#of the car and then gave him her phone and it's that method of parenting the same parenting I was raised on if you will

[owenryder]

MERROCK TASK #19 THE TINIEST DETAILS

do they drive? if so, do they enjoy driving or do they hate it? or somewhere in between? Driving is one of Ryder's favorite things to do, period. He likes the adrenaline and absolutely drives a little bit too fast.

if they drive, where is their favorite location to drive to? Anywhere and everywhere. He's not going to be picky about locations, he just wants to hit the open road and go.

if they drive, do they own a vehicle? if so, what make and model? Ryder drives a 2021 python green Porsche 718 Spyder that was a gift to him from his mother's boyfriend, although... a little birdy called him from the Bahamas to talk about potential 30th birthday presents, so a new car may be around the corner.

what bumper stickers do they have on their car? None. That's not even funny.

what paintings and/or posters are on their walls? In his own room, Ryder has a combination of art and posters, from stuff that he's done, to things he's collected from his favorite artists. In the house itself, it sort of depends on what his housemates want to see, they grab things as they see fit!

what is a song they listen to with the windows rolled down, turned all the way up, on the highway? Something loud with a lot of bass, that way everyone turns their head and thinks, 'who is this asshole?'

is there an artform they’ve always wanted to try (glassblowing, woodworking, painting, ect) but never have? if so, what about that artform speaks to them? Pretty much every art form, for no other reason than just to say that he gave it a shot. Ryder loves art, he lives, breathes, and sleeps art, so of course he wants to try as much of it as possible. He wishes he was a little better at sculpting, and has plans to try to get into that at some point.

what time of day do they usually start getting sleepy? Late, like it wouldn't be shocking to see Ryder wide awake at two in the morning, to be honest? He tries to sleep at a normal hour, but it doesn't always happen!

do they catch a second wind? if so, what is their method for catching it (napping, drinking coffee, exercising, ect)? Oh, just mainline the energy drinks at that point. Napping, coffee and exercising are for the weak, but Redbull gives you wings.

are they a nap person? if so, how long are their naps? do they set a 20 minute timer and wake up before it? or set no timer and wake up in the middle of the night? Ryder is a whatever he wants to be person, and that does include napping, yes. He'll curl up for twenty minutes or two hours, it just depends on how tired he is and what he has going on that day.

what is the most obscure book they’ve read? ... like he has time to read? He mostly reads a lot of books on art history or about different celebrities that he likes. Those can be weird.

what is a book that interested them so much they took it with them to the bathroom? None. He uses his phone while he's dropping a deuce, like an average American citizen.

what did the air smell like during their childhood? That's a really hard question to answer, since Ryder didn't really have one place that he called home. When he was in Boston, it always smelled like perfume to him, because there was no shortage of people wandering around his home in expensive perfume.

what is a core memory from their childhood that they look back on fondly and for comfort? Despite the fact that his parents weren't really... well, parents, Ryder still had good adults in his life. He loved the nanny that he had, and thought of her as his mother. One time, she packed up his backpack, left his parents a note, and headed out to the Boston aquarium, where they spent the entire day just doing normal people things. He even had pizza from a small pizza shop and got a frozen drink from McDonald's.

when was the last time they were held, and truly held, for several minutes? who was it with? Oh, it's definitely been a while. Ryder's not super into being affectionate, to begin with. Thanks, mom and dad! Great job!

do they meditate? if not, have they ever tried? how did it go? Nnno, he doesn't really have the patience for it. He's tried, sure, but it's not something he gets much out of.

how many pennies and quarters do they have in their couch? $2.35, total. (He doesn't know, but there probably is quite a bit.)

how dusty is their home? spotless, lived-in, dust bunny haven? It's lived-in, but they do a fairly good job of keeping it clean. And like once every few months, Ryder hires a cleaner to come in to go over everything with a fine tooth comb, anyway.

what is their favorite chocolate bar? Reese's peanut butter cup.

do they like their brownies fudgy or cakey? or not at all, and only want the crusts? Probably a little more on the fudgy side, but it's a brownie, it's going to be good regardless.

what's that one weird food combination that everyone else thinks is gross but they think is delicious? He's done that thing with the vanilla ice cream and the olive oil, and he can confirm that it's pretty good... but he fully knows that a lot of people look at you with two heads when they see you mix the ingredients together.

where do they put their shoes when they come home from a long day? He will quite literally throw them up onto the landing of his bedroom, most of the time.

after a vacation, do they immediately unpack or slowly retrieve items from their suitcase until its empty? Slowly retrieve items from the suitcase. He's pretty sure his suitcase is thrown into the back of his closet with things still untouched from New Orleans. And when he packed for New Orleans, there were things in there from the last trip that he took.

how often do they do self-reflection? More than people would imagine, but probably less than he should.

are they more afraid of being alone with themselves or with others? Being alone with himself.

have they ever had a near death experience? if so, what was it? There were a few close calls when he was driving -- he has a tendency to get a lead foot and not really pay attention to the speedometer, but he's always been careful with driving well, too. Other than that, not really.

out of all the subjects in school, which was their favorite? which one did they excel at? Ryder never attended regular school, so there were probably subjects he missed out on, but he was pretty good at English and writing. Obviously excelled at anything to do with art, though -- even went to college for it!

how many alarms do they have set on their phone? what is their alarm ringtone? One, but he has unlimited snoozes for it. So that means he can still stay up way, way later than he's supposed to. As for the sound, he normally changes it based on his mood and what he's doing with his phone at the moment. Get bored? Change sounds. It's how his mind works.

do they fart in front of other people? or do they hide their farts? Yeah. Why bother hiding a human body's actions?

do they have to see any specialist doctors? if so, do they have a strong bond with their doctor or do they dislike them? No, not really. Ryder's never been a big doctor person, so he doesn't really like anyone he sees.

what is their favorite seasoning? Well, he's from the east coast, where seafood reigns supreme. It's, of course, going to be old bay.

what is their favorite sauce? Hot sauce.

how spicy is spicy for them? (pepper, jalepeno, ghost pepper, ect) Over the years, Ryder's tried a lot of spicy foods, and he's eaten all the peppers, done those ridiculous chips, you name it. But that doesn't mean he's done them well -- he likes to think that he can handle more than he can.

how long do they let the dishes go unwashed? Until Jayla and Iris sigh loud enough that it annoys him and he gets up, off of the couch to wash them. Obviously.

how much laundry do they accumulate before doing it? Too much. He's absolutely bought socks and underwear to avoid doing laundry, it's just a pain to haul it all down his little staircase and get it to where it needs to go.

what shampoo, conditioner, cologne/perfume and deodorant do they use? Shampoo and conditioner change. Sometimes he gets sent things in care packages from his mom, though, and he uses those a lot. Right now, he washes and conditions with Oribe. Cologne tends to be Gucci Guilty or Versace, which he... mostly bought for the bottles that he likes. Deodorant is Gucci Guilty, too. He's ridiculous.

[pointed-beetle]

Three's a Crowd (Stu Macher x Murderer!Male Reader x Billy Loomis)

Word Count: 2507

Summary: After slipping through the men's fingers far too many times, Billy gave up on trying to make you one of Ghostface's victims. Although unknown to the men that start slowly taking an interest in you and your habits, you're aware of their tricks due to your own little hobby.

Warnings: !!!Drugging!!! !!!Descriptions of symptoms from being drugged!!! from the marked yellow sentence will begin the trigger for the rest of the fic, swearing, no use of Y/N

A long awaited Part Two is now out!

You were known for being hard to contact when you got into your car to drive home. The chances of you picking up the phone might as well have been the equivalent of sending a bird with a message wrapped around its leg.

Of course, they knew the number to your landline, and they had called it numerous times at one point, filling the answering machine with threats and even pleads to pick up. You cleared the device without listening to a single message.

Billy had been frustrated by it, nearly breaking his mobile phone by squeezing it in his hand, clenching his jaw and letting out a hot, irritated huff of breath; everything usually always went the way that he planned.

Stu, however, found it excellent, he loved challenges, and the fact that you were a mystery as soon as the bell rang was exciting.

Following you home was already frustrating with the new curfew in place. A murderer had been making sweeps through the town. Affectionately called the “Date Night Killer” by the newsmen and women that stood outside victims homes, trying to get glimpses of the aftermath of the horrible crimes.

It was infuriating when the home you stayed at and the roads you took changed every time you turned away from the school.

Billy busted up his knuckles punching his steering wheel, when a girl with long brown hair and a blinding smile opened the door and invited you in.

They had been at it for months, and he was exhausted. It was like you knew what they were up to. After you had stayed at your friend’s place until Monday and left with a fresh pair of clothes on, he had to call it quits; they would figure out the location to your home some other way.

You were never friendly to them in school. Even though you were very friendly with Tatum, you stayed very far away from the boys, but after Casey and Steve had been found dead by Casey’s parents, you were quick to cut contact with Tatum, fully isolating yourself from the group at the school and glaring at the boys when they were talking outside of a classroom.

Tatum sobbed over the loss of your friendship, enraged that you had broken off a four-year-long company because she had started to date Stu after Casey’s death. You should’ve been happy for her! You were being selfish.

Every time Billy caught eyes with you, he would sneer at you, and you would roll your eyes back at him. He thought you were being rude. But, from what he knew, you were just being an asshole because you could. Not because you were aware of who they were even before the news had hit.

Though Billy and Stu thought that there was no way you knew what they were up to, it would be astronomical.

The irony.

You found it excellent in an idiotic way, over how they hadn’t picked up on why you were so keen to their tactics, so aware of what they were trying to do when stalking you, who was trying to call you and keep you on the line long enough to find your home.

Casey and Steve’s death had been such the talk of the town because the MO was so different from the Date Night Killer. Their method was so clean and detailed, while this one was messy, thought out but clearly meant to send some sort of message.

People were terrified over the prospect of two murderers being in their sleepy little town. The likelihood of this scenario was so small that it was almost numbing. Indeed, some of them had to of been fake.

For a while, you thought Stu had known, with how he would stare at you and flash smiles at you when you would glare at him and sneer at him to try to scare him away.

Stu found you fascinating. You were so unique from everyone else. In fact, you kind of reminded him of Billy quite a bit, minus the apathetic and sour attitude that he usually sported.

You were calculated and closed off, but the people you did talk to, your friends, got to see you smile and laugh. So he couldn’t help but stare when he caught you chatting a girl up, leaning her into a locker, smiling and laughing with her. He found you kind of pretty if he were being honest.

The killer found your mannerisms very familiar and comfortable, like he could go up to you and talk to you, and he knew exactly what you would respond with.

So then, why were you so adverse to their group? You would fit in just fine. It was clear to him from Tatum’s stories about you that you would be able to slip in, and they would have no trouble adjusting you to fit in with them.

What was your fucking deal?

He had nervously brought it up to Billy one time, admitting that you found you much more entertaining than he originally planned, swallowing thickly and saying that he would probably have a hard time playing their usual cat and mouse game from now on.

Of course, Billy was pissed, but this was Stu. He needed to think a little more rationally than he did with Sidney instead of just cutting through the words and making him feel horrible for even voicing his feelings. A frustrated sigh escapes him as he stops Stu from rambling on, leaning against the nearest object to try to collect his thoughts before starting slowly at first, his eyebrows knitted together.

“I... Agree, that they have...” He sighs, rubbing at the corners of his eyes before pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyelids so hard he sees fireworks, “Interesting traits that make me want to understand more outside of the usual hunt.”

Tatum had brought up the suggestion of a double date around lunchtime, barely touching her food as she explained the plans she had vaguely gone over with Sid to see if everyone would have fun, bouncing in her seat and grinning when the other three agreed.

Though when the final bell rang, and they were walking down the hallway towards one of the exit doors, Billy let out a frustrated barking laugh when Tatum caught sight of you and quickly ran to snatch up your wrist.

She sucked at keeping up with her plans.

A frustrated almost growl escapes you as you turn around to face Tatum, pulling off your headphones and pausing the Walkman that sat heavily at the side of your bag, wetting your lips and glaring so hard at her Stu thought the poor girl would catch on fire.

She had finally caught you after weeks of attempts and only ended in harsh cold shoulders, causing her to cry a few times, and she had many things to say to you. But, before she even began, you carefully peeled her hand from your shirt, eyeing Stu, who was clearly going to listen in to the whole conversation but pretend like he was invested in the one that Billy and Sidney were having.

Sid was trying to distract Billy from his growing irritation.

Tatum was heartbroken, to say the least. You were a great friend to her, and seeing you pretend like you hadn’t even known her for the past few years had hurt, to say the least. She sometimes found herself staring up at her ceiling in distraught, wondering if she was the one in the wrong and if she should apologise to you.

Of course, she was a little strong-headed, and she expected an apology from you, brushing her off to the side because one guy was petty to her. You could’ve gotten over whatever pathetic annoying thoughts you had over Stu.

“I just want an apology! You just!!! Left??” She scoffs, her lips trembling as she crosses her arms, looking away from you.

“Tatum, you knew my boundaries, and you still broke them by dating him.” Your voice was stern. The absolution in your voice almost ended the conversation there. She had broken the one rule you had. Though Stu continued to not so subtly watch her could tell you were uncomfortable. You never wanted to be confronted by Tatum over this.

She huffs, and her eyebrows knit together tightly. She’s started to shake her head like a toddler, her blonde hair slipping from her shoulders, from that perfect curl that you would usually reach over and fix when it fell. Instead, your hands stayed passively by your sides, sometimes awkwardly slipping into your pants pockets.

“I just don’t understand what your deal with Stu is!! He’s just a big dork, and I thought you would be happy for me!” She scoffs, stomping her heel into the tiled floor and crossing her arms under her chest, your jaw visibly tightening; she had no idea who Stu was.

A hot, frustrated sigh hisses past your teeth as you adjust your posture, practically looming over her at this point. You push loose hair out of your face and glance over your shoulder for a moment, shoving your hands roughly into your pocket and shifting something around in the left one, rolling it against your palm.

“Tatum, I don’t need to explain jack shit to you. You knew what I was comfortable with and you said fuck it anyway. I’m glad you have a boyfriend and very happy for you, but I don’t want to associate with you if it’s going to be Stu Macher.”

Your fist is tight around the object. Tatum was pushing you to an emotional limit that you were starting to feel overwhelmed by. You gave her your answer why couldn’t she just leave it alone.

Tatum opens her mouth to keep talking, but you’re quick to lift your hand into her face. You turn away and walk away, glaring at Stu on your way to the parking lot.

Your fingers were shaking, and your ears were ringing from your rising anger. Tatum never knew when to just stop, trying to force an answer that she wanted to hear.

Billy had been enjoying his conversation with Sid, laughing at her snarky comments before a glint of something reflecting the noon sun shone into his eye.

At first, he thought it was just a car that annoyingly caught the sun, though when Billy looked over and he saw you adjust a foldable knife in your palm, he was much more intrigued by you at that moment.

He’s quick to snap his eyes back to Sid so she doesn’t look back at you and see what he clearly was not supposed to know. You had no need for self-defence. As far as you knew, you weren’t one of the possible victims for either of the murderers in Woodsboro.

How unfortunate that Stu and Billy had been invited to the same party as you.

How unfortunate you had no idea, and because it was your friends home, you were a lot more comfortable and showing a side that Billy felt weird seeing. You were so calm. Laughing and dancing with people, holding cups for girls and harming people that weren’t the girls trying to take them from you.

How unfortunate you were not as wary of your cup.

You were quick to realise what was happening, trying to find a friend in your dazed and increasingly distorting vision, the lights growing much too bright and streaking across your pupils like paint.

Faces blurred together, and everything was too loud and then much too quiet. You could only barely feel the vibrations of the booming music under your increasingly heavy limbs.

You desperately step outside, gasping at the cold air and holding your face. You felt so hot and irritated from just the slightest touches of the fabric of your shirt on your chest. You were determined to not fall asleep, panting and leaning heavily against your car. Your breathing was hard and laboured due to panic, but the drug trying so hard to shut down your body.

Eventually, you succumb to a mild blackout, eyes rolling back into their sockets, your once secure purchase against your vehicle slipping.

Luckily for you, you wake up from your intense disorientation in time to catch yourself, and unfortunately, scrape the hell out of your hands and knees, sweat starting to drip from the tip of your nose onto the ground.

Billy sighs as he walks over to you, Stu lagging behind him, trying to act like he was trying to keep up with the man through the crowds.

He crouches down beside you and touches your back, a startled gasp escaping you. Though your pathetic excuse of trying to slap away the hand was almost laughable, you could barely move your shaking arms that were barely keeping you from fully laying on the sidewalk.

“You’re going to make yourself very sick if you keep fighting it,” Billy speaks matter of factly, looking over his shoulder momentarily when Stu approaches, frowning a bit at how uncomfortable you looked. You were making this much too hard on yourself.

Your speech is slurred, a loopy and uncharacteristic smile on your face as you finally let yourself lean your hot cheek into the cooling ground, squinting at the men in the dark.

“You...” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but they could hear you enough, “I kno...w, what..?? Who!! Who you are!” You chuckle, trying to lift yourself from the ground, a startled gasp escaping you when the intense burning from your bleeding palms shoots through your entire arm.

“Gho...stface, is... Stupid...” You mumble, letting Billy gently push you into the sidewalk so wouldn’t keep harming yourself.

Though he almost entirely slammed your skull into it when you were so casual about your admittance of their identity.

It was almost hard to believe you, but something so hard tugged at him, panic almost. What would you gain from lying? Your behaviour around them made so much more sense.

“...You’re... sl...sloppyyy...” You were telling the ground at this point, cheek pressed so hard into the concrete that Billy was sure it would leave a mark for a few hours. Tears started streaming down your face as you flip your palms to the sky, the throbbing pain from your wounds being the only thing keeping you grounded and from entirely passing out.

Your voice eventually gave out, they had assumed that you thought you were speaking, but your eyes, finally snapping closed, told them that your fighting was finally over.

“This is far more complicated than I anticipated, Stu.” He sighs, touching at your hair before standing up and tugging you up, grunting a bit at your dead weight but easily carrying you nonetheless, “Perhaps you will have your way.” He chuckles, looking at the male and much appreciating the help as they move you to Stu’s car to drive you to Sid’s place.

[potsandpains]

practically perfect in every way part 3

Pairing: Hotch x Fem!Reader

AN: Welp here we are again. Let me know what y’all think!

part 1:

part 2: 

part 4:

Jack is 6 at the beginning of this and Haley is dead. rip to her. Hotch is around 40ish, reader is 25-26ish.

Summary: Aaron Hotchner hires Jack’s nanny, knowing she is practically perfect in every way. A perfect nanny for Jack, and as he comes to find, a perfect match for him. 

CW: bloody nose?? think that’s it??

/ / /

The Florida case had gone well.

Well, as well as could be expected. A family annihilator from a broken home wreaking havoc in Tallahassee was quickly managed by Aaron and his team, and he found himself on his way home on Wednesday evening, just a few short days after promising y/n he would come home as quick as he could. 

He smiled to himself, looking out the window of the jet. Looks like he would get to keep his promise. 

“What are you smiling about, Hotch? Got a hot date lined up when we land?” Morgan asked, grin on his face and eyebrows raised.

Aaron’s  professional persona found its way to his face and he gave Morgan a pointed look, eyes narrowed. Might as well have a little fun with him, right?

“No, Morgan, I don’t. I’m just thinking about the stack of paperwork I’m dropping on your desk from the case.”

Morgan shook his head, laughing and throwing his hands up in surrender. “Only joking, sorry I asked.”

“How’s Jack getting along with that new nanny?” Dave asked, sitting across from Aaron. “She’s been with you guys a few months, right?”

“She’s perfect. I don’t know how I- how we managed without her before.” Aaron replied.

“You haven’t introduced us to her yet though. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were hiding her from us.”

Aaron shook his head. “Not hiding her at all. I didn’t know you wanted to meet my son’s nanny, Dave. Do you have a type?”

Rossi laughed. “No, doting nanny is definitely not my type. You just seem a lot more at ease since you hired her and I’ve been wanting to meet the girl responsible.”

“Hotch has a girl putting him at ease? I’d definitely like to meet her too.” Piped Emily from across the plane. 

“Oooh me too,” said JJ, “must be some girl.”

Aaron felt himself getting flustered. “Easy, you guys. She’s not some girl, she’s Jack’s nanny.”

“She’s likely putting you at ease because you feel you can trust her with your son. Parents with high stress careers tend to exhibit higher stress in their parenting styles and your biological response to a caretaker for Jack that is consistent and effective in her methods is making you more easy going both as a parent and in your work.” Reid shared, not even looking up from his book. 

“Alright that’s enough,” Aaron said quickly, “We’re not discussing this right now.”

Dave gave Aaron a knowing look and grinned. “I think I like her already.”

/ / / 

Aaron got into his car, turning the keys in the ignition when a notification lit up his phone. He had sent y/n a message that he was heading home, but he hadn’t heard from her since. Looking at his previously sent message, a new notification lit up the screen. 

AH: Finished up the case. Heading home now.

YN: Oh great! Glad to hear it :) Jack’s having a late-night with Oliver from soccer but I’ll send Oliver’s mom a text to let Jack know you’re coming home. He’ll be so excited!

Sleepovers were a no-go in the Hotchner household, so when his friends were having sleepovers Aaron compromised with Jack by doing late-nights, where he got to stay at his friend's house until it was bedtime. It was hard for Jack to understand, but Aaron had been thrilled that y/n shared his thoughts on sleepovers and was more than happy to help enforce things. 

Leaving the parking garage and beginning the drive home, Aaron reflected on how glad he was the case was over. He was so happy to be coming home. To be coming home to a familiar house, a familiar bed, to Jack, and of course to her. At this point Aaron knew his feelings extended far beyond the professional relationship of just being the father of the child y/n nannied. 

They were friends, of course. Aaron loved her teasing sense of humor and the way she helped him not take himself as seriously as he felt he should be, and he absolutely loved how much she loved his son. He loved watching her coach Jack at soccer and he was amazed by her patience with him. 

He was aware of all these things, yes. That didn’t mean he thought they were right, however. He knew the age gap between them was… not small. He knew that he was technically her boss and that she worked as a caretaker for his child. He was all too aware that the romantic feelings he had for the smart, funny, kind, darling girl working for him were all too real, and that she was all too unattainable.

And God he hated that.

So he could be professional. He could be kind. He could be friendly. He could even pretend that the image of her in the bathtub wearing nothing but bubble bath and a mischievous smile didn’t keep him up at night. 

He pulled his car into the garage, noting that y/n’s car was parked in the driveway. He hadn’t responded to her text, figuring he’d be seeing her soon enough and they would talk then. He grabbed his go-bag and discarded suit jacket and made the walk from the garage into the house.

“Y/n?” He said, opening the door from the garage that led into the kitchen. “I’m home.”

Y/n didn’t respond. Aaron was certain she had no idea he was even there. She had her back to him, doing dishes in the sink. Wearing a tank top and biker shorts, Aaron guessed she had just come back from a run and still had her headphones in. Aaron could see that the noise canceling setting must be very effective since she gave no indication of hearing him. She was singing very loudly, seemingly unaware of his presence. He held back a laugh, watching her for a moment. 

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?

ABBA? He thought to himself, 

Loud singing gave way to (very endearing, according to him) very uncoordinated dancing. Using a wooden spoon covered in dish soap as a microphone, she kept singing. 

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

Grinning, he placed his go-bag, keys, and suit jacket on the counter. He took a quiet step towards her and placed a hand on her bare shoulder. “y/n-”

Whatever teasing remark he was going to say died in his throat as y/n let out a surprised shriek and clamped her hand over his own as her opposite elbow found his ribs. He let out a grunt, bowing over as the air was knocked out of him. Apparently not done, y/n stomped hard on his foot, whirled around, and punching him square in the nose. 

Aaron, bent over, out of breath, and now bleeding, promptly collapsed to the kitchen floor. 

Y/n recoiled, shaking her hand as the force of the punch caught up to her. If her hand hurt half as much as his face now did, he was sure it was aching already. He saw y/n’s eyes grow wide as she got a good look at him and let out a gasp, yanking her earbuds from her ears and kneeling to him on the ground. 

“Hotch oh my goodness are you okay?”

“Hell of a welcome home, y’n.” He said, trying to catch the blood dripping from his nose.

y/n helped him to his feet, standing up, and handed him a tissue. “I’m sorry, I really am. But you of all people should know that sneaking up on someone is a very bad idea.” 

He held the tissue to his nose, wincing. “Fair point. Where did you learn that?”

“What, not to sneak up on people?”

“No,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter, “How to beat the shit out of a grown man.”

She laughed. “Oh man, I picked that up the minute I hit puberty. Good to know it’s effective in taking down an FBI agent though.”

He gave her a pointed look, bloody tissue still held to his nose. 

“Tilt your head back and keep pressure on it. It’ll stop bleeding faster.” She took a step towards him, hand grazing his throat as she tipped his chin back, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Aaron resisted the urge to shiver. “I really am sorry, I promise it wasn’t on purpose.”

Placing pressure on his nose, he groaned at the pain. “I’d hate to see how I’d look if it was on purpose.”

He couldn’t see the look on her face, but he could hear the grin in her voice. “Oh you’d be way worse off. And you’d be begging for more too.”

Aaron felt a blush run from his face down his neck. What was that supposed to mean?

Y/n gently grabbed his arm. “Why don’t you shower and get changed. I’ll have an ice pack for you when you get out.”

“You give me a bloody nose and then take care of me? You’re giving me whiplash here.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I like you, Hotchner. Go on now.” Shooing him out of the kitchen

Aaron headed upstairs and made his way into the bathroom. As he turned on the hot water, a notification rang from his phone.

YN: Ran to get Jack, I’ll be back soon!

AH: Sounds good. If I collapse in the shower while you’re gone it’s your fault.

YN: Tough luck, Hotch. You weren’t wearing your life-alert earlier and I’m not coming to your rescue if you’ve fallen and you can’t get up.

He laughed, rolling his eyes. Stepping into the shower, he gasped as the hot water stung his already aching face and sore body. He’d fallen, alright.

When he was out of the shower and changed into comfier clothes, he came downstairs to see y/n sitting with Jack on the couch. Jack was wearing his favorite spiderman pajamas. Seeing his dad, he jumped up from the couch and ran to Aaron who knelt to meet him, and tackled him in a hug. Aaron groaned, wincing when Jack squeezed him tightly in the spot where y/n’s elbow had met his ribs earlier.

“Dad! You’re home! I missed you!”

“I missed you too buddy. Were you good for y/n?”

“Yeah I was really good!” Jack withdrew his arms from Aaron’s waist, eyes growing wide. “What happened to your face? Did a bad guy hit you?”

Aaron looked over Jack’s shoulder at y/n, who was biting her lip, embarrassment evident in her expression.

 “Yeah buddy, something like that.”

“Did you get him? Did he go to jail?” Jack asked.

“Yeah we got him. But would you look at that! It is past your bedtime and I’m home just in time to tuck you in!”

“But you just got here!” Jack protested. “I don’t want to go to bed yet.”

“How about this buddy, I can carry you to bed or you can walk by yourself. What sounds good?”

Jack thought about it for a split second before throwing his arms around his dad’s neck. “Can you carry me? And can we read two stories tonight instead of one? Ya know, to make up for the days you were gone?”

Aaron once again looked at y/n as he stood, Jack in his arms. Her embarrassed look was gone, and on her face was a look of such soft tenderness Aaron blinked in surprise, sure his eyes were mistaken. Upon meeting his gaze y/n looked down, a bashful smile on her face. 

“Sure. Two stories sounds good to me.”

/ / / 

Once Jack was asleep, Aaron came downstairs to find y/n sitting at the bar in the kitchen, fiddling with what looked like an ice pack. 

“He’s out.” He said.

She looked up, the ice pack stilled in her hands.

“I’m surprised he fell asleep so quick, he was pretty wound up when you got home.”

“You and me both.”

She held up the ice pack. “This is for you. Consider it a formal apology for giving you a black eye the second you walk in the door.”

He took it from her, holding it to his left eye. “Apology accepted.”

She stood, walking to the medicine cabinet, grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen and shaking a few pills out. “Here. This will help with the swelling too. I’ll grab you some water.”

She filled a glass at the sink and slid it in from of him. He took a sip and swallowed the pills gratefully. “So. Anything fun happen while I was gone?’

She exhaled, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Not really. Let me think. Jack has a new wiggly tooth, I finished yet another romance novel that will give me unrealistic expectations. Jack and I made banana bread for him to take to his teacher. I think that’s it.”

He nodded. “Seems like a good few days.”

“It was. We missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He looked at her, ice pack held to one eye and a wistful smile on his face. She smiled back, and they held each other’s gaze for a moment too long before Aaron cleared his throat and looked down. “We don’t happen to have another ice pack, do we? I think I’m going to need one for my other eye.”

“I’m sure we do.” Y/n moved towards the fridge and opened the freezer door. She pulled a new ice pack from the back of the freezer and closed the door, turning to face him, leaning over the counter.  “I can take that old one. I’ll trade ya.” She grabbed the ice pack from his face and placed it on the counter between them, a slight grimace on her face. She delicately traced her fingers around his swelling eye, her face filled with concern. Aaron resisted the urge to grab her hand and hold it in his own. “That’s going to be quite the shiner, Hotchner. If it’s any consolation I think your left is the worst one, so your right eye shouldn’t be too bad.” She shook her head. “I really am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. Seeing the gentle look in her eyes, he decided to act before he lost his courage. He pulled her hand from his face and intertwined his fingers with hers. “I know you didn’t mean to. I’m sorry I scared you.”

She clasped her hand tighter in his, a soft smile painted across her expression. He brought his other hand to her face, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“Y/n, I-” 

“Daddy?” Jack’s voice called out from up the stairs.

Aaron froze. Y/n quickly withdrew her hands from his and stepped back. Aaron cleared his throat, trying to hide the disappointment from his face and voice.

“Yeah Jack?” He hollered.

“Can you read me one more story? I can’t sleep.”

He let out a breath. “Sure buddy. I’ll be right up.”

He turned to look at y/n, who was struggling to meet his eyes. “I think… I think I’m going to go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.” She said.

He swallowed, disheartened. “Goodnight, y/n.”

She quickly went out of the kitchen, making her way up the stairs ahead of him. She ducked into the guest room without another word. 

Aaron was just about to enter Jack’s room when he heard her door creak open. “Hotch?”

“Yes?”

Y/n stepped out of the guest room, arms folded across her chest. “I… I’m really happy you’re home.”

He smiled softly, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m happy to be home.” He entered Jack’s room without waiting for her response. 

/ / / 

Waking up the next morning was difficult to say the least. For one, he was sure that the interaction in which he held y/n’s hand was a dream and that interaction in which he got punched in the face was a weird sort of nightmare. 

His sore face said otherwise. It was reality, alright. 

He woke up late, having slept through his alarm, and barely had enough time to get dressed and get his briefcase together before he had to rush out the door. He usually left for work early, before even Jack was awake. He was still asleep when Aaron left, but y/n was awake, sitting at the bar in the kitchen, sipping tea in her pajamas with a book in hand. She set the book down and looked on as he ran through the kitchen like a tornado.

“Hey.” She said. He didn’t reply. “Someone’s in a rush this morning. How’s your eye?”

“I am very late. Slept through my alarm. I need to get going.”

“Your eye looks bad. Take some ibuprofen before you go.”

“I really do not have the time.” He replied, rushing to the door with car keys in hand. 

“Hotch wait-” y/n started. 

Aaron shut the door behind him, not letting her finish. 

/ / /

Aaron was full of regret when he reached the BAU. For one, she was right. He caught a look at his eye in the rearview mirror and he looked rough. He also really should have taken some painkillers because his head was killing him and his eye was throbbing. For another, he had been quite rude to her in his rush to leave, and he definitely didn’t like how that felt. The final twinge of regret came when he got to work and realized that he had left his wallet sitting right on the counter where he left it last night. This posed a myriad of problems. 

His wallet held his secondary credentials and his identification, so if they were called on a case he was screwed. His wallet also held all of his credit cards and cash, and in his rush to get out the door he hadn’t eaten breakfast and he was getting quite hungry. Y/n said he got hangry when he hadn’t eaten. She explained that it meant that he gets grouchy and irritable without food. She thought it was funny. He hadn’t. 

Until now, that is. Then he discovered she was right. He was indeed very hangry, and he had no means of fixing it. 

Leaving the door to his office open, he decided to get an early start on paperwork from the last case, listening for when the rest of the team came in. He had grabbed coffee from the staff kitchen, and he hoped it would tide him over until he had a chance to either run home to grab his wallet or until it was time for him to go home for the day. 

As the morning trickled by and members of the team made their way in, he did his best to curb his irritability and hunger. The team had all arrived from what he could hear, and since today was primarily paperwork he was sure he could get through the day with none of them coming into his office and questioning the state of his appearance. 

A knock on his doorframe dashed his hopes. “So I’m thinking we have a little family dinner and you can bring your girl. My place, good wine- Whoa! What happened to you?” Dave’s shocked voice filled Aaron’s office. 

“Please, have a seat. I can give you a play-by-play of how my son’s nanny gave me a beating to rival any unsub.”

Dave strolled in the office, taking a seat in the chair in front of Aaron’s desk. “Well she had to have a reason I bet. What did you do?”

Aaron looked at him with narrowed eyes. Squinting hurt. “Nothing, but thank you for your vote of confidence. She was wearing headphones and didn’t hear me come in the house.”

Dave nodded, impressed. “She can hold her own. That’s good.”

Aaron didn’t reply, eyes focused on the paperwork in front of him. 

“Hey. Aaron. What’s your deal today? You’re moody.”

“I’m not moody, Dave. I got punched in the face and my eye hurts. And I forgot my wallet so I’m running purely on coffee today. So forgive me for not being my usual sunshiney self.”

Dave had the nerve to laugh. “Call it what you want, but I don’t think it has much to do with your shiner there. When you’re ready to talk about your girl problems, you know where to find me.”

Aaron snorted. “Sure. I’ll be sure to give you a call.” 

Dave stood to leave when a voice foreign to the BAU rang through the bullpen. 

“I’m sorry, can you help me? I’m looking for Aaron Hotchner.”

Dave and Aaron’s eyes met. Dave grinned, and Aaron went pale. What was y/n doing here?

Morgan’s familiar flirty tone answered. “Just up the stairs there, sweetheart. Unless I can help you with what you need.”

Aaron heard y/n’s laugh ring through his ears. “I am very flattered, but I’m absolutely certain you cannot.”

He heard footsteps up the short stairs to his office and y/n appeared in the doorway, Carrying a canvas bag over her shoulder. She was wearing overalls and high top converse, and a bandana held her hair back from her face. She could not stand out more in the formal setting of the FBI building. She gave a slight knock, a smile on her face.

“Hey!” She then noticed Dave, still standing between the desk and the door. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.” 

“I was just leaving,” said Dave, walking to y/n and extending his hand, “Y/n, I’m guessing.”

“Yes sir.” She said, reciprocating his handshake. 

“David Rossi. It’s nice to finally meet you. Aaron’s told me so much. The Hotchner’s are lucky to have you.”

y/n gave Aaron a look that said what have you told him about me? Before replying “I’m just as lucky to have them. It was nice meeting you.”

“You as well.” Dave said, vacating the office. 

y/n stepped towards Aaron’s desk, sitting down in the chair Dave was just in.

‘Hi.” She said.

“...Hi.” He replied. 

“I thought you’d be happier to see me, since I’m going to be your saving grace today.” She said, holding up the bag she brought with her. Emptying it onto his desk, she pulled out his wallet, a piece of banana bread, and an entire bottle of ibuprofen. 

Aaron looked from the desk into her eyes, seeing a satisfied look on her face. 

“You were in such a rush this morning you didn’t let me tell you that you left your wallet on the counter. I figured you’d be starving and that your eye would be killing you by now, so once I got Jack off to school I thought I’d drop by.”

“I.. Thank you.” He replied. “This morning has been rough. I can’t tell you how much this helps me out.” 

“You’re welcome. Glad I could help.” She started to stand. Aaron wanted her to stay. A few minutes, maybe. He could negotiate her staying forever too, if she was up to it.

“Y/n-” He started. She stopped, slowly sitting back down. “I’m sorry I was short with you this morning. You didn’t deserve that.”

She smiled. “Apology accepted. I know you didn’t mean to.” His own words echoed back at him. 

“I’m glad. I’ve uh… I’ve been doing paperwork for a while. I could use a break. Do you want to get lunch?”

“I don’t want to distract you if you have a lot to do, really. I just meant to drop these off.”

“No really, I would be really happy if you’d get lunch with me.”

She hesitated. He hoped it was because she truly was worried about distracting him, and not because she didn’t want to. “You know what, sure. I’d love that.”

He stood from his desk, smiling. She also stood, smiling back at him. “Great. Consider it a formal thank you for bringing me my wallet.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They exited his office, and Aaron was met with a gasp and clamor of noise from the bullpen. Right. He forgot none of them had seen his injuries yet. 

“Hotch- what happened to you?” Cried Emily.

“Are you alright, sir?” Reid looked mortified, glancing between y/n and Hotch as if trying to make sense of Aaron’s injuries.

He held up his hand, silencing the questions. “Everyone, this is y/n.” Y/n gave a small wave and a smile. “She is Jack’s nanny,” Aaron continued, “As for my eye, y/n is also responsible for that. I would advise not sneaking up on her or scaring her, or else you’ll end up worse for wear, as I have unfortunately figured out.” With a gesture to his eye, he started the walk out of the office, y/n trailing right behind him. 

He could here the imminent chatters of gossip beginning the minute he turned his back to the team, but he just shook his head. He would answer their questions another time.

As they got in the elevator, she turned to face him. “So last night -”

“Yes?” He said, bracing himself. Was she going to let him know it was a mistake? Or that it somehow wasn’t a mistake?

“I uh, I forgot to tell you. I guess something fun did happen while you were gone.” 

What?

“Oh? What happened?”

“I went on a date.”

Aaron’s heart sank. He hoped his face wasn’t telling too much. 

“Really?” How was it?”

“Good. Really good, actually. His name’s Braden.”

“That’s… that’s great Y/n. Are you going to go out with him again?”

“I think so.” 

Suddenly it was more than Aaron’s eye that hurt.

[buckysimp101]

Love at First Grade (18+) - 14

Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader; Teacher!Bucky x CEO!Reader

chapter warnings: mentions of surgical methods? Nothing too gross. Lil bit o’fluff if you squint. Not super angsty

Series Masterlist

Your throat tightened at Winnie’s words. You tried your best to talk calmly to the clearly overwhelmed and scared mother. Your heart beating in your ears as you asked her what hospital she was at. After she told you, you hung up the phone and dashed to put on shoes as quick as you could. On your way to the hospital you called Steve. You could barely get your question out, your eyes burning with tears, so Steve just told you that he and Becca were on the way and they’d meet you there, you needed to focus on driving and getting there safely. After throwing your car into park at the hospital you shot a text yo your parents, letting them know that Avery would be spending the night with them because something came up. The automatic doors to the emergency room opened as you practically ran to the desk, probably scaring the poor receptionist.

“James Barnes. I need to know where he is?” It took all your energy to just speak his name.

“Ma’am are you family? We’re only allowed to give patient information to their emergency contacts…” the receptionist trailed off as you interrupted.

“I don’t care about emergency contacts! My partner was in an accident and his mother told me to come here, now tell me where he is!” You were running the gambit of all the emotions you’d withheld in the last week and we’re currently settling on anger. When all of a sudden you heard a young voice cry from the other side of the waiting room.

“MAMA!” Your head whipped around at the voice as you saw Becca struggling to get out of Steve’s arms, eventually succeeding, and running full speed to vault into your arms. Cue the waterworks yet again. You squeezed Becca into a big hug and willed the tears not to come but then you looked at her face. Her face that Bucky’s gene had essentially said “copy and paste” of his own. She looked tired and sad, but not sad in the way that she knew what was going on. No, Becca seemed more sad that her favorite adults were sad.

“Oh Becca-bug, I missed you so much,” you spoke softly as you held the six year old close to your chest. She wrapped her legs around you and held tight.

“I missed you and Avery so much, mama,” her voice smaller than it had been when she barreled down the hallway after catching a mere glimpse at you. The softness in her voice seemed to make you realize that she’d stopped calling you Y/N… and she’d graduated to mama instead. Your heart swelled and happy tears came to your eyes. The fact that Becca looked at you like a maternal figure meant more to you than you could unpack in that moment. You walked up to Steve, a sad smile on his lips at the sight in front of him, and he gestured to a room tucked into the hallway. The door opened to reveal a distraught Winnie being tended to by Bex, she’d been in town for Bucky’s birthday tomorrow. The second Winnie saw you she bounded out of her chair and pulled you in for a hug with Becca right in the middle.

“Thank you so much for coming, sweet girl,” she whispered in your ear as she picked up Becca to hold her close. The fact that the six year old looked a lot like Bucky probably gave the older woman some comfort. Steve cleared his throat from the back of the room and gave a nod of his head to you, gesturing for you to meet him in the hall. As you shut the door behind you, you were almost immediately enveloped in a bear hug by Steve Rogers himself. When you looked up, you could see the tears starting to form in his eyes and your bottom lip wobbled in response, visible proof that you were seconds from having your foundation crumble.

“He was so excited to see you. Called me all out of the blue to watch Becca and I immediately said yes. I’ve been on the jerk’s ass all week to call you and when he finally grew the balls to do it this happened. Hit by a drunk driver the cops said,” Steve spoke quietly, not making eye contact with you. You could tell he felt guilty for something that wasn’t his fault.

“Oh Stevie, you know this isn’t your fault. Not in any way, shape or form did you cause this to happen. It’s the drunk driver’s fault and believe me, if they’re alive we’ll be taking them to court,” you spoke soothingly, trying to keep Steve calm. He opened his mouth to speak when the doors to the emergency room waiting area were opened. A doctor with dark hair and a serious expression was walking to the room with Winnie and the girls, the two of you eyed each other and hurried back to the room as fast as possible. You opened the door to Winnie telling her to wait while you came back. When you were all settled, with Becca in your lap of course, the doctor started.

“I’m Dr. Mindy Summers and we just got through working on James Barnes. He’s in a recovery room now but we expect he’ll be moved to a regular room in a couple days. I expect you’ll be allowed back there one at a time in a little bit.” The whole room let out a breath of relief, you moved your hand through Becca’s curls, using your senses to keep you grounded.

“There was a hiccup. Due to the state that Mr. Barnes was found, his left arm was completely pinned between two large pieces of metal. My colleagues and I tried our best but we were not able to save the arm, so we had to perform a shoulder level amputation on his left arm,” Dr. Summers spoke softly as if to lessen the blow as the sighs of relief from earlier turned into gasps of shock. Dr. Summers continued, “when Mr. Barnes is awake and cognitive, we’ll begin the process of deciding whether he’d like to be fitted for a prosthetic. We have one organization that we work with that has found a way to provide a well-fitted and neurologically connected prosthesis to our patients that weighs no more than a regular limb. And it’s all for a very reasonable price.”

Udaku Tech. She’s describing Shuri’s work. I knew I made the right decision investing in them, you couldn’t help but think those words in that moment. Small pride from past decisions whispering in your ear.

Thank you, Dr. Summers. Do you know when we can see him?” Winnie spoke but her voice cracked. She was trying to maintain a brick facade for Becca and Bex but you knew she was seconds away from losing it all.

Dr. Summers looked upon her patients mother with pitied eyes as she responded, “let me find out what I can do. I know they’ll only really allow one of you at a time for now since he’s still under from the anesthesia. I’d like to say they’ll probably allow you back first thing in the morning at visiting hours. I’ll get the receptionist to give you his room number so you can find your way tomorrow. Now please, go home and get some rest. He won’t be waking up for a bit.”

Her reassuring tone brought down some of the stress and anxiety that was palpable in the room before she went to find a nurse about the situation. Dr. Summers returned not long after with Bucky’s room number and another reminder to get some sleep. Bex was going to stay the night with Winnie at the hospital in the waiting room for surgery recovery patients. Winnie had begged you to take Becca home with you, just for the night. So you agreed. You packed Becca up in Avery’s car seat and took the exhausted six year old back to her apartment. Becca had refused to sleep in her bed, wanting to be near you, so the two of you crawled into Bucky’s bed. His scent still fresh on his sheets summoned a wave of emotions within you. You sobbed with your face in your pillow, trying desperately not to wake up the sleeping child next to you.

Becca was waking you up bright and early the next day, your eyes were so puffy from crying yourself to sleep that you had to use one of her uncrustables to decrease the swelling. After checking in with your parents and Avery, and making sure Becca was dressed and ready, you headed to the hospital. The drive over wasn’t too long and Becca spent it regaling you of the events of her last week and how she missed you and Avery so much and she couldn’t wait to play with Avery again. A quick stop for coffee and the two of you were meeting Winnie, Bex and Steve in the waiting room. You’d brought some small toys for Becca to play with, hoping they’d entertain her for the time being, and sat down in the hard, uncomfortable chair. Winnie and Bex hadn’t been back there to see Bucky yet but they had been given the okay to do so. Winnie was just waiting for you. It warmed your heart the way the older woman acted as if you were just important as her own flesh and blood. It made you admire her as a mother and as a friend. After double checking that you, Steve and Bex were okay with waiting with Becca, she disappeared down a long sterile looking hallway. The three of you played with Becca for a bit, taking shifts on whose turn it was to play with the unicorn toy she’d gotten for Christmas from Avery, and occasionally shifting your focus to the news. Finally Bex broke the silence.

“My brother’s an idiot,” she stated flatly looking at you. Her bluntness causing you and Steve to gawk. Bex waved her hand as if to say ‘get over it, it’s fine’ before she continued, “he told me about everything. About how he was ignoring you to process his feelings blahblahblah. One thing you need to know about James Buchanan Barnes? He’s a chicken. His fear response is to run away, he’s the literal embodiment of the flight end of the fight or flight spectrum.”

Her tone made you and Steve stifle giggles. You knew she was serious but you also couldn’t get over how casually she was saying all this. Your giggles spurred her on, “but if I know my brother…I know you mean the world to him. You and Avery both. You’re right up there on the list with Becca and Steve and that’s saying a lot. He just needed some time to think about things. Did he need almost a week? No, probably not. Did he think he was saving your feelings by not talking about it immediately? Absolutely. Like I said, idiot.”

“She’s not wrong,” Steve added under his breath, bringing a small smile to your lips. You went to answer but your response was cut short by Winnie’s return, fresh tears in her eyes from her visit with Bucky.

“They told me I could bring Becca with me. And that it might be best for her to see him while he’s asleep,” she spoke softly.

You took that as your cue. You bent down next to Becca and spoke as calmly and soothingly as possible, “Miss Becca-bug, Nana wants to take you to go see daddy, okay? He’s sleeping though so you have to be verrrrry quiet and gentle, okay?”

Her blue eyes reached yours, excitement swimming in them as she nodded and left her toys behind to grab onto her grandmother’s hand. And then they were off. And the three of you were left in the waiting room once again. You broke the silence this time.

“I’m going to…find the cafeteria or a coffee shop or something for a little breakfast for Becca and Winnie when they get back, just call me if something happens.” Steve and Bex took in your face, seeing the need to be alone for just a few minutes, as they nodded in unison and told you what Winnie would eat.

You walked around the hospital. For a business with multiple investments in the medical field a hospital always made you uncomfortable. Everything was too white, too sterile and too confusing. You swore the hospital was a maze with the only goal to get you trapped in the middle with no way out. You followed tens signs for the cafeteria until you finally stumbled upon it. The line was long and suddenly you were thankful for the time away. It would give Steve and Bex the opportunity to see Bucky as well. You decided to sit down and eat your breakfast first, taking in the events of the last week and mulling over them over bland scrambled eggs and over cooked bacon. Finally you bought some food for the rest of the group and made your way back to the beginning of the maze.

Winnie and Becca had returned and Steve was missing. Bex informed you that she’d also been back there already and when Steve got back it would be your turn, if you wanted. Winnie mentioned that the nurses seemed a little concerned that Bucky hadn’t woken up yet which only ratcheted up your stress levels more. Bex told you that he looked better than she expected, a little bruised up but just as ugly as ever, the latter part earning her a slap on the head by her mother. You handed to food out to everyone and held on tightly to Steve’s, your fingers nervously picking at the styrofoam box. You saw Steve before everyone else did, a tired look of sadness on his face. You tried to pay attention to what he saw but your heart was thundering in your ears until Winnie approached you.

“It’s your turn, sweet girl,” she spoke softly, running a hand up and down your back encouragingly and soothingly. And so with every fiber of your being you walked down the achingly blank walls of the hospital until you reached the door for room 306. You slowly opened the door, the sounds of medical machines reaching your ears before you could lay your eyes on Bucky.

That was the mistake. Seeing him laying in the hospital bed completely vulnerable. A black eye and a severely bruised cheekbone. Shallow scratches sprinkled over his face, and stark white gauze of a wound dressing at his left shoulder. And so you did what, apparently, you do best. You say down and cried. Someone had pulled up a chair right next to his bedside and so you sat there and took his right hand and bawled. You cried for Bucky and his injuries. You cried for his past and an ex who manipulated him. You cried for yourself and Avery and the love you were never given by a man who was supposed to care for you. When you finally stopped and caught your breath, you started to speak.

“Bucky I am so so sorry. I’m sorry about everything. The accident. Dolores. Brock. This week. But I had to tell you. I couldn’t just keep it all a secret,” you whispered. You decided to talk about everything that had happened in the week. You told an unconscious Bucky about all your arguments with Avery about not seeing Becca, about your surprise to Becca calling you mama but you didn’t mind, and when your brain finally ran out of things to tell him you paused and thought long and hard about what to say next.

With a light squeeze of his hand you spoke, “Bucky when I received the call from your mom my whole world stopped. I was convinced I’d lost you. The love of my life,” you revealed with a small smile as you kept your eyes on Bucky’s hand, “cats out of the bag now… I realized it, fully realized it I guess, last weekend. I guess I have the confidence to say it now that I know you aren’t paying attention but god I love you, Bucky Barnes. And I’m so scared of spending the rest of my life never feeling how I feel when I’m with you.” You snuck in the paraphrasing of the Dirty Dancing quote for good measure. Sniffling a little more and clearing your throat you finished, “And now I need you to wake up. You gotta wake up so I can grow the balls to tell you that when you’re awake, Buck.”

Fresh tears reappeared in your eyes and you moved your hand out of Bucky’s to wipe them away when a raspy, groggy voice broke through your sniffles.

“I love you too, honey. But did you just quote Dirty Dancing?”

a/n: ehe, hope this makes up for the last chapter a teensy bit

taglist:

@youlightmeupfinn

@la-undercover-latina

@jackiehollanderr

@fab-notfat

@galaxy-dusk

@asoftie4bucky

@fangirlvoice

@queenbeecandi*

@babyevansblog

@stevihj

@sherlockstrangewolf

@notavintagecliche

@justsomebodyweird*

@katiecg

@wintasssoldier

@snufflet

@buckrecs

@missvelvetsstuff

@selluequestrian

@dhoruwolfie

@winters1917

@crazyunsexycool

@fangirling-galore

@emmarablack13

@some-lovely-day

@the-fool-who-jingled*

@theluvcafe

@crazybutconfidentaf

[juminsmysticmc]

Hii☺️So, we have RFA+Minor trio being single fathers after Mc's death, what about reversing it?So that Mc is a single mother after they died(

I waited really long to finally make a request and I am very excited right now, especially since it's you.I really love your writings and I read all of them for like a dozen of times and I can't get enough of them😍Thank you so much for your work and stay healthy 🙏🏻

Mc being a single mom after the RFA + Minor Trio died    ( Trigger Warnings! ) 

Trigger Warnings, mention of death, parental death

RFA + Minor Trio as single fathers after Mc’s death (Parental death/ Trigger Warnings)

Did I mention that I like drama? Enjoy! 

Jumin

You pressed your lips together as tears went down your cheek. The baby you just gave birth to was sleeping in Jaehee‘s arms as you sobbed into Zen‘s embrace.

,,It‘s as if he planned everything,“ you sobbed, making your red haired friend shake with his head.

,,When he found out you were pregnant, he made me do all this. He didn’t plan to die a month after the birth of your baby, really, he just feared that if something happened to him, his father would have acted the way he did,“ Seven explained.

The reason why you were currently staying over at Jaehee‘s place was that Jumin died a week ago. One day you let him go out of the front door, still smiling as he kissed your newborn, and not even half an hour later, you found yourself in the hospital.

Someone shot him.

And as if it wasn’t enough, your father in law tried to take away your baby, saying that he had to give his grandchild a better life.

But Jumin, even in heaven, saved you once again, saving a lot of money and having an external saving method thanks to Seven.

He even left behind a letter to his father filled with lies, explaining that the baby wasn’t his child.

Of course everything was a lie, but this lie made it possible for you to see your baby grow up.

,,I can’t even go to my husband’s-” your words died in tears.

,,He will always look over you, Mc, and we’ll help you. It will all be better soon…“ Zen patted your back. He too was mourning for his friend.

Zen

,,Mommy, do I really look like daddy?“ your youngest girl asked you as she brushed her long white hair.

You gulped as you looked over to your oldest daughter.

Her eyes were again filled with tears.

Zen died two years ago, leaving you behind with three wonderful children.

You had to give up your job as manager and instead began to work part time in a restaurant at night and other little jobs while the girls were at school.

,,Daddy… I don‘t even remember him,“ your middle child hissed as she entered the room.

,,I don’t even know him, that’s worse!“ your youngest began to sob.

She indeed looked like Zen. He would have been proud to see her beauty.

Well, he was proud of every daughter he had. He loved them with all his heart.

,,Trust me, I would rather not remember him than live with memories,“ your oldest daughter Mina hissed as she put down her lipstick and rushed out.

You sighed as you looked at your little family.

You were all sleeping in one single room. No one had their own space and instead they all argued with each other whenever they had the chance.

,,You’re always so negative, MINA!“ your middle child Hana hissed, followed by the youngest, Sera.

,,I HATE YOU GUYS! HE DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!“ she screamed, making your heart stop.

Mina glared at her and fell on her feet as she began to scream a loud, high pitched scream.

,,SERA RYU!“ you screamed.

The house died down as only sniffles were heard.

,,Your father died when the three of you caught a virus. He was trying to go to the shop for some medicine, but that doesn’t mean that one of you is at fault, understand?“ you hissed.

You sat down and began to cry yourself as you called them over into your arms, ready to embrace your crying children.

,,No one is at fault. Please, please don’t fight, girls, your father would be devastated to see that,“ you begged.

,,Sera, you do look like dad,“ Mina sobbed and smiled, making your youngest smile brightly.

Yoosung

Your son finally fell asleep after a long crying session.

Nothing hurt you more than consoling your son who was in deep pain because he got bullied at school for not having a father.

Yoosung died six months ago, making you move into a tinier apartment which led to your son attending another school.

However, you regretted every single decision.

You pulled your phone out as you tried to dry your salty tears.

You entered a new chatroom as you asked for help.

,,What happened? Shall I come over?“ Jumin responded, being the first one online.

,,I can come quicker, I‘m omw,“ Zen shortly afterwards responded.

,,No no, I just…

Can you please bring Jinyoung to school tomorrow? He got bullied… I think if other children see him with you guys, they will respect him more,“ you wrote.

Of course Seven jumped in and wrote six lines about how happy he would be to play ⅓ of a father, making you actually choke on your tears.

,,Thank you,“ you typed and decided to bring your son to bed.

Indeed the three boys kept their promise, making him laugh like never before.

Jaehee

,,And that‘s how we met,“ you laughed as you told your son about the meeting between you and Jaehee.

He nodded as he looked at the picture over the table.

It portrayed you, him, and Jaehee on his first day of school.

Jaehee died a year ago from an illness.

It all went so quickly. One day she got diagnosed and a few months later the two of you prepared the funeral for her.

As if it was yesterday, you remembered picking up your son and driving him to the hospital to give Jaehee the chance to see him one last time.

And indeed, it was their last goodbyes.

Jaehee would never see him finishing school, university, or begin a job, fall in love, or try to cheer him up while being lovesick.

She would never see him get married or have his first child.

It hurt your heart to know that you were the only one left for him.

On the other side, Jaehee was happy that at least he had you. ,,How did your favorite TikTok go?“ she groaned.

,,Take him to the moon for me,“ she whispered.

,,Mom was a strong woman,“ you told your son as a tear left your eye.

,,You too, Mommy, you too.“

Saeyoung 

You sighed as you turned off your alarm to get off the bed.

It was still dark outside, but you had to wake up with the last strength you had. You pulled yourself together and walked back to the kitchen where you prepared some breakfast for your child.

Like every morning, reality hit you as you silently sobbed while putting some rice into the bento box.

Your hands trembled as you looked up, just to gasp for air and keep going.

It was hard ever since Saeyoung died. Things weren’t going well for you.

You thanked God daily for the remaining person you had, that you had friends and family who supported you.

But you also begged God to make this bad life end. Even though it was selfish, you just wanted to see your family again.

Even if Jaehee often tried to make you understand how lucky you were, even at the times where Jumin promised to help you with the medical expenses, even at those times when Yoosung came over to cook dinner, and even at those times when Zen promised to go with your and your child to the park, you just wanted this to end.

You inhaled again and dried your tears as you made yourself a cup of coffee.

,,Good morning, baby,’’ you whispered as you turned on the lights of your son’s room.

,,Mo….m,’’ the boy groaned, probably in pain as you helped him get up to sit on his wheelchair.

,,Wet…’’ he gasped as you noticed that he wet his bed again.

,,It’s okay, baby, don’t worry,’’ you smiled, pushing the chair through the door, passing at the picture of Saeyoung, Saeran, and your two perfectly healthy children.

That day, Saeyoung didn’t just die in a car accident from speeding, he also took his brother and one of your children with him, leaving you with your second son disabled by the accident.

,,It’s okay,’’ you whispered.

Saeran

You looked up to the ceiling as you felt a warm, little hand on your chest.

Turning your head, you could see how relaxed the face of your daughter was as she slept safely and soundly, not worrying about anything or anyone.

You smiled as you saw how much she resembled Saeran, her father.

Your hand moved to stroke her head as you remembered the day you told him that you were pregnant, how he cared for you and his daughter in the pregnancy, how hard labor was, and how emotional it was when he once again decided to save his brother after seeing his own daughter.

,,He would be happy to see her,’’ he said after she was newly born and he was finally allowed to hold her in his embrace.

As if it was yesterday, you remembered how he taught her to walk, how he stood behind her while going to the park and how much he loved to feed her.

This all disappeared one day.

In the morning, he told you that he might have found Saeyoung and in the evening he came home, beaten up with a shotgun wound, collapsing in front of your porch.

It was your worst nightmare and you were honestly happy that this all happened at night, knowing that back then, your three year old daughter wouldn’t have seen anything.

Ever since then, life became harder.

You moved, fearing the Prime Minister or the agency Saeyoung was in would track you down and kill your daughter. The RFA kept helping you guys, but questions like, ,,Where is Dada’’ weren’t always easy to respond to.

,,Mommy,’’ she mumbled and opened her eyes, smiling brightly at you and rubbing her eyes to wake up.

,,Mhhh?’’ you asked her.

,,Daddy visited my dreams…’’ she giggled and fell asleep again, making you wander back to old memories too.

Jihyun

,,Mom, I don’t understand my homework,’’ Lucy said, whispering as she entered the room as quietly as possible.

You looked back to her and nodded as you looked back to the little bed your son was in before you walked away, your hand on Lucy’s hair as you smiled at her.

,,What topic?’’ you asked her.

You noticed that she was hesitating so it was probably art since it was related to her father.

,,Art?’’ you asked her to make it easier for her. She had a pretty hard time ever since Jihyun died, well, you too. You all had a pretty hard time.

Jumin wasn’t the same person anymore, or so Jaehee said. Yoosung seemed to regret a few things, and Saeran and Saeyoung were grieving, just like Zen.

Everyone was in pain after the painful death of that one special person.

,,Our teacher told us to draw a painful happy moment but… how am I supposed to make something happy if it’s supposed to be painful?’’ she asked you.

You nodded. ,,Well, describe something painful. What is painful?’’ you asked her.

,,Getting hurt is painful, falling is painful, getting hit is painful…’’

,,How about losing someone?’’ you asked her, making her think about it for a few seconds before she asked you if it wasn’t something sad instead of painful. 

You nodded. ,,When I told you that daddy wouldn’t come home anymore back then when you were younger, do you remember how you felt?’’ you asked her.

,,Did your heart hurt? Did you feel scared and suffocated? Wasn’t it painful?’’ you asked her and even though you could see that she was tearing up, you knew that this was something the two of you had to talk about.

Indeed, Lucy closed up about her feelings ever since then, but this was also a good opportunity.

,,Now, think of a happy moment with your father. Isn’t it something painful but a happy moment as well?’’ you asked her and got up, knowing that she knew what to do.

A week later, you were invited to see your daughter receive a prize for the most beautiful portrait of Jihyun as an angel looking down at the world, a painful and happy moment for everyone who knew him.

Vanderwood

,,Mommy,’’ your son asked you, pulling at your shirt as you stood in front of the stove.

,,Mhhh?’’ you asked him without looking as you were cooking.

,,Why did Daddy leave us?’’ he asked you out of the blue, making you stop everything and look at him.

,,The fish is burning,’’ he suddenly said as he saw the flames, making you shriek and quickly take care of everything.

After everything was taken care of, you took him in your arms and showed him a few pictures of his father.

For now, you never showed him his father. You never dared to speak about Vanderwood, fearing that your son wouldn’t understand your words, but by now you learned that he was much stronger than you ever thought.

,,This is your father, Vanderwood. He didn’t leave because he wanted to, he was kind of forced to,’’ you told him, gulping down the bad feeling you had as your heart began to beat quickly.

,,And why is he gone?’’ he asked you, softly touching the picture of a cool looking brown haired man.

This was on the day you two went to eat after you craved a salad and ice cream.

,,He had an important job to do,’’ you explained. Of course you didn’t tell him that the agency tracked him down and killed him brutally while he tried to keep you, his heavily pregnant, hidden.

,,And what is he doing now?’’ he kept asking you as you remembered the day, as if it was yesterday, when he pushed you into the closet, begging you to close your ears and never come out until called you.

However, that call never came. Instead, Saeyoung pulled you out moments later. You didn’t remember how much time passed.

You just knew that he asked you to keep your eyes closed as he led the way out of the room.

,,He is now protecting you, me, uncle Saeyoung, uncle Saeran, uncle Jumin, uncle Zen, uncle Yoosung and aunt Jaehee,’’ you answered with a smile.

How much he would have loved to meet his son, you were sure.

He was your happiness after all, the last memento of Vanderwood.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

26.07.2021// 00:13 MEST

[marsbutterfly]

Skyfall

Summary: When you are hired to kill the most dangerous mafia boss, things get a little complicated.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

|◁ II ▷|

“This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Feel the Earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again”

7:34pm

The clock on your wrist tics quietly but in the silent room, it nearly sounds like bombs being dropped from above. Not a word is exchanged between you and the man sitting across the room but you know exactly what he wants.

In his hand rests a dark colored suitcase, you can barely tell until the light hits his belt ever so gently but you finally see the gun he’s been carrying.

You take a deep breath, getting up for your seat. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the atmosphere as you walk towards him, the smirk on his lips is undeniable and you don’t understand what he has to be smiling about.

He stands up a second after you and walks in your direction, bumping against you and dropping his suitcase and the papers in his hand. In response, you throw on the floor the suitcase you once held. 

The man apologizes profoundly as you help him collect the papers on the floor. You say over and over that it is ok, while all the curious eyes in the room land on you. As you stand up, you hand him the suitcase you once had in your hand and he nods, thanking you for the help and apologizing one last time.

You begin to make your way back to your car, the smirk on his lips still engraved in your brain as a chill travels down your spine. “Why was he smiling?” You ask yourself not wanting to admit it but you are a bit scared of knowing the answer.

Though once you open the suitcase, you understand why. Inside, rests the pictures and information of your next target, the millionaire leader of an enemy gang. Though you don’t enjoy taking sides, you’ve been paid a large amount of money to take her out, more than you have ever made.

The war between these two gangs has been going on for the longest time and you have killed enough people on both sides to earn a fair amount of enemies, but this time you couldn’t help but feel a sinking hole opening in your heart.

Hanji Zoe has always been the deadliest member of the underground group. Her kill count is even higher than yours, at least 500+ heads under her belt. They say her torture methods surpass even the ones they use in hell.

She’s known as the Devil herself.

“For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue, I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen”

8:15pm

Your keys unlock the heavy doors of your house and somehow the marble floors feel colder than ever. Your shoes rest in their designated spot by the coat holder and you throw the suitcase on the couch.

Two cups rest on the counter near the bar area inside your home. One of them contains what you assume is whisky, due to the color and the amount of ice in the cup, it has always been her favorite after a work day.

The lipstick marks are fresh meaning she has just now gotten home. Upon paying closer attention, you realize the shower is on and steam is coming out of the bathroom. You think about joining her but ultimately decide to have a drink first, trying to forget about your next target.

Gently, you take two rocks of ice and place them in the clean cup specifically placed out for you. Pouring yourself a single shot of whisky, you walk towards the balcony feeling as the cold air of the night hits your face.

You knew this day would come but you hoped it would take longer. 

Deep in your own thoughts, you don’t realize the water has been turned off in the bathroom and wet footsteps approach your body.

It’s not until her wet arms wrap around your black dress that you realize you are no longer alone. Her face is buried in your back and you can see steam leaving her arms as the hair on her skin stands up.

The tattoo of your initials on her hand still brings butterflies to your stomach. The memory of the night she got it is still one of your favorite moments you spent together, especially since it was after your first date and she told you she knew you were the one.

“I missed you.” She says, placing a kiss on your skin. You can feel as her breasts are pressed against you and a gasp leaves your body.

“I missed you too.” You reply, a disobedient tear rolling down your face as you chug the contents of the cup in your hand.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, placing her hand on your waist as she turns your body around so you can face her. She is a few inches taller, nothing too extreme but enough to make you look up at her gently.

Her thumb brushes the tear on your cheek before rubbing it above your lips. You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to tell her the news you just received.

“You are my next target.” You say and Hanji nods, a sad smirk on her lips.

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together” 

9:00pm

The brush goes through her hair with ease for the first time, as if she took care of the tangles in the shower already knowing what the news you were bringing would be. After shower moments were the ones where Hanji was the most vulnerable.

She would simply close her eyes and appreciate the attention she’s been given as she fades in the echo of your voice. You hum a melody quietly, Hanji’s favorite song in the hopes to bring her any comfort at all.

Your tears drip down your nose onto her scalp as you put her hair in a ponytail, attempting to help her get ready for the party she will be attending in an hour. At the highest floor of the second tallest building in the entire city.

“How are you going to do it?” She asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke up in the air while trying to make rings out of it. You giggle, touching her shoulders before sliding your hands down her arms.

You notice the goosebumps rising on her skin and can’t help but smile at how she reacts to your touch. “Must we talk about it?”

“I need to know.” She replies and you nod, sighing heavily while finally agreeing to talk about the elephant in the room.

“I’ll be on the roof of the Paradise building. I am pretty sure they will send someone to watch me do it.” You begin, spraying the bottle of perfume around her and noticing as the drops of liquid fall on her tan skin, masking the smell of the cigarette.

“But they might not.” She says and you shrug your shoulders.

“They might not.” You say quietly.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from this city’s top 1 assassin.” She says, taking your hand in hers and planting a soft kiss on your palm, leaving behind the red mark of her deep colored lipstick.

She stands up, allowing the robe to fall to the floor and reveal her naked body. You can’t look away from the perfect shape of her breasts, the line that goes through her abdomen from a previous surgery and all of her battle scars.

“Make me yours one last time.” You say, pulling your shirt above her head as you expose yourself to her and she nods, a devious smile curling up on her lips.

You see a few old bullet wounds, some healed while others are still healing. Every single one of them tells a story about who she is and how she has lived her life but your favorite story has always been the one of how she lost her eye.

It was three years ago, the day you met. How could you ever forget?

“Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

Since you were a teenager, you’ve been good at killing. First your shitty parents and every family member who sided with them, including your own brother and sister. Finally being able to control your life, you decided to make a living out of it.

This career put you through college where you earned a chemistry degree, learning how to mix your personal kinds of poison, some of which no one has ever even heard of which makes it hard for the police to find who was responsible for it.

At first, you would go for basic targets: rapists, animal abusers, anyone who dared hurt another soul but word got out of how excellent and quick you were at your job and your number of clients tripled and your name was in everyone’s mouth.

One day, you got a call from a blocked russian number. A smile creeped on your lips as you heard a familiar voice over the phone, Erwin Smith. The man who gave you a chance to grow in this life and made you who you are today, your mentor.

“Y/N, I’m dying.” He says, his voice is faint and you notice his life force is fading away. 

“I can tell.” You reply trying to lighten the mood and he laughs.

“Will you still work for the next boss?” He asks, coughing out a liquid which you could only assume was blood. 

“If that is your dying wish.” You respond and he hums in agreement over the phone, “Then yes.”

Later that week, two men showed up to your house to escort you to Erwin’s funeral. The rain poured over his coffin, hiding away the tears of those who loved him.

Surrounded by at least five men sat a woman in a black coat, her eyes looking in your direction as she took the cigarette to her lips. The tattoos on her leg on display for anyone to see, you could’ve sworn she was silently flirting with you.

And in a moment of weakness, a car drove by shooting up the place completely. Of course they were received with a buffet of bullets as well, but nearly a third of the people around the casket were now dead.

As a bullet makes its way towards you, the brunette with danger in her eyes rushes forward to protect you only to receive the bullet with a glass platter. Needless to say, an uncountable amount of shards found their way into her eyeball.

While she bled in your arms, you tried to make sure she remained awake.

“What’s your name?” You ask and she smiles, bringing your hand towards her lips and licking your thumb with a palpable sexual energy.

“Hanji. Hanji Zoe.” She replied, “The new boss.”

“Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

You may have my number, you can take my name

But you'll never have my heart”

10:05pm

Once you are finished redoing Hanji’s hair, she stares at the closet before finally picking out a blood colored suit. No shirt underneath, she places the blazer right above her nipples, only enough to cover them while allowing the rest of her breasts to be exposed.

You on the other hand plan to dress yourself in a completely black outfit hoping to blend into the darkness of the night. Luck was on your side for there were no stars to brighten the sky, allowing you to take complete cover.

As far as you know, nobody is aware of your relationship with Hanji, not even her subordinates. Keeping business away from your private life has always been a priority, even before you committed your first paid killing.

She places a final kiss on your hands and one of your lips, though it does not feel like a goodbye and you sadly accept any kind of comfort you can find.

When her car is out of view, you decide to go up and take a shower by yourself. You wanted to decline this job, to throw everything away: your reputation, the money and simply run away with Hanji to a place where you could live your lives.

But you can’t. Before even knowing who your targets are, you are always made to sign a consent form and if broken, it would cost you your life.

The warm water hits your face and you can still smell Hanji’s strawberry shampoo in the air mixed with the fading smoke of her cigarettes. You begin to remember every shower you spent together, every kiss you shared at the most exquisite places around the world.

Hanji always knew how to make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Eventually, you can no longer if the water streaming down your face comes from the shower or your tears.

As you finish your shower, you begin to get ready. The black outfit had never been colder and the unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach still remains. While putting a mask above your face, you look at your rifle.

It has your initials and Hanji’s secretly carved on the side and on the other it has the date you started dating. A good luck charm, as she liked to call it.

Tonight will be a fucking awful night.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

1:53am

Hours have passed since you've been sitting at the top of this building by yourself, looking through the binoculars at the party happening not too far away.  In the end, they decided not to send anyone to watch over your shoulder as you do your job.

The richest and most powerful people in town were all attending and, even though they wore masks, you could still tell exactly who they were. The years of analyzing and recognizing targets from afar has given you the extraordinary ability to identify covered faces.

By the bar, you see her as she rests her arm on the glass top. She looks beautiful. Her whiskey brown eyes match the liquid in her cup as the black mask covers her features. For a second, you could’ve sworn she looked directly at you.

The instructions were clear: at 2am, a single bullet should be shot directly to her head, killing her instantly. So you position your gun, looking through the lense as Hanji disappears in the crowd for a bit before returning to her usual spot.

You sigh, stopping the tears that attempt to cloud your vision. Your finger slowly moves towards the trigger, as if time itself is desperately trying to stop you from killing your loved one, but it doesn’t matter. No one could stop you now.

Counting the seconds, you make sure the shot to her head is clear and you pray she won’t suffer at all. “Goodbye, my love.”

Time nearly stops once you pull the trigger. You watch closely as the bullet goes through her brain and blood splatters across the clear counter causing every person in the room to desperately run for their lives, not knowing they are all safe.

Only one man stands in the room and he raises his glass at you for he is the only one who knows no more shots will be fired. The asshole who hired you to kill the love of your life. Fucking Zeke Yeager.

With every ounce of your body, you decide that killing him isn’t worth it. He deserves to live to suffer in the future.

You bring your body back up, beginning to disassemble your rifle. It takes you less than a minute to be on your way and you can hear as police sirens approach the building in front of you.

“Where you go, I go

What you see, I see

I know I'd never be me

Without the security

Of your loving arms

Keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand

And we'll stand”

Finally getting back to your house, you throw the bag containing the gun on the couch before plopping your body right beside it, a long sigh escaping your lips.

Your eyes then notice the packed bags, all ready to leave as soon as possible. The clicking of heels comes from the other side of the house and you smirk, rushing your thumb through your lips.

“I feel bad for the lady you hired to die in your place.” You say, turning around and propping your chin on the back of the couch.

“Would you prefer if I had died in her place?” Hanji asks, rushing her hand through her freshly shaved head in an attempt to get rid of any hairs that still remain attached to her.

“Of course not, love.” You reply, walking towards her before taking the glass of wine from her free hand.

“Hanji Zoe is dead and the witness to it is Zeke Yeager himself.” She says, a devious smile on her lips.

You can’t help but link your mouth with hers, tasting the delightful mixture of alcohols she has had tonight. Her hands travel through your body, exploring every inch of your skin before gently brushing against your inner thigh.

You gasp gently, nearly melting in response to her actions. God knows you want to melt but you don’t have time.

“It’s 4:25am, the plane leaves in 35 minutes so we should go.” She says and you nod.

You grab one of the packed bags plus your rifle and she grabs the rest before extending her hand to you, hoping to walk away from this life with you by her side but not before staging your own kidnapping and death, everything so no one would ever look for either of you.

Once done with arrangements, she smiles. 

“So where are we going to make our new home?” You ask.

“My home is wherever you are.” She replies and you feel your cheeks getting warm before she continues, “But I was planning the Carribeans.” 

“Fuck yes.” Is all you say and she laughs, squeezing your hand as you both say goodbye to the apartment you’ve shared for years. Leaving behind a life of danger to live together in the house of your dreams, far away from all the negativity.

Just you and Hanji. And maybe a few cats and dogs along the way.

“Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall”

[drwcn]

maybe after today’s acls training i can finally write that chengqing ER oneshot. 

— “Patient male, mid-twenties, motor vehicle collision, eta 3 mins” 

— “What no vitals? No GCS? ETA 3 mins? Who’s on the paramedic team?!” 

— “No one….Dr. Lu hit someone with her car on her way out of the hospital.” 

【A Midnight Conversation in Your Local ER】- Complete

[1] 

The night hunt had gone to shits.

That much was undeniable.

Jiang Cheng heard the panicked shout of his disciples just as he saw the array that he had stepped on.

Fuck.

The ghost of an once mediocre demonic cultivator wanna-be was going to bring Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wanyin - the Sandu Shengshou - to meet his maker. The irony of the situation would be laughable, if he wasn’t so irrevocably screwed.

That was his last thought before his entire body was engulfed by a blinding light and the world he knew disappeared.

The ground beneath his feet gave away, weightlessness paralyzing his body though he did not fall. He felt…launched, his body warping and squeezing and stretching, the air sucked from his lungs into the endless black vacuum.

But just like that it was over. Jiang Cheng barely had time to make peace with his death before his feet touch solid earth again.

Or at least….he thought it was earth, this black, tarry hard thing striped with yellow and white. He stared at it dumbly, breathless and disoriented, barely able to react when a loud blare assaulted his senses and his world went blindly bright yet again.

This time there was pain.

Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu, ready to fight, but then his head hit the ground and everything went dark. When he woke up again, an indeterminate amount of time later, he was in a small tube and had a distinct feeling he was not wearing pants, socks or shoes.

How the fuck do you ‘scan’ a cat???  

[2]

Method actor. The nurse, from the other side of the curtain, mouthed silently.

“Sir, can you tell me your name.”

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wangyin.”

The resident paused, awkwardly contemplating how to continue. “Uh…..which is it? Jiang Cheng or Jiang Wanyin?”

“Jiang Cheng, zi Wanyin.”

“Traditional parents?” The resident tried to crack a joke, but it fell flat. The strange man stared up at him with a blank look in his eyes and a frown that was rapidly deteriorating into a scowl. The resident cleared his throat and cast his eyes back onto his clipboard. “Uh, ahem, just the name on your ID please.”

“My what?" 

"Your personal ID….like a driver’s license?”

“Cultivators of the gentry fly on swords or ride horses. We do not rely on carriage valets.”

“Eh… right. Uhm, can you tell me how old you are and what year it is.”

“I’m 39, and the year is jiachen.”

Lu Qi frowned from where she stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her resident and medical student work. 39? He looks like a college student. But he also thinks he can fly, so I guess age is the least of our worries. 

“Jiachen.…?”

The M3 fished his phone out from his scrub pocket pocket and typed it in. “Sounds like the ganji system, like an old timey way to record year used in the past.” He whispers clandestinely to the resident.

“….Right. And uh, do you where you are?”

The man scowled at him. “Am I supposed to?” 

The resident scribbled something on the chart, and then looked up with a plastered awkward smile. “Well, thank you Mr. Jiang for your patience. Wang Fei here is the medical student on our team. He’s going to stay and ask you a couple more questions if you don’t mind. Afterwards we’ll confer with our attending and the team will be back to see you shortly.”

As he turned away, the R3 grimaced and shared a look with Lu Qi, who was the youngest attending physician in their ER, but was not technically working at the moment and so was not on the case. And technically, as the perpetrator who hit Jiang Cheng with her car, she had a severe conflict of interest.

At least this Jiang Cheng dude didn’t seem keen on pressing personal charges against her for MVA or suing the hospital in general… but that being said…

Yeah, they’re going to need a psych consult. 

Unless he’s on acid. 

Well… okay, psych consult either way. 

[3]

"It’s okay, you can relax.” Jiang Cheng said, waving dismissively at the woman standing by his bedside. “I’m not going to take you to the magistrate for hitting me with your carriage - car. You didn’t mean to, and I just came out of nowhere.” 

“....Thank you.” 

“You’re not Wen Qing. I know that now. Your name is Lu Qi. You can call off those psychia - psych - psychics - head healers - or whatever, I’m not crazy. It’s not my fault, you just… look so much like someone I used to know."

"Wen Qing.” Lu Qi echoed. 

“Yeah. Wen Qing. She was a healer - a doctor - like you, but different.” 

“I see. What happened to her?"

"She died. Almost twenty years ago."

"I'm sorry... that's awful.” Lu Qi’s response rolled off her tongue so well, because she had said those word a thousand times during her residency. So much so that it no longer had much meaning to her. Tonight however, she meant what she said. “Were you two close?"

"No, well…yes, maybe. No we weren’t exactly friends if that’s what you’re asking. She...operated on me. Without my consent or knowledge. Took my brother’s golden core and put it in me and then lied with my brother to my face about it. So no we weren’t “close”, but Wen Qing saved my life - well the purpose of it anyway. Saved me from a life of ordinariness.” 

Lu Qi did allow herself to dwell too much on what the fuck a “golden core” was, because her gut response was almost instantaneous. “That’s shitty of her.”

She clamped down on her tongue. 

God, why did I have to say that? To his face?! He was obviously in love with this Wen Qing person and they were encroaching on some dangerous emotional territories, but Lu Qi swallowed down her caution and plowed on nevertheless. There were things she felt she had to say, and since she’d already hit him with her car, how much worse could this shit get? “What I mean is she shouldn’t have. Not without telling you. Besides...there’s nothing wrong with ordinary.” 

Jiang Cheng chuckled bitterly. “Maybe you’re right. Still...she didn’t deserve to die. What her clan did was not her fault.” 

Now that threw Lu Qi off. Did this guy...kill her? 

Lu Qi half wondered if she stumbled upon a Yakuza-esque member whose psyche finally snapped after years of murder and violence. And yet, he seemed perfectly coherent, no flight of ideas, no tangential thought, no hallucations. Even his delusions seemed...logical. 

I must be the one losing, damnit.  

Jiang Cheng scratched a little at his chest, as if palpating for the “golden core” that he spoke of. "She saved my life, but when she needed help, I couldn't save her. But, if I were to go back… I can't say I'll choose differently. My clan needed me, my clan who was almost cleansed by hers. No, no I wouldn’t choose differently. I don’t regret my choices, but I am sorry. Sorry to her, sorry to my brother. I'll always be sorry that she died, and that I failed her when she needed me." 

Jiang Cheng had no idea why he was telling this stranger any of this, but maybe after twenty years, he was finally ready to address this guilt that he lived with. I mean who else was he supposed to tell? Jin Ling? It was nice, to have that face as an audience, receiving his words of confession. 

"She would forgive you." 

Lu Qi had no idea why she was offering absolution as if she had authority in this matter, but when she said it, the conviction she felt was so real, it was almost as though some external force was acting through her.

Which was ridiculous of course, but... 

"How do you know? You're not her." Jiang Cheng shook his head. “I wouldn’t forgive me.” 

"No, but you said she was a physician. So she should know, more than most, that sometimes there is no choosing who gets to live or die."

Jiang Cheng fell quiet at that, and his gaze grew distant. Lu Qi thought perhaps he was no longer seeing her as she was in front of him - white coat, scrubs, stethoscope -  but someone entirely different. The tension he held in his shoulders slowly eased, and he sighed. In the silence that stretched between them, Lu Qi hoped that this strange man with his strange past could find a sliver of peace. 

[4]

— Did you love her? 

— I thought so, foolishly, but maybe I didn’t. Even if I did, it was not well enough. 

— Do you love her still? 

— No... I don’t know. It’s been too long...but sometimes, late at night when Lotus Pier is quiet, I think I do. 

...

— Are you ashamed of it? 

...

— No. No I’m not. 

[5]

The patient known as Jiang Cheng left AMA, that is, against medical advice. It was the term they used sometimes for people who just up and leave without informing the team. 

Lu Qi had gone out to check on his labs, which came back with bonker numbers (I mean really, a hemoglobin of 455, sodium of 200, and a HCO3 of like...3?), but Jiang Cheng was gone from Bay 6 when she returned. The nurse made the overhead page, a code yellow was called, but four hours later, Lu Qi was ready to admit that she was never going to see this Jiang Cheng ever again. 

Somehow, she was okay with that. She had said what needed to be said.  

Her chief had given her a call on her cell and told her to go home and sleep. The guy didn’t look like he was gonna press charges, let’s count our blessings and move on. But the night had just been too damn strange that Lu Qi was all wired up from it and couldn’t possibly fall asleep. She had handover at 10 anyway. There was a change of clothes and toiletries in her bag. She could always take a shower in the anesthesia staff’s on call room and sleep until then. 

Dr. Sun was the anesthesia staff on-call tonight and was currently stuck in trauma OR. They were buddies since medschool; she’d understand.

Sighing, Lu Qi took a seat on the bench across from the bougie cafe in the lobby of the hospital. At this hour, it was the only one still open in the entire facility. The drinks they sold cost an arm and a leg, but Lu Qi needed the pick-me-up after the night she had. 

As she nursed the last bit of her matcha latte, two bickering voices pulled her attention to the front entrance. 

“Aiyo, A-Liang I already said I’m fine! I don’t need to be here!” 

“Fuck out of here with that bullshit, Chen Zhaoxi. You fell off the fucking roof! If Wu Kun hadn’t called me, you’d have gone on -”

It was him! Lu Qi shot up. It was Jiang Cheng! 

But no...no it wasn’t him. The well-dressed man dragging the second man (dressed in red pajamas) into the hospital was not Jiang Cheng. He had the same face - chiselled, handsome, scowling - but it wasn’t him. For one, his hair was trimmed short and neat, unlike Jiang Cheng who looked like he walked straight out of a BL xianxia tv drama. Secondly, his face was softer, eyes younger, and he couldn’t have been older than Lu Qi herself in her early thirties. 

“I was just trying to get to the litter of kittens trapped -”

“Yes, yes, and it was very heroic and I’m sure it would’ve made Wu Kun very horny, and you morons probably would’ve fucked once he got home had you not made a valiant attempt at breaking your neck -” 

“Excuse me,” the security guard manning the information desk chastised sharply. “It’s 4am. This is a hospital! Lower your voices, sirs.” 

“Sorry.” The men apologized sheepishly. 

Then, A-Liang, Jiang Cheng’s doubleganger asked, “Could you please direct us to the ER? This is my brother, he fell off a roof.” 

Lu Bin had no idea what possessed her to interject. “I can take you there.” 

All eyes fell on her. She walked towards them, heart pounding. 

This can’t be happening, this kind of thing just can’t happen... 

A-Liang’s face broke into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Miss -” Then his gaze trailed to her badge, and he corrected himself, “Dr. Lu. I’m Shen Liang. This is my brother Chen Zhaoxi. I think he fractured...well multiple things, please help him.” 

“Of course, come with me. Let’s get him a wheelchair. If he fractured is leg, he probably shouldn’t be walking.” 

“I didn’t fracture -” 

“You, you shut up.” Shen Liang rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He can lose three out of four limbs and say ‘ t’s but a flesh wound’.” 

Lu Qi couldn’t help but chuckle as she put an arm under the complaining Chen Zhaoxi and helped him towards the wheelchair. 

Shen Liang’s smile widened. 

[Extra]

“Holy shit, took you long enough!” 

When Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui finally dragged Jiang Cheng to their portal site, Jiang Cheng realized that the transportation talisman had created a channel through realities between what looked like two metal garbage dumpsters in a back alley behind a food establishment marked by giant yellow bunny ears.

Standing guard there, Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen were each munching on a strange layered bread and holding tall drinks contained in...what was it called again? Right. Styrofoam. 

“What is that?” Jin Ling wrinkled is nose at it. Brat. 

“It’s a Big Mac.” Replied Lan Jingyi as if Jin Ling was stupid. “And this is a milk shake.” 

Jin Ling scowled. “I said the bag of gold I gave you was for emergencies.” 

“Yeah but we were hungry.” Ouyang Zizhen defended. He neglected to tell them that the cashier had refused to accept the gold and instead asked for “cash” or “card”, neither of which they had, so Zizhen used a liiiiil confounding talisman he learned from Wei Wuxian. They did leave more than enough gold though...and that ought to cover the restaurant’s cost for their “burger”lary . Reaching into the brown paper bag he held under one arm, Zizhen pulled out a little box that opened to show pieces of... something. “These are chicken nuggets. They’re delicious! Try one! They’re really good with this sauce....hold on...” 

Lan Sizhui sighed. “We don’t have time for this. The portal will close soon. Let’s get Jiang-zongzhu home and we can sample these exotic food later.” 

The boys agreed. 

Jiang Cheng shook his head and huffed. 

[whump-town]

In With The New, Out With The Old

Hotch packing Jack up for college

None of it feels real.

For two years after he and Haley divorced he lived in an apartment of boxes. It was some sort of punishment he created for himself while also creating a dissonance he could be lost in -- that he didn’t need to unpack just in case. He had his suits in the closet, his work would not take the fall for his personal life’s failings. The coffee maker sat on the counter, one of the only appliances hooked into a light socket. The necessities followed -- two mugs for coffee, a glass tumbler for the whiskey sitting on the counter, and one plate for when he ordered take-out he couldn’t just eat out of the box.

It had taken him months to buy a mattress, he was perfectly miserable sleeping on the couch. He had only taken Jack to the apartment once, needing to switch into more park-appropriate clothing. Between them, he and Haley agreed that the best thing for Jack was consistency so he would spend all day with Hotch but he would always go home to Haley. He knew this could be used against him in court, Haley could take Jack from his so easily it terrified him but he also knew he’d let her. He was more powerful, he had more strings to pull and more people on his side but the thought of getting on the stand and having his friends call her a bad mother made him feel even worse. So he knew that if it came down to it, he would let Haley have Jack rather put either of them that sort of grueling case.

This was a shared thought between them. Both are aware of the other’s power over the other. Neither will act on their own.

He had only bought a mattress because of New York. Limping home he’d sunk down into his old faithful couch only to wake up the next morning with achingly stiff sutures in his leg and his face stuck to a throw pillow, the blood drying like glue. He had to call Emily and Derek that afternoon. Unable to drive himself with his concussion and consequential blurred vision Emily had come over to pick him up, never said a word about what he’d been sleeping on in the months before. Neither did Derek when Hotch got too dizzy coming up the stairs, the stitches in his leg bleeding through his jeans and so pale Emily had to hold him upright to get him to the bench in the lobby. He was left there, listening to Derek and Emily bicker their way into forcing the mattress into the apartment through the pounding sound of blood rushing in his ears.

That was years ago and yet they’ve created its mirror image once again in his living room.

All of Jack’s belongings in boxes spread out in every room of the house. Packing up to leave.

“Art?” Emily mumbles disapprovingly. She’s knelt down in front of Jack’s bookshelf, dismantling the organized shelves to pack them into boxes. It’s a different method than the one that Hotch uses. Jack has them categorized by author and general theme and as Emily takes down all the books she’s gotten him about cults and psychology and crime she can’t help but feel a little cheated. Jack knows all about crime. He’s had Macdonald’s Triad memorized since he was five -- could give that method of thought its critical analysis as not a precursor to antisocial or serial killer behavior but more as a demonstration of a child’s poor coping skills or as the indicator of a dysfunctional home environment. He’s a well of information about cults, knows the “B.I.T.E.” system.

And he’s throwing all that away because Hotch took him to too many museums as a child?

Jack doesn’t say anything when he hears her grumble about art again, he’s had this conversation so many times. He knows she’s not really mad and she’s not even that irked but she needs to do something with the feelings she has about him leaving and this is just the best way she’s come up with. Better than crying -- which she’s also done far too much of.

“I think art is a great idea, kid.” Derek teases his hair as he passes, sweaty and hot from dragging Jack’s belongings around the place.

Hotch works slowly where he’s been assigned. They all work around him. He’s more freelance than the others. His job is to do what he can and leave the rest for someone else. Today his physical capabilities are not in the way. Derek does all the heavy lifting that Hotch knows is supposed to be assigned to him, it’s his duty as the father of the freshman moving away. He finds himself in the living room, one of Haley’s old photo albums on his lap. Thumbing pictures he can remember going with Haley to print. Pictures he can remember being in. Ones that he took.

He’s crying again.

Emily comes out with a box of books on her hip, having figured out the perfect ratio of books to box to prevent them from falling out the bottom. She sees Hotch wiping his face with a tissue, hiding away but unable to fully pull away right now. The hurt raw. The fear is too much.

The second that Hotch got the chance he left home and never came back. Over the years he returned to his hometown only when he had to -- when Haley’s parents couldn’t be convinced to come to see them. It didn’t matter how down bad he was, Hotch did it on his own. When his mother died when he was thirty he’d talked to her only once since moving out. Then it had only been for the benefit of Sean, who he had driven all the back to Virginia to collect and drove to college.

He fears Jack will do the same and it terrifies him in so many ways.

His own death will come quickly, he knows he’s only made it this long because he’s not alone. Without Jack, there’s no reason to keep going on, not with the way his body aches from years of abuse and neglect. More than that, he knows what growing up that fast did to him. As a child, the things that happen to you are out of your control. Children are sponges, not yet able to take control and mold themselves. So their reactions to abuse and neglect and even just trivial everyday things are but a reaction they are taught to form or never corrected on. But Hotch never corrected his behaviors as a young adult. He couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, not at twenty, or thirty, and still at forty.

He spent his twentieth birthday on the side of the highway in a broken down car freezing his ass off with negative twenty-three cents in his bank account. No one to call because he couldn’t bring himself to believe anyone would come -- but Haley would have, or Jessica, or the sociology professor who gave him his number for emergencies or “just anything you can think of, just in case you need me”.

He doesn’t wish anything like that on Jack.

The cycle of self-destruction and fear and loathing.

But Jack knows how to form healthy relationships with people. He’s more worried about Hotch.

The car ride is nearly silent.

Jack cranks his window down and lays his head on the seal, lets the wind blow his hair back from his skin, and closes his eyes. There’s no air conditioning but it’s not that bad. The air has cooled off, the thunderstorms taking over the area sucking the humidity from the air as the wind picks up. It’ll get bad again in a day or so but today is nice and Jack wants to enjoy it. To sit contently with his dad and just try to soak it in before he’s thrown into the world of college.

Emily had promised him several times she’d make sure that Hotch didn’t turn himself into a hermit. Jack has grown up watching those two spar off so he knows she’s perfectly capable of getting Hotch out of the house. More than that, Jack knows he’s just going to miss his dad.

“Please--” Jack’s in the middle of trying to reorganize his stuff when he sees Hotch come in with one of the big boxes, one of the heavy ones. “Dad!” Jack takes it from him, not listening to Hotch’s complaint about being able to carry a few boxes. That he won’t break that easily. “Please, just leave the heavy stuff to Emily and Derek. Help me put my clothes away? Please?”

He nearly cries again folding Jack’s t-shirts away. Once upon a time, Jack’s shirts were about the size of his hand. Tiny delicate little things about the size of rags. Now he’s wearing the same size as Hotch, a grown man standing there racing to beat Emily to the heavy stuff because he doesn’t want her lifting it all either.

“Well,” Derek announces, setting the minifridge down, “that’s the last of it.”

Emily offers Hotch her hand and he takes it, grunting as he moves his body back upright.

“Well,” he declares, looking around the room. “We’ll leave you to it. Let you get everything sorted out how you like.” Hotch smiles and Emily and Derek step in to take their hugs, imparting half-wise ideas and a no-questions-asked ride home from anywhere.

“I love you,” Hotch says, he’s quick because he knows he can’t keep his composure if he stays here for too much longer. “I’ll send you care packages, you’ll just have to text me if you think of something I don’t send.”

Jack nods, pretending to make himself busy putting away the rest of his clothes. Trying to downplay his own feelings.

“Ok.”

Hotch nods and they leave, he doesn’t want to make a scene. They’ve hugged and Jack needs to unpack. He’s done. He’s only two doors away when he hears Jack’s door gets thrown open.

“Dad!” Hotch turns and stumbles, an armful of the little boy who was once the size of his forearm. He squeezes Jack tight, laughing through his tears when Jack holds on. “I love you too.”

Hotch holds him for a solid minute, just balanced there with his hand on the back of Jack’s head. “Alright,” he whispers. He sniffles a little, smiling as he cups Jack’s cheek wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I’m just a phone call away, okay? Any time of the night, you know where I am. You’ll be fine. You’re going to make mistakes and you’re going to fail tests and cry over boys and drink too much but you’ll be okay. And-- And if you’re not…”

Jack nods, smiling as he says, “I’ll call Emily.”

Hotch smirks, “well.. After a certain hour, yeah I suppose you’ll have to but yeah. Just call, okay?”

“I’ll call.”

Hotch nods and he has to force himself to let go and walk away. To let Jack do this.

They’re halfway down the hall, far enough away now that Jack won’t see or hear when Hotch starts to cry. He forces himself to keep going. Not to look back. Emily takes his hand, squeezes his fingers and he looks over at her tears in his eyes, and tries to smile.

Emily drives his truck home, she plans on feeding him chocolate and ice cream, and wine this afternoon to improve his mood. He gets a text and he smirks, he actually laughs.

“Let me know when you get home, old man. Tell Emily not to keep you out too late.”

[strawberrysoup]

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 1

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever. 

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 3.3k chapters: 1/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

Cleaning rich people’s vacation homes hadn’t been your dream job growing up. You had such high hopes when you were a kid, well into your teens, of becoming a zoologist. It had started off like most kid’s dreams—in kindergarten you wanted to be a veterinarian. That grew into wanting to become a herpetologist, but then you wondered, why limit yourself? As a zoologist you could be around tons and tons of animals, studying their behaviors and ecological impacts. It was about half way past your fourteenth birthday that you realized none of your dreams mattered.

You woke in the middle of the night to a crippling pain in your stomach, an unbearable heat boiling under your flesh. You must’ve been screaming, because your parents burst in frantically—only to stop dead upon stepping past the threshold. At the time you had no idea why, but it had been shock. Omegas were rare nowadays, more and more betas were being born while the number of omegas dropped. It was a point on contention; betas could breed with alphas, rendering the omega almost obsolete but alphas, especially ones with packs, wanted omegas.

Personally, you figured that evolution had decided to take things into its’ own hands. Everything about omegas spat in the face of adaption; they were small and delicate, hardwired to obey alpha commands even to their own detriment, experienced a full weeks’ worth of being completely and utterly incapable of survival on their own—

Well, unless one acquired (through whatever means necessary) methods to prevent it that one. Heats, a homegrown threat guaranteed to commit acts of violence at least twice a year. By the time your first had worn off, your parents had already jumped into action. They had three different packs bidding on you. Your mother had been bubbling with glee, talking about how wonderful it was that she had produced an omega when she herself was a beta. Your very existence was about to rocket them into both fame and fortune. So, you ran away. That same night.

It had been shockingly easy to locate illegal suppressants. They taught all about them in school, how they were horrible and taxing on an omega’s physiology. Suppressants masked an omega’s scent, prevented their heats, and (in your opinion) were the best invention of the twenty first century. You couldn’t have given a flying fuck about what negative impacts they might’ve had on your body—death would be a reprieve. Unfortunately you’d yet to have any of the widely touted negative effects (effects that you were pretty sure were made up to keep omegas afraid and compliant) and so you found yourself cleaning rich people’s vacation homes just over the Canadian border.

You’d been living out of your car since you first bought it at sixteen, for five hundred dollars. You gave a creepy beta a blowjob to get your license forged. It was the best investment you’d ever made (not that you had the opportunity to make many) and the clunker was still getting you from point A to point B and that’s all you needed. You had to move constantly, staying in one place too long meant people started to notice you, especially in the small towns you frequented in Ontario. But there was so much forest surrounding you that every once in a while you could just drop off the face of the earth, camping so deep in the woods no one would stumble across you. It made staying anonymous so much easier.

That was actually the current plan, after you finished cleaning this last massive cabin; to abscond into the woods for a while, until you’ve faded from everyone’s memory. You won’t return to this town for at least a year. You’ll spark recognition when you return, but not enough for anyone to consider you more than an outsider in their close-knit community. The kind woman who lets you work for her cleaning company so sporadically will remember you when you ring her, the only person particularly thrilled to hear you’re back for a few months.

You do an excellent job and you do it fast— you can thoroughly and perfectly clean a 6 bedroom mansion by yourself in less than 10 hours and you were paid under the table so you didn’t require overtime, which Mrs. Hunt loved (there was no tax to be taken from an unreported cash payment though, so it was a fair trade in your opinion). You would work yourself to the bone, 10 hours a day everyday there was work available for at least three months and then dip without any expectations until the next time you returned, when she was gushing over the amazing reviews your work had gotten the last time you were around.

It was symbiotic existence—you were paid well for your efforts, more than enough to sustain living out of your car for months at a time, and your performance drove her online reviews into the 4.9 stars range and made it feasible for her to raise her prices. Mrs. Hunt didn’t ask any questions either, even when you requested to only work alone and couldn’t provide any identification beyond a driver’s license.

You were finishing up the kitchen in what was definitely one of the nicest places you’d ever cleaned when your phone went off in your back pocket. It made your skin prickle. Very few people had your number and you couldn’t think of a single reason they’d ring you instead of texting unless something was wrong.  You propped the mop against your shoulder and dug out the phone, frowning at Mrs. Hunt’s name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Oh sweetie, I’m so glad I got a hold of you! How are you doing?”

“I’m well, Mrs. Hunt,” you answered, your voice coming out semi-robotically as you strained not to sound panicked while continuing the conversation like a normal fucking person, “I’m just about done here, I was finishing the dry mop in the kitchen when you called and then all I need to do is pack up.”

“Oh perfect! I was calling because the owner just rang me, apparently some of his packmates will be arriving a bit earlier than anticipated—potentially within the next hour. Something about someone getting caught up at work, I’ll spare you the details. But if you’re almost done then you’ll probably be gone by the time they arrive.”

“Certainly Mrs. Hunt,” you’d immediately started frantically dry mopping the moment the words ‘within the next hour’ escaped the woman’s mouth, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder. “I’ll be gone in the next few minutes.”

“Now even if you aren’t its okay,” the concern in her voice meant that your own had betrayed you, waivered when you responded without your knowledge. “I always warn the owners that if they arrive before the scheduled time that there’s a possibility the house won’t be done and/or there might be people actively working in the house. You won’t get in any trouble, okay?”

“R-Right, thank you ma’am,” you swallowed heavily, finishing the last swipe across the tile in the kitchen and hustling back into the foyer. “I really won’t be but a minute though. I always keep all of my equipment put away and together if I’m not using it, so I really just need to pack up the mop.”

Which you’d already shoved into the rolling cart you picked up each morning that held all of your cleaning supplies provided by the company.

“Don’t forget your bucket too!” Mrs. Hunt sounded smiley again, “I’ll leave the key under the mat so you can stow your cart tonight. Have a good one swee—.”

“You too!” You might’ve hung up a touch too soon to be considered polite, shoving the phone back into your pocket and running into the kitchen. There was no time to dwell on manners. 

The mop bucket was sitting on the counter, already washed and dried and waiting to be put away. You’d started keeping your things completely put away at all times the same day you’d been accosted by a homeowner who arrived home earlier than expected while you were still trying to pack up. You’d tried to put your notice in that night, a couple of years ago now, but Mrs. Hunt begged you not to—promised it would never happen again. This must’ve been her best attempt at preventing it. At least you had already planned to leave town tonight anyway.

You nearly sprinted back to the cart, haphazardly tossing the stupid bucket on top and wheeling it towards the huge front doors. You’d just stopped to reach around and grab the handle when the knob turned and the left door was pushed open, nearly hitting your cart.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he was a beta, curly haired and dark eyed with pale skin, wearing a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Did I knock anything over?”

“N-No, sir,” you pulled the cart back a few steps, nearly trembling with the effort it took not to blast right past him, especially when you noticed him carefully scenting the air. "The house is all clean, I was j-just leaving.”

“Thank you, for getting everything clean for us. We don’t get to come out here as often as we like, I’m sure the place collected a lot of dust in our absence,” he smiled, looking both parts shy and calculating to your well trained eye— and you had no time for such consideration.

“Not too much, h-have a nice night!” You could feel your pulse racing and that was bad. Even the good suppressants, the ones that most of your money went to, had difficulty completely masking the scent of panicking omega.

“Did you use bleach?” The question caught you off guard and you almost jumped when he put a hand on your cart, glancing through the array of chemicals.

“Y-Yes, in the bathrooms. I wasn’t informed of any sensitivities—”

“Nothing a little fresh air won’t take care of,” you wanted him to stop looking at you like that, like there was some pale flash of recognition behind his eyes. “Would you go open the windows in the bathrooms upstairs? I’m afraid my nose is pretty sensitive, several of my packmates are similar.”

You did not like that his nose was especially sensitive and you hated that his packmates were similarly afflicted. It felt like getting punched in the face with a fight or flight instinct, your brain immediately demanded that you leave the cart and run past him—fuck the cart, fuck the job, you could find something else.

“Oh, and do you have the key to the front doors? I might as well get them from you now instead of us having to go down to the office tomorrow.” Your hand immediately dove into your pocket, yanking out the single key and dropping it in his palm. “Thanks— and the windows? Sorry, I just can’t go up there until it’s aired out.”

He wasn’t a huge man but the way he filled the doorway made you second guess trying to run past him, even if he was greying at the temples and looking a little rumpled. It was strange, you wouldn’t usually have such an intense reaction to a beta, but something about him was vaguely unsettling. So instead of trying to make a run for it, you turned on your heel and forced yourself to calmly walk up the stairs. There were four massive bedrooms in the cabin, each with its own bathroom and you’d need to go through and open the windows for the three bathrooms that had them. It meant darting into huge bedrooms, dodging expensive furniture and knickknacks and trying not to dirty the freshly mopped and swept hardwood floors in the process.

It took about five minutes but you felt like you’d run a marathon, your heart was pounding and there was sweat at the nape of your neck. All you wanted was out of the stupid fucking house, immediately. You dashed down the stairs and turned the corner, seeing your cart right where you left it. The door was still open too, but the beta was no where to be seen. You immediately darted forward, grabbing the cart tightly and beginning to push it past the threshold—

You were stopped in your tracks at the sight of two unnecessarily broad alphas. Both were tall, the white man standing just an inch or so taller, with a full beard and blond hair. The black alpha had facial hair too, a cleanly edged goatee to match a faded cut. Both were incredibly attractive and putting off waves of pheromones, to the point that your head floated for a moment.  Your lips clamped shut on a whine, instinct trying to push through and alert the two powerful alphas of your presence. Instead you ducked your head and continued out the door.

“Hi there, sweetheart.” Your gaze snapped up, immediately locking with a pair of dark brown eyes. “You the housekeeper?”

“Yes sir,” you answered quietly, stopping short in front of them when neither moved out of your way. “Sorry to have been here so late. Have a good evening.”

Both were still smiling, still pointedly not moving.

“My name’s Steve, that’s Sam,” the blond’s nose twitched, just slightly, and you realized he was very discretely scenting the air. “Nice to meet you. Do you live in town?”

“N-No, please excuse me,” you nudged the cart forward just an inch but they still didn’t budge and panic began coursing through your blood with renewed vigor, “excuse m—”

“Your scent is… confusing,” Steve’s head tilted to the side, “I don’t mean to be crass, of course, but I couldn’t help but notice.”

“It’s always been this way,” the response was automatic and your brain began shutting down all unnecessary functions; you were about to have to run and hope your omega physiology would make you faster than them.

“You smell almost like an omega,” he continued, both hands coming to rest on his hips, emphasizing the width of his shoulders. “But not quite?”

“I’m a beta.”

“Are you sweetheart?” Sam’s voice was a rumble, his head tilted to the side while his dark eyes burned holes into your skin.

The tone an alpha used with naughty omegas was deliberate and tightly controlled, the same as a command or a purr or a growl. It was on purpose, an attempt to nicely draw out the correct response. He wanted you to admit you were an omega, to tell them the truth of your own volition. The fact that your hindbrain desperately wanted to comply was a completely different issue—one you didn’t have time to address right now.

“Positive,” you breathed, clenching your fists tightly around the handles of the cart for just a second before deciding to leave it behind; you’d never be coming back here, there was no reason to worry about preserving your job.

Your eyes were quick and indefinitely perceptive. Being an omega was one step up from being a prey species, it came with inherent instincts that made you especially good at predicting behaviors. After all, an omega was only as good as their ability to please and soothe packmates. One of the single upsides to being an omega was that you were fast though—fast enough to outrun most alphas. And you only needed to go about a hundred and fifty feet, once you were in your car you could certainly get away. So the second you realized the pair was about to shift, moving to face each other more than you, you darted around the cart and dodged to the left.

It wasn’t your fault, honestly. There was no way you could’ve known you weren’t dealing with normal alphas. The blond was so fast that he almost moved between blinks—one moment he was still, the next he’d wrapped his arms around you and tugged you back into his chest. His arms were like steel, one wrapped around your torso to keep your arms pinned to your sides while the other carefully held your chin. Your hindbrain was screaming now, submit, submit, make alpha happy and you bit down on your tongue to hold in the whimpers, the omega sounds your throat was trying to produce.

“Shhh, shh, calm down,” it was half a tone away from being a purr and you continued to squirm while you still could—an alpha command was coming, you could feel it in your bones.

“Let Steve smell you,” Sam was rumbling instead of talking again, a similar half purr to how Steve had started speaking. "Everything’s okay, omega.”

You felt a nose nudge down your neck, towards your scent gland and you bared your teeth at the man in front of you. “I’m not an omega!”

“You smell like omega,” Steve’s breath ghosted over your skin and you fought a shiver. "Sort of. It’s buried, under… beta… sour beta?”

“What sort of suppressants are you on, sweetie?” You startled as the beta from earlier emerged from the house, wiping his hands on a dish towel absently. "Are you cutting them with anything? Heroin, or coke? It’s okay, you just need to tell me.”

“Tell Bruce sweetheart,” Sam coaxed, automatically moving to roll up the sleeves of your shirt, evidently looking for track marks. "Where do you get them?”

“I’m not on suppressants!” Your voice was almost a shriek at this point, desperately imitating the behavior of an angry beta rather than a terrified omega. “I’m a beta! Get off of me!”

“Okay, okay, here then,” Steve’s arm around your torso tightened, the one on your chin beginning to work its way down towards your jeans. "There’s only way one to tell for sure.”

Shock and fear and humiliation; an array of emotions swarmed through your body as his hand popped the button but those were the three you could identify and you immediately started thrashing your legs—he was going to check if you had an omega ridge and then everything would be over. It was a defining physical characteristic that couldn’t be passed off as anything other than what it was: a boney protrusion meant to catch on an alpha’s knot so they could be locked in place. In females it was found in the vagina, prominently featured directly before the g-spot so a knot would cause persisting pleasure. For males it was similarly positioned next to the prostate.

“Calm down, calm down!” Sam crooned, hands coming up to cup your face as while Steve’s slithered down the front of your jeans and into your panties. "It’s okay sweetheart, no matter what. Whatever Steve finds, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

The thrashing was doing nothing but tiring you out, you’d already been intensively cleaning for the past 9 hours without a break and it certainly wasn’t dissuading the hand slithering between your folds. You bit down on your tongue harder, until you drew blood to prevent the whimpers—you couldn’t make that stupid sound, you’d never make that stupid, pathetic, whiney noise, you couldn’t. Not even when a long, thick finger penetrated and sunk knuckle deep. Not even when the pad of said finger brushed your g-spot before hooking onto the ridge, tugging gently in a way that would’ve caused blinding pleasure had you not grounded yourself with the pain of biting your tongue.

“There it is,” Steve’s voice was soft, finger carefully running the length of the ridge. "A nice deep one too.”

“How long have you been taking suppressants?” Bruce prodded quietly, coming to stand next to Sam. “I need to know what sort of damage we’re looking at.”

When you didn’t respond Sam sighed, fingers brushing gently over your chin as he directed you to face him. "Please don’t make us use an alpha command, sweetheart. We just wanna take care of you. Tell Bruce how long you’ve been on suppressants, please.”

You regarded the handsome alpha for several short moments before spitting a mouthful of blood directly into his face.

 content warnings: assault, noncon vaginal fingering

edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus

[raleighcarrera]

best of me

ride or die | logan x mc (ellie wheeler)

a picture of logan and ellie in their thirties for @rodappreciationweek and the time capsule challenge 🌼

tags: @choicesarehard ; @lovehugsandcandy ; @pixeljazzy ; @troublemakerinspace ; @zigtheeortega ; @jaxmatsuo

~2.3k words | T

“mr. wheeler!” 

logan looked around the parking lot, squinting into the sun. one of his students was running at him full speed, holding his cell phone aloft and waving it around excitedly. “what’s up, alex?”

alex drew to a stop in front of him breathlessly. “i got in,” he said, lips splitting into a big grin. “cal tech, i got in.”

“hey, that’s awesome!” logan said, reaching out to clap the student on the shoulder. “congrats, alex. that’s a huge accomplishment.”

“dude, thank you so much for your recommendation,” alex said, nodding enthusiastically. “you’re honestly the best teacher i’ve ever had.”

“give yourself some credit,” he smiled, “you worked hard, and cal tech is lucky to have you. just don’t forget to come back and visit, yeah?”

“for sure,” alex agreed. with one last grin, he was gone, and logan finished getting his things in the car so he could head home, the rest of the students and faculty in the parking lot of mar vista high well used to the roar his devore’s engine made by now, after three years of teaching.

ellie’s car was already in the driveway when he arrived back at the house, and logan frowned when he parked on the street and jogged up the walk to their front door. it was early for her to be home; usually his day ended well before hers. as he walked inside, he wondered absently if the fact that she’d had an early afternoon meant she’d started dinner, and if he was possibly lucky enough that she was making that noodle thing he liked so much.

“ellie?” his keys landed in the bowl by the door with a familiar clink, his shoes kicked off one by one on the mat. “babe?”

“in here!” the stressed-out voice of his wife filtered in from the spare room. as soon as logan took a step towards the hallway, there was a sudden and aggressive rapid tap-tap-tap on the hardwood floor, and their dog ran at him at full speed, jumping up onto his legs with an excited bark.

“hey, clark,” he said gently, bending down to scratch the dog behind his floppy ears, “everything okay in there?”

the pointed silence that followed seemed to speak for itself. he followed the hallway down to the spare bedroom and found ellie sitting on the floor, surrounded by ripped-open cardboard boxes and indistinguishable small plastic pieces.

before logan could ask what she was doing, she frowned up at him and said, “i’ve been trying to put this baby carrier together for three hours.”

he arched his eyebrows at her, looking over the small mess she’d created in the middle of the room. “you’ve been here for three hours?”

ellie pulled a face at him, her lips twisted into a grimace. “morning sickness that lasts all day again,” she explained, scrunching up her nose. “jack caught me coming out of the bathroom and sent me home after lunch.”

“oh, no,” logan said sympathetically, dropping down onto his knees on the one free space of carpet. “i was hoping that’d’ve gone away by now.”

“you and me both,” ellie sighed, puckering her lips at him for a quick kiss. “i guess it was too much to hope for a baby without a rebellious streak a mile wide.”

“i’m still holding out for your dimples,” he grinned, “and that laugh. as long as the baby gets both of those, they’ll be set for life.”

“the baby is five minutes away from sleeping on the floor. i’m about to trash all of this and go take a nap.” the downtrodden expression on ellie’s face tugged at his heart in a way her cute little sighs always seemed to manage to. logan was already smiling when she squinted up at him hopefully and asked, “will you help me try to put it together?”

as if there was ever a chance he’d say no. “’course,” logan answered, “two heads are better than one, right? although you are an engineer...”

“believe me, graco is going to be hearing from me,” ellie grumbled, rolling gingerly to the side to shuffle awkwardly out of the way of the pile of pieces she’d already started putting together. she was just a few months along but already starting to show and moving about differently for it, unaccustomed to her new shape. “there is no reason these instructions should be more complicated than my master’s thesis.”

logan laughed, leaning over to take a peek at the paper spread out between her legs. “hey, they’re not so bad.” he easily snapped two pieces into place, forming the base of the carrier. “there we go.”

“show off.” ellie rolled her eyes, pushing another piece his way with a disdainful sniff. “i’m still calling them to complain.”

“and you totally should,” he said easily, “because they suck and you’re brilliant.”

“exactly,” she agreed. without looking up he could tell that her eyes were narrowed, her lip curling further with every piece he added onto the carrier, the methodic click of each settling into place ringing out loudly in the silent room. finally, ellie groaned, “god, i hate you. i knew this would be so easy for you.”

“okay, but that’s what i’m here for,” he reminded her with another soft smile, reaching out with his free hand to squeeze her knee. ellie huffed when he continued to turn a plastic screw one-handed. “to handle all this shit for you so you can relax. i know you have the hardest job, here.”

“you are the most annoying person i’ve ever met.” ellie’s sigh sounded wistful. when logan lifted his gaze he found her staring at him adoringly, her eyes wet. “i love you.”

“i love you too, baby. any idea what you want for dinner?” he looked away to concentrate on lining two tiny pieces up, frowning when they wouldn’t stick quite right. “come here for a sec, yeah? need some tiny fingers.”

ellie shot him a look, but leaned over anyway, wiggling her hand in the tight space he indicated until the two pieces sealed together with a pop. “maybe i don’t need a refund on my degree after all.”

“they should’ve paid you to take it,” logan agreed indulgently, nudging his shoulder gently against hers. “dinner?” he prompted again.

his wife groaned theatrically, flopping back onto the carpet. her arms and legs spread out like she was making a snow angel, disturbing the bubble wrap and cardboard that littered the room. “i want sushi,” ellie said sadly, “and a wine spritzer.”

“what about apple cider?” he asked gently, eyes still on the baby carrier even as one hand felt blindly for her calf and dug its thumb into her muscle for a massage. “it’s almost the same thing.”

“it’s not even close,” she sighed. “but fine. thank you.”

“you got it. why don’t i finish up in here, and you see what we have in the kitchen? it’ll just be a few more minutes.”

“rub it in,” ellie muttered, rolling slowly to sit up. “okay. i feel like i should do something nice for you. maybe i can make that noodle thing you like.”

logan beamed at her, leaning in to steal a kiss. “that’s sweet of you, babe. thank you.”

ellie laughed, kissing him back before she asked, “why do i feel like this was all an elaborate set up to get me to make your favorite dinner?”

“because you’re a naturally suspicious person?” he guessed, lifting his hand to smooth her hair back off her face. “i don’t know.”

“i think it’s because you’re too charming for your own damn good.” but ellie was smiling when he pulled away, and that was all that mattered. it was the only goal he ever had. 

“no such thing,” logan smiled back, gently nudging her away. “i’m right behind you.”

“yeah, yeah,” she said, waving dismissively, “show off.”

he watched her walk away, staring until she disappeared around the corner, and then turned back to the mass of plastic and screws that was slowly starting to resemble an actual baby carrier. squinting down at the instructions, it was only a matter of minutes before he had the rest of it assembled, and then a few more while he backtracked, checking over his work to find where he’d missed the one remaining piece that had been left over.

he took the time to clean up in what was eventually going to be their nursery, eyes sweeping over the boxes and gifts that cluttered their spare room. there was a ways to go before they were anything even close to ready for the baby, and he knew ellie’s due date would be here in the blink of an eye.

would he ever really feel ready? it seemed insane, when he sat and thought about it -- he and ellie were going to be parents. more than home or dog owners or two people with jobs and bills, it seemed like a responsibility he felt no where near prepared for or equipped to deal with. sometimes he still felt like a stupid kid himself.

though he had absolutely no doubts about ellie. ellie took to every kid she met like a natural -- his students adored her, riya’s twins thought she was the greatest thing in the world and were still only lukewarm where he was concerned. the kids in the program they volunteered with couldn’t get enough of her.

she kept their house running and all their plants alive. she kept him so happy he was delirious with it, in a way that had felt utterly foreign at first but now seemed so common. 

enviously, he knew she’d be mother of the year without even having to try.

the rest of the room was tidied on autopilot as logan remained lost in his thoughts, and when he finally made his way into the kitchen it was, to his delight, to the tune of ellie in the middle of making his favorite dinner, the room smelling as amazing as the sight of her rushing around so domestically looked.

his heart gave a weak lurch as he stepped up behind her at the counter and wound his arms around her waist. his nose pressed into the dip at her shoulder with a sigh. “all done. next stop... crib.”

“don’t remind me,” ellie groaned, “my dad has been on my ass for weeks.”

logan winced. if there was one thing he knew about detective wheeler, it was that he was just as opinionated as his beautiful daughter. “maybe he could come with us to pick it out.”

“maybe he could mind his own business,” she suggested instead, stirring the boiling pot of pasta on the stove. “he acts like he knows everything there is to know about babies.”

“well,” logan said, nosing at the hair at the nape of her neck, “he did raise the most amazing person in the entire world. maybe we should give him some credit.”

“okay, kiss ass,” ellie laughed, “he can’t hear you. but fine. if you really want, we’ll all go next weekend.”

he shrugged. it was personally something he felt indifferent towards, but a few extra points with ellie’s dad never hurt. most of the time he was pretty certain detective wheeler still wanted him dead. “i think that’d be nice.”

“i bet you do,” she murmured, twisting around to hold the spoon she was holding out. “taste.”

he did, chewing and swallowing slowly. “it’s done,” logan said sadly, knowing the words meant he’d have to move away. ellie laughed as he pulled his arms back and went to set the table instead.

he headed to the fridge for the bottle of sparkling cider, making a show of popping the cork like champagne and pouring ellie a generous amount into the giant wine glass she hadn’t been able to use in awhile. she rolled her eyes at him as she put the serving bowl on the table. “it’s not the same.”

“it’s pretty close,” he argued, lifting his own glass up and swirling it like he’d seen many pretentious people at restaurants that made him uncomfortable do. “it’s a beautiful vintage,” he declared, as though he had any idea what that was supposed to mean, “with notes of... apples.”

gratifyingly, ellie dissolved into giggles, shaking her head. “i can’t stand you,” she said fondly, all smiles. he grinned back at her, lifting his glass to his lips. 

“to the baby,” ellie said suddenly, lifting her glass, too, and bumping it into his.

“to you,” logan corrected her, clinking his glass into hers a second time.

ellie narrowed her eyes at him. “to you.” their glasses knocked again.

“nuh uh,” he countered childishly, “you’re the baby’s mom.”

“you’re the baby’s dad,” she laughed, bouncing up on her toes to try to get at his glass even as he lifted it above his head and twisted out of her way.

“this is ridiculous,” logan grinned, “just let me toast you, oh my god.”

“no, it was my toast,” she said, jumping up and splashing apple cider out of her glass and onto the floor, “stop trying to hijack it!”

“okay, okay.” he held his hand out to concede, backing away to drop into his seat at the table. ellie followed suit, smirking triumphantly at him. she still loved to win. “to all of us, jeez. me and you and the baby.”

“to all of us,” ellie repeated, and this time, their glasses touched gently, the sound barely audible over the giggles that were building up in her throat again.

he flashed her a goofy grin before he tipped his head back and drained all his cider in one go. 

sure, it might’ve been nice to have had something stronger, but --

“mmm,” ellie sighed, smacking her lips as she set her glass down, “you were right. this is so much better.”

[reidingandwriting]

Chapter Three: “Your Obedient Servant”

“You’ve kept me from the room where it happens for the last time.”

Word count: ~2450 words

Warnings: Shitty parent, verbal abuse from mother, language, bullying, brief mention of alcohol, mention of guns, implied murder, typical Criminal Minds-esque details towards the murder but nothing graphic.

Characters mentioned: Neutral!Reader, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Aaron Hotchner

Original characters: Reader’s mother and father, Este and her family, Lara, Andrew Walker, and Abby. 

Mentions of: David Rossi, Erin Strauss, and Penelope Garcia

A/N: And here we are! Chapter three! I think I have marked all warnings but if there are any I’ve missed, please feel free to let me know! As always, feedback is always appreciated. This chapter is kind of background of reader focused and I’m so sorry for that. I hope y’all can enjoy anyways and enjoy the turn made towards bringing everyone in. Next chapter will fully bring the team in and I’m excited! That’s enough out of me, enjoy the chapter!

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Eight years old…

“What in fresh hell are you doing?” A voice came from your doorway, one that belonged to your mother. You didn’t look up from where you laid on the floor, a colored pencil in your hand and a coloring book was spread out in front of you. Your room was illuminated by the lamp on your bedside table, it being well past your bedtime.

“Coloring. Couldn’t sleep.” Footsteps got louder as your mother approached and you flinched as she snatched the book up.

“What time is your bedtime?”

“Eight-thirty.” She cleared her throat. “Ma’am.”

“And it’s midnight. So your ass should be where?”

“But I wasn’t making any noise.” Your eyes met your mother’s and her harsh glare made you look back down. “In bed.”

“That’s right.” She grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, and you tried not to wince. “If I come check on you and catch you out of this bed again, you’re gonna be in so much trouble, kid.”

“But what if I can’t sleep?” You asked as you climbed back into your bed.

“You’ll fall asleep eventually.” Your mother turned off your lamp, the warm glow of the room now being replaced by total darkness. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Your mother walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. You listened for a minute to make sure she was really in bed before you pulled your stuffed animal to your chest and screwed your eyes shut.

“Unfortunately.”

Sixteen years old…

“Happy birthday, kiddo. The big sixteen.” You smiled as you held your phone, sat on the bench outside of school as you waited for your mom to pick you up. Your dad was on the other end of the phone, and you had to admit you missed him. “Still up for your visit this weekend?”

“Are you? You pulled a Mom and bailed on me last time.” Your words could sound harsh to anyone passing by, but there was no malice behind them, just a teasing smile. And you could practically hear your dad rolling his eyes.

“Brat.”

“Yours truly.”

“I promise, nothing will stop me from seeing you this weekend. It’s not every day your only child turns sixteen.” A sigh from the other end makes your heart clench. “I miss you, kid.”

“I miss you too, Dad. I can’t wait to see you.” “Ditto.” Muffled voices were heard in the background before your dad spoke again. “I have to go, but I expect to hear all about your birthday extravaganza Saturday.”

“You mean my trip to the bookstore with Este and dinner with her family? Mom’s too busy with her new fu-”

“Uh uh. It may be true, but don’t finish that sentence.” You could hear the smile in your dad’s voice, mixed with irritation. “I love you, sunshine.”

“I love you, Dad. See you Saturday.”

“See you then.” You hung up and tucked your phone into your pocket, opening the book that sat in your lap to read as you waited for your mom to pick you up from school.

You were delved deep into your book, the sound of the athletes practicing in the nearby fields fading into silence as you let yourself become entranced in your book. You didn’t notice the looming shadow of Lara standing over you.

“Well, thanks, Y/L/N! I’ve been looking for a new book.” You jumped when you heard her voice. She snatched the book from your hands and you reached for it, but she was quicker.

“Give it back!”

“Really? David Rossi?” Lara scoffed and tossed the book over her shoulder where it landed in a pile of mud by the sidewalk we were on. “Whoops.” Lara walked past you, her shoulder knocking harshly into yours. “It’s too easy with them.” Lara said to herself and you ran to your book, and your eyes watered as you knelt down to pick it up, the book being covered in mud.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.” You whispered to yourself as you held the book and tried your best to wipe the mud off it. You sighed in resignation and walked to the trash can a few feet away and set the book in. You were going to the bookstore tomorrow, you could replace it then.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when a car honked and you looked up, noticing your mother’s car. “Come on, we’ve got places to be.” Your mother yelled from the open window and you nodded.

“Coming.” You called out and jogged over to the car, throwing your backpack into the backseat before you got into the passenger seat.

“What’s wrong with you?” She gestured to your red eyes before she noticed your dirty hands. “Gross, how old are you?” She slapped the back of your head and you digged for napkins in the glove compartment while apologizing repeatedly.

“I’m sorry. Lara threw my book in the mud and I tried to save it.”

“Those were weird books anyways. She did you a favor.”

Twenty-two years old…

“Look at our college graduate, Jess.” Este’s father, Phil, smiled from the head of the table. “Look out, world, you’re not prepared.”

“I will not be taking over the world until Y/N is. They still have one year to finish their master’s degree. So I’m taking a gap year. Maybe I’ll go husband hunting.”

“Or, you know, do something that’ll look better on your job applications.” Este’s sister deadpanned.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You nudged Este with your foot and gave her a playful warning look. Este stuck her tongue out at you and you mirrored her expression.

“I wish Y/N would have majored in the same thing as you, Este.” Not even fifteen words out of your mother and the whole atmosphere was brought down. Why couldn’t she be with Joe? Jonah? J-something. “Instead of aiming for the FBI, where you’re not even guaranteed a job.”

“Which is why I majored in criminology. Minored in digital forensics. And I’m earning my masters in forensic psychology.” You responded, not sparing her a glance.

“And if you still don’t-”

“I think my credentials will be impressive regardless.” You paused as the waitress stopped by, setting everyone’s plates down. You thanked her as she left, before looking at your mother. “Even if I don’t immediately get offered a job, I don’t mind. I can work my way to the FBI. I don’t get bored of something within a month.” Bella’s eyes widened and Este smirked to herself as she took a sip of her drink.

“I would sure hope not! College would have been a bad idea if you couldn’t work at something for a month.” Jessica, Este’s mother, tried to joke but your mother was relentless.

“I hope you fix your personality before you apply or they’ll never let you in through the door.”

“You don’t like it? I learned from you.” Your mother stood from her chair, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I’m done.”

“Drive safe.” You called out to your mother’s retreating form and rolled your eyes as you turned to Este. “Drinks?”

“Drinks.”

Twenty-five years old…

“So, you’re about halfway done with your training at the Academy.” You sat across from your field counselor, Abby. “How have things been?”

“Andrew and I had some… creative differences with firearms training.”

“Creative differences?” Abby asked and you thought back to the day.

You had missed the vital shots multiple times, and you and Andrew both were getting irritated at each other. What was meant to be motivating turned snarky, which had started to turn condescending. You started off getting close to your vitals, and with each negative comment, your concentration turned to frustration which led to further off shots.

“If you could make these three shots so I can leave, that would be great. Come on, how are you going to ace rifle training but not handgun? I might as well talk to our program director and tell her your future in the Academy and FBI is a deadend. But if she ever needs a sharp-shooter…” And something snapped inside you, and you shot the five targets in front of you perfectly. Alternating between head and chest shots, straight in the middle. Bullseyes. You turned to face Andrew, walked towards him and set your gun in his hand.

“You may leave now.” You walked towards the doors of the firing range and called out. “See you tomorrow.”

“I see.” There was a hint of a smirk on her face as she spoke. “You know you can’t let people get to you like he did. It may have benefitted you this time, but there will come a time where you’ll reach your breaking point and lose your temper at your superior and risk your job.”

“You know about my parents, it’s kind of genetic.” You sighed. “But I will work on it. I know I need to.”

“Good. And I’ll have a word with Andrew about his motivational methods.” You let out a laugh before your session continued.

Thirty-one years old…

You sat in Hotch’s office and your body language screamed ‘angry.’ Your arms were crossed over your chest, your foot tapped against the floor, and if that wasn’t enough, the saying if looks could kill truly applied to you right now. If looks could kill, Aaron Hotchner would be a pile of dust in his chair. But like usual, Hotch’s body language was as usual. Professional, stoic, cold. He’d warmed up to the rest of the team, surprising you that he wasn’t truly emotionless after all. But that persona never came out around you. All that came out was indifference at best. Disapproval at worst, often paired with anger. Disappointment. That’s all you’d ever be, huh?

You had been called to Hotch’s office after you got back from your latest case. You’d never seen Hotch as mad as he was then. To anyone else, it might seem like he got mad because he cared about you and your wellbeing. But that was not the case today. You didn’t follow his orders, and now you were to pay the consequences.

“I am slow to anger, but I toe the line as I think about the effects of your choices on the team. I look back on where we failed, but in every place I checked, the only common thread?”

“Let me guess, me?” You interrupted.

“Your disrespect.” Hotch narrowed his eyes at you.

“You call me inexperienced, a danger to the team.” You leaned forward as you began to speak.

“Agent, if you’ve got something to say-” You raised your hand, cutting him off.

“Name a time and place, face to face. Then we can really talk.” You rested your hands on his desk, matching the expression he was giving you.

“That is enough, Agent Y/L/N.” Hotch spoke after a minute of your stare-down, and you settled back into your seat.

“I’m just an agent, trying to do my best for our team. I don’t want to fight but I won’t apologize for doing what I believe was right.”

“Careful, Y/N, or it’ll be the end of your career at the BAU. Not mine.”

“I won’t apologize for my actions, if that’s what you’re looking for.” You shrugged.

“Then be prepared to meet with me and Strauss tomorrow morning to discuss your placement on this team.” Hotch leaned back in his chair.

“Are you fucking serious? Every agent on this team has gone against orders. Even you have given the middle finger to direct orders several times. I make one call that goes against your orders, one that allows us to save the hostage and take in the unsub, and now you’re threatening my career?” You scoffed and looked your boss in the eyes as you stood up. “Unbelievable.”

“Nine sharp, agent.” Hotch kept eye contact with you as he spoke.

“Oh, I have the honor to be your obedient servant, sir.” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door as you left.

Today…

You sat outside Andrew Walter’s house, lying in wait. Andrew lived in Baltimore now, having quit his job to work at a local FBI field office. You think a federal agent would have been more private about his life; it didn’t take Penelope Garcia to figure out where he worked. Where he lived. You had been waiting for the perfect moment to revisit him, and now you had it. Now was all waiting for the window of opportunity to hit. The window to open just enough for you to seize your chance and show him what all you had become since you graduated from the Academy.

The last light flickered off in his home and you looked down the street. No cars moving, no sounds of laughter or conversations could be heard from your spot. It was almost eerily silent, but there was a rush of an unknown emotion flooding through you. You tucked your gun into your waistband, snapping your gloves into place, and adjusting your hood over your hat. You got out of your car and walked up to the house, a smirk on your face.

---

“Come in.” Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, JJ standing in his doorway.

“I know we don’t typically take cases only involving one person.” JJ said as she walked over to Hotch’s desk. “The detective thinks there is a possibility it could be related to the Fairfax murder.”

“And do you?” Hotch held his hand out for the file and JJ set it in his hand before taking a seat.

“The possibility is there, but the similarities are basic. Both victims were men who died by gunshots. But our Fairfax victim was married, this guy is single. And in Baltimore. There’s a bit of distance between the two cities, but definitely a doable drive.”

“We’ve seen further.” Hotch opened the file and his brows furrowed. “And he died by gunshot?”

“There was some blunt force trauma involved, but the M.E. says the cause of death was the gunshot wound. All the other injuries were sustained antemortem.”

“Personal?”

“Or was our unsub physically incapable of subduing him before injuring him?” A beat of silence.

“Everyone else is here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We have a case.”

Taglist: @spideyspeaches @ssa-sugar-tits @willowsbendtothewind-blog @lazy-bird-fanfics @spencerhotchner @lolychu @ajeff855 @averyhotchner @meowiemari @liagzs @herecomesthewriterwitch @colorful-quinn @haylaansmi @theroyalsaikou @boring-yet-creatively-odd @drreidsconverse @notyourcupofteax @catherine-nelson @reids-mismatchedsocks @lieswithoutfairytales @devilswaldorf @panhoeofmanyfandoms @sassiest-politician @yoshigguk @httpeacewitch @feedthemadness-sweetie 🤍 Taglist and requests are OPEN, send an ask/message/whatever makes you comfortable to be added or send a request :))

[daiseukiis]

: ̗̀➛𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙞 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙞 ?

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

─꒱ in which we peak into how jujutsu kaisen characters handle their child on a daily basis。

─꒱ feat. gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara & itadori yuji

─꒱ warnings ; none

─꒱ notes ; suddenly i’m having jjk as parents brain rot after a night of reading megumi smut

─꒱ JJK AS PARENTS PART TWO

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

─── ➴ GOJO SATORU

꒰꒰ he’s a great dad trust me, spoils his child like no one’s business. you want the entire set of the haikyuu manga and crunchyroll premium? give him five minutes to purchase them. want front row tickets to see nct in korea? yeah, he’ll get it for them and thats plane tickets on first class

꒰꒰ but don’t get me wrong,,, he’s a doting father but sometimes it might be just too much.

꒰꒰ for starters, mans gotta know where their kid's heading on a daily basis. gotta shot him a text that heading to shibuya with your friends or taking a flight to okinawa or hokkaido. he just wants them to be safe !!

꒰꒰ expect him to text his kid almost every time he’s out buying anything. he’d be all the way in osaka, they're in class they will randomly get a text from him if they want uncle rikuro cheese cake or kuidaore taro pudding.

꒰꒰ not to mention !!! he will text you it’s an emergency and they have to call him, a matter of life or death situation. knowing he’s a shaman, he could die but there’s like a percentage of a chance that could happen, it's percentage rivals how fast he can activate his expansion domain. which isn’t much. but when they pick up the phone, he’s just gonna ask the. which top would look better or say there’s a hot deal for these sweets across the street and if they wanna go

꒰꒰ his favourite thing to do it probably embarrass his kid in front of their friends. maybe. yeah. baby pictures and all

꒰꒰ if he has a daughter his father radar is SO high. a boy gives even a glance her way, he will probably threathen them. spoils her with so much it even HURTS to look at his bank account but he's rich so ;;; takes her out shopping and half his camera roll is photos of her or selfies of them

꒰꒰ if it's a guy, he will cheer him on every time a girl confesses his love for his son. probably even gives him condoms and tips but you didn't hear that from me. with no doubt gloat to his students how amazing and manly his son is, takes him out on missions when he wants and goes sweet store hopping with him

꒰꒰ if his child returns home crying for whatever reason, a boy broke her heart or someone beat their kid up for doing the right thing;; bitch gojo is gon beat the shit outta them no cap

꒰꒰ he's the dad every teacher flirts with at parent teacher conferences, and the dad every girl in the friend with has a crush on

─── ➴ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

꒰꒰ amazaing dad, but probably should work more on the expressing it to his kid area

꒰꒰ he won't spoil them rotten like gojo, but if he sees its something that they truly want and sees that it's of use or valuable, he will get it for them because he wants to see his kid smile

꒰꒰ he's not big on affection, probably a hug time to time and an appreciation pat on the head. if his kid falls he would just crouch down and ask if they need a hand, or is their baby girl starts crying he'll pick her up into his arms and pat his head

꒰꒰ if he has a daughter he would be reluctant to go shopping with her, but he does like the fact that his kid is smiling and showing him her outfits. he better have a say as well if there's an attire that shows to much skin, he just wants the best for his girl. if a boy looks her way with a look, he will emit an aura enough for the boy to piss his pants

꒰꒰ if his kid is a boy, you bet hes gonna teach his son to beat up half the delinquents up the area too ‼ he has so much trust in his son, they would spar sometimes and he would take him on to missions. he sucks at giving advice, probably around the words of 'just be yourself?' he won't show it but he's cheering for you

꒰꒰ he's a chill dad, if their kid ever forgets anything at home and he's off to drop it off at school, he would be a bit reluctant cuz why did they forget it to begun with, but he's gonna do it anyways <3 the one parent that everyone calls pretty

꒰꒰ he'll text his kid basic and short messages, a how's your day or do you want anything from here kinda texts when he's out on missions. he wants to be sure that you're given enough space to be yourself within his reach

꒰꒰ fushiguro screams like the type of dad that would have a family photo in his wallet. i just find that cute and UGGH yes <3

꒰꒰ if his kid comes home crying, he's going to immediately comfort them. bad test or shitty day, he's gonna be slightly awkward but he'll take them out for their favourite food or arcade

꒰꒰ he's also the typa dad that will check up on you before he goes to bed or when he comes back from a mission, when you're all asleep just to make sure you're safe

─── ➴ KUGISAKI NOBARA

꒰꒰ listen,,, listen, kugisaki is a bad bitch mother and it radiates that energy

꒰꒰ if she has a kid, she's gonna raise them to be the baddest bitch in all of tokyo, in all of japan if all i care. she gives her kids credit for even trying to beat gojo up, but if they can't she's still gonna be happy if they tell her they kicked a guy's kneecaps in for taking their lunch money

꒰꒰ a little reckless, her parenting methods are a bit questionable but like its kugisaki here, she does whatever the hell she wants. her kid falls to the ground? don't cry pussy, get up you're better than this

꒰꒰ kugisaki's that mother who probably buys take out food every friday, or takes her kids out to a mf buffet only to tell them to pay for her because she gave birth to their ungrateful asses

꒰꒰ she's the most chill mother out there, all her kids' friends probably want to be adopted by her because she's fun and knows how to kick ass

꒰꒰ if she has a daughter, definitely wants them to be famous instead of a shaman. she wants to see her kid rocking those magazines or fuckin it up in movies or j-dramas, so she got rights to stroll through the red carpet as the most beautiful mother

꒰꒰ if she has a son, definitely will end up making him into a loyal, bad boy who knows how to drink his respect women juice on a daily basis. the son who also get absolutely wrecked by his own mother in smash bros. doesn't matter how old kugisaki is, she would still be able to beat her son even if he's a first grade shaman

꒰꒰ if her kids come home crying, i bet you she'll only scold them. she'll ask why the hell you crying over this guy/girl, they're way low of the standards and are not even it. she would convince them that they're so much better (?) to make them feel good about themselves. and then she'll probably head lock the kid to crush on a better person

꒰꒰ she's the type of mother who wouldn't sit down to talk to her kid often, sometimes she also socks at communicate like fushiguro but at least she knows it. she would be the type that would comfort her kid by bring food ( typical asian parent shit tsk iykyk )

꒰꒰ she's also that type of mother when they tell her that someone makes fun of something to the point that their kid is broken by it, she will get out that car and pick at fight with the kids, and then wipe their ass on the floor, and the mop the deck with their parents

─── ➴ ITADORI YUJI

꒰꒰ this man is the personification of a fun, chill and laid-back father

꒰꒰ he would be the dad that would wake their kid up in the morning so they're not late, pack their food or bring food to their school if they forgot to bring any

꒰꒰ he doesn't really spoil his kid, but you bet he'll take them to fun places like arcades, escape rooms and even go street food binging. definitely would have a movie marathon too

꒰꒰ if he's back from a mission early and near the school his kid goes too, you bet he's going to catch them by the end of school just to walk home with them and take about his mission

꒰꒰ he's the kind of dad that wouldn't mind if they're swearing around the house, but they gotta watch their mouth still, he doesn't want them to be as bad as sailor nor does he want them picking up nasty habits

꒰꒰ if his kid is a girl, he will give her space and room for anything, be it needing some time alone after a bad test or constantly wanting to go out with her friends to get her mind off things that he might not be able to fix. he doesn't mind going shopping, definitely would give an opinion to any outfits with a thumbs up. takes pictures with his daughter on any shenanigans they do together and send them to his group chat with kugisaki and fushiguro

꒰꒰ having a boy, he would want to play sports with them and go on missions. sometimes they would go to the arcade to try the punching game to see who has the highest and then bet the lower pays for food after. he likes giving advice, even though it won't be helpful or will be, he's gonna say it either in hopes that it'll be brought up in their head in any moment they're in

꒰꒰ he's the type of dad that has a selfie of him and his kid as a lockscreen i jUST KNOW IT

꒰꒰ if his kid comes home crying he will be so worried. like whats wrong, what happened, who hurt you, does he have to punch someone?! he's going to pull them into his arms and take them out for food, maybe even a walk. he's they type to want to cheer them up no matter the situation, and probably when they're all good and dandy, he will personally talk to solve the root of the problem behind their back

꒰꒰ when there's something to be settled, i bet you that they settle it with a game of rock-paper-scissors out five ‼‼

─── ➴ SUKUNA ( BONUS )

꒰꒰ what makes you think this man wanted a child, if he did have one ; probably either got it killed during the heian era or he killed it for his superiority complex </3

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

DO NOT REPOST 、 MODIFY 、 CLAIM WORK OR LAYOUT AS YOURS.

© MGUQIIS 、 2020

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia Ch.3

WARNING DECEPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK

I understand seeing others go through this can sometimes cause panic or anxiety attacks in some and with the use of some imagery I've used I'd feel better if I gave a fair warning that there is a detailed panic attack early on.

,,,,,,,,,,

Whoever said eight hours of sleep was the right amount for humans has never met an insomniac who just spent the last six days and five nights awake. You hoped that fucker is in hell burning for his sins, he probably has more of them that you don't know of. But with bleary eyes looking at your phone you can barely make out that it's just a little past six in the morning. This is backed up by the slimmers of light shinning through the blanket you put over the window last night. Briefly the thought of keeping it up today passes through your mind as you try to curl into an even tighter blanket cocoon.

Stretching out your legs and toes you let your muscles melt into mush in the warmth and comfort of your bed. Closing your eyes and burying your head back into the pillow, you might not be able to go to sleep but resting is nice too. You're so relaxed it almost feels as if all your limbs are floating and you feel the buzz of energy come surging back through you, you hum along with it nuzzling into the pillows.

'Your car was broken into.' the thought flashes through your mind and has you jolting up right.

Chest heaving slightly as frantic eyes dance along the room that hasn't changed since the night before. The buzzing energy from just a few moments before turns into an icy feeling flowing in your veins. It chills you to your core and you've noticed the tremors in your arms causing you to tremble. There's a sick feeling that bubbles up your throat, as you feel the phantoms of tens of hands grabbing at your arms and torso. They move erratically all over and their grips are suffocating, there's a lump in your throat that you have trouble swallowing down.

Bringing a hand up to your throat you jab your thumb right above or right at where your larynx would be. The slight pain from the pressure helps ease the lump away and you're able to get out a few frantic breaths. You hardly notice the wetness on your face from the few tears slipping free from your eyes.

'Gross, gross, gross, gross.' is the only message that rings clear in your mind as you're assaulted by these phantom hands.

You're aware this is a panic attack, but it does little to calm you down. Putting more pressure on your throat and using your feet to propel you back into the mattress. Vaguely you're aware that tiring your body out should calm you or maybe it's the release of an emotional fit that calms you, you aren't sure which and you don't really care at the moment. So flailing your legs you let your feet forcefully slip off of their purchase as you push your muscles to their full extent with force. It doesn't take long before you can't feel your limbs and are gasping for breath.

The phantoms are gone, no longer touching you as they please, and while the lump still sits at the bottom of your throat making it hurt to swallow and breathe around you can begin to feel calm. Actually it's the numbness that takes over you, not a sense of calm. The sense of an empty shell broken from its exertion. One thing's for sure you can't take your car today. If you had a panic attack just by thinking of your car you don't want to risk actually getting behind the wheel.

Everything feels tense, the muscles in your legs are starting to ache and you're pretty sure you'll have a bruise at the base of your throat.  You check your phone with shaky hands to see it's now seven twelve. If you get up now and leave you think you can probably make it into town by eight forty giving you time to grab something from the Dunkin' on the corner across from the shop. Or you could call out, Nate would totally understand. But just the thought of being alone today sends a chill down your spine and the feeling of those phantom hands start creeping their way back into your personal space.

“I'm going to work!” jumping up and out of the bed, away from the grubby grabby specters.

Running around the room you throw on a pair of black shorts, unusual for you to wear at work but if you're walking you'll have to deal, sweaty jeans are uncomfortable and joggers aren't very cohesive to a work environment. Deciding on a binder made from a breathable swimsuit material for the same reason, sweaty bra is too uncomfortable and bra-less isn't really something you're comfortable with. Grabbing the first shirt you find, it's a black tee with the words “The only man for me is Mothman” printed on it surrounded by little white stars and a chibi lil mothamn.

Looking at your outfit altogether cheers you up. It's casual but cute, not to mention these shorts do a lot for your thighs and butt. But, there's no time to dwell on how handsome you are, you need to grab food and get out the door like ten minutes ago! Grabbing a mask printed with the word 'No' dead center and your headphones you leave your room. With the thought of grabbing Dunkin' before work you settle on a Pedialyte Pop to hold you over during your walk, nausea shouldn't hit you right away anyway. Checking your door was locked, thrice, you started your trek to town.

Most people would complain about having to walk or hike while wearing a mask, often times saying it was hard to breathe under the fabric. But you'd say they just didn't have the right size mask for their face shape. You'd run into a few masks that hadn't been the right shape or size throughout the years but you're thankful that your first three had been perfect. Had they been too big or small you probably wouldn't have fallen in love with wearing masks, they were so comfy and let you interact with people without your voice getting stuck in your throat.

You'd taken to wearing them after high school when you'd taken a job of watching an elderly hospice patient's corgi while her family worked on moving to Virginia and closer to her. Anytime you and little Russel went to visit her you'd had to wear a mask, so instead of wearing the disposables you'd bought a set of three reusable ones.

After noting the change in behavior she mentioned your Autism, she'd been a retired social worker and saw the signs when she met you and after spending nearly 40 hours a week together for half a year she was certain you somehow fell through the cracks. It was a shock to you when she threw out the off handed comment but after stating who your pediatrician was, she was sent into a fit of laughter.

“Anya is a dear and a great surgeon, but I think the cultural barrier has stopped her from diagnosing children for years.” she had said all the while wheezing through the oxygen mask, eyes crinkling in amusement.

She'd sat you down with a list of books to look into and written out all your symptoms, she said if you ever wanted to get tested having the list of symptoms would be more helpful than straight up asking for a diagnosis. Some doctors were too by the book back in the 40s so Autism has rarely been studied in depth. Only in the last decade or so has a movement gained momentum to spread not only a wider awareness of the disorder but also acceptance for it. But to a doctor it would seem like you were grasping for attention at least to anyone who spent less time with you than she had. But without at least six thousand dollars to spend on a piece of paper that confirms what you already know you'll just have to stick to coping by using methods you read about from forums and blogs made by people with Autism rather than their parents or someone who's “very close” to them. And like Mary Anne said before she died, “just because you don't have a diagnosis doesn't mean your symptoms aren't there.”. A statment that reassures you from time to time, when you think you must be faking it for attention. And that somehow you managed to fake tics your whole life.

Snapping out of your memories because you could hardly tell your mask was on, and has been for the past forty minutes or so since you'd finished your pop. It wasn't too hot at the moment and like the previous day Kepler's climate has no humidity whatsoever, a huge change from the coast. Checking the time again on your phone you see the clear white numbers stating boldly that it is eight o' nine. You don't feel any closer to town but figure that's normal when all you've seen is the old over grown road. You feel you should have seen the road leading to town by now,  you hope you see it soon or else you'd really over estimated how long it would take to get to town, then you'd be hella late and sweaty. With the way you still had signal to the spotify you doubt you've even made it far enough to reach the dead zone.

Sighing you look down as you walk hoping to maybe find a rock to kick, walking's really boring when there's nothing to explore and you're on a time crunch. A loud honk takes you out of your head and you startle looking up. Doesn't take more than a second before you see a car stopped in the middle of the road in front of you. It's well taken care of for sure but not necessarily new or anything, you don't know too much about cars other than it looks like a black Camry no wait that's the Hyundai symbol. Some type of sedan then.

The back window on your side of the car rolls down and a man leans out and calls to you, you don't hear him at first. Slipping your headphones down to hang around your neck he repeats himself, “Do ya need a ride?” He has a southern accent on the thicker side, not abnormal for West Virginia but you can tell it's not the same dialect, probably from further down. The man has blonde hair styled in that fluffy swooped faux hawk that a lot of gamers had back in 2017/2018. He's got slight thin stubble along his jaw, not quiet five o'clock shadow so he probably has trouble growing facial hair. His eyes are that hazel color everyone wishes they could have, the kinda that had the orangish yellow glow about them. He looks like a fuck boy.

You're nearly ready to point at your mask in an indication of 'no I don't know you creep' when you catch sight of the driver. A boy around your age maybe who looks apathetic, that's not what catches your eye everyone looses the will to live at some point. What draws your attention is the mask he's wearing on his face. He could potentially be like you, or maybe he's just sick and being considerate, or he could have allergies. Whatever the case may be you can't honestly be considering getting into a car with two random men just because one wears a face mask. Hell for all you know they've orchestrated this situation, they could've been watching you analyzing your every move to know that breaking into your car would send you into a state of panic where you wouldn't use your car the next day or two, then you'd be out in the open to kidnap on your walk to town where you couldn't call for help due to being in the dead zone. Why else would they be this far along the old dirt road?

“Ah...miss?” the southern drawl brings you out of your inner ramblings, and the words cause you to bristle.

“I'm not a woman.” you say calmly but firmly.

“Oh, ah sorry sir.” you can't help but huff a laugh at the quick apology, your eyes catch movement through the window. Oh they have a dog with them, a rottweiler at that. Cool kidnappers with a dog, who's wearing a vest how...wait dog in vest oh he must be a service dog. Cool not kidnappers then, just strangers, nice. Seemingly trans allys, slight common ground with the driver, and a service dog it might be safe to engage...or at least humor these men.

“It's fine, I'm They/Them for the record.” You say approaching the car, you make your way to the man leaning out of the window, somehow the presence of a service dog puts you more at ease, especially when the dog only spares you a single glance before his attention's back on the driver, who's not even pretending to pay attention to the two of you. His leg is bouncing up and down, it's not rhythmic and no one's paying attention even as it shakes the car. Probably has ADHD, your dad does that all the time when he's at a stop light, it's a subconscious movement he even does it in waiting rooms or anywhere where he has to sit still really.

“Oh, well sorry 'bout that Mx.” the man in the window stresses the “Mx” but not in the typical fuck boy way, more like he was reinforcing it to himself. “We just saw you walkin' and wanted to see if ya' needed a ride anywhere.” he says.

“If you're going to town, I'd appreciate one, but I wouldn't want to be a bother.” his smile brightens at this but you notice it doesn't reach his eyes, probably just being polite.

“Sure thing, hop on in.” He moves to slide back but you've already opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. Effectively snapping the driver out of whatever haze he was in to look at you, he looks back at his friend with confusion.

“Hi” you say to the driver who gives his own wary 'hey' in response as you buckle yourself in. The driver looked even more apathetic up close, dark eye bags under his eyes that were such a deep brown you couldn't see his pupil he also had that fluffy brown e-boy hair. Not the frizzy hair marketing itself as fluffy but the type that's genuinely fluffy looking forming soft waves in his hair.

If they are kidnappers they're really bad at it, especially if all you have to do to stun them is sit up front in a seat that has the second most control in the car and can escape quicker if the need arises. However, glancing back at the dog you notice his attention's still on the driver, it would be really dumb if a kidnapper brought their service dog with them to do a kidnapping so you're reassured that it's just two southern boys driving through Kepler. And they happened to spot a “damsel” in distress, so they came to the rescue.

“Oh, don't mind Connor he won't bother you. He's here for Toby right now.” The man in the back says and you see the man beside you grip the steering wheel tighter. You nod in response and feel a tickle at the base of your skull, you'll try holding back the tic to not freak the two out.

Just as “Toby” is about to put the car in drive, a bark is heard from the back seat. A frustrated sigh leaves Toby as his hand leaves the gear shift, scowl clear even on his masked face. You guess Toby needs Connor to let him know when he's safe to drive, it's rude to ask about these things but you can't help but guess why that'd be the case.

Another bark leaves Connor right as your head snaps to the right moving back to place, then right, right, up, and right before cracking violently.

“There we go.” you verbalize.

Toby's looking at you in what you can only guess is shock, not the worst reaction you've had to your tics, meanwhile you notice Brian's looking to Connor who's looking directly at you now. Then his head whips around to Toby and he barks, like clockwork Toby's shoulders jerk forwards and his hands jolt up. Connor looks back at you and gives a bark, your head jerks three times cracking your neck two of those times. Connor's gaze is still on you and you know he'll be in an ongoing ping pong game between you and Toby if you keep triggering each other's tics the entire drive, if you'd even be able to get to that point.

“I'm fine, thank you.” you said looking at Connor while holding the sides of your head, trying to as your friend Emonie once said 'keep the bobble head away'.

Thankfully Connor must have had a training course similar to ones you've helped with because he looks away from you and focuses on Toby, who he gives several barks to. Following those barks Toby pops his knuckles and makes a 'mrrwo' sound, sort of imitating a cat, before his head jerks sharply into his knee that jerked up at the same time. You cringe at the sight knowing that must have hurt, hands still firmly pushing your head you see Connor settle down in the back, still on alert but laying down as if to say the muscle spasms have passed. You won't risk removing your hands, you still need a ride into town and this whole situation's put you behind to where you won't make it if you walk now.

“pfft...” you look back to the blonde and he looks ready to burst with laughter from what he just watched. Heat creeping up your face you turn and look away, sure the situation's funny but you don't know these two men and honestly you just feel so embarrassed right now. Especially with last night's incident at the mini mart still fresh in your memory.

“Will you fucking shut up!” Toby barks out, and the blonde tries harder to suppress his laughing fit. Toby glares at his friend before turning his attention back to the road, hand on the gear shift he waits for an alert before putting the car in drive and doing a U-turn back to town.

It's been a while since you've been a passenger in a car, you actually get to take the time to relax and enjoy the passing scenery as Toby drives. He's a surprisingly good driver, most guys his age are speed demons and always want to see how fast they can get away with driving. Toby on the other hand is abiding by the limit even on this open stretch of road with no other cars. But you guess it comes with the territory of needing a service dog to be able to drive, have to abide by the rules. The drive's quiet, you take it as a good thing that the men aren't trying to question or get to know you. If they were kidnappers or up to something nefarious surely they'd be trying to distract you right now with endless chatter to let your guard down. Especially if they'd been watching you and knew what a total chattering encyclopedia you could be when given the right topic. You're gazing out into the window seeing the sign of the town get closer finally when the thought hits you.

“So, your name's Toby, is it short for Tobias?” turning to look at the man, he spares a single side glance with his furrowed brows before responding with an uneasy 'Yea'.

“Cool, sorry if that was a weird question. Tobias is like the best name I've ever heard but I've only met three Tobiases, including you. Could I call you Tobias or do you prefer Toby?”

“I don't really care.” gotta love apathy.

“Cool, cool. Thanks for the ride Tobias!” you chirp out.

“Hey, forgetin' that I'm the one who offered the ride?” The man in the backseat speaks up.

“No, you just never gave me your name. You said Connor's” and ear twitch is all you get such a good boy, “and you said Tobias'. Never mentioned your own.”

“It's Brian, sugar.” you were correct, this man is a fuck boy.

“Yikes, that's gross.”that was a reflex and it was now Toby's turn to laugh at his friend. The man didn't even hide his snickers even had his shoulders bouncing up and down, you think you even caught a mumbled “I won't hesitate bitch”. Meanwhile Brian sat stunned, guess he was used to people finding his nicknames more endearing, meaning he probably meant nothing by it and it was probably the southern accent but it just made you think of the senior men who'd hit on you back before you moved out here.

“Yea don't call me 'sugar', anyway, I'm YN, it's nice to meet you three.”  Toby just nods as his laughter dies down a clucking sound resonates from his throat, Brian however goes right back to his friendly persona with a 'good to meet ya.' Again it's slightly off, it doesn't feel like he's trying to be polite...it feels like...you can't put your finger on it but it's familiar. Like when you fake a conversation with Nate or your mother on the days where exhaustion is nearly killing you, but Brian doesn't seem tired or sluggish.

The rest of the drive is relatively quiet as you direct Toby how to maneuver the streets and he parks in the parking lot of Dunkin'. While you were getting out you'd asked the men if you could get them anything from Dunkin' as a thank you for driving you. Brian tried to decline but Toby spoke over him with what “they” wanted.

“Ok cool, can Connor have a pup cup?” unsure if service dogs could have treats while working.

Sparing a glance to the good boy in question Toby shrugged “Yea, he's due for a break any-anyway.” he ends with popping his knuckles. You assume Connor only alerts motor tics when Toby is driving or about to start driving, since that tic didn't get clocked.

You repeat the order to the cashier once inside. You also get a frozen caramel coffee and an iced caramel coffee for you and Nate along with a box of donuts to pick from for the day. When she hands you everything you're able to balance Toby's order on top of your box and your drinks in the other hand. Walking out with the help of the next man coming in, nodding thanks as you pass him, you see Toby leaning against his car with Connor sitting next to him, no vest on.

It's terrifying how well trained Connor is, because the dog you left in the car barely paid you any mind. While this hyper pup's tail is wagging at just the sight of you, his paws lifting slightly in a tiny dance as you get closer. But he doesn't dare move from his sit, looking up at Toby for cues and looking at you who holds his treat.  Had you not worn a mask for so long you may have missed the smile Toby gave Connor as he pat the dog's head. The slight crinkles around the edges were a dead give away though. With a quick snap Connor is released from whatever command he'd been held by and runs up to you once you're five feet from them.

Drooling mouth opening and closing in an odd mute bark for a dog this size. You take note of the fact that while he's jumping excitedly and pawing the air he hasn't laid a single paw on you. Whoever trained him knew what they were doing that's for sure. Looking up to Toby you hold the one hand outstretched for him to take his items, a tray with Connor's pup cup and his iced coffee, and a white baggie with three donuts, strawberry glazed, maple glazed, and an apple fritter.

Once he's taken his items you balance your drinks on top of the box. Connor's attention hasn't moved from you even through the exchange. You're a little confused by the pup's antics but he probably thinks he can get a donut off you.

“Sorry bubbie, your dad's got your treat not me.” that dopey little face tilts to the left not understanding you aren't the treat giver at this time. You laugh letting him smell the hand that had the coffee in it so maybe he'd understand you didn't have his treat. He excitedly sniffs you, and gives you a few licks before sitting back right in front of you with a blur of a tail behind him. Such a silly boy, he deserves some chin scritches.

“He's smart, told him you'd give 'im this.” Toby says holding out the pup cup to you, as you bend at an awkward angle balancing food in one hand while scratching his dog with the other.

Connor's a little disappointed when his pets stop but jumps to all fours when he sees the pup cup. His tail is wagging so fast you'd be afraid his butt will fall off, if that was a thing that could happen. You go to put the cup in front of him but Toby stops you.

“Hold on, Connor sit.” As soon as his name was called his bottom was on the ground. “You already know his release word so when you want him to take it just say the release.” He says offhandedly while placing the bag in the passengers seat and his drink in the cup holder. You can hear murmured arguing from inside the car, but choose to ignore it. These guys clearly aren't kidnappers, and if they were it's so stupid to kidnap you in broad day light after you just made a purchase and with literally a street in between you and your work, where your boss is waiting for you.

Placing the cup in front of Connor you didn't think it was possible for him to get any more excited but his tail is now undetectable by the human eye. He looks from his treat to you, back, and back to you. Toby said you already knew the release, and there's only one thing you've said to Connor throughout the trip.

“Thank you.” it's immediate, for such a well mannered service dog on and off duty this pup has no table manners. There is whip cream everywhere it's on the ground, his paws, even behind his head. How on earth did he manage that? This must be Connor's only character flaw because Toby is back with what you can only assume are all the napkins he had received in the donut bag, and service vest under his arm.

Once the pup cup was utterly decimated Connor sat happily, butt wiggling, as his dad wiped the rest of the whip cream off of him. Showing the pup the huge glob he had behind his ear only had him licking it off the napkin before licking his dad's face.

“Wrong.” Toby called, a little bummed the pup calmed down a bit but his tail was still going. Toby paused before he slipped the vest back on Connor. Head jerking back twice he looked over to you.

“You wanna say 'bye'?” you perked at the question, if you had a tail of your own it'd probably be wagging just as fast as Connor's.

Do you want to pet a dog, what kind of question was that? Of course you fucking do. Yea you might be late to work but petting a dog is always worth it. Setting your breakfast and coffee on the hood of the car you bent down with Toby to Connor's level.

If that dog could talk he'd tell everyone you gave the best ear scratches, sure you may have smooshed his wrinkly face a ton. But you were so nice and was that baby coos, ah he loves you new best friend. Connor jumped up when you started cooing and gave you a ton of kisses to the face. You couldn't stop laughing and the repetitive motion triggered a tic. Thankfully your mask was on so Toby couldn't see you tongue poke out repeatedly as you said “bleh” in between giggles.

“Wrong.” he says gently pushing the drooling pup away. Shaking the spit off his hand before scratching the pup under the chin, right where the bottom of his ear met his jaw. The pup instantly melted calming into his handlers touch. With his dog now calm he whistles and Connor is standing up straight, Toby slips the vest over his head and secures it. Connor the puppy has turned back into Connor the good boy working pup.

Grabbing your stuff from the hood of the car you turn to Toby and Connor, “Thanks again for the ride, and for letting me pet your dog.”

You're met with a simple shrug, not much phases Toby you've noticed. Aside from his tics that is.

“See ya later Tobias!” with that you're on your way to cross the street legally, and by that you totally jay walked out into traffic in front of the sheriff. You may have jay walked in front of the sheriff, but he didn't do anything so you're fine.

[thatslikely]

Fred Weasley’s Day Off (Part 1) - F.W.

Fred Weasley’s Day Off- Fred Weasley x Gender Neutral!Reader [Ferris Bueller’s Day Off AU]

Warnings: only occasional mild language

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this is Part 1 of my new 5 part series, Fred Weasley’s Day Off! You can find the series masterlist here. This part is going pretty similar to the movie, but as the story unfolds, I promise it isn’t a carbon copy of John Hughe’s masterpiece. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name, Y/L/N is Your Last Name, and thoughts are in italics.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @probably-peeves @horrorxweasley @weasleywh0r3s​

if you want to be added to be added to my general (or this series!)’s taglist, send me a dm or ask!

If you haven’t seen Ferris Bueller’s Day off or just need a refresher, HERE all all the scenes included in this part in chronilogical order! I HIGHLY reccomend giving these a watch, for they make the situations a lot easier to understand (and they’re hilarious).

----

It’s a beautiful day today, temperatures in the upper 70’s. You can expect plenty of sun and not a cloud in sight. Right now, it’s 75 at lakefront, 74 at Midway, 73 at the O’hare.

“Arthur!” Molly Weasley screeched, beckoning her husband to Fred and George’s messy bedroom. The walls were plastered with large posters of their favorite bands and sports teams (mainly Fred’s), and an expensive computer sat on the desk in the corner. The door to the room was ajar, a frantic mother feeling a haggard Fred Weasley’s forehead.

“What's the matter?” Arthur asked, briefcase in hand.

“It’s Fred, for Merlin’s sake look at him!”

Fred laid slumped under the hand-knitted quilt like a corpse, his hair tousled and his chin unshaved. She continued, “he doesn’t have a fever, but his stomach hurts and he’s seeing spots!” Fred peeled his pained, umber eyes open, his weak gaze pointed to his suit-clad father.

A sympathetic Arthur reached for Fred’s cold and clammy hands, feeling them with a shudder. He’s got a bad cold, he thought, poor boy needs to stay home and rest.

“I’m fine, I’ll get up. I have a test today.” Fred leaned up slightly, his stuffy nose attempting to breathe. His baggy eyes drifted around the room, glazing the empty bed parallel to his’. “No!” Molly and Arthur Weasley stated firmly in unison, pressing his aching chest into the soft bed.

“I have to take it. I-I wanna go to a good college, so I can have a fruitful life.” Fred kept attempting to get out of bed, only for Molly’s gentle hands to guide him back down.

“Oh fine, what’s this? What’s his problem?” Ron leaned against the untidy bedroom’s door frame, his arms crossed, his face donning an unamused expression tinged with jealousy. He was looking daggers into Fred, who reciprocated nothing but a wink.

“He doesn’t feel well,” Molly stated, not pleased in the slightest with Ron’s distasteful demeanor.

“Yeah, right,” Ron rebutted with a scowl. The tips of Ron’s ears seared with resentment for his brother and anger at his naive and biased parents.

“Ronnie? Is that you?” Fred asked, his blurry vision making the outline of his brother near indistinguishable from the rest of his room. “Ronnie? I can’t see that far.” Fred leaned up in an attempt to see his brother, before falling backward with a dramatic moan.

“Dry that one out, you could fertilize the garden,” the younger ginger spat, tapping his toe furiously.

“Ronald, you get to school!” Molly demanded, vehemently gesturing for him to leave.

“You’re letting him stay home? If I was bleeding out my eyes you’d still make me go to school! This is so unfair.” Jealousy oozed from Ron’s clenched jaw like venom.

“Ron, please don’t be upset with me. You have your health, be thankful,” Fred said coolly. His eyes remained glinted with mischief, causing a furious Ron to storm off in a huff.

The concerned mother and father turned back to a wheezing Fred. Molly tucked him in tighter, cooing, “Now listen, I’ll be showing that new family some houses today, so I’ll be in the area. The office will know just where to find me if you need anything, okay?” A wave of gratefulness swept over Fred’s face.

“It’s nice to know I have such loving, caring parents. You’re both very special people.” Molly caressed Fred’s ashen cheek before planting a compassionate kiss on his warm forehead.

“G’bye champ,” Arthur said to his son before carefully shutting his door and walking to the garage.

They bought it.

Incredible. One of the worst performances of my career, and they never doubted it for a second. Fred peeled back the curtains blocking the beautiful view from his large windows with a smirk. He looked out the panes, admiring the gorgeous weather. How could I be expected to go to school on a day like this?

This is my ninth sick day this semester; it’s getting pretty tough coming up with new illnesses. If I go for ten, I’ll have to barf up a lung, so I’d better make this one count. Fred carefully adjusted his extortionate stereo, his fail-proof plan slowly piecing together.

Fred then stepped over to his desk, reaching for an old, hefty soccer trophy of his and some rope. The key to faking out the parents is the clammy hands. He started knotting the rope around the shiny golden award methodically. A lot of people’ll tell you to go for the old ‘phony fever’, but if you’ve got a nervous mother, you could wind up in the doctor's office. That’s worse than school.

“It’s a little childish and stupid, but then, so is high school.”

He scrupulously placed the trophy contraption behind his door with a satisfied nod, proceeding to the bathroom dressed in his grey and maroon striped bathrobe. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Fred undressed and stepped into the steamy shower, quickly shampoo-ing his ginger mop into a spiky mohawk. He gave some thought about his plans for the leisurely day before removing the showerhead, gripping it like a microphone, serenading an imaginary audience, “I recall Central Park in fall. How you tore your dress, what a mess, I must confess…”

----

“Spinnet?” A greasy Mr. Snape drawled, spectacled eyes darting around the dingy classroom, illuminated with corporate fluorescent lights. “Spinnet?”

“Here!”

“Smith?” Silence. “Smith?”

“Present.”

“Weasley?” Snape asked, scanning the room for any signs of the irresponsible redhead.

“Weasley?” he repeated, uninterested and monotone. “Weasley?”

“Um, he’s sick,” a perky Cho Chang cut through the tense silence with a smile, “my best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend heard from this guy, who knows this kid who saw Fred pass out at Florean’s last night! I guess it’s pretty serious.”

“Thank you, Cho,” Snape said impassively.

“No problem, whatsoever!”

----

A robotic ring emitted from the phone next to Lee Jordan’s bed, disturbing the perturbed ambiance of the inert bedroom. The hypochondriac occupying the sheets clicked the silver ‘answer’ button with a shallow sigh.

“Hello?” George Weasley asked, his voice deep and groggy.

“Georgie, babe, what’s happening?” Fred’s exuberant voice questioned from the other end of the line, starkly contrasting his twin’s nonbelligerent energy.

“Very little,” he responded in a trance-like state, eyes spacing out at the blank ceiling, his mind nearly detached from his aching body.

“How do you feel?”

“Shredded.” Half-empty pill bottles and antihypertensive drugs lined the bleak nightstand to his left.

“Get dressed and come on back home. I’m taking the day off,” Fred imposed. He sat in a lounge chair, next to the turquoise pool, soaking in the bright morning sun, which starkly contrasted George’s dark atmosphere. He held a Brick to his ear, sipping an iced Hawaiian drink from a swirly straw. The only thing covering his body was a pair of floral swim trunks; plastic sunglasses rested in the ginger nest atop his head.

“I can’t stupid, I’m sick. I think I got food poisoning from Lee’s awful cooking.”

“It’s all in your head, George, come back home,” Fred said more firmly, taking another sip of the fruity drink in the souvenir cup.  

“I feel like complete shit, Fred. I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Now come on over here so I can have a fun day off!” Fred demanded, hanging up the phone promptly. “Sheesh.”

George remained stiffly on the sheets, still as a statue, muttering, “I’m dying.” The phone chimed again with another call. Click.

“You’re not dying, you just can’t think of anything good to do!” Fred’s voice echoed through the dimly-lit room before the tone of an ended call took its place.

“Pardon my French,” said Fred to no one in particular, “but George is so tight, that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks, you’d have a diamond.”

Fred quickly abandoned the pool deck, instead continuing random antics around the vacant house, whether it was (horribly) playing his centuries-old clarinet, or prank calling gullible freshmen claiming he had an impending kidney transplant. This was the life.

“I’m so disappointed in George. Twenty bucks says he’s sitting in his car debating whether or not he should go out.”

Fred had hit the nail on the head. George sat in his four-wheeled hunk of junk for minutes, muttering to himself, “He’ll keep calling me. He’ll keep calling me until I go home. He’ll make me feel guilty. This is ridiculous! Okay, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go.” He turned the key of the run-down car, only for the engine to cough and heave. “Goddamn it!”

----

“Molly Weasley,” Molly introduced herself to the caller from her desk at the local real estate office. She held the landline phone in one hand, the other scratching numerals and figures onto some spreadsheets.

“This is Dolores J. Umbridge, Dean of Students. Are you aware that Fred is not at school today, Miss Weasley?” she asked punctually, her voice laced with irritation.

“Yes, I am. Poor Fred is home sick.”

“Are you also aware that Fred does not have what we consider an exemplary attendance record? He has missed an unacceptable number of school days.” Umbridge looked icy and collected on the outside, but deep down she was fuming with anger. “I have no reservation whatsoever about holding him back another year.”

“This is all news to me,” Molly replied, taken aback by Umbridge’s blunt threats.

“It usually is.” Dolores turned her attention to the hunky computer opposite her, ready with Fred’s academic profile, scanning the pixels signifying his number of absent days. When she finally opened her jaw to announce the number to Mrs. Weasley with a devious grin, she was horrified to see the number of days slowly ticking down to two.

“I asked for a car, I got a computer,” Fred said with an unamused but smug smirk as he typed lines of code into his computer back at the Weasley household, “how’s that for being born under a bad sign?”

“I can appreciate how this time of year, children are prone to taking the day off. However, in Fred’s case, I can assure you, he’s a very sick boy.” And with that, Dolores hung up on a sympathetic Molly, her tight brunette curls gradually frizzing from aggravation.

“I don’t trust this… Fred Weasley,” Umbridge confided to her secretary, Augustus Filch. “What’s so dangerous about a character like Fred is that he gives good students bad ideas. The last thing I need is fifteen-hundred Fred Weasley disciples running around these halls. He jeopardizes my ability to effectively govern this student body.”

“Well, he makes you look like a bitch is what he does, Dolores,” Filch said with a smirk.

“You’re wrong,” Dolores asserted, fiery gaze piercing through Filch’s soul.

“Well, he is very popular. The sportos and motorheads, geeks, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads, they all adore him. They think he’s some righteous dude,” Filch said astutely.

“That is why I’ve got to catch him this time. Show these kids that you can’t just skip school nine times a semester like he has and get away with it!”

----

Mr. Binns, a prehistoric-looking man with novel-thick glasses, stood at the head of the classroom, giving his usual dull lecture. While he etched utter nonsense onto the chalkboard, you couldn’t help but release a bone-cracking yawn.

After years of sitting in your uncomfortable plastic chair, drowning out Mr. Binn’s boring babble, your saving grace arrived in the form of a grave Nurse Pomfrey.

You quickly slipped on your pale, leather jacket and stuffed your blank notebook into your backpack at the sight of the frail woman donning white scrubs like a dove, eager to escape class. Nurse Pomfrey had on a solemn face as she quickly whispered something into Mr. Binns’ ear before announcing to the uninterested class, “Y/N, Y/L/N, may I have a word with you?” You painted a look of surprise on your face before stepping into the hallway with the disturbed grey-haired woman.

“My dear, I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad tidings,” she said sorrowfully once out of the earshot of the small lecture hall, “your father called. Your grandmother has just passed.”

Your eyes welled with artificial tears, face drenched with heartbreak.

----

The landline echoed through Umbridge’s dreary, pale pink office.

“Dolores Umbridge,” she said pseudo-cheerfully into the handset held by her thulian claws.

“This is Phil Y/L/N,” a middle-aged man said, his voice slathered with a thick Chicago accent.

“How are you today, sir?” Dolores asked suspiciously.

“Well, today we’ve had a bit of bad luck. It’s been a tough morning,” he croaked, “now if you wouldn’t mind excusing Y/N, we have a lot of family business to attend to.”

“I’d be happy to, just produce a corpse and I’ll release Y/N. I want to see this ‘dead grandmother’ firsthand.” She peeled the phone away from her face, smiling valiantly at a mortified Filch, saying slyly, “It’s okay, it’s Fred Weasley. I’m setting a trap for him.”

“Dolores, I’m sorry, did you say you wanted to see a body?” an ill-tempered Mr. Y/L/N questioned in disbelief through the speaker.

“Yes. Just roll her old bones up here and I’ll gladly retrieve Y/N for you. That’s school policy.” Dolores looked so pleased with herself, a devilish smirk resting on her lips. The telephone in Filch’s office chimed, and he quickly dashed to answer it.

“Hello, Dolores Umbridge, Dean of Students’ office,” his gravelly voice answered.

“Hi. This is Fred Weasley. Can I speak to Miss Umbridge, please?” Filch’s mouth went desert-dry in horror, his aged, grey eyes bulging out of his skull. He dashed to a taunting Umbridge, jumping and waving for her to shut up.

“I’ll tell you what, if you don’t like my policies, you can come down here and kiss my-”

“Fred Weasley’s on line two, Dolores!” Umbridge’s eyes went as wide as saucers; her whole face, even her bright fuchsia lipstick, turned as white as a sheet.

She was quick to switch to line two, listening to Fred Weasley’s voice which filled the otherwise silent room.

“Miss Umbridge, I’m not feeling too well today,” Fred started, a smug and valiant grin on his face. He adjusted his clean and gelled hair, which perfectly complemented the perfectly-tailored suit he donned. “Would it be possible for Ron to bring home any assignments from my classes? Have a nice day.”

The only sound left in the office was the droning disconnect tone.

The ‘line one’ buttoned flashed bright red like a siren. With a shaky, wrinkled pointer finger painted with a coat of magenta nail polish, she hesitantly pressed the button, sucking in a breath.

“Mr. Y/L/N, I-I think I owe you an apology,” she said, mortified.

“I should say you do!” the deep voice on the other line boomed. Umbridge peeled open her lips for an apology, only to be cut off with, “Well I think you should be sorry for Merlin’s sake! A family member dies, and you insult me! What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“W-well I really don’t know. I didn’t think I was talking to you, I thought you were someone else,” Umbridge barely managed to spit out. “You know I would never deliberately insult you like that!”

“Find out where she is!” Umbridge hissed to an idle but nervous Filch, her palm covering the phone’s mouthpiece. He promptly scrambled around the surrounding metal filing cabinets, reaching for various binders and manilla folders.

“This isn’t over yet, do you read me?” The infuriated voice’s threat yelled into the frantic principal’s ear.

“Loud and clear, Mr. Y/L/N!” she responded while scouring the various sets of drawers for Y/N’s schedule.

“Call me sir, goddammit!”

“Yes sir!”

----

“That’s better. Mind your P’s and Q’s buster, and remember who you’re dealing with!” an exasperated George Weasley shouted into the kitchen’s phone, his voice at least an octave lower than usual. His look of fury was soon replaced with a smile from ear to ear, quite proud of the convincing-ness of his impression.  

A dashing, suit-clad Fred Weasley soon strutted into the lemon-yellow kitchen, charismatically introducing himself, “Weasley, Fred Weasley.”

George held his palm over the mouthpiece of the phone, asking, “I’m scared. What if she recognizes my voice?”

“Impossible. You’re doing great.”  

The self-conscious redhead brought the phone back to his ear, shouting “Umbridge!” furiously. Groaning echoed from the other end of the line. “Umbridge, calm down!”  

“I don’t have all day to bark at you, so I’ll make this short, and sweet. I want my child outside of the school in ten minutes by themself!”

Fred gave George a harsh tap on his shoulder, hissing, “That’s too suspicious! She’ll think something’s up!”

“You do it then!” the other twin whispered back.

“Talk.”

“You!”

“Talk.”

“Fine!” he fizzled. “Umbridge! Pay Attention!” The magenta-suited principal was scuttering around her office, frantically searching for your schedule and something to repair the escalating situation.

“Umbridge! Changed my mind. I want you out there with them, I’d like to have a few words with you!” Fred swiftly slapped the phone from George’s clutches, causing it to fall on the tile carelessly. The identical gingers both scrambled for the phone, ending up in George’s grasp once again.

He yelled to the mouthpiece rapidly, “On second thought, we don’t have time to talk right now! We’ll get together soon and have lunch!”

Fred kicked George’s rear hard, causing a small yelp to escape George’s lips. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” he spat at Fred, who quickly slammed the phone back to the base.

“Where’s your brain?” he harshly asked his irritated brother.

“Why’d you kick me?” George retorted, hurt.

“Where’s your brain?”

“Why’d you kick me?”

“Where’s your brain?”

“I asked you first!”

“How are we gonna pick up Y/N if Umbitch is out there with them?” Fred rhetorically asked, seething.

“I- I said for them to be alone and you freaked,” George stated, reverting back to his timid tendencies.

“Now, I didn’t… I didn’t hit you. I lightly slapped you.”

“You hit me.” Tension sliceable with a butterknife filled the kitchen.

“Look, don’t ask me to participate in your stupid antics if you don’t like the way I do it. You make me get out of bed. You make me come over here. You made me make a phony phone call to Dolores Umbridge? That woman could expel me, expel us, and then, you deliberately hurt my feelings!”

“No… I didn’t deliberately hurt your feelings,” Fred said, his words tinged with guilt. “What’re you doing?” George grabbed his red hockey jersey and keys that previously laid on the island.

“I’m going back to Lee’s, Fred. I need some rest. Have a nice life.”

“No, no, c’mon. Don’t do that, George,” Fred pleaded ruefully, “George, come back. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I’m sorry.”

“You serious?”

Fred gave a slow and sincere nod. George swiveled back around, setting his belongings back on the counter, his face lightened slightly.

“Now, to fix the situation, we’re gonna have to do something you’re not going to like.”

----

Fred and George peeled the sliding glass doors of the luxurious garage apart, revealing the interior, which was mainly lined with thousands of dollars worth of vintage car memorabilia, save for the treasured vehicle in the center.

“The 1961 Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe,” George said, his eyes pointed down at the prized pompadour blue car resting idly in front of the duo. Fred's eyes were also fixed on the vehicle, though his’ were illuminated with awe and mischief.

“Dad spent 3 years restoring this car,” he continued, hands behind his back, not daring to leave fingerprints on its shiny surface, “it is his love, it is his passion…”

“It is his fault he didn’t lock the garage,” Fred smirked, sauntering around the exterior of the automobile, slobbering all over the surface like a dog with fresh meat.

“Fred, what are you talking about?” George asked nervously, already knowing what Fred was plotting, “Dad loves this car even more than he loves you!”

“Fred, no.” Fred swiped his fingers over the perfect coat of paint, occasionally posing with the car as if he was a model on the front cover of a magazine.

“Que Bella!” he said with a chef’s kiss, still drooling over the car���s magnificence.

“Remember how insane he went when I snapped my retainer? And that was a tiny piece of plastic!” Fred paid an anxious George no mind, instead continuing his admiration for Arthur’s most valuable possession.

“George, I’m sorry, but we can’t pick up Y/N in that piece of scrap. He’d never believe Mr. Y/L/N would drive something like that!”

“It’s not a piece of scrap.”

Fred opened the driver’s side door, slowly sitting down in the comfortable cushioned seat, his umber eyes never breaking contact with George’s identical ones.

“He knows the mileage, Fred.”

“Look, this is real simple. Whatever miles we put on, we’ll take off.” Fred said, barely giving George the time of day.

“How?”

“We’ll drive home backwards.”

“No,” George said firmly, almost like a mother. Fred turned the key of the Anglia, its restored engine roaring ten times better than George’s hunk of junk’s.

“How about we rent a nice Cadillac, my treat!” He yelled as Fred slowly drove away, the revving of the vintage engine drowning out his voice. George stood frozen in disbelief, before Fred slowly backed up, beckoning George to join him.

With a heavy heart, George warily climbed into the back seat of the vehicle. And with that, Fred floored the gas, speeding off towards the Shermer High.

----

“I had a grandmother once,” Umbridge awkwardly stated, in an attempt to soothe your heart overcome with (fake) grief. “Two, actually.”

The suburbs outside of the Windy City lived up to their name today; Umbridge’s frizzy brown curls swayed in the strong breeze. The temperature today was the best it had been since last Autumn; it was a given that Fred would skip.

You patiently waited on the concrete steps outside the school, Umbridge continuing her “comforting” words, attempting to stitch the wounds caused by your grandmother’s staged death. You weren’t focused on the thulian tyrant, however, instead, your eyes waited on the road for the sight of a ruby-red-haired boy.

“Between grief and nothing, I’d take grief,” Umbridge said flatly.

“Great,” you replied softly, eager to shut the toadish old lady up. She opened her magenta-tinted lips to add something else, but she decided against it, promptly shutting her mouth without a sound escaping.

The stentorian roaring of the engine residing in cerulean Ford Anglia filled the silent air and idle parking lot, lightening your spirits instantly. While you didn’t doubt that Fred would’ve shown up eventually, his timing was impeccable. It didn’t hurt that he showed up in a killer ride, either.

A tall, lanky man drenched in a long beige trench coat, horn-rimmed sunglasses, and a businessman-looking fedora, which masked his fiery orange hair, emerged from the car, leaning against its body.

“Oh Y/N honey, hurry along now,” the stranger in disguise bellowed, his voice slightly higher pitched than ‘Mr. Y/L/N’s’ from the phone, a thickly-slathered Chicago accent present nonetheless.

“I guess that’s my dad.”

You grabbed the annoying principal’s wrinkly, cold hand, reciting, “Miss Umbridge, Dolores. You’re a beautiful woman, I wanna thank you for your warmth and compassion.”

A furious Ron watched from the scene play out from the large front windows of the school, immediately recognizing Fred and his infuriating antics with a scowl. Why should he get to skip while the rest of us have to stay? I’ve gotta catch him.

Umbridge looked near disturbed at your counterfeit words on thankfulness, before you eagerly stepped down to the car, giving ‘Mister Y/L/N’ a quick hug.

“Do you have a kiss for Daddy?” Fred jokingly asked with a smirk.

“Are you kidding?” you replied, leaning into his soft lips for a passionate kiss, which maybe would have escalated a little further if he didn’t drag you in the passenger seat of the Anglia.

“So that's how it is in their family,” Umbridge uttered as she watched the nearly-French kiss perched from her spot at the top of the stairway. She swiftly pivoted around walking to the front entrance to the school, when Fred floored the Ford again, its loud engine roaring off into the distance.

“Hi Georgie, you comfortable?” you asked, eyes towards the crampted back seat.

Once the three of you were out of Umbridge’s eyeline, a compact George sprung up from the lonely backseat, saying, “Hi, Y/N. No.”

“So, what're we gonna do?” you asked the dashingly handsome driver next to you with a smile.

“The question isn’t: What are we going to do? The question is: What aren’t we going to do?”

“Don’t say we’re not going to take the car home. Please don’t say that we’re not going to take the car home,” George mumbled, hopeful that Fred would comply, though he already knew that Fred would be doing the exact opposite.

If you had access to a car like this, Fred mentally narrated, gesturing to the amenities-rich Anglia, would you take it back right away? Me neither.

And with that, Fred recklessly rounded the bendy road, speeding off towards downtown Chicago.

[simpingovernonexistentmen]

Family Meeting Pt 1

Plot: Katsuki feels it’s time to meet families. Little does he know his omega isn’t so keen on the idea.

Genre: A/B/O, Omegaverse, Fluff, BNHA, Alpha Bakugo, Fem Omega Reader

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and, you were happily surrounded by your Alpha's scent. Sitting on the couch with Katsuki watching a documentary on almight's pasts battles. You've been dating Katsuki for half a year now. Finding yourself falling for him more and, more everyday. Everything was perfect. You snuggled closer to him, laying your head against his chest letting out a sigh of contentment. Katsuki chest rumbled in response to his omega's happiness, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you as close to him as possible, leaving a small gentle kiss on the top of your head. Yes everything was perfect.

"I think it's time we've met parents." He said breaking the silence.

You felt yourself freeze. Yes everything was perfect until right at this moment. Can we rewind back to 10 seconds ago and, just live in that time space for all eternity that would be great. You tilted your head up to gaze at his ruby eyes.

"Parents?" You squeaked out.

He frowned at your timid reply. Was it even a question? You've both have been with each other long enough to be considered serious. His mother had been nagging at him to bring you over to introduce you as his new partner to the family. He felt he had given it enough time to do this so, why did his omega seem so reluctant.

"What's wrong?" He asked giving you a long stare. You felt as if he was trying to piece a puzzle together with your soul.

"You don't think it's too soon?" You smiled up nervously, you already knew your scent starting to change into a slight bitter scent and, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

His stare hardened looking at you suspiciously. "No I don't, i think we've been together long enough to meet each other's families."

You sighed placing you face into the crook of his neck, refusing to stare at his soul searching eyes any longer. "Can we delay meeting my family for a bit?" You stated with a small voice. You felt him stiffen from under you.

"Y/N does your family not know about us?"

Fuck the one question you wanted to avoid entirely. The air around you started to contort into bitter burnt smell, nothing like his comforting firewood scent. This isn't how you wanted this conversation to play out. You didn't have a bad relationship with your family, no that was far from truth in fact it was the opposite. They loved you too much. Over protective was an understatement, every time you got into a relationship your family would find some way to drive them off. The same response would be given every time if they were really meant for you this wouldn't drive them away. No shame at all! You family consisted of two brothers and, of course both of your parents. Your mother is an omega like you while, all the males in your family were alphas.

Usually omegas were categorized in two slots a nuisance or, a blessing. The way society's view things is ridiculous but, that didn't mean you were ungrateful for your fortunate circumstance. You loved you family and they loved you but, being an omega, an only girl and, the youngest of every one did not help at all!!!

"Are you ashamed of me omega?" The anger in your alpha's tone brought you out of your thoughts. You quickly straddled his hips grabbing his face in your hands.

"Never" You stated with finality. Your eyes soften while, staring at his ruby eyes. You let out a comforting scent cooing at your alpha. "I would never be ashamed of you, it's just my family is a little much." You sighed looking down at him, "I just don’t want them to ruin what we have."

His chest rumbled at your answer, he leaned against you rubbing his face against your sweat gland. Katsuki wrapped his arms around your waist locking you in place. You began to run your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair, he hummed in response. He placed soft butterfly kisses against your neck.

"There is nothing they can do to ruin anything, our relationship isn’t so fragile to be easily broken"

Your heart swelled with joy at his words. You purred happily pulling back to kiss his lips. You smiled  brightly at him. "Ok let's meet the family then."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few days have past and, you were FREAKING OUT! That same day you called your family with your alpha present letting them know about your relationship with katsuki. You of course played it safe, calling your mother over everyone else. You did not need a interrogation over a phone call with your alpha beside you. Your mother being an omega herself understood your point of view. That didn't mean she agreed with your method. After arguing for a bit with some pleading she conceded deciding it was best to let them know the day before your alpha and, you arrived. Rather than to blindside them completely.

Now here you were sitting in the passenger side of Katsuki's car in a light baby blue dress that fell just above your knees with some pale blue ankle strap heels to match. You always dressed up when you were nervous, it was a habit. This was your battle armor, your hero suit, you have self confidence sure but, it helped boost it just a little with dressing up. Your hair was perfect, your outfit matched, you had just the right amount of jewelry on, and a light amount of make up. You always tried to make it as natural as possible. The drive was a long one, which didn’t help the bad thought of everything exploding in your face go away.

Seeing you in distress was placing katsuki in a protective mood. He reached over interlacing your fingers with his, squeezing slightly to reassure you he was not going anywhere. He let out a comforting scent to calm his anxious omega. He gave a small smile when, he noticed your shoulders loosen up with your fingers relaxing in his hand. You gave a small squeeze back smiling up at him.

That's right everything will be fine. Everything will go smoothly. The second the thought passed your mind Katsuki hit the brakes making you lurch forward causing the seat belt to dig into your chest. You let out a distressed chirp at the sudden stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you came face to face with a very pissed off looking alpha, which so happened to be your brother. He stood a couple of feet away from the front of the vehicle staring angrily at Katsuki. For the love of-!!? Do you have a special hate for my positive thoughts that you have to shit all over it or, do you think its funny universe. You cursed to yourself in your mind.

Katsuki growled removing his hand from yours, unbuckling his seat belt. No no no no no! You haven't even gotten out of the car or, even made it to the house yet! Why?! Dear god why, is your brother starting a fight already! Before you got the chance to do anything Katsuki was already out of the car.

"Oi! What's your problem you fucking idiot!" Katsuki yelled out at your brother. You flinched...ahh goodbye romance. Marriage? Kids? Love life? What's that?

"You’re my fucking problem! You think you can just show up here with my little sister and, not get your teeth knocked in?!" Your brother yelled back. He then moved his heated glare towards you. You could see the hurt and, betrayal in his eyes. You already knew what the reason was, it was the simple fact that you didn't tell him.

You already knew he wasn't mad at Katsuki, he was just poor soul that took the blunt of his anger. He was upset with you. You’ve always been close with your brother. B/N was the middle child of your family, you were as thick as thieves, you always told him everything even about who you were dating but, this time you didn't. The overwhelming fear of your family not accepting Katsuki stopped you from telling him. Yes, B/N would jump on the band wagon of terrorizing your partners but, you always told him first before anyone.

"You must have some big balls to say that shit to me" Kasuki smiled but, you already knew what that smile was and, there was nothing pleasant about it.

You quickly unbuckled yourself getting out of the car "Wait! Wait! Wait! B/N please listen" You went to your brother's side pumping out your scent to calm your brother's inner alpha. You grabbed ahold of his arm pressing it against your chest. You suppressed the small chirp that wanted to come out due to the pain but, pushed through it. You didn't realize how hard the seat belt pulled against your chest until now.

"Oi Y/N, what's wrong?" Katsuki was instantly by your side checking on you. Meanwhile your brother was uncharacteristically quiet, now also glancing you over. You looked up at your alpha giving him a smile. You knew better than you lie to him.

"The seat belt hit a little too hard against my chest. I think i'm just a bit sore"

"I'm sorry" You heard your brother give a small apology with a sadden tone.

"We'll just call it even" You smiled.

"I don't" Katsuki glared down at your brother. "I don't care if you are her brother. That shit you pulled isn't ok. Grit your teeth" He growled out, the bitter burnt scent filled the air. He was pissed.

Katsuki grabbed your shoulder tugging you lightly to pull you away from your brother. Before you could even say word of protest out; Katsuki pulled his arm back, swinging his fist forward connecting to your brother’s cheek. Your brother was immediately knocked on his ass, his body meeting the asphalt. You gasped running over to your brother.

“Oh my gosh! B/N are you ok?!” You got onto your knees checking over him. Your brother let out a small groan, rubbing his cheek.

You turned glaring at your alpha, “Katsuki! What the hell!? I said, it was fine. It not like i was majorly hurt!”

Katsuki frowned crossing his arms, you knew he wasn’t budging from this. “It’s not alright and, he knows it.” He growled out. Katsuki’s ruby eyes never left your brother’s view.”I don’t give a fuck how angry you are at someone, it is never ok to hurt someone you love.”

“No one could have guessed this would happen!” You argued

Your alpha then moved his beautiful ruby eyes at you, “He forced us to stop the car causing you to get hurt. He needs to own up to the consequences of his actions weather it was intentional or not.Your safety is never up for debate.” He stated firmly with no room for further discussion.

“Y/N it’s fine. He is right.” Your brother stood up, bringing you up with him. “Which is why i didn’t move when, i saw what he was going to do.”

Your alpha grunted a acknowledgment at your brother. Katsuki went over to you bringing your body to his chest.

“Are you in pain?” He whispered in your ear while, rubbing your back gently. You felt your body relax into him with just his scent filling your senses.

You sighed in his touch, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Nothing a ice pack can’t fix” God, you loved your alpha.

You heard your brother clear his throat. You looked over at your brother refusing to relinquish your comfortable spot.

“Let’s get home so we can both get a ice pack. Your boyfriend packs a punch.” He whined. The anger he once held was gone and, was now replaced with a look of peace or, relief...maybe both.

You pulled back slightly to look up at your alpha. “Do you still want to meet the rest of my family?”

Your alpha smirked at you, “I don’t back down on something, I've started.” Of course he wouldn’t. Katsuki pulled away from you to start heading back to the car. Until you brother called out to you both.

“Hey isn’t that Ground Zero’s Insignia on the hood of your car?” You looked over to see your alpha’s hero symbol on hood of his car.

You smiled brightly at your brother “Yup, Katsuki is our all star pro hero. Which as you can see, he is none other than Ground Zero himself.” You turned away from your brother getting into the car.

“..holy hell...wait till everyone finds out about this” Your brother stated with a shocked expression.

I feel like it was a bit rushed. OH WELL! Part 2 of Family Meeting will come out soon. Of course it will be about Reader meeting the Bakugo Family. I hope you enjoyed this! Like Share Comment :D 

[tiramisiyu]

【恋与制作人】 MLQC: Chapter 35 “The Final Answer” Summary

Translation Masterlist

Summarized Chapters: [to be updated]

Spoiler alert: Please note that all content in this post is content that has not yet been released in the global server.

35-1

Rainstorm, lightning, hurricanes, earthquakes…

An increase in extreme weather and natural disasters resulted in a prophecy that started circulating in the dark –

“Two daughters of the world

One will lead towards the light, one will be corrupted from the dark.

The left hand of the angel wields a sword to puncture through all deception and lies.”

Right now, everyone desires to return to a peaceful life, but the footsteps that have stopped still must go forth, until…

The moment “that” draws near.

 --

There’s been an increase in extreme weather and natural disasters for the past month, such that it’s been a long time since the sun has been seen

MC thinks about how Victor has been out of contact for a month

As MC and Kiki wait for Minor to drive up, they witness a tree topple, then a young man uses his Evol to stop it before it hits a kid. The parents of the kid run over to grab their child and look at the Evolver in disgust. Other passersby also say some mean things. 

Apparently, similar things (where people disdain of Evolvers) have been frequent

MC sees that the young man is No.93; he expresses surprise that she’s still alive

Minor drives up, so MC offers to send 93 off, but he says he has elsewhere to be and rushes off. MC notices that he’s desperately clutching onto a black card

--

On the car’s TV, the news host says that the increase in abnormal phenomena is proportionate to the increase in Evolvers

MC wonders about Black Queen’s words, “Soon, you will understand that I am the person who will save this world” and what it means

Minor steps on the brakes, seeing someone suddenly appear in front of the car –

MC thought Shaw was unconscious, but he is able to speak weakly and gives something to MC before passing out again

They take him to the hospital

--

STF and LFG delegations are meeting up, including Gavin and Goldman (who is representing Victor)

Lucien walks in with key researchers from Ultima Bioresearch

Helios appears on the room screen, with several people behind him

 35-3

MC waits outside the emergency room, confirming what Shaw gave her was the original copy of her dad’s notebook

Suddenly, a young man hands a black card to MC, saying that the address on it will get rid of their Evols and that the card is an indication that they were selected. MC remembers that 93 also had that card

There’s the letter “A” on the card, and MC realizes it’s her other self/Black Queen

The emergency door room opens, and the doctor says that the wounds are dealt with and him falling unconscious is due to Evol overuse

MC asks what happened to him; Shaw says it’s not important, and he got the notebook back because he caused her to lose it

Shaw then says there’s no particular secret to the notebook, and in MC’s hands, it’s just a normal notebook

Shaw notices the black card, says it was made by “her”, and it has an attached Evol that affects those who touch it – this makes people believe that Evolvers are responsible for all disasters and they need to get rid of Evols to end the disasters

Shaw’s Evol has been heavily damaged by her, so can’t touch the card

MC guesses that Black Queen’s Evol is de-evolution of Evols, as Shaw confirms – the more de-evolutions she does, the more power she gets, so MC should stop her ASAP

MC asks about what side he’s on –

Shaw: I study archaeology. Aren’t you curious about why? Those who walk through history have no position. Because those who walk will not stop, we will not stand on any side. The only thing I want to do is discover truth, and then push forward the discovery of truth. The moment that walking stops, this means that this world is headed to the end. Though I’ve always had my doubts, now I can somewhat believe that you just might be able to protect this world.

MC: I definitely will!

 35-4

After the hospital, they head to an emergency relief centre for Evolvers with no homes, to drop off supplies 

(After Leto’s disappearance, rather than getting better, things got worse between Evolvers and normal people)

The person in charge thanks MC for her efforts in providing supplies and with Miracle Finder, then asks if she knows what the black card that Evolvers have been getting is, and notes that people who got it have been weird

MC advises the person in charge to have them thrown away if anyone gets another one

--

MC and Minor head to the sanatorium noted on the card; the two are planning to sneak in while disguised

A man dressed in grey suddenly walks out from behind a column, startling both, then takes them inside when MC displays the black card. He says that “she” is here today, so they’re pretty lucky, and that “she” is the world’s savior

MC and Minor’s act involves pretending that Minor is a normal guy whose little sister, MC, suddenly got an Evol

The man takes them to the room with lots of people seeking de-evolution, though MC does not find 93 among them

Suddenly, someone addresses MC and Minor

35-6

The person is Gavin, disguised in casualwear and looking dangerously angry

MC says they’re here for de-evolution; Gavin says that he’s doing the same. MC realizes they have the same target after seeing the black card in Gavin’s hand

Someone comes to take MC and Minor, as it’s they’re turn; Gavin says to let him go first, the person suggests for them to come together. 

MC says to let Minor stay out (since he’s not an Evolver), hinting at him to escape when possible

--

They’re taken to a dark path where “she” is at the end

When MC asks the person why “she” is helping them, he says that “evolution” is just a complete lie and than everyone will soon know that de-evolution is the only way to get the single opportunity to live. MC feels that he’s already lost all reason

MC and Gavin walk hand-in-hand down the dark path, realizing that this path is much too long for the size of the sanatorium

They finally arrive at a wall, carved with some symbols

With the sound of an explosion, a heatwave surges over, lighting up the whole path; Gavin tackles MC down as the corridor collapses

35-7

After the collapsing, the two confirm if either have injuries

They’re completely blocked off on both ends on the path

MC thinks that it’s because her disguising wasn’t complete enough, attracting their suspicions; Gavin says it’s fine, as he came to confirm something and they’re giving him this chance

Using his phone, Gavin realizes that there’s no signal here and… time has stopped

The two search for any places with special characteristics; MC finds a little path with the sound of water

Down the path, they’re blocked again, and Gavin uses his Evol to break it down – behind this wall is a scene of clear skies and a waterfall, which MC recognizes as the waterfall in the north. Gavin confirms that they’ve been taken into this space, though this time there’s no need to leave it around

MC: Can this place be destroyed?

Gavin: Yes. The STF already has a preliminary grasp on the whereabouts of the person behind this, so this place is already useless. Before we make our moves this time, I will not leave them a single path to back out with.

Using his Evol, Gavin destroys that space and they jump down from there to the waterfall scene, the wind carrying them to the ground

They meet up with an STF squad with Eli there, who says their guess was right, which Gavin proceeds to explain

Gavin: Actually, in the past month, more than one “de-evolution points” have appeared in Loveland. These “de-evolution points” have no connection between them and they’re very far apart. The person behind has appeared simultaneously at multiple places. So we theorized that these “de-evolution points” will use some method to lead these people to one location. And the place that’s most likely to be used for this is this place.

MC wonders, if Evols are bringing disaster and since everyone will die at the end, why does she need to bother with Evol de-evolution?

They suddenly get a citywide warning for everyone to be on high alert; soon after, MC feels an earthquake coming on 

 35-9

Leaving behind an STF squad, they rush to the city, hearing that there was an earthquake in the neighbouring city and the shockwaves reached Loveland, causing panic and damaged buildings

MC wonders if all this really is due to Evolvers

Gavin: MC, don’t waver in your judgement. Everyone has the right to live. If they feel fear due to the unknown, you can get rid of the unknown. You’ve always helped more people understand Evolvers, starting from the first episode of Miracle Finder… I don’t know what to do, but if there really is doomsday… I will face it with you.

On the road they’re on, the cars suddenly stop and Gavin heads off to check it, as a throng of people attempt to surround the STF

MC starts recording this, and notices that these people are holding the black cards

STF members can only defend from the crowd, as they can’t actively harm them; Gavin ends up forming a wind barrier to barricade off the throng of people

Using his wind, Gavin pulls the black cards away from the people into the air and cuts them into pieces, making the people regain their senses

Gavin: Evolvers will always exist beside everyone. They have had nothing to do with the disasters in the past, and they will have nothing to do with them from now on. No one has the right to deprive others of fair existence, and attacking Evolvers is as despicable as it gets! The disasters are the enemy that everyone should be confronting, not Evolvers.

Gavin gives the command to STF to prepare to set off, then goes to MC and gives her permission to use her footage

Gavin heads off after MC convinces him that there’s no need to send her back, as both realize that they need to deal with Black Queen ASAP to handle the disasters

35-11

MC and her staff are working on reporting how the disasters affected Evolvers at a plaza where citizens were evacuated to

MC is also getting a ton of notifications from the video she took earlier, with comments in approval of Gavin’s words; the clouds have also dispersed, revealing the moon and stars

Lucien calls; when MC asks about if he knows about what happened with Black Queen, he says that he got a few of the cards, did some analysis on them, and got some clues

Lucien has MC look at the brightest star in the sky, then close her eyes and walk according to his directions

She arrives at a place where there’s a deep crevice between tall buildings. Behind her is Lucien

Lucien: Were you afraid that I was tricking you again?

MC: I don’t think you were tricking me. Plus, even if you tricked me over here, I haven’t suffered any damages.

Lucien: You’re right. Do you trust me this much?

MC: Yes. This is the last time I will answer this question. This time, are you going to tell me to not trust you that much?

Lucien: This time, I won’t. In the future, you must continue to trust me.

Lucien then says that he created this crevice, then pushes MC into it; MC seems to see him mouth “Don’t be scared”

 35-12

After a fall, MC finds herself in Lucien’s arms, finding themselves in an “unfamiliar yet familiar wilderness”

Following Lucien’s gaze, MC then sees Black Queen sitting in a large room within a crevice at their feet, wearing half a mask

MC wants to escape, but Lucien hints to her that he will explain to her soon

In the room, 93 appears, taking out a black card and looking somewhat vacantly, asking for de-evolution, and Black Queen obliges

Lucien: Do you want to stop this?

MC nods

Lucien: What if he truly does want to de-evolve?

MC: He can make his decision when under no external influences, rather than now.

Lucien: MC, right now I need you to cooperate in verifying something.

Lucien suddenly gets very close to MC, making her heart skip a beat

 35-14

A white light comes from MC, and a black whirlpool from Black Queen

MC sees that Black Queen is telling 93 that she’s tired, and he can come tomorrow, and he leaves

Black Queen says that she’s been noticed, and if so, she can’t leave her (presumably MC) for too long, then seems to look at MC in declaration of war

Lucien says that this place is an independent existence, and Black Queen can’t see them

Lucien takes them out of the place, his eyes covering MC’s eyes, and MC is able to see through between his fingers that he pressed his lips to the back of his hand

They return to under the clear starry skies, the crevice gone

Lucien makes a call, saying that “The first test can end now”. When MC asks about this “test” –

Lucien: Do you still remember the space-folding experiment?

MC: But don’t you not have an Evol now?

Lucien: Technology is the best copying power itself. This experiment has been in progress for a long time, and just hasn’t been used before.

MC then expresses concerns about whether Lucien has rested, but Lucien suggests stargazing instead

MC asks if de-evolution is a scam of hers

Lucien: If it’s just de-evolution, then it’s not a scam. But her plan comes entirely from a lie. It’s not to save the world, nor is it to save Evolvers. Because she is your shadow to begin with. The stronger your power, the stronger hers is. Your Evol is “evolution”, while hers is “de-evolution”. After you awakened, changes happened with the relation between you two. 

Lucien: So just now, I did a test to prove that this conclusion is correct. Just now, when your Evol was pushed to the peak by emotion, she momentarily lost the power of de-evolution. [This means] Your power can light up this darkness – more accurately, only you can do this. On one worldline, only one of the same person can exist.

MC realizes that the existence of Black Queen comes from all the worldlines being combined into one, except for a single omitted line

Lucien confirms this, but reminds that it is just his guess, that Black Queen aims to get power to destroy MC and join the two worlds together

MC: How will that affect the world right now?

Lucien: Perhaps it will accelerate the collapse of this world, or perhaps it won’t.

MC decides that she will find Black Queen and end everything

Just when Lucien offers to send MC home, they suddenly hear a clamor far away on the plaza and head over to see

  35-15

Two groups are fighting with a group of children between; one group is complaining that the kids are Evolvers that will bring trouble; the others, Evolvers themselves, say that there’s no reason for Evolvers to not be there and everyone is trying to avoid the disasters

MC and Lucien realize that it’s the orphanage kids and director

MC sees a vacant-eyed man with a black card coming at her when she tries to use a loudspeaker, and decides to use her light attack to disperse the crowd

Lucien blocks her from the man, and notes that it’s about to rain

The crowd continues fighting as Lucien raises his hand

A light gathers at Lucien’s fingertips, dispersing towards the sky

People gradually regain reason under the rain that’s become light droplets, shaking hands and making peace

Lucien: If this were my true Evol, would you like it? This way, you should be able to have a good dream.

MC: Why do you…

Lucien: Because I felt that you needed it.

Lucien: That was a lie. MC, hold out your hand. I just remembered that I have something to give to you.

Lucien hands a little light ball to MC

Lucien: Now, do you hear what I haven’t said aloud?

> I felt it – a strong colour, sweet and warm, with a faint bitterness. Like an autumn cornfield, like a single rose on barren soil, like a rainbow that occupied the entire sky. Unrestrained, unconcealed, and in my hand right now.

  35-17

The camp on the plaza has calmed down

MC flips through her dad’s notebook, remembering what Lucien said before leaving 

Lucien: Since she knows that her weakness has been exposed, she will begin the next step in her actions very soon. But we don’t need to be anxious… The biggest connection between you and her is your pasts. Perhaps someone has told you the answer early on.

MC picks up a call from Shaw

Shaw: Just now, her plan changed. Tomorrow, she’s preparing to become this world’s Queen for real. If only one of you can exist in this world, she’s determined to win.

--

At BS’s old site, Black Queen strokes a grey throne, saying that “It’s time”, looking at a row of 10 people below

Helios: We have already prepared for the coronation of the Black Swan Queen.