#but ironically i got it by going to the doctors office cause there was someone there SUPER sick | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captain-aralias · 1 year

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Life update

TL;DR - currently still pregnant at 21 weeks, baby is currently ok.

but spent the last 3 days in hospital, getting surgery to try and stop baby coming dangerously early. now back to being WORRIED ALL THE TIME.

if you want to read about that, i've written a post just to get it all out. it's quite bleak, even though we are hoping for the best.

triggers in the below: pregnancy, miscarriage, other death

so yes! it's been a weird week.

started really well - i started taking liquid iron and felt GREAT, shockingly good to the extent that i assumed it was a placebo effect and not actually my body. this is not relevant to the rest of the story, just that i was feeling really confident, not tired for the first time in ages, having a good time.

wednesday - i got a text from the NHS saying i had an appointment the next day. again, so confident was i feeling about pregnancy that my reaction was to be pissed off. no i didn't have an appointment, this was my week of no appointments!!! i was going to go into work for one of my mandatory two days in the office, wtf.

a physical letter arrived at my house a few hours after this and confirmed that i did indeed have an appointment i'd never heard of. the only information about what it was were the words 'obstetrics f/up.' eventually i realised f/up meant 'follow up', rather than 'fuck up', but i was still pretty much in the dark about what it would be.

but i went along anyway, rather than cancelling in a fit of pique because i HAPPENED to have the lunchtime of the next day free. i did not go into work.

the appointment turned out to be .... a scan, performed by a doctor rather than the normal sonographer. i actually had been told that they would try and book something like this at my.... obstetrics appointment, hence the name. the reason for booking in this appointment was that every time i go for a scan, baby is not willing to move around so it has been hard to get all the views that are necessary. and also i've had IVF.

again, i thought - this is probably a waste of time. i'm a low risk patient! i just have IVF because i'm queer, i'm actually dead good at pregnancy. but hey ho.

and indeed, first time doctor scanned me, baby refused to move. went outside, drank some water, she scanned someone else, i went back - they scanned me again. declared baby is fine! doesn't even have a short leg like we were worried about before, brill. but...

i seem to have a short cervix. that could cause early delivery. maybe we should scan me the other way to confirm. but she has to scan someone else first.

this is - as you may guess - where the story gets bad. although i didn't guess that yet. i thought - early delivery? no problem. you mean, like 2 weeks or something, cool. i've already booked my maternity leave to start 2 weeks early.

NO. it means - like, any time from now. even though baby will literally die if born now.

scan confirms that cervix is 1mm, instead of the 25mm+ that is usually no cause to worry.

doctor says - you need to go to labour ward now and probably get surgery, and stay over night.

i'm still living in cloud cuckoo land at this point, so my brain is like - stay over night? but i have one-time only dinner plans at fortnum and mason tonight (a true story, a gift from my partner's rich eccentric mother).

we go over to the labour ward - at which point, my brain starts to point out that this is not good. we're put in a birthing suite to wait for someone to come and talk to us. usually, i would be texting my friend who is also a resident of the same town and due to have her baby 2 weeks before me (OR MAYBE NOT) but i guess this is where it hits me that i might never get to the bit where we are in the birthing suite.

basically from this point onwards, i cried at least several times per day until saturday. midwives kept trying to comfort me. the next doctor they brought to talk to me and my partner (fortunately with me) basically acted like he was telling me i had terminal cancer (i do not have terminal cancer). he wanted me to know that the baby might still die even if we do the surgery, and also that doing the surgery might also break my waters, and then they'd recommend terminating as i'm only 21 weeks pregnant, and babies usually don't survive earlier than 24 weeks. even then - that's very premature.

there was some suggestion they might be able to do the surgery THAT DAY, but it didn't work out. so we were transferred to the antenatal ward, given a (different) private room, and my partner was sent home to get my stuff. she came back and stayed the night in the single bed - not as fun as the fanfic makes it look! particularly because even though we were off the main ward, we could still hear.... people in labour. and babies - like the one we might not have - crying. and beeping - lots of beepings.

also - one of my friends came to pick up my car, which i'd left on the street back when i thought that the appointment would be maximum 2 hours. i was vvv upset about the baby, but my brain wouldn't shut up about the car either. WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN TO THE CAR. until it was gone, and then it was 100% baby panic.

monitoring of blood pressure and temperature too, so - should you get to sleep, you will definitely be woken at 2am and 6am. amazing.

cut to the next day - no food, little water. a bunch of drugs, no surgery until 3.30. surgery includes being completely numb from waist down, which is great (genuinely). as well as pain relief, this really decreases the humiliation of being in a room with 10 people all looking up your hospital gown while you can't control your bodily functions.

the surgeon had come in for like 5 minutes earlier and this is not an exaggeration of our conversation:

him: you're having this surgery, it had a 50% chance of failing to get you to full term even if we do put the stitch in successfully, sign this consent form please no offence lovely NHS, genuinely amazing throughout this whole situation, but this is the first time anyone had said 50% chance of failure.

me: [signs form, since has no choice really] him: any questions? me: er... him: [literally already out the door, genuinely did not wait for an answer] midwife [still there, apologetic] as you can see, they're very busy. if you have questions, best to write them down and just say them loudly when you get the chance

everyone else in the theatre was super nice. although also kept asking me about the baby i was convinced i might lose within the surgery (do you know the gender? what are you going to call him?). surgery went ok. very quick. did NOT lose the baby ... at that point. but couldn't stop crying as soon as i got out.

still numb for 6 hours. catheter horrible. spent 2 hours in the recovery ward - still no food allowed - under a weird inflatable blanket. wheeled back to the antenatal ward.

this time, we were on the main ward - although it was pretty quiet because they don't schedule people in for stuff on saturdays. just two women there - both waiting for emergency c-section the next day.

while i was glad neither were in labour, it was still super awkward and upsetting to be on the ward with them. sound carried really well, so we heard all their consultations, including a bit where one of them had to describe her previous history of pregnancy, which included having twins - one of whom DIED. omg. cue - another crying fit for self.

seriously - my overall feeling coming out of this was how amazing the NHS is, how amazing it was that the doctor caught my cervix the day before it opened fully during a random scan for something else (because my cervix was fully open during the surgery, 24 hours after the scan. vv bad) the midwives were so lovely, the nurses were so lovely. they gave me loads of great drugs too (progesterone - my old friend from IVF), which will hopefully keep contractions away, in addition to the stitch.

BUT.... it was pretty hellish to be incredibly emotional and stuck in hospital listening to this stuff for 2 days, unable to sleep. very very likely some of the worst days of my life so far.

i'm back home, as of yesterday, which is amazing. slept a full night, and i'm 2 days out of surgery. the symptoms of the surgery failing are all things that i am feeling right now - like.... pain. contractions (is this a contraction, or is this the baby moving??) and maybe your waters breaking, which could happen slowly so how do you know it's not happening RIGHT NOW.

so - basically, i am still not in a good place emotionally, even though we haven't lost the baby yet. i realised that as well as just.... the very fact of the possible death of a baby we have given a name to (we couldn't use the name again for another baby, could we?) ... i think i'm also in shock for the idea of the life i thought i was going to have this year. i've booked my maternity leave, i was getting into baby mode - starting to largely only want to read baby books, etc. thinking about buying the wrap-top from the advert i watch every time i go into hospital where you can put your baby inside the top and have them skin-to-skin.

and the idea of baby dying and then having to go back to work, my friend having her baby 2 weeks ahead of when i should have had mine... it's just awful. i want the baby, i want to go on maternity leave.

baby coming early but still within a viable window (so - hold on another 3+ weeks) doesn't worry me so much, though is worrying my partner in terms of possible developmental issues of pre-term children. i probably just can't conceptualise this, because my brain is thinking 'well, at least there would be a baby.'

so - that's where we are. doctors and internet both agree bedrest isn't really necessary or helpful, but i have my drugs + antibiotics. 22 weeks is on tuesday. 24 weeks (so viable but very premature baby) - 7th february.

if we make it through february, we'll be in the third trimester, and start to get some good rates of survival if baby comes early.

me to baby (proposed middle name: alexander) every few hours:

heard lots of stories of things being ok and people getting to full term (or close enough) from friends and midwives, one of the trainees literally said this had happened to her. this partly reassures me, and also makes me think - surely that means there must be a need for people to be in the BAD 60-40% to make up the statistics, and that could be me. (i know that's not how statistics works, it's how my brain works).

final doctor - a completely different person to any of the others in this story - told me i likely have a good chance because i have no history of cervical damage, to the extent that they aren't sure why this has happened to me. but the internet told me that it's less likely to be ok if the cervix opened (which mine did), so maybe.......

and maybe these pains are bad pains, rather than i was cut open pains. and maybe my water is breaking.........

in conclusion - i'll be a basketcase for the next few weeks, probably. and then possibly very sad. or possibly it will be some form of all right.

no need to respond to this post, if you got this far! in fact, i might prefer it - i turned off comments on my (much shorter) version of this on twitter as it's all too upsetting. but wanted to let people know, and also record for posterity while i felt a bit more with it/less sad.

likes are ok, even though obviously there's not much to like - except the NHS!! and my friend who took my car home.

this post is also why i probably won't do the 15 questions post that's going around, because it talks about 'when did you last cry' and children, even though we all know the answers to that now. i just don't want this shit in a normal happy meme post.

anyway - hope everyone else is having a nice weekend, and making and/or consuming good art <3

#personal #aralias's baby #pregnancy #miscarriage #infant death #i haven't miscarried yet but warning people it is discussed

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batztrangem · 2 years

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Blood Loss (Hannibal Lecter/Anemic!Reader)

Author's Note: I promised that I'd start crossposting one-shots from my Wattpad so here we are! My Wattpad is _queenofthefandoms_ and my Archive Of Our Own is leztrangem. If you see this on any other platforms, it's not me.

This was a request I got on Wattpad. The person specifically wanted a reader with Anemia so....yeah.

Reader: Gender Neutral (for the most part)

Word Count: 5.2k

I stirred in my bed as I slowly became more awake and aware of my surroundings. My head pounded as I opened my eyes, quickly squinting them due to the sunlight pouring into my room. I groaned as I threw my blanket off of me. Huffing as I sat up, I noticed that my bedroom door was open and the hallway light was on. Was someone here?

A feeling of lightheadedness rushed over me as I stood up, shuffling to the door. I poked my head out of the door and stared down the hallway. My apartment felt colder than usual. "Jesus," I mumbled to myself as I ran my hands up my arms. I stepped out in the hallway and began to make my way to the living room to turn up the thermostat. "You should be in bed," a familiar voice stated, causing me to jump. "Hannibal? What are you doing here?" I asked the psychiatrist.

He stood at the end of the hallway in the living room. "Do you not remember?" he questioned as I walked past him.

I ran my hands over my hair, attempting to fix my bed head a little. "Remember what?" I asked. I tried to retrace my steps in my head. Now that I thought about it, I didn't recall going to bed last night.

"You passed out last night," Hannibal stated.

Oh, now I remembered.

"You must have also been very tired because you didn't wake up afterwards. Most people, even anemics, wake up after fainting," he said as he entered the kitchen.

"Anemic?" I questioned.

"Don't act like you have no idea what I'm talking about," he said, emerging from the kitchen with two bowls. "Protein scramble," he said as he handed me a bowl with a fork.

"Thank you," I said looking down at the bowl. It was indeed a "protein scramble". In the bowl were scrambled eggs, sausage, a small amount of caramelized onions, and tomatoes. Without any hesitation, I began eating. I was much hungrier than I expected.

"You need to go to the doctor, (Y/N)," Hannibal said, sitting across from me at my makeshift dining room table, which was a simple fold-out table.

"No," I stated clearly. I hated going to the doctor. The last thing I wanted to do was sit in a doctor's office. "Why would I need to go to the doctor?" I questioned, knowing fully why I needed to go.

"You have iron deficiency anemia. It's treatable but requires a diagnosis. Hence why it's best if you go to the doctor," Hannibal explained.

"How could you possibly know that I'm anemic? Have you been snooping in my office?" I asked. I was not diagnosed but past medical records of mine mentioned that I should get tested.

"May I remind you that I'm not just a psychiatrist. I practiced medicine for many years," Hannibal said.

"And your professional diagnosis would be?" I asked.

"You're anemic. And stubborn. You don't have many options at this point. You can keep fainting and having heart palpitations which are only going to get worse. And if you end up passing out on the job then you'll have to deal with Jack, who will give you no option. Or go to the doctor willingly," he said.

I sighed and glanced across the table at him. "Fine," I said, giving in. I could see his shoulders dipped in relief. "I'll go with you if that'll make you more comfortable," he offered. I simply nodded my head, accepting the help. I took the last couple of bites of my breakfast and then waited for Hannibal to finish eating.

I leaned back in my chair as I thought to myself. I felt exhausted both mentally and physically. Jack had been working me and Hannibal to the bone ever since Will Graham had been arrested. I could tell that Jack was slowly replacing Will with me and the unorthodox psychiatrist. I didn't like it.

My health had begun to deteriorate as soon as I stepped in Will Graham's shoes. It was only a matter of time before I was also made to get my health evaluated. Anemia wasn't my biggest concern, however. It was my mental health. A trillion neurons were short-circuiting and I wasn't sure how to handle it.

I was pulled out of my train of thought by the sound of ceramic clinking together. Hannibal had cleared the table and I hadn't even noticed. He stood in the kitchen at the sink, rinsing out the dishes. "We can go to the doctor after work. I have a friend who takes patients later in the day. His office primarily caters to those who work late nights," Hannibal stated.

"Ugh. Work. Why'd you have to remind me that today is a workday?" I groaned, resting my head on the table.

"You're a criminal forensics analyst with a degree in mortuary science and psychology. Although you have off days, does your job truly ever stop? A crime will always be committed, more and more people struggle with mental health in our country, and everyone is destined to die. You have your work cut out for you," Hannibal said as he walked over to me, leaning on the side of the table.

"Does your job ever stop?" I asked. There was a tone of seriousness in my voice. It was a genuine question that I'm sure I already knew the answer to. Hannibal couldn't stop psychoanalyzing people if his life depended on it.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I stood up, stretching my arms a bit. "I mean, when do you stop working? Why do you insist on creating a psychological and physical profile on everyone? I know you did it to Will and now you're doing it to me," I said. I took a step towards him, standing as close as I could.

"Jack told me to create a psychoanalysis on Will," Hannibal said.

"And did he tell you to do the same to me?" I questioned.

There was a small moment of silence. He looked down at me, scanning over me with his eyes.

"No," he replied simply.

I sighed. I wasn't sure if I believed him. However, I wouldn't have been surprised if Jack was keeping a close eye on all of his employees. He couldn't have another Will situation. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

I stepped away from Hannibal and glanced over at the clock on the walls. "Shit, I have to get ready," I mumbled.

"I'll be waiting for you," Hannibal said, walking away from me and sitting down on my sofa. I nodded and headed to my bathroom to take a quick shower.

After my shower, I got dressed in a simple dark blue button-up and black slacks that were fitted to my frame. I put on my most comfortable pair of work shoes remembering the fact that I was going to be on my feet all day. Images of the countless bodies I had helped to analyze flashed through my mind.

From a man who used people as fertilizer for mushrooms and fungi to the Chesapeake Ripper, I had seen the darkness that was deeply embedded in humanity. That darkness was in everyone. Yes, I saw humanity as a gathering of depravity and torment. I have come face to face with the evil of the world.

Working in forensics had opened my mind to a lot of things. I knew things now that most people were blind to.

I knew horrible things. I had seen horrible things.

I knew that a man's throat could be cut open to where his vocal cords could be displayed and played like a cello. I knew that someone could create a monument-like statue out of the human remains of 50 people. I knew a man could commit suicide by stringing himself across the roof of a barn with flaps of his own skin, cut in the shape of wings. I knew that one man...one, single man could create a human mosaic out of the hundreds of people he had kidnapped.

To think that I had witnessed such things. The thought of some of the crimes alone could make your skin crawl and your stomach churn. "No wonder Will couldn't keep his wits," I thought to myself as I exited my bedroom and walked down the hallway.

"Are you okay, dear?" Hannibal's voice rang, pulling me from my thoughts once more. He stood up and slowly approached me.

"Do you think Will just...couldn't handle it? Do you think it was a bad idea for all of us to encourage him to step into the shoes of a bunch of murders? Surely, reliving those moments wasn't healthy for his psyche," I questioned. Hannibal put his hand on my back, patting it lightly.

"Will's gift to look beyond a crime scene was incredibly useful however very dangerous," Hannibal explained as he ushered me out of my apartment, "Using his unique mental capabilities was okay until it became a struggle for Will to differentiate whether he was viewing a crime as a person trying to understand a killer or as the killer himself."

We made our way outside and got into Hannibal's car. We drove from my apartment to the FBI crime lab. Before we got out of the car, Hannibal placed his hand on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know what you're worried about. You're not Will, (Y/N). Will put himself in everyone else's shoes. You don't have to put yourself in his," Hannibal said.

"I'm trying really hard not to end up where Will is at. But I'm not sure how much more of this I can take," I said.

I took a deep breath as I exited the car and entered the building. Hannibal followed close behind. "(Y/N), we need you in the lab. Dr. Lecter, could you please join us as well?" Jack said. He was waiting down the main hallway for us. I could see a large number of people behind the translucent glass of the forensics lab.

Crawford stood there as we approached him, looking more distressed than ever. He had a thousand-yard stare and he looked like he could be sick. "We got a call last night. I didn't call you in because Hannibal told me you were sick. Are you okay today?" Jack questioned.

I took another deep breath and put on a semi-fake smile. "I'm feeling a lot better than I was last night. I might stop by the doctor after work today just to make sure," I answered.

"That's good. You're going to need your wits today," Jack said.

Entering the lab, we were all quickly bombarded with madness. A rotten, burning smell hit my nose causing my hand to instantly cover my nostrils.

I was used to the dead smell. Before I started working with the FBI I was a mortician. But I had never gotten used to the smell of burning flesh. When fire was combined with the foul stench of death, there was no escaping the smell. It stuck with you, deep in your brain.

"Female. 26. Was found in the river by Jansen Farms by a couple of guys who were working early. She's was burnt alive before being dumped in the water," Beverly said as we approached the slab, handing me a pair of gloves.

"Obviously, as you can see, being burnt alive was the least of her concerns," Beverly stated.

Before me laid a body of a woman. She was burnt horribly but the water had caused her skin to bloat and loosen from the body. Her left forearm was gone, more than likely dismembered before she was set on fire. Her face still had some recognition besides her eyes, which have been gouged out by a pair of deer antlers. "My, my. What else do we know about her?" I asked as I lifted her right arm, examining the skin hidden beneath it.

"Nothing," Jack stated, "Prints have been burned off on the right hand. We just sent in a tissue sample."

"This is odd," I said. Something about this murder didn't feel right.

"What do you mean?" Beverly asked.

"I think whoever did this tried to stop the burning. Or someone tried to stop someone else from burning her," I explained, picking up a pair of tweezers. I reached over to her mouth, fighting past the rigor mortis and prying open her mouth.

"A dental sample would probably be good as well," I mumbled as I adjusted the light over the corpse's head, bringing it closer to her mouth. "Can you remove these?" I asked Beverly, gesturing towards the antlers. She pulled them out gently, placing them off to the side as evidence.

"Wait a minute, go back to what you said before. You think this was a two-man job?" Jack questioned.

"Well, it's possible. But I think one person went further than the other expected. If it was two people one of them truly hated her," I said as I peered in the women's mouth, looking for any internal sign of choking, or just any clues. Corpses found in water often had all sorts of stuff in their mouths but sometimes hidden details were lurking in the most unusual areas. This time, however, there was nothing to be found. Just dirt, grime, and cavities.

I took a step back, looking at the woman in her entirety once more. Her wounds had definitely killed her. She had 4th-degree burns that were nothing short of fatal. The fire had clearly started at her feet, passing up her legs, and reaching her breasts. But the burns disbanded and were gone once you reached her neck.

"She was set on fire, and then dragged quickly to the water," I said, pointing at her heels which were not only covered in burns but noticeable abrasions caused by debris and sharp rocks.

"Then someone tried to put the flames out by setting her in the water. It was too late. She died in the water and that's where they left her. Judging by her left arm it was dismembered before she was set on fire. The antlers, however, were placed post mortem," I explain my analysis, turning to Jack.

"Great. A murderer with a temper and a murderer with compassion," Andrew groaned off to the side. He was examining another body.

"Why take her arm?" Beverly question, "And why antlers? Is it a calling card?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hannibal butted in from behind me. He walked around the table, looking down at the body. "This is a copycat of Garrett Jacob Hobbs," he stated.

"Another one?" Jack asked.

"It's possible. But would someone copying those murders take a body part? And why put the antlers in the eyes? All of Hobbs' victims were stabbed through their backs," I said.

"And they weren't burned alive," Beverly added.

"Remember what Will said when we found a copycat victim in that field? Hobbs wanted to honor his victims. The victims he didn't eat were presented as an apology. But the copycat didn't think that way. He didn't believe in honoring them if they weren't sufficient for his needs. He took what he wanted and displayed her in an awful way because he was disgusted by her," I said, letting the memory spill out from when we were first chasing Garret Jacob Hobbs.

"So let's get this straight. We have two people who set to murder this Mary Jane for whatever reason. They attack her, take her arm, and one of them sets her on fire because he's disgusted by her," Jack said.

"But the second person wanted to honor her," Hannibal said, glancing over at me.

"So the second person tries to put out the fire by setting her in the river and the woman dies. Then one of them adds the final touch," I said, gesturing to the deer antlers with my hand.

"Run those for fingerprints," Jack ordered Beverly, pointing at the antlers.

"(Y/N), can we talk in my office," Jack asked.

I nodded and followed him out and into his office.

"You know, I'm always impressed with how easily you mask what you're truly feeling," Jack stated leaning on the edge of his desk. I closed the door behind us.

"Really?" I questioned, a sarcastic tone slightly slipping off my tongue.

"Where's your head at, (Y/N)? Because it's not here," Jack said.

My jaw dropped a little.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Don't get me wrong, you assessed that wonderfully. But lately, out on the field, you're not there," he said, tapping his temple.

"I don't know, Jack. I...haven't been feeling well," I said quietly. He stood up straight and walked over to me, putting his hand in his pockets as he did so.

"I suggest you get it figured out," he said, "I talked to Hannibal last night on the phone. I failed to mention to you before that he enlightened me on your current situation. You can't ignore medical issues anymore, (Y/N). Not anemia, not your mental health. This job is not for the light-hearted. If you don't take care of yourself, you can't work here. I don't want you sitting opposite to Will Graham in a prison cell," Jack said. He patted me on the shoulder and made his way to the door.

"Take the rest of the day off and go get tested for anemia. Take Hannibal with you. I'll call you if we get any leads on who did this," Jack called out from the hallway, exiting from my view.

I sighed as I walked out of the office. Hannibal was waiting just outside of the door. "You told him?" I questioned.

"I gave him minor details," Hannibal stated.

I rolled my eyes. We left the building and began driving to the doctor's office.

My conversation with Jack played over and over again in my mind. I didn't mind that he was concerned But did he really think that I was capable of murder? Was I capable of that?

My last conversation with Will replayed in mind as well. It had been well over a month since the last time we talked but I could remember his words truly.

"Don't trust him, (Y/N). I know he's done something," Will said, standing on the other side of the cell glass, "How often do you forget things?"

"Will, this is crazy talk. You really believe that Hannibal killed Abigail Hobbs? How could you possibly come to that conclusion?" I snapped, avoiding his question.

"I know he did it. Just give me time. I can prove it," Will said. He was aggravated. I could tell that he desperately wanted someone to believe him. But what he was suggesting was...outrageous.

"You puked up Abigail's ear. You left with Abigail on that plane and you didn't come back with her," I said.

"Then why don't I remember that? I left. I know I left before I did anything to her. Yes, I had dark thoughts but I didn't act on them. Can I tell you something? Off the record?" He asked.

"Sure," I sighed.

"I remember something that I didn't before. I'm not sure if I had passed out and regained consciousness or if it happened during a seizure but....Hannibal was in my house when I got home. I regained consciousness and I was looking up at him, dressed in a raincoat, with a tube shoved down my throat. I was so delirious that I couldn't fight it. I think he put the ear in my throat and medicine to make me throw it up. That's my proof," Will explained.

I stood there in silence. He couldn't have been serious.

He couldn't have been serious, right? I knew Hannibal spent a lot of time with Will. I wasn't sure if what Will said was true but psychological and physical manipulation was possible. But Hannibal wouldn't do that. Not to Will and not to me.

Right?

The car came to a stop at the doctor's office. I got out silently and made my way inside. My name was called and I was called to the back.

"So (Y/N), I see that you've been having symptoms of iron deficiency anemia. When did you start seeing symptoms?" The doctor questioned.

"A few months ago. But my past doctor warned me that I might be predisposed to it. He said some people have recessive traits that make anemia more likely," I explained.

"Well, he was right. Some people are predisposed. We can't be sure though until we draw some blood," he said, scribbling something down on his notepad.

A nurse came in moments later, drew two vials of blood from my arm, and then left to test them.

I sat on a chair, tapping my fingers on my knees. It would take a day or so to test the blood.

"May I ask how you and Hannibal know each other," I asked as I rolled down my sleeves and began to stand up.

"We went to the same university," he answered.

He walked me out of his office, making small talk as we made our way to the empty waiting room.

"Hannibal, it's good to see you," the doctor said as we entered the waiting room. He extended his hand and Hannibal shook it.

"It's good to see you too," Hannibal said.

"I think it's safe to say that you'll be okay, (Y/N). Anemia isn't life-threatening and can easily be treated if your blood test is positive. Are you sure that this is all you would like to talk about before you leave?" the doctor asked.

"I'm sure...well, no. I'm not. I do have one question," I stated.

My mind raced as Will's voice echoed in my head.

"What causes memory loss in the average person?" I questioned. Hannibal cocked his head to the side, intrigued by my question.

"Do you suspect you're having memory loss?" the doctor asked.

"I'm not sure," I said.

"Well, memory loss could be caused by many things. From physical injury, to mental illness, to underlying conditions," he explained.

"Okay. I was just...curious," I said.

"Well, okay. I'll call you when the test comes back," he said as he shook my hand.

I thanked the doctor and exited the building with Hannibal.

"Why the sudden interest in memory loss?" Hannibal questioned as he stuck the car key in the ignition.

"I can't remember passing out sometimes, Hannibal. I'm not sure if that's normal. I remember sometimes. Recently though, it's a blur," I said as I buckled my seat belt.

Hannibal didn't say anything as we drove back to my apartment. I unlocked the door and we both walked inside.

"I'm exhausted," I mumbled as I plopped down on the couch.

Hannibal stood near the door, seemingly deep in thought.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He walked over to the couch and sat down beside me, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into his chest. I rested my head on him and looked up.

"What are your thoughts on the recent Hobbs copycat?" he asked.

"I'm still not sure if it is a Hobbs copycat. It surely isn't Garret or Abigail because they're both dead," I said.

Hannibal hummed, tapping his fingers gently on my arm.

"I know you're still upset about Abigail. It's a shame they haven't found her body," I said, "I know you loved her like a father."

"And you had a motherly connection with her," Hannibal said.

I nodded, closing my eyes. Before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep on Hannibal.

My dreams were filled with the usual horrors. Flashes of decomposing bodies, Will in prison, Abigail's ear in the sink, and me and Hannibal at Jansen Farms.

Me and Hannibal at Jansen Farms?

Jansen Farms?

There I was. Plastic raincoat on and blue latex gloves. I saw flashes of the cornfield and running water.

Water flowing down a river.

I felt it flowing across my hands.

"Leave her there. It's almost time for you to wake up. Let's get you home."

I gasped as I sat up quickly. I was in a cold sweat. Looking around the darkness, I waited for my eyes to adjust.

"What on earth was that dream?" I thought to myself.

I attempted to take a few deep breaths but they were shallow, shaking from a feeling I knew all too well. Fear.

"How long have I been asleep?" I questioned in my head. I leaned over my bed, turning the lamp on.

The digital clock's green hue poured over my nightstand. 6:34 A.M.

I got out of bed and made my way into the living room. The living room lights were off but the kitchen light was on, glowing in the darkness. It was still dark outside but the sun would be up shortly. I slowly walked into the kitchen. The cold tile sent a shock down my spine.

I opened the refrigerator to get something to drink and there sat a plate with a dish covering on the top of it. On it was a yellow post-it note.

'I made you dinner. You wouldn't wake up once again so I moved you to your bed. Be sure to eat. I love you.' - Hannibal.

"Guess I'm having dinner for breakfast," I said to myself.

I took the plate out and took off the covering. On the plate appeared to be a small steak with mixed vegetables. I placed it in the microwave and began heating it up.

As I stood in the kitchen I heard my phone begin to ring from the coffee table in the living room. I walked over, turning on the light in the process.

My phone screen lit up. It was Jack Crawford.

"Hello," I said once I answered it.

"(Y/N), I hope I didn't wake you up," Jack said.

"You didn't. I was already up. What's going on?" I questioned.

"We got a dental sample. It just came back. Her name was Lucile Hobbs. It's Abigail's cousin," Jack said. His tone was very serious and for good reason.

"This isn't a copycat then, is it?" I questioned.

"No. This is either revenge or someone simply continuing Garrett's work. But that's not all. Apparently, the farmers weren't entirely truthful. One of them brought us a cellphone they found. Had their prints all over it....but it had hers on it as well. And two other people," Jack said.

"The killers, I suppose," I said as I leaned on the edge of the couch.

"Seems like it. We're running those now," he said. His voice was cold. I could tell he wasn't telling me everything.

"Well, I'm glad we finally got something that could lead us to a lead," I said.

"Yeah. I'll let you go, see you at work," he said. And with that, Jack hung up.

"Hmmm," I hummed, setting my phone down.

The microwave beeped from the kitchen and simultaneously there was a knock on the door.

I went over and opened it and there stood Hannibal. "Good morning," he said.

"Morning, come in," I greeted, letting him in.

"Did you just wake up?" Hannibal asked. I nodded as I walked back into the kitchen, setting out the plate on the counter. "Yeah, and Jack just called. Apparently one of those farmers found a cellphone. Jack says it's covered in prints. They're running them at the moment," I said as I got a fork out.

"Really? That's interesting," Hannibal said. He sat down at the dining room table.

"I'll split this with you," I offered as I sat down across from.

"No thank you, I just ate," he said.

Before I could begin eating my phone rang once again. Cursing under my breath, I got up and grabbed the phone. It was the doctor

"I have to take this," I said to Hannibal.

I answered the phone and walked over to the patio door, sliding the door open and going outside.

"Hello," I said.

"Hi, (Y/N). We have your blood results. Normally, I would wait a little to call but this is urgent," the doctor said across the line.

"Urgent? What's wrong?" I asked.

"Well, you tested positive for anemia," he said.

"That's okay. I wasn't really worried about that," I reassured.

"That's...not all. Your blood results show a small amount of arsenic and a high dosage of chloroform," he said.

My heart pounded and my mouth became dry.

"What?" I asked dumbfounded.

"It looks like you have been drugged not once but twice. Chronic arsenic toxicity can cause memory loss, confusion, and changes in behavior. If you've been struggling with memory, this is why," he said.

"Oh...okay. I....I...I'm going to have to call you back," I said, hanging up.

I sat there in shock. A cold chill ran up my spine. Goosebumps formed on my arms. I stood up. My legs wobbled and felt like jelly.

I slowly turned back inside, closing the patio door. Hannibal stood by the table, staring at me.

"Don't worry. The dosage I gave you wasn't fatal," he said.

I stared at him blankly, tears forming in my eyes.

"What did you do?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

"I think the real question is, "What did you do?" You know. Deep down," Hannibal said. He slowly began walking over to me. His entire demeanor had changed. There was something menacing behind his eyes.

"You drugged me? You...you drugged me," I trailed off, "Oh my god, Will was right."

Hannibal stood before me, inches away. He looked down at me, almost expressionless. His hand came up and caressed my face. I attempted to pull away but he simply grabbed me, pulling me towards him.

"What are you thinking? Is that darkness clouding your brain? What do you feel?" he questioned. I looked away, tears rushing down my face. He pushed my chin back towards him, making me look at him

"What did I do?" I asked.

"Try to remember," he said quietly.

I quickly remembered my dream of me and Hannibal at Jansen Farms. I soon realized that it wasn't a dream, it was a memory.

"Why were we at Jansen Farms?" I asked.

"I'm surprised you can honestly remember that. I must say you showed true compassion when you tried to put that fire out. You're not entirely filled with darkness," he stated, brushing his thumb over my lips, "but you're more capable of murder than you realize."

Then it truly hit me. I wasn't sure how to feel. The tears had come and gone. Now I was left with an empty feeling.

"We killed Lucile Hobbs?" I asked quietly. I knew the answer, but I needed to hear it. It didn't feel real.

"Yes," he answered.

"And Abigail Hobbs?" I questioned.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," he said. He pulled me into his embrace and kissed my forehead. I didn't run. I didn't fight. I stood there, wrapped in Hannibal's arms, completely in shock. I don't think I would be able to run even if I tried.

Never in my life did I expect two murders to be standing in my living room. And I would have never expected one of them to be me.

290 notes · View notes

kpop-hive · 2 years

Text

What Can I Do For You Today?

Doctor!Hongjoong x Patient!Reader

Warnings⚠️: Sex, Oral (Male and Female) Receiving, Dirty Talk, Slight Voyeurism?, Groping?, Praise Kink

“The doctor will see you now miss (L/n).” The nurse called your name as you walked out of the waiting room. You hated the doctor and the only reason you were here was for one stupid check up that you wanted to avoid. You walked into the room, the atmosphere of the doctor’s office always gave you chills, it was cold, draining and boring all together.

“Okay miss (L/n), I’m going to check your height and weight. Shoes off, and let’s begin.” You removed your shoes and stepped on the scale. She weighed you and wrote it down on the clipboard. She then measured your height and wrote it down as well.

“Okay, so that’s all done, follow me into room nine.” You walked behind when she opened the door to room nine. This room being colder than the previous room you were both in. “Alright miss (L/n), Mr. Kim will be in with you in just a minute for your checkup.” She says before leaving the room and closing the door before you heard the sound of the clipboard being put into the basket on the front of the door. You thought to yourself about the name Mr. Kim, that name was not familiar, your primary doctor was always Mr. Jeong, but you guessed he was off for today. You heard the door open, and the doctor walked in. What you’d didn’t expect was to see the finest doctor you ever laid eyes on.

“Hello, I’m Mr. Kim, miss (L/n), nice to meet you.” He said holding out his hand for you to shake. You were still stuck in a frozen position, still at awe from how he looked. Smirking, he grabbed your attention. “I don’t bite miss (L/n).” He joked. “Right, yeah sorry so nice to meet you, and you can call me (Y/n).” You replied while shaking his hand. “Pretty name.” He smiled. Oh God, his smile, it definitely made the cold room warm up from how warm the smile was, it was the first feature you laid eyes on, he was definitely someone you would come back to see.

“I know I’m not your primary doctor, but Mr. Jeong is out today, he had a family emergency, so I’m filling in for him, I hope you don’t mind.” Mr. Kim stated. “No I don’t mind, I bet you’re a great doctor Mr. Kim.” You replied. “You can call me Hongjoong.” He smiled.

“Okay, so let me ask you a few quick questions. Have you felt sick lately? Cold, Flu, Bad Allergies?” “No.” You answered. “Are you eating well, every portion?” “Yes.” “Are you taking any primary medications every day?” “Birth Control Pill, Iron Vitamins, and that’s it.” “Birth Control pills, are you sexually active?” “Yes and no, haven’t had sex in a year, but not active right now.” You said kind of looking down from the invasive questions. “Any injuries that you have sustained over the last thirty days, any pains or anything?” “Well, I’ve had a few back problems lately, I’ll usually soothe it with a heating pad, and my neck is a little stiff as well.” “Mm, it maybe your mattress that is causing that soreness in your neck and back, I’ll take a look at that and decide if you need any pain medication for it. Now let’s take a look at everything. First I’m gonna take your temperature.” He said. He got the thermometer and inserted it into your ear. You heard it beep before he pulled it out of your ear looking at the temperature.

“96.5, your healthy as a duck.” He joked making you giggle. “I’m gonna take a look at your eyes, ears, and mouth now.” He said before disposing the cap of the thermometer. He used on you. He grabbed another black cap to put on the bright light. He started with your ears first, using the light to view anything odd.

“Okay, nothing off in your ears, you do well with cleaning them.” He mentioned, almost making you chuckle, him being this close in your personal space was really comforting to you. He moved the light to your eyes next, viewing anything odd about them. “Eyes are looking great, pupils dilate from light, they’re very moist, so you’re getting a good amount of water.” Your mind was fixated on him saying moist, water wasn’t the only thing on your mind when he said that.

“Lastly, I need to check your mouth, now open wide for me.” He said before grabbing a wooden stick. You open your mouth as wide as you could, Hongjoong shined the light inside as the stick pushed your tongue down slightly to view the back of your throat showing your uvula. “Well we know one thing, (Y/n), your definitely getting your hydration in.” He commented. He removed the light and the stick and discarded it before placing the ear pieces of his stethoscope in his ear.

“I’m about to hear your heartbeat real quick, so I need you to take a big breath for me.” You inhaled as he told you to before exhaling. He continued to move the stethoscope around your body, the closest he’s been to you this entire time. “Alright, your super healthy. Heartbeat’s good.” He said before removing the stethoscope from his ears and placing it on the counter.

“Now, before you go, I wanna check on your neck and your back real quick since you mentioned that they were hurting is that okay?” “Perfect.” You responded. “Great, flip over for me.” He said in a low tone. You laid down on your tummy and moved your hair to the side, exposing your neck and back.

“Okay, I’m going to feel around and you tell me where it hurts.” He began at your neck, starting at the sides. “Does it hurt here?” Hongjoong asked. “No.” He moved up towards the back of the neck. “Here?” “A little sore there.” You replied. “He moved to the center part of your neck where it hurt the most. “Here?” “Right there.” You winced. “Okay okay, don’t worry, I got you.” He felt around, feeling a few knots in it. “You have quite a few knots in your neck. Are you stressed at work?” He asked. “A little, and I think my mattress isn’t helping either.” “Yeah, if you don’t have the right mattress it can be a killer on your body.” He commented. “Now let’s examine your back, let me know where it hurts.” “Okay.” You replied. You enjoy the feeling of his hands on your body, they felt nice. His hands moved towards the center and sides of your back where it hurt the most, causing you to jump at the sudden pain.

“Right there!” You gasped. You could’ve sworn Hongjoong froze up at the sudden outburst of pain. “Alright so a lot of pain in your back, I believe it’s definitely the mattress at this point.” He explained. “Me too.” You realized his hands never left your body, and you liked how they stayed at your pain areas, what surprised you the most was when he began to massage the areas with his own hands.

“I recommend a state of the art masseuse, someone that could help out with those knots and kinks.” He said still massaging you. His hands moved down lower towards the lower part of your back. “Does it still hurt here (Y/n)?” He asked you in a whisper. “Yeah, it does.” You lied, you felt like he was teasing you, you noticed his demeanor changed no longer sounding louder with his questions, his voice was more laidback, chill, and deep, dragging out every word. His hands then traveled to your ass slowly, hands grazing it smoothly through your dress that you wearing, the material making it curve out even more today.

“M-mr. Kim…” You trailed off. “Hmm?” He replied. “I think my body is feeling a little sore all over.” You teased. “Well maybe you need a stress reliever.” He commented. “I think I do.” He stopped massaging your ass before helping you sit upright on the bar. “If your body hurts, I’m gonna prescribe you some good medicine for that pain.” He said inches away from your face. “What is it?” “One session of you taking my cock a day.” He said before closing the gap and kissing you finally. Your hands automatically grabbed at his hair as he kissed you. From the way his lips moved you could tell he was an excellent kisser. You moaned into the kiss as it deepened, his hands moved to your waist massaging it well, taking note of your pain areas.

He moved his mouth towards your chest before pulling down your dress and your bra, exposing your breasts, your nipples hardening quickly from the cold room. He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, causing you to mewl. “H-Hongjoong.” You whined. He groaned into your chest before switching to the other nipple, doing the same exact thing. He trailed down to your stomach and thighs, moving the short dress above them. “Take it off.” He commanded. You removed the dress and completely took off your bra, giving him access to your entire body.

“You take care of yourself very well, (Y/n).” He groaned. “Thank you.” You giggled. “He kissed your thighs, giving them the affection that they deserved, before spreading them open to view your wet slick, you were glad you forgot to put on panties today.

“No panties? Naughty girl.” He smirked. He took in your pussy, looking at it glistening from the harsh light. “Such a pretty pussy baby. I think it needs a closer examination though.” He said before leaning down to lick your slit slowly. “Fuck.” You panted. His eyes kept their focus on you and your movements. “Does that feel good?” He asked before going towards your clit to lick before wrapping his lips around it. “Ah! Yes! Mr. Kim!” You moaned. He actually liked you calling him Mr. Kim, it made him feel more dominant than he seemed to be.

He continued his assault on your pussy, making you moan, whine, and whimper a little too loud. Needing you to be quiet, he removed his fingers from your thigh and trailed them up your skin before they reached your lips as he looked at you, looking back, you knew what to do. Your lips wrapped around his index and middle fingers quickly, making Hongjoong groan into your pussy at the warm feeling of your mouth on his fingers.

He used his other hand to tease your entrance before sliding in two of his fingers while his lips and tongue still occupied your clit. The way his fingers moved in and out of you as he did fantastic movements with his tongue made you feel some type of way. You groaned around his fingers as he used a scissoring technique inside of you. “Fuck!” You moaned around his fingers. “You’re so tight baby.” You clenched around his fingers making him groan into you again, the vibrations on your clit threw you over the edge as your back arched off the wall, riding out the high. Hongjoong removed his fingers quickly and detached his mouth from your clit, before placing his hands on your back.

“Don’t get too riled up, we don’t want your back to get worse.” He said. The fact that he was still concerned about your back made you realize how great of a doctor he was. He always made sure you, his patient came first, and that was an admirable trait.

“I need to check your mouth again (Y/n).” He smirked before unbuckling his pants and sitting down on one of the chest chairs. He pulled down his pants as his cock sprang up causing you to gasp. “Ready beautiful?” You nodded before climbing down from the high bench, legs still wobbling from the previous orgasm you just had.

You got down on your knees and began to pump his shaft a little, precum grazing the tip. You gave him a little kitten lick before taking him into your mouth. “Good girl.” He moaned. You bobbed your head up and down moaning against him, enjoying this a little too much, but who wouldn’t enjoy sucking someone off as sexy as Hongjoong is? You used your tongue to move around his shaft, giving him immense pleasure. Hongjoong’s head is thrown back giving you the perfect view of him enjoying this 100%.

“Fuck baby, that mouth is good.” He said before his hand moved to your face, removing some hair out of your face as you looked at him with large pupils. “You’re so pretty, taking my cock like that and looking at me with those beautiful eyes.” He groaned.

You began to trail back up to his cock to suck at the sensitive tip, sucking at it while your tongue grazed his slit. His hands moved to the arm of the chair as a reaction. “Fuck, keep doing that baby, I’m gonna cum.” He moaned. You continued the same action until you felt warm spurts hit the back of your throat as Hongjoong came, his mouth parted, head thrown back, you love seeing him like this. You took every last drop until he gave you no more. You stood back up to see that Hongjoong has discarded his coat and now has his tight white tee on display, seeing his pecks through his shirt was more than enough proof that he takes care of his body.

“Are you ready for that stress reliever, (Y/n)?” He asked. “Please.” You whined. “Get back on the table, lay down.” Hongjoong commanded as he looked in the storage closet to grab a thick folded thermal blanket before lifting up your back carefully and placing it underneath you to support your back. He stood firmly in front of you on the table before lifting your legs slightly looking at you tight entrance. His dick stood at attention as he lined himself up with you, he looked to you for permission and you nodded your head rapidly, not wanting to waste any more time. Finally, he slid into your entrance with ease feeling the tightness that your walls gave him as he bottomed out.

“Ah, so tight.” Hongjoong moaned. “Only for you.” You replied. It didn’t take long for you to adjust, your arousal was literally dripping on the table as he began to move in and out of you at an incredibly slow pace. “F-faster.” You whined. “What’s my name, baby?” “H-Hongjoong!” You moaned, pleading to his game to get your brains fucked out. “Good girl.” He spread your legs open a little more, using his hands to hold your thighs apart as he sped up, pounding into harder. The blanket on your back made the feeling better not only for your back and neck, but for your pussy as well, the elevation made you feel every inch of Hongjoong’s cock moving inside of you.

With one hard thrust, Hongjoong was able to reach your g-spot at ease. “Hongjoong right there!” You screamed. “Fuck, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum.” Hongjoong grunted. He leaned over you a little, shifting his weight as he tried to reach his peak, the harsh thrusts made his pelvis rub against your clit, bringing you to your orgasm as well, it took one more thrust for your orgasm to wash over you, Hongjoong following behind you. “Fuck (Y/n)…”

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)?” Hongjoong asked trying to get your attention. “Huh!” You responded. Did you really just daydream about fucking your own doctor!? “I said that you are probably stressed from the work you’ve been doing, and you may need a new mattress.” He said. “Oh.” You were still out of it from the seemingly real dream. “I’m going recommend a little bit of time and care into your neck and back, I wrote down the best chiropractor, masseuse, and spa around, and I want you to check them out, there’s also a special number to call if you need a any help.” He smiled. “Thank you Mr. Kim.” You smiled back. “Well, you’ve passed your check up and now you are free away from this place for another year. Enjoy the rest of your day.” “Thank you again.” You said walking out the door.

You couldn’t believe it, you really daydreamed about fucking your doctor. ‘Were you that horny?’ You looked down at the small piece of paper that showed the number along with the words of chiropractor, masseuse, and spa, ‘I guess they all stay at the same place.’ You thought. You also noticed a few textured markings on the back as well. You flipped it over finding something you didn’t expect.

“Give me a call sometime darling. -Hongjoong ;)” With nothing to say you froze and steadily headed to your car driving away ready to give him a call to help you with the care you needed. To say the least your dream was definitely about to become a reality.

197 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines · 3 years

Text

Escape Artists

Fandom: Halloween/Slashers

Pairing: Michael Myers X Reader

Warnings: Murder, mention of parental abuse, lightly-written smut (not too descriptive).

Words: 2.4k

He had seen her around the hospital numerous times. She was always sat surrounded by those weird beads that she made designs with, only to have to hand them to one of the nurses who always seemed glad to iron the pattern for her.

Despite having seen her and observed her, Michael had never actually interacted with the girl. Sure, she was interesting, seemingly too innocent to be sat in Smiths Groves, but he wouldn’t talk to her; he wouldn’t talk to anybody. This was how he lived. Day in, day out. Never talking to a soul and nobody willingly talking to him. That was how Michael liked it which is why he couldn’t help but be irritated by the person who was interrupting his mealtime.

“Hi,” in front of Michael stood the bead girl, nervously fiddling with her fingers. “I-I made this for you.” Before he knew it, Michaels hand now held a beaded blushing panda.

He was tempted to snap the poor thing in half, and he would have had he not felt a piece of paper stuck to the back with the crappy tape the sanitorium provides.

“Don’t look yet, look when you’re alone.” She said, leaving with a short nod.

He listened to her words, going to the bathroom, the one place he was allowed to be alone, to read whatever note was scribbled on the paper.

Do you want to escape with me, Michael?

Confusion overtook his mind, the creaking of the tiled walls being the only thing he could fully register.

Not only did she know his name, but she also wanted to escape with him?

Weirdo.

He simply shrugged it off.

“Morning, Y/N,” a kind nurse awoke the young girl from her peaceful slumber, something that was rare for her. “Here is your medicine.”

“Thank you, Nurse Green.”

Her small hands grasped the bottle of water they provided her each morning, spare hand now filled with the medication she took daily before gulping down all nine of them with one mouthful of water.

Yesterdays interaction with Michael still plagued her mind.

She knew what he had done to his sister, everybody did, but still he was the only person she somewhat trusted her. Not that she had ever actually spoke to him of course, even though she was exceptionally kind to all those on the ward. She simply hoped he had read the note.

Lunchtime came round quite quickly, Y/N refusing to part with her beads and Michael nowhere to be seen, something that wasn’t uncommon.

Her fingers picked out another green bead to add to her new creation, a soft smile gracing her lips as she fit the final bead into the pattern, creating an amazing leaf. She looked up with a smile on her face, ready to show the nurse only to be met with Michael face, head tilted to the side.

“Oh,” she spoke quietly, evidently shocked at the older boy’s presence. “Hi, Michael.” Her kindness didn’t falter however, the shocked look on her face quickly forming back into the smile she wore previously.

Michaels hand reached out to grab the box of beads, pulling it towards him along with a square pegboard. He quickly got to work making a pattern, something that was done in mere minutes, pushing it back towards Y/N before leaving, not sparing her a single glance as he went back to his room.

Confused, Y/N pulled the board towards her. On it was a perfectly designed tombstone, yet it was masked as a grey brick, something Michael knew the nurses wouldn’t pick up on, only someone that was looking or expecting it would. However, beneath the board was a small slip of paper, something that caused her Y/E/C orbs to widen, quickly yet carefully sliding the paper into the pocket of her knitted sweatshirt.

“He what?” Loomis’s voice was loud, booming throughout the office. “He interacted with another patient?”

The nurses were unable to tell whether he was scared or happy at this news.

Michael had never interacted with another patient before, never interacted with anyone at all so this was a big surprise to him.

“Leave this to me,”

Yes.

This one word was floating around Y/N’s mind for the entire night.

He wants to escape with her? Michael Myers wants to escape with her? It was something she could not refuse, so she got to writing.

Over the following months the two shared notes through the beads they would both make. Nobody had spotted this yet, the scheme too smart for the nurses and doctors alike at Smiths Grove. Loomis had been keeping a close eye on the pair, looking for something significant that he could use against Michael but there was nothing yet, nothing at all.

The girl was sat at her usual table, alone for once which was uncommon for her. She wouldn’t have been alone had she not told the usual people that she wished to be alone today.

She was waiting.

Waiting for Michael.

A small sense of glee filled her chest when she noticed him walk into the cafeteria, a small smile following suite. The smile only dropped when he ignored her presence, walking towards where he usually sat. He must have sensed her gaze, glancing up to catch her sight before glancing at the chair opposite him, a silent hint for her to come over which she gladly did.

“Hi,”

Michael didn’t give her a verbal response, something she was used to by now, he instead looked towards her hands that held her most recent pattern: a pink milk carton. She eagerly passed it to him, watching him closely for any sign of reaction as he observed it, the two unaware that somebody else was also watching him.

“I want you to cut all communication between Michael and Y/N,” Loomis seemed to have come up with a plan of his own. “We’ll see how he reacts to that.”

“Yes, Dr Loomis.”

Y/N sat at the desk in her room, spinning the board around the wood with her finger.

“Why am I stuck in here?” Her tone expressed how fed up she was of being confined her for the entire day. “I’m bored.”

“Why don’t you make something?”

“Why am I here?”

“A doctor wants to see you.”

“I’ve seen all the doctors. Which one?”

“Dr Loomis.”

Oh, so it worked, good to know.

A few hours later she was seated on her bed, legs crossed with her pigtails falling down to her knee.

“We’ve met before, Y/N. After you were first sent here.” Loomis did his best to be friendly, hiding the burning curiosity and urge to ask her everything he wanted in one go.

“Yes, Dr Loomis.” Her tone was friendly, also forced.

She was waiting. Waiting for-

An excruciating loud beep blared throughout the entire ward, signalling a door had been opened by one of the patients.

Loomis’s eyes widened, worried that it was Michael who had escaped. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye before rushing off, forgetting to lock the door on the way out, something the pair had planned.

Y/N had half expected their planned escape car to be gone by the time she had finished running to the door, Michael probably having using her to escape. Weirdly enough, he was sat there waiting for her, something that made her smile as she hopped into the car.

Their plan, something that had been in the works for an insane amount of time, had worked. Every part of it had gone how they had planned.

“Thank you,” Y/N’s voice was as soft as always, glancing at Michael whose eyes were focused on the road, seemingly dismissing her appreciation.

He wasn’t however. He was silently grateful for her. She had stuck by him, his quiet and rude self. She knew what he had done and had still accepted him, he could see it in her face. He assumed she was simply in for depression or something of the sort, uncaring as to why because all he cared about was leaving and finishing what he had started, but something about her drew him in and he began getting somewhat attached to the girl.

The pair drove for hours, having to stop by to get gas before pulling into an abandoned place far away from the main road so that nobody could find them.

“Do you want a drink?” Michael gave her a confused look as she sat on the car, hand stretched out to hand him a bottle. “It’s weird you know,” she continued speaking after he took the bottle from her hand and sat beside her, “I never thought I’d make it to adulthood.”

This further proved his point of her having depression.

“Not that I’m depressed or suicidal or anything. I just thought I’d die by now.” This simply confused Michael. If she wasn’t in there for depression, what was she in for?

The nights sky hung over the pair, stars being one of the only things lighting the place, supported by the car’s lights.

Y/N seemed to sense his confusion.

“Oh, you don’t know what I’m in for? Well, was in for.” Michael simply shook his head.

“I killed someone. My dad. He used to hurt me, physically, mentally, emotionally and a few other things. My mother just watched it all happen, so I tried to kill her as well but she got away and I was dragged there.”

Michael nodded as to show that he understood.

“It’s weird. When I was younger, I always thought I’d be a popular eighteen-year-old with a boyfriend, a lot of friends and all that stuff. I never thought I’d be here,” her gaze fell on Michael, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if I am a virgin.” Y/N made sure to finish her sentence off with a joke, hoping to ease the tension she felt whilst expressing her emotions whilst continuing to stare up at the sky, oblivious to the thoughts running through Michaels head, his face not showing any signs either.

Y/N jumped at the cold sensation of Michaels hand touching her bare thigh, goosebumps rising beneath her dress. “Michael?” She turned to face the unmasked man, only to be pushed to lean against the back of the car with attempted gentleness. “Michael?” She repeated, growing even more confused as he lifted himself over her, able to feel her heart pound.

She didn’t fear him, she had never feared him; he’d never given her a reason. Sure he could be rude towards her, but never fear-inducing, never to her.

“Michael?”

Her words were silenced as Michaels body crawled onto her own, his chest pressed against hers, both hearts racing, despite Michael’s calm composure and Y/N’s confused look. Her eyes widened as she felt Michaels lips against her neck, roughly sucking with such force that she knew it would leave a mark.

A soft moan left her lips when Michael’s hand wandered down to her chest, lightly toying with her nipples before grabbing her breast, massaging it as he did so. The moans that left her lips simply increased Michael’s urges, his desires; he wanted her, and it seemed like she wanted him too.

“Michael-“she murmured, fingers looping themselves in the strands of his hair as he nipped at her skin.

Her free hand ran down his front, searching for his clothed erection which she soon founds, enjoying the breathy moan that Michael made as she slid her hand into his pants. It was quiet, but not quiet enough. Michael’s own hand reached into her own panties, finger soaking up the wetness that had formed at his touch, something that almost made him smirk.

Another moan fell from Y/N’s lips as Michael’s fingers began to explore, the tightness she felt was almost too tight, yet Michael was surprisingly gentle considering who he was. This time Michael couldn’t resist his smirk, being thankful for the fact that his face was buried into the crook of her neck, marking her as his and his only.

Her grip on his hair tightened as he slipped another finger inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust before slowly moving. It wasn’t long before pleasure began to consume her, grip tightening on his hair further as she neared her end.

“M-Michael,” she moaned. “I want you,”

He seemed happy to comply, fingers leaving her heat to unclothe his member. He waited for a moment, searching Y/N’s eyes for any sort of hesitation before sliding in, giving her time to adjust.

“I’m ready, you can move.”

His movements were slow to begin with, giving it his best attempt at not hurting her, something that was incredibly hard for his rough self, but self-restraint can be a magical thing. It wasn’t until the word ‘more’ left her lips that he finally increased his movements.

The cold of the cars metal caused shivers to run down Y/N’s spine, made worse by Michael’s cold hands running across her, now bare, body as moans filled the air.

“I-I’m close,”

Her words only increased his movements more, desperate to reach both their ends. Michael’s hand moved down to her clit, harshly rubbing in hopes that in would held her meet her own release, which it did and she came with one final moan, her sudden tightness triggering Michael’s own orgasm as he came inside of her, their juices mixing together.

Cheeks flushed, both Y/N and Michael wordlessly laid against the car’s windscreen. Deciding to test the waters, Y/N leant herself against Michael’s shoulder, silently pleased when he showed no sign of rejection.

He was surprisingly warm, heating up her cold body in the cool night’s air; she never expected him to be so warm. She lightly wrapped her hand around his upper arm, snuggling herself into his shoulder before falling asleep.

Michael stared at the sleeping girl, confused and shocked at how she had so much trust in him, despite what he had done. It was oddly reassuring to him. Once certain she was asleep, he raised his hand to move a stray strand of hair from her face before falling asleep himself.

“Goodnight, Y/N,”

933 notes · View notes

duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Note

Hello, darling! I was wondering if you could right some Bucky x reader, where the reader worked along Sharon during Civil War and she meets Bucky. Then she runs always with Sharon and meets Bucky again in Madripoor and continue their story. I hope that makes sense. Thank yooouuuu✨✨✨

hey babes!! yes i absolutely can! i kind of gave more background than i meant to making it way longer, but i hope you enjoy it anyway! i do want to continue this story and most definitely will be so be on the lookout for the other parts of it lovie <3. i hope you still enjoy it even though it isn’t quite what you asked for yet :)

A Friend of Yours

FATWS SPOILERS

warnings: not much, canon lvl violence, some suggestive stuff closer towards to end, language, i think that’s it

word count: 6140 i went a bit overboard, it’s fine i’m totally fine

a/n: i got this request and then didn’t stop writing all day. i didn’t get anything else done all day. i got home at like seven-ish? and i’ve been sitting on the floor of my bedroom just writing this fic (for context it is now 12:47 pm where i’m at)

check out A Friend of Yours - pt. 2 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 3

p.s.: this is the first fic that i’m writing with an actual ‘x reader’ i’m so proud

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

******************************

You grew up with Sharon, the two of you were best friends from birth it seemed. Honestly, Peggy raised you more than your own parents did. When Aunt Peggy got Sharon her first thigh holster, she got you one too. You enlisted together, moved up the ranks together, everything. So, it was of no shock to anyone that after the fall of SHIELD, you both moved together into the CIA’s Joint Terrorism Task Force.

You were inside the hotel with Sharon, Steve and Sam when the bombing on the UN took place. The look of unbridled fear that fell over Steve’s face as they announced Barnes as the primary suspect was heart wrenching. You weren’t able to watch it for long because your phone was already ringing off the hook.

“Look, you need to get me more information, and now.” You gritted into your phone speaker before quickly hanging up the phone and turning to a crestfallen Steve who was still watching the news casting. Sharon ended her phone call and turned to you.

“We have to go to work.” A few short hours on a jet later, you and Sharon were coordinating the operation. Close by, Steve and Sam were awaiting new information. Steve had this insane plan to find Barnes before the whole rest of the world did. Like that’s going to happen, it took the world 70 years to find Barnes. Of course, Steve and Sam are going to find him in about half that time.

You followed the blonde woman into a busy coffee shop and up to the counter. She slid a manila folder over to a well disguised Captain America. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everyone thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of it’s just noise, except this.” Sharon was talking quietly, trying to not draw attention to the fact that she was committing a serious offense.

“We have to give the briefing, like now Shar, so we have to go.” The two of you pushed off the counter and you turned quickly to say one last thing. “And you better hurry. They’ve given the order to shoot on site.”

You left the shop quickly and made your way back to the white tent, passing the redheaded spy who was watching you like a hawk. A look of understanding crossed her features as you kept a calm facade. She fucking knows, how the hell could she read you that easily?

*********************************

The next time you saw any of them, they were exiting the back of an armored prison van. It was no surprise that his eyes flitted over to his best friend from childhood. You glanced over at Barnes, who was strapped in all different ways, and your heart hurt for him. You tried not to pity him, you know you would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist from Aunt Peggy about it.

Bucky must’ve felt you looking at him because his steel blue eyes locked with your pair. This was the first time that you’ve ever actually seen the man in person. It was startling, in a good way. You grew up going to the Smithsonian and hearing Aunt Peggy’s stories about the great James Buchanan Barnes. You never thought that you’d get the chance to meet the man you did a history report on your freshman year of high school.

“Y/N?” Sharon’s voice cut through your thoughts, recalling you to reality and out of your past. “We have to go. We’ve been assigned to monitor Steve and Sam while they’re here.” Sharon was clearly not a fan of this, which made you laugh loudly.

“Oh, score! We get to babysit Captain America and the Falcon!” You spoke in an unnecessarily upbeat voice and then clapped your hands together. “Our dream job! Let’s go, Shar!” She stared at you for a millisecond before slapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, you fucking dork.” You followed her through the office building into the control room where you observed Tony talking to Steve. Apparently, the conversation was not going well because both their faces held angry glares. Eventually, Tony left the room, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts and that can never be good.

“How you doing, Cap?” You asked as you less-than-gracefully plopped yourself into the chair across from him. He looked over at me and released a heavy sigh.

“Honestly, Y/N, not that great at the moment.” He looked at you with his iconic mom Steve stare. Wow, so that’s what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that. Sam walked in and sat next to you. You drowned out their conversation as your gaze focused on screens outside of the glass office.

The video feed of Barnes in his metal cage was displayed on a TV screen. How is this considered humane? Obviously you knew that the CIA had pushed boundaries in the past, but this was just insane. “Are those restraints really necessary?” Sam seemed to be just voicing his thoughts, not expecting a response back.

“Well, he is considered an international terrorist, so yeah, they’re kind of necessary.” You said quickly and then muttered under your breath, “No matter who thinks that it’s excessive.” Steve’s gaze met yours and he was about to speak when Sharon walked in and dropped a paper in front of Sam.

“The receipt for your gear.” A scoff sounded from Sam as he glared at Sharon.

“‘Bird costume’? Come on.” Always quick to defend your best friend.

“Hey, we didn’t write it up.” It came off snappier than you had meant it. Sharon shot you a look, signaling you to back off. You raised a brow at her as she leaned over the table to the intercom buttons.

The audio from Barnes’ evaluation echoed through the glass room. Everyone around you was unsuspecting the four of you listened in. The psychologist was talking to Barnes, who seemed incredibly closed off. Who could blame the guy though?

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?” The psychologist paused for a second, looking down and off to the side. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” The caged man spoke for the first time.

“My name is Bucky.” His voice was rough from not being used. A look crossed Steve’s face and he turned to Sharon.

“Why would the Task Force release that photo to begin with?” Sharon’s body turned to face the man speaking to her. Her brows furrowed while she answered.

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Your head tilted, trying to follow Steve’s train of thought.

“Right. Good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Oh shit.

“You’re saying someone framed him?” You wanted to believe it with every fiber in your being.

“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam reminded in a calm tone.

“Yeah, you didn’t bomb the UN though. That turns quite a few heads. Especially if prominent people like King T’Chaka end up dead because of it.” You made a good point, but there were still pieces missing.

“That doesn’t guarantee that they would find him. It guaranteed that we would.” Sharon and Steve began examining the room around them. Your attention returned to the audio emitting from the intercom.

“You fear that,“ the doctor paused, “if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry.” He glanced down again and moved his hand to swipe something away.

“Guys?” You pointed to the screen as the doctor held up his pointer finger.

“We only have to talk about one.” All of the sudden, the screens went dark and the lights flickered off. Secretary Ross was yelling at technicians to get his video back. Tony was speaking to his AI, Friday, about locating the source of the outage. Steve and Sam tensed at the thought of what could be going on with Barnes.

“Sub-level five, east wing.” was all Sharon said as the pair ran off. You looked at her and threw your hands in the air.

“What the hell do we do now, Shar?” She glared at you as she started reasoning with you.

“They’re stronger than we are. If they can contain whatever the hell is happening down there then great. In the event that they can’t, we’ll be up here with Natasha and Tony to deal with it.” You nodded quickly as you both ran out of the room.

You quickly followed Natasha, Tony and Sharon to the main level of the building. Clearly Steve and Sam were unsuccessful in containing the situation because Barnes could be seen through the glass, fighting his way to his destination.

Tony stunned Barnes with a previously concealed Iron Man glove. Barnes started towards Tony and quickly attacked. After Barnes bested Tony, it wasn’t long before Natasha rushed the man alongside Sharon. It wasn’t hard for Barnes to throw Sharon across the room. Natasha took the opportunity to launch herself onto his shoulders, which caused Barnes to slam her into a table with his metal hand wrapped around her neck.

She mumbled something to him as you kicked his ribs, releasing his chokehold on her. He stumbled backwards, his hard gaze landed on yours as he approached. Your eyes locked on his as the two of you traded blows.

They weren’t the same eyes as before. Those eyes were soft and remorseful, these were hard and unattached. There was no emotion behind the pair staring at you. The fraction of a second that you were analyzing his eyes in your head was enough for him to catch you off guard. His metal fist landed in your rib cage. The opposite hand jabbed at your face, busting your lip and sending you flying backwards.

You hit your head on the concrete below, making your eyes roll back. The wind left your lungs and you gasped to get it back as Barnes and T’Challa fought in the background. It was a few minutes later that a concerned Sharon made her way over to you.

“Are you okay?” You looked her over as she did you, checking for any severe injuries. You offered a small nod, not wanting to shake your head too much in fear of a concussion. “Let’s go check in with Ross.”

******************

“And how the hell did Rogers and Wilson even know where to find Barnes?” Ross’ voice boomed through the office. No one said anything, not wanting to incur the wrath of Secretary Ross. “I’ve already allowed Stark 36 hours to find them and bring them back here.” Ross turned to you and Sharon standing in the corner of the room. “If they contact any of you, report it immediately.” Rounds of ‘yes, sirs’ bounced around the room, then chaos ensued as everyone got back to trying to clean up this mess.

“Carter. Y/L/N. Elevator now.” He raised two fingers to point toward the elevators before walking into one. It was just the three of you in the enclosed space. He clicked the button for the ground floor. “I know you have some kind of connection to Rogers but do not let that cloud your judgement. The both of you are CIA agents first.”

“We understand, Secretary.” The elevator doors opened again and you went to step out when Ross stopped you again.

“I mean it, girls. This is your job on the line here.” You and Sharon shared a look before continuing walking. Did he just call us girls?

“Do you think that was supposed to be intimidating?” You laughed under your breath as you went out to the parking lot. Sharon sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Probably.” She looked at you over the top of her car. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Where do we start?”

****************************

Getting that fucking shield and bird suit wasn’t easy. They had moved it from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre to the US Embassy to await transport back to the States. It made it easier but still damn near impossible to get. Thankfully, you and Sharon are good liars. Skills of a misspent youth.

The two of you walked in the front door and displayed your badges. “We’re here to pick up Captain America and the Falcon’s effects.” The man behind the counter didn’t even question it. Man, they need better people at the Embassy.

“You’ll have to sign some paperwork saying you picked it up.” There it is. You both flicked a brow and Sharon held her hand out for the clipboard. Small scratches from the pen in her hand were echoing throughout the empty building.

She handed the clipboard back to the man behind the counter. “Okie dokie, just pull your car around to the side of the building and we’ll get you loaded up.” He shot them a small smile and turned around to file the papers.

“That was easy enough.” You whispered to Sharon as you left, not wanting your voice to carry. You walked to your car that was parked in front of the iron wrought gate. Pulling your car around to the side of the building, you popped the trunk. The gear clad Embassy soldier carelessly tossed Sam’s suit inside before gently placing the shield on top of it.

“Hey, if there’s a scratch on that suit, it’s coming out of your paycheck buddy.” You held your pointer finger up to the man’s unimpressed face.

“Y/N, let’s go. We’ve got to get these to the jet or Ross will have our heads. Remember it’s our job on the line here.” What Sharon said made you laugh big while hauling yourself back into the driver’s seat of the car. As you pulled out into the street, Sharon was typing away on her phone and pushing it to her ear.

“This is a secure line but I don’t know for how long, so don’t talk just listen.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “We want to help. Meet us under the bridge on Route 6. We’ll be there in two hours.” She ended the call quickly and threw the phone outside the car. Glancing over at you, she nodded and sighed again.

“We’ve gotten this far.” You had one question burning in your throat that you were afraid to ask.

“Where do we go after they’ve gone?” She looked at you and she was biting her lip, something she only did when she was incredibly stressed.

“I don’t know yet. Do you have any ideas?” You smiled and thought of the one place that you wouldn’t be followed.

“Yeah, I’ve got one, but it’s rough.”

***************************

The drive to the underpass wasn’t a hard one. You had beat the boys there so you and Sharon were sitting in the car. You had the radio playing softly in the background.

“Who the hell do you know in Madripoor?” You laughed and shrugged.

“I’m supposed to tell you all my secrets for free?” You shook your head and shifted in your seat to face her fully. “I was tasked with tracking some artwork down there. One of my assignments when we went through initiation for the Agency.” You picked at the holes in your jeans. “I thought it was just all fake stuff, but I researched it more and more. Turns out, the underground artwork dealing is really lucrative over there.”

Sharon stared at you in amazement. “What did you do, Y/N?” You smirked.

“I haven’t done anything.” You held her gaze, “Yet.” She released a small laugh and her mouth hung open a bit. “I may have a warehouse out there.” You squinted one of your eyes, and leaned forward. “And the apartment above it.” She was going to say something when an old ass blue Beetle pulled up behind you.

“Now how the fuck did they all fit in that tiny ass car?” You both laughed as you stepped out of the car with big smiles on your faces.

“Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car.” Steve walked up to Sharon and they began talking as she popped the trunk, revealing their gear. Your attention was on the men in the car behind them. Barnes was stuck in the back away from cameras and Sam was lounging in the passenger seat. Your eyes met Barnes’ again, they were back to the remorseful pair you saw the first time.

“You know he kind of tried to kill us.” You waved your hand in gesture to the man in the car.

“Sorry, I’ll put it on the list too.” He glanced back down at Sharon, who had migrated closer to him. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

She nodded, “I know.” Then the most awkward kiss in all of kissing history took place. Your brows shot up then furrowed quickly, a small wince overtaking your face. They pulled apart and traded more words. Sharon began walking back to the passenger side of the car.

Steve turned around and you looked back at the two men in the car. Both of them were wearing proud, smug grins. Steve threw his head back as if he was berating them.

“About damn time, Cap! She’s been pining over you for God knows how long now.” The windows were down in the Beetle so the other two heard you shouting at their friend.

“Y/N!” Sharon was a bit embarrassed.

“What? It’s the truth, Shar!” The two of you began bickering like an old married couple as you started the car again. Steve got all he needed from the trunk and shut it quickly, slapping it twice. You began driving off with Sharon giving you directions to an airport on the opposite side of the country.

***********************

That was the last time you saw Steve. Last time you saw anyone for a while. You had been dusted in the Blip. Sharon had followed you to your apartment in Madripoor. The two of you were able to figure the city out pretty quickly. Learning the ins and outs of the island, where to go, who to sell to. One afternoon, you and Sharon had been surveying a Van Gogh piece for your gallery when you flew away. In the middle of a fucking deal, what perfect timing.

Five years later, you were reunited with an even more successful Sharon. “I kept your room the way you left it.” She said as she led you through your shared home. “I figured that you’d be back and you’d be pissed off if I fucked with anything.”

You smiled at the woman gratefully and hugged her. Neither of you let go for a while. When you did, she started filling you in on everything. She had continued to split all her profits and had been depositing the money into your account. “Even if you didn’t come back, I could’ve used it if I needed to bug out. Win-win.” She explained with a smile.

The two of you had about six months of getting back into the groove of things. It was quickly cut off by a ping of your phones one day. A look of confusion and anger crossed her face, “Are you fucking kidding me?” She locked eyes with you and told you to get your gear.

“Where are we going?” She threw her phone at you and you looked at the screen. As soon as you read the notification at the top of it you understood. Repeating your question from before, you tied the knots on your Converse. You followed Sharon to the Low Town side of the island.

“Now what the fuck are they doing here, do you think?” The two of you camped outside of the Brass Monkey nightclub, ready for whatever came your way. Deciding that you were too visible to everyone else, you moved to the building across from the club. Something is bound to go wrong and the first place they're going to get ran to is this dead end alley.

Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, Sam, Barnes, and Zemo got cornered in the alleyway. Sharon had decided to stay on the ground floor next to the door. You shot two of the assassins following the group of three and Sharon took out the final one.

You made your way back down to Sharon, who was still holding her gun up. “You cost me everything.” She focused her gun on Zemo.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam remarked calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.” Your brows shot up at that, must of been new information that she got while you were upstairs.

“Why are you here, Sharon?” Sam questioned.

“She was one of the ones who stole Steve’s shield, remember?” You stepped forward, raising your gun to gesture to the men in front of you. “And the wings, so your ass,” you waved at Sam, “could save his ass,” at Barnes, “from his ass.” You lowered your gun and stepped in front of Zemo, staring the man down. Your fist balled and you launched it at Zemo, landing a solid hit to his cheekbone.

Barnes grabbed your hand, twisting your body to slot against his with your arm bent behind your back. He leaned close to your ear, breath making shivers trickle down your spine. “I only let you do that because I’ve wanted to for a while now, so don’t get any more ideas.” Your breath hitched because of the proximity of the man behind you.

“Alright, give me my Y/N back.” Sharon said, lowering her gun to holster it. Bucky held onto you for a few more seconds than necessary and then pushed you towards Sharon as he released you. You scoffed, then shoved your gun into the waistband of your jeans. Sam and Sharon had already started their own conversation by the time you calmed down enough to face Barnes.

Sharon bobbed her head to you, an unspoken language between the two of you. After bringing them into your home, Sam began admiring the artwork in the first floor gallery. “Looks like breaking the law is treating you two well.”

“Before even graduating into the Agency, I had a place over here. Never had any intention on using it, but here we are.” You started, “Then, after having to flee Berlin, for you,” You shot a look at Bucky, “we figured if we had to hustle, might as well enjoy the good life. Do you know how much we can get for a real Monet?”

“Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monet’s.” Sharon shot him a look, about to defend us when Zemo cut in.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. All the classics.” Sam made a face of disbelief.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky gestured to the gallery. Sam pulled his phone out of his suit pocket.

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” He was typing furiously as he spoke. Bucky passed him, soundlessly following you and Sharon to the upstairs apartment.

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Once the five of you got upstairs, Sharon began walking them into her office, telling them that they needed to change because we were hosting clients. It didn’t take long for the men to switch outfits. It was refreshing to see Barnes in something other than combat gear or a torn Henley. Sharon followed you in the office, making a remark at Sam while he apologised.

“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.” She said as you plopped yourself on one of the plush chairs across from the couch, holding a clear glass full of whiskey.

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo added quietly, since when is Zemo informed? Sharon glazed over his comment, opting for asking about the new Cap while filling a glass for herself.

“Don’t get me started.” Barnes spoke for the first time since being downstairs. You narrowed your eyes at the man.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit.” You swung your glass to Zemo, “Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” His gaze darted over to you, nose wrinkling at your comment.

“Do you know who I am?” He tried to be intimidating but it was just funny to you. You were taking a drink to moisten your throat to fire back a witty comeback, when Sharon spoke for you.

“Oh trust me, she knows. She did a report on you freshman year of high school.” You started choking on your drink as Sharon smirked from the couch next to Barnes. His brows raised and a smug smile graced his face.

“She did now?” Clearly he was a different man from the last time you saw him. Meeting his eyes for the fourth time ever, you were surprised with what you saw. There was almost a hunger lingering behind his eyes.

“Most definitely. I don’t even know how many times she went to the Smithsonian to see the exhibit about you.” You glared at Sharon, who continued to talk, unbothered by you. She raised her own glass to her lips, speaking into her cup, muffling her words. “Honestly, think she developed a little crush.” Barnes’ eyes never left your face, his mind racing.

“Wait, so the entire time you were helping me and Steve, you had a crush on Tin Man?” Sam interjected, wanting to be included in the conversation. You rolled your eyes and gave a subtle nod to Sam. The action wasn’t missed by Bucky.

“Which is why I think it must’ve been really hard for you to ask him of all people for help. They comin’ down real hard on you out there?” You asked Barnes with a smirk and a head tilt towards Zemo. “I know he fucked you up real good, triggering the Soldier, Barnes.”

Sam laughed beside him. “Dude, that’s basically what you told Walker.” Barnes threw a glare at Sam, who had clapped a hand on his metal shoulder. The conversation dissipated after your comment, guess you killed the vibe.

Sam turned to a relaxed Sharon, “We need your help.” Her body tensed, neither one of you was ready to throw yourself back into enemy territory. “I can get your name cleared.” He dangled a huge bargaining chip in front of her face. You knew Sharon was eager to get back to the States. She misses her dad. It was unfair of Sam to use that as a way to gain her favor.

“Haggling with someone’s life like that isn’t okay, Sam.” You said quietly, focusing your gaze on the glass in your hand.

“It’s not like that, Y/N.”

“Yes, it is, Sam.” You said firmly. “You can’t just say something like that. I know you’re an Avenger. That’s great shit, but you need to realize that if you can’t deliver on your word, we go to jail or worse. You know that.”

“I don’t trust charity, Sam.” Sharon said from beside Barnes.

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your names cleared.” Your nostrils flared and you shook your head. Sharon agreed, blinded by the possibility of seeing her family again. You don’t doubt that she thought through all the outcomes, it just wasn’t the route you would’ve taken.

“We sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, and enjoy the party.” She got up, exiting the office.

“Try to stay outta trouble, boys.” You said placing your glass on Sharon’s desk as you left. “We’ll see what we can find.”

*********************************

You were standing next to Sharon when the three men joined the party. Leaning over to Sharon, you told her you were going to get a drink from the bar. You pushed your way through the crowd, planting yourself on a stool in front of the countertop. Nodding your head at the bartender, they passed you a bottle of club soda.

“Not drinking tonight?” A raspy voice questioned over your shoulder. You turned to face the owner as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Already had my fill. And technically, I’m supposed to be working, Barnes.” Your eyes met with his again. You couldn’t tell if it was the light in the room or if it was just him, but they were a deeper shade of blue than before. He leaned his weight on his elbow that was resting on the bar top next to you. He was so close you could feel his body heat rolling off him in waves.

His eyes roamed your face, stopping on your lips as he spoke. “You know you can call me Bucky, right?” You made a face, bringing your bottle to your mouth. He watched intently as your lips wrapped around the opening.

“We’ve never had a single conversation before today. And the first time you actually met me, you twisted my arm behind my back because I punched the dickwad standing next to you.” You took another sip and his eyes drifted down to your throat. He watched as it bobbed when you swallowed.

“So, yeah. I’m going to call you Barnes.” You leaned closer, “I’ve never been given permission to call you anything else.” You could tell you struck something. Something that he didn’t even possibly know about. His face heated and he had to clear his throat before speaking.

“Um, okay. Well you can call me Bucky or if you want, James.” Your brow quirked and you pulled back to take him in fully.

“How many people have you let call you that since you got your free will back?” Your tone was serious, but your face held a smile.

“None, doll.” His eyes ran over your face again. “I just want to hear how it’ll sound coming from your mouth.” One of his metal fingers came up to rest on your bottom lip as your smile grew.

“James.” You whispered, just for him. What he was giving you was a privilege, one you were going to revel in. One corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

“Again.” He growled as his finger remained on your lip.

“James.”

“Again.”

“James.” The party around the two of you faded away. In your reality, it was just you and the man in front of you. A peaceful place, where nothing could change what was happening right at that moment.

Of course, reality is a bitch. And you never got what you wanted. Your jaw clenched as soon as your phone pinged. James dropped his hand from your face as he read the text with you.

Found Nagel. Meet us outside and if you find Bucky, tell him too.

You scrunched your nose and bit your lip. James’ hand was quick to pull your lip from your front teeth, before resting there for a second as he studied your face. He stepped back quickly, nodding his head for you to follow him.

**************************************

You don’t know how the hell Sharon managed to find him, but she did. You were in a shipping yard for storage cars. “Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam said as the five of you weaved your way through the containers.

“With a bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” She glanced down at her phone in her hand. Nodding toward a red container, “Alright, he’s in there. Container 4621.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out five earpieces.

“We’ll keep watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.” You said as you watched everyone situate their pieces. Sharon turned around and began walking down an aisle not far from the container Nagel was in. You stopped James before he could go anywhere.

“Hey, be careful.” His eyes met yours and they were back to the normal steel blue. “Don’t forget who you are, James.” Something flashed behind his eyes, but his face showed no change.

“You too, Y/N. Don’t make me come out here and save your ass.” His eyes flicked down quickly and a smile spread quickly. “I mean, not that I would mind.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, turning and walking down the aisle Sharon did.

“So,” She was leaned against a rusted container with a smug smile. “You and Bucky, huh?” You groaned and stood next to her.

“I don’t know, Shar. Neither one of us should be in a relationship. Especially since we’re both Enemies of the State, well one of us is, the other one was.” You turned your head to look at her. “What do you think about all of this?” She opened her mouth to speak when you both heard something ricochet off a metal wall.

She raised a finger to her mouth and crouched down before pressing that same finger to her earpiece. “Guys, we have company.” She took off down one end of the aisle and you down the opposite, ready to attack from both sides. There were three men walking towards Nagel’s container, you shot a look down to Sharon and she nodded.

She came from the back with a baton, whacking the last guy once in the knees and once in the head, disarming him. When the front man turned to help his comrade, you did the same move to him with your own baton. You both continued trading blows with the men. You had effectively taken out the first man, using his thigh to latch yourself to the third man’s shoulders. Situating yourself to use your body weight to flip him over, definitely knocking him out.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go now, boys!” You yelled to your earpiece as you watched Sharon fight off another opponent.

It wasn’t until the gunfire started that Sharon said something else into the piece. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” You both split off, out of each other’s view, battling your own demons. You were currently dealing with two of those said demons, when a third approached from behind. Locking you in a chokehold as the other two continued punching your ribs.

One of the hunters was suddenly ripped away from you. Punches were landing and groans were echoing through the alleyways. You threw all your body weight forward, throwing your assailant over your shoulder. Two gunshots rang out and then a third one, which landed a bullet hole between your aggressors eyes. Your head whipped around to face James, whose arm dropped back to his side.

He walked towards you, putting a hand on your back leading you to where Sharon and Sam were standing. Zemo pulled up in a blue convertible car, “Supercharged.” was all he said. Sam pointed his finger at the man in the driver’s seat.

“You’re going back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” James sighed heavily, his shoulder sinking with the action.

“He’s right. We need him. And there’s two of us, and at least twenty of them.” James got in the front seat, leaving the door open for Sam.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again--”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo raised his hands in surrender. Sam turned to Sharon.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” You leaned over the open door to talk to James. He looked at you with a sad face.

“Why don’t you come back to the States with us?” He tilted his head. “We could clearly use your help, doll.” You smiled at that and licked your lips before responding.

“You know we can’t. Not yet anyway.” He placed his finger back on your bottom lip, maintaining eye contact. “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, James. That I can promise you.” He smiled and dropped his hand back to his lap.

Sam climbed into the seat behind James. “You’re not going to move your seat up, are you?” James smirked before replying.

“No.” You watched as they drove off, desperately wanting to see James again already.

You turned back to Sharon and the two of you began walking back towards High Town. “I think you should go for it.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fan fic #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x you #james buchanan barnes x y/n #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #Sebastian Stan

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ravennm84 · 4 years

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Marinette’s Family Court Circus

I got this idea from a post @unmaskedagain and decided to put my own little spin to it. It’s a bit sad and does have my usual Lila-Salt spin, but I really loved writing this. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

The day of her greatest triumph was also her greatest tragedy. Hawkmoth had finally been defeated, the butterfly and peacock miraculous back in the miracle box where they belonged, and Paris was finally safe.

However, when Gabriel Agreste was revealed to be the magical terrorist and his assistant, Nathalie, his accomplice, Adrien had been devastated. When the Paris police sought to find out the extent of Adrien's involvement, he had no choice but to reveal in a private interrogation room with only the mayor, Officer Roger, the chief of police, and Ladybug herself, his identity as Chat Noir. After which, Adrien said a tearful goodbye to Plagg and surrendered the ring of destruction to Ladybug. A press conference was held within an hour, absolving Adrien of any crimes in relation to his father, and his bodyguard would also be absolved four days later.

That night, after Ladybug had returned home and tearfully placed the ring, broch, and pin back in the miracle box; her parents and Grandma Gina had told her that they were going out to dinner to celebrate; Gina had even rented a car so they wouldn’t need to walk or take the subway. How Marinette wished that they had just gotten on the subway.

She woke up the following afternoon in the hospital. Apparently, her family weren’t the only people celebrating Hawkmoth’s defeat, and a car load of university students had celebrated too hard and T-boned their car while running a light. The doctors told her that her grandmother and father had died on impact and her mother passed away during surgery. Marinette had been extremely lucky to survive without any life threatening injuries; a broken leg, arm, collar bone, two cracked ribs, and a few lacerations across her body.

She was hardly paying attention to what the doctors were saying. Too shocked by the whole situation. There was no Miraculous Cure that could fix this. In the span of a single day, she had defeated her enemy, saved Paris, lost her partner, lost her grandmother, and her parents. She was alone.

When her family’s lawyer, M. Contere came to talk about custody, it was revealed that her grandmother was supposed to take custody in the event of her parents' deaths. Her grandfather would have been the next logical choice, but he had recently suffered a stroke and had been placed in a nursing home. This left the lawyer scrambling to find someone to take the girl or risk having her surrendered to the city of Paris.

Going through the Dupain-Chengs’ contact list, M. Contere made phone calls to numbers listed as family friends or emergency contacts. There were three that particularly stood out to him, all listed under the title of ‘uncle’.

The first was to an ‘Uncle J’; a woman answered the phone, introducing herself as Penny. When Contere told her it had to do with the Dupain-Chengs, the phone was handed to a man with a distinctly British accent. He sounded devastated to hear that Tom, Sabine, and Gina had all passed away before going into a panic and asking if Marinette was alright, showing absolute relief that she had survived the crash. When Contere mentioned the custody hearing, the man practically demanded to know the date, time, and place before promising that he would be there.

The second contact that stood out was labeled as ‘Uncle Tony’. That call was answered by an assistant named Jarvis before transferring the call to Tony. Again, Contere could hear the surprise and hurt at hearing that his friends had passed away before asking if Marinette had been in the car. When told that she had survived, there was relief and he mentioned that Peter would have probably cried for a week if he’d lost his childhood friend. Tony then offered to take custody of Marinette and Contere quickly told him the details.

Although M. Contere was relieved that at least two family friends/possible relatives seemed more than willing to take Marinette, he knew how fickle and difficult the courts could be and wanted as many options as possible for the girl, which led to the third contact labeled ‘Uncle Bruce’.

The phone was answered by an older sounding gentleman named Alfred before transferring the call. Contere could hear multiple voices in the background, most sounding like young men, and when he told Bruce about the passing of Tom, Sabine, and Gina; it went very quiet for a moment before all the voices began speaking at once demanding to know what happened, who was responsible, and if Marinette was okay. M.Contere answered the questions that he could and told them that Marinette was in need of a legal guardian. Bruce said Gina had been a great friend and mentor to him when he was younger and that he would be honored to care for her granddaughter. So he told him the details of the court hearing with the promise that he would make sure that Marinette was taken care of until then.

After hanging up, M. Contere had a strange feeling that he couldn’t shake. A feeling that told him that those three ‘Uncles’ were either going to make his job of getting Marinette into a stable home a lot easier… or it would be a total nightmare.

~oOo~

The day of the hearing was a Monday and Marinette's case was the first on the docket, which was a relief. If things went smoothly, she could be placed with one of her respective uncles by the end of the week and be taken care of. When the two of them stepped into the room, with Marinette rolling beside him in her wheelchair, M. Contere was surprised to see multiple familiar faces in the courtroom that he had not expected. Jagged Stone, Bruce Wayne, and Tony Stark were glaring, arguing, and puffing out their chests at each other; ignoring everyone else in the room. He also noticed how each man seemed to have an entire team of lawyers backing them up.

The tension and glaring match only broke when the two women; Pepper Potts and Penny Rolling, and the four Wayne boys; Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damien, noticed Marinette’s arrival.

“Marinette, sweetie, how are you feeling?” Penny asked as she walked away from Jagged to kneel beside Marinette’s wheelchair.

“Been better, but I’m glad to see some familiar faces,” she said with a weak smile.

Pepper leaned over a bit to give the girl a gentle hug while minding her injuries. “We’re here for you, Mari. No matter what.”

Then the four boys were almost surrounding her, offering to hunt down the people that took away their family and pile so many lawsuits on them that they’ll die of papercuts. This made her chuckle and grimace a bit from the pain, telling the boys that was sweet but unnecessary.

Jagged, Bruce, and Tony immediately put their argument on hold as they hurried over to check on the girl as well. Contere found it to be a good sign that Marinette seemed familiar with the three men, that they all asked how she was and if she wanted anything, as well as promising that they would take care of her. That last one, the three said at the same time and got them glaring at each other again. This caused Contere to sweat and Marinette to give her head a resigned shake.

What followed would probably go down as the most intense, well argued, and most headache-inducing case in the history of the Paris Family Court System with all three men vying for custody of the teenage girl.

Being able to provide financial stability wasn’t a concern as Jagged Stone was currently the most successful rockstar in Europe, Asia, Australia, and the Americas; while Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne were two of the wealthiest businessmen in the entire world. All three even offered to completely cover Marinette’s tuition to any school she wanted, so long as she was accepted.

Her safety turned out to be a large factor with all three men, and they were willing to hire their own private security to make sure that she stayed safe at all times. However, the three men also argued how the others lived in unsafe environments.

Jagged mostly lived in tour buses and out of hotels, which was a factor; but he was willing to call off his tours during the school year and only go on tour during school breaks so Marinette would never be without her guardian. Penny was also willing to help Jagged at every turn, stating that she loved Marinette like a niece and would make sure that she had a strong female role model in her life as well.

Tony’s reputation as a playboy and his identity as Iron Man brought up the possibility of attracting a dangerous element. He argued that his homes were equipped with the most advanced security systems on the planet. As well as being friends with an actual “God-Alien”, who had met Marinette and liked her a great deal. Tony was also willing to make Marinette her own personal Iron Suit that would be programmed to protect and fly her to a safe location at the first sign of danger. Pepper also offered to share custody as she already took care of Tony’s daily life as his assistant, taking care of Marinette would be easy and she was looking forward to having her around.

Bruce’s residence in Gotham, the most crime ridden city in North America, was a big factor. Bruce made a point that he already had experience as a guardian of his three adopted sons and his biological son, and they were kept safe. That he also had a top of the line security system at his home, which was located outside of city limits. Dick, Jason, and Tim also commented that they thought of Marinette like a little sister and that Wayne Enterprises had locations all over the world. If the judge decided that Gotham was too dangerous, one of them would gladly take up residency in a city that the judge approved and would stay there to watch over Marinette while still working and providing for her.

After two hours of listening to the back and forth of the three men and their lawyers, the judge decided that he’d heard enough for the day and set the next meeting for the following Thursday after lunch. He also recommended that the men bring proof that they have the mental capability of caring for a teenage girl, lists of schools near their homes to show that she will continue her education, and character witnesses, if available.

The three men wanted to take Marinette out to get something to eat after the court was adjourned, but M. Contere was forced to tell them that it would not be appropriate during the legal proceedings. He also recommended that they follow the judge’s instructions and make sure that they had everything needed, otherwise they would likely not qualify. Hearing that got all three men, their assistants, family, and lawyers moving at top speeds to get everything they needed for court in a few days.

Once they were out of sight, the lawyer couldn’t help but let out a stress induced sigh as he raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. This custody battle had the potential to turn into a total circus, and although it could do great things for his career in the long run, he was more worried about how this would affect Marinette.

Speaking of, he was brought from his thoughts when he felt her small hand gently pat the hand that was holding his briefcase. When he looked down at her, she gave him a kind, though slightly amused smile. “You had no idea about the can of worms you were opening when you made those phone calls, did you?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “How was I supposed to know that Uncle J, Uncle Tony, and Uncle Bruce would turn out to be three of the most influential men in the world? How does your family even know all of them?”

“Uncle Bruce was raised by the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, after his parents died. Grandma Gina and Alfred were best friends when they were younger. After the Waynes died, Gina would go check on them in Gotham, she liked to brag that she helped get Bruce back out of his shell. Uncle Tony knew my parents back in university, he was a lot younger and smarter than the other students and you can guess that didn’t go over well with some of them. My parents looked out for him and they became friends, and even after he got busy when he took over the company, he always made time to be there for the big moments in our lives; my parents’ wedding, their baby shower, and when I was born. I’ve actually spent a few summers in Gotham and New York visiting them.”

“And Jagged Stone?”

“He’s the most recent of my honorary uncles. I’m his personal designer, but he got unofficially adopted into my family after the tv show that took place in my parents’ bakery. Uncle Jagged made a bread guitar and sang rock songs with my dad. Once the show was over, Mom invited him and Penny to stay for dinner. During the course of the night, Dad claimed him as a new little brother. Jagged was so happy that he started calling my parents big brother and big sister, and started calling me his niece. Since then, he’s come over at least once a month to just relax and be a family with us.”

M. Contere couldn’t help but smile at that. From the sound of it and what he had seen, all three men truly cared about this girl and were willing to bend over backwards for her. That was a good thing, but he still worried that a custody battle between these three men could go for a long time and possibly cause mental distress for Marinette. Although the final decision was ultimately up to the judge, he was allowed to make recommendations if they were in the best interests of the child.

With that in mind, he knelt down beside Marinette. “You know the three of them and what they’re living situations are like better than I do. And even though you’re not 15 years old yet, I could petition the judge to factor your opinion. Which of them would you like to have guardian status?”

When Marinette gave him a knowing smile, he just knew that things might get more complicated.

~oOo~

It got a lot more complicated.

The media had caught wind of the custody battle, causing a giant crowd of paparazzi to stake out the courthouse to catch a glimpse of the rockstar, billionaire, and the self proclaimed “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” who was also a superhero. To their credit, the three only said that they were devastated by the loss of the Dupain-Chengs and wanted to do what was best for Marinette and left all the other questions at the door.

In the courtroom; all three men, as well as their assistants and Bruce’s boys, had done mental evaluations that their lawyers submitted to the judge. They also provided lists of different schools that Marinette was free to choose from; including public schools, private, and even schools that specialized in fashion. But the absolute kicker was the character witnesses.

Jagged Stone had brought other music stars, movie stars, and production mega stars that made Contere wonder for a moment if he’d accidentally walked into an award ceremony. Tony Stark had brought the Avengers, The Avengers, as his character witnesses. Contere wasn’t too proud to admit that he was a bit starstruck when Thor himself came over to great Marinette and complimented her on her ‘battle scars’, saying that they were a testament to her strength. If that wasn’t enough, Bruce brought multiple members of the Billionaire’s Club as character witnesses, many of whom had been suspected of being members of the Justice League.

The judge looked just as surprised, though somewhat irritated, by the people crowding his courtroom. He quietly looked over the mental health evaluations that had been provided, as well as the lists of schools; finding that everything was in order and that any of them would have been wonderful guardians to the girl. He was tempted to call another recess and pick this back up the following week until Marinette’s lawyer raised his hand.

“If it would please the court,” the judge motioned for him to continue, “although Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is not yet of legal age to make a final decision on the matter of custody, I felt that she was old enough to state her opinion. We have discussed it over the past few days and I believe we came up with a proposal that will satisfy all parties involved while still being in the best interest of the child.” M. Contere presented the four copies of the proposal to the bailiff, who handed one to the judge, and the three lead lawyers.

The judge read the summary at the top before looking at the lawyer in surprise. “You’re proposing joint custody?”

“Yes, your honor. My client and I feel that due to the influence that these men hold, as you can see by the character witnesses that have come here to speak on their behalf, that this custody hearing could be drawn out for a long time, which could have mental repercussions on Marinette.” Contere didn’t miss the ‘you ain’t kidding’ roll of his eyes, or the looks of shame that the three men shared at the thought of hurting Marinette.

“Keeping that in mind, my client came up with an outline for a possible custody agreement. M. Stark would retain custody during school as he has listed one of the top fashion schools in America, which would further Marinette’s future career. The weekends would be spent with M. Wayne, as Wayne Enterprises has connections to the fashion industry and would be able to give her training to help her successfully run her own business. M. Stone would have custody during summer breaks, so Marinette may continue gaining experience as his personal designer, a position she has held for close to a year and has already earned her recognition in the industry.”

The judge grew quiet again as he contemplated the proposal and read over the details. He didn’t want to deal with these three powerful, and in a lot of ways eccentric, men for the next few months while attempting to figure out the best placement for the child. Nor did he want to deal with the media frenzy that this case had already brought on. If anything, this was likely the best option, if he could get the men to agree to the terms.

“Do you have any objections to this proposal?”

There was a moment of silence as the lawyers continued to look over the proposal and spoke to their clients. Jagged’s lawyer was the first to respond. “No, your honor. M. Stone believes that this would be best for Marinette, but we would like to add a clause that M. Stone be permitted to call and visit Mlle. Dupain-Cheng so long as it does not interfere with her school work.”

“My client would also like that clause added to the proposal, your honor,” said the Wayne lawyer. “As well as the clause that Messieurs Stone and Stark work together with M. Wayne in securing Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s safety. As previously stated, all three men could be considered high-priority targets and normally require bodyguards. M. Wayne has proposed that any potential bodyguard be vetted and approved by all parties involved before being hired.”

The judge looked to Stark’s lawyer. “And do you have any stipulations you would want to see added to the proposal?”

“Only that there be an open line of communication between Messieurs Stone, Wayne, and Stark at all times in reference to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s well being and any possible travel. As all three men are known to travel the world for business; there will be occasions for the child to travel as well. When this occurs, the other guardians should receive notice of the country, city, and address that she resides; so, in case of an emergency, they will be able to be present to assist and protect her.”

“My client has no objections to these clauses,” said Jagged’s lawyer.

“And you, M. Wayne?”

The Wayne lawyer nodded. “The clauses are more than reasonable and are in the best interest of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Although I only speak for my client, I do not believe that I would be out of line to say that is the main focus of Messieurs Stone and Stark as well.”

The lawyers hid their relief when the judge nodded in agreement. “As the proposal was presented by the child and the three of you are in agreement, I’m scheduling a meeting in my chambers for next Tuesday to go over the finer details of the custodial agreement. I will allow your clients and one lawyer each to attend; this includes you and your client, M. Contere.”

“Yes, your honor.”

“And as for you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Marinette’s head snapped up to meet the judge’s gaze. “It seems that you have gained three extremely powerful, influential, and in many ways crazy guardians. I don’t know if I should congratulate you or give you my sympathies. What I will do is wish you the best of luck and hope that you are prepared for the future. Court is adjourned.”

There was a hum of surprise and joy that spread through the courtroom as Jagged, Bruce, and Tony stepped up to each other and shook hands before approaching Marinette and M. Contere.

“Of course, my niece would come up with a way to keep everyone happy, she’s so rock n’ roll that way.” Jagged beamed with pride as Tony and Bruce nodded in agreement.

“Would it be alright if all of us went to dinner to celebrate,” Bruce asked Contere, indicating the ‘all’ to be himself and his boys, Jagged and Penny, and Tony and Pepper; along with Marinette and Contere.

“So long as there’s no discussion of custody and everyone stays civil, I don’t see any harm in it.”

Everyone smiled in agreement while Pepper mentioned that she’d just finished making reservations for all eleven of them at a nice restaurant that had the best view of the Eiffel Tower.

As the others began filing out of the courtroom, Marinette patted his hand and gave him a sympathetic look. “You just opened your second can.”

M. Contere wasn’t sure about what she’d meant until after the meal was over and the waitress brought the check, and then watched as the three billionaires fought over it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he only hoped that this would all be over on Tuesday and he could go back to his normal, boring cases.

#ml fic #ml prompt #marinette deserves better #maribat #ml au #bruce wayne #tony stark #jagged stone #marinette dupain cheng

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reidisreading · 3 years

Text

Sleep Deprivation - Spencer Reid x Reader

Writing Prompt: Spencer Reid is so sleep deprived he doesn’t notice his actions and accidentally crosses a line with reader. Reader ends up being abducted by unsub and Spencer has to make a choice towards his feelings to reader.

POV: Third Person POV but following certain characters.

Spencer Reid with they/them Reader

Type: angst with fluff at the end

warnings / trigger warnings: abduction, mentions of killing, subtle mentions of some sort of mental illness, reader gets hurt physically (punching, etc.), mild cursing.

*author note* Hi, this is my first story and I just wanted to get it out of my google drive page. I didn’t proofread this at all so there’s probably plenty of mistakes (if there is just tell me). I promise future stories will be a lot better than this.

*word count: 4,100*

To the outside world, Spencer Reid was the perfect person in control of all aspects of his life.

The problem with Spencer Reid was that he was too smart and active for his own safety. He struggled with sleep deprivation among other things that made it hard for him to keep track of himself. At this exact moment he was struggling with holding six hours of sleep in the last three days. He knows the dangers, he sees statistics, but when he closes his eyes all he can do is see Y/N in danger like in their last case and he can’t go through that. Not again, not when he was the one that found them all bloodied and almost unconscious. This was Spencer’s third cup of coffee in just that morning and the clock hadn’t turned to seven thirty, yet. He finished the last sip and rushed out the door to head to the subway, his hatred for driving now a good thing with his exhaustion getting in the way. A buzzing came from his satchel as he got on his seat, the subway less full than usual. SSA Hotchner Calling

“Good morning.” Reid’s husky voice shone through the speaker.

“Good morning, Reid, we have a new case in California, how far away are you?” Hotch said anxiously.

“Twenty five minutes away, including the walk.” Reid says confidently.

“Okay, head straight to the bullpen on your way in. We have no time to waste.” Hotch says before hanging up the phone. Reid finished reading the book he started that same morning and moved on to the second book he had stashed in his bag on his way out.

“Platform-.” He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings as he got off the cart and walked towards his job. The smell of the station made his nose hurt as he remembered previous cases of ill intent people doing foul things to their surroundings.

Get it together, Reid. You can’t walk in there distracted, they’ll know something is wrong. You can’t have Penelope and JJ worried all over you. You especially can’t have Y/N worried for you, you need to keep your head leveled around them.

It was probably easy to guess that their last case had taken the hardest toll on Spencer. His feelings for Y/N making it difficult to concentrate when the unsub had taken them as a means to keep the FBI scared. Spencer had spent most of his time away in a small office hunched over papers and profiles trying to get them back.

“Good morning, Doctor Reid.” The receptionist greeted the young doctor.

“Good morning!” Spencer said in a matched tone. He walked to the elevator, hitting the familiar key without looking at it at all.

Okay, you need to wake up and be alert. No dozing off like you’ve been doing today. You have a job to do, people are counting on you. Spencer repeated the same words to himself like a mantra until he saw the clear doors to the BAU main office.

Penelope Garcia POV

We have a tablet for Hotch, Rossi, JJ, Emily, of course, Chocolate Thunder, and using paper we have Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N. They would be so cute together, those two. I know I could find a way for Hotch to let them be together if only they would admit their feelings for each other, this is ridiculous. It’s very obvious to everyone but those two that they’re the perfect match made. Ironic how the two smartest people to enter this building are too oblivious to notice this. If I had a nickel for every time-

“How we looking, Baby Girl?” Morgan interrupted Garcia from her ramble.

“Like I’d rather be watching something where someone doesn’t die.” She answered annoyed.

“Don’t we all?” He shook his head as he took his tablet, scanning some of the images, the flash of hurt running through his facial features like a marathon.

“Okay, we’re just waiting for Reid but he should be here any second.” Hotch says stressed while sitting down. The rest of the team, sans Reid, pile into the room taking their respective seats. Everyone opens their files on their tablets while Y/N scans through their paper folder.

“Where is Pretty Boy?” Morgan asked looking directly at Y/N as if they would know anything; thankfully Y/N was too focused on the case in front of them to pay any attention.

“Stop it.” Garcia whispered to him. Morgan looked at her and laughed while shaking his head.

It’s safe to say that the entire team knew that those two were crushing on each other, they had that energy about them.

Garcia got up from her seat, ready to direct the team along JJ on their latest case when the Boy Genius walked into the room in a hurry, his satchel already in his hands ready to be removed from his body.

“I’m sorry, there was a minor mishap and- not important, sorry.” He said while moving towards his seat which was conveniently next to Y/N’s. He stopped next to them, giving them a light kiss on the head before moving to his seat, the small action causing everyone in the room to fall into a heavy silence. He didn’t seem to notice this small movement as he continued on with his regular routine of taking everything off to focus on the file in front of him. “What’s going on in California?” He asked looking up at Garcia, only to notice her stunned expression. “What?” He asked looking at the rest of the team, noticing their silence and awkward glances at each other. The only one not looking at anyone in particular was Y/N.

“Nothing.” Garcia said while turning around to look at the slide show.

“Family in California was brutally murdered in their home. Father was moved away from them, from the shows of it, it seems to have been postmortem.” Garcia says while looking at JJ frantically.

“Two children were left in the closet- I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Reid, what was that?” Hotch asked while he asked JJ to pause the slideshow and turned to look at one of the two younger members of the team.

“Hotch, no.” Garcia whispered. He’s going to ruin everything! No! We FINALLY have something that officially indicates one of them feels something.

“I-I don’t understand?” Reid says confused.

“Pretty Boy coming out of his shell.” Morgan chuckles.

“What?” Reid asks, still confused.

“You just kissed Y/N.” Emily says sliding closer to him.

“I did what?” Reid asked with a raised tone.

“Reid, what’s going on?” Rossi asks.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Reid said genuinely concerned.

“You look tired.” Emily said, “well, I mean, more than usual.” She says worried.

“I mean, I haven’t really slept but it’s not that bad.”

“How much is ‘not that bad’?” Hotch asks.

“Six.” Reid whispered.

“Six hours daily?” Hotch presses.

“The last three days.” Reid finishes.

“Reid, no.” Emily says sadly.

“Can we get back to the case?” Reid asks, the entire room shifting energy. Y/N staying quiet as possible. It didn’t slip anyone’s notice that Y/N didn’t try to move from Reid, it was almost like they were shifting closer to him.

“Okay, uhm, two children were left in the closet, their hands tied behind their back and their mouths covered with electrical tape. It seems like most of the extra things the unsub did were postmortem because the children were tied and silenced after this unsub killed them.” Garcia said.

“The mom seems to have had the most anger targeted. She had leisure wounds around her neck and wrists, but that’s not what killed her. She was drowned in the bathtub, and it seems he may have stabbed her multiple times postmortem, too.” Y/N says as they go through their own file.

“Maybe they had a bad relationship with a maternal figure and they’re looking for ways to get back at her.” Rossi says.

“Any reason why the unsub may have targeted this family?” Hotch asks.

“None that I’ve found yet, sir.” Garcia answers.

“Okay, wheels up in thirty. Reid, I need to talk to you privately.” Hotch says as he dismisses the team.

Arron Hotchner I will have a word with you.

Spencer Reid POV

“I need you to stay at the base for this one.” Hotch says automatically.

“What? No, I can’t.” Reid replies.

“Yes. What happened there is only a glimpse of what can happen in the future, Reid. I cannot take the risk with the rest of the team. You stay here, work the case, and rest up. Sleep deprivation can cause memory loss and you’re already seeing the side effect. I can’t put you or others in danger.”

“Hotch, please.” Reid whispers.

“Y/N will be okay, I promise Reid.” Hotch said sternly.

“That’s not-.” Reid cut himself short.

“Your job now is to stay here and look at everything we can’t. Come up with theories. I have to go.” Hotch starts to walk away, “and I want you to get home at a reasonable time to sleep. I need you in future cases.” He finishes, walking towards the last of his paperwork and walks out of the room. Reid looks around the room and spots Penelope at the door, trying (and failing) to look inconspicuous.

“Let’s go Pen.” Reid calls out to her and picks up his own file.

“Reid, I don’t think Y/N-.”

“Pen, please.” Reid stops mid track, “I’m not allowed to go and I’m already exhausted as it is. Please, let’s just focus on this.” He says to her as he turns around and comes face to face with Y/N. “Hi.” He whispers.

“Hi.”

“Are you- is everything okay?” He hushes.

“Yeah, I just came to say bye to you both. We’re on our way out.” Y/N replies looking at Reid like a fragile doll, if they moved too fast, he may break.

“Be safe.” He says, almost so quiet they miss it.

“Always am.” Y/N replied with a smile, “see you, Pen.” They waved at each other before Y/N finally walked away from them.

“Oh you’re smitten to the T.” Penelope teased.

“Penelope Garcia, there’s a room we need to get to and have no time to talk nonsense.” Reid said frustrated.

“Oh, we can most definitely talk while we’re in there mister Doctor Genius.” She giggled walking away from him.

“No, Penelope.” He says in a rushed tone as he jogs behind her.

————————

“Hello my furry friends, what can I do ya for?” Penelope asked in an enthusiastic tone.

“I need you to give me any and all financial statements about this family. Down to what they spent money on leisurely.” Hotch said not bothering to comment on her strange wording.

“Anything I should be looking for?” She asked.

“Yes, anything that may have been spent on from time to time. No cycle, something that if anyone looking wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow.” Emily pipes in.

“Reid?” Y/N called out, Reid’s cheeks automatically turning a bright red, he’s ears matching.

“Yeah?” He asked in a high pitched tone before clearing his throat, calling out to them again, “how can I help?” He asked.

“I found some letters and cards and they look like different people wrote them but I need you to read in between the lines and assign who wrote which letter.” Y/N said picking up the different notes and holding them to the camera, “I’m going to have JJ scan these and send them to Pen, if she could please do the rest so I can have a detailed explanation of the potential unsub.” They finished explaining.

“Yeah, I’ll have them finished for you as soon as I can.” Reid said confidently.

“Thanks Spence.” The team said their goodbyes.

“Oh you’ve got it bad, Lover Boy.” Penelope said through giggles.

“I don’t know what that means.” Reid said uncomfortably.

“That Y/N called you ‘Spence’ and you just about melted.” She teased.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh come on! When are you going to just get it over with and ask them out?” Penelope asked in a serious tone.

“Never, they don’t like me and I probably made them uncomfortable today with something I don’t even remember doing.” He fiddled with his pencil.

“Have you asked them?”

“No.”

“Then, you don’t know.” Penelope finished turning back to her computers seeing the files JJ sent, “Come on Boy Genius, your future significant other has work for you.” She said excitedly.

—————————

“Reid, another family was murdered twenty minutes ago, do you have anything that could lead us?” Hotch stressed.

“Yes, it seems all these families have in common is their religious beliefs and where they do grocery shopping.” He said going through his own paperwork.

“Those are two completely different things.” Emily said.

“No, because all three families come from the same neighborhood, down to the same economic standard. That means they all went to the same place of prayer and they all shop from the same places. It goes down to us having already interviewed the unsub.” Y/N says, paper shuffling is heard by Garcia and Reid as Y/N moves around the room with the rest of the team.

“They’re right. We concluded that the unsub is a white male in their mid twenties who comes from a household deprived of a mother figure or a divorce household. From the way the murders are being done, it shows they have a previous criminal record with small crimes, maybe petty theft or something big like sexual assault.” Reid goes on.

“In that case, we have only interviewed twenty people. Garcia, can you narrow down the list?” Hotch asked.

“You must be new here.” She says with an eye roll.

“Keep us updated.” Emily smiles.

“Stay safe.” Reid says, everyone knowing he’s truly directing it to one person, “all of you, stay safe.” He covers up before hanging up.

Jennifer Jareau’s POV

“Hey, Y/N?” JJ had wanted to speak with Y/N since they got out of the bullpen but for one reason or the other never got the chance.

“Hey, JJ.” Y/N smiled at the blonde.

“I know what Spencer did today was out of norm. Are you okay?” She asked. JJ knew neither of the Doctors were big on being touched unless they initiated it.

“I’m okay.” The young Doctor assured her.

“Can I ask you something?” JJ started, “I’m probably way out of line and you don’t have to answer but…” She started off testing the water, she kept an eye on Y/N making sure they weren’t uncomfortable at any moment, “do you like Spencer?” JJ finished.

The words coming out of their mouth wasn’t what gave them away, it was the way their cheeks and neck flared up in red pigmentation as their hands dropped the small cup of coffee they were holding, which had thankfully been empty.

“What? No, that’s- JJ, I do not like anyone.” Y/N stammered and failed to control their movements.

“Oh, I’m so glad to have asked you instead of Penelope.” JJ started laughing.

“I do not like… JJ it is wrong to make assumptions of others. It’s- JJ, no.” Y/N continued.

“Babe, it’s okay. Everyone and their mom’s can see that you and Spencer have a thing. For being the two smartest people I know… you’re both very daft.” JJ said sweetly.

“I actually don’t think he likes me, JJ. I noticed that his behavior towards me changed into a more protective one after we finished the case. I think he’s guilty because he was meant to stay with me and we got separated.” Y/N said sadly.

“You cannot possibly be serious.” JJ questioned.

“I am.” Y/N retorted.

“That man is in love with you.”

“No.” Y/N said as they picked up the empty cup they’d previously dropped. “Anyway, we need to finish this before anyone else dies.”

“Y/N…”

“Hotch is waiting.” Y/N left the small room.

When JJ walked outside, the rest of the team was doing a video call with Garcia and Reid. Y/N was busy looking through a stack of papers while Garcia gave more information about the possible unsub.

“Hey Y/N?” Spencer spoke up once Garcia finished.

“I’m here.” Y/N left the stack of papers next to them as they paid close attention to Reid.

Reid cleared his throat twice before he started detailing the information he’d found, “it seems like three people wrote those letters. It wasn’t easy to figure out because the same person switched through hand writings quite easily. So, unless you were looking for it, you wouldn’t have seen it.” Reid finished while holding up the letters now filled with side notes.

“Thanks, Spence.” Y/N smiled at him before picking up the stacks, “that actually narrows down the unsub to four different people.” They picked up a folder one by one and handed it off to others.

“Garcia, tell us anything on Tony Carter.” Hotch asks.

While Garcia was telling them all the smallest details she could find to Tony Carter, Spencer and Y/N both went over the notes again.

“It’s Jared Tall.” They said in unison.

“Babies, you can’t just bring out the genius in the middle of my genius.” Garcia said annoyed.

“How do you know?” Hotch asks the both of them.

“The notes.” Spencer said like it was obvious.

“It did catch me off guard how this one was written, but it says Jared Tall.” Y/N said like it was no big deal as they pointed at the small details that brought out the name Jared Tall.

Y/N’s POV

“Hotch, I’m by the south exit. There’s fresh tracks. I think he’s here.” Y/N told their supervisor.

“Don’t go in without backup. He’s incredibly dangerous and will take out anyone in his place.” Hotch directed.

“Copy.” Y/N finished replying when they felt a sharp pain come across their temple making them crash against the ground. The cold surrounded them as did darkness.

Morgan’s POV

“Morgan, I need you to go to the south exit with Y/L/N. They said there’s fresh tracks and that’s dangerous.” Hotch directed. Morgan didn’t answer and just moved to the exit his supervisor had appointed him to.

“Hotch, Y/L/N isn’t here.” Morgan said through the radio.

“What?” Hotch asked. Derek didn’t need the radio to hear his directions towards the rest of the team.

“Their radio is here, Hotch.” Morgan turned around to face him.

“They couldn’t have gone too far. I gave them directions two minutes ago.” Hotch said while looking around. He turned his radio on and directed everyone to meet at the front of the abandoned cabin. “I need everyone in a group of three. Dogs need to go with you. Y/L/N has intensive knowledge on how to get out of hostage situations but there’s blood on the floor and they may be unconscious now. There’s a likelihood that the unsub took Y/L/N to the same location he has the rest of his victims, if that’s the case he’ll have two children. You need to be extremely careful and vigilant. We have until sundown.” Hotch dismissed everyone Morgan staying behind with him as Hotch called Garcia.

“Genie in a lap. You have three wishes.” Garcia said in her usual chirpy voice.

“Is Reid with you?” Hotch asked.

“No. He went out to get us lunch.” Garcia said as the blood ran cold through her veins, “sir, please don’t tell me that I have to tell Boy Wonder that the person he’s in love with and he doesn’t even realize loves him back, has been kidnapped again.”

“Y/L/N what?” Hotch and Morgan could hear Reid from the other end of the line.

“He knows.” Garcia whispered on the line.

“Reid, I’ve got every agent and officer looking for them. They’ll be okay.” Hotch promised.

“I’ve heard that before.” Reid said darkly.

“I’ll call with any updates.” Hotch hung up.

Y/N POV

I’ve got a concussion for sure. Okay, and one broken rib. I can’t open my eyes or move, definitely blindfolded and hands are tied. Probably underground. By the voices near me there’s two children here as well.

“The fucking FBI. Fuck.” There was pacing around the room. Only one set of feet were moving around. “If you scream, I kill them.” The unsub said. Not knowing what to do, Y/L/N just nodded. “This wouldn’t have happened if that bitch had just ran away with me.” He continues.

“Who, Jared?” Y/N asked calmly.

“Patty!” Jared shouted. “She had to stay with her stupid perfect family. What about me?” He kept shouting uncontrollably.

“This isn’t your fault Jared. She didn’t deserve you.”

“You’re right. She had to pay.” Jared kept pacing.

“Jared, I need you to do me a favour.” Y/N approached. “You need to let the children go. They’re innocent in all of this, just as much as you are.” The added in the end.

“They’re right, Jared. The children are innocent.” Y/N heard Morgan say evenly. “They’re just as innocent as you. They’d never hurt anyone, just like you.” Morgan approached. Y/L/N could now hear him walking near them. Something must have happened in the ten seconds that there was complete silence, because all Y/N heard after that were three gunshots and suddenly they were being untied. “It’s Morgan, you’re okay, Y/N.” Morgan whispers to them.

“The children.” Y/N whispers.

“JJ’s got them.” Morgan replies.

“I’ve got a broken rib.” Y/N tells him.

“Anything else?” Morgan asks as he lifts them from the entrance.

“Nothing I can feel as of now.” They reply surely, “Morgan, Reid is-.”

“He knows you were taken. He’s not happy at the moment.” Morgan replies.

“Where’s Hotch?”

“We found another child near here and he’s been assisting on that.”

“This wasn’t his fault. None of us could have known.” They tell Morgan.

“Tell that to your lover boy. He’s pissed.” Morgan laughs as he sets them on the bed of the ambulance.

“He’s not my-.” Y/N starts saying before getting interrupted.

“He’s in love with you. That makes him Lover Boy.”

Morgan teases.

“I cannot wait for you to no longer be single.” Y/N teases him.

“Right back at ya, Pretty Face.” Morgan flicks his finger against their chin and walks away; allowing the first responder to assess their wounds.

Y/N had to get checked at the local hospital, the rib that had fractured was making it painful for them to breathe and couldn’t wait to get checked in Quantico.

To say the ride back was long and uncomfortable was an understatement. They’d spend two extra days in California and that was two days too long.

“You get to see your mans today.” Morgan teased.

“Hotch, Morgan is being annoying.” Y/N said loudly.

“Did you just tattle on me?” Morgan asked in mocked surprise.

“And I’ll do it again.” Y/N said confidently.

“Behave or I’ll ground you both.” JJ said sternly. Once the jet landed, all their teasing suddenly vanished. Garcia and Spencer were waiting for them at the entrance of the BAU floor. No one said anything as they all hugged each other, Y/N keeping their distance from the team as Spencer gave the rest of the team a small half hug trying not to be rude as his family came in contact with his arms. The all unsubtly excused themselves, giving Spencer and Y/N some privacy.

Something changed inside Spencer when he found out that Y/N had been abducted. Something shifted, it was like he finally understood he could no longer pretend and show a façade every time he was around them.

Gravity was working differently now, or maybe it was their legs, neither of them were sure which it was. They crossed the small space between them as Y/N crashed against Spencer’s arms; the world just that much lighter now that neither of them were holding anything in. Spencer held them so tightly he was sure he was going to turn them into dust.

“Wait, your rib-.” Spencer started.

“Shh.” Y/N pulled away further from him as they grabbed him by his sweater vest and their lips finally met.

There was cheering in the near distance but they both pretended they didn’t know what was going on behind them.

Spencer pulled away for a second causing Y/N to give him a slight pout, “go on a date with me?” Spencer finally asked.

“Only if you go back to kissing me.” Y/N replied, Spencer attaching their lips together before Y/N could even finish the sentence.

#reidisreading #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds spencer #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Note

Hey :) can you please write about jo wilson (grey‘s anatomy) plot would be like „you guys are an engaged couple an you get in a pretty bad car accident and you flatline infront of her in the trauma room etc“

I love your stuff! ❤️ thank youuu

This request got a bit forgotten in my message box, sorry about that anon. I won't be able to write the “jo wilson plot” because I have never seen Greys Anatomy, and I really don't like medical shows. I also have a similar angst I believe, it is called Forever And Always , maybe you would like to give this one a read.

Also, i said already that Wanda suffered enough, i’m not giving her sad endings anymore, canon hurt her enough.

Glad to know you like my stuff, hope you like this, even if is short.

-.-

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Bitter Present

Summary: Reader and Wanda are married, and they are involved in a car accident.

Words: 3.499K || Read on AO3

Warnings: Angst, brief mention of smut, a bit of fluff, happy ending people i promise.

Marks: @mionemymind - @abimess

-.-

Present

"Honey, I can't find my keys." You said to your wife as you rummaged through the kitchen sink drawers.

Wanda let out a giggle, and you were startled when she suddenly touched your waist; you hadn't heard her approach. She wiggled her fingers on your belt, and lifted the metal item to your face.

"They were with you the whole time." She said in a playful tone and you smiled, grabbing your keys, and turning to her.

"All set?" You asked and Wanda nodded, kissing you quickly as she walked towards the exit, you hurried to keep up with her.

"I already called Nat to let her know we're leaving." Wanda says as you get into the car, you mumble in agreement.

As you drive to the house of your best friend, Natasha Romanoff, intending to attend her engagement party, you let out a worried grumble as you look up at the sky.

"I think there's a storm coming, honey." You say to Wanda in the passenger seat.

"Good thing the party is indoors then." She completes with a smile. You look at her tenderly as the headlight is closed. Wanda is so beautiful, you always think you are too lucky to have married someone so amazing.

"The light turned green." She comments with a playful smile, blushing slightly as she notices your gaze on her. You blink awkwardly, turning back to drive.

//-//

Eight Years Ago

Your palms are sweaty.

Natasha managed to set you up on a blind date after forcing you to sign up for a popular dating app since not only are you absolutely terrible at it, but you are also a surgeon, and don't exactly have a lot of time available for dating. But after much insistence, you accepted.

She texted you as you were about to arrive at the restaurant, and you pulled out your cell phone from your pants pocket. The notification read "Talk about casual stuff, please. Don't overthink it Try to relax. You can do it." You smiled at her attempt to instruct you.

Your date had not yet arrived, and you sat down at the table that the app had reserved for you. Nat had told you that there would be other pairs, so you weren't that surprised when you noticed so many other couples at several tables placed next to each other, in a row.

You had left the options open, so you didn't even know the gender of your partner, not that it really mattered.

Fortunately you didn't wait that long, when a handsome young man approached you, roses in his hands, which made you blush more from surprise than anything else. You greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek and he sat down in front of you.

A little small talk, and you were enjoying yourself. He was nice, and as bad at this as you were, you realized. When you ordered the main meals, however, something interesting happened.

"Hey, I think those are our orders." Commented a black man with an endearing smile. He was sitting at the next table, talking to a redhead. You and your date, Bucky as he had previously introduced himself, smiled in confusion. And then you noticed that the food you had just received was not yours, but that the one at the next table was.

"I think the team must be overwhelmed with so many people." You said as you helped the couple next to you exchange their orders.

You blushed when your gaze met the redheaded girl's, being impressed by her stunningly green eyes, and you almost knocked over your plate.

"I guess that's right now." Said the man as you finished, he was quite nice, and you risked another glance at his date, before quickly looking away when she glanced back.

"Yeah, I think it's fine." Bucky replied smiling.

The meeting took an unconventional turn after that. Bucky noticed the small army necklace the stranger was carrying, and made a comment. And then the two boys began to talk excitedly, and you and the redheaded girl exchanged accomplice looks. When they noticed, they immediately excused themselves, and you giggled.

"I have an idea." You said, and then you exchanged partners.

"That sure is against the rules of the app." Bucky remarked with a smile and you laughed as he sat down at the next table, and the redhead in front of you.

"I'm Sam by the way." The guy next to you introduced himself, and you smiled when you said your name back.

"Hi." You greeted the girl who sat down across from you.

"Hi." She said smiling at you. "I'm Wanda."

//-//

Seven years ago.

"Wow, what are you doing here?" You ask in surprise as you walked down to the reception desk.

"What are you doing here?" Wanda retorted in the same tone, and you looked down at her clothes in shock.

"My god, you've been transferred to my hospital" You exclaimed as you understood and Wanda let out a short laugh.

"I see you've already made friends with the new pediatrician, Doctor Maximoff" Announced Fury, your boss for four years, and also director of the Avengers State Hospital, who you hadn't even noticed was present when you walked down to the reception desk and found your girlfriend.

Wanda had mentioned that she had requested a transfer from the hospital where she worked, and is waiting for an answer. With the busy life you both led, you had forgotten to ask about it. And then here she was, duly uniformed and smiling at you.

"I suppose I have HR paperwork on relationship politics to prepare for you two." Commented Fury with an insinuating look when he noticed the way you and Wanda looked at each other. The two of you exchanged shy smiles. "In the meantime, why don't you take the tour with your friend, doctor Y/L/N?"

"Sure, Director Fury, i got it." You nodded in agreement before the man walked toward his own office.

//-//

Six years ago.

"That is so risky." You heard Wanda sigh breathlessly as you had her pressed against a locker, your lips kissing her neck as your hands drifted dangerously down her body.

"Honestly, Fury is to blame." You retorted as you opened the buttons of her blouse. "Forcing me to take time off while you're on duty. I can't believe I'm going 26 hours without touching you. You grumbled as you grabbed her right breast, causing Wanda's smile to turn into a low groan.

"I'll go to your apartment when I'm done." She replied, blushing and biting her lips to stop herself from making so much noise. You nodded before kissing her deeply, your hands reaching inside her pants, your mouth holding back her moan.

//-//

Five years ago.

You smiled as you felt Wanda's arms around you, hugging you around the waist.

"This is our home." She commented tenderly. You stood in the empty living room. The key in your hands.

"Yes, dear." You retorted smiling, "This is our home."

//-//

"Have you ever thought about having kids?" Wanda asked softly as you both were lying in your bed. You stopped staring at the bedroom ceiling to look at her, laying your face on your pillow and slipping your arm underneath.

"I didn't like the idea." You confessed watching her mimic your position.

"What changed?"

"You."

Wanda smiles shyly, and you lift your hand to caress her cheeks.

"Do you think we could do it?" You asked, watching her intently. She blinked slightly confused and you added, "With so many shifts, and little free time. Do you think that would be a good idea?"

Wanda sighed, thoughtfully.

"I don't know." She replied. "It would be a difficult change. We would need to organize ourselves very well so that the kids wouldn't feel alone and..."

"The kids? As in plural?" You interrupted amused, Wanda laughed.

"Oh, sorry, you just want one kid?" She asked slightly ironically, joining in the joke. You pretended to be thoughtful.

"I think we can handle eleven."

"Eleven?" Wanda asked in surprise, laughing softly.

"Yeah, like on a soccer team. One kid for each position on the team" You explain smiling.

"Shut up" She retorted pushing your shoulder lightly while laughing.

//-//

Four years ago.

"That's hot." You said looking at Natasha's cell phone screen, a picture of a lingerie. She let out a sigh.

"Yeah I know." She retorted taking the cell phone out of your sight and turning back to herself. "Bruce said he wanted to spice things up, and well, that's going to be interesting."

"I'd like to not talk about it over my lunch, though." You hit back with a smile, Nat laughs as she put the cell phone on the table.

"Sorry, but that's what friends are for." She says with a smile as she reaches for her own fork. You are having lunch in the main cafeteria of the hospital, it must be about two o'clock in the afternoon. "And how are things going with Wanda?"

You fiddle with your salad for a few moments, shrugging.

"I've never been more in love with someone." You comment.

"Well, you live together, so that's a good thing."

"I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Nat chokes in surprise, and looks at you with glazed eyes, before letting out an exclamation of happiness that attracts the attention of your colleagues around you.

In the next second she is listing a thousand ways the party could take place, famous buffets, flavor of cake, and you are smiling.

//-//

Present

"And how is the adoption process?" Natasha asked as you two stood in the garden. It had been a couple of hours since you and Wanda arrived at the wedding reception, and you are sitting at one of the outside tables, lots of guests around you. No rain yet.

Wanda smiles as she tells you that you have already met the twins, and that you are in the final processes of making everything official.

"They are so amazing, Nat, you have no idea." You comment as you show her a picture of the boys on your cell phone. Two five-year-old brothers. "They're not a full soccer team, but we'll get there."

Your joke makes Nat and Wanda laugh, and you take a sip of cider as Nat looks at the pictures.

Three years earlier.

You stuck your head through the warehouse door and let out a sad sigh when you found Wanda sitting on the floor, her head between her legs.

"Hey honey." You greeted her as you entered and closed the door, walking over to her to sit beside her on the floor.

Wanda wiped away tears with one hand as she raised her head and grasped the other in your lap.

"Hey." She answered weakly, and you squeezed your hands together.

"I'm sorry." You said. "It wasn't your fault."

"It's not how I feel." She retorted hurt. "Nor how his family feels."

You sigh lightly, wishing you could change things. But you can't.

"Unfortunately we can't save every patient, Wands. You've done everything you can."

"He was only four years old." She retorted tearfully.

"I know honey." You said releasing her hand to put your arm between her shoulders. Wanda sank into your embrace, crying softly. "I'm sorry."

//-//

Two years earlier.

You heard a familiar noise as you entered the living room, and you looked suspiciously at your wife when she startled when she saw you.

"Honey, what are you hiding back there, huh?" you asked crossing your arms. Wanda looked at you with surprise.

"Hey honey." Wanda said half-heartedly. "Don't be mad."

A meow echoed in the room and you let out a giggle.

"I imagine it wasn't you who made that lovely sound, was it, Wanda?"

Wanda moved to the side, and you let out a sigh as you observed the small creature inside a box on the table beside the sofa.

"I found it around the street corner."

You let out a chuckle, uncrossing your arms as you walked over to the animal. The cat couldn't have been even two months old.

"And of course the most logical choice was to bring him home instead of dropping him off at some pet shop."

"He was hungry." She retorted slightly upset, you laughed, taking your attention away from the cat to look at Wanda.

"Why are you grimacing, now I have two kittens at home." You joked stealing a quick kiss from Wanda, who relaxed her posture immediately.

"So can we keep him?"

You laughed, reaching out your arm to hug Wanda by the shoulders, she relaxed against you.

"We're going to have to figure out how to take care of a cat while working fifty hours a week, honey."

//-//

Present

You kissed Natasha's cheek as you said goodbye, Wanda mimicked your movement next. You both waved to Bruce again as you walked back to the car parked in front of your friend's house.

"Be careful in the rain." Nat warned as soon as you arrived at the vehicle, and you nodded in agreement.

By the time you have been driving a few minutes, Wanda turns on the radio, softly humming the song that begins.

"Can we watch something when we arrive?" She asks next, and you smile.

"By something you mean a sitcom?" You quip humorously, and she laughs softly, mumbling in agreement.

You are silent, and Wanda only speaks again when it starts to rain.

"This is getting heavy." She comments as she watches the drops thicken.

"Yeah, I'll pull over until it gets better." You tell her also worriedly, as you slow the car down to stop on the shoulder.

You think you hear a brake and turn your head to the side quickly, and a golden light is all you see before you black out.

//-//

You wake up in a jolt.

"Wanda?" That is the first question that escapes your lips. You blink in confusion trying to get used to your surroundings, there is a hand on your forearm the next second. "Nat, what...?"

"Hey, easy." Your friend asks pushing you lightly on the bed. She has a tired countenance and you look at her with confusion.

"Where's Wanda? Where am I?" you begin to despair, noticing your surroundings.

"You're in the hospital." She replies stopping you from getting up, not that you have much strength anyway. Your body aches. At her words you notice the room around you. It is a white room. There are needles in your arm. " You guys suffered an accident."

You choke in surprise, trying to sit up, but you feel a sharp pain in your ribs.

"Where is my wife?" You ask again, feeling your throat close up. Nat looks away.

"She's in surgery, Y/N," Nat replies gloomily. You feel your eyes fill with tears, but you force yourself to sit up, pushing Nat's hands away. "Please, you can't strain yourself."

"No." You interrupt. "I need to see her."

"Y/N."

"I need to." You repeated again pushing your feet off the bed. Nat had a tearful face, but grumbled that you would make her lose her job some of these days as she helped you remove the needles in your arm.

Nat led you around the hospital to the trauma center, you ignored the curious glances your co-workers and a few strangers threw at you through the hallways. You leaned against the glass, watching Wanda on a gurney, many doctors around her.

Your face wet with tears as you asked:

"What happened?"

"A truck driver lost control." Nat replied looking at you. "It hit you on the breakdown lane. Wanda... She has a skull fracture."

You sobbed, lowering your gaze.

"Stephen is operating, Y/N" Nat continued as he held your hand. "He's the best we've got, we're going to do everything possible..."

"I can't lose her." You breathlessly interrupted, crying. "God, I can'..."

Nat hugged you next, and you collapsed in sobs.

//-//

Wanda had been in surgery for six hours.

Fury made you go back to your room and get checked up. And after doing this, and putting on a change of clothes that Nat had picked up for you, you went back to the trauma room, and waited.

Your face is wet with tears when your phone rings, and you go out into the hallway to answer it.

"Yes?" You asked in a hoarse voice.

"Miss Y/L/N?" A female voice asked, you ran your free hand across your face before confirming. "I have great news for you and your wife, dear. The judge has cleared the finalization of the adoption. You can pick up the twins at the orphanage on Monday morning."

You let out an exclamation of surprise. And then you are holding back the cry.

"Wow, that's... Incredible." You laugh breathlessly. You swallow the emotion in your voice. "I'm going to... I'm going to let Wanda know. She... She'll be very happy."

"Yes, I can imagine. Congratulations to new moms." Says the woman, and you hang up, no longer able to hold back the crying. You sit on the floor, sinking your face into your arms.

Nat appears beside you a moment later, concerned as she places a hand on your forearm, but you are unable to say anything for long minutes.

//-//

When the surgery is over, Wanda is in an induced coma.

Stephen is saying that the procedure went well, but that they need to leave her under observation, and that there are considerations to be made and they cannot know what the sequelae are, but it all seems like noise to you.

Nat says you should sleep and eat, but you are already walking over to stand next to Wanda's bed.

"Hey, honey" You tell her softly, reaching into the sheet to hold her hand. "You'll be glad to know who called." You tell Wanda, wiping away your own tears as they flow. "We're going to be mommies, Wands." You gasp. "You need to wake up soon, honey. We need to be there on Monday."

Wanda just stood there, unmoving. And you sobbed, looking away. Stephen was beside you again, updating the documentation about Wanda's surgery.

//-//

"Enough, you need to eat something." Nat announced as she pulled you out of the room by your arm, a few hours after you arrived in Wanda's room. "And you're going to take a shower too."

You were so tired that you couldn't even resist, taking one last look at your sleeping wife as you were dragged out.

Nat waited outside the locker room while you took a shower. And then she took you to the cafeteria.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks as you eat hamburger sitting at one of the tables. You let out a dry laugh, and point outside the hospital.

"If anything happens, I'm going to jump off that bridge". You grumble, and Nat lets out a sigh.

"Don't say things like that, it's not funny." She retorts with concern and you wipe away the new tears that have formed in your eyes.

"I'm not telling a joke, Natasha." You tell her impatiently.

You throw your burger back on the tray, running your hand through your hair.

"I'm sorry about all this, Y/N" Nat says reaching for your hand on the table. It takes a moment for you to shake her hand back.

//-//

Wanda had been in a coma for two days.

You had no more tears, so you just stood by her bedside like a ghost, unable to really think about anything.

Natasha checked on you between shifts, and she also asked Bruce to feed your cat.

After you fetched some coffee in the early morning hours of the third day, you gasped when the device at Wanda's bedside started beeping.

Within a second there were nurses rushing in, and someone was pulling you out.

Your coffee cup fell to the hallway floor as you caught a glimpse of the medical staff using the cardiac defibrillator before the door was closed.

//-//

You awoke in fright, many hours without news of Wanda. You were asleep in the waiting room.

Nat was poking you lightly on the shoulder, his eyes full of tears.

"What is it?"

"She woke up."

//-//

Monday.

"Is it true that we're going to have two moms now?" Billy asked from the back seat. Natasha laughed lightly as she drove.

"Yes, darlings, you're going to love it." She told. "Mama Wanda makes the best cakes, and you will get everything you want from Mama Y/N."

"That's so cool." Commented Tommy to his brother, holding his hand.

"Why couldn't moms pick us up?" Tommy asked a moment later, but Nat's expression was calm in the rearview mirror.

"Mommy Wanda got hurt last week." She recounted. "So your other mommy had to take care of her, but they are waiting for you at home. And I hear there are lots of presents waiting for you."

#wanda maximoff #wanda xreader #wandaxreader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #angst #wanda maximoffxreader

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Stubborn

Everybody taking care of old Hotch because... I don't like it when old Hotch gets left to just die on his own :( don't ask why that's where I draw the line

No pairings

No warnings

In Jack’s second semester of his junior year, Hotch collapses again. He’s home this time, out in his garden under the glaring sun. The day had begun no different than any other. The birds on the powerline chirping and causing their disturbances, as eager for the day to begin as the school-aged children shouting in the street. He’d watched them from the sliding glass door facing the street, his tea warm in his hands. He’d waved at a few, the older ones who recognize him as a mystifying adult with stories to be unlocked. The younger children give him a face akin to a monster’s, his mystery horrifying in their already confusing enough lives.

It’s an hour before lunch. Two hours before Spencer shows up because it’s Thursday and he teaches a class on this side of town every Tuesday and Thursday at 2. One that he occasionally asks Hotch to attend -- as a guest lecturer, as a treat to his students, or just for the company.

He could call just about anyone.

Emily’s downtown, on her way back from a meeting with the Department of Justice. She’d be thrilled for an excuse to not go back to the office and spend an hour or two in his kitchen telling him about those pretentious assholes.

Garcia’s about ten minutes away, working at a nonprofit teaching “at-risk” kids how to code. Being the guiding hand she’d needed as a teenager so that they might not repeat the same mistakes she made. She was lucky, Hotch saved her but he’s not around to catch any more kids like her.

Morgan got hired by a family two streets over to fix up their house before they move in. He’s there now, tearing out rotting beams.

This collapse is not of the life-threatening kind. Not to Hotch at least. There’s no internal bleeding, no emergency surgeries. He doesn’t even need stitches but he’s on so many medications that thin his blood that it’s just on the safer side. From the hospital, he calls who he needs to. Reid first, he’ll worry when he gets to Hotch’s house and sees his truck gone. Then, Jack, it’s better to hear this sort of thing from him and not Emily in half an hour when she needs to yell at someone and who better than the son of the idiot she hates right now? Dave and Emily follow and he trusts them to carry the news the rest of the way. Rather, he simply doesn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d rather Garcia and JJ and Morgan and everyone else just be mad at him than go on to have another conversation about how he’s feeling.

Fine. He just got light-headed. It was the heat and his perpetually low iron and probably his thin blood (the killer had been his blood pressure but they’re working on that). He just needs to get better about remembering to eat breakfast -- a larger breakfast than just tea and toast. Fainting, he assures Dave, happens. Jack’s seen it happen. The heat makes it worse, the summertime drains him. He’s come in from the garden and gotten weak in the knees plenty of times. He actually moved some chairs around the sliding glass door to the yard, prepared for this exact problem.

This over clarification does not help.

Made only the more complicated when he explains his head is fine. The fainting thing really isn’t a big deal, he just needs a ride home. He’d landed weirdly and pulled his back. He left with a new problem entirely, a torn ligament in his shoulder. That is a problem for a different day.

The surgery is set for the week just before Jack’s finals. Armed with a suitcase full of textbooks, his laptop, notes from this semester (and a few from last), and just enough clothes to recycle a few and still be fine, Jack shows up on his father’s doorstep. “I mean, the hospital isn’t exactly the library… but it’s not the worst place I’ve studied.” It’s far too late to send Jack back but Hotch is reluctant to let him stay. Even if he does prefer Jack be his ride rather than the likes of Penelope and that tiny green eye-sore of a car she drives or leave him to Reid and his defensive, jerky driving.

To the sound of “Aaron Hotchner November 2, 1971”, Jack settles down with his books. He tries to put himself in the right headspace for studying but it’s harder than he anticipated. The constant motion of the room unsettles him and he looks up several times to see his father’s reaction. To gauge the anxiety in his face, in the deep breathes that he pulls in through his nose. In how tight his fists are holding the sheets underneath him. It’s a simple surgery and they’ll be out of here in no time.

“Young” his heart had not handled the heavy sedatives and morphine well. Then again, those incidents are always hard to measure against a thing like this. Rushed into the ER with nine chest wounds and having nearly bled to death, it’s natural to conclude the stress of his depleted blood supply and his very recent trauma had caused his heart to stop on the table. That said trauma was the reason his heart had maintained to be a steady problem up until they released him. Again, when he was brought in with some of the worst internal bleedings the staff had ever seen. His heart had given them trouble too.

Jack is staring blankly at his flashcards when the doctor comes out.

Hotch had gone to Georgetown to be a lawyer like his father and his grandfather. Jack went to Georgetown to get an Art History degree. He was lead by something else. Not chasing some shadow, clutching at a lie he spoonfed himself. Jack didn’t live in anyone’s shadow, never felt the pressure to look and act a certain way. Was never beaten into submission or told to hold his tongue. Jack went to museums every Saturday with his father, preferred them to the aquariums and the zoo. Hotch held him close to the artwork, pushed his dense schedule around to go to new shows, and learned the names of pieces just to recite the knowledge back to Jack.

In his lap, Jack is memorizing pieces of art like his father had years ago for him. He’s stuck on The Anatomy Lesson, eyes glued to the details. The way colorless skin is held in forceps, peeled back to reveal angry red. He can feel the pinching teeth on his own skin, feels the heavy flow of hot blood spilling down over his arm.

“Hotchner?”

Jack flinches, caught completely off guard. He stands, flushing as he tucks his notecards into his textbook, and stands. “Ugh, yeah. That’s me.” He wipes his hands off on his pants, rubbing away the nervous sweat he’s built up.

The doctor recognizes him from earlier. He’d watched Jack and Hotch get out one last goodbye. Jack pulling up a nervous smile, dirty-blonde hair, and light eyes a complete contrast to Hotch’s ever-darkening features. Somehow more solemn, voice taken by the sedatives already working through his body. He hadn’t said a word, eyes vacantly following Jack’s movements but unaware.

Jack expects the same monologue he hears every time. The one that comes out so dry and perfect that they must practice it in front of the mirror, say it softly to themselves as they as they get ready each morning. He’s got it memorized himself -- the bits about recovering in post-op, make a full recovery, and whatever on the fly timeline they give for access back to the room.

“But he’s-- He’s okay? He’s--”

Jack feels impossibly childish. Five years old and Emily’s chilled fingers brushing his tears away, “baby, I know you miss your mommy. But you’re being so terribly mean to your daddy.” He had been, a terrible little monster squirming away from his father and refusing to eat anything. Throwing tantrums about nothing and everything. Screaming and crawling under his bed every chance he got. Pushing himself to the wall knowing he couldn’t be reached.

Now he can remember Hotch just sitting at the edge of the bed. There on the floor for hours. Sometimes he read, would pick up a book, and just start from wherever just to make it so his voice was reaching where he couldn’t. He slept there too, on the hard ground just to make sure Jack knew he was there. Slipped strawberry pop tarts on crazily designed animal plated under there, offered bites of his own food to the darkness under the bed. Sippy cups full of chocolate milk and juice.

He feels like a little boy again, getting news that he has no idea how to handle.

“He’s okay?” Jack stammers. “He’s going to be okay? I can see him?”

Hotch remembers those days under the bed too. Waking up in the middle of the night as Jack groggily curled close to him, still under the bed but crawling under his blanket. The ends of those awful sobs, Jack’s little chest jerking as he hiccuped. The force of his sorrow was too much for his little body. And Jack would fall into his lap, exhausted and needing comfort. His little fingers tracing the scars on Hotch’s face. How he whispered “thank you” and “please” from underneath the bed and how he’d pop his head out to say, “Daddy, I’m going to potty. I’ll be right back.”

Jack’s legally old enough to drink now and Hotch still sees that little boy. The three-year-old wiping his snot on Hotch’s dress shirt. The six-year-old holding his hand and reminding him to look both ways twice before crossing the street. The eight-year-old he left the hallway light on for, old enough now to think he needed to brave the night without a nightlight. So Hotch would offer to keep the hallway light on, not for Jack but for him because he doesn’t like the dark. The ten-year-old sheepishly offering him a father’s day gift he bought with saved allowance, a t-shirt he’s now worn the words off of. The fifteen-year-old curling up beside him on the couch, seeking his comfort but not sure how to ask anymore. The eighteen-year-old as tall as him talking his ear off while he tries to get dinner ready, sticking his fingers in the pan and sitting on the counter.

How did he grow up so fast?

He’s not a little boy anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.

The creaking of a chair moves Hotch’s attention and he looks away from Jack. Away from the sight of his little boy curled up on a cot, drooling onto a pillow and notebook still open, a pen dangling from his fingers. He looks over and Emily’s sitting up, her reading glasses precariously sat on the tip of her nose. “Oh look,” she mumbles. She stretches out, groaning as her joints complain from being held in this miserable hospital chair for hours. “You’ve decided to join the land of the living.”

Hotch watches her fold the thin black frames of her glasses up, gently sits them down by his hand as she stands up. Jack had called her, even though he promised he wouldn’t worry anyone. Hotch didn’t want anyone else coming to the hospital over something so small and though Jack protested that their concern wouldn’t be because he was bothering them but because they love him. The very same reason he’d come home is that people gather after these sorts of things. They need reassurance that he’s alive and he’s just going to have to accept that. They compromised in the end, everyone could come to smother him in worry after he got home from the surgery.

But Jack was scared. He called the only person he could think to, the woman whose role in his life that was never really clear. She’d gotten on him about his grades, smacked the back of his head when he said something stupid, and always let him taste-test her wine at Thanksgiving dinner. Emily knew things that not even Jessica knew and she could be sterner than both Hotch and Jessica and also more relaxed, more understanding. She was always there for both of them, in the same capacity as Jessica and yet her own unique one. A friend Hotch trusted and loved and Jack could understand that. His friends always wanted to know if they were dating and he knew intuitively that the answer was no but he would hesitate to try and explain. But he didn’t understand the gravity that pulled them together, adults and their relationships far too complex to fit it into his simple understanding of love.

He did understand she was the only person to call.

“What’d he do this time?” she asked and knew she was playing the wrong role for the wrong Hotchner because no sooner than she could ask she had an armful of Jack. She sat with Jack for hours, let him get his fear out. Held him while he sobbed, felt pulled to the past. When it was Aaron on her shoulder, terrified he’d lose his son. Life has this very odd way of bringing everything full circle.

“I bet you’re hurting.” Emily moves to the table and pours water into the little paper Dixie cup left by the nurses. “Been right dramatic this afternoon,” she informs him, a dissatisfied matter-of-fact tone in play. “I know you find that to be particularly taxing.” She holds the cup for him, gentle despite her annoyance. She’s close enough to see the iodine on his skin. Dark orange swipes across his pale skin, the smell burns with its strength.

He pulls greedily from the cup, mouth impossibly dry. Stopped only by how little she poured, he sinks back heavily into the pillows behind him. His shoulder hot and angry from forcing himself upright.

“They’re going to let you go in the morning,” she says, sitting back down. He won’t remember this in the morning. Emily holding his hand, whispering thickly how angry she is with him as tears fall down her face. How scared she was getting that phone call from Jack, racing down here to be a composed person to comfort his son thinking her best friend was in the morgue.

He’ll wake up with a pit in his stomach, residual feelings from the night before he can’t tie down to memories. Emily shows no inclination to repeat herself, just coldly informs him that she’ll have Penelope make him a cardiologist appointment (it’s unspoken that no one trusts him to do this himself). Jack walks on glass, close by but terrified of being pushed away. Hotch is too out of it to put up much of a fight, by the time the morning shift has their hands on him he’s silent. Properly dosed up for a ride home and out of his mind.

He’s groggily propped up on pillows, watching Jack and Emily fight over if he has the right to wear shoes or not. Emily wants to hold them captive, he won’t run off or refuse the wheelchair without them and Jack shakes his head, “he’s not our P.O.W, Emily. He’s even going to get that far if he does try to run.” He’s given his shoes but Emily makes a point to collect his cane, holds it while the nurse helps him into the wheelchair. He’s a flight-risk and she’s not going to trust him, he’s run off on her too many times for that.

At the house the other’s have gathered up, having nothing better to do evidently on a Wednesday at ten in the morning. Penelope’s frying eggs and bacon, the carnage it takes to feed their brood spread out on his kitchen counter. Reid sitting on the counter, Hank in his lap, and the two of them watching Penelope. Derek’s on the sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and Savannah learning on his shoulder. Dave’s getting orange juice from the store declared them all lawless, and didn’t trust them to get the right kind.

Hotch is granted his cane to get back inside the house but Emily threatens to kick it out from underneath if he tries anything fast. He smacks her ankle and Jack has to actually step between them to keep them apart. It’s in times like these where Jack finds himself wondering how these two ever had any role in raising him at all.

“Don’t you have jobs?” Hotch asks, hooking his cane over the coat rack and toeing his shoes off. He ignores the hand Emily places on his arm, afraid he’ll knock himself over. He manages just fine, has the whole house set up so that every other step is within arms distance of something to lean on. Fingers trailing the back of the couch he limps past Derek, smiling when Savannah offers a soft “glad you’re okay”. She pats his hand and he nods back.

“Up for some food, sir?” Penelope asks and she’s not taking no for an answer. They might be having heaping servings of eggs and bacon and gravy and orange juice but she’s made two small bowls of oatmeal. She takes the medicine Jack tosses up on the counter, puts it at the end where the rest of his medication sits. “I cut up apples,” she tells Hotch with a wide grin, sliding the bowl in front of him. “Dashed a little cinnamon and sugar in there, it’ll stick to your bones. Keep you healthy.”

He’s at a healthy weight at the moment, not as thin as he leans to when he’s sick but with Hotch, it’s always a good thing to have some collateral weight for the “in case”. Lifting the spoon in his left hand he scoops some of the oatmeal up, doing his best to hide his annoyance at how weak his extremities still are. How his hand shakes under the light strain of the oatmeal. He looks up, watches Spencer carry Hank over to the highchair sitting at the table beside him. He’s distracted so Emily swoops in, takes his spoon from his hand, and tries his oatmeal. He lets her do it. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs. She likes it. He nods, it’s pretty good.

Hank immediately knocks his spoon on the ground and makes a low whining sound in the back of his throat. “Hop help,” he whines, pointing down at his spoon. His speech is still developing so he pronounces help and hop nearly identically but Hotch understands the difference. He just can’t bend over like that. His right arm is still pinned to his chest in an intricate web of gauze and this sling.

“Reid,” Hotch calls. His voice is deep, strained from intubation and anesthesia. It makes him sound sick. “He’s dropped his spoon.”

Reid nods, he already knows.

Hank points to his shoulder and frowns, “Hop fall down?”

Hotch nods, that is pretty much what happened and at the same time, Emily sweeps in and tickles Hank. She presses kisses to his face and making him laugh loudly. “That’s what happens,” she says. “Hops is just old.” Hank is too distracted by the ongoing attack to defend Hotch not that a toddler rising to his defense is very helpful.

Hotch sighs as Jack comes up behind him, stealing his spoon too. He takes a bite of the oatmeal and deems it nearly as good as the kind that Jessica makes. Hotch wants to be annoyed by it and yet all he does is nod and finds himself smirking just a little.

Penelope calls everyone in for breakfast and Hotch ignores the kisses pressed to his cheek as people drag chairs to the table around him. To the hands that slide over his back, assurance of life he remembers Jack calling it.

Derek slides him a mug of tea, made exactly how he likes it. He sits across from Hotch, close to Hank in case either needs assistance. Emily sits to his left, slides her coffee up beside his tea so he can have some if he’s quick about it. Jack sits beside her and the rest is a blur, too much motion at once for him to take in without his contacts or glasses. Penelope slides a tea plate to him, his medicine on it, and kisses his head while he’s still scowling at the plate.

They don’t leave him alone all day.

He ends up taking a nap with Hank, the toddler’s sticky little fingers holding onto his shirt as he finds himself unable to fight off the effects of the medicine and his full stomach.

He’s squished on the couch between Derek and Dave, forced to watch baseball because he can’t worm his way upright again just yet.

They change the dressings on his shoulder, his teeth clenched tightly so that he doesn’t let anything slip.

At midnight he wakes up on the couch. Jack’s bedroom door is shut, he’s sleeping peacefully inside. His heating blanket is pulled up to his chin, the heat turned up all the way. He can’t remember getting into this state himself but he has a fate memory of JJ helping him move his hand to his mouth, encouraging him to take the pain killers before bed. Of Derek making sure he didn’t just fall straight over onto his side. He manages to find Dave stretched out on the Lazyboy -- the chair he got Hotch for his fifty-something birthday. He’ll wake up in the morning to more food being made in his lonely kitchen, JJ this time. She’ll make blueberry waffles.

If he’d wanted attention, Emily will tease the next morning, he could have just asked. And he didn’t even know he wanted this. He never finds the words to ask for it to continue but every Saturday morning it happens anyway -- his kitchen and living room full of pajamas and suits in varying degrees depending on who has what to do that morning. The fainting thing is not cool but he considers this to be a good trade.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #savannah hayes #hank morgan #jack hotchner #emily prentiss #david rossi #penelope garcia #spencer reid #jennifer jareau

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cudan2 · 3 years

Text

One Last Surgery

Spring Break Shadowing Part 5.1

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,043

Summary: You finally find out the reason for going to the children’s hospital, but you’re more distracted than usual today and Dr. Cullen can tell.

A/N: Tell me why part 5 of SBS takes up over half of the whole series? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 5 months because I keep adding more to it smh. Now it’s too long so I’ve decided to split it up into 3 parts (in addition to parts 6 and 7). I’m making the final edits the rest of this part now - 5.2 should be posted in like two days.

Anyways, this is technically the beginning of #1 and #2 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is only across the street from Doctor Cullen’s office, but it seems to take forever to get there. You trail the doctor like a lost puppy through a skyway and a series of corridors before eventually reaching the right building. Different is definitely an understatement.

Gone are the linoleum-tiled floors, the abstract paintings lining the hallways, and the stark white walls. Instead, there are bright colors everywhere you look. Artwork featuring various galaxies and planets scatter throughout the hospital, and giant stars are imprinted along the floors; even the whole atmosphere just feels different.

You don’t get much time to analyze the differences though. Doctor Cullen is wasting no time to reach the destination, and his long legs aren’t making it any easier to keep up.

“Not that I don’t like surprises, but any chance you can tell me what we’re doing in the children’s hospital now?”

“Impatient, are we?” Doctor Cullen chuckles. He stops at an elevator and pushes the up button, only giving into your question once he catches a glimpse of your pout. “Alright, you win. Are you familiar with a cleft palate or cleft lip?”

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open with it. You shake your head no and get on the elevator with him. He presses the button for the floor and then leans against the wall, arms outstretched on the handrail, and gives you an explanation.

“A cleft is a gap or split occurring in the roof of the mouth, upper lip, or both. It is due to improper joining of the tissue during fetal development. There are no definitive known causes as of right now, but it’s believed that the environment and genetics can play a role.

The hospital has its own craniofacial team, but I was asked to join this particular case given its more complicated nature. Hanna became one of the first patients I treated when I came to Columbia,” Doctor Cullen finishes fondly, a smile gracing his lips.

“What makes this case complicated?” you ask.

“Hanna was born with a bilateral complete cleft lip and palate, meaning her lip cleft is two-sided and continues into her nose. It took quite a few surgeries to repair the lip, but now the next step is to repair the palate.”

The elevator reaches the floor and dings. You follow Doctor Cullen out and continue prodding him with more questions, which he is more than eager to answer. It’s incredible how knowledgeable he is. Granted, it is his job to know these things, but you couldn’t begin to imagine yourself being able to even scratch the surface of these topics, not to mention give a mini lecture on it.

You’re soon standing at the door to a patient room while the doctor asks Hanna’s parents if you can observe. They readily agree, and Doctor Cullen motions for you to come in.

Inside the room, you see an infant that can’t be more than a year old – Hanna. She’s sitting upright on the bed, leaning against who you assume to be her father. You notice two fading scars going up into her nose above her lip. Her mother is waving a stuffed toy around her, but Hanna’s attention is fixated on the blonde doctor.

“Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Hanna’s parents, Anthony and Linh Pham. And this is Doctor Giselle Adamou, who will be working with me on the surgery,” Doctor Cullen gestures to the older doctor in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say politely.

Pre-op goes differently than what you’ve gotten used to observing this week. There is no case presenting given the lack of residents on the case. If anything, this is what you would expect out of a non-teaching hospital.

Doctor Cullen re-explains the procedures to Hanna’s parents, but halfway through, Hanna crawls to the end of the bed where Doctor Cullen is and attempts to stand, arms outstretched as if to say, “Up! Up!” Bewilderment is not a word you would have associated with him, and yet you catch the brief widening of his eyes that betray his usually calm demeanor.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Linh comments.

“I can see,” Doctor Cullen muses. “Do you mind?”

“She’s all yours.” Linh picks her daughter up from the bed and hands her to the doctor. The sound of Hanna’s elated laughter fills the room, and you can’t stop a small smile from appearing on your own face. A cute baby and a gorgeous doctor? You don’t know who to thank for the sight.

Meanwhile, Hanna starts playing with various pens in Doctor Cullen’s breast pocket while Doctor Adamou continues where her colleague left off. You try to pay attention, you really do. Like Hanna though, your attention lies on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Doctor Cullen.

The more you study him, the more the minute features you never noticed about him before seem to pop out to you. Under the bright fluorescent lighting of the hospital, the dark purple circles under his eyes are more apparent than ever. How ironic for the preacher of health to lack sleep himself. His eyes, which you normally consider to be a vivid golden, are darker than you initially thought them to be. They are liquid pools of dark amber, speckled with dustings of gold and flecks of black. There isn’t a single blemish on his face that you can see either, further confirming your belief that this man is truly the most attractive person you have ever met. Either that or he must have one hell of a skincare routine.

It’s unnerving how young his appearance is. Skincare and diet can only do so much for a person, right? Doctor Cullen has to be at least 35 at the minimum, yet he could easily pass off as someone from your own school.

“Any last minute questions?” you hear Doctor Adamou ask and snap back into reality. By missing nearly everything the older doctor talked about, you already know you’ll be so screwed if and when Doctor Cullen decides to interrogate you on this case.

Neither parent has anything left to say, so Doctor Cullen gives a reluctant Hanna back to her mother. She lets out a cry and his expression softens.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, but I need to get ready for your big surgery, okay? I promise you’ll see me again in a few hours.” His soothing voice does wonders for her. In an instant, Hanna quiets down and her frown is replaced with giggles and smiles again. She waves the two of you off, and you both take your leave with Doctor Adamou trailing behind you. You’re not even halfway out the door yet when Doctor Cullen starts testing your knowledge again.

“Y/N, what procedure will we be doing to repair Hanna’s cleft?”

You do not have this one in the bag whatsoever. You wrack your brain for information that could help you, but Doctor Adamou interjects before you get a chance to say anything.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re treating students like interns already, Carlisle?”

“I am merely advancing the education of next generation’s doctors,” he responds.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Don’t scare off Y/N though, or we won’t have any doctors left in the next generation.” She turns to you after picking up files from a nearby counter and says, “You come running to me if he pushes you too hard, alright?”

You grin. “For sure.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both in the OR,” she says before heading off.

You like Doctor Adamou. Each surgeon you’ve met here so far has had such different personalities, yet each also has the charisma and confidence to take control of a room and command respect. You, on the other hand, could barely get your own friends to listen to your own words. How are you ever going to get on the level of all the amazing doctors around you?

“She saved you there,” Doctor Cullen comments, leafing through Hanna’s charts as he walks you into an empty elevator to the operating floor. Oops, it’s just your luck that he noticed your lack of attention during the pre-op. “It’s unlike you to be distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

The elevator doors shut, and he looks up from the chart, his eyes falling onto yours. He has that twinkle in his eyes again – the one that brings warmth to your cheeks and could make anyone weak in their knees. You know it’s silly, but a single look from him could make you spill any of your deepest and darkest secrets, yet a part of you also knows that he would keep it. You’re not naïve – you know it’s dangerous to put so much faith into a man you only met this week – but there’s something about him that told your instincts to trust him from the very beginning.

Call it intuition, or maybe it’s just plain stupidity, but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him about how you got distracted because of his pretty face.

You hesitate for a moment and let out a sigh. “How do you do it?” He quirks a brow, momentarily perplexed, and you attempt to find the right words. “How do you make all of this look so easy? How do you know what the right thing to say is? Or trust that what you’re doing is even right? How did you know if this was all meant for you? This is really dumb, but it seems like everyone here was born for this job, and then there’s... me.”

There’s a slight sense of dread starting to form in your stomach. You’re unsure if what you asked even made any sort of sense and wonder if you gave too much away. Giving any reason to second guess your abilities is like digging your own grave when it comes to this career. Expressing uncertainty is one of the biggest taboos of the cutthroat world that is pre-med because schools would not accept students that aren’t absolutely, totally, and completely sure about this path.

You’ve wanted this for so long, yet there’s still a part of you that doubts if you would be enough.

Rather than going straight to gowning and scrubbing in for the surgery, Doctor Cullen grabs your hand and leads you down to an abandoned hallway, only letting go once the two of you are hidden in an alcove away from any prying ears or eyes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for surgery?”

“We have a few minutes to spare. Y/N, please know that I understand how you feel,” he says softly. “There was a time when I questioned my own abilities as well… whether my perseverance could overcome adversity. It took quite some time to reach where I am today. However, without enduring those trials and tribulations, I would not be here. With time comes experience, and it is that experience that allows me to perform my job the best I can.”

His voice reminds you of a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of a tree on a cool summer night when he continues speaking in hushed tones. It brings a blanket of reassurance, a sense that things would eventually be alright.

“I have said this before, but I see enormous potential in you. You still have a great deal of time to grow and develop your skills. It’s easy to get caught up in comparing yourself with others, especially given today’s societal standards, but I believe you are much more capable than you may think you are. Everyone’s journey is different and yours may not necessarily be as linear as you would prefer. In due time though, I have faith that you will succeed.”

What he says is exactly what you needed to hear.

The swell of tears pricks at your eyes and start blurring your vision, but you blink them away quickly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around the doctor.

“Thank you, Doctor Cullen.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe there’s a little girl waiting on us.”

XXX

Tag List - Message me to be added or removed to either this series or the rest of my fics!

@jelly-fishy-babie @notahappytree @anxiousgoldengirl

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen imagine #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagines #twilight renessaince #twilight saga #twilight reboot #twilight renaissance #doctor daddy cullen #you guys can't tell but this whole story was one large self-insert #i started writing this at the beginning of the pandemic #was in the midst of my junior year and about to apply to dental schools #basically got rejected from all 19 schools i applied to only for one to rescind their rejection and offer me a spot for next year's class #it's a school in new york too!!#what are the odds?#for anyone struggling out there or feeling like things aren't going the way you want them to - life has a way of working out eventually #twilight fanfic

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mggssocks · 3 years

Text

Followed

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: None just fluff :)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 1,899 words

A/N: This is Season 10 Spencer with Season 13 looks. Also, instead of it being Kate on the team, i put Emily instead because who doesn’t love the season 3-7 team? Also I might make a part 2 depending on how much this blows up. Honestly i’d be happy if i got one like. Anyways.. hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist // part 2 // part 3

It was 8:00 in the morning. Spencer walked in the doors of the bullpen to the bau. He sat his satchel down and began to settle in for a long day of work. It was pretty early so the team wasn’t in yet. Except for Aaron Hotchner who had gotten in an hour prior to Spencer and been in his office ever since. Apparently others had the same ‘get to work early’ mindset as Spencer. Spencer opened a case file but his attention was quickly whipped away due to the sound of the door opening. He sees Penelope Garcia with all her attention focused on her phone. Spencer quirked his eyebrows when she bumped into a fellow coworker and her attention remained on her phone while quickly mumbling a quick “sorry”. As she passed his desk, Spencer decided it would be the great time to speak.

“Hey, Garcia.” Her feet came to a stop and her head snapped up at him.

“Boy wonder! I’m so glad you’re here. I really need someone to talk to because if I don’t I’m going to explode!” She sits in the chair across from his desk.

“Is everything alright?” He leaned back in his chair.

“No… no everything is not alright. If anything.. everything is all wrong. Very very wrong. I-“ she takes in a deep breath “I was stalking Kevin’s page because the other day I seen him at the mall with another girl. And while I was 56 weeks down in his page, I accidentally liked a picture.” She explained, in a huff.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Spencer was even more confused now than before she started.

“I liked a picture that he posted 56 weeks ago!” Her eyes were wide.

“How is that a bad thing?” His lips pouted as he’d never understand social media.

“Ugh! Reid, you really need to get with the program and get you an Instagram. That means his picture was old and now he knows that I was looking at his page. You understand now?” She asked.

“Oh. Yeah I understand. It’s bad that he knows you were looking at his page.” He asked as Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan had walked in.

“Yes. And now I must go into the bat cave and wait for him to call or text me and ask what me lurking on his page was about.” She whined as she stomped her way to her office.

“What was that about?” Prentiss asked, setting her bags down on her desk.

“Uhh- rough morning” Spencer shrugged, still not really understanding the whole social media thing.

“Hey do you guys have an Instagram?” He asked the three.

“Yeah but I’m barely on it.” Prentiss answered.

“Same here” says Morgan as he takes a seat at his desk.

“Yeah but I only get on to post the boys and myself sometimes” answers JJ.

“What about Hotch and Rossi?” He asked.

“Yup! Rossi likes to post about his expensive wine and cigars. Hotch posts Jack every once in a while and a throwback Thursday.” JJ says.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed for what seems to be the 100th time that day.

“He doesn’t know what that is” Prentiss looks over to JJ.

“It’s something you post like an old picture of yourself every Thursday.” Morgan explains.

“Do you guys do that?” Spencer asked.

“I did last Thursday.” JJ pulls out her phone and opened the app. “This was right after Emily, Penelope, and I caught a guy who was trying to pick up Prentiss by pretending to be an FBI agent a few years ago.” She chuckled showing him a picture.

Spencer takes her phone in his hand and examines the post. 142 likes. 57 comments. He clicks on her name which takes it to her page. 302 followers. As he scrolls, he sees a picture the team took a while ago and sees a little person profile thing the corner and clicks on it causing other names tagged to each individual team member. Except him. After he examined all of their profiles, he gives JJ back her phone and gets to work like the rest of them. He felt a little left out but he knew it was because of his own decisions and not his team. He liked that they didn’t press him about having a social media because they new he was more old school than anything. And it was ironic because he wastage youngest member of the team with the more old school habits.

When Spencer got home he decided he wanted the social media app. The idea of being able to share with his friends and only his friends excited him. Being able to post about his favorite things for his friends to see without talking their ears off.

He opened his phone and went to the app store, typing “instagram” into the search bar. He followed the sites instructions as he made his account. Using a snapshot he took of his bookshelf as his profile picture. He sees the option to add the people in his contact list which was only his team, mom, and his mother’s caretaker. But everyone’s profile popped up and he quickly followed each and every one of them. Except for his mom and her caretaker of course.

Soon enough, he got a follow back from Garcia, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ in that order. Morgan and Prentiss weren’t lying when they said they weren’t on often.

After two weeks, Spencer hasn’t posted anything yet, not knowing what should go on his profile. Morgan and Prentiss ended up following him back and the app ended up adjusting to his interests. Nothing but accounts about interesting facts, books, and doctor who.

It was Friday night and the team had just got back from a case in Chicago. Spencer opened the door to his apartment and set his satchel down on the couch, exhausted. His mind wonders to get something to eat being that he wonders to get something to eat being that he hasn’t ate since before they caught the unsub. Which was about 5 hours and 7 minutes ago but he still needed to get something into his system. Spencer opened his fridge and sees 3 day old Chinese takeout. He shrugs and pops it into the microwave while looking for a book of his to reread while he eats. After he finishes dinner, he gets on his phone and subconsciously pulls up the app. He clicks onto his explore page to discover something else he likes. While scrolling, he sees a picture of someone reading and clicks on it.

765 likes

Yourfriend’sig whenever people ask me what to give you for your birthday or Christmas, I always tell them to get you a book or something green and it works every single time. Happy Birthday to my best buddy, @yourinstagram !

View all 84 comments

Spencer smiles and clicks the heart button and bookmarks it to look at later. He liked the picture. Both the picture and caption reminded him a lot of his own love for books and the color green (hence his apartment).

Once he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth. He found himself subconsciously scrolling through his instagram bookmarks to find her post. He doesn’t know what it was but something about the picture brought comfort to him. As he brushed his teeth, he clicked on the post once again.This time, he actually clicked on your account. It was a private account with 186 followers. The bio read:

Y/N... bookworm.

Her profile picture consisted of a black cat surrounded by either a bunch of well taken care of plants or artificial ones. His finger hovered over the blue “follow” button. As he bent down to spit his toothpaste out, his thumb accidentally clicked the follow button. But he didn't realize so until he looked down again to see the “follow” button replaced with “requested”. His heart basically drops out of his ass. He quickly clicks the button again, taking back his follow.

It was now one in the morning, Spencer laid in bed awake staring at his ceiling. Once again, he clicks onto the app. He scrolled down his timeline and saw a picture Penelope posted of one of her new desk animals with the caption “Got her at a thrift shop! Isn’t she cute??”. He saw that Hotch and JJ liked 45 other people. JJ also commented with two red hearts. Spencer likes the post and keeps scrolling. His thoughts wander to the post about the girl again. He’s never thought about a social media post this much since he’s created an account. He wonders what sparked his interest so much about this one. As he makes his way to the post, clicking on her account. Debating if he should follow her. She’s a total stranger. Do the others follow strangers? There’s no way JJ knows 302 people in real life. He mentally shrugs and presses the follow button. Requested. Again.

He swipes out of her account back onto the post now seeing that she commented on it.

yourinstagram thank you, bubs! ily to the moon n back <3333

It was commented thirty six seconds ago. Meaning she’s currently active. Again, Spencer’s heart sinks and he immediately regrets his decision. Going back and unfollowing her. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s a mess. Over a stranger. But he feels like an idiot. Reacting the way that he did just because he saw that she was online. So he goes and follows her.... again.

After clearing out all of his apps, he turns off his phone and lays down trying to get some sleep before work in a few hours. His thoughts wander to her. What she was like. if she was nice or mean. If she was socially awkward or very outgoing. Before his thoughts could get too far into what she was like, he receives a notification from instagram. He opens his phone and clicks on the notification. His heart began to pound when he saw it.

yourinstagram would like to send you a message!

He clicks on it.

yourinstagram You’ve followed and unfollowed me about 5 times in the past 3 hours. Is there something I can help you with?

Spencer completely forgot that other people got notifications and now he felt like some kind of creep.

spencerreid I’m sorry. I came across your friend’s Instagram post wishing you a happy birthday and i guess i got curious and wanted to follow you if that makes any sense.

He felt so dumb.

yourinstagram and following me once wasn’t enough for some reason???

spencerreid Sorry about that. I’m new to this whole social media thing and don’t follow any strangers. You are the first person I’m following that I don’t know in real life. Again, my apologies for the disturbance. I’ll unfollow you’re account If you’re uncomfortable with me.

yourinstagram i just hope that you’re not one of my raging exes, someone trying to catfish me, or a psychopath lol.

Spencer smiled.

spencerreid Nope. Just me.

She leaves him one read. Spencer’s smile fades when he doesn’t see any three loading dots. She wasn’t texting him back. As he’s about to exit the app, he sees two notifications.

yourinstagram has accepted your follow request!

yourinstagram has requested to follow you.

********

I hoped you like this!!! If this blows up,i will do another chapter!

#spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #matt simmons #david rossi #cm #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #penelope gracia #luke alvez #tara lewis #elle greenaway #spencer reid x you #cat adams

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quitealotofsodapop · 3 years

Text

MvA assorted headcanons

General:

So many years together has made the core monsters inseperable. If something affects one member, it affects the group.

All. The. Monsters. Are. Family.

It takes Susan a while to understand inside jokes and past incidents because of being the most recent addition.

There are Other anomalous creatures kept in Area 5X, but they are either non-sentient and/or are too dangerous to be kept around the more human-friendly monster group.

Area 5X is so gotdang big because they were expecting a lot more kaijus like Insecto to crop up. Sadly not many have surfaced to justify the space.

There’s a hangar in Area 5X full of wrecked UFOs. Some are spacecraft wreckage while others are stuff like weird meteors (Susan’s is in there), and at least one alien creature that got crystallised upon entering Earth’s atmosphere.

There’s significant difference in staff employed at different points throughout the past 50 years. There are far more women on the Area 5X worksheet than back in the 50s, and the guards are generally more sympathetic towards the monsters. Many modern staff members have been reprimanded or let go for failing to uphold secrecy, or for unnecessary cruelty towards the monsters.

Budget cuts were a legitmate concern up until the Battle of Golden Gate Bridge. The facility was far more barebones and sterile before the government had to formally recognise Area 5X’s importance. There have been a lot of redecorating at the facilty since the fat checks started coming in.

Putting individual characters under read due to length.

Susan:

Enjoys many hobbies considered stereotypically feminine; baking, sewing, cosmetics, etc...

Grandparents and extended family are farmers or are atleast connected to the business. Modesto is the agricultural centre of California after all. Her parents were the first of their generation to go against the mold and seek out white-collar careers.

Studied cosmetology in school and was working at a beauty salon to save up for her and Derek’s wedding.

Is very athletic and grew up doing a number of physical extracurriculars like cheerleading, dodgeball, and roller-derby.

Grew up being teased for being the shortest kid in her class/family. They still tease her for it.

Greatly fears causing collateral damage and/or harm to others through her size.

Has issues with anxiety, worsened only by her new job as “savior of earth”. She wishes for a confidant to tell her worries to.

Married life with Derek was doomed to fail. Susan had a plan in place for what came after the marriage, and focusing 100% on Derek’s career was not it. There’s also the line from Derek’s mother about Susan being “the weatherman’s wife”, implying that she was to be the homemaker and not have a career of her own. It’s possible that Susan was planning to settle down and have kids with Derek, but the lack of control she had in moving to Fresno implied that more was going on.

Is currently “taking a break” from love and dating, despite gaining many new admirers.

Tries her best to return to Modesto to visit her family and friends whenever possible, though work often keeps her away for weeks at a time.

If she retains her height-shifting abilities as in the series; Susan goes through really bad “growing” pains.

Link:

Was frozen in his relative late-teens during a cold snap. Got shifted around until he ended up somewhere in Greenland before being discovered by modern humans. Post-thaw he went a bit wild, swimming frantically back south to try and find his old enviroment.

Was one of many scrappy youngsters in his troop, with a number of adoptive parents. The strongest ruled the troop, and Link was fairly weak in comparision to the leaders. He had gotten into a fight the day of his freezing (over something silly in hindsight) and swam away to sulk. When he didn’t return after the cold snap - the troop accepted that he had likely died out on his own.

Likes to freak out humans by making up weird biology facts about his species and ones he’s fought against - like joking about laying eggs or having his tail dettach and regrow like a lizard. However there’s some things he has to ask about, because he doesn’t have medical knowledge or words to describe something.

A lot of his macho behavior came from imitating the guards who kept watch on him. 1950s violent military alpha males aren't a very good role model for someone who doesnt know what societal norms are yet. Link was a lot more insufferable back in the day but chilled out as he began interacting with other walks of life.

Has a high paternal instinct and immediately becomes softer around kids and smaller animals.

Has body language similar to a cat/alligator. Slaps his tail when angry or in deep thought. And yes; Link purrs/rumbles when happy.

Loves monster movies - especially the ones where the monsters “win”. He cried when he saw “Beauty and the Beast” and then immediately booed loudly when the Beast turned human.

Does Not Trust doctors or scientists due to bad past experiences. Will only go to Dr Cockroach and Monger if he ever gets hurt/ill. Gets stressed fast if he has to be in a waiting room or doctors office.

Link had no idea what gender indentities or orientations were until recently - he did come from a pre-human civilization that really didnt mind/care about the schemantics. It took him some time to wrap his head around it. He identifies himself as bisexual after much thought and many hours alone on the computer.

Don't press him about his body. He's built different from humans and cis people. He will punch anyone who doesnt respect his or anyone elses identity.

Has been in love before. It didn’t end well.

Will occasionally wear clothes, but finds it a challenge to find anything that fits him. Will give any shoes he finds to Dr Cockroach and BOB to eat.

The best driver/pilot out of all the monsters.

Dr Cockroach:

True name is Jaques-Yves Herbert. Prefers to just go by "Dr Cockroach" because he dislikes the association with his birth family.

Picks up human languages very easily, although not as quickly as he can understand animals.

Parents were a mixed scientist couple. His father was an aggressive “Strong British Man” that would beat him son down for not following orders or for not meeting his standards for a man. Dr C turned down both chances to attend his parents funerals.

This man isn’t straight. He probably uses old-fashioned slang when asked about romance such as; “I am Uranian” or “I wear a green carnation”. It took Susan a few times to realise what he meant, as she is used to a more open minded enviroment.

Got the idea of transforming into a cockroach from reading Franz Kafkas “The Metamorphosis” as a child. He sympathized with Gregor’s abusive situation, and began considering the possibilties of how one could survive better as a creature like a cockroach.

Studied in biology and entomology in the Uk before moving to the states to follow engineering. Obtained his degree in Dance as a “side gig” in University.

Has been barred from free access to the coffee maker/machine due to overnighters. Once stayed awake so long that he forgot the letter “R”.

Owned a terrarium of Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches throughout college. He mourned each of them when his roommate’s iguana got into the tank.

Was a "beatnik" back in the day and still kinda is. Embraces and encourages modern counterculture as he himself was not given such acceptance in his youth. He has however shamefully eaten his old Lenny Bruce album.

Hasn’t actually aged physically since his transformation. He attributes this to the fact that certain athropods can’t age physically beyond maturity. Link is very jealous.

Has obtained more degrees while in captivity, as Monger allowed him access to research and learning materials. He has however had his allowances revoked for previous escape attempts/doomsday devices.

Does still enjoy human food, but the cockroach instinct of "eat detritus" tends to overrule his eating choices. Can’t cook either.

Ironically a terrible driver. The damages from previous drives has made Monger restrict him from operating even a razor scooter.

BOB:

Pretty much considers himself human. Was created by them, raised by one (Monger), and talks like one. Gets sad when he's reminded that no other humans are blue blobs like him.

Absorbed some dna from the scientists present at his "birth", leading to his eye, speech, and omnivorous diet.

Doesnt actually need to breathe (as he can just absorb oxygen through his mass) but the fact that humans Do means that BOB thinks he has to as well.

Shares some physical characteristics with tomatoes/nightshade plants, as he is technically half tomato. He refuses to eat tomatos for this very reason, considering it cannibalism.

Attracts garden pests looking for a tomato plant. This unwittingly makes BOB a pretty good bug zapper.

Still retains his "mental broadcast" ability from "BOB's Big Break" although at a more subtle level. He tends to parrot the things he accidentally "eavesdropped" on.

Is empathetic, and can tell when others aren't doing ok emotionally. Will flop down on someone who’s really sad to comfort them. No brain, only heart.

Best cook out of the monsters. If he doesn’t forget what he’s making at least.

"Whats a gender? Can I eat it?"

Insectosaurus:

Core body is that of a Japanese Silkmoth, although she ended up being spliced with other animals present on the island during her initial mutation; namely ants and ground squirrels.

Eats over a literal ton of mulberry leaves per day. Also enjoys oranges.

Secretly wishes to be more humanoid.

Was only able to pupate and transform due to physical trauma. It seems that her transformation was like a “power-up” that required her to be in geniune distress for it to activate.

First language is Japanese. She learned it from the intial recovery team, and later developed an understanding of English from years in Area 5X.

Goes into torpor in cold weather. Pretty much impossible to wake her up for missions during Winter, as she needs to “rev up” before becoming mobile.

Still very much Link’s best friend. Still enjoys sports, chicks, and beer.

Monger:

Full name is; Warren Rex Monger.

Is very protective of the monsters and will defend them to the death.

Pretty much raised BOB (as seen when BOB was a baby blob in “Night of the Living Carrots”), and considers him his “freaky gelatinous son”.

Has a reputation of being a “control-freak” due to his aggressive overseeing of the monsters’ containment. This toughness is partly because of incidents that occured without his knowledge. Lets just say some scientists have been wedgied/fired for running experiments on the monsters without Monger’s approval.

Has a very “Ron Swanson” emotional response and view of the world. Crying is acceptable only at funerals and at the Grand Canyon (if he hadn’t lost his tear ducts in the war).

Has been married multiple times. Will not confirm or deny if he is currently seeing anyone.

Invisible Man/TiM:

Legit got out but no one at Area 5X is sure how. He suffered a geniune medical emergency and disappeared after surgery. The other monsters were informed that he died from complications to deter them from getting escape ideas.

Is able to be detected in Infrared light. Dr Cockroach managed to rig up goggles to view TiM in case of injury and to foil pranks.

Was a scientist working on an invisibility potion for the military and used himself as a guinea pig. Hasn’t actually been able to replicate his results since - thinks the effect may have been caused by a genetic abnormality.

Dr Cockroach and him are massive rivals. Both actually met eachother pre-transformation through a CalTech expedition. This makes the pair one of few people that have seen the others human face.

Is 100% naked. Was forced to wear clothing once this was discovered.

A massive prankster and a cynic. Him and Link were a force to be reckoned with.

Has revisted the facility multiple times and has started a number of ghost stories.

Any additions are welcome! I proably have alot more to dump about. Might make one of the alien characters from the series

#monsters vs aliens #mva #susan murphy #ginormica #the missing link #dr cockroach #bob mva #general monger #the invisible man mva #insectosaurus #headcanons

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the-broken-truth · 3 years

Note

Surprisingly, i really love your oc (Eliza Dimitrescu) Senior! Ahem- okay so, my question is could you do a headcanon for the dimitrescu daughters (including Eliza) reacting to their youngest sibling (the reader) die because of various ways such as illness or being killed and others?

I really want to see the bond of caring for their youngest sibling- and this idea has been stucked in my mind for a while, and That's why I drew Eliza's Death and Daniela visited her grave because she still cares about her little sister even though Eliza is already gone-

Oh i almost forgot, it's okay. It's not a canon. Maybe not yet- (hehe)

welp- thank you for ur time! remember, ur junior is always here to help and support u >:3

-Snowwy

Broken Truth: Anything for a friend, Snowwy. Now, let the words weave together!!

Warning - Very Dark, Involving Death [PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK]

- Bela Dimitrescu (Unaware) -

Bela was the Eldest of the Dimitrescu Daughters.

She was the most responsible one.

The one who was aware of anything going on with her sisters.

But in this case, she wasn't and it caused the House of Dimitrescu the loss of something precious - something that would not be returned.

And Bela was to blame.

She stood before the grand fireplace and looked upon the golden urn that sat upon the top of it.

Upon the surface of the glass was a golden plaque with the words: [Y/N] Dimitrescu - Gone But Never Forgotten.

Bela could feel the tears building up.

Her youngest sister was gone...and it was all her fault.

The 2 of them were in the library - Alcina had to attend a lord meeting, while Cassandra, Dani, and Eliza were in the village for some manner of business.

Leaving Bela with the youngest of the Dimitrescu Spawn - a little toddler named [Y/N].

She was young - small. Only 5 years old but could still get into trouble just like her sisters could.

She was mortal - too young for the Cadou Parasite; Mother Miranda wouldn't give it to her until she was at least 15 to make sure she would live through it.

Bela wanted to read something and gave the child a book to read, sitting her in a chair beside her with the stack of baby books with bright and colorful pictures, along with a doll that Eliza had made for the infant.

Bela sat in the chair next to her and the two of them began reading their books.

Hours had passed and it was silent - just as it would be if Bela was alone in the library and it was that silence that made her slip into her own little bubble.

That bubble made it impossible for her to noticed the child got out of her chair and began to walk around.

That bubble stopped Bela from looking up from her book to see her youngest sister climbing on a very unstable bookshelf.

But that bubble popped...when the bookshelf came crashing down...right on top of the girl's tiny book.

Bela's eyes widened as she threw her book away and ran over to the down bookshelf and pushed it off her sister but she could tell by the look on her face...

She was too late.

The toddler's neck was snapped clean half and the light in her eyes was fading fast.

Bela gathered the girl in her arms and tried to hold her head to make her breathe easier but it was no use - no air was coming from her lips...and her heart began to slow its pace...until it stopped completely.

She screamed.

The door burst open.

And the entire family came in.

Alcina shoved her eldest away and held her baby in her arms but seeing as there was no longer a heartbeat, she knew her baby was gone.

The mother cried out in agony as the daughters looked at their eldest sister and asked...

"What have you do?"

She couldn't give an answer.

There was a small service.

The Lords and Mother Miranda attended.

The body was burned and the ashes were placed in the urn and secured above the fireplace.

No one said a word to Bela who just stood there...with her little sister's doll clenched to her chest.

Never again did she enter the library.

Never again did she read a book.

Forever would remain aware - for the sake of her other sisters.

And in honor of the one she lost.

- Cassandra Dimitrescu (Reckless) -

Her mother always told her that she needed to make sure she closed the door to the cellar when she comes and goes from her experiments.

She always thought her mother was overreacting.

But it wasn't until she lost something precious.

Cassandra was bored and wanted to have some fun with the creatures in the cellar.

She took her key and went down there but she didn't notice that she didn't lock the door from the other side to keep anything from getting out.

She had her fun and played with her toys until she was bored again and went up the stairs to return to the castle, only noticing that the door was open and bloody footprints were leading out of the cellar.

Her eyes widened and her blood froze.

One of them got out...

Loud screaming made her jump in her robes - something was wrong! Someone was hurt!

She ran out of the room and slammed the door, making sure to lock it behind her before she followed the bloody footprints.

She began noticing that the footprints were more apart - showing that the creature was running.

No - it was hunting.

But what would it be able to hunt? Everyone in Castle Dimitrescu could take care of themselves.

Except...

Oh no...

Mother Miranda, no...

[Y/N]...

She ran after the footprints and rounded the corner when she saw something familiar on the ground - a bright yellow stuffed bunny.

Not just any bunny - that was [Y/N]'s Bunny, she's had it since she was a baby and she never left that bunny anywhere.

As she got closer - she noticed that the bunny wasn't so yellow anymore.

It was stained.

Stained red.

And the red stained recked of iron.

Blood

And it was still fresh.

Cassandra picked up the bunny and followed the bloodstains down the hall until she came to an open room - crying from the inside.

that was her mother crying.

She entered the room...and her heart sank...

In the room were her mother and sisters - her mother on her knees with her back as she held something in her arms.

On side of the room laid the missing creature that escaped from the basement - dead with his throat sliced open - and its mouth...fresh blood was dripping from its open jaws

Bela noticed Cassandra standing there with the bunny in her hand...and she marched over to her middle sister with fury in her eyes.

"What have you done?" Bela hissed.

"W...What?" Cassandra stuttered but that just made Bela even madder.

'"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!?!"

SMACK!

Cassandra's face hit the ground as her elder sister struck her - she opened her eyes and in her mother's lap...

She could see a small lifeless arm...dangling...

Her worse fears...were confirmed.

Her recklessness...killed her little sister.

- Daniela Dimitrescu (Accident) -

Dani loved danger.

It made her feel like more of a badass and she loved the feeling.

But it made her mother and her sisters uneasy and they constantly warned Dani that she if wasn't careful - there was gonna be an accident.

She didn't believe them.

She didn't listen.

But now...

She wished she did.

Daniela was in the weapons room - testing out a new bow that her Uncle gave her.

She was always told to lock the door to the room to make sure no one came in and was caught in her crosshairs.

But that day, she didn't lock the door - too excited to try her new weapon.

She gathered her arrows in their quiver and began firing them at random targets.

She loved the feeling of the bow in her hand.

She loved the sound of the arrows hitting the hearts of their targets.

She was so entrenched with the feeling that she didn't hear the door open.

When she turned to face the target at her 6, she saw a figure but it was covered in shadows - a new target.

She pointed the arrow at the shadows and released the arrow...

It went soaring...

And hit the heart of the shadow...

And the shadow...screamed in pain.

The rush began fading as the confusion rose and when everything began clear - she was horrified at what she saw.

The arrow did hit it target - the heart.

The heart of her youngest sister.

The girl was groaning in pain as the blood began leaking from the wound.

The girl opened her mouth to speak but it came short.

Dani threw the bow to the ground and rushed to her sister's side - gathering the girl in her arms, careful to miss the arrow in her chest and run out of the room to reach the doctor.

Her mother and sisters stood with her outside the doctor's office, waiting for the doctor to tell them she was able to save her sister.

"What were you thing?!" Eliza screamed at her, "Firing an arrow at an infant?!"

"It...It was an accident. I didn't hear her come in the room." Dani said.

"This is why you were told to lock your door! To make sure nothing like this would happen!" Bela screamed with tears in her eyes.

The doctor came out with her head down and Alcina asked the question.

"How is she?"

The doctor shook her head and said...

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Those were the words that shattered the Dimitrescu Family and all the time, all Dani could think was...

'It was an accident.'

- Eliza Dimitrescu (Killed) -

The day she became the youngest sister was the day that destroyed both her mind and her heart.

It was a normal day - she and her youngest sister was going shopping in the village for a new winter coat for her little one.

Everything was fine until they ran into her.

Eliza's Birth Mother.

She hissed at her.

Demanding money.

"I'm your mother, you have to do what I say!" Was her reason

But Eliza was a Dimitrescu and she owed her nothing and warned her never to approach her again.

But she didn't listen - it must have been a mental problem or maybe she was drunk...but that would cost them both deeply.

The stray woman lunged forward and grabbed the little girl by her wrist, yanking her away from Eliza and pulled her into her body before taking a few steps back.

Eliza was ready to tear out her throat but she saw the woman pull out a blade and hold it to the young girl's throat, making her shiver.

She told her she would give her money, she'd do whatever she asked but begged her to let the child go.

She was 5.

She was innocent.

She had nothing to do with this.

But the woman didn't see it that way...

She wanted to hurt Eliza for not doing what she said.

She wanted Eliza to hurt as much as she did when she lost her husband.

And most importantly...

She wanted to hurt Alcina Dimitrescu for saving Eliza and giving her a perfect life.

And she would do that.

She had to do that.

And she did...

By slicing the throat of the little girl.

Eliza screamed out as the blade went across her little sister's throat and her noble blood stained the ground and snow.

Eliza lunged with her claws and fangs out.

Tearing into the body of tainted flesh like a vengeful tigress.

Once she was done - she crawled over to the little girl's body and roared like a mournful dragon, causing her mother and sisters to come out.

No one blamed Eliza for not being able to save her.

No one thought it was her fault.

Eliza blamed herself.

Every time she went to the grave, she would tell her little sister's soul this...

"If I had killed her time the same day I killed her husband...you would still be with me."

[End]

Broken Truth: Thoughts, Snowwy? @snowflakestree

#resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #dimitrescu family #daniela dimitrescu #eliza dimitrescu (oc)

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 3)

platonic! yosano akiko x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff but trigger warning!! there may be a sensitive topic for others

*getting grabbed and pulled to an alleyway! alcohol mentioned!*

please remember that yokohama isn’t the friendliest place, especially at night.

previous: part 2 : their beloved president

author’s note: same ages as last time!! (so that means everyone is one year younger than canon; that makes yosano 24)

this one is actually pretty long :0

i got info abt her likes on her wiki page (careful! there’s spoilers!)

and yosano is a queen and no one can tell me otherwise

the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

going grocery shopping was an okay chore in your opinion

it honestly depended on your mood or whatever kind of shit happens when you go shopping

cause like something always, always happens whenever you go do groceries

sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes it’s just plain weird

one time some weirdo proposed to you in the middle of the store asking for a double suicide

he was good looking you’d admit but it’s not like you’d ever see him again

or so you thought

a n y w a y s

every so often, you’d run out of real person food in your apartment

you mostly survive off all of the leftover bakery treats and ingredients—which works out pretty well actually—but bakery supplies unfortunately also run out quite often

and also unfortunately, one time when both fukuzawa & ranpo took a visit to Sakura’s, fukuzawa argued that “no you can’t live off sweets for the rest of your life”

ranpo was scandalized and scrambled to cover your ears

you guys were at it for a while

in the end you sided with fukuzawa causing ranpo to go off about “betrayal from the people he cared most abt” or smth like that

you guys were okay again after bribing him with sweets :)

for bakery supplies you usually have them delivered bc you order them in large quantities bc ahaha no way were you gonna carry like 15-20 50 pound bags of flour no way

when days like those happen, you close up the bakery early so you aren’t walking home when it’s too dark

you scheduled it to happen every first saturday of the month

on those saturdays, you close at 5 instead of at 8

currently, you were at the grocery store looking for basic cooking ingredients such as proteins, vegetables, fruits, and most importantly, snacks

ranpo’s been rubbing off on you

the sun was starting to set and you were walking home with your two bags of groceries when shit went down

tbh you were kinda expecting it cause your grocery run was peaceful for once

but what you weren’t expecting was a wack-a-do to appear out of goddamn nowhere right when you were opening the side door to get to the staircase up to your apartment

like honestly

let a woman do her own thing

the man who grabbed you tried to covered your mouth so you couldn’t scream but you didn’t exactly make it easy for him

you kicked and thrashed around even using the grocery bags—that were somehow still in your hand—as a weapon and the man struggled but he was still bigger than you and was able to bring you to a nearby alley

he reeked of alcohol and you spotted a wedding band on his left hand

not that you cared about the detail in the moment

you kicked him in the groin and in response he let you go only to fall on broken glass that was in the alley way

using the wall to help yourself up, you grabbed a nearby wooden stick and struck him right on his back

your attacker fell and you immediately turned on your heels to escape only to fall back down on the hard cold ground once again

you lift your face up and look back to see the man holding onto your ankle

grabbing a shard of glass—cutting yourself in the process— you begin to swing it at him only for him to easily grip your wrist and stop you

you get ready try and kick him in the groin again but you’re interrupted as your attacker gets sucker punched and flies to wall

you look up to see your savior and you’re blessed to see a beautiful woman, probably not that much older than you are—she’s probably around ranpo’s age— donning a white long sleeve button up, a matching black necktie, knee length skirt, and gloves, along with tights, red heels, and a pretty butterfly clip in her short black hair

but what you really notice is her eyes

ranpo’s eyes were pretty but you like hers just a bit more

you’ve always liked the color magenta

the pretty lady holds out her hand and you take it graciously and thank her as she helps you up

as that’s happening, your attacker gets himself onto his feet and his groan catches both of your attention

he struggles to stand and the pretty lady simples saunters over to him and delivers an uppercut knocking him out cold

you’re stunned and you breathe out a “thank you” making her turn towards you

she notices the condition you’re in

bleeding scrapes on your hands, arms and legs, small rips in your clothes like your tights, blouse, and skirt, and the ruffled state of your hair and clothing

she asks if you live nearby and you tell her that you own the bakery that’s one or two buildings away

when you tell her that, it clicks in her mind that you must be the bakery girl ranpo’s been talking about and the friend fukuzawa was cat sitting for

it’s been abt two weeks since ranpo and fukuzawa first met you and since then, they’ve seen lucky in the office plenty and the boxes of your signature sweets even more

if those two trust you, she has no reason not to

she smiles at you, holds out her hand for you to shake, and introduces herself as the doctor of the armed detective agency

your eyes widen and you smile back at her shaking her hand

“ah! you must be yosano-sensei then! ranpo-san and fukuzawa-san have talked about you! it’s so nice to meet you! im (l/n) (y/n)!”

“they’ve talked about you too, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you (y/n)”

after that exchange she insisted on bringing you home to treat you wounds which you told her it wasn’t necessary

she gave you a pointed look and that was when you realized what state you were in

you sighed and weakly gave in to which she only grinned at

before leaving the alley she walks over to the unconscious man and pulls out his wallet for some sort of identification and home address as you try to see if there’s any groceries still salvageable

after texting the details to kunikida, yosano turns to you poking around the now ruined grocery bags

she simply rubs your back and tells you that the both of you could go buy more groceries together as she was meaning to get some anyways; she even said she’ll pay for you

you refused obviously but she, unknowingly, used the same tactic fukuzawa used with you

“so you’re saying you don’t need groceries?”

“...”

*cue an eyebrow raise from our resident queen*

“...you agency members don’t like making things easy for me huh.”

you gave in reluctantly and at this point you don’t even know why you try negotiating with them

and that’s only three of them

apparently, she was on the other side of the street on the way to buy groceries for the agency when she noticed different produce items on the other sidewalk leading to the alley and she went to check out what happened

ironically, the way to the grocery store from the agency makes you go past Sakura’s but she didn’t realize it until after the two of you had met

before you know it, the two of you are in your apartment kitchen as she cleans and patches up all of your wounds

as she does so the two of you have a little girl talk

you find it quite comforting bc since you opened up Sakura’s you haven’t really had the chance to connect to many people much less other women

you definitely see yosano as your cool, loving, badass older sister

she thinks you’re adorable and agrees with ranpo’s opinion

yup

that’s right

the opinion that you’re like a little kid </3

you called it a betrayal and all she did was laugh at you <//3

“awhh that’s really cool yosano-sensei!—MFPH?!?”

*squishing your cheeks the same way ranpo did* “ranpo-san was right (n/n)-chan, your cheeks are squishy!”

“?!”

after that small fiasco, the two of you talked some more and bonded over your love for flowers, japanese sweets, and much more!!

you even made a date to have a girls day to go shopping and eat out!

you’re internally squealing a bit bc it’s been a while since you’ve gone shopping

yosano notices and she giggles behind her hand not saying anything bc she knows you’ll only throw a fit

the two of you came around the topic of ranpo when lucky passed by

lucky quickly warmed up to the doctor and cozied up in her lap

“i wish ranpo-san was able to meet lucky when he came by the first time, but then again, he’d probably throw a tantrum if i don’t pay attention to him for 5 seconds”

she snorted at that and like fukuzawa, she shared stories abt the slightly older male

“ranpo-san doesn’t know how to ride a train?”

“unbelievable right?”

“for someone so intelligent i expected more from him”

“i’ll be telling that to ranpo-san, (n/n)-chan”

“wha—?! yosano-sensei please don’t!”

like ranpo, she’s also a tease </3

but you love her anyway <3

eventually, she finished patching you up and promised to treat you to a new set of clothes when the two of you go out

“you don’t need to lose a good set of clothes just because of a sleazy man (n/n)-chan! you deserve better!”

you were going to argue that the rips in your clothes were fairly small and could easily be fixed—except the tights—but you stopped in your tracks when you remembered that it was practically useless to argue against an ada member

the two of you walked to the grocery store and bought both of your needed supplies—along with some extra goodies—and then she walked you back to your place bc it was already a bit dark out

but even if it wasn’t, she would walk you anyways

besides, if anything happened to you, she’s 1000% positive that ranpo and fukuzawa are gonna flip the fuck out not that she wont cause she most definitely will

speaking of which

you were drinking a bottle of water as the two of made your way back to Sakura’s when all of a sudden

“(y/n) you do realize that i have to tell shachou and ranpo-san about what happened today right?”

you choked on your water

“yosano-sensei you can’t! if you do they’ll freak! they won’t leave me alone for at least two weeks! one if im lucky!”

“exactly the point”

you just accepted your defeat already knowing that you’d lose

but maybe you can simmer down their anger towards the bastard with sweets and lucky

you arrived at Sakura’s shortly after and after bringing groceries in, you packaged a bunch of pastries leftover from today—bc you closed early—and bc you’re well aware that ranpo doesn’t share any of the sweets you send him with

you even gave yosano her own special box filled with goodies she loves, and a thermos of fukuzawa’s favorite, your special hot honey lemon tea

other than the sweets, you prepared lucky to spend the night at fukuzawa’s

you really really hoped that doing these things would make them calm down

you shivered at the thought of what their responses would be

you felt really bad for giving yosano all these things to carry and that you were keeping her very late

she assured you that she was fine and that if someone tried to mess with her she’d kick their ass

and after exchanging numbers, the magenta eyed queen bid you a good night and walked back to the agency with lucky walking by her heels

arriving back at the agency, yosano was greeted with some concerns asking if she was alright bc she came back from her grocery run pretty late

(she usually goes in the mornings but today was pretty busy so she left in the late afternoon but now it was already dark)

she waved off the concerns and plopped a couple boxes of your signature bakery boxes at ranpo’s desk, the one for her at her own, the last few boxes in the kitchen for any other agent or clerk to grab, placed the thermos on the desk fukuzawa was by, and picked up lucky and handed him to the president

the two males were pleased with what yosano had brought them, and pleased that another agency member had the chance to meet you

fukuzawa was rubbing lucky and ranpo already snacking on treats as yosano expected

but here comes the hard part

or maybe it’s gonna amusing who knows

“i met (y/n) today.”

“we could tell.”

in goes another treat in the green eyed man’s mouth

“would you like to know how?”

“you bumped into each other, had girl talk, made plans to go out, went grocery shopping, and you brought me and shachou presents.”

“great job ranpo-san, you’re almost completely correct.”

this caught the attention of basically everyone bc they knew ranpo was never “almost completely correct”

“we ended up meeting bc she got attacked on her way home from grocery shopping, i treated her wounds, then we had girl talk and did all the other stuff”

ranpo and fukuzawa froze right in their tracks

“i sent all the info of the bastard to kunikida”

“kunikida.”

“yes shachou”

“find out everything about that man and bring it to me and ranpo”

“...yes shachou”

“and yosano”

“yes?”

“text (y/n) and tell her that her cat, tea, and pastries aren’t going to work as a bribe”

just as you finished taking a shower you sneezed

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