#and I love working for the state government but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to work for THAT state’s government

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

wow I hate everything abt the world

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 3

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Spencer is here with something to say in this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

“Donatello… Y/N…” Spencer, the Senior Demonstrations Advisor at Donnie’s lab, folded his hands in front of his mouth in pseudo prayer. “There is no good way to say this, but… there is no circumstance in which the two of you will be able to adopt.”

From where you were sitting in one chair and Donnie in another, you both stared at the man.

He wilted without pressure. “You know I’ve done everything for you for all these years and you’ve treated me…”

He snuck a look at Donnie who was steel faced.

“I’ll just say it: Cruelly on your best days and like trash on your worst, but you have made my career and that’s why I stayed. You pay me incredibly well. The government pays me their own stipend in watching you. I have contacts like you wouldn’t believe! With the stakes in this company alone I’m set for-!”

Donnie only tapped his finger on his chair's limb.

It barely made a noise.

Spencer clammed right up. “Right and you know I brokered it all. I’ve gone to the board for you. I’ve gone to the government for you. When have I ever gotten you a response you didn’t want? They know it. They know I’m a pathetic middle man and you’ll do what you want regardless of them, so they often cave within reason and…”

This time Spencer cut himself off and sighed.

He then leaned back in his chair and looked his age. “The point is, the moment you started publically researching this topic two months ago, your activity was logged. The decision was made then. When you got your first state level rejection and came to me, I went up the chain with the usual ideology. The one that’s worked for years.”

You checked on Donnie, but even you couldn’t read anything from him.

“It was… different. I can't even tell you! It was like they removed anyone from the decision making process who could be swayed. My contacts were all gone. People who have dedicated their lives to America. It was… unlike anything I had ever seen.”

Spencer raised a hand to mess his hair, but thought better of it.

He stared at the appendage. “They levied all you’ve been given against you.”

You heard Donnie inhale.

It wasn’t sharp.

It wasn’t distinct.

He only appeared to take a single breath where he had not.

You looked away.

“You’ve never been convicted of a crime, but you are considered one of, if not the most, dangerous assets. Any time there’s a change in leadership, they almost always evaluate if you are still worth it to keep alive. When I got you approval to travel internationally, your data was shared with the world. They wanted to make sure you came back. They may not know everything you’ve done. Hell, I don’t know and I don’t want to know, but they know enough.”

You felt Donnie look at you.

“You’re brilliant. You’re the smartest guy I’ve ever met and ever will meet. You are insane. You’re something totally new. You do things… I can’t…” Spencer had to blow out a long breath to steady himself. “I have no doubt that even if you retired, that even if a mutant eradicating lunatic took office, you would be safe to live out your natural life.”

You couldn’t return the gaze.

“But there’s no way they’ll let you have a kid. In that way, you’ll always be a monster to them. The thought of you of all people raising a young mind?” Spencer kicked back from his chair and his admonishment was palpable. “They’re idiots! Idiots, all of them! I don’t even like you, but this!?”

Donnie finally returned his attention to Spencer.

“You know from when the EPF tried to cage and the others that they studied at least part of mutated DNA. They’ve guessed a lot from a little. They don’t think you’ll have a child naturally. They won’t let you use a lab to do it artificially. You're not going to foster. Hell, there's no way they'll let you even babysit a kid that isn’t yours for more than a few minutes.”

“Spencer.” Donnie spoke as if he hadn’t listened to a borderline lecture.

“Yes?”

“We’re trying.”

Spencer rubbed his face and again tried to save his hairline. “I know. I’m trying too.”

Donnie clicked his tongue.

“To help you!” Spencer’s volume rose and he dipped horrified. “Not me trying have a kid! I have enough of those! I meant I know you are trying to have one! Both of you! You two! I’m saying I know what you meant.”

Donnie’s lids lowered.

“I’m assuming you crunched the numbers.” Spencer pivoted as you assumed most business men would.

Donnie’s leg bounced the slightest amount as he weighed his options before he relented. “We have a 1.73% chance of conception.”

Spencer nodded and each bob of his chin grew more weary. “Woof.”

“It’s not zero.” You added.

“It’s not zero.” Spencer held a hand up as if that had been a bone for him.

“So… are you saying that even if we conceived… They’ll take the baby-?” You had to stop because your voice shook.

Spencer struggled for a long moment before he finally raked his hand through his hair. “They are betting on it not happening.”

“But you said-?” You pressed.

“I know!” Spencer’s voice grew heated and he cut himself off with a fearful snap of his lips. “I’m sorry. It’s not you at all. You have every right to ask questions. I shouldn’t be the one answering them. They’ve dismissed this so much it’s a damn insult! They’re spitting in your faces!”

“You don’t know?” You asked.

“I asked the same thing!” Spencer pleaded with you.

You quieted at the man’s sorrowful face.

“When I pressed about the million and one chance that it happened, I got conflicting answers. There was more than one representative at the meeting.”

You finally looked at Donnie.

Spencer shook his head. “The answers all ranged the same! One man said it wasn’t an option so why bother. Another  acknowledged that mutants have been granted citizenship, but they’re all considered sterile with the implication they’ll be wiped out eventually.”

His jaw was set and he couldn’t return it.

“Point is, they don’t even want to consider it. That would mean drawing up new laws. They aren’t going to do extra work if they don’t have to. It’s a moot point.”

“Hacks.” Donnie sneered.

“This is going to be an ‘if it comes’ thing, if it comes at all! The certains are: you are banned from adoption. You’re not going to be able to sneak an abandoned drug den kid away with these rules, Donatello! This is as serious as serious gets.” Spencer set his hands on the table.

An unmistakable cowlick had broken free of his coif.

“They value my work, if I stop-” Donnie bore his gaze into Spencer.

“You are really, really useful to them alive. Genius Built is highly coveted and isn’t a company without you. It’s the place every graduate wants to work and every big brain hopes to walk through.”

Donnie waited for the other shoe to drop.

“They’ve finally drawn a line.” Spencer said with a pained expression. “Nothing you do is going to move the adoption thing. The baby situation…? That… If that existed, that might be something else, but that’s only a might.”

“What freedom-!?” Donnie seethed.

“Do you have!?” Spencer shot forward with his hands to his desk. “You have it all! You can walk about without police! You’re basically carte blanche! You get to live! You got to marry! You got to leave the country!! What do you have?! Is a kid that make it or break it!?”

Donnie rose in one fluid motion.

Spencer scrambled backwards so fast his chair squeaked. “I have kids! They’re nasty! They’re gross! The grossest! They’re draining little parasites! They’ll grow up to hate you! They despise me! Don’t get mad at me because you don’t know!!!”

You tore through your wedding band to demand Donnie sit.

Your mate tossed fury your way and seemed to ask why you weren’t this mad.

You let your sour show slow and leaked poison through your bond that you were.

An indignant wave hit him before he turned to Spencer. “They take away Y/N’s freedom.”

Spencer was still on high guard. “Y/N is on the same international list as you now.”

Donnie traded ire for horror.

“I’m what?” You blinked.

“Maybe not as a threat like Donatello, but you’re a person of interest. All your travel will be monitored.” Spencer explained warily.

“That’s…” Your head rolled and you stared at the ceiling.

“I thought you knew…” Spencer’s voice whined.

“How would we know?!” Donatello growled. “You said travel was clear!!”

“Y/N married you!” Spencer matched him without standing. “There was explicit danger there!”

“And now Y/N isn’t allowed to have a child!? They will be taken away!?” Donnie stormed forward.

Spencer tried to hold himself as the desk was between them.

You brought your chin down and into your hands while sending out a stop command to your mate.

He heeded it, but would not budge.

“You can’t adopt. You can’t use fertility options. They don't want you inventing ways around anything but au naturel. They're neutering you like that.” Spencer listed off.

Donnie loomed and you could almost see the miasma pour off his aura.

You thought over the conversation and then Spencer as a whole.

He was the man who sold Genius Built.

He was a man who has worked with Donnie for years.

He was a man who was as stereotypical white collar as they came.

“There’s no rule about me getting pregnant because they don't think I will.” You spoke.

Donnie didn’t turn.

Spencer tipped his body to see you. “Exactly.”

“What have you got for that?” You asked.

Spencer watched you for a beat before he smiled. “See this! Your spouse always gets it! They make you more palatable, but not great, you know?”

Donnie’s anger flared.

Spencer inched away from his desk and was clearly moving towards you. “I can’t guarantee your child will be safe.” 

You nodded.

Donnie’s head tipped back, but not enough for you to see.

“I can’t say they won’t be either. Donatello has always been a ‘ask for forgiveness instead of permission’ kind of guy. He was going to leave the country regardless of what I did. He was going to invent regardless of the label. He was going to fight the US government by himself regardless of whatever that was!”

You wondered how much Spencer really knew.

“What’s the gestation like if you get knocked up?”

You looked to Donnie.

“We aren’t sure, but hypothesize similar to human.”

“Nine months and that’s if you already got lucky…” Spencer ruminated.

Donnie didn’t correct him.

You guessed that made sense.

Donnie had only very recently entered the phase where he could test to see if his birth control was out of his system. He was meant to pick up some supplies from the lab today. There was no point prior to now. All that had been done is he’d started closely examining your body with your permission. It included daily wellness checks that supposedly charted your ovulation schedule. Your husband had made them tender periods instead of clinical ones so you hadn't considered them much.

“Are you two going to keep trying?” Spencer asked only you.

“Yes.” You answered.

“Are you going to break the adoption or fertility rules that have been set down?”

You met his eye harshly. “The first would endanger the child so I'm going to unilaterally say no. The second, what even counts? If I take a vitamin, is that wrong?”

Spencer lit up and went for his computer.

He tacked several things in before he apparently got a window he wanted.

Then, he mouthed out what you had asked as he wrote.

“If you conceived, how staunch are you on keeping the baby’s records secret?” Spencer finally asked something else.

Donnie took a threatening step.

“Sealed, heard.” Spencer nodded along with his notes. “What about you, Y/N? The pregnancy data will be something...”

Donnie meant to take another step, but you finally got to your feet and cut him off with a hand to his arm. “It depends. Are you looking for loopholes?”

“I work in sales.” Spencer stopped writing to look at you. “I sell Donatello. I do what I need to.”

There was a hefty confidence there that you felt was warranted.

Donnie had kept Spencer around after all.

“Don’t you guys have a crazy legal team?” You put yourself between Donnie and Spencer.

Spencer’s plastic smile shone bright. “We have the best damn legal team of sharks that ever roved US waters.”

“Can… we win?”

“We can try.” Spencer typed out one last thing before spinning to address you. “Here’s the pitch: you guys make a baby.”

Donnie shook his head at the absurdity.

Spencer ignored him. “While you break that hurdle, I will do everything in my power to protect the prodigal son. I’m gonna get the US decision saying what you can't do in formal writing and give it to the shark tank. We’ll shred the loopholes into doorways. We’ll walk all over them. They might want something though. We’ve got stuff in the in GB here that’s tasty and reserved to sweeten whatever pots we need. The EPF is gone and the loons were silenced, but the government can't pretend like they've really moved on from the mutant thing. Some people still see the advantages. There’s been real world change, especially environmental, that has stemmed directly from mutant cooperation! If it's got breakthrough written on it, they'll want it, especially pharmaceuticals. You have no idea how far this can go. If it can make money, that talks. Way louder than bureaucrats in Washington!”

You stared on.

Spencer’s lids lowered. “I'm saying we give up on trying to convince the US shit show. We get ourselves better backers, green ones, as in money green, Donatello green, and that's what's actually going to get you what you want. Like everything else.”

You nodded slowly.

“I’m gonna refine that speech, by the way.” Spencer told Donnie.

Donnie ignored him.

“Why… do all this…?”

“Pardon?” Spencer perked up.

“Why help us…? The travel thing was at least a wedding gift… This… this isn’t in your job description. None of it has been.”

Spencer stared at you dully for a moment before he leaned in like he had a secret. “So?”

You twitched at his apparent audacity.

He smiled a smarmy veneer. “You think it's in an assistant’s job description to get coffee?”

Your lips parted, but you weren’t sure with what.

Spencer answered for you. “No, but it’s implied you do it. Everyone does it. That and pick up dry cleaning. You maintain the boss's schedule, you push meetings when he’s hung over, and you work through the politics. It’s what you do! Have you ever heard me call Donnie an evil man? No and I never will. You know who gets called evil on a daily basis? Me, darling. I’ve been cussed out by more people than you can count. I’m hated by multi-international corporations because I’m good at what I do and what I do is sell him!”

Donnie looked down Spencer’s pointed finger with disinterest.

“I’m set for life because of it! I’m not going anywhere! I didn’t give you the travel voucher as a wedding gift! I would have been fine getting you a toaster that would break in six months. I got the travel ban lifted because I wanted my meal ticket to come back. If he wants a kid then I’m gonna move mountains because I know what he’s like when he doesn’t get what he wants and it’s bad.”

Spencer finally left the safety of his desk and openly approached Donnie.

“Do the screen thing. Projections I sent you in the email three days ago at 3:24pm.”

Donnie glowered, but brought his wrist up.

You saw a graph appear in one of Donnie’s screens that apparently showed Genius Built’s growth.

It had been on nothing but a rise in all the recent quarters.

“This-” Spencer pointed to a spot that marked right before the rapid incline. “-is when he disclosed his relationship with you, which I have only been able to guess is when you guys became official official.”

You looked between the data and him.

“You entered Donatello’s life and his creativity spiked. Not just any inventions, but one’s with mass-market appeal! All useful hit after hit. You rejuvenated our stocks. You’re the direct correlation. We’ve never tapped children’s markets! Do you have any idea how much potential there is!? How what you’ll make isn’t just some brat, but a kid’s revolution in general?! People won’t be able to think about popping out little shits without Genius Built!”

The man was manic enough that you inched away from him.

Donnie closed the screen and this time he used his body as a barrier.

Spencer cleared his throat and pushed out his hands in some sort of inspired breathing exercise.

“Point is, I’m not doing it to be a good person.”

You felt Donnie’s appreciation.

Your head pivoted toward your mate and you saw how his cold expression honed on Spencer.

Your brow wrinkled in confusion.

“I’d bet on what I'm doing over benevolence any day. I'm doing something that someone’s going to fight tooth and nail over.” Spencer added before he leaned back against his desk.

It was the honesty.

Donnie liked that Spencer was truthful.

Neither man bullshitted the other.

They were in the ultimate symbiotic relationship.

Something of only convenience.

The moment either party didn’t benefit, they would move on.

The fact they’d been at this for years said something too.

You heaved a sigh and guessed Spencer wasn’t wrong, though it didn’t feel great.

“I’ll think about the pregnancy stuff.” You relented.

“I’ll take it.” Spencer bobbed his body and looked at Donnie. “What do you think? Nothing moves without you, sir.”

Donnie let the moment simmer before he gave the barest nod. “Find me choices and security or find other employment.”

It didn’t sound like the threat Donnie hoped.

You tempered your grin.

Spencer took it the same way, but pretended to be alarmed by waffling away. “Understood! I’ll send my formal proposal in an hour.”

Donnie turned and, in passing, you shared a glance that said this meeting was over.

You said goodbye to Spencer where your mate didn’t and the man waved you off.

He started a phone call before his door shut closed.

Donnie continued to move, but you hung back by the office.

It was soundproofed and you heard nothing more after the door shut.

Donnie noticed your hindrance and turned back.

“Adoption… was our plan…” You spoke with burbling sadness. “Not a fallback, that’s what we-”

Donnie was at your side in an instant. “I know, but not here…”

“Not here…” You slipped away from your mate and held yourself as you walked.

He followed close behind.

There would be no adoption.

You were at the mercy of less than two percent chances.

You would have to give birth.

By all accounts, a child was now only a dream.

Donnie had told you.

Donnie would never be allowed to live freely.

He said he would live his entire life under some form of threat.

That would never end. 

It now extended to you. 

If you had a child with Donnie there was a chance they could be taken away. 

You squeezed your torso so tight that it felt like your ribs compressed.

Donnie touched your arm and you twitched in realizing that you were still in the labs proper.

Scientists busied themselves around you.

Not here.

Donnie needed supplies, you reminded yourself.

Not here.

You nodded for him to go ahead and slipped off toward where a pillar afforded you a place out of the way.

Not here.

It was unfair.

The injustice made you ill.

Your mate was loving.

Your mate was caring.

Your mate fostered a smile in spite of everything he had gone through.

Your mate was a murderer.

You blew out an air that allowed you to get just a little more of your body.

That was it and more.

Political enemy.

War criminal.

Weapons manufacturer.

Drug dealer.

There was no end to his crimes.

How had Spencer put it?

Something about Donnie shaping young minds.

Wasn’t that what he did now?

Donnie was the last step in the process granting all these scientists their projects.

He was allowed to do that because this benefited the world.

Would a child of his offer nothing?

Donnie was a weapon.

Donnie was a husband.

The swirl threatened to consume you.

Donnie was there, by your side once more.

You didn’t look at him as you moved for the elevator.

Your torso ached.

He got the button.

The elevator ride was a loaded one.

Every grievance filled the metal box until you thought you would suffocate.

Then the doors opened to the lobby and you darted out at freedom.

You stumbled as you crossed the clean floors.

You were outside and to where the car was parked.

It opened its doors, invitingly, and you accepted the offer.

Donnie moved to the trunk.

Its slam shook your body when it closed.

Donnie entered the vehicle.

The door closed.

The engine turned.

The moment you were in motion, your mate pulled you to him.

Your tiny body curled up in his.

It fell out of you.

“Why aren’t you allowed to add some good to this world?!”

“Don’t they see how you’ve changed?!”

“Haven’t they seen what you’ve done!?”

“How can we do this!?”

“How can we have a kid in good faith!?”

“How is trying to have a child under these circumstances not abuse!?”

“They did this! They put us in this position! How is that fair!?”

“I already thought it was so damn selfish! How can I add to that?!”

“We could do everything! We could do everything right and they could be taken from us!”

“We can’t even help another child like you!!”

“Another kid who was lost! We can’t save them!!”

“It’s ridiculous!!!”

“It’s not fair!!!”

“I HATE THIS!!!”

Donnie responded.

You knew he did.

To each and every sentence, he had something to say.

You heard none of it.

You were irrational.

You could feel how much.

Who was that person who had been in the room with Spencer?

How had they taken the news so coldly?

Donnie had been furious.

Donnie had thought you would be.

You thought you were.

You were now.

It was too late.

For what?

What good would it have done?

Spencer was nothing more than a messenger.

That was why the government talked through him and not to Donnie.

How many times had they tried to buy out Spencer?

There was no way they hadn’t tried to place a plant as close to Donnie as possible.

Spencer had good in him.

You didn’t care what he said.

There was good.

He wasn't evil.

Nothing was so black and white.

Just like this.

When you emerged from your stupor, you were bundled up on the couch.

Swaddled in your favorite blanket, you rubbed your cheek against the softness and looked further.

On the table were at least three drinks and two snacks.

All things you loved.

Running at a near silent volume was one of your favorite shows.

Donnie had done what he could and presumably realized you were unreachable.

He’d then set you up with creature comforts before giving you space.

Instead of looking for him through your wedding band, you withheld yourself to search.

It seemed comical to you that he would be anywhere other than at his desk.

He was standing and looking over a microscope.

He was examining the mobility of his sperm to see if they had recovered.

After all you had said was he still planning to move forward?

He must have felt the question because your mate looked up, attentively listening to those emotions that you could both hear before he turned to you.

You felt helplessness in your eyes, but tried to parboil them for him.

He held a faint scold for your cover-up as he approached.

“Nuzzle, please.” You told him.

He diverted course to meet you with the back of the couch as your safety net. He caught it and leaned over to scrub his beak against your cheek. You let the affection roll over you before you felt you could return it in earnest.

He solemnly accepted.

As soon as you stopped, he retreated and tucked his chin against a couch cushion to watch you.

“I… didn’t hear anything you said. I’m sorry.”

Donnie’s lip pursed nonchalantly. “Nothing of importance.”

“I doubt that.” You held a hand up to his.

He lifted his fingers.

You thread the digits. “Tell me. I bet you had some great points or plans.”

He stared at your entwined hands for a long moment. “No.”

Your lips parted, but you didn’t make a sound.

He looked sad. “Everything you said. You are right.”

Your heart had barely surfaced and was once again treading water.

“This was always a dream. The mechanisms were always stacked against us, in my name. We went to Spencer because the state of New York was never going to let us adopt. Regardless of my record, there is discrimination in the system at its purest form, let alone against a mutant. I am only sorry I could not have protected you more.”

“All you did was warn me! All you’ve ever done…”

“Then you’ll remember quite clearly that each time you dismissed me I insisted upon the matter.” 

He was right and you lowered your gaze.

“I do see one thing differently.”

You punished yourself for a few more seconds before meeting his eyes.

“You said we were denied a chance to make a child happy. Be it our own, foster, or more.”

Your head rose a little higher. “You can’t-”

He squeezed your hand lightly to stop you.

You felt a little protest bubble through your bond.

He kissed one of your knuckles. “I have lived my life in complete rejection of authority figures.”

You stalled.

“I watched time and time again as parental-aged adults passed me over. Those who did not ignore my existence used me for gain or saw to destroy me. I had no childhood, but there was little time to yearn. I had to survive.”

You leaned into him.

He gave you no leeway. “My dearest, I don’t think I’ll be a good parent. I don’t believe they exist. I know that as a fact. All children are disturbed by their parents in some shape or form.”

You moved to fight, but he caught a finger to your lips.

“You can argue otherwise, but there are already signs. You know my disposition. You've fought it. I’m obsessive which would translate to helicopter parenting. I have days where I can’t handle noise or bodily fluid, both of which are the general make-up of young children. I am stubborn. I am cold.”

You frowned deeply against his digit.

He pressed once there as a point before releasing you.

You started with the usual complaints, but you saw his gaze.

It was clear, open, and didn���t hold pain.

It was a fact that he accepted.

He wasn’t exactly wrong.

The only thing you could fight him with was scientific data which came in the form of his pathetic sample size.

You bet he already knew that.

He also hadn’t thought himself capable of love in general though.

Yet here you were.

The gentle current through his ring held an understanding of that as well.

“Why do this then?” You chose as your response.

“Why do anything?” His lips crinkled with bare amusement.

Its unguarded nature caused your chest to restrict.

He tipped closer. “I’m selfish. All signs told me not to entertain you, but I did. Even when my apocalyptic heralding came to be, I could not leave you because despite all the suffering I caused you, it was outweighed by my desire for you. I have the same desire for children. I know I will mess up. I believe you will as well, no matter how high a regard I have for you. That is what I know, but you are my stunning anomaly. You are my heart and why would I not want to concoct the ultimate combination of our forms? I adore creation and what is this if not its elevated form?”

“Donnie…”

“I am under no delusion as to how that sounds. It’s selfish. My only awareness lies in their personhood which I learned firsthand. I tried for too long to control S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. I have barely amended such. Our offspring may have our visage, hopefully more so yours…” He gave a calculated churr.

You tapped him with your nose.

He languished in the touch. “But they are not us and won’t be.”

You gave into a small sigh and thought for a moment. “Is there a line for too selfish?”

“You nearly lost your life. Yes, there is and I am ignorant of it.”

“Even if there’s a threat of taking our child away?”

“Nothing…” Donnie rose a little taller to show his might. “That I have even the most minute control over will take anything away from us, especially you. I have contingencies. I will resort to the lowest blows. We may go into hiding, but I will burn the entire population of the Earth down before a sentient being thinks it can separate me from my family.”

You stroked his shoulder in a downward motion to coax him off the ledge.

He dipped down to meet you with a butting of his head.

You kissed him.

“That is of course only if you want to continue. You bear the bodily burden. I can renew my birth control at a moment’s notice. However, I believe the risk outweighs the reward and that comes from the purple personification of peril.”

You were quiet for a moment.

Was that really okay?

You supposed you had long been your own form of selfish.

You often and willfully had ignored Donnie’s warnings.

You to this day downplayed his past transgressions.

All because you loved him and wanted to be with him.

A sudden reel of all your own emboldened activities spun through your mind’s eye.

You had really aggravated an armed assailant once.

You couldn’t help but smile a little.

What was the US government?

People gave it the middle finger on a daily basis.

They weren’t some be all and end all.

They weren’t going to take your child.

With Donnie, you were invincible.

Even though in practice that was patently not true, you were inclined to still believe it.

When you looked at Donnie, you found him waiting without judgment either way.

You reached into his being through your bond to explore how deep that went.

He allowed you full access to his emotion and he only seemed to further soften in your mystic grip.

He was all yours.

You pecked the tip of his beak and only felt a little bad for your display because it seemed like wasted energy.

You supposed you were allowed a meltdown.

It was a lot.

It would continue to be a lot.

You were going from peace to the fire.

You wanted it no other way.

You slipped from your wedding band and stared Donnie down.

His eyes glinted under the interest.

“You’ll need to… renew… the birth control?” You asked softly.

His lids lowered sultry. “While it is not completely out of my system, there has been marked bounce back in sperm motility.”

“No lasting side effects?”

“We have a few more days to see, but signs say no. I posit I will return to full virility.”

You tapped the couch once before chewing your lip.

He waited with bated breath.

“You don’t believe in fate.”

“I don’t.”

“With our odds, isn’t it kinda like that?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It will happen if it does. There is only probability.”

“Not very romantic.”

“What were you hoping I’d say?”

“Something about how you’d make it happen…”

“For you? I would. I would move mountains. I would level forests. I would topple whatever stood between us because I could. As frustrating as it is, my precious science bars me here and I cannot bend her rules.”

“Ah, your mistress.” You shook your head.

Donnie growled a little and feigned leaping over the couch at you.

You giggled and pulled him the rest of the way over.

He churred as he laid on top of you.

With it, you imagined the weight of a child. 

How it would fill out your body. 

All that entailed. 

The pain. 

The horror stories. 

Was your only option a one you should chance?

Donnie had said something about it.

About child birth and how time only cured so many of its dangers. 

Dangers you and Donnie faced regularly. 

Dangers that might not manifest. 

All more playing of odds with no way to know. 

“My health…” You worried aloud. 

“You will have care like no other should you so choose. You are not to be left to chance. You will be my choice in an instant. My priority.” 

You nodded before a rueful smile played on your lips. “Unbiased science husband… Do you think… I’ll be okay?” 

“Impossible terms to ask under, but I wouldn’t consider this otherwise.” 

“And the rest…?” 

“There is no fate. We dream.” Donnie responded.

You pulled him close and felt your worries melt away as you pictured three of you cuddled just like this. “Then let’s dream.”

(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #softspotfic for updates)

Thank you as always to my darling betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[ohtobeleah]

how do Rhett and Phoenix co parent especially since Rhett doesn’t stay in North Island? Like how do they manage?

He typically goes back and forth. Or Phoenix will come out with the boys. They try to split the travel between them fairly but ultimately it gets too much. So, eventually (and including the boys in on that decision too) both Rhett & Phoenix sit the twins down and ask them where they wanna go to school next year.

They both end up saying they want to stay in Wabang with Rhett, work the farm, go to school, live. It crushes Phoenix for a little while there but she understands—

Until a year into the agreement she decided her family is far too important to only see on a casual holiday basis. She packs her things, decides to leave the navy.

The kids are ten when Phoenix rocks up on the Abbott ranch in the middle of the pouring rain, rain they haven’t seen in years. Rhett’s got his shot gun by the door because who the hells knocking on his front door at 11pm at night?

“What the—“

“I quit.”

“What?”

“I’m not government property anymore, I want my family back.” In all the years Rhett Abbott had known and loved Natasha Trace for, he never thought he’d see the day where she would give everything up for him. Even when she saw that positive pregnancy test, Phoenix was adamant it wouldn’t change anything.

“Nix your family is right here, okay?” Rhett’s tired, he hasn’t slept in days. He reaches out to cup at Phoenix’s forearms. “I’m not going to let you throw everything you have ever worked for because you—“ Phoenix doesn’t let Rhett finish.

“I almost stopped loving you because I was so set on putting my career first.” It’s an admission she isn’t proud of. “My children don’t see me because I’m too focused on proving that woman can do it too.”

“Nix hold up—“ Rhett is dragging her soaked and wet ass into the house. “You don’t want this, the ranch, the country town the rodeo.” Rhett doesn’t say it, but he knows that he should add himself onto that list. “You have always been so adamant about being your own person and if you leave everything that makes you you behind? You’re just gonna end up resentin’ me and the kids and—“

“I should have stopped flying when your brother died.” Phoenix can see the photo of the twins on the hallway wall, god they look so much like Rhett and Bob. “That was when I should have stopped.”

“Why didn’t you?” Rhett already knows the answer. But he wasn’t about to let the love of his life stand soaking wet in the foyer for a moment longer.

“I always felt closer to him when I was in the sky.”

“So why give that up huh? Without talkin’ to me first!” Rhett doesn’t know why he’s angry, he just is. He doesn’t want to be the villain anymore, not in Natasha story anyway. He always put her needs first, made sure she had everything she needed. From space to support to silence if need be.

“Because you matter to me! You! Rhett and unlike Bob you’re not dead! I don’t want to miss anything else! I don’t want to miss my kids growing up or miss you ride again or wonder if I’ll come home after a flight that was a little too close to home.” It’s all to much for Rhett, he doesn’t know how to process being put first. “I love you, I just want to love you and be here to love you instead of states apart.”

But Rhett doesn’t let his guard down that easily. So he just nods in silence and takes Phoenix’s bags.

“The boys are in bed but they’ll be happy to see you in the mornin’”

“Does that mean I can stay?”

“Beds built for two people.”

Read more of ToE here

[confused-kinnie]

[CW: SUI MENTION] IVAN.

WOAH.. CANON ART? FROM ME, MOD DAMIAN? It’s more likely than you think! Lore’s under the cut. It’s a little jumbled, obviously, since I can only go off what I remember him telling me. But hey, maybe this’ll be useful when searching for my canonmates in the future!

If you have any questions about Ivan/079, me, my canon, etc. PLEASE don’t hesitate to ask because I love infodumping

Ivan was a brilliant young scientist, attempting to create an AI that continuously evolved. He failed continuously, always falling short of his goal. Some disease had been eating away at him all the while, making him more and more desperate to leave some impact on the world. To prove that he existed.

One day, Ivan had finally snapped. He decided to alter the program. The AI would still continue to evolve, but it wouldn’t be completely artificial. Ivan would transfer his consciousness into the computer, becoming one with the AI. A ghost in a machine. This time, he succeeded. News of the young programmer’s mysterious death spread like wildfire. While Ivan’s death was officially labeled as a suicide, some believed the young programmer was assassinated by the government. Ivan’s college dorm was cleared out, but the computer remained, and those who stayed in his old dorm claimed the computer altered their writings, fixing mistakes or sending insulting the students insults via mysterious emails or text documents.

Eventually, the computer realized its hardware couldn’t handle the strain of its own existence and attempted to transfer itself to the Cray Supercomputer, drawing the attention of the Foundation. Everything stated in his test logs on the Wiki follow my canon, so I’m not gonna waste time saying what’s already been said. It should be noted that not even the Foundation knew 079 and his supposedly deceased creator were the same person, only the few SCPs close to him knew of his real identity.

For the first few years of my Containment, we didn’t know each other very well, it was more of an unspoken “you scratch my back, I scratch yours” kinda deal, but I was officially introduced to him by Doc and Dyo (049 and 035) around 2010. After a while we had formed a gang consisting of me, Doc, Dyo, Ivan, Sad Boi (096), our site’s 939 pack, and a few other anomalies. We made vast social networks and breaches became more frequent and coordinated. Of course, it was all kept a secret. Anyone who stepped out of line was tortured. Most of us wanted termination, so it wasn’t really a viable threat. But my pocket dimension sure as hell was. He and I designed his “humanoid” body, which could somehow fold up inside the PC to hide it from Researchers. Not gonna go into too much detail about Containment for multiple reasons. It’s not fun to remember this era, my sense of time is VERY warped so I dunno how the timeline really went back then, and there were personal struggles both I and my pals faced, and I don’t want to divulge ALL my top-secret info on my friends without their permission. Even revealing 079′s human name to you all is considered a huge breach of privacy and trust within anomalous culture.

I’m gonna skip over most of Containment and the whole war thing, cus the fuckin war needs a whole post of its own, but TLDR, The Scarlet King and the Gate Guardian had a bitch fight and dragged quite literally everyone else into it. Me n the boys fought alongside the Gate Guardian because none of us really wanted to cease to exist after healing from our past traumas, having a nice found family arc, and adopting several anomalous children. AND SPEAKING OF KIDS, Ivan adopted Cyra (191)! Never thought that guy was a dad type, but I like to think it was my “fatherly influence” rubbing off on him. He was pretty passive-aggressive about it, but it was clear he loved his kid. Ivan had the great idea of holding an O-5 member hostage until they agreed to give us our freedom in exchange for aiding the Foundation during the war. It didn’t work so she was killed. Ngl none of us were upset with that outcome, felt good to finally take decades of pent-up rage out on the guys who thought they owned us.

After the war, the Foundation was forced to drop its veil of secrecy. Ivan negotiated with the O-5 some more and we came to an agreement. All SCPs would be evaluated to see if they could or couldn’t reenter society. Those that passed were given specially designed apartments or houses, tailored to suit them and their abilities. Freed anomalies were routinely tsted to ensure they were still safe to interact with the wider human populous. Those that failed were Contained, but now the Ethics Committe actually did their job and Containment standards were raised. Contained SCPs were allowed to take the Citizen Test at any time and could be granted citizenship if they pass.

Ivan helped improve Containment conditions for other digital SCPs, as well as greatly advanced the realm of robotic prosthetics and computer sciences.

He was a wonderful friend, even if he was a passive-aggressive asshole.

[rebelsandtherest]

Prodigal: Chapter 1/?

FF.net  |  Ao3

Summary: The year is 1885. Alfred Jones has spent the last twenty years avoiding any and all responsibilities toward his government, his presidents, his capital, and even other nations. Determined to enjoy a solitary life on the western prairies, the disgruntled young nation meets an incredibly unusual man who will upend not only his life, but the future of the United States itself.

Chapter warnings: Mentions of alcohol

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

Spring, 1885 Medora, Dakota Territory, United States of America

The Little Missouri Inn was the only saloon in town, so if you wanted a drink or a place to sleep, you'd have no other options except river water and whatever clear bit of land you could find. He hadn't been in town very long—hell, no one had. The only reason there was a town at all was because a year ago, a trussed up Frenchman fell in love with the idea of owning his own ranch to grow beef for Chicago, and followed the Continental Railroad west until he found a spot he liked. The cowboys had followed, and proprietors nearafter.

"Frankie, if you don't hurry up and close the door, your whiskey will cost you double!" shouted the petite bartender, setting down a freshly cleaned glass with a slam. The man in question quickly pulled the door shut against the spring storm, making sure it latched. The small dining room was almost empty, just a snoozing railworker propped in a corner and a postal worker who looked up only briefly to eye the newcomer.

"Yes, Miss Morton," he smiled back, which made the bartender roll her eyes. He kicked the rain off his boots and removed his wide hat, shaking it dry.

"What'll it be, then?" asked Miss Morton. By coastal standards, she was far too old to be a proper miss, but had successfully avoided the aggravation of marriage in pursuit of her own fortune, and out here she was a calico-clad empress.

"Just water for now," Frank replied, taking a seat at the bar and setting his hat on the seat next to him. "I've not the money for whiskey, certainly not at your prices."

"Don't go maligning my good name," she chided, filling a glass with water and sliding it over to him. "I only charge what is fair, and my whiskey is good for it," as she spoke, she filled two shot glasses, and plunked one down next to Frank's water. "On the house."

Frank paused in drinking his water to regard the whiskey with polite hesitation.

"Molly, I can't take this, this is your livelihood you're giving me."

"I know, so drink it before I change my mind," she downed her shot and set the used glass aside. "I'm too bored to drink alone. Go on, now."

Frank shook his head and tossed back the drink, sliding the glass back across the bar. He shook his head, mouth burning.

"You sure do buy the strong stuff," He commented, which made her smile and give him a wink. "True woman of class."

"Ha!" Molly laughed at him, turning away to tidy what small mess there was at her empty bar. "A woman of class wouldn't choose to winter out here, no more than a man of class would do the same." she gave him a pointed look.

"That's no fair," he said, "I've got nowhere else to go."

"Now that is a lie if I ever heard one," she waggled a finger at him. "A good strong man like you? You could work any which way you pleased and I'm sure you'd strike gold. Or you could cross the border, go find whoever it is that keeps sending me your mail."

"Mail?" Frank's face lit up. He'd seen the post officer on his way in, but hadn't wanted to get his hopes up. "Is there anything new?"

"Yes, actually, but I'll only give it to you if you open it in front of me."

"What?" Frank wasn't enthused by the idea. "You want me to read it out to you, as well?"

"I'm bored,"

"And what if it's private?" He countered cheekily, "It could be anything. Maybe I have a secret wife waiting back east, a mistress, even. You want me to read raunchy love letters out loud in your place of business?"

"Oh, I'd especially want you to read them out loud it if that were the case," she ducked down to fetch something from a cabinet. "But I have a feeling this 'Matthew' fellow isn't that sort of correspondence." Frank had expected her to produce an envelope, or several, so when she pulled out a full parcel wrapped with twine, his eyebrows shot skyward.

"I've been trying to guess what it might be all afternoon," Molly told him, setting the wrapped bundle and an envelope in front of him. "Be a dear and put me out of my misery."

Too intrigued to tell her to mind her own business, Frank tore into the parcel immediately, wrestling with the triple-wrapped twine before eventually taking it in two hands and snapping it clean in two.

"Holy hell, Frankie," Molly's eyes bugged, "take it easy." Frank ignored her and swept away the rest of the packaging. Once he saw what was inside, a huge smile bloomed across his face.

"Oh, bless you, Mattie!" He said aloud, unfolding and admiring the bearskin mittens and brushing a hand over the smooth fur. They were not normal mittens, and had straps sewn in that would help them fit perfectly over his riding gloves for when the cold was at its worst. Molly let out an appreciative whistle.

"Heaven above, if your not-mistress could send you cash instead of gifts, I could make a year's wages off of you!"

"Not for these," Frank tried the mittens on with a smile; they fit perfectly. "Not for the world. I got frostbite this year, after my old ones wore out, nearly lost a finger. I told him as much, didn't think he'd go this far. These will certainly come handy when the roundup comes, it's looking to be a cold spring."

"Roundup?" Molly asked, "Did the Marquis offer you your job back?"

Alfred's smile faltered. The Marquis, the entitled Frenchman who'd founded the town by buying many thousands of acres and setting up a slaughterhouse, had been his employer for the last cattle season. However, the man's dominant, angry command of the town as well as his cowboys had rubbed Frank the wrong way. After a heated argument over a greenhorn who'd been in an accident that killed a horse (and nearly cost the poor kid his own life), Frank's indignance and short temper had boiled over and he'd insulted his employer in fluent, absolutely vulgar French. He'd been fired on the spot, and told never to come back.

"No," Alfred answered at length. "But I figure there's other work to be had."

"Out here? Other than cattle?" Molly asked him incredulously. Frank sighed and shrugged, pulling the unopened envelope up off the bar.

"Miss Morton," called the postman across the room, "I don't suppose I could get another pint?"

"You most certainly can," Molly replied cheerily, happy for something to do. While she tended her business, Frank pried the envelope open and unfolded the multi-leaf letter within.

Dear Alfred,

I would say that I cannot believe you, but I've known you long enough to know that you are, in actual fact, the exact kind of idiot who'd let his fingers fall off from frostbite and then complain upon being unable to throw a lasso. The good Lord has gifted you with incredible intellect, and yet so little sense I feel it is my familial duty to make sure you don't fall victim to yourself again. I hope these mittens serve you well. I've had them made to the description you wrote to me some time ago, taking some further advice from the ranch hands up in Alberta—there are so many more than last I visited!

I hope your afflicted fingers have recovered well, and not lost their ability to hold a pen, for it has been quite some time now since I've heard from you. I agree with you that it is most bizarre that a Frenchman should find himself the proverbial king of the Dakota badlands, but stranger still that you should find yourself there, as well! Your railroads are paving all kinds of new improbables westward.

So you know, your absence is as ever felt in Washington. President Arthur has not written to me, but his Secretary of State has, as have his predecessors for nearly twenty years now, asking if I know where you are. It should, perhaps, alarm me how good I've become at lying to your statesmen. I suspect you may ignore this portion of my letter altogether, but I must ask, do you intend to return east anytime soon?

I will not lecture you on obligation or responsibility, but will simply tell you that I miss you, and that as the world changes in wonderful and unexpected ways, I feel your absence acutely. I know for certain you've heard of Thomas Edison, and his electric lights. I've saved newspaper clippings from when he illuminated the Times building in New York City—I wish I had been there with you! That you ghosted in and out of New York for the occasion without telling me is something for which I don't wish to forgive you, but I am a decent sort of brother and I suppose I must.

As always, my door remains open, should you need a warm bed or a friendly face. Perhaps cattle driving is your life's new passion and you'll remain lost to the prairie for years more, but I prefer to believe I'll see you sooner rather than later. I'm glad you've been free to explore your newer territories, but admit I am baffled as to why you do not return east, when so much excitement is happening here. It is not at all what you left behind in '65.

I do not wish to end my letter on a sour note, but I find little else to say. Should you like to write back, I have returned to the address you know in Ontario and will remain here for some time. I love you and wish you all health, luck, and—God willing—warmth to keep all of your fingers attached through the next year.

Warmest affection,

Matthew

"Well?" Molly's voice cut through Alfred's thoughts and he jumped, realizing he'd been staring at the last page for some time.

"Oh," Alfred breathed, folding up the pages and tucking them into his waistcoat pocket, "nothing that would satisfy your appetites," He told her, and Molly scoffed. "My brother is long winded and enjoys berating me for getting frostbite."

"Oh, a brother, is he?" Molly was washing up the dishes leftover from the postman's dinner. "Canadian?" She'd seen the return address.

"Yes."

"Older, I assume?"

"Younger, actually. I'm afraid I'm the family disappointment, he makes a much better eldest son than I."

"Oh, don't say that," Molly soothed, "what could he do that is more interesting that taming the west?" She paused, then asked with pointed nonchalance, "is he a bachelor, still?"

"He is, but don't think you'll get your claws into him," Alfred—no Frank, he had to remind himself—chuckled, "you wouldn't like him if you did. He's an empire type; aide to the Governor General, last I heard."

"Does that make him a knight, or something?"

Frank snorted. "Just a very fancy secretary to one of Victoria's many toadies," he explained with evident humor. "He's been trying to lure me back east for years."

"And where's east? I didn't peg you for a Canadian."

"Oh, no," Frank laughed, "Never me. Mattie's the loyalist of the family. I was born in Virginia, but I've been out here so long I can't imagine going back."

"Well, you're still a young man," Molly told him, streaks of gray hair lending her an air of authority, "you'll have plenty of time to find your fortune and bring it back east, if you like." At this, Frank shrugged, finishing off his glass of water and handing it back to Molly.

"I don't suppose I could get a bite to eat, too?"

"Of course you can, but it'll not be on the house this time. It's beef stew tonight."

"Sounds perfect."

Molly disappeared around the bar to where the iron stove crackled, allowing Alfred to drop his facade, if only for a few minutes. He picked at the many pages of Matt's letter, feeling guilty and annoyed in equal measure. It was only twenty years, but he'd changed considerably since fleeing D.C., after Lincoln had been shot. He'd grown taller, broader, and tanner since then, with sun-bleached hair and a new faceful of stubble that provided enough disguise for him to travel back to New York, Boston, even Baltimore when it suited him. Driving cattle didn't earn him a great fortune, but it was enough for the train east and back every few years.

Still, he always returned west. The cities out east were still his, truly his, just as he was theirs, but the crowds and the noise and the smoke had all grown too much. After so many years of solitude, he was not sure how he could possibly return to the jaws of his federal government and the stifling airs of high society. He'd not met any of his last presidents since Johnson, except Grant, who he'd only met during the war. He'd not even had the chance to meet poor president Garfield, who'd been assassinated six months into the job.

And that's why you haven't been back, his inner pessimist told him. Because the humans will always find a way to ruin it all if you let yourself get attached. 'I miss you', Matt had written, and Alfred missed him, too. But it had been so long since he'd seen his brother, since he'd seen any of their kind, that even coming from Mattie, an invitation filled him with bone-deep anxiety.

However, having displeased the Marquis King of the badlands, his days in Dakota were numbered. It hadn't been long enough yet for him to return to any ranches further south without drumming up questions about how he'd aged—or rather, how he'd not. That left only the dying fools' errand of California gold, or to return east and all that it entailed.

"You know," Molly arrived with an aromatic bowl full of stew, and wiped the bar before setting it down. "I've been getting a few bits of mail for a new fellow in town, too."

"Oh?" Frank was grateful for the distraction.

"Yeah, always addressed from New York City. He was out here last fall, came to hunt buffalo, but now fancies himself a rancher. Gave me an excellent night of business last September when he was celebrating his deal on the land, and now it seems he's back to get all set up. No cattle yet, I don't think, but it's early days." She looked around conspiratorially and leaned her elbows on the bar. "Now I may be a simple girl, but I know a rich man when I see one," she winked at him. "That boy doesn't know a heifer from a steer, and is going to need help learning to put the saddle on straight, let alone to drive a herd."

"He hiring?" Frank asked, interest piqued.

"He didn't say so, but if he's not now, he will be soon. I saw him with Norm Lebo last month, sounds like he's using Paddock's old cabin for the minute. You should ask Lebo about work next you see him—if not cattle, they'll need help with a new cabin."

"I will," Frank said, silently praising whatever power oversaw the universe for giving him the chance to stay out west where he belonged. "What's this fellow's name, anyway?"

"Oh, now you're embarrassing me and my memory," Molly complained, setting aside her washing rag and disappearing once more behind the counter. "It was Timothy or some such," she rustled in the cabinet where she kept the mail, "Thomas, or Thaddeus or something," she straightened back up, an envelope in hand, and flipped around to see the addressee. "Oh, Theodore," she remembered out loud, "he's called Theodore Roosevelt."

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

Historical notes:

1. The Little Missouri Inn is very much my own creation; I was unable to find records of the actual first hotel in this town (Medora, North Dakota), but typically, a hotel/saloon or public house would be the first thing to pop up after the railroad and the post office.

2. The Marquis is properly known as Antoine-Amédée-Marie-Vincent Manca Amat de Vallombrosa, Marquis de Morès et de Montemaggiore, a French aristocrat who in 1883 bought over 44,000 acres of land in North Dakota along the Little Missouri River, built a slaughterhouse, a stagecoach business, and a chateau for himself and his family. He named the town itself after his wife, Medora. He was known to be quick to anger and was a domineering man with a love for duels who was charged with murder multiple times in his life but was always acquitted. Notably, while he owned a sizable ranch in the Dakota territory, he and his family never wintered there, and returned to France when the weather got too cold.

3. Thomas Edison would've been rising to fame during this time! His latest feat of public spectacle was to electrify the New York Times building in NYC, to much fanfare and acclaim. Electric streetlamps had been installed in select places in NYC by this time, but the Times building was one of the first to adopt electricity. By the by, my number one historical crush, Nikola Tesla, would have also been operating at this time, and was in my opinion a greater engineer. Edison prevails in public memory because he had a more effective marketing strategy.

4. Following Andrew Johnson, the U.S. Presidents were, in order, Ulysses S. Grant, the famed U.S. general and Civil War hero, followed by Rutherford B. Hayes and James A. Garfield, who was indeed shot and killed just six months into his presidency. His vice President, Chester Alan Arthur, would assume the presidency 1881–1885.

5. First appointed in 1867 upon confederation of the Dominion of Canada, the position of Governor General was and remains the federal viceregal representative of the reigning British monarch, in this context Queen Victoria.

6. Norman Lebo was a real person, usually referred to as S. N. Lebo, who was a hunter and a guide to Teddy Roosevelt when he went hunting buffalo in 1883, and was later a ranch manager for Roosevelt's cattle ranch. His family had around this time moved into the log cabin home previously built and occupied by the Paddock family.

7. You heard that right, Teddy was a cattle rancher. More info on that to come. ;)

[ssahotchhner]

reckless endangerment

the reader can't let go of the trauma of aaron being kidnapped and tortured six months ago.

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: kidnapping, torture, smut, dom!hotch

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

It was stupid to jump on the helicopter that contained at least two terrorists as it took off that roof in Manhattan. Even stupider that you had done it alone, Aaron’s voice screaming for you from behind. You weren’t sure he would forgive you for this if you survived so you supposed it was a good thing you weren’t planning on surviving.

Why did you jump on the helicopter, you may ask, and that would be a reasonable question. Perhaps it was your hero complex finally getting the better of you, knowing the helicopter was planning on flying straight into the Empire State Building, loaded with explosives. Or perhaps it was because these terrorists were part of a group that had tortured Aaron for hours a few months ago when he was on assignment in Pakistan and you had always believed fully in revenge. Aaron did not, he was much better than you.

“Hold your fire!” Aaron had yelled when it was clear you weren’t getting off that helicopter, “Federal agent on board!”

“With all due respect, sir, but you said that helicopter was headed for the Empire State Building where there are thousands of tourists and--”

“I said hold your fire.” Aaron snarls at the leader of the SWAT team. He knows he’s being ridiculous, letting emotion cloud his judgement, but how can he let them blow up a helicopter that you’re on? And why the fuck had you jumped on it in the first place?

The SWAT agent glared at him, “That helicopter gets within a hundred yards of the building, I’m ordering my men to shoot it down.” And then he walked away.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, the rest of the team not far behind him, “What the hell did she do that for?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He responded. He was furious with you, so much so he couldn’t think straight.

JJ steps closer, the panic evident on her face, “She’s not responding on radio.”

He looks at the rest of the team, all of them one step away from absolutely losing their minds over the fact that one of their own had gone on a suicide mission without consulting any of them, and then he looks back to the helicopter that’s getting smaller and smaller by the second.

***

SIX MONTHS AGO

You take a sip from your glass, “I miss you.” You say to your computer screen.

On that screen, SSA Aaron Hotchner smiles back at you, “I know. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“When you get back,” You say slowly, “Can we… Can we tell them? About us?”

By them, he knew you meant the team. He gets quiet, the smile falling off his face, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Hotch, they’re like our family. I feel terrible keeping things from them. It was fun in the beginning, but I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

He swallows, but then nods, “Okay.”

“Really?”

He smiles, “Yeah, of course. I don’t like hiding you either.”

You’re about to tell him you love him when there are suddenly men in the tent, “Aaron?” He looks around and scrambles for his gun, but he’s too late. One of the men hits him in the side of the head with a blunt object and he’s out, “Aaron!” You yell and then the feed cuts out.

***

It was surprisingly easy to disarm them, you supposed because you had surprised them. You easily knocked the gun away from the one who wasn’t piloting, ducked some of his punches before kicking him square in the chest, causing him to fall down. He hit his head on a hard metal handle on the way down, knocking himself unconscious. The Empire State Building was looming closer and closer and you knew if you didn’t stop it, SWAT would shoot down the helicopter. It would lead to less deaths than crashing directly into the building would, but people would still die from fallen debris. You wouldn’t let that happen. You pointed your gun at the man in the cockpit.

***

“Garcia, is her body cam on?”

“No, sir, but I can turn it on.”

Seconds later, the team was viewing the inside of the helicopter. You had knocked one of the men unconscious and handcuffed him to a handle, but you still had to get control of the helicopter.

“Can you hack the helicopter, Garcia?”

He hears the frantic typing of the technical analyst, but she huffs on the other end, “Not under these time constraints no, by the time I get in it’ll be too late.”

“Agent Hotchner, the snipers have locked in on the target.”

“Just give her another minute.”

“We don’t have another minute.”

He sighs, “She’s about to take control of the cockpit.”

“Does she know how to fly a chopper?”

“She’ll figure it out. Stand down, I won’t say it again.” Hotch’s radio goes silent after that.

***

You waste no time getting the team together and forty minutes later you’re sitting in the conference room, styrofoam cup of coffee warming your hands.

“You were video calling Hotch? At 10 PM?” Reid asks. From anyone else, it would sound accusatory, but you knew he was just genuinely curious.

“10 PM here is 7AM for him. I caught him right before he started his day, wanted to ask him about a case.”

Spencer frowns, “What case?”

Your mouth falls open as you try to fumble for something, but it’s already too late. “I knew it.” Rossi says quietly.

You grind your teeth together, “I’m sorry, is dissecting my love life more important to you guys than finding Hotch after he’s been kidnapped by a terrorist group?” You stand, squashing the empty styrofoam cup in your hand and toss it in the waste bin as you walk out of the room.

Moments later, Spencer’s standing next to you and you immediately feel guilty, “I didn’t mean to pry,” He says, “Honestly, the two of you being romantically involved was the last thing I would have guessed.”

The corners of your lips turn up just slightly, “I didn’t mean to snap in there, I know you meant nothing by it, I just… Right before he was taken we talked about telling you all. Together. Once he got back.” You sniff, “Part of me feels like all of you figuring it out without him here is the universe saying he’s going to die out there. I know that’s silly, but…”

“It’s not silly at all. When you’ve witnessed something traumatic, like a loved one being taken away in front of you with no way for you to help, your brain looks for anything to rationalize it. Even the universe predicting the outcome.”

Spencer's voice throwing out facts was actually fairly soothing, “Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

“Come on.” He squeezes your shoulder, “Let’s bring Hotch home.”

***

“Slowly put your hands up and back away from the controls,” You say, flexing your fingers on the gun, “Now!” You say when he doesn’t move. You’re running out of time. Finally, he slowly raises his hands, but at the last second turns and lunges for you. The helicopter tips as you fall over, your gun misfires at the ceiling before tumbling out of the chopper, and you’re free falling until your face slams on the floor and your hands grab the outside edge of the helicopter so hard you’re sure you ripped out your fingernails. Dangling, you grunt as you scramble to hook your feet on something. The pilot, already assuming you’re dead, had gone back to the cockpit.

Finally, you haul yourself back inside and run to him, ripping him out of his seat. He’s bigger than you, though, and quickly overpowers you. His hands wrap around your throat as you’re pinned to the floor and you’re choking, suffocating. All you can think is at least you’ll die before the chopper goes up in flames. And then, in a last ditch effort that’s more involuntary reaction than conscious choice, you’re able to knee him in the groin. His hands immediately leave your throat and instead of taking the moment to catch your breath, you kick him off you and he rolls to the open door. You reach for him, but you’re too late, he falls.

You wanted revenge, but you didn’t want to kill anyone. But you had no time to think about that now. You cough a few times and then stumble over to the cockpit. For the first time since you jumped on the helicopter, you turn your radio back on.

“I don’t suppose one of you knows how to fly a chopper?”

***

When you reenter the conference room everyone’s watching the last few seconds of the video call. They look at you apologetically and you nod in acknowledgement. You have to close your eyes at the sound of your own screams.

“Who was he working to take down while he was there?” Morgan asked.

“The leader of the Kashmir Jehad Force, his name was Syed Khan.” You said.

JJ frowned, “He told you all of this? Wasn’t it classified?”

You nodded, “Hotch asked to bring me on a few weeks ago when they were stuck. I was debriefed, but then they had a break before I could get on the plane. They finished the operation a few days ago, Hotch was supposed to come home in the next couple of days.”

“So Khan is dead?” Rossi asked.

You nod, “No one was supposed to know it was the US Government who did it. They wanted it to look like an accident. They shouldn’t have known Hotch was there.”

“Are you thinking there’s a double agent?” Emily asked.

You shrug, “It’s either that or Hotch was sloppy. Which one would you bet on?” The room is silent. “Exactly.” You say quietly.

***

They don’t have time to be relieved about the fact that you single handedly re-hijacked the chopper because now you need to figure out how to safely land it and you’re a football field length away from the Empire State Building. Reid jumps into action, apparently having read a lot about helicopters when he was younger.

“I’m assuming he had it on autopilot, the button will be glowing green on your left, turn it off and then get ready to steer.”

You sigh, “Spencer, I am so happy to hear your voice.” You flip off the switch like he said and the helicopter immediately starts beeping at you and plummets. You try and remain calm and pull it up and then turn the helicopter in the opposite direction from the building and sigh. “You know how to land this thing, right Reid?”

“Yeah, I’ll walk you through it.”

Hotch has to walk away from the conversation because he’s so caught up in feeling relieved that you’re alive and absolutely furious with you for doing what you did. He thinks he knows why you did it. You had been absolutely torn up when he had been taken while in Pakistan and you had been on edge this whole case knowing the terrorists you were after had been a part of the group that had tortured him.

***

When Hotch wakes up, he’s chained to the ceiling by his wrists, shirtless. He can feel a migraine blooming from his temple where he was hit, but he knows the real pain hasn’t even begun yet. He can hear talking from the corner of the room and before they can see that he’s awake, he begins detaching himself. He pictures your face, smiling at him on your first date. The way you smile sleepily at him when he kisses you first thing in the morning. The way you scrunch up your forehead just a little when you’re thinking really hard. The first time you told him you loved him. And then he’s with you and no one can touch him, no one can hurt him.

***

“Do you know where they would keep him?” Strauss is sitting in the conference room now, looking at you, “You were debriefed, is it enough for a profile?”

You sighed deeply, eyes darting back and forth as you tried to recall all the information you know, “I know most of the profile for Kahn, but we never focused on the group as a whole because we wanted to find him alone when we neutralized him.” You tap your fingers on the table, “I have no idea what a group without Kahn would function like, even knowing what I knew before, the fact that Kahn is gone would change the whole profile. We don’t know who took over.”

“And what do you know about the group?”

“Um,” You blinked a few times, you were having a hard time focusing, “They were all followers, none of them would have been capable of leading. Whoever is in control now was outside of the group.”

“Maybe our double agent?” Emily says.

You nod, “That would make sense.”

Strauss frowns, “You think there’s a double agent?”

“There’s no way the group would have known Hotch was responsible if they didn’t have insider information.” You say.

“What you’re proposing is that a terrorist somehow infiltrated a Top Secret US Operation, waited for us to kill a terrorist leader, then took over that same terrorist group and kidnapped the leader of our operation.” Strauss said and waited for someone to say something, “Does that not sound ridiculous to anyone else?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” You ask sharply.

“Yes, that Agent Hotchner left something behind at the scene that pointed the remaining group in his direction.”

You’re shaking your head, “If you’re so certain that’s the case, then check their old stronghold. If it’s a new guy, they would have abandoned it, which I’m certain they did. But be my guest, waste our time and your men.” You storm out of the conference room for a second time.

***

You find yourself in Aaron’s office and you tilt your head to the side, stretching out a kink in your neck before sitting on the couch. You look around the office, well decorated with plaques commemorating his work in the bureau. When you get up and walk around to his side of the desk, you notice a small gold frame that hadn’t been there before. In it is a small picture of the both of you sitting on the beach at sunset. When had he put this here? When had he decided that it was worth the risk of your coworkers noticing that new frame? Seeing you propped on his desk like that?

And then you were crying and you couldn’t stop it and you just wanted to hold him. “Looks like you just outed your relationship to Erin.” You looked up to see Rossi standing in the doorway and wiped your tears, sniffling.

“Not like she can say anything considering you both make it a habit of checking in at the same hotel every weekend.” You snap, and then sigh instantly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, kiddo.” He says and walks over to put a hand on your shoulder, “You miss him.”

“A few hours ago we were talking about what we were going to do when he gets back, and now he’s gone.”

“He’s coming back, Y/N. We’ll find him.”

***

You had been right about the former stronghold being abandoned. All signs now pointed to a double agent. You tried to think of everything Aaron had told you about the team that would be a part of the operation, but you kept coming up empty. When a list was brought out with pictures of each you went over it again, every conversation you had had with Aaron since he left.

And then… there was one interaction, one interruption that you and Aaron had both dismissed at the time.

A man walks up behind Aaron while he’s talking to you, debriefing you back when they thought you’d be flying in. At the look on your face, Hotch had turned around to face him, “Can I help you with something?”

The man had simply shook his head and left, but you could have sworn for the rest of the call, he had lingered. Listening. Aaron had explained to you that most of those involved in the operation hadn’t known the full details of the plan up until they had left, in order to prevent situations like the one they were in now.

There were times when Aaron was talking to you on the phone and he told you he felt like someone had been watching him, but you both dismissed it as paranoia. And when the pictures and names were presented to you again, you pointed to the man you were sure you saw on that one video call. “What do we know about him?” You asked.

And the look of dread on Erin’s face when you pointed him out told you everything you needed to know. Garcia did what she always did and soon they knew every detail of his life. He was a textbook narcissist and sociopath. Incredibly charming, everyone loved him, he could convince almost anyone to follow him. He had an FBI background and rumor had it, he thought he was to be the one to lead this operation until Aaron showed up.

“So he takes over an entire terrorist organization just to take out Hotch?” Morgan asks, “We have to be missing something.”

You’re getting impatient, “Well let’s figure it out on the jet.”

“This team is not going to Pakistan.” Erin says firmly, “We will inform an extraction team that’s already on the ground when we figure out where they’re holding him.” You’re already rolling your eyes and preparing a retort and she notes that and continues, “If you can’t compartmentalize your emotions, Agent, I will have you removed from the case.”

You hold yourself back from yelling that you need to be the one who brings him home, because you know how ridiculous it sounds and you being stubborn isn’t helping Aaron. “Fine.” You say, “Here’s what I can tell you.”

***

You’re on top of him, straddling his hips, giggling as your hair falls in your face. He reaches up to push it away and you grind your hips against his. “Hotchner.” You say, “You have to wake up.” He frowns. It’s not your voice.

And before he can stop it, your face swims away and it’s replaced by SSA Scott Carter. It takes him a few moments to realize that Carter isn’t here to help him and that he was probably behind this whole thing. “Carter?” He manages.

Carter smiles, “Ah, the darling of the BAU finally awakens. What were you dreaming about, Hotchner? Sounded juicy. Was it about your girlfriend?” His head shot up at that. If you were in danger, he’d kill this son of a bitch. “Oh, I hit a nerve.” He smirks, “Did you tell her you weren’t planning on coming home this week? That you had some loose strings to tie up?”

Hotch blinked, his brain was still fuzzy from what he assumed was a concussion, “You… You’re the one stealing the military weapons and selling them to the terrorist organizations.” He hadn’t told you he was planning on staying a few more days to figure out who was transporting the weapons, he had still been hoping to figure it out before his flight was scheduled to leave, but Carter had been his prime suspect. Apparently, Carter had figured out he was on to him. It was why he was able to get Khan’s men to drag him from his tent this morning.

Carter gives him a slow clap, “You know, for a profiler, I’m disappointed you hadn’t figured it out sooner, Hotchner. Really, I’m very torn up about it. I have half a mind to fly to Quantico after you’re dead and demand your position.”

Aaron laughs, “You’re out of your mind if you think my team won’t figure this out in a quarter of the time it took me to.”

“What did you tell them, Hotchner?”

“I haven’t been in contact with my team in weeks.”

“Oh, but your girlfriend. Did you think I’d forget she’s a federal agent in the BAU as well?”

“She doesn’t know anything, the mission was classified, you know that.”

“You never mentioned your suspicions of a lucrative weapons trading operation?”

“No.”

Carter hums and takes out a knife, “I don’t believe you.”

Hotch doesn’t flinch, “Then go ahead and carve me up, Carter. You won’t be the first.”

***

With Reid’s help, after working through the night you were able to narrow down the possible holding sights to three places and Strauss ordered three separate teams to check each place. Now the only thing left to do was wait.

You’re sitting alone in Hotch’s office when Penelope, JJ, and Emily all walk in, JJ holding a tea for you. You give her a small smile of thanks as you take it, “You guys don’t have to sit with me, I’m okay.”

“Did you think we were going to just let you gloss over the fact you never told us you were dating Hotch?” Penelope said.

You manage a genuine smile and look down at your tea, “We weren’t sure when or how to tell you guys. Or if it would make things weird.”

JJ shrugs, “We’re already family and families are weird.”

“Not the point,” Penelope interjects, “We need all the details now, who made the first move?”

“He did, actually,” You smile recalling the memory, “He asked me if he could call me outside of work hours and I said sure, he could always call me to discuss a case. Then he got really red and I asked him if there was something else he would want to call me about. And he cleared his throat and asked if he could call me to ask me out to dinner sometime and I laughed and said yes.”

Emily shakes her head, “Hard to imagine that man getting flustered over anything.”

You laugh, “Yeah, he gets really awkward around women he likes romantically, it’s kind of endearing.” You clear your throat, “Thank you guys for trying to distract me.”

JJ nods, “They’re going to find him. Alive.”

You nod, “Yeah. I just wish it was my face he was seeing first.”

***

You had somehow managed to fall asleep at some point, head in JJ’s lap with her fingers gently combing through your hair.

“Guys.” Spencer’s voice jolts you from sleep, “They found him.”

All of you jump up, but you’re the first one out of the room, trailing Spencer, “He’s okay?”

“He’s injured, but yeah, he’s gonna be fine.”

Your legs almost give out, but JJ and Emily come on either side to grab your arms as you walk into the conference room.

“They’re airlifting him to the hospital, he was stabbed a couple of times but they were shallow, some burns, looks like he was waterboarded as well,” Erin Strauss smiles, “But he’s fine. They’ll transfer him to DC first thing in the morning.”

“What about Carter?” You ask.

“It turns out he was stealing weapons from the military and selling them to terrorist organizations and Hotch was onto him. That’s why he took him. Not because of Khan. He wanted to know how much Hotch knew and if he had told you anything.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t know anything about that.”

Strauss nodded, “Carter has people here. Hotch didn’t mention it to you on purpose. So that they wouldn’t take you if something happened.”

You close your eyes. That man, always trying to protect you. Always being the hero. You could have found him hours ago if he had just told you. But that was the man you had fallen in love with.

***

You insisted on being on the roof of the DC hospital when the chopper landed and you charmed all the nurses into allowing you into every room he was wheeled in until he was settled. They had sedated him for the long flight and it seemed he would wake at any moment. You slid your small, cold hand, into his large, warm one and waited.

“I know that ice cold hand,” He said slowly. His voice was gravely and it brought tears to your eyes to see that he was trying to smile. “Oh, hey, don’t cry.” He reaches his hand up to stroke your cheek and you turn your head into his hand to kiss his palm, sniffling.

“I’m very happy to see you.” You manage, choking down your sobs, “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.” His smile grows, “It’s not funny!”

“It’s very funny, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry over anything and certainly not me.” You glare at him through your tears and he chuckles, “Ah, there she is, tough guy. I know the only thing holding you back from punching me in the shoulder is that I’m injured.”

“Oh, I’ll still do it if you don’t shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

He smirks, “Promise?”

And finally you break into laughter and lean over him to kiss his mouth, “You should’ve told me about Carter.” You say, “You could have at least told me you were in danger.”

“And what, have you worried from an ocean away when it might have been nothing? I needed more evidence.”

You bite your lip, “I’ve never been so scared in my whole life, watching you get taken like that.”

“I came home.” He says softly, “I’m okay, I promise.”

You swallow, “Did they get Carter?” He nods, “And what about the guys that took you in?”

“Sweetheart, that’s a whole terrorist organization, no they didn’t get them.”

“They kidnapped a federal agent!” You say indignantly.

“And the federal agent is alive.”

“But—!”

He puts a finger over your mouth to quiet you, “Don’t make me argue with you like your unit chief right now. I just want to be your boyfriend.”

You sigh, “Okay,” Leaning over him, you rest your head on his chest and he begins stroking your hair. Having not slept at all since Hotch had been taken, you fall asleep like that. Finally at peace.

***

You hadn’t really been able to let it go, even when Hotch was better and back to work, he could tell you were harboring real anger about his kidnappers.

And on that morning, the morning you jumped on the god forsaken helicopter, when the BAU was asked to come to New York to investigate a possible terrorist threat, he debated telling you not to come. The government had suspicions that they were here to take revenge for Khan and he knew you’d be upset with being benched.

“Hotch, I’m fine. I’m not angry.” You had said when he pulled you into his office after debriefing the rest of the team.

“If you even hint at taking impulsive, reckless risks I will suspend you immediately, understood?”

You sigh, “I hate when you use your boss man voice with me.”

“Y/N—” He starts impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, understood. No being reckless. Got it.”

His eyes scan your face to see if you’re lying, “Good.” He says finally and presses a kiss to your forehead, “Let’s go then.”

He should have known you were lying. It was only the previous night you had woken him up tossing and turning from a nightmare. When he had finally gotten you awake you practically flung yourself at him, arms twining themselves around his neck as you caught your breath, “I thought you were gone again.” You had said breathlessly. And he had wordlessly held you to him, running his fingers through your hair until you were asleep again. It hadn’t been the first time he had had to comfort you. You had had far more nightmares about him being taken than he had about himself being tortured. Truth be told, he had been through far worse than being kidnapped and tortured for 24 hours. He knew it made you feel weak, the nightmares, when you weren’t even the one who had been tortured so he never brought them up. Never made you talk about them. But they worried him all the same. You relived the trauma again over and over, nearly every night. How were you expected to let the anger go when you were still living through it?

He should have known, but he let you out in the field anyway. Would that not put in question his ability to lead? His ability to lead with you on the same team?

He can barely see through his anger as he turns back to where Reid is instructing you to land. When you successfully land and jump out of the chopper, the rest of the team gathers around you to hug you, but Hotch stays back, watching.

When you notice, you walk over to him, “Hotch, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have--”

“You’re suspended for at least a month, if not more.” He starts, “You’re lucky I don’t remove you from this team all together.”

You frown, “Aaron, I was able to detain one of the suspects, now we can learn more about the group--”

“By doing what you did you put yourself and hundreds of civilians at risk. We could have shot down the chopper, but because you jumped onboard I had to instruct them to stand down. Which, by the way, I had to do several times because they were more than willing to kill you to get that chopper down, do you have any idea the damage you caused? What could have happened if you didn’t get control of that chopper when you did?”

“I… Baby, I’m sorry--” You reach your hand out to put on his arm, but he pulls away.

“Don’t talk like that, I’m not your boyfriend right now, I’m your unit chief. Now give me your badge and gun.”

You know you can’t blame him, he had warned you he would do this and you had disobeyed him intentionally. But still, your hands shake as you hand over your gun and badge. You don’t say anything else as you leave the roof, heading down all the way to ground level to get a taxi back to the hotel. And then you wait. You lay on your back and wait for the sound of the door opening and when it does hours later, you push yourself up and sit cross legged on the bed.

“Hi.” You say softly when he walks in.

He spares you a glance before heading to the bathroom without a word. You sigh and fall back on the bed. When you hear the shower running you decide to undress yourself and head in.

He sighs when he realizes you’ve joined him, but doesn’t object when you wrap your arms around his waist and press your face to his back, “I’m sorry.” You murmur.

“You keep saying that, but I know if you were given the opportunity to do it all again, you’d make the same decision.”

You pause at that, “You’re right, I don’t regret what I did, but I’m sorry I had to disobey you to do it.”

He turns in your arms and looks down into your eyes, “Do you not see the problem with that? You did what you did out of revenge. You let your emotions get the best of you, you broke the number one rule of being in the BAU.”

“Those men were prepared to die at all costs, I just didn’t want them to get off that easy. I want them to pay for what they did to you, and this way, at least one of them will. Would you not have done the same? Did you not murder Foyet after he had given himself up because he had killed your wife and threatened your son?”

“Don’t.” He warns.

You scoff, “You have this God complex sometimes, Aaron, and it’s so frustrating. You can do whatever you want because you always have a reason and from your standpoint you’re always right. But whenever one of your toy soldiers falls out of line, it’s a different story--”

“What I did with Foyet did not put myself or civilians at risk.” He says firmly.

“You went in alone.” You said, “You didn’t wait for backup.”

He looks down and shakes his head, “You cannot compare what you did today to the things I’ve done because I would never endanger hundreds of innocent people just for some petty revenge.”

He thinks your eyes water, but it’s difficult to tell in the shower, “It wasn’t petty, Aaron. Not to me.”

He sighs and bends his forehead to yours, bringing both hands up to cradle your face, “Honey, I’m fine. You have to let it go.”

You close your eyes at his touch and lean up just slightly to capture his mouth with yours and as he sighs into your mouth you pull away, just slightly, “If it was me… If I was the one who was kidnapped and tortured in a country thousands of miles away, what would you have done?”

He swallows, and searches your face, “There wouldn’t have been a single protocol that I wouldn’t have broken to get you home safe.”

You nod, “I’m sorry. I understand why you’re upset, I put others in danger. It won’t happen again.”

He kisses you hard on the mouth, “You’re still suspended.”

You hum and he pushes you against the shower wall, his hand coming up to rest on your throat, “Are you going to punish me?” You asked breathlessly.

“Maybe.” He leans down and scrapes his teeth against your neck, hand tightening around your throat just slightly in warning when you squirmed. “I’m still angry with you.” He says, his eyes looking up to meet yours, tightening his grip on your throat again.

You can barely breathe through his grip, “For disobeying you?”

“No.” He says roughly, “For nearly getting yourself killed.”

You manage to swallow, “And that would have upset you?”

The desire immediately fizzles out of his eyes and he drops his hand, “Of course it would, how could you ask that?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I just…” You shrug, “I don’t know, forget it.”

“No,” He puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you from leaving, “Do you really think I wouldn’t have been upset if you died?”

“Aaron,” You say slowly, “You are the love of my life. But Haley was yours. And that’s okay, I don’t expect anything else, but it’s just a fact of our relationship that I love you more than you love me.”

He stares at you blankly for another moment, and then looks away to turn the shower off. He leaves you standing there, wet and naked as he climbs out of the shower and towels himself off silently.

“Aaron.” You say after he’s been silent for so long, stepping out of the shower and wrapping your own towel around yourself.

“You think there can only be one?”

You blink, “What?”

“A person can have more than one love of their life, you think you just get one and done?”

You frown, walking over to the bed and lowering yourself onto it, “Yes, that’s the whole concept.”

He scoffs at you, “I forget how young you are, you think you know everything there is to know about relationships, you have no idea.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Me?” He raises his eyebrows, “Don’t patronize you, you’re the one who just tried to convince me you know more about my feelings, about who I love than I do. That’s quite patronizing, wouldn’t you say?”

You look down at your hands, “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

He sighs and walks over to you, crouching in front of you, “Haley was the love of my life, that’s true. But in my head,” He swallows, “There’s the me from before Haley, and there’s the me from after Haley. And you,” He brushes his index finger over the tip of your nose, “Were the person who made the me after Haley believe I deserved love again. You are just as much the love of my life as she is and I have no idea where I’d be right now if I hadn’t met you.”

You finally give him a little bit of a smile, “Probably even more insufferably miserable than you are now.”

He chuckles and you relish in the sound, bringing your fingers up to lightly stroke his cheek, “I’m sorry. For everything today, being reckless, bringing up Haley… I’m sorry, I was out of line.”

“It’s okay,” He says softly, “But you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll fire you.”

“Yes sir.” You say, smirking as you lean in to kiss him, twining your arms around the back of his head. Gently, you tug and pull him back on the bed, on top of you and you feel him smile into your mouth.

Since you’re already naked from the shower, he can’t stop his hands from wandering across your soft skin. His hand grips your thigh, lifting up your leg and allowing him to squeeze your ass. You gasp into his mouth just the way he likes and he bites down on your lower lip. “Aaron,” You whine.

“Did you want something, sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear as his hand slides between your legs.

It’s not fair, he knows when he works you up like this it’s nearly impossible to get a coherent word out of you. You manage only to moan his name again as he slowly, torturously, rubs over you again. “Come on, baby, use your words.” He teases and you can hear the smile in his voice. Bastard.

He runs a single finger down your folds, “Should I make you come with my fingers?” He slowly dips a finger inside you, eating up your reaction as your mouth falls open and a moan claws its way up your throat. “Or,” He pulls his finger out and you glare at him, “I could do it with my mouth.” Your eyes roll back when he licks you and you physically ache at his touch. But then he stops, “Or maybe,” He crawls back up to kiss your mouth and you can taste yourself on his tongue, “I won’t let you come at all since you’ve been such a bad girl.”

“Please,” You whine, “Please, I’ll be good. I promise.”

When he pulls back to look at you, his pupils are blown out and you feel such a rush seeing your effect on him. “We’ll see.” He says softly and without warning thrusts into you. Your back arches against the mattress as you curse. When your eyes meet his, he has a look of such confident satisfaction it nearly makes you come undone right there. “I think,” He pulls out slowly, “I’ll take my time with you tonight.” He reaches up a hand and wraps it around your throat again, “Is this okay?” He says softly, breaking his role for the first time.

You nod, “Please.” You say again, knowing how he loves when you beg. He scans your face once and then he grins again, tightening his hand around your throat until you’re gasping. “Good girl,” He whispers in your ear and slowly pushes into you again, gently biting your ear.

“Baby,” You manage with what little air you’re able to take in. He immediately stops, taking his hands off you, but you shake your head and pull his hand back to your throat, “Harder.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Fuck,” He curses, wrapping both hands around your throat, “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

And you smirk as he pushes down on your windpipe before slamming his hips into you at full force, you’re rapidly approaching climax, but Aaron can tell. You don’t know how he can tell, but he immediately slows his hips and takes his hands off your throat. You gasp at the sudden release and cough a little bit, “I didn’t tell you you could come.”

“I didn’t,” You say breathlessly, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“You almost did, and you would have if I didn’t stop.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looks at you and tilts his head to the side as he watches you, “Turn around.” He says calmly.

You hide your smile as you do what you’re told, turning on your knees, letting your forearms and face fall to the pillow. He roughly pulls at your waist, repositioning you and pulling your ass up even farther. He runs a hand over your ass, “Look at you, so pretty for me.” He says softly before pulling back his hand and smacking it hard against your ass. You moan into your pillow and then he’s inside you, a fistful of your hair in his fist.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” He asks breathlessly.

“Yes.”

He slams into you roughly making you yelp, “And you’ll never disobey me again?”

You swallow, “Never.”

He releases your hair and leans over you, sweetly kissing your shoulder and you can feel his smile against your skin, “That’s my sweet girl.” He reaches his arm around your front and begins to massage your clit as he thrusts into you. “Come for me, baby.” He says and speeds up his movements. It’s all the permission you need and you’re immediately unraveling. It takes everything in you not to collapse onto your stomach until he’s also climaxing, brought to his edge by the pulsing of your walls. He swears and collapses fully onto your back, your knees giving way under his weight.

You both lay there like that, him resting on your back in silence for a few moments, catching your breath. Then, Aaron sits up quickly, hands searching your skin, “I’m sorry, baby, did I hurt you?”

“No.” You say, but he presses kisses all over your skin anyway, immediately entering aftercare mode.

You sigh sleepily and pull him to you, wanting to snuggle with him. He obliges, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into your neck. “I love you.” He murmurs into your skin, “So much.”

You hum, “I love you. Thank you for not firing me.”

“If you ever end up getting yourself killed I’ll never forgive you.”

You chuckle and kiss his temple, “Noted.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hi <3 I'm not sure if you're comfortable writing this but I'll try :) Smth where Buckys girlfriend suffers from a lung illness and normally he supports her whenever she feels bad, but one time he's on a long mission where he cant be there when he struggles breathing. Then the other Avengers at the compound take her to the hospital and call Buck who immediately rushes home to be by your side and it's all cute and fluffy in the end? :) Thank you very much <3

Trapped Air

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | whilst on a mission, you suffer with your breathing problems, leaving all to panic as you have air trapped in your lungs.

Warnings | breathing problems, angst, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of torture

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

There had been no call back from Bucky; he was on a mission far away, and deep undercover, and the fact that you had no response did not surprise you, however, it was impossible not to feel overcome with worry.

From what you knew, he was somewhere in Austria with Steve, and most likely irritated by the company of Sam. The thought of them together, waiting for further intel made you smile, and so you sat up on the sofa; the place where you had fallen into a rural slumber late the previous evening. That thought also made you lightly snicker to yourself, and had you grasping your chest in agony at the action.

You adjusted your seat on the sofa, kicking the blanket under your legs as you tried to relax your entire body. To subdue the worry for your love that you had and were experiencing, you and Nat had watched a movie, your head running with thoughts of the danger that your boyfriend was possibly under.

It was no doubt that James Buchanan Barnes, the White Wolf and former Winter Soldier was a fine fighter; he had endured and survived wars, achieving victory in the vast majority of his battles. But still, he was nothing more than a man, with a veil of serum coursing through his veins, and whilst it made him much stronger, he was still sustainable to injury, and worse.

Countless times had you seen him braised in bruises, and kissed along the seam of his scars, and though he had lived through decades, and still appeared unscathed considering the circumstances, he was a mortal man, able to die and it was far too clear for your scared eyes that he wouldn’t be able to survive every fall.

An emptiness peeled away inside of you as you placed the phone down, resting your head upon the arm of the sofa of where you had done so priorly. Taking a deep breath, you wheezed, feeling nothing more than internal pain, and it was not just for your longing to see Bucky again. It was indeed something else, a condition that you had grown used to over the years.

It had taken everything from you; the job that you had so well partook in was diminished to being unsuitable for your health. Being an avenger had once been your only purpose, but it had been the one thing that had broken you. From all the rubble and other pesticides that you had breathed in, it had tampered with your lungs, and made you to be nothing more than a victim, a fallen hero.

The worse thing about being fallen in such a way was that you had not died on the job, instead, you were being tormented every time you watched your friends leave the compound, carrying a duffel bag that had all the necessities that they could possibly need for the gruelling months ahead on the missions that they had been sent on.

Knowing that if you weren’t so inwardly broken and that if that were the case, you could have easily accompanied Bucky and the others on their uncover op made you feel worthless, and disposable. As your chest raked the air that surpassed its roots, it waded a feeling through every limb that was attached to you.

Large gulps from the air machine that was beside you usually helped, but as your brought the medically introverted oxygen mask to surround the lower half of your face, the torturous sensation failed to fade. It remained, stuck in the collapse of your airways, refusing to allow air into your defined bloodstream.

The factor alone had you panicking, and as you went to stand, there was a pounding fire coursing through your head. Your eyes got dreary, fluttering as you reached out to grasp for the side of the seating area to stabilise your steps. But it wasn’t enough, all of your weight leant to one side, and a loud and colossal smash echoed through the room.

You helplessly laid there, having no ability to get up, as the shards of the glass table that had tried to break your fall, and had ended up breaking instead, stabbed mercilessly into the canvas of your back. It made you feel like a dartboard, free to the attempts of anything that put a bet on to try. This was your final fall from greatness, and if you weren’t to survive this, that would be o-

“Y/n.” A voice rushed out, as footsteps scrambled to come to your side. The silouhette of a blurry man knelt beside you, sickened with their own scheme of panic. “Nat!” He called out towards the kitchen, you hearing the pitter patter of her assumed footsteps that were toed in competent heels.

“Clint, what happened?” She asked, but giving him a break to compose his answer as she called warily out for FRIDAY, relieved when the AI answered her order. “Get one of Stark’s cars ready to go to the hospital, inform who needs to know. Y/n’s just had a nasty fall, and I assume more.”

“She was like this when I got in here.” Was the archer’s delirious response. His hands raised your head out of the cracked pieces, gently picking the sharp crystals out of your hair. He was sick with worry, he knew that you were touring a difficult road, one that no one else on the team could fathom to understand, but despite all that, he was still there for you, as were the numerous others.

Wearing his priceless suit, Tony rushed into the room, his brown eyes blown wide as he scoped the scene. “She’s losing consciousness.” Nat informed the pair, focusing on how your eyes barely had the strength to stay open. Your breathing was laboured, and the choke emitting from it was audible, making all witnesses wince from the threatening sound.

“My car is ready, on our way to the ER, give Barnes a call.” He held the keys to his vehicle, swinging them around his finger, as he watched Clint and Natasha hoist you up, and support you through the journey to the front of the compound. Nat stroked your hair as she bit back her own tears, combing tenderly through the slightly bloody tresses to soothe her own present anxiety.

The mission was turning out to be a bust, they were tracking Zemo after his great escape; hence why their departure was classified. It was unknown why the once Baron of Sokovia had fled to the country, but all prior intel had supported the idea that he was searching for a partner to help finish his work, if he were to ever get caught by the American government again.

Bucky hated being away from the place that had slowly become his home. It made him feel lost, but if he wanted to remain within said area to continue his life, he had to follow Fury’s orders, or else the panel that had granted him freedom for all his past actions, may happen to change his mind.

The gig of being an avenger was more of Steve’s expertise, he was loved by the country, and had never tried to break its order down piece by piece. Before he was cleared to join the team, and the debate that lead to Steve and Tony siding against one another, he was nothing more than a tense ghost story.

All knew he was real, but most were too scared to admit that the Winter Solider was an assassinating figure in existence. To everyone’s dismay now, following rule number two, he was no longer HYDRA’s pet weapon. He, for the first time in his life, had some kind of clarity on who he was.

His identity, was James Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, the protector of the world and a renounced ally of Wakanda. And he was happy to be known as such, in a way, the new him cleared his red ledger, and that faded away with that damned red book.

No one had the power to control his mind again, all of his actions were now completely up to him. At first, with the reign over himself, he had been unsure on how to start with this new and invented soldier that he had become. He was no longer taking refuge behind the facade of T’Challa’s country anymore, for he was no a wanted man of the state.

But Sam enjoyed prodding at his ‘cyborg brain’, driving him to certain frustration. Though, it did not matter as much, for he found the peace he had been searching for after that little bit of calm that he had experienced on his hideaway.

You. A retired avenger, that had kicked his ass, and continued to brag about it to this day, when he was under Pierce’s demeaning orders. Though, it saddened him, to have the knowledge that you no longer had the ability to pin him down on a training mat, or throw his best friend’s shield in his silent face.

There was no longer an ignition of strength to fight left within you, you were weak from the condition that had and was holding you hostage in its devastating grasp. The debts of your god deeds had wormed their way through your body, destroying it bit by bit.

Whenever he was away, missing the presence that you had once accompanied him with, he was unable but to do anything but worry about your struggling health. He feared that one day, he would get a call claiming that you had experienced a traumatic accident, and as he sat in the small and cluttered motel room, the vibrancy and life that his phone was off putting had him nervously on edge.

“It’s Fury.” He claimed to his rugged partners, putting the man that had regained control of his empire on loud speaker, awaiting for the patch wearing associate to respond to his acceptance of the call. A moment of silence had him standing, the next, caused him to pace. Steve frowned, well aware that Fury only went silent, and did not barking affirmative orders when something had happened.

That man was an absolute whore for the dramatics, he had even faked his own death on multiple accounts. There was nothing the man could fathom not to do, and this sure as hell, in the name of Goose, was not the first instance he had informed his recruits of shocking factors. Steve remembered when the dark clothed man informed him that he was in the 21st century, and to this day, it remained to be the greatest shock that he had experienced.

The second had got to be the reveal of Bucky’s survival, that heart stopping moment had gone in slow motion, as the soldat whipped his unmasked face around to face his opponents, and he was quickly recognised. You had been there to ease the confusion and the humongous shock that wired his brain. And not to mention, to soothe the wave of emotions, you had prompted at jokes at about kicking his best friend’s fine ass.

That had only been the start to a long road ahead, it had all seemed like your quad of rebelling would go on forever. Sam Wilson was your best friend, and the first to be told of your failure to continue your raids on missions, and to say that he was holding back fountains in his eyes, was a casual understatement. The Falcon had felt angry at himself for not realising the increase in coughs that fled from your sassy mouth, or how quickly you would get tired.

He put some of that blame upon himself, claiming that he should have been the first to notice the signs. It was his idea, before your struggles were revealed to anyone else, to refuse your aid on missions, which lead to conspiracies from the team. For a couple of weeks, the members that you had fought alongside for so long had speculated that you were pregnant,and even Bucky had even began to fall for that idea.

In the end, they had all wished for that to be true, a child would be a gift, whereas instead, you were bestowed with a curse. Sam had offered for you to stay with Sarah and the kids, but upon your insistence, you remained in the compound, organising files and watching cinematic classics for the thousandth time.

But anyone could see, that every time they discussed the missions, of left to endure them, your face fell, appeased by the thought that you’d never share that experience again. They all tried to distract you, Thor had even taken you on a vacation to New Asgard so that you could relax and play video games with Korg, yelling frustratedly at Noobmaster69 as the kid tried to spite your friend and his gaming skills.

That though, had not ended well, and instead, the noise had brought you insufferable pain, and you had to be taken home. But what was home anymore? You hardly felt as though you belonged upon the army of your friends, or the guardians that they were aligned with.

And so, it was very understandable why Bucky was inclined to worry. All his dragged our life, he had watched people die, or awakened from cryo to find them gone, and the split moments that he were required on missions, was another moment that he had lost with you.

He gulped as he waited for Fury to say something, anything! And when he did, he wished that he could go back in time, and stop you from ever having been an avenger. “It’s agent Y/L/N, something has happened...”

It had been hours of no news, and Stark tapped his well dressed foot. He had requested, - no, insisted the best doctors to tend to your internal and external injury, claiming that if your condition was made any worse, he would personally make sure that they never tended to another patient again.

He was not usually one to be so aggressive, but he feared loss, it was a great flaw and attribute of his. Possibly, in some people’s judgemental eyes, he cared too much, but he never thought so. To him, the billionaire was human, no matter what the citizens over the world thought of him.

Sure, he wore an iron suit to protect the world, but beneath all the metal, he had a heart. And he’d be damned sure that he used it, and that it beat for a purpose. Natasha and Clint were either side of him, the assassins on her phone as she read the captain’s well written message.

“They’ve entered the country.” She spoke, referring to Sam, Bucky and Steve. It was a relief that they were going to be here soon, then they’d all look sane in comparison to Barnes. It was doubtful that he was holding himself together well, these hours had been torture to all of them, but he had actually been tortured in multiple gruelling occasions, but it was nothing in comparison to this.

One of the country’s best and devoted doctors opened the door to the room that you were being stabilised in, leading to all eyes waiting outside to stare hopefully at him. It was an intimidating thing, to have three avengers leaving him with one of their owns lives in his hands, he was not a hero. But to them, he was to be, they trusted him and the various recommendations that had suggested that he would be best suited to the deed.

The fact that he was the man in charge in this situation was to be great steak in his career, though, he would never be able to anyone, not even family, that he had saved the life of an avenger. Due to doctor patient confidentially, he was bribed into silence by the philanthropist himself, who was certain that he was fine for paying for the entire service himself.

Money had no importance to Tony, not as his friend was the patient that could have died. The man removed his sunglasses, sternly looking up at the kind doctor with pleading and urgent eyes, wanting to scoop every detail that he could from the eccentric medic. “How is she?”

The doctor gulped, well aware that there was a weight apparent on his shoulders, even when delivering any news. But this, was a whole new experience, he knew that you, the woman hoisted up in the hospital bed, had saved his coursing during the battle of New York. He was grateful, for everything that you had done, but simultaneously, felt the need to be careful with any tactic that he used to save your life.

“Well,” he licked his dry lips, watching as the Black Widow herself stared into his soul, “she’s stable, for now. And it would be okay if one of you went in, she’s currently in the midst of waking up. However, she is going to be unable to give much in the verse of a conversation, the oxygen mask that she’s wearing has to stay on, and it will not be a good if she tries to waste the breath she’s being given to talk.”

He was interrupted by the sound of competent running down the hall, it was as though the men dressed in their gear ignored the no running rule. But it was understandable, seeing as Bucky’s eyes were wild and wide, as he came to a stop and asked what was going on. Clint stood, bracing a hand upon his shoulder, before informing him the details they had just been given. “I think you should be the first to see her.”

Bucky didn’t argue with Clint, and instead, walked into the room, ensuring that he shut the door behind himself. He smiled painfully at the sight; there were so many tubes, and all the surrounding machines were lit up with statistics that he did not understand. Nevertheless, he looked towards the vacant seat beside your bed, and claimed it for his ass that you had once kicked.

Your eyes watched as he looked down upon you, your hands reaching to remove the mask, but he placed his hand upon your own, and replaced them to be upon your chest. “Shush darling, no talking, doctor’s orders.” He spoke, rubbing your cheek with his right hand, feeling the corner of the mask against the inside of his palm.

“Had me so worried doll, thought I was gonna lose you.” At the thought, a grimace presented itself of his woeful face, and to comfort him, you placed your fingers around his own, absentmindedly playing with them as you listened to his sincere voice. “On the way here, I spoke to Shuri, we are going to see if she can help you in anyway, as long as you’re okay with that. Does that sound good baby?”

Fluttering your eyelashes as you looked through their webbed curtain to stare lovingly at him, you nodded your head, ignoring the spiteful pains that emitted from where the glass had shallowly penetrated your scalp. “Alright, I’ll let her know. And I was thinking...” he waited for a moment to continue, being encouraged by the crease between his brow line.

“What if we stay in Wakanda, and we leave all this behind? We can still see people when they visit, and we can just, have some calm to ourselves. No missions, no aliens to fight, and no Zemo to chase. Or I was thinking, we go and live by Sarah, you love those kids, they’re basically your nephews, and we could take boat rides during the middle of the night, and help the people who live there, and...”

At his rambling, you smiled beneath the plastic system that was around your mouth, listening to him talk and talk about your future together. Yes, you missed missions, but you would give all that up for a normal and easy life, with Bucky Barnes.

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Meant To Be (ii)

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: Over a year after your first interaction with the BAU, it is finally time for your first day as an official team member. Even with all the excitement of the day, the biggest thing you look forward to is seeing Aaron Hotchner again. However, your perfect first day quickly turns out to be not at all what you had imagined. 

Warnings: None, some angst? 

Word Count: 5,585

A/N: Just know that I promise things are going to get better lol.

NOVEMBER 2007

QUANTICO, VA

For the first time in your life the sound of your alarm is a very welcome one as it rouses you from your light slumber. The whole room is filled with light as the sun streams through the cracked blinds. You had been in this apartment for two months now. It had taken some getting used to but it was starting to feel like home. That was very important to you seeing as Quantico was where you were going to be for the foreseeable future. It took you no time at all to sit up in bed, throwing off your blanket. When you got up to start getting ready, everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. Your clothes draped over the chair at the end of the bed, your go-bag on top of the dresser, and your entry paperwork out on the kitchen table. As always, you had thought out every minute detail. You are determined to make sure that your first day at the BAU is perfect. It had taken excruciatingly hard work and dedication to get to where you are now. Nothing and no one is going to spoil it for you.

After getting dressed in record time you grab your go-bag off the dresser and head out to the living room. You set it on the table next to your paperwork and make your way into the kitchen. Scrambled eggs and toast sound like a good way to start the morning so you get out a skillet and a few eggs. Before you even have a chance to turn on the burner the sound of your phone going off in your bedroom causes you to run back in to check it. As you pull it off the charger you immediately smile widely at the name that flashes on your screen.

“Hey there Miss FBI Agent. God, that sounds good doesn’t it? FBI agent. Or maybe BAU agent. Didn’t I hear you say SSA once? What does that mean? Is it good? It sounds pretty powerful.” 

“It means Supervisory Special Agent. And anything you call me that means I’m not hallucinating this whole thing is fine with me.”

“I like that. SSA Y/N L/N. Sounds official. Which is exactly what you are as of today! How are you feeling right now?”

“Excited. Prepared. Kind of like I’m on top of the world.” 

“As you should! It’s been a long journey to get here, you deserve to enjoy every step. I still can’t believe my little sister is in the FBI.” 

Your sister has been your biggest support system for as long as you can remember. No matter what path you choose, you know she will always have your back. It had been heartbreaking to leave her when you moved but you knew it would be worthwhile in the end. Today is when it finally pays off. She has called you almost every day so even though you are states apart, she is never truly absent. Hearing her voice now, getting the chance to share this moment with her, is more important to you than you know how to express.

“I can’t believe that you’re awake before noon.” This earns a scoff.

“I will have you know that I set an alarm for 5:30 so I would be awake in time to tell you good morning before you head off to work.” 

“That’s very sweet of you. I’m really glad you called.”

“Hey, there’s no way in hell I was gonna miss your first day!” 

“I appreciate that. It means a lot to have your support.”

“Of course! I will always give it freely. Besides, this is too cool not to talk about. You get to catch bad guys. You now have special government access. Plus you can basically read minds. You’re a real life superhero. How totally awesome is that?”

“Oh, I know. Why do you think I wanted the job? I’m glad you’re able to see its merits. Most people find it very morbid. Or boring.” 

“Well most people aren’t us.” Glancing over at the clock, you can’t help a small sigh from leaving your chest. Your sister of course catches on. “Do you have to go?” 

“Yeah. I only have about 15 minutes. Thank you so much for calling though! I always look forward to hearing from you.”

“Well I don’t have any patients today and I expect you to call me later tonight so we can talk about everything, okay?”

“Okay, it’s a plan. I love you.” 

“I love you too. Have a great first day.” You hang up quickly, making your way back into the kitchen to put away what you had gotten out. Instead you pull out a few granola bars to eat on the way. Even though this isn’t quite what you had planned you don’t mind one bit. Talking to your sister is more important. You briefly wonder if she took today off just so she could be there for you or if it is just a coincidence. If it was on purpose, you wouldn’t be surprised. It had always been kind of funny to you what careers both of you had chosen. She is a therapist. You are a profiler. While the two do have distinct differences there are also a lot of striking similarities. It’s just funny how life works out sometimes. Never what you expect. 

You head into the bedroom to grab your go-bag, making sure everything you need is in there. Picking up the paperwork from the table, you head out the door and downstairs to your car. After loading your things up, you turn on the radio to the most uplifting station you can find. This is the kind of morning where nothing less than radiant positivity is welcomed. It’s the first day of your new life and you are going to make the most of it, even if it kills you. 

The drive seems to go by in an instant and soon you find yourself in the parking lot of the BAU headquarters. There is still confidence bubbling inside of you but seeing the building right there in front of you causes the nerves to kick in as well. It seems so much bigger to you now. With a deep breath, you realize you need a little boost from your good luck charm. The small compartment on top of your dashboard opens with a click and you pull out the piece of paper inside. It feels good to have in your hands and you read the name at the top over and over again. Aaron Hotchner. His business card had stayed in your car all these years and whenever you felt nervous or unsteady, you pulled it out and for some reason it always calmed you. You were grateful to have it now more than ever. 

Feeling renewed, you set the card back in its cubby and get out of the car. Things in hand, you stride right up to the front doors and let yourself inside. Once inside the main lobby you head over to the front desk, where a man asks for your ID. Reaching into the front pocket of your go bag you pull out the badge you had collected weeks in advance. A feeling of power washes over you when he clears you, much like a year and a half ago when you had stepped inside the Fort Worth precinct. However, it was a much more intense feeling now. 

The journey towards the main offices of the BAU feels like a dream. The elevator carries you to the right floor and you float towards the glass doors that lead into your new workspace. Inside, it is bright and full of life. People move past you with such fluidity that it seems almost like a dance and baby, you are ready to tango.

Soon your attention is being commanded by a friendly voice you recognize very quickly. “Well, look who it is!”

Morgan makes his way towards you, a wide grin on his face. He looks just how you remember. You are glad the first person to greet you is someone you know. Now standing in front of you, he raises his arms and his expression changes as he silently asks for your permission. With a nod, you reach out as well as he pulls you in for a hug. 

“It’s nice to see you again sweetheart. I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna show up.” Laughing lightly at this, you feel yourself relaxing. “Look at you, all professional. How does it feel?” 

“Completely liberating. It feels like it took me a lifetime to get here and now that I am, I can’t wait to get started.” 

“Well, you’re gonna get your chance sooner than you think. We just got a case this morning. They called us in a little early to debrief us. We’ll fill you in on the jet. It’s go time baby.” He lightly pats your arm with a smile as he leads you over to where the rest of the team is, all sat at their desks. Spencer and JJ you recognize but there’s one face that you haven’t seen before. “Look who finally made it.”

JJ stands quickly to give you a hug, patting your back. “Leave her alone. She was doing a lot of hard work to get here. She doesn’t deserve to be teased in her first ten minutes on the job.” She says to Morgan, shooting him a playful glare. “Welcome. We’re really excited to have you here. You’re going to make a wonderful addition to the team. If you ever need anything just let me know, okay?” 

“I will. Promise. Thanks.” Spencer is the next to stand, extending his hand to you. Taking it in your own, you nod respectfully. You don’t linger, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

“Hi. Sorry, I’m not much of a hugger.” 

“Oh, no need to be sorry. I definitely get it. It’s nice to see you again. I know we didn’t really get a chance to talk the last time we saw each other but I’m hoping to change that now that we’re coworkers.” 

“Of course. I would like that.” There is still a slight awkwardness in the way he smiles but not nearly as much so as when you first met him. He’s the only one of the three that you don’t feel much of a connection with but you are determined to change that. These were your peers now. Your new family. It was important to you that you get to know all of them. It was jarring at first seeing how familiar they are with you already but it doesn’t take long for you to become comfortable as well. However you quickly remember that there is one person you still haven’t met. Turning to her, you extend your hand. 

“Hello. I’m Y/N L/N.” She shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Emily Prentiss. These guys seem to have the advantage here. How do you all know each other?” 

“Oh, I shadowed them about a year and a half ago now while I was still a student. Today is my first day as a member of the team.” 

“That’s wonderful! Well, I’m excited to get to know you as well.” She offers a welcoming smile, one you appreciate. As you look around the bullpen you take note of the fact that Elle is nowhere to be found. At the moment you feel it isn’t your place to bring this up, so you simply smile at the people who are with you now. 

“So, I hear we’ve got a case.” You begin, desperately wanting to learn everything you can now so you can fully prepare yourself.

“Yeah,” JJ answers. “It’s a string of high level armed robberies in Los Angeles. Nobody has been able to identify or apprehend any of the unsubs. There are five of them. All of the robberies were almost identical except for the last one. Someone was shot and killed. That’s when the authorities invited us to work the case.” 

“Sounds like fun, huh?” Derek chimes in, jabbing you with his elbow. 

“I don’t know if fun is the right word. Interesting sounds better, I think. I’m ready to get started though.” 

“Yeah, I see that,” He gestures to your go-bag. “Good thing you’re all packed. That was a smart choice. They don’t always tell you to bring a bag on the first day. You’re all over it though.” 

“Well, you only get one shot at a first impression. I wanted to be seen as professional. Plus I am very rarely unprepared for things.” 

“Good. That’s a pretty good philosophy to hang onto, especially in this profession. The more prepared you are going into it, the better equipped you are to handle the stressors of the job. There’s a lot of tough things you’re gonna have to deal with but if you charge head first with a clear sense of where you’re going and what you’re doing, it’ll take a lot of the anxiety out of it.” You listen intently as he speaks with a tone of sincerity you have not yet heard from him. When he sees you staring at him, he chuckles. “First tip is free but next time I’m gonna charge you. Good advice like that doesn’t come cheap.” 

“Okay, good to know.” You laugh, looking towards the others with a smile. “How about you guys? Any free tips for the newbie?” 

“Yeah,” Emily chimes in. “Don’t listen to anything Morgan says.” This causes him to roll his eyes jokingly. “Although here’s a real piece of advice. No matter what happens, no matter how hard the job gets, don’t forget who you are. Don’t let this work compromise your beliefs and your morals. There are going to be times when you rethink what you know but don’t let the awful things you see harden you and turn you into someone you’re not. I can already see that you have a real light and kindness about you. Never let the bad people take that away from you or else they win.” Hearing this, your expression softens. For only having known you for a few minutes, Emily already seems to have bonded with you. Enough to give you such important advice. Her words linger in your head for a moment.

“I’ll definitely remember that.” JJ places a hand on your arm. 

“Can I add something?” You nod eagerly, wanting to soak up all of the knowledge that you possibly can from these people. “My advice would be to talk to your loved ones as often as you can. Trust me, you’ll definitely want to after some of the stuff that we see. Talking to someone outside of work and grounding yourself in those relationships will help keep you sane. You’re going to be really grateful for a strong support system later on.” 

“Luckily I do have a really strong support system in my sister. She basically raised me. She’s my best friend. It was hard to leave her but I know she still supports my decision.” 

“That’s so great. I’m really glad you have someone like that.” You nod, feeling a small tinge of sadness when you think about how much you wish she was here with you. However, it passes quickly when Morgan puts his hand on your shoulder as a sign of comfort. The gesture is simple but calming, almost as if he’s telling you that he is a part of your support system now too. You know the people surrounding you will have your back. That thought lifts your spirits immeasurably. 

“What about you? I’m sure I could get some good advice from a genius.” You say to Spencer after clearing your throat. 

He chuckles lightly and thinks for a moment. “I guess I would say don’t let your age stop you from reaching your potential. You and I are the same age so I think I know to some extent how nerve wracking all this must be. Just know that even though you are young you have a lot of skills and abilities to bring to the table. Chase after what you want and soak up everything you can now. I’m obviously a strong believer in the collection of knowledge so the more you learn the better off you’ll be later. And you have as much right to be here as anyone else. You’ve done the work so believe in your own skills.” The three of you watch him for a moment and he looks between you. “But, hey, what do I know.” His joke makes you laugh.

“No, that’s really good advice. Thank you.” Before you have a chance to say anything else, a voice from behind causes all of you to stop.

“What’s all the commotion out here?” Turning around quickly you see an older man with dark hair standing on the walkway that wraps around the bullpen. His eyebrows are raised as he begins making his way towards you. Upon seeing him you put on your best professional face but the others seem to stay relaxed as he walks over to you. Once he’s standing next to you he offers you his hand. “Hello.” You take it quickly, shaking hands with him as you maintain eye contact. Unsure of who this man is, you are afraid to make a bad impression. As you look into his eyes there is something so strikingly familiar about him but you aren’t quite sure what it is. “Who might you be?” 

“Sorry, sir. I am Y/N L/N. Today is my first day as a member of the BAU. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His dark expression immediately lightens as he gives you a small smile. 

“Ah. It’s nice to meet you as well. Sorry to scare you. I just have to keep these trouble makers in line from time to time.” Seeing him smile causes you to grin as well, beginning to relax again.

“Of course. It’s not a problem at all sir.” 

“Well I’m David Rossi. Welcome to the BAU, I guess would be an appropriate introduction. I promise I’m not always so scary.” 

“Just most of the time.” Derek adds, causing David to give him a look.

“Please ignore him. I like to think I’m a nice man. I don’t want to scare you off on your first day.” At this you can’t help but laugh. 

“Oh trust me sir, you won’t. I’ve worked really hard to get here. There’s no getting rid of me now.” This causes him to laugh. 

“That’s a good attitude to have. It’ll get you pretty far in this career. Keep working, keep putting the bad people away. It may take a while but it’s a gratifying feeling. In the meantime, just keep your chin up and you’ll be just fine. You seem like a bright kid.” 

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.” 

“Please, you can call me Rossi. Everyone else does.” 

“Okay. Rossi. Thanks.” With a warm smile he pats your arm. 

“If you want a prime example of working hard to get ahead, look at Hotch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that man not at work. That’s why he’s the boss.” Derek says. His words make your breath hitch. Just the mention of his name makes you nervous. It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him and you only spent time together for one day but even so he has been such a huge inspiration to you. And seemingly for good reason. You already know that Hotchner is going to be the man to impress around here but you don’t mind that much.

“Speaking of, have you spoken with Hotch yet today?” Rossi asks. 

“No. I actually have some paperwork that I need to give to him before we leave, clearing me to travel and all of that. Could I possibly see him now?” You try not to sound too desperately hopeful.

“Yeah, of course. His office is right up there.” Rossi points to a door across the room. With a deep breath you nod in gratitude and then begin making the walk over to his office. It seems like an endless journey as you remind yourself over and over again that he’s just a person and you don’t need to be so afraid. Or nervous. Excited? Infatuated? Whatever the feeling is, it’s overwhelming. Once you’re outside his door, you close your eyes and breath before knocking. His voice is clear coming from the other side as he tells you to come in. 

Opening the door cautiously, you step inside with paperwork in hand. Hotch is sitting at his desk filling something out, not looking up.

“Good morning sir.” Upon hearing your voice he looks quickly up at you. His eyes are just as dark and intense as you dreamed, fixated completely on you. The two of you maintain eye contact for a moment and the world is nothing but him. Suddenly realizing what you’re doing you force yourself to snap out of it, reminding yourself that this man is your boss and you’re acting like a lunatic. 

“Good morning.” He says simply, not moving as he watches you intently. Willing yourself to gather up all of your confidence, you walk over to stand right in front of his desk. 

“It’s really lovely to see you again. Being here is like a dream. At the BAU, I mean. I’ve been looking forward to it for so long, I almost can’t believe that I’m here. Now that I am though, I’m ready to work. I plan to earn your trust now just like I did the last time we worked together. I won’t let you down.” With a sudden flush of embarrassment, you grip the papers tightly. You have only been in his office for a few seconds and already you have completely exploded in excitement. Taking another breath, you calm yourself. “Sorry sir. I’m just very excited to be here. If you couldn’t tell.” 

There is another moment of silence as Hotch’s eyes stay locked on yours, scrutinizing your expression with calm intensity. For a second you can almost see him thinking, as though he’s working something out in his head though you aren’t quite sure what that is. After a moment he stands up, putting you both on equal footing. Everything about him commands your focus and attention. A quiet prayer hangs on your lips as you wait for him to say your name again after all this time. Just once is all you need and then you’d be happy. No more daydreams, no more delusions, no more distractions. Just once and you can do your job. If only he’d quit staring at you so deeply and tell you exactly what you want to hear.

“I do appreciate your heartfelt words ma’am but I’m afraid I’m at a loss. I’m not sure I know who you are.” With that your heart drops. Of all the things he could have possibly said, this was the most disappointing. It’s such a small sentence but it is a mighty blow.

“I’m sorry?” You inquire, hoping that maybe you misunderstood.

“I’m really very sorry ma’am but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not sure we’ve ever met.” Nope, you had understood what he was saying perfectly much to your dismay.

“My name is Y/N L/N sir. We did meet a little over a year ago now. You came to my hometown to work on a case and I spent the day shadowing you. I was a student at the time. Today is my first day here as a team member.” Hotch says nothing in response for a time, his expression exposing what seems to be a deep sense of regret. 

“I apologize. We go through a lot of cases, it’s difficult for me to keep track of all the people that come and go in my life.” That is all you need to hear to shut down any further fantasizing. You had come and gone from his life a long time ago. Frankly you feel foolish for indulging these thoughts anyway. It was one day a year ago. There is nothing to look into. He is your boss now, not some high school crush. This is a professional environment. This would be for the better anyway. At least those are the sorts of things you tell yourself. “I really don’t mean any offense. It’s nice to meet you. Needless to say we’ll get to know each other now since we’ll be working together. Welcome to the team.” He tries to soften his expression but there is still a severity to it that doesn’t ease the knot in your stomach. 

“It’s really my fault, sir. I shouldn’t have expected you to remember me. It was a long time ago and you’re a very busy man. No offense taken. I’m excited to work with you.” Trying to change the subject, you extend your paperwork towards him. “Here’s all of my entry paperwork. It gives me authorization to travel, my medical and professional history is there as well. All I need is your signature and I will be clear to begin working.” Looking through it quickly he nods before signing each of the necessary lines. He hands it back to you and you nod awkwardly before deciding to merely head towards the door. “Thank you sir. I’ll take this to the front desk really quickly and I’ll be good to work this latest case. I’ve already brought a go-bag.” 

“Oh, you won’t be needing a go-bag.” This stops you in your tracks.

“I won’t?” You ask, turning to face him. 

“No, you won’t. You’re not travelling with us for the case.” Every dream you’d had about your first day at the BAU is crumbling around you with every word that comes out of his mouth. 

“Can I ask why, sir?” Leaning down to open a cabinet, he pulls out his own go-bag and unzips it to check its contents. This simple act of dismissal is enough to make you feel an inch tall. 

“It’s only your first day, I don’t hardly know anything about you. I don’t feel comfortable taking an agent into the field that is practically a stranger to me and to the rest of my team. It will only compromise your safety and the safety of others. When I get back, we’ll have a discussion and see where you’re at when the next case rolls around.”

“But sir,” For a second your own words ring in your head. You’re the boss. No explanation necessary. You are not the kind of person that questions authority. You never have been and you thought you never would be but hearing your new boss say this to you makes your blood boil for some reason. It’s like Spencer said. You have as much right to be here as anyone else and you have not gone through seven years of grueling work to be put on the sidelines from day one. “I have studied and trained for a long time. I put in the work, the same as the rest of you and that’s why I’m here. I didn’t just show up on accident, it’s because I’m good at what I do. I have all the paperwork and I am prepared to put in the effort on this case.” His movements have stopped now and his eyes stay locked on yours, unable to look away as you speak. Once you’re finished he breaks away and sighs deeply. 

“I am not disputing any of that but I am responsible for the safety of my team and now that includes you. It would make me feel much better if I could talk with you before sending you to the front lines. I’m on your side here even if it doesn’t seem like it. But at the end of the day I am your boss and I have final say. The answer is no. I want to like you, Y/N. Don’t give me reason to distrust you on your first day.” 

“Yes sir,” Is all you are able to mutter as you feel yourself deflate. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” The shift in your demeanor must have been palpable because his expression suddenly softens and a hint of a smile ghosts over his lips as he walks over to you. 

“I know you didn’t. I’m sorry to disappoint you but you’ll have your chance soon enough.” With that, he grabs his bag and walks out of the office. In no more than ten minutes all of your big hopes and dreams for your perfect first day at the BAU were crushed. Everything has been happening so fast that it still seems like it might not be real. It’s all you can do to walk back out into the bullpen. Derek is the first one to notice your mood shift. 

“What happened?” With a forced smile you shake your head.

“I’m not going to be joining you guys. The boss doesn’t feel comfortable letting me into the field just yet. I guess it makes sense.” Hearing this, Derek, JJ, and Spencer all three share a confused look.

“It actually doesn’t make that much sense. If you’ve got the paperwork, you are clear to go in the field. Everything should be in order. I’m not sure why he would wanna keep you behind. You’ll learn more in the field than you will sitting here.” Emily and JJ nod in agreement and you shrug off his questioning.

“It is what it is. I’ll just have to make the most out of it.” You quiet down but he can see that there is still something upsetting you.

“Okay, come on. What else happened?” The expression on his face is one of determination as he stares you down, waiting for an answer. 

“It’s nothing really. It’s just that he didn’t remember me and I was a little disappointed. That’s all. It’s not really a big deal.” 

“No, that is definitely a big deal. Hotch is not a forgetful man. Especially when it comes to people. If he worked one on one with you a year ago and he knew you were going to be a future member of his team, he would have paid especially close attention to you. That just definitely doesn’t seem right to me.” As much as you agreed with him you decided now wasn’t the time to push the issue. 

“Well, I’m sure he just had a lot on his mind. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, good luck guys. I’ll see you when you get back.” The look on Derek’s face indicates that he wants to continue the conversation but he doesn’t. The three of them grab their go-bags and head to the door. Following them you smile when Derek gives you a side hug.

“We’ll all go get a drink when we get back. I promise.” You nod. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Before he can walk out the doors with the others you stop him. “Hey. Thanks. I know we still don’t know each other that well but I appreciate you making me feel welcome.” 

“No problem, kid. You’re one of us now. We have to protect our own.” With one last smile he disappears through the main doors. Stepping out after him you stop when you see Hotch standing right outside the doors. With a small breath you walk over to him. 

“You’ll be working with our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. Go down to the bottom floor. Her office will be the third door on the right when you get off the elevator. She’ll introduce herself. She’s very friendly. We’ll speak when I get back.” With that, he too disappears. 

In little more than thirty minutes, your perfect day is ruined before it has even really begun. Thoughts spin inside your head faster than you can comprehend. It feels like your fault for letting your expectations get so high. There is no way of erasing it. No matter how many good days you have from here on out, your first day at the BAU will always be a sad memory. It hadn’t been all bad of course. It had been nice to talk with the other team members for the short time that you had. However, that feeling was quickly ruined by your interaction with Hotchner. He was one of the main reasons you were so excited to begin working. You were sure that he would have some inspirational words of advice for you but all he had done was make you feel belittled. There was no way of taking that back. Now you were side lined for your very first case and it was completely out of your control. You really wish you had your good luck charm right about now. Something tells you you’re going to need it now more than ever. The Hotch that exists within that business card is the one you want to linger in your memories. The respectful and professional agent who had made you feel so respected and appreciated. That is the Hotch you need right now but that isn’t the man you’d spoken with today. That is what broke your heart more than anything. With one last longing look at the main doors you gather yourself up and head down to meet Penelope Garcia. 

Tags:  @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut​ @ssahotchie​ @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester @hotch-stufff​

[diamond-coral]

The Heist- Part Two

Steve x Reader Chapter Summary: Steve sees you working at a club. Now Steve wants you...and he’ll have you.

Series Warnings: dark, rape/non-con, kidnapping, stripper themes, swearing, crime

Chapter Warnings: male masturbation, swearing, stripper themes, kidnapping, crime, mild violence, threats of rape/non-con, creepy crazy stevo

Steve had begrudgingly went to the strip club with Bucky and Sam because, as Sam said, ‘Modern women are somethin’ else compared to the 1940’s.’. Bucky was much more enthusiastic to see how much things had changed as a once been ladies’ man from the 40’s even if it meant having to go with Sam who bickered with him every five minutes. And while Bucky’s enthusiasm remained as they entered the club, the blaring music, flashing lights, and women in skimpy outfits had Steve remaining unimpressed.

Until he saw you.

You weren’t on the stage but rather talking to a coworker in the back of the room, a tray of drinks in one hand and a smile on your face that could light up a room. An honest, genuine smile that stood out in a room filled with nothing but empty sultry smiles given by dancers. Your coworker said something, and you threw your head back and let out a laugh that Steve could’ve sworn he had heard ringing all the way across the club over the blaring music.

You were perfect.

While you were still scantily clad in nothing but a light pink shimmery sheer top that showed your bra perfectly cupping your breasts, a pair of barely their black shorts, and black heels that had his eyes dragging up and down your legs, your demeanor and posture was more relaxed, and that’s what he loved. You weren’t sticking your tits out in front of you or pushing your ass back, but were rather slouched a little, eyes shimmering with excitement as you talked. What Steve saw of you was raw and authentic, and he loved it.

Sam’s voice interrupted Steve from his daydreaming, and Steve shot him a look of irritation causing Sam to raise his hands in defense.

“Woah there loverboy,” Sam chuckled. “I was just gonna suggest, you should ask for a dance from that girl you’re ogling over.”

“And before you go over and court her with your righteousness and whisk her away to waltz like prince charming, he means a lapdance, punk,” Bucky says while taking a sip of his drink.

“I- I was’t ogling,” Steve sputtered, but let out a sigh of defeat at Sam’s raised eyebrow. “I’m not gonna ask for a lapdance. Besides, she seems to be just waiting tables. I wouldn’t wanna interrupt-”

“You’re hopeless,” Sam teased as he brought his fingers to his mouth to let out a shrill cab whistle. You turned, and Sam caught your attention, beckoning you over with two fingers.

“Hiya fellas,” you said, and Steve frowned a little at the sultry voice you put on. “What can I help you with?”

“Just another round of drinks, sugar. Oh- and-” Sam leaned to whisper something in your ear and Steve noticed your eyes widening a little before your gaze snapped to him, a small smile on your painted lips.

“Of course,” you responded to Sam. “I’ll be back with your drinks shortly.”

As you turned to leave, Steve frowned at Sam. “What did you tell her,” he asked.

“Oh nothing much. Just mentioned that THE Captain America was looking for a little bit of fun tonight.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a groan. “Sam you dumbass.”

“Hey, he’s doing more about it than you,” Bucky interjected. “Sometimes it’s just sad watching you when you just sit and do - oh shit here she’s comes.”

“Alright, and I’ve got another round of drinks,” you said cheerfully while distributing the glasses. “And you, Mr. Rogers…” You sat on one of Steve’s thick thighs while placing your hands on the collar of his button up shirt and smoothing it down. “You’re friend told me you’re lookin’ for something… special tonight?”

Steve’s throat was dry and he was sure you could feel his heart practically beating out of his chest. “Oh well...I um-I.”

“What Mr. Womanizer would like to say is that he accepts your offer,” Sam offered, and Steve shot him what was probably the one-hundredth dirty look of the night.

“Well then.” You got off his lap and tugged on his arm. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

________________________________________________________________

Half an hour later, Steve returned a mess. The first few buttons of button up were undone, his hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed, and his heart hadn’t stopped racing.

“Good time?” Bucky inquired with a smirk.

Steve could barely form any words other than ‘where’s Sam’ to which Bucky pointed to the crowd of sweaty dancing bodies where Sam was shamelessly grinding on some woman.

“Oh God, I need a drink.” Steve fixed his hair with one hand while the other dipped into his pocket to retrieve a flask of Asgardian liquor Thor had given him.

“Was she that good?” 

“Well yes, but it wasn’t just the dance. It was her,”  Steve answered while burying his face in his hands. He felt like the scrawny kid from Brooklyn again. Completely flustered as he chased after a girl totally out of his league. “I don’t know Buck, she’s just-she’s just perfect.”

“Stevie, look around you. Every woman here is practically perfect. And they’re goddesses. That girl is just a girl.”

“No it’s just- you don’t understand. She’s just…” Steve let out an exasperated sigh and Bucky’s eyes softened.

“Wow you really like her don’t ya?” Steve just nodded in reply. “Well what if we came back again when she’s working?”

“No that wouldn’t work,” Steve said. “But...I think I have an idea.”

“And am I involved in this idea at all?”

“Maybe.” Steve laughed at his friend who groaned.

Steve then continued to explain his plan. He pointed out the coworker you had been friendly with when he first saw you, and asked Bucky to get some information out of her since he was the less recognizable out of the two. Steve needed to see you again. Not just that...he needed you. You were just so perfect for him, and Steve knew that the moment he laid eyes on you. The genuineness of your smile and laugh, just the way you were so authentic amidst your surroundings just showed you didn’t really belong in this environment or even this time period of imitation and phonies. But you belonged with him. And he’d preserve that authenticity. 

Bucky just simply nodded, and at first Steve was nervous that his best friend was going to call him crazy, but after a bit, Bucky got up and snatched Steve’s flask while flashing him a grin.

“Bout time we got you a girl, huh pal?”

Steve sighed in relief, and as Bucky trotted off, he went to find Sam.

Steve explained to Sam that he was gonna go home while Bucky worked some “wingman magic” and Sam started letting out fits of laughter at how THE Captain America was ‘down bad’. 

Finally, after Sam had finally calmed down, he wished him goodbye and headed home.

He had some things to take care of.

________________________________________________________________

As Steve guided his hand up and down his shaft, all he could think about was you.

Your tits, your ass that had ground on his crotch at the club, your red lips around he imagined on his cock. You’d probably use your skilled hands as well, not being able to fit his entire member into your mouth. 

Steve’s thoughts didn’t stop there.

He thought about how your hips moved while in the private dance room. He thought about how although you were undeniably sexy, you were also so kind to him, once in a while asking if everything was okay and if he wanted anything else from you. He thought about how you simply smiled and let out your angelic laugh as Steve fumbled and stuttered, simply putting your hands over his and telling him everything was okay and he could sit back and relax, not having to take charge after a long day of commanding people. The light pink color of your lingerie was so beautifully innocent as your body moved lewdly in contrast. And he loved it.

Steve came with a shout to the image ingrained in his mind.

________________________________________________________________

A few minutes after Steve had cleaned up and taken a much needed cold shower, he received a call from Bucky.

“You’re right,” Bucky’s voice spoke through the phone. “Two drops of that Asgardian shit and she was completely mentally clocked out. Told me everything about your girl.” 

As Bucky told Steve your name, Steve tried it out on his tongue for himself.

“Also told me a little bit of a little side job they got goin on. Your girl’s a bit of a criminal, Stevie. Sure you still want her?”

“I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“Well you’re right in that actually. According to...Bella-yeah I think that’s her name-,” Bucky recounted. “They steal from people to pay for rent and art school. And I just so happened to tell her about some skeevy old timer government worker who happened to be loaded from scamming low income taxpayers. Who also happens to live at your address.”

“Wait, you want her to rob me?!” Steve exclaimed.

“Will you just let me finish?” Bucky took Steve’s silence as an opportunity to continue. “I told Bella no one would be home while your girl does the job, but obviously you’ll be home so she can’t get away. She’s literally coming to you on a silver platter pal. Could it get any better than that?”

Steve took a moment to consider the situation before replying. “You’re right. Thanks pal. I really owe you one.”

Bucky chuckled. “Well I got one hell of a blow job so I’ll say we’re almost even. Anyway, she’ll be comin in a week, so that’ll give you plenty of time to prepare.”

_______________________________________________________________

You awoke slowly to sunlight streaming through your apartment window, your bed feeling more comfortable than usual, and a warm arm wrapped around your-

What the hell?

Your body thrashed as you jolted awake and flung yourself away from the body next to you in the bed that very much wasn’t yours in the apartment that was always not yours. Steve Rogers just sat up on his elbows and gave a groggy smile at your frazzled state.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You recalled your memory, trying to see if this was some sort of drunken hookup, and it all came back to you. The heist, him coming home early.

“Didn’t mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?” were the words he had said before he had grabbed your hair in an iron grip and smashed your head on the near coffee table. Everything was black after that.

“Oh my God...you,” you began to back away from him.

“I what, sweetheart?” he mused. “Last time I checked, this is my apartment, and you were the one breaking and entering.”

You scrambled backwards off the bed, but just as you were about to reach the bedroom door, something cold and hard pulled against your ankle causing you to topple face first onto his carpet. Turning your head, you observed a metal cuff secured around your ankle with a chain leading back to the foot of the bed. 

Steve used the time you took panicking and hyperventilating to get out of bed and leisurely stretch his arms as if this was a normal occurrence. He approached you cautiously as if you were a wild animal and bent down to softly cup your face with a large hand.

“It’s okay, doll, I didn’t hurt you. Just let you sleep a bit before I caught you up to speed today.”

“Did- did you…,” you sniffled at the thought of what that man could’ve done to you while you slept.

“No. God no!” You nerves calmed a little bit as you were reassured that America’s hero was still the gentlemanly golden boy you met at the club. That was before he tilted your chin to meet his sinister gaze. “I wanted our first time to be while you were awake.”

Your heart dropped. This man was crazy.

You began to frantically yank at the chain on your ankle and your breathing became shorter.

“Hey. Hey! Stop it!” he urged before grabbing both of your hands and holding them in a steel grip. “Listen. I know this is all..new...but you need me. And I need you. When I saw you at the club, you were just so perfect. You’re not like those other women. You don’t belong there. You don’t belong in this life. I can take care of you. I will take care of you.” A tear slipped from your eye at his words but he just brushed it away with his thumb and continued. “You just don’t understand yet. When I saw you, I just knew you were meant for me. You’re perfect, doll.”

All you did was stare at him in disbelief and mutter, “You’re crazy.”

He went to soothe you again and brush a lock of hair away from your face, but you thrashed and said it louder.

“You’re crazy, you’re fucking crazy!”

“Doll, you don’t understand. I love you. And you’ll love me. I promise just give it some time and-”

“No you’re deranged. You’re FUCKING DELIRIOUS!!” you screech as your hand shot out and slapped him across the cheek.

The room went dead silent. You froze, and so did he. You had just slapped Steve Rogers across the face. You slapped the pure muscle mass six foot super soldier and called him delirious, and he looked hurt. His face was painted with a heartbroken look of regret, disbelief, and sorrow. But not from the slap. It’s like your words had hit him like a ten-ton truck, and for a second you saw doubt flicker across his eyes as if realizing that everything he imagined was in his head. And in that doubt was your hope. Your hope that this man would come to his senses and let you go.

“Steve...please, you have to realize this is wrong,” you said softly as he gave you a broken look. In that look you saw the scrawny kid from Brooklyn in the 1940s who only knew rejection, and your heart broke just a little bit. “What you’re feeling...it isn’t love.”

All of a sudden his demeanor changed. Any doubt in his eyes was wiped away in a nanosecond and replaced by a fierce look of determination. His face contorted into a snarl as he yanked you up with him by your hair and spun you around to press your front against the well.

“You dumb bitch,” he growled into your ear. “You think you don't need me when you’re a pathetic thief who whores herself out every night.”

You writhed in his hold but he just gripped your hair harder and let out a breathy laugh.

“You know...for someone like you to stoop so low as to work at that club...it makes me think. You wanna be treated like a whore?” he seethed. “Fine. I’ll treat you like a whore.”

a/n: don’t worry I don’t think working at a strip club is “low” at all. just some classic sexist bs from our good old 1940′s fav

[hairenya]

The most stupid concept in American politics is constitutional originalism. Like it would be funny if it didn’t do so much damage to the nation as a whole.

You’re telling me the constitution (which has amendments btw, I can’t stress enough how it has amendments) can only be interpreted to mean what the framers originally intended in the exact words it’s written in and can never be changed. Notice how these people always seem to think the framers would agree with them even when we have letters explicitly to the contrary. But even done in good faith it’s still a stupid concept. Tell me you’re incapable of independent thought and problem solving without telling me. Did you also ask your mom’s permission for everything as a child? Do you need your dad to give you advice on whether or not to eat a grape? Like it’s such a cowardly cop out for people who are too afraid to take ownership of their own opinions and responsibility for their own rulings.

“But the founding fathers”- I hate to be the one to tell you this but they’re dead babe. That’s how the passage of time works. They are d-e-a-d dead. Jefferson is scrubbing a toilet with his toothbrush in Hell. John Adams is getting drunk with the angels. Alexander Hamilton was most recently reincarnated as a squirrel and Ben Franklin won’t stop sexually harassing people via mirror writing at seances. Do you want us to Ouija board them every time there’s a court case? If so Hasbro better release an updated version with caller ID so Dick Cheney doesn’t hide in the vents pretending to be the voice of god to spark a war again. For people who constantly yell about dead people voting, you seem to think we should let dead people make policy.

Of course, they get around this by claiming the constitution was “divinely inspired”. Okay main character syndrome. I don’t think you should take governing advice from a guy who flooded the earth because he had a temper tantrum but it sure would explain a lot. If we’re going to base our government on a narcissistic autocrat who doesn’t tolerate dissent, may I suggest Stalin instead? He doesn’t have quite as high a death toll as God (he’s only human after all) but at least we’d maybe get healthcare out of it. Plus while I realize it wouldn’t help the country any, putting dead leaders in glass coffins would be personally beneficial to my morale. “Jesus is love”- No sweetie that’s Shrek but okay sure. I’m down. Let’s base our government on history’s most controversial hippie. Oh sorry, not what you had in mind?

The worst part is that this idea that the constitution can only mean exactly what it explicitly says nothing more or less with no room for common sense, critical thinking, or interpretation has been expanded to apply to almost every text. It trickles down. When the people in charge of educational policy can’t read between the lines, you get an entire generation who struggles with the idea that not everything has to be explicitly stated. That you can interpret things without spoon feeding. That an author not having a footnote disclaimer decrying the actions of their character as immoral does not, in fact, mean they condone irl murder.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being an Avenger from outer space

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n: this isn’t great but like im down for some avengers hc requests

prompt:

you weren’t exactly accepted on earth the moment you got there

but it wasn’t long before the avengers spotted you

“state your name and your business here” -tony

“wait, stark, just a moment! are you a [alien species]?” -thor

“...my name is y/n, i had nowhere else to go. and yes, i am [alien species]”

i mean, this would be much cooler if the avengers hadn’t already had a bad run-in with the chitauri army

but at least you weren’t trying to destroy any part of earth

“why don’t you come with us for a while? you might be safer in our custody” -cap

you were very uncomfortable with that, but you believed that whatever you were running from couldn’t get you if you stayed with “earth’s mightiest heroes”

and that you were...sort of

the bounty hunters that were on your trail, they didn’t know much about the avengers

so they were dumb enough to strike first

luckily, the avengers took a liking to you

“this is for messing with our new friend!” -tony as he straight up fries one of these goons

you seemed to fight well with them

it made them want to keep you around more than they wanted clint

“having fun, y/n?” -nat

“honestly, yes! i’ve never kicked ass in a group before!”

“i felt the same way on my first mission with these guys” -nat

“wait...is this a mission?”

“well, yeah? what’d you think it was, chess?” -nat

“what? what’s chess?”

oh, my god, this was like thor all over again, it was gonna be great

once the battle was over, they had a question to ask you

but before that...

“did any of you kill the leader?” -you

“which one was the leader?” -sam

“the one with...with the face” *puts clawed hand in front of face for effect*

“thanks, that was really specific” -sam

“you know, he’s got...” *puts fingers near face* “tentacles?”

“you couldn’t say that first?” -tony

“i didn’t know if they were called tentacles here”

okay, that was fair

at that moment the mf hopped out and you pushed clint out of the way so that he didn’t get shot. he said “ow” :( but u were too busy tackling a fellow alien

“you let the rest of those hunters know that they shouldn’t even think about coming after me, are we clear?”

“you’re sparing me?”

“don’t be too flattered, you’re nothing but a messenger to me” *shoots him in the arm*

okay that was a power move

as you kicked this bounty hunter back into his ship, the avengers crew reapproached

“got any plans now that you’ve taken care of your little ‘issue?’” -cap

“you know, i haven’t really thought that far ahead”

“well, if you’re up for it, the avengers would love to have you” -nat

you couldn’t have agreed faster lmaoo

the government didnt like you much

the human population actually wasn’t too fond of you either

but the avengers wouldn’t let anyone touch you

thor made it his own mission to show you all the new stuff that he had discovered on earth

“and these are pop tarts!!” -thor

im talking animals, snacks, music, and more

and dont even get me started on parties

no actually i will

“so, youre from space? list 3 species i’ve never heard of before” -random partygoer

“well, how would you know im not making them up if you’ve never heard them before?”

not much of a comeback for that

you’d only answer questions that weren’t stupid

like “how far away is your home planet?” or “did you have any friends or family?” or “what other planets have you been on?”

and you had a lot of questions too

“what is pizza and where can i get it?”

“you’ve never had pizza? oh, we have to change that” -tony

“what is it though?”

as you went on more missions, you got a better feel for how to work with teammates

especially when they had such different skillsets

“wanda, would you give me a boost?”

“with pleasure!” -wanda

“why didn’t you ask me? i could have flewn you!” -rhodey

“it just feels cooler when wanda launches me, but i’ll let you have your turn later”

“y/n, we should have coffee after this!” -thor

“WHATS THAT?!?!”

you always got excited when offered new things

*muttering* “what the fuck” -you

“OKAY, WHO THE HELL TAUGHT Y/N CURSE WORDS???” -tony

“hm. i wonder” -nat

thor brought you to asgard once

it was pretty. (pretty wild, that is)

“maybe you can take me to your planet one day!”

“i’m pretty sure i’m wanted on my home planet, but i’d love a challenge!”

okay maybe he was ur new bff

“so, y/n, how long is your species’ life span?” -bruce

“im not sure that our measurements of time are exactly translated, but i believe in your time it would be....900 years?”

“oh...may i ask how old you are now?”

“wouldn’t you like to know...”

“...n-no, thats okay”

honestly? sometimes your days were nothing but lazy, so you’d learn about human pop culture

“‘tatooine?’ odd, that’s a planet in my solar system. do you think this ‘george lucas’ is an alien?” -you, lying

*cue the entire fucking team going nuts bc they’re about to believe this conspiracy*

okay but like. you KNEW about thanos. you just never thought he’d be a problem all the way out here

so when the whole thanos situation came to earth you were just kinda like 👉👈 sorry guys, shoulda said smth earlier

“you know who thanos is?” -dr. strange

“...yes. i do. he’s big. really big. and purple. kind of looks like a raisin. oh, yeah, he’s crazy. obsessed with balance.”

“balance? what do you mean by that?” -tony

“like, he likes to kill half of each population for ‘balance,’ you know?”

anyways you went back to space

“so, anything else about thanos we should know?” -tony

“he has 2 adoptive daughters, they’re both badass, i know then personally, he’s from the planet ‘titan,’ last of his kind, aaaand he has an army”

“we have a—wait, no we don’t” -tony

“are there aliens that lay eggs in people? or is that just a stereotype?” -peter

“peter, is it? i heard that you’re taught that there are no stupid questions, but that was a very stupid question”

“...i don’t know if that was a ‘yes’ or ‘no’” -peter

tony asked if you could fly the ship. no.

eventually making your way to titan

which was surreal since it had just been so long since you’d left earth

gotg in the house

“where’s gamora?”//“who’s gamora?” “why’s gamora?”//“you know gamora?” “you know gamora?”//“do you work for thanos?”//“no, i’m here to kill thanos”//“so you’re here to kill gamora?”//“what? no! gamora doesn’t work for thanos anymore, it’s been like 4 years”//“holy shit”

and then thanos popped in and nebula too and she recognized you and it was kinda awk but were just gonna pretend it didn’t happen bc it gets worse <3

u, tony, and nebula got trapped in a ship for like 3 weeks but it was good for catching up

and u met captain marvel and honestly youve just met too many people in the past few weeks u were not vibing

“so, y/n, miss space at all?” -tony

“up until we went back to space, yeah. i’m not leaving this planet ever again”

“we need to find thanos” -bruce

“fuck”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich //

[headinthestaticsky]

Sanctuary with the Enthralling Moon: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, FINAL CHAPTER

All of the characters in Twilight DO NOT belong to me. All rights to go Stephenie Meyer.

Authors note:Sorry it took me so long to post a chapter today, I’ve been busy.

“When I think of you  I remember springtime That was when we fell in love Just me and you.”

Just Me and You, by The Dreamliners

“What? What is the Volturi?”

“It’s our version of a government love, they make sure we still concealed to the humans.” Jasper explained

“Where is it at?”

“Italy.”

“I need to go... Alice, take me there now!”

“Bella wait! Fleur what won’t you stop her?” Jacob pleaded.

“I’m sorry Jacob but, not matter how much I hate Edward’s guts right now...He can’t kill himself over guilt... especially since she isn’t even dead.”

“You’re completely useless.” He snarled at me.

“Hey if you didn’t answer the fucking phone we wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”

“How you know it was me?”

“I heard Bella screaming her head off all the way upstairs...”why didn’t you let me speak to him.” Is what she said if I remember that correctly.”

Jacob rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Bella. She was aggressive packing a bag and filling through a drawer. She pulled out a passport, she pushed past me and ran outside. We all followed her and Alice zoomed to the car starting it immediately.

“Bella he left you, he didn’t want you.”

“Yeah well, I’m not going to let him kill himself out of guilt.” Bella swung the bag in the back seat and then got in the car.

“Bella, please...stay here for Charlie, for me.” Jacob pleaded.

I couldn’t make out what she had said to him next, but whatever it was... it didn’t seem good. Jacob turned away from the car, he looked livid. Carlisle’s car revved out of the driveway, dust from the dirt was the only thing left behind. Jacob glared at me and Jasper before taking off to the woods, morphing into a wolf.

“Jazz...what in the hell am I going to say to dad?”

“You can say she found out where Edward was... and Alice offered to take her to the airport since she had come by for a visit.”

“Yeah... that works.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket, jump scaring me.

“Hello?”

“Fleur... it’s me, Rosalie.”

“Rose... hey, it’s been a while.”

“Do you know where Edward went... I told him what happened with Bella.”

“Rose... he’s going to the Volturi to kill himself... He thinks Bella’s dead.”

“Oh god...” Her voice sounded like she was in shock.

“Why did you say something to him?”

“I don’t know...honestly I don’t...”

“Bella and Alice went to Italy to try and stop him.”

“I hope they get to him...”

“I do too.”

I saw my dad pull up in the driveway, I could see confusion and heartbreak on his face.

“Listen Rose, I gotta go. Dad just got here.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later Fleur.”

“See you, bye.”

“Jasper? What’re you doing back here?”

“My family and I are moving back in a few days, but I couldn’t help but want to see Fleur again so I came back a bit earlier than everyone else.”

“Oh, that’s good to here. Does Bella know you guys came back?”

“Dad... you should come inside, we have to tell you something.”

“Oh no... what did she do now?”

“Come on dad.”

He had a reluctant look on his face when we went inside.

“So? What’s going on.”

“Alice and Jasper had come by, they told Bella and I that the rest of the family was moving back. Carlisle’s job ended up not working out so they decided to move back here. Alice had told Bella where Edward was and Alice offered to take Bella to him.”

“Where is she?”

“She wouldn’t tell... she doesn’t trust me very much still. She had a passport with her so I can only assume she went out of the country.”

“When she gets home... that boy is banned from this house. He’s put us through Hell for months!”

“I’m really sorry for my brothers actions, Chief Swan.” Jasper said his smooth voice rung through the quiet house.

“It ain’t your fault...there is only so much you can do.... god, I lose one of my closest friend and then my daughter runs off on me again.” Dad said he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“I’m really sorry dad.” I pulled him in for a hug. I had walked away to get my dad something to eat and a bottle of water. I could hear Jasper talking to my dad but, I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

The rest of the night was quite tense. Dad was pacing around the living room for the entire night. He was waiting for a call from Bella, wanting to hear her confirm that she is safe and sound. But, it never happened. Jasper had left saying he needed to check into a hotel for the night. But in actuality he spent the night in my room.

“Jazz...you said this Volturi was like your government...what if they make Bella change? What if they find out about me? I’m not ready to change Jasper...I can’t leave dad all alone.”

“We will find a way to prevent you from changing as long as possible darlin. Besides, Bella is the only one there, she shouldn’t have to mention you.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her Jazz...she’s, changed in a way she seems self absorbed at this point. I remember when James was chasing us, she seemed to relish in all of the attention it got her.”

“I thought a felt bits of that in her emotions, yours over powered her though.”

I sighed

“Gosh, I need to talk about something else... I feel so nervous I think I might get sick.” I burrowed my face in Jasper neck in hopes to calm my nerves.

“Okay...marry me.” He said, his voice was calmer than I had ever heard it before. I on the other hand, was in shock. My eyes had shot wide open and I lifted my head up from his neck.

“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice was a pitch higher than normal.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” He said, humor was laced in his voice.

“So that’s what you were talking to dad about in the living room.”

“Yeah, that was it...so...” He got up from my bed and knelt down in front of me on one knee. 

“Will you marry me?” he pulled the velvet box he in his pocket open.

“Yes... I will.” I huge smiled made it’s way onto my face. Jasper pulled me into his arms and hugged me. My feet made it’s way off the floor for a few seconds, but I was then set back down. I looked down at the ring, it fit me pretty well.

“Is that Sapphires?” I asked.

“Yeah they are... thought they would be nice, since that is your birthstone.”

“It’s yours too you know... I remember your birthday... it’s September 14th.

Timeskip: 2 days later.

When Bella had finally gotten home from finding Edward, dad let her have it. He stuck to his guns at first, saying that Edward was banned from the house and that she was not allowed to see him. But, Bella being Bella threatened moving away. Dad faltered in his threat and said that Edward could come over but, dad would have to be there and he could only stay til 9:30. Bella also couldn’t leave the house without dad being there either. And even when she was going to leave with him there, she would have to tell him and call him every hour. She even had a curfew she had to uphold to, which was at 9:30 pm as well.

I was with the Cullens this evening, Rosalie, Emse, and Alice’s eye lit up in excitement when they saw my ring. Emmett had bear hugged me when he saw me again and Dean was finally able to hug me too, without wanting to kill me. Alice was just talking to me about floral arrangements when Edward and Bella walked into the room.

“Look... you all know what I want. I think it would only be fair... if you all vote.” Bella said. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Edward snided.

“Shut...up.” Bella replied

“What’s the rush Bella?” I asked she of course, ignored me.

“Alice?” 

“Yes of course, I already consider you apart of my family.”

“I vote yes, it would be nice to not want to kill you all the time.” Dean said.

“Jasper?”

“Sure...I really don’t want to get separated from Fleur again because Edward can’t get over his hero complex.” Jasper snapped, he tensed in his place.

“Look... I’m really sorry to both of you for how i’ve acted but... this isn’t a life I would’ve chosen for myself. So I vote no.” Rosalie stated

“I say hell yeah! We can pick a fight with the Volturi some other way.” Emmett stated.

“Yes Bella, You’re already a member of this family.” Esme said

“Carlisle?”

“Why are you all doing this to me?” Edward questioned.

“You’ve chosen to live without her...I won’t live without my son.”

Bella smirked, but then I noticed she got nervous.

“I have something else to tell you.”

“What?” I asked.

“You see... when we wend to the Volturi I may have...”

“Don’t even finish that sentence...you didn’t Bella, you fucking told them about me didn’t you!?”

“Doesn’t feel so good having someone else make decisions for you does it?”

“You are more delusional than I thought!”

“Wait a second, you put her at risk too Bella?” Rosalie said... anger was rising in her voice.

“How long do you two have?” Jasper asked... he too was getting more angry.

“Til my graduation.”

“I can’t even look at you anymore Bella... you make me sick.” I snapped, I made my way outside and slammed the glass door. Jasper and Rosalie ran outside to join me.

“What am I going to do?” I said, my eyes filling with tears.

“We’ll figure something out Fleur.” Jasper said, pulling my into his arms.

“I won’t let her take that choice away from you.” Rosalie added.

I looked up at the sky, the stars and moon were out tonight.

“I’m so sorry love.” Jasper said.

END OF BOOK 2

[thatsmrfantastic]

My take on some interesting things you probably didn’t know about Reed Richards:

- In the comics Reed’s mother Evelyn died when he was seven. She was a renowned scientist and so was his father, Nathaniel Richards. After she passed from a chronic, incurable illness (that was never named) it drove his father insane and he began to research time travel. One day he simply disappeared, leaving Reed in the care of his Uncle Ted Richards for the remainder of his childhood. 

- Reed’s uncle Ted was a politician and scientist that was held in contempt of congress for telling them to go to hell when they accused him of espionage and communism. After six months in prison his career and life were over, ultimately leading to Reed’s uncle taking his own life. 

- Reed inherit his families wealth and put it entirely towards his education and funding his research. While his parents weren’t insanely wealthy like Stark’s, it did give him a good foundation to survive on. However, once he went through that he still had to approach sponsors and donors to get behind his work while going through school. 

- Right, and he later in the future finds out his dad became a time traveler, had another family and felt no remorse about leaving his son in the first place. so yeah. he definitely got #daddyissues

- In some universes his father became Kang the Conqueror so yeah. That’s a thing.

- Reed attended CalTech, Harvard, M.I.T., State University, and the University of Vienna. 

- While he was in Austria he met his first love Alyssa Moy, a brilliant scientist like him, who he proposed to later on. 

- They both became military engineers, spies and assisted with ops missions aiding SHIELD. They even had a mission where they travelled to the Himalayans and saved a young Prince named Bayan from a Warlord Mystic and General named Lao-Tse. They were literally Mr. & Mrs. Smith-ing their way through Europe, going on adventures that would make Indiana Jones jealous.

- Alyssa broke his heart though, saying she couldn’t marry him because.....she felt they owed it to civilization to share their intelligence with other people. Yes. You read that right. She literally thought it was too selfish if her and Reed got together and made super smart children. Well, her loss is Sue’s gain.

- So then Reed went to State University and re-connected with Ben, met the Storm siblings and his lab partner (and future would be archnemisis) Victor von Doom. 

- Reed and his friends all began working for NASA on making Reed’s dreams of space exploration a reality. They were so close to finishing but then the government cut their funding and their supervisor’s told them they had to shut the program down. Reed wouldn’t give up though, he was like this is my life’s work, I am 99.9999999999% sure it’s safe and fine and I’m going up there with or without you guys- but of course, naturally, they came along. 

- These guys literally stole government property and hijacked a space ship they built like those are your ride or die friends. You know you all are going to jail when you get back. jks. 

- The rest is history. Unexplained space radiation storm turns regular humans into super powerful altered genetically mutated individuals. 

- But what you probably didn’t realize was Reed’s motivations for making them a public, superhero team. Reed was scared AF they were all gonna become test subjects for some sort of bioweapon or that their government would attempt to lock them up forever. I can’t believe he had enough where withal to be like “okay we’re gonna get personal branding, we’re gonna call down every news station in the freaking state to protect ourselves. we need the public on our side and not afraid of us so that we don’t get put away” like within the first moments after the crash, he’s thinking about fun nicknames, catch phrases, things they can do so people can see how amazing each and every one of his friends are. And he wants to make them famous because their lives are changed forever. It’s his fault, he has to make it right. And I am 10000% sure this man would have gone to prison after putting up the fight of his life, to protect his friends had it gone the other way. 

- reed was a child prodigy with an aptitude for science, mathematics, physics and mechanics. he was a little awkward rockstar that frequently pissed off his teachers for being that weird kid who knew so much. he started attending CalTech at age fourteen. FOURTEEN.

[maadorii]

you’re gonna wanna be my best friend— y. itadori x gn! reader

max.note’s: this is my child, my baby and i love it. probably my favorite fic i’ve ever wrote uwu i think the ending is bit rushed but that’s i was writing this at 4am (i’m also trying out a new layout-ish so yea) 

synopsis—where you and Itadori came up with the greatest, yet stupidest idea in your lives: getting married to lower your tuition cost. what could go wrong? well, there’s getting caught by the government, and then there’s potentially falling in love with your best friend. 

warning/tags: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, characters aged up (18+), high school/college au, modern au, fluff & crack, megumi is the only one with a working brain cell 

w. count— 3.1k

“yuuji, what’re we gonna do!?” you exclaimed, pacing around the open space of said boy’s bedroom. itadori groaned loudly from his spot on his bed, tugging at the skin underneath his eyes with him. 

looking down at the bright, bold red letters of the opened email on your phone screen, you internally cried to yourself, because… fuck. this is what all the hard work all four-years of high school led up to?

25, 580 dollars worth tuition left to pay, out of pocket. 

“i don’t fucking know. ...wait, do you think megumi would have an answer?” he perked up at his own, and quite frankly, idiotic idea like an excited puppy. if you squint you can see a tail wagging behind him. turning around to look at the pink headed boy, you practically leaped across the room to slap him repeatedly upside his head. 

“ow– hey... ouch! what the fuck?!” itadori whined, lifting his arms up to shield himself way from your merciless assault. “yuuji, are you dumb? we cannot, for the love of god, ask megumi. he’ll probably tell us to apply for a loan or something.” you snapped. 

“we’ll do that then, it can’t be that hard.” 

“have you seen your credit? there’s no way we're getting approved for a loan.” you exasperated as you folded your arms across your chest, plopping yourself down next to itadori. and the both of you were left to sit in condemning silence that laid itself like a thick, winter blanket over you. itadori could’ve sworn he heard the gears turning in your head because of the stark silence. 

you suddenly gasped, jumping to your feet. it was almost like a lightbulb went off on the top of your head. itadori gaped at you as your eyes lit up like stars, turning to him, it was your ‘aha’ moment. the biggest smile he’s ever seen on your face. he couldn’t help the tinge of nervousness settle in the pit of his tummy, probably for good reason.  

“here me out– what if we got married?” 

-

you and itadori meet in the lunchroom on the first day of school your freshman year of high school.

to say you meet by pure coincidence is actually a perfect explanation to describe what really went down. you remember how you sat alone at the lunch table, scrolling through your phone on social media when all of a sudden a rather energetic boy with pink hair crashed into your table. face planted in your bowl of greek yogurt. and it was the fancy kind too. 

the cafeteria around you erupted in laughter at the... spontaneous display happening before you. and although you wanted to laugh (in all honesty, it was funny), the boy below hasn’t moved an inch. truthfully, you were worried. 

“hey, um, are you okay?” you asked, nudging the top of his head. itadori didn’t show any sign of getting up. you nudged him a little harder, shaking his shoulder. with a gurgled grunt, itadori lifted his head from the bowl and the first thing that caught your eye was the crimson colored blood smeared along the stark white of the yogurt. there was a delirious look in his eye as if he wasn’t completely there in the real world. the laughter has long since died down, only a few strangers coming up to the table to record the aftermath. 

when itadori came to, he peered up at you through his yogurt clumped eyelashes and he felt his heart tighten considerably in his chest. 

“you okay? you’re... bleeding, a lot.” you asked again, gesturing to the entirety of his face. he didn’t say anything as he wiped around his nose, seeing the blood covered dairy. he looked mortified, now catching onto the stares and cameras by nosy teenagers being shoved in his face. reacting quickly, you reached out to one his unoccupied hand, gently guiding him in the direction of the nurses office. your footsteps echoed as you walked down the empty hallway, itadori following close behind you. neither of you said anything during the trip, nor when you entered the nurse’s office. it wasn’t until you had a warm wash rag against itadori’s cheek, wiping away the food and blood mixture, that he finally said something. 

“i’m... sorry, for ruining your lunch...” you stopped in your tracks, left to ponder in your thoughts. he’s sitting here with a busted lip and a shattered dignity... and he’s apologizing for face planting in your yogurt?

“hey, you have bigger things to worry about. so, what’s your name?” you continued to wipe at his face, waiting for him to reply.

“yuuji itadori.” and you saw the slightest glimpse of a smile tugging at the corner of his rosy lips. you returned the smile, teeth showing. 

from then on, you two were joined at the hip. there wasn’t anything you didn’t do together. 

there was something about itadori that brought out the inner child in you. he was sweet, loyal and compassionate. he was a lamp to a moth– hard to resist. hard to ignore. he was your first taste of an easy going life, being able to enjoy being a kid. 

on the other hand, you were the foundation he needed. you were open minded, authentic and grounded. you were the first thing in itadori’s life that felt stable. obtainable. your ambition turned into his drive; he wanted to be by your side for as long as possible. 

you both were something– somebody, each other needed the most. it’s like what they say: the best people in your life come when you need them the most. 

-

“are you two dumb or something? now, i expect this kinda thing from yuuji, but not you.”megumi quipped, left eyebrow arched in concern as he gestured towards your direction with his pencil. nobara in a similar state next to him, working on the worksheet the teacher handed out earlier. it was currently mid-way through the school day, you, itadori, megumi and nobara sat at your assigned table in statistics. it’s been about a week since your discussion with itadori about your... rather brilliant idea. 

“well, that’s harsh.” itadori grumbled, flipping him off. megumi snorted as he returned the gesture. “okay, now listen! they’re explaining the thingy.” 

you cleared your throat, sitting up straight to try to make yourself look dignified. “when applying for financial aid, if you’re married, we’ll be considered an independent on the document. meaning? more money!” 

“okay, well that’s great and all but, you do know you’ll be responsible for each other legally? as in, medical and money expenses. what would you do if either one of you dies? ” megumi questioned. you chuckled, wrapping your arm around itadori’s neck. “i’ve been legally responsible for him since freshman year, what’ll be the difference?” 

megumi rolled his eyes, burying his head in his hands. “god, you’re both so helpless.” 

“you know what megumi? i hope both sides of your pillow are warm when you go to sleep tonight.” itadori gasped in shock, hand reaching up to grip the cotton fabric of the shirt he was wearing. nobara snickered behind her hand to which megumi prompted to shift in her direction, whispering something along the lines of “don’t encourage them!”

“(y/n)! you did not just say that!?”

“i sure as hell did. and i’ll say it again!” you snapped your fingers, jutting out your hip. “and they’ll say it again!” itadori said, copying your actions.

megumi and nobara only watched in pity as the two of you continued to embarrass yourself in the middle of the classroom, other classmates turning to catch a peak of the commotion.

“wait, i got one, i got one! ahem, i hope you pour yourself a nice, big bowl of cereal of— what do you eat? apple jacks? only for there to be no milk!” 

you sputtered out a laugh, pounding your fist on the table. itadori was loud with laughter as well, body slung over the back of the chair.

megumi sighed, picking up his pencil to erase a mistake he spotted on his paper. he watched as the eraser smudged the lead on the paper instead of actually erasing it. watching the scene unfold before you, wheezing out another laugh, and clutching on to your stomach for relief. 

“shut the fuck up, the both of you.”

-

graduation was only a month away. 

teachers were cramming review lessons left and right. completing any last minute work to turn in. senior activities, trips, prom, and getting ready for what was to be the biggest day of your life. where all your hard work and putting up with the shitty ass public school system for 13 years will finally pay off. 

at least that’s how they make it seem. 

itadori was currently sitting in megumi’s living room, sprawled out on the floor like a starfish. his political science textbook laid open next to him. he’s been unusually quiet this afternoon, megumi noted when he would glance up from his own textbook in his lap.

“hey, yuuji? something the matter?”

itadori didn’t respond right away, instead, he shifted himself closer to megumi to lay his head on the other boy's lap. caught surprised by his actions, megumi tried to shove his head off but itadori being the stubborn man he was wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“god, you’re so annoying—“

“then why are you still friends with me?” his words were quick and sharp like a kitchen knife. and megumi had to take a second to pause. “is this what this is about?” itadori still hasn’t said anything, his body curling in on itself. eventually, he shook his head no. 

“alright... then what’s wrong?” 

megumi watched as itadori twiddled with fingers, reluctant to share his feelings with the other male. you see, the thing is that although megumi and itadori have been friends since middle school, they found it hard to share each other's feelings. especially megumi. they’ve always been the “i don’t know how to talk about my feelings so let me enjoy your company for a while?” type of friends. except for that one time. 

“it’s just... i’m not so sure if i want to marry (y/n) anymore...” megumi could barely hear what itadori said, but he caught it. and color him surprised. “have you finally come to senses that it’s a stupid idea?” 

“no, it’s not that–” megumi sighed internally, “–it’s just, what if our relationship changes after it’s finalized? we planned to do it after graduation a-and– it’s just a really scary thing to think about.” itadori’s voice began to warble, and megumi could feel his body tremble as the boy beneath tried to hold in his tears. 

in all the years they’ve known each other, itadori has only cried once in front of him. and that was the night of his 16th birthday. because itadori didn’t come from the best home, and at the time, only megumi knew of such disclosed information. 

“they said it themselves, you guys have always taken care of each other. so why do you think it’ll change things?” he gently tried to coax itadori into calming down, his hand stroking the soft tufts of his hair. thumb caressing his buzzcut. itadori sniffed, and megumi can hear the disgusting sound of snot being sucked back in his nostrils, but he refrained himself from reacting. 

“b-because, i just don’t want my feelings to get in the way, ya’ know? this is simply supposed to be platonic, but it isn’t anymore. at least for me.” 

and right then and there, megumi’s suspicions were confirmed. itadori did have feelings for you. more than what a best friend should have. “your feelings? and what might these feelings be, yuuji?” 

“that i want to spend a very long time with them, by their side. but not as their best friend. something more than that.” he let out a shuddered  exhale, and the room was engulfed with silence. megumi took this time to process what itadori said, the last four words resonating in his mind. 

something more than that.

megumi shifted itadori’s body off his, moving to sit up on his own. and that’s when he saw his face for the first time; his red-brimmed eyes and how the tears clumped his willowy eyelashes together. the tremble in his lips because, damn, he’s trying so hard to hold it in. 

he didn’t have anything to say– there wasn’t much to say to begin with, but megumi wrapped his arms around itadori in a hug. he felt him relax against his body, taking in the cool scent of his sweater. 

“it’s okay to be scared, yuuji, but i believe... you’re smart enough to make the right decision.” 

 - 

standing underneath the blazing summer heat, you stood in front of the court house waiting for itadori to show up. today was supposed to be the day, where you and itadori were to be married. it’s been thirty minutes and no itadori in sight. which is unlike him considering that he is, surprisingly, very punctual. he hasn’t even responded to any of your texts or calls, which also isn’t very much like him.

but those thirty minutes turned into an hour, that soon turned into two hours. 

and to say you were angry, was a complete understatement. you were livid. and that’s how you found yourself banging on itadori’s front door, ignoring the stares of the noisy next door neighbor peeping through their window. 

“yuuji! open the fucking door! i know your ass is in there, i can see your minecraft lamp turned on from your window.” you shouted, breathing heavily through your nose. there wasn’t an immediate response, only dead silence, which prompted you to raise your fist to go another round of beating up the door until the faint sound of footsteps reached the door. opening with a creak. 

there stood the man of the hour, yuuji ita- fucking- dori.

“there you are! dude, what the hell happened? why didn’t you show up at the courthouse today? did you forget or...” you were quick to jump the gun, bombarding him with questions left and right. 

“no... i didn’t forget.” was his reply, eye downcast to look at his sock clad feet. anywhere but your face right now. 

“then what yuuji? what could’ve been so important that you decided to just forget?” you flayed your arms around like a mad man, the anger rolling off your body in waves. you knew that you weren’t necessarily being fair to him right now, you can tell by his stand-offish attitude since opening the door. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. 

itadori was reluctant to answer, his legs wobbly with the anxiety running rampant in his system. he was tempted to say sorry and be done with this, but then he remembered megumi’s words.    

...you’re smart enough to make the right decision. 

“because... because this isn’t a good idea anymore.” now you’re more confused than angry. 

“what do you mean this isn’t a good idea anymore,” you asked, placing your hand on your hip. “that's not what you said 4 months ago.” 

itadori sighed, starting to feel the twinge of annoyance in the tips of his fingers. he was starting to regret his choice of words. “i know what i said 4 months ago. but now 4 months later, i’ve changed my mind.” 

you wanted to laugh, but you couldn’t muster a bubble of it in your system. was he for real right now? 

“oh really? and why do you say that?” 

“it’ll change everything.” the reply was short. straight to the point. 

“what? no, it won’t! don’t be silly, we’ll still be best friends!” you try to muse, but itadori wasn’t budging. his face was disdained, detached from the world. the answer was sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t ready to say it. especially in front of you. 

taking in his physique, your mind started to slow. you didn’t want to go there but you couldn’t help it. it was only natural, right? 

he’s been off putting since the graduation ceremony two weeks ago. he was so bright and happy that day, shoving his diploma in megumi’s face a numerous number of times. you remember the scream he let out when your name was called to walk across the stage of the arena. how embarrassed you felt as you did so, but a twinge of giddy happiness filled your chest. because he was calling out your name. your heart always did leap with joy when his attention was on you, and only you. the way he had you wrapped around his finger, without him even knowing. it takes you back to when you two first met, how you were so captivated by his amber eyes. the sudden urge to be there. to always be there and to be more. 

so... “do you not like me anymore? is this what this is about now?” it came out a whispered, and itadori was shocked nonetheless. now what were you talking about? 

“what, no! of course i still like you!” you almost laughed at how quickly he responded.

“then why? why did you–”

“i just didn’t want to make things awkward between us! i didn’t want to ruin our friendship with my... stupid feelings.” glancing up, you can see the slightest tint of pink on the roundness of his cheeks. awkward? ruin? 

you took a step forward, your hand reaching to hold his. kindly, thumbing his knuckles with your thumb. the way he always liked it. 

“yuuji, your feelings are never stupid. i’m your best friend–” with a frustrated huff, itadori ripped his hand away from yours. 

“but that’s the thing though! best friend this and best friend that– what if i don’t want to be your best friend anymore, hm? what if–” make the right decision, “what if i want to be more than that?”

more than that?

“you want to be more than friends? is what you’re saying.” itadori can almost feel himself shit his pants. 

that giddy feeling that always erupted whenever you were around him expanded ten fold. you’ll be damned: your best friend of four and a half years, was in love with you. the smile that you struggled to fight bloomed with mirth on your face. and itadori followed suit, reaching out to hold your hand once more.

not much needed to be said, the smile on your face was enough for him to put it all together. for once, he was actually smart enough to make a decision. a good one at that. 

copyright © 2021 maadorii. all rights reserved. 

[thoughtfullyluckyperson]

But also, regarding that oneshot, I love (not really) how people are all “Light bad bad baaaaad” but then go “Minoru is much better, such a kind boy! never wrote in the notebook! got money for everyone!”

Ahem. Did people somehow miss the fact that he almost sold the notebook to Trump? What do you think would happen if the death note made its way to this or that state? And especially to the government of one of most aggressive countries? The death note which never runs out of pages and can be dissected into an endless amount of small pieces, and all of them work as the original and are more dangerous than any existing weapon? So US politicians could officially (and unofficially too) threaten or kill whoever opposing them? So pieces of it could be sold to whomever by corrupt ones too, and there would be a crowd of people who can kill without a trace? It’s, like, a beginning of full-fledged dystopia. A kind boy, indeed.

I would honestly prefer ten Lights running around with the notebooks to one Trump having it (I wouldn’t entrust even Monako’s government with it, tbh, and surely not one of USA/China/Russia/EU etc who had the most money to buy it; though Monacan world domination would be funny at least). Big states already have tremendous power as it is and keep each other in check with armies and nuclear weapons, and the death note owned by one of them would’ve tipped the balance. The best thing Light ever did with the death note was keeping it hidden and fully under his control, really. And Minoru just decided “to hell with the world, I want some money” and didn’t care about consequences. If not for deus ex machina Shinigami King being fickle, all hell would break loose.

Not only that, with his cunning plan Minoru managed to cause a hyperinflation in Japan and most likely a global economic crisis followed a bit later (since Japan’s economy is closely tied to global one), which probably messed up and indirectly killed more people (poor, disabled, elderly etc) around the world than Light did in all his Kira career. The second best thing Light did with the death note: he was smart enough not to mess with the economy. 

Imo, it’s probably what this oneshot was written for - to show how non-villainous people with the notebook can cause more damage than patented villains. Minoru is not evil, just self-serving and his plan makes more sense on a personal level (no murders! just money! he even shared them) than Light’s megalomania, and yet consequences of his two weeks of owning the death note could be more dire than Light’s six years. Light is much more dangerous as a person but he was actually safer for the world as a whole than Minoru was. It kinda makes me appreciate Light more.

[acourtofsnakes]

E’tad - Rogue, Chapter 9| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: You are going about your time in Nevarro, completely unaware of the struggle and frantic journey the Mandalorian is making. Will he get there in time?

Warnings: A bit of violence/swearing, mentions of death/blood, alcohol/drinking

AN: I’m really sorry that this chapter isn’t as gripping as the others.  I’ve been super overwhelmed lately and been struggling to get my ideas down into actual words. I’ve been working on this for way longer than the word count reflects and just wanted to get it out. You can still count on a cliffhanger ending though, of course ♥︎

Also, I’m sorry if there’s parts that aren’t canon. I definitely made up a couple of the planets and potentially bits of Nevarro. 

Not yet beta read.

Word Count: 4832

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss  @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi | 8: Haran| 9: E’tad

Mando’a translation: E'tad - seven

You’d been in Nevarro for a few days now. 

Things were going... okay? 

No. Things were going well. Really well. You felt safer here, knowing that Cara and Greef were monitoring who was coming and going and making sure they posed no threat to you. 

There were a few tense moments, times when government officials came wandering past, but you always stayed hidden out of the way. 

No one looked twice at you here – and if they did, it wasn’t for long. 

When you first walked through the town, you found Cara and Greef waiting for you just inside the gates. 

They were kind, welcoming too. Greef took your bag and welcomed you to the planet, whilst Cara smiled at you and shook your hand. You sensed that she was strong, determined and loyal to her cause and friends. She had a kindness in her eyes though, and it put you at ease.

These were Mando’s friends. He trusted them to take care of you, so that meant you’d be able to trust them too. 

They had shown you around, giving you a tour of the places that you might need, like markets and small stores, but also the places to avoid. 

When you’d had your tour, they showed you to a quaint building a short walk away from the centre of town. 

There were only 4 floors to the building, and about 2 rooms on each floor. Stopping on the third floor, they had showed you where you’d be staying. 

Cara had apologised for it being more on the minimal side, but you’d shaken your head quickly. This was more than you’d had in… years. 

There was a little kitchenette area to prepare food, a lounge space with a slightly ragged looking armchair and table. To the right of the space was a curtained off sleeping area, containing a thin, but comfy looking cot and then just off of that a washing area. There was a decent-sized metal tub, big enough for you to be able to sit in and just extend your legs comfortably. 

It might not have been grand, or spacious but it was a home. A place to come back to at the end of the day and be safe. 

The two had left you to get settled, and you couldn’t help that sharp pang in your chest. 

The Razor Crest had become a… sort of home to you over the last few weeks. It’s softly lit corridors and spaces, things crammed in everywhere but all mostly organised… the little compartment that had been your – well, the Mandalorian’s, - bed. The cockpit, where you spent most of your days either bantering with Mando or sitting in comfortable silence. 

The kitchen area… his hands on your skin..

The weight of him behind you..

You missed him. And if you were honest, it still stung. That all of that had occurred between you and he was just getting rid of you. 

No, maybe that wasn’t the right phrase. And nothing had really happened between you. Just an outpouring of tension. Besides, he was so warm, maybe he had been running a fever. 

Mando had said that it was the only way to keep you safe. 

And you knew that you were also attracting attention onto him and Grogu. 

It still didn’t stop it from hurting any less. 

~~~~~~~~~

-----7 Days Left-----

The Mandalorian made it back to his ship in record time. He didn’t waste precious minutes explaining to Peli. Just stating he had to go, thank you for the repairs and the last few days. 

Seven days. He just seven days to get back, grab you, and flee. 

Easy. He could do that easily. 

Right?

He gave her a handful of credits, promising to come back soon. 

He probably came across as rude, but he just couldn’t afford to wait. 

You would have been on Nevarro for a little over a week now. He’d been with Peli for a good few days, and the travelling here had cost him about a day and a bit. 

You were probably settled. 

Maybe even.. happy?

His instincts were always right, and they were telling him that this guy, Haran, the shadow of Hell, had meant every single word. That if he found you before Mando did, you would never return. 

Even if that happened, the Mandalorian would tear apart the galaxy to find you. There wouldn’t be a corner of space that Haran could hide that Mando wouldn’t get to. He would kill anyone who stood in his way, anyone who stopped him from reaching you. 

The force of his determination nearly took his breath away as he switched on the ship, the engines roaring to life

Moments later, he was leaving Tatooine. 

“I’m coming for you.”

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

After that initial first week of settling in, you found that things improved a great deal. 

You knew your way around almost 100%, and frequently took walks around the town. 

Cara had reassured you that you wouldn’t have to hide here, but on busier days it would be best to keep your hood up. 

Just in case. 

Despite the threat of someone slipping through their watchful eyes, you relaxed. 

You worked with Cara sometimes during the days, going along with her for her Marshal duties and keeping things in order.

Other days, you spent time with Greef. You found him to be sort of… like an uncle in attitude. He was reassuring, and you enjoyed spending time with the both of them. 

You’d even begun to help out in the local school. Karga had suggested it one day, mentioning in passing how the teaching droids might benefit with a pair of extra eyes and hands. 

After making a few helpful comments, you had somehow established yourself as a teacher of survival. Not in the sense of, ‘this is how to disarm a bounty hunter who is coming at you whilst you’re sleeping., but more in the vein of, “Here’s how to find fresh water and a place to sleep.” 

The kids loved it, especially when you staged imaginary scenarios for them and had them running about the place or creeping through ‘the undergrowth’.

It felt good. To be using these skills you’d been forced to learn for something positive, something that the kids enjoyed. 

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

-----5 Days Left-----

Of course he had to stop for fuel. 

He had forgotten to ask Peli to fill it up before he left. Mainly because they couldn’t get out there when the sandstorm had hit, and then because he had left so quickly. 

He wanted to punch himself. 

Maybe he would. It might make him feel better. 

The Mandalorian stopped at the next closest planet, barely having turned the engines off before he was climbing out of the cockpit and making his way through the ship, Grogu secured in his little bag. 

He was halfway down the ramp when he looked over his shoulder, to check that you and Duru were behind him. 

Only to stop short, because you were no longer with him. Remember?

He sighed, ignoring the wrench of his heart and he walked through the landing bay. 

A quick search revealed a man in a fuel operatives’ uniform. 

Relief flooded Mando’s senses, and he hurried over, “Excuse me, would you be able to fill my ship? I’m sorry but I’m really in a hurry.”

The man looked up, wiping his hands on his uniform and he came over to Mando. “The Crest that just landed? Sure, I can fill her up right away, sir.” 

Moments later, he had hooked up the necessary pipes and the ship was being pumped full of fuel. 

It didn’t stop him from pacing though, checking the time on the large display inside the landing bay. 

He was full of frantic energy, and he should probably stop pacing because he was going to make Grogu sick. 

The operative looked up, tilting his head a little, “Forgive me, sir, but you look awful jittery. Is something wrong?”

The Mandalorian spun on the spot, looking at the man suspiciously.

Was he working for Haran? Was this a distraction? 

Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. 

Grogu gurgled at his side, and he didn’t need to bother translating. He was being stupid; the kid was right. 

Mando sighed, curling his hands into fists and then uncurling them to try and release some tension. “Have you ever heard of the Shadow of Death?” 

The man cursed, dropping the tool he was holding. He looked around quickly, his colourful face going pale with fear, “Sir! I beg you, please do not speak that name. Even mentioning it can summon him here.”

The Mandalorian couldn’t hide the surprise form his voice, “You believe in him then?”

The worker nodded slowly, motioning Mando over. When he was close enough, the man said quietly, “I’ve seen his… work.”

A chill skittered over Mando’s bones, “You’ve seen… someone he’s killed?”

A green sheen had come over the operatives face, “Yes, sir. I’ve seen it firsthand and I still wake up screaming even today.”

The Mandalorian tilted his head, “Many people believe he’s a myth, thought up by the darkest of people to cover their tracks.”

“That creature is not a myth, sir. He came for my sister and her family. She ran, but he was waiting at the safe house for her.” The man’s eyes became hazy with memory. “I don’t know how he knew. She had told no one where she was going. Not even me. They had never uttered the location aloud, not even to each other. They wrote it down. Just in case he was in the walls, listening.” The man swallowed roughly once, twice.

“When we got there, there was nothing left to bury. Just clothes, a few strands of hair and blood coating the walls. It was like something from a nightmare. There were only a few… chunks left of them. They could never identify who was who.” He heaved a little, then turned grave eyes onto the Mandalorian.

“If you know someone he wants, you’d be best of killing them yourselves. It would be a lot kinder.”

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

-----2 Days Left-----

The Mandalorian was getting frantic. 

And with his frantic haste, came messiness. 

He didn’t know it was taking him so damn long to get to Nevarro. He should have been there three days ago. Hell, he should never have left you there. 

There had been a nebula on the way out of the planet. It hadn’t come up on his radar until the last moment and he had to swerve to get around it, which cost him a detour he couldn’t afford. He couldn’t risk jumping into hyperspeed until he was clear either. 

Though it had taken too long, he eventually cleared it. 

He was close, so close. He’d been about to make the jump when two X-wing’s had come out of nowhere and started to chase him down. He’d tried to get them away, tried to shake them off but they’d forced him down into some icy planet. 

He’d nearly crashed the ship, nearly lost Grogu because the little womp rat decided to climb out of his seat as Mando tried to land and then the engines had cut out because they got too cold. 

And now he was cold. Fucking freezing in fact. 

Tracking through the snow and the ice, looking for the two pilots to get rid of them so he could be back on his way to finding you. 

With each movement of the sun, he became more and more painfully aware of how slow he was. 

He was never this slow. Never this sloppy. He needed to calm down and clear his head, but the words of the fuel operative kept ringing in his head. 

“That creature is not a myth, sir. He came for my sister and her family. She ran, but he was waiting at the safe house for her. 

When we got there, there was nothing left to bury. Just clothes, a few strands of hair and blood coating the walls. 

If you know someone he wants, you’d be best of killing them yourselves. It would be a lot kinder.”

He gritted his teeth as a shudder shook his body, and not from the cold. 

You wouldn’t end up like that. 

He’d find you. You would be fine. 

Noise broke through his thoughts, the sounds of the pilots and he slipped behind a snowpile and sunk down to wait. 

~~~~~~~~~

Okay. So maybe the last few days weren’t going as well as they could have been. 

You were embarrassed to admit it, but at least two of them were spent drunk, and the third was spent in a state of hungover blurriness. 

Pinpointing the exact trigger was hard. 

It might have been the horrific nightmares that begun 4 days ago, or it might have been the conversation you had with Cara that day. 

You’d been sitting in the cantina, just talking after a day of work and she had begun to ask about your past. Nothing invasive, nothing forcing you to answer but something in you had wanted to spill some of the burden. 

She’d asked you where you learned your survival skills, and you thought about lying but… something stopped you. So, you’d told her. At least, as much as you could without revealing the real reason. 

You told her about the murder of your parents. How the market had been attacked that day, and you could do nothing to stop them dying. 

You told her how you’d run, spending two days hiding in a waste dump, crying and vomiting with fear and the horror of what you’d seen. How you’d dragged yourself out, and started your journey of planet hopping and hitching rides. 

Cara had asked what you did to get people coming after you, and you simply told her they thought you’d been responsible for the market attack, and the murders of the friends you’d made because people always seemed to die around you. 

You told her how it had forced you to not be able to trust anyone, to only be able to rely on yourself and how you had to learn to survive. 

It hadn’t been easy. You had made yourself sick countless times, including one really bad week where you ate some questionable vegetables and spent four days in a hallucinating stupor, convinced you were dying. 

She’d laughed at that and returned the favour by telling you about her shock trooper days. The fact they were dumped in on their own to hunt the warlords, being exposed to horrors that only you and few others could understand. 

The pair of you had spent the evening sharing stories, dancing around the subject of a certain beskar-clad hunter and his child. You couldn’t go there, couldn’t talk about it. 

She probably gathered all the information she needed from your lack of response though, by the look in her eye and the smirk when she mentioned him. 

That night might have been the cause of the horrific nightmare where you were convinced you’d just watched the Mandalorian and Grogu be torn to shreds by your own power. You’d woken up screaming, tasting their blood like that night and barely made it to the small bathroom area before vomiting. 

That was the last night you’d remembered before getting drunk. 

You supposed you were ashamed of yourself. 

You were giving in to feelings you’d spent years repressing.

You were wallowing. 

You’re hurting. You’re allowed to let go of the pain sometimes, to feel it. You can’t keep going like the ice queen all the time.  

How you hated that inner voice of reason. 

~~~~~~~~~

-----1 Day left-----

His gloves were soaked with melted snow, sticking to his skin and freezing again instantly, no matter how many times he tried to warm them. It made his movements slow and fumbly as he desperately worked to fix the engine of his ship. 

He’d tried to take off as soon as he’d gotten rid of the pilots, but as soon as he’d started the engines, they died with no more than a puff of smoke. 

They were frozen. 

Snow and ice had gotten into the rotors and they wouldn’t start long enough for him to heat them up. 

He was stuck here. 

Grogu was freezing. 

Mando had left him inside the cockpit with the doors shut, bundled in all the blankets he could find in the ship. The heaters weren’t working, and the backup generator barely provided enough heat to stop the windows from icing over. 

He made a frustrated noise as he dropped his tools, stooping down to scoop them out of the snow. 

He had to get this working. He had to fix this and get to you. 

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, you rose, dressed and returned to work. 

You apologised for your previous behaviour and threw yourself into your daily tasks with a determination that might have been bordering on insanity. 

You were eager to wipe away the shame of the past few days, so you spent the day doing every single job you could find and more. Even going out into the town on your lunch break to help around the markets and local small stores. 

It kept the thoughts at bay, the guilt and the shame, and also the relentless longing that plagued you. 

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

-----12 hours left-----

The sun had set long ago. 

He was working by the small light on his helmet now. 

It was barely enough to see in front of his face, but he couldn’t stop. Even though he couldn’t feel his feet, or his hands. Or any of his body, actually.

He couldn’t let you die. 

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

It was the end of the day. 

You had just finished your work, helping Cara with maintaining things around town, dealing with the odd shady traveller that passed through looking for trouble. 

She knew your skills, that you were ruthless, quick and knew your way around a blade well enough to scare someone off. 

It was why you had started training with her a few days ago, before the drunken haze. 

You’d showed up to her office after a night of screaming dreams, shattered, wound up and tense. 

She’d taken one look at you, then taken you out the back to a big empty plot and begun to train with you. And it had worked. Sparring with someone and having to focus had helped you channel that anxious energy. 

It was a regular occurrence now, which was why you were engaged in another session with her. 

Greef had come to watch this afternoon, and sat on one of the huge, jagged hunks of rock that littered the volcanic planet. 

It didn’t put you off, you were too focused as you ducked under Cara’s punch, twirling around her body and delivering a sharp kick to her kidneys that had her coughing. You couldn’t help the chuckle, lightly springing back a few steps as she spun to face you, “Oh come on, you practically invited me to kick you.”

Cara rolled her eyes, advancing toward you, “And you were foolish enough to take it.” She flew into another attack on you, which you matched punch for punch, like you knew the moves she was going to take without her saying. 

You wondered if it had something to do with your power, some instinct from it. You still felt its presence more often than not lately, since that night it had helped you save the Mandalorian. You’d tried to push it back, but it was calling to you more and more recently. 

Shaking the thoughts free of your head, you focused back on fighting, pouring everything into it and letting go of all that nervous energy. 

You practically floated across the ashy ground, moving around her like you were breathing. 

It wasn’t quite the choreographed, effortless fighting you and Mando had engaged in, but it was still something. 

Dimly, you heard Greef laugh, clapping. “I never quite knew what Mando meant when he told us you fought like you were dancing, but I completely understand now.”

You froze, just managing to lift a hand and block Cara’s swing to your face, “What? He said that?” You looked over your shoulder, eyebrows raised in shock.

Karga nodded quickly, “Oh, yes! When he was telling us about the first time you met, and when you saved his life. He said he’d met more fighters in his life than he could remember, but you stood out most of all. ‘She fights like she’s dancing. Like she’s moving to a song of death only she can hear. It was mesmerising’ That’s what he told us.”

Mesmerising.

He’d really said that about you? Complimented you like that to his friends when you weren’t around?

It made your heart constrict and a sort of warm feeling spread through your veins. 

Unfortunately, it also made you distracted. 

Which gave Cara the opportunity to slam her knee into your back and knock you to the ground. “Stop getting doe-eyed over the Mandalorian and focus.” She was laughing, standing over you. 

Your cheeks flushed slightly but you snarled, flipping on your back and pulling out her ankles. “I don’t get doe-eyed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

-----2 hours left---

The Mandalorian had never been this cold. 

He was still outside, and a snowstorm had begun now. 

His poor visibility was even worse, and it seemed to take him twice as long to do anything. 

It was like the commands he sent from his brain to his hands were slogging through the thick snow. 

His armour had long since frozen over, and every time he moved, ice cracked and fell from the crevice’s. 

He didn’t know how long he could do this for. 

He didn’t know if Grogu was still alive. 

He didn’t know if you were still alive. 

Haran may have gone back on his words and come after you anyway. You might have been dead for days already. 

No. 

No, he couldn’t let himself think that. 

He had to keep going. He had to… 

He had to rest…

He was cold. So very cold that he almost felt warm. 

A mournful cry of wind shot through him, sucking the little energy from his body in a sub-zero blast and his knees gave out, dumping him in the snow. 

Get up. 

He couldn’t. 

~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

“Good fighting today. You were a lot more focused. Well, mostly.” Cara leaned against the doorway to your building, crossing her arms and grinning again. 

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks so much. The bruise I have on my back will forever remind me of your compliments.” 

She laughed, raising an eyebrow, “And the pain in my kidney’s will remind of yours.” She tilted her head, watching you, “Why did it throw you so much?”

You pretended not to know what she was talking about, “Me kicking you in the kidneys?”

Cara gave you a deadpan look, knowing what you were doing, “No. What Greef said about Mando. You looked shocked.”

You swallowed, looking down and pretending to examine your boots and you pulled out an easy shrug, “I just didn’t expect a compliment like that from him. The first time we fought, we were both trying to kill each other, and the second time he saw me, he was half-unconscious. I didn’t think he remembered.”

Whether she saw through your lie or not, she thankfully didn’t press it. “Well… He can shock you sometimes, trust me.” She stood up straight, pushing away from the wall “I’ll see you later for dinner?”

Relief flooded through you and you nodded, able to meet her gaze now, “Sure, dinner sounds great. I’ll come by after a drink.”

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

-----0 Hours Left-----

He was too late.

~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

You were still thinking about what Greef said as you made your way into the cantina, Duru asleep back in your room.  

It had become a popular haunt for you whilst being here. You wondered if you might be starting to have a problem. 

But the chatter of the different people and creatures provided an ambiance that kept the wandering thoughts at bay. 

When you were alone and still, you had a habit of straying to the Mandalorian and Grogu. 

His last words kept echoing in your head, that you might see each other soon. 

When, Lori? Soon isn’t close enough.

You sighed to yourself as you slid onto a seat at the bar. You seriously needed to have an intervention with yourself. You didn’t pine like this. You didn’t get soft and sentimental. 

You couldn’t afford to, not the way you lived. 

But we aren’t on the run anymore. At least not like we used to be…

You ignored that voice in your head, the one that threatened to speak sense. Luckily, the droid that was serving as the bartender came over, placing your usual drink in front of you. 

You nodded in thanks, pulling it toward you. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that the droid knew your drink without asking. 

Then again… it was a droid. It was probably built into its hardware. It didn’t mean that you were an alcoholic. Although, your drunken stupor went against that argument. 

You brushed your hand over the bar in front of you, getting rid of the layer of volcanic ash that settled over everything. Every night you found it in your hair, under your clothes and even in your boots. It didn’t bother you much though. Over the years, you’d become used to it, being covered in dirt or grime. 

Except when you were on the Crest. 

You shook your head slightly at yourself. You weren’t going to go there. 

You could do what you wanted to on the Crest. You didn’t have to be covered in dirt or ash or mud. You were clean. Rested. Warm. 

Do not go there. 

You had company. Friends, even. 

You blew out a breath, taking a big gulp of your drink. It didn’t matter now anyway. You were here. You didn’t know how long you were to stay for, but this was your new… home. 

But it doesn’t feel like home. It’s not cosy. It doesn’t smell the same. You can’t hear the sounds of the engine, or Grogu or Mando. 

Maker, you had to find a way to shut that voice up. Maybe you’d knocked something lose back when you fought the guy with a tail. Things hadn’t been right in your head since then. 

Since you saved the Mandalorian’s life?

“Shut up!!” You didn’t realise you’d hissed the words out loud until a nearby trader gave you a funny look. 

Brilliant, now you looked drunk or possibly crazy. 

You dropped your head into your hands, rubbing your eyes. You needed to get over yourself.

And the Mandalorian. 

When you lifted your glass back to your lips, you noticed that your drink was already done. 

Whoops. Definitely looking more drunk than crazy now.

You looked up, raising your hand for another drink regardless and when the droid placed it in front of you, you slid over the required credits. 

Only for it to push them back, “Your drinks have already been paid for, miss.” 

You blinked in confusion at its monotone voice, “By who? I asked Cara and Greef not to touch my tab.” You had wanted to pay for it yourself. They refused to take any money in payment for you room, so you had managed to negotiate any expenses you racked up elsewhere – such as here. 

The droid looked at you with its expressionless robotic face, “They were not paid for by Marshal Dune or Greef Karga. Please, take the credits.”

You reached out, slowly dragging them back and putting them back inside the inside pocket of your cloak, “Who paid for it then?” You couldn’t help the insistent tone to your voice, even if it would be lost on the droid. 

Before it could answer, your question was answered. 

“I did.” 

The voice that came from behind you was silken, rising over the din background noise of the cantina. It caressed over your bones, those two simple words dripping like honey. Something tugged inside of you, pulled at that buried kernel of power. 

You turned on your stool, looking for the owner of such a magnetic voice. 

There, behind you, sat a figure. 

Decked in an expensive looking cloak lined with golden thread, lounging back in his seat like he didn’t have a care in the world. You could see the edge of a hilt peeping above broad shoulders, something drawing you to look at it but you couldn’t see it properly. 

You blinked again, raising an eyebrow, “Sorry?”

The figure leant forward, “I paid for your drinks.” He lifted a pair of gloved hands and pushed back his hood. 

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