

“Because it’s true,” Yuto said. “The whole ‘ghosts walk through walls’ thing isn’t entirely accurate. We can’t pass through things in our haunting grounds if they were already there when we died. However, if they were added after we die, we’re able to pass through them. And if they’re removed after we die, they still leave behind a ghostly imprint that we can’t pass through. For example, this front entry hall was a lot smaller when I died, and it was renovated and extended to the size it is now shortly before Yugo died. So you and Yugo can interact with the current front door and walls and windows, but Yuri, Zarc, and I still follow the path we took before the renovations, using the imprint of the old front door. We can still interact with the new front door, but it takes a lot of energy. Almost as much as it takes to change our dead clothes. There are some exceptions to the rule, such as us being able to interact with things made by ghosts, and being able to interact with things that we were passionate about in life, but for the most part it takes too much energy to be worth it.”

“Oh,” Yuya was still a bit confused, but he understood enough. “Reminds me of something I read online once, where the ghost is like, Oh, I see what you’ve done to the place… I don’t like it and then just floats through a wall.”

“I mean, that’s a pretty accurate way to describe it,” said another voice from upstairs. Yuya looked up, startled. But this time, the new ghost wasn’t invisible. He was floating down from the second floor, in between the two sweeping staircases on either side of the entry hall. “We ghosts don’t really like renovations of our haunting grounds. They’re difficult for us to perceive, and it agitates us. For example, there used to be just one staircase here in the middle of the entry hall with an archway on either side, and now there’s two staircases where the archways used to be and an open wall where the original staircase was. It’s hard for me to see and use the new staircases, and I can’t go through the open wall because the imprint of the old staircase blocks my path.”

“Oh, hi Zarc!” Yugo said, waving at the new ghost happily. “Yuya, this is Zarc! He was the first of us to become a ghost!”

Zarc had the same face as all the others, with citrine eyes and silver-and-green asparagus hair. But unlike the others, he appeared to be a few years older. If Yuya had to guess, he would say that Zarc had probably been about eighteen when he died.

Zarc looked at Yuya with a bit of pity in his face. “Damn curse…” he muttered, before ruffling Yuya’s tomato fluff. “Come, follow me Yuya. I’ll show you to where your rooms are.”

[reniqt]

18 — BANGS :★︎:

“bye ms. kim!”

riki is childishly waving his hand to the teacher who’s exiting the classroom with a smile, off to complete a small task before returning.

and after you two received a proper tour, the boy just couldn’t hold himself back from pouring out countless compliments of how much he adored her.

“I told you she’s sweet.” you remind, elbowing the boy with a competitive grin, earning a small scoff off his lips whilst averting your eyes. you giggled.

“I never said she wasn’t!” uttered riki, adjusting his black cap as he cleared his throat, only to roll his eyes at your repetitive teasing.

you grinned. “yeah, yeah.”

“let’s just pretend you didn’t have sparkles for eyes the moment you two spoke.”

“shut the fuck up.”

riki was only fuming with anger right across from you, angrily resuming his scissor cutting task you forcefully assigned him to do. unfortunately.

and though he wanted to fight back, he only weakened at the thought of arguing against someone he liked, only to pout while sloppily slicing sheets of paper.

and you, on the other hand, took every chance you got to tease your boyfriend, sneaking a few peeks at riki’s heated ears, already enjoying the atmosphere.

luckily, this tight tension is quick to die in seconds as you both continued your own duties, not one of you daring to speak as silence began to ease in.

and right when riki successfully manages to cut a few more squares, he can’t help but tune into your grunts caused by the struggle of the length of your bangs, aggressively brushing them away.

hm?

that’s when he gradually whirls himself around, watching you repeatedly run your fingers through your hair with a held back chuckle.

“need help?”

strangely, your boyfriend’s words seem to stop you in an instant from your hell of a stroke, slowly meeting the male’s warmhearted pupils.

“no, it’s just I haven’t gotten the time to cut my hair yet.” you bluntly reply, immediately turning away to face your empty canvas. you regretted it right after.

“I’ll just go to the salon later today.”

but it was too late.

those plans shatter as the approaching footsteps of nobody but riki’s make you stiffen in a heart beat, hesitantly moving your body to check if he was there.

and he was.

“what the hell are yo—”

“just close your eyes.”

he ended kneeling down in front of you with a pair of scissors in his hands, a smile full of innocence. “I won’t do anything stupid.” he laughs.

now HERE was what had you speechless.

there was so many possibilities you gained, yet you chose to obey him out of trust, not knowing why you agreed to do this in the first place.

“fine, but make me look bad and I’ll punch you.” you threatened, sending a shiver down his spine as you began to close your eyes.

you had the chance to back out.

riki began to snip the ends of your bangs, trimming it to his desire with an upward grin.

so…?

he parted a few loose strands to tuck behind your ear, noticing your pink tinted cheeks.

why didn’t you?

maybe it was the fact he just enjoyed helping you with crafting scissors.

or..maybe it was the fact riki just loved you for you.

and to think? you trusted him with your hair was hilarious, yet too precious for him to ruin.

and after he’d finally finish brushing the leftover strands away, he smiled.

“alright, now open your eyes and take a peek.”

you were done.

“…okay, fine. I trust you.”

that’s when you slowly, and elegantly began to open your eyes,

..only to immediately meet the eyes of your lover’s.

you didn’t know what you were expecting, but opening your eyes to riki’s face being just a few inches from yours was not it.

never in a million years did you ever find yourself so dangerously close to him,

and you wanted to cry.

but somehow,

this moment felt like a dream.

a dream where it only felt like the world revolved around you both.

and maybe you were the only one who became a flustered mess while gazing into your boyfriend’s eyes, unable to remove them.

but that didn’t mean he wasn’t doing the same.

“n-no, I meant—”

riki hovers a hand over your head and gently lowers it to the framed mirror in his other arm, immediately covering his heated face. “the mirror, ahahaha.”

you let out a squeak of relief, awkwardly laughing along with him as you stared into the mirror. “oh.”

“dumbass, aaahah.”

and as the male continued covering his red self, your stare remains upon the glass as fondness began to take over.

the stare that remained on none other,

but your reflection.

◦ synopsis middle school years were difficult for you. After you finally moved away from your supposedly old bully, an unexpected surprise begans to follow

-

© reniqt — all rights reserved

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[guzmagang]

Could you do an imagining or one shot with a female reader x Adaman. With him trying to reach her and make her realize she isn’t in this alone that she can rely on others to help save all the people from the danger of the time rift. lol what if a little kid of the diamond clan gets stuck in a time distortion field?

overworked | adaman x reader

v fun prompt. very much channeled "tired college student" energy in this but very fun.

reblogs are greatly appreciated | request open | kofi tips greatly appreciated

cw: general exhaustion, nondescript injury. me being stressed the fuck out about space-time distortions.

Deeply sighing, I place down my satchel unceremoniously somewhere on the floor- laying down on the hardwood as opposed to walking a little bit further to a cushion or mat. Exhaustion holding my eyes heavy and burning my eyeballs, I finally let my eyes slip shut.

I really wish other galaxy members could get better so my fucking back doesn’t break, but half of them are helpless- hell, one of the members of the security corps can’t even keep her own direction.

Maybe that’s why Arceus brought me here- half of everyone is helpless.

Most people here- well, I guess, technically “now”- don’t even have more than one

Pokemon, much less having a coherent team to be of any use.

My head thumps, stres pulsing through me as I let the wood hold me in uncomfortable flatness-

“Hey! You awake in there?”

Rei.

Groaning, I stand up again, pulling my satchel back on, exiting my cabin.

“There you are! Professor said there's one of those time-space warp things forming in one of the wilds and it’s pretty close to a Diamond Settlement- think you could go check it out?”

“Yeah I can,” I smile, trying to appear less like I’m being held together by my clothes.

“Great! Don’t push yourself too much there though; Just make sure no one enters it and nothing exits it. Adaman is going to be there to help too.”

“Sounds good.”

At least Adaman is going to be there.

“I’m going too so I can be extra support but, uh,” Rei pauses, “If I’m going to be honest, I’ll probably end up wrangling kids and making sure they don’t run into the distortion.”

“That’s still helping; If anything it’s safer,” I reassure him as we walk together to the gate, the guard giving us an escort for the journey.

“If anything gets really dicey, I’m sure someone will come help.”

Who else? I’m the only person helping all of you-

“Like Irida?”

“Yeah!”

Okay someone competent.

“Have… Have you ever been in a time-space distortion?” Rei shyly asks, obviously scared.

“I have on accident; It’s pretty intense. Hurts my eyes.”

“Are the pokemon really that scary?”

“Oh absolutely. They’re definitely a security threat. Sometimes pokemon will leave the distortion.”

“Geez,” Rei pauses, looking out into the distance- a threatening aurora in the distance forming a dome, “But I guess you can handle it- You’ve handled everything else!”

I am one request away from founding Team Rocket, Rei.

“I’ll do my best.”

Arceus, please don’t let me die here.

“There you two are!” Adaman startles me amidst my exhaustion and stresses, “I thought I’d meet you halfway.”

“Thanks, Adaman!”

I smile at him, his gaze soft on me, reading my face.

“I don’t think this distortion will last long, but it felt like too big of a threat to not get help.”

“Do you know anything about the distortions- I mean, you fell out of the sky!”

“No, Rei, I don’t know anything.” I snap.

Every damn person has to mention it every two minutes.

“Just because she was brought here doesn’t mean she knows why or how,” Adaman softens the tension, slowing his strides down to meet mine-

Come on, not in front of Rei-

“True,” Rei doesn’t seem affected by anything I’ve said.

I sigh as I follow Rei, a few strides ahead of me and Adaman-

A sudden grip on my hand startling me for a moment, Adaman tightly holding my hand as we walk; his gaze meeting mine for a moment, obviously concerned.

“We’ll get to the settlement before the distortion completely forms,” Rei is smiling.

Of course he’s scared of this; he’s a kid having to work for a grumpy dude with-

“The biggest thing in the settlement is making sure no one is around it and everyone is a safe distance away,” Adaman explains, his thumb softly stroking the skin of my hand, “When it fully appears, everyone needs to be away. The distortion won’t wipe away the settlement but any pokemon might.”

“Anywhere in particular you guys are moving to for now?”

“Close to Lake Valor; some security corps have already helped us make sure there’s no pokemon around while we wait out the distortion.”

I nod as we come up on the settlement; the distortion only 25 yards away from the seemingly abandoned settlement.

“Are we going to be safe, Adaman?” A small voice pipes up- a young girl looking up at him as she holds a doll against her chest.

“Absolutely,” Adaman confidently reassures her, letting go of my hand, “Go with your family; we’ll protect our home.”

God, he’s precious.

“Everyone is cleared out from what we can see.” A security corps member explains, “If there's any stragglers, someone should go behind us and bring them.

“Sounds like a task for you, Rei,” I smile at him, confident in his ability.

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. If anything is pursuing you, we're here, and I'm sure Pikachu is itching to beat something up,” Rei laughs, Adaman looking to the dome again.

“Has everyone gotten anything they want to keep safe with them?” Adaman asks the security corps.

“Anything they can comfortably carry is with them; anything else was put in your tent, per your orders.”

“Good; go ahead with the others.”

“Could you check for anyone now, Rei?” I ask, a little feeling in my gut warning me.

“Do you think there’s anyone left behind?” Adaman faces me, pulling me against him in our moment of not-so-private privacy.

“I just, I just have a gut feeling,” I explain, his arms tightly around me.

“Come with me for a minute,” He whispers, pulling me into a tent I assumed was his, extra trunks stacked in the tent.

“You know we have to keep this a secret,” I lightly scold, his arms wrapping around me again, pulling me flush against him- giving in as I wrap my arms around him.

“I’m aware, but if I’m to be blunt, you look a couple missions away from collapsing,” Adaman gently cradled my head, stroking my hair as I lean more of my weight on him.

“I am,” I admit, his irritated sigh inspiring some sort of possessed confidence in me.

“Don’t kill yourself working, alright?”

“I don’t feel like I have a choice half of the time,” I grumble as he strokes my back.

“Then let me help- Get me and I’ll help you.” “You have a clan to be running.” “Half of me running the clan is making sure no one tries to have a philosophical debate with a Pearl Clan member that ends up with us in a war,” Adaman lightly laughs, “I have time for you; I have time for your health.”

“What if I get kicked out for not being good enough?”

Adaman pauses with an irritated sigh at the proposition.

“Then you come to me and the Galaxy team falls apart because you seem to be the only thing creating any progress.”

“But-”

“If that happens, I will help you; I’m sure Irida would help you too. We’re stubborn, not stupid.”

I laugh at the admission, squeezing him in the hug-

“I think there’s a kid in the distortion- What are you two doing?!”

“A kid?!”

Rei frantically nods, still caught up on us holding each other.

“I’m going, you stay on the outside so if anything happens to me they get out, alright?” I instinctively command Rei, sprinting out of the tent to the distortion, Rei and Adaman following me.

God this one looks intense. Stopping before the wall of the aurora, I sigh a deep sigh,

Well I haven’t died yet,

Running into the distortion.

The terrible, similar sound of wind running throughout the distortion, holding a pokeball in my hand defensively, running through the entrance, trying to find somewhere where a child would be hiding-

Tree, rock, something bigger like that-

A roar scares me, something obviously sighting me as I break out into a sprint-

Find the kid- Escape- Find the kid- Escape-

A sniffle pulls me from my matra for a moment- a little Diamond Clan member clutching onto their clothes, shaking behind a rock. I run over, immediately using myself as a shield-

“It’s alright, I’m here, I’ll protect you,” I whisper, trying to keep anything else from noticing me, holding out my arms to the boy as he immediately ran to me, hiding in my arms-

Now to get out-

A cut breaks into my back, a sharp hiss from a sharp breath through teeth-

“Hold on to me as tight as you can,” I instruct, grabbing him, bracing myself for another hit as I broke out into another sprint-

Something is going to follow me outside of the distortion- oh no.

Something wet seeps into the fabric on my back, the adrenaline doing its job as I finally realize the gash in my back-

Just a little more-

The all too familiar scream of the distortion being exited rings in my ears, panting at the mixture of the gash and the child.

“Are you alright?!” Rei immediately rushes over to me, taking the boy from me.

“Not really,” My voice is weak-

Shit.

Rei retreats to the settlement, carrying the boy as he leads me back to Adamans tent-

“Where’s Adaman?” I ask in a weak panic, Rei sitting the boy by the entrance as he pulls me to sit on a cushion.

“Taking care of whatever caused-” Rei pauses, shock stopping him- “Whatever caused this.”

I weakly nod, Rei’s attention focusing onto any sort of medical supplies he could find- Adaman abruptly entering the tent.

“Are you alright?” Adaman softly asks the boy, the boy rushing to him for a hug- still nodding yes as he seeked comfort.

“You’re safe now, we’ve got you; we’ll take you back to your family,” Adaman promised, the boy quiet from shock but still nodding in agreement. The boy leaves his arms, sitting back down to where he was, Adaman turning his attention to me-

“You’re injured.”

I nod, too weak to talk, Rei still panicking somewhere behind me.

“Let me take care of her, he doesn’t need to see her injured,” Adaman quietly instructs Rei, “Take him to another tent so he can calm down and we can make sure nothing will follow you out of the camp, alright?”

Rei weakly nods, taking the boys hand as he leads him out of the tent, quickly moving to another as Adamans hand on my shoulder startles me=

“Do you feel lightheaded or exhausted?”

“Exhausted,” I mumble, his hands working on pulling off my coat.

“I’m sorry if I see anything, you need to get out of this.”

I hum a weak response, nothing really making sense, the blow taking the wind out of me.

“It might hurt, but I can patch this up; it's surprisingly not very deep,” He explains, the final bits of my top coming off, a blanket placed in my lap, “Just stay awake for me so I don’t accidently hurt you, alright?”

I nod, a sudden touch on my lap startling me, Leafeon curling up in my lap, doing his best to comfort me.

“You need to sleep after this, you’re exhausted,” Adaman scolded and instructed, bandages wrapping around my front to secure some cotton on my back.

“I don’t think I have a choice,” I murmured, slurring together some words as Leafeon rubbed his head against my stomach.

“Let me help you, let me take care of you,” Adaman whispers against my neck, gently kissing the tender skin.

“You don’t need to-”

“I don’t need to, I want to, that’s why I’m asking you to let me,” He sighs with exasperation, “I want to take care of you, if you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” I whisper after a moment, his lips running up my neck to kiss my ear,

“Let me wash my hands and I’ll check on the distortion and Rei.”

I nod.

“Wait why do you need to wash your hands-”

“Because they’re bloody- did you forget you have a gash in your back already?”

“Maybe.”

Adaman sighs, rinsing is hands in a bowl of foggy water,

“Stay with me for a little while; it’ll be a part of the distortion mission.”

“But-“

“I get to make that decision; you’re in my care right now, taking care of my clan, alright?”

“Alright.”

Adaman gently kisses my forehead, exiting the tent to check on the others, Leafeon resting in my lap. Humming to myself, I gently pet Leafeon, his little noises of appreciation making me smile as I finally just rest. The distant sounds of the distortion fading as I rest my eyes.

“It’s gone,” Adaman says, a smile in his voice as he re-enters, sitting beside me and Leafeon, “You two look comfy.”

“I wanna lay down,” I mumble, Leafeon leaving my lap to return to the bed, Adaman helping me stand.

“Just make sure you don’t accidentally sleep on your back, alright?” Adaman instructs me, sitting on the bed and pulling me down to lay with him.

“Mhmm,” I hum as he pulls me against him, helping me lay on my stomach.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need,” Adaman pulls the blanket over us, gently kissing my forehead as Leafeon curls at our feet.

“Alright,” I whisper, blindly kissing his chin before snuggling my head under his chin, a little chuckle warming my chest.

“Sleep well.”

[specialagentsergio]

rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

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

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​

[obscure-imagines]

*Horror genre/smut warning*

-He’d be very tentative to catch feelings for anyone because he’s a very depressed boi

-quiet guy is hard to get to know, especially after an apocalyptic event

-Even if you’re survivors together, he’s just kind of going to be floating around quietly, so if you want to get to know Hyunsu, you’re going to have to make an effort

-Hyunsu is drawn to beautiful things, things that inspire hope (music, kids, etc...) and he can enjoy pleasurable things for a time, but Hyunsu is always terrified that good things will be torn from his grasp, so he never wants to let himself love something too easily

-Boy has his found family, so being accepted by his loved ones would be really important.

-It would be the elder survivors like Han and Gilseob who notice the connection between you and Hyunsu first

-i’m talking hard core pining, long looks, Hyunsu’s eyes finding you any time you enter a room, but you’re both oblivious to each other

-It’s a tough situation because Hyunsu is still treated like a monster at times, and people are obviously scared of his dark side

-Hyunsu can’t even imagine getting close to you, for fear that he’ll hurt you

-his monster alter ego even toys with him by mentioning you sometimes, further increasing the poor boys anxiety

-He’d get growingly agitated any time you have to put yourself in danger, and always ends up going places with you just to make sure you’re protected

-it starts with him just kind of shadowing you when you head up to your apartment for something one day

-the building is pretty much safe, but when you catch Hyunsu out of the corner of your eye, you almost have a heart attack, which he apologizes profusely for

-he goes with you to your room and is kind of awkward at your door because you’re a pretty girl and he’s about to go into your apartment, even if it is a post apocalyptic world, boy has manners

-He’s also just very big and tall, so even though he kind of hunches over, he sticks out like a sore thumb in your apartment

-he’s so quiet, but once you find something you both mutually enjoy to talk about, he begins to loosen up

-he continues shadowing you, he’s pretty much your designated monster survival partner 

-at dinners you start to eat together and everyone is low key hoping you both work out, but are also worried about what it could mean for you if Hyunsu turns full monster out of the blue one day

-He’s very hesitant to allow you to touch him, so you’d have to start small

-like maybe you offer to help him clean up some residual blood left on his skin after he’s healed from a fight

-Hyunsu all but holds his breath while you wipe his skin

-big uwu boy, heart eyes to the extreme

-he honestly just needs a good cuddle and one day, after a particularly rough event where you almost die, Hyunsu is too tired to be in full control of himself, so when you crawl into bed with him, wrapping your arms around his frame, Hyunsu allows himself to enjoy it

-the biggest soft boy is the small spoon sometimes cuz he really needs it

-he falls asleep in your arms and it’s the most peaceful sleep he’s had in maybe years

-when he wakes up, he rolls to cuddle against your chest, still half asleep and unaware of what he’s doing until he can hear the beat of your heart under his ear and realizes you’re not just a pleasantly warm pillow

-boy practically jumps out of the bed and needs to be pulled back into your embrace

-if you start massaging his scalp and holding him to your chest- he’s going to die, like, he’ll never be happier

-He craves your cuddles like nothing else in the whole world, and allows himself more and more to be happy when he’s with you, and to be with you often

-seeing him smile is so odd, people are shook

-the first day you grab his hand in front of people makes his heart melt

-the two of you are simply waiting for dinner, and you grab his hand, playing with his fingers casually

-you don’t even notice how impactful the gesture is

-after dinner, Hyunsu finds himself swept away by the key men of the group, Han thinks it’s all very cute, Gilseob agrees with Han but he’s worried like Eunhyeok that Hyunsu could be a danger to you. Sangwook is just there because they dragged him along

-Hyunsu is still worried he could hurt you and you notice him pulling away after his discussion with the guys, which leads to him fully communicating to you all his fears about being a monster and not being good enough for you

-squash all his anxieties with a kiss

-Hyunsu will melt against you, your lips are the best cure for his busy mind

-if you tug a little at his hair boy will be whipped forever

-once he opens up to you, he’ll tell you everything

-time spent cuddling and just talking

-tracing his scars and kissing them, telling him you’ll never leave him

-him being worried about becoming a monster but you’re so determined he won’t- and you won’t let him try to avoid you for your ‘own safety’ so he’s pretty much just stuck with loving you and accepting that you make him happy and he’s allowed to be happy

-helping him cut his hair and being shook by how much younger he looks

- “do you like it?” he wants to make sure you still like his new hair

-he’s so much more boyish- it honestly makes it worse when his hair is short because people have been straight up offering him up to really hard jobs because he ‘cant die’

-like, you’re going to be fiercely protective of this boy, just as he is of you

-yeah he’s the one that ‘cant die’ but if someone tries to be even slightly mean to him, you’re jumping in and throwing fists

-’oh? you guys think it’s a good idea to sacrifice him to the military/government for our survival? time to meet my fists’ you’ll jump in swinging i swear to god

-you would probably be down to fight Eunhyuck on the daily for how he treats Hyunsu like his watch dog/hound

-low key everyone is prepared to wake up and find you and Hyunsu just gone one day

-he looks at you with the biggest heart eyes, like, boy is so in love with you and anyone can see it

-he’s going to cherish any time with you

-nights are for cuddles and memorizing your face in the moonlight that comes through the windows

-will find you cute little gifts, like, if he knows you like certain books or stuff like that he’ll keep an eye out for things to amuse you when he’s looking for supplies 

-being way too fucking cute. like. this is an apocalypse and this man is just out here being a full fucking simp for you im-

-be careful as he gets more in love with you though because if someone threatens you, his monster side will pop out

-you’re feeling fragile one day and someone says something rude about Hyunsu and ‘how much time he has left’ and when Hyunsu finds you crying, his eyes go black and his monster side demands you tell him who he has to go kill for you

-after that, you can be certain his monster side won’t ever hurt you, which makes Hyunsu feel a lot more relaxed

-boy finally lets you touch him for longer than like five minutes because he’s not scared of loosing himself when he’s with you anymore

-ok, let’s be real, ya’ll would find ways to fuck even during the apocalypse

-boy deserves it. he DESERVES IT I TELL YOU

-soft honey boy, starts so soft, so much kissing and foreplay

-you’d really have to initiate things going farther than just kissing, and he’d worship you if you undressed for him

-10/10 will tell you he loves you while buried completely inside of you

-lots of gripping and passion, breathless kisses, hand holding and finger squeezing

-let him burry his face in your neck

-the sweetest aftercare filled with cuddles, hugs, kisses, and sweet words of affirmation

-he’s super shy about petnames, but you pet your ass that this big soft boi is going to let ‘jagiya’ (honey/sweetheart) slip every once and again.

-super shy about pda around other people, but you purposefully like to show how much you love him to make everyone else think twice about being mean to him or prejudice because he’s ‘infected’, whatever that even means.

-stealing his massive clothes

-taking care of him in ways that count, like making sure his depression doesn’t get the better of him being able to complete basic tasks, like cleaning him after a fight and making sure he eats properly

-being Hyunsu’s proof that humans can live with monsters, because you’ll never let him go and you love him

-i mean, not even going to lie, 10/10 Hyunsu would make living in monster world worth it

[extasiswings]

“I felt it shelter to speak to you.” for Buddie

This was...not supposed to be this long but all the recent promo content has been...inspiring. Anyway...on ao3 here.

The first attack happens on a Saturday afternoon.

There’s nothing special about the day, nothing strange. Christopher is at a friend’s birthday party, Buck is off somewhere with Taylor, and Eddie is grocery shopping before he’s meant to meet Ana for an early dinner.

His shoulder aches a little—that’s what he notices first—but that’s not too unusual. It happens sometimes. Even as physical therapy has helped him regain strength and mobility in his arm and shoulder, a high caliber sniper round ripping through his upper chest is no minor injury. Plus, while he’s hardly ancient, he’s not even as young as he was when he was shot the first time, and those bullets left behind their own patches of scar tissue and occasional twinges.

So. His shoulder aches. It’s fine. He ignores it and moves on. Goes through the store, checks out, put his bags in the backseat—

There’s a glare off a window in the apartment building across the street.

Eddie reaches for the handle of his door.

Suddenly, his fingers start tingling, uncomfortable pricks of icy numbness traveling up his hands like they’ve fallen asleep, but shaking them out doesn’t help. And then, without warning, pain lances through his chest, sharp and acute, and he can’t breathe properly, as if his torso has been trapped in a vise that’s slowly tightening more and more.

His vision swims. He sways on his feet, grasping at the door handle with clumsy, numb fingers to keep himself upright.

He feels like—he feels—

He feels like he’s dying. It strikes him with sudden clarity. He’s dying. Dying in a random parking lot—he always assumed he was too young to have a heart attack but the symptoms fit and he’s just—

He can’t. He can’t die. Not when he’s survived everything else. This can’t be—

“Sir?” There’s a woman with a station wagon parked in the space next to his truck and she’s looking at him with no small amount of concern. “Are you okay?”

Eddie’s mouth is so dry and his breathing so irregular that it takes him a moment to respond.

“I—I think I need to go to the hospital,” he grits out as another wave of dizziness threatens to send him to his knees.

She calls 911. Eddie spares a moment to be grateful that the paramedics who show up a few minutes later aren’t from the 118.

As it turns out, he’s not dying. And he didn’t have a heart attack.

“A panic attack?” Eddie’s voice is distant to his own ears as he stares at the ER doctor in disbelief, his stomach flipping with a new kind of dread. “Are you sure?”

“Your symptoms resolved on their own and your EKG is normal, Mr. Diaz,” she replies as she flicks through the screens of his chart on her tablet. “And nothing in your prior history or other recent tests indicates that there’s anything physically wrong with you—you were healthy before you were shot and your recovery has progressed smoothly up to this point.”

She pauses and looks back at him. “Have you...spoken to a therapist? I noticed that your treating physician made a referral for counseling when you were originally discharged, but…”

Eddie clears his throat roughly. “Yeah, no, I, uh...with the PT schedule and everything else going on, I never followed up with that. But I’ve been fine. It never seemed necessary.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Diaz,” the doctor says, “you’re in the emergency room because of an acute stress response in which your brain tricked your body into believing you were in danger to such an extent that you thought you were dying. I’m not sure you’re as fine as you think.”

There’s probably some truth to that. Eddie can admit that much. But that doesn’t mean he needs—he’s been shot before. He’s been in a warzone. He didn’t need therapy to move forward from it then and he shouldn’t now. He can—he can handle this. He can make himself get over it.

He’s already spent months leaning heavily on everyone around him. The thought of not being okay, of asking for more help when he’s finally easing back into working, when things are finally getting back to normal, when they all have their own issues to focus on—

God, it makes him want to throw up.

So...no. He’s okay. Because not being okay isn’t an option.

He’s fine. The panic attack was...a fluke.

“I appreciate the advice,” Eddie says finally. “I’ll think about it.”

He can tell the doctor doesn’t believe him when her lips thin.

“You know, more likely than not, the panic attacks will keep happening if you do nothing,” she points out. “Ignoring this won’t make it go away.”

“I understand,” Eddie replies. “If that’s all, does that mean I can get out of here?”

The doctor sighs. “Sure.”

Eddie’s phone rings while he’s in an Uber on the way back to his truck. It’s Ana.

He swears under his breath as he sees the time—he hadn’t called anyone, hadn’t wanted the hospital to call anyone either, but that means he’s now late for a date that he doesn’t really want to keep after everything and further doesn’t leave him with any good excuses for his absence except the truth which...he doesn’t really want to admit.

Before the shooting, Carla told him to make sure he was following his heart. And he’s been too exhausted and focused on his recovery to really think too hard about that. But now—

For a moment, Eddie considers it. Telling Ana the truth. Showing her some of the dark, messy, ugly pieces of himself. Being vulnerable.

The very idea makes him recoil. Not because he thinks she would run away necessarily, but because he just...can’t.

He can’t. Not with her.

And if he’s that uncomfortable with the idea of letting in someone he’s been dating for over half a year, if he can’t imagine himself ever actually being comfortable with that...then what the hell is he doing?

He calls her back when he gets to his truck.

“Hey—I’m so sorry, I had a little emergency—yeah, everything’s fine now, but I’m not sure I’m up for going out. Can I meet you at your place? ...okay, great. See you soon.”

He may know even less about ending a relationship than he does about dating in general, but he figures he at least owes it to her to end things in person.

*

Eddie goes to work on Monday feeling fine. Great, even. He sleeps well the night before, he gets Christopher off to school on time, traffic is light enough that he gets to the station early—

Everything is fine. By all accounts it should be a good day.

At least, that’s what he thinks right up until all of them get different emergency alerts sent to their phones and they find out the city’s systems have been hacked. From that point forward, everything is chaos. Damage control. Twenty-car pile-ups because stoplights are being messed with, an outbreak of animals from the zoo when the electric locks on their enclosures released—

Eddie’s fine though. He’s fine. It’s nothing he can’t handle—in fact, he’s usually great with chaos. He’s focused and sure and capable. Nothing else matters but the work, certainly not himself. When he’s busy, he has no time to think about anything else.

The gradually worsening tension in his shoulders can be ignored. The way he has to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking in a way he hasn’t had to do since his earliest days in Afghanistan can be brushed off. He doesn’t have time to think about anything but the jobs in front of him, which means he doesn’t have time to think about his own state.

Brush it off, pick yourself up, keep moving forward. That’s what he knows, that’s what he can do.

Except, then they end up at the hospital and—

A medevac helicopter falls off the roof. Bobby nearly joins it. Buck and Eddie barely manage to get him back.

A cold sweat breaks out on Eddie’s brow as Bobby leans heavily against the wall next to the roof access door to catch his breath. His stomach roils. He doesn’t feel fully connected to his own body, caught somehow between present and past, a rooftop in Los Angeles and a desert in Afghanistan.

He breathes in. He tamps down on the rising panic.

Bobby is fine. The helicopter pilots and their patient are fine.

He’s fine. He’s fine.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie jumps at the question, his head whipping around to find the source. Buck’s brow furrows as he holds up his hands.

“Sorry,” Buck says quietly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Eddie swallows hard and shakes his head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it.”

He glances toward the door. “You know, I think I’m going to head back down,” he says, hoping Buck won’t notice the fact that he hasn’t answered the original question. “I want to make sure the pilots are holding up alright.”

“I can come—” Buck starts to offer, only for Eddie to cut him off.

“Someone should stay with Bobby,” he replies. He forces a smile as Buck’s eyes search his face. “I’ll be fine.”

Buck glances at Bobby, then back to Eddie before he finally nods.

“Okay,” he says. “But here, take the radio. If anything happens—”

“I’ll let you know.”

Eddie makes it down one flight of stairs before he decides to take the elevator the rest of the way down. The numbers on the top of the doors tick down, down, down—

And then, abruptly, the elevator lurches to a halt, throwing Eddie off balance and into the wall as the lights go out, plunging him into total darkness.

His ears ring from the impact.

He’s trapped. Trapped in a metal box in the dark. A box that could easily become a coffin if the emergency stop failed and sent it careening down to crash at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

Eddie’s breathing speeds up against his will. His chest starts to hurt.

Not again, he thinks vaguely. Not here, not now, not again.

But. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. Some distant part of his mind recognizes that what he’s feeling isn’t real, that he just needs to calm down, but he can’t—

He’s going to die. He’s going to—

The radio crackles in his belt.

“Eddie? Eddie! Can you hear me?”

Eddie’s mind latches onto the sound of Buck’s voice like a lifeline in an ocean of distress. It takes him a moment to make his trembling hands work through their numbness, to remind his fingers how to work the buttons, but eventually, he lifts the radio to his mouth.

“I’m here,” he says. His voice shakes. “I’m in the elevator. It’s—I don’t know which floor. Or if I’m between floors. I don’t—”

He shudders. His eyes close, not that it really matters given how dark the space is already.

“It’s okay,” Buck replies. “It’s okay, Eddie, we’ll find you. We’ll get you out, don’t worry.”

“I don’t want to die here.” It slips out of him before he can pull it back. Buck takes a sharp breath on the other end of the line.

“That’s not going to happen,” Buck says firmly, although his own voice seems less steady than usual. “I would never let that happen. I’ve got your back, remember? Always.”

A shudder rips down Eddie’s spine and he slides against the wall to sit on the floor. The walls still feel too restricting, like they’re closing in on him more each moment that he looks away.

The radio crackles again.

“Eddie. What can I do? What do you need?” Buck asks.

I don’t know. I don’t—I can’t—

“Eddie.” The fear and desperation in Buck’s voice cuts through the fog in Eddie’s mind.

He never wants Buck to sound like that.

“Keep talking?” Eddie replies. “I—just keep talking to me. Please?”

Don’t go, is what he really means. Stay with me.

He’s never allowed himself to say those things though. Not during the early days of the pandemic when they were sharing a bed in Buck’s loft. Not after he moved back home with Christopher and the other side of his bed felt too empty for sleep to come easily. And certainly not after he started dating Ana.

During his recovery, he never had to ask Buck for anything really. Buck was always just...there. Even though he was with Taylor, he was still there with Eddie and with Christopher whenever Eddie needed him. Like he knew somehow. Or maybe as if he needed to be there as much as Eddie needed him there.

Eddie hasn’t looked too closely at any of that. He’s not ready to. It’s too much, too complicated, too—too—

Dangerous.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Eddie swallows hard as his head rests against the wall. As he allows the sound of Buck’s voice to wrap around him like armor. Like home. Insulating him against the panic and isolation.

“Anything,” he says quietly. “Just keep talking.”

And Buck does. He talks about everything and nothing, random facts and stories from his past that Eddie hasn’t heard before, he talks and talks and talks until his voice grows hoarse in Eddie’s ear and the pressure on Eddie’s lungs eases.

Eddie exhales shakily and takes a few deep breaths as he continues to listen, as his body shifts from hyper-awareness and panic to wrung out exhaustion. When Buck finally cuts off, it’s because there’s an ugly screech of metal as the elevator doors are pried open, as light filters back in.

Eddie’s legs are unsteady as he gets to his feet. He trips on the edge of the elevator door when he exits—

Buck catches him before he can fall. Because of course he does.

“Thank you,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s shoulder as he finds his balance.

Buck shakes his head. “I promised we’d get you out, didn’t I? Besides, I—I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“I decided—”

“I shouldn’t have let you,” Buck repeats, low but insistent. His eyes meet Eddie’s and Eddie swallows hard.

“You weren’t okay. Were you?” Buck asks. And Eddie—

He wants to lie. Part of him does at least.

But he can’t lie to Buck.

Not to Buck.

“No,” he confesses. It’s half a whisper. “No, I wasn’t.”

Buck bites his lip and nods once.

“Okay,” he says. “We’ll figure it out.”

And somehow, Eddie believes him.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 25 - The Family Dinner [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 5300

Summary: Family time can be chaotic.

Sharing secrets was difficult, but sharing secrets about one’s past was quite possibly one of the most difficult things that a person could do with who they loved. You knew how difficult it was for Spencer to talk about his past with you, but he stood by his word and told you absolutely everything, with nothing to hide. By the time you finished that conversation, it was almost dawn and yet you didn’t feel tired at all.

After that night, something changed but it wasn’t a bad change like Spencer feared.

You felt even closer to him, if such a thing was possible. In the following week, your relationship was better than ever-

Well.

Until now.

“I don’t believe this,” you shook your head, “I just… I refuse to believe this. After everything we’ve been through, I don’t even want to believe you’d put yourself in harm’s way and betray me like this. I get that you have no regard for your happiness, but doing this?” you ran a hand over your face, “This is too much, Spencer. You have no idea what you’re walking into, what kind of danger that’s going to be waiting there to ruin you!”

Spencer just raised his brows, then looked between the two ties he was holding up.

“So that’s a no to the blue one?”

“No to this whole thing!” you let out a groan, falling back to the bed, “No to this dinner with my family nonsense!”

He chuckled at your dramatics as you huffed out.

“Don’t you think maybe you’re worried about the wrong thing?” he asked, “You’re also meeting your father today.”

“But we know my father is a sadistic cruel demon sent to earth to make everyone’s life miserable,” you pointed out, keeping your eyes on the ceiling, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but my father isn’t the only dangerous person in my family.”

“It’s just a dinner.”

“No, that’s what they want you to think,” you insisted, sitting up in bed, “Before you know it, they invite you to our place by the lovely countryside, and you’ll walk in thinking it’s just like any other place, there are wolves howling outside and-“

“Why are you giving me the plot of Dracula right now?”

“Because that’s what they are!” you exclaimed, “They’re like vampires! Have you ever wondered why my sister was named Mina? Dracula’s Mina!”

“Your mother loves horror books?”

“Spencer you can’t ignore the signs!” you insisted as he started tying his tie, a small grin pulling at his lips, “They’ll- they’ll suck the life out of you! By the time the dinner is over, you will be begging to see the sunlight again, and you will never be able to. Figuratively speaking.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve already met all of them,” he said patiently and you felt your heart melt, “In case you forgot.”

“Yes, and do you remember how that went?” you asked, “Nolan threatened you, my mother treated you like she was going to hire you and questioned you about everything, and Mina… Mina is a warning by existence.”

“Kenzie was nice though.”

“Yeah, she’s the only good person in our family,” you muttered, then turned your head when you felt his glances on you. “What?”

“Nolan is a part of your family?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you scrunched up your face and grabbed your lip liner and lipstick to walk to the mirror, uncapped it and started applying it, “I’m going to have a billionaire stepfather who looks like a puppy around my mother— that’s not the point.” You put the lipstick into your purse and went to sit down on the bed again while he ran his fingers through his curls as if trying to keep them under control, “I just don’t want you to change your mind because my family doesn’t know how to act normal.”

“Change my mind about what?”

“About this,” you motioned between you and that was more than enough to make him turn his head, his brows furrowed. “I love them, but they’re going to be overly prying, overly dramatic, overly….everything and the next thing we know—“

“That’s never going to happen,” he approached you to crouch down so that he could look at you better, then reached out to entwine his fingers with yours, “That’s why you were so nervous about this?”

You pursed your lips, heaving a sigh and shrugged silently.

“Do you remember what you said to me a couple of days ago, that night?” he asked, “How trust works both ways?”

“You already know almost everything about my past.”

“That’s not it,” he shook his head, “This is about our present, and future.”

“Or lack thereof,” you commented dryly, making him chuckle.

“Do you seriously believe that?”

“They can be a little intimidating.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured you, “And no matter what happens tonight, or on dinners to come with-“

“Social vampires.”

“With your family,” he corrected you, “It won’t change anything. I promise.”

You cupped his cheek, running your fingertips over his slight stubble and he turned his head to place a kiss into your palm, nuzzling there.

“Fine,” you murmured, “Let’s go see my sadistic demon father then. Should be enough of a practice for tonight.”

                                              ***

When you and Spencer got to the prison your father was held in, Luke was already by the hallway, waiting for you.

“Hey,” he said, “He’s going to be ready in five.”

You nodded, “Okay.”

“And don’t worry, after you guys are done here, I’m taking him to bullpen and he will leave at 7 p.m. latest. Rossi promised, even if there’s a dead body he’s gonna attend the dinner tonight.”

You looked up at Spencer, “Wait, there was a possibility of you not attending if someone ends up dead?”

“I mean if there’s a case…”

“Please don’t kill someone so that you guys can avoid this dinner,” Luke pointed out and you made a face at him, “We took you off our suspects list way too soon.”

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned and one of the guards opened the door.

“He’s ready.”

“I’ll be behind the glass if you two need anything.” Luke said and Spencer squeezed your hand as if trying to assure you everything would be alright.

“Come on,” he coaxed and you nodded, then took a deep breath and entered the interrogation room, Spencer following you. Your father looked up, then raised his brows.

“Oh look at you two, together again,” he said and you rolled your eyes, trying your hardest not to show how nervous you were. You took your seat across from him beside Spencer, and crossed your arms.

“John.”

“Dr. Reid.”

“So that’s why you haven’t had the time to come and see me lately,” your father motioned between you, “I can hardly say I approve but…”

“Oh that’s good. I’d probably kill myself if I did something you’d approve of.”

“Honey, you’re surrounded by CEOs and businessmen, and you went for an FBI agent?”

“What the fuck does that have to do with-”

“How much do you make monthly?” he asked, turning to Spencer, “I mean, I need to make sure-“

“Oh shut up, will you?” you cut him off, “He’s going to be hearing all that nonsense and more tonight, I don’t need this from you too.”

“Tonight?”

You and Spencer exchanged glances and he shrugged slightly, as if telling you to continue. A small smile pulled at your lips and you turned to your father.

“We’re having a family dinner tonight,” you said, “Naturally it doesn’t include you, so there’s one good thing about this bullshit, I guess.”

“Well, if it doesn’t include me you could hardly call it a family dinner.”

Your smile widened and you clicked your tongue,

“Nah, Nolan is going to be there so we’ll be fine. The whole family is there.”

Your father frowned, “Nolan?”

“Yeah,” you said, “Yeah, mom’s boyfriend.”

A silence fell upon the room as he stared at you for a couple of seconds,

“Your mother has a boyfriend now?”

You hissed in a breath,

“You’re right, boyfriend doesn’t exactly cut it,” you said, “He’s going to propose, so I guess we could call him mom’s future husband-“

“You’re lying,” he cut you off and you tilted your head.

“Am I though?”

“She wouldn’t get married,” he shook his head, “No way.”

A laughter escaped from your lips, “Why not?” you asked, “Because she loves you?”

“Yes she does.”

“The last time I checked, she called you a monster and was hoping you would die as soon as possible,” you stated, “Barely a love story.”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand,” he said through his teeth, “Your mother and I were in love, Petal. We still are, regardless of divorce, or this.” He motioned around the room and you blinked a couple of times, trying to wrap your mind around it.

“Jesus, you really are delusional.”

Spencer muttered your name to remind you to be careful, but you shook your head, keeping your eyes on your father.

“I’m pretty sure Nolan could buy this whole prison,” you motioned around, “I should suggest that, as a wedding gift.”

“They won’t get- hold on,” your father said, “Did you say Nolan? Nolan Yates?”

“Mm hm.”

“Nolan fucking Yates is going after my wife?”

“Ex-wife who hates your guts,” you corrected him and he gritted his teeth.

“I knew it,” he spat, “The first time I saw him at that gala, I saw the way he looked at your mother. They’re not getting married.”

“Okay then you lunatic,” you scoffed “I guess you need something to have delusions about while we’re out there moving on—“

It happened in a flash. One second you were talking, the next you were cut off as your father jumped on his feet, Spencer pushing you out of your chair to behind him almost automatically.

Then, something in Spencer’s eyes shifted.

He grabbed him by the arm, twisted it and slammed him down to the table in front of you, making you cover your mouth, your heart beating in your throat as the door opened with a bang and Luke and two guards came in.  Luke was the first to pull Spencer off of your father, telling him to let go while one of the guards grabbed you and pushed you out of the room before he made his way to your father still trying to get out of the handcuffs and lunge at them as if he was a man possessed. They dragged him out of the interrogation room to what you assumed was the hall that led to his cell while you stood still by the wall, trying your hardest to snap out of it but your mind was almost foggy.

“Excuse me,” you managed to say as you made your way to the bathroom, your hands still shaking. Thankfully no one was there, so you rested your palms on the sink, taking a deep breath before you turned on the tap, holding your hands under the ice cold water.

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, “It’s fine. You’re fine. It happens, you have a fucked up family.”

You rolled your shoulders back, that crazy light in your father’s eyes flashing in your mind before you shook your head, exhaling slowly.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice reached inside as he knocked on the door, “Can I come in?”

Your heart was still pacing in your chest but you cleared your throat.

“Yeah,” you called out and he stepped inside, his lips pulled into a thin line as he offered you a small smile.

“Hi,” he said gently, still keeping his distance, standing by the now closed door. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, crossing your arms, adrenaline still pulsing through you, “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m sorry,” he said and you pulled your brows together.

“Huh?”

“That you had to see that,” he said, “I know I shouldn’t have slammed him down like that, but when he lunged at you, I just…. I saw red. I understand that it was hard to watch and I apologize—“

“Hold on,” you cut him off, gawking at him “You’re apologizing because you stopped that psycho from lunging at me?”

Spencer frowned as if he was confused at your own confusion, and nodded.

“Yeah. Human mind is very complex, so even if you think you hate him, it could’ve been difficult for you to see him hurt, not to mention it was me who did that. Jung has a theory that states—“

“Spencer,” You interrupted him again, “Lock the door.”

His frown deepened but he did as you asked, but he didn’t get to ask why when you walked to him and pulled him into a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes. His hand cradled your head, a sigh of content escaping him but he pulled back when you grabbed his tie to loosen it.

“Wait, here?” he asked, “Y/N, this is a bathroom.”

“Yeah, I’m aware?”

“Do you have any idea how unsanitary this place probably is?”

“Oh, very unsanitary,” you stated, “On the other hand, though…”

You shrugged your shoulders and pulled your silk blouse over your head, so that he could see you in your bra. He stared at you for a moment and he swallowed thickly, his eyes snapping up to yours when you giggled.

“You make a good point,” he muttered before he pulled you into a kiss and walked you back to the sink.

                                                ***

Unfortunately, the rest of the day wasn’t that fun, especially when it was time to get to your mother’s house for the family dinner. You had insisted on picking Spencer up from work after you were done at your work, so that you would at least try to change his mind on the road again, but when you actually arrived to your mother’s place, he still looked like he wanted to do this.

“Last warning,” you said as Spencer looked up at the house, then twirled the flower bouquet in his hand, “Not too late to change your mind professor.”

“I’ll be fine, come on,” he offered his free hand and you took it, then both of you climbed the stairs to the front door.

“I’m a little nervous, in case you couldn’t tell.”

“You hummed the Darth Vader theme for the whole road,” Spencer reminded you, “I had a feeling you were nervous, yeah.”

“Abandon hope all ye enter here,” you quoted Dante as you both reached the door and Spencer scoffed a laugh.

“Ah we went from the den of vampires into the gates of hell, then?”

“Yeah! As Dante would put it, to a place we come where nothing shines.”

“I doubt he envisioned this when he was talking about the circles of hell.” He rang the doorbell and you let out a small whine, looking up at the dark sky.

“There are worse people than me out there,” you said as the footsteps came closer, “Why am I being subjected to—“

“Spencer!” your mother greeted him as she opened the door and you frowned.

“Since when do you answer the door?” you asked and she shot you a look before smiling at Spencer.

“Hello Ms. Knight.”

“Welcome, both of you!” she gasped at the flowers, “For me?”

“Oh—yes, of course.”

“They’re lovely, thank you!” she said and took them from him, “Come in, come in!”

“No I’m serious, did something happen to Tina? You never answer the door.”

“It’s nice to see you too sweetie, I see we started our dramatics on the way.” she kissed your cheek and you smiled.

“Hi mom.”

“Let me put these in a vase.”

“Spencer!” a gleeful scream rang in the hallway as your mother went to the kitchen and Lily threw herself at Spencer who crouched down as soon as he saw her “Hi!”

“Hi there! Whoa, you’re very strong!”

“Just in time for bedtime,” Kenzie walked into the hallway with a wine glass in her hand, “Hi guys.”

“I told mommy you’re a magician! And grandma, and Nolan too!” Lily counted with her fingers, “And I told them- I told them you can make coins disappear, and that you can do magic with paper, and then—“

“Bug, breathe,” you said, “Also, where’s my hug?”

Lily hastily rushed to you to hug you, then turned to Spencer as if she wasn’t interrupted while he just watched her with a fond smile on her face, listening intently to everything she was saying, and that warm feeling spread through your stomach again.

“And then I told Bobby I know a superhero, then he told me superheroes can’t be magicians but he’s wrong! Do you use magic to catch bad guys? Because if you do, I can help you with your superhero name!”

“Alright, auntie time.” you lifted her up into your arms as Spencer straightened up, “Sorry about that.”

“No, don’t,” Spencer shook his head, still smiling, “Please, I… she’s amazing.”

“Lily,” Kenzie said, “Bed time, come on.”

“Can you show me a magic trick please and thank you?” Lily said breathlessly and Spencer let out a laugh before turning to Kenzie.

“Is that okay?”

“Sure thing.”  

Spencer took out a coin from his pocket and held it in her sight, “Alright Lily, this is just a coin, right?”

“Don’t let him trick you,” you whispered to Lily who giggled, then nodded fervently after checking the coin.

“Yes.”

“Okay, keep your eyes on it,” Spencer showed it to her one more time before he put it into his palm, closed his palm and when he opened it, the coin was nowhere to be seen. Lily gasped, her jaw dropping and you couldn’t help but smile at her expression, her eyes shining with awe. You pressed a kiss on her cheek as Kenzie took her from you, and she let out a whine.

“But you all will have fun here!” she murmured, pouting and you heaved a sigh.

“Lily I can assure you, no one will have fun here.”

“Don’t be like that,” Kenzie shot you a look and smiled at Spencer. “She didn’t intimidate you, did she?”

“She tried,” Spencer said as you wrapped your arms around his torso and he kissed the top of your head, “Didn’t exactly work though.”

“For some reason,” you grumbled and Lily waved at you.

“Night night!”

“Good night!”

“I’ll see you later bug!” you said and entwined your fingers with Spencer’s, then pulled him to the dining room where Kenzie and Nolan were talking. Before you could even greet them, the sight of the dinner table caught your eye and you gawked at all the food there, your mother was definitely out of control and this was the proof of it.

There was enough food for a small army.

“Oh God please don’t tell me we’re going to have live music too,” you muttered and Mina raised her brows.

“Yeah, you might want to lower your expectations,” she shot a fake smile at Spencer, “But then again, that seems to be the theme of tonight. Hi Dr. Reid.”

You gritted your teeth, glaring at her and of course the jab didn’t escape Spencer’s attention, but he chose not to respond with the same sarcasm.

“Hi again.”

“Welcome, Dr. Reid,” Nolan smiled, “Y/N.”

“Hi Mr. Yates.”

“Nolan.”

“So this is where you grew up?” Spencer asked you as you led him away from them towards the library, and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you said, “Right over there me and Mina got into a fight and she pushed me into a vase.”

“Ouch.”

“Spent the next ten minutes begging me not to tell mom. Over there,” you pointed at the corner, “Used to be this huge Christmas tree every year.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and we used to have another room next to this, dad’s study, but after he was arrested and we all figured out how evil he was, mom grabbed a sledgehammer and smashed the—“

“Dinner is ready!” your mother called out and you heaved a sigh.

“Just saying, we could just tell them there’s been a murder.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” he smiled at you fondly and you shook your head, Kenzie entering the living room again.

“I’ve been called stubborn before.”

“Can’t imagine why,” he joked as he kissed you on the forehead and you turned to your family who was slowly taking their seats around the table, then both of you approached the table to sit down as well.

“I’m so glad we decided to have this dinner,” your mother clasped her hands, “It was about time, wouldn’t you say?”

Spencer smiled at her after thanking the maid who was filling his glass, “Thank you for inviting me Ms Knight.”

“Y/N was trying to make him change his mind,” Kenzie sang and your mother tilted your head.

“Spencer, I promise you we’re not as bad as my daughter tries to make you believe.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad,” you defended yourself, “I’m just saying you might be a little too much.”

“Define too much.”

You gawked at her and motioned at the table, making Spencer chuckle silently beside you.

“I really appreciate the effort you put into this,” he added, making your mother smile.

“Why thank you, Spencer,” she said and turned to Nolan, “Honey, Spencer works for the BAU as you know, you should introduce him to your friend.”

“Your friend?” Kenzie asked.

“The head of FBI,” Nolan said, “That’s a great idea. He might also help you in any position you want in the bureau.”

Spencer blinked a couple of times, as if he was at loss for words, then cleared his throat.

“Thank you,” he said “I already- I already have the position that I want though.”

“Ah for the future,” Nolan waved a hand and your mother sipped her drink.

“Yeah, now that it came up,” she said, “What are your future plans?”

“Mom,” you said warningly and Mina leaned back, looking between you with a smirk on her face.

“It’s just a question, don’t be so nervous,” she commented and Kenzie arched a brow at her.

“Mina.”

“No it’s okay,” Spencer pushed his hair behind his ear, “I um… I think I’d like to focus more on teaching.”

You lowered your glass, “Hm? Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I mean I do love BAU, they’re my family but seeing murders every single day, seeing all those victims, it becomes too much sometimes. But I love teaching already, so I think I will do that. In the future, I mean.”

“Oh how lovely. How about something other than your career though? In your future, would you say you’re planning to have chi—“

“New topic,” you cut her off quickly, “I saw dad today, and he knows you two are dating now.”

Your mother frowned but Nolan reached out to squeeze her hand, “It’s okay, he would learn eventually.”

“He actually thinks he is in love with you,” you told your mom and she scoffed.

“Please don’t say that, we’re eating,” she said, “I don’t want to feel nauseous.”

“It’s actually understandable that he’s under that disillusion.” Spencer said, making all of you turn to him, “Especially people in his situation, they feel this need to hold onto some outside world that’s waiting for them to get out of their minds. In a way, he hopes that because if he feels cut off from here, he will probably crash down. It’s very common in people who are imprisoned.”

“Well he can hope all he wants, I never want to see him again.”

“I’m sure Y/N doesn’t want to see him again either, but she’s not that lucky, thanks to FBI. What do you think about that, Spencer?” Mina asked, and Spencer looked at her.

“I think that’s a decision left to her.”

“Is it though?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Mina I need you to remember what I was like when we had dinner with Kenzie, and return the favor.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means shut the fuck up.”

“Y/N!” your mom gasped and Mina tilted her head.

“Ah well, excuse me if not all of us are in a forgiving mood unlike you.”

“None of that!” your mother said, “Both of you, honestly…”

“Spencer, you strike me as a whiskey guy,” Nolan said, attracting his attention, “I purchased a bottle of limited series in an auction in London the other day, would you like to try it after dinner?”

“Sure,” he nodded fervently and you held up your hand.

“I want to try that too. And what about that rum you were talking about the other day? Is it here too?”

“Sure thing.” Nolan snapped his fingers, “In fact, I know a great distillery, why don’t we visit there after dinner?”

You lifted your head, “That could be fun. Where?”

“Costa Rica.”

Spencer looked between you, “You—um, you want to go to Costa Rica after dinner?”

“We could take the jet. We’d be back before the dawn, obviously.”

“People,” you cleared your throat, “Has no one read the normalcy manual I e-mailed you the other day?”

“Yes but the manual said we could talk about drinks.” Nolan said and Spencer turned to you, frowning.

“Normalcy manual?”

“I just thought it’d be useful for tonight.”

“Oh it was very useful,” Mina commented, “Especially the footnote about murders, even if it was unnecessary. No one will joke about murder Y/N, we don’t want your boyfriend to arrest you again after—“ she was cut off as Kenzie kicked her leg under the table, and Spencer pursed his lips, as if he still felt guilty about that.

“I wasn’t in the city,” he said calmly, looking her dead in the eye, “I came back as soon as I heard, I was trying to get her out when you got there.”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” you said, “Mina , stop it will you?”

She didn’t even look like she heard you, “Get her out? Ah so that’s why I walked into that interrogation room when she was being hounded by your team?”

“Okay!” Kenzie said loudly, throwing the napkin on the table, “I’m so sorry, I just remembered something about Lily’s school that we missed. Babe, can you come with me to the kitchen for a moment please?”

Mina huffed out and put her glass down, then pushed her chair back and followed Kenzie to the kitchen.

“Honestly….” you downed your drink and motioned for another one but then Spencer squeezed your hand under the table, as if trying to assure you.

“I bet you miss the serial killers right now huh?” you mumbled and he tilted your head, humoring you.

“Drinks are better here,” he admitted and you tried to smile before you grabbed your cigarette pack from your purse.

“I’m gonna go to the backyard for a moment to smoke,” you said and your mother shot you a look.

“It’s dinner time, Y/N.”

“It’ll take like five minutes, tops,” you said and pushed your chair back, “I need some fresh air anyway. Spencer?”

“Sure, I’ll come with you,” he said and followed you down the hall until you reached the door to the backyard, opened it and stepped outside.

It was a silent night, as silent as it could be in the middle of the city. You looked up at the stars as you lit your cigarette, then heaved a sigh and leaned back to Spencer’s chest when he wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.

“I apologize on her behalf,” you said and he shook his head.

“You don’t have to,” he muttered, “She has a point. I should’ve… I should’ve been there, in that interrogation room.”  

You looked up at him, then reached up to run your fingernails over his slight scruff while he lowered his head to press his nose into the crook of your neck, nuzzling there.

“Spencer, you need to stop blaming yourself,” you said slowly, “I mean it. I don’t blame you for that at all— and….you know Mina. She just turns into someone else when it comes to protecting the family. She doesn’t mean it, not really.”

He nodded silently and you combed back his hair with your fingers, making him heave a sigh.

“This is nice,” he muttered and you let out a small laugh.

“So are you ready to admit that I was right?”

“Hm?”

“I said you would regret it, do you regret it yet?”

“The dinner?”

“Yeah.”

He shook his head “No.”

“Why not?”

His arms around you tightened and he pressed a kiss to your neck, “Because you’re here.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours and you stubbed your cigarette before you turned to him. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but stare at him under the dim lights of the backyard before you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his.

“God, I love you so much,” you said, making him smile, “Thank you for being here and… I don’t know, going through this absolute torture. I know it’s a lot.”

“Hey,” he cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your cheekbone, “I need you to listen to me, okay?”

You nodded, looking up at him.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” his voice was silent, almost hesitant, “To make you happy. You know that, right?”

You could feel the burning in your eyes and you sniffled, your heart skipping a beat before you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest. The rest of the world felt like it disappeared as you swayed from side to side, inhaling his scent and you pulled back.

“I know now,” you wiped at your nose, clearing your throat and he pushed your hair behind your ear.

“Good,” he grinned, “Glad we cleared that out.”

Someone knocked on the door and you turned your head to see Mina as she opened the glass door.

“So about earlier,” she leaned sideways to the doorframe, “Apologies and remorse, etc.”

“That means she’s sorry for what happened earlier,” you said helpfully and Spencer scoffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said, “I get it. Trust me, I felt exactly the same when I saw the tape, but I was trying to get her out with minimum damage.”

Mina nibbled on her lip, eyeing him up and down.

“I guess,” she said, “But just so you both know, mom and Nolan are actually planning a weekend trip to Costa Rica. It’s like what happened with Kenzie all over again, only there’s two of them now.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered and Mina nodded at Spencer.

“Yeah so you might need to tell them you have murders to solve during the weekend Sherlock, because they’re not going to listen to us.” she said and Spencer looked down at you.

“I’ll be there in a second,” you said and he pressed a kiss into your hair before making his way inside. Mina lingered there for a moment, inspecting her fingernails in a complete nonchalant manner.

“I guess I could trust you to know what you’re doing,” she said, “Just make sure he doesn’t screw you over, okay?”

You raised your brows, then clicked your tongue.

“Kenzie said no sex unless you apologize huh?”

“She meant it too!” Mina whined as you walked past her, letting out a laugh.

“Unbelievable,” you shook your head with a smile, making your way to the dining room. “All of you.”

Chapter 26 

[thatrandomwriter]

Rooftop Romance

merle x reader

warnings: swearing, gore, sexual language

“You sure he’s worth it?” T-Dog asked, skepticism written across his face.

“Him and Daryl are our best hunters. They may both share about three brain cells, and Merle is about the biggest asshole I’ve ever met-“

“Hey, fuck you,” Merle cut in. I ignored him.

“But the fact is we need them to survive. We’ll make it out of the city, but you need to go before the others leave without you,”

T-Dog looked conflicted, but after a few seconds he dashed out of the door, racing down the stairs. I pulled the door shut, locking it behind him. There was a strong chance that I had just ensured my own death as well as Merle’s. The sound of the dead beating on the door almost as soon as T-Dog had left seemed to give Merle the same idea.

“Well fucking come on then princess, I ain’t getting any younger over here.” He had that god awful smirk plastered across his face. “You know, there’s a lot I can do with these hands. Maybe I can show ya once I’m free,” he made a crude gesture with his cuffed hand.

“Maybe if you didn’t say shit like that all the time, someone might actually wanna fuck you. You’re disgusting, you know that?”

Instead of waiting for his no-doubt even worse reply, I walked over to see what had been left in Dale’s toolbox. It was mostly screwdrivers and spanners, nothing of any use to me, but I noted a hammer and most importantly a hacksaw. Hopefully it would be strong enough to get through the metal of Merle’s handcuff.

“Call me disgusting all ya like, everyone knows you want a piece of this,”

My cheeks grew hot and I fumbled the saw, almost dropping it as I walked over to him. It was a humiliating feeling to know that he was right. To know that despite what a piece of shit he was, over the few weeks I’d known him, I had developed some form of feelings for him. Merle had found me while out checking the camp’s perimeter with Shane. Having just escaped the city, I was exhausted and terrified, and just about ready to collapse on the forest floor and give up. Of course, Merle’s reasoning for taking me back likely had more to do with wanting to fuck me than anything else, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that Shane would have taken me back if Merle hadn’t been there to bear witness. We weren’t exactly close, but we shared a fondness for drinking and he taught me a few things about using a crossbow. I didn’t fool myself into thinking he wanted anything more than a one time fling with me; he flirted with just about anything with tits. But some small, stupid part of me still hoped for more.

I sat next to him, pulling his hand toward me to get a better look at the handcuffs. When I looked up, he was staring into my face with another stupid grin. I sent him a glare back.

“Come on now, don’t be like that. Last I checked we’re all alone up here, no-one needs to know, part from maybe a few walkers,”

“Would you quit it? I’m trying to save your life.”

“Jus’ trying to lighten the mood. You should really try lightening up sometime, wouldn’t kill ya,”

I rolled my eyes, corner of my mouth twitching upwards slightly.

“Looks like cutting through the cuffs is gonna be a no go, but this pipe you’ve been cuffed too looks pretty old. It’s worth a try at least,” I lined up Dale’s saw, and began working at the metal.

“So I’m gonna be stuck with a friendship bracelet from Officer Friendly?”

The thought made me laugh a little.

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it; threatening everyone with a gun wasn’t exactly your best moment.” I teased. In his defence, he had most definitely been high as a kite when he’d started pointing the gun. Not that that really made it any better.

“I wasn’t gunna shoot em. Definitely wasn’t gunna shoot you, ya far too beautiful,” Merle said.

“And so’s Andrea, right? And Lori, and Jackie, and every other woman who isn’t trying to eat us,”

“I dunno, some of those walkers ain’t too bad,”

I hit him on the shoulder.

“Can’t I make a joke? Or are ya gunna get jealous, hmm?”

I stopped talking to him after that, focusing instead on trying to make any headway with the pipe he was handcuffed to. After an hour or so, I had only made a tiny dent in the metal. Merle was getting increasingly annoying, and the sun was starting to slowly set in the sky. If we wanted to leave today I’d have to hurry; travelling the city in the dark was a death sentence. At least the walkers at the rooftop door seemed to have given up, or gotten distracted by some other unfortunate souls. They had stopped pounding on the door some time ago.

The saw blade bent slightly, but I persisted, determined to succeed, speeding up. Under the strain of my sawing, the blade bent sideways, and suddenly snapped under the pressure, coming clattering to the floor.

“The fuck did you do?” Merle demanded.

“The blade wasn’t strong enough. It couldn’t get through the pipe. I’m sorry.” I felt suddenly numb. I couldn’t look at him. I’d failed. I’d failed him. He was stuck here, to starve or to be eaten by walkers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna fucking die up here, god fucking damnit. Look at me, the fuck did you do?” He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand, gripping me hard, shaking me, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” It was one of the first serious, genuine things I’d said to Merle, and it was a death sentence. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t have the energy to hide them.

“No. Fuck that, we’re ain’t done yet. You got a knife, right?” He was still staring into my face, but desperate anger had shifted to urgency.

“Yes, but it won’t cut through metal,” I said.

His grim expression told me that he had already figured that out.

“You can’t be serious. You want me to- I can’t,” There had to be another way.

“You got no choice. It’s my hand or my life.”

It took me a few seconds to process this. The only way out would be to cut off his hand. And I would have to be the one to do it.

“Fine. But I’ll do it first thing in the morning. We don’t have time to get out of the city before it gets dark, and I don’t want you bleeding out overnight.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared about me,” His shit eating grin was back. Only Merle could look this smug after discovering his hand was about to be cut off.

“Good job you know better then,” I smiled and sat next to him, looking out over the darkening city. At least we were stuck somewhere with an impressive view. The setting sun sent orange streaking through the sky, bathing buildings in a warm glow. I glanced to my side. Merle appeared to also be taking in the sunset in a rare moment of silence.

*

“I’d do the same for you ya know,” Merle said, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“No you wouldn’t.” I replied. It wasn’t something that upset me, it was just a fact - if the roles were reversed, I had doubts that Merle would have stayed on this rooftop even for Daryl.

“Course I would. Yer one of the only people I can stand in that group, not to mention ya got a mighty fine ass,” He grinned over at me. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, course I do. I could stare at it all day,”

I hit his shoulder with mine.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I ain’t good with the mushy stuff, don’t push it,” He was still smiling, eyes looking into mine for once instead of straying to glance down my shirt.

“Sounds like you care about me, Merle. More than you usually let on at least,” I was teasing him but this moment meant a lot; in short, Merle was shit at showing anyone affection. For him, this was like a declaration of love.

“Yer not gonna make me say it again so drop it,” he huffed.

“I’m just kidding around. And I didn’t just stay here because you’re a good hunter,” I confessed, staring pointedly into the distance to avoid his eyes.

“Course ya didn’t, ain’t no way you’d let me die without getting a piece of this,” It seemed to be his way of lightening the mood, diverting the seriousness of the conversation.

“We should get some sleep, busy day tomorrow.”

*

When the hot sun awoke me the next morning, I found myself nestled into Merle’s side, head on his shoulder, his free arm wrapped around me. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his broad body against mine, before pulling away to wake him up. The sooner we were gone, the better.

“Mornin’ “ he grinned lazily.

“You ready?” I asked, and his expression dropped to one of determined focus.

“As I’ll ever be,”

I retrieved my knife and a lighter from one of the pockets of my rucksack. It would have to do as a means of sanitising the blade as I had very little in the way of medical supplies. Shrugging off the button down I wore over a tank top, I folded it ready to use as a bandage for Merle. I could have sworn his eyes slipped down to my cleavage, far more noticeable now the shirt was off, but I wasn’t in the mood to bring it up.

“Can I have your belt?” I asked.

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” He said, the implied innuendo obvious. He unbuckled it with his free hand and tugged it loose.

I strapped it around his forearm, tight as I could make it, a makeshift tourniquet that would hopefully do something to stop the bleeding. It had to be enough.

Merle reached inside his pocket, and withdrew a small bag of white powder.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, very aware of the dangers we’d face in the city even if he survived losing his hand. Merle being off his face wouldn’t do us any favours.

“Need a little somethin’ to take the edge off,” He tried to form his usual smug grin, but his mouth wavered slightly. I nodded. Who was I to make that decision for him?

I gave him a minute or so, and when he nodded at me, I took my knife to his wrist and began to cut. There was far more blood than I had thought. And despite Merle’s best efforts to remain stoic, and the effects of the drugs, he was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I had to fight the urge to just give up and cry in a corner, but I did it for him. Even when he begged me to stop, to just make the pain stop. His yelling had begun to attract walkers, a few were banging on the rooftop door and the longer this took the more there would be. He gripped my arm as I cut, hard enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over again as I finished, his hand dropping to the floor with a sickening thunk.

Merle was breathing heavily, gasping through the pain. I pressed my shirt against the wound, tying it tightly and leaving the belt in place. There was so much blood. On my hands, my pants, the rooftop.

“Stay there. I’m going to clear the stairwell, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded.

I unlocked the door and wedged my foot under the door to prevent it opening all the way, a walker slamming forward and right onto my knife. It slumped to the floor. Another was quick to take its place. I worked my way through several before they finally stopped coming. Hopefully only a few had been close enough to hear Merle.

I hurried back toward him. The bleeding seemed to be slowing slightly, though it still showed no signs of stopping. He was losing too much blood. But I wasn’t willing to face that reality.

“You think you can stand?”

“Course I can,” he replied through gritted teeth.

I grabbed his good arm and pulled him forward, helping him stand, putting the arm around my shoulders so I could take some of his body weight. He was heavy, but any help I could give him I would.

We walked to the door and I lead him down the stairwell; it wasn’t wide enough for the two of us side by side, but he leaned on my back and I did my best to steady him on the way down. He stumbled a couple of times, no doubt the blood-loss making him dizzy, but we moved as slowly as I dared, me supporting him when he needed it. At the bottom, another walker lunged towards us. It took me a moment to grab my knife and stick it between its eyes, and I kept the blade in my hand after that. One free hand would have to do to help Merle. It was strange, having to protect him like this. Normally I was certain he’d object to me coddling him like this, but he had no choice but to rely on me for once. We made it to a fire exit around the back of the building in a room with several gas stoves. Merle wasn’t looking his best, blood dripping through the makeshift bandage on his arm. He seemed to have the idea at the same time as me.

“Do it,” He nodded grimly and I grimaced, but didn’t hesitate to light the nearest stove, placing a metal tray on top on the flames to heat through enough to cauterise the stump of his wrist.

“We’re gonna make it back, you know. “

“I know,” He said, but it was easy to see the uncertainty in his eyes.

The metal tray seemed hot enough, and I could tell he was gathering the will to do it, slowly, reluctantly unwrapping the open wound. I wasn’t entirely sure Merle could bring himself to. Gently, I took his arm in my hands, unwrapping it myself. Instead of watching the shirt unravel, he stared down into my face. Despite the circumstances, he still made my cheeks hot with the intensity of his gaze which I somehow managed to meet. I reached up, hooking an arm around his neck and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. He waited for me to move closer first, and when I leaned my face towards his, he wasted no time in bridging the gap between us with a searing kiss. He was perfectly distracted. It was a shame to waste this moment but I did what had to be done, and drove his wrist down onto the hot metal on the stove.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” He exclaimed, yanking his arm away from the stove, and I winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but the bleeding’s stopped, right?”

He glared at me through the pain. “You serious?”

“I said I’m sorry, and I did just stop you from bleeding to death,” I smiled tentatively, and he shook his head, still cursing.

“So ya kiss like that fer a distraction? I’d love ta know what the real thing feels like,”

Kissing him had been stupid. But I was in the mood to be stupid, and I couldn’t resist kissing him again. He somehow mustered up that stupid, endearing grin as I pulled him towards me, lips meeting as his good arm found my waist. I could lose myself in the feeling of kissing Merle, all teeth and tongues colliding with no need to be gentle. His hand scooped me in closer until I was pressed up against him, before drifting to my ass with a squeeze. I hummed in pleasure, forgetting to breathe as he kissed me harder. When we finally broke apart all I wanted was to lean back in and kiss him again and again, to stay like this, pressed as close against him as I could be, not thinking about anything else.

“Knew ya wanted a piece of this,” Merle smirked. God he was insufferable. But I was willing to suffer, so long as he kept kissing me like that.

[thefanficmonster]

Few Too Many

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, In-game violence and death, Suggestive comments

Genre: Protective fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Jealousy is a dangerous thing, especially when the jealous person is armed with a gun....in a game of Counter Strike. At least Y/N’s friend will now know not to mess around and flirt with her, especially not with Corpse around.

Requested by 🐐 Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request but here it finally is! I didn’t want to make it IRL violence to avoid triggering anyone while I also felt it’d be very ooc for Corpse to beat someone up but I still hope you enjoy the fic if you come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey everyone!“ Y/N greets her squad as they all customize their characters while I sit there, observing and unknowing of what I’m supposed to do. “I invited Corpse to play with us today, hope y’all don’t mind.”

“Of course not! Nice to finally meet you, Corpse. We’ve heard a ton about you from Y/N, thanks for making our girl the happiest she’s ever been.“ One of her friends says, the tone of his voice suggesting he’s only half-joking with the dad like comment he made.

“Nice to meet you too, man. Glad I’m the one she gave the chance of making her happy. That’s all I ever wanna do.“ Though it may sound cheesy, as guys, her friends can probably read into how genuinely I mean what I’ve said.

Dating a girl with only guy friends has it’s pros and cons. Which outweigh which is still up for debate since I’m still researching, but so far so good in my opinion. This is the first time I’m interacting with them directly so I’ve still got a long way to go in terms of getting to know them and the details of their relationship with Y/N better. Regardless, I at least know they can easily understand me and put themselves in my shoes if I ever ‘mess things up’ with Y/N and she goes to complain to them - something that will most likely never happen. I’d never dare make this girl upset. Chances are, if I do, her friends won’t get to me on time - I would deliver my own punishment just the way I think I deserve it. However, there’s also the chance of them getting super protective of her and ganging up on me over something as small as a fight. By the many things and stories Y/N’s shared with me about them, I believe they wouldn’t think twice about kicking someone’s ass for her. They’re not massive dudes - I’ve seen pictures of them - but I for one don’t ever wanna see em angry.

“Ay bro, what’d you do to score our best girl? You must know what she likes. If so please, by all means, do tell.“ One of them, not the one who was previously talking, speaks up, his words making me furrow my brows in both confusion and irritation.

I open my mouth to complain as I slowly start cracking my knuckles when Y/N and her friends beat me to it. Thing is, Y/N’s friend group consists of three guys and her and yet four voices scolded the guy that made that suggestive comment. That being said, this guy probably isn’t considered to be one of her friends, at least not one that’s a permanent part of her friend group.

“Seth, cut it out!“ The guy I was previously speaking to says sharply before softening his tone to refer to me, “Sorry about my brother, excuse his lack of brain cells, please.“

Just then, I also receive a message from someone. Checking my phone, turns out it’s Y/N who by the way is currently in the living room while I’m in the recording room. Her text reads:

Y/N ~ Ignore Seth. I told Leo to not invite him but he’s still here somehow

I send her back a quick reassuring text before answering the guy I now know is named Leo, “No worries, it’s fine.”

“See? The guy can take a joke, you’re all just freaking out over nothing!“ Seth laughs, reminding me and the others of how loud he is compared to us.

Despite acting like it’s no big deal, I can’t help but admit to myself that this behavior of Seth’s has awoken a deeply buried suspicion of mine that’s not only mine but also arises in every guy whose girlfriend hangs out with a lot of guys. It’s not that I don’t trust Y/N - she could literally blindfold me and tell me to walk through a pool of lava, promising it wouldn’t hurt and I’d do it - but we all know about that saying that every guy in a group with one girl has liked said girl at least once.

Disturbing to think these four, including Seth five, dudes could’ve possibly been my competition at some point. It’s nice that they’re all super chill about it, mostly cause some of them have girlfriends as I was told.

Nevertheless, we get over that hiccup and carry on with the small talk and preparations for the game. Since it’s my first time playing CSGO, Y/N, Leo and her other friend Clancy explain the mechanics to me in detail to avoid me getting confused mid-game and getting myself killed. When they finish, we start the round and wait for the game’s algorithm to separate us into two teams which Y/N jokingly refers to as cops and robbers. Unfortunately, the end result of that separation ends up being me getting put in the terrorists’ force with Leo and Clancy while Y/N’s with the FBI, partnered with Seth and her other friend Evan.

“Alright, team, we shall now disperse. Corpse, remember, if you see more than one of them, radio in and lay low, we’ll be with you as soon as possible.“ Leo informs me as he runs off in one direction, Clancy going in the opposite. I confirm I understand and go along my way too, heading for this ancient looking structure that looks like it could belong in an old-timey movie. 

Walking in, I realize the place is way bigger than it appeared on the outside. A quick look up confirms that there are three fucking floors above, not to mention that the ground floor is huge. Luckily, there are many crates and barrels to hide behind if I come across an FBI agent. I sure as hell hope it’s Y/N, I could maybe even try talking her into giving me a second chance at life and pretend she never saw me. Come to think of it though, I’d probably prefer getting killed by her rather than her friends - especially Seth.

Given that we’re in a Discord call, I can hear all the conversation going on. They are all quiet though, I can just periodically hear the mumbles of someone muttering to themselves as they navigate the map cautiously out of fear of running into their opponent unprepared. The silence is put to an end though when Seth speaks up, addressing Y/N.

“Yo, your boyfriend’s with the terrorists, ain’t he? That’s like the universe giving you a sign that y’all shouldn’t be together.“ The fucker laughs at his own joke while I can literally hear Y/N rolling her eyes.

“Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet, Seth?“ She asks sarcastically, almost getting a chuckle out of me but I suppress it to avoid getting caught listening in.

“Yeah, they both die at the end. Fucking boooriiinngg.“ Just then, I spot two silhouettes entering the building. Aiming my gun at them reveals their names - just the people I’m currently involuntarily eavesdropping on. Seth and Y/N don’t notice me though so I quickly duck behind a crate and prepare to radio in when Seth continues verbally torturing Y/N and dancing on my last nerves, “I personally think the friends-to-lovers trope is far more interesting...“

Did this guy just- no, he’s gotta be fucking kidding me

I’m left with my jaw hanging in disbelief at this guy’s audacity. I have no doubt Y/N’s about to put him in his place herself but I just gotta have my own chat with this guy. And by ‘chat’ I mean I mindlessly rush out from behind the crate towards where I saw him and Y/N and open fire on him.  I hear his startled and upset screams with Y/N’s laughter in the background. She doesn’t try to stop me as a teammate of his should and would, instead she just observes the scene unfold, laughing her ass off.

“Yo man what the fuck was that for?!“ I hear Seth’s yell but only faintly since the sound of gunshots is still echoing through my headphones. Yeah, I’m not done shooting this fucker.

“Corpse...Corpse, buddy...“ Y/N manages through fits of laughter she cannot tame, “That’s a few too many bullets, he’s already dead.”

“And that was a few too many comments for him to be let off the hook.” I answer as sharply as I can with the new-formed smile on my face. What can I say, her happiness is contagious.

“Well, you got your first kill in CSGO. Good job, babe! I’m super proud of you!” She cheers for me, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Nah that was my first overkill.“ I quickly add, with a more threatening tone: “And it won’t be my last.”

“Let’s just hope there aren’t few too many of these overkills either.“ She snickers.

“That doesn’t depend on me, babe.“ I say smugly, suggestively enough for Seth to pick up the dropped hint. Mother fucker’s officially been put in his place and I couldn’t possibly be happier - with the added bonus of getting a ton of laughter out of Y/N who also decides to walk away, leaving me unharmed but promising to shoot to kill next time she sees me.

I’m ok with that. She could kill me anyday.

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[ackerdaddy]

hi! can i request for a oneshot for levi where he and his s/o are in the middle of a reallyyyy nasty fight where levi himself couldn’t help but lose his cool and raises his voice due to sheer frustration. but in the end they were able to find a common ground and made up. the setting will take place in the aot world but if u wanna turn it into modern au that’s fine too. :D i want to see levi lose his composure then return back to his stoic but loving self. also, i just want my angst and fluff 😂😂😂 tysm! 💓

Heya! I definitely made Levi into a soft boi for this one. It turned out to be longer than expected, so hope you enjoy <3

Parings: Levi x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Words: ~1500

Summary: You recklessly put yourself in danger trying to save a friend while out on an expedition and Levi is not so happy about it

You knew you were in shit the moment Levi had glared at you from his horse across the formation as the squads retreated. The sheer intensity of his gaze had you suppressing a shiver that was threatening to run down your spine. You were excited when you were given the news that your squad was running a joint routine with the Levi squad out past wall Rose. Levi, however, had his own opinions on the matter; he hated that you were a part of this operation. It made him incredibly nervous to know his full attention wouldn’t be on keeping everyone else alive because your safety would constantly be lingering in the back of his mind, although he would never admit it.

He only said six words to you the day you left the walls.

“Don’t be stupid out there. Survive,” he tightened his grip on your wrist and sternly reminded you that he needed you to return home with him. While it seemed like he was scolding you, you knew in your heart that he said those words out of pure love and concern.

Everything had been going smoothly until you heard a blood-curdling scream that ripped from the mouth of your best friend. Looking to your left flank, you saw her being squeezed in the massive palm of an 8m titan. Your body reacted before your mind could protest, whipping your horse’s reins and taking off towards her and the beast. Once you were in range, you fired your ODM gear straight at neck of the titan and felt your body being pulled aggressively towards your target.

“Y/n, NO!” your friend screamed as you flew in. You were coming in much too quickly and at a very bad angle, desperate to save your companion.

The warning that fell from her lips was carried by the wind and alerted Levi to your location. Watching in horror from his position some leagues away, he kicked his horse into gear and galloped towards you faster than he’s ever ridden. He was forced to witness as the titan grabbed the wire of your ODM with its other hand, thrashing your body down and into the ground. You were unable to move from the sheer force of the impact, and the titan seized the opportunity. It picked you up, and all you could do was scream and slam your fists into its hand, although you knew your efforts were futile.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. You looked at your best friend in the titan’s other hand and the two of you exchanged a look of both complete terror and complete love. The wide-eyed expressions on both your faces told each other that you knew your fate had been sealed. At least you were dying together. You scrunched your eyes closed and awaited what you presumed to be your gory demise.

Your eyes sprang open in shock when you felt yourself falling rapidly through the air. The fall left you no time to gather yourself and your back hit the hard ground with a sickening thud. Your tailbone was definitely broken. Wheezing and bloody, you frantically looked around to get your bearings. Footsteps approached you and when you gazed up at your saviour, you were met with those steely eyes looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You groaned and cringed internally when you saw Levi approaching you as you dismounted your horse.

“My office. Now.” He was using his Captain’s voice, and you knew you had to obey.

“Hey, you wanted to see me?” You said, feigning innocence. You busied yourself with shutting the door behind you and fiddled with the lock for way longer than necessary to avoid looking him in the eyes.

“Y/n, look at me.”

You turned around to face your partner and gave him a sheepish smile, hoping it would melt the ice in his voice, even just a tiny bit.

“What did I tell you?” He asked firmly.

“Not to be stupid,” you replied, voice filled with shame.

“Exactly. And what did you do?” He pressed.

“I was just-”

“The complete opposite of what I asked,” his voice was laced with frustration. He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose before bringing his piercing gaze back to meet yours. Normally, your boyfriend was so calm and collected, but today there was a something else burning behind those guarded eyes. Nevertheless, it was becoming increasingly bothersome that he was talking to you in such a condescending tone.

“That doesn’t mean you need to treat me like a child,” you snapped, eyes ablaze.

“If you’re going to act like a child then I am going to treat you like a child. It is that simple,” he fired back.

“So you’re saying that I should have just left my best friend to die? Is that it?” you challenged.

“Oh for god sakes y/n!” Levi stated pacing towards you, causing you to back up until your back was flush with the door. Still, he continued, “Do you think I haven’t watched countless people that I care about die? You can’t be throwing yourself directly into the path of a titan without even thinking for a single second about the repercussions!” He shouted, his demeanor becoming increasingly heated. “If I hadn’t gotten there, you would have both been killed. How noble of you to give your life for the cause!” the venom in his voice dripping with sarcasm. His palm whizzed past your head and slammed into the door. The loud clap of his palm against the wood rang in your ear.

Your mouth slightly agape, you turned your head slowly turned to observe the hand that had smacked the door, then back to Levi, whose breathing was ragged and veins were popping out of his forearms. Unable to wipe the incredulous look from your face or form a coherent sentence, you continued to stare at him with wide eyes. You had never seen him this worked up before. His raven bangs fell haphazardly into those normally reserved, cool eyes. Today, there was a fire alight in them. They shimmered with an intensity that felt like it went right through your being, to the core. You felt naked under the vigor of his gaze.

“I’m . . . I’m so sorry Levi,” you choked out, blinking rapidly and trying hard to swallow the lump in your throat. You didn’t usually show this kind of weakness with anyone, and were almost embarrassed that your partner – humanity’s strongest – was seeing you in this state.

The instant that he saw the fear and sadness in your eyes that was threatening to spill over, the fiery light that was in his eyes was completely extinguished. This time, it was replaced by a soft look of compassion and love.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he tugged at your wrist, pulling you swiftly into his chest and resting his chin on top of your head. “I’m not mad, I was just worried. Y/n . . . I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice low and soft; almost a whisper. The low rumblings of his voice in his chest reverberated through your own, comforting and grounding you as you relaxed into his embrace and sighed through your nose contently.

“So . . . what you’re saying is I’m special to you?” you asked playfully, the crackling tension that had previously been in the air all but evaporated.

“Oh you’re special alright,” he joked, chuckling as he moved one calloused hand to caress the side of your head, guiding your face to his, your eyes locking. You heart melted when the corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly into that crooked smile you loved so much. “You’re such a brat,” he teased, but the tone of his voice was interwoven with nothing but adoration.

“Yeah but I’m your brat,” you retorted, stretching up on your tippy toes to plant a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Must be my lucky day,” his voice was soft and warm as he leaned in to capture you lips in his.  

[literaila]

hopeless reality

BAU team x reader 

request: Hii! I’m in serious need of some angsty sshhiiiit and I love your writing... Could you maybe write some platonic BAU x reader where the reader is the youngest, idk she can be like 20 or something, and a case goes TERRIBLY wrong and she’s injure dying and everyone’s like but she can’t die, she was supposed to outlive us all!

warnings: kinda sad, panicked everyone, hotch basically abandons all of them, some spoliers past season 6, no concrete ending.. 

a/n: I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS ITS SO DIFFERENT 

*

“I can do it.” 

Those words weren't surprising for any of them. 

As the youngest, Y/N was always looking for new ways to prove herself to all of them. She was used to the staring, and the scoffs people made when they saw her next to the all mighty prestigious BAU team. She was used to people looking at her and wondering if they had picked someone up off of the highway, or if she was a murder just riding along with them. She was used to being undermined and underestimated by everyone. 

Age was a tricky little thing people didn't seem to look past. 

But it wasn't as if she put up with it. When the local police officers were making side remarks about her right behind her back, she didn't keep her mouth shut. Didn't stand there and listen to them expect nothing of her. 

And she enjoyed the looks on their faces when they realized she was listening. She liked the stammered apologies that came out of their mouths while she stared them down. 

She wasn't one to bite her tongue. 

And she had something to prove, to herself and to all of her teammates. She had to show them that she was valuable, that her age didn't affect how much she could do, how much she was willing to do. 

And so, it was expected when she offered herself up like a doll for sale. 

It's what happens during every case. 

This time though, all of her teammates nodded along with her. It was a man closer to her age, only a couple of years older, and she was the most likely to lure him. The most likely to trap him in the prison of being caught. 

“Okay, Y/L/N will go in, Morgan and Rossi follow her in as backup, blend into the crowd.” Everyone awaited Hotch's formal orders, ready to finally be done with the case that had taken them days to solve. “You three need to remember, he's going to be on the lookout for us, he's definitely seen the news by now.” 

The three of them nodded, Y/N already antsy on her feet as she waited to leave. Definitely the most willing to catch him out of anybody else in the room. 

She nodded at the rest of the team, smiling at Garcia’s “See you soon Neptune! Be careful.” from the phone on the table. She grabbed her bag, filled with clothes that would help her fit into the bar scene, and her vest. Just in case. 

She started to walk out the door, trailing after Morgan and Rossi as they got ready to leave when Hotch called her back into the room. 

Everyone else had already left, and her nerves were telling her to continue walking and get to her job, but out of anyone else there, she was used to being pulled back behind. 

“Yeah, Hotch?” 

“You shouldn't hesitate to call in Derek or Dave, this unsub isn't going to stick around if he suspects something. You know that?” 

It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes at his protective instincts, instead going for a smile, hoping to ease whatever paternal nerves he could be feeling. 

“Course, Hotchner. I know what to do.” 

She nodded at him, choosing not to stay any longer than she had to, saving herself from his double-checking, and reassuring. 

She waved with one of her hands walking out the door. 

*

Wearing a dress and both a bulletproof vest was extremely uncomfortable. Especially when it was supposed to be discreet. 

Y/N sat in the middle of the bar, sipping on a fake drink, throwing smiles to anybody who seemed to look at her, waiting for the one person she needed looks from to approach her. 

She knew what to expect, an alpha male, expecting her to fall under his wing and go with him home- which of course would be when he would torture and murder her like he did all those other girls -and she wasn't going to let herself slip up when he was so close. 

A couple of guys had come up to her already, asking her if she was new around if she needed some help getting home, if she was lost in a bar like this one. All things that she tried not to show disgust at, smiling and telling them she was expecting someone. 

Though, when she saw him, she knew he would be different. 

He was carrying himself differently. Smirking at everyone else, unlike a normal too confident male would. It was more threatening, like he expected everyone in the room to do whatever he said, whenever he said. 

An alpha male. 

Y/N could tell in almost an instant that this was her guy, and that it was time to put on a show. 

*

It was an easy catch. The bait pulled him perfectly. 

And she played the part just as expected. 

Laughing at everything he said, smiling at him whenever she got the opportunity, drinking the drink she knew he was planning to spike soon. 

It was a rehearsed part, one she was exceptional at. 

But, when he started pushing her, begging her to come home with him, promising her that he would make it worth her while, she didn't know what to do. 

With the last girls, he had waited longer, drugged them before he even dared to take them home, stayed at the bar with them so that they would be more comfortable with him. 

But it had only been twenty minutes, only a short minute since he had first looked at her. 

He was devolving too fast. 

Y/N smiled, trying not to let the sudden nerves she felt show in her eyes, trying to keep herself comfortable sitting so close to him. 

She looked over to Derek, who was sitting across the bar, pretending to drink while he listened to their conversation. He was looking back at her, giving her a look that she knew was asking if she was okay, if she knew what to do. He was worried too. 

She took a quiet deep breath in. 

“I haven't finished my drink yet,” she said, playing dumb, trying to act like she was innocent enough, trying to test him. 

“I have plenty of drinks back at my place.” 

She giggled, playing with the bracelet on her wrist, looking back over to Derek. 

“It's so early in the night…” She whispered, flaunting her confidence, playing off her “drunkenness” as best as she could while still smiling at him. 

But she could tell that he was getting impatient, and wasn't willing to wait anymore. 

“What game are you playing?” 

And she could hear his real voice. Not the man that went to strange bars to pick up women, but the man who murdered them as soon as he took them home. The man who was planning to murder her. 

She looked over to Derek once more, once too much. 

The unsub was looking with her, glaring eyes meeting Derek’s, and the reaction was written out in front of all of them. 

He had seen Derek on TV. Seen him with the FBI. 

He turned back around, his hand slipping to his pocket. 

“You’re with them huh?” He was whispering, but his voice was demanding, furious. 

And the giggle that came out Y/N wasn't fake this time, just nervous. 

“What are you talking about?” She asked, her feet tapping on the barstool, her body getting ready to run, trying to smile. 

“The FBI.” 

He spat the words in her face. The smile falling from her lips. 

The hand moving to point at her. 

What was it she wondered? 

What was pain? 

“Physical pain inspires the worst kind of helplessness.” 

*

Ambulances were surprisingly loud. 

Louder than you’d assume. 

They were threatening, and dangerous, and did nothing to help give you hope. 

Derek didn't get scared. He didn't need hope to keep him upright, he wasn't threatened by any of the ambulances that he had seen before, he didn't find them too loud. 

But he was supposed to be protecting her. 

They all knew, going into the bar, before the bar, that it was dangerous. They all knew that there was a strong possibility that she could get hurt. But she was cautious, and she was brave. So he didn't worry. He didn't think he had to worry. Even with an unsub who was known for lashing out, for making big decisions with no thought. Hotch had told Derek, all of them, that this would be harder than normal, that they needed to be more watchful, more careful. 

She’d been laughing with them in the car on the way over. Telling them that if either Derek or Rossi got in the way of her job, she’d disown them as her friends. She’d laughed and joked with them, not an ounce of fear in her eyes, no anxiety resting upon her body.

But he saw that look in her eyes. 

That strange scared look. 

It was unfamiliar, an anomaly to him. He’d never seen her eyes like that. 

She was the youngest, the most daring, the person who offered to do anything that no one else wanted to. 

She laughed when one of them said they were too tired to go out for drinks, offered to watch both Hotch and JJ kids when they were busy. She moved between them like she was mending with them, and she was everyone's best friend. 

She took too many risks, moved too fast, thought too hard. She did everything on a whim, but it was impossible to stop her. Impossible to fade her from the scene. Impossible for anything to scare her like it would any person. 

He’d never had to worry about her before. 

She’d made it clear that she could take care of herself, that she was strong, that just because she was the youngest and most inexperienced, it didn't mean she couldn't do what any one of them could. 

She was so strong. 

And he’d never seen that look in her eyes before. 

Desperation, trepidation. Two things that had never filled his body like in that moment. 

He could see the unsub moving, he could see her worried eyes, her panicked posture. He saw everyone else around them, moving normally, none of them quite as scared as she was. He saw Rossi looking over at him from the bar. 

And he saw the gun in the unsubs hands. 

He wished he had been paying attention more, watching her, checking to make sure she seemed just fine. He wished he had watched the unsub, checked to make sure he couldn't see any weapons on him. He wished that he could’ve done it all over again, asked her to step back, to let him catch the guy. 

And he wished he could’ve been fast enough. 

The unsub had pulled out the gun, had stared at her with his threatening eyes, and she moved back, tried to get away but, she wasn't fast enough, and the unsub was too quick. 

Derek had watched her stumble backward. He watched the pain light in her eyes and the panic fade out. 

She used to tease him about watching everything. 

“We aren't at work, you don't have to profile everyone in the room, Derek.” 

Then she’d pass him a drink. Tell him that it was supposed to be fun, that they all needed a little more fun in their lives. 

But now, all Derek needed was to get her eyes out of his head. 

Her eyes were so desperate and panicked and worried for everyone, for everything. Her eyes were usually so brave and so curious. 

He needed to get them out of his head, he needed this moment to be over. 

He needed to not be sitting in the back of an ambulance with her. 

It was surprisingly loud. 

And scary. 

He’d never been scared like this before. 

*

Rossi wasn't worried. 

He wasn't. Really. 

He knew her, knew how fast her body would spring back, rejuvenate itself. He knew that she was strong, that she could stand any amount of pain, that when he saw her next she would be smiling, and she’d ask him if this meant they could have a party. 

He knew she’d be fine. 

He wasn't allowed to go in the ambulance with Y/N and Derek. The paramedics assured both him and Derek that only one could go, and Rossi could see the time slipping past them. He could see the clock ticking and he knew that they had to speed things up. 

So, he’d pushed Derek into the ambulance. 

He wasn't worried, so why would he go with her? 

Besides, Derek was scared. He was shut down and focused so much on her, Rossi thought that Derek would have fought him for the place in the ambulance. 

He thought about all the people he’d seen get hurt while working this job. Thought about all the times one of them made a mistake, or someone wasn't quick enough. Most of the time, they were fine. Not many people got hurt on the job. 

There was always a couple weeks of leave, a couple weeks to get themselves back together, but they always came back. 

He hadn't seen too many people die. 

So he wasn't worried. The odds were that she would live. The odds were that she would be completely fine by the time he got to the hospital. 

Because she was strong. She was healthy, had a young body, and more energy than she needed in the first place. 

Rossi thought it might be good for her to slow down. This might be a good experience for someone like her. Someone who takes too many risks, goes out on a whim, and doesn't slow down even when she has the chance. 

This might help her become a better agent. Someone more careful. 

He wasn't worried. 

She’d be fine. 

Really. 

*

JJ got the news first. 

Back at the police department, while they were clearing up. She knew that Derek, Hotch, and Rossi all knew. She knew that the unsub had clued into who Y/N was, she knew that Derek and Rossi hadn't been enough to protect her. She knew that Y/N was on her way to the hospital, that she’d been shot in the field. 

They didn't tell her where. Or how she was doing. 

JJ had been here before. She had been in the situation of not knowing, of constant anxiety, of the questions that just bang back and forth in your head until you can get your answers. 

She knew how that felt. 

She looked over to Spencer and Emily, both of them clueless to what was going on, to their friend being brought to the hospital. 

“Have you got the unsub detained?” She whispered, leaving the room, trying to gather all of the facts before she made assumptions. 

“Yes. He's on his way to the police station now.” 

“And no one else was hurt?” 

“No.” 

JJ nodded to herself, feeling relieved at the news. 

The questions were in her head, spinning around. She knew that she wouldn't have any of them answered any time soon. Not until they could get into the hospital and see her. 

“And JJ?” 

Hotch’s voice was the same as always. Demanding. 

“Yes?” 

“I need you to tell Spencer and Emily.” 

“Hotch-” 

“I’ve got to go.” 

And then she was left. With her news. And her questions. 

And her confusion. 

Of how this could ever have happened. 

*

Hotch wasn't allowed to have a reaction. He wasn't allowed to think about it. 

He was working. He had to do his job. 

Members of his team had been shot before. 

They all knew the risk there was in going in. They all knew how disguises couldn't hide everything. And they all knew that people got hurt doing the job. 

It wasn't surprising. Wasn't anything new. 

But she had reassured him. She had told him she knew what she was doing, she knew what she was doing. 

He had believed her. 

He could hear his voice in her head, telling all of them that she would do it. Like she always did. Like every other time, she got the chance. 

She never took a step back, never looked at the situation before offering to go. 

It was reckless and stupid. 

No one ever said a thing. When she offered to be the bait, all of them accepted it, expected it. They all knew that she would be the first to jump at the chance to go out in the field. They all knew that she was smart and strong, and she knew what she was doing. 

None of them ever said no. It was so hard to say no to her. 

But she had reassured him, Hotch had double-checked this time, just to make sure she would be safe. He put two experienced agents as her back up, two people that he trusted and knew would protect her. 

“I can do it.” 

She could do it. 

She’d been shot. 

And he felt like blaming himself, felt like being angry, furious at her for offering to go, for reassuring him and lying, and he felt like being angry at himself for letting him go, for not properly preparing her. 

But he didn't have time to ponder those thoughts. 

He didn't have the time. 

He couldn't have a reaction. 

He had a job to do. 

He was working. 

He wouldn't think of it. 

*

Emily probably knew better than anyone else. 

She was probably most familiar with pain. With hurt. 

She knew how this would affect her, she knew how she would feel. She knew how it would change her even after she was healed. She knew how the scar would never leave her body, and that she would wince every time she saw it. 

No matter how much Emily wished she wouldn't understand, she did. 

She knew what would happen to Y/N. 

If she lived that is. If she was strong enough, if the bullet wasn't stronger than her. If she wasn't too late, if the doctors could save her. If she would stay alive. 

And she would be there this time. 

If she died. If the world was cruel enough to take her away. 

She would have to be with her friends, she wasn't allowed to run away again. She wasn't allowed to go across the world and break alone, she wasn't allowed to turn her back like she had before. Even if she wanted to. Even if running away seemed like the only thing she could do. She would stand by them, and learn what it felt like to have your friend die. 

But she wouldn't come back. 

That was probably the hardest thought. 

If Y/N died, she wouldn't have the opportunity to come back. She wouldn't have the months to heal, the job across the world, she would have the pain of knowing that her friends thought she was dead, but she also wouldn't have any pain. 

She’d be dead. Gone. Forever. 

And Emily knew what that meant. 

It almost killed her to know that. 

When she watched Spencer freeze as JJ told both of them, when she saw the worry in JJ’s eyes, she knew that the only thing she could do was be there for all of them. For her, if she could. And for them, if she had to. 

It was a scary thing to know your friend was hurt. To know that while everything else in the world stayed the same, several hearts were breaking with the knowledge of the pain their friend was in. It was crazy to think that not everyone's world changed. 

It was selfish of her to be thinking of herself, to be avoiding the memories and the thought that came with Y/N being dead. It was selfish to assume she was. It was selfish that she wasn't doing anything to help her friends, to help herself. It was terrible of her not to hope, not allow herself to feel some relief. 

But she had to protect herself. 

Expect the worse, welcome the best. 

Emily was scared. She was scared for Y/N, scared to be there this time, scared to have to hold everyone together like she couldn't before. Scared for the worse to be the reality. For her friend to really be gone. 

She could hear her laugh in her head. She knew that it wouldn't leave. It wouldn't go away until Emily could hear it again. 

Pain. 

She was so familiar with. She was so used to. 

Pain. 

Emily probably knew that better than anyone else. 

*

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

That's all Spencer knew. 

He didn't know what was going to happen, if she would live, if she would die, if she was okay, if she wasn't. He didn't know what they would do without her, what would happen if she really did die, if the youngest died before any of the oldest could. 

He didn't know how everyone would feel, how he would feel if she died. 

He didn't know what any of them would do without her laughter, without her pushing for them to have fun when work was over, without her running around the office, making everything seem bright when it was nothing but dim. 

He didn't know what would happen. What was happening? 

But he knew

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

He knew that if he could see her, if he had more information about what had happened, he could figure out the probability that she would live. He knew that if he had been there, he would know how to feel, what was going to happen. 

But they were sitting in the hospital waiting room. They couldn't see her yet. 

Derek hadn't said a word. Emily was sitting next to Spencer. JJ was walking around, checking on all of them instead of herself, being as selfless as she could while they were all stuck in a state of panic. 

Rossi was talking to the nurse again. 

There still wasn't any news. 

None of them were sure how she could’ve been hurt, with her vest, and her self defense techniques. None of them were sure how hurt she could be. 

But 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

Spencer held onto that. 

She wouldn't be one of the hundred. She wouldn't. 

He thought of the sleepovers Y/N, Garcia, and he had. Like children. He thought of how both of them spent the entire night picking on him, trying to make him laugh. He thought of how she always convinced the two of them to come over, told them that it was movie night even if it was a completely random day. 

He hated the thought of not doing that anymore. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

She was the youngest. Everyone teased her about it. They all expected her to live for a hundred years, far longer than any of them could. She was the youngest and the brightest and the bravest. She wasn't supposed to die before any of them could. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

When she had offered to be the bait, Spencer hadn't felt worried. He didn't even think of her getting hurt, only felt relieved that this case would finally be over, that they could all go home. He didn't worry at all. 

But he should have. 

Because she always did this, she always offered, and no one ever turned her down. The odds were that she should’ve gotten hurt long before this. 

Odds were that she was extremely lucky. 

Except for now. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

Spencer didn't know what would happen. He didn't know if she would live, if she would die. He didn't know what would happen. He barely knew anything at all. 

But Derek wasn't talking, Emily was silent, JJ was avoiding the topic, and Rossi had asked the nurse for an update eight times in the last thirty minutes. 

He didn't know. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

She wouldn't be one of the hundred. 

She couldn't. 

*

Before JJ had told her, Penelope knew something was off. 

No one had called her to update on if they had got him or not. Her phone had been completely silent. 

That was off. 

She called her Neptune. 

It was one of the planets that couldn't be seen from Earth. 

She’d always asked where the nickname had come from. 

Penelope had called her that because Y/N was unreachable to her. She held so much, all this brightness, and you could barely even tell from the surface. 

It was a nickname that seemed to fit her more than anything else. 

And she couldn't help but think of it as soon as she got the call. 

Neptune. Her best friend. 

She didn't understand much about profilers, but she knew that Y/N was different from all of her other friends. She didn't know if it was because she was younger, and less experienced, or if she just carried something different to her. 

But it was a smart decision to be her best friend, to depend on her. 

They’d spent nights together, laughing, creating insanity with every sentence, every hour that ticked past on the clock. They’d spent time laughing, and crying, learning everything they could about each other. 

‘Best friend’ was a loose term, one that didn't extend far enough for their relationship. 

And Penelope had known something was wrong, as soon as no one had called her. 

The first thought was that the unsub had gotten away, that he was going somewhere else and they still had to catch him. 

But she knew that wasn't true, because they hadn't called her to help. 

And then she thought that maybe he had been difficult, that maybe it was taking all of the team to help deal with him. 

But, that didn't seem quite right. 

And then she thought of all the other times something like this had happened, when she hadn't gotten a phone call, and there was nothing but silence for a couple of hours. 

And all she could think of, was the day Emily almost died. 

And then the bullet Spencer had taken to the leg. 

And then the stabbing Hotch had been through. 

For Penelope, after those thoughts, she didn't have any choice but to find out where they were. 

So, she hacked their phones. 

It wasn't completely rational, but Penelope had never proved to do things that were rational before. And she was far too protective to not do anything. 

JJ’s phone showed up at the police department they were working from. So did Emily and Spencers. Hotch was somewhere across town. Rossi was still at the bar, and Derek was at the nearby Emergency Room. 

By the time she had gotten to Y/N, she knew something was wrong. 

One of them was hurt. 

*

When she finally got the phone call, she had already pulled some of her hair out, stalked the news, tried to hack into the hospital's patient list- which she couldn't because not all of it was digital -and bitten off almost all of her nails. 

JJ had told her, just like JJ always did, informing all of them the best she could. 

And they didn't know enough. 

Penelope had no idea how her best friend was, and even though she’d asked over and over, what had happened, JJ didn't have any answers for her. 

It was a stupid situation. 

Penelope hoped she wasn't hurt. That the bullet hadn't gotten anywhere near anything important, that she would live just as Penelope had years ago. 

If she had lived, so could Y/N. 

She was young and strong and she had been wearing a vest, and there was nothing wrong with her, if they didn't know anything it was good. It was good that no one had told them anything. 

That meant she wasn't dead yet. 

And that's all Penelope had to hold onto. 

She called her Neptune. Because she was unreachable. 

She would be fine. 

*

Her eyes. They looked so scared. Derek was so scared. 

She would be fine. Rossi knew. 

JJ didn't know how this could have happened. 

He wouldn't think of it. He was working. 

Emily knew better than anyone else. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

She called her Neptune. 

She was the youngest out of all of them. 

She had to be okay. 

*

my masterlist here. 

[yikesharringrove]

It’s a book Steve’s actually read.

Well, Nancy kinda mostly read it to him. Which really just makes the whole thing hurt a little bit more.

His speakers were crackling and he had turned the bass up high enough that the song was distorted, vibrating through his car.

It was embarrassing. Scream-singing to Kate Bush while sobbing into your steering wheel in the high school parking lot.

He’s just got a lot of feelings, and Nancy dumped in that alleyway, he can literally see it and Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy. I’ve come home, I’m so cold.

Which, it’s all just bullshit. Pardon the word.

Because, Catherine and Heathcliff don’t even fucking end up together. There’s something about family difference and he remembers Nancy saying socioeconomic like that word meant anything to him and Catherine winds up dead of bad brain-itis and Healthcliff is a dick so they never should’ve been together anyway.

But, whatever.

He’s feeling very much like Catherine right now. Standing on the moors with a broken heart.

Because fuck Heathcliff. And fuck Nancy.

Kate Bush is the only one he can trust anymore. 

Her and her red dress and Steve’s insides feel like that red fucking dress in a way he can’t explain and Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window-

He just about jumped out of his skin when the passenger door opened.

One too-tan hand reached out to crank the volume down on the song, and a too-pink tongue slid across too-white teeth and

“Harrington, I’m obligated to tell you that you’re acting like a pussy.”

Hargrove.

Y’know, he’s the top of Steve’s Fuck List. Right there with Nancy and Heathcliff, and everyone else who sucks shit and makes people feel bad.

“Can it, dickhead.”

To be fair, Steve was ugly crying to Kate Bush by himself in his car, but he’s allowed to be a pussy by himself in his car.

Hargrove just gave Steve a look that Steve’s pretty sure meant I’m resisting the urge to punch you in the face right now, but was undercut by that stupid fucking tongue of his lolling around like some kinda hyper-sexual golden retriever.

Meanwhile, Kate Bush was still singing and Steve was still Cathy on the moors.

“I’m fucking sad, or whatever. Let me be a pussy.”

“Oh, come on, Harrington. You really this cut up about some prissy little princess? She’s not even the best this town has and that is saying something.”

“Y’know, for a guy that’s constantly calling all the girls in town ugly, you sure do fuck a lot of ‘em.”

“At least I’m getting some. When was the last time the princess put out, eh? Or was she savin’ it for marriage? I could see her bein’ one of those types.”

He said those types like he wasn’t wearing a saint’s pendant around his neck. Like Steve didn’t see his family all sitting uncomfortably silent together in the diner after mass every single Sunday afternoon.

It was weird, seeing Billy in a nice shirt. All buttoned up properly with his hair looking all respectful. Especially since Steve was usually high off his ass and slurping down a strawberry milkshake with cheese fries like he’d die if he didn’t.

“I’m not gonna talk about my sex life with you, Hargrove.”

“Aw, why not, Harrington. Don’t wanna compare body counts? You embarrassed or something?” Billy was grinning that shitty sharp grin of his, still waggling his fucking tongue as he leaned closer to Steve. “You still a virgin, King Steve?”

The song ended. Steve rewound the tape. It started up again.

He needed Kate now more than ever.

“Of fucking course I’m not. I’m just not some gross asshole that goes around telling everyone who’ve I’ve fucked. It’s called being a decent guy.”

“It’s called being a prude. Now, c’mon. Tell me who’ve you fucked. Maybe we’re tunnel buddies.”

Steve wanted to throw up. Kate was on the moors again.

“You’re disgusting. Tunnel buddies. How gross can you even get?”

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”

“I don’t know what that means and you’re a shithead.”

Hargrove tossed his head back and laughed, showing off those teeth that looked like they could take a chunk out of Steve’s flesh if Billy got close enough to try.

You had a temper like my jealousy. Too hot, too greedy.

“Seriously, though.” Billy had stopped laughing. “What is this shit?”

“She’s Kate Bush and she speaks to my heart.”

Billy just stared at him.

Yeah, that was a pretty pussy thing to say.

“I just got fucking dumped, dude. Let me be sad about it,” Steve backpedaled.

And then Billy did something very unexpected.

Well, he did something very normal for his character, and then he did something unexpected.

He lit up a cigarette.

And then passed it to Steve.

Steve filled up his lungs with a thick drag of smoke. He held it for as long as he could.

Which was really long.

Swimmer’s lungs. And that.

He blew out the smoke. Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

“Is this fucking song based on Wuthering Heights?”

“Yeah, you dumb dumb. It’s fucking called Wuthering Heights.”

“Okay, dumb dumb, I clearly don’t even know this song.”

“Maybe you’d be less of an ass if you did. Dumb dumb.”

Billy lit a cigarette for himself, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth like he was some kind of dragon.

Billy probably fancies himself a dragon. Thinks he’s this big scary creature that just goes around breathing fire and ransacking villages for their gold.

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely on the other side from you. I pine a lot, I find the lot falls through without you.

Really, he’s probably like a dog of some kind.

Domesticated.

“You’re staring at me.”

Yeah. Steve was staring at him. Watching him smoke while Kate Bush played loudly. The speakers still sounded like shit even though Billy had turned down the song considerably.

Steve didn’t know when he had stopped crying.

Probably right when Billy had let himself into his cave of self pity, but his face was still wet.

He wiped it off, not pointing out that Billy had been staring at him too.

“Why are you here so late? Practice ended like, an hour ago.”

Billy shrugged lamely. He kinda looked like a little kid.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 

“Bored. Didn’t feel like being home.”

“So you came to sit in the break-up mobile with me. How nice.”

“Mostly I just wanted to make fun of you for listening to this garbage. I could hear it across the lot.”

And sure enough, Billy’s car was parked a good ways down from Steve, about as far away as their two cars could be from one another.

Steve doubts Billy heard Kate all this way, but what’s he gonna do, bring that up?

No. He’s rather sit in this weird silence that settled between them, feeling awkward about himself and his body and listen to Kate.

I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering, Wuthering Heights

“She’s not worht it, y’know.”

Steve had to do a double take to make sure it was still Billy sitting in his passenger seat, and not some cheap imposter wearing a Billy-suit and saying almost nice things to Steve in a not-mean voice.

“What’d you say earlier? Plenty of bitches in the sea?” Steve would’ve laughed at that comment when Billy made it if they weren’t naked together.

There’s something things you don’t do while naked with another guy, and laughing just isn’t one of them.

Plus, he had been a little too focused on figuring out why Billy’s nudity had given him that same hot feeling that nearly seeing Rob Lowe’s dick in The Outsiders movie gave him last year.

“I mean, it’s true. Don’t sweat this break-up. She seemed like an uptight bitch anyway.”

“Hey.”

Steve was still a little too sore, a little too fresh from the split to trash talk Nance like that.

“Whatever. Get high. Look at some porn. You’ll be fine.”

Ooh, let me have it. Let me grab your soul away.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence again.

Kate was back to the chorus.

The song was almost over.

“You could always go on the rebound. get her out of your mind with someone that’ll actually put out.”

Hargrove had barely even said it before he was yanking Steve forward, giving him no time to prepare as their mouthed smooshed together in something that was very very awkward, and very very sloppy.

Steve still had tears on his cheeks, and his cigarette was getting dangerously close to the filter, threatening to burn his fingers, and Kate was still singing, and Billy was kissing him, and dear God Steve’s at least a little bit gay.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 

They drifted apart from one another just in time for Steve to rewind the song again.

“So, uh, yeah,” Billy said, and his cheeks were this wonderful shade of red, and Steve couldn’t stop thinking about Kate’s red dress and that fucking kiss and he was on the moors again, but this time he and Billy were making out in the grass and oh fuck, oh fuck-

“Yeah. Good.”

“Good?” Billy raised on of those dark eyebrows at him, his cheeks still burning.

“Good. Very good.”

Billy nodded a few times, sucking on his cigarette. Steve suddenly remembered he had dropped his on the floormates and tried to stamp it out before it got singed to bad.

“Okay then. Good.” Billy opened the passenger door, stepping out and flicking away his cigarette. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning around, leaning his upper body into Steve’s car.

Steve thought they were going to kiss again.

He was ready to go for it, ready to let his eyes close and maybe let it lead to more. He was Cathy and he was ready for some action.

But Billy just grinned again.

And skipped the song.