#then we went to the emergency room for like 6 hours

[mmelionsblog]

best of wives and best of women \\ alastor //

A/N: reader is an owl in the after life !

your eyes slowly opened, the darkness of the hotel room met with you, with the hint of red shading into the shared bedroom of yours and alastor’s room from the bay window. you yawned, facing away from the window to be met with yet another empty space on another day. you frowned, your hand tracing from up the pillow and down onto the bed.

your ears perked up though, with the best hearing you could thank for, you knew where alastor was. your eyes twitched with annoyance, grumbling ‘of course, the man i marry is a workaholic’. you slipped on your red soft slippers, grabbing the matching robe alastor bought you a couple months back.

covering yourself, you opened your door and closed it quietly knowing your other friends were still dead asleep (no pun intended). you clicked on the golden button going up, what was so cool about it was that you and alastor were the only ones who can access this elevator only thanks to lucifer’s magical talents.

you yawned, looking up at the mirror glass ceiling. your hair was such a mess, but overall you were a whole mess. alastor’s seen you in worse, so you didn’t care whatsoever if he was in a mood or not. the doors opened, and you walked your way to your husband’s office room, on top the sign red ON AIR. you sighed, sitting on the made bench alastor put out for you.

it was 5:35 in the morning, as you sat. you cracked your neck as you waited patiently for your sweet dear husband to finish up. another thirty minutes went by, and this time you had a cup of coffee from the vending machine from across the hallway.

“dearie,” the brown door creaked open, and there stood your husband. your red eyes burned into his, “alastor. i ASKED you to stay in this morning, come on you can’t do that simple request for me?” you whined, placing your can down and walking towards him. he finally closed his office, locking it as he placed the key into his pocket. “i know, but i couldn’t sleep and so i just decided to plan out all of today’s radio’s top hit.”

you shook your head, “what time is it before the hotel all wakes up?” you asked him. “6:10 my dear, why are you asking?” you smiled up at him, “we’re going back to sleep.” you grabbed him by his hand, ran into the golden elevator and pressed your level where your room was.

“and where is this all coming from?” your husband’s voice echoed through your body as you leaned onto him. “i was moody this morning, didn’t see my lovely husband right next to me. you wouldn’t like that if i did it to you now, would you?” you looked up to meet his own red eyes.

alastor shook his head. “no dearie i wouldn’t,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. the elevator dinged, opening the doors. the two of you walked out only to see husker waiting at your door. alastor’s smile twitched, but remained calm and placed you behind him. “husk, to what do we owe you at such hour?” alastor asked.

husker bit his lip in fear, “charlie just wanted to tell you breakfast was ready, she wanted everyone to be up at this hour due to an activity she had in mind.” you whined loudly, slamming your head into your husband’s back. “tell charlie, my dear and i have plans today. if it is a so called emergency i’ll be there, but to leave us alone.”

your eyes brightened at the thought of having alastor all to yourself. you hadn’t been alone with him since the two of you walked in, in the day at least. “oh mon amour,” you tried to walk in front of him, but since husker was still there, alastor wasn’t going to let any other person other than yourself and family (if you ever to see them) see you in such a state. “i suggest you leave.” he growled out to husker, husker nodded and bid a fair well to you and your loving al.

giggling, you finally emerge into his eyesight. “my love, where you jealous just now?” your hands wrapped around his waist as you stood on your tippy toes, your face inches away from his. “i don’t know what you mean by that.” you giggled, as alastor opened the door to your shared room.

you hopped into your bed after hanging your robe and putting your slippers away, waiting patiently for your lover. he came in with the matching set he also got for himself. you gigged at the sight, the only women on earth and in hell that could see him in such a state. “i am the luckiest woman in hell,” you breathed out.

alastor climbed into the bed, his hand pressed up onto your cheek caressing it lightly. “best of wives and best of women,” he whispered, kissing you softly.

[silken-moonlight]

Older Alpha x Human Waitress Part 6

A/N: Hi there! Finally here with part six, i hope you guys like it! Part 7 will drop tomorrow 😊 also here you find my Masterlist!

Desmonds POV

Suddenly, the dogs began to bark and run toward his hiding spot. They must have smelled him. Were those dogs insane, running toward a large predator that could easily rip them apart?

His mate immediately followed them. "Pumpkin! Spice! Stop yelling at the raccoons!" she said to them angrily, running over to them and picking them up, one dog under each arm. To be honest, that looked utterly funny: two megalomaniac dogs being picked up like nothing. She brought them back inside, seemingly bringing them upstairs since he could see the light there. Desmond crept a little closer, wanting to look into her house through the glass doors.

He heard her steps, coming closer and the back door opened again. By now the alpha was glad that he had stayed in his spot, otherwise she would have seen him. There was a little bowl in her hand and she walked until she almost reached the tree line.

Since Desmond was in his full werewolf form, he appeared as an excessively large wolf. She stood nearly right next to him and called out, "Sweethearts, I have something for you!" She set the bowl down, which contained nuts and fruits. He presumed it was for the raccoons she had mentioned. Her scent wafted toward him on the gentle breeze. Oh, how he yearned to emerge from the darkness and enter her field of vision. Although he understood that it was not a wise decision, she would be frightened. Therefore, he remained concealed as she returned to her house.

His wolf whined, so desperate to be close to her that it physically hurt.

Your POV

The following morning came quickly; the morning sun filled your room, and you got up immediately. You were so happy to see your only friend again that you picked out an outfit and did your makeup quickly. When you were pleased with your reflection in the mirror, you grabbed your purse and said goodbye to your parents.

The café where Will and you met was a twenty-minute walk away; you made it in 15 minutes. Will had already waited for you, waving when he saw you. “It's so good to see you!” He yelled over the parking area and jogged over to you, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. You chuckled: “Good to see you too!” You said excitedly. In a matter of minutes, the two of you went inside and sat down, immediately beginning to talk. “Tell me about your latest travels,” you said to Will, who smiled and showed you so many pictures and videos of him and his girlfriend. Most of them were unpublished and unedited clips for their social media. They had been in the Carpathian Mountains, and the view you were seeing on his phone was absolutely breathtaking. You listened eagerly to every word that left his mouth, listened to every story and every detail. You loved listening to other people's stories. After half an hour, he stopped, since you two also needed to order, and looked at you.

“And what about you, tell me what happens in your life.” He said while sipping from his cold brew coffee. “Well nothing has really changed for me, mom and dad are still the same, Pumpkin and Spice get crazier by the day…” You thought for a moment: “Oh I do have something semi-exciting to tell. So we have this incredibly hot guest, he has been coming every evening for a week or more. We always make small talk, he is here for some kind of business. I think he has a crush on Mandy, and he tips at least 20% each time. I met him the other day in our bookstore and had to leave because of an emergency. A few days later he showed up at my work and gave me the books that I left behind.” You told him as he listened, being silent for a moment. “Okay, kind of weird.” He added and you nodded: “I think he’s like in the mafia. He gave me his card with his name and number on it, in case anybody gives me trouble.” Will’s eyebrows were raised: “That sounds like some of the smut books you told me about. Though yeah it really sounds like he is in something not good. So, what's his name then?”

“Desmond, I’ve forgotten his last name, though.” You said and fumbled for your phone to get out the card. You had put it in your phone case so you wouldn’t lose it. Will slammed his cup down harshly on the table, causing you to look up at him. “That's my brother,” he growled. You looked at Will, thunderstruck. “I smell him on you,” Will continued, still growling. “What…?” You asked, a little confused. Will had told you about his brother. Desmond had been the golden child, who could do no wrong and had been just like Will’s father. He had looked down on Will like the rest of his family.

“I…I’m sorry…I didn’t know.” You apologized. Will looked distressed and said, “It’s okay, really. Would you show me the card?” He asked, and you did. He quickly photographed it.

Desmonds POV

Desmond had a slow day; the meeting took longer than anticipated and was even more boring than the day before. He longed to see his mate; he physically ached. When he was finally finished and went to his hotel to freshen up, somebody banged on his door.

Desmond sighed and opened the door. What he had not thought would happen was that his brother, William, would be standing before him. Desmond stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. For years, he had tried to contact him. His little brother looked so diffrent, so adult, so...changed. A thousand emotions rushed through Desmond, things he wanted to say, he wanted to apologize, everything

“William.” He said softly, not knowing what to say. Will pressed his way inside: “Listen up asshole, I don’t know how you found me, I don’t care. But if you do not let my only friend in peace and stop trying to take her away from me…I will rip out your throat.” Desmond was absolutely confused.

“What are you talking about?” Desmond asked. “Oh don’t play innocent. My best friend ,Y/N L/N, waitress at the Sailor Boy. Ringing any bells?” The alpha was now even more confused but wanted to explain. “William, hear me out. I did not know that the two of you even know each other. I have been trying to find you for years, why don’t we sit down and talk?” William growled at him. “No, if you show up at her restaurant again I will find you and kill you.” Desmond sighed. “It's not that easy, she is my mate.”

William stared at him.”You fucking bastard, don’t think you can fool me!” Desmond answered: “I am not, she is my mate.”

[marnikula]

Hey! I was wondering if you would be able to write a post about a Derek x reader where Derek is in the hospital after getting shot and the reader is just so distraught and bursts into his room, but plot twist, no one knows that they are in a relationship except for Garcia, who let the reader know, and they are all so confused.

Also, I imagined it as a female reader, so if you are comfortable, could you do that?

Hey! Sure, I can do that for you😊

Not my best work, sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy none the less

CW: Injury, female reader, mentions of gun shot, hurt / comfort, talks of deatb

✨Enjoy!✨

You have never felt your heart drop so quickly and so violently into your shoes before that moment. "He just went into surgery, I don't know how long it's going to take for him to come out, I called as soon as I could."

Derek was shot. He was in surgery. He was shot. Shot. He could be dying. He could be dead.

Shooting out of your seat you grabbed a bag and flung all of your necessities in it, letting Garcia know you were on the way before hanging up the phone. He was in California, 6 hours away by plane and you hadn't even bought tickets yet, you didn't have anywhere to stay. You knew you were being rash rushing to the other side of the country without a plan, but you didn't care. The love of your life was on an operating table and you weren't there.

Hailing a taxi to the airport you finally took the time to book a flight, thanking whatever higher power there was for the fact that the soonest flight out was in less than an hour and praying that you would be able to make it.

===============================

Rushing into the hospital, your bag still in hand, you ran up to the front desk.

"I'm looking for Derek Morgan's room, he was shot, can you tell me where he is" even to your own ears your voice sounded frantic, like you were hanging on by a thread. And to be honest you were, you just needed to know that Derek was okay. "What is your relation to the patient?" "I'm his girlfriend"

After getting his room number from the nurse you practically flew up the stairs, not having the patience to wait for an elevator. Seeing his room you moved even faster, breaking into a sprint and almost knocking a tall and lanky man over in the process. Shouting your apologies behind you, you were met with a door, slowing down just in time to not run against it.

You were in such a flurry of relief seeing Derek alive and awake that you didn't even register the rest of the people in the room as you rushed in, dropping your bag at the door and enveloping him in a hug. His good arm reached around you and hugged you back as tightly as he could muster, which was still pretty tight considering he had just woke up from anesthesia.

Kissing the top of your head Derek spoke the first word between the two of you: "Hey princess, what are you doing here?" You shoved yourself out of his embrace, still sitting on the bed and letting the agitation you felt show on your features

"What am I doing here?! Seriously? You got shot and went into emergency surgery and you're asking me what am I doing here?!" "Whoah baby, calm down, I'm fine, doctors said I'll make a full recovery, no lasting damage except for some scarring" your reply followed, with a smack against his good shoulder as well "Don't you ever, and I mean *EVER* do that to me again, do you understand?! I was so scared that I would loose you" "Baby, I'm so sorry that I scared you, but I'm fine now, and I promise to try my best not to get shot again. It ain't exactly fun you know. Now do I get a kiss or what?"

A loud clearing of a voice broke the two of you out of your little world. "Are we perhaps interrupting something?"

"Rossi, man, I respect you and all, but please, get your and everyone else's asses out of my room so I can spend some time with my girl"

[miaroseindreamland]

Reaction to MOM'S DAY

Today is mother's day in my country so I thought about writing reactions about skz and the reader having a family together, and an established relationship.

Maknae Line

This will be the hyung line reaction. ☺️

BANGCHAN

You woke up to the gentle rays of the sun filtering in, accompanied by a delightful scent that filled the room. Glancing at your nightstand, you spotted a jar of your favorite flowers, a sweet gesture from your thoughtful husband. Stretching, you noticed your baby's bed beside yours was empty.

"Channie?" you called out, and your husband appeared at the door, holding your 3-month-old baby in his arms.

"Happy Mother's Day, my love," he greeted you with a kiss on your forehead. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your baby boy in a onesie that read "Mom's Prince."

"Oh my goodness, he's adorable! Did you dress him?" you asked, amused.

"I did," he replied proudly. "Took me half an hour, but I think I did a decent job."

"It's perfect," you assured him, scooping up your little one. "My little prince."

"I love you," Chan said, gazing at you with affection as you kissed him.

"And I love you more," you teased, making him chuckle.

"Impossible," he countered, but your moment was interrupted by the sound of your baby boy crying.

"Looks like someone's hungry as mama," you remarked, getting ready to feed him. Chan helped you settle back against the bed frame and pillows.

"Hubby's going to whip up a perfect breakfast for you while you feed our little guy," he announced, and you nodded gratefully, focusing on feeding your baby as Chan headed to the kitchen to make you breakfast.

MINHO

You finished getting ready for the day and emerged from the bathroom to find your 6-year-old and 3-year-old, accompanied by cardboard and three cats wearing hats.

"Happy Mother's Day!" they exclaimed in unison, nearly causing you to jump.

"Oh my goodness!" you exclaimed, spotting your husband in the kitchen doorway, wearing an apron and thoroughly enjoying the scene.

"Next!" he commanded in a playful tone, as your 3-year-old daughter, adorned in a princess dress, stepped forward. "You're a queen, Mommy! You're the... the..." she hesitated, glancing back at her father, who silently prompted her.

"The best mommy ever!" she declared with a cute smile that resembled her father's mischievous one.

"And Dad's a king!" your 6-year-old son added enthusiastically. "Lee k-know and y/n are indeed a perfect match." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at your husband, who chuckled in response. "We love you, Mommy," they hugged you.

"Oh, I love you too," you hugged them. "And you too," you said, watching your three cats, not amused by their small cute hats.

"Look, Mommy, it's us!" Your daughter said, showing the collage she made on the cardboard.

"Oh my gosh, so beautiful! You did all of this alone?"

"Yes, Mom!" Your son said proudly.

"I'm impressed! It's beautiful!" You exclaimed.

"Mommy, Daddy brought a present for us to give you," your son said frankly, as Minho chuckled.

"He did?"

"Yes!" The kids went to the room to pick it up as Minho walked to you.

"Happy Mother's Day, kitty," he said, stealing a kiss as you hugged him.

"It couldn't be better," you said, kissing his cheek. "Dori seems to struggle with the hat."

"Trust me, I struggled more to put the hats on," you chuckled, seeing some scratches on his arm.

"I love you," you expressed against his cheek as he pulled you to him with a smirk.

"I love you too, even when you're being a brat."

"Oh, that's true love," you chuckled as he kissed your cheek. You moved apart when the kids appeared in the living room again, excited to show you the present.

"I'm going to finish breakfast," Minho returned to the kitchen as you stayed with your children happily.

CHANGBIN

You were laying in bed, trying to catch a few more moments of sleep, when you heard noises outside your room. You searched for your husband Changbin, but he was nowhere to be found. Sitting up in bed, you glanced at the slowly opening door, and there stood your husband, ushering your daughters into the room with a tray adorned with a flower and breakfast.

"What's all this?" you asked, a smile spreading across your face as one of the twins excitedly exclaimed, "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!" She leaped onto the bed, grinning and hugging you tightly.

"Yeah!" your husband, Changbin, chimed in, laughing at the moment.

"Daddy, I can do it!" the other daughter insisted, attempting to push her father away, but he continued to assist her.

"Dad's got it!" he sighed, smiling at you as he helped the little one hand you the tray. "But Dad wanted to help you, sweetheart," he explained, earning a chuckle from you.

"Oh, thank you, beautiful princess!"

"We did all this, didn't we, princesses?" Changbin asked, one of your daughters looking at him in confusion.

"No, a man brought it," you laughed, picking up a grape as Changbin playfully scolded his daughter.

"Yah! Harin!" he chided her.

"Hari, Daddy said not to say that!" the other daughter admonished, and you glanced at him.

"Oh..."

"That's okay, baby. Mommy loves it either way," you reassured them, pulling them into a warm embrace. "I'm so lucky for having Harin and Hajin in my life." You kiss both of them.

"You're the best mommy," Hajin said, making your heart swell with love.

"Oh, babies, I love you so much," you whispered, kissing their cheeks as you hugged them. "Shall we eat?" Changbin joined you, turning on the TV to watch cartoons. The girls were engrossed in the show as they snacked on grapes and strawberries.

"Thank you," you whispered, glancing at your husband, who smiled and tenderly kissed you

"Don't thank me. You deserve so much more, babe," he said, pulling you closer and kissing your temple. "You gave birth to our two beautiful girls. You so good for me. I love you." he whispered against your skin.

"I love you too." you replied, closing your eyes and cherishing the sweet moment.

HYUNJIN

"Appa! Red!" exclaimed a cute baby girl while a man fed her baby food.

"No, sweetie. This is black," he corrected her, pointing to his shirt.

"No, Appa red," she insisted, pointing to his back. The man looked back and jumped.

"No, no! The hotteok!" he yelled, rushing with a kitchen cloth to extinguish the fire.

At the same time, you entered the kitchen, still half awake.

"Hyunjinnie?" you called out sweetly, gasping as you saw him putting out the fire. "What happened?" You picked up your daughter from the baby chair.

"Daddy's clumsy," she said, as you chuckled at seeing him throwing the pan into the sink.

"I was trying to surprise you. I wanted out Hyunae to bring you breakfast in bed," he explained. "I even made your favorite juice."

"Oh, honey," you kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"I'll order food," he suggested.

"No, why don't we do it together? It's our day off and Mother's Day. Nothing would make me happier than making memories as a family," you suggested, and he smiled cheekily.

"Really?" he asked, and you nodded happily. "We can make cookies!" he suggested, and your daughter jumped with excitement in your arms.

"Hyunjinnie? You called him while he was looking for the ingredients.

"Thank you for taking the day off. I love you," you said, tears starting to appear in your eyes.

"Don't thank me, I will do anything for you and Hyunae." He smiled and picked hyunae to place her in the baby chair.

"Dad is bad." Hyunae said as you both chuckled while hyunjin placed the food in her front.

"Oh, wait!" he exclaimed, remembering something. He dashed inside and returned with roses and a present, and from the looks of it, it was a painting.

"Red roses, your favorites! And a present," he said, handing you the roses as you eagerly opened the big gift. It's indeed a painting. You holding your daughter. You recognized the scene from a vacation you three had taken where you were rocking Hyunae to sleep while memorizing the sea in front of you. It was so peaceful.

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him.

"hyunjin..." You hugged him.

"Did you like it?" He asked with a smile while he hugged you back.

"I loved it," you said, your voice filled with emotion. "They are happy tears," you assured him as he placed his hands on your cheeks and stole a kiss. "I love you so much." you said, wiping away your tears.

"I love you too," he said, gently helping to wipe away your tears. "Now, let's cook?" You nodded, feeling grateful for the love and warmth surrounding you. Hyunae called your attention and you picked her to help with cooking.

Too much fluffy? 😅

Anyway, happy mother's day! Specially to my mommy 😍😍

[wildflowerluver]

can i req a emily prentiss daughter reader after emily “dies” and reader’s reaction to her death. angst, and then emily comes back and reader acts like morgan and is mad at emily, then fluff

motion sickness

emily prentiss x teen daughter!reader

the rise and fall of losing and regaining your mom

cw: character death, follows season 6/7 plot, reader has symptoms of depression, angst, yelling, grief, panic attacks, aaron cares so much for the reader

wc: 2.3k

༺♡༻

losing your mom doesn’t just hurt, it destroys you. 

emily wasn’t just your mom, she was your best friend. stemming from experience with her own mother, she made sure you two were close. 

the two of you traveled a lot when you were younger due to her job. but, joining the bau set permanent roots in washington d.c. you adored the city to grow up with and more importantly, you adored her team.

emily trained you like a profiler - on a much smaller scale, obviously, but you knew basic human behavior and safety. you were in highschool, she wanted you to not only be safe, but to be able to take care of yourself when she was away on cases.

you had woken up that monday to a note on the counter from your mom. you initially didn’t think much of it. she always left notes if she had an emergency case. 

you went through your normal maneuvers, getting ready for school and feeding sergio before leaving. 

it seemed like a normal day.

aaron had been the one to break the news.

you got a knock on the door of your home late that night. you were up late doing homework and if you were being honest, from anxiety too. your mom hadn’t texted or called. no contact worried you immensely.

turns out, your gut feeling had been right.

you don’t say anything, peering up at the agent with curious eyes as to what he’s doing here at this house. 

“i’m so sorry,” he starts.

three words.

i’m so sorry.

something had happened.

“we did everything we could,” the rest of his words seem to go fuzzy. if he keeps talking, you don’t hear anything.

your mom was dead. 

he didn’t even say it and you knew. her job had caught up to her.

he’s there when your knees buckle, arms wrapping around you to help you to the couch.

the tears come hot and fast, breathing becoming erratic as everything sets in. your mom was dead. she was gone and she wasn’t coming back. 

she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye.

aaron rubs your back as you sob. he doesn’t try and assure you that it’ll be okay because you know for a fact it won’t. all you wanted was her.

you don’t know how long you cry. the only thing you remember is aaron forcing you to match his breathing to back you down from the panic attack you were already spiraling yourself into. time doesn’t seem to be real, but that’s how grief is.

the one thing you know for sure is that you’re grateful aaron’s the one with you. he’s stoic and is, was, close with your mom. 

the second wave of panic hits hard: you’re alone. you have no parents and no one to care for you. you’re going to have to do it on your own.

you eventually run out of tears.

the numbness quickly replaces the weeping.

your mom was dead.

no matter how often that realization hits you, it feels like a fresh wound. you don’t know what happens, nor do you want to. all you can hope is that she went peacefully, that she wasn’t alone.

aaron stays the rest of the night and into the next day.

you barely sleep, a few hours at a time. each time you wake up, without fail, there’s the split second you forget what had happened before it all comes rushing back.

your mom was dead.

__

sergio gets rehomed quickly.

the cat had nudged his way into your room one afternoon. you were alone. parts of the house sat in boxes for your move. you hadn’t even dared to touch anything of your moms. the house was set to stay in your name as an inheritance. if you ever chose to return to d.c. it would serve as a place to stay. 

he jumped on your bed, pawing his way up your duvet to meet where your face was pressed against the mattress, stiff with tears. he meows, seemingly sensing your mood.

and you freak. 

you throw back the covers as you jump up.

“she’s dead, serg!” you scream, voice hoarse. “she’s fucking dead and she’s not coming back!”

sergio just sits, tilting his head.

you break.

looking at him reminds you of your mom. you picked him out, she chose the name. you couldn’t even look at him, let alone take care of him. it was just more pain.

penelope takes him in a heartbeat.

__

family friends in the midwest take you in.

it’s universal that staying in the city, in the home you shared, wouldn’t be good for you.

you leave almost immediately after your mom's funeral.

it’s a big gathering. 

agents from the bureau and friends in the surrounding area are there. the entire team, too. you sit in the front row with j.j. 

you don’t speak, you can’t.

staring at her coffin doesn’t seem real. 

you’re the last one to place a rose on the casket before it's lowered down. tears flood your cheeks and you have to bite your lip to suppress your sob. 

one kiss to the shiny wood and she’s gone.

the team each gives you a long hug. it’s a blur of ‘please reach out if you need anything’ and ‘you have our numbers’ but you appreciate it.

aaron is the one who drives you to the airport. 

you hold his hand the entire way.

__

life moves on but you change.

it marks five months since you left d.c. and the grief of losing your mom never lets up.

you keep the note she wrote the day of her death with you everyday. you trace the ‘i love you’ she signed it with more times than you’d like to admit.

to put it simply, you lose yourself after her death.

everything that made you you seems to disappear. school becomes an afterthought. you pass your sophomore year, barely, but if you didn’t you wouldn’t even care. your voice goes too. staying quiet is easier, better. nothing even feels worth talking about anymore. 

you’re grateful for the people who took you in and they do their best to help, but nothing replaces your mom. nothing will.

you get a call from a random number.

you decline it. you rarely pick up unknown numbers if ever. but when the number calls back two more times, you finally answer.

“hello?”

“is this y/n prentiss?”

you flinch at the last name but hum.

“this is erin strauss. i’m the bau section chief at quantico. i worked above your mother.”

erin strauss? you barely knew the woman, only hearing about her from your mom on the rare occasion she complained about her. why she was calling was beyond you.

she speaks before you can say anything. “while i know you’ve relocated, i do have a box of your mothers things here in washington if you are interested in coming to get them. i know this may seem like a postponed call but i’m sure you understand it’s a sensitive topic.”

she has no idea.

you didn’t know what she could have but you agree. you needed anything else you could get of your moms.

“i can talk to my foster parents and work something out.”

“great, i’ll see you soon.”

it takes you a few weeks after the initial call to make it back to washington d.c. emotions aside, you’re still a minor and flying alone needs additional paperwork. one of your family friends had offered to go with but you declined. you needed to do this on your own.

stepping off the plane, however, you seemingly regret that.

it’s been five months, nearly six, since the funeral. five months since you lost your mom. five months since you had spoken to and seen any of her team. five months since being home.

a car was arranged by your family friends to be waiting at the airport for you to drive to quantico. you ease back into driving in the city quickly, trying desperately to block out the visuals around you that pour memories in your mind.

it takes you nearly a half an hour to walk into quantico. 

seeing the building reminds you of your mom, obviously. you know that she has a picture on the wall with the same inscription on her tombstone, you had seen ones of other agents when you visited her at work. one deep breath and a swipe of tears later and you’re heading in.

when you had informed strauss of your arrival date, she made sure things at security were set. clipping a visitors badge on your shirt feels strange, like you shouldn’t be allowed to be here.

strauss’ office is easy enough to find with the help of an agent.

she isn’t even in there, though the box, clearly labeled, sits on one of the chairs.

you hoist it in your arms, fully intent on leaving the bau though the remembrance of the portrait makes you pause.

you need to see it. even in picture form, you need to see her. 

maybe saying hi to the team wouldn’t be a bad thing either.

you push through the glass doors to the bullpen, eyes darting around to take in the atmosphere you hadn’t seen in so long.

and then you see her.

she’s leaning against j.j.’s desk, laughing at something spencer said across from her. the team, aside from aaron, is out and mingling as well.

she’s alive.

your mom is alive. 

she’s not just alive, but she's standing less than 30 feet away from you.

everything seems to stop. the box in your hands slips out of your grip, clattering to the floor with a loud thud. if there was anything in there that was breakable, you were sure it had shattered.

all eyes in the bullpen snap over to where the commotion is.

you meet your mom's eyes, unable to focus on anything else. 

“y/n-” she breathes out, seemingly in equal awe at seeing you. 

your mom was alive.

when she takes a tentative step towards you, you take one backwards.

the atmosphere of the bau becomes suffocating. the months you spent mourning your mom's death was for nothing. she was here in washington d.c. laughing with her coworkers and she hadn’t reached out to you at all. 

everything is too much to process for you. none of it even makes sense.

you abandon the dropped box, turning on your heel and rushing out of the bullpen.

you take the stairs for the purpose of time. her voice calls your name behind you. in an effort to lose her, you weave your way between floors, taking different staircases until you’re back on the ground floor.

the fresh air outside doesn’t even help.

you avoid going back to your house. it was only yours because your mom left it in your name when she died. or well, faked her death.

instead, you find a hotel and check in. cash, of course. it would take penelope longer to track a paper trail than if you used your debit. 

technically it’s illegal to book hotel rooms for minors but, like with your safety, you were raised as a profiler. lying your way into a room wasn’t hard and you had no shame in using bau relations for further convincing. 

the second the door of your hotel room closes, you break.

betrayal takes over as the primary emotion. you buried her. she didn’t say goodbye and all this time you had thought it was because it was an urgent case. she planned to fake her death and let you mourn her.

the team didn’t even seem shocked by her return; the same ones who held you at her funeral and one of whom spent the entire night after delivering the news comforting you.

oh god, did aaron know?

your mom was alive and she hadn’t even thought of you.

__

you maximize your time at the hotel, choosing the latest possible check out time.

you head back home. that word leaves a sour taste in your mouth. it’s a 50/50 chance if your mom is there or not, but the realization hits that you’ll want, need, to see her.

the key to the home hasn’t changed. it still dangles from your keychain and fits perfectly when you slide it in to unlock the door.

your mom is sitting on the couch when you walk in. sergio purrs beside her, clearly ecstatic that his mom is back.

he jumps off the couch when he hears the door open, parading towards you with a meow. you, however, can only focus on her.

“y/n-” she starts again.

she lets you make the first move, eyes pooling with tears at the site of you.

your tears have long begun to stream down your cheeks. a sob falls from your mouth when you reach her, hands extending out to hold her face.

thumb rests on her pulsepoint on her neck. her heart is beating, steady. that feeling alone makes everything more real.

“how?” is the only question you can ask.

she holds your wrists.

“it doesn’t matter right now, i’ll explain later, okay? i promise,” your mom pleads. “i was waiting until things calmed down a bit before i reached out to you. i’m so so sorry.”

you press your foreheads together. you don’t want an apology. 

“it’s okay mom. i’m just really glad you’re here.” and you mean it.

the two of you spend the greater part of the day crying and holding each other. when you’ve calmed down, you fill your mom in on everything that’s happened.

you go to bed that night with her tucking you in and kissing your forehead like she always used to do. 

“goodnight y/n, i love you so much.” 

“i love you too.”

your mom is alive.

[equallyshaw]

presidents daughter x Jack hughes

•

slow burning little blurb😌

•

Warnings: angst, juvenile delinquency (but really a national emergency lol) swearing. nothing else.

Word count: 5.08k

bit choppy!

——

ophelia grace kennedy paced up and down her room, as she went through her foreign government flashcards. she was studying for her winter finals, now a senior at rutgers university in new jersey. she was getting a bachelors in international relations and a bachelors in french. ofcourse she'd go down this route, just like her family before her. it was now December 9th and her time here in new jersey would be coming to a close in a mere 6 days, before heading back to the white house for christmas and winter break with her parents. maria her roommate stormed into the room breaking the girl from concentrating and sighed. "what now?" ophelia asked, stopping in her step and watching her best friend grin. "we've been invited to a party in the city!!!" she said. ophelia growled, "yeah like my dad would say yes." she hummed going back to her flashcards. maria snatched them out of her hand, "screw the cards, screw pops and get your ass out the door in 20." she said without waiting to get a response. ophelia stood there torn, she knew she should not go but another part of her wanted an excuse to head up to manhattan. "but isn't it a 2 hour drive???" ophelia yelled out the door and maria only laughed. "that's why timmy is driving us." she hummed and ophelia cringed. maria had had a massive crush on timothy, her personal secret service agent since sophomore year. personally speaking, he was attractive; ophelia would not deny it. but she also knew she would never allow that to happen. besides, maria was always joking that timothy had a crush on opehlia and not one for maria. ophelia pulled herself into the washroom and quickly got ready.

•

35 minutes later the two hopped in the car that was waiting for them. "hi timmy. hi oswald." maria said looking at ophelia. "miss mendez, miss kennedy." timothy said looking through the mirror at ophelia. "good evening timothy and oswald, sorry for the last minute drive." she said honestly but he waved it off. as long as she got their safe, he didn't mind. the four drove about an hour and a half before making it to the swanky manhattan apartment. well, penthouse. "thankyou timothy." she said as oswald opened the door for the two of them. "ill be up soon." he said looking back at her and she nodded before stepping out. the three of them walked into the complex, and hurried up the elevator. "okay penthouse b." maria said looking at the text message. "and how did we get an invite?" ophelia questioned maria and maria giggled. "i might know somebody." and ophelia now smirked. "is he the one from 2 weekends ago?" and maria blushed as the elevator opened. "let me call him." maria pulled out her phone and the guy quickly picked up. "hey we are here, can you come for a moment?" she asked and the respondent quickly said yes. the three walked up to the door, and waited. oswald stood in front of the two, and the dude was shocked. "oh my god its ophelia kennedy." he said as he looked from maria. ophelia nodded softly, hating that he recognized her. "sorry." he said realizing how he was acting, and ophelia nodded. "sir, i am going to have to search the premises before miss kennedy can be let it." and ophelia sighed. "uh let me go get the owner, but that wont be a problem." and oswald nodded. the elevator dinged and timothy walked into the hall, coming up behind ophelia. "well ill leave you to it!" maria said as john pulled her inside, just as the owner came out. jack did a double take at the girl, knowing he knew her from somewhere. the secret service agents at his door, gave it away. oswald explained what he needed to do, and jack opened his door widely for them, his gaze continuously going back to the girl. "sorry about all of this." she said sheepishly, and she could feel two sets of eyes on here, making her feel small. "not a problem miss kennedy." jack said smiling. she looked up and met his eye, "ophelia." and he smiled wider, "jack." and he held out his hand. she blushed, taking a hold of it and shaking it. oswald came back out and took the first shift outside, and so timothy and her entered the penthouse after jack.

•

maria pulled her best friend towards the windows, shoving a drink in her hand. "thanks." she hummed quickly throwing it back. maria watched trying to hold back a laugh, as soon as ophelia finished it she went to go look for another. "don't follow me." she said to timothy who was about to follow. this was one of the few times where she demanded they let her disappear without following. "I'm not leaving." she added before walking off to the kitchen. some recognized her, 90% of the americans at least did. nobody bat an eye otherwise. she searched the kitchen looking for a seltzer or something and she smiled once she found on. "seltzer type of gal, huh?" she heard jack announce as he entered the kitchen. she stood back up from the cooler and nodded, watching as he strutted towards her and grabbed the drink to open it. smooth, she thought. "why thankyou." she smiled, and she leaned into the kitchen island. "ofcourse, you're american royalty, i might as well do my duty of being a good host." and she waved her hand in front of her. "no no, that's my dad not me. don't act any differently please. you don't have to!" she said and he nodded. "oh my god so it is true!" a tall guy said from the doorway. "if i recall we had to a project on the Kennedy family junior year of highschool and you were featured in it." the guy said causing jack to laugh at his brother's forwardness and then saw that ophelia was cringing. "that's uh that's nice. good thing we didn't do that." she smiled softly before drinking her seltzer. "oh yeah right...sorry." luke said feeling bad and ophelia just nodded. "well i should get back before one of my agents call my dad." she huffed as jack was about to say something. "who are you here with?" he asked walking out with her. "my best friend maria, who i think is seeing somebody named john. i have no idea though." she said walking towards her spot before. "oh yes! he did mention it. well at least he's american so he knows who you are and everything that comes with knowing you?" he asked and she laughed at his attempt to make a joke. "haha very funny." she smiled as the two walked up to maria and john. "such a nice place dude, thanks for letting us crash." maria said and jack nodded. "ofcourse, pleasure is all mine." he smiled looking down at ophelia briefly. "well if you need anything ill be making the rounds." he said to the group and then back at ophelia who nodded. he looked at her for a few more seconds before leaving. ophelia and maria stood side by side with john for the next two hours, getting to know him and learn more about his profession and who half these people were at the party.

•

ophelia found herself around 1 am walking out to the balcony that accompanied the penthouse and took in the frigid temperature. it was becoming too confined and a bit warm for her inside and this seemed like a welcoming idea. jack had been watching her all night as she interacted with john and a few others who had made their way over at some point. he took in how she laughed, how she interacted with maria but through it all she seemed guarded and somewhat closed off. but who wouldn't be when they had a pair of eyes on them at all times. he waited a few minutes after she stepped out to step out with her. "party boring ya?" he questioned as he shut the door, and she turned around and giggled. "not in the slightest, i think nico and i had a good 10 minute conversation in french so this is at the top of house parties for me." she joked as she came up next to her. "oh really?" he said quirking an eyebrow and she blushed. "john tells me that you guys are seniors at rutgers. what are you studying?" he asked looking down at her, giving her his full undivided attention. "hah, i think you can google it." she joked swirling her seltzer. "well but yeah i could, but i wanna hear it from you." he said sweetly and ophelia felt herself smile against her better judgment. "well just like every other member in my family I'm studying some sort of government. but mine is in international relations and then another major in french. i plan to work at the embassy after graduation." she explained and he felt himself smile. "my dad just about shit himself when i told him my plans. he was expecting me to do something else, let alone move to france." she added causing the both of them to laugh. "wanna run away from the u.s?" he grinned and she shook her head. "shhh my dad doesn't need to find out." she grinned leaning into him just a bit, placing a soft hand on his arm. "your secret is safe with me." he whispered grinning, and she recognized it as a sincere one. one that made her warm inside. "say, have you ever been to a hockey game?" he questioned, her hand not leaving his arm as they turned towards one another. she shook her head no, "oh wait! i did go to the 2018 stanley cup playoffs when my dad was a senator!" she said remembering now. "or whatever year it was." she laughed uncertainly. "i think you're right, but you and maria should come to our next game in two days." and she sighed. "good thing I'm done with finals then." she said through somewhat gritted teeth, knowing that she would not be going home as decided by her dad but she'd be staying in jersey just a bit longer. against his wishes ofcourse. the sliding door opening but she didn't move back from jack. "hey girl, we are going. timmy's being an ass." she said before timothy came into view and ophelia sighed. "well thankyou for the invite and a great party, jack." she smiled. he nodded, "ill make sure john gives maria my number so we can situate the ticks." he said and she nodded before walking back inside.

•

ophelia threw her overnight bag into the fire escape as maria watched from the ground. two floors up and ophelia could put her fear of heights away and hop down. she grabbed her second phone and walked down. the two looked at one another, as if to say 'are we really doing this?". ophelia grabbed maria's hand and pulled her towards the uber that was waiting for them. she had had enough of the two agents for two years and decided that she wanted to ditch them. besides, she had had a lovely argument this morning with her dad which untimely led to her hanging up one him; not wanting her to stay longer in jersey after her last final that early afternoon. so, this was going to work or not work, she didn't know but that was thrown out the window as the two sped off towards newark. maria texted john that the two were on their way there, and to not say shit to anybody besides jack. nobody could know they were coming. "lets hope this works and i don't get shot in the process." ophelia said shutting her eyes. "lets hope it does work." maria said squeezing her best friends hand.

•

the two drove into the underground parking garage and saw john waiting for them with jack. the two hopped out and maria quickly hugged john. "hi jack." she said sheepishly and he smiled, pulling her in for a hug. "where can we put our stuff?" maria questioned the two and john smiled beginning to walk the four over to the car. "thanks man, appreciate it." ophelia said. "wheres the entourage?" john asked shutting his trunk and maria smiled. "she ditched em for the night!" she cheered, throwing her hands up in the air. "hahaha. funny." ophelia said rolling her eyes. "lets just go before people see us." ophelia said pulling the three back towards the door. "lets get margaritas!" maria said as soon as the two were alone on their way towards a box that was filled with executives for the team and one that was smaller so they could blend in easier. "fine, only one though." ophelia hummed.

the game was in full speed an hour later, and opehlia found herself enjoying it immensely. oh, how she adored grown men throwing each other around, searching for the tiny black object on the ice. she made note to go to more hockey games because they were entertaining. she shamelessly watched jack throughout the night, feeling her attraction towards him grow. she hadn't been able to get him out of her mind for two days and this was only going to add to it.

and throughout the night, she thought not once of the outside world and who might be looking for her. back at the whitehouse, her parents were terrified of what could have happened. agents and police personnel on high alert throughout the east coast. she knew ultimately she shouldn't have done what she did, but now it was done. the game went a little too quickly for her liking, and the two stayed back in the box waiting for the two guys to come out. john had the idea of ordering in and the four of them hanging at jacks penthouse for the evening. the two came in with one trailing behind them as he was on the phone with somebody. "great game guys!" ophelia said smiling widely, feeling the two margaritas pulsing through her veins. "oh my god, she was loving it! she was so into it it was so funny." maria said laughing at the fact that she misread a call and got upset about it. "hey, its not my fault the dudes microphone went out." jack and john picking up on the situation. "ill need to hear more, but should we get going?" jack questioned and the two nodded. the five of them headed out towards the two cars, "wanna ride with us? were going straight to my place. they are picking up chinese." and ophelia nodded. "i swear to go if timmy or oswald or your fucking father call me one more time, i'm gonna scream." maria said as she turned on her phone. she flashed ophelia her phone and saw 35 missed calls. "turn it back off, they can track it." ophelia said and maria nodded.

jack and luke watched as ophelia grew quiet, as soon as they entered the car. "do they not know youre here?" luke asked and ophelia nodded. "oh god, please tell me were not gonna go to prison for harboring the presidents daughter?!" luke panicked.

•

it was around 1 am after many boxes of chinese take out and a comedy movie, they were all exhausted. maria and john moved to his place on another floor offering ophelia to come with them, but she said she wanted to finish the movie. luke headed to bed after they left, and so now it was just jack and her. "so why did you not tell them you were going out?" he questioned, turning towards her on the couch. their knees brushing one another for a split second. she sighed, thinking of what reasons he was going to give. "i wanted to be normal again just for the evening. i wanted to have a good time without feeling my agent's eyes on me at all times, you never feel alone. ever." she said looking at jack in the eyes. "did you feel normal?" he asked and she smiled softly taking in how his eyes softened as he looked at her. she took in how comfortable she felt in his presence and the warmth that he oozed, "i do now." she hummed before closing the small distance between them by pressing her lips to his. it caught him by surprise but he melted into it, finding the base of her back quickly; his arms wrapping around her. their bodies quickly not getting enough of one another, jack pulled them down the hall to his room. making the most of her night of freedom.

it was around 5 as the two found themselves wide awake talking, laughing, kissing, and falling for one another. jack pulled her closer to his chest, not wanting this moment to end. "when do you come back?" he questioned and she shut her eyes. "the 7th, i start classes the 10th." she said. he nodded, "how about we do something during my by week in feburary?" he questioned and she smiled. "its a good thing my classes are all online. ill talk to my mom and have her convince my dad." she hummed looking up at him. "its a good thing, she's got a soft spot for me." she hummed before pecking jack again.

as the two were starting to fall asleep, their breathing already mimicking one another they heard a big boom at the frontdoor. more like a crash. she quickly sat up in bed, pulling the blanket to her chest, gathered her discarded clothes and slammed the bathroom shut, locking it behind her. she knew who was here. "ophelia?" jack questioned as the master bedroom opened, to reveal timothy. jack threw his hands up, as more agents filled the room. "jack?" he heard luke call out, as they pushed him into he hallway. jack sighed, knowing his brother was ok. "is she in here?" timothy asked pointing towards the bathroom and jack nodded, apprehensively. "i swear to god if you touch the door, you'll regret it." she yelled, knowing he was about to or at least attempt to open the door. she slid on her socks and stood up, taking in her appearance. she sighed stepping out of the washroom, timothy inspecting her to make sure she was not harmed. "im fine, tell him oswald." she said looking at her most trusted person in the world, who nodded. "you're dad will be happy to hear we found you but he wont be happy where." timothy said grabbing her arm and began to walk her out. "let go of me!" she screeched, ripping her arm from him. she'd never seen this side of him and she did not like it. they made it to the front door and saw maria standing outside with john, "can i at least say bye?" she asked looking at timothy. he looked down at her, knowing that if he did so, there would be no chance with her selfishly. he'd been battling two years of feelings and knew she was slipping from his hands. he sighed, and nodded. "alone." she added and timothy sighed again nodding for the agents to get out. as soon as they did, closing the broken front door behind them she turned around. "im so sorry, i didn't think they'd come here." she said panicking. jack shook his head, "no no, don't worry. you didn't know." jack said softly putting his arms around the girl. he rubbed her back, "yknow id still like to see you after you get back." he said and she smiled. "didn't scare you away?" she questioned and he smirked. "not even close." he said before quickly pecking her. timothy opened the door, letting her know air force 1 was ready. "bye jack." she said before walking out and past timothy. she gave maria a quick hug before she was whisked away.

•

jack hadn't stopped thinking of the girl as christmas rolled around, and the texting the two did was nonstop. the two could not get enough of each other, respectfully. ophelia was a wreck as she was locked away in her ivory tower, not daring to speak to anybody but oswald or her most trusted assistant. the president took notice of everything, and i mean everything. he would go up to the personal quarters for the family throughout the day and would hear his daughter laughing, talking in hushed tones and sadly, sobs. she was only allowing oswald and her assistant to see her, as she didn't want to be anywhere near her parents. with the reprimanding he did once she got back, he understood. but he knew the history of the family and his panicking was warranted. theo kennedy walked towards his and his wife's bedroom to talk, he needed to confirm his suspicions. "is she really seeing that hockey player?" he said and his wife was taken back. "uh...i believe so. at least that's what kelsey said. the two haven't stopped talking since the night she was found. well actually before that too." she responded, and he nodded sitting down at the edge of the bed. "would it be wild to invite him to the christmas party?" he questioned and his wife smiled. "are you getting soft?" she smiled coming up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. "i think that ship sailed years ago." he huffed and she laughed. "she's our only child theo...don't push her too far and give her reasons to never come back." his wife whispered. "i get she messed up and made a dumb mistake, but we both know either one of us would have done the same in her position." and he knew his wife was right. they both would have done it. "ill let kelsey know." he announced, standing up and walking out.

•

though kelsey never told ophelia, knowing it would be a lovely surprise for her. ophelia smoothed down her silver dress that donned a bow at the back of her neck. kelsey inspected her hair and makeup, smiling at how perfect it was. "you ready?" she questioned and she nodded. she walked out of her room in what seemed like days. oswald smiled down at the girl, putting his arm out for her. she smiled looping her arm in his. "absolutely beautiful miss ophelia." he hummed and she smiled widely. "thankyou oswald." and the two were on their way downstairs. "ill be right down there, take your time." oswald said stepping aside and walked down the grand stairs that would lead them to the grand room where the party was. she sighed running her hands down her dress once more, as kelsey fixed the bow that went down halfway revealing the rest of her back. "knock em dead, sis." she smiled and ophelia nodded. she needed a drink, and pronto. especially after the amount of pictures that were going to be taken as she made her entrance. she rounded the corner and stood for a brief few seconds at the top looking down at the groups of people mingling about. oswald nodded at her, speaking into his earpiece. she slowly stepped down the stairs hoping to not fall flat on her face. as she looked around briefly at the people realizing she was walking down, she caught a familiar face. scratch that, four. and then it was as if more and more kept popping up. she whispered to oswald that she was going to greet the group of people, and as she looked over, she saw jack already making his way over. "ofcourse miss ophelia." oswald said standing back into position. "hi jack." she smiled widely, pulling him in for a hug. "hi opehlia." he whispered, a bit stunned by the forwardness. "what are you doing here?" she questioned pulling him to the side of the stairs. he shrugged, "your dad called me four days ago and asked me if i wanted to come. and that i could invite anybody i wanted to-to come along." he said and he saw the confusion wash over her features. "he did?" she asked in disbelief and he nodded. "is it too soon?" he asked growing nervous, and she shook her head quickly. "oh no! not at all, I'm just stunned a bit that's all." she said smiling widely. "I'm really glad that you're here jack, truly." she said inching closer to him. "ill meet up with you guys soon, i need to find my dad." she said and he nodded, placing a kiss to her cheek. her cheeks became crimson red, jack noticing immediately. she watched as he walked back towards the group, and then she slipped into a secret door towards the oval Office.

"ophelia!" she heard her name from behind and she knew who's it was. she stopped to look back and saw timothy walking quickly down the desolate hallway. "yes?" she questioned, and she saw that he was upset. "what is that guy doing here?" he asked and she was taken back a bit. "why does it matter to you?" she huffed, before starting her descent again. he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "are you two together?" he asked and her face became stern. "why would it matter to you, huh?" she spat while yanking her arm back. "why would it? have you not recognized anything?" he asked and he saw confusion wash over her. "what-what are your talking about timothy?" she asked growing irritated. "you musn't think that everything I've done for you has been just for my job. you really don't think that right?" he questioned searching her eyes. she shook her head, "timothy-" he cut her off. "have you not realized my feelings for you?" he asked and she felt dread wash over her. "oh fuck no, this isn't happening." she said taking a step back, putting her arms out to create distance. "don't go do this route timothy, please." she begged but he shook his head. "ill put in my notice, then then-" she cut him off. "if you think that i have feelings for you, you are certainly mistaken. what the actual fuck, timothy? don't follow me" she ordered, beginning to walk towards the oval office. she made it to the office, and shut the door behind her. her dad was at his desk, going over some last-minute items. he quickly looked up and was shocked to see his daughter back in the very room he berated her a week back. "first thing's first, please get timothy off of my service. secondly, you invited jack?" she said walking up towards his desk. he sat back in his chair smiling, and nodded. "okay." he said nodding towards his agent behind him and the agent left the room. "i had to meet the guy who's had nonstop communication with my daughter." he said and she softly smiled and then it dropped. "was it to make amends?" she said quirking an eyebrow and he laughed. "you're mother is quite the convincer and knows how to fix situations. good thing she's in my corner and nobody else's." he said and she nodded, knowing full well the angel (and devil) that she was. she sat down in front of her dad. "i do really like him, i think you'll like him too." she smiled and then there was a knock on the door. oswald appeared with her mom and somebody else. jack walked into the room nervously looking around, and then he found ophelia. he instantly calmed down, and she smiled widely.

"so you must be jack." her dad said standing up and jack swallowed hard, putting out his hand for him to shake. "ye-yes, jack hughes." he said nervously. "hear you're a pretty good hockey player, jack." her dad said and jack shrugged. "i'm alright." and ophelia smiled at his modesty. "heard you're good enough to make the olympics team and represent our great country." and jack was confused looking over at ophelia. "he loves hockey." ophelia said and her dad chuckled. "yes, nhl network is always on. just recently caught a segment on international play coming back so that's why I'm excited for 2028!" he explained walking back to his desk and shutting the small desk lamp off. ophelia made her way over towards jack and straightened his bowtie. "calm down, you're fine." she whispered for just him to hear. jack watched as he did so, a feeling of calm washing over him.

"who'd you bring tonight?" her dad asked breaking their trance with one another. "uh my parents, brothers, and a couple teammates." he said sheepishly, "great! we get to meet the parents, hun." her dad mused as the two walked out in front of them. ophelia rolled her eyes, "he hasn't been this excited in a few years i apologize in advance." she hummed and he smiled, holding out his arm for her. she looped her arm in his, and the two walked out.

•

the two made their way up to the personal quarters for the family a few hours later, showing him around the white house for a personal tour. "and this here is my room." she said sheepishly allowing him to walk in. she shut the door behind them and started to pull off her earrings that were beginning to throb. jack turned around halfway to see what she was doing, and she was making her way back towards him. he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her inclose and rested his chin on her head. "thankyou for coming tonight, I'm so glad that you did." she smiled. "ofcourse, i had to see the girl im absolutely mad about." he hummed, and she felt her heart swell. "and where she got her snooty attitude." he added joking and she rolled her eyes. "haha very funny." she said pulling back a bit to look up at him. "will you be my girlfriend?" he asked off the cuff and she threw her head back laughing. "points for throwing me off guard, but yes. i would love to be your girlfriend." she hummed and he smiled widely. he closed the space between them, placing his lips on hers. ones that tasted like whiskey and the comforting smell of sandalwood and cedar plagued her nose. she began to untie his bowtie, and as soon as it was undone she began to push him back towards her bed. she giggled as he fell back upon the bed, not knowing it was as close as it was. "oops." she said placing a hand on her lips. he smiled, pulling her to his chest, not being able to get enough of her.

__

ahh! i hope you enjoyed this lengthy and somewhat slow burning blurb, i kinda wanna make a follow up? probs will lol. but please like and reblog if you enjoyed!

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 7

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~2k

A/N: Reader is AFAB

A/N2: This takes place at the same time as Dream Come True Part 9

Warnings: Death of minor characters, Rough sex, Smut, Violence. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 6 -- Part 8

Series Masterlist

The next few hours mostly involve Steve pacing around his office. You stayed in the same chair you promised you would. As much as you want to calm him down you know this isn’t the time. Steve had gotten notice that Curtis had pulled Teach out of Lloyd’s hotel room and she was safe. Everyone breathed easier after that, but Steve was still stressed. For good reason, of course. Bucky and Sam would regularly find reasons to leave his office because his pacing and stressing wasn’t helping them, either. But you stayed in place, as you promised. 

“Why didn’t you have Curtis take Lloyd out at the hotel,” you ask. “We know he’s there.”

“Pine’s hotel is a neutral zone,” Steve explains. “If one of our people killed anyone there, we’d open ourselves to attack from all of the families at once. Cairo Hotel, any hotel under Pine’s jurisdiction really, is where we have our most important meetings and negotiations.”

“Which is why Lloyd is staying there,” you intone. “So Pine isn’t obligated to tell anyone about any of his guests? Even when they’re clearly dangerous?”

“True neutrality,” Steve confirms. “Otherwise there would be no place for real negotiations, peace talks, reparations, whatever. It’s important for business.”

“So the only reason Curtis was allowed to go get her was because Pine owed Ari a favor?”

“Well, there’s that,” he nods. “But also Pine has standards. He never likes to involve civilians in our dealings. The fact that it was solely a rescue mission definitely helped get Curtis the ‘in’ he needed.”

Your next question is interrupted by Bucky running in, “he’s at Ran’s. Let’s go!”

Steve gave you a kiss and a “stay here” before running after him. You have no idea when Steve will be back but you’ll be right where he needs you to be. 

Bucky’s team is first to go in. They’re the stealth team, taking out guards and others that might raise the alarm. Bodecker’s police cruiser is close enough to hear any gunshots but far enough to not raise eyebrows at the quick police response. If all went well, none of Ransom’s neighbors would hear anything. 

Of course something went wrong.

A scream from within Ransom’s house pushed up their timetable to “act now”. The slow and steady plan was under the premise that Ransom was having a conversation, not that he was being tortured. Bucky’s team focused on making a path to the front door before doing perimeter security. Steve and his team charged up the path they created to the door. 

Steve was first through the door, acting as a shield for his people came naturally to him. Quick firing to take out a couple of Rumlow’s men, he pushed forward, certain that his team would clean up if he missed anyone. Intel said that Ransom hadn’t left his office since his meeting with Teach so that’s where Steve led his team. 

Knowing that the people torturing Ransom were sure to have heard the gunshots Steve signaled his team to stay in various doorways as he knelt down to open the office door. The shots went well over his head and opened the shooters to his return fire. If he missed any, his team had him covered. 

Carefully moving forward Steve was able to confirm no one else was in the office. He found Ransom and called for a medic. The telltale sound of a police siren confirmed that they were moving into the coverup part of their plan. Sam ran into the office, carrying some emergency medical supplies, and started taking care of Ransom. This allowed Steve to look around at the bodies. He recognized all of them but quickly realized Lloyd was not among them. 

“Where’s Hansen,” he calls out. “Anyone got eyes on Hansen?” There was a lot of quiet. Steve messaged the Garbage Men, “Hansen is missing.”

Steve slams open his office door, startling you. He kneels in front of you and touches you almost reverently, whispering, “you’re okay. Thank god you’re okay.”

“What happened, Steve?”

He doesn’t answer and just moves you so that he’s sitting in the chair with you on his lap, holding you close. You start kissing his neck, your signal to him that he’s safe, that you’re okay, that he can relax. It takes a few minutes but he does calm down. 

“Lloyd escaped. You’re not leaving my sight until we’re able to find him.”

“Of course, Steve,” you assure. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Ransom’s in the hospital,” he reports. “Sam says he should be okay. He’ll just have some scars afterwards.” 

“And probably some mental ones, too,” you comment.

Steve agrees, “after he’s stable we’ll get some more information from him. See about helping him. In the meantime, no one goes alone and everyone is armed.”

“I take it you’re not going to be sleeping any time soon?” Steve shakes his head in response. “Then let’s at least get you some food to help you think.” You start to get off of his lap but he pulls you close to him, hugging you in place. “Steve, we’re going to be okay,” you coo between kisses along his jugular. “I’ve been sitting in this chair all day and I need to move. And get something to eat.”

He relaxes a little and lets you get up, but you make sure to not let go of his hand. Even when you’re both in the kitchen and cooking up a little something you’re making sure to touch him. Letting him hug you from behind while you’re working. Letting him know you’re still there and you’re okay. You know it’s the only thing that’ll keep him from going out and maybe getting himself killed. He needs a cool head and you can help with that. 

You’re both startled to alertness by Bucky running into the room. “Hansen is dead. Everett got him!”

“What’s the update on his co-conspirators?”

“Scattered to the winds,” Bucky confirms. “The other families have even agreed not to protect them. If they’re found, they’re delivered to us.” 

You feel Steve legitimately relax for the first time since he picked you up from your apartment. He talks to Bucky for a bit about the finer details of the aftermath; getting Ransom’s cover story for what happened, following up on the hacker who helped Lloyd, getting all of the Family members back safely. 

By the time he and Bucky are done, Steve is beyond exhausted. All he wants right now is to curl up in bed with you and hold you. So when you ask him if you should grab your suitcase to head back home, he nearly growls at you, “you’re not going anywhere.” He takes you into his bedroom and throws you down on the mattress before crawling over to you, wrapping you in his arms, and pinning you to his chest. “Mine,” he grunts as he takes in the smell of your hair, the feel of your skin, the sound of your chuckles. 

“I’m definitely yours,” you assure. “We’ll see about me going home later.”

“You are home,” he asserts. “Can’t be without you. Sleep better, feel better, eat better.” He kisses you with each item he says, adding weight to his words. 

“Are you actually asking me to move in with you,” your voice barely a whisper from his kisses taking your breath away. “Or are you just in a mood?”

“Hummingbird, you’re moving in with me,” he insisted. “Either that or I’m moving in with you. I’m not going another night without you in my bed.” He starts removing your clothing, “I need you. Need you with me every day.” He’s stripped you down to your panties, his eyes darkening at your form. “Please,” he pleaded. “Please move in with me.”

“Yes, Sir,” you breathe. “I’ve just been waiting for you to actually ask.” 

“Let me apologize for taking so long to do so,” he says before he kisses down your front, his beard scratching your skin in just the right way, making you moan. 

He rips your panties off and wraps his lips around your clit, making you gasp and arch your back. His tongue moves from your clit to your dripping pussy before his strong arms grab your hips and he rolls so that you’re sitting firmly on his face. You grab Steve’s hair to help you ground yourself as you cry out from surprise and pleasure. 

Steve knows exactly how to play you to get you to cum so he does other things, wanting to prolong your pleasure, wanting you to drown him in your juices. And he will get what he wants. Every time you try to move your hips or drag yourself away, he grips your hips harder, not letting you even wiggle away from where he has you. 

“Oh, Steve, I’m so close,” you whimper. He smacks your ass hard and you’re quick to correct yourself, “Sir, I’m so close, Sir. Please, please let me cum!” He gives your ass an appreciative squeeze, his sign that you had permission, before he hits all the spots he knows you need him to. He’s rewarded with your shouts of pleasure and a rush of slick. He doesn’t stop. Even after you’ve recovered from your first orgasm. Even when you’re begging him to slow down. He keeps at it until you’re cumming again. 

You’re whimpering from exhaustion and over-stimulation, “please, Sir. Please, can’t stay sitting up.” He spins you both so you’re laying on your back and he finally lifts his lips from you, his beard drenched, his eyes full of hunger.

“Tired out already, Hummingbird,” he chides. “Definitely need to have you here every night. Build up your endurance.” He rolls you over onto your stomach and gives your ass hard smack, making you cry out with pleasure. “Keep you with me, claim this pussy every damn day,” he says with another spanking. 

“More, please, Sir,” you cry out. “Please smack my ass again, Sir!”

He happily obliges, “can’t take more of my tongue in your cunt but you never get enough of my hands on you, do you?”

“No, Sir. Always need more of your touch.”

“Good girl,” he says with another smack to your butt-cheek. 

“Thank you, Sir!”

“I’m gonna claim that pretty little mouth of yours now,” he growls as he pulls you to your knees on the floor, making sure you land on a pillow he’d placed down there. Your mouth salivates as he undoes his belt and zipper before pulling out his cock. You open your mouth for him and put your hands on his thighs so you can signal if you need him to stop or slow down. 

He shoves his length into your mouth with a groan. You’ve done this enough times that you don’t need as much of a warm up but he’s still careful to not overdo it on the first few thrusts. You eagerly take every inch you can, moaning around his girth as he picks up the pace. By the time he’s grabbing the back of your head and forcing you to take every inch, you’re a crying mess and loving every second of it. 

Steve gets rougher as he gets closer to his own release. He grunts, “looking so fucking beautiful like this. Gonna ruin your holes every day and you’re gonna thank me for it.” You moan at his words and he slows down just a little, “play with your clit, Hummingbird. I know you’re soaked from this.”

He was right, you could feel yourself leaking down your thighs. You quickly start playing with yourself and you’re already so close to cumming. 

“That’s it, cum for me,” Steve groans. “Need to hear you cum before I spill down your throat.” At his command your orgasm takes over and you moan and whine around his cock which pushes him over the edge. Your pleasure grows with the feeling of his seed down your throat and you make sure to lick up every drop. 

Steve pulls out of your mouth and helps you get into the bed. After some gentle kisses and some settling of nerves he goes into full aftercare mode. He makes sure to worship you as he cleans you up, massages and cuddles you. As you fall asleep in his arms he thinks about the ring he has hidden away in his closet.

Part 6 -- Part 8

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @icefrozendeadlyqueen @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @leryg0; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 11 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10, pt.11

AN: Another one <3 She is very game orientated and action heavy. Bare with me babes! For the plot!

Synopsis: Closely follows the “Kill or Capture” mission from mw2 (reboot). Rights to the game developers <3 Word count: 2.5k Warnings: Canon divergence, canon-typical violence, military shit, guns, explosions etc.  Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign: Rags)

Not proof-read (sorry!)

✧˚ · .

Missions came and went and you slowly but surely found yourself shaking the nerves you had returning to active duty. Trainings and drills were back full force and each night you returned to your room with aching limbs. Ghost and you had returned to the unspoken routine of drinking tea in the small hours of the morning. The Lieutenant had come to relax considerably around you and was less stoic; his replies during conversation longer and more detailed than they had ever been. 

“There’s a briefing tomorrow.” He’d begun starting conversation more too, rather than waiting for you to break the silence. 

“Oh?” You reply, not looking up; eyes skimming the pages of the book in your lap. “What about?”

When he doesn’t respond you frown, closing the book and meeting his gaze. His look is undecipherable, cobalt eyes stern. “Him.”

You narrow your eyes, confused. “Him?”

“Makarov.” The name is spat from his mouth like he’d swallowed something bitter. 

“A new lead?” The team hadn’t had one in months. 

Ghost nods, playing with the string of his teabag. “Price think’s it’s solid – Laswell too.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, shutting the book and sitting up from where you’d been laying on the couch. You eye the Lieutenant cautiously, “I’ll know tomorrow won’t I?”

The man sighs, dropping his gaze to the table where he runs his finger over a dent. “Jus’ wanted to give you a warnin’.”

You can’t help but smile. This man. Simultaneously one of the most intimidating and softest you’d ever met. “Oh well,” you clear your throat, standing and moving to drop your now-empty mug into the sink, “thank you for letting me know.”

✧˚ · .

The briefing room has been rearranged so Laswell can video call in, you slide into an empty chair next to Soap who slings his arm across the back of it, allowing you to see past his broad chest. 

“Do ya ken what this is about?” He whispers to you as Price closes the door, you nudge him with your elbow; shushing him as the Captain starts to speak.

“Mornin’, Kate,” the man speaks to the woman on the screen.

“Morning John,” she nods back, acknowledging those behind him, “team.”

A few people murmur a hello, Ghost, who stands against the wall with his arms crossed, nods with a grunt. 

“Alright, assuming no one has breached our confidence, you all don’t know what this is about.”

You flick a glance at Ghost, he doesn’t even blink; watching Laswell with a blank expression. 

“We received intel just over 24 hours ago regarding the whereabouts of Vladimir Makarov – commander of the Russian PMC Konni Group and associate of the ultranationalist political party.” She types something into her laptop and a grainy image appears onscreen. You grit your teeth, ignoring the way Gaz and Soap look your way. 

“Though we belief the intel to be solid, it is too risky to make a move till we can figure out his intentions.” 

You swallow, almost relieved you won’t have to face the man behind your still-healing scars just yet. 

Price steps forward, “We thought you all had the right to an update considering recent events.” His eyes dart to yours before turning to the laptop in front of him.

“Instead we have orders from the General – a new HVT.” He hits a key and Laswell is moved to the side, images which can only be of the aftermath of a missile strike take over the screen. “Following our strikes against the Russian-backed Iranian forces and the recent assassination of Iranian General Ghorbrani a new player has emerged – Hassan Zyani.”

This portrait is less pixelated than the last, strong brows and a salt-and-pepper beard soften his sharp features. He doesn’t look like a murderer – though you suppose the dangerous ones never do. 

“We believe he has begun funding terrorist activity in an attempt to seek revenge on the United States for the strike which killed Ghorbrani, Shepherd wants as us to put a stop to it before it starts.”

✧˚ · .

You aren’t surprised Laswell doesn’t have much intel on Makarov. He’d only been known to Price and 141 for a short while before your capture. His motives were unclear – a grudge against Price was not a strong enough factor to kidnap and torture an SAS operative on an multinational special operations unit. It was as though he had used your capture to test something – though you weren’t sure what. 

“Wheels up in ten.” A voice interrupts your train of thought and you look up to see Ghost, decked out in his tactical gear. It’s odd seeing him in the kitchen, a place you’d only really ever seen him enter in more casual clothing.

“Thanks LT.” You reply, stuffing a handful of camomile teabags into your empty pocket. Though you drink them when you can on mission, it’d become more of a good luck charm for you to always have tea with you.

Though he’s wearing his hard-shell mask, you can tell the Lieutenant is raising an eyebrow at you. You brush past him, fiddling with the zipper on your pocket. “You coming?”

You swear you hear him breathe out a laugh as he follows you out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the tarmac. 

“I’m starting to think I need to carry out uniform inspections.” Ghost says, reaching over you to hold the door back. Wind tousles your hair as you step outside – the blades of the helicopter already spinning. 

You cast a look at him over your shoulder in disbelief only to find his eyes creased teasingly. You scoff, hitting him softly with your glove – not yet on your hand. “Cigarettes aren’t standard issue either, LT. Cigars too – Captain wouldn’t be too happy.”

If he replies you don’t hear him, the roar of the chopper drowning everything out. Soap’s waiting by the door and you give him a pat on the shoulder as you clamber into the heli. 

You’re being sent to Al Mazrah – the last known location of Hassan. It’s a short chopper ride to an airfield nearby and then a bumpy few hours in the metal belly of a military plane.

 ✧˚ · .

“All shooters have execute authority, but we want Hassan alive for interrogation.” Laswell’s voice echoes in your head, “And be advised, Major Hassan is A.Q.’s lifeline – if he is there, they will die for him.”

You, Ghost and Soap are running point on the mission with a group of MARSOC Marines ordered by Laswell to assist. A rough landing and a rushed briefing later and you’re in a chopper heading for the field. 

“Bravo team offloads here.” Ghost calls over the roar of the helicopter as it lowers to the ground, the red light casting an ominous glow as he marches through the hull of the chopper. “Alpha team stays onboard to land downrange. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill.”

You’re on Alpha team, Ghost gives you a single nod and Soap bumps your fist as they exit the heli. 

“Keep up, Soap.” The Lieutenant growls and Soap gives you a grin before following suit. 

The ramp closes behind and your friends are out of sight. The helicopter shakes and flares light up the sky. You make your way to the cockpit, the pilot is yelling into the comms.

“Incoming – Flares! Flares!”

The whole chopper jolts to the side and you just manage to hear someone over the radio scream “second missle!” when the world explodes around you. Fire and metal and smoke consumes you as the heli careens towards the ground. You dive forwards into the cockpit further, heart racing.

“Razor 1 going down! We’re going down!” The pilot calls and the vehicle meets the ground with a sickening screech. 

Not a single limb escapes the impact and flames sear into your vision. Something is buzzing in your ear and you hack out a cough, raising a hand to the comms.

“Alpha what’s your status?!” Ghost growls in your ear and through the haze you can hear the panic. “Alpha, how copy?”

You crane your neck, taking a quick inventory of the bodies strewn around – some still, some moving. 

“Bravo,” you manage to rasp, lungs burning. You lean over the pilot, fingers pressed under his jaw and against his neck. “Alpha is immobile. Multiple critical!”

Glass sprays as bullets spew in your direction, you lunge to the ground, swearing. 

“Shit!” You swear, comms still on. “We’re taking effective fire here, LT!”

You can hear Ghost swear back, “Alpha, we’re moving to building 1. Hold tight!”

You grit your teeth, you know he can’t just rush over to your aid. The priority is Hassan. You can hear Soap argue in the background but Ghost shuts him down. 

“Roger that, LT.” You reply, ducking as another round is sent your way. You fling a flash-bang back before popping up and returning fire.

You turn around, a young marine called “Red” has managed to pull the wounded inside and flagged the dead. You continue providing cover as he works. It’s dark out but the flames fuck with your night vision. The enemy has the advantage. You take aim at a small group in the treeline, gasping when a single bullet burrows into your shoulder. Pain flares and the impact sends you into the control panel.

“Fuckin’ sniper,” you warn the other soldiers as you push yourself up, “watch it, we’re sitting ducks here.”

“Affirmative.” One replies, from where he crouches near the now-lowered ramp.

“Alpha 0-2, Bravo 0-7.” Ghost crackles through your earpiece and you almost sigh with relief. 

“Tell me you’ve got some good news for me, LT.” 

“Building two secure,” he says by way of assurance, “We’re coming for you.”

“Roger,” you respond, signalling to the marine by the ramp to hold his fire. “Ramp’s down – we’re waiting for you.”

You stumble over to the man kneeling amongst the bodies, holding your shoulder as the figures of Ghost and Soap enter the heli. “What’s the total, Red?”

“We got five KIA and one wounded, not including you,” the soldier says, stumbling to his feet.

“Including you?” Ghost asks, as he and Soap come to stand in front of you. 

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, we need to move him though.” You say, pointing at the wounded soldier.

Ghost shakes his head, eyeing the window, gun raised. “No time. They’re here. Get your gun on that treeline.”

You catch some ammo Soap throws your way. “I’ve had my fucking gun on that treeline the whole time, there’s too many.”

Bullets ping off the hull of the heli and you return fire, struggling to see through the haze of the flames, your shoulder burning.

“Got movement.” Soap calls from your right, squinting through his scope.

“Engage!” Ghost responds, firing rounds at the figures moving through the trees.

You spot movement and move your scope to get a closer look. “Shooters at the wall!” You warn.

“You fuckin’ called it, LT.” Soap says, swearing as he ducks to reload. 

The smokey haze is impossible to penetrate and you pull your night vision visor back just as a projectile soars in your direction. 

“RPG!” Red yells, the warning useless as your very bones vibrate as it explodes agains the side of the heli. An arm wraps under yours, pulling you to your feet.

“Gun up, Rags.” He says roughly, already raising his gun. “They’re getting close!”

Your wound throbs as the butt of your rifle returns to your shoulder but you make quick work of a group of hostiles running towards the chopper. 

“We clear?” Soap asks after what seems like hours but is only mere minutes.

Ghost squints through his scope, the gunfire has ceased but flares roar. “For now,” he raises an hand to his ear, “7-6, call for fire. I want air on that treeline.“

He turns to you, “Air-support’s three minutes out. Stay sharp.”

The wreckage shakes with a loud thrum and you stumble into Ghost. He rights you, raising his gun. 

“They’re launching fucking grenades!” You cry, mirroring your Lieutenant, reloading and picking off the hostiles before they can launch more.  

Out of the corner of your eye you see a man fall to the ground. “Red’s hit! Man down!”

Ghost steps in front of you are you make for the marine. “He’s dead. Keep your gun up, Sergeant.”

Tears burn in your eyes. He was so young. 

You force yourself to ignore Red’s body as you take up his position by the ramp.

“Ghost, we should fall back to the house,” you hear Soap call over the bullets and explosions.

“Negative.” is the Lieutenants gruff response, “We clear this position and push hard. If Hassan’s still here, he’s out ahead.”

✧˚ · .

“LT, I spot armoured vehicles! There’s four of them!” A marine from Bravo team calls out.

“Conserve your ammo,” the Lieutenant calls back, “Let ‘em get close.”

The comms crackle, notifying you of incoming air-support.  You send back an affirmative, tensing against Ghost who crouches next to you as the vehicles are cleared – the heat of the explosion flaring as the heli rocks,

He pats you once on the shoulder and you wince. He doesn’t notice, gesturing you to follow and you quickly reload before moving after him. The rugged roads and graveyard of exploded vehicles soon morphs into fields and you flick your night vision visor back down, the light of the flames behind you. 

“There’s a sniper up ahead, Rags you take point.” Ghost calls as you run towards the second building. 

He grips your wrist for a second and you turn, gun poised away from him as you give him a questioning look. He gestures to a body on the right, a marine. Your heart sinks. You follow Ghosts hand and where he points to the rifle in the dead marine’s grip. 

He covers you as you sling your G3 across your back, prising the weapon from the mans grip. You quickly asses it for any damage and nod to Ghost – it’s in good shape. The Lieutenant follows, guarding your six as you squint through the scope. You can see a flash from the roof, something reflective is catching the flames from the distance. The sniper. Now knowing his position you find him immediately through your scope and take a deep breath before firing. The bullet zips through the air, the silencer giving a sharp huff of air. 

“Good shot there, Rags,” Soap clasps your shoulder and you flash him a grin. 

“Not just here to look pretty, mate.” You respond, moving towards the building, covering the squad from your vantage point. Air-support opens fire on the other side of the building and you take it was your chance to enter.  Now is the hard part – find Hassan dead or alive.

✧˚ · .

Taglist

@crosshairs773fp @alanalanalanalanalanna @ghostlythots @hyperfixationwhore @shinebright2000 @sae1kie @zozosrandomthings @hotaruteba @01trickster10 @karurururu @moonsua1 @rorel1a @http-paprika @thriving-n-jiving @lazybutsmexy

Reply if you want to be added :)

Masterlist

[ag-writes-stuff]

I Would Have Followed You

Summary: This was never meant to be anything, was never actually anything if you asked Rafe Cameron. This is the story of the almost-relationship between him and you. Was it love?

This beautiful song inspired this so I hope you enjoy it as you read along. This will be a series.

THE BEGINNING:

The sun pours through the small window in the bedroom as you roll over and snooze the 6 a.m. alarm. Most early risers are already wide awake, grabbing their oat milk lattes and gluten-free bagels, while your head is pounding from a bottle of wine and three hours of sleep. In an instant, the memory of last night's events floods back and you feel the agony coursing through your veins all over again. The pain still lingers. You remember that looking at him hurt. He’s always been the one to make you feel safe, but last night was different. It was as though he’d taken a knife and repeatedly plunged it into your chest. Each time you looked at him, the wound was reopened, the pain as fresh and raw as the first time. It was like death by a thousand cuts.

     “I can’t do this anymore,” he cuts you off mid-sentence. “I think this, us, needs to end.”

     You're holding a glass full of your favorite Cabernet and within seconds it’s out of your hand and on the floor. Almost as if it's instinct, you bend down to pick up the pieces. You hate messes and honestly you'd rather focus on anything BUT this conversation right now. You look down at your hands to see that your right palm is gushing blood. Why can’t you feel it? Why can’t you feel anything? You watch as he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. He’s moving so quickly, but in your world it’s like time has stopped. You stare at him as he frantically moves around the kitchen, grabbing anything we might need for the emergency room, and you wonder where the guy you met in college went, the guy with the soft smile and beautiful ocean eyes. You never thought you could hate him, and yet... You can’t even look at him. You never want to see him again, but at the same time, you don’t want him to leave. Ever. You’ve loved him for over two years. How could he end two years with four words?

     I can’t do this.

     The words are on replay in your head as if they’re a new Taylor Swift song that you're trying to memorize every line of. You think the worst part is realizing that somewhere, deep down, you knew it the entire time. You knew he wouldn’t be able to get where you wanted him to. You just hoped that you were wrong.

     No, you didn’t date. Technically, he’s not an ex-boyfriend. He’s an ex-something. An ex-maybe. An ex-almost.

Maybe that's all you'll ever be... an incomplete sentence or a book that someone put down halfway through and never picked back up. Finished without an ending.

[dynamic-power]

Steddie Time Travel AU, Back to the Past part 7

Part 1 | Part 6 | Read it here on ao3

1986

Two hours after Dustin’s voice first came over the radio, there’s a knock on the front door. Robin glares at Steve before he can get up from where he’s sitting on his couch and Nancy disappears into the foyer to let Dustin in. 

“What’s the emergency?” he demands as soon as he comes into the room. 

He’s a kid again. 15, if Steve remembers right, and he looks like it, too. He’s still in his awkward phase, before he figured out his curls or any sense of style. 

Not even a glare from Nancy could have kept Steve sitting. He stands, probably a bit too fast, and swoops Dustin into his arms the same way he had Robin. “Hi, buddy,” he says over the sound of Dustin’s protests being muffled into his shoulder. 

“What’s going on?” Dustin asks wildly when Steve puts him down again. He gestures between Steve and the other teens before looking Steve up and down. “You seem fine.”

“‘Fine’ is relative,” Nancy says, crossing her arms and sitting delicately on the arm of the couch. “Physically, no. He’s not.”

“Mentally, he’s not, either, but that’s not new,” Robin quips. Steve swats at her but she dodges him with a grin. “Look, Dusty, why don’t you sit.”

Obediently, Dustin sits in the armchair to his left. “Okay, now spill.”

“Why were you calling code red earlier?” Steve asks. 

Dustin’s eyes go wide. “Well, Mike and I were headed out towards the high school. We heard they found another case of peanut butter, and the Wheeler’s didn’t get one the other day, and the first food shipment isn’t expected in until-”

“Dustin.”

Dustin smiles apologetically. “Right. We found another gate.”

Nancy sighs. “I was afraid of that.”

“You were? ‘Cause it surprised the shit outta Mike ‘n me. We thought-”

“We found another one, too,” Nancy says, “but we were on the other side of Hawkins. Can you mark it on a map?”

“Uh, sure. With a big circle labeled ‘Avoid’.”

“We went into ours,” Steve says, and smiles a little as Dustin gapes in horror. 

“You did what?”

“That’s not all,” Nancy continues, and she tells Dustin what she’d told Robin and Steve while they were waiting. She and Steve went into the gate, and stumbled on what looked to be another gate, but instead of tearing into their world, it seemed to just tear into another version of the Upside Down. “Steve went in, and a few minutes later, it physically ejected him. Then when he woke up, he was-” but she pauses here, and Steve knew it was because she wasn’t totally sure of what had actually happened to Steve. 

“I’m not the Steve you know,” Steve says, and Dustin frowns at him. “I mean, I am. But I’m older.”

“What do you mean, older?”

“I’m 41. I’m from the year 2008. Something happened when your Steve went into that other gate, and somehow, we got swapped.”

Dustin pauses, and Steve can see the thoughts racing through that brilliant mind. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually, Dustin’s eyes go impossibly wide. “You mean like time travel?”

“Not like time travel. Actual time travel. And I remember when it happened to me, more than 20 years ago, too.”

Dustin seems unable to contain himself, throwing his arms up and flailing them around as he spins in a circle. “Holy shit. Holy shit! Do you understand the implications of this? That it’s possible, and maybe cyclical and-”

“Kid, we don’t have time for you to go crazy over this,” Steve teases. “We’ve got about a week, and we have a lot of shit to do.”

“Like what?” Dustin asks. 

“Like a rescue mission.”

Dustin’s face lights up with glee. “Who are we rescuing?”

Steve faulters at this. He remembers how much Eddie’s “death” had hurt Dustin. And for the teenager staring at him, it had only happened a few days ago. He is still trying to come to terms with the loss, still grieving. Steve knows Nancy and Robin are thinking the same things as they shuffle and squirm on either side of him. 

Dustin picks up on their hesitation. His smile disappears and his gaze zeroes in on Steve. “Who are we rescuing, Steve?”

“Eddie.”

Steve’s heart breaks as a dozen emotions seem to fly across Dustin’s face in just a few seconds. Disbilief, hope, pain, before he his face twists and finally goes blank. “He’s dead.”

“No.”

“No, he’s dead, Steve. He’s dead, because if he isn’t, then that means- then that means we left him, Steve, and we- we didn’t do that. We couldn’t do that. Steve, tell me we didn’t leave him behind.” Dustin’s eyes fill with tears and Steve reaches for him again. He’s still short enough that Steve can tuck him under his chin, and he does, rubbing his back soothingly as he begins to sob against Steve’s shoulder. 

It takes a few minutes before Dustin has calmed enough that Steve can hold him at arms length and talk again. “I need you to listen to me,” Steve says, and Dustin, red-eyed and hiccuping, nods. “We did exactly what we needed to do. Do you hear me? He was torn up pretty badly. We thought he was dead, and we weren’t. We still had a chance to live and we had to get out of there. We did, and here we are, alive. Eddie wanted that. That’s why he did what he did. So that you could be standing here, alive. Okay? If we had stayed, we wouldn’t have made it out.”

Dustin seems to seriously consider this for a moment. Finally, he nods again. “Where you come from, your time line. He’s alive?”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek. He wants to tell Dustin everything; tell him about Eddie and Barb, tell him about his own wife and kids, about the amazing career he’s going to have, the wonderful life they are all going to get to live if everything goes the way it did the first time around. Instead, he settles for, “Yeah. I don’t want to get your hopes up too high, but where I come from, he’s very much alive.”

Dustin’s shoulders set and he tips his chin up, looking determined. “Then let’s go get him.”

-----

The tag list is full. Come follow this on ao3! And lmk if you want to be removed from the tag list. Thanks for all the love y'all are giving this. 💜

Tag list: @clumsiluni @l0st-strawberry @aol19 @newtstabber @mugloversonly @cryptid-cuties @notaqueenakhaleesi @estrellami-1 @idkuhhh @f-llthevoid @pauphs @tinyplanet95 @therealscarletpumpernickel @feral-possums-in-the-bog @emma-elsa-0000 @stevesbipanic @alycatavatar @insteviewetrust @blue-menace-mind @romanticdestruction @hbyrde36 @jinkiesbiiitchhh @jezabella8 @xxsky-shockxx @livinginthesea @aliea82 @somewhereatdawn @jayree-3-lol @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @nailbatanddungeon @messrs-weasley @thebiblesays @hallucinatedjosten @platinum-sunset @theluckyalien @weirdandabsurd42 @phirex22 @marklee-blackmore @@nerdyglassescheeseychick @bird-with-pencils @skjachukson @yourmom-isgay

@grtwdsmwhr @sirsnacksalot @literalangels @burningbasementmilkshake @novacorpsrecruit @krazyperson @fancyorangepeels @m-owo-n @colidamae @wheatisstillwheat @im-just-here-to-watch-the-chaos @kjobriscoe

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Hello my lovely mutual! I've always loved your bear!Bakugou idea. I would like to donate some thoughts on it. What if reader is out taking a walk in the forest, and gets their leg stuck in a bear trap. Bear!bakugou rushes out of the nearby tree he was climbing when he heard your scream to see what's wrong.

Or!

Bear! Bakugou comes back home one day with a big pout and is covered in swollen bee stings. When you ask what happened, he mumbles something about "just wanting some fucking honey but those damn bees got in the way" while you out some bee sting salve on the many bumps on his skin

USHEJFHEHEJJEHTE SCREAMING AT POUTY BAKUGOU WIWIRJHTHTBEJEIRFHTBTB I’M GONNA HAVE TO DO TWO PARTS BC I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

Genre: kinda angsty? Idk I saw this and SPRINTED

Content: in which Katsuki got too pouty waiting for you to go to the farmer’s market and tried getting honey his own way

The sun was nestling itself comfortably over the horizon of your little wooden cabin, tucked quietly amongst the trees and shrubbery. Katsuki had definitely made himself at home, with the ever growing pile of fur he shed around the home, to the distinctly empty jars of honey in your pantry.

==================================

“Oi, where’s the fuckin’ honey! Got the damn cravings for tea again,” Katsuki grumbled noisily into the pantry’s cupboard.

You hummed in thought.

“Hmm, maybe try the top shelf? I haven’t had honey in anything for a while, so you must have had it last,” you called back, immersing yourself back into your TV show.

Katsuki rolled his eyes and searched even harder for his jar of delicious, golden gooey-ness. His heart all but fell out his mouth before letting out an annoyed yell.

“ARGH, DAMNIT!”

The yell shocked you, causing you to jump loudly at the noise and fall flat on your ass. Katsuki emerged into your shared living room INCREDIBLY pissed, poofy ears twitching in irritation. He paced for a solid 2 minutes, letting out the occasional huff and staring at you.

You stared back at him.

“Can I help you?” You sarcastically asked him. Katsuki grunted in annoyance.

“Honey.”

“Um. Yes dear?” You tried. Katsuki went bright pink at the suggestion and donned a face of anger.

“No you moron! We’re out of honey, and I’m fuckin’ cravin’ it!” He rumbled. You let out an “oh”.

“Well, I suppose we can go to the shop and get some, I think we’re low on milk and bread too,” you suggested. Katsuki let out an irritated sigh.

“You know I hate that cheap fuckin’ shit from the store! I want the good stuff from the farmer’s market!” He borderline fucking whined. Never in the year of living with him had he whined over something as trivial as a jar of honey! You sat up to face him properly.

“Katsuki. It’s Sunday. The farmer’s market isn’t until Wednesday, you know this! You seriously can’t have ate so much honey that we need another jar already!” You exclaimed in shock.

“Hey, it’s winter coming up! You know that I have to eat lots for my hibernation, can’t help what I’m fuckin’ craving!” He snapped back.

You side-eyed him before nestling back into the couch.

“Well, it’s either you can come with me to the shop if you’re so desperate for a jar, or you can wait until Wednesday for the market,” you told him.

Katsuki let out an angry yell before stomping outside, into the woods. You watched him curiously before letting out a sigh. It wasn’t uncommon for Katsuki to wander about the woods.

You just hoped he had common sense to avoid the hunters.

==================================

The sun was setting, and Katsuki was nowhere to be seen. It had been at least 6 hours since you had seen or heard from him, and the phone that you had gotten him was in his bedroom.

You paced with worry. Sure, he would storm out but he would at least be back before sundown. Maybe you should go have a loo-

The thick wooden door creaked open. Your head snapped to the sound before the angry grunts and pained snarls filled the air.

“Katsuki are you o-“ you stopped in shock.

Katsuki’s face was all swollen, multiple stings all over his face and hands. Even his poor little ears had been stung.

“Katsuki, what the fuck happened?!” You exclaimed. Katsuki only pouted.

“Just wanted some fuckin’ honey, but the damn bees got in the way,” he snarled lowly. You stared at him for a few seconds.

.

…

…..

All before you fell on your ass, giggling away.

“HEY, DON’T FUCKIN’ LAUGH! IT HURTS YOU KNOW!” He screamed back.

“I’M SORRY BUT I I-SKEJJDJDFJF,” you howled with laughter as Katsuki growled at you.

“DAMNIT! QUIT FUCKIN’ LAUGHING YOU ASSHOLE- OUCH!” Katsuki yelled and looked away, hiding his wince.

You settled down pretty quickly before a look of worry overtook your features.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Can I help you with the stings? I promise I’ll be gentle,” you promised. Katsuki huffed.

“Hmph. Fine.”

==================================

The next three hours consisted of you plucking out the stingers from his wounds as he growled in pain and occasionally whimpered (not that you let on that you heard him). After the entire ordeal was done and Katsuki was bandaged up, you offered to cuddle him on the couch.

“Ugh, fine. You’re lucky it’s near my hibernation time, else I wouldn’t be feeling’ so damn tired,” he muttered as he got comfortable on the couch.

You just smiled and snuggled back in to him.

[magicalmysteries777]

The Bloody-Handed and The Anguish of Loving Them - Chapter 6.

Summary: Almost a year has passed since Eddie Munson died and it feels like the only person that isn't moving on is Steve.

After spending the night studying a Dungeons and Dragons handbook, Steve is convinced he's figured out how to bring Eddie back. Not only that, but defeat Vecna once and for all too. Now he just has to prove it.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Masterlist: Here.

Chapter: 6 of 10.

Chapter WC: 4703.

CW: Swearing, brief drinking, temporary character death, and graphic depictions of violence, blood and injuries.

This story can also be found on AO3 here.

Taglist: @ohmeg 🖤

March 25th, 1987 .

“Will, wake up,” Steve yelled, shaking him by the shoulders in an attempt to snap him out of his trance. “Will!”

“What’s all the shouting about?” yawned a sleepy Dustin, leaning over the banister.

“Go get Jonathan and the others, now,” Steve panicked.

“Why? What’s going- Shit. Jonathan, wake up! Guys!” Dustin yelled, running back down the hallway to bang on all of the bedroom doors until someone emerged.

Jonathan came flying down the stairs and to will sides in a matter of seconds, the rest of the party rushing behind him.

“What the hell happened?!” asked Mike, his voice shaky.

“I came downstairs and he was just standing there,” Steve lied quickly. “Said he was ‘waiting for me’, but it wasn’t his voice. Then he went under.”

“It’s happened before, right? We just need to wait for him to come out of it,” stated Erica.

“How long has he-” Nancy began, cut off by Lucas.

“I think he’s waking up!”

The fluttering of Will’s eyelids slowed, finally allowing them to remain closed for a few seconds before they shot open, wide in panic. He let out a large gasp as a tear rolled down his cheek, his eyes closed once more and his body went limp.

-

They’d taken it in turns to watch Will throughout the night, each member of the party taking charge of a one-hour shift while the others slept. Steve took the first hour, spending most of staring at the wall, lost in his thoughts. Every so often he’d remember to check on Will, who (if you didn’t have context) looked as though he was having the most peaceful sleep he’d ever had; an occasional light snore escaping from his lips as his chest rose rhythmically.

After what felt like the longest hour of Steve’s life, Robin relieved him of duty with a squeeze to the shoulder and the instructions to “get some sleep.” He did not need to be told twice.

Steve bolted upstairs, his hand clutching the bottle in his pocket tight to his chest, and locked his bedroom door behind him. He felt the mask drop away instantly.

Letting out a large sigh, he opened the bottle. One mouthful became two, two became three, and three became four. His shaky hands now calm for the first time that day, he quietly placed the bottle on top of his wardrobe, hiding it behind some boxes just in case Robin came snooping again, and flopped himself down onto the bed.

He reached out absent-mindedly, his hand fumbling around until his fingertips felt the familiar touch of Eddie’s denim vest, and silently cried himself to sleep.

-

A small sliver of light beamed into the room through a crack in the curtain, basking Steve’s face in the morning sun. His eyelids fluttered sleepily as his vision adjusted, the reality of the day ahead of them starting to dawn on him. He rolled over and stretched his aching muscles as much as they’d allow him to before they started cramping up when a tap at the door diverted his attention.

“Are you up yet? Breakfasts almost ready,” Robin called.

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a second,” he groaned, his voice raspy and his throat dry.

Steve entered the kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast bar next to Lucas, his mouth salivating as soon as his eyes fell upon the many plates piled with food.

“I couldn’t get back to sleep so I thought I’d get a head start. Your fridge is looking a little bare now though,” Nancy admitted, adding even more bacon to an already heaping plate.

“Fine by me, I’m starving,” he answered.

“Tell me about it,” sighed Dustin, his head resting against the table in front of his empty plate. “I woke up to my stomach sounding like a Demogorgon.”

“Do you ever stop eating? All Dad does when you’ve been over is complain about how much of our food you’ve eaten.”

“I’m a growing boy,” he retorted, lifting his head from the table to stare longingly at the sizzling frying pan.

Steve scoffed, stifling a laugh as best he could. “You sound like your mother.”

“Here, before you starve,” Nancy told him, placing the last plate down next to the eggs and sausages.

One by one, save for Will and Jonathan, the party piled their plates and gathered in the kitchen to eat. They spoke excitedly amongst themselves between mouthfuls, swapping their theories and hopes for the day ahead of them. The atmosphere was oddly cheery, except for the brief moments where Steve would catch glimpses of deadpan expressions and zoned-out eyes whenever someone believed that nobody was looking at them. He was guilty of this too, his mind immediately racing to the one thought that he’d been trying to push to the back of his head ever since Will had told them his plan the previous night - or rather what he hadn’t told them.

Eddie Munson was going to die. Again.

He’d had his suspicions ever since he locked eyes on those blood-red irises in the woods, but he knew for certain the moment the description in the book had left Will’s lips. “You touch a creature that has been dead for no longer than 200 years and that died for any reason except old age.” You touch a creature that has been dead. Not undead, just dead.

How the hell were they supposed to look him in the eye, convince him to come back to them, and then kill him? The guilt of being the reason Eddie died the first time around was already eating away at Steve from the inside out and he wasn’t sure if he could handle a second time. The backup plan wasn’t much better. Killing Vecna and undoing his magic would reverse the spell that turned Eddie into a vampire, but it would also undo the spell that brought him back to life before he actually became a vampire. Either way, Eddie Munson dies right there in front of them.

“Steve?” Lucas asked impatiently, nudging his elbow to get his attention. Steve blinked his eyes back into focus and turned to him. “Are you coming?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Will’s awake.”

-

“Tell them everything you told me.”

“He showed me all of it, starting the night he took me,” Will began, the anxiety in his voice spreading to the rest of the room. The party sat silent, waiting on the edge of their seats for Will to keep speaking. “Mike was right about the stone on my necklace being the Spirit Stone of Azuth. He needed the stone back then for the same reason he wants it now - to open the cave. That was why he took me in the first place, but he knew back then that he wouldn’t get the stone from me. Kas was telling us the truth when he mentioned Vecna’s “grand plan”. Every single thing that’s happened to us since the night I disappeared was leading us into opening that cave.”

“What?!” left several mouths at once.

“This is going to be a lot of information all at once. When I ran he took Barb knowing that Nancy would get involved and subsequently, Steve. You come back into it later.”

Steve gulped, his hand subconsciously shooting up to run his fingers through his hair.

“He used Billy against us so that he’d be able to take Max last year. She was never supposed to die - He knew El would save her and interrupt the gate opening. He killed Chrissy to ensure Eddie’s involvement and to get to Jason. That’s why he killed Patrick too, to egg him on into poisoning the town against Eddie. He needed Eddie to sacrifice himself last year so that Steve would convince us all to come back and open the cave willingly.”

“So he’s just been using all like fucking pawns in a big game of chess?” Mike asked furiously, spitting his words. El placed her hand on Mike’s and prompted Will to carry on.

“There was something else in the cave. Something we didn’t find. Remember that red horn he showed Steve when we first came through the gate? It’s called ‘The Horn of Beckoning Death.’ He’s going to use it on the crowd at the memorial service.”

“I really don’t like that sound of that,” muttered Robin, her eyes wide with panic.

“You shouldn’t,” replied Will, his tone reaching new levels of melancholy. “He’s going to turn the whole town into undead creatures for his army. He’s… he’s going to ascend to godhood.”

Multiple members of the party cried out at once, their voices shaking with fury and panic as they rambled amongst themselves. Steve tried as hard as he could to make out one single coherent sentence but every word was drowned out by the ever rapidly increasing thumps of his heartbeat.

Was there a single string of words that any of them could put together that would do the nature of the situation justice? Dire consequences. Cataclysmic destruction. The goddamn apocalypse. Apocalypse seemed the most fitting. It was much, much bigger than them now. If Vecna ascended it wasn’t just the residents of Hawkins at risk - it was the entire world. Everybody was going to die and it was all because Steve had convinced them, his friends who didn’t deserve any of the shitty things they’d been through, to come back into the Upside Down with him. Every single time he thought he’d been helping his friends, he’d been driving them further down the rabbit hole that was their own demise.

The panic in the room wasn’t dying down.

Half of them were up on their feet, pacing around the room whilst they bit their nails and ran their hands through their hair. Erica and Lucas were squabbling between themselves as siblings do, unable to mutually agree on a single thing, and Robin was unusually quiet, presumably trying to process what Will had just told them. Steve’s thoughts were still racing at a million miles an hour, unable to stop himself from ruminating.

He couldn’t let them go out that way, not because of him. He had to stop Vecna no matter what. He’d do anything, literally anything, if it meant that his friends and his hometown would come out unscathed. Whether that meant killing Vecna himself or burning the whole of the Upside Down to a crisp, he’d do it. Vecna may have been able to play them all for pawns but there was one thing that he’d never be able to predict or understand. The effects of love on the indomitable human spirit.

“We’re going to stop him. We just need to figure out how,” Steve announced, silencing the room momentarily.

-

After an hour of swapping theories and ideas, they were no closer to a plan than when they’d first started. The only thing they’d come to a mutual conclusion on was that Kas and his army had to be taken care of before they went after Vecna.

“What if we collect the rest of the loot? Split into two groups and meet up after?” asked Mike.

“The loot isn’t a bad idea but we are not splitting up,” countered Steve.

“Why not? It’ll be quicker and-”

“No, it’s too risky. We’re stronger together.”

“I’m siding with Steve on this one,” added Lucas.

“Me too,” agreed Dustin, Robin and Nancy.

“What else is there to find?” asked Erica.

Mike fished through his backpack until he found the old game notes and flicked through the pages to find the answers before addressing the party. “A few healing potions, a potion of fire resistance, some scrolls, an amulet of misty step, and a couple of weapons.”

“Are they close?” asked Steve, his mind gearing into overdrive.

“There’s two healing potions, the amulet, and a great axe at Rookwood Ruin. That’s at,” he paused momentarily to cross-reference the map. “Skull Rock. The rest is at Wrym’s Crossing - the train tracks.”

“The loots better at Skull Rock so we’ll head there first and hit the tracks on the way back,” Steve plotted aloud. “Nancy can keep hold of the amulet. She can use it to get back to me if she needs to perform the spell on Eddie. We’ll come up with a signal or something.”

“If?” asked Dustin.

“If,” Steve repeated. “And that’s a very big if. I’m not sure anything I’ve got to say will be enough to convince him.”

“What about me? Don’t I get to say anything to him?”

“No, you don’t. You and everybody else will be busy with his army, they’ll have to be distracted while he’s restrained and, hopefully, dead by the time we get to Vecna.”

“I can come with you. I can convince him.”

“No.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because we both know what has to happen!” Steve snapped. The room fell silent. “Whether you want to admit it or not, he has to die again to be brought back. You’ve already seen it happen once, man, I won’t let you go through that again. You’re just a kid.”

“I can handle it!” Dustin argued. He looked on the brink of tears.

“Dustin-” Will began in an attempt to diffuse the situation. Dustin promptly quietened him with a raised palm and no acknowledgment before he began to speak again.

“Answer me. Why not?”

“Because if I can convince him, we’re going to have to kill him ourselves. You realise that, right? You really think I’m going to let you watch me kill a man?”

“You don’t have to do this alone, Steve,” added Nancy.

“Yes, I do. All of this is my fault. He died because of me. Everything single shitty thing we’ve been through and seen, it’s all because of me. I have to do this.”

-

It was dark by the time they crawled back through the gate into the Upside Down.

The party had barely spoken to each other after Steve’s outburst, opting instead to keep to themselves with their heads stuck in game notes or handbooks rather than risk setting someone (probably Steve) off again. It was only when they were cautiously dodging vines on the way to Rookwood Ruin that the conversation started to pick up again.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said apologetically, moments after dragging Dustin to the back of the convoy via the strap on his backpack.

“I know, man. Me too,” Dustin replied, fiddling idly with the compass in his hands.

“Not just for earlier.”

Dustin stopped in his tracks, his eyes locked straight onto Steve’s. “You know we don’t blame you, right? We all made our own decisions. We don’t have to be here - we chose to.”

“We’re here right now because I asked you all to come with me. We’re fighting Vecna, again, because of me.”

“We’re here right now because you figured out how to bring a member of the party back. If it was El gone and Mike asked, we’d do it. If it was Nancy gone and Jonathan asked, we’d do it. If it was you gone and I’d asked, hell, they’d have done it. We’re family, Steve. You do it for family.”

“I love you, kid,” Steve told him, a small part of the burden he’d been carrying finally easing. Dustin was probably unaware of just how much Steve had needed to hear those words.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, you soppy fucker.”

It was a long walk to Skull Rock and the weight of the books and weapons in their backpacks, along with the atmosphere of the Upside Down, were starting to weigh them down. Every time they’d been in the Upside Down it had felt cold, eerie, and empty, but since the moment they’d climbed back through the gate it had felt angry and alive. Bats screeched loudly in the distance and the usually dark sky flashed red with deafening cracks of lightning.

“How much further?” El asked in a hushed tone.

“Not far,” answered Mike, his free hand slipping to hers with a reassuring squeeze whilst the other clutched onto the map so that Dustin could periodically peer over his shoulder at it.

“I really bad gut feeling about this,” Robin whispered.

“It’s the Upside Down, Buckley, I’d be shocked if you had a good feeling,” Erica replied with a snark.

“For once in your life could you just not be a bitch?” asked Lucas.

“No, I can’t. Listen to me,” Erica began, turning to face Robin. “you’ve fought against Demogorgons, Demodogs, Demobats, and the Mind Flayer. You’ve been held captive, drugged, and tortured by Russian commies. Last year you threw a Molotov Cocktail right at Vecna while you made direct eye contact with the slimy fucker. You can handle a couple of zombies.”

“She’s got a point, Rob. Give yourself some credit,” agreed Nancy.

“Easy for you to say, little miss sawn-off shotgun. I’ve got the coordination of a blind baby deer.”

“You’re not that bad. Just a normal baby deer,” Steve teased with a smirk.

“Shut up, Dingus. You’re not helping.”

-

Once again things were going far too smoothly.

They’d gotten to Skull Rock with ease, Dustin, Mike, and El leading the way with the rest of the party shortly behind them. The loot was easier to find than at Karlach’s Cave, Jonathan pulling a tatty sack free from being wedged between two rocks a mere five minutes after they’d started looking for it. The second they had the loot in their possession everybody’s guards went up, expecting Kas and his undead army to emerge from the trees and attack them at any moment. They stood their ground, weapons in hand, but nothing came. The same could not be said for the journey to Wrym's Crossing.

“Halfway there!” Dustin announced to the group.

“Thank God,” muttered El. “Could I have the water, please?”

“Yeah, here,” Mike answered, pulling a bottle from his backpack.

“I forgot how dry your throat gets when you’ve been stuck in here a while,” Nancy said quietly.

“Here,” replied Jonathan, reaching over his shoulder to take his water bottle from his backpack.

In any other circumstances, Steve would’ve probably laughed so hard he cried at the sight of one of his best friends falling flat on their face. Instead, he watched in horror as Jonathan’s foot got caught on a vine whilst he was distracted, taking him straight down to the ground resulting in a loud smashing sound and the inevitable puddle that was forming below him as liquid dripped from his backpack.

“Shit, the potions. I’m so sorry,” Jonathan apologised, dusting himself off as he rose to his feet. He quickly checked the inside of the bag to check the damages. “Only one of them at least.”

The screeching in the distance grew louder and the lightning cracked harder and faster, illuminating the sky above them and covering the desolated woods in a hue of red light. “Don’t worry about that, we’ve got to run,” replied Steve, glancing over his shoulder.

“Tracks?” asked Lucas.

“Fuck the tracks, we haven’t got time,” he answered. “He’s sending them after us and they aren’t going to stop. We’ve got to get as close to the Rotting Tower as we can. Once they’re down, I’ll take care of Kas while the rest of you go after Vecna. You won’t have long. We need to get him while he’s vulnerable.”

“Here,” said Nancy, unstrapping a firearm from her calf and holding it out for Steve to take. “It’s a flare gun. When you need me, use it.”

-

They’d gotten halfway toward the Rotting Tower when a dark cloud of Demobats could be seen swarming towards them in the distance - their first sign of the battle to come. The low growls of the Demogorgons came seconds after, each of them knowing that Kas and his army of the undead could not be far behind.

Steve thought he was prepared but the onslaught was horrific.

The bats got there first, screeching viciously as they tried to scratch and bite with their razor-sharp claws and fangs. El was doing her best to hold them off for as long as she could with Mike circling her, his weapon held high. For the first time, Steve finally saw him as a Paladin.

The Demogorgons came next, guttural growls crescendoing as they charged nearer to the party. In mere moments every one of Steve’s senses became overwhelmed.

The panicked screaming, the searing pain spreading through the fresh gash on his forearm, the flurry of wings obstructing his vision, the smell of blood wafting through the air, and the taste of the sweat and dirt dripping down his face and into his mouth.

“Will, use your cantrips! Firebolt!” screamed Mike.

A ball of orange light hurled passed Steve, the warmth radiating onto his cheek as it passed was a stark contrast from the bone-chilling cold of the Upside Down. He allowed himself only a brief moment to gawk in awe before springing back into action.

A low growl and the sound of incoming steps had Steve spinning on the spot, swinging his bat violently at the Demogorgon lunging straight for his face. The nails made an instantaneous connection, blood spraying as it staggered back a couple of steps. Another ball of fire hurled passed Steve, the Demogorgon letting out an agonising groan as it writhed on the floor, its skin aflame and sizzling.

The screaming wasn’t letting up. Flashes of bodies moving far too quickly for Steve to figure out who was who or what state they were in were all he had to go off. Lifeless Demogorgons flew through the air, their corpses ricocheting off the floor on impact, signifying that El was okay at least.

They came in wave after relentless wave. Every time he thought the attack had let up another Demogorgon would appear, teeth bared and snarling. Hit by hit, the party persevered. Thick smoke from Will’s new favourite party trick wafted through the air around them, engulfing them in darkness as the smell of burning flesh filled their noses.

He wasn’t even sure how long they’d been fighting, his only indicator of the time spent was the sweat dripping from his skin and his laboured breathing.

“There can’t be many more of them, right?” asked Lucas between pants, emerging from the smoke.

“I hope not,” Steve answered, clutching desperately at his side.

The next wave didn’t come. They waited, weapons still clutched in their hands, for another onslaught of attacks. Other members of the party began to slowly emerge from the smoke, covered in soot, sweat, and blood, their eyes puffy and red.

“Is everyone okay?” Steve asked, frantically grabbing everyone and looking them over quickly for any obvious signs of injury.

“Fine,” Will sputtered, coughing. Jonathan gave him a quick pat on the back.

“We’re okay,” Mike panted, his arm wrapped around El. Her head was resting on his shoulder, eyes closed as she breathed deeply.

Nancy’s eyes were fixed on Steve’s abdomen. “Are you okay?”

“What?” he replied, confused. He looked down, finding his shirt badly torn and covered in blood. His hand raced to his stomach, feeling over the familiar bumps and ridges of old injuries whilst simultaneously checking for new ones. Steve let out a quick sigh of relief before answering. "Tis but a scratch.”

“What the fuck was that?” asked Erica.

Robin stifled a cough before letting out a barely audible whisper. “There were so many of them.”

“Where was Kas?” Erica continued.

“Forget Kas for a minute,” Lucas began, his tone eerie. “Where’s Dustin?”

Steve’s stomach dropped as his eyes darted around in search of Dustin.

The huddled-up group dispersed immediately, venturing back into the thick clouds of smoke scattered throughout the battleground. They called out frantically for their missing party member, desperate hoping for any kind of noise that would indicate Dustin was okay.

“Dustin?!” Steve yelled, amplifying his voice with shaky hands cupped to his lips. “Where are you, buddy?”

It was so quiet he almost missed it. A frail, quiet cough coming from a large pile of rocks nearby that was shrouded in smoke.

Nothing could have prepared Steve for the sight of a pale and bloodied Dustin wedged between jagged stone and the lifeless, dead-weight corpse of a Demogorgon. Steve rushed over and pulled the creature away from his friend, revealing are far worse sight.

Blood immediately began to gush from a large, gaping wound on Dustin’s stomach. Steve clapped his hand to the wound and applied pressure, his eyes brimming with tears as he frantically tried to slow the flow of blood.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Steve sobbed. “Guys I found him, get over here!”

“Hey, man,” Dustin replied weakly between coughs.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“We did good, right?”

“Yeah, we did good,” Steve answered. “Jonathan, hurry up! We need that potion here, man.”

“You gotta promise me something.”

“Nope. Whatever you’re about to say, you can do it yourself. You’re gonna drink this potion and then you’ll be okay.”

Dustin’s words were quiet and shaky. “I love you, man.”

“Dustin, don’t do this. You’ve gotta listen to me. Hey, listen to me,” Steve pleaded, shaking his shoulder slightly with his free hand to keep him alert. “We’re not going to lose you. I’m not going to lose you. I can’t, man. I just can’t.”

“Steve-” Dustin attempted, but his words got caught by a cough. A fresh gush of blood seeped through the cracks in Steve’s fingers as Dustin’s abdomen tensed up and his eyes closed, too weak to keep them open any longer.

“We’re gonna fix you up, go get Eddie back, and then we’re gonna go and kick Vecna’s ass together. Okay? Because we’re a family, kid, just like you said earlier. You do it for family. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Jonathan rushed over and dropped to Dustin’s side, thrusting the bottle of red, iridescent liquid into Steve’s hands as he did so. Steve pulled the stopper from the bottleneck as quickly as his trembling, bloodied hands would allow him and poured the liquid into Dustin’s mouth, urging him to finish the bottle as fast as he could.

The rest of the party came running over, shocked gasps and cries escaping from their lips are they laid eyes on the sight in front of them.

Steve stared at his unconscious friend, tears streaming down his face whilst he waited for the potion to take effect.

“Dustin, are you okay?” Steve asked, shaking him by the shoulder again. “Come on, man. Talk to us.”

Another quiet cough escaped Dustin’s lips, the colour returning to his face and the wound on his stomach healing rapidly beneath Steve’s fingers. The party let out stifled sobs and sighs of relief but none as loud as Steve.

He pulled Dustin close to his chest, squeezing him into a tight hug as he let his tears fall freely. “I can’t believe I almost lost you.”

“I’m okay,” Dustin managed to reply, his voice still raspy. Steve released Dustin from his grip and pulled his knees to his chest, his sobs growing heavier by the second as the sadness faded away and the anger crept up.

The smoke around them faded, providing a clear answer to Erica’s earlier question.

Steve jumped to his feet, the anger intensifying even further as his eyes locked onto Kas, silently watching them in the distance with a smug grin plastered on his face.

“We’ve got to stop them. We need to finish this, right now, once and for all,” Steve announced, not breaking his eye contact with Kas.

“Commence phase two?” asked Jonathan, the rest of the party straightening up like soldiers called to battle.

“Phase two,” he answered. “El, with me. The rest of you head to Vecna’s place.”

The two groups had barely taken ten steps in the opposite direction from one another when yells from behind had Steve spinning on the spot, his eyes falling straight to the heaped body collapsed on the floor.

Steve rushed over and cupped Robin’s hand with his own, holding onto his best friend for dear life.

“I’m cold, Steve.”

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Millie Bright x Reader

Part Two: Playing Pretend

Posted 24/04/23, Edited 29/06/23

Prompt: Part 2 to playing pretend gotta have Rachel telling off Millie - anon

Pacing Rachel’s front room, kitchen and garden with Dexi following you everywhere, you couldn’t believe what you’d just done had zero reaction from your supposed girlfriend. “Am I dumb? She didn’t say anything, just stood there like a fucking fish opening and closing her mouth! I’ve let her keep me in the closet for 6 fucking years! Everyone must think I’m a bloody idiot!” Unable to form a sentence without using expletives showed just how angry you were as you hated swearing without proper reasoning, this felt appropriate though. Maybe it hadn’t hit you yet but the pure rage you felt for allowing yourself to be silenced for six years overpowered the tears. The real you would never have accepted this from a relationship so why was Millie any different, why did you put up with that for so long?

You paused in the kitchen just long enough for Rach to flick the kettle on and plop Dexi into your arms, she hadn’t been able to get a word in since your arrival but knew having something fluffy to stroke calms everyone down. Grabbing the teas and placing them onto the garden table she gestured for you to sit with her, which you did for a few seconds before your restlessness got the better of you and your legs took you around the garden again. The eye roll earsplittingly loud as she went to rummage through her kitchen drawer and threw you a vape. She knew you were trying to quit but had left one here for emergencies and this certainly was one. “Drink your tea” she said with force to make you stop pacing, placing Dexi on the floor to pick up your cup without sitting down. Tutting at your actions your best friend stood up and directed you to the chair “Sit. Stroke. Sip.” were her instructions as you found Dexi in your lap once again “and then we’ll pretend this goal is her head” as she pulled her nephew’s tiny goal out of the shed and took it to the back of the garden. She always knew what to do and no one else gives better advice than Rach.

Downing your tea so you could get your feet on the ball you took shots one after the other, it was a good way to release anger. “Am I gonna get a go?” she asked as she soft tackled the ball off you which made you smile for the first time today. “Assuming she doesn’t apologise, I’m gonna lose you Daly” you muttered thinking about how she was Millie’s friend way before yours and will obviously stick by her number one. “Oh she will, trust me” as the force she hit the ball with made the goal fall over. Standing there looking defeated your mind started to wander, you wouldn’t just lose your girlfriend you’d also lose your best friend too. “Yeah but what if-“ you started but was swiftly interrupted “no ‘what if’, she will. I’ve been telling her from the start it’s not fair on you, I’m on your side” passing the ball back to you. The anger had left your body slightly knowing you at least had one person in your corner as you swapped from shooting to keepie uppies. You didn’t know that she’d been telling Millie this was wrong from the beginning which somehow hurt even more knowing she ignored her best friend’s advice too. You’d been gone for hours and she still hadn’t reached out.

The next morning while you were still asleep Rachel went round to Millie’s house. The last thing Millie expected was her best friend at the front door at 7am with a face like thunder. “Do we have a date today that I’ve forgotten?” Millie asked rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “What the actual fuck?” Millie’s eyes turned to shock as she didn’t imagine this first thing in the morning. “You don’t think I know exactly what you’ve done and you’re here acting like it’s just another day, are you fucking serious?” Millie looked down at her feet as she visibly gulped, she hates being told off but is the first to give anyone else an earful. The silence was deafening as Rachel saw the same face you did yesterday, mouth opening and closing, she knew how you felt when she didn’t say anything. “Do you really have nothing to say?” the face of disgust from Rachel wondered who the hell the person was in front of her. Walking straight past Millie to the kitchen she done exactly the same thing that she did for you, flicking the kettle on and brought teas to the sofa. “Talk.” she said with the thump of the full cup hitting the table, not giving her the same luxury of comfort in her presence as she did you.

Wrapping both hands around the cup Millie began to talk “it’s just, the longer it went on the harder it became to tell people. I just thought it’d be easier this way” she said quietly. “Did you not think for a second how that would affect (y/n) Mill?” Rachel was determined to fight your corner and knew she would eventually win her over. “Well, she seemed okay with it. I didn’t know it affected her that much” Millie shrugged which rubbed Rachel the wrong way. The body language giving off a ‘don’t care’ attitude. “Really? I’ve been telling you for years, imagine the shoe was on the other foot. How would you feel if someone kept you a secret for 6 years?” sinking into the corner of the sofa and crossing her legs. “Yeah but-“ “no buts Mills, she told you she wants to marry you and you said nothing. How would you feel?” defiant in her stance she wasn’t going to leave until Millie came round. “Pretty shitty I guess” she said looking into her cup. “It’s not just telling everyone she’s my girlfriend though, I’ve never actually come out to anyone apart from you. Nobody knows I like girls too” she said which made Rach a little softer in her approach. “If she knew that she would have helped you with it, she would have supported you with that. Not pretending you’re in a relationship with a man to hide the fact you’re bi babe, that’s not okay.” Millie looked pensive as the first tears she’d shed over this situation started to flow, Rach’s hand reached for the tissues and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. “So are you gonna fight for her or let her go?”

Part Three

[xreaderbooks]

The Shadows of Our Love |5|

Chapter 5 | In the Shadow of Truth

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader, Platonic! Ominis x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood purity

Summary: Y/n and Ominis have a conversation

Playlist

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Chapter 4 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 6

Multicolored puffskeins were at your feet, bouncing on your legs and vying for your attention, much like the rest of the beasts in the forest vivarium. You spent your Thursday afternoon in the Room of Requirement after a frustrating class on Ancient Runes, at this point, you didn't know why you had signed up for the bloody class. You overestimated your ability to pay attention, thinking that your slight interest in the subject would mean you would actually listen to the droning of the Professor.

The time you spent with your beasts as a form of procrastination was therapeutic, alas, your time was ending and you would have to do your homework for potions soon.

You fed and pet every single one of the exotic creatures to the point where you had feathers and fur all over you. It wasn't until Deek had emerged from the entrance to tell you that you had a letter, that you let out a heavy breath and decided to stop lingering.

With your final goodbyes to your adorable animals, you stepped through the portal back to the large room where the house elf handed you the letter. 

Y/n,

Whenever you are available, I would like to study with you in the Undercroft. I will be skipping dinner waiting for your arrival.

Ominis

Interesting...

You and Ominis were on speaking terms, more than just classmates but not exactly besties on the level that he and Sebastian were on. It pleased you to know that he wanted to hang out, officially, that is.

The two of you had a bit of a rough start in the beginning, especially with the way you enabled Sebastian at times with his quest to save Anne, you wouldn't have and didn't blame him for his response to everything that went down so you were happy to refresh the page and start anew.

You changed into a different set of robes and sprayed yourself with your floral-scented perfume to hide the stench of the animals you spent half the day with.

~~~

"Knock knock," You voiced out into the secret room as the metal gates to the Undercroft shut with a clamber.

"Y/n?" Ominis said on a wooden desk he must have conjured since it wasn't there before.

"I must say I was quite surprised to receive your owl, Omi," You walked over to him and settled your writing tools for the essay you were going to force yourself to work on.

His eyes narrowed at the nickname.

"Right, that was weird," You cringed and slid into the seat across from him. "Sorry, wanted to try it out."

"Not your best, I must say," His lips quirked upward. "Shall we get started?"

"We shall," You unrolled the scroll of parchment and your advanced potions textbook. "What are you working on?"

"Practice test for Charms, Professor Ronen just assigned it today but I want to get it done as soon as possible, who knows when the man will spring up his practice quiz."

You were familiar with Professor Ronen and his spontaneity, always the one to make sure his students were actually paying attention in his class, he would give you a practice exam to review and give you all homework credit for it but it was also a warning for his pop quizzes he frequently liked to give.

"Oh! I have mine with me if you'd like to just copy off mine and study later?" You offered. You brought your satchel with all the books of assignments you have and have not completed.

Ominis appeared thoughtful and declined, "That's alright, I prefer to study the material given to me actually. It was kind of you to offer."

"Not at all," You smiled at the fact that you were getting to know little details like this about Ominis.

~~~

A full hour of work, the Undercroft echoed with the scribbles of your quills on parchment and the turning of textbook pages. Not at all as awkward as you thought it was going to be when you were heading over here.

The only times you would talk to Ominis were when you were both surrounded by people, in the Great Hall or in class, the both of you gravitated toward each other in a room full of classmates who hadn't been through the same experiences and grief- all thanks to Sebastian.

You thought that being alone with him without Sebastian's impending doom looming over the both of you, would be tense but it hasn't been.

Ominis worked on his assignment, while you worked on yours- 12 inches of parchment on Everlasting Elixirs. It was due next week Monday and you knew that you had to get started on it somehow if not, by the time you actually put the effort in, it would take you til the morning of the due date to finish.

That was stress you did not need when you were already worried about sodding Ancient Runes class.

"Is something the matter, Y/n?" Ominis broke the silence.

"W- Yes, I am." You were surprised by the question, "Do I not seem alright?"

"You're very quiet, well you are quiet but you're thinking so much, I can almost hear it." He chuckled lightly as he said it. "As a matter of fact, you've been quite pensive these past few weeks."

"Have I?"

"I'm blind Y/n, that does not mean that I do not notice such things." He sits up straighter, "Your other friends may not have seen it, that lot has always been more extroverted but so were you, last year. Not as much but still I can feel it when I'm around you, it's as if you're less enthused."

You rolled your eyes with a smile, he cared. It was a little bit of a shock to know that he did but it warmed your heart.

"I have a confession to make," He started. 

"Do tell," You placed your elbows on the table and leaned in, curiously awaiting.

"You mustn't tell anyone," He says with a stern tone. "Not even Sebastian."

You snorted in an unladylike manner, "Done."

He inhales, and confesses, "I'm a legilimens."

Your face contorted in confusion, your silence gave it away before you had to ask what that was. You had only been a part of the Wizarding world for a school year, you didn't know much besides what you had encountered and learned about last year.

"It's a person who can read the thoughts of others, I can look into your mind and find your deepest memories, even read your thoughts at present if I wanted to."

"Are you trying to tell me that you read my mind?" You didn't know how you felt about that. "That's what all the concern is about."

"I- Well, no. I wasn't lying when I said I felt the way your energy has changed. It's not something I can control or practice often, though I should."

"Is it something that you learned or were you born with it?" Had he always been able to do that and just now said something because he heard something that drew him to be worried?

"Wizards and Witches can learn and master it but for me, it was a trait passed down from my ancestor, I choose not to use the ability," His voice was tight as he explained. "Your thoughts were loud, I didn't mean to intrude, I'm telling you this because I want to trust you. I want you to trust me as well. I know you and Sebastian are still not speaking-"

"I was wondering when you were going to bring him up," You sighed. "How is he, by the way? Since we're on the subject."

"He's Sebastian, complicated and stubborn" He answered. "This was never about him, point is, I've noticed over the course of a few weeks that you haven't been yourself and was wondering if there was anything I can do to assist."

You crossed your arms and leaned on the back of your chair, "While I appreciate the concern, I am quite alright, Ominis."

"You know, Sebastian and Anne have been a better family to me than my actual blood. They had no hate in their hearts, they held no judgment on me and the beliefs of my family." He cleared his throat, "I was gutted at what had happened to Anne and the path that Sebastian took to try and save her. That drove a wedge between him and me, as you've witnessed. Dark magic is not something I could ever resort to, you know this, ever. Not even for someone I consider a brother, so trust me when I say I meant no offense when I heard your thoughts."

"I know, Ominis," You said in a light tone to ease his mind. You weren't upset at him for accidentally reading your mind, it caught you off-guard and you were just grateful you weren't thinking something embarrassing.

"So your parents are racist," you joked to ease the tension. "To be expected with the whole Slytherin thing, pureblood supremacy and all that, obviously not your thing." 

"A never-ending fight," He exhaled. "I never asked- not that it matters but where are you from?"

"I'm muggle-born," You shrugged. "I had shown signs of having some magical ability when I was a child but my parents were visibly uncomfortable whenever I showed signs so I just held it in, kind of trained myself to ignore the urges, and even went to a muggle primary and secondary school."

His eyebrows quirked at the information, how different the two of you are.

You continued, "It got to the point where I just couldn't hold it anymore and everything just burst out of me. At the worst time, might I add, in the middle of the class- everyone fell out of their desks. I was nervous for a presentation and everyone was overwhelming me with questions, With all the build-up from never being released, I just exploded. Freaked my parents out, by some miracle of fate, I heard a pair of wizards buzzing on about Hogwarts and so I wrote a letter to Professor Black and here I am."

Ominis blinked, processing the information, "Fate was right to bring you here. I'm not my parents but just be glad you're in Slytherin, that's the only prejudice I will take part in though you do spend a great amount of time with Gryffindors, I'm not so sure the sorting hat made the right choice."

You reach over the table and push his shoulder lightly, he laughed breathlessly in his seat.

"I'll have you know, a Gryffindor could never get out of the skirmishes I have, and that's all thanks to my cunning." 

"Or sheer luck," He murmured. 

You tossed your quill at his chest, "Oh, stuff it."

~~~

Chapter 6

Leave a comment or Message if you'd like to be tagged

Taglist:

@vanivivs - @aqueennia

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter Three

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter Three Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 3173 Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, graphic descriptions of dead bodies, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.

Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.

Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.

Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Epilogue

~~~

Spencer stared hard at the map of Manhattan that was pinned to the board, eyes flickering between each location the bodies were found at. He'd circled them, hoping to visualise some sort of map or pattern between the kill spots, but nothing emerged to his despair.

He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. The team had gone to their hotel soon after his outburst at Holt, but he'd been back in since around six o'clock. He checked his wristwatch. Quarter-to-eight it read.

'You're in early.'

Spencer swivelled around at the sound of Hotch entering the room, the rest of team following closely behind. JJ held two coffees in hand, walking around the big table in the middle of the room to hand one to him. He didnt know how JJ knew he needed the caffeine, but he smiled gratefully nonetheless and took the hot brew from her hands.

'Yeah,' he said after a deep sip, scrunching his nose slightly at the slight bitter taste he detected. It was sweet, but not sweet enough. 'I... couldn't sleep.'

How could he, when his whole world had been turned upside down in the span of a couple of hours? You were risking your life - had been for eleven months already. He wanted this case to be over, and sleeping in his uncomfortable hotel bed while you were constantly looking over your shoulder was not going to help make that happen.

The way his friends looked at him now only confirmed that he looked a little worse for wear. But before anyone could comment, Hotch intervened.

'Where are we on the unsub's comfort zone, Reid?' Hotch asked, looking at the map over Spencer's shoulder.

Spencer was grateful for the change in topic, and turned around to point at the map with one hand, the other still cradling his coffee. 'I marked out where each body was found in relation to their establishment,' he explained, pointing at each marked spot for emphasis. 'Unfortunately, they range from up to downtown, even the Upper Eastside to SoHo. Geography doesn't seem to be a factor in the killings. What does seem to be a factor, however, is that all the other girls, like Roxy, were killed either outside or not far from where they worked.'

'That could speak to the unsub wanting to deliver a message,' JJ suggested. 'If the unsub is someone who has been double-crossed by these girls or the establishments, maybe their deaths are a warning.'

'Penelope said she couldn't find anything on these girls prior to their employment,' Kate said, reading a text off her phone no doubt from the technical analyst herself. 'Y/N's intel was correct. These girls were like ghosts, but like, before they had a life.'

'They had to have come from somewhere,' Rossi said. 'They couldn't have just... invented these girls.'

'No...' Derek trailed off, hand reaching for his jean pocket. '...but they can be reinvented.'

'What do you mean?' JJ asked, but Spencer's brain worked faster than Derek's mouth.

'From the initial notes from each body find, we know all girls were quite loyal and involved with the establishment's business,' Spencer answered, feeling reinvigorated suddenly. Or maybe that was just the coffee. 'They would've had to have been isolated for a few years prior to their re-emergence back into society to be that conditioned to their owner's orders.'

'Most of these girls were around seventeen and eighteen when they started working,' Kate said. 'That's when girls usually establish their independence from families.'

'But these girls have stayed as they've entered their twenties,' Hotch noted.

'Which means they would've been taken away from society before they could figure out how to be independent.' Derek's finger pressed a speed dial button - the first person on Derek Morgan's list for all things knowledgeable.

'Greetings my love,' Penelope greeted, her perkiness like another shot of espresso in Spencer's system. 'Did you see my good morning text with all my notes - and by all of them, I mean nothing - on the girls' history? Sent with love.'

'We did, baby girl,' he answered. 'But we might have a new lead to go on and we need your help.'

'You've rubbed the lamp, and as the genie I am now at your command. What do you need to know?'

'See if you can find any missing child records from over the last decade, particularly girls,' Derek said.

'They might not be made by parents, per say,' Spencer quickly added. 'The seller is choosing girls he knows people won't look too hard for. They'll be low-risk victims, so look up any mysterious disappearances from homeless communities and even unofficial orphanages and shelters in the New York state.'

'Boy Wonder, you certainly live up to your name,' Penelope quipped, the soft pattering of her frantic typing filling the room for a moment before she stopped. 'Aha! There have been over fifty girls who've gone missing over the past decade that fit those perimeters. I almost missed some of them because they weren't officially reported, but they popped up in local newspaper adverts noting certain kids in their community had been missing for a while. I've just sent a list of places they all went missing from to your phones.'

Another flurry of fingers flying over her keyboard and she spoke again. 'And if you look at your tablets, you will find the picture a young girl, aged twelve, gone missing from a trip to an aquarium with her orphanage. A Missy Wright. She had a record for running away and hiding, so when she wasn't found after twenty four hours, police disbanded the search party and declared her a runaway. But does she look familiar at all to you?'

Spencer looked over JJ's shoulder as she looked at her own tablet, seeing the similarities before anyone else did. 'That's Roxy Vega,' he said.

'I'm running out of gold stars to give you, Boy Wonder,' Penelope quipped. 'I'll try and find more pictures of the dead girls and match them with any of the missing girls on my list.'

'Thank you mama, you're best,' Derek said.

'I know, sugar,' Penelope replied before ending the call promptly.

'Let's go talk to those establishments, particularly Roxy's old orphanage,' Hotch announced. 'Let's cover as many as we can by splitting up. Spencer and JJ, Derek and Kate, and Dave you're with me.'

Kate squinted at her phone, eyebrows furrowing in distress. 'There are over thirty addresses here. And they're spread all over the New York state. This could take days.'

'I'll get local police as well as Holt's team to help,' Hotch replied. 'We find out who these girls were before they were abducted, we find out how the unsub finds them.'

'Then we can find him,' Rossi added with an assertive nod. 'All right then, let's get going. We're burning daylight.'

Spencer downed the rest of his coffee then grabbed his satchel and suit jacket and scrambled after his team. Before he left, he turned back to the board, to the marked map and the pictures of the managers and the mutilated girls. Girls who died as different people to who they were born as.

We will find you, he silently vowed, and followed his team out the door.

~~~

The pounding music of the Pit replicated the consistent thuds in your head as you walked your way around the floor.

Three glasses of single malt whiskey balanced precariously on your tray as you made your way through the crowd of gentlemen and girls enjoying themselves. It was a fine art, one you had perfected over the eleven months you'd been undercover.

You tried not to crinkle your nose in disgust as you passed by a certain lecherous man getting handsy with one of the girls, Lavender.

She was younger than you, a pretty little thing who started around the same time as you did. You'd come to the assumption she was also one of the girls who'd been taken as a a child and reinvented, as she always dodged any questions you asked about her life before... working.

And maybe she just didn't know the answers or she just really valued her privacy as a girl in her late teens did. But the way she would always always redirect the subject or blatantly not answer didn't sit right with you.

Lavender's eyes met yours briefly, and you saw the defeat and disgust she felt as she let the man's hands grip her curvaceous hips. It was a silent cry for help - you'd seen the same look in the other girls' eyes before. Not just at the Chateau, either. At all the establishments you'd wheedled your way into.

You wanted nothing more than to slug the bastard who had to be forty years Lavender's senior, and shame him for defacing an innocent like her. For going behind his wife's back because God forbid she age like human beings do. You saw the ring tan wrapping his ring finger. That was an easy spot after being in the workplace as you long as you had. Or maybe that was just your profiler background giving you an upper hand.

Before you could do anything, however, Lavender was dragged back into a conversation with the lech, forcing a fake smile to crinkle her beautiful features. And you still had three drinks to deliver.

'There you go, boys,' you drawled out, slapping on a flirtatious smile as you placed the three glasses onto the small round table between the three occupied chairs.

'Why thank you, sweetheart,' one said, flashing your smile back at you in return. 'I've been looking forward to this all night.'

'Why don't you sit down with us,' another one said, patting his lap as he took a sip from his glass, never losing eye contact with you.

You repressed the shudder that instinctively rattled your bones, and instead you waved a hand carelessly. 'No, no. I can't. I'm on bar shift tonight, boys. I mean, who else is going to get you your drinks?'

'I'm sure someone else could cover for ya, sweetheart,' the third man suggested, hand reaching out to graze your hips. 'Come on, just ten minutes won't hurt anyone.'

Bile rose up in your throat at his touch, how it sent an uncomfortable chill through you despite the heat inside the Pit. But you were Serena Vanderguff, and this was not your first rodeo.

You gracefully yet pointedly slapped his hand away from you, laughing boisterously like you hadn't purposefully done that. 'Oh, you boys have such a wild sense of humour. But be honest... you couldn't afford ten minutes of this.'

You swayed your hips as you walked away, knowing full well they were staring after you. Wolf whistles followed your movements but none of them came after you thankfully, no doubt because they set their sights on some other poor victims.

You approached the bar and placed your tray on it, leaning on it with a sigh.

'Tell me about it,' a velvety voice said. The voice belonged to a gorgeous woman with charcoal skin, chocolate eyes, and multicoloured braids who was wiping glasses before putting them back behind the bar to use for another round of drinks. 'But I'm sad to say, but the night is still young.'

'You got that right, Ajani,' you murmured, rubbing around your eyes to avoid messing up your eye makeup. It was a little bright and bold for your taste, but it didn't matter what you liked.

It hadn't mattered for a while now.

'Hey,' Ajani said, grabbing your attention. 'Madame was looking for you in her office.'

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 'For me? What for?'

Ajani shrugged, throwing the hand towel she'd been using over her shoulder. 'She didn't say what exactly, just that she wanted to see you now. Don't worry, I'll get Becky to cover for ten.'

You nodded, then cautiously turned over my shoulder to the door to the side of the stage that read OFFICE. It wasn't unusual for you to be called in to her office as of late. It was exactly what you wanted. But it didn't mean you weren't any less terrified whenever you entered, the endless possibilities of why you were in there driving you crazy.

The door opened to reveal Madame Lacroix sitting at her desk, a drink in hand, and two other men sitting in the two chairs on the other side of it. Two men, you were terrified to notice, you recognised as managers of your previous workplaces: Alfred Royalton of the Charming Times brothel, and Melton Jones from Guilty Pleasure. Their quiet murmurings silenced as soon as you came into view, their piercing gazes freezing you in the doorway.

'You wanted to see me, Madame?' you said as perkily as you could, hoping to cover your fear up slightly.

Madame Lacroix's red lips split in an award-winning smile as she waved you inside with her free hand. 'Yes, Serena. I was! How lovely of you to join us. Come in, come in!'

You quickly scurried in and closed the door behind you, happy to find reprieve in the much quieter room compared to the Pit. But that reprieve didn't last long, as you met your old bosses' curious gazes.

'You remember Alfred and Melton, Serena?' Madame Lacroix prompted after an awkward moment of silence.

'Yes,' you answered. 'It's great to see you both. You're looking well.'

'And so are you, dear Serena,' Alfred said, walking over and embracing you in an awkward hug as he tried to not spill his drink. As an older gentlemen, he seemed more like a fatherly figure to the girls in his employment. But from what you knew about the business he and the others in the room were involved in, he came off as a creepy pedophile. 'I'm so glad to see Madame Lacroix treating you so well. You know you are always welcome back at the old haunt.'

'If she's going back to anyone, it's me,' Melton said, the certainty in his words matching the intensity of his eyes. They raked you up and down, and again you repressed a shiver from the disgusting feeling it gave you to be watched like a piece of meat. Melton Jones couldn't be older than thirty-five, and was the son of one of the biggest CEO's in Eco-energy products and research.

You could only imagine what his big-time mother would think if she knew what her son was really into.

'Tough luck, boys. She's mine now,' Madame Lacroix interrupted the fight, getting up from her seat to walk around her desk and sling an arm around your shoulders. 'But why don't we get into what we really want to talk about? Have a seat, my dear.'

You didn't have much of a choice as Madame Lacroix guided you to sit in her own desk chair before joining the men on the other side. They all looked at you expectantly, but their smiles were more alarming than reassuring.

'Um... what did you want to see me for, Madame?' you asked after a moment of silence.

Madame didn't respond right away, placing her glass of wine down first on the desk. 'You are a special girl, Serena. Very special indeed.'

You raised a quizzical brow. 'How so?'

'You've impressed us,' Alfred answered, looking around at his peers. 'Your ability to keep secrets and do things without being asked has attributed to this. It's one of the reasons we've had to share you around so much and in such little time. If I had any say, you would've never left Charming Times!'

'You've done our stocktake,' Melton continued, those snake eyes of his never leaving yours. 'Kept certain... shipments under wraps. Picked up exclusive clientele that has done wonders for our business. You're like our own little personal lucky charm.'

You recounted all the times you'd hidden the secret load of drugs that were snuck into customer's drinks and food to get them so delirious they didn't realise how much money they were spending. All the times you sat in on meetings with the managers about who to target the next night, and all the shady receipts of shipments with unknown contents in them you hadn't be told about yet.

All the the illegal and dangerous deals that you'd told your Organised Crime unit about behind your managers' backs.

'That is why we would like to reward you, my dear,' Madame Lacroix said, a smile you figured to be proud gracing her lips. 'And we're not the only ones who think so too. We think you're ready to learn our... business, and so does the Boss.'

'The Boss?' you asked tentatively, not bothering to mask your slight fear. Was this the seller? Was this the guy you'd been trying to take down for almost a year now?

'Oh don't look so terrified, honey,' Madame Lacroix doted, walking around the desk to pat at your head. She leaned in close to you, and you restrained from gagging at the smell of too much wine tainting her breath. 'The Boss is impressed by your work and commitment to the trade. So much so, he wants to meet you. Soon.'

The men looked at you expectantly, and that's when you realised how you should be reacting. 'R-Really?' you mustered out an excited response, widening your eyes to appear more innocent. 'The Boss wants to see me?'

'Yes, Serena,' Alfred said. 'All the arrangements will be made when you meet, but soon you'll be seeing him a lot.'

'Arrangements?'

Melton surprisingly was the one to answer you. 'Each establishment in the Business, as we like to call it, has their hierarchy. The Boss is above us all, and he helps keep our establishments running smoothly. From there, it goes us, then our employees. That's you right now, Serena. But there is a status in between us and the employees that is trusted more than the others, kind of like our right hand woman.'

'And that woman acts as our mediator between us and the Boss,' Madame Lacroix continued, still stroking your hair. 'Kind of like a peace offering for how generous and kind he is to us.'

'What has this got to do with me?' you asked, but you already knew what the answer would be.

Madame Lacroix let out a dramatic sigh as she stood to make her way around the desk again, rejoining the men. 'Well, our mediator at the Chateau was Roxy, but, well, you know what happened to her. So what I'm offering is a chance to become the next Roxy, Serena. Be my most trusted employee, to learn the Business, and to appease the Boss- I mean, thank him.'

She stopped mid-walk to turn and look you dead in the eye, and despite her drunken breath, you saw clarity and evil flash in those emerald eyes of hers.

'So, what do you say, Serena? Do you want to be one of us?'

[porcelana-r0ta]

The Curse of Sight, Part 5

[Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Ao3 Link (only available to Ao3 members)

Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a bat. 

xxXxx

Tim Drake first met Wes Weston not as Tim, but as Red Robin. 

His initial impression of the kid was that he was either stupid or had no self-preservation, or a combination of both. What kind of person tries to make conversation with their mugger? Who just stands there and tries convincing their mugger that there’s no point in mugging them?

…Disregarding the fact that in a way, it worked. When Red Robin finally intervened, the mugger was only demanding Wes’s watch instead of a wallet. Wes had officially logicked his way out of handing over his mom’s “emergencies only” credit card. 

Of course, he didn’t know the kid’s name until a few days later, when he ran into him as a civilian at Wayne Enterprises. And Tim won’t lie: he really only wandered over to him at first because he smelled coffee. Once it registered that the coffee wasn’t for him, he lost interest until he saw the exact predicament Wes was in: his hands were too full of coffee to press the elevator call button.

So Tim waltzed over and pressed the up button, then followed him in to press the kid’s floor number. He even took two of the cartons while the elevator started pulling them up. 

It was during that exchange that Tim actually recognized Wes as the civilian who was too mouthy for his own good. Maybe Tim should have recognized him sooner, but he wasn’t exactly running on five hours of sleep, it’d been a few days, and Tim can’t remember every person he saves because then he’d have no room for important memories, like where to get the best coffee, and what insults annoy Damian the most.

After making the connection between the redhead civilian and the redhead intern, it amused Tim to note how Wes seemed more frightened of him than the mugger. But it made sense in the capitalist America they lived in: Tim is his boss, who holds much more financial power over Wes than a one-time mugger. Of course he’s more scared of one of the people who can determine if he’ll get into a good college and have a good job. 

The interaction should have just ended with him helping Wes drop off the coffee to the PR Department, but then Jade Oswald started aggressively shoving the cardboard carton holders into Wes’s hands, and Wes just took it. 

This was what Wes’d been so worried about. 

Tim puts a swift stop to it, and makes a Wayne-typical flirty statement to Wes about bringing him a coffee next time he runs out. It doesn’t occur to his caffeine-addled mind until patrol that night that a baby intern might take the CEO’s words seriously. 

Oops. 

Well, they were going to have that meeting with PR in the morning anyway, so it’d be fine. He’d be able to correct it then. 

But then he didn’t see Wes when he and Bruce went to floor 73, and the meeting was interrupted by Wes to drop off coffee, and Wes remembered his order. 

And he ordered blond espresso because it has more caffeine, something that Alfred won’t let him have anymore for that exact reason. 

Tim’s pretty sure there were stars in his eyes as he whispered, “You are a coffee god.” 

After that, he couldn't just not enable Wes to bring him the nectar of the gods. He gave Wes his phone number and told him to inform him when he’s on a coffee run so he can tell Wes where he’s at. The next day, when Wes dutifully texted him, Tim jumped at the opportunity to escape from Lucius Fox’s coded scoldings about tearing up some of the Bat-tech he provides. As they walked and talked, Tim found that he actually had a lot in common with Wes, and that the intern was quick-witted even if a little anxious. 

And, well. The rest is history, as they say. 

“Did you finally ask Wes to the Pride Gala, Tim?” Steph asks gleefully at supper. 

He resists the urge to sink lower in his seat. It’d be too big of a tell. Still, he can’t keep the grumble out of his voice when he says, “...Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

He mutters something under his breath.

“What was that, Timmers?” Dick asks. He’s still on a short leash thanks to being kidnapped as a civilian last week, so he’d compromised and agreed to drive in for supper a few times this week to put Bruce’s worried dad-heart at rest. 

“I said I asked him and Rebecca to work the gala for TikTok!” 

Everyone else’s side conversations halt at his words, and not even the clatter of silverware can be heard. 

Tim allows himself to sink further into his seat now. 

“So you have a crush on this kid and to spend time with him, you asked him to work an event?” Dick asks.

He shifts the piece of steak he’d cut around on his plate, “...Uh, yes. That covers it.”

“Wow,” Duke comments. “That’s gotta be some kind of abuse of power.” 

Tim whips his head up at that, “You think so? Should I tell him never mind? I don’t want to—”

“Now, Master Timothy,” Alfred chimes in from his place at the table beside Bruce. “I don’t think there’s reason to panic. You spend a lot of time with him as equals, don’t you? If he didn’t want to work the event, I’m sure he would feel comfortable saying no.”

But now Tim’s nerves are fried, and he’s glad for the fork in his hand that prevents him from playing with the hem of his hoodie. “But I’m the CEO of the company he works at. How can I be sure that any of this is consensual on his end? I—”

“You’re worried about nothing,” Steph cut in comfortingly. She smirks, “Besides, I’ve stalked you two on multiple occasions now. It’s safe to say he likes you.” 

He slams his fork onto the plate to point at her angrily, “I knew it! I got into a fight with Jason because of you!” She’d told him that the older boy was planning on stalking them for blackmail material, and he’d pinned the stare he could feel on the back of his head as Jason’s. He should’ve known it was psychological espionage. 

Steph only grins innocently, “You two were really cute at Robinson Park. I mean, when you—”

He picks his fork back up and flings it at her. She dodges accordingly and the fork lodges in the back of her seat, right where her head would have been. 

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne!” Bruce scolds. 

“Middle-named,” Dick hisses. “Ouch.” 

“I didn’t know you were taking lessons from Damian,” Steph says casually, removing the fork from the wood and tossing it back to him. 

He catches it and says simultaneously with Damian, “I would never.” 

They exchange irritated looks at the accidental twinning. 

“Don’t,” Bruce says when Damian opens his mouth. The younger shuts his mouth obligingly and returns to eating his food. Bruce turns back to Tim, “You know better than to throw silverware at the dinner table.” 

Tim sighs, “You’re right. Sorry, Alfred.” 

“Thank you, Master Timothy,” Alfred gracefully accepts as Bruce’s brow twitches. 

“Really, Tim?” 

“Really, what, B? You’ll need to be more specific.” 

Bruce only sighs, and Tim and Steph snicker in response. 

“Back to the matter at hand,” Dick says, “you should really work on your communication skills, Tim. You don’t wanna end up like Bruce, do you?”

“All of my relationships have been perfectly fine, Dick.” Bruce rolls his eyes. 

Tim squints scrutinizingly at Bruce, “No, no. He has a point.” 

Even Damian nods, “It’s true, Father. Even Mother says that you are not adept at communication in romantic relationships.” 

“Gross, didn’t need to know that.” Steph wrinkles her nose, and Tim mirrors the action subconsciously in his own disgust. 

“Yeah, way TMI, Baby Bat,” Dick says. 

Dinner continues in much the same affair, and at the end, Tim follows Damian up to his room. 

“Why are you following me, Drake?” Damian finally asks when he gets to his bedroom door instead of continuing to ignore Tim. 

“I wanted to ask you something—”

“The answer is no.”

“You haven’t even heard me out yet!”

Damian sighs, long-suffering like he’s 80 and not 12. “What is it?” 

“I had a meeting with Penny Rolland and others at PR,” he starts. He should credit Wes, but he knows that Damian will say no if he knows it’s just an intern’s idea. “We were thinking of utilizing WE’s new TikTok for some Wayne Family exposure that wouldn’t include the press. Our first idea is having you introduce your pets.” 

The look Damian gives him is unimpressed, “You just want an excuse to have your crush in Wayne Manor without the paparazzi scaring him off.”

“That’s not true! I can invite him over without needing work as an excuse!”

“Drake, all you are is work. It’s disgusting.” Damian furrows his brow in emphasis, looking every inch the Wayne he is. 

Tim rolls his eyes, “Okay, fine. I’ll have an interview scheduled with Grey Howard for you, then.” 

Grey Howard was easily the most nosy, intolerable, and uncomfortable human being to have ever cursed the world with her presence. It was a punishment to even be in the same building as her, nevermind be interviewed by her. 

Damian’s eyes narrowed, “You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me.” Tim squares his shoulders back. 

They glare into each other’s eyes for a good thirty seconds before Damian breaks with a scoff, “Fine. But Richard brings Haley and I get to approve of everything that goes in this plebeian ‘TikTok,’ understood?” 

“Of course.” Tim knows how much of a sacrifice it is to have a public persona. Sure, there wasn’t any privacy in a place like the League of Assassins, but being surrounded by nosy assassins was a lot different from being in the spotlight of the demanding public. Public that felt like they were entitled to every space the Waynes could inhabit, even their home. “Thanks… Damian.”

“Tt. Whatever, Drake.” Then he backed into his room and slammed the door. 

That actually went better than expected. Still, Tim is 80% sure he only agreed because he’d get to show off his beloved pets, and he’d get to see Haley.

Tim heads back to his room and shoots off a quick text to Dick about Friday, which he gets a quick, “Show off my baby Haley? Ofc I’m in!” in response. As expected. 

He then finishes off a few WE emails and then heads to the cave to suit up for patrol. He’s been taking a new route lately, a route that passes over Wes’s home. And if he tends to linger there for longer than normal, watching for threats or maybe even just a glimpse of red hair, then well. That’s between him and Gotham’s smoggy sky. 

xxXxx

The next day at work, Tim can’t make it to Wes’s coffee run, too caught up with the Board to swing down. But when his lunch break rolls around, he leaves his office. 

“Sadie, I’m going out for lunch. I’ll be back at one,” he informs his secretary. 

“You’ve been taking more breaks lately,” she notes, organizing a stack of papers. “Normally, you work through lunch.” 

“Is this a bad thing?”

“On the contrary, Mr. Drake-Wayne.” Sadie pauses in her work to make eye contact. “I think it’s a very good thing. And I have heard that it’s for a good boy, hm?”

Tim’s ears grow hot. Damn office gossip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mh-hmm, of course, Mr. Drake-Wayne. Enjoy your lunch. I’ll hold your calls until 1:30.”

“I said I’d be back by one.” 

“And I said I’d hold your calls until 1:30.” 

So basically, don’t come back until 1:30. 

God, she is just like Alfred. But that’s why he’d hired her and kept her on. Bruce’s secretary, Bev, is very similar, even. 

“You got it. You enjoy your lunch, too.”

“Thank you, Mr. Drake-Wayne.” 

Tim then rushes for the elevator and hits the summon button, trying to feel less hot. 

Stop. Blushing. 

The elevator dings and the door opens, and the space inside is blessedly empty. He enters and hits the 73rd floor.  His ride is only interrupted once by two busy-talking suits from the law department, and he’s able to get away with minimal interaction. 

When the elevator opens to the floor of the PR Department, he makes his way over to Rebecca’s cubicle, where Wes can always be found. 

Only, he’s not there. 

He frowns as he takes in the sight of Rebecca focused on her desktop, typing away on a Google Doc, and the empty stool that should be occupied by Wes. He knocks on the side of the cubicle for Rebecca’s attention, and her head whips to look at him. 

“Oh, Mr. Drake-Wayne,” she says. “Looking for Wes?”

“Yes, would you happen to know where he is?” 

“He’s with Ms. Rolland,” she answers. “They’re in her office.” 

“Ah,” he says. With his mom. That makes sense. “Okay, thanks. While I’m here, I should tell you that Damian and Dick have agreed to appear on the WE TikTok to introduce their pets to the public.” 

Her eyes light up, “Really? That’s great! Thank you, Mr. Drake-Wayne. I’ll draft up a narration, but it’ll still be the two introducing the pets and telling the audience about them. So it’ll be more like, ‘Ever wondered about the beloved pets of the Waynes? Well, let’s take a look!’ type of thing, and then your brothers would tell us about them and show them off, and maybe play with them a little.”

“That sounds great, Rebecca.” And it does because it’s low effort for Damian, who wants to stab a katana through a camera more than he wants to smile at one. “I’ll talk to you and Wes about it more later, okay?”

“For sure,” she nods vigorously. “Enjoy your lunch date, sir.” 

Aaaaaannnnd the burning ears are back. “Lunch date?”

“Oh, sorry, is that not what you needed Wes for?” Rebecca blinks innocently. “I didn’t mean to assume….”

Wait. Hold on. If that’s what Rebecca was assuming, does that mean she—

Has Wes told her something? Confided a crush in her? Or… is this just teasing like with Sadie? 

His stomach twists, and he vaguely thinks that maybe he should reprimand her—they don’t have a working relationship like he does with Sadie—but he’s Gen Z and much less uptight than his older employees, and he’s more concerned with the potential of what Wes thinks of him. 

He opens his mouth to ask, and then clicks it shut when the movement brings a surge of fear. 

“I should go,” he hears himself say, and then he walks at a perfectly normal and calm pace to Ms. Rolland’s office. 

He clasps his palms over his cheeks a few times to tame the redness, takes a deep breath, and then knocks. At the immediate call of, “Come in,” he opens the door. 

“Mr. Drake-Wayne,” Penny greets upon seeing him come through the door, and Wes’s head snaps up at him from where he’d been hunching over a laptop. “Here for my son?” 

Well, at least it makes sense for her to ask that, he thinks despairingly to himself before clearing his throat, “Ah, yes, I was hoping he’d be alright with going out to lunch with me?” 

Wes fiddles with his fingers, cracking the joints within them, “Yeah, I’ll go. Mom?” 

“Where do you plan on going?” she asks, and Wes cuts a questioning glance to Tim. 

“I was thinking Chinese?” he suggests. “Probably Chopsticks, since it’s close by.” 

“Chinese sounds good,” Wes agrees, shutting his laptop and standing, then setting the laptop down on the chair he’d been occupying. “I’ll see you, Mom. Should we bring you anything back?”

“No, just have fun. Both of you.”

“You got it, Ms. Rolland,” Tim replies and holds open the door for Wes. 

They exit Wayne Enterprises, keeping up a steady flow of conversation between them as they go, and Tim taking the lead. Chopsticks is only a few blocks away, but they have to cross a few streets to get there. Because Gotham traffic is nothing to sneeze at, it’ll take a while to get there. 

“How’s work been? Find anything about the My Immortal fan?” Wes asks casually as the sun beats down on them even while behind gray clouds. 

“No,” Tim snorts. It’s been driving B crazy. And Barbara and Tim himself, of course. The guy has no history—he’s brand new to the game. They didn’t even get a name from him, so Bruce has taken to calling him N—short for Neon, which derives from the toxic green highlighting his otherwise black suit. Dick, on the other hand, refers to him as Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. Or just Ebony for short. 

One of the misnomers has more character than the other. Bruce is, unsurprisingly, outvoted in Ebony’s name. At least when with most of his kids. 

“That’s too bad,” Wes says. “But I guess you’re more worried about the gala, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, even if it’s a lie. He’s had way too many sleepless nights analyzing the video of Ebony to be too concerned with the Pride Gala. “It’s… a lot.” 

Wes nods, his lips turning down a tic, “I bet. I mean, you’re like, the glue of WE. And you’re only seventeen.” 

If Tim wasn’t a Bat, he’s pretty sure he would have faltered in his step. But Tim is a Bat and so instead, his eyes just flick to Wes’s for a fraction of a second. 

It’s true. He is only seventeen. But Tim feels much, much older than that some days. He feels older than Jason, older than Dick, older than Bruce. (But maybe not older than Alfred, who has the wisdom of the gods, really.) 

“Yeah.” He swallows. His throat suddenly feels dry. “I am.” 

Wes senses this sudden turn, and he gently elbows Tim in the ribs. “Hey,” he says. “You’re doing great. I mean, I couldn’t do half of what you do. It’s honestly exhausting to think about. My mom watches the news every morning before we go to work, and WE stock is way higher since you took over. Still, you could stand to act more like a teenager.” 

“I could, huh?” He chuckles, but his mind is clouded. He thinks of how he was when he was eleven, ten, nine. He thinks of absent parents and empty mansions with empty pantries. 

“Totally,” Wes nods emphatically. “We’ll work on it. We’ll– we’ll— I dunno, go to a stupid B movie or go to a carnival that took only twelve hours of set up, or something. Something normal dangerous, and not Gotham dangerous. And we’ll play dumb carnival games and spend too much money trying to win rigged games, and we’ll ride rides that are held together with duct tape.” 

Tim’s lips quirk up. What Wes is describing sounds remarkably like a date. His heart sings at the idea, and his brain points out all the moments of Wes’s blushing and stuttering, like he was nervous around a crush. And Tim hopes. 

God, he hopes. 

“A carnival, huh?” he asks, and chickens out of suggesting that it’s a date. Because all the signals that Wes has given could be nerves from speaking with the CEO of the company he works at, the company his mother works at. “My brother might be a little offended over your description of a carnival, though.”

“He was in the circus, not the carnival. It’s totally different.” Wes shakes his head and slams his hand into the last call button for the crosswalk before they’ll be on the correct block for Chopsticks. As they wait, a few other Gothamites join them at the sidewalk corner. 

“Is it?” he muses, even though he can hear Dick in his head outlining all the differences between a carnival and a circus. 

“It totally is,” Wes insists. “C’mon, dude. I live in the most— I live in the middle of nowhere. All we have is the yearly carnival. I think I’d know. We did have a circus, once, but. It was this whole thing.” 

“A whole thing?”

“Yeah.” Wes winces. “It was some scheme to steal jewelry, or whatever. So now we just have the carnival when it comes to town.” 

Huh, interesting. Maybe he’d have to check that out, just to get his mind off Ebony for a while. 

“Well, that sucks. What town are you from again?”

The light switches from an angry orange hand to a cheerful, white stick figure in the middle of walking. Wes answers as they begin to cross the street, “I’m from Amity Park, Illinois. It’s the middle of nowhere, like I said. But we did have Ember McLain come for a concert, once!” 

Tim already knew he was from Amity Park, IL. And Tim knows a lot more than what Wes has told him, too. There’s so much a person can discover from just the internet and a phone number. Well, that, and Tim has access to a lot of employee information. 

“Ember McLain?” he asks in surprise. He hasn’t done that much research into Amity, just enough to know more about Wes. But a town that size having a big-name celebrity like Ember come for a concert? That was odd. 

Wes nods, “Yeah, it was really cool. A fan did almost fall off a billboard, though. Which, really. Dumb as hell. Could never be me.” 

They reach the restaurant and enter, and as it’s a seat-yourself restaurant, Tim leads Wes over to an empty booth in the back corner of the establishment, where they will be less likely to be noticed. It’s dimly lit, but Tim can still make out every one of Wes’s freckles. Once they sit, they each grab a menu from the menu stand at the table and talk as they peruse their food options. 

“That’s scary,” Tim comments idly, already planning to search for a newspaper article about the incident. “Did you go to the concert?” Did you see it? 

“Yeah,” Wes says. “Pretty much everyone did. The guy was one of my classmates.” 

“Sounds traumatizing.” 

“He was fine. Dumb, though. Like I said, could never be me. His girlfriend was pissed, though. Or, well. Friend. They’re dating now. But not at the time. Sorry, that’s probably boring.” 

“Ah,” Tim says. Small-town drama is fascinating. “Not at all! I want to hear more about your life.” 

Wes looks away. His blush is somehow more noticeable in the dark than in Gotham’s poor excuse of sunlight. Tim hopes it means crush and not embarrassed to only have small-town stories. “Really?” he asks. 

“Really,” Tim reassures. “Honestly, we don’t get that kind of close-knit knowledge of neighbors in a place like Gotham. We just know about every villain’s drama, which. Less fun than knowing which of your classmates was a creepy celebrity-stalker.” 

Tim is sure that he’s the classmate in this scenario. Which, well. Is unfortunate. But his first meeting with Wes was through mugging! Clearly, his friend needed to be looked after. 

“Haha,” Wes giggles nervously, and Tim’s heart lurches in his chest. Cute! “I guess that’s fair. Okay, so there’s this guy—” Tim’s heart then stops, “—who is, like, obsessed with one of my classmates. Bully type, you know? It’s totally because he’s in love with him.” 

Tim’s heart hesitantly begins beating again. “Oh?”

Wes nods, “For sure. I mean, you don’t give that amount of attention to someone unless you like them. We’re both on the basketball team, but Dash’s main focus is on football. Naturally. Anyway, he started getting tutoring from the kid’s older sister just to be around him more. Embarrassing, really. And pathetic. Just admit you’re gay and move on. And you’re not five anymore; pig-tail pulling is not the way to go. But he’s toned down a lot on the bullying since his parents divorced and his mom got custody, so. There’s that, I guess.” 

“That’s good,” Tim says, and thinks, Please keep talking. Please stay with me.

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe he’ll finally realize that his best friend is super in love with him and they’ll get together.” 

Tim looks at Wes and says, “Yeah, maybe.”

xxXxx

Tag List:

@theamazingfox @quietlyscared @lumosfeather18581   @blankliferain @amercurio @gin2212 @starscreamlover @hoarder-of-gender @the-ghost-trader @iariinay @ectoplasm024 @theblackcatscratchpost @chaos-n-kindness @overtherose @roseinbloom02

If you want to be added to the Tag List, just ask in the replies! 

Ao3 is updated first BUT I upload onto Tumblr about thirty minutes after uploading on Ao3, so don’t worry about missing out on early content or anything. Everything is updated within the hour :)