#literally if you don’t remember or don’t care it is fine but it’s been itching my brain for the past few days

[canisonicscrewyou]

this comes with a heavy hand of “IF YOU EVEN REMEMBER” because this blog has existed since 2012 with many URLs but it’s one of those things I’m always incredibly curious about. because I can see people on my dash/in my notes and usually remember the original reason I followed, if I’ve been following for long (or short) enough. but that’s because my brain can’t not form associations for everything and everyone I know.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Scared Half to Death | Bucky Barnes x reader

Hi! I haven't posted a fic in forever. School has been a nightmare.

I literally wrote this in under an hour lol it's very short and not my best. But I just wanted to get something kinda Halloween-y out there in time to celebrate!

🎃👻🎃👻🎃Happy Halloween! 👻🎃👻🎃👻

Warnings: blood, Bucky's anxiety, injury

Bucky pulled his hand from the doorknob with a disgusted expression. A thick, sticky substance coated his palm and dotted his fingers. He rolled his eyes at whichever small child had covered his door handle in candy residue while he was gone. But just as he tried to wipe the syrupy remnants on his jeans, the color caught his eye. The flash of red sent shockwaves through his system. 

He’d stepped away from the apartment for just a few minutes, only long enough to replenish his candy supply for the next wave of trick-or-treaters. But in the short time that he was gone, something terrible- something violent- must’ve taken place. 

He dropped the candy to the floor and struggled to yank his keys from the lock, his hands shaking with anxiety. And when he finally burst through the door of the apartment he shared with you, he only found more carnage. 

Droplets of blood dotted the floor. They coagulated against the tile and wormed their way into the grout, staining it red. Bucky’s stomach turned. A leaden knot formed in his gut and weighed him down like an anchor. Where were you? Was this your blood? Were you hurt- were you dead?

He followed the gruesome path like a trail of breadcrumbs, fearing what he’d find at their end.  Only a few hours ago, everything was perfect. He’d sat with you as you got dressed for your best friend’s Halloween party. He rested on the bed you shared and delighted in watching you dance around the room as you did your make up and put on your costume. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” you asked as you shimmied into your costume.

“I’m sure, baby. It’s not really my thing,” he shrugged. “You know how I am with big crowds. Plus, Halloween is a little weird for me. People dress as my friends-” He swallowed hard, “people dress as a version of me that I try not to think about… it’s just not for me.”

“Yeah…” 

Silence filled the room. Guilt coursed through your body with each beat of your heart. Part of you itched to change out of your costume and forget the whole thing.

“You know, I don’t have to go-”

Bucky stood from the bed and made his way to your side, “Yes, you do.”

A stern expression crossed your face, “I really don’t. And I shouldn’t ditch you for a stupid party-” 

“You’re not ditching me,” he said. “You love this party! You look forward to Kelly’s-” he paused, struggling to remember the name of the shindig. “What does she call it again? Her Creep-Tastic?”

You laughed, “Spook-tacular!”

“Right!” Bucky rolled his eyes at his attempt. “You look forward to her Spook-Tacular every year! And I’m not gonna let you miss it just because I don’t wanna go.” He took your face in his hands, careful not to mess up your make up. Never had anyone made him felt so loved, so cared for. You put him first at every turn, prioritizing his wellbeing and his mental health above all else. You sacrificed so much for him in the early stages of your relationship; the last thing he wanted was for you to miss out on the party you’d looked forward to for the last eleven months. 

“Seriously, doll, I’m gonna be fine. I’ll hand out candy to the kids and watch some tv,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

It wasn’t a trick or a test; Bucky didn’t secretly hope you’d choose him instead of the party. He only wanted you to be happy. And you knew he meant every word he said. 

“Okay. Then tell me…” you did a quick spin, “how do I look?”

Bucky eyed you up and down, drinking in the neon pink and highlighter yellow leotard. The electric yellow kneepads. The pink visor. The bright yellow high-top sneakers. 

“You look amazing, Barbie. You belong in the Dream House!”

Not soon after that, you left. He’d walked you to your Uber and made you promise to be safe. He’d told you that he loved you. And that was the last time he saw you.

Until now. 

The trail of blood ended with you. Bucky discovered you sprawled on your back on the living room rug, your body soaked with blood. Smears of red coated your neck and stained your arms. Your clothes were saturated with gore. This Barbie didn’t belong in the Dream House; she belonged in a nightmare. 

“Oh, god-” Bucky made his way to your side and sunk to his knees, breathless. “Baby, hey- can you hear me? Open your eyes, look at me-” His fingers traced your neck in search of a pulse, desperately scrounging for even a flutter of life. 

And there it was- your pulse. You were still alive; your heart still managed to beat despite the blood loss. 

But Bucky’s gratitude only lasted a moment. He still had to find your wound and stop the bleeding. He had to call 911. He had to keep your heart beating. 

His hands scrounged across your abdomen in search of a stab wound or evidence of a gunshot. But just as he reached for your side, you made a sound.

Did he heard that right? Did you… giggle?

“Whaaaaaaat’re you doin’, Barnes?” you laughed. “Don’t tickle meeeee!” 

Bucky’s gaze shot from your blood-soaked clothes to your face. “Baby?”

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Barbie!” you slurred, your face plastered with a smile. “Oh, nooooo- wait, you’re just Ken!” A fit of laughter exploded from your chest as you sang, “I’mmm juuuuust KEN! Anywhere elssssse, I’d beeee a TEN-” A sudden contemplative look banished your lighthearted spirit. “But you reeeeally are a ten, Buck… and I mean that.”

Bucky remained frozen. He was lost, confused. Were you woozy from blood loss? Or alcohol? Were you even hurt? Did you need an ambulance or a cold shower? 

“Baby, are you hurt? Are you okay?” He took your face in his hands, “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Because this Barbie hugged her friend!” 

A befuddled expression took over Bucky's face. "What?"

The room spun as you struggled to sit up. Bucky’s heart leapt into his throat; if you were hurt, you needed to lie down. You needed to stop moving and let him dress your wound. But you moved without wincing, without crying out in pain. Sure, you swayed from side to side just a little in your intoxicated state. But that was the worst of it. 

“I huuuuuugged Kelly! But Kelly was aaactually Carrie! Y’know, the girl covered in pig’s blood,” you laughed. “It kiiiinda ruined my costume a little. Buut, now I look like Scary Barbie! So s’okay.”

A deep sigh of relief filled Bucky’s lungs. He rocked back off of his knees and plopped down onto his butt. His bloody hands covered his face. “Then what are you doing on the floor, sweetheart?”

“Sometiiiiimes… sometimes ya just gotta lay on the floor. Y’know?” You shrugged, “And I didn’t wanna get allllll the blood on the couch.”

He nodded.

"I guess I fell asleep for a hot sec," you shrugged. "I was just waiting on ya to get home."

Bucky did his best to regulate his breathing, to calm the aggressive tsunami of anxiety that drowned his every cell. His entire world came crashing down the moment he found you on the floor, and now, he had to put it back together. 

“You okay, Buck? I came home early cause I missed yooou- I missed you sooooo much,” you placed a bloodied hand on his face. “But I didn’t mean to ruin your night to yourself. I’m sorry…”

“No, you didn’t ruin anything. It’s not that at all. It’s- baby, I thought…” he shook his head. “I thought you were hurt. I thought you were…” He didn’t want to finish his sentence. 

“Ohhhhh no, I’m fine! I’m okay! I’m druuuunk…” you laughed, “But I’m okay!”

Bucky pulled you close, grateful that the blood clinging to your skin came out of a bottle. "I know that now, I'm just..." he took a deep breath. "It's just gonna take a minute for my body to catch up with my brain." He let his hand roam up and down your spine. He needed to feel you breathe, feel your voice vibrate against his palm. Seeing you like that- bloody and unresponsive- on the floor of the home you shared nearly scared him to death.

This wasn't the kind of Halloween scare that flooded your system with pins and needles and left you laughing. No, this stripped him of all breath, of all ability to think. It cut him to the bone.

He never wanted to imagine you getting hurt, about you getting killed. For him, losing your was a fate worse than death.

The two of you sat there together in the quiet calm as Bucky remembered how to breathe. He held onto you as tightly as he could without leaving bruises, and didn't care than you'd stained his white shirt with your gory mess.

“I’m glad you’re home, doll. And that you’re okay," he said after his heart returned to its normal pacing. "I just- I didn’t expect Bloody Barbie.”

You shrugged, “no one ever does.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh that echoed off the walls and made your heart flutter. “Alright, we need to clean you up and get you to bed, baby. I think we’ve both had enough Halloween shenanigans for the year.”

You allowed him to help you to your feet and guide you to the bathroom for a much needed shower. He was always there for you when you needed him, even without you asking. You knew he'd protect you, do anything for you- he'd even scrub fake blood from your nail beds.

"Buck?" you whispered as he helped you into bed.

"Yeah, baby?"

"You're soooo much better than Ken."

He knew it was a genuine, drunken compliment, but it nearly made him burst out laughing. "Thank you, doll. Yeah, I prefer Allan anyway."

"Saaaaaaame," you sighed, melting into your pillow.

Bucky tucked the covers around you and made sure your water was within reach. He placed a kiss to your forehead, once again thanking his lucky stars that you were home safe.

"Goodnight, Barbie."

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

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather  @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

[wickjump]

I’m giving you a free card to rant about any character if you want to

I just like listening to people rant about characters or things they enjoy tbh, I find it interesting what they have to say

ok.. not a character but a ship because right now i have really bad brainrot for crepic, ive already done an essay long ramble about cross, and my essay long ramble about epic is in the works, so let’s go!!!!!!!!!

okay i genuinely really love them. more than most ships. hell i love their dynamic regardless of what it is—romantic, platonic, whatever. they’re something i genuinely care about a lot!!!!! they mean da world 2 me… do not be mean to them around me!!

(this is going off of cross’ canon and not epic’s, since they don’t overlap! epic is canon to cross, cross is not canon to epic. kind of an ink and dream situation)

i love the fact they’re so close. they’re besties. best buds. best friends. besties. a lot of characters have the ‘dating close’ but not ‘friends close’ aspect in their ships/dynamics (ie cream) but not crepic! they have both!!! they’re not friends to lovers they’re best friends and lovers. and it’s unique to them in a way, you can’t name two characters who are canonically best buds like they are. and it’s GREAT. they play video games and eat cookies and make no homo jokes three years into their relationship. and i really love that for them. the idea of a romantic relationship following this just feels that much more natural compared to other characters. oh god im tired soryr anyway

i also love the angst. ive been thinking about this for ages. cross doesn’t remember epic. epic remembers cross. it hurts especially if you like to think they were also dating prior to this. imagine waiting years to see your lover again only for them to just.. not remember you. at all. and obviously you don’t tell them you were dating because then there would be that weird “so should i date you again? is that what im supposed to do now?” pressure that you don’t want, you’ll bring it up later on when you’re more comfortable with each other again, but lo and behold he likes you again and you can’t help but tear up even though you’re not a genuinely emotive person because it’s so similar to how it was the first time and you missed this.

epic has reflexes. sometimes he itches to give cross a quick peck on the cheek because he’s used to that but they’re not dating obviously so he can’t. when they start dating again though he absolutely capitalizes on it. sometimes he wants to call cross a generally romantic nickname but doesn’t. bruh is fine anyway. he used it all the time back then too. no need for other names anymore.

sometimes cross acts like he used to and epic feels a pang of sadness and nostalgia. there’s something so sad about memory loss. it’s like you lost a lover but they’re still there. they just don’t remember you. you’re stuck alone with the memories that you both once shared. and it’s kind of miserable. they’re so “sometimes i wonder if she sees me through your eyes. what would she think of me now?” “well. i think you’re pretty great.” pls understand

i like to headcanon that cross didn’t age as much as epic either due to the nature of his au and xgaster and the overwrites. so cross looks exactly the same as the day epic lost him (httyd,,,, save me) and beh they’re cute. so cutie actually. cutie pies!!!!

they r so affectionate physically cause i said so. they cuddle on the couch and play video games but if anyone asks epic says no homo and cross nods even though his face is literally buried in epic’s neck. yeah uh huh. so straight of you guys. yep. cross gets embarrassed in public about it becasue that’s literally canon he’s so stupid I hate him so much I hope he dies /affectionate. in private though cross is all over that shit. daddy issues amiright

they’re so stupid too. people don’t know if they’re dating or friends because they’re just like that. cross, normally the most uptight pissy prick out there, seems to only unwind when epic’s around and he drags cross to do something fun or stupid (often both). cross just seems happiest. and epic, normally full of “yeah lmao i am so unbothered and chill and not harboring dark secrets and withering sanity as well as living off of 0 sleep total”, seems the most relaxed around cross. i like that.

also their dads hate each other and it’s hilarious. they also probably hate each others dads too given how they each abused them like what!!! stop abusing ur kids guys…! but xgaster and epic!gaster would be in-laws and that’s super funny to me. imagine hearing that. the son of the guy you hate most married your son (who you also beat as a kid). wtf

i love the idea that epic, after ages, opened up to past cross about his issues and now all that is gone. the comfort and understanding is gone. and epic misses it but he doesn’t know if he can open up like that again. god

they’re so bittersweet. but they’re also soulmates 2 me. cross found epic again in another life,, how great is that. memory loss cannot keep them apart!!!!! they are so close. in a do not separate box. they’re like color and killer or error and ink to me. in a little ‘these guys MUST be kept together’ kennel. bonded pairs.

hfhrhfjhhh. they love each other a lot but they’re really unserious about it. everyone is done with how obnoxious they get when they’re with each other. epic puts up with cross’ temper tantrums (love you but you got issues cross) and cross is the only one that seems to find the rubber chicken jokes funny a millionth time in a row even though by now they’re to everyone’s chagrin.

they’re so cool. and lovely. i think they should be boyfriends forever and ever and never die so they can always be in love. they mean a lot to me they’re like if me and my childhood bestie worked out

I LOVE CREPIC!!!! Thank u for the ask i used this as an excuse to rant about them. needed to get this out of my system. this isn’t even all I could talk about in terms of them it’s just. so long already

OK BAIII!!!

[starryevermore]

Ooo I have a request - Layla confessing her feelings to reader and being uncharacteristically nervous about it?

something’s up ✧ layla el-faouly

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Ooo I have a request - Layla confessing her feelings to reader and being uncharacteristically nervous about it? - anon

pairing: layla el-faouly x fem!reader

word count: 775

warnings?: layla being nervous, reader being anxious, fluff, not proofread

“Something’s up with Layla,” you said, peering out the window as Layla left to go pick up some food for the three of you. 

Marc raised a brow at you. “She seemed fine to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a guy, or whatever stereotypical shit people say when a guy doesn’t pick up on emotional cues,” you said. You shook your head and stepped away from the window. “No, there’s something up. She could barely even look at me during the mission. Do you think I did something to offend her?”

Marc started to shake his head when he paused, his eyes widening. 

Panic rose in your chest. “What? Did I do something wrong? Don’t just look at me like that!”

“Um, I have to go—” Marc headed for the door, his hand on the handle. “I, uh, just remembered I wanted to get some beer and, uh, I don’t wanna bother Layla to get it, so, uh, I need to—”

He was out the door before you could even stop him. What the fuck was that? Had you majorly screwed up and now everyone was itching to get the hell away from you? God, why couldn’t anyone just tell you what was going on? 

You let out an exasperated sigh before collapsing face first onto the shitty motel bed. Where had everything gone wrong? Things had been working so well before. You, Layla, and Marc made an amazing team. Or, at least, you and Layla made an amazing team. Marc had a tendency to go off on his own, try to shield you and Layla from the more dangerous parts of missions. He had gotten better about it, but, still, old habits die hard, you supposed. 

It hurt to think that you had done something to upset Layla. You had grown to care for her. How could you not? She was kind, passionate, so incredibly smart. And was it a crime to notice how beautiful she was? To imagine what it would feel like if she kissed you? To think about what it would be like when she touched you? 

Shit. Was that the problem? Had you been so obvious with your feelings? Had you freaked her out? Ugh. That’s it. You’ll have to talk to Layla as soon as she gets back with the food. You didn’t want to ruin this. You didn’t want to lose her friendship over a silly crush. 

You raised your head as the door opened. Layla came in, placing the bags of McDonald’s on the wonky desk. She looked around, her curls bouncing. Fuck. Did she have to be so beautiful? How was this fair? 

“Where’d Marc go?” she asked. 

“Couldn’t get away from me fast enough,” you muttered. “Wasn’t the only one.”

Her brows pinched together. “What do you mean?”

You sat up fully, staring at Layla. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I never meant to do that. That’s literally the last thing I’ve ever wanted. I just think you’re…wonderful. I didn’t mean to develop a crush on you. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But, I did, and I’m sorry. I’ll try to put my feelings behind me and we can start anew—”

“Don’t do that,” Layla said quickly. She sat down next to you. You glanced at her hands, noticing how they shook. Was she okay? Was something else wrong? “I-I don’t want you to put your feelings aside. Fuck, that’s the last thing I want.”

“I don’t understand.”

Layla stared down at her lap. She picked at her cuticles. “This is what I get for taking relationship advice from Marc. He told me to act natural, act casual, then ask you out. Apparently, when I try to act natural around you, I end up acting more like cheesy Disney Channel actors trying to sneak around.”

Your heart thumped. “You…were going to ask me out?”

“I still want to,” she said. “D-Do you want to ditch the greasy meal I brought, and go to a real restaurant or something?”

Your mouth quirked up into a smile. “That would be nice. I saw this nice little Italian place just around the block? If that’s alright?”

“Sounds perfect.” 

Layla reached out her hand, then paused and slowly started to pull away. You were quick to take her hand, interlacing your fingers with hers. Layla beamed, her eyes crinkling out at the corners. Hand in hand, the two of you left the motel, ready to walk to the restaurant when you ran into a familiar face. 

“See!” Marc said. “I told you to just listen to me!”

“…thanks for the advice,” Layla said. 

[maria021015]

Zaida stared down at the text message thread on the lit-up screen of the phone in her hands, her fingers flying over the keyboard to respond.

To Artemis: Where have you been all night? Scott said he sent Isaac to find you ages ago!

Artemis: I was asleep. My phone was shut off.

To Artemis: You NEVER turn your phone off. Rookie move.

Artemis: I didn’t this time either. But some unknown number called me literally a thousand, nine hundred, forty-three times and left the exact same voicemail every time in Japanese. What are the chances Lydia got bored with archaic Latin and took up Japanese?

To Artemis: Lydia doesn’t know Japanese, but Mr Yukimura does.

The sound of a door creaking open had Zaida shooting up from her chair as Noah Stilinski quietly exited the hospital room Stiles was in. Scott and Lydia were close behind her as she put her phone away and crossed the hall to where Raphael and Melissa were already standing.

“How is he?” Zaida blurted, eager to hear what was going on. As soon as Melissa had texted Scott that Stiles had been found and that they were taking him to the hospital, they rushed to meet the boy there. Waiting for the doctors to finish examining him had been hell, and Zaida was itching just to simply lay her eyes on Stiles herself. It had been a rough few days. After Stiles had been discharged from the hospital the first time, he hadn’t been going to school. In the afternoons she would stop by to check on him and play video games or watch movies - doing anything to keep both of their minds off everything else happening. Him going missing was completely out of the blue.

“He's sleeping now...And he's just fine. He doesn't remember much. It's a bit like a dream to him.” The man answered her, turning to Agent McCall, whose bandages were peeking out of the collar of his uniform. Zaida thought he’d gotten back into the field rather quickly after the attack the other night. “Thank you.”

“It was that repellent we sprayed in the coyote den to keep other animals out. I couldn't go near it without my eyes watering. It's just a good thing he mentioned it over the phone.” Raphael explained how he’d discovered to look for Stiles in Malia’s old coyote den in the Preserve. As it had turned out, the entire time Stiles had been on the phone with Scott, he'd been asleep, leading them to believe he'd been in an environment entirely different from where he actually was.

“No, it was more than that. Thank you.” Noah repeated gratefully, setting aside the fact that the man was still trying to move forward with an impeachment.

“It was a lucky connection.” Raphael insisted, and it was the first time Zaida had seen him act humbly.

“McCall, can you shut up please and accept my sincerest gratitude?” The Sheriff huffed gruffly and Scott’s father smiled in amusement.

“Accepted,” He nodded at the man.

“All right, you three. You've got school in less than six hours.” Melissa shifted her attention to the teens. “Go home. Go to sleep.”

“Okay,” Scott didn’t even attempt to argue, and Lydia went with him with a forlorn expression, still feeling guilty about how she had gotten it all so wrong.

Zaida turned around to watch her two friends walk down the hallway, only to see Xander approaching, hands shoved into the pockets of his deputy uniform. “Don’t even try. There’s no way in hell I’m leaving,” Zaida laughed humourlessly, refusing to go.

“Zay, what are you going to do here? Wait around for him to wake up? Let’s go home, get some rest, and I can bring you back in the morning before my shift starts.” Xander was careful to speak softly to her, knowing she was in a tense state at the moment. He knew even if he’d tried to get her to go to school tomorrow, she would never allow it. At least she might compromise on this.

“The only way I’m leaving this hospital is if you throw me over your shoulder and carry me out, kicking and screaming, and fighting tooth and nail to stay. Do you really want that?” She crossed her arms over her chest, hip jutting out as she raised a brow at him challengingly.

“I’ll drop you off some clothes in the morning on my way to the station,” Xander yielded with a long and tired sigh, exhausted from having spent the night out looking for the boy along with the rest of the task force. He knew fighting with Zaida was futile, and she was going through enough as it was without him making it more difficult for her.

“Love you!” She called out after him with a wide grin as he went back the way he’d come.

“Love you too, you little terrorist,” He muttered back with a roll of his eyes but kept walking.

Zaida was waiting once more out in the hallway with her phone flashing to warn her of her critically low battery. Ignoring the glaringly low percentage in the top right corner of her screen, she turned her attention back to the message thread that had been running with Allison since the night before.

To Artemis: Did you get the translation?

Artemis: Yes, but we only ended up with more questions.

To Artemis: Do elaborate. It’s not like I have anything else to do here.

Artemis: Mr Yukimura said it was an announcement instructing Japanese-Americans upon arrival to an internment camp in WWII, but the camp was called Oak Creek and didn’t exist. He thinks it’s a prank.

To Artemis: Do YOU think it’s a prank?

Artemis: With everything else that’s happened? No.

To Artemis: Me neither.

Japanese fox spirits, demons, freaky voicemails from WWII internment camps that don't exist...What the hell was going on?

“Zaida?” Sheriff Stilinski’s voice roused her from her laser-like focus and she looked up to see him beconing her over to where he stood by Stiles’ room. The doctor he’d just been speaking to had left and was already down the hall by the same Zaida made her way over.

“Are they done yet?” She questioned, wondering if the examinations were finally over.

“Almost. They wanna do an MRI.” The man let out a weary sigh, his posture haunched with exhaustion. He’d been there all night with her and hadn’t slept a wink - not even when Zaida had dozed off against his shoulder after they’d raided the vending machine for a late-night-early-breakfast.

“So that means none of the tests have been conclusive?” She raised her brows, eyes shining with hope. Inconclusive test results would be good news at this point, considering the only other alternative if they were conducting an MRI would be to confirm a suspected diagnosis.

“I dunno kiddo,” He shook his head with lips pursed in stress. “Look, I’m gonna pick us all up some proper food. While I’m gone, you should be in there with him. He needs you right now.”

“He needs you too, Sheriff.” Zaida pointed out, seeing how the man was on the verge of dissociating to cope with it all.

“I know,” He promised, reading the meaning behind her loaded stare. Zaida nodded, allowing him to leave before she reached for the door handle and twisted it open.

“Hey there stranger,” Zaida smiled at the boy lying down in the hospital bed as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. She’d been there almost all day as doctors pulled him in and out for various tests, but it was the first time she’d been allowed to see him.

“Zaida,” Stiles shifted to straighten into a sitting position at the sight of her. “You look…”

“Hideous? Xander dropped me off a change of clothes this morning and picked the most atrocious yet basic outfit ever, and there’s no need to remind me,” She wrinkled her nose and pulled at the purple top that kept riding up her body uncomfortably. She hoped that trivial humour might be enough to lighten the situation.

“I was going to say you look exhausted,” He noted. Her makeup had started to wear away to reveal dark circles under her bloodshot eyes.

“Because that’s so much better,” The brunette drawled sarcastically, crossing the room to sit on a chair beside him.

“How long have you been here?” Stiles questioned. He hadn’t seen her, but Xander dropping off clothes for her would suggest she’d been at the hospital for a long while.

“Since last night,” She shrugged, as if waiting around a hospital for over eighteen hours was no big deal. His amber eyes shone with appreciation as he gazed at her in a way that made her heart flutter. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a bus.” He ground out with a huff of dry laughter, shuffling over the mattress and patting the space beside him to beckon her. Zaida pushed herself out of the chair and clambered onto the bed, settling into place next to the boy. “Have they told you what’s going on?”

“They didn’t have to tell me,” She shut her eyes, leaning into his side and savouring the warmth of his body.

“Of course you figured it out,” Stiles smiled fondly, the arm that was around her coming up to brush over her skin. He didn’t have to tell her that he was scared, she could feel it now. The connection had opened once more upon her arrival at the hospital.

“You know, even if it is…” Zaida began but couldn’t bring herself to say the words. “There is still something we can do - something Scott can do.”

“You’re talking about the bite,” He deduced and she pulled away to look at him eye to eye.

“Would you do it? Scott won’t go through with it unless you want it,” She questioned, searching his face for an answer. She wanted to cry and beg him to say yes, but she also didn’t want her pleas to influence his decision. This wasn’t about what she wanted, it was about Stiles. So instead she tried to hide her hopeful expression. For a moment he appeared conflicted until she found determination in his eyes.

“If it’s true - if I have what Mom had,” Stiles sucked in a deep breath and Zaida’s pulse quickened in anticipation. “Then yeah. Yes, I’d take the bite. Being a werewolf is better than what I had to watch her go through, and what my father would go through by having to live it all again.”

Her muscles relaxed at his response and she curled into him once more, resting her head over his chest so she could hear his heart beating beneath her cheek. Stiles’ arms wrapped around her, resting his chin atop her head. Each time he breathed in he could smell her sweet perfume and it calmed the anxiousness in his soul. “I just want all this to end,” He whispered and her chest ached in sympathy for him.

“He’s in there,” Zaida held the door to the examination room open so Scott could walk through before she followed him. Noah and Melissa were already inside with the specialist.

“I'm not sure I know how to pronounce this...or if it's not actually a misspelling…” The doctor trailed off as he stared at Stiles’ medical forms in his hand, and not for the first time Zaida wondered what the boy’s birth name was.

“Just call him Stiles,” The Sheriff waved the doctor off impatiently.

“Okay. Stiles, just to warn you, you're going to hear a lot of noise during the MRI. It's due to pulses of electricity going through metal coils inside the machine.” The man explained to the boy who was wearing a hospital gown, ready to be examined. “Uh, if you want, we can get you earplugs or headphones…”

“Oh, no. No, I don't need anything.” Stiles declined, sitting on the edge of the bed that would soon retract into the machine.

“Hey, we're just on the other side of that window, okay?” Melissa reassured the boy and Zaida sent him a comforting smile that he struggled to return before she joined the adults and the doctor in a conjoining room behind protective glass.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to be in here, young lady,” The doctor conducting the test stared at her sternly, but Noah waved him off.

“It’s okay, Stiles would want her here,” He defended her and she sent him a grateful expression.

Zaida watched as Scott and Stiles talked to one another, knowing what was being said as Stiles nodded and pulled Scott into a tight hug with tears in his eyes. When Scott pulled away and left the room to go back into the hallway, the doctor whose badge told them his name was Vandenberg began the process.

“Okay, Stiles...This will take about forty-five minutes to an hour. Now, remember, try not to move - even a little bit.” Dr Vandenberg spoke into a long microphone as the bed Stiles was lying on moved into the white machine like entering a cocoon. “Stiles, you're going to hear that noise now. It's going to be a loud clanging - kind of like a hammer hitting an anvil.”

Zaida winced and was forced to push her blocks firmly into place as Stiles’ anguish echoed down their bond. This would be a long hour.

“Is it over?” Zaida asked as the doctor pulled up a few images on the screen in front of him. She crowded around the control panel between Noah and Melissa as they all looked at the scans of Stiles’ brain.

“See this? The tissue here and there?” Dr Vandenberg’s gloved finger pointed to red and orange masses on the otherwise blue, black and white images. “Both those spots are showing signs of atrophy.”

“Atrophy?” Noah repeated in a defeated tone, his lined face crumpling as tears welled in his light eyes. Zaida’s own heart sank to the very bottom of her stomach at the news. Atrophy meant degeneration, which meant brain shrinkage, which meant...

“I'm sorry.” The doctor pursed his lips, stepping back to allow them the privacy to grieve.

“Sheriff, I’m so sorry,” Zaida pulled the man into a hug as he broke and the tears came flowing. He surprised even himself when he began sobbing, and she could feel him shaking as he returned her hug tightly. She couldn’t imagine how hard this must be for him, given it wasn’t the first time he’d received such news about someone he loved.

“My son…” The man’s words were muffled between loud sniffles. “Why my son? First my Claudia…and now Stiles...”

“It’s going to be okay. Scott’s going to do something, alright?” Zaida reassured him, her own eyes tearing up in the heavy emotion of the moment. All she wanted to do was to break down herself but she held it together for the sake of the man who had already lost his wife, and had just found out he was set to lose his son. “He’s going to be okay, I promise.”

The lights above them flickered and dimmed with a loud hum before the power was restored and the lighting returned to normal, surprising them all enough for Zaida and Noah to pull apart with inquisitive expressions. “What was that?” Melissa questioned.

“It sounded like a power surge.” The doctor answered, and they all looked towards the MRI machine where the bed was now empty and Stiles was nowhere in sight.

“Where's my son?” Stilinski asked, his voice low and stuffy from the crying. Zaida didn’t wait around to hear any of their guesses as her heart pounded in alarm. She was the first to rush out of the room and into the dark hallway, reaching out to the door in her mind only to find it locked once more. It was enough to tell her something was wrong.

She wound through the torrent of patients and staff alike panicking in the hallway as she headed back to Stiles’ room, only to find the pile of clothes he’d left when he’d changed into the hospital gown was now missing. “Damn it, Stiles!” She swore and emerged back into the hallway as they began to empty. Where was he? Had he run out on his own or was he taken? She walked through the darkness aimlessly, not knowing where to even start searching for the boy, until she heard voices.

“You know me?” A woman was speaking, and Zaida came to the end of the corridor where it met with another at a ninety-degree angle where an elevator was. “Then you remember that I won't be deterred by your choice of host…even if it's an innocent boy.”

At the woman’s words, Zaida stepped back, ducking behind the corner so as not to be seen. A host? Teenage boy? Her heart leapt into her throat as she realised there was only one thing the woman could possibly mean by her accusation. She was talking to the Nogitsune.

“Are you threatening us?” Goosebumps rippled across her skin at hearing the second voice. It was cold and low, but not unfamiliar. Stiles, she had been talking to Stiles.

“Now I'm threatening you.” The woman responded and Zaida risked a peek around the corner to only just see inside of the elevator. As the lights flickered on and off above, they illuminated the masked, snarling faces of two Oni on either side of a woman with dark hair and almond eyes.

“We're not really afraid of your little fireflies.” Stiles chuckled in amusement and Zaida’s blood froze to a river of ice. Stiles was the Nogitsune.

She couldn’t move - she could hardly breathe as her mind struggled to comprehend the fact that Stiles was the Dark Kitsune’s vessel. She’d thought that humans couldn’t host the Nogitsune, otherwise, why had the Oni not tested any of them? She’d thought that had meant he was safe. Her painting, his dreams, her dream…Everything had been pointing straight at him all along and yet they’d still been blinded. She’d had a feeling the other night in the hospital and she cursed herself for not listening to it - for not figuring out what it had meant earlier. But what of his symptoms? The MRI results? Was the diagnosis still true? Or had it all been a smokescreen to stop them from figuring out the Nogitsune’s identity?

“If the Oni can't defeat you, I know someone who will.” The woman challenged and Zaida finally tore her feet from where they’d been glued to the floor, stumbling away from the scene.

She needed to find the others. She needed to warn them. And Stiles…was Stiles gone, or was he still in there somewhere? Was there any way to get him back? Her footsteps echoed through the empty halls as she staggered through the darkness, fear’s grip tightening on her heart like icy claws. What did the Nogitsune want? And why had it taken Stiles? Tears rolled once again down Zaida’s cheeks, streaking through her already smudged makeup. Why did it have to be Stiles?

Turning into the next hallway, Zaida froze in her tracks when a figure was standing before her, as if it had been waiting. A conflicted wave of emotions crashed over her at the sight of him. It wasn’t Stiles - not really - but it wore his face. The face that made her body instinctively calm down was now the source of her anxiety, and she was teetering on the edge of a very tall cliff. Zaida's breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, her heart hammering against her chest.

“S-Stiles,” Her voice shook as it left her lips, and she tried to paint a facade over her terror. He didn’t know that she knew, right? Maybe it was best if she could keep it that way. “I was looking for you. You disappeared.”

The Nogitsune didn’t say anything, he simply smirked faintly as he stepped closer at a leisurely pace. The overhead lights flashed on and off until they completely died, shrouding them in a blanket of darkness. Zaida prodded with her powers, reaching into her mind to try and find Stiles’ door to find it locked once more. It was only then that it dawned on her - the connection between herself and Stiles was never gone. It was simply that this wasn’t Stiles. All those times that she couldn’t feel him…It was because it hadn’t been him at all. When the Nogitsune was present, Stiles was completely unreachable.

“We- We should probably find the others,” Zaida spoke again when he remained quiet, attempting to flash him a casual smile. Her words were barely a whisper as she struggled to maintain her composure. Stiles - or rather, not -Stiles - kept staring at her with that amused expression stopping in front of her. She tried to take a step - to move past him under the guise of searching for their friends, but his arm shot out with impossible speed, barring her from going any further.

“Did you really think that your little act would work?” He tilted his head at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “It’ll take a lot more than that to fool a fox, Zaida. You can’t trick a trickster. You can’t trick me.”

Zaida could hear her own racing heart beating in the blood that thrummed through her ears, and she was fairly certain the creature before her could hear it too. She didn’t dare look in his eyes, not when she knew what she would find there - something dark, something other, something not -Stiles, something Void. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to run, to flee in the opposite direction and never turn back. But she couldn’t move. Terror stiffened her muscles, sticking her to the spot. A single, lonely tear betrayed her, rolling down her cheek. As the Nogitsune stepped even closer, her breath hitched in her throat, her body trembling. She didn’t know what to do. Her brain was full of thick fog, inhibiting her ability to think straight - or think at all.

Void Stiles chuckled and the sound made her organs twist uncomfortably, her nightmare flashing through her mind as the arm barring her movement lifted to grip her chin. Tilting her face away from him, his nose dragged across her cold skin from her temple to her ear. His warm tongue pressed forcefully over her cheek where her tear had run and she flinched, trying to jerk away from his hold, but he was too strong. “I can taste your fear.” He whispered, his breath hot against the side of her face.

Void stepped away, letting her go, but before she could react he lunged forward, his movements swift and predatory. It was a far cry from his usual awkward and clumsy demeanour. The world spun around Zaida as his fist connected with her jaw, sending her crashing to the ground in a haze of pain and confusion. As darkness closed in around her, the last thing she saw was the Nogitsune in Stiles’ body, looming over her.

“We have a live wire, a powerline has been cut at Beacon Memorial. Ten forty-five ‘d’, two deceased adults and one electrocuted teenager with second-degree burns, over.” Xander spoke into the radio clipped to his uniform pocket as he scanned the scene before him.

An ambulance driver was dead, having stepped into the electrified water covering the ground. A civilian had done the same, and the area was already being roped off with police tape. Another officer was directing the flow of traffic around the crime scene, and once again, right in the middle of it all, were Zaida’s friends. Xander stalked over to Scott McCall, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, and Kira Yukimura, who were all crowded around an injured Isaac Lahey. Gripping Scott by his arm and pulling him aside, Xander’s jaw locked with anger.

“So are you gonna tell me what the hell really happened here?” He demanded with a threatening glare. The fact that the group were always showing up at crime scenes was suspicious at best and incriminating at worst. It was hard enough to hide the supernatural from the world without the McCall pack constantly getting involved.

“Someone tampered with the electrical on the roof of the hospital and one of the powerlines up there snapped and came flying down here,” Scott answered in a hushed tone so no one would overhear them.

“Someone?” Xander repeated with raised eyebrows, sensing there was something the wolf wasn’t telling him. “What am I missing here?”

“Zaida is gonna kill me for telling you this, but…when we died to find our parents we gave power back to the Nemeton, which turned it into a sort of supernatural magnet.” Scott winced, knowing that if Xander didn’t brutally murder him after hearing the truth, Zaida certainly would.

“You idiots did what?!” Xander hissed, his dark eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, well, it gets worse.” Scott swallowed thickly. “It brought something to Beacon Hills - a dark Kitsune spirit that is possessing someone, and a bunch of demon ninjas that are looking for it.”

“Where’s my sister?” Xander realised with a jolt that Zaida was missing from the group, and so was Stiles.

“She’s still inside,” The werewolf answered, and Xander didn’t wait to hear anymore.

With a newfound sense of urgency and concern for his sister propelling him forward, he sprinted into the building, launching himself into the stairwell and climbing the structure three at a time. The clatter of footsteps behind him told him he was being followed, but he didn’t care - his sole thought was of his sister. Sprinting through the hallways, he made a beeline for Stiles’ room, gripping the frame to shift his direction as he burst inside to find Noah Stilinski standing alone in the darkness.

“Where is she?” He asked, his chest heaving as he scanned the otherwise empty space.

“She’s gone. They both are,” The Sheriff muttered an answer, his shoulders sagging defeatedly. “Parish reported Stiles’ Jeep leaving the premises ten minutes ago.”

“Damn it!” Xander cursed, overwhelmed by a mixture of anger and worry, and he took it out on a nearby chair. Lifting the furniture into the air, he hurled it across the room where it smashed to pieces against a wall.

“Is this hers?” Scott asked from behind the hunter, lifting a cream-coloured knit jacket to his nose. Xander nodded and the werewolf turned to Derek beside him. “That scent on the roof? You remember how I told you there was something else to it? It wasn’t just Stiles’ scent, it was Zaida’s too.”

“That might not change anything,” Derek stated with a blank expression, elaborating when Scott appeared confused. “Sometimes, when two people are bonded together, their scents can start to mix with one another.”

“So you’re saying it was only Stiles on the roof?” Scott frowned, trying to keep up.

“Yes. And no.” Derek tilted his head. “I’m saying it could have been either of them, or both. There’s no way to tell.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Xander whipped around to face them.

“When we were looking for Stiles I tracked his scent to the roof - or what I thought was his scent. The person on the roof sabotaged the wires. This whole thing was orchestrated…by the person possessed by the Nogitsune.” Derek answered and Xander’s heart sank when he finally understood the significance of the discussion.

“But Deaton said the Nogistune could only get in through an open door - one that was already connected to the other side. Allison, Stiles and I are the only ones who did that.” Scott reasoned, but a voice by the door turned all of their heads.

“That’s not entirely true.” Lydia stood before them with a grim expression on her face.

“What are you doing here?” Scott questioned. “I thought you were staying home tonight.”

“I heard Zaida screaming…I had to come.” The girl explained in an empty voice, knowing she was too late. She'd been driving when she'd heard her best friend crying out in what sounded like agony, over and over and over again until her head felt as though it was about to explode.

“What do you mean it’s not true,” Derek interrupted, prompting the redhead to speak up.

“Zaida did open a door, remember?” Lydia looked at Scott. “Before the three of you did the ritual, Zaida did something just like it with Stiles to talk to her mom.”

“So it could be either of them,” Scott whispered in realisation.

“Okay, you all need to tell me everything, right the fuck now.” Xander glared menacingly. All he could think about was his sister and the blinding need to find her.

“You need to tell us everything.” Noah corrected, his spine straightening with purpose.

[angelyuji]

I also love Yan!Spiderman, there will never be enough content for him ! Can I request a headcannon ? Or a blurb, whatever you prefer ? I love the amnesia trope, like the reader having long-term amnesia after an accident or whatever and yan!Spiderman swooping in, saying they have been dating for months... You may get suspicious of how flustered he gets but he knows so much about you, he can't be lying, right ? 😚

17+

cw// stalking, non-consensual picture taking, kind of kidnapping, familial neglect, car accident caused by superheroes, non-consensual kissing, non-consensual touching, forced hugs, lying, manipulation, “gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss” energy, implied murder, peter being a crybaby to guilt trip you, idk peter being gross and pervy and being a liar, toxic relationship (kind of because you’re kinda not aware of the fact that he sucks and he’s lying)

· OMGBESTIE sorry i just absolutely ADORE the amnesia trope in yandere fics GHJKJHGF

· it’s just so perfect *chef’s kiss*

· anyway

· you got into accident that totally not caused by peter…yeah, it was totally definitely the criminal’s fault …

· but i mean, why were you driving in the middle of a villain attack anyway? oh, you had to go to work?...so??? peter didn’t give you the ok?????

· right, so he’s tossing cars and trying to bring justice (or something like that) and he saw you coming, but alas, he's too late

· you see something hurtling towards your car as you stop at a red light. you squint your eyes, “oh. ha, that’s a car…wait”

· peter was only a couple feet away when he sees the truck he threw slam against the hood of your car, crumpling the hood like it’s made of aluminum foil. time moves in slow motion as peter tries to reach you. out of reflex, peter shoots his webs to move you from impact. he can feel himself move, but his mind shuts down. when he regains consciousness, you’re in his arms, passed out, but seemingly unscathed. he feels relief, then fury. peter barely noticed when the paramedics came to move you out of his arms. he turns to the villain, his whole body shaking, and launches himself at the man.

· you end up in the hospital for a brain injury that left you in a coma and peter literally never left your side. he came every day and stayed by your side until visiting hours were over, and came into your room at night as spiderman after patrol.

· the hospital staff saw him so much that they assumed you were both in a relationship, so when you woke up at night during his patrol hours, they called him first.

· they called your parents after…weird, i know

· “how do you feel?”

· “fine, i guess. tired, surprisingly” you chuckle dryly and the doctor smiles.

· “fine is good. what’s the last thing you remember?”

· “…um….i can’t… I don’t-”

· “hey, it’s okay. take your time.” the doctor tries to be reassuring, but you feel panic bubble. what’s going on, why can’t you remember what happened? what’s happening to you? your breathing turns rough and the air feels thicker as you seem to remember less and less of what you should know. all of a sudden, two arms wrap around you and pull you into them.

· “it’s gonna be okay” they mumble into your hair as you cry into their shirt.

· peter and the doctor eventually figured out that you were missing 4 years of your life. the 4 years that you’ve lived in queens, to be exact.

· peter realizes exactly what he has to do when the doctor pulls him and your family aside to explain the situation

· (they had asked him who tf he was and he, in a panic to not be kicked out, said y’all were dating)

· he offers your family a way out, a way to not take the stress of taking care of you, by letting him take care of you

· “i love them. i can’t lose them and i won’t lose them, so please, let me take care of them”

· honestly, your family was lowkey relieved that peter offered to take care of you, not even remembering that you have never mentioned this man in any conversation (who has amnesia now??)

· peter would go into your room and tell you that you’re going home with him

· “what? what about my family?”

· “they’re okay with it. they have a lot going on and, as your boyfriend-”

· “boyfriend? i’ve never seen you before in my life?”

· “no! no, we started dating when you moved to queens!" at your blank stare, he lowers his head slightly and you see tears fall, "i wish you would remember”

· peter will pull out his pictures of you saying stuff like “then how do i have these pictures?? hmm????” and fake crying to make it seem like he was your grieving boyfriend

· he’ll be constantly mentioning the fact that he’s your boyfriend to you and to others (at some point, ur confused on whether he’s trying to convince you or trying to convince himself) “as your boyfriend’ “your boyfriend” “i love being with you and going on dates haha yk since im your bf”

· he’ll make up different stories from places he’s seen you. if he stalked you while you were walking at the park, he’ll say you both went on walks often. if you went on picnics by yourself often, he’ll say you constantly had picnic dates. had a fun day at the arcade? more like, you had fun day at the arcade with peter!

· peter’s smart, he uses these events as a way of tricking your brain into thinking that each memory you recover of these moments are just moments that are missing him, and eventually, he’ll start appearing in memories

· peter would take you to his apartment and absolutely REFUSE to let you leave, he’ll have an excuse ready to make sure you can’t leave your new home

· “the doctor said you shouldn’t move too much”

· he’ll make you sleep in the same bed as him, go on dates with him, hug and kiss him like “you used to do” with the excuse of “the doctor said you should do things that you used to do before the accident to start remembering everything”

· …riiight

· “are you coming to bed?” you lay in his bed, waiting for peter.

· “i-i sorry, yes, I-” peter stumbles on his words as he stands by the bed.

· you sit up in annoyance, “peter, you said we slept together. what’s wrong?”

· peter turns bright red, “no! nothing’s wrong! it’s nothing, i-i’m coming to bed in a sec.” you lay back down and soon you feel him crawl into bed. you turn your back to him, but peter pulls you closer to him and start leaving kisses down your back.

· “what are you doing.” you whisper into the darkness. his small touches feel foreign on your skin and your body itches to move in disgust.

· “i’m helping you sleep. uh-before, i helped you fall sleep like this, maybe this’ll help you remember” peter pushes his head into the crook of your neck and holds you closer, his fingers grazing under your shirt and feeling your stomach.

· you try to move away without panicking, “maybe, we’re moving too fast? i kinda need some spa-” you feel peter freeze.

· “do-do you not love me anymore?” you feel peter’s tears before you hear his sniffles, “i didn’t want to push you, but i just missed you so much and i thought that you were starting to remember how much you love me.” his sniffles turn to sobs and you start feeling guilty. you push your discomfort away and let yourself get pulled into his warmth.

· “no, it's fine. just don’t, you know, cry please.” you press your lips into a thin line and sigh as peter stops sniffling and hums in content.

· he’ll guilt you into doing what he wants with tears and sobs about how he misses “the old you”

· funny, considering the fact that this mf basically made up his entire relationship with you because he’s literally psychotic

· your relationship would be seemingly normal too, except that all of the friends that talked about how they’ve never met peter before your accident went missing…huh, definitely no connection there…

· but by the time they inform you of their concern, it is already months after your accident and peter would have already made you believe that you were dating

· in peter’s mind, you’re everything and more than he imagined, even though you barely know him, he knows you so well that it’s easy for him to make you believe that you’re together.

· peter would tell he’s spiderman once you’ve stopped resisting him to make sure that you won’t search up your accident and see that spiderman was involved

· the only way for you to break from peter’s grip on your mind is for him to accidently confess that he’s lied to you

· and that’ll happen, peter may be good at lying, but during a fight, he might let it slip

· “I TOLD YOU NOT TO TALK TO THEM.”

· “they’re my friends, peter. you can’t stop me from seeing them.” you roll your eyes when peter’s face crumples. “ugh, peter, stop with the guilt-tripping. your fake tears don’t work on me anymore.”

· peter’s face turns cold, “your friends are liars and they’ve been trying to break us up since the accident. all they say when they see me are lies.”

· you keep a straight face, “well, i know it’s a lie, so you don’t have to act like this.”

· “but-but what if you start believing them? what if you realize that you can do better than me? what if you remember everything? what if they make you break up with me? wh-” peter turns to you and sees you frozen in place. he moves towards you and pulls you into a hug, but you stay stiff.

· “what do you mean “remember”?” you whisper and peter’s eyes go wide. silence fills the room as peter says still.

· “well, shit”

-

[fruitcoops]

could we see coops first big fight when they’re married? (essentially pure angst)

Yes, we can! Don’t worry, I got your follow-up ask about a happy ending as well--there are no sad endings on this blog, just some bittersweet ones, and this is very soft and fluffy. Hope you enjoy!

Combined with prompts for...

1. Another of Coops’ serious talks

2. Remus overworking himself to keep up

3. From @colored-rain: Sirius sleeping at Dumo’s for a night

4. Slow dancing in the kitchen

TW for couples fighting, suppression, and marriage issues

“Do you think we got married too fast?” a quiet voice asked in the darkness.

Remus paused for several heartbeats before opening his eyes and turning over; Sirius was staring at the ceiling, wide awake. “What?”

“Do you think we got married too fast?” Sirius repeated without looking at him.

“Do you?” Remus countered. Something panicky was starting to buzz in the back of his brain and he tried to keep his breaths steady. Sirius wasn’t breaking up with him. They had only been married for a few months. Things were really, really good—as far as he knew, they were both happier than they had ever been.

Sirius sighed through his nose. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Remus sat up against the headboard, wide awake. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I—” Sirius shifted to sit up as well and crossed his legs. “I don’t know! People usually date for a lot longer than a year and a half before getting married, right?”

“We’ve known each other for seven years, Sirius.”

“Yes, and I love you, and you’re wonderful, but everything happened so fast.”

Remus wasn’t sure if his heart was trying to crawl out of his chest or dissolve into a puddle of pain. “Are you—Sirius, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Sirius said immediately. “I just said I love you, what the hell?”

“People can love each other and still break up!”

Sirius grabbed his hands, holding tight even when Remus tried to pull back and let his panic overtake him. Grey eyes locked on his, as solemn as he had ever seen them. “I’m not breaking up with you, Remus.” The clock on the nightstand beeped midnight and Sirius pressed his lips together. “We have early practice.”

“We need to talk.”

“We need to sleep.”

“Promise we’ll talk tomorrow, then.” We need to talk right now, actually.

Sirius squeezed his hands and kissed his cheek. His cheek. “I promise.”

Remus didn’t sleep much that night. His cheek burned with the memory of Sirius’ lips.

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

Their morning routine was stilted and quiet. Practice was awkward, and though neither of them let the previous night’s events influence their performance, he knew the tension was palpable. “Y’all good?” Leo asked under his breath as Remus filled his waterbottle up.

“We’re fine,” he answered, exhausted.

“Loops—”

“Stay in your lane, Knut.” He regretted the words as soon as they escaped his mouth—the kicked-puppy look on Leo’s face was more than enough to make guilt spike up—but he kept on moving down the hall and tried to wash the bitter taste from his mouth.

The ride home was worlds worse than he could have expected. Sirius turned the radio off the moment it started to play and kept his eyes firmly on the windshield the entire time, tapping his thumb against the wheel in the tic that always appeared when he was nervous. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t help us fix whatever’s going on.” Remus wasn’t angry, per say, but he was really fucking frustrated with Sirius’ sudden inability to communicate. “Talk to me. What happened?”

Sirius chewed the edge of his lip. “I was just thinking.”

There was a long stretch of silence between them. “Wow, thank you for that incredibly helpful information,” Remus said sarcastically when it became clear he wasn’t going to continue.

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Sirius muttered.

“I’m not trying to be mean—”

“Well, you kind of were—”

“Then maybe you should talk about your problems for once!” Remus snapped before he could shove it back down. Sirius’ jaw clenched. “If we’re going to work through this, then you have to tell me what the hell happened to make you so worried and upset. Do you regret getting married to me?”

The response was immediate. “No.”

“Thank you.” He leaned his head back against the seat rest and closed his eyes. “Thank you, that was what I needed to hear.”

“Do you think we moved too fast?”

Remus scrubbed a hand over his face. “I used to. I don’t, anymore. There’s no rulebook for any of this. How long have you been thinking about that?”

Sirius started tapping the wheel again. “A couple weeks.”

He may as well have opened the passenger door and booted Remus from the car. A breath punched out of his lungs. “A couple weeks?” he whispered. The world was spinning, the floor was open, hell itself was coming to swallow him up. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured it was normal marriage stuff. That it would pass.”

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

“And I do?” Remus said incredulously. “News flash: this is the first time I’ve ever been married, too!”

“Please don’t be angry.”

“Being married means you share things, Sirius, not keep them bottled up for two weeks! Especially when they concern the other person!”

Something stormy came over his face. “Oh, really? So when were you planning on talking to me about the fact that you haven’t slept in six days?”

“I literally sleep next to you!”

“You toss and turn all night, and then you get up and run drills for an hour before coming back to bed. Every time I ask how you slept, you lie to my face, Remus. That’s not okay.”

Remus was speechless. He had done everything he could think of to be quiet and careful so Sirius wouldn’t know. “I…”

Sirius glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Be an adult. Be an adult. You’re married. Be an adult. “I’m still worried about catching up to the team.”

“I figured. We’ve talked about this before, Re, it’s not safe for you to do that to yourself—”

“You don’t get it!” Sirius pulled into their driveway and turned the car off. “You have no idea how it feels to constantly be catching up to people! I’m fine, it’s not like I’m doing any damage!”

“I’m sorry, did you forget who you’re talking to?”

Remus clenched his teeth and got out of the car, grabbing his duffel from the backseat before slamming the door. He felt a little guilty—the rising memories of hushed confessions of hours of exercise to his father’s whistle meant Sirius understood better than anyone. Then the front door closed behind them both and the indignance on Sirius’ face sent his temper flaring up again. “You never bother to talk to me about anything that’s going on with you, so why should I even try?”

“What happened to ‘marriage is a partnership’?” Sirius followed him into the kitchen. “Have we moved on to the hypocrite stage yet or are we still clearing the air where nothing ever gets solved?”

Remus reeled back like he’d been slapped. “Fucking excuse me?”

“Every time we fight, you start all sarcastic and defensive, and then you get preachy like you’re reading something out of a fucking self-help book!” Sirius ran a hand through his hair. “Christ, Remus, it feels like I’m talking to a therapist instead of my partner!”

“Husband!” The ring on his finger had always been a comfort instead of a lead weight. “You can’t even say it?”

“I don’t regret marrying you!

“Then why are you so upset about us being married young?!”

“Because it’ll fall apart!” Sirius shouted back. “We’re going to be insufferably happy for a while, and then somewhere along the line we’re going to hate each other, and then it’ll be cold looks when we pass and different beds and all our friends will have to pick sides because we can’t stand to be in the same room together!”

“If you’re so sure about that, then why are you trying to fucking hard to keep us together?” Remus’ heart pounded like he’d run a marathon. Hearing his own fears thrown in his face was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced.

“Because I love you.” Sirius’ voice broke. They were on opposite sides of the kitchen island, but Remus could see the pain on his face. “I love you, and I don’t want some—some impulsive decision to ruin that forever.”

“I love you, too.” Tears clogged the back of Remus’ throat. So stop pushing me away.

“Then I’ll be at Dumo’s.”

Remus nodded silently as Sirius walked past him toward the stairs; the moment he was out of sight, he headed into the downstairs bathroom and sat down with his back to the closed door, burying his face in his forearms. There was a rustle outside, and the front door closed with a click.

It wasn’t until his face itched with drying tears that he remembered Hattie. Guilt and panic stabbed through him and he scrambled back out, sprinting to her bed and then to the backyard. “Hattie?” he called, frantic with worry. “Hattie, c’mere!”

He closed his eyes and thought back to the events of the day. They had left her in the house for practice, and he vaguely remembered hearing her in the other room while they were fighting, and when Sirius left—

“Oh, you bastard,” he said aloud. The rustling of Sirius grabbing his duffel and whatever else he packed had been accompanied by the pattering of Hattie’s paws. “You took our fucking dog.”

Part of him was grateful that at least somebody had remembered their baby. The other part was absolutely furious. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a few deep breaths as the tone played. “Hello?”

“Can you pick me up?”

“Re, are you okay?”

“Not really. Can you pick me up?”

Concern dripped from Lily’s voice. “Where are you?”

“At home.”

“…where’s Sirius?”

“At Dumo’s.”

“I’m on my way.”

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

Harry Potter had been alive for less than two years, and he had been cried on by about half the Lions. Finn had started referring to him as ‘therapy baby’, and Remus was inclined to agree—it was hard to feel anything extreme when he was holding the pudgy little angel to his chest.

“So you fought?” Lily asked gently from the armchair across from him. Remus nodded. The whole story had spilled out in a gross mess of sobbing and baby snuggles until he laid down on his back, holding Harry to his chest as he dozed.

“I feel like an idiot,” he said miserably.

“Don’t.”

“It was awful.”

“I bet.”

Remus sniffled and kissed the top of Harry’s head. “Thank you for getting me. I didn’t want to be there alone.”

“I’m glad you called.” She took a sip of tea and gave him a look that he never liked. “Re, can I be honest with you?”

“Always.”

“I was kind of waiting for this to happen.” At his stricken expression, she folded her hands around the sides of her mug. “I don’t think you got married too early, because neither of you do big things like that on impulse and you love each other so much. However, I do think that you have a habit of trying to protect each other from the shit you carry with you. James did the same thing to me, and it sucked.”

“It does suck,” Remus agreed. “I hate the thought that he can’t trust me.”

Lily held her finger up and shook her head. “Nope. It’s not an issue of trust, is it? Why didn’t you tell Sirius that you were having trouble sleeping?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry h—oh.” Harry wiggled around for a moment and Remus adjusted himself so he was leaning on the armrest. “I think I get it now.”

“You guys need to talk about that at some point or it’s going to keep coming up.”

“Is that what you and James did?”

“No, we let it fester for, like, a year and then broke up for two weeks.”

Remus made a sympathetic face. “I forgot about that part. I should call him, huh?”

Lily shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

“I want to apologize,” he said carefully. The sore spot in his heart and chest still twinged. “But I’m still really upset. And hurt. And a little angry? Mostly worried. There’s so much happening, I just want to hold your baby.”

“Go for it, he’s having a blast. Lover?”

There was a shuffling sound from the other room before James appeared in the doorway. “Yes?”

Remus snorted. “Simp.”

“Yes, and? What’s up, darling?”

“Can I have some more tea?” She batted her eyelashes at him with a dimpled smile and he sighed, then took her mug with him into the kitchen.

“You only love me for my kettle!” he called over his shoulder with a grin.

“Maybe!”

Remus turned his head to look at Lily while he ran a hand over Harry’s back. “Lils?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I preachy when I’m upset?”

She frowned. “What?”

“Preachy. Like—like I’m reading out of a self-help book.”

With a heavy sigh, she stood up and walked to the couch, leaning over the armrest to kiss his forehead. “No, Re, you’re not preachy. You like being right, but you’re not preachy.”

“Sirius thinks we’ll end up like his parents.”

“I’m not surprised about that, either.” She brushed his messy hair off his forehead and braided a small strand along the front, then gave it a little tug. “Guest bedroom’s yours for as long as you need it, okay?”

“That might be a while.”

She shook her head and patted his shoulder. “It won’t.”

“Could be.”

“Remus.”

“Sorry. Sleep well, Lils.” He sat up slightly and covered Harry’s ears. “And you, eavesdropper!”

“Love you!” James laughed from the other room. Lily picked the sleepy baby up and ushered Remus into the guest room with a final ‘goodnight’.

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

“Am I an idiot?” Sirius asked.

The bed creaked as Dumo readjusted his legs. “No, mon fils, you’re not an idiot. You are a young man going through his first marriage spat.”

“I hate it. I hate it. I said horrible things to him.”

“It sounds like you’re both to blame.”

“No, I brought it up first.” Dumo huffed, and he let out a slow exhale into the pillow. “Okay, maybe—maybe we were both in the wrong.”

“Fights are rarely one-sided. You have a visitor.”

Something cold prodded Sirius’ ear and he groaned, then curled on his side to let Hattie onto the covers next to him. “Bonjour, sweet girl. Thank you for the cuddles.”

She licked his nose and he smiled, petting the velvety top of her head. “Are you staying here tonight?”

“I was thinking about it. Re’s got the house to himself for a bit, then, and he knows I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’re taking the time to calm down a bit,” Dumo said as he stood with a final ruffle of Sirius’ hair. “That’s a wise decision. Bonne nuit.”

Sirius mumbled a response and made more room for Hattie, then settled in for a restless night. He never wanted to sleep alone again.

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

By some miracle, practice was more bearable the second day. Remus still ached somewhere deep inside, but it wasn’t like he had anything else left to suppress. Seeing Sirius was a relief; it surprised him at first, considering the explosive nature of the previous evening, before sliding into something that soothed him. If he could still find peace in Sirius after all that, they would be okay.

He knocked lightly on the side of Sirius’ stall after he returned from the shower. “Knock, knock. Ca—”

“Who’s there?”

Remus’ heart stuttered as Sirius looked up at him from the bench with an apologetic tilt to his mouth. Something clicked into place. “Can I get a ride?”

“ ‘course you can.” Sirius stood up just as Remus stepped forward, and they met in the middle for a tight hug. He tucked his face into the dip of Sirius’ collarbone and breathed in his shower-fresh smell, as well as the trace of laundry detergent from his shirt.

“Love you,” he murmured.

“Let’s go, mon loup.” Sirius pressed a kiss to his hair and they headed out toward the parking lot together; Remus caught Leo’s eye and saw him smile.

“How’s Dumo doing?” Remus asked as they turned out of the parking lot. Start slow, start easy. “Did you drop Hattie off at home before you came to practice?”

“Yeah, I did. He’s good, and Celeste sent me back with some brownies.”

Remus tentatively reached over and rested his hand on the side of Sirius’ thigh—his chest visibly caught before he relaxed into it and reached down to put his own overtop. “Harry’s doing well. Lily says he’s almost started running.”

“Did you go see them?”

“Stayed at their place last night.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It felt weird being there by myself.”

“Re—”

“I’m so sorry.” The words spilled out in a rush, despite his best efforts to keep it in until they reached home. “I’m sorry for everything I said to you, and especially for how I said it. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about how I was feeling, too. It should never have gotten to that point.”

“Apology accepted.” Sirius sounded a little choked up. “I don’t think we got married too soon, if that means anything.”

“Of course it means something,” Remus half-laughed as he wiped the dampness from the corners of his eyes. “It means everything.”

“I thought it might be too late.”

“Can you pull over for a second?” Sirius obliged, and as soon as he turned the car off, Remus turned to face him. He linked their hands, making sure Sirius was looking into his eyes. “It is never too late to talk to me, okay? I’m sorry if I ever made you think that it was.”

Sirius unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over for a brief kiss that sent bubbling warmth throughout Remus’ entire body. “I’m so, so sorry for yelling at you. And for keeping everything in, even though we both promised to stop doing that. All that shit I said, it—it wasn’t true, Re, and I wasn’t thinking.”

Remus rested their foreheads together and wound his fingers in the short curls fanning Sirius’ face. “Honey, we’re not your parents.”

Sirius swallowed hard. “I know.”

“So you don’t have to be afraid that we’re going to hate each other out of the blue, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If—” His mouth went a little dry and he faltered. “If you want to take a break, or take things slower, I totally respect—”

“Nope, no, no, no,” Sirius interrupted, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in for another fervent kiss. “I love you. I’m happy with you. I let my head get away from me, and I’m sorry.”

“All’s forgiven, love.” They sat in silence for a minute longer as Sirius traced his jawline. “Let’s go home.”

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

Sirius woke up in bed alone, which would have scared him if he didn’t know exactly where his husband was. He smiled to himself and got out of bed, grabbing a hoodie off their dresser before heading downstairs.

The kitchen light was on and music played quietly from Remus’ phone over the sound of running water. “You’re up late,” he said casually from the doorway.

Remus almost dropped a pot. “Jesus Christ!”

“Just me.” Sirius wrapped his arms around his waist as he set the pot on the drying rack. “Stressed?”

“A little. I forgot to do these earlier and didn’t want to leave them overnight again.” Sirius hummed his agreement and rocked back and forth, then took Remus’ hand and spun him in a slow circle. “Oh, are we slow dancing to the Billboard Top 100 now?”

“Very romantic, I know,” Sirius laughed.

Remus shook his head with a wide grin as they swayed, much too slow for the actual song but absolutely perfect. He was beautiful in the low light of their kitchen, puffy eyes from and all. “You are ridiculous.”

I’m the luckiest person alive. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Sirius leaned down for a series of quick kisses, pulling him in until their chests pressed together. Remus let go of his hand and draped both arms over his shoulders, tangling his hands in his hair. “I know we can’t exactly control it,” Sirius said against his lips. “But let’s never fight like that again.”

“Deal.”

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 24 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Happy Saturday my loves! A little fluff/angst double whammy for your afternoon :) 

contains: grouchy aaron, food mention, description of anxiety, canon-typical description of murder

wordcount: 2.4k

“I seem to remember you being the one lecturing me about the bureau’s generous sick leave policy not all that long ago,” You told Aaron as you gently shoved him back into bed three days after he’d broken his leg. 

“I also recall that in that situation, you were the one who was injured,” Aaron grumbles, and you roll your eyes. 

“Yes, and you stayed home to take care of me. Now, I’m returning the favor,” you reminded him. 

“I’m not going to get a brain bleed, I just need the leg to heal. You don’t need to stay with me all day while I sit in bed.” He argues.

“You’re right, but I think we both know that if I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t stay in bed, and seeing as how you can’t get as far as the bathroom without my help, that might present a problem.” You chastise him. “I’m not coming home to you bleeding out in the hallway because you fell over and couldn’t help yourself.”

“You make me sound like I’m eighty years old.” he scoffed. 

“Well, if you agree to wear a life alert, maybe I’ll go back to work.” You said, throwing your head against the pillows. There’s a few moments of silence, punctuated by Aaron’s deep sigh. 

“I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I’m being grumpy.” He apologized. “I just don’t want you to have to take care of me.” 

“You’re injured and in pain. You’re allowed to be grumpy,” you told him. “And I plan on taking care of you for the rest of my life, so you should start to get used to it.”

“Can I hold you for a little while? You don’t have to go near my leg,” he says, knowing you’ve been extra-gentle to avoid his injury since you’ve been home together. “You could put your head on my chest and I could just… hold you,” Aaron asks shyly, and your heart melts. 

“Of course, baby.” you say, snuggling your torso in close, leaning your head against his pec and resisting the urge to toss your legs over his. “See? Sick leave isn’t all that bad,” you tease him.

“No, I suppose not,” he smiles, rubbing an arm up and down your back.

“Jack is so excited to have you home.” You comment.

“Not that it matters, I can’t even take him to the park or ride a bike with him.” Aaron grouses. 

“Aaron, he’s over the moon just to have time to spend with you. He could sit here in bed with you watching Toy Story on a loop for the next six weeks and I’m sure he’d tell you it was the best month and a half of his life.” 

“A month and a half… I’m gonna go crazy.” Aarom remarks, more to himself than to you. 

“You’re gonna have to take up a hobby. Maybe knitting,” you snort, and Aaron smiles. 

“Yeah, or braiding or something,” he agrees offhandedly.

“Braiding?” You ask. 

“Oh, I mean, or maybe I could get back into Chess, finally get good enough to beat Spencer--” 

“No, no, back up, what made you bring up braiding?” 

“Uh… it’s just… something I’ve been thinking about in case we ever, you know, made a decision, and felt like maybe---” 

“Aaron, spit it out,” you laughed. 

“Just… if we had kids, or a daughter, I would want to be able to do her hair. Because if you’re not home, I don’t want to be the dad that doesn’t know how to do his daughter’s hair.” He confesses, the embarrassment clear in his tone. You place a kiss to his chest. 

“You are a good man, Aaron Hotchner.” 

“I’m glad you think so, anyways.”

“Alright, you’re getting grumpy and self-deprecating, which is a bad combo. You need a nap.” You instruct him teasingly. 

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, tightening his hold on you just slightly. 

“Of course, love. You go ahead and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

You went back to work a little over a week later, when Aaron was mostly off of his pain meds, and able to get himself around the apartment without any assistance. You were still staying there when you weren’t on a case, and found yourself grateful that you’d decided to sign a month-to-month lease-- you weren’t sure what the point was of keeping up the pretense of separate places anymore. But, then again, with Aaron injured, now probably wasn’t the best time for a move. You're working through a few scenarios in your head when Spencer interrupts your train of thought. 

“How’s Hotch feeling?” He asks as you and the rest of the team board the jet to head home after a case. 

“He’s doing better,” you tell him. “The pain isn’t bothering him as much and he’s getting a little bit of his range of motion back. I’m still trying my best to keep him in bed, but I’m sure you can imagine how well that’s going,” you tell him with a smile. 

“Well, tell him I can’t wait to have him back. I hate all this paperwork,” Morgan cuts in with a playful chuckle, and you shove at his shoulder. 

“I’m trying to keep him home, Derek. Besides, we all know that Spencer is doing most of the paperwork for you,” you called him out, and Emily and JJ laughed.

“He’s just so fast,” Morgan defends himself, and now everyone is laughing. 

“We do want him back,” Emily tells you. “But not until he’s good and ready. And then, you know, maybe even a few weeks after that. Wouldn’t kill him to take a vacation.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” JJ smirks. 

“Please, he’s already itching to get back to work. I think he’d leave me if I asked for a vacation.” You tell Emily.

“No, if you asked for a vacation he’d buy a plane ticket in an instant. And he’d bring his work phone and his computer to the beach and try to solve a murder from underneath a palm tree,” Morgan argued playfully. 

“Sometimes when we take a case somewhere warm, I stand in the parking lot for five minutes and face the sun. And if you close your eyes, it’s almost like a vacation.” You say. 

“Weren’t you literally taken hostage the last time you did that?” Spencer asks, and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly. 

“Well, there goes my tropical getaway,” you tease. 

With Morgan as acting unit chief, paperwork deadlines are considerably more flexible, which is to say nonexistent. Strauss would probably have a field day when she went to review the case file, but that wasn’t your problem. And, quite frankly, as you rushed to your car to get home to your boys, you couldn’t care less. 

When you swing the door open, you interrupt a very spirited game of Connect Four between Jack and Aaron. You notice that Aaron has at least three opportunities to make a winning move, all of which he ignores in favor of allowing Jack to push his chips in at random. 

“You’re home!” Jack exclaims when he sees you, scrambling across the living room and wordlessly commanding to be held by you. 

You hoist him up onto your hip, not without difficulty. He was getting big, and it made you a little sad. It strikes you that you won’t be able to do this forever, wrap him up in your arms and make him feel small and safe and secure. You squeeze him tighter. “Were you good for your daddy while I was gone?” 

“Uh-huh.” He nods, pulling back to look at you and running the collar of your shirt in between his thumb and forefinger absentmindedly. 

“And was Daddy good? He stayed off of his booboo leg?” You asked the only Hotchner who would give you a truthful answer. 

“Daddy was good.” Jack confirms, and you narrow your eyes skeptically. 

“Did he bribe you to say that? Ice cream for breakfast, or a new comic book?” You ask. 

“No. We watched Toy Story and I learned checkers. I had cereal for breakfast, not ice cream.” He tells you, and you relent. 

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun, bug.” You say, putting him down and crossing the living room to sit next to Aaron on the couch, who leaned over to press a kiss to the top of your head and placed a hand in your lap. 

“I did. But I missed you.” Jack tells you, climbing onto the couch next to you. 

“He’s not the only one,” Aaron whispers, pressing another kiss to your hair. 

“I missed you both, very very much,” you tell them, snuggling closer into Aaron and placing a hand in Jack’s hair. 

“We had pasta for dinner. I saved you a plate,” Aaron tells you. 

“Thank you, baby.” You tell him. “But, I’m pretty sure it’s past somebody’s bedtime…” You mention, and Jack pouts immediately. 

“I told him he could stay up until you got home, but he promised he wasn’t going to fight when it was time for bed, right buddy?” Aaron reminds his son. 

“Come on, sweet boy. I’ll tuck you in,” You tell him, pecking Aaron’s lips briefly before scooping Jack up off of the sofa and bringing him to his bed, tucking him in with extra stories and kisses to make up for the nights you missed while you were gone. 

When you come back into the kitchen, Aaron has heated up the leftover pasta and is waiting for you at the counter. 

“You didn’t have to get up, I would have done that,” you tell Aaron, knowing full well that he’d never actually listen.

“How was the case?” He asks as you settle in and start to eat. 

“It wasn’t too bad. We got the guy to surrender without hurting any of the hostages. A few of them were in pretty rough shape, but they should all recover.” you tell him in between bites. 

“And the team? Everyone’s doing okay?” 

“We’re all good, babe. JJ’s getting really good at the geographic profile, but I think it annoys her to stay at the station when we’re all out.” 

“She’s pregnant. It’s not worth the risk,” Aaron reminds you. 

“I know, honey, but it’s still annoying. It’s kind of like when you break your leg and you’re not allowed to go to work but you still have to hear all about it from your girlfriend,” you point out, and he smirks at you. 

“Morgan’s doing okay? The field agents aren’t giving him any trouble?” 

“Morgan can handle himself just fine against any cocky field agent. You don’t need to worry about us, sweetheart. We’re okay. You trained us up good,” you smiled at him, and he blushed, rolling his eyes at you. “We want you back, but we want you back healthy,” you tell him.

“Well, the doctor cleared me to start PT in two weeks. So hopefully I’ll be back sooner rather than later,” Aaron tells you. 

“That's great news! So the cast is coming off soon?” You ask. 

“Yeah, he wants to see me again to take it off and give me the final go-ahead for PT.”

“And you’re gonna take it easy at PT, because you know you can’t rush recovery, right?” You remind him. 

“Yes, mom,” he teases you with a smile. 

“It’s my turn to fret over you. Karma’s a bitch,” you smile at him as you get up to take his plate to the dishwasher. As you do so, his phone rings. 

“Hotchner,” he says into the receiver. “Woah, woah. Slow down, please. Are you okay?” Aaron says, and you turn around immediately, concerned. “Garcia, hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker. Yeah, she’s home. She’s here with me.” Aaron says, his eyes flicking over to you as he pulls the phone away from his ear and adjusts the volume. 

“Okay, so, I have been keeping an eye on Josh’s arrest record, awaiting his arraignment and his court dates so that we could throw a big ‘Josh is in prison for life party,’” she tells you, spitting out information a mile a minute. “There hadn’t been any movement for a few days, and I couldn’t figure out why, but I decided to check one more time before I went to bed tonight, and Josh’s dealer posted bail for him four days ago.”

“What?” You say. You heard her, heard every word she said in perfect clarity. But there had to be a mistake, right?

“Garcia, what do you have on the dealer? What has Josh been doing for the past four days?” Aaron asks, and you hear him, but you also… don’t. Everything sounds like you have cotton stuck inside your ears, or like you’re underwater. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

“That’s a trigger,” you mumble quietly, and you think that Aaron doesn’t hear you, he’s so focused on his conversation with Garcia that you try hopelessly to follow. He turns to you, after a moment, tucking his phone back into his pocket. 

“What did you say, doll?”  He asks you. 

“That’s a trigger. You know, how we say that serial killers have triggers that make them start killing people. This is probably a trigger to start killing,” you say, staring at a spot of dirt on the tile. Jack must have tracked it on his cleats, and Aaron couldn’t mop with his injury. You should really clean that. You needed to get the dirt off the floor. Mop, mop, where did Aaron keep the mop? You pulled it out of the closet and were headed for the stain when you felt Aaron’s hands come to rest on your shoulders, blocking your path. 

“Hon, what are you doing?’ He asks, trying to make eye contact with you, which you avoided. 

“The floor needs to be mopped.” You answer, emotionless. 

“Why don’t you come sit down, the floor can wait,” he says, trying to guide you towards the sofa. 

“Aaron, your knee! Go sit. Go, go. I just need to get the floor clean. Please just go sit and I can fix it. It’s okay. I got it.” You got more and more worked up as you continued to stare at the dirt, watching the stain grow as your vision blurred, as if the dirt were mocking you. 

“Hey, hey hey. Where’d you go, angel? Come back here with me, love. You’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He says, wrapping his arms around you. 

You’d never wished more that you believed him. 

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

[teaboot]

What are your favorite and most despised ship dynamics in literature

Ooooooooooooh this is gonna be a long list

FAVOURITE (relation)SHIP DYNAMICS:

1. We were both part of enemy factions and from the moment we met we absolutely hated each other, until by some circumstance we were forced to make a temporary truce, and now that we've worked together we've developed a sort of grudging mutual respect, but oh shit now the truce is over and I like you too much to kill you

2. I am significantly younger than you and have a MASSIVE hero-worship sort of crush on you, and you've noticed but keep acting like you haven't, and over time my crush has faded and now you're basically a parent/older sibling and oh my GOD it's embarrassing to think I ever liked you like that, ew ew ew ew ew, please nobody ever mention it again

3. You're a dumb punk idiot and I'm your parent now. Stop being a dumbass. Now let's cry, talk about your feelings, and develop a healthy found family dynamic that helps build you into an emotionally stable and happy adult that only sometimes commits crimes

4. You're a batshit crazy lunatic with the IQ of a coked-up MENSA genius, but you forgot to sleep three days in a row and ran into traffic, so I'm going to teach you some basic life skills and you're going to help me be more adventurous and together with our one collective brain cell we're going to pass as functional adults

5. My humongous and powerful significant other may appear to be a kind dumb bag of rocks, but they are full of gentle wisdom, and between the two of us it is I, the small one who appears very clever, who has to be held back from doing dumb impulsive bullshit 

6. We've had sex before and decided it wasn't our thing, so now we mostly just meet up in each other's apartments to eat snacks in our underwear and watch bad reality TV. Some of our new romantic partners have been possessive dicks about it, but those ones don't last. I wish you'd stop peeing with the door open, you fucking degenerate, I don't care that we've seen each other naked. Do you still have your key to my place?

7. Everyone keeps assuming we're dating, but we're basically siblings at this point. Who wants to commit arson?

8. We met in jail. We were there for very different reasons.

9. I'm a wild card with a sketchy past who secretly just wants to settle down with someone special. You're a play-it-by-the-books turbo nerd with a mile of repressed crazy just itching for an excuse to go feral. We're going to get married in Vegas

DESPISED (relation)SHIP DYNAMICS:

1. You're a gigantic asshole who keeps negging me and somehow it's working because you're pretty and I have no self esteem, and this would be an interesting plotline if it wasn't framed like it was a good thing.

2.  I am a man with important man things to do and you, a woman, have no greater dream than to have children and take care of me. If only I would settle down and be a father before you fall inexplicably I'll or are killed by my enemies irvine of my experiments. I'll remember you by a secret photo I hold onto and nothing else, because you had no independant hobbies or interests.

3. You're famous and you noticed me and now you're dating me after 5 minutes and you're perfect in every way and think I'm flawless, this is the author's cathartic fantasy and that's totally fine, it's just not my personal cup of tea

4. I'm a virginal waif who's never done a thing wrong in my life, nobody values me and I am bullied and mistreated by all, except you, handsome stranger, who's going to swoop in, fight all my battles for me, and whisk me away to a fantasy romance away from my horrible and wretched jealous family and snide, spiteful friends. This is still a totally valid fantasy, again, it's just not mine

5. You constantly mistreat me but I forgive you because I know deep down you mean well.

6. I'm in love with you forever but won't tell you till I'm literal seconds from death, and you'll forget me almost immediately.

7. We're kind and sweet and perfect for each other but we're going to die in about 5 seconds for shock value.

8. I'm in love with a blood relative and it's played out as sweet instead of super, super gross

9. We're both actively cheating on perfectly decent people, and it doesn't matter because of how in love we are

10. Isn't it fun how we both don't give a shit about goddamned anyone?

11. I was a cheerleader and you were the quarterback and we got married right after highschool and now we live in the suburbs with 2 kids and a labrador retriever, you work as a dentist and I'm a soccer mom with a book club and we're always happy and perfect and straight A school union bake sale vanilla bean store-bought icing sugar cupcakes and I'm actively vomiting

[oneirataxiahiraeth]

First Time Jitters

Pairings : SpencerReid x Fem!Reader

Warnings : unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, language

Summary : At a dinner party hosted by Rossi, the girls tells stories on the first times they’ve had to fake an orgasm. They all get intrigued by the readers silence and begin digging into her new relationship with Collague Spencer Reid and find out they haven’t even had sex together... yet.

Word Count : a little over 4K

“Are you kidding me? I’ve never felt anger like that in my life.” Emily laughed out, the rest of us entranced in her tales about the horrors of her sex life. “That’s was probably the first, but definitely not the last time I ever had to fake it.” She shrugged, and I felt my cheeks turn pink. We all sat around the fire pit at Rossi’s house after dinner, soaking in the warmth from the fire. Rossi and Hotch were inside, probably have a heart to heart about man troubles or something, and Reid was entertaining Henry and Jack showing them Magic’s tricks and ignoring any signs of the rest of the adults here.

“Well, sorry to you ladies but I can gladly say that none of my boo thangs ever had to worry about not finishing.” Morgan spoke proudly with a smile on his face. I could see on Garcia’s face how bad she wanted to make some inappropriate joke but she let it pass.

“Okay, I mean... Will is amazing. A totally sweetheart, but sometimes...” JJ groaned, leaving the rest up to our imaginations. If I remembered correctly she was actually the one who brought up the conversation. She mentioned something about her ‘mommy and daddy’ time last being a complete disaster that Will didn’t even know about.

I sat quietly listening to everyone tell their worst stories, laughing when they did and making some commentary from time to time. It was growing late and the only thing in the sky was a crescent moon that seemed to shine really bright. I was seconds away from passing out on Morgan’s shoulder as my attention suddenly was drawn to the fire. I should’ve know that eating so much pasta tonight would’ve led to a food induced coma.

“Awfully quiet tonight.” Morgan spoke, his shoulder moving my head up to get my attention. My eyes looked back up to the group whose eyes were all focused on me. I was fairly quiet tonight, but with the topic on hand I hadn’t needed to speak too much. I’ve had my fair shares of faking my orgasms with ex boyfriends, but it’s been a while since I last did anything sexual with anyone. Reid and I only began dating about 5 months ago, and while I was okay waiting for him, he just never seemed to be interested in doing anything like that. Besides the flirty comments, we never seemed to take it past the heated make out sessions whenever we could sneak them in.

“You’ve been staring off into space for like half the conversation.” Emily spoke, a bit of worry in her tone. “What’s up? No fun stories of boyfriends who couldn’t get you there?” She raised a brow and I gave a slow shrug. Of course I have stories, but none of them really worth mentioning.

“Oh no, I have tons.” I spoke, picking my head up off of Morgan’s shoulder. “No fun ones, though. None of my ex boyfriends have ever been able to get me close.” I spoke honestly. None of any of the guys I slept with in the past has ever been able to make me cum.

“Any stories of boy wonder over there?” Morgan teased and I shook my head.

“Not one.” I answered, hoping my answer would satisfy their need for gossip.

“Really?” Morgan looked surprised, looking back to the brown haired Doctor who was explained to the child how he did his last magic trick. “You’ve never had to fake it with him?” He scoffed. “He’s only had like one girlfriend before!” He wasn’t wrong. Spencer had expressed to me a few times about his lack of experience. Maybe that simple fact that he’s only ever had sex like maybe twice played a part in his abstinence. Maybe he just didn’t see me as someone he wanted to have sex with.

“Honestly,” I took in a deep breath as I realized that they were all staring back at me like I was the object of their affection. “We haven’t had-”

“Oh. My. God.” Garcia gasped, already knowing the end of my sentence. I rolled my eyes, as Morgan’s whole body shifted just to give me a look the read ‘are you really serious right now?’

“It’s not that big of a deal.” I shrug it off, minimizing the impact of the news. “Like you said, he’s had one girlfriend before. Maybe he’s just not ready yet.” I mention, relaxing my already tense body.

“It’s been 5 months.” Garcia adds.

"It's not that long of a time to be dating."

“You guys are around each other for almost like 24 hours a days every day of the week!” Emily scoffed. “You’re telling that you’ve never had sex with him before?” She asked and I shook my head .

“We don’t even talk about it really...”

Each of my team members remained silent, coming up with possible solutions to my ‘problem’. I could see it in there faces that they were just in shock. They all looked to each other, equally as confused and a bit uncomfortable as the next. Doubt flashed across their eyes as they all looked because me and the brown haired Doctor across the lawn.

“So...” Emily began “if you and Spencer haven’t had sex yet, when was the last time you did?” She asked, interrupting he silence.

“I don’t know like...” I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had sex with anyone. “A few years maybe?”

“A FEW YEARS?!” Garcia gasped loudly, gaining the attention of the doctor from across the field who only paid attention for a second before returning to the two boys.

“Oh my god, could you be any louder?” I laughed at her obvious dismay over my absent sex life.

“If you said anything over ‘a few years’ then yeah, I probably could be.” She nodded, still very troubled over the news.

“Look, We’re both pretty busy people outside of work and obviously weee not going to do it on the job-”

“Literally that’s a terrible excuse.” Garcia shook her head, as disappointment began to form on her face. Maybe they were right. We’ve been dating for 5 months but we’ve known each other way longer. It’s not like we were complete stranger still digging to get to know the other person.

“What’s a terrible excuse?” Spencer’s voice spoke from over my shoulder, causing me to jolt slightly. Everyone’s eyes immediately focused on him as he stood there confused and left out. I didn’t even have to give them a dirty look to tell them to keep our conversation under wraps, considering it was him we were talking about.

“Y/n was just telling us how she never read any of the Harry Potter books before.” Garcia spoke quickly, everyone nodding to agree with what she said. I cursed him out in my head as he moved around the couch and sat down next to me. I then shifted my weight from Morgan to Spencer, leaning my head on his shoulder. I tried to ignore the eyes but I couldn’t, each other them staring completely unbothered on how awkward it totally was.

“Y/n doesn’t read anything that doesn’t have hot vampires who sparkle in the sun.” Spencer commented, making my mouth drop. That’s was so untrue, I read other things too... I can’t name them off the top of my head but I know I do!

“Thats so-”

"very accurate?" he finished my sentence causinf my eyes to narrow even though i wasnt looking at him.

“Actually Spence, y/n was just telling us about a headache she had!” JJ spoke up, putting on a concern face that confused the hell out of me. When did I mention I had a headache? “She’s said her head was pulsing and it felt like her brain was throbbing?” My eyes widened and I realized what she was doing.

“Yeah,” Emily spoke, nodding her head as she picked up on the silent plan they just agreed upon. “I think she needs to get home, she might have hit her head or something earlier.” Emily frowned, as if she was really concerned for my health. They each had a look of evil on their faces which, to the blind eye, could easily be mistaken for care.

“Really? That’s does sound kind of bad, maybe we should get you to the ER? It might be a concussion...” Reid spoke, and my eyes widened even more.

“Oh no, she was check by the medics earlier! She might just have a migraine.” Morgan came quickly to my rescue. God knows what I’d have to do to talk Spencer out of taking me to the ER if he thought I was hurt or injured.

“You guys a such-” I stopped myself, watching the amusement grow on their faces as the waited for me to finish my sentence. “... such angels...” I grumbled, “always looking out for me.” I hummed, narrowing my eyes at the women on the couch across from me.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Spencer spoke, helping me stand from the couch even though I was perfectly fine.

Our fingers were intertwined as we bid farewell to our evil scheming friends. I let him lead the way back to the hous, solely so I could flick them off behind his back. Once we got close to the house, we were attacked with hugs and pleads not to leave by the touch gorgeous little boys who would just missed their uncle Spencer. After we said our goodbyes to Rossi and Hotch we headed back to his apartment. Only because I loved the smell of strong coffee and old books, and he was closer.

“You should go lay down, y/n/n. I can wake you up when it’s time to go?” He spoke sweetly, his hands on my hips as we entered his bed room. I smiled at his kindness, remembering how I promised I’d go to some late night movie with him this morning. It was showing in Russian and he was just itching to sit through 3 hours of it to translate it to me.

“I love you.” I hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, as my arm snaked around his neck in order to pull him into a hug. His movements stuttered just a bit before he returned the hug back to me.

“I love you.” He counter, squeezing me into him. “Now tell me, how many glasses have you had?” He teased.

“One.” I answered, laughing at the face he gave me when he pulled away. “Only one, I swear!” I defend myself with a smile. It wasn’t thag hard to get him to realize I was telling the truth, I wasn’t big on drinking and I’d be damned if I let myself get wine drunk.

“Y/N Y/L/N, showing affection to little old me?” He raised his eyebrows. “What did I ever do to deserve it?” He joked.

"Why wouldn’t I be affection towards my loving, sexy, intelligent, boyfriend?” I teased with a playfully frown.

"Have you met you?" He smiled from my response, his arms wrapping around me a bit tighter.

“You know... I like kissing you.” I spoke slowly, my eyes falling to his lips no matter how hard I tried to get them to stare into his sparkly green eyes which always seemed to stare right into my soul.

“I like kissing you too...” his cheeks turned pink from the compliment.

“Hugging you is pretty nice too...” I further my compliments, my voice turned sultry and smooth as I tried my best to be seductive. I never really pushed the idea of sex on him, I was too scared that he’d reject me and I’d ruin everything. Now I’m starting to think that maybe everyone was right? It’s been a long time since I had sex, and it’s probably been longer for him. And we’ve been dating for a while now... maybe now is the time? “Hugging you and kissing you is really nice.” I murmured as his lips pressed into mine once more.

“I enjoy hugging and kissing you too.” He smiled back, a bit confused but he didn’t seem to mind. His large hands moving up and down my back. Right now, in his mind I was probably just basking in him right now. In mine, I really wanted him to catch the hint that I needed him to fuck me.

Our lips pressed together again, this time sending tingles down my spine. We slowly moved back until I had Spencer on the bed, with me straddling him as our lips moved in sync. He smiled against my lips as his hands moved down to my thighs, gripping them a bit harder than usual. This was it. This was them position we ended up in every single time we made out, only this time I was hoping for somethingother than just a heated make out session. His tongue swiped at my bottom lips gaining instant access before his was in complete control.

Spencer William Red had me wrapped around his finger and didn’t even know it. It’s been 5 months, yet even before I had the privilege of being his girlfriend I would’ve done whatever he asked of me. I was and still am completely ready to be used at his disposal.

“Are you sure you’re not tired?” He mumbled against my lips, slowing the pace before things could get too heavy.

“Not at all.” I hummed, leaving one last peck on his lips. I debated on what to do for a few seconds as my eyes wondered over his beautiful face. “I- I uhm, I have a question.” My voice came out soft, and gentle which wasn’t usual. Whenever I spoke, usually it was with confidence, and had no problem talking about uncomfortable topics but this... this was a whole new world.

“What’s wrong?” I watched the content look on his face dropped into more of a frown.

“I-” my eyes got caught in his, sparkling from the dim light in his dark green painted room. “I don’t know...” I used my fingers to brush a piece of his hair before his ear. He was truly magnificent to look at, from his cheekbones to his perfect nose, everything about him was just... pretty.

“Talk to me.” He frowned further, his hands careful not to move further than where they already were.

“Do you not want to... like...” my eyes narrowed a bit watching his confusion take place. He was one of the brightest people I knew yet he was still so clueless. “...touch me?” I sounded like an insecure teenage right now, and I honestly didn’t care. This conversation could go a number of ways and I’d rather take everything right now that go another day or week or month thinking that sleeping with me was a repulsive idea to my own boyfriend.

“You- I- what?” His eyes widened, and I dropped my arms from around his neck. I would’ve gotten off of his lap, but his hands were gripping tightly on to my hips in a way that made me want to throw myself at him. “You mean like...?” Goddammit Spencer, how fucking clueless are you?

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” My face was just as soft as my tone. I could see the shock taking effect as his brain worked as quickly as it could to fully understand what was happening at the moment.

“I- uhm, I-“ he stumbled, and for a second I swore my heart broke into a thousand many pieces.

“You know... just forget it, it was a stupid question anyways-”

“No!” His voice came out strong and willful. “No I just- I wasn’t expecting that, I guess.” He explained and I nodded. “I-I- do want to... uhm... have a- sex with you, y/n.” His face was showing a variety of emotions and I’m sure mine was too. “ I just...”

“Don’t want to catch a disease?” I joked, which he apparently didn’t find very funny. I couldn’t help it though, it’s too awkward in here for my liking.

“I don’t want you-“ he stopped to think for a moment, “I don’t want you to be underwhelmed.” He explained, my mouth dropping at his confession. He was scared he wouldn’t be able to pleasure me? That’s was... horribly sweet of him. Not that I expected anything less from Spencer himself... that was just very unpredicted.

I wanted to tell him about all the past guys who never even got close to getting me off, but I don’t think that would make the situation any better. Honestly, right now, just the thought of him touching me could’ve got me off. Even if he couldn’t get me there, I’d fake it. I’d fake it really fucking good just for him because so am completely wrapped around his finger. Well, I wanted to be at least...

“I just want to be with you, Spence.” I spoke, watching the light smile form back to his lips. He was conflicted for a second before nodding his head. His light green sparkly eyes then turned dark, his pupils dilating as our faces grew closer until I could feel our breaths mixing together.

“I love you so fucking much.” He hummed, just before connecting our lips again. I felt the butterflies in my stomach going crazy as his hands moved to my face, pulling our lips together again.

He tasted like the white wine he enjoyed at dinner earlier. It was an odd choice but one I could definitely get behind, only if it was on his tongue. His signature scent of vanilla coffe and some expensive cologne swirled around in my nostrils driving me absolutely mad. My hips moved against the fabric of his pants, grinding against him releasing only a bit of tension from my own body. His hands working quickly to unbutton my jeans and blouse, exposing my black laced bra hiding underneath. I let out a tiny giggle as his back collided with the soft duvet, leaving me right on top of him, making it much easier to grind down on him.

His hands moved to my hips, guiding me right where he needed me. My hands traveled from his jaw all the way down his chest, unbuttoning what I could until I got to his belt. I gasped as my back suddenly hit the duvet, giggling again as I felt Spencer smile against my lips. Spencer struggles to carry a gun properly so, flipping us over was a very impressive move coming from him.

“Literally, just beautiful.” He mumbled on my lips before pulling away to look at me.

My cheeks burned a bright red, as I watched him study my own body. His body rested in between my legs, and his hands slowly traced over my skin. He sent me a sweet smile, and I thought of 100 jokes I could make right now but I figured it wasn’t the moment. I lift my hips as he tugged off my jeans and shirt tossing it somewhere across the room, ditching his own shirt. Now I was laying naked, waiting for him to touch me, well, everywhere. My eyes caught onto the faint six pack that’s always hidden under his own shirts, and I swear if I could I’d stare at it forever.

“Like what you see?” I teased, watching a smile spread to his lips as he rolled his eyes.

“Kinda, yeah.” He nodded, bringing his forehead down to rest on mine. His hands moved to my side, taking his heavy grip on them. My leg propped up on his side, giving him a bit more room to work.

“Kinda?” I raised an eyebrow at the reply and he shrugged. My breathing halted at the feeling of his hand playing at the band of me black panties.

“I’m sure I’d like it much better, if you had nothing on at all.” I felt my stomach go into full on cartwheel as his hand slipped under the band of my panties. His lips pressed a light kiss to my forehead, before he went down to my neck. The heat from his hand hovering above me sent the most explicit images to my head. Every time my hips bucked into his hands, his lips found a spot to suck and nip at earning light moans.

“Please Spence.” I whimper, feeling his lips curl into a smile against my neck. He pressed some more antagonizingly slow soft kisses as he made his way back to my lips. He hovered for a second before our lips were moving again, his lips muting the sounds of my moans from his finger circling around my clit.

“Shit.” He muttered against my lips, as he ran his finger up my soaked slit, teasing my entrance just enough to collect just juices on his fingers. My hips grind up into his hand, begging for more of him.

His fingers sped up as he massaged my clit, sending a deep tingle throughout my body. He pulled apart from our kiss, and I released a loud moan. His fingers already finding their way into me, curling to touched that right spot inside of me. My hands grip at the sheets and pillows as he begins to pump in and out of me. I felt the tension in my stomach tightening as he brought my closer to where I was so desperately needing to be. He left a trail of sweet kisses down my body until he reached the band of my panties.

“Oh fuck-” I moaned out, catching a glimpse of what he was doing to me in the body mirror across the room. I could see my panties pushed to the side as his fingers fucked into me faster by the minute. I could’ve came at the sight right there, but picked up on where I was looking. His head turned to the mirror watching as I squirm under he touched when he pushed into me a bit harder than before. He sent me a devious smirk before turning back to his current project. “Oh my fuck- right there Spence- god!” I moaned loudly as I felt his tongue lapping up my slick, playing with my clit as he sped the pace of his fingers. My back arched off the bed as the euphoric high of the orgasm I was about to reach shot through me.

“Cum for me, Angel.” He murmured against me, sending a vibration right to my clit. Without warning I spilled everything on his fingers. I let out another string of curses as he removed his fingers only to replace his digits with his tongue, sucking everything out of me.

“You taste even better than you look right now.” He hummed, as he sucked my juice from his fingers. I put on a lazy smile, as my arms wrapped right back around his neck. He brought his lips down to me, giving me a good taste of myself.

“So pretty damn good?” I joke, earning a tickle at my sides. “My turn?” I prepared myself to be flip over again but instead I was hold down in place by the brown haired man.

“Normally I wouldn’t object but I really want to be inside of you right now.” He commented, my eyes widened a big at his bluntness before nodding my head. He slipped off his boxers, pumping himself above me a few times. His tip grazed my clit twice earning a moan from the sensitive sensations. I could tell he was enjoying having me completely at his mercy. I was enjoying it too. “Are you Ready?” He asked and I nodded, eager to feel him inside of me.

Without another word he slid into me slowly until he bottomed out. I gasped at the stretch and sting I felt as he entered. I felt myself convulse around him, causing him to tense over me. He stayed buried in me, allowing me to adjust to his size. I had half the mind to make a joke about him being such a gentleman but I kept it to myself.

“You can move.” I he gave a nod, as he pulled out earning a light moan from my throat. For a split second a saw a flash of evil cross his eyes. There was no pretty Sparkles in his eyes, they were now fake and filled with lust as his eyes raked over me.

He slammed into me, hitting the exact spot where I needed him. He kept a fast pace, hiking my leg up to his side again hitting into me at a deeper angle. His lips attached to mine in a hungry manner, as if I was just there for his own comfort. My back was arched off the bed as I get the knot forming in my stomach threatening to come undone once more as I cried out multiple profanities in his kiss.

“Oh fuck, y/n.” He moaned out bringing me right to the edge, my walls clenching around him as he picked up the pace. I let out the loudest pornographic moan of his name as I came undone. He fucked me through the euphoria as his own thrust began to stutter.

Our breathing was heavy as he pulled out and released his load on my lower stomach. I gave him another lazy smile, seeing as I didn’t have the energy for much else. Once he as finish he collapsed on the bed next to me, pulling my body into his. I could hear his heart beat racing through his chest... or was that mine? I was sure to be 8 different types of soar in the morning, and right now I was on the verge of actually passing out.

“You’re incredible.” I breathed looking to my equally as fucked out boyfriend. His long strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, driving me slightly crazy.

“I don’t think we’re going to make that movie.” He laughed, making my smile grow.

I looked to the alarm set by the bed. “It’s only 11:30, we totally make it in time.” I spoke, remembering his excitement about this film earlier in the day.

“Yeah, but I have much better things to do actually.” He mentioned with a light shrug, brushing a few strand of hair from my own sweaty forehead.

“Like?”

“You.”

I smiled at the group of agents all hovering in the bullpen, probably talking about their weekends off. It was rare we ever got a whole weekend to ourselves, so whenever we did we made sure to take full advantage of it. I mean... I certainly did.

“Morning guys.” I smiled as is at down at my desk which Morgan for some reason thought was a chair.

“Morning sunshine!” The muscular clad man greeted me with a smile. “How waa your weekend?”

“It was really good actually.” I shrugged, noticing the expecting looks I recieved from the group. I noticed Penelope coming out from her office in the corner of my eye. She caught a quick glimpse of all of us, and her senses caught on quickly before she changes her route and made her way down with a giddy smile.

“You seem happy.” She walked up with a grin on her red painted lips. “You’re not a morning person... you never smile this early.” She stated. “Did you have sex?!” She spoke right to the point, taking me by surprise.

“I- uhm... what?”

“Yes? No? Did you at least talk to him about it?” She pushed, my cheeks turning red at the questions.

“Yeah, we did talk about the whole sex thing.” I gave in, knowing eventually they were going to find out everything on their own, either from me or Reid.

“How’d it go?” JJ asked, her and Emily catching onto the conver as the two of them moved to the front of my desk.

“Am I invited to the party this time?” Rossi spoke, as he walked down from his office, joining our group cluster.

“They talked about it!” Garcia cheered to him, and his face lit up as if her was actually proud of me.

“You did not tell Rossi!” I gasped

“Yeah we did, Hotch knows too.” Emily spoke, “now, what happened after you talked about it?!” She dismissed it, in hopes to get more information.

I sat in disbelief for a good few seconds before shaking my head. I knew they lived for the office gossip, I was the same way. Things like office gossip made us feel regular, considering the crazy and gore that came with the job. In all honestly, I hadn’t minded it all that much.

“It went well...” I shrugged

“And...?” Rossi spoke, waiting for more of the story.

“How well?” JJ asked, a smirk taking over her lips. They all stared intently as they waited for me to reply.

“I mean... we had sex.” I mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear. “...a lot”

“Seriously?!?” Garcia squealed.

“I- was it- was it good? How’d did it happen?” Emily asked, and I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks.

“Uhm...” I tried to think of less descriptive words than the ones popping into my head. “It was really good... like amazing actually.” I scoffed, laughing at the noises each of them made.

“So did you actually-”

“Yup.”

“And he’s the first person to ever make you-” I raise a brow at Morgan, putting slip finger to stop him mid sentence. He honestly looked in disbelief that Reid, of all people, could satisfy me after all these years.

“I said non of my ex boyfriends.” I clarified. I watched as Emily’s smile grew impressed, and Morgan and JJs jaws dropped at the confession. Garcia simply just squealed again, and I can’t even describe the look on Rossi’s face.

“Morning guys!” Reid walked in, a bright smile on his face chasing the rest of us to giggle at his brightness. He was usually in a good mood on mondays, but this was just a whole different type of mood. I had my ideas on why, but I didn’t have to say them out loud.

“Morning loverboy.” Morgan smiled at the new nickname. I haven’t seen him since early early this morning. We decided to part ways, mainly because anytime we looked at each other ended up in us having sex on whatever piece of furniture or appliance was nearest. Surprisingly he didn’t even mentioned a single thing about the about of germs and bacteria we could’ve spread either. Reid gave us all a wide smile before he walked up to my desk. He leaned down to height, placing a stern yet soft kiss to my lips. He usually went for the forehead or the nose, which all of us were aware of.

“How was your weekends?” He asked, looking to his friends happily.

“How was yours?” Garcia smirked, as she rest her elbow on dereks should. I felt my cheek glow hot again.

“It was... really good.”

“Oh we know.” Rossi mumbled, earning a dirty glare from me as my jaw dropped a little bit. The old man sent me a innocent smile a shrug, before Reid caught on.

“You know...” he spoke, giving me the same right lip smile he does when he really doesn’t know what to say.

“They know we had sex.” I spoke quickly, and his eyes widen a bit as he finally realized.

“Oh.” He spoke, fixing the satchel on his shoulder. Spencer was never very public with past romances, so I don’t know how he’d react to this. “I mean... I had sex with my girlfriend, what’s the big deal.” He shrugged, not seeming to mind too much. My eyes widened a bit, as I felt his arm snake around my waist pulling me into his side.

“You know what?” Rossi spoke, standing from his seat. “He’s right. He’s an adult, as are we. So stop acting like a bunch of children!” He scolded the group of adults hanging around us like a bunch of lost puppies. I smiled and nodded agreeing with the man. Reid gave him a thankful smile, before pressing another kiss to my cheek and going to his own desk.

Rossi stood in front of me as he watched the other back off, with eye rolls and huffs.

“Did you at least use protection?” Rossi teased, but for some reason thag caught my attention. Our attention. Sudden flashes from all the events that took place over these last few days flooded our minds at the exact same time. My body stiffened for a second before I grabbed the files stacked up on my desk to work from home. We hadn’t used a single condom all weekend. Everyone’s eyes were wide and I moved quickly, scrapping everything into my arms before I looked to Reid with an equally as fesrful look on his face.

“Text if you need anything.” I mumbled before practically running out of the office with Spencer close on my heels.

We were totally screwed

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Not yours.

summary: someone tries to force their way back to y/n's life and harry isn't having any of it.

word count: ----

based on these requests:

“also!! what about something angsty? maybe artemis gets hurt or something and harry is just in full on dad mode”

and 

“What about caleb seeing the trio on tabloids, so he gets slightly jealous and “want’s” back into Artemis’ life unexpectedly.”

and

“ could you write something for my shy little boy about Artemis real father finding out that harry adopted him and showing up at their house claiming that Artemis is his son and basically trying to claim his rights as a father, and harry gets REALLY protective, plsss i would love that concept”

and

“Can you do one in the shy little boy universe where Artemis's dad tries to come back in his life or something. Like he sees them and he's life 'give me a second chance' . I love your writing. Thanks”

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

November, 2019.

Park days were the best days for the Styles family. They didn’t get to have them as much as they’d like as they were always so busy, but today was an off day and Artemis was responsible for choosing what they were going to do. And of course he chose the park.

Y/N packed some snacks in a picnic basket while Harry took the job of dressing Artemis up. Obviously Artemis ended up way too dress up for just going to the park but it wasn’t a secret Harry was crazy about them wearing the same color or matching outfits to go out.

Harry had picked a pair of white shorts and paired it with a pastel yellow polo shirt he tucked into the shorts. Artemis looked adorable although Harry knew his son most likely get the clothes dirty as soon as they arrive to the park.

“Daddy, my nose itches.” Artemis tried to take off his glasses but Harry stopped him.

Last month they had an appointment with the ophthalmologist and Artemis had to change his glasses at his doctor's request. But Artemis wasn't happy with his new ones, he was always looking for an excuse to take them off or hiding them from his parents.

"Better?" Harry asked, using his fingers to scratch softly where Artemis pointed it itched. The much smaller boy nodded. "You need the glasses, sweetheart. Don't take them off."

"I like my old ones better, why can't i have those?"

"Those doesn't work for you anymore, monkey." He explained. "C'mon, let's put your shoes on." Harry knelt in front of him to watch how Artemis ties his sneakers up, he smiled when his son made it without a problem.

"I just put the things in the car, are you ready?" Y/N said when she saw them coming down the stairs.

"Yes! Let's go, let's go!" Artemis almost jumped from the lasts steps.

Artemis rambled the entire ride about all the fun things they’d do together once they got there, constantly asking if they were at the park already. When they arrived, Harry was surprised it wasn’t so full of people, considering it was the weekend. Y/N unfolded the blanket on the grass, laying the stuff they brought.

“Daddy, let’s play.” Artemis pulled from Harry’s arm, making the latest chuckle.

“Just be careful, please. We don’t want you to fall.” Y/N remained her son, who was too busy running around with his dad.

It was a beautiful day outside, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and the weather was perfect despite being in the middle of November. Harry had packed a Frisbee Artemis liked to use in their backyard and that’s what they were using to play.

Harry made sure to throw it softly at his son, not wanting the toy to hit him in the face. Artemis threw his hands in the air every time his daddy caught it.

Everything happened too fast, none of his parents could catch Artemis before he was face down on the grass. He had tried to throw the Frisbee higher but didn’t control his strength and he ended up on the floor.

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he ran towards the small child, his heart breaking as he heard his loud sobs. He picked him up from the grass and scooped him in his arms.

"Are you hurt? Where does it hurt, baby? Is it your arm?" He said, panic visible in his tone.

"He scraped his knees." Y/N said before cooing at Artemis, trying to calm him down. "Got some band aids for your knees, my love. It's okay." She took him in her arms and handed the band aids to Harry so he could put them on his boy's knees after cleaning the little blood that was there.

Caressing his hair softly, Y/N sat back down on the blanket, putting Artemis on her lap to wipe his tears off. "All better?" He nodded with a pout on his face.

Harry copied his son's pout, sitting next to them on the blanket. He didn't like seeing his love being upset, and he'd lie if he said he didn't feel a little guilty for him getting hurt.

"It's okay, accidents happen and sometimes we get hurt." Y/N said as if she could read Harry's thoughts. "What if we eat and then we can go for ice cream."

The smile reappeared on Artemis' face as he stood up from his mum's lap and cheered excitedly. Artemis ate whatever Y/N had packed for them, hurrying his parents so they could go get dessert.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked Harry at the end of the day when Artemis was falling asleep on his daddy's shoulder as he carried him back to the car. "You've been quiet since he fell."

"Just worried. Should we take him to ER?"

"For scraped knees? Don't think so. Harry, it's fine, really. He doesn't even remember he has them." She assured. "Tomorrow it will be all better."

"But he cried so loud." He furrowed as they reached the car and Y/N opened the door of the backseat so Harry could put him on his carseat. "I was worried he hurt his elbow or something."

"I guess it was more out of surprise. He wasn't expecting to fall facedown on the floor." Once everything and everyone were in the car, Harry started to drive back home. "Please don't beat yourself up for this. It was literally an accident."

"But i was playing with him."

"Yes, but you couldn't have prevented it from happen."

She put a hand on his thigh, not wanting him to feel any worse from something so small. Artemis doesn't have a lot of accidents as he is a calm boy who doesn't play sports or anything that requires running or jumping, but when they happen, he gets scared and that's normal. No kid likes to see blood coming out of them, even if it's only a little.

"As a parent the best you can do is stay calm during these situations. If you don't panic, then he doesn't either." She smiled at him.

Y/N loved how protective Harry was, his skills as a parent never failed to show in any situation. But he was still very new at it, and he couldn't help but want to put his boy in a little bubble so nothing bad would happen to him.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

A week later, Y/N was cooking dinner while Artemis was upstairs in the movie room watching a cooking show on Netflix. Lately he's been obsessed with those and could watch entire seasons if his parents let him.

Harry was out having a meeting with his team but promised to be back for dinner, so it was just the two of them in the house.

The buzzer sounded, alerting someone was at the other side of the gates. Y/N put down the knife she was holding and walked towards the little screen that allowed her to see who was there.

Her breathe hitched when she saw Caleb standing there. He was looking the other way but Y/N could recognize him anywhere. A frown appeared on her face as he hit the buzzer again. She stayed in her place, starting at the screen and hoping he'd turn around and leave.

But he didn't.

She was ready to go outside and tell him to leave but she heard the gates open before she could do so. The gates opening meant Harry was home.

And home he was. But he furrowed as soon as he saw a body standing there. He didn't recognize the man but he was pretty sure he's seem his face before.

He parked inside but didn't close again the gates as he returned outside. "Can i help you?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Is Y/N home?" The stranger asked, putting his hands inside of his pockets. "I need to speak to her."

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Doesn't matter, i need to see Y/N."

"Uh, it does matter, actually. Why is it so important to speak to my girlfriend?" Harry questioned again in a protective tone.

Before he could answer Harry's question, Y/N came out of the house, closing the door behind her before rushing towards the two man. She stood beside Harry, taking his hand in hers.

"What are you doing here, Caleb?" She asked and Harry's brain finally clicked. He looked so different from the only picture he's seen of him. "What do you want?"

"I need to see him, Y/N." Caleb said, almost in a demanding tone. Y/N looked up at Harry, who already had a deep, angry frown on his face. "I-I saw that video of you three at the park and... Y/N, i'm ready to meet my-"

"He's not your son." Harry barked angrily.

"Harry's right, Caleb. He's not yours in any way." She said sternly. "Besides, i bet it isn't the first video or picture you've seen of us, what could possibly make this one different?"

"I saw him getting hurt." He said defensively. "It.. awoke something in me. I want to be a father, Y/N."

"Then go ahead and get a family of your own because neither Artemis nor I have anything to do with you. Do i have to remind you, you signed the paper giving up your paternal rights?" Y/N started to get angry and Harry squeezed her hand.

"I was twenty-one, Y/N."

"So was I!" She now exclaimed.

"I think it's best if you leave." Harry spoke again, trying to control his anger before he punched that man straight on the face.

"And you are?" Caleb asked "Oh, right. You're the guy she replaced me with. Does my son calls you daddy too?"

"She didn't replace you, she just moved on with someone way better." He smirked. "And yes, my son calls me daddy, must hurt, right? Now get the fuck out of my property before i call the bloody cops."

Harry let go of Y/N's hand just to push Caleb out, not being able to hold his anger anymore. "If i ever see you close to my family, i'll fucking ruin you."

When Caleb was back on his car, Harry finally closed the gates and turned to see Y/N. "I'm sorry you had to see him, my love."

Y/N sighed. "I'm okay. I just... I hadn't seen him since he..." Her lip started trembling but she swallowed the tears. "Seeing his face brought back a lot of emotions."

"Couldn't imagine." Harry took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "But you won't see him anymore, over my dead body."

"Thank you."

Harry smiled softly at her, supping her face with his hands and pecking her lips. "Thank you for letting me be the one by your side."

"I wouldn't dream of having anyone else."

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs

[intergalactic-garbage]

things i would’ve loved to see in hoo:

- trans dude frank

- more homoerotic interactions between reyna and annabeth (think about it - both children of the war goddesses of their respective pantheons, their wits the sharpest of their camps; then cj is attacked by possesed leo and reyna thinks annabeth, whom she trusted and came to care for in those few moments they shared, betrayed her)

- jason “raised by wolves” grace - dude straight up lived with lupa’s pack for YEARS and got raised by them during his formative years (when going on how normal human memories, he wouldn’t have even remembered his mother - his earliest memories would have been of lupa), and yet we never see him tearing at a steak with his face? he’s never tapping his foot, wanting to scratch an itch with it? this would’ve been perfectly in line with riordan’s humor, he missed an opportunity

- rachel elizabeth dare and grover playing an actual role in the plot, not just being seen in that one scene in hoh. the different povs in chapers should’ve been played around with more - give us a pov of someone from the camps, or rachel/grover - the seven were only one part of the many moving elements in the plot and the dream sequences hardly made up for it

- romance being either tied directly into the plot like in pjo or eliminated completely; not seen as a plot device (eg. reyna considering getting involved with octavian when confronted with the possibility of him becoming praetor)

- a villain who’s more than literally just “ehehe i am earth. am bad. want to kill you. no i don’t have a particular reason”. pjo had luke which was so good because he spent the first book establishing how nice he is, how he’s an older brother to everyone at camp, how eager he’s to show you the ropes and young me knew he was going to turn but i had such a hard time believing it. the rest of the books don’t make things any easier because luke is plotting this horrible thing, but is it really horrible? until today people are fighting about whether he was right or not. and they have to stop him but he used to be their friend. they used to care about each other so much and that care doesn’t just go away when he betrays them. so they’re faced with one impossible choice and they know what they have to do but can they? anyways hoo wishes it was half as complex as pjo

- the leo/sammy doppleganger situation should have been expanded upon more beyond the exuse for the leo/hazel/frank love triangle. no i don’t know how. but it just makes it look like rick put it in there for funsies and never did anything with it. my mind keeps going back to a time travel plot but i know this is the riordanverse and We Don’t Do That Here

- octavian being more than “i created this character so fans could have someone to hate”

- the author not feeling so needed to write a blockbuster epic story like the avengers or whatever was in cinemas at that time. it was supposed to be a continuation of pjo, but instead of expanding upon the characters we had met in it, we barely saw any of them, they were forgotten, only the few main were placed in the spotlight, along with a bunch of new characters we’d never seen before. the focus was on the seven and a few other characters

- “the gods decided to not interact with mortals” was a stupid decision, especially considering the ending of tlo. percy asked the gods to be more present in their children’s lives, they, albeit reluctantly, accepted. and the next time we see them they remove themselves from their lives. the central conflict of the previous series had arised because nobody knew of the gods, what they were up to. there was no lexicon of rules, they just had to wait; and they grew tired of it. the gods should have been visiting them, awkwardly integrating themselves in their lives, not the exact opposite. not setting up for another demigod uprising

- i know this is just wishful thinking but. there should’ve been more of the riordanverse. yes i know there were already a bajilion other plot lines and we had the romans introduced but. i would’ve been fine with even just a little nod. or a character from a different pantheon appearing. this is all in the same universe as the huge chaos snake and the other, world snake and i just think it should’ve been expanded upon more

- frank’s firewood should have had. a role. you set up your character to be “the most powerful” of the seven, all extremely powerful protagonists, and then decide to ignore him for the last book and a half?

- by far one of the things that irritated me the most was how everyone survived. this was supposed to be a sequel series to a children’s series that had one of the main characters stab himself after realizing that this was the right thing to do. a daughter of the goddess of beauty got acid spit in her face. tlo is my favourite of the pjo books because it’s the climax, and it lays it down as it is - not as some heroic fight scene of good vs. evil, but people, being people. making choices for the ones they love and making mistakes because they don’t know what’s right. in boo, there’s an attempt at this “great last battle”, but if anything, this was undermined by the fact that nobody died. (i did like how leo coming back was framed, even if i’m not a terrible fan of caleo, nico feeling leo’s spirit alive, leo having a “surprise” chapter at the end.. goosebumps man) (though i suppose jason could’ve died right there and there. “to storm or fire” and everything)

- more hazel/nico getting confused by modern technology - i just think it would’ve been funny to see hazel hear about some event that happened between the 30s and present day and be like “you said what-” it’s good humor and also characterbuilding

- however, if we’re so horribly set on having romantic relationships, valdangelo is right there. nico can’t face his queerness. leo understands machines better than people. they both carry an immense sadness within, but it made them totally different people. and the dynamic? everything you could’ve wanted

[imkylotrash]

Regret Like A Riot

Pairing: Sam Harvey x reader

Request: Something like the girls are trying to set them up cause they're really close and like each other but are scared to admit it. Anonymous

A/N It went a little different then your request but I really hope you like it regardless. 

You promise yourself you’ll tell him if he just makes it through the night. If he just stays alive long enough for the Burned One to be killed, you’ll tell him everything. You’ll admit to why you always turn clumsy around him and can hardly formulate a sentence. You’ll admit to blushing even if you only catch sight of his back as he’s walking down the hallway. You’ll admit to everything in the morning if he just stays alive. And you truly do have every intention of telling him but then you see Musa holding his hand and taking away his pain. You see the way she looks at him and your heart cracks just slightly because you know you’ll never be able to compete with her. And frankly, you don’t want to compete with her. If she makes him happy, then you’re happy. That’s why you stay silent when morning arrives. You don’t say anything as you help him to his room or when he asks you to stay a while until he falls asleep. 

“I love you,” you whisper telling yourself that it counts even though he’s far away in his dreams. You spend a moment too long looking at him sleeping before you tiptoe to the door and exit his bedroom.

“You’re still here?” Caught in the act. Slowly you turn around to face Terra. 

“He was scared he might have nightmares so I stayed to make sure he fell asleep,” you explain not meeting her eyes at any point. The last thing you need right now is for Terra to know why you really stayed. As much as you love her, you also know that she’s a blabber mouth and not one to tell secrets too. 

“That was nice of you.” She’s too tired to notice anything it seems. 

“I lit the fireplace in there to keep him warm but someone should probably check on it in a few hours.” Terra stumbles slightly but manages to nod. 

“You must be exhausted. Get some sleep, I’ll make sure he’s alright.” You don’t have to be a mind fairy to feel her gratefulness. She hugs you before heading off to her own room. You’re guessing everyone will be asleep right now so you figure you should get some rest too. Just as you’re about to leave, you hear him scream. You’re by his side immediately clasping his hand in yours. 

“Are you okay? Should I get your dad?” He hugs you tightly trying to regain control of his breathing. It must’ve been a nightmare. 

“It came back,” he whimpers. You don’t have to ask what he means. It’s as fresh in your mind as it is in his. 

“I’m not going anywhere, okay? Just get some rest.” You pull over a chair and take his hand in yours once more. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep but this time you stay. Even though your entire body is screaming for rest, you force yourself to stay awake. You’ll sleep when you feel absolutely sure Sam is okay. But even with that conviction, there comes a point where your body just gives up. It’s night time when you do wake up. Sam is still sleeping but the fire has gone out making the room feel like a freezer. It’s almost second nature to you now when you wave your hand towards the ashes and create a fire. It takes four days before you leave the room. He asked you to stay and you’re not about to say no. On the fourth day, you return to your own room ready to stand under the shower until the warm water runs out but the girls have something else planned. 

“How long have you been dating Sam?” Musa asks. You make a sound that’s somewhere between laughing and choking. 

“I’m not dating Sam. We’re best friends, you know that.” This is not the time for to ask these questions. You’re exhausted and drained. All you want to do is clean up and then sleep for weeks. 

“Best friends care for each other, yeah. But you just spent the last couple of days glued to his side,” Stella chips in 

“He almost died. Terra’s been there too!” It’s a very weak argument considering Terra is his sister. Of course she’s going to be there. By the looks on their faces no one believes you. 

“Fine!” you exclaim ready to own up to your feelings if it means you can get some sleep, “I like Sam. I really really like him. But it’s never going to happen so what’s the point?” 

“What are you talking about? Sam literally never stops talking about you. He is most definitely in love with you,” Terra says. Pure exhaustion threatens to turn you into a weeping mess. 

“I saw the moment he shared with you, Musa. When you took his pain. I don’t want to ruin that for you.” 

“What moment? I helped him because I could. Because he’s my friend and so is Terra. I don’t have any feelings whatsoever for him.” It’s like a weight is lifted from your shoulders when you realise that there might be a chance for you. 

“If you won’t tell him, I will. You guys would be the cutest couple and we need something good,” Bloom smiles. The rest of the girls are quick to nod in agreement. 

“Terra?” you ask because you need to hear her say that it’s okay. You need to know that you’re not burning a bridge with her. You’ve known her and Sam for as long as you can remember. They’ve become your family. 

“Of course it’s okay! I’ve been shipping the two of you since we were ten.” You hug her tightly knowing you’ll never be able to explain to her how much it means that she thinks you’re good enough for Sam. 

“I have to go,” you mumble already heading out the door when Stella stops you. 

“You’re not about to confess your love for that boy looking like that. You’ve waited how many years? It can wait another hour.” And with that she whisks you into the bathroom along with the other girls. Exactly one hour later your hair is done, you have a very natural base of makeup on and Stella has picked out the perfect outfit. 

“Thank you for your help, girls.” You bring them in for a group hug and then you’re off. Down the hall and to the left. Once you’re in front his door, you hesitate. What if Terra has gotten this all wrong? But you promised yourself you’d tell him if you both made it through that night so you knock on the door and anxiously wait for him to open the door. 

“Hey. Miss me already?” he jokes but you’re too nervous to laugh. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks always so aware of your mood. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Or maybe it is. I guess it depends on a lot of things, but inherently there’s nothing wrong at the moment. I just-”

“You’re rambling. Spill it.” He drags you into his room and closes the door. You’ve been alone together in his room a million times before but now you’re painfully aware of how his shirt is hugging his body and how tempting it is to just rip it off him. 

“I like you.” 

“I like you too.” He doesn’t get it and you have no idea how to begin explaining. Your thoughts are coming and going too fast for you to form a plan for what you want to say. 

“Breathe,” he reminds you. Two deep breaths later and you feel slightly calmer. 

“When I say I like you, I don’t mean as a friend. I mean I really, truly care for you.” He stays quiet perhaps in shock. You never should’ve told him. 

“I’m going to go,” you say hoping for a quick exit but he stops you.

“You like me as more than a friend?” You’re not entirely sure why he needs you to why he needs to rub it in your face so you just nod. Again, he goes quiet but he’s blocking the door so there’s no way you can leave unless jumping out the window is an option. It feels like a good idea right about now. 

“Why?” His question brings you back to reality and away from the window. 

“Why? Because you’re you. And you’re pretty amazing.” He opens his mouth and closes it again. He repeats this action three times before something clicks inside of him. You see the change in his face as he leans down towards you. Is this really happening? You don’t have time to think when his lips connect with yours. Time stops, cue fireworks. You both jump when you accidentally start the fireplace. 

“Sorry. Too many positive feelings, I guess.” You blush deciding that your shoes are very interesting. 

“I really care about you too. I have for a long time. But you’re this badass fire fairy, I had no idea how to tell you.” 

“You like me?” He lifts your head and nods. You kiss him again revelling in the feeling of his body pressed against yours. He slowly backs you towards the bed and you make no objections. You’ve waited so long for this moment. 

“This should really go,” you whisper tugging at his shirt. He doesn’t need to be told twice. It’s gone before you can blink and seeing him with no shirt makes you not want to blink at all. 

“Have I ever mentioned you’re really hot?” He chuckles hugging you tightly. His skin is still slightly pink where the Burned One got him. You try to ignore the stabbing feeling in your heart when you think back to that night. You don’t know what you’d done if he hadn’t made it. You’re just about to pull off your shirt when the door burst open and five fairies fall through the opening. 

“Terra?” Sam asks darting over to pick up his shirt from the floor. 

“Oh my God!” Aisha laughs, “I knew we should’ve left them alone.” 

“Well, I wanted to know how it went. He’s my brother,” Terra defends herself trying to maintain at least some dignity. 

“By the looks of it, everything went really well.” Stella smirks looking from Sam to you. Looking at all of them, you feel infinitely grateful to have them in your life. These people have become your family. So even though you’re itching to get Sam alone, you don’t mind it when you all settle down on the floor to talk. The girls want to know every little detail and you try to give them as much as possible while still keeping just a few things private. Sam sneaks his arm around you and kisses the top of your head but other than that he just listens. You regret not telling him sooner. You hate to think how much time was waisted when you could’ve been cuddled up next to him like you are right now. 

“Later,” you whisper to Sam at one point when the other girls are distracted by the gossip. 

“Absolutely.” 

[honeymooneyy]

Missed You

When Sirius came back, Remus felt as if he was living in an alternative reality. Everything he had believed for the last decade was wrong. No, Sirius did not murder his best friends. No, Peter wasn't dead and he had been the one to murder James and Lily. No, Sirius wasn't going back to his childhood home.

And that's how Remus ended up hiding in his bedroom, trying to compose himself. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Sirius Black was sitting on his living room couch, watching the telly Remus had switched on in a panic.

Remus wasn't completely sure what the Order had expected him to do. But they had shipped him off to Remus, considering the two had been dating - completely disregarding the fact that it has been more than a decade since the two have even seen each other.

Taking another deep breath, Remus slipped out of his bedroom and to the living room where Sirius was sitting patiently. When he turned to look at Remus, his heart dropped. Sirius was here in his apartment, but at the same time, this man sitting in front of him wasn't Sirius.

Sure, he had the same dark hair and silvery eyes as his best friend, but the similarities ended there. His hair was matted and Remus knew that Sirius would have never let it get to that point if he had a choice. He cherished his hair, often claiming it to be his best feature. His eyes lacked that playful shine, instead just watching Remus with an empty stare, his dark circles looking painful. Just his whole demeanor had changed - gone was the confident boy whose personality took up the whole room. Instead sat a sad man whose happiness had been stripped of him.

Remus itched to grab a hold of his twitchy hands - no, just hold him in general. Instead he busied himself with a list of things to do.

"Are you hungry? I can make you some food before I leave to get you some clothes and toiletries. Shit, you don't even have any shoes, I'll get some, I don't think your shoe size changed, right? Merlin, how would you even know? Ignore me." Remus knew he was ranting, but he couldn't stop himself.

"I'm fine. I know this is asking a lot, but do you know what happened to my stuff?" Sirius glanced around the room, obviously noticing how much their once shared apartment had changed.

Remus cringed at his words, "I'm so sorry, I didn't- I don't have it. I thought you had- I didn't think you were coming back."

"S'okay, I shouldn't have expected you to keep it." Sirius' voice was still croaky and he had to clear his throat every couple minutes.

Without a word, Remus just turned for the kitchen and grabbed him a glass of water. When he handed it to Sirius, he ignored the way it sloshed onto his lap in his shaky hands or the way it dribbled down his chin when he drank it sloppily. When he wiped the back of his mouth with his jacket sleeve, Remus noticed the state of his clothes.

"Here, let's find you something better to wear," Remus began, turning to walk towards his room. "I don't have any of your old stuff, but I'm sure you can fit in mine."

Sirius followed him wordlessly. That's another thing Remus noticed in the past couple hours he had gotten Sirius back - he rarely spoke, only really talking when he needed to. But to be fair, he had just escaped Azkaban a couple weeks ago, and the past night or so had been tiring. With the dementors and Dumbledore and the Order, the poor man was still in the clothes he had been wearing since he escaped.

Opening up his closet, Remus sifted through his many sweaters for one that would be the most comfortable for Sirius. When he turned around with the softest one he could find and a pair of sweats, he was surprised to see him looking at the dresser. On top were a couple photo frames and knick-knacks littered around.

Sirius reached for one of the four of them, his fingers brushing over James' face and then his own. Upon realizing Remus was watching him, he flinched back, bringing his arm back to his side.

"It's okay, you can look at them," Remus assured gently. "I have tons more if you want to see?"

It had been easy to throw away Sirius' stuff back when he was consumed by anger and betrayal. But all the photos of their memories at Hogwarts? He couldn't even bring himself to look at them, instead stuffing them in a box and into the back of his closet.

"It's fine, I don't want to bother."

"Sirius. I don't mind, really." Remus handed him the clothes which he accepted gingerly. "You aren't bothering me. I wish there was more I could do."

Sirius just gave him a nod before glancing down at his clothes then at Remus, panic filling his face. Remus made the decision for him, heading towards the door and shutting it behind him. He released a sigh as it shut.

God, he missed his old Sirius.

He resented Azkaban for what they had done to him. Furthermore, he resented the Ministry. How do you let an innocent man rot in jail for so long? Was there really no way for anyone to have known it wasn't Sirius who did it? For god's sake, someone could've gone back with a time turner to see what happened. But internally, Remus was slapping himself for not knowing.

How could he have stood by and let his best friend - his lover - be accused of such a crime and go to jail? How could he have blindly believed that Sirius would actually betray them - his family.

Remus' thoughts were interrupted when Sirius emerged from the bedroom in the new clothes. When reaching Remus, he straightened his back a bit, clearly trying to mend the damage Azkaban had left. It broke Remus' heart.

"Would you like some tea before I leave?"

Sirius' eyes widened and his voice shook, "You're leaving?"

"Just to get you some clothes and stuff. I'll be back," Remus promised.

"It's okay, I don't need any right now. Please just stay?" Sirius pleaded and Remus knew he couldn't disagree. Especially not right now.

"Okay. I'll make us some tea then?"

Sirius nodded, trailing after him as he went to the kitchen to set a kettle on the stove. As Remus grabbed Sirius' favorite mug, his stomach dropped. Yes, he knew now that Sirius was innocent, but what was he doing these past few years? How could he have let himself keep Sirius' mug and who knows what?

Deep down, Remus knew the answer. He was always going to be in love with the Sirius he grew up with. When Sirius was locked away, Remus pushed away the memories of the Sirius he had spent the last couple years with - the war-struck Sirius. Not the one who pulled pranks with James or brought him chocolate frogs after full moons or the one who stayed up all night after Remus had a nightmare.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he set the little table with the tea, sugar, and a tiny pitcher of milk. Sirius sat across from him, pulling his cup towards him while Remus busied himself with adding sugar to his tea. When he glanced up, he realized Sirius was still sitting there, staring at the tea. 

“Sirius?” 

Sirius’ sorrowful eyes flickered up, and his voice was small, “It’s been thirteen years since I’ve had tea. I don’t even- I forgot how I take it.” 

“That’s okay, Padfoot, I remember,” Remus assured, the nickname rolling off his tongue. “Two sugars and a bit of milk.” 

“Two sugars and a bit of milk,” Sirius echoed, watching Remus stir it in. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry? You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, it’s just tea.” 

“I’m sorry I’m just here and you have to deal with me. I know I’m not the same.” Sirius’ voice sounded so dejected it pained Remus to see him like this. 

“I’m not dealing with you, Sirius. Did you forget that we’re best friends? It might’ve been thirteen years, but that doesn’t change anything. I’ll always care about you.” Remus couldn’t help himself, he rounded the table to pull Sirius up and into a hug. “I’d never be upset that you changed. It’s been more than a decade, and you were literally living in hell on earth.” 

Sirius melted into the hug, burrowing his head into the crook of Remus’ neck. His voice was muffled, but Remus had no problem hearing him, “It’s been so long.” 

Remus had to stop himself from pressing a kiss to his head. “I know.” 

“I hated it there, Remus, I hated it. All they do is feed on your happy memories, I’ve forgotten so much. I don’t even feel like myself, this isn’t Sirius. I lost Sirius so long ago.” His voice was breaking and he clutched the fabric of Remus’ shirt. “I missed you.” 

Remus just held him tighter as he felt the tears press against his skin. “I missed you more than anything. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I wish I had done something.” 

Sirius immediately pulled away, heat in his eyes. “No. It’s my fault, I switched Secret Keeper. If I hadn’t then James and Lily would’ve been alive, Harry could’ve- Merlin, poor Harry.” 

“How could it be your fault? It’s not your fault for trusting Peter, he was our friend. He was our best friend. We couldn’t have known.” Remus reached out to take Sirius’ hands in his own. “It’s no one’s fault but Peter’s.” 

He knew Sirius wanted to argue, but he just gave a nod. He fidgeted with Remus’ fingers before dropping them, returning back into his shell. Remus knew he couldn’t blame him. They had to take things slow. 

And for Sirius, Remus would do anything. 

[glacecakes]

Wild Hunt

Eugene isn't exactly well liked by his men, but when they want to induct him into their ranks, he's not going to complain! All he has to do is hunt down a beast that they prepared for this event specifically-

It's Varian. Eugene is accidentally hunting down Varian. Now the two have to survive the night together, while one of them is injured, against a squadron of Corona's best men.

Uh oh.

IM BACK! Kinda. Finals are due Tuesday and I wrote this instead of doing them but WHATEVER WHO CARES

This was mostly written on the Varian Hivemind server, with some lovely inputs from the folks on there, and I edited it and finished it before throwing it up here. So uh. Yea. Team Awesome my beloved

Life and Times and VVO will also be updated soon!!! I hope to have at least one if not both chapters done by the end of the month 

ANYWAY HERES 8K OF TEAM AWESOME ANGST

Being Captain of the Guards sure had its perks.

For one, he got to attend meetings with Rapunzel, finally. You'd think being the princess's future husband (probably) and Prince of the Dark Kingdom got him some recognition, but noblemen are jerks and elitists, so what can you do. Granted, the meetings were boring as all hell, but still, it felt like he was actually being respected and taken seriously. Something Rapunzel had been pushing for since the start. Personally, he wasn't all that sure he deserved it, but if she was happy, so was he.

Another was that the guards no longer gave him shit. That's not to say they did before... well, they did. Stan and Pete didn't, but every other guard called him Flynn Rider at least once or twice before begrudgingly accepting him as their teacher and now commander. He no longer had to worry about someone breathing down his back, waiting for him to slip up or commit a crime, eager to throw him back in prison.

Speaking of which...

He turned the corner to see a few guards, couldn't remember their names off the top of his head, forming a small circle around a corner. Their predatory grins barred down on whatever their target was, whichever poor soul had angered them. One of them had his hands on someone much shorter, so short he couldn't make them out beyond the red coats and gleaming gold... which could only mean it was one person.

"Don't get comfy, brat," the one hissed, pushing Varian up against the wall with an audible crack as a skull hit stone, no doubt hoisted up by a shirt collar. "One of these days the princess is gonna get sick of you, and when she does, we'll toss you back into your old cell... and we'll restart our favorite game. Ain't that a swell idea?" Varian hissed, a soft thunk of his boots scrambling for purchase against the wall.

"Hey!" Eugene snapped, having heard more than enough. "Put him down now ." His words were like fire, causing the other two to jump back and reveal the battered and bruised alchemist. His lip was split, a large scuff of dirt on his white shirt.

One of the guards snapped his head around, whacking the leader's shoulder to get his attention. The guard frowned. "Oh yea? Or what?"

Before his new position, he would've leapt into the fray, hackles raised, punching the lights out of these jerks, but now, he had a much better stance. "Or you're fired." He crossed his arms, the perfect picture of a guy in charge who knew how to keep his men in line.

Someone who was clearly not him.

The guard hummed. "You don't have the nerve." To emphasize his point, he shook Varian a little harder, the kid's toes barely scraping the floor and his hands gripping the soldier's wrists. Leather gloves creaked with how tight the pressure was.

But Eugene's glare didn't waver, hand itching for the sword at his hip, his anger radiating in waves. It was enough to get the other two to back off.

"Cmon, Aaron," one whispered. "It's not worth it."

"Yeah, it's not." Eugene agreed. "Put him down now, and I'll lighten your sentence to a week in the stables instead of a month."

Aaron's face turned sheet white, then bright red. With a huff, he dropped Varian to the ground, readjusting his gloves while Varian cried out on the floor.

"You got lucky this time, brat," he hissed.

Oh, he knew that type of speech. The Baron used it all the time. Anyone who got told that never lasted to the next month. "And all other times," he said. "Because if I see you go anywhere near him I'm taking you to the princess."

Aaron rolled his eyes, clearly uncaring, and stormed off with a huff, his buddies trailing after. No doubt they didn't like a criminal ordering them around. Or, ex-criminal. He'd have to keep an eye on them.

A sniffle broke Eugene's musings, the fog of satisfaction and annoyance quickly replaced by concern for his younger friend. Varian sat up, wincing as he did so. He rubbed his neck, feeling for any injuries and finding none except for his ruined collar. "Aw man," he mumbled.

Dad had fixed his collar for him that day, a proud smile on his face. "You need to look sharp for your first day on the job," he'd said, ruffling Varian's hair. They'd grown so much closer in the past few months, the man always seeing his son off. Today was the first day back after his kidnapping, after all; he'd spent a month recovering from a broken rib.

"It's not my first day, I've been working there for weeks," Varian had grumbled, but let him do it with a cheeky grin.

"First day of the week," Quirin rectified, placing a kiss to his baby's forehead.

A forehead now covered in dust and a bruise.

"Hey kid," Eugene offered a hand that Varian gladly took, stumbling a little as he was helped upright. "You ok? Nothing knocked outta place?"

"Just my pride," Varian joked, smile quickly fading. "I'm ok though, really. I'm used to it." He shrugged, hugging himself for comfort. Maybe he could pretend dad was here, hugging him... he always had the best hugs. Even when Varian was little, before they drifted apart. Back when he was just the weird magic kid. Back when his biggest worries were some older kids picking on him... Dad would always scoop him up into a big hug with flowery words and a book of Flynn Rider.

A warm hand wrapped around him, pulling him into a red chest. Eugene took his other hand to ruffle Varian's hair, earning a squawk of complaint.

"Just because you're used to it doesn't mean it's ok, you know that, right?" Silence followed. Gosh, this kid... say what you want about being an orphan, at least everyone around you was on the same boat. No place for bullies, nothing to bully about, when everyone was doing just as badly. "If they ever give you more trouble, you come to me, yeah?"

"Huh?" Confused blue eyes met warm brown.

Eugene smirked. "You say the words and I boot them out of the castle, goggles. Team Awesome looks out for each other."

"Oh," Varian mumbled, dazed. He'd never had a protector, never had anyone looking out for him. Cold sneers and flowery words, manipulation and secrets and ulterior motives, sure. His chest fluttered, a laugh escaping.

But then... the anxiety returned full force, maybe even stronger.

If those guys got fired because of him, good god, he could only imagine the fallout. Well, that's not true. He absolutely could. One time in prison a guard got fired for beating a cellmate within an inch of his life, and though the guy lived, the second he was out of prison he got jumped, or so the story goes. In all honesty it was probably an embellished truth, stretched out to frighten prisoners into silence, but god damn if it didn't work. No one ever complained about their beatings. A peep was all that was needed to spend a night in the infirmary for even worse injuries.

"No, no, it's fine," Varian flicked his wrist. The dial on his hand spun with each flick, the ticking grating. "Besides, we have work to do!"

"Oh, yea!" Eugene gasped. Right! The whole reason he came out to this part of the castle was to look for Varian specifically, after all.

"So, right, maintenance stuff." Varian waved his hand, motioning for Eugene to follow. "Here's what I had in mind..."

-

It was a week later, late at night, when Aaron approached him. The moon lay low in the sky, just bright enough to allow for vision without torchlight, but not bright enough that anything beyond shapes were clear. True to his word, the guard had been stationed on stable duty for the past several days, coming back to the barracks covered in dirt and angry every time.

So maybe Eugene had whispered to Max about him. Big deal.

Anyway, the captain was knee-deep in paperwork when Aaron knocked on his office door. "Sir," he said. "Finished up for the day, and I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" Eugene put his quill down hesitantly. Aaron was his first big show of power, the first punishment he'd dished. Everything else had been a variation of "keep doing what you're doing" as he settled into his new role. Who knew being in a position of power was so stressful?

(Everyone. Literally everyone.)

"I wanted to apologize for testing you, sir." The man shifted, eyes never meeting. His face was unreadable. "I wasn't sure you were going to be as..... sharp, as our previous captain. And I'm sorry for that."

"....Ok," Eugene said. "Thanks? I think?"

"So, I uh... wanted to do something for you." The man continues. "Me and a few others. It's sorta a ritual for guards. We didn’t do it before cuz of, yknow, Cassandra and stuff. And you're one of us now, so...?" He raised an eyebrow, a quiet invitation.

Oh boy.

Knowing these guys, it was probably something really stupid. Most of the guards were pretty nice, maybe a bit airheaded, but a lot of meatheads mostly. Big fans of machismo and showing their strength, boosting their ego, stuff like that. It's why none of them were fans of being run by a criminal. And no doubt Eugene would have to clean up their mess anyway, so he sighed deeply and rose from his seat. "Alright, what did you do now?"

Aaron placed a hand to his chest. "Why, sir, we did this out of the goodness of our heart! We're just welcoming you to the team!" He laughed a bit at that last part. He pointed out the door, leading his superior down the suspiciously empty barracks, and out into the courtyard.

About a dozen or so guards were outside, waiting. One of them was holding a horse's reins, and a crossbow.

"He's in!" Aaron called, and the guards all broke into cheers and raucous laughter.

"Yea, nice to see you guys too, uh. What am I... in?" Eugene asked, shifting awkwardly.

Aaron's smile widened. "It's just a fun little game, sir."

"The game is simple, really," Aaron slung an arm around Eugene's shoulder, pulling him close, not unlike how Lance does. But unlike his larger friend, this man is wiry, more of a weaselly kind of build, with stick thin arms that hide his muscle. "See, when someone new joins the guard, we test their skill by having them hunt down a beast in the nearby forest. Once they catch it, we all celebrate together! And welcome him into the ranks!" The guards all cheered, no doubt thrilled at the prospect.

"....right...." Eugene smiled uncomfortably, cheeks pulling and stretching, a puppet controlling the strings attached to his face. His stomach swirled, bouncing all over as he was passed around.

"But see, you're not just any guard, you're the Captain," Aaron's smile took an equally unpleasant demeanour. "So we figured we'd give you some extra... challenge." Outside of their little circle, no sounds could be heard. Not a peep from a cricket, or a cry from a bird, just dead silence in the surrounding glen. Just the crackle of torches, and the rustling of men.

"The beast for this occasion is small, smart, and fast. The goal is to catch it before it reaches the wall at Old Corona. All you gotta do is," he makes a noise with his mouth to emulate the crossbow. "Hit the target, and the rest of us will finish the job."

"Finish?" Eugene echoed.

The guards around him smiled with all of their teeth. "Well yea, we're not just gonna waste a perfectly good beast, are we?"

Eugene narrowed his eyes. If Rapunzel heard about this, no doubt she'd flip. "How will I know what I'm looking for? And why should I even approve of this?"

"Relax, sir," Aaron shook him, patting his chest with a heavy fist. "We're not just killing an innocent creature. It's always something that's been marked for slaughter, or is causing problems. And trust me," his voice deepened. "You'll know."

No horse was as good as Max, but that was probably for the best, what with his gut screaming about how this all felt so goddamn sketchy. "This isn't some trap where it turns out I'm the one being hunted, right? Cuz I don't want to shoot any of you with this," he joked, brandishing the crossbow.

"No, sir, not at all! In fact we'll be supporting you! No one makes the first shot until you do." He promised, patting the horse's flank. "Rest assured, no tricks here. Just a beast already marked for capture. Or recapture, in this case. We picked this one special for you."

"That sounds like it's supposed to be flattering but it really isn't."

Aaron shrugged. "Not my problem. Good luck!" With a smack to the horse, she cried out, spurring Eugene forward.

They rode through the Capital, out into Corona proper, lush with trees. At this time of night, no one would be about, not even thieves, laden in their straw beds and cots. The only things out right now are animals, or a beast, in this case. How is he supposed to know what he's looking for? What, is it going to be some giant thing with red eyes? No, Aaron said it was small, how the hell is he going to...

Then he hears it.

It's faint, almost like a windchime, but sure enough, the clanking of chains, and a small whimper. Somewhere through the trees there's a rustling, something moving. He can't make it out, the guards didn't give him a torch, but a blob of something rushes forward, the only thing he can make out the distinctive shine of metal, a chain reflecting in the moonlight.

Ah.

Eugene smirked, the rush of adrenaline from a chase beginning to pump through his veins. It'd been a while since an adventure without any stakes, without any daring challenges or risking death. The last time must've been... gosh, probably the Herz de Sonne misadventure? And even then he and Lance had just goofed off for the majority of it. Maybe the Spire? That one was much riskier but he and Rapunzel had been so outrageously drunk during that whole endeavor that it felt more like a fun jaunt.

He shook himself out of his reverie. Focus, Eugene! Fun or no, you're proving yourself to the guards! Show them that you're a worthy Captain beyond just barking orders and supporting the princess!

He spurred the horse forward, hooves thundering against the undergrowth and disturbing the leaves below. The beast let out a shriek, shrill and shaking, rushing forward. It weaved between trees, trying to throw Eugene off. Man, Aaron wasn't kidding about how fast it was. Even on horseback he couldn't keep up very well. The chains wrapped around the beast's legs screamed in complaint, clanking and clattering with each huff of its breath.

Eugene lowered the crossbow, sticking his tongue out. Steady... steady.... he fired.

The bolt whizzed through the air, lodging into a tree just a few feet away from its target. The beast flinched but didn't slow, scampering through the undergrowth, leaping over a fallen tree towards the river.

"Hyah!" He yelled, leading his horse over the log and splashing down into frigid waters. Water rushed past his horse's hooves, dulling the sound of chains, and when he looked around, the beast was gone.

Drat.

Eugene grumbled, reloading the crossbow before urging his horse onward. If this beast got away he'd never hear the end of it! They'd be all "Yes sir, Captain! We'll catch that criminal! As soon as you catch that beast!" And then they'd laugh and he'd moan and he'd have to go catch the criminal himself which is honestly not too far off from how it is already-

Anyway.

It took a few minutes to find it again, the beast trying to muffle it's movements by shuffling, but the metal song was too alluring to ignore. There was no time to waste. With the horse at a fast trot, quieter and steadier, he fired the bolt, this time getting much closer, barely whizzing past the silhouette and lodging into a tree trunk with a chunk of hair.

The creature cried out again, beginning to run and renew this dance of cat and mouse, but Eugene wouldn't have it. Dexterous fingers clasped a new bolt and quickly reloaded, giving barely a few seconds for the creature to try and run before firing again.

He didn't miss.

It was almost silent, the bolt's descent. Its tip gleamed in the moonlight alongside the chains keeping his prey in place, the one thing that slowed it and gave Eugene the upper hand. Whatever this beast was was quick, too quick, and if he lost it again, no doubt he'd never find it again. So when he aimed, he aimed down, and sure enough, the bolt embedded itself into the beast's calf, sending into stumbling.

It shrieked, screamed and sobbed in agony, noises bordering on almost human-like as it thrashed on the floor. The arrow stuck straight up, bright color on the end almost a beacon for the beast's location. Poor thing. He really should've just aimed for the head and put it out of its mercy, but this was the only way to ensure a clean shot.

Eugene slid off his horse, crouching low to the ground as he readied the final blow. But as he got nearer, as the moon hung lower in the sky, providing light through the filtering trees. He hesitated.

The beast was crawling, still trying to run, front legs pawing at the forest floor and clenching the leaves beneath with hands.

Hands...?

Eugene's stomach sank, lower and lower with each passing step, heart climbing higher and higher in his throat, the closer he got, the more ill he felt.

He saw the chains first. No, not chains like that on a cattle’s neck. Prison shackles, the kind wrapped around a prisoner's legs. And they were wrapped around legs, keeping strides from being too large.

And their torso.... clothed torso..... The beast heaved, each breath causing it to rise and fall with rapid panic.

The Captain's hands brushed against the tree with his other bolt embedded in it, eyes trailing onto it, and he froze.

Blue hair, stabbed by the bolt.

"No," he breathed. "No no no no no..." His boots picked up the pace, speed walking over to his catch, to his victim. Please, for the love of god, let him be wrong. Let this be a cruel prank, just a bear or deer dressed up to fool him... don't let it be...!

The creature heard him approach and sobbed, flipping itself over on shaking hands to get a better look at its assailant.

There, lightened by the moonlight, chest heaving, tears streaming down his face and blood oozing from his leg, was Varian.

"Varian....?" Eugene whispered, tears of his own budding when his friend whimpered, scooting back and away. With each step forward Varian scrambled back until his back hit a tree, at which point he curled into a ball. Like a frightened animal. Like a cornered beast.

Oh god... this whole time, he thought it was just one of the farm animals marked for slaughter, or a meddlesome woodland critter... he thought it was an animal destined for someone's table, so why not the guards'? Why on Earth did he agree to this? Was he so desperate for approval from his peers that he would simply shrug off the ringing alarm bells, put aside his gut instinct, and dive in blindly?

Yes, his mind whispered. You would, and you did.

"Hey, buddy," He leaned down, inching closer. "Varian, goggles, it's me. It's Team Awesome." His hand shook as he reached forward, but Varian flinched violently, causing his leg to spasm. The boy hiccuped, a hand clamping over his mouth to stifle his sobs. A small mercy came from the shadows of the night, with it too dark for details, Varian wouldn't see the blood rapidly soaking his pants.

The crossbow glinted, a sharp refraction bouncing off frightened blue eyes and causing him to wince. Eugene tossed the weapon away like it burned him.

"It's me, it's Eugene," he reassured, scooting closer bit by bit. "I'm here to help. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You did," Varian gasped, whole form shaking. "You did."

And that really was the crux of it, wasn't it? At the center of Eugene's self loathing was the spiral of guilt that you shot him, you shot the kid. He trusted you, and you shot him.

"I know," he rasped, trying to keep his voice level. "I did. I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." Varian sobbed, unfurling slightly if only to reach out for comfort. Even if this was the man who hurt him, who hunted him on horse and acted as the boogeyman straight out of nightmares, he was also Eugene, his friend, the one who stood up for him against Cass and Aaron, held his hand and promised he'd be there if Varian ever needed it. And god did he need him now.

Shaking, gloved hands connected in the middle, Eugene's grip gentle but grounding, a careful smile on his face. "That's it, bud. You're safe."

“Aw, ain’t that cute?”

Faster than a bullet, the smaller hand retracted, Varian’s eyes wide and horror-struck. In his attempt to comfort the boy, Eugene had let his guard down. He’d forgotten the final rule of the game.

No one moves until you make the first shot.

They were surrounded.

Aaron swaggered up to the duo with a grin, torch in hand. It flickered and sputtered, illuminating his blinding white grin amidst the darkness. The other guards formed a circle around them. Every other man carried a torch, while the rest had a weapon or tool or rope.

“The Captain has captured the beast! And in remarkable time, too.” Aaron simpered, waltzing up and gripping Varian’s cheeks in his hand. The boy snarled, teeth grit as he stared up at his bully.

From behind them came Aaron’s two buddies, the guards from before, each one wrapping an arm around Eugene’s shoulder, hauling him up and away.

For a moment, Eugene's insides were pure ice, frozen in time, unable to react despite the screaming in his mind as the puzzle pieces failed to connect. They jumbled and sloshed in his mind, the picture only half complete and the rest of the pieces strewn atop, obscuring the image from his view.

"Eugene...?" Varian whispered, thawing him.

"What have you done!?" He bellowed, anger hardening his voice. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" He strained against the guards.

"Just as we told you, sir!" Aaron mocked, forcing Varian to meet the Captain's gaze. "We captured a beast for you to hunt down! And now that you have," The grin was razor sharp, shark's fangs practically drenched in blood. "We'll dispose of it properly."

A guard from the circle threw a rope, the ends tied into a loop. Like a ring toss, the aim was true, ensnaring Varian's wrist and tightening when he pulled. Another guard followed suit, yanking the boy back and forth till his arms were spread eagle and unable to move.

Varian turned a stark white, paler than the moon that neared the horizon. He cried out, straining to try and escape, but another spasm from his leg paralyzed him. “N-no, please not again…!” He sobbed. “Let me go-!”

"Again!? Varian, what do you mean? VARIAN!" Eugene yelled. "VARIAN!"

The boy screwed his eyes shut, praying for the nightmare to end.

"LET HIM GO!" Eugene strained against the guards, lamenting once again, his own stupidity. He should've brought Max, or an actual weapon, like his sword, or something! He'd gone in totally blind, expecting that the guards were decent people and that this wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. Honestly, he should've known better! After everything he's seen and done, never leave the house without a concealed weapon! You were almost executed by half these assholes!

When he gets back, he's firing everyone except Stan and Pete.

A third rope flashed through the air, this time with a loop larger than the others. It latched itself onto Varian's neck, wrapping tight and close. His eyes snapped open in pure terror, mouth opening in shock. But before the boy could protest or scream, the rope was pulled taut, and his face turned an awful shade of purple. He coughed, thrashing in place with tears of fear and hypoxia trailing his cheeks.

"Aw, the beast is scared! Doesn't he know how all animals are slaughtered?" Aaron cooed, faux sympathy marring his features. "You know, don't you? You were raised on a farm, after all." His question went unanswered, Varian too busy rasping for breath to respond.

The man with the rope pulled harder, forcing Varian's face down into the dirt where his muffled cries barely caused the leaves beneath to move. A steel boot stomped onto his head, and the cries went still.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" Eugene bellowed, the protective instincts in his mind going haywire, overheating and exploding with pure rage and an intense need to save him, free him. He let this happen, if he had been smarter, stronger, if he hadn't shot him, hadn't let his guard down, hadn't shrugged and taken the guards' words at face value… “Oh relax, it'll be painless!” Aaron hummed, producing a knife from his belt. “The beast didn’t answer the question, but, I’m sure you can figure out how animals are killed after falling unconscious.” He jokingly slashed the dagger in the air above his throat, and Eugene saw red.

"YOU ARE SO FIRED!" He screeched at Aaron. "WHEN RAPUNZEL FINDS OUT-"

"Oh?" Aaron mocked, turning around and placing a hand to his chest daintily. "When the princess finds out? You're making her do all the heavy lifting?" He sauntered up to Eugene, hips swaying with each step till they were nose to nose. "This is your job, sir. You are in charge of keeping us in line, keeping the prisoners in their place."

"Varian is NOT a prisoner," Eugene hissed, meeting his gaze with pure fury. "He is a friend, my friend, my brother."

"Perhaps to Eugene Fitzherbert, but not a Captain of the Guard." Aaron shrugged.

Eugene lowered his head. For a brief moment, Aaron grinned victoriously. Now he's getting it.

"Too bad for you, I'm both."

Aaron's face fell, the cheerful facade falling into a brutal glower. "What does that mea-"

He was cut off when Eugene slammed his face into Aaron's, hitting the bastard's nose with a CRUNCH. He staggered back, and his buddies loosened their grip on Eugene to see if he's ok. It's all the advantage Eugene needed, quickly pushing them both off him and charging Aaron. His shoulder bowled into Aaron, sending him sprawling, and Eugene only stopped to grab the dagger he dropped before sprinting for Varian's crumpled form.

"Oh sun, please be ok, come on kid," Eugene chanted, slashing the rope around his neck. It leaves a brutal ring of red around his neck, as do the ones around his wrist when they're dispatched. There was no time to remove the chains, what with the remaining guards quickly regaining their senses and gearing up for a fight.

He lifted Varian up into his arms as if he were made of glass. Dark black hair lolled against the Captain's chest as he stood to his full height, glaring down at his employees, the hazers, the conspirators.

There was no hope of taking them all on, that much was clear. Charging into battle with hands full and armed only with a knife was stupid. He'd have to outrun them, play the game, and make it to Old Corona where Quirin could protect his son and he could get actual backup from loyal men.

Perhaps this was the true game, the true test of his worthiness.

Aaron snarled, staggering up while clutching his nose. "GET HIM!"

Eugene crouched, letting the first guard try and charge him before jumping out of the way at the last second. This he was used to, dodging men who wanted nothing more than to hurt and destroy what he held dear, making a run for it to the relative safety of the familiar. He fell into the old routine without too much difficulty, leaping over heads and ducking under blows. It helped that Varian barely weighed more than a few grapes, still a stick from his year in prison. He and the others had been hard at work trying to help him gain at the very least some muscle, though Varian was a big fan of skipping meals for science.

According to Quirin he's had that habit for a while, and right now it was a minor blessing.

Huh, he thought to himself as he dodged a crossbow bolt, taking off into the trees. Captain of the Guard isn't all that off from my usual life, just with some added benefits. Another arrow nearly took off his ear. Yea, same old stuff.

His feet pounded against the forest floor, dredging up leaves and dirt alike as he ran. There was no time to cover his tracks or be discreet, there was a whole battalion after him, so it wouldn't do much good anyway. But as his steps quickened, as Varian bounced up and down in his arms, the chains still rattling, the boy stirred, groaning in pain with each motion.

"Gene...?" He mumbled, muffled through the man’s coat.

"Hey kid," Eugene grinned down, not slowing for a second. "Glad to see you're ok. How's your throat?"

"On fire..." a weak hand pawed at his throat, rubbing the soreness away.

"Sorry about that, you're gonna be just fine, ok? It's all gonna be ok."

Varian hummed, eyes glossy and not fully there. His head fell back onto Eugene's chest, a soft smile full of love that he didn't deserve. "K. I trust you."

Varian fell back into an uneasy sleep after that, his breaths wheezing against Eugene, lips stained blue and face clammy. Anytime exhaustion tried to creep into his bones, tried to sneak into his soul and drain him to surrender, he looked down at Varian and his spirit would renew.

At some point, they were hiding behind a tree, keeping to the intense darkness. A few guards could be heard not too far off, their annoyed mutterings like an alarm bell, a siren's song of false security. Just as they passed, Varian coughed, clutching at the fabric for comfort. It was an ugly sound, weak and ragged, as if there was something coming up.

When he looked down, those blue lips were now stained red.

He picked up the pace after that.

But even he couldn't run forever, no matter how light Varian was or how determined he was. Inevitably he had to stop for water, hiding Varian behind a fallen tree and drinking from a stream whose sounds hid them from view.

He just finished his own drink when Varian stirred, and the Captain was quick to help Varian get some water of his own.

They sat by the stream for a bit, catching their breaths, Eugene from exertion, and Varian from strangulation.

It was here that Varian recounted his side of the story, tears dripping and mixing with the stream below him. "I was so scared..." he whispered, voice hoarse.

"I bet," Eugene soothed, running a thumb over Varian's palm. "What happened?"

"....I got jumped," his eyes turned downcast, shame coloring his features. "T-they grabbed me when I was gonna head home. Said that they wanted to make it up to me, to... to give me "a job befitting my talents"...." He sighed. "You can probably guess what that was, huh."

Eugene's ears burned. A flame simmered in his gut, nausea falling away as his free hand clenched at the leaves below him. "Yea. I can." He bit out.

For a moment, neither spoke, unsure of what to say. What could they say? The situation was insane, it was cruel, it was... it was…

Varian hacked, more blood than before coming up and splattering on the shackles that remained.

"Oh, let me get those," Eugene hissed. "I'm sorry, shit," He fumbled for his pockets, procuring a lock pick and making quick work of the shackles. "We gotta move. We can't let them find us." His hands hovered over the bolt, unsure. "Can I... I mean, you can't run with..."

Varian turned a shade of green, barely visible. “It’s stopping the blood from coming out.”

"Yea, good point, sorry." He coughed awkwardly, the stream bubbling and gurgling a simple melody.

"Why do... why do you keep apologizing?" Varian asked, not meeting Eugene's eye for a second.

"Wh- seriously?" He let out a bark of laughter, fading when Varian's face didn't change. "Kid, it's my fault you're in this mess! Sun above, I shot you. I said I'd keep you safe and I shot you." Anger swelled in his words, but Varian didn't flinch. He knew it wasn't directed at him. "Some Captain I am, I'm being chased by my own guys."

Varian bit his lip. "Did..." he hesitated to ask. If the answer wasn't what he was hoping for, he'd never recover. "Did you know it was me?"

"No!" Eugene's eyes widened. "No, I never would've agreed if I knew it was a person, let alone you!" He ran a hand through frazzled hair.

"So..." Varian hummed. "You shot me on accident, and then saved me. Again. Even when your men tried to convince you otherwise." Each sentence was slow, filled with Varian needed to take in a breath, but he met his friend's eyes this time. "I think that's a pretty good Captain."

Eugene blinked, then smiled. "Thanks, kid."

Dark voices shouted across the clearing, words incomprehensible. Varian jolted, hands flying up before doubling over hacking. Each cough shook his body so hard you’d think the boy was trembling with fright.

“Woah, easy,” Eugene’s hand rubbed over his back. “Deep breaths. Come on goggles. You got this.”

“You would think,” Varian rasped. “But I do not.”

Finally, with one final hack, his coughs ceased. Each gulp of air felt like heaven, or at least it did for the first few seconds. Then it was replaced by a searing hell, leaving him scrambling again.

God, what is the culprit?

As his breathing quieted, as the burn turned to a small simmer, Varian’s eyes trailed to the forest floor beneath him.

Stained with blood.

Varian’s eyes widened, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks as his entire world focused in on the blood. The dark blues of night left it hard to see, more a black shine than the vicious red, but there was no denying what it was.

“What-oooh,” Eugene hissed, grabbing Varian’s shoulders for support. Shit, this was bad. He made a mental list of symptoms for the inevitable doctor visit: raspy voice, struggling to breathe, coughing up blood... all signs pointed to the noose as the culprit. Whichever guard had tried to strangle Varian was getting fired and arrested.

No, screw it, all of them were.

“Focus on me, hair stripe,” he warned, shaking his brother slightly. “Are you ok to move?” All he got was a weedy moan.  “I’m taking that as a maybe.” With no preamble, he scooped his arms under Varian’s knees and back, pulling him into his arms as he stood in one fluid motion. “I’m gonna try and make a run for it, ok? We’re almost to your dad. I just need you to stay with me.”

Silence, and then a faint nod moving against his coat.

Each step sent vibrations up Eugene’s spine, tingling and thrumming in his veins and pounding in time with his heart. The sun would be rising soon, it had to be, with the dew that is forming at his feet.

At some point Varian readjusted, shifting so that he could see over their shoulders. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight, but at least he could keep an eye out.

And it’s a good thing he did, when he beats wildly at Eugene’s chest in a signal. The captain was about to duck behind a bush, but the forest’s edge is within sight! Maybe if they made a break for it...?

An arrow grazed his side.

The pain looped through his system, joining the adrenaline for a joyride through his mind and it sent him sprawling. Varian rolled out of his arms, collapsing at the forest’s edge.

Eugene groaned, raising his face with the sun to see Aaron’s smug grin glowing in the upcoming dawn.

“Well, look what I caught! A daddy beast and a baby beast!” He said.

Eugene gaped. “Could you be any creepier? Really, gotta go for the weirdest shit to say, don’t you?”

“Eh,” Aaron shrugged, crossbow in hand. He stepped past his boss (Er, ex boss), boots crunching on leaves and leaving nothing but dust in their wake. “I’m a weird guy, I guess.”

“Yea, a real weirdo. Kidnaps a teenager and has the captain hunt him for sport. A nice quirk, ain’t it!” Each word is angrier than before until he is spitting acid.

Aaron doesn’t even argue; he’s too caught up in his victory. Varian shook as he struggled to sit up, arms quivering with effort. Just as he raised his head his eyes met the gleaming tip of an arrow, aimed right between the eyes. “Say goodnight, kid. Don’t worry. I’ll make a fine trophy out of you. Hang your goggles over my mantle.”

“Would you knock it the fuck off!?” Eugene wheezed, scrambling up. His feet gave out near instantly, but he leapt forward, colliding with the guard and driving his aim up. The arrow whizzed overhead, harmlessly lodging into a tree.

“Varian, run!” Eugene yelled, still on top of the other.

“I CAN’T! What part of arrow in my leg don’t you get!?” Varian yelled, immediately followed by coughing.

Eugene went to answer, only for the butt of the crossbow to whack him in the face.

Aaron laughed, loud and manic, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. It was quickly stopped by a punch to his stomach from the furious man above him. If the others found them, it’d be game over. Literally.

Whether or not Eugene would be killed was unclear. While he didn’t always need Rapunzel to save him, her good graces granted him immunity from most local threats. But they’d definitely kill Varian, and that was the bigger concern to him.

Unfazed, Aaron slammed his skull into Eugene’s, sending him tearing back. The guard quickly flipped them, crossbow still in between.

“Face it,” Aaron snarled. “You’ll never be a true captain. You can’t control your men, can’t protect a kid, can’t even protect yourself. You just got the job because you saved the lost princess.”

“In my defense,” Eugene wheezed. “Your previous guard couldn’t do that either.” That only angered him more, digging the crossbow into Eugene’s Adam’s apple.

The two men wrestled briefly, Eugene finally getting a good grip on the crossbow, and kicking Aaron off of him. He scrambled to Varian, fully prepared to scoop him up and begin the dance again, just for a little longer, but Aaron just yelled out in anger, drawing a sword from his belt. As strong as Eugene was, he couldn’t outrun him with Varian in his arms. He would know, he trained his men to match him in speed and strength.

Varian moaned in pain. He had to do something, he couldn’t just sit here! Eugene had spent the whole night running around, working his ass off to keep him safe after the initial mistake, he couldn’t let him down...

But the arrow scraped against his bone, pain sending stars across his vision any time he stood…

The captain’s hands clenched down on wood, eyes calculating. He looked into Varian’s eyes, then down at his leg. Then up again. And down again. He hissed between teeth, kneeled down, and clenched his fist around the arrow. It sent a pulse of pain through Varian’s leg, the boy wincing, but understanding.

“Do it,” he hissed.

And yanked.

The pain was so sharp, so intense, that for a moment Varian was certain he was dead. There was no way anyone could survive with this much pain, he must surely be dead or dying. White hot agony stabbed into his leg, and he bit so hard on his lip he broke skin. It took everything in him not to scream.

Aaron laughed again, shadow blanketing them. Eugene turned to see him looming over them, sword above his head. “Say goodnight, Sir!” he shrieked.

Fwip!

Thunk!

The man’s grin vanished in an instant, replaced by sheer shock at the arrow sticking straight into his throat. Blood trickled down the wound, looking more like an impulse tracheotomy. Suddenly, he pitched forward, face hitting the forest floor with a sickening shick as the arrow went the rest of the way through his throat. There wasn’t even a struggle, no death rattles or cry of pain, just the sounds of a morning dove in the coming dawn.

Eugene’s shoulders slumped, and Varian leaned back into the cool grass.

“You doing alright there, Goggles?” Eugene called.

“My lungs are on fire, I can’t feel my legs and I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know I could sweat. I’d say I’m in the mood to die, but I literally just spent the whole night trying to prevent that.”

“...fair enough.”

-

The weeks that followed were, for lack of a better term, a total fucking nightmare.

After pulling themselves together, the brothers managed to hobble to Varian’s house in Old Corona, just in time to greet Quirin at the door. Imagine the poor man’s shock when he was headed out to work only to be greeted by his son’s blood and the captain’s exhaustion. Suffice to say, they got a proper tongue lashing the whole cart ride to Corona proper, the father fussing over them both while he rushed them to the infirmary. And then they had to get chewed out by Rapunzel, and Lance, and pretty much everyone else, despite their repeated insistence that it wasn’t their fault this time.

“What did you expect us to do? We were being hunted!” Eugene whined at Rapunzel while a nurse cleaned up a cut.

“Uh, I was being hunted. You were hunting me .” Varian hoarsely piped up from his own bed, leg propped up in a cast. He paused at the frantic stop motion Eugene was making, and the paling faces of his father and princess. “Oh. Was I. Not supposed to say that.”

“You’re not supposed to be talking,” Rapunzel chided lightly, though that was clearly not the problem. The doctor had been pretty quick to explain Varian’s breathing issues were just from the throat trauma, and would heal with time and supervision.

“I didn’t know! In my defense,” Eugene held up his hands as if to shield from Quirin’s murderous face, but if looks could kill he’d be a pile of bones. “I didn’t know.”

“How do you…” Quirin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to remind myself that you saved my son’s life and ignore the part where you endangered it in the first place.”

“Yes, please do,” He said, shifting under the glare.

And then came the paperwork.

Trying to figure out who among the guards was part of the hunt was hard enough, seeing as outside of Aaron and his cronies, no one was going to say a word. All they had to go off of were the men who saw Eugene off, and the ones who initially captured Varian. And since they hadn’t run into anyone else directly, no one could be properly accused and charged. But Eugene wasn’t going to take any chances, and therefore anyone who he saw at least once was fired, and if they wanted to dispute it they could come to him and explain why they were willing to throw his little brother to the wolves.

Suffice to say, no one did. Which left Eugene with only two thirds his original squadron. He spent a good while of his recovery vetting new recruits and creating incentives for others to try out, and while he was able to replenish his ranks, they weren’t nearly the same elite task force they’d started with. And considering the threats they faced on the regular, that was a serious problem.

It was after a long day of training and interviews that Eugene finally stumbled into the castle library, ready to destress with a nice long binge read of Flynn Rider. He grabbed a few books off the shelves as he walked, headed for his favorite couch and the cozy fireplace at its side, only to stop dead in his tracks.

Varian lay spread across the couch, foot propped up on the armrest as he glossed over some scientific text that Eugene had no hope of understanding. His eyes flitted up and down the page, clearly not actually reading and more just staring at the words.

“Hey,” Eugene called, and Varian barely reacted. “Oi, kid, that’s my spot. Scooch it.” “I got here first,” Varian said, not looking up for a second.

“Older brother gets first dibs.”

“Little brother gets his way.”

Oh he was gonna play it like that was he? Eugene smirked, plopping his books down at the floor before collapsing directly on top of Varian, making care to not crush the injured leg. Varian squawked in protest, limbs flailing.

“Get off! You’re heavy!” he yelled, trying to push him off. When that failed, he resorted to whacking at him.

“Never!” Eugene laughed. “Your little punches feel like flowers!”

“I have an iron deficiency!” Varian responded, cheeks red but smiling slightly. The captain finally stopped suffocating him, but didn’t get off, instead wiggling in close so they could share. “Mean,” Varian whined, a pout on his lips, but didn’t complain.

“Oh hush,” Eugene chided, grabbing a book from the floor. “You know you love me.”

Varian simply hummed, buck teeth peeking through a tiny grin. “So, what did you grab for today?”

“Ah, glad you asked!” Eugene held up the cover, which Varian oohed in appreciation. “One of the older ones, came out when I was your age.” He wrapped an arm around Varian, pulling his brother close, the warmth of his side and the fire combining to create a heavenly cocoon. “You want to read, or should I?”

“Your turn,” Varian responded, stifling a yawn.

The book creaked in protest, Eugene gazing down at his little brother with a smile. He leaned his cheek on the boy’s hair, deep voice dripping with fondness as he started to read.

Being Captain was fun, but being a brother was even better.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

My Favorite Smile

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (this one has a couple ✨swear words✨ in it lol. I don’t usually write them out, but sometimes you just gotta say what you mean)

Original Idea: X (Obsessed with this channel right now)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) 2,182 words... it’s a longer one again. I casually wrote this in, like, two hours. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

Holding his coffee and croissant, Jason looked around the crowded café for a place to sit. Every table was occupied by at least one person, and the rules of personal space in public said the couches were full, with one person sitting on either end.

His eyes fell on a table with a single occupant.

His heart stuttered to a stop. Wait… is that her? Damn, she looks good this time. He scoffed at himself. Who am I kidding? She looks good every time. Should I talk to her? Should I tell her? She didn’t believe me last time… and I don’t know if I can stand another lifetime without her… but last life we didn’t meet till I was almost fifty. I really wasn’t expecting to find her this early.

He straightened up and strode over to her table. “Excuse me, is it alright if I sit here? The café’s pretty crowded and the other tables are full.”

She looked up and Jason’s brain stopped working as she met his eyes. She was just as incredible as she always was. Thousands upon thousands of years, and he still never got over how beautiful she was. “Sure, go ahead,” she said with a smile before going back to her phone.

—

“I’m Jason, by the way,” the man said, sitting down.

I glanced back up and gave him my name in return.

He smiled. He had a handsome smile. Just looking at him… something tugged in the back of my mind. “That’s a pretty name,” he said.

My ears warmed and I looked away. “Thanks,” I muttered. I looked back at him. “Sorry if this sounds… weird—but have we met before?” I cringed but smiled. If we had…oh it’d be so embarrassing if I’d forgotten him. And a man as handsome as him—how could I have forgotten?

But a look of delight crossed his face, before being replaced by one of neutrality. “Not in this lifetime,” he replied.

“Kind of an odd way to word it,” I remarked before I could overthink whether that sounded really rude or not.

Jason’s ears turned red. “Well… yeah I guess so. Sorry.” He looked down at his coffee cup and croissant and chose to take a sip of his drink. After swallowing, he looked back up at me. “This is probably gonna sound really creepy, but please just hear me out for a few minutes. Do you believe in soulmates?”

I reached up and scratched an itch just behind my ear. “I mean… kind of? I think maybe they exist for some people, and other people could be matched equally well with multiple potential partners,” I said.

His shoulders slouched with a sigh of what might have been relief. “Thank goodness,” he said. He met my eyes. “Because… we’re soulmates. You and I. Sometimes—very rarely—two people are so destined to be together, that they’re reborn over and over to stay together throughout thousands of years’ worth of lifetimes. Sometimes we both remember, sometimes only one of us does. I don’t think there’s ever been a lifetime where neither of us remember. Besides the first, I guess. Back when we didn’t know we’d be reborn. We never look the same twice—different bodies, different backgrounds. But we always have the same soul.”

A reasonable person would have thought he was making up a really long, bad pickup line. But I stared at him with rapt attention. Like some missing puzzle piece I’d been looking for my entire life fell into place. It just sounded… right.

“How do we find each other, if we look different every time?”

He took a deep breath. “Well… when one or both of us remember, we can… kind of sense it? Kind of see it? Like, right now, I see you, but I also see every face of yours that I’ve seen across every lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes we don’t. Find each other, I mean. The distance between where we’re born or the timing of our rebirths keep us apart. But there’s only been… three of those, if I remember right.” He laughed. “So glad you believed me this time. It would have sucked if you got a restraining order—because those are a thing now—and I had to spend this life without you.”

I leaned forward, shoving my phone in my pocket. “Tell me more,” I said.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Um… I don’t know. The beginning? Our first life?”

He nodded. “Ancient Greece,” he said. “Like, really early in Ancient Greece’s history. The gods blessed us. Bound our souls for eternity. Your hair is actually the same color now as it was back then. Kind of a… nostalgic favorite of mine. You’re absolutely stunning every time I see you, but I have some favorites. You do too.”

I snickered. “Oh really? Like what?”

“Well… I always think you’re adorable with dimples or freckles. Green eyes are a favorite of mine too. And your current hair color is my favorite. There were also a few times where you were a little taller than me. Those were nice. You’re most comfortable to hug that way. But, without fail, every single lifetime I see your smile and I think, ‘That one. That one’s my new favorite.’” He chuckled. “As for you, you’ve told me that you like me best with brown eyes—even though you don’t like brown eyes normally. Um… you also like it when my hair is curly.” He gestured to his black hair, slightly curled, with two white curls arcing down the center of his forehead. “You told me… seven lifetimes ago? That you like me best with piercings and tattoos, but when I brought it up last lifetime you said even when I have them I still look like, and I quote, a ‘giant nerd.’”

We both laughed. Jason sighed and shook his head.

“Then again, you said that was your favorite during our pirate lifetime. And I can also say hot damn you looked good with tattoos and a big hat.”

I gasped out a laugh. “We were pirates?”

He laughed too. “Yeah. Well, you were. To start with, anyway. You and your crew were visiting my town and you, absolutely drunk, stumbled into my house. I was a carpenter that time. Thank the gods we both remembered that lifetime or I probably would have shot you. You spent half the night drunkenly blathering about how much you hated my hair when it was long the way it was and that you’d cut it off if I didn’t. The next morning, when you’d sobered up, you apologized. And I’d said it was fine. And… you asked me to come with you. I’ve spent dozens of lifetimes endlessly in love with you. So, like the lovesick fool I am and was, I said yes.

“It… was not a long lifetime. Pirates rarely made it to old age. We were both killed when a Royal Navy ship attacked us. I went down first. You told me in our next lifetime that you single-handedly killed half of that crew’s sailors in revenge even though you knew you’d see me again—because you’d been having so much fun that life and they ruined it. Eventually their captain killed you himself.” He took a bite of his croissant.

It was certainly a lot to take in. But everything he said was so vivid… I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination coming up with the images or… memories that had merely been locked away somewhere deep inside. The sea. The deck of a ship. An octopus tattoo on my left forearm, tentacles reaching to the back of my hand, a similar one on his tanned, scarred neck. Curly auburn hair, a scruffy beard. Brown leather coat and blood under his nails. Pierced ear and eyebrow. A tattoo of a mermaid with a face and wild hair that I knew must have been mine on his right thigh as we found alone time together in my cabin—a pile of leather clothes in a heap on the floor, topped by a big hat with a big feather.

I met his eyes again. “Tell me about another one.”

He smiled. “Well… there was another time I was a soldier. You remembered. I didn’t. I passed through your town on my way to report for duty, and the weather got bad. Your family owned a tavern that doubled as an inn. So, that was where I stayed. You didn’t tell me. I fell in love with you anyway. You would tell me stories and sing for me and make me food in private. When the weather improved, I went off to war and, miraculously, I survived. Even though I spent most of my time that fight thinking about you. I came back to your inn and asked you to marry me. You said yes. We were married soon after. I had to leave a lot. Fighting battles I didn’t care about. Eventually, I came home injured and dying. You held my hand and promised you’d see me soon. I thought you meant heaven or just said it to comfort me. You never told me we were endlessly-reborn soulmates.

“When I was about fifteen my next lifetime, all my memories came back. We both remembered that time, actually. When we ran into each other again we got into such a big argument about you not telling me. Literally picked up right where we left off. Two twenty-year-olds bickering like the old married couple we were. The life after I don’t remember is always a bit of a wild ride as all my memories come back. I imagine it’s similar for you. It’ll be similar for you.”

He reached across the table and took my hand. I squeezed his fingers. Our hands fit together perfectly. I wondered why I’d told him I liked him best with brown eyes when his blue eyes were absolutely gorgeous. “So… what now?” I asked.

He made a face. “Beginnings are always hard when one of us doesn’t remember. Because I have thousands of years of love for you, and you don’t even know me.” His fingers tightened around mine. “I’d like to take you out on a date, if you’ll let me.”

“Does it count as a first date?”

He smiled. It was a sad smile. “It can. It does for this life.”

“Have we… ever had children? Together?”

Jason regarded me thoughtfully. “We have,” he said. “But our bloodlines never last long. Usually we’re lucky to get great-grandchildren. We’re blessed to be together forever, but our families die off quickly. You speculated once that it’s the blessing’s attempt to make sure we’re not reborn into our own bloodline.”

“So we have no living descendants.”

“No. It’d be a little weird if we did. Like ‘Hey, kiddo, you’re our great-great-great-grandson! I know we’re younger than you but trust us!’” Jason laughed.

I could get drunk on that laugh. “I’d… I’d like to go on that date.”

He looked elated—and relieved. “Me too. I’d like to get to know you again.” He glanced around the crowded café. “What do you say we get out of here and go somewhere quiet and I can tell you more stories about our lives? You’ve always been the far superior storyteller, but I learned from the best.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here. I want to hear everything.”

He helped me to my feet. I gathered my jacket, cup, and phone. “Great. I can’t wait to tell you about the time I was a magician.”

I giggled. “My place or yours?”

“Mine. I have a memento from our most recent past life that I tracked down. I’d like you to have it.”

“What is it?”

Jason didn’t answer immediately. Just held my hand as we left the café. Gotham’s overcast autumn sky was chilly. “I… I want it to be a surprise but I’m also too excited to tell you.” He bit his lower lip, staring at me. “Gah. Fine. It’s your wedding ring. I found it at an antique shop not far from where our oldest niece lived. We didn’t have any kids, last life. We didn’t meet till I was forty-nine and you were forty-three. We both decided it was too late for kids. But I had a few nieces and nephews. Our oldest niece was in charge of our estate. We died in the eighties. But I found your ring. You can use it again, eventually, if you want. Or we can get you a new one.” His face reddened. “I don’t mean to presume. But I don’t know if I can live without you this lifetime after having you for such a short time last life.”

I squeezed his hand. “Let’s try that first date first. I feel this pull toward you I can’t explain, but we’ll build up to the soulmate thing. Okay?” I smiled at him.

—

Jason couldn’t help but stare at her. Those eyes, that stunning face. This one, he thought. This smile is my favorite.