#then i noticed she had disappeared like 15 minutes before we were supposed to leave

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 1 - Slide

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x Female!OC

Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn't help but notice how familiar he was.

⚠️ 18+!! | 2,816 Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic/Angst/Eventual Smut | AU/AT | Warnings: Heavy language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Mention of childhood sexual, physical, and emotional abuse, the effects of child abuse in adulthood, murder, suicide, alcohol use, description alluding to smut

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. I wrote this entirely as a trauma dump.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter list

"I don't care if we on the run Nothin' matters when we one on one Lookin' at us 'cause we goin' dumb We on the same wave, you the same way You know I be down if it's with you Where we goin'? Baby, what's the move? We should take a trip up to the moon Get a room" -"Slide" by H.E.R. 

It was a face-off from the second the door closed to the apartment. The kind of argument Marc and Steven had only face-to-mirror, locked in the bathroom. 

Steven wanted to call her, ask her out, and get to know her for himself. 

Marc wanted to throw her number away, change his name, and flee the city. 

"She didn't recognize us!" Steven exclaimed, trying to build a case for himself. Marc detested this,

"She will. You give it time, and she will. She's smart as hell. No wonder she's a goddamn doctor."

"This isn't one of those situations where you poofed, and she never heard from you again, is it?" Steven asked, reflecting on Marc's track record. Though with Layla, it wasn't his fault, Steven didn't know the whole story of what happened with Simone. 

Marc wasn't sure where to begin or if he even should. His history with Simone goes back to when his brother was still alive and conveniently ended when he left town at 18. 

"Look, when I left Chicago, the last person I spoke to was my dad. She didn't know." Marc finally answered. Steven looked at Marc in the mirror with disappointment,

"Damnit, Marc!" He shouted. Marc tried to defend himself,

"Moni's family wasn't the greatest either, and she had all these plans so we would leave together, but she had dreams and ambitions. I didn't wanna drag her down. Now look where she is."

Steven turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom, ranting about how, once again, Marc ruined their chances of companionship before Steven ever had the opportunity. Marc sat back, listening, knowing Steven would never understand no matter how many ways he explained why it wouldn't work. 

"It's really something, innit? I get keen on someone only to find out you broke thei-" Steven stopped pacing and ranting abruptly. Marc could have sworn it took him a full minute to finally speak up again. "Did you love her?"

Marc took control of the body to answer. "Man, she was the only love I knew then. We were the closest you could get without being family or dating," Marc started. Steven couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I can't believe she's here, of all places," Marc said in a whisper to himself.

Steven refused to give in. He wanted to see Simone again, and he was going to make sure he would. "I'm calling her."

"Like hell you are, Steven! You think you can have a happy relationship and hide the fact that you live in the body of a ghost from her past forever?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. I'll go out with Simone, you'll remember all the good times you had, and you'll want to work it out. We all win."

Marc started to realize how mental it all sounded. The very idea of talking to Simone after all these years seemed gut-wrenching, but he supposed there was a reason Steven existed.

"You're serious about her, eh?" 

"I really am, mate."

 While Marc and Steven went back and forth over what to do, the woman they argued over was eating a salad and texting her flatmate about the encounter. 

Joyce: Sounds weird. Probably a stalker, be careful.

Simone: Idk he was attractive and lovely as can be 

Joyce: So are most serial killers lol

Joyce: Or was that not your thesis? 🤣

Simone: Remind me again who the psy is here ?

Joyce: Fuck off. Just don't let a creep get in your snatch again, or in my flat. Ttyl

Simone: 🖕

Simone chuckled to herself, thinking about the ex that Joyce was referring to as she forked up bits from her salad. Lettuce, cucumber, tiny tomato. She actually wanted Harbo's twin snakes, but she couldn't figure out where the craving came from. 

The sweet and sour candies used to be her favorite as a kid, but she hadn't had them in a decade, maybe more. 

Well, that's not true. I had some last time I was in Chica-

Her phone dings, causing a disruption in her thought. She saw it was a text from an unknown number instead of Joyce this time. 

Hello, It's Steven. Just making sure you have my number, also.

Simone read the text in his voice, even following it with the nervous laugh she imagined him doing. 

What a sweetheart. 

 When Steven called Simone to see if she was free for dinner that Friday, he didn't expect her to say yes, even if he was hopeful she would. He could have jumped for joy when she took him up on it. 

Now, he was getting ready to meet her, and he felt a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away.

"I'ma be sick, bruv." Steven said nervously as he buttoned his shirt. Marc stared back at him in the mirror,

"You're gonna be sick? I can't believe you're dragging me into this."

"I'm the one she's expecting, not you." Steven scoffed. 

Marc wanted to punch him but realized Moni might end up doing that instead. "Yeah, and when she realizes, you'll be getting that hook."

 Though Simone still felt that he was familiar, she knew she was with someone entirely different. So different; she was relieved to take a break from the ordinary shitty men she was used to. 

We may have known each other in a different life. She thought.

Regardless, Steven couldn't believe how quickly his cares and nerves melted away once they started chatting. At first, he was even more anxious when he saw her in the most stunning dark blue dress, but she quickly loosened him up. 

"Can't help but notice the American accent. Where're you from?" He asked.

"Chicago, Illinois, born and raised." She answered. 

Steven only asked because he needed to get to know her for himself, no matter what Marc told him. One question left both of them curious, though. "What brought you to London?" He wondered, tearing a piece off of the appetizer rolls.

Simone knew the question would come up, but she wanted to avoid getting into heavy stuff on the first date. She decided to answer honestly but without detail. "I have an internet friend from here who offered me a place to stay when I was having a rough time, and I fell in love. I couldn't stay away."

"In love with the city or someone?" Steven asked, interested in everything she had to say. Maybe her voice made things seem easier to listen to. He was convinced he could hear her read the phonebook to him.

She shrugged, "Oh, gee, I haven't been in love for as long as I can remember." She said. It wasn't exactly the answer to his question, but it was truthful nonetheless. 

Dinner conversation became more casual as they became more comfortable with each other. Simone still could shake the feeling that she knew this man, but she wasn't convinced she had ever met anyone with such kind eyes. 

She got into some banter but continued to crack jokes and get to know him. She was confident that he was too good to be true and knew she had to pull out the big guns to test his integrity. 

"Can you keep a secret?" She asked, leaning in closer to him. They had long since finished their meals but were far from leaving, too interested to part yet. 

Steven leaned in closer as well, "Who would I tell?" He asked. Simone thought for a moment, realizing it didn't matter much unless they knew people mutually. 

Only Steven and Marc knew they would be in on this secret together.

She felt it would either be the biggest mistake to tell him this so soon or the best idea she ever had. She took a deep breath,

"I was a dominatrix to pay my way through university." She spilled. 

Steven's eyes got wide, making Simone nervous about his response. 

Have I piled on too much too soon? 

"Wow, really? What's that like?" He asked. He knew what it meant but wasn't entirely sure how it worked. Still, the image of her in leather was strangely arousing to him. 

Simone kissed her teeth, having never been asked that before. "Well, I never let the clients touch me or anything. Wealthy men would pay a ton to just be humiliated. I didn't do all that for long, though." She explained, not once diverting her eyes from his. She needed to get a read on his honest feelings, as the last thing she needed was someone in her life who wasn't sex-positive again.

Steven was interested and didn't mind the fun fact about Simone. "Did you... like it?" He asked. She shrugged,

"Weirdly enough, yes. It was a good change of pace. I spent so long out of control of my own life, and I was finally able to take charge of something." She admitted. 

Marc was listening to get talk about this nonchalantly and was in shock by it. The girl he knew would have been embarrassed to speak of these things, even if she thought about them. She was taught these things were terrible, unholy, immoral, and ugly.

How long did it take for her to figure all this out?

Having just met Simone, Steven was delighted at how carefree and open she was. He was very fond of everything about her, down to the snort when she laughed. 

 Simone offered Steven a ride home at the night's end, and he accepted. The car ride was just as lively as the dinner conversation, though not nearly as long due to him not living far from the venue. 

"How about I pick you up at the same time next Friday?" Simone asked as they pulled up to his building. Steven's heart fluttered at getting a second date, and he accepted happily. 

 The week passed as any other week would: Simone had her appointments, and Steven had Marc in his ear, trying to get him to cancel the date before it was too late. 

None of these things stopped the pair from having the other in their mind, and the days leading up to the date were consumed by sending memes back and forth. 

Steven: Have you decided what we're doing on Friday?

Simone: Still stuck between a couple options. You'll love them!

Steven: I'll be happy to do whatever so long as you're there. 😋

 The real issues started after the second date. Simone and Steven had a fantastic time bowling, Simone wiping the floor with him and bragging incessantly about it the whole ride to Steven's apartment. 

When they got there, however, the air in the car felt thick and hot despite the cold weather. Once Simone's eyes locked onto Steven's and their laughter died down, there wasn't a single person on the planet left. For Steven, there was only Simone, and vice versa. 

Marc knew what was coming. He saw it in her eyes.

Steven felt like he would almost drool on himself, staring into those big doe eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked her, sounding slightly timid. 

 Though he was the one who asked, Simone wasn't one to waste an opportunity to leave a mark. She unbuckled her seatbelt and lunged for him, leaning over the center console and meeting his lips with hers. 

Never had Steven felt a kiss that warmed him all over like this. At first, he was surprised but found himself guided into it by her. When her tongue slipped between his lips, he was delighted it still faintly tasted like the fruity candy they shared at the bowling alley. 

Simone was thrilled by his eagerness to kiss back, yet she felt a strong familiarity with it. Maybe it was his lips, hands on her back, or the tenderness of the whole thing. 

It was new, yet not. 

Had to have been in another life.

She pulled away with a grin that plastered itself on her face, feeling like it was stuck there for the foreseeable future, and she proposed a third date, just the same as she did before. Steven agreed once again.

 Though Steven was on cloud nine, Marc was pissed and didn't waste any time letting Steven know. 

"Do you have any idea how far up shit's creek you are?"

Steven shrugged, "The creek's quite beautiful from where I am. Jealous?" he asked. 

Marc had never known him to be so careless. Like he hadn't thought any of this through. Like Steven expected a normal, happy relationship. 

Marc was okay with letting him play the boyfriend for a bit, but it was clear that it would get out of hand, and Steven would end up heartbroken. 

"I was gonna let you crash and burn and learn your lesson, but you need to know something. Simone's been giving you the eyes." Marc warned.

Steven, carefree for a moment, suddenly cared a lot more. "The eyes?"

"If she gives you the eyes, she wants to sleep with you, and Steven, you have no idea what to even do with a girl like her," Marc warned.

He only knew from experience. How she gave him those eyes once before, he acted on it, and it ended up being one of his biggest mistakes.

Back then, she wanted to, but they didn't. She's different now. 

Steven was quiet after that, panicking internally over this information. It occurred to him that, aside from the body he resided in having experience, he, as a consciousness, has never slept with anyone.

"You gotta help me, Marc."

"Fat chance, man."

"That's bullshit! If it were any other woman, you'd help me."

"No, you're right, but I specifically asked you to keep Simone out of this, and now here you are, the third date planned, and you haven't even considered the fact that she'd wanna have sex with you at some point. You dug this hole. You figure it out." Marc snapped. 

Steven started to feel guilty for being selfish about this. He had considered the prospect of sex but didn't think he would make it this far. He expected to be rejected by now. "I'm sorry, Marc."

"Oh, no, it's okay, buddy. Still not helping you." He replied in a tone that didn't seem like it was okay at all. 

Marc was jealous after sitting in the background of every interaction with Simone that Steven had. 

Every time he made her laugh, every time she gave him those eyes. He wanted to take over for the kiss but knew that would be hard to explain. 

Simone was just the same as when they were teenagers, but now she's come out of her shell. She was successful, confident, and her own woman in every right. Marc felt that if he had kept her around back then, she wouldn't be anywhere near where she is now. 

But no matter how much he tried to tell himself it was a bad idea to have her back: he missed her so much it hurt. 

 It was every bit Simone's intention to sleep with Steven as soon as he allowed. She felt the chemistry was undeniable, and if that kiss indicated how that would go, it would be a great time. 

Simone knew how most men thought, and in many ways, she had conditioned herself to think how a man would but with the rationality of a woman. This developed for her when she finally left home, started university, and got to know people outside her community. 

She spent a great deal of time pondering having sex with Steven, almost enough to make her believe she was a nymphomaniac. 

Mama would say I'm a whore. A jezebel with impure thoughts. 

Simone hated when her mother's voice popped into her head, but she was typically successful in drowning her out with her own thoughts.

Does he top or bottom? Doesn't matter. Does the bump in his pants deceive me? Probably won't matter. Does he know where the clit is? That matters. A lot.

Simone couldn't imagine him being a mediocre lay with looks like his but wondered if she could get past it if he were. She had a great time with Steven and hoped, prayed even, that he wasn't as shy in the sack as he was outside of it. 

If he was, she wondered, would he let me take over?

[niallthegun]

succulent sweets

[the-bau-quinjet]

Nervous

Hello! This is honestly just a bunch of fluff (a tiny bit of angst bc Spencer worries about everything) and the reader being very nervous! I am currently writing a sequel to take place directly after this one! Read part two here!

Summary: Reader is arrested by the BAU! Little do they know, she is dating the one agent who is currently on medical leave...

warnings: none!

Word Count: 4954

“Are you sure you can pick her up today?” You are currently running around your apartment, phone held to your ear with your shoulder. You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, but first you have to drop your daughter off at school, and you’re running very late.

 “Babe, yes. I’m almost completely healed and I don’t go back to work until tomorrow. I’ll pick her up after school and then meet you at your apartment when you’re done working. Okay?” Thank God for Spencer Reid. He has been on medical leave for 5 days, slowly going insane. But, it meant more time for you and Lily to spend with him, so you’re not complaining.

“That’s perfect, thank you so much! I gotta go, I love you!” You are in such a daze, you don’t stop to think about the three words that just came out of your mouth. You hang up before Spencer can respond as you wrestle with your six year old to put shoes on. Grabbing both of your coats, you run out the door.

 You met Spencer Reid 9 months ago when he came into the hospital you work in with a concussion and some pretty bad bruises. It was really a chance meeting. Normally, you don’t even deal with patients because you work in research. But, your best friend asked you to run some lab results to a patient’s room and you couldn’t say no. Dr. Spencer Reid happened to be that patient.

 He wasn’t supposed to be in the room, but apparently something happened with the CT schedule, and he was done earlier than expected. So, instead of simply dropping off forms in an empty room, you hit a man with a door. Why he was standing behind the door is still a mystery to you, but you felt awful. This man is in the hospital and to make matters worse, you come along and hit him! With a door! You offered to get him some coffee as an apology, and in his concussed state he said “Only if we can go together.” You’ve since realized that was smoother than he normally acts, but you don’t care. He is the most lovable man you’ve ever met. 

 You met up for coffee three days later, and have been dating ever since. He met your daughter, Lily, on the second date. They clicked instantly. You knew then and there that you would love this man forever. You have not, however, actually said I love you before this morning. But, you’re still in too much of a rush to stop and think about it… or even realize it happened.  

 You pull into the parking garage at the hospital 7 minutes late. Honestly, better than you expected. The morning flies by as you work on research grants and hospital studies. All in all, a pretty average day. That is, until you walk back into the building from your lunch break.

 You don’t get a lot of visitors in the research wing, so it’s strange to see two pretty official looking individuals at the front desk. It’s even stranger to hear your name come out of one of their mouths.

 “Hi there. We are Agents Morgan and Rossi from the FBI. We’re looking Ms. Y/N L/N. Is she here?” That must have been Morgan talking.

 Spencer has told you a lot about his team. You feel like you know them all already with how many stories he’s told you. You’ve been hesitant to meet them though because of Lily. You don’t want her to get too attached to him and his friends if things were to go sideways. You haven’t really dated anyone since her father, so you’re a bit nervous. Spencer, of course, completely understands. He just wants you to be happy. It’s hard not to love him even more at the thought.

 You are immediately thrown into a panic at the sight of the two agents. Your thoughts are running wild with possibilities. They must be here because something happened to Spencer. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. He’s not even working today.

 Your panicked train of thought pulls to a stop when the two agents walk up to you. “Ms. L/N? Can we speak with you for a moment?” You nod, leading them toward your office.

 “Of course. My office is just down the hall.” You can’t help but feel nervous at the prospect of meeting Spencer’s coworkers without him. Especially if it has to do with a case they’re working. These are the people he loves most in the world. They are his family. What if they don’t like you? What if they think you’re an idiot? What if they think Spencer can do better? It also doesn’t help that you know they can tell you’re nervous because you know they are profilers. You sit down behind your desk, offering them the seats on the opposite side.

 “Ms. L/N, you’re in charge of the research department, correct?” Rossi says it like a question, but he clearly knows the answer.

 “That’s right.” You are trying everything you can to get your nerves to settle, but it just isn’t working. You’re basically lying to two human lie detectors, even if it is just by omission.

 “So if items were to go missing from this laboratory, you would be responsible for reporting it.” It was Morgan who spoke this time. It’s hard for you to follow their line of questioning. What would go missing? It’s not like you wouldn’t notice if a fume hood suddenly disappeared.

 “I suppose so, although it depends on what items. We don’t have a specific inventory of commonly used products like syringes and gauze, we just order more when we get low.” You can’t decide which agent to focus on. Your eyes are flicking nervously between both of them.

 “What about human tissue?” When the words come out of Morgan’s mouth, you freeze for just a second. You don’t have any human tissue in the lab, so how would it go missing? Of course, the profilers take the delay in your response to mean something other than confusion.

 “We- we don’t use human tissue in this specific laboratory. We focus on small animal models. The other research lab is responsible for human tissue protocols.” You stutter through your words under the harsh glares of the two agents. It is really not helping your nerves.

 “Then how do you explain this?” Rossi slides a paper across your desk. It’s housed in a large plastic bag with “EVIDENCE” across the top in big, block letters. It’s a form you have never seen before. The kind someone would fill out to transfer human tissue between labs. Your hands shake as you hold the paper, slowly trying to figure out what it is. You almost puke when you reach the bottom. It has your signature as an approval of the request. You drop the paper as if it has burned you.

 “I’ve never- I didn’t- how did-” You’re cut off before you can try to finish your sentence, but you don’t hear what they are saying. You feel the cold click of metal around your wrists, tight enough to just pinch your skin. They lead you back out of the building, to a waiting SUV. You can’t help but be grateful that nobody was there to witness your arrest.

 The ride to Quantico is silent. You keep trying to figure out how someone could have signed your name on that form, but you can’t focus. Your mind keeps drifting to memories with Spencer.

 You remember your first date in the coffee shop a block away from the hospital. He ordered a black coffee only to pour in an exorbitant amount of sugar. He blushed slightly, as if he was embarrassed by his drink preferences, only for his features to transform into a soft smile as you did exactly the same thing. The two of you talked for hours, only ending the date when you had to go pick up Lily.

 You remember running into him in the park with Lily, what you would come to refer to as your second date. He looked ethereal sitting at a table playing chess. Lily ran up to him, or rather the chess board he was sitting in front of, before you could stop her. She wanted to know what the horsey was for. You watched as he patiently explained to the five year old that it was a knight responsible for defending the king. 

He told her how it moves on the board. He told her how it was special because it is the only piece that can jump over other pieces. He must have spent 15 minutes talking to her about this one piece. And she was enthralled. When he was done, he looked around to find the child’s parents only to meet your eye. You’ll never forget the way his smile grew when he realized Lily was yours. The three of you spent the rest of the day in the park, playing chess, walking around the pond, and getting to know each other.

 You remember the look in his eyes right after he kissed you the first time. You remember how worried you were the first time he was injured on a case. You remember Lily asking you if he could be her daddy, and crying yourself to sleep that night because you wanted that too, more than anything, and you were so scared it wasn’t going to happen.

 Then you finally remember he’s picking Lily up from school today. Suddenly, the car ride isn’t so quiet anymore.

 “I need to call someone.” The words come out frantic and rushed. You are absolutely sure the expression on your face screams crazy, but this is about your kid, so you really don’t care. You need to call Spencer. Then he’ll come fix this. Explain how you couldn’t possibly be involved. The agent’s response is shorter than you expected.

 “Why?” Rossi sounds skeptical when he asks it. You would later suppose that he had a reason to be skeptical of you. Right now though? You didn’t do anything wrong so the whole innocent until proven guilty thing feels a little fake to you at the moment.

 “My boyfriend is picking up my daughter from school. I need to call him.” You don’t really know how to tell them said boyfriend is one Dr. Spencer Reid. You weren’t supposed to meet his friends yet and definitely not without him. You aren’t really in the right headspace to be deciding if right now is the best moment to out your relationship.

 “If he’s already planning on picking her up, you shouldn’t need to call him.” It feels to you at this moment that they don’t even believe you have a child. Of course, they must know because they have the one and only Penelope Garcia to find out every little thing about you. Before you can say anything else, they are dragging you out of the SUV and into the building. You are pushed through security into an elevator that takes you to the fifth floor. The BAU. You thought the first time you visited Spencer’s work would be a happier occasion. And that he would be here. The whole situation would actually be kind of funny if you weren’t so worried and nervous.

 The first thing you say when you are lead through the very intimidating glass doors is “JJ.” You would come to understand why that might earns some stares. The whole room is looking at you as if you have grown another head.

 “How do you know my name?” That’s a loaded question. Spencer has showed you pictures of his godson, Henry. JJ happened to be in some of those pictures as he is in fact, her son. Of course, you can’t really articulate that because you are too stressed and nervous to form full sentences. It takes a lot out of a person to be arrested, dragged from their place of work, shoved in a car, driven two hours through DC traffic, and then pulled into the FBI building as a suspect.

 Instead of properly calming yourself down until you can form a complete sentence, your eyes go wide and you say “Henry” as if that is enough of an explanation. If looks could kill, you would be dead.

 “How do you know my son’s name?” JJ’s words are so harsh, you physically flinch.

 “I.. it’s just that… You… Well… I-” You are a loss for words, yet again. You didn’t expect for Spencer’s best friend to ever look at you with such disgust. It’s honestly a little overwhelming to think the people he calls family all currently hate you. Even if they don’t really know who you are.

 “Maybe a few hours in here will jog your memory.” And with that you’re left alone to sit in a cold metal chair and stare at your reflection.

 --

 Throughout your relationship, Spencer has tried not to worry. You frequently come home from work a bit later than you originally planned, especially if you feel like you got a late start. So, when you don’t enter your apartment right at 5:30, he doesn’t think anything of it. When 6:00 rolls around, he texts you. At 6:30 he calls. By the time it reaches 7:00 and he still hasn’t heard from you, he’s actively pacing your small living room. When his most recent call goes to voicemail, he breaks. He packs up Lily’s stuff and the two of them are on the way to Quantico, finding you being the only thing on his mind.

 He replays his favorite moments with you in his mind as he drives from your DC apartment to Quantico. Normally, he’d take the metro, but if you really are missing it’s safer for Lily in the car.

He remembers the look on your face when you realized you hit him with a door. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful person. You looked so guilty, he felt the need to hug you to tell you it was okay. It was a foreign feeling for him. He’s never been one to physically comfort people. Maybe it was the concussion. It was definitely the concussion that gave him the courage to ask you to coffee.

 He remembers the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach when he watched you pour almost as much sugar as him into your coffee. The soft smile on your face as the two of you spent hours talking about anything he could think of to keep the conversation from ending.

 He remembers the utter joy he felt upon realizing the five year old who inquired about the horsey on the chess board is your daughter. He remembers how he felt when he looked up, expecting to find an annoyed parent given that he just lectured a five year old on one chess piece for 15 minutes, but was instead met with your kind smile and loving eyes. He loves Lily just as much, if not more than he loves you.

 He remembers how you hung up the phone this morning before he could say “I love you too.” And now the thoughts he’s tried so hard to block out are circling in his mind. The words repeating in his head, over and over. What if I never see her again? What if I can’t tell her I love her?

 He pulls into the garage, carrying Lily so he can run faster into the building. He puts her down when they finally reach the elevator. She’s been surprisingly calm despite Spencer’s nervous attitude.

 “Spencie, where is Momma?” Spencer’s heart constricts at the sound of her sweet voice. He doesn’t know where you are, and it terrifies him.

 “We are going to find out! How would you like to see my desk? You can play with the cube I showed you at home!” He pulls a Rubik’s cube out of his satchel, placing it in Lily’s small hands. He guides Lily to his desk, telling her to stay there while he looks for his friends. She looks so tiny in his desk chair, he would stop to take a picture if his phone had that feature.

 He finds the team in the round table room. His eyes scan the room, landing on JJ’s concerned expression last. He’s surprised to find Will in the room as well. JJ notices him before anyone else.

 “Spence, thank God you’re here. We need fresh eyes.” Before he can protest, Morgan is filling him in on the events that have unfolded.

 “We brought a suspect in from DC, and she knew JJ.” Spencer’s eyes go wide. If the team is in trouble, that could be why Y/N was taken.

 “When I asked her how she knew me, her only response was ‘Henry.’ Something doesn’t add up.” Movement in the doorway catches everyone’s eye.

 “Spencie, did you find Momma yet?” Lily stands in the doorway, looking straight at Spencer.

 “Not yet sweetheart. I have some cookies in my bag, why don’t you go back to my desk and eat them, okay?” 

“Can I have two?” The little girl holds up two of her tiny fingers, unaware of the confused glances from every adult in the room that isn’t Spencer. 

“Of course, sweet pea. Whatever you want. You can even spin around in my chair!” The child nods before running back to Spencer’s desk. Spencer turns around to find all eyes on him. The entire team wears similar expressions of shock and awe.

 “Spencie?” Derek questions the nickname.

 “Sweetheart?” JJ’s more focused on how Spencer responded.

 “Who the heck was that 'sweet pea’ and why have you kept her from me?” Garcia is glaring at Spencer for hiding such a cutie pie from her for however long.

 “She’s why I’m here. Well not her, her mother. We’ve been dating for the last 9 months. I picked up Lily from school today. We were supposed to meet back at her apartment, but she never came home. She’s not answering my calls and I don’t know where she could be.” Spencer breaks down as he tries to explain what’s going on. He can’t imagine a world without you in it.

 “Reid, give Garcia her phone number to track her location. This could all be related to our case. If someone is targeting the BAU, we will find them.” Hotch’s no nonsense tone calms everyone in the room. Again, movement in the doorway catches everyone’s attention.

 “Sir, she keeps saying she can explain everything. I know you said 3 hours, but I think she’s ready now.”

 “Thank you, Anderson. We’ll be right there.” The agent leaves without another word. Hotch turns back to continue filling Spencer in on the case. “Reid, we’ve got a suspect in custody. She doesn’t match the profile, but we think she knows something.”

 “She mentioned a boyfriend in the car. He might know something too.” Morgan pipes in as well.

 “I want to talk to her. If she knows where Y/N is, I have to talk to her.” Spencer is out of the room before anyone can stop him. He’s practically running across the bullpen to get to the interrogation room.

 “Y/N?” Morgan questions to the agents left in the round table room.

 --

 You are so cold. They must have the air turned down to put you on edge. You have finally calmed yourself down enough to form actual sentences instead of useless mumbling.

 “Please. Let me explain! I can tell you everything. Well, not everything, because I don’t know how my signature ended up on that paper, but I can tell you about JJ! And Henry! Let me explain!” You never thought about how weird it would be to know someone could be watching your every move. You feel like you’re talking to nobody as you beg for them to let you explain.

 The door flies open with so much force, you fall out of your chair in shock. There are hands on you, pulling you to your feet before you’ve even registered hitting the ground.

 “Where is sh- Y/N?” Spencer’s tone of voice changes so quickly your brain can’t follow. You just look into his before you burst into tears.

 “Oh thank God. Spencer, I was so scared. I was so nervous when Derek and Rossi came to interview me. I didn’t want them to hate me, you know? Even though they didn’t know who I was. And then I saw JJ, and I got even worse. I mean, she’s your best friend! And she sounded so angry, which was my fault, but I couldn’t even form words to explain myself because I was so sure these people- the people you consider family- were going to hate me and I made everything so much worse. But I-” Spencer knows if he doesn’t cut you off, you’ll ramble endlessly. It’s always like that when you spend too much time alone. As if all the energy you could’ve spent talking to someone pours out of you all at once.

 “Shh, baby, it’s okay. We can explain everything. I’m so happy to see you. To know you’re okay. God, I love you too.” You turn your tear stained face to look up at him.

 “Wha- oh my God. I said that. I didn’t even realize I said it. But it’s true. I love you so much. I can’t imagine a world without you. That’s why I was so nervous about meeting the team. And they wouldn’t let me call you, so I couldn’t ask you what to do.” The two of you continue trying to fill each other in on what has lead you to this moment.

 Hotch and JJ make their way into the room without either of you noticing. They both sit down before either speaks. “Reid, I’m going to need you to leave the room.” Spencer turned around with you still in his arms, your head pulled tight to his chest. He glares at his boss before responding. “No. She didn’t do this. The dates from the case file you gave me, they don’t line up. April 17th, we watched the new episode of Doctor Who and spent the rest of the night discussing theories. April 20th, we went to dinner to celebrate Lily’s sixth birthday. April 22nd we watched Tangled with Lily until she fell asleep and then we…” He trailed off, turning a bright shade of pink. You wiggled in his arms, trying to hide the blush on your face as well.

 “Spence, where’s Lily?” You know he needs to leave if you are ever actually going to get out of this room.

 “She’s at my desk. She looked so tiny in my chair.” He practically has heart eyes as he thinks back to where he left your little girl.

 “Why don’t you go tell her you found me? I’ll be okay.” You wipe the remaining tears from your eyes as you sit back down in the cold metal chair. Spencer looks as though he would rather read Twilight again than leave you, but he reluctantly walks out of the room.

 You start rambling before the agents get a chance to ask you a question.

 “I’m so sorry. I’ve probably wasted so much of your time. I just freaked out when I realized I was meeting Spence’s family. That’s why I know your son’s name.” You turn slightly to look at JJ. “He talks about him all the time, and he’s shown me pictures. I’m so so sorry that you had to worry about your child’s safety because of me. I was just nervous to meet you. That’s why I haven’t met you yet actually. Because I didn’t want Lily to get too attached if something happened and we broke up. Not that I can imagine breaking up with Spencer. I would spend the rest of my life with him if he gave me the chance.” You can feel the tears brimming again. “I really don’t know why my name is on that paper. I never would have signed it! My lab doesn’t use human tissues.” You try to stress that point.

 “Ms. L/N, we believe you. We never thought you were responsible, but it was a suspicious situation. You can never be too careful in our line of work.” Hotch still looks extremely serious, but his tone is slightly more relaxed than when he threw you into this room.

 “Of course. I would’ve thought I was guilty if I didn’t know the truth. Is there anything I can do to help?” You are so relieved to know they don’t think you’re a crazy murderer.

 “We need to ask you a few questions about the people who work in your lab.”

 “Oh. Okay.” You have to actively force yourself not to start rambling again.

 “Do you know any of these people?” The agent shows you three pictures of young women. They couldn’t be more than 25.

 “No…” You can’t put your finger on it, but they look familiar.

 “But?” JJ encourages you to continue.

 “I’m not sure. They look familiar for some reason.” All three women have brunette hair and green eyes. Their face shapes are even shockingly similar.

 “Do you know anyone who looks like these women?” You don’t know how they know that, but you do. They’ve planted the seed, and it instantly grew into a massive oak.

 “I do! Her name is Renee. Um... Renee Watkins. She works in the hospital, in the lab where they run blood tests.” You look at the agents with hope in your eyes. Maybe now they’ll let you leave. They both stand up without saying anything else. Hotch leaves first. JJ stares at you for a minute.

 “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just, you’re his best friend. If you hate me, we won’t work. He cares about all of you way too much for me to get in the way of that.” You honestly still feel awful about the unnecessary fear you’ve caused her and her family.

 “He cares about you too. He’s been happier than I’ve seen him in years. I knew something was up, but I didn’t want to push him.” You can’t keep your smile off your face at her words. “Let’s forget about all of it. I’m just going to focus on the relief of knowing nobody is after my son.”

 “Thank you. I really am so sorry though.” You feel the need to keep apologizing.

 “Really, it’s fine. Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

 JJ leads you back to the bullpen. Right as you turn the corner, you can spot Spence playing with Lily and Henry. He’s captivated their attention with a magic trick.

 “He’s so good with them.” Almost involuntarily, your hand brushes over your stomach.

 “He’s always wanted to be a father.” JJ eyes your hand before giving you a rather pointed look.

 “Oh! No, I’m not pregnant.” You let your arm fall back to your side. “He’s just so good with Lily; she asked me if he could be her dad.” You can feel the tears coming again. “I just know that one day I will have that man’s babies.” JJ snorts and suddenly the two of you break out laughing. Your laughter makes enough noise to capture Spencer’s attention, two little pairs of eyes following his lead. All three of them are suddenly running across the room to you and JJ.

 Lily jumps into your arms, much as Henry does to JJ. You pull her close, leaning into Spencer as his arms circle around you both. The moment is interrupted when Penelope Garcia comes running into the room.

 “I’ve got him. Shane Harrison, 28. He dated Renee Watkins in high school. He was recently fired from his position in the human tissues lab at Children’s National Hospital. There are reports of him breaking in, although nothing was reported stolen due to falsified transfer documents.”

 “What made him start killing?” Morgan asks while you and JJ desperately cover the children’s ears.

 “Renee recently got engaged. She posted all about her new fiancée on social media. I already texted you the address.” JJ says a rushed goodbye to Will and the team is out the door. Lily runs back over Spencer’s desk with Henry so she can show him the Rubik’s cube.

 “Aren’t you going to help them?” You turn to Spencer who hasn’t left your side.

 “I think they can manage this one without me. I’m needed somewhere else at the moment.” As if to prove his point, he leans in to kiss you. It’s short and sweet and everything you needed at the moment.

 The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls the two of you out of your bubble.

 “Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia. I’m sure the Genius Doctor has told you all about me.”

 “He has indeed. You’re even lovelier in person.” Garcia is just as bright and bubbly as Spencer described her. It makes you smile to think that the team has her never ending positivity while they are surrounded by so much darkness.

 “We are having a team gathering at Rossi’s tomorrow night. You should both come. And Lily!” Garcia smiles again before walking away.

 “You know that means we have to go, right?” Spencer asks you the obvious question.

 “I know honey. You’re afraid of what Garcia could do to you if you get on her bad side.” You laugh at his pout, pulling him down the stairs and over to Lily. It’s about time you all head home.

[cheekygreenty]

Leave Me Lonely p.1 - The Darkling x Reader

Based on Ariana Grande’s song Leave me Lonely ft.Macy Grey. Was supposed to be just one part but I got carried away as per usual 🤓

'Get the General!' Zoya's eyes were borderline frantic but her composure remained the same, the once pristine blue kefta was dirty and ragged and her long luscious hair was disheveled, a piece of it in the way of a small cut on her temple.

'Zoya are you alright?' You were exiting the General's tent when you saw her approach, your body filled with an alarming feeling as you raced to meet her and some other Grisha, The skiff, she was manning a skiff across the Fold not even an hour ago, why is she back?

She ignored your question and continued with her dutifulness, 'The General, this is urgent'

You nodded and ran back, mind whirling with the possibilities of the skiffs return. Zoya was a great Squaller who'd successfully manned many journeys across the Fold so why was she back here, all scratched and bruised.

He was conversing with First Army Lieutenants and Captains when a rough grasp around his arm interrupted the flowing conversation. He squared his shoulders but when he saw your panicked face, he relaxed but only the smallest amount. Not even 10 minutes beforehand you two were involved in a heavy argument and at the feel of his tense muscles beneath his kefta, you guessed he thought you were back for more.

You had a right to come back and throw insults at his face, hell, he was the one who brought out that side of you. A vicious, ruthless, and malevolent side you never knew you had, but you ignored that urge.

-Dangerous Love, you're no good for me darling-

'We have a situation.' You cocked your head in Zoya's direction and waited until his company excused themselves and stood to the side before you let Zoya speak.

'I think we may have a sun-summoner.' She said without any negligible hesitancy. The tent suddenly froze in time. The Grisha held their breath and the otkazat'sya paled as your eyes grew wide. A Sun-Summoner.

'We were 2 markers in and were attacked by volcra, a searing light came out of nowhere, or rather came out of a girl, a first-army soldier.' You could see the lieutenant perk up at the sound of one of his being mentioned but Aleksander's expression hadn't changed since Zoya started talking.

'Bring her to me.'

'A Healer is bringing her now.' As she concluded her statements, she silently moved off to the crowd of other Grisha who'd come back from the skiff journey looking equally as shaken as she did.

You leaned back on the desk for support as you settled the information she'd just given you. This was Zoya, a very, very credible witness who'd just said a Sun-Summoner had been found. A legend come true, a myth that no longer needed debunking.

You looked at him again, this time noticing a flicker of hope in his eyes. He stared right back into your own wide eyes and gave a gentle nod followed by a small squeeze of reassurance to your hand which still held a tight hold on his arm. He kept his back to the entrance but you had a full view of her once the tent flap opened.

She was brought in by two guards in a scuffed First-Army uniform, Whether it was from the volcra or just daily use, you didn't know. She looked slightly sickly but mostly scared, like a wounded animal being hunted by its prey.

'Bring her closer.' You had let go of his arm now, that feeling of surety left you cold as his touch disappeared from yours. The guards brought her forth a bit more, letting her go and stepping back as their General finally turned around.

'Closer.' She took a tiny step forward. The poor girl is petrified.

'Well?'

'Well, what. Sir?' She was on the defense, I don't blame her. He was intimidating even when he wasn't using his powers.

'What are you?'

'Alina Starkov, Assistant Cartographer, Royal Corps of Surveyors.' Her fearful expression suddenly changed into a more devastated one. 'They’re all gone. It’s my fault. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?'

'Answer the question.' He leaned back against the desk just as you did.

'A mapmaker, sir' It was clear to you that Ms.Starkov had no idea why she was here. She was scared, alone, and being interrogated by the most feared man in all of Ravka. The tent erupted in a peal of laughter but you had no time for such snobbiness.

'Quiet' You ordered and a silence fell over the space once again. There was a time when you wouldn't dare command a tent full of Grisha, but Aleksander had changed you; changed the way all his Grisha looked at you.

'So who actually saw what happened? Zoya? You manned the mainsail.'

Zoya repeated what she told you, and Aleksander asked the girl whether she'd been tested but your ears stopped listening once she'd stated she grew up in Keramzin. You too grew up in Keramzin before you were shipped off to the Little Palace to train and become a skilled Heartrenderer. You knew they tested all the children, so how the hell did she slip through the cracks?

You came back from your thoughts just as Aleksander approached her and subsequently amplified her powers. A beam of light so bright and strong you felt some heat from it pounced from her skin and up through the ceiling.

Everyone looked away from the harsh ray but you couldn't turn away. It was beautiful and magical, the physical embodiment of hope, but short-lived as Aleksander let her go and she fell back with a look of awe. He moved quickly, whispering into Ivan's ear and then moving back to you.

'Accompany them to the Little Palace. Ride on a horse and be on the lookout, and give her your kefta.' You nodded curtly, knowing he only trusted his inner circle with the transport of the Sun-Summoner to Os Alta, and that included you. Alina was dragged out from the tent still in a daze of her own.

Your earlier argument with him vanished from your memory as he leaned down to briefly kiss you on the top of your head, 'Be safe.' And with that, you left to find your horse.

***

The backroads were peaceful and quiet as your horse galloped along the dirt road. You wanted so badly to sit in the carriage and speak to Alina, a fellow child of Keramzin, but you listened to Aleksander's command and served as a lookout for any oncoming dangers. So far it had been all clear, but as you approached a hill, a tree blocking the road caught your attention. You slid off your horse and signaled the coachmen to stop too.

'The road is blocked! Beware!' One of them shouted and then all hell broke loose. Shots came from everywhere and anywhere while your horse, in a frightful spell, escaped the way you came.

You had no clear line of vision as dust and dirt clouds plummed above ground and a bullet scratched your left shoulder, then your leg. Your eyes stung and lungs burned as you tried to get yourself out of direct lines of bullets and bombs, eventually finding a place behind thick trees.

Ivan and Fedyor joined you almost immediately both panting and the latter holding his hand to his chest.

'You're bleeding Y/N, where is your kefta?' Fedyor panicked and lay his other hand on your leg where the blood glistened like a jewel.

'How many are there?' Ivan risked asking, trying to get your mind off of the bleeding wounds. Your hands were up in the air as you listened for heartbeats and your heart dropped to your stomach. Too many.

'At least 15 more.' You looked around the Grisha desperately devising a plan in your head that would bring you all out alive.

'Get to the carriage, protect the girl' You signaled to the three Heartrenderers and Squaller.

'But you're hurt and you cannot fight the-' Ivan was cut off by the darkening of the forest, a classic tell that Aleksander was here. Relief flooded you all. The shadows loomed over you, directing their course to near the carriage and then up ahead to where Alina was.

You waited for him to erupt from behind the trees and help you, but the minutes ticked by and you were still hiding from the skilled Fjerdan fighters without backup. Fedyor looked to you, disappointment and pity clear on his face.

Only momentarily did the fighting cease as bullets carried on their assault. You assumed they would flee from the fear of being in the Darkling's presence, but they hit back twice as hard. In return, you all fought back equally as strong, knocking out bodies left right and center despite your dwindling body.

All throughout the fight, you had one thing on your mind and that was why Aleksander chose to ignore you. Was he still mad from your argument? No that couldn't possibly be why he would leave you to potentially die at the hands of druskelle.

Yes you were a soldier, but no doubt he knew the extents of the Fjerdan army and their skilled fighters. If outnumbered, a Grisha was basically of no use.

-If you're gonna love me and leave me hanging here....-

You understood she was the Sun-Summoner but you were you. You were the person he shared his bed with every night, the person who could calm his stormy mind, and the person who stayed with him through it all even though you hurt more than he loved. It stung like a throbbing wound and snagged at your already dwindling will to keep the relationship alive.

-then I'd rather you leave me lonely-

—————-

Part 2

Taglist

@aleksanderwh0r3 @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx @pansysgirlfriend @pansysgirlfriend @justmesadgirl

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (15 - Alt Ending)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda refuse to leave without you.

Warnings: dark themes, gun mentions, threatened suicide, manipulation

A/N: never expected to write this despite it being highly requested, but with me being stuck with Particular Taste and in the mood to write some angst, I ended up doing it. I’m still down to write angst, so I may do another Sad Song Sunday, but I’ll let you know.

Original part 15

-

“You worried us, printsessa, disappearing like that,” Natasha addresses you in a chilling tone as the two of them stop a few feet away from you. “And we’ll deal with that later, after you tell Wesley to come out so we can punish him first.”

“He’s not here,” you tell her calmly. “His only job was to bring me here--”

“And take the tracker out of your leg, which we will be putting back,” Wanda interjects with a stern expression. “Now you can either come with us to the car willingly or we’ll drag you.”

“I won’t be doing either of those things.” You stand slowly, lifting the gun to your temple as you go. “Your only choices are to leave me here and go back to the way your lives were before I came in, or you can let me die. If you take me again, I’ll just fight you every day until you wish you’d killed me yourself. No matter how you manipulate my mind, my true self will never love someone who wants to control me. I’ll tell you how much I hate you for ruining my life every second I’m able, and I’ll kill myself the moment I get the chance to do so.”

You notice the glassy look in their eyes as they face each other, and you knew they were having a silent conversation in their minds. Seconds feel like minutes as they seem to discuss their options, eventually turning back to face you. Wanda is fully crying now, and Natasha seems to be physically holding back her own emotional break.

“Please don’t do this, printsessa,” Wanda chokes out with a cautious step forward. “We just want you to come home.”

“What’s home to you is a prison to me.”

“But it didn’t always feel like prison, right? Remember those days we’d bake together, and watch your favorite movies all day?”

“Or that time we took you to Coney Island for a week straight because you couldn’t get enough of it?” Natasha added and you sighed.

“You don’t get it, do you? I was obsessed with those Coney Island trips because it was the only time you didn’t make me feel like a kid that would get lost if I wandered too far! The only time I felt like an actual human instead of a fucking meat puppet!”

“The moment we decided to trust you a little, you abandoned us!” Natasha yells so loudly that Wanda even flinches. “We’re in Nebraska right now because you couldn’t stand being a good girl and waiting for us to get home!”

“You left me with a fucking babysitter, Natasha! It doesn’t matter that it was someone I actually wanted around. You installed cameras and tried to bug Wesley and me. You put a tracker in my leg! If you trusted me, why did you go through so much to make sure I couldn’t leave? You can’t say that you love me and treat me like you don’t.”

“I’m so sorry.” Wanda’s voice comes out in a whisper as she steps forward again, and you watch her eyes for any hints of red. “I never meant to make you feel so cornered, but you have to understand that I’m an Avenger. I’ve seen what enemies are out there and at one point I was one, so I just wanted to do what I could to make sure you never ended up in the wrong hands.”

“She’s right,” Natasha chimes in, clearing her throat as a single tear slips down her cheek. “I know what lengths some people will go to hurt the loved ones of the other side because I used to do that exact thing. I’d let the world end before I let any harm come to either of you, and I guess I went a little overboard with protecting you because Wanda has a bit of an advantage.”

“I know I’ll never understand what it’s like to do what you do, and to live with your pasts…” You take a deep breath as you feel a lump forming in your throat, and the hand holding the gun to your head begins to shake. “But I do know what love is supposed to feel like, and it’s not this. I shouldn’t have to worry about setting you off because I didn’t agree with something, or waking up from a week-long mind trance because you didn’t want me to fight back.”

“How about we start over?” Natasha offers, glancing at Wanda and turning back to you once she nods. “No trackers, restraints, babysitters or manipulation. Just us getting to know you and vice versa, and hopefully rebuilding the love you once felt for us.”

“Please.” Wanda gives a pointed look toward the gun still pressed against your temple. “I know how upsetting this already must be for you, so please. Let us help you make it better. Let us fix this and hopefully have an even better relationship in the future.”

“We love you, and we agree that we should’ve gone about this in a healthier way. Please give us the chance to make this right.”

“And you promise there will be no more tricks?” you ask, and Wanda nods as two more tears make an appearance.

“Cross my heart--”

“--and hope to die.”

You stand there for what feels like minutes, your gaze bouncing between the two women in front of you, hoping to gauge their level of sincerity on expressions alone. As much as you didn’t trust them because of everything they’d done before, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that missed those happier moments, and wouldn’t mind starting over to create more. Perhaps it was worth a shot, if they were truly serious about not messing with your mind anymore.

“Okay,” you finally answer, and you notice the relief appear on their faces. “If you’re serious about starting over and doing this the right way, I’ll give this a chance. But you’re going to have to wait a long time before I start to trust you.”

Wanda grins at the two of you as Natasha approaches you cautiously, and you place the gun on the chair behind you before allowing her to pull you into a hug that you melt into surprisingly fast. Your other girlfriend joins the embrace, and her ecstatic giggle is the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.

-

“Y/N/N...hey wake up!”

You jump up suddenly, nearly bumping into the person standing above you. After a few moments of blinking to adjust to the bright sunlight, you turn your head to see your cousin sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Wesley?!” you gasp as he grins in acknowledgement. “What are you doing here and why do you look like shit?”

“You know, I’m gonna let that go because it’s your wedding day, but I’ll get you back later.”

“Wait, my what?”

“Jesus, did you hit your head or something?”

“Feels like it,” you grumble as your eyes close for a moment.

“Bachelorette party must’ve been crazy.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You sigh and face him again as your eyes open. “Did you have a crazy night too or did you come here all bruised up?”

“I got into a pretty bad accident a little while ago,” he answers after a few moments of silence. “I guess I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want you to worry, but I probably should’ve said something when I got the invitation in the mail. Which reminds me, it’s time for you to get ready.”

He stands up slowly with the help of a cane beside him and limps out of the room, and a chill washes over you as the door closes behind him. You move to run your hands over your face and pause as you feel a cool metal bump against your nose, and you lower your hands to see a ring on the appropriate finger.

Of course it made sense considering--according to Wesley--you were getting married today, and the ring is exactly what you would want, but it just doesn’t make sense how you got here. As you move onto the bathroom and begin showering, you get hit with flashes of moments with Natasha and Wanda that include the moment they proposed, but it feels a bit more like watching a movie than a memory should. Still, there’s a warm feeling in your chest as you come to terms with the fact that you’re marrying two people that have been so good to you since your relationship was formed.

“Come in!” you respond to a knock on your door as you slip on a robe, smiling as Pepper enters the room holding what seemed to be a dry cleaner’s bag and a small jewelry box.

“Hey there, just bringing your dress.” She drapes it carefully over the end of the bed and faces you while holding the box out to you. “And your almost wives wanted you to wear this.”

You take the object from her and lift the top off, gasping as a necklace is revealed. It consists of a simple silver chain, but the pendant has a spider with a prominent red gem that almost seems to glow as the sunlight makes contact with it.

“Need some help?”

You nod with an appreciative smile as you hand her the necklace and turn around, feeling your smile widen as the cool pendant touches your warm skin. Your fingers run over the spider while you wait for Pepper to secure the chain around your neck, and you face her when she pulls away.

“Thank you. Wait!” you call out as she turns to leave. “I just have to ask...Do you think going through with this wedding is a smart idea?”

“Well, I haven’t been around the three of you much, but I’ve seen the way Natasha and Wanda react whenever you’re mentioned. It’s equivalent to someone finding out they won the lottery, honestly. I also know how much time and effort they put into making this house as safe as possible to put their minds at ease about you while they’re away on missions. In my opinion, I think you’re in good hands here, but I’m also not there for the little things. I’d recommend just listening to what your heart tells you.”

You thank her before she leaves the room, letting her words echo in your mind for a bit before moving to get ready for the ceremony. The dress, you quickly discover, is an exact replica of one you’d seen in a magazine that you loved so much you saved it in a scrapbook for years. How you’d managed to track it down, you had no idea, but the questioning thoughts seemed to fade away a bit once you realized how amazing it felt to be finally wearing it.

“How do you feel?” Wesley asks once you reach the bottom of the stairs, and you loop your arm through his free one as he leads you to the back yard.

“If I’m being honest, I’m super nervous about all this. Everything’s felt like a weird coma dream since the moment I opened my eyes.”

“Hey, you’re about to spend the rest of your life with Natasha and Wanda,” he reminds you quietly, and your gaze shifts away from his joyous expression to the small crowd that begins to stand upon your arrival and Natasha and Wanda smiling at you from the end of the flowery path. 

“It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

-

**for future dark!fics you must be 18+ and have your age in your bio in order to be tagged**

Tags: @littlegasps @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @imnotasuperhero @creepingwolfberry @mazikeensdecker @cherrieloco @bebe404 @venteen @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @fayhar @becka107 @wannabe-fic-reader @beforeoursecrets @cosmicbrownies7 @messuhp @mjaudrey @sxphiaswitch @trikruismybitch @muted-stoneheart @multi-images @just-a-normalpersons @want-to-watch-it-burn @stop-drop-and-drumroll @stickystudentlightmug @pianogirl2121 @slut-for-nat

[crowfootwrites]

Bruises | Part II [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

Part II of the Nestor two-shot. This part is significantly longer than the first part, but we get to see Nestor takin' care of business, so. Also, there's a Marcus cameo.

Warnings: implied violence; gun usage; language | Words: 1,861

Part I of Bruises

Two days later, you’re back at work, opting for a floral catsuit to keep your bruising covered. Your sides, back, and thighs are starting to look pretty gnarly.

Nestor had indeed taken you to the hospital and stayed with you while doctors performed a series of ultrasounds and CT scans to check for any internal hemorrhaging; he was on the phone for a while and you could hear snippets of angry conversation, likely with Miguel or Marcus about finding the guy that did this. When you were given the all-clear, Nestor had taken you home, insisting on you taking it easy. He had made dinner and curled up with you on the couch, trying to avoid jostling you at all costs. When the two of you had finally made your way to bed, his fingers gently caressed you and he pressed soft kisses against the deep violet bruises blooming across your torso. You saw the quick flash of heartbreak in his eyes at seeing you hurt, and you had curled against him, falling asleep safely in his arms.

It’s a Tuesday and it’s early, so the club is still fairly slow. You’re bartending tonight, thankfully, glad to have a large slab of wood between you and everyone else. You’re not sure what progress Nestor has made on finding the guy, but you still have your job, so you count your blessings and don’t ask questions.

Another blessing: the other bartender for the evening arrives, and it’s an intimidating-looking girl you’ve worked with a few times named Morgan. All but the most confident (or the stupidest) patrons find her pin-straight black hair, severe makeup, and perma-frown a little daunting. No one ever fucks with Morgan and you’re glad to have her beside you for the night.

Things start to pick up around 11 and suddenly, it’s busy, even for a Tuesday. Morgan leans over to remind you about the drink special your boss is promoting, and you groan internally, knowing the tips are the only thing making it worth your while. You and Morgan make a good team, supplying drinks at a breakneck pace while club lights flash around you, obscuring most of what’s happening past the first row of patrons at the bar.

You’re throwing together a Jack & Coke when you hear it. The voice sends panic jolting down your spine as it requests a Budweiser. You stare at your trembling hands, a lime wedge clutched between your fingers.

You force your eyes upward and it’s him. The same slicked back brown hair, the same oily smile, even the same leather jacket. Your eyes widen and he looks back at you with a calculating gaze. Your immediate reaction is a desire to run. But as soon as the thought appears you dismiss it. The club is packed, and it would be easy for him to try something in the middle of a throng of people. No, the safest place for you is behind the bar, where other people can keep their eyes on you.

You force a smile that you’re sure comes out as more of a grimace.

“Sure thing,” you tell him, the pitch of your voice just a little too high. You hand the Jack & Coke to its owner, managing to spill a little on your shaking hands, then head over to the cooler for the beer.

You can feel his eyes on you and your stomach turns, bile burning in your throat. In the dark corner of the bar, shielded partially from view by Morgan, you can feel yourself breaking down. Your eyes flash around you in a panic. Everything and everyone feel too far away. You don’t see the bouncer by the door, and there’s no escape route that doesn’t take you past the man staring at you from the end of the bar.

You’re not sure what to do so you call the person you trust the most.

Nestor answers on the first ring. “Amor?” His voice is, understandably, apprehensive.

A whimper steals through your lips before you can get the words out. “He’s here.”

“Are you inside?” Nestor’s tone has lost all sense of worry. His words are clipped, business-like, and you know this isn’t going to end well.

“Yeah, I’m working the bar with Morgan,” you mumble, dropping your head into your hands as Morgan looks over at you with concern.

“Stay behind the bar,” he commands. “If he tries anything, break a bottle, get a paring knife. Whatever you gotta do, mi amor. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

The line goes dead and you take a couple deep breaths, glad that, despite what’s about to happen, Nestor is coming. You grab the Budweiser out of the cooler, pop the cap and plunk it on the bar top in front of him, not meeting his eyes.

“How’s your night going, babydoll?” The words slither out of his mouth deviously and you swallow around the knot in your throat. Your eyes glance to digital clock beside the register. Thirteen minutes to go.

“Busy,” you grind out through gritted teeth. You move to the middle of the bar to help a waiting customer, and the man’s eyes follow you as you make drinks. He doesn’t leave the bar. He sits and leers and you wonder if he thinks that he’s going to follow you out again at the end of the night. As if you wouldn’t have learned your lesson? Good thing he won’t be here ‘til closing, you think, as your eyes flicker obsessively to the clock, counting down the minutes until Nestor arrives.

Nestor, apparently, makes very good time when he’s angry, because you see him come through the door of the club with two minutes to spare. An audible sigh of relief passes your lips as his eyes find yours over the crowd and he makes his way to the bar. You bite your lip as your gaze lands on Marcus talking to the bouncer who has returned to his post. The bouncer, the same one who was working the night you were attacked, glances at you, then nods to Marcus. Marcus disappears into the crowd behind Nestor. You can’t help the tightening in your chest. This is going to be bad.

You come to stand in front of the man so Nestor knows who to see about their little assault problem. The man, still unaware of Nestor and Marcus’ approach behind him, winks nauseatingly at you and just as he reaches over the bar for your wrist, a firm hand clenches around his forearm and pulls back. The man jerks back on the bar stool and spins to face two vicious looking men in suits.

The man sputters, trying to yank his arm free, but Nestor has no intention of letting him go. “Who the fuck are you?” the man yells. You glance at Nestor’s hold on the man’s arm, his knuckles turning white as his grip intensifies.

Marcus paces around to the other side of the man’s stool, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. “We hear you like to hit women,” he says nonchalantly, bringing his mouth close to the man’s ear. His one free arm flies up, trying to hit Marcus, but Marcus was expecting it. He grabs it and yanks it behind the man’s back. Marcus steps back just slightly, drawing out his gun, keeping it low so as not to alarm the crowd. You see the added length of a silencer on the end of it as Marcus shoves it into the man’s side and you step forward.

“Not in here, please,” you beg, and Marcus smiles at you benevolently.

“Mija, what do you take me for? I would never,” he says, and you cock an eyebrow, knowing full well he would.

Between the two of them, Nestor and Marcus hustle the man outside as he yells frantically over the crowd. He can’t really be heard over the music, and no one appears to notice, likely assuming security was removing him. They take him to the back, towards the back door of the club that leads into the alley where he attacked you. The heavy door slams shut with a note of finality, and you try to put it out of your mind. It’s out of your hands anyway. It was out of your hands the minute you told Nestor about it.

You see Morgan looking over at you as you try to get back to work, willing your hands to be steady. She seems to know better than ask, though, and you’re grateful for that. Thirty minutes later, Nestor comes back in through the front door of the club, nodding at the bouncer as he passes. The crowd has thinned out and the bar is considerably less busy. Nestor makes his way over and you run out from behind it to wrap yourself around him in a hug. The fingers on your right hand find their way to their usual spot around one of Nestor’s braids and you give it an affectionate tug. It’s slight, but you feel him sink into your embrace, seemingly as relieved as you. You pull back and scan him from head to toe, your heart racing. He appears unscathed, but you do notice the tiniest drop of blood on his dress shoe and point it out to him. He frowns and grabs a cocktail napkin off the bar and leans to down to rub it off, as you release a tired chuckle. He crumples the napkin and puts it in his pocket, then caresses your cheek, tucking you against his body.

“He won’t be bothering you anymore,” he murmurs.

You sigh, partly relieved, partly concerned for Nestor. “¿Lo mataste?” you ask hesitantly, not sure if you’re ready for the answer.

Nestor pulls away to look at you dubiously, as though he can read you like a book. “You really want to know?”

“I feel like I need to,” you say with a shrug, but your grip remains tight on Nestor.

A hard look passes briefly over his eyes before he gazes back down at you with a lopsided smile. “We made sure he won’t be touching anything he’s not supposed to anymore.”

Your face contorts as you wonder what they did with the fingers, but you opt not to ask.

“And he’s not gonna come back?” you ask, your voice small. You’re sure Nestor can feel your heartbeat clamoring against his chest.

“Not unless he wants to die,” Nestor whispers soothingly, and you let out a heavy exhale. “And I talked to Jimmy at the door. He gets anywhere near this place, they call me or Marcus.”

Tears sting your eyes, and you sniff as you pull Nestor tighter against you. “Thank you,” you mumble into his lapel. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“So, what now?” you ask, unsure what a person does after they dismember someone in the darkened parking lot of a club.

Nestor pressed a kiss against your forehead, and you could feel his lips curling into smirk against your skin. He pulled away and met your eyes with a shrug. “Now we go home.”

[becomingbts]

Find a Way (15)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Type: angst-fluff-supernatural-series

Warning(s): deals with suicide and death. If you’re not comfortable with that subject, I suggest you don’t read it. Supernatural au.

3.2k

Summary: “If you accept, you’ll go back in time each time you’ll fail.” “I don’t care, I’ll save her no matter what.”

In 2011, he left everything behind so that he could follow his dreams. Yet, he also left his bestfriend, the one who supported him to go to the auditions, the one who cheered on him, the one who brought him banana milk when he felt down, but also the one who killed herself a day before he finally came back home.

Notes: Hello everyone! It’s been a while since I updated this series, I’m so sorry!! I keep on trying to finalize proofreading and then I get stuck and forget for a while, but I hope you’ll like this new chapter! I plan on trying to make more consistent update as we’re nearing the end of the story! I hope you’ll enjoy it!! Take well care everyone, love you lots!

Admin Dolly

Chapter 14 - here - Chapter 16

Fourth Timeline

"She what?" Jungkook froze, unable to comprehend her words.

"My sister. She died in an airplane crash. She was supposed to come back today from her school trip. I... I was supposed to t-take her home tonight," Jungkook's eyes widened as it finally made sense; it suddenly clicked. The postcard from France, (Y/N)'s sudden departure from work, the fact that no one knew where she had gone... It was all because her sudden departure for Seoul had never been planed this early. She was supposed to leave after work, only during the afternoon to fetch her sister.

Jungkook put his confusion aside even if it finally started making sense; he had to support her, it was more important than him trying to put the puzzle's piece together. 

"A-are you alright?" He tentatively asked even if he already knew the answer to the question.

"How am I supposed to be? The only person that stuck to me my whole life just left. How am I supposed to be alright? I swore to protect her with everything that I had-"

"Hey, hey, hey (Y/N) it's not your faul-" she cut him abruptly.

"I could have prevented it from happening!! I should have told her no from the very beginning when she asked me if she could go on that trip, I should have said no! I could have done somet-"

"(Y/N), it's not your fault, listen to me," she went quiet after his sudden yell, startled. His own eyes had also widened, bewildered by the volume of his own voice, yet he knew that he had to cut her rambling. Self-blaming would not help anyone, her sister would sadly remain deceased. How could she blame herself for agreeing to a trip? Of course, she would agree. Jungkook knew better than anyone else that (Y/N) always had to skip school trips because she never got the means for it. It was a given that she would say yes to her sister. "It's not your fault, you wanted her to be happy and not to miss trips like you did when we were younger right?" She looked away briefly and Jungkook got the confirmation he needed. Even if they didn't speak for years, he just knew her and he could tell that she probably used all her savings for her sister to go. (Y/N) had never had the possibility to go on school trips when both of them were younger. When her parents had died, she received monetary help but never got enough to go on trips with the whole class. The provided financial help was supposed to support her in her studies and for her future. School trips were usually deemed as comfort and not as a  need. Hence, she had always been left behind while Jungkook had made it his mission to take a lot of pictures for her and to bring her back a present from each trip they made. It always made her smile and Jungkook could still remember the way she cried the first time he brought her back a little present. So it only made sense for her to do everything for her sister to enjoy school trips the way she had dreamed to. "You didn't want her to miss on anything like you had to, right? You only wanted her happiness, how could it be your fault when you only wanted to make her happy?" Jungkook took a step in her direction and for once, she didn't move away. However, her teary eyes refused to meet his and she snorted quietly at his words.

"And yet, it only brought misfortune. Her last moments were in a hospital when she should have had a much longer life. Yet, her lifeless body was lying there, leaving me all alone." She smiled bitterly, tears rolling on her cheeks as she finally let her despair overwhelm her. Wincing at the sight of her tears, Jungkook tried to push his own heartbreak aside to comfort her as he closed the distance between them and draped his arms over her small frame, engulfing her in his warm embrace, trying to console her as much as he could. He didn't know if he could help considering their broken relationship, but if he could, at least this one time, be a shoulder for her to cry, then so be it.

"I'm sorry it happened to the both of you, I'm sorry for your loss (Y/N)." He let his hand wander through her hair, bringing her head closer to him as he tried to hide his own tears. "I'm so, so, sorry."

"I was so happy that t-today would be the l-last day without h-her," she nuzzled her nose against the crook of his neck, seeking warmth and comfort even if nothing but the cold wind was surrounding them. Jungkook felt like her warmth was so far away, her own presence seemed to hold no warmth. Nothing was right, nothing between them was alright, she wanted to hate him for leaving, to hit him for destroying what they had, but if for five minutes she could finally have someone, stay close to him, she would pretend. Pretend that they were fine, that he still was her home.

"W-why did you have to leave?" She whispered as reality crashed down on her. Now she was alone and maybe they would never be fine again. Maybe she would never be alright again.

"I'm sorry (Y/N) if I could take it all back, I would."  He mumbled, fully knowing that he couldn't, but he still hoped that he could make it right this time.

"She had promised me that s-she'd never leave me alone as you did." She hiccuped and Jungkook's heart broke at her quiet confession. Her voice was so quiet that he had to focus to properly hear her words as if worried that he would disappear if someone were to hear her.

"And she would have never left if she could have helped it. (Y/N), you were her dearest person. When we were younger, she threatened to kick me out of the house if I ever made you cry (Y/N)," it hurt, and her heart truly had other things to think about but she still smiled a bit hearing his words.

"She told me yeah," Jungkook whipped his own tears quietly before (Y/N) could notice them, "once you left, she didn't even try to keep her hatred for you silent." He sighed with a small smile, imagining well that her younger sister probably didn't try to keep her words sweet, he wondered what she told (Y/N) but he shook his curiosity away.

"Let's leave that bridge, yeah? We should get you somewhere warm, you're frozen." He was rubbing his arms against hers, noting again how cold she was. Hoping that it was only because of the cold, Jungkook let his eyes meet hers and he could see the distance she tried to keep between them.

"I-I don't really want to stay with you, to be honest." She pushed him gently, avoiding eye contact again. She didn't want to sound miserable and neither did she want to sound mean, but the only thought of staying near him suddenly made her shiver. It was hard to suddenly have someone back in her life when she didn't have him for years. She had believed that she would never have him back, and now that she lost half of her soul, she didn't know how to welcome him again. Did she even want to? She wasn't sure, all she knew was that she didn't want for him to be around today. Her head was hurting; she wanted to go to sleep.

"I can understand that," Jungkook's smile slowly vanished as his concern grew. He could understand that she didn't want to spend time with him, yet he still hoped that he would be able to look after her a little longer. However, it didn't seem to be in her plans for now. Again, he totally could understand that as much as it stung, but he still wished that he had more time to watch over her.

"Would you like me to find you a hotel room for tonight? I don't think that it would be wise for you to drive in your emotional state." He asked, already bothered by the idea of her driving. It couldn't be safe for her to drive now. He wouldn't force her to stay with him, but he could always pay for a hotel room for her. He would never mind for her.

"I'm okay... I'll be okay. I... I'll have to. Thank you for... I don't really know, thank you though." She returned her glance as he took her hand into his, rubbing his thumb against her palm, soothingly trying to comfort her. He didn't know how to provide support. She had changed so much and so did their relationship. He didn't know what was okay and what wasn't anymore. Jungkook guessed that he only had himself to blame for that, yet he wished he knew her more so that he could encourage her better. Everything was different from the time she lost her parents and Jungkook felt incompetent to actually help her properly. But he would try his best. He didn't come so far only to give up now.

"I know I haven't been here for the last year's, I've been the shittiest friend that you probably ever had if we don't count Ana-"

"Of course you weren't worse than her, find someone from your size-" she almost laughed a bit as he said the name of 'Ana'. She had been a friend of (Y/N) for some months before she realized that she was trying to basically initiate her to drugs. She had overlooked a lot of red flags for that girl even if she realized rather quickly that a lot was wrong between them. Her sister and Jungkook had greatly encouraged her to cut ties quickly; (Y/N) smiled at the thought. Maybe Jungkook would help remind her of all the happy times she got with her sister before she lost her. She wouldn't let herself depend on him again, but if he could alleviate her pain, even just a little, who was she to take it away from herself?

"Of course I wasn't, thank you for acknowledging that; if you ever tell me that I was worse than her, I would start questioning my whole existence." He smiled back at her, keeping her hands warm as he rubbed them in his.

"You're not that far from her you know?" He almost laughed at her attempt of teasing. Nothing was alright, but maybe if life started being kinder with her, she could start healing. Jungkook would never have the pretentiousness of thinking that he would be her remedy; he had done too much damage already. However, maybe he could be a painkiller. And if he had the opportunity to help and ease her pain, he would do anything for her.

"I'm offended, but I'll act as if I didn't hear that," he smiled warmly at her, "as I was saying, I'm probably the last person that you'd like to contact, but please, come to me if you ever need to. I know I've been shitty. I have gone against everything I always said I'd never become, but I'll try to make up for everything, I maybe won't ever be able to fill up the gap I created between us, but I'll try to be the friend that I've never been, and even if you don't want me to, it's okay, I can bear with us being only acquaintance, I just want you to be happy. I know it's going to be hard, you're probably living your worst nightmare, but please. You're not alone. I can be here if you want me to... If you allow me to. I'm a phone call away, I swear. No more empty promise, I'll make them all worth it. If you don't trust me, I can understand but p-please, just.." he was at a loss of words. He had so much to say and he felt like he wasn't conveying any of it. Jungkook felt like he would never find the good words and he hated it. His promises felt empty even to him, but he meant all of them! He had to get it right, he had to find the words. If he didn't, when would he ever make it right again? However, before he could continue, (Y/N) interrupted him, much to Jungkook's surprise.

"I hope you know that your words will have weight, right?" She asked, unsure of what to say after his speech.

"I know. And I'll bear it this time. Here take this, it's my number, feel free to take it or throw it. Just... Yeah, do whatever you want, the choice is yours, but my words are not empty this time. I mean them. I'm here for you whatever happens." She weirdly still had her hand in his as he gave her the piece of paper he had so carefully prepared earlier this day.

"Did you prepare this in advance?" Her question panicked him a bit, yet she didn't leave room for his answer, "thank you for saying this." She was obviously shaken and he hated himself for not being able to help more. "I should get my car." She finally broke the contact, leaving his arms with a sad smile, and he hoped that it didn't mean that it would be the end. It couldn't, he needed for her to be strong and to go on even if it would be hard.

"Let's meet someday, yeah?" Jungkook hesitated but he asked anyway, hopeful.

"Maybe, yeah." She nodded one last time before leaving, walking away under his warm eyes while he truly hoped that she would be alright. He watched her until she disappeared at the next corner and he finally let out a breath that he had not realized he was holding.

He had broken the loop. (Y/N) was alive, she made it.

Even though her healing process would probably be long and painful, she would at least live, and it was all that mattered. She had his number, the choice would be hers to text him or not. Jungkook prayed for her to take it, he hoped that she wouldn't throw it but he couldn't force her to call him either. He glanced at his phone as he felt it vibrating inside his pocket and he wondered which one of his brothers tried to contact him. However, as he checked his notifications, he already had a notification from (Y/N). Jungkook had already saved her number as he remembered it from the previous timeline, so as he saw her name on his tiny screen, he almost giggled aloud in the middle of the street.

The message wasn't long, nor was it saying that she wanted to see him again. No, instead, she had sent a brief "Hi, it's (Y/N)" but it was enough for him to feel his heartbeat accelerate like crazy, pounding against his chest as he rubbed one hand over his heart in a poor attempt to soothe it down. She had taken on his offer. (Y/N) had contacted him, and even though it didn't mean that they would meet soon or that it was going to be easy to be forgiven or for her to ever trust him again, he would perhaps have a chance and it made him giddy. He couldn't help the smile that grew on his lips. Relief flowed within himself. 

She would make it, he would make sure of it. He had to be there for her from now on. He smiled at the possibilities that he could finally think of without feeling his stomach twist uneasily; he could maybe introduce her to his members, maybe take her somewhere nice for a simple walk at night and other things that he dearly missed doing with her. They could go to restaurants, go shopping, even making tourists things. Jungkook didn't care, he'd break every single rule made by bighit if it included her happiness at the end.

So much was now possible and he couldn't keep at bay the excitement that overtook him. He would treasure her the way she deserved. He would man up and not ruin his promises again.

He had to protect her the best way he could. His eyes shut tightly as he remembered what she told him, the final missing piece of the puzzle. Her sister died, it was so strange to imagine it. She died so young, it was unfair. How could sure a pure soul be taken away so easily? Jungkook had tried to push his own shock away the fastest he could because he had known that she would need someone to lean on, not someone who would break after the news, so he had tried to shake it off as long as he was in front of her, yet the reality was now taking a toll on him. (S/N) died, leaving a broken older sister behind; a sister that would have given her life to trade with her if she had been able to.

Jungkook sighed. The news shocked him too, maybe he had never been close to her, but he saw that girl grow up too. He knew her even though she wasn't keen on him, he still knew her pretty well, and it hurt to know that he would never see or speak with her ever again. He had expected to meet her, to have to explain, to face an insurmountable wall that would be the biggest hardship between him and (Y/N), however, she would actually never be there anymore and the realization almost brought him to tears. He wasn't close to her, but she had still been a constant of his childhood. Jungkook felt like something had been stripped away from him despite him expecting to be less affected. Sometimes, death left an unspeakable void, even when one didn't expect it.

Jungkook could only imagine how (Y/N) felt. She had been her entire world, they used to be a duo, an unbreakable one. Yet, fate visibly had other plans and Jungkook wondered why was life so terrible with (Y/N). He sighed again, rubbing his temples a bit, everything was slightly too overwhelming for him. He tried to relax his mind thinking of (Y/N), trying to remember her small smile. She would be okay and it wasn't a mere detail. He finally broke the loop. He did the first step. 

Or so he thought as he suddenly and roughly woke up, sweating and panting.

Why the hell did he get back to his starting point?

Frozen into place, Jungkook looked around and immediately recognized his room. He suddenly jolted awake, mindlessly looking for his phone to check the date. As he found it, Jungkook got blinded by the screen but his eyes widened as he read the date on his screen. He was back to square one.

29th April.

The day of (Y/N)'s death.

[havin-a-wee]

Stars Align

pairing: harry styles x y/n

warnings: fluff, ig you could consider it angst but its really just mysterious

word count: 2k

hello! i apologize for kind of disappearing, my fic rec account has kind of blown up and ive been super busy with that.

this is my entry for @sweetlygolden 's Harry On Holiday Challenge! i chose strangers in the same city, and the line prompt “That is the worst sunburn I’ve ever seen.” i honestly already have a part 2 planned out but we'll see how it goes!

“How much longer are you going to stare at that pretending like it’s interesting.”

Her soft voice surprised him, and he whipped his head around to see who had been speaking to him.

For the first time in a while, Harry was able to get away for a little. Of course, he travels a lot for work, but this was the first vacation since he can remember where he was alone, doing whatever he pleases. He chose Italy for this special occasion, because it’s always been one of his favorite places, and he missed the freedom of wandering around the boot shaped country without a care in the world.

The day's adventures had brought him to La Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna e Contemporanea, which is a museum that he's been wanting to see for quite some time. He started the day off by getting a cappuccino and a crespelle from a wonderful little cafe down the street from his hotel.

Right afterwards he walked to the museum, taking in the sights around him on the 20 minute trek to his destination. Before the woman behind him snatched his attention, he was staring at a painting of an abstract house. The house was only painted in blue, and the artist had used the different shades and tones of the color to create the details in the painting.

He had been staring at it for a good amount of time, which he assumed is what prompted the stranger to talk to him.

It’s his 3rd day on the trip, leaving him 4 more until he has to be back in L.A. for work. He has no plans, no schedules, no job to do. It’s just him and the world. At least, that’s what he assumed it would be. The vacation is supposed to be a solo one, however, he’s currently staring at a stranger that decided to speak to him. And for some reason, he is drawn to her. Compelled to spend time with her after just a simple sentence was spoken between the two of them.

When he fully turns around she jumped, a bit startled by his bright red complexion. “That is the worst sunburn I have ever seen!”

It was true, Harry had managed to get himself a nasty burn on the first day in Italy. He usually tans instead of getting a sunburn, but when you’re used to the dreary weather of the UK, it can be hard to forget how strong the sun is in other places.

So he had laid out on the beach and fell asleep, waking up a few hours later with tomato red skin and a burning sensation covering the exposed skin.

“That’s what happens when y’fall asleep on a beach in Rome,” he chuckled, smiling awkwardly at the woman before him.

She’s beautiful, there is absolutely no denying that. She was wearing a simple spaghetti-strap black dress that cut off right at the knee. There were no designs, no embellishments, just a black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Her lips have a deep red lipstick smeared across them, and he couldn’t help but notice how the color complimented her skin tone. Her simple black pumps completed the outfit, and her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, with a few of the front strands falling out of the hair tie and framing her face.

“I’d assume so.” Her demeanor is serious, even though there's a smile on her face. She’s…..intimidating?

Harry hasn’t been intimidated by anything since he was a teenager. Once you perform in front of thousands of screaming people, who also happen to idolize you, things don’t tend to phase a person anymore.

But for some reason, her presence caused butterflies to fly around in his stomach, a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. He actually enjoyed the feeling, it reminded him of when everything was normal.

What also reminded him of normality was the fact that she seems to not have the slightest clue of who he is. If she does, she’s sure as hell good at hiding it.

“You’ve been looking at the same painting for 10 minutes, just wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.” A small laugh escaped her lips, and the noise agitated the fluttering butterflies residing in his tummy. Her voice is mesmerizing, and she sounds like what Harry imagines an angel to sound like. She has an American accent, and it eased his nerves slightly that she was also a tourist.

He turned back to the painting to look at it, but it was also convenient in that she wouldn’t be able to see his undoubtedly flushed cheeks.

“Yeah m’not sure what it is ‘bout it but there’s somethin’ special with this one.”

“That’s Prismi lunari by Fortunato Depero, he was very talented.” Harry spun around once again to face her, shocked at her knowledge of the random artwork.

“You know that off of the top of your head?” He tilts his head and looks at her, furrowing his brows in confusion. He’s pretty sure there was no label for the painting, and if there was it was way too small for her to see from where she’s standing.

“I know a lot of things.”

The statement was simple, but Harry wondered if her words paired with the smirk on her face are code for something else. “How long have you been here?” Her question snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at her and smiled. He flicks his wrist and directs his attention to it, reading the Gucci watch adorning his wrist.

“Well I got here at 11, so about 5 hours.” It honestly surprised him when he realized it was 4 o’clock, but he knows how wrapped up he gets in artwork so he must have lost track of time.

“Jesus christ! I can barely stand to walk around a museum for an hour!” She blows out a puff of air, mocking being out of breath. They both laugh at her comment, Harry laughing a bit harder than her. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! M’Harry, s’nice to meet you.” He stuck out his ring-clad hand, and her delicate fingers wrapped around his as she shook it.

“Well Harry, wanna get out of here and walk around with someone who knows the city?” She points at herself, and the small smile she gave him earlier transformed into a silly grin.

“Well m’not sure how well an American can know the city, but I’ll bite.” Usually he would never do this. Going off with strangers is never a good idea, especially because of his status. But there’s something about the girl that makes Harry feel safe. They had just met yet he feels like he could trust her with things he hasn’t even told his best friends.

“An American who’s been living here for a year, that is.” His eyebrows raise slightly, intrigued by her new admission. But before he can even open his mouth to speak, she grabs his wrist with her daintily manicured hand and whisks him out of the quiet museum.

The air was humid, quickly drawing beads of sweat from his forehead. He’s also quite baffled at how she was completely unphased. Not a single drop of sweat was dripping on her body, her soft skin untouched like an old porcelain doll, preserved for years in perfect condition.

“I’ll show you around a little, we can go to this wonderful little vintage store I know.” She had turned to face him, her hand moving from his wrist to cup his one hand in both of hers. “Um- at least, if you want to.” For the first time, she was nervous. Although she will never admit it, Harry makes her extremely nervous. Extremely.

When he turned around when they first met, her jump of surprise wasn’t just because of his bright sunburn. In fact, it wasn’t about that at all. It was about how fucking attractive he is. He really looks like one of the statues that was put up in the museum. His sparkling green eyes send a shiver down her spine, and the tattoos peaking through his thin white t-shirt cause a fire to build in her stomach.

Having someone to talk too while he traversed the streets of Rome is a lot more enjoyable than Harry had anticipated. He purposefully told all of his friends that he was going to be MIA while on this trip. But the fact that she is a stranger changes it in some way, in a good way.

The cobblestone streets are surprisingly smooth, and they walk next to each other in a comfortable silence for a long amount of time. The silence would only break when she would point out something in their field of vision. At one point, Harry pauses, standing still in the middle of the street with a thinking look on his face. He realizes that he doesn’t know her name, which seems ridiculous to him because they were walking around a foreign country like the best of friends. She turns to him, matching his confused look when they lock eyes. “I just realized I don’t know y’name.”

Instead of reacting like he would expect one to react when asked that question, her pupils dilated and for some reason she appears to be scared. Why would someone be scared when you ask for their name?

‘Maybe she thinks her name is embarrassing’ Harry thought, still looking at her with a confused look, but now it was laced with a bit of suspicion.

He watches her sigh, and her hand went up to her ponytail and pulled the black elastic out, her soft hair cascading down her shoulders. With another sigh she said, “Y/N. My names Y/N.”

“That’s a really beautiful name.”

“Oh! There’s the store!”

He found it odd that she was so eager to switch the subject, but goes along with it nonetheless.

The vintage store is lovely, and Harry was able to find a beautiful ring and necklace set, matching gold roses on both of them. They looked around the shop for about 15 minutes, Harry being the only one to make a purchase.

The sun had set by the time they went outside, which isn’t surprising considering that it was almost dark when they walked into the little shop. They stood, facing each other outside of this small little shop in Rome. Two strangers, who just happened to cross each other's path. Harry knows this won’t last forever, and he also knows that he wants to see her again. In a leap of faith, he pulls the gold necklace out of the small brown bag and looks up at her.

“Here, I got them so we could match.” It was bold, but Harry feels connected to this girl, and he doesn’t know it, but she feels the exact same. The smile she gave him when he handed her the necklace was bright and genuine, the creases next to her eyes proving its authenticity. He motioned for her to turn around, wrapping the necklace around her neck and clasping it while she held up her hair.

“Thank you Harry. This is the best day I’ve had in a while.”

“Likewise.”

“I hate to do this, but I have to go. Have a wonderful rest of your trip Harry.”

It was then that she placed a small, tender peck on his lips, barely lingering for a second before pulling away.

“Wait! Can I get y’number?” Her smile slanted into a smirk, and she pulled a small card and a pen out of her small black clutch. She placed the card up against the brick wall, leaning it against it and scribbling something down on the paper. When she finished writing, she pressed her lips against the card, handing it to Harry.

He looked down at it, expecting to see a series of numbers, but he was met with a simple note, scribbled on the piece of cardstock next to the red lip print she had left.

May the stars align in our favor once again. - Y/N

He looked up frantically, planning to ask her to write her number down as well, but he was met with nothing.

She had disappeared into the night, leaving as quickly as she appeared earlier that day.

[elivanah-writes]

Gift of the gods

pairing: Paul Lahote x female!pagan!reader

Sum: what if the gods did granted readers wish? 

warnings: a smal bit of smut please skip that if you’re under 18!

masterlist

It was almost twilight when y/n arrived at la push beach with her small backpack, it had been years since the last time that she had been here but it still felt like coming home. She quickly kicked out her shoes so she could feel the earth beneath her bare feet as she walked to what used to be her secret spot. It was a place close to the shoreline that was kept hidden by some bushes and a few trees. If you’d be walking on the beach you’d never see it if someone was sitting there, and that was what she was looking for. She didn’t want people to see what she was about to do, this was something for herself, something she did every time she traveled.

Once she had reached the spot she drops down to her knees in the sand and starts to unpack the five candles and matches that were in the backpack. Colored ribbons decorated four of the candles, she picked up the one with the yellow ribbon and placed it in the east, the one with the red she placed in the south, blue in the west, and green in the north so the four candles formed a circle around her. As she took the matches in her hand she took the time to clear her mind as best as she could so her mind was only in that moment when she started to light each candle. By then the sun was set but it wasn’t completely dark yet, ‘the perfect time’ she thought to herself as she started to cast her protective circle.

“I call the Guardian of the east and the element of air to watch over this sacred circle”

“I call the Guardian of the south and the element of fire to watch over this sacred circle.”

“I call the Guardian of the west and the element of water to watch over this sacred circle.”

“I call the Guardian of the north and the element of earth to watch over this sacred circle.”

With every sentence she spoke she visualized a physical circle forming around her.

Unknown to her there were more than just the element guardians watching her. Hidden behind the treeline 2 wolves were watching the scene unfold curious about what was happening. “she looks familiar” Jared said through the mind link to Paul. “Nah, doesn’t seem familiar to me. Should we report this to Sam? We don’t know what she’s up to.” Paul responded. “I don’t see harm in the girl, but it might be a good idea to keep an eye on her as long as she’s on that beach.” 

So the two kept watching the girl in silence.

Y/n took a deep breath before lighting the last plain white candle and placed it in front of her and started to focus on opening her mind as she spoke.

“God and Goddess, grant me the power of water to accept with ease and grace what I cannot change. grant me the power of fire for the energy of courage to change the things I can. Grant me the power of air for the ability to know the difference, and grant me the power earth for the strength to continue my path.”

After a moment of meditation with her eyes closed, she could feel how her mind eased with the peace she needed. 

Suddenly a branch snapped behind her, making her eyes shot open. When she looked over her shoulder in the direction the sound came from she was stunned, two large wolves were looking straight at her. One was dark brown and as soon as the animal had noticed her looking back at them he stepped back disappearing behind the treeline. The other was dark silver like and stared deeply back at her without moving, it’s brown eyes looking so human that she started to doubt if what she was seeing was real. It got so intense that she had to look away at some point but the moment she looked back the wolf was gone. y/n shrugged and blew out the candle in front of her, it was time to go. She thanked the guardians and sent them back on their way before blowing out the rest of the candles and packed everything back into her backpack.

--------------- 18+ SMUT

“Oh baby, that’s it” his deep voice moaned, his warm soft hands guided the movement of her hips while she was on top of him. She could feel him pulsing inside of her, she could feel every vein that ran through his hard cock with every move of her hips. She had never felt this good, this complete and safe. His moans only added up to her arousal and made her in turn also moan out loud every time her clit made contact with his pubic bone. “Yes my love let me hear that beautiful voice of yours.” he practically growled before he lifted her off his lap and turned them so y/n was laying on her back with the brown eyed man on top of her looking at her lovingly. 

“I love you, y/n”

Next thing she knew he was thrusting back inside of her while he kissed her passionately.

Her lover held himself up with one hand next to her head while as other hand found it’s place on her clit, rubbing the little bundle of nerves in sync with the movements of his own hips.

Y/n was a moaning mess at the mercy of her lover that brought her closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. But just before she could fall over the edge and have the most earth-shattering orgasm she was sure she would have a voice called out to her.

---------- end smut

“Wake up sleepyhead! The sunlight is here to greet the day!”

Y/n’s eyes shot open while she groaned. It was just a dream, there was no hot brown eyed man that was making her feel good.

“What do you want Kim, it’s way too early” y/n groaned as she saw her usual shy friend standing in the door opening. Y/n wasn’t a morning person especially after a dream like that.

“Oh, you grumpy cat” Kim chuckled, “Come on, we need to leave soon or there won’t be much breakfast left at Emily’s. And the guys are dying to meet you.”

That’s right, she almost forgot. When a week ago Y/n arrived at her friends’ place Kim was so happy to see her that they had spent most of that time together, catching up on everything that had happened since the last time Y/n was here.

Y/n had spent most of her youth here in La Push, growing up as a foster kid in Kim’s family until another family adopted her at the age of 15. Kim had always been more like a sister to her so even after she had left with her adoptive family she had kept in touch with Kim and her parents.

Now after a week full of quality time and their favorite things done it was time to meet Kim’s boyfriend and his friends in real life. She had already heard a lot about Jared, even before the two got together. Kim was so in love with him that sometimes y/n had to butt in if she wanted to say something. But Y/n was happy that her friend had found someone that treated her right. 

“Okay give me a minute to get ready,” Y/n said as she literally rolled out of bed and got up.

Fifteen minutes later y/n was dressed and ready to go. Kim had said that Emily’s place wasn’t that far so they decided to walk the short distance.

“Y/n, I was wondering. So every time you travel or do something important you do that ritual to ask the gods for strength and balance right?” Kim suddenly started knowing about her pagan believes.

“Yeah, why?”

“What if the gods grant your wish? But what if they grant it in the form of a person, like a soulmate?”

Y/n didn’t expect that to be her question because it wasn’t something she had thought of before.

“I don’t know Kim, for me, it’s more something like inner strength. You know. It’s something I want to for myself but hey I’m never turning down a gift from the gods. Especially if that gift is in the form of a hot guy made just for me.” she laughed.

They could hear the laughs of multiple people coming from the little but beautiful house that stood in the middle of an open field surrounded by trees. But the moment the girls started to walk closer to the house the laughing stopped, the sliding door opened and before she knew it Kim was lifted off her feet and spun around in the arms of who she recognized as Kim’s boyfriend Jared.

“Hey, you must be Y/n, Kim has told us a lot about you.” Jared smiled at her once he had placed Kim back onto her own feet, but still kept his arm around her waist.

“Yeah I am, it’s nice to finally meet you. Kim hasn’t shut up about you.” she chuckled making Jared and Kim chuckle too.

“Well come on in, breakfast is served” a sweet voice called out from the small porch.

“Wellcome Y/n I’m Emily”

She thanked her for the invitation before following the small group inside where the kitchen table was already filled with food and a bunch of guys sitting around it.

“Hey, guy!” Kim greeted the guys around the table with a smile before pointing at me.

“This is my sister Y/n, Y/n meet Sam, Jacob, Embry, Quil, Leah, Seth.” Every time Kim said a name a hand shot up with a short “hey” or “hello”. They all seemed like the nice and fun people Kim described them as but wasn’t there supposed to be another guy? If she remembered correctly a guy named Paul was missing from the group but she didn’t press that thought, because soon she was lead to a chair at the table and almost everyone started to fill their plates with food. She had just started to fill her plate too when she heard a voice call out from another room in the house.

“Leave some food for me, you animals!” followed by a warm laugh and footsteps coming closer until a large form filled the door opening on her left. He had broad shoulders, short dark hair, and the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen. He hadn’t noticed her yet so she took the opportunity to really look at him, those eyes seemed familiar, he seemed familiar. She had seen him before. His whole being, even his voice made her heart jump in her chest. Then he turned his head and looked straight at her, it seemed like his eyes lighted up in that same recognition, his smile got wider than it already was. 

“Hey, you must be Y/n. I’m Paul.” He greeted her before he took a seat on the other side of the table right in front of her. 

Then she knew where she knew him from, Paul was the guy from in her dreams. She quickly averted her eyes, afraid he’d notice that she had been staring at him. She quickly looked around her to see if someone had noticed but everyone was having their own conversation, that was until her eyes met those of a smirking Kim. Of course, she had noticed, when Kim winked at her their conversation from earlier sprung in her mind. What if the gods did had granted her wish? Because she was almost sure she had even saw those same eyes a week ago when she was in the middle of her prayer. Could it be that Paul was her gift from the gods, her soulmate?

tags: 

@its-la-push​   @ghostmistwalker​ @bisexualcrazybeans​

[shelby-love]

JAY HALSTEAD

The Freeing Bliss of Adrenaline

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): angsty, happy ending

Author's note: Haven't written for Jay in a while! This will be the last one shot of the year. I've been working on imagines the entire day. Now I'll take some time off since New Year is in less than a hour! p.s. I just added some more spice to Jay’s fight! How’d you like it?

Happy New Near!!!!!

Note: It's important that you guys read my newest Hank Voight one shot to not be confused further into this one. Click here!

~

"Relax babe I'll be fine," You smiled impishly at Jay and leaned against your newest child. The large two-wheeled beauty was the highlight of your day.

But Jay eyed your Yamaha r6 skeptically. He saw a fair number of criminals die from crashing motorcycles less intimidating than the one behind you. He trusted you to be careful, but it didn't help him sleep at night any better than he did before. The damned matte black motorcycle was the cause of his nightmares.

"Just," He sighed. "Be careful."

You chuckled in adoration and kissed him. The two of you were aesthetically pleasing to see. Especially next to your large motorcycle.

"I'll see you at 7?" He nodded in confirmation and helped you with your helmet.

For effect, he slapped the top of it and didn't leave until you were out of his line of vision.

Jay rolled his eyes when you purred the engine for effect.

***

The motorcycle ride through the tunnel was freeing, especially upon exiting it.

Jay didn't understand how freeing the rides you've had felt. You left your worries behind in the dust whenever you roared the engine. You felt like you could do anything.

Your left hand is working the clutch and the turn signal, your right hand is working the front brake, your right foot is working the rear brake, and your left foot is working the gears up & down. The ride was a physical & emotional pleasure, with a layer of anxiety & adrenaline.

For a moment you wanted to close your eyes. To enjoy the feeling of freedom.

But you snapped out of it, just like every time; Jay's words rung in your mind. Be careful.

You were.

But the car that slammed into you wasn't.

***

The members of firehouse 51 arrived on scene in recod time. People were watching on the side next to their cars; the whole road was blocked with cars.

"I didn't know what to do," The officer on scene told Matt. "The motorcycle's crushing her, but I didn't want to do anything until you guys got here."

"Her?" He asked, surprised to hear it. "It's a good thing you didn't move her." That cop did exactly the right thing by not moving the weight off you until they had facility to adequately treat any injuries.

"She looks experienced," The man  sighed with anxiety, looking as if he aged 20 years in a span of 15 minutes. "The motorcycle's a Yamaha r6. Definitely not a beginner's bike."

The smoke that came from the bike was enough to quicken their pace. "All hands-on deck." Matt announced and proceeded to give out orders.

"Otis get the backboard."

"On it."

The rest of the men appeared around you. Severide at the front. It only took him a glance at your custom-made helmet to know that it was you. "Holy shit..."

"What's wrong Severide?" Cruz asked him.

"That's Y/N."

"Who's she?" The team asked him.

"Jay's girlfriend." Severide whispered. "Hey you!"

The cop turned to him, trauma in his eyes. "Call Intelligence."

"Why? This isn't a crime scene."

"That's Jay Halstead's girlfriend on the ground. Get him here now!"

Back where you were, truck was discussing your situation.

"We need to get this bike off her," Gabby said hurriedly.

"81 watch for the hot pipes," The team was working on getting it off you. "This thing's a beast, got to weight 500 lbs." Matt said.

"Okay easy guys," Sylvie had your helmet in her hands. "Possible spinal injury and head trauma."

"Okay let's get this off," All hands were truly on deck as Casey counted down to three. They took your demolished motorcycle and placed it away from you.

"Jay's gonna freak," Severide commented when his eyes fell on your leg. It was completely crushed. Red with blood and completely split in half.

"We need to get the helmet off of her." Sylvie instructed, changing places.

"Alright Mouch."

It was hard for you to decipher the voices because little did they know...

You were conscious under there.

You barely recognized Severide as he barked out commands left and right.

You felt the strap of your custom-made helmet being cut off. The pain that shot through your leg when they secured it had you wincing to the pint your lip started to bleed.

When they took it off it took several seconds for the light to push through to you. You could barely breathe, let alone move your neck to look at the firefighters credited as your lifesavers. Severide cupped the back of your neck and you could only look at him.

"Kelly..." You murmured, tears gathering in your eyes. The times he and Jay had told you to be careful...

You should have listened.

"Y/N don't move. You're okay," He reassured you but you only widened your eyes. "You've been in an accident."

Tears started to fall. "Kelly..."

"No don't speak," He said quietly.

You coughed, "The...other..."

"The other?" He repeated.

"Collision..."

They were losing you. "Hey! Y/N stay with me! What collision?"

A few meters away, Matt and Boden inspected the road and the remains of your bike. "It's dented. Like someone crashed into her."

Kelly's screams brought them back to reality and Matt ran to get you.

He crouched down, his face hovering over you and blocking the sun. "Y/N did someone else crash into you?"

More tears started to fall. "They fell...off."

Boden looked around until he noticed several aggressive lines from tires scattered around the road.

He stepped closer to the edge and looked.

Until he saw.

"This is Battalion Chief 25," He radioed. "We need another ambulance to our location. This was a vehicle collision. I repeat a vehicle collision!"

***

"She still hasn't woken up," Will told his younger brother. "The injuries she sustained were more dangerous than we thought."

"Will what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"There were some complications with the surgery," Will tried to reason calmly. "She started hemorrhaging. They got the bleeding under control, but they had to put her in a medically induced coma. Hey! Jay wait- "

The detective stormed outside. The ringing in his head was getting louder and the voices around him became a distant callout.

Two arms stopped him from raging out.

He pushed and pulled but the man before him didn't move.

Kelly didn't move.

"Jay man, you need to stop!"

He didn't stop. Not even when Sharon Goodwill came to break them apart herself. Jay pushed through and disappeared outside, not daring to enter a car because of what had happened to you.

Kelly and Will found him in a bar eventually.

They took him home, watched over his place as he showered the alcohol off. They helped him in bed, even pulled the covers over him like you used to.

Jay's body was warm under the covers, but deep within he was anything but.

He missed your presence in the bed, your body against his in the shower…

Even your jokes during dinner.

It wasn't the same without you. He wasn't the same.

But no one understood him.

Only you did.

But you were in a coma. Unreachable.

He hugged your pillow on which traces of your perfume still lingered and cried like a baby.

***

The man rushed at Jay, his fist pulled back by a mile to punch him. Jay ducked but the man growled and started swinging punches at him. It came to a point of giving up for the man. Jay was ducking, backing up, sliding to the side; doing all the things needed to slip right through his fingers. He moved quickly, confident in his abilities.

Jay sidestepped before thrusting his fist against the man's face, reeling the man back so he staggered on his feet. A stray of blood fell out of his mouth, but not even that was stopping Jay from doing more damage.

Whatever force had him possessed, it wasn't letting go.

Jay slammed his fist into the man's face like the impact didn't bother him at all. The man smashed into a wall, fell to his knees, and clutched his face and trembled as his head fell forward. Jay placed a foot on the back of his head and slammed his face on the ground without thinking twice. The man groaned but didn't give up.

He twisted his body under the pressure of Jay's boot and grabbed his ankle.

It really didn't take long before Jay had him completely pinned to the ground again. He started throwing punches to his face until there was nothing but blood coating his hands.

He broke his nose, knocked out his teeth and broke his jaw.

Maybe even more.

He couldn't take a better look because he was taken away.

"What the hell is your problem Halstead!?" His sergeant barked.

"He deserved it." Jay mumbled. It really was his only excuse.

"If you're not fit to work," Voight neared his face to Jay's. "I'll take you off the case."

"You can't."

Hank only shook his head, "I can, and I will. Listen… You're a good kid Halstead and I'm sorry for what happened to Y/N but that's not an excuse for what you just did, and you know it."

"Get yourself together." Was the last thing Hank told him before he disappeared.

His girlfriend and the newest member of Intelligence took pity and came to his side. "She's going to be fine, Jay."

"You don't know that" Jay mumbled.

She only smiled sadly, "I've been there."

"You ride motorcycles?"

She shook her head with a roll of her eyes, "No. I was shot while working for the FBI. Hostage situation. I was one of them. A part of the reason why I joined special operations but that's a story for another day."

She leaned against the car with him, "As I was saying... I was badly injured, Jay. The doctors had to put me in a medically induced coma too."

"How'd you get through it?" He asked. She shone in a completely different light to him now.

"The people that mean the most to me were by my side. For me it was family that helped me push through and fight," she sighed, her hands twined together. "You're her anchor Jay. And if you're not being strong for her... Who will she lean onto? Who will help her push through and fight?"

"Doctors believe hearing stories in parents' and siblings' voices exercises the parts of the brain responsible for long-term memories." She recalled what was once told to her.

 "Hey detective! Sergeant Voight is asking for you," A police officer yelled a couple yards away. Voight's girlfriend smiled and Jay could swear that he could see blush taint her cheeks. Jay and you won 20 bucks a few months back thanks to her and her blush.

"Be what your sergeant is to me."

Jay nodded smiling.

Before she was out of his line of vision she turned back and yelled to him, "Maybe take a shower too! I heard that helps!"

He rolled his eyes at her.

***

When he sat at your hospital bed, he didn't know what to say. Every word mattered to him. It's been weeks since the last time you opened your eyes.

And in those weeks a lot of things happened to him.

He hoped that now, after all that had happened, he was good enough of an anchor for you to hold onto.

He grabbed your small hand in his bigger one and kissed the back of it. You looked peaceful. Not your usual bubbly self; the version of yourself that lived for adrenaline and everything life had to offer.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," He started, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I didn't know what to do…"

"I had your bike fixed," He informed quietly. "Although I don't think you'll ever want to sit on one again."

He paused. "But then again… You're batshit crazy."

Jay spent a long time talking to you about a million things. He made up for the times he failed to be there with you.

"Detective Halstead?" A nurse had joined him in the room. "Visiting hours are over."

"Oh," Was all he said. "I guess I should get going?"

She smiled sadly.

With a torturous sigh, he leaned down and kissed you. A tiny piece of his heart broke at the lack of response your once warm, now cold lips gave him. "It's not the same without you."

***

Chicago's cold wisps of air hit him without mercy the moment he stepped out. No one really payed him much mind. Occasional glances from girls that were passing by was something he was used to.

He was searching for his car when a figure jumped in front of him.

"Geez Will," Jay sighed. "The hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," He was beaming like a madman.

"Whatever it is you came here to tell me, just say it." He grumbled.

"Y/N labs came back."

Jay stopped in his tracks and turned to face his brother. For the first time in weeks he had hope shining within his irises.

"And?"

"She pulled through. They'll wake her up tomorrow."

Before another word could leave his mouth, Jay hugged him like his life depended on it.

It did in a way.

He broke down at the parking lot in the arms of his brother having gotten the best news ever.

"Let's get you home bro. You'll see Y/N tomorrow."

Tags: @lorenakaspersen​​ @fofisstilinski​ @short-potato​​ @miranda0102​​  @saracabbage​​

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list (pinned post on my profile)!��

MASTERLIST

[the-bau-quinjet]

You can’t be gone, no

Chapter 13 of In Breakable Heaven! I would like to apologize for how long this took! I was really buys with work this week, but I’ve got the next chapter almost done already so it shouldn’t take too long. 

Summary: A bit of aftermath of the show, plus the show from Spencer’s perspective.

Word Count: ~1900

 Spencer’s POV

“Hey Spence. I miss you, but you already know that. I’m doing a sort of mini show at 7 tonight. It would mean the world to me if you came… Look, I get it. You don’t want to be with me anymore, but I don’t want you to disappear from my life completely. Not when I need you now more than ever… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not trying to guilt you into coming, I just really want you to be there. For the moral support. The rest of the team is coming, so you won’t be alone. That’s it I guess. Bye.”

 He listened to the voicemail on repeat as he made his way to the venue where you were playing your mini show. He had no idea what to expect, but the idea of not supporting you hurt too much to stay home.

 After parking and walking inside, he managed to find the rest of the team. Turning to Morgan, he began to ask “hey, do you-” He was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Turning to look at it, he recognized the number as his Mom’s doctors. “Oh, it’s my mom’s doctors. I have to take this.” He retreated back outside the venue, answering the call on the way.

 It was really a simple call, only took a few minutes, but you had already started when he walked back in. Not wanting to disrupt anything, he took a seat near the back of the venue, shooting Morgan a text that he probably wouldn’t need to go to Vegas.

 “…how I was feeling about a month ago. Before everything happened. It was the happiest I have ever been. I had a great group of friends, a job I loved, a hobby that helped me bring some of that joy to you guys, and… a perfect boyfriend. Most of that is still true and for that I am incredibly grateful. Without further ado, here we go!”

 His heart hurt to know that he was the part that wasn’t true anymore. He immediately recognized the song as it began to play. He memorized all of Taylor Swift’s songs in the months he’s spent with you in your apartment listening to the range of playlists. It’s honestly a good thing he got that call because he started tearing up almost instantly realizing how happy you were when the two of you were together.

 I want to drive away with you. I want your complications too. I want your dreary Mondays, wrap your arms around me Pr-aby boy.

 His breath caught in his throat when he heard the slip up. You used to change the lyrics to all of Taylor’s songs to be about him. “Wrap your arms around me pretty boy” is exactly what you used to sing to him. The range of emotion he was feeling surprised him. He expected this to be painful, but not this much.

  “Thank you! Thank you! This next song is kind of a complete about face. 180 degrees if you will. Actually” you pause to think, “it’s more like 540 degrees.” He watches as you take in the confused glances from the audience, searching the crowd for someone. “I feel like I went through every emotion possible, returned to where I started, and then was forcefully turned in the opposite direction.”

  “Clearly, you can tell why I was so happy a month ago. Paper Rings is kind of obvious in that sense. But, 3 weeks, 4 days, 6 hours, and 27 minutes ago every possible ounce of that happiness disappeared.” He froze knowing that exact amount of time meant your happiness disappeared not when you were abducted and tortured, but after he left your apartment that night.

 “ For those of you who don’t know, I recently went through a fairly traumatic event. My good friends at the FBI saved my life. But after I left the hospital with a new found relief, I went home and my boyfriend, well I guess ex-boyfriend, came over.” He could see the tears forming in your eyes even from his place in the back of the crowd, and it only hurt him more.

“He didn’t tell me why, but he broke up with me that night. He said he didn’t want to do it while I was in the hospital, so he waited. I’ve had a lot of time to think it over, and I might know now why things changed. But even if I’m wrong, he left. And now, he won’t talk to me. Now I know what you’re thinking. This guy sounds like a complete asshat.” He couldn’t help thinking that was a massive understatement.

 “And maybe you’re kind of right. But he’s been through more than I could even explain, and I know that it is slowly killing him to know that I went through barely a tenth of what has happened to him. Especially because I know he blames himself. So, I have this next song. To try and explain how him leaving is worse than anything that happened in that building. ”

 Again, he immediately recognized the next song that began playing. Haunted, especially the acoustic version, was one of the few songs you saved for when you were so sad nothing else helped. He knew how much pain you must be in to even listen to this song, let alone sing it in front of the crowd.

 By the time you reached the bridge, he could already feel the tears streaming down his face.

 I know. I know. I just know, you’re not gone. You can’t be gone, no

 The way your voice sounded like it completely broke when you sang “no” made his heart wrench. He had his head in his hands. He felt completely useless. This kind of pain was the exact thing he was trying to prevent. He didn’t think you would still feel so strongly about him 3 and a half weeks later.

 “I know what you’re thinking. What the hell happened to you? Well, a lot. But that song, the first song, and the last song are all to the same person. The one person in the world who understands me more than anyone else. You should all know, however, the ‘he’ I was referring to when I sung ‘he will try to take away my pain’ is none other than my therapist. Thanks for the all the help Doc, I’m trying to do what you said. The last song I have for you is what I wish I had the chance to say that night 3 weeks, 4 days 6 hours, and 33 minutes ago. It’s something I need you to know.”

 He doesn’t know how, but he knows you are talking to him when you finish the last sentence. He lifts his head to look at you again as he once again recognizes the song. His favorite line in this particular song was always:

 You keep, his shirt. He keeps, his word.

 He knows exactly which promise you are referring to this time. And he knows that he didn’t keep it.

 You can see it with the lights out.

 Before the two of you even started dating, he promised you he would always be there.  No matter the time of day.

 You are in love, true love.

 No matter where he was in the country. No matter what he was doing, he would drop it to help you if you needed him.

 You're in love.

 And he failed. He left when you needed him most. And he had no idea how to fix it.

  “Thank you all so much for coming! We can only hope for and work towards a better future than the present we find ourselves in. Goodnight.”

 You’re right. He is in love. And apparently, so are you. All he knows in this moment is that he has to fix things. He has no idea how, but he has to at least try.

--

Y/N POV

It felt like hours, but it had only been about 15 minutes when you heard a knock on your door. You somehow managed to stop crying and wipe your face before answering the door. You were met with the concerned expressions of almost all of your friends. They rushed in to take turns hugging you with varying degrees of sadness and anger in their voices.

Morgan probably noticed you looking around them all when he said “Reid wanted to come, but something came up with his Mom.” After hearing that, you immediately shifted from your spot on the floor. All you felt now was concern for him. “Is she okay? What happened?” The genuine sincerity in your voice was no surprise to anyone. You have always put everyone else’s feelings above your own.

“He didn’t say what happened, but he said he probably wasn’t flying out so it will be fine.” Morgan responded. The room shifted into silence, not quite awkward, but not comforting either. JJ chose to break it “Why didn’t you tell us what happened? Or even that you were seeing anyone?”

You shifted your gaze to her face from its previous resting place on the floor, you sighed. “I don’t know really. At first, it was because it was like a game between us. We actually had a bet going about which one of you guys would figure it out first. I was actually planning to tell you all at Rossi’s last family dinner, but then with everything that happened it just…” You stopped to force yourself not to cry again. It was killing you that they didn’t know who you were talking about, although they were probably figuring it out as you continued to talk.

“Y/N” you had never heard your name spoken so softly by Morgan before, “what can we do to help? Do you want me to kill him? The team can probably hide his body.” He tried to joke. You managed a weak smile in response.

“No. The truth is I’d rather feel like this in a world with him than be happy in a world without him. I… I was supposed to meet him for dinner that night, but he had to cancel. That’s part of why he blames himself. Or at least I think so. I genuinely haven’t talked to him about it.” Admitting that truth was a lot easier than you expected. You rose from the ground to change the song, knowing exactly which song might help you. Before you could get to your phone though, there was a knock on the door. You signaled for Rossi to answer it since he was standing the closest.

You turned to see Spencer Reid walk into your dressing room. “Hi Y/N” he said in a sad greeting.

“Morgan said you had to talk to your Mom’s doctors, is she okay?” you responded, your concern for your friend’s mom returning.

“Oh, uh yeah she’s fine. They just wanted to switch her medicine again. Thanks for asking.” You nodded in response, not knowing what else to say.

“I think, um, I think I’m just gonna go home now.” You said, staring at the floor to avoid everyone’s sympathetic looks. “I just want to go to bed and hope for the best, ya know?” You began pushing your way through people, your bag on your shoulder.

Spencer grabbed your wrist as you passed him, giving you a pleading look. The tears began to fall again as you looked at him, gently pulling your arm away. You couldn’t do this here. Not in front of everyone. Not when you hadn’t even told them it was Spencer who left you near catatonic staring at your apartment door. You turned and ran to your car before they could stop you.

--

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[cheesyficwriter]

idk if you have, but i would love to read prompt #1 from list 5 <33 thankssss ily

Hey there anon! Thanks for the lovely first kiss request 💜 hope you enjoy this take!

Prompt #1 - “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Making It Count

Kissing someone for the first time is always exciting and nerve-wracking. It’s an intimate act that you should only share with someone else once you are absolutely ready. 

15-year old Hermione Granger touched her lips instinctively. She had yet to experience a true kiss like the ones she read in books or seen in movies. Of course, she was a realistic person and was vastly aware that life wasn't as perfect as those depictions often perceived. Real life kisses were probably awkward, especially for first-timers, and especially if it was with the wrong person. 

There was Viktor Krum last year. He had pecked her once lightly on the lips just after the Yule Ball. It was hardly a kiss, not in the way that truly counted anyway. She refused to let that particular encounter be deemed as her first, real kiss. 

If you're unsure what to do, the best advice is to set up the scene. Pick a time and a private location. Ideally, you will probably want to be alone with the person you want to kiss. 

It was a Tuesday night. Nothing particularly special about the date or time, but it was the location that peaked her interest. She was on prefect rounds, often ducking her head into secluded classrooms to check for students out past curfew. The corridors were quiet and bare. 

Make sure that the other person you're with feels comfortable with being alone with you. 

She walked side by side with Ron Weasley, her best friend of many years. They were alone together quite often this year after being chosen as prefects for Gryffindor. At first it was slightly odd, being alone so much with Ron. Before, they were hardly together at a time when Harry wasn't. They were a trio. A pack that moved together. Always. 

As her arm brushed naturally against Ron's arm, both clad in black robes, she felt the spark that trickled through her body. A sensation she experienced on a regular basis nowadays. They were together for rounds several days a week. When they began their duties at the start of term, they practically walked as far away as they could from one another, each claiming a wall on opposite sides of the corridor. With each passing day, that distance disappeared. She hoped she wasn't imagining it all. 

Flirt with them to set the mood. Make sure you're smiling, leaning in, and keeping your body facing the other person to show your interest. 

"So...tell me about how the Chudley Cannons are doing this year."

Ron almost stopped mid-stride to gawk at her. He tilted his head sideways and peered down at her curiously. "Since when are you interested in Quidditch?" 

Hermione jerked her head upwards slightly, but kept her eyes focused on his azure ones sparkling back at her. 

"I've always been interested in Quidditch, Ron."

Ron made a sound that was a half-snort and half-chuckle. "Yeah, sure…" He kept walking briskly and Hermione's short legs were struggling to keep up. Merlin, he moved fast. 

She was just about to ask another question when he must have decided to answer her after all. 

"Well, they're still living by their team motto, I suppose. Let's all just cross our fingers and hope for the best." He grinned and laughed to himself, "If Gudgeon could get his head out of his arse and actually catch the damn snitch for once, maybe they'd win a match…" 

Hermione hadn't the slightest clue who Gudgeon was, but she did her best to politely nod along and show that she was listening intently. 

It wasn't until Ron had paused again, in the middle of the corridor, that she realized she may have been trying to listen a little too well. Ron was now looking at her like she had grown two heads. 

A slow grin curved onto his face. "What is up with you tonight?" 

Hermione tried desperately to hide the flush of pink that crept up onto her cheeks. 

If they're looking back into your eyes, smiling and laughing, it is likely that they are also interested. 

He was still grinning at her brilliantly, his eyes lit up in amusement. All signs suggested that he was in a flirtatious mood, given the way his feet were now pointed directly at her and how he was standing so close to her that she could reach out and touch the freckles on his cheek. 

Behind Ron's mass of flaming hair she spotted an empty classroom. Biting her lip, she grabbed his hand and guided him into the classroom before she lost all of her courage. 

She turned swiftly back around to face him, squealing when her face almost collided straight into Ron's chest. Apparently he was following behind her much closer than she had anticipated. His hands gripped her shoulders to keep her from falling over. 

Lightly touch them on their arm and hold their gaze.

Hermione latched onto Ron's arm to steady herself. "So you were saying, about the Seeker…"

A line appeared between Ron’s brows. "Are we still talking about this?"

"Only if you want to…" She was positive that her cheeks had reddened to a similar shade as his hair. 

He gave her a once-over; his eyes fell down to the hand she still had positioned firmly on his arm. When he glanced back up at her, she noticed that his ears had turned pink and his pupils were dilated. He appeared to inhale sharply as his lips parted.

"Well," Hermione gulped, suddenly aware of the growing perspiration on her palms, "what do you want to talk about?" 

“I...don’t know if I want to talk anymore.” 

His confession elicited the tiniest of sounds from the back of her throat. He was studying her reaction closely, holding her gaze with determined eyes, leaving her so dazed that she forgot what she was even going to suggest next. 

“Me either," she finally admitted in a breathy whisper. 

Hermione braced herself from the inevitable. This is the part where everything becomes awkward and confusing. This is the part where Ron will step back, flush, and exit the room as quickly as possible. They would pretend that the moment never happened. 

Except...

“Can I…" His voice was scratchy, and he had tilted his head, a clear question in his eyes. 

It was then that Hermione became certain that he didn't want to step back. And neither did she. 

His gaze flickered from her eyes and down to her lips. She parted them instinctively, her labored breath now giving away her anticipation. Did she put on lip balm this morning? She couldn't remember, and only hoped that her lips weren't chapped from the dryness. 

“...kiss you?” She finished the thought for him, and his eyes flashed with a different emotion. Perhaps it was desire? 

Hermione didn't have time to dwell, for Ron was already leaning forward, eyes closed. She remembered one more piece of advice. 

Make sure to tilt your head in the opposite direction to avoid bumping noses. 

She did as instructed, letting her lashes flutter closed, inhaling Ron's faint scent of peppermint and chocolate as he drew closer. It made her wonder what kind of pudding he had for dessert in the Great Hall that day…

His lips brushed hers so lightly that they felt almost like a feather tickling one of the softest parts of her face. It was brief, quick, no more than a peck. Hermione let out a surprise gurgle as he pushed back unexpectedly, breathing heavily. 

"Wh-what?" She opened her eyes, crinkling her eyebrows.

"Just...just give me a minute…" Ron placed his hands on his hips and jerked out of her embrace, deciding instead to pace the length of the room. 

Hermione watched him, wide-eyed, blindly confused as to what just happened. Her happiness faltered. Could he be regretting the kiss? It was barely a kiss anyway, and she was definitely not going to let that one be the one that counts as her first experience. 

"Ron…" She called out softly, biting her bottom lip. "Do you - do you even want to kiss me? It's okay if you don't-"

"Bloody hell." He marched back over to her and stood directly in front of her, feet yet again facing forward. "You're driving me absolutely mental, you know that? One minute you're talking Quidditch stats, and another minute you're dragging me in here, doing everything imaginable to distract me and…" 

His breath hitched in his throat and he was now looking at her like a puzzle he was trying to so desperately solve. In fact, she recognized the look on his face. It was one that she often saw him wearing in the common room, out by the lake, walking the corridors during prefect rounds...and every time he was looking at her. Every. Single. Time.

"Yes. Yes I do," he definitively answered. His knuckles were white as he clenched them tightly to his sides. He stood up so straight that he seemed even taller than she had ever noticed before. 

Hermione wasn't nervous anymore. She held out her hands for him to grab and then tugged him forward, resuming their earlier closeness. "Then let's try again, shall we? I think we can do better than that first one."

She initiated this time, standing up on the balls of her feet to reach his face. She intertwined her hands around his neck to tilt his head downward, his hair falling into his eyes. Her heart beat faster and faster as she puckered her lips up towards Ron’s. With a final inhale, their lips meshed together once again, this time lingering long enough to feel each other’s warmth and taste of their skin. His lips were soft, so soft. Tentatively, Hermione parted her lips and allowed herself to sigh deeply into his mouth, taking an unconscious step forward so that there was no physical space left between their bodies. She barely registered Ron’s hand as it trailed up her shoulder, gently pushing her hair back over her shoulders, before entangling his fingers into her hair. 

It was...exactly how she imagined her first kiss, yet it wasn’t. It was more. It was Ron. 

When they finally pulled back a second time, their lips just mere centimeters apart, Ron quietly asked, “Have you-have you ever kissed someone before?”

Hermione didn’t hesitate to answer. “Not in any way that counted...until now.”

Follow up with the person you kissed the next day. Show them that you are interested if you want more. 

Hermione wasn’t quite sure what to expect the next morning, as she hovered by the portrait hole, chewing nervously on her nails as she waited for Ron to emerge from his dormitory. 

She was so lost in thought, drifting in and out of awareness, that she entirely missed his arrival. 

It wasn’t until she felt the warmth of Ron’s hand as he intertwined his fingers with her own that she was transported back to reality. 

Judging by the shy smile on Ron’s face, reality was looking pretty good. 

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Without You

Request: “could you write something about Luke falling in love with his childhood best friend please 🥺”

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @saintd0lce , @ogmilkis, @reidswords , @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave ,  @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1​ , @sskhair

Word count: 11.3k

Warnings: PTSD, blood mention, gsw mention, smut

A/N: Wow, I really took this request and ran with it.  I really didn’t need to write an 11k fic but here we are!!!! 

You’re 8 years old and have never felt so happy before.

You’re riding your bike through the fields with Luke right beside you, the setting sun creating a thousands shades of orange, pink and purple in the sky up above.  And you’re going faster, faster, faster until your legs burn.

As you return to your house to eat ice cream, pistachio for you and chocolate for Luke, you think to yourself that you’re so glad the boy moved here.  You can’t imagine happiness without him. 

He came to your school at the beginning of the year.  At first he didn’t say much.  He was quiet and shy and always staring down at his shoes.  You stick up for him in the classroom when the mean boys start picking on him for the color of his skin, and again in the cafeteria when the bullies make jokes about the strange lunch his mom packed him.

“Thanks,” he had told you quietly, his gaze not meeting yours.

Luke has this big smile that makes your tummy feel all funny, and a pair of big, mocha eyes, so beautiful that you think you have a new favorite color. 

You always hang out at each other’s houses after school, and you spend your weekends playing soccer, or running through the woods near your neighborhood.  

Your first summer is amazing, and your cheeks hurt for the most of it, because Luke makes you smile so much.  He’s just so endearing and funny, and he always has the best jokes.

Your dad has a week off from work at the beginning of July, and he spends it building you and Luke a treehouse just over the hill in your backyard.  Hammers and nails are off limits, he says, but you and Luke help by lugging pieces of wood from the pile near the garage up to the tree line.  

After sticking an assortment of glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, you decide that this tree house is the greatest creation to ever exist.  You spend hours hiding away in the tiny space, existing in your own little world that summer, one consisting of nothing but good things and each other. 

An owl hoots in the distance on the first night you and Luke decide to spend the night in the treehouse, making you jump.  He squeezes your hand in the darkness, scooting his sleeping bag closer to yours. 

“It’s okay,” he assures you, “I’ll protect you.”

... 

Luke just turned 13 years old and he jumps out of his bedroom window to walk the few streets separating him from you at nightfall.

You help him through your own window, whispering words of comfort as he wipes his wet cheeks.

“Are they arguing again?” You ask softly.

Luke nods, closing his eyes, wishing he could undo all of the fighting going on at his house lately.

You hug him tightly, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you squeeze around his middle.  After a few moments, you retreat to your bed, pulling back the covers for him.

You lay facing each other, you wiping Luke’s tears each time they escape his beautiful eyes, Luke gripping onto your shirt like his life depends on it.

... 

When you turn 15, you have your first kiss.  It’s with a boy from your class named Ben and you’re too excited to wait until school the next morning to tell Luke, so you send him a text.  

It goes unanswered.  

You see Luke the next day at his locker, pulling out a chemistry textbook. 

“Did something happen to your phone?” you ask as you approach him. 

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. He doesn’t even look at you. 

You frown.  “Well did you get my text?”

“Yep,” he says in the same fashion. 

You obviously sense something is off, so you abandon your exciting news and instead ask, “Do you want to talk?”

Luke slams his locker, more forcibly than necessary, and finally meets your eyes.  “Why don’t you talk with Ben?” he asks, before brushing by your shoulder and disappearing down the hall. 

You stand, stunned, by his locker when the morning bell rings loudly.  A sea of students hurry out of their homeroom classes, when a group of girls pass by you, one muttering, “Slut,” so only you can hear. 

“What?” your head turns sharply in their direction. 

“She called you a slut,” another says loud and clearly, before they all giggle in unison and stock off. 

Before you’re even able to process the comment, a couple of boys approach you. 

“Hey, if I’d known you put out that easy, I would’ve hit you up a long time ago!” 

“Yeah, can I get in on the action Ben’s getting?” 

Your head is spinning wildly but you quietly mutter, “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Ben told us what happened with you two last night!” 

With a dry mouth you sputter, “We j- we just kissed,” but you already have a feeling that’s not what Ben told the entire school.  

You look around, noticing an unusual amount of people staring at you as they walk by, all sneering or laughing or whispering.  

“Would you open your legs for me too, Y/N?”

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot and your chest starts to tighten.  The comments and slurs get thrown your way with ease, each one tearing your heart deeper and deeper.  Your eyes burn hot with tears, now sliding down your cheeks, wet with embarrassment and humiliation. 

You take a few slow steps backwards, away from the boys taunting you, before you turn on your heels and rush to the staircase, keeping in mind that the bathroom on the second floor was always less busy than the one by the office.  You push your way up through a crowd of students, not bothering to apologize or say excuse me. If you opened your mouth, you knew you’d only sob. 

When you finally push your way through the bathroom door, you sigh a shaky breath of relief to see it’s unoccupied.  You waste no time in flinging yourself into the last stall before you shut and lock the door with your shaking hands. 

You back up until you feel the cool wall behind you.  Slowly, you let yourself slide to the floor, your knees pulled tightly into your chest, and you cry.  You stay like that, even after the warning bell for first period rings, even after the late bell rings.  You don’t care.  You’d make a home in this bathroom if you had to.  If that meant you never had to face all those people calling you names again.  

You’re not sure how much time passes, but eventually your muffled cries are interrupted by a soft knock on the outside bathroom door.  You hold your breath. 

You hear it push open, and then Luke’s voice calls your name.  

You don’t respond. 

“I know you’re in here,” he says.  “I can see your shoes.”

You’re too embarrassed to face him, so you still don’t respond. 

“C’mon,” he pleads, knocking on your stall door now.  “Open up or I’ll just crawl underneath.”

He waits a few moments before he sighs, “Okay then.” 

You see him drop to his stomach from the gap under the stall and crawl through the space, inching forward until he is inside with you. When he looks up, his eyes immediately soften upon seeing the tears streaming down your face.  

“C’mere,” he mutters.  He moves so that he’s also sitting back against the wall and stretches his arm so that it’s wrapping around your shoulders.  You willingly scoot into his embrace, laying your head on his shoulder and letting yourself cry more.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just lets you ruin the fabric of his t-shirt as your tears soak through it.  

Eventually, you sniffle and wonder, “Why’re you here?”

“You weren’t in first period, and I got worried,” he states simply. 

“Did you hear those things they’re saying about me?”

“Mhm,” he hums. 

“They’re not true.”

“I know.”

“My first kiss sucked,” you pout. You wish you’d waited for someone better.  For someone you loved and trusted. What would it be like? You wondered just then, to kiss Luke.  Your cheeks feel hot at the thought. 

He rubs your shoulder soothingly, stirring you out of your own head.  Eventually he says, “Ben’s way bigger than me, but I can try to fight him or something- if you want me to.”

You let out a small chuckle.  

“Yeah, I mean I’ll definitely get flattened, but I would do it-”

That gets you laughing even harder. 

“Thanks, Luke,” you mumble into his chest. 

…

You’re 17 and drunk the very first time Luke kisses you.

You’re at a playground, sitting on the swings, half a bottle of wine sitting precariously between you both. It’s the early hours of the new year, and you can taste fireworks on your tongue. You know it’s cold outside, can hear the wind whistling over the buzzing in your ears, can see Luke’s breath dance across his lips. You can’t feel it though. Between the alcohol and Luke - mainly Luke - you feel warm, like your belly is a heater, warming you from the inside out, skin prickling with electricity. 

You’ve thought about this before. Maybe it was the early sun trickling in, highlighting Luke’s dark complexion just right, but you looked at his wild hair and eyelashes curved against his cheeks, and you knew you had never, and would never, see anyone more beautiful. 

That was the morning you realized that you were in love with your best friend. You didn’t cope well, and if you were being honest, you still don’t. You’ve become good at compartmentalizing though - and lying, and pretending, and telling yourself it can not, and will not ever be.

Except you never factored in this- never factored in too much alcohol, and Luke’s mouth, and Luke’s hands, neck, and tongue. The first few minutes of New Year’s you think, feel, taste and breathe Luke, and you allow it.

You didn’t even want to leave the party. But, Luke had pleaded, flashed you a stolen wine bottle tucked under his coat, and you couldn’t say no. You can never say no to Luke, and that’s the problem. You’re supposed to be strong, but Luke is your kryptonite. Sometimes that scares you so much that you want to run away, so far away, but you can never get far. That’s the other problem. The last thing you ever wanted to do was rely on someone to breathe, and without meaning to that’s exactly what you’ve done with Luke.

Luke’s lips are suddenly against yours.  His fingers are burning embers against your cheek. You would never admit that all you want to do is bring him home, hide under the warm blankets, and kiss Luke until your mouths are raw, until you swear that your breaths are one.

“Y/N,” Luke murmurs into your mouth, and you kiss the words away.

You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing, whether it’s been minutes or an hour, but you’re breathing heavier than you ever had 

For a moment you feel like you might be dreaming, reality hitting as harsh as the wind outside.

“Hey,” Luke says, softly pulling away. 

You blink, once, twice, eyes dark. “Hi.”

Luke leans forward, and brushes a kiss above your eyebrow, allowing it to linger no more than a second. “Happy New Year.”

Luke and you hold hands all the way back to the party, his body is warm and solid against your side.

You wake up the next day with a funny feeling in your stomach, but when you get a text from Luke asking how you are, you lie and say everything’s fine.

Promise we won’t be awkward about this?  Luke asks.

About what?

Don’t.

Nonsense, it made us better friends.

PROMISE you won’t be awkward about this?

You get up, go to the bathroom, then make a cup of coffee before replying back with a simple, ‘promise’. You’re definitely going to be awkward.

The next day, while eating a bowl of cereal and watching television with your parents, you receive another text from Luke asking if you want to get food. You say you have a late family dinner. It’s clearly a lie, just like Luke knows it’s a lie because he doesn’t text back at all. By the third day, when you reject Luke’s invitation to come over with an excuse of having to babysit, you’re filled with guilt.

This time, Luke replies, Y/N, you promised.

It’s not awkward.

Luke doesn't answer, and on the fourth day he doesn't try at all. 

New Year’s is not brought up again.

…

When you turn 18, you decide to go to a college that’s two hours away.

Luke is already enrolled in a local university, he’d started classes the week prior. But today was the day that you were officially moving.

You say your goodbyes in your room, because you’re going to leave in a few minutes now, and you really don’t know when you’ll see each other again.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry..”

Luke hates this, he hates that you’re going to be so far away, he hates that it’s making you so sad, he hates seeing you cry.

You share an embrace for the tenth time that day, and neither of you want to let go. 

“I could always just drop out and come live under your bed,” he suggests with a smirk, “I’m sure your roommate wouldn’t mind.”

You think that he’s probably kidding, he has to be, but all you can think to do is laugh, nervously, and say, “Oh, god.”

“You know I’d follow you anywhere,” Luke drawls, gushingly. Then, suddenly, he wraps his arms around you again, this time tackling you onto your mattress playfully.  You both land on your sides, and when you open your eyes, you realize Luke’s close enough so that you can feel his eyelashes fluttering.  

You laugh, and attempt not to focus on Luke’s breath against your chin, warm and sweet. “As lovely of a trophy wife you’d be, you know you have to go to school.”

Luke sneaks his hand under your shirt, and grabs a hold of your bare waist, tickling. “Trophy wife, huh?” he teases. 

You squeal, flailing as you try to knock Luke’s hand away. 

Once you’ve finally calmed down enough to stop flailing, you sink back onto your side, eyes flicking over Luke’s complexion. You realize your faces are inches away again, and Luke is very blatantly staring at your mouth.

You’ve been wanting to kiss Luke again. You’ve never said it - you haven’t even talked about New Year’s, but you thought about it. You can feel yourself become weaker and weaker though, and you know it’s only a matter of time before Luke breaks you completely.  You can’t have that.

You think that as horrible as it will be to leave, maybe a break is exactly what you and Luke need right now; before you do something stupid, something irreversible, something you won’t be able to ignore quite so easily.

You don’t want to ruin what you two have. You cannot lose Luke.

You blow a puff of air into Luke’s face, as if that itself will blow away the tension building up between you. You sit up, feeling Luke’s eyes on you, you’re not sure how much longer you can do this when you hear your mom’s voice calling up the stairs, saying you’re going to be late.

...

When Luke’s 21, he gets a new girlfriend named Kate and stops visiting you at university so often.  

When Luke introduces you two during winter break, you’re able to identify that weird feeling in the pit of your stomach as jealousy. 

Even though you smile and shake her hand, you can tell through a gaze that doesn’t quite meet yours, that she already doesn’t like you.  But boy does she really like Luke. 

The two are inseparable the entire month that you’re home, and she’s always hanging off his arm or touching him around you.  At first, the three of you spend time together, never just you and Luke.  Anytime you invite him anywhere, he brings her along.  

You find it particularly irritating when he brings her to the late showing of a movie you’d both been looking forward to all semester, and instead of paying attention, the two of them spend half the film attached at the lips or whispering in each other’s ears. 

After that night, you see Luke less and less.  And eventually, he stops returning your calls altogether.  

Before you know it, you’re off for another semester at school without so much as a ‘goodbye’ text from your best friend. 

It’s your busiest semester yet, so you spend a lot of time shoved between a textbook or working tirelessly on your computer.  No matter how engaged you were in your school work, the distance between you and Luke still plagued your mind. 

You missed Luke’s company, missed the way he made you laugh.  You missed his attention, his hugs.  Everything.  And you found yourself wishing you could be the one occupying all his time.  

You find yourself shooting him a text every now and then, wishing him well or asking what he was up to.  You’re never met by more than one or two word responses, and it just doesn’t sit well with you.

Until one day, you check your phone after a lecture to find three missed calls and almost half a dozen texts from Luke. 

You hurry to open them.  

Hey, can you please answer?

Seriously, I really need to talk.

Can I drive up today?

I know it’s late notice, but please?

Screw it. I’m heading out now, see you in a few hours.

When Luke knocks on your dorm room door, you open it to see him standing before you with the deepest purple bags you’d ever seen underneath his eyes. 

His hair was a disheveled mess, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.  But he’s there.  And it’s been so long since you’ve seen him or heard his voice.  Without much thought, you rush over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head on his chest. 

It takes him a moment to reciprocate the hug, but once he does, it’s tight and secure and all so familiar. You stomach flutters when you realize that this is how things should be between you and Luke.  Comforting and close. 

You hear him sniffle from above you. “What’s wrong?” you immediately ask, stepping aside as a gesture for him to enter. 

He takes the hint and strides past you, letting out a breathy sigh before sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“Kate and I broke up,” he states.  “She cheated on me.” 

He buries his face in his hands and shakes his head. 

“I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“Oh Luke,” you say sympathetically.  You join him on your bed and put a hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. “I’m so sorry.”

“And can you believe that she accused me of cheating on her with you? She was constantly telling me I couldn’t see you because she was jealous- and the whole time it was her- cheating on me!”

Your face twists into one filled with surprise.

“What?” you say.  “Is that why you’ve been so distant?”

“I was trying to do the right thing- trying to make her happy.”

You nod, understanding his predicament.  

“That was so shitty of me,” he admits, “I’ll never do that again- put someone above you.  You’ve always been there for me.  I’m sorry. I just- God, I was so damn depressed when you left.  I know I never told you that, but like- I missed you.  A lot. And I graduate soon and I have no clue what I’m going to do afterwards. It’s scary and- I just- I needed a distraction.  Kate was a good distraction.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, telling him that you forgive him.  

“You deserve someone who’s going to treat you so much better than that,” you tell him, your gut twisting.    

“Like who?” he asks, looking up at you. 

Your mouth feels dry and for a moment, you contemplate just telling Luke what you’re thinking, someone like me.  But you don’t.  Instead you smile softly, “Someone great.”

A look (was that disappointment?) crosses his face, before he sighs.  “I think I’ll just settle for wallowing in my own sorrow for a bit.”

Wallowing in sorrow looks like binge watching docuseries and consuming an absurd amount of popcorn for Luke.  And that’s exactly what you and him do for the next two days that he spends with you in your dorm room. 

You laugh and talk about things you’ve been deprived of for the last few months.  The stress of university melts away, because Luke’s here, and that’s all that really matters. You finally have your best friend back. 

…

When Luke turns 23, he makes the world around you shatter into a million pieces. 

“Th-the army?” you ask, your eyes immediately glistening with tears. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know- I mean, you’re doing so well, you’re starting grad school in the fall, you know what you're going to do with your life.  But I don’t.  I can’t keep working these meaningless jobs, I gotta figure something out.  And my dad served.  He said it helped straighten him out.”

“You don’t need to be ‘straightened out’,” you argue.  “You just need to find what you’re passionate about- I’ll help you research ideas, we can do job shadows-”

“I already signed up,” Luke blurts out.  He’s fiddling with a hangnail on his thumb, his gaze refusing to meet yours.  “I leave for training camp on Monday.” 

You shake your head, while simultaneously backing out of his room. 

“Y/N-” he pleads, he reaches out to grab your wrist, but you yank your arm away. 

“No,” you snap.  “If you wanted my approval, y-you don’t have it.”

“C’mon,” Luke’s head falls to the side as he sighs loudly.  

“I can’t believe you’d sign up without telling me.  What if you get hurt?  What if you get killed?”

“I’m not going to get killed-”

“You don’t know that!” By now there’s a steady influx of tears streaming down your face.  “I’m not gonna sit by and just tell you I’m okay with this, cause I’m not.”

“Y/N, please-” Luke whispers.  “I can’t do this if you’re mad at me.”

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand and sniffle. “Good, then don’t.”  

With that, you storm out of Luke’s room without looking back. 

You spend the rest of the day crying.  The idea of Luke being so far away was terrifying.  You didn’t know how to do this- life- without him.  

On Friday night, just two days before Luke would leave for training camp, you sat on the floor of your bedroom flipping through an old photo album your father had gotten you one Christmas.  It was stacked full of pictures from your childhood.  You weren’t surprised to see that most of them contained Luke.  The two of you had been inseparable for such a long time.  

There was one photo, in particular, that caught your attention.  You took it out of the sleeve and ran your thumb over it.  It was a picture of you and Luke, you were maybe 9 or 10.  It was the first summer he had invited you to his family’s lake house for the week, something that had later become one of your many traditions.  

The two of you were standing on the dock that outstretched into the lake.  Luke was only slightly taller than you by then- as you stood, hand in hand, facing the camera with wide, cheery grins on your faces.    

“Are you sure you won’t get annoyed with me if I’m here the whole week?” you had asked him only moments earlier. 

He looked at you, puzzled, like the idea was so preposterous he couldn’t even fathom it. “Of course not, you’re my best friend.”

“Really?” 

He nodded, his grin stretched so wide across his face that it made your eyes crinkle.  

“You’re my best friend too,” you had told him. 

That’s when his mom had come out onto the deck and called to the two of you.  “Smile!” she instructed, snapping the pic.  “Adorable! I hope you two get married one day.”

You don’t even realize you’re crying until a tear lands directly on top of the photo, and you’re forced to think about when the hell things ever got so complicated.  How did you go from the two best friends in this photo, whose biggest fears were the dark and snakes and whether or not you’d annoy each other after a week, to this? How do you tell your best friend you don’t want him to join the Army because you can’t bear the idea of being so far away from him?  How do you tell him it’s because you love him?  

You couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment where things went so astray.  It was like a gradual incline up a mountain, that you didn’t even notice you were climbing until you were standing at the wide open summit, looking out into the vast unknown.  This was you and Luke’s peak, and you could either calmly descend on a trail, or tumble over the cliff entirely. You couldn’t believe that the little boy in that photo, who was missing his two front teeth and hadn’t quite grown into his nose yet, was about to join the Army.  

But the real shock came when your eyes trailed to the little girl beside him.  She’s wearing her pineapple two piece bathing suit and her hand is squeezing his so tightly, like her life depended on his touch… which it probably did.  You thought about how angry she would be at you if you didn’t say a proper goodbye to her best friend.  

You slip the photo back into its protective sleeve and rush to grab your keys. 

Luke’s dad smiles wide when he sees it’s you ringing the doorbell at dinner time.  

“Hi, Mr. Alvez,” you say.  

“Hello!” he greets, not even hesitating before wrapping you in his big arms.  The Alvez family loved to hug. “Are you joining us for dinner?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m sorry to interrupt.  Is Luke home?”

“Yes, yes, one moment.” He turns around to call his son.  

You hear Luke’s heavy tread come closer.  When he reaches the door, you offer him a pathetic smile- a peace offering.  Luke gives you a half smile back. 

“Thanks dad,” he says.  His father offers you a wave before he heads back into the house.  Rather than inviting you in, Luke steps outside and shuts the door behind him. 

“Hi,” you say weakly, when you finally have privacy. 

“Hi,” he replies. 

On the way over, you had prepared an entire speech to win Luke over.  You had enough time to rehearse it twice in the time it took to travel between your apartment and his house.  But now, standing in front of him, your mind went blank.  All you could think about was how much you loved the boy standing in front of you, and how painful it was that you had to bury that feeling, and say goodbye instead. 

Finally, amidst the awkward silence, you whisper, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Luke crosses his arms and huffs, his biceps flexing as he shrugs. “Yeah, I know. You made that clear.”

“But I’m really proud of you,” you finish. 

Luke’s folded arms fall to his sides.  “You are?”

You sigh.  “Of course I am, Luke.  I mean- I wish you were staying.  And I’m going to be worried about you, probably non-stop until I see you again.  But I’m proud of you.”

Luke’s face softens. 

“Thanks,” he whispers. “I was really scared I was going to leave with you still mad at me.”

You smile sadly back at him, then.  “I was never mad at you.  Just selfishly wished you would find your life’s purpose here at home.”

After a moment of silence, you ask, “Can we just spend some time together before you leave? Like we used to?”

Luke flashes his white teeth in his signature grin that reaches his eyes, “I’d love that.”

It’s eight thirty at night, and Luke is already drunk.  

You’d stopped at a nearby gas station and Luke spent $17 on cheap wine and a couple of bags of candy.  

“Who knows when I’ll get this again?” he says while throwing a Swedish fish into his mouth in the passenger seat of your car. 

When you pass by the highway (which would lead you back to your apartment) Luke turns, throwing you a confused look.  “Where are we going?” he asks. 

You grip the steering wheel and shrug.  “It’s a surprise.”

“Oh my god!” Luke exclaims when you pull into the driveway of your childhood home.  “Y/N, I’m trashed- I can’t- I can’t see your parents like this!”

You shake your head and turn off the ignition.  “They’re not home.  Plus, we’re not going in the house.”

Luke follows you clumsily as you both make your way into the backyard and towards the fire pit, but you don’t stop.  Instead, you make your way up to the tree-line, to the familiar oak that held so many of your childhood memories. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to climb the ladder, Drunky?” you asked him teasingly.  

Luke snickered.  “Are you kidding? I could climb this thing in my sleep.”

He’s speaking, of course, to the familiarity of the treehouse.  You two had spent so much of your childhood in it, hidden away from all your worries of the world.  You hid from school bullies and math tests and fights between your parents. It was your sanctuary, your own personal solace. 

When you peak your head into the old wooden room, you’re surprised to see how much smaller it looks. Luke actually has to duck his head to fit inside, but once you’re sitting, it’s cozy.  The two of you pass the bottle of Chardonnay back and forth as you sit on an assortment of duvets and comforters that softened the wood paneling. 

“Do you still remember that…um, that guy- that blonde guy,” Luke clicks his tongue as he tries to remember,  “What was his name? Charlie?” Luke slurs, he’s now very drunk. 

You answer with a hum and glazed gaze and Luke quirks a smile before draping an arm around your shoulder.  

“I heard...” Luke drawls, giggling a bit as he squeezes your arm, “He got…married. Like, a year ago.” He laughs again. “God, didn’t you have like…the biggest crush on him once upon a time?”

“I was ten, Luke. Let it go,” you say.

Luke hiccups and nuzzles your neck. “I remember you tellin’ me he smelled like sunshine.” He giggles and snorts and giggles some more. “Sunshine. Like god- what does that even smell like? You were a creepy ten-year-old.”

“And you’re drunk as shit,” you answer.

Luke chuckles and lifts his hand off from your shoulder.  You’re surprised by how cold you feel without it there.  He slides onto the floor then, so that he’s laying flat on his back.  

“I was always so jealous of Charlie.” he whispers.

Something twists inside your stomach.  It’s just the alcohol, you tell yourself. You lay so that you’re next to Luke and lean your head against his shoulder, gazing at his soft features. 

Luke instinctively reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together. 

“The stars-” he notes, staring up.  “The stars are still here.”

You turn to look up at the ceiling and see that he’s right.  The glow in the dark stars you’d stuck on the ceiling remained.   

Two minutes later, Luke’s snoring. You sigh, more fond than anything.

“Sunshine…hm…” Luke mumbles in his sleep a few minutes later. His grip on your hand tightens. “You smell…like sunshine, Y/N.”

You smile.

Charlie did smell like sunshine. His sunny composition and presence always seemed to be able to light up the room whenever he was around. It’s one of the main reasons ten-year-old you had a crush on him in the first place. But the crush lasted no longer than a month. 

You cozy up against Luke’s chest, listening to the soft ticking of his heartbeat underneath his t-shirt.  

He smells like cheap wine and tangerine shampoo.

But above all, Luke smells like sunshine.

…

You’re 24 and waiting anxiously at the airport with Luke’s mom and dad.  You feel silly holding up the flimsy cardboard sign with bubble letters spelling ‘Alvez’, but you know it’ll make Luke smile- so that was all that mattered.

You hadn’t seen Luke in 4 months, which felt like an entire lifetime.  Your stomach had felt butterflies during the past week and a half, as you anxiously awaited his return.  But now, there was a full on swarm in your abdomen.  

You’re bouncing on your tippy toes when the plane lands, trying to see above the crowd of people that are coming off the plane. 

There’s a man in the distance wearing an army uniform, that you can only assume is Luke, except it doesn’t really look like Luke at all.  This man is taller and his shoulders are broad and muscular.  But as he looks around the airport and spots the neon sign, beckoning him, his eyes finally lock with yours.  There’s no mistaking those mocha orbs.  You barely can feel your own legs as you drop the sign and rush over towards him.  Luke barely has time to set his bags down before you’re launching yourself into his arms, your legs leaving the ground to wind around his waist.  

“Hi,” you say, feeling stupid that you were about to cry. You swallowed hard, trying to tame the urge, but Luke wrapped his arms tightly around your torso and inhaled the smell of your hair, and you felt tears well up behind your eyelids. 

When Luke pulls away, you keep your eyes closed, already embarrassed and trying to keep any tears from falling. 

Luke’s thumb rubs across your cheek. “I missed you.” 

All you could do was nod in return.  But what you were really thinking was, I missed you too. So much. Please don’t leave me again. I love you. 

Luke sighed, then, and kissed your forehead, lips lingering on his skin for a beat longer than normal. You closed your eyes to the touch. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

The ride home from the airport felt short.  You sat in the backseat with Luke while his dad drove, and his mother turned from the front seat to talk with Luke the entire way home.

But you couldn’t help but notice that Luke didn’t have much to say.  

“You look good,” she told him, her red lips smiling wide. “You look strong.”

Luke offers her the slightest nod in affirmation. 

“Wait ‘til you see the driveway, your father’s just got it repaved.  There’s no more bump at the end, so your car won’t bottom out.”

“Oh and the neighbors finally cut down that god-awful maple tree in the front lawn, so we actually get some sun in our yard.”

“And oh my goodness, O’Riley’s closed down! Can you believe it?”

It continues like this.  Luke’s mom fills him in on things that happened in the months he’d been away, and Luke just barely nods to acknowledge it.  You could tell there was something bigger on his mind.  You want to ask him what it is, but you’re too afraid to. 

It comes up anyway. 

You’re sitting around the long, rectangular table that’s been in Luke’s kitchen for as long as you can remember.  There’s a plate of chicken and rice in front of you and you’re about to dig in when Luke clears his throat. 

“I have to tell you guys something,” he says.  

He glances at you first, it’s quick, but you can see the worry in his gaze.  Your stomach knots up and suddenly, you’re not hungry.  

“What is it, mi hijo?” his mom smiles warmly as she plants another large scoop of rice on Luke’s plate. 

“Th-they’re uh- they’re sending me to Iraq.”

His mother lets out a high pitched whimper and his father drops the fork in his hands.  But you- you stay absolutely still. 

“What?” his father gasps. 

“You said no combat!” his mother is already on the verge of hysteria.  

“That was this round, Mama.  I was doing basic training.  But now- now I’ve got to actually serve.” 

She’s shaking her head.  “No, no- Luke, it’s too dangerous!”

“I- I don’t have a choice,” his words are weak and laced with fear.  It was something you’d never heard in his voice before. 

Luke looks to you for comfort, but all you can do is stare down at the colorful plate in front of you, too stunned to speak. 

Your brain was on a loop, the same phrase spinning in your mind like a merry-go-round.  Luke was going to war. Luke was going to war. Luke was going to war. 

…

You’re 26 when you graduate school and land your dream job. 

You relocate to Washington D.C..  Your eyes are in awe as you drive through the city, the monuments and tall structures visible in the distance. 

Your dad cries when he hugs you goodbye, his arms wrapping around you tightly after helping to unload all your furniture from the U-Haul truck.  

It’s all very exciting- moving to a big city and starting your career.  

But you can’t help but notice that something, someone, was missing. 

... 

Luke is 28 when he gets shot.  

He’s lying, face up in the middle of the desert with a bullet lodged in his chest, and the first thing that enters his mind is you. 

He was going to die and all he could think about was that he’ll never hug you again, never see your warm eyes.  He never got a chance to tell you that he loved you.  

Your face was the last thing he saw before he passed out. 

The next thing Luke knew, he was lying in a hospital bed with sterile, white walls surrounding him.  He blinked up at the ceiling and made an attempt to sit up, but felt a shooting pain down his shoulder and back, so instead he fell against the bed, groaning.  

A nurse appeared above him and started speaking.  

“Can you hear me?”

Luke nods in response. 

She began inspecting him, lifting the neckline of his gown to inspect his shoulder.  Luke grits his teeth.  

“Do you know where you are?” she asks, writing something down on a scrap of paper before looking at him. 

Luke shakes his head.  

“You’re at a military hospital in Germany, everything’s alright, you’re okay,” she clips a heart rate monitor on his index finger before continuing.  “You were shot, the bullet just missed your heart, went clean through your shoulder instead.  You’re very lucky.”

Luke listened as she spoke about his vitals and apparent surgery and the extent of his injury.  After a minute or so, he just kind of tunes her out, her words blending together until one sentence in particular captures his attention. 

“-so once you’re a little more stable, you’ll be able to fly home.”

“Home?” Luke speaks his first words since waking up, his voice is cracked and his lips are dry. 

“That’s right,” she nods.  She explains to him that he would be honorably discharged, the Army feeling like his injury would prevent him from continuing to serve.  He would be sent home. 

Luke was quiet as she went on.  She talks about it like it’s a good thing, like he’s going on vacation, but Luke’s chest sinks.  He was getting sidelined- no, removed from the game altogether.  He felt like a failure and a coward- and what if people back home thought of him like that, too?  

A tiny bullet hole, no more than 10 millimeters wide, was taking the only job he’d ever been good at away from him.  

What would he do?  The army had become his life- his passion.  Where would he work?  Behind a desk?  Watching the clock tick until 5pm everyday?  Luke feels sick at the thought.  

The nurse used the word “lucky” two more times before leaving the room.  But Luke bit his lip, secretly wishing he would’ve just died out there in the desert.  

The plane ride home takes an eternity.  Luke can’t sleep, not even a little bit.  His arm is slung uncomfortably in a sling, and even though his shoulder is better, it still hasn’t fully healed. 

His parents met him at the airport.  It was odd that they were alone.  Every other time he’d visited home, you’d been right there beside them.  

Of course he was excited to see them.  But going home also meant going back to the aimless drifting he’d struggled with before enlisting. The feeling of having no purpose or reason.  

All Luke was ever sure of growing up, was that he loved you.  He watched as you left for college to pursue your passion, and never looked back.  He was happy for you, but it made him feel all the more stuck.  He never had any career goals or plans, and when he pictured his future, the only thing he was ever able to see was you.  

But when he quickly learned that his love would never be requited, that your friendship mattered more, Luke tried finding meaning elsewhere.  

The Army felt good, it felt right.  And Luke did well- he thrived, he moved his way up the ranks quickly.  He finally felt at home, for the first time since you’d left for school.  

Luke decided it was a good thing you weren’t with his parents.  He wasn’t ready to face you.  He wasn’t ready to admit he’d failed, at the one thing he cared about, the one thing he tried at.  

His mother hugged him tight, her arms embracing him just as lovingly as always.  She held him extra long. 

Pulling into his driveway for the first time in over a year and a half felt strange.  

“You painted the house,” he observed.  The classic, signature white color replaced by a dark, navy blue. 

“Yes,” his dad nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt.  “We did that last year.”

Luke nods.  It looked nice, the coat of paint fresh.  But it didn’t look like his home. 

He felt even stranger when he stepped inside to see all the furniture rearranged and everything just looking so different. 

“You knocked down the wall-” Luke noted.  

This time it’s his mother who answered. “Oh yes.  You know all those home improvement shows… always talking about open concept houses,” she mused.  “We decided to try it.  Doesn’t it make everything look bigger?”

Luke hums in response, but all he can think of is that the wall that was knocked down was the one you and him used to mark your height through the years.  He walks over to where it once stood and pauses, thinking back. 

“No, no, do me first!” you were eight years old and had jumped up and down excitedly, before stilling with your back pressed against the wall.  “I know I grew!”

Luke’s dad chuckled softly and made a tiny mark at the edge of the wall right above your head. “Look at that!” he exclaimed.  “You did!”

“Take that Luke!” 

Everything was a competition between the two of you.  

If only you had known back then that he would grow to be almost almost ten inches taller than you.  

Luke blinks the memory away before realizing his mother had asked him something, that he completely missed in his daze. 

“I asked if you were hungry, hijo.”

Luke shakes his head.  

After sleeping on cots, or even the ground for the past year, Luke found it hard to get comfortable in his soft, childhood bed.  He tossed and turned before realizing he was only going to keep getting more and more frustrated if he continued to lay here and try.  It didn’t matter if he didn’t get any sleep, it’s not like he had a job to do the next day. 

He decides to wander downstairs and into the living room, cursing under his breath as he stubs his toe on the edge of the couch.  Damnit, that used to be against the wall, he thought. 

Luke sits on the couch like that for a while, the silence was so loud.  He barely hears the light flick on in the hallway, or his dad approaching.  

“What’re you doing up?”

His father’s voice makes him jump. 

“Oh-” he says, startled.  I feel empty?  I feel alone and scared and lost?  I have no clue what the hell I’m supposed to do now? That was the truth.  But instead, Luke settled for, “My shoulder hurt.”

That seems to satisfy his dad.  

“I’m glad you’re home, son.” He says, joining him on the couch. 

Luke nods and lies through his teeth.  “Me too.” 

A couple of weeks after Luke arrived home, he saw his doctor to get the sling off his arm. After being told he’ll need physical and occupational therapy to fully recover, he signs some papers and heads home. 

When he pulls into the driveway, there’s an unfamiliar car parked in front of the garage with D.C. plates.  He doesn’t have to wonder long, who the mysterious guest is.  As soon as he opens the front door, it’s revealed.  

You’re standing with your back to the door, talking to his mom in the kitchen.  And god, Luke hadn’t been sure if he was ready to see you, but as soon as you turned around, he exhaled a shaky breath that he felt like he’d been holding in since he got home. 

He wants to rush over and pull you into his embrace, wants to hug you and never let go. 

“You’ve been home two weeks?” you ask slowly.  “Two weeks and you never called me?”  There’s hurt in your voice, but you still speak gently. 

Luke fiddles with the keys in his hand and shrugs.  You always took his breath away.  This time, that didn’t work to his advantage.  

You sigh. “Forget it, it doesn't matter.  I’m glad you’re home.”

With that you cross the room, closing the distance between you two.  When he opens his arms, and you still fit perfectly in his embrace, your head resting just above his heart, he finally, after two weeks, feels at home.  

Despite his protests, his mother throws him a welcome home party that evening.  Friends and family file into their two story house, and it’s all a lot to handle, but it’s okay- because you’re there. 

“How’re you doing?” you ask Luke, nudging his shoulder softly.  You’ve got a beer in your hand, which Luke notes as odd.  Last time he saw you, you didn’t drink beer. 

Luke smiles, “I’m good.”

He was getting way too good at lying. 

“So D.C., huh?” Luke asks, taking a sip of his own drink. 

You nod.  “Yeah, yeah I got hired at the firm I did my internship at.  It’s been great, I really like it.”

“Kinda far away,” Luke muses, he hates how petty his own voice sounds. 

You scoff. “So’s Iraq.”

That’s when Luke realizes he never told you why he was home, and that you probably assumed it was just a visit.  He clears his throat and is just about to speak when his cousin comes over, loud and seemingly already drunk. 

“Luke!” he calls.  “Luke! Welcome home, man!”

He pulls Luke in for a hug, making him wince as he pats a little too close to his bullet wound. 

“Your mom told me you were shot!” he boasts, like it’s something Luke should be proud of.  “You gotta tell me that story man!”

Luke notices your head snapping in his direction at the news of his injury- the news that until just now you had been totally oblivious to. 

Luke takes a large sip of his drink.  “Yeah, uh I don’t really remember much.” Another lie. Luke remembers every excruciating detail of that day- and he experiences it all over again every night. “Just went out for a mission then woke up in the hospital.”

There’s an awkward silence. Luke shrugs.  “Probably not the great war story you were expecting.”

You clear your throat before standing up, casually walking away from Luke and his cousin.  He sighs sadly as he watches you go, knowing he had disappointed you yet again. 

When his cousin finally started mingling with other guests, Luke was able to head off in search of you.  If he knew you at all, you’d escaped somewhere quiet, where you could process.  

But then again, you’d both changed. 

Luke finds you on the second floor patio, you’re leaning against the railing and staring straight ahead.  Only when he slides open the glass door do you turn.  

“Hey,” he whispers. 

“Hi,” you reply quietly.  Your voice isn’t nearly as angry as he thought it would be. 

“I- I should have told you I was shot.” 

“Yeah you should have.” You sound like you’re on the verge of tears.  “You could have died.”

He nods slowly.  

You bit your lip. “You also should have told me you were home.”

He nods again. 

But then you sigh, feeling defeated. “And I should have told you I moved to D.C.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. 

But you disagree. “We used to tell each other this stuff, Luke.  You used to be the first person I told anything to.” Your voice lowers as you whisper, “What happened to us?”

Luke’s at a loss for words, because he wished he had an answer for you.  He wished he had all the answers for you.  But instead he fumbled with his hands and shrugged. 

You study him up close for a moment.  It was unsettling how his face almost seemed unfamiliar after so much time spent apart.  

“We should get back to the party,” you say. 

Saying goodbye to you that night felt odd for Luke. 

“Think I’m gonna head home,” you told him. “Just wanted to say bye before I left.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, nodding slowly.  

You hugged him tightly, giving his hand one last squeeze before pulling away.  Luke felt unsettled the second that you walked out the door. 

Luke has a nightmare that night, which isn’t unusual.  He’s lying in the desert, with a hole in his chest, bleeding, and no one comes to save him.  And he cries out for help, but instead, more and more sand blows over his body, burying him deeper and deeper within its depths.  He keeps calling out, but his lungs are filling with the stuff.  Suddenly he can’t speak- he’s going to die here-

Luke shoots out of bed, his forehead slick with sweat while he pants.  He rubs his eyes viciously.  It was a dream, he thinks to himself.  Except it wasn’t. 

You’ve been in bed for a few hours when your phone rings on your nightstand, waking you up.  Groggily, you unplug it and check the screen, your eyes narrowing when you see it’s Luke calling you. 

“Luke,” you mumble into the line.  “It’s 2am-”

In response, all you hear is Luke’s unsteady breathing.  It immediately makes you sit up straighter in bed. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, worry clouding your voice.

He inhales sharply, like he’s- crying?  Luke never cried. 

“Luke-” you plead.

You only wait another moment before you launch yourself out of bed.  “I’m coming over.”

“No,” his voice sounds like it’s on the verge of breaking. “Please- I can’t… I can’t be in this room anymore.”

You sigh, his sad voice making your insides squirm. “Okay,” you whisper.  “Do you want to come here?”

“Can I?” he sounds so small through the line, like he’s just a little kid again.  Suddenly you’re picturing Luke the first day you ever met him, it makes your chest ache.  

“Yeah, of course. Just- be quiet, my parents are sleeping.”

Luke climbs through your childhood window, like he used to when you were kids.   After he stands up straight and you get a good look at him, you sigh softly.  He looks like he quite literally rolled out of bed and walked here, which you suppose is exactly what happened.  He’s in an old t-shirt you recognize from his college days and a pair of sweats that hang low on his hips.  His tight curls are slightly disheveled, like he’d been rolling around on his pillow.  

He stands in your bedroom for the first time in years and even though he’s taller and more muscular, he still looks small.   

Luke looks around your bedroom and smiles weakly.  “It looks exactly the same,” he notes.  

You nod,  “Yeah-”

He doesn’t respond.  Instead he finds his way to your bed, where he sits.  Immediately, he brings his thumb to his lips and starts chewing on the nail, a habit he’s had since childhood.  

You narrow your eyebrows at him. “Luke, what’s going on?” you ask. 

He doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as his leg starts jiggling wildly. 

Finally, he takes a deep breath.  “I don’t know, being home- you’d think I’d be happy? But everything feels so strange and unfamiliar.”

You quietly join him on the edge of your bed, never looking away from him as you sit down. 

“My parents repainted the house.  And I know that doesn’t seem like a big deal, but everything just... looks different.  And they rearranged like, everything.  The cabinets and the furniture, and my dad got a new car.  I don’t know, maybe it’s me.  Maybe I’m different.” 

His pain is so raw and visible that it makes your chest ache, because what Luke feels, you feel too.  You put a shaky hand on his broad shoulder.  

He swallows the lump in his throat.  “I actually miss Iraq.  It was dangerous and far away from home, but I felt like I had a purpose, you know?” He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.  “I keep having this nightmare- where I’m laying in the sand after being shot.” He touches the spot on his chest the bullet burst through.  “And I’m laying there and I can feel it- like I feel the pain and I can feel the warmth of the blood running down my chest-  And I feel like I’m going to die.  Like it’s right there, you know? And then suddenly, all I can think about is you.”

You’re taken aback by Luke’s statement.  

“Me?” you whisper. 

“Since I’ve been home, I’ve just been- god, I’ve been so scared and lost.  But with you, first at the party today, and now- it’s the only time I’ve felt like myself.”

You’re at a loss for words.  Partly because it was two in the morning, but mostly because Luke, to this day, knew exactly what to say to make you flustered. 

He turns in his spot on the bed to look at you, his sad eyes meeting yours. “God, I’ve always just needed you so fucking bad,” he admits.  “I mean, ever since we were kids I’ve needed you.  And I think I always will.” 

You can hear your own pulse in your head, it’s pounding rapidly at Luke’s sudden declaration.  Paralyzed, you just stare at him, trying to process what he was saying to you.

“I thought I was going to die,” he breathes.  Then, he chuckles darkly, turning away.  “Sometimes I wish I had.”

His honesty makes you want to vomit- because the idea of living in a world without Luke was just so, so wrong. 

You bit your lip.  “Show me. Let me see it.”

Luke hesitated briefly before reaching for the hem of his shirt.  He peeled off the fabric revealing the skin that puckered around where the bullet had shot through his body. 

Luke barely felt it when you traced your fingertips over the mark, but he could see, when he turned his head, the tears glistening in your eyes. 

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this,” you said quietly, staring at the scar tissue.  “I don't know what I would have done if you hadn’t come home. I think that would have broken me, so even if you’re not glad you’re alive right now,  I’ll be glad for the both of us.”

Those are the words that make Luke slowly start to lean in closer to you, watching you carefully, as if he expected you to pull away – you realized that’s exactly what Luke was giving you the opportunity to do. You didn’t, of course.  And slowly, Luke’s lips connected with yours.  You kissed gently for a moment– his lips moving in sync with yours.  When he pulls away, he’s breathless. “God, I never thought I’d get to touch you again.”  His hands slide towards your hips, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt so that he’s touching your bare skin.  

Luke deepened the kiss suddenly, his lips growing needier by the second.  He gripped your hips and tugged you towards him swiftly, guiding you all the way to his lap, where you moved to straddle him. 

Luke kept his hands firmly planted on your waistband while yours found their way to his hair.  You tugged on the strands on his neck while trying not to focus on the fact that you could feel him hardening through his sweatpants beneath you.  

Luke broke away, but only so that he could start kissing you down your neck.  You sighed, tilting your head so that Luke could access your throat better. Your arms wrapped around Luke’s strong shoulders, and you kept them there, squeezing his biceps.

Luke’s kisses trailed down towards your collar bone, where he pulled the fabric back, giving him more skin to graze.  He let his fingertips dance to the hem of your shirt, where he tugged gently, a hint that he wanted it gone.  You obliged, gripping the cotton and shedding the layer quickly.  Your hips rolled and you arched your back when Luke started to suckle on the tender skin just above your breast, his tongue snaking down to graze and flick your nipples. 

Your breath was coming in fast as Luke kissed and sucked at your chest. You almost pouted when he pulled away, but before you had a chance, his arms were winding around your waist and he was flipping you onto your back.  

Luke paused for a moment to gaze down at you on the bed, his eyes dark with lust.  

“Beautiful,” he whispered.  

His fingers danced down your hips, barely grazing the skin before reaching the band of your sleep shorts.  

“Please,” you groaned, desperate for Luke to do something- anything.  

Luke hummed, then, and reached underneath your shorts, pulling them down and around your legs in one swift motion. 

Being exposed in front of Luke should have made you feel vulnerable, maybe even a little embarrassed.  But it didn’t.  Instead, you looked up at him, feeling safer than you had in a long time. 

The touch of Luke’s hands down your thighs sent your hips up off the bed, seeking friction and Luke, the jerk – the wonderful, beautiful, perfect jerk – didn’t even warn you before dipping his head between your legs and licking a long stripe up your burning heat.

You gasped, fighting to keep your hips still. You let your fingers find their way into his hair, and Luke gently licked up and down, like he knew exactly how to move to make you squirm. After a moment, you realized that you weren’t going to last long like this, and you needed to feel Luke, all of him before you burst.

“Luke, I -” you whined, pulling at Luke’s hair desperately. Luke sucked down where he knew you were most sensitive. You groaned. Your toes were already curling hard enough to make a joint pop.  “Please, Luke-” you pulled at his hair.  “Want you-”

“I’m right here,” he mumbled against your skin.  

“No,” you shook your head, needing him to understand.  “Want you- in-inside me,” you mumbled. 

Luke looked up from between your thighs, and for a moment you thought you might die right there and then.  Death by oral.  Honestly, you wouldn’t complain.  He licks once more up your entire slit before he crawls up the bed, his arms on either side of you, trapping you underneath him. 

You were looking up at him adoringly, with tears in your eyes. But before you could say another word, Luke was leaning down and kissing you again, murmuring sweet words against your lips that you couldn’t understand, because you were too focused on the way Luke felt so hard against your thigh.  

You let your hand trace down his back, only stopping when they’ve reached his sweats.  Your fingers snake underneath the fabric and tug them down.  Luke reaches down and aids your efforts.  It takes a moment for him to shimmy out of his shorts, but then he’s there.  On top of you.  

 “This okay?” he asks as he lines himself up with you.  

You nod. 

Despite what was literally 20 years of build up, things were sloppy and quick.  There was a certain eagerness in your movements, like you’d both been craving each other for far too long.  Your hand cupped the back of his neck.  Luke presses his forehead against yours right before sliding into you, making you exhale in pleasure.  

“Fuck,” he groans, the words escaping his beautiful, flush lips. 

You hum softly in agreement, it was hard to find the words.  You desperately just wanted to savor this- him. 

Your grip tightens around his neck, your fingers digging into his skin as he hits a certain spot inside of you, your body jolting against his.  

His head dips down to your neck and he begins suckling on your soft skin. 

“Luke,” you moan again, but your voice cracks, betraying you slightly.  

“I know,” he whispers, his hips rocking against yours as he slides in and out of you. 

You bundle the sheets beneath you in a tight fist.  If your eyes weren’t closed, you would have noticed the smirk that lingers on Luke’s lips, knowing it was him that had you writhing like this.  

Your walls begin to tighten around him, the sensation making him bite his lip in pleasure.  

He reaches one of his hands down and gently lifts your leg.  You let out a gasp once he’s able to push deeper inside of you.  

Luke picks up the pace of his thrusts, his own orgasm approaching quickly with yours. 

There’s a guttural feeling building in the pit of your stomach and you know you’re not going to last much longer. 

Luke reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together as he brings your arm above your head. 

“Luke- I’m-” 

He presses his forehead against yours and nods.  “Me too,” is all he can manage to say. 

Luke grunts as he feels your warm walls clench around him.  It’s like a wave washes over your entire body- your back arching into the feeling, your head tilting back in elation.  A final cry escapes your lips, but Luke keeps his hand planted firmly on your hip as you squirm beneath him.  

His thrusts grow sloppier as the same pleasure takes over his own body shortly after.  He twitches inside of you, his arms almost giving out as his orgasm takes over. 

He breathes your name as he reaches his climax, his body shaking from the rush.  

As the feeling subsides, he slowly pulls out of you, flipping his body so that he’s laying on his back, beside you.  You both stare up at the ceiling, panting and out of breath.  

Slowly, he perches himself up on his elbow, his hand tucking a stray hair behind your ear.  You look over at him, your cheeks blushing a bright shade of red.  Gently, he dips down and kisses you softly.  It doesn't last long before he’s pulling away.  

Suddenly, a wave of emotions hits you like a bus, because holding back this secret that you were in love with Luke was exhausting.  You start to cry then. Tears leave hot streaks down your cheeks, but you don’t bother to wipe them.  You barely notice Luke’s face contort into a look of intense worry. 

You wonder if Luke will regret all of this in the morning, because now, you weren’t sure you could ever stop loving him.

“What’s wrong?” Luke’s voice is soft as he sits up in bed.  “Did I hurt you?” his eyes are darting up and down your body anxiously. 

You shake your head frantically, as you sit up with him. Luke takes the throw blanket at the end of your bed and wraps it around your shoulders lovingly.  His arm hovering, like he’s too afraid to touch you.   “I-” you stammer, trying to find the words.  “I-I’m in love with you” You finally blurt out through muffled sobs. “I’m in love with you- and I’m so afraid of that.”

The tension in the air is thick and stiff and if the clock wasn't blinking, you would have guessed time was standing still. But now too many moments are passing by with neither of you saying anything and it is as if both of you can feel the spin of the earth in the silence. 

“A-afraid?” he stutters. 

You nod, biting your lip.  “Afraid because I don’t know how to do this- I don’t know how to live without you- and-”

Fingers suddenly graze across the edge of your chin and Luke’s lifting your head up.  “I have loved you for so long,” he presses his forehead against yours.  

Doubts and reality began clouding your mind.  “But- I live in D.C. now, I have a job there and an apartment- That’s like… like four hours away-”

But Luke shakes his head.  “What if I moved there?”

“What?” you whisper.  “You’d move to D.C. with me?” 

“I’d follow you anywhere,” he states simply.  Reminding you of the day you left him for college. “Who knows?  Maybe there’s something there for me, too.”

His gaze slowly meets yours as he pulls your face towards his own, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss is broken after a second, when Luke pulls back and whispers. “I don’t want to do any of this without you anymore.”

And suddenly, time begins again. 

And you’re pulling Luke back to you, kissing him deeply and without care or caution. He runs his fingers through your feathered hair as more tears of relief stream down your face. Years of restraint finally melting away as he pulls you closer, closer, closer, trying to make up for the lost time and only feeling you press into him as if to say more, more, more. 

And though you’re not quite sure what you’re feeling right now, you know that you want to live in it forever. 

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (15)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda search for their printsessa with the help of Tony.

Warnings: dark themes, gun use, blood mention, serious injury

A/N: am I devastated that this is the final part of one of my favorite things I’ve ever written? absolutely! but I’m also really happy with myself for being able to turn the images in my head for this ending into coherent words. I’ve been holding onto this idea for weeks and I’m ecstatic to see everyone’s response to it. I’ll be letting you know later on this week what’s coming next! 👀

Previous part

-

With Clint’s assistance, Natasha and Wanda were able to quickly create a plan and make their way to the last base, using the fear and anger of their girlfriend’s disappearance to barrel through anyone that stood in the way of intel collection. They wasted no time in waking everyone up when they returned to the safe house.

“Is there a security breach?” Steve questioned as the group gathered, and Natasha tossed the hard drive at him.

“We got everything, and we need to get back--”

“Oh, I get it,” Sam cut in with an eye roll. “They rushed through the mission to get back to their girlfriend so they can cuddle and all that cute shit--”

“She’s missing!” Wanda growled as her eyes began to glow, causing Sam to step back a few feet with wide eyes.

Everyone aside from Clint started asking questions all at once, and Natasha shut them all down with a stern command to be ready to fly out in ten minutes. Bags were packed and bodies were dressed as the team rushed to get to the jet, afraid of what might happen if they delayed the two women any longer.

“While we’re checking out the house, I need someone looking into Wesley L/N,” Natasha ordered, nodding as Tony volunteered and sending him all the information she had.

“Who is this, her brother?”

“Her cousin, if that’s even true--”

“It is, we checked the family history,” Wanda insisted, grabbing Natasha’s hand with a shaky breath. “They’re really close, he wouldn’t hurt her.”

“We don’t know that! Anyone can do something terrible if they’re pushed far enough--”

“Stop! Just fucking stop!” Wanda cried out as she covered her face with her hands, and Natasha moved to wrap her arms around her as she sat in the seat beside her.

“I’m sorry, Wan. I’m just worried and my brain is wired to go to the worst case scenario instantly.”

Wanda simply sniffled as tears started spilling down her cheeks again, leaning her head against Natasha’s shoulder as she accepted the comforting embrace. After a few minutes of silence between the pair, Wanda dropped her hands into her lap as she glanced at green eyes already absentmindedly staring at her, lowering her voice as she spoke.

“I want to ruin his mind before we kill him.”

-

The house felt empty and colder without your presence, every step on the carpeted floor of the front room seemed to echo around the building. Tears threatened to build in Wanda’s eyes again but she held them back, intent on believing that they will find you and bring you back where you belong. Only they could take care of what you needed.

A heavy feeling washed over their hearts when they entered your solo room and discovered some of your clothes and shoes were missing, along with the travel bag you’d first arrived with. The guest room Wesley resided in was also void of his presence, and anything that could clue them into where he’d taken you. 

“Tash, look.”

Natasha followed her gaze to the security room, cursing loudly in Russian when she noticed the door left wide open. She stormed inside, clenching her fist in anger when she noticed the tiny plastic baggie holding the miniscule tracker that was supposed to be in your leg right now.

“He’s a psychiatrist, not a fucking surgeon!” she fumed as she showed the object to Wanda. “How did he get this out?!”

Wanda walked around her to get to one of the computers, logging in as fast as her fingers would allow her to type and bringing up the security footage from the last several days. For the most part, the two of you acted normally, doing all the things you’d told them about like playing games and watching TV, but the sight of the two of you emerging from the TV room in the basement and entering the game room brought something to her attention.

“Did you see that?” She backed up the footage and switched over to slow motion. “She’s limping.”

“Isn’t that the day she hurt her leg in the backyard?”

“Yes, but…” The backyard footage is brought up next and skipped through until the moment of your ‘injury’. “This happened almost two hours later, meaning--”

“It was a cover for the tracker removal.” Natasha cursed once more as she released a frustrated sigh. “She’s getting locked in her room as soon as she gets back here.”

A notification similar to a phone ringing went off on one of the monitors, and the two women scurried over to answer the incoming call from Tony.

“Everything you had on this Wesley kid checks out, no criminal history or secret ties to any Hydra related groups, or anything else you have to worry about. However, I tried tracking and hacking into his phone and it seems to be wiped clean. So I got into his phone records with his cell company and his last call was made to an unsaved number connected to someone named Kendall, last known address in Nebraska.”

“Send it to us, please.”

They were on their feet as soon as the call ended, grabbing the mission bags abandoned in the doorway and heading off to their respective rooms to repack for the trip.

In nearly the same moment, you were in your safe house in Nebraska, rounding the corner to enter Wesley’s room. He knew something was wrong by the way your eyes watered and your shaky hand held onto the bugging device.

“They found us.” There was no questioning tone in his voice, but you answered with a nod anyway.

“Pack everything you brought and get out of here, drive toward the west coast until you run out of gas and hide wherever you stop.”

“What?! I can’t leave you here! They’ll just take you back and it’ll be worse than before.”

“I’ll be fine, Wes,” you assured him with a gentle squeeze of your hand over his. “I planned for this too, and if I know them as well as I think, I’ll be free to come find you.”

-

Wesley was packed and gone within the next hour, and you worked quickly to transform the space, make it seem as if you’d been the only one to reside in the home. Once that was set, you changed clothes and positioned yourself in an armchair against the wall in the front room, a gun resting in your lap. You didn’t move when a knock was heard on the front door that night, simply waited until the visitors got impatient and picked the lock to force their way in.

“You worried us, printsessa, disappearing like that,” Natasha addressed you in a chilling tone as the two of them stopped a few feet away from you. “And we’ll deal with that later, after you tell Wesley to come out so we can punish him first.”

“He’s not here,” you told her calmly. “His only job was to bring me here--”

“And take the tracker out of your leg, which we will be putting back,” Wanda interjected with a stern expression. “Now, you can either come with us to the car willingly or we’ll drag you.”

“I won’t be doing either of those things.” You stood slowly, lifting the gun to your temple as you went. “Your only choices are to leave me here and go back to the way your lives were before I came in, or you can let me die. If you take me again, I’ll just fight you every day until you wish you’d killed me yourself. No matter how you manipulate my mind, my true self will never love someone who wants to control me. I’ll tell you how much I hate you for ruining my life every second I’m able, and I’ll kill myself the moment I get the chance to do so.”

You noticed the glassy look in their eyes as they faced each other, and you knew they were having a silent conversation in their minds. Seconds felt like minutes as they seemed to discuss their options, eventually turning back to face you. Wanda was fully crying now, and Natasha seemed to be physically holding back her own emotional break.

“We always thought we’d be able to love and care for you until our dying days.” Her shaky voice filled the quiet room. “But we understand if you don’t want that, and we’re sorry that you’ll never be able to love anyone else.”

Before you had time to react, Natasha was pulling a gun out and aiming it at your heart, the sound of the shot echoing and triggering Wanda’s instant sobbing. Natasha was quick to pull her into her arms, facing her away from you as you tumbled to the ground, your own weapon sliding away as your free hand weakly pressed against the oversized sweatshirt that covered your wound.

The two women hurried out of the house as you began to choke and cough up blood, not able to stomach hearing or seeing anymore, and the sound of a car speeding off echoed throughout the neighborhood. Waiting another minute or two to be sure they left, you got up to walk off to the bathroom, wiping the fake blood off your palm the best you could. After slipping the bulletproof vest off your torso and washing your hands, you quickly rinsed your mouth and brushed your teeth to get rid of the red stains, lifting your head to look in the mirror with a smile when you were done.

You looked pretty good for a dead woman.

-

Tags: @littlegasps @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @imnotasuperhero @creepingwolfberry @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @bebe404 @seventeen0 @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @fayhar @becka107 @wannabe-fic-reader @beforeoursecrets @cosmicbrownies7 @messuhp @mjaudrey @sxphiaswitch @trikruismybitch @muted-stoneheart @multi-images @just-a-normalpersons @want-to-watch-it-burn @stop-drop-and-drumroll @stickystudentlightmug @pianogirl2121 @welcometothepeanutgallery @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @sakurat123 @darkangelxoxo @haiiiloeee2

[soldierswar]

Kobik - Chapter VII

Bucky x Reader

Angst

Plot: You, Sam, Bucky, and even Kobik learn that she may be a lot more powerful than anybody thought.

Masterlist (For other chapters)

“Kobik,” you said, and signaled for her to stand behind you.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” one of the three guys barked.

You and Bucky nervously eyed each other from the corners of your eyes. You really wished you brought earpieces.

“What is it that you even want from her?” you hissed.

“Come on. Don’t you know what this thing can do? Spoiler alert, it’s not just little party tricks.”

Kobik held on to you and nervously squeezed your leg.

“Don’t you dare think about touching her,” Bucky said in a low, threatening tone.

You suddenly spotted Sam facing the backs of the men hiding behind a wall of the parking structure. You dared not look at him for longer than half a second so as to not give away his spot and stayed as still as a statue.

Suddenly, Kobik did something that you never would have expected, nor would you have let happen if you had any control. She unwrapped her arms from your legs and stepped towards the meanest of them, outstretching her arms to him so that he could pick her up.

Bucky looked livid.

“Kobik, don’t you dare.”

She looked back at him with innocent eyes and let the man pick her up.

“See?” the man gloated.

“That wasn’t so ha—”

But before he could finish his sentence his whole body lit up into a glowing blue and began convulsing as though he were being electrocuted…Because he was.

She didn’t let go of him until he fell backward and dropped to the floor. All of you stared at the two in shock. You didn’t know that she could do that. Kobik just stared at the man on the ground with a straight face.

“He’s not dead,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as though she was talking about a bug.

Before the other two guys had a chance to retaliate against the three of you they looked like they had been stunned in the back one by one and fell to the ground writhing in pain.

“Neither are they,” she added.

“But I didn’t do that.”

“Well, are you coming or not?” Sam yelled from across the parking lot holding a stun gun waving at you to come to the car in the parking structure. Right before following the direction you realized that Kobik was missing. She was right in front of you a second ago.

“Kobik? Come on before they wake up!” you called out.

But nothing…And then Bucky looked up.

“Kobik! Get down from there!” he yelled.

And there was Kobik. She was on the roof of the hospital ten stories up.

“But I have to see!”

“No!” Bucky protested.

“Come down now! We’re leaving, and the coast is clear!”

She was too far away for her expression to be clear, but she was too concentrated and defiant to even reply. Who knew if she was even listening.

“Now you know what it feels like,” you gloated.

Bucky shot you a glare.

Finally, she disappeared and seemed to teleport from the roof. But she didn’t come next to you. She suddenly appeared in one of the parking structures. But…it wasn’t the one that she was supposed to be at.

“Wrong one!” Bucky yelled so that she could hear.

“Kobik hasn’t quite gotten full control of her powers yet,” he explained.

You both ran towards the correct structure waiting for Kobik to just appear where you were supposed to go. But she didn’t. She just stood at the entrance with her shoulders slumped over. And she began to look a little weak.

“Come on, Kobik,” you doted.

“I can’t,” she panted.

You couldn’t hear much of what she said as she was relatively far, but it sounded like she was saying that she was too tired to move now. She might have exhausted herself because of all of the energy she had emitted within the past 15 minutes.

“I’ll go get her,” Bucky sighed letting you go meet up with Sam.

“Thanks for the rescue, Cap,” you panted. You couldn’t believe how winded you were after only ten seconds of running.

“No problem,” he replied shoving his stun gun in the back of his pants again.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. She’ll just need a lot of rest.”

And then…Before Bucky could get to her she let out a blood-curdling scream. When you turned around to her direction another guy had grabbed her. But she didn’t do what she did before. This time she glowed brighter than you had ever seen before. And then the seemingly impossible happened. The entire front half of the parking structure exploded.

“Kobik!” you screamed.

Right before you were about to run, Sam held you back standing in front of you with his hands grasping onto your shoulders tightly.

“Get in the car and start the engine. We’ve got this.”

“No! I have to get—”

“Y/N, I’m not going to tell you again.”

Your jaw clenched as you looked at the destroyed part of the building. You felt helpless. But there was no possible way that you could get out of his grasp.

“Listen if you want to help, do this.”

Your jaw clenched. And you held back an eye roll when you took a moment to accept that he was right.

By the time you turned the car on Bucky was calling you on your cellphone.

“Bucky?”

“She’s okay,” he said.

But she didn’t sound okay. You could hear her crying loudly like she was scared. She sounded close enough to the phone for you to know that he was at least carrying her.

“Meet us at the hospital exit. We’re coming.”

You floored it out of the parking spot over to the exit.

Kobik was covered in rubble and in obvious distress sobbing harder than ever.

Bucky sat in the back with her trying to get her to calm down, and Sam joined you in the passengers’ seat.

“I’m sorry,” she cried.

“I didn’t mean to I…”

“I know,” Bucky would whisper holding her close.

“Did I hurt anyone?”

But Bucky wouldn’t answer that question.

“Don’t worry about that. Let’s just get you home.”

That answer didn’t stop the crying. There was nothing that he could do that would stop her crying. And in turn, you found tears begin to fall down your cheeks. You hoped that nobody noticed.

…

When you finally got home you needed to talk to Bucky. Sam was more than happy to stay with Kobik who had finally stopped crying but wouldn’t talk anymore. You grabbed Bucky and closed yourselves in your room.

“What the hell happened back there?”

Bucky sighed.

“She…She still hasn’t developed full control of her powers yet.”

His jaw clenched as you stared at him with a very serious look.

“What do you mean? I thought you said that she was totally harmless, James.”

“To you, Y/N,” he stated.

“Listen. She’s never been known to hurt anyone that she trusts or at least doesn’t have a reason to distrust; which was why I was totally comfortable leaving her with you.”

Fair point. She was nothing but harmless and playful.

“But when it comes to things like this when she was completely alone and caught off guard…Stuff like this could happen. With what happened this afternoon and tonight…It was probably too much for her.”

“So things like this have happened before?” you questioned.

“Y/N, why do you think that two scientists were studying her and keeping her existence under wraps? In the wrong hands, she could be, well, unstable. But she’s a lot better at controlling her powers now than she was a year ago…But she still needs help.”

You sat down on the bed absolutely exhausted after the incredibly long day that you had. It barely even registered that at the beginning of the day you were having a completely normal, happy morning and afternoon.

You sat down on the bed not having the energy to carry any type of expression on your face. You probably looked like you were in a trance.

“We have to know the damage,” you said after a solid minute of sitting.

“It’s probably all over the news now.”

Bucky sat down next to you and nodded in agreement while pulling his phone out. Before he even unlocked his phone there was a news article notification headlined, ‘Brooklyn Hospital Parking Structure Destroyed: 1 casualty.’.

You were both guiltily relieved that the only person that died was the guy that tried to grab Kobik. On the flip side, a lot of car owners and insurance companies were going to be pissed.

“How was she able to harbor all of that energy, James? You had to go get her because she was too weak to walk. And then she just exploded half of a building?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t even know if she has the answer to that question. I think it just happened without her knowing that she could even do that.”

He opened his phone again and went for further news coverage.

“They’re not tracing anything back to her or us.”

Not only did nothing get traced back to you guys, but the suspects of the explosion were the three guys that had their guns pointed to you before Kobik’s little trick, and Sam’s rescue. The only weird thing to news outlets was that there were no traces of whatever could have possibly created an explosion that big. Which most importantly meant that there were no signs of Kobik existing.

“Are you scared of her again?”

Bucky seemed worried about your answer. And you knew now that it was because he loved that little girl. Probably just as much as you loved her. And for that, you were grateful to her for coming into your lives when she did. Looking back at how caring he was for her made you see how much of an amazing dad he was going to be. Flashes of your eventual future watching him make your child laugh, or taking care of them when they had scrapes, and even the cliché of teaching them how to ride a bike. No matter how terrified he might feel about now knowing how to be a father, it was clear that he knew exactly how to be a dad.

He seemed a little bit more nervous from your cryptic pause. You then frowned and kissed him, offended that he would even ask you that. So you gave him the answer that he hoped you would have.

“Never.”

Note: I am so grateful to every one of you that have gotten invested in this story. It's been truly a joy to know that reading this makes so many of you guys happy. I love you all. <3

Tagged: @buckylove123 @teenagedreams-bucky @typicalnerd98 @veroxloki @white-wolf-buckaroo @acciosiriusblack @pastel-boy-sungjae @flightsandfantasy @noiralei @unstablesleepygal

[kywaslost]

Castiel

Warnings: being sick

Castiel never did have to deal with emotions very often. Well, at least emotions such as sadness and being upset. He never even really had to deal with a female, let alone a teenage girl. It was Sam and Dean’s sister. She was only 15 years old but had been through so much. After all, she wasn’t even supposed to be alive. Long story short, a witch used some magic to reverse time. Mary was alive and living a happy life with her husband John and her daughter Y/N. 

Sam and Dean ended up killing the witch. When Mary and John disappeared, Y/N did not. Taking the girl into open arms, Sam and Dean playbed the big brother role. They took her everywhere, except when killing monsters. They would leave her in the motel with Sam’s computer to keep her busy. The three had a great relationship. When Castiel came along, Y/N was terrified of him. The fact that he was an angel and got along so well with her brothers scared her. She didn’t like that he’d appear out of nowhere and suddenly speak, scaring the living daylights out of her.

As time passed Y/N grew a little more fond of the angel. He’d appear and she wouldn’t jump in fear. Sam and Dean noticed this and praised her for it, but were still confused. Whenever the angel was around, Y/N would be completely silent. Even if Sam or Dean tried to ask her a question she would sit in silence. They didn’t understand why she was this way around the angel but they let her do her thing.

This was the first time Sam and Dean left the angel with the girl. They went out on a simple salt and burn while Y/N stayed back at the motel. Castiel appeared in the back seat of the Impala and Dean sent him to stay with their sister.

“She’s sick,” Dean explained. “She has a fever and an upset stomach. Just stay with her and get her anything she needs.”

“I can heal her,” the angel offered.

“I don’t think she’d like that,” Sam protested. “She’s afraid of your grace.”

“And it would be better to let the sickness run its course,” Dean added on. “Now go stay with her. I don’t like that we left her alone.” Castiel nodded once before flying to the motel room. He looked around to see Y/N curled up under the covers of one of the old beds. She slept restlessly with looks of discomfort on her face. Castiel sat down slowly beside her so as to not wake her up. He sat there for several moments before she shot out of bed and ran towards the bathroom. Castiel could hear the poor girl retching, wheezing in an attempt to get air into her lungs. The angel rushed into the bathroom and held the hair away from Y/N’s face. When she realized who was with her she froze.

“Go away,” she wheezed. “Please just leave me alone.” The angel nodded after hesitating, leaving the girl in the bathroom. A minute or two passed before Y/N emerged from the bathroom, leaning against the door frame. Tears slid down her flushed face as she looked at the angel.

“Help,” she whispered quietly. Castiel walked over to her, arm hovering over her waist.

“Is this ok?” She nodded weakly as she fell into him. He guided her over to the couch and sat her down gently.

“Do you need anything? Water, perhaps?” he asked quietly.

“Yes please,” Y/N breathed, laying down and curling up into a ball.  Castiel handed her a small glass of water, hands hovering around the glass in case she were to drop it.