#but like. would the police extend that grace. i do not think so

[appsa]

BTW its so crazy that jonathan byers didnt get implicated for barbara hollands murder in season 1...... he was literally the last person to see her + he was being shady as hell

#like... EYE get why he did that..... nancy grew up knowing him so maybe she might be forgiving (tho she def didnt need to be)....... #but like. would the police extend that grace. i do not think so #rip its a plot device and an interesting character moment they didnt think too hard abt but like. hello guys. that looks so bad #ig it helps that the govt immediately covered up the disappearance but like #tbh actually nancy should have been much more suspicious of him at least #SORRY im still talking abt stranger things but i find it odd. strange even

[glitterforashes]

Maybe date hcs for sal??? If you're fine and well?? I love that pretty boy too much ^^

𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 (𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞)? ; 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐜’𝐬!

>>> OKAY YA’LL HERE WE GO! so sorry it took me ages to get to this! wonderful ask from macncheese here, thank u for requesting! hope you enjoy!! <3 (SORRY I POSTED IT BEFORE IT WAS DONE IGNORE THAT. THIS IS FINISHED)

𝐒𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 —

is literally a nervous wreck leading up to asking you out

“dude, calm down.” “I CAN’T CALM DOWN SHE’S SO BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT.”

has to give himself multiple pep talks in the mirror (they don’t work)

practices asking you out on ash (that doesn’t work either and she makes fun of him)

comes over to your apartment to play video games, is sweating and twitching like he’s cracked out

“sally? you okay?” “go out with me.”

“..please.”

the laughter that erupts from your mouth makes him want to curl up and die

you agree to go out with him obviously

you set a date for friday after school at 8

he picks you up from your apartment, wearing his only nice pair of jeans and a band tshirt

“uh hi.”

“hi baby:)”

he hands you a flower from the flower bush outside of the school almost mechanically and you immediately put it in your hair

you two walk together to the little pizza spot across from the apartments

you hold his hand and he almost explodes

he pays for u!!

ya’ll sit and eat and talk and laugh so obnoxiously everyone else in the room thinks you’re psycho

an old woman stares too long at sally so you flinch at her and she nearly has a heart attack

sally stares at you with so much adoration you think his only good eye is gonna turn into a cartoon heart and launch at you

you stay the night at his apartment after!!

• gizmo snuggles up between you two and you spend the latest hours of the night talking and twiddling fingers with each other

at eight pm sharp, there’s a knock at your door. you smile as you go to open it, revealing sally. even though he was dressed plainly, it bout made you foam at the mouth. “uh, hi.” he said. you smiled, heavily amused by how nervous he was. “hi baby.” he very very mechanically pulled a hibiscus flower from behind his back and extended it to you, standing still as a scarecrow. “aww, sal! thank you!” you took it and placed it behind your ear, smiling from ear to ear. he was so freaking cute you had to will your entire body not to just kiss him all over.

he was stiff and nervous and looked kinda scary, so you took his hand and shut the door behind you, starting to walk down to the elevator. “thanks for inviting me out sally.” you say. he cleared his throat abruptly, like your thanks shocked him, before mumbling “yeah you’re welcome.”

it was cute how he was so nervous— especially since you two had done way worse things together than just going to get pizza. you had been interrogated by police, chased by travis and his little boyfriends, given detention together, and a whole bunch of other things that were universally worse than getting food.

“you know you don’t have to be scared, right? loosen up!” you teased, bumping your hip to his as you two stepped into the elevator. “oh. right. sorry.” you laughed, and he chuckled softly, shaking his shoulders a bit. the walk was less awkward from there,, you continued holding his hand and making idle chatter, just yapping about whatever graced your mind. he made a point to walk a bit ahead of you and open the parlor door, gesturing dramatically like some sort of medieval prince. “after you, m’lady.” he said, and you laughed, doing a curtsy with your imaginary skirts as you walked into the building.

you two went to the counter together, but you ordered for the both of you because sally didn’t want to talk to the cashier. you got a full pepperoni pizza and a side of the crinkle cut fries you two would always request when you were high. you waited off to the side until you got your food,, which you took over to a booth in the back closest to the door. you two ate mostly in silence, too hungry to try to talk between bites. as of late neither of you had been eating the cafeteria food, so this was a saving grace to your stomachs.

in the post-food coma you two experienced, you threatened to stick a fry up sally’s nose and he nearly spat his drink all over the table, which made you laugh so loudly you nearly got embarrassed. you wiped up the mess yall made as sal packed your leftovers into a little box, shaking his head and chuckling to himself the whole time.

you carried the box of fries and he carried the pizza box, but you two still managed to awkwardly hold hands the whole way home. you shuffled into the tiny elevator and watched for a moment as it climbed the levels. you peeked over to sally to see him already side eyeing you and you both erupted into laughter, filling the elevator with the sounds of amusement.

when you got to sally’s apartment you two placed the leftovers on the little rickety kitchen table and immediately retreated to his bedroom, saying hi to his dad and beckoning gizmo to follow on the way in. you took off your uncomfortable pants and tossed them in a corner, and sal stripped down to his boxers. of course, this wasn’t uncommon. you had both established long ago that sleeping unrestricted was the best way to sleep.

you two plopped down on his bed side by side and gizmo shuffled his way in soon after, laying on your right arm and half on sally’s torso. you two spent some time just petting and praising gizmo, talking about how cute he was and sal telling you the story of how they got him.

around midnight you threw a pillow at the wall to flip the light switch off, and you two rolled over to face each other. your hand found his naturally and he began rubbing small circles on your palm with his thumb. “thank you for taking me out.” you whispered, nudging ever so slightly closer. “you’re welcome.” he said, shifting closer to you. you two migrated closer and closer until your forehead was touching the forehead of his mask. your breaths merged into one as you inhaled and exhaled in sync, just enjoying each others presence. gizmo purred like a motorboat, having moved to lay on y’all’s intertwined legs.

“i think i love you, sally.”

you said, but he was already asleep. you smiled and shook your head, snuggling your face into his as you closed your eyes. “goodnight then.”

“i think i love you too, (y/n).”

#sally fisher xreader #fanfiction #x reader #fluff #date headcannons #hcs #sally face #romance #cutie pie #fanfic #indie games #sally face x reader

[yonemurishiroku]

I’m going to be honest I think some nico fans are a little to hard on fanfic writer’s people are writing for free and I see it all the time the notes when y’all attack shippers solangelo do this pernico do that people are writing for free and it keeps fandom alive driving people away cause one don’t like a ship is shitty just don’t read the story it free heck I’m in an anime community and if you know anime fans it gets nasty but even they try to not attack writers everyone is agreement not to attack artist drawing but why not extend the same grace to writers

It feels kinda breathless reading this but yeah I get your point and I wholeheartedly agree.

Even before engaging with the PJO fandom, I've been made aware of how nasty a English/Western-based (yeah I made that word up) fandom can get, so I'm mostly prepared to witness some... incidents (?). It's hardly a surprise at this point lmao.

There's always a line to follow. And someone behind you that would yell "Hey! That's mischaracterization!" whenever you're brave enough to escape the prison. This fandom treats unconventionality as if it was a crime, which reduces a lot of the fun. Shame.

I reckon it happens to every character's fandom, not only Nico - like, there should be a line when the community crosses a certain number, their quality decreases as much as it grows bigger. 😂😂😂 And yeah by that same logic, the Nico fandom would be one of the harshest bc the nature of his popularity.

I'm aware of the anime community. Though, if I read it right, anime originates from Japan, and Japan is without a doubt the laxxest when it comes to borderless creativity, so yeah, in a way, it's still better than a fandom brainwashed by the Western purity culture.

By the way, I don't think artists are any better in... whatever this is. if one is hateful towards something, they will attack the creator regardless of whether they're a fanfic writer or fanartist. Perhaps, the artists would have better chances of gaining a certain amount of supporters, who would defend them should need be, but again, that also means they have more risk of encountering nasty viewers as well.

All in all, things are not the brightest (since when they are anw) - that's why I'm here! 🥰🥰 To help destroy it faster, really.

Jk (or maybe not). I am proud to serve as a secure haven for those with unconventional creative sparks, even if it means challenging societal norms - for nothing other than to spite the shipping police, really. I make a point of trying to encourage every type of creativity, moreso to fanfiction just bc I'm mostly engaging it with - not bc my support is limited lol. It's nothing much, but I'll take the fact that you feel safe enough to send me an ask about this issue that I'm doing at least a good job of being the patron lolol.

#pjo fandom #nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #toa #yone rambling #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo

[hbyrde36]

Chapter 7!

ao3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter

CW character death, canon typical violence

Steve returned to the center at 8:55pm. He was once again forced to enter the building unarmed, due to their security. You would think being attacked at a place in broad daylight would exclude a guy from those types of measures, but apparently not. Granted, Steve had taken the attacker out with his bare hands. Maybe the powers-that-be assumed he could do it again if necessary, or maybe they were the kind of people who didn’t expect two bad things to happen in only one day. Oh to be so blessed.

Thankfully, there was a different receptionist on duty at the desk this evening, so he wouldn’t have to deal with Andy asking after Robin because he’d forced her to stay home. It was a young girl. She looked nervous as Steve approached and he couldn’t blame her. Surely she’d have heard what happened there earlier in the day. Honestly he was surprised the place hadn’t canceled its programming for the night.

“The order welcomes you.” She said, with a tight-lipped smile. “How can I help you today?” 

“I’m here to see Jason Carver.”

She nodded, checking something on her monitor.

“Right this way Mr. Harrington.”

She waved him through a side door that led to a set of offices, the largest of which bore a placard that read, Order Leader Jason Carver.

Steve pushed the door open, revealing a young man with blonde hair sitting behind a modest oak desk. Carver may have appeared to be the same age as Steve, but he knew for a fact that the vampire before him was quite a bit older than he looked. His boyish face screamed innocence, it was the perfect camouflage for a blood sucking predator. Steve suspected it was also what allowed him to amass a following of this size without being officially accused of starting a cult. 

“Harrington.” Jason greeted him with a curt nod.

“Carver.” Steve replied, holding the other man’s gaze for a long moment before taking the seat across from him. 

Jason quirked his head to the side like a curious dog. “I have to say, waking up to find your name in my appointments was quite the surprise. I didn’t think you’d ever grace us with your presence without the police being involved.”

“I may not be here on official business today, but that doesn’t mean this is a social call.” Steve snapped. Unable to keep his disdain for the man out of his voice.

“Why are you always so hostile towards me, Steve? What have I, or my people, ever done to deserve that?” Carver asked, frowning. He looked for all the world as if his feelings had actually been hurt. 

Steve raised an eyebrow. He didn’t buy the act, and could think of many things that creatures like Jason Carver and his followers had done to earn his bad opinion of them. His body was littered with scars, real physical evidence of the harm vampires could cause. Of course, lately, because of Dustin, Steve had begun to accept the fact that maybe not all of them were inherently bad. The jury was still out on Eddie, as far as he was concerned, but the dark haired vampire had helped Steve as much as he was able, and that counted for something. However, he wasn’t ready to extend those new feelings of good will towards a prick like this.

When Steve remained quiet, Carver continued. “I can understand, because of your line of work, why you would be predisposed not to trust my kind, but I can assure you none of my people attack humans or feed from them without consent. Not once they join the order. That is not our way.”

“How can you be sure of that? What happens to a member if they do break the rules? Are they punished? Kicked out? Do you report them to the police?” Steve asked, genuinely curious. The order was very popular and their membership grew larger every day. As the leader, and a master vampire, that meant Jason was in charge of them all. How was he maintaining control?

“I am not here to mete out punishment or treat my followers like children. That’s the problem with the old ways. There is no free will or middle ground when it comes to vampires. If you’re not on the top, you're on the bottom, and at the mercy of whatever your master wishes. I am trying to do something different here. So no, I don’t torture or threaten my people into following the rules. Every vampire or pre-transition human, upon joining the order, signs a moral contract. It is a binding promise between them, and whatever higher power they believe in, to cause no harm, and to only feed in a manner that respects the gift that is being given, among other things.”

Steve snorted. “Right, because no one has ever broken a contract before, or, y'know, lied.”

“That is how free will works, Harrington.”

It was almost admirable, Steve thought begrudgingly. It was a nice idea, in theory, what Jason was trying to accomplish, but It was also completely unrealistic. Steve might be willing to accept that there were a few good vampires out there, but he still believed that the majority of them were decidedly not good, and needed someone to hold their leash. 

“So you can’t actually assure me that none of your people have ever stepped out of line. You wouldn’t know, per se, if any of them had something to do with the vampire murders?"

“Ah, so the reason for this little visit becomes clear at last.” Jason actually had the nerve to laugh. “What would make you think my people had anything to do with that? We are non-violent. That doesn’t exactly go hand-in-hand with murder.”

“Non-violent. Right. Does that mean you have no idea that your followers carried out a protest that looked more like a riot at a freak party last night? Guns were fired, Carver. People were hurt.”

Jason’s face twisted in disgust. “The order takes quite an issue with the freak community, and the way they sexualize what we are, and what we consume to survive. It’s sickening. Depraved.”

Steve felt a flash of shame, realizing that not long ago he would have agreed with this man. Now he scowled, thinking of Chrissy and of the others who had been so nice to him at the party. They didn’t deserve that kind of judgment and hatred.

Carver kept going, unaware of Steve’s inner turmoil. “There is a small faction of my followers that have grown tired of waiting for the courts to rule those types of get togethers illegal, and have taken matters into their own hands. While I may agree with them, I do not condone their actions. I’ll see what I can do to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” 

It wasn’t anywhere near good enough, but Steve would take it over nothing. “And the murders?” He prompted. 

Jason leveled him with a challenging stare, which he returned, only flinching when the other man moved to grab his wrist where it rested on the desk between them. The action was a blur, so fast that Steve’s mind barely knew what was happening, yet still he managed to get out of reach in time. 

“What are you doing?” Steve accused.

“Testing a theory.” Carver said, casually. “Do you even realize that you’ve been looking me in the eyes this whole time?”

Steve hadn’t realized that actually, and it was a dumb move on his part for a lot of reasons. Namely, that he couldn’t afford getting used to this new level of ability when he planned to do whatever he could to get rid of this thing with Eddie as soon as possible.

“I have some natural immunity, and it's not as if you are trying to bespell me.” Steve deflected.

The vampire narrowed his eyes. “Yet you’ve never trusted that fact before. What’s different now?”

Steve kept his mouth shut. He felt like this was a test. Like Carver already knew something and was just waiting for him to give it away.

“Not to mention the fact that you came here to accuse, or at least heavily imply that me and my people are murderers. Seems like an odd time to relax your stance on eye contact.” Jason considered, studying Steve’s face. “Who do you belong to?” he asked, finally.

“Myself.” Steve declared. The answer came naturally and without hesitation. 

“If you truly believe that, you are living in serious denial. I would say you’ve been given at least the first mark. I can’t deny being curious about who could have convinced a vampire hunter to tie themselves to one of us.”

Steve blinked, again unsure of how to respond. Apparently his face had done it for him.

“Oh. You didn’t agree to this, did you?”

“It’s complicated.” Steve said, defensively. 

Jason gave him a knowing smile. “I’m sure she’s very pretty, but if you find yourself in need of assistance with the situation, the order would be happy to help”

He would never be desperate enough to take Carver up on that offer, and honestly, Steve couldn’t help pushing. He resented the assumption, and just had to know if the poster boy for vampire purity was also a homophobe.

“While he is very pretty, this was done to save my life, and I have the situation handled. Thanks for the concern.”

Jason frowned again. “Attending freak parties and bonding yourself with a male vampire, I wonder what your father thinks of all this. He must be terribly concerned about you.”

It wasn’t quite the gotcha move Jason thought it was. He wasn’t surprised to find out Carver was acquainted with his father, and Steve already knew he was the family disappointment. This would change nothing even if it did get back to his dad. Still, he’d reached his limit of bullshit for the evening. 

“Enough of this, Carver. I didn’t come here to talk about my private life. Multiple master level vampires have been murdered in this city, all of them belonging to Billy. Not a single victim has been from your organization. You can't say that isn’t suspicious.”

“How do you know the perpetrator isn’t human? You yourself have killed, how many vampires now?” 

Steve shook his head. “I’ve seen the bodies, no human has that kind of strength.”

“I would know if one of my people had done such a thing.” Carver stated, sounding so sure of himself.

“Maybe you do and you’re trying to protect them.” Steve speculated. “Or maybe you yourself gave the order. I haven't learned much here tonight, but I bet if I took that little theory to Hopper, he’d be more than happy to shut you down for a while and give things a thorough investigation.”

Steve didn’t really think Carver had the balls for something like this, but he did think it was more than possible that someone connected to his organization was involved. 

Carver stiffened. “No need for threats, I will talk to my people.”

“What good would that do?”

“I have.. ways to know if they are being truthful. I promise to pass along any pertinent information to you, as long as you don’t send the police to my door.”

Steve nodded, and rose to leave, knowing that was the best he would get tonight. Before opening the office door he turned back to Carver. “You should know, I was attacked today in your lobby. Someone doesn’t want me to solve this case, and they knew I was here.” 

-

It wasn't until Steve was walking back down the hall that he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He scrambled for it but didn’t manage to pick up in time. The screen told him it was the 3rd missed call from Dustin in the last few minutes. Shit.

He quickly hit the call back button and raced out of the building towards his car. Dustin answered on the first ring. 

“Steve? Steve! You gotta get over here quick. Billy has Chrissy. It’s…it’s bad.” He sobbed, dropping his voice to a whisper as he continued. “They hurt her.”

“Where are you?” Steve asked, frantic.

The only reply he got were the sounds of a struggle on the other end of the call. He screamed into the phone, “Dustin! .. Dustin!”

After a long stretch of silence he was greeted with the sound of deep male laughter.

“Oh, Stevie-boy.” Billy crooned. “Maybe if you’d spent more time investigating the murders, like I asked you to do, and less time helping my people betray me, it wouldn’t have come to this. But, here we are! Come to the coffin, if you dare, and see what I've done to your pretty little bitch.”

“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” Steve growled into the phone, but it was no use. Billy had already hung up.

-

Steve double parked in front of the theater, not willing to waste even one second looking for a parking spot. They could tow him for all he cared, none of it mattered right then. He left the gun where it was, locked in the car. It would take too long to retrieve and he doubted they would let him keep it anyway. He did take half a second to shove a knife down the side of each of his boots before walking to the front door of the venue, though.

There was a show going on that night and the place was crawling with civilians, humans. A girl approached him at the entrance, she wore a name tag that said her name was Heather. It took him a moment to recognize her as the brunette who had been hanging all over Billy at their first meeting. Had that really only been a few days ago? So much had happened in such a short time, Steve thought it felt more like weeks. 

She led him through the crowd and into a backstage area. He knew, sort of, where he was going from here. He wanted to blow past her, start screaming Chrissy's name and find her before it was too late, but he still didn’t know what this girl was, and if he’d be able to take her easily or not. It wouldn’t do Chrissy any good if he was hurt or killed before he could reach her. For that reason alone he just barely managed to keep his composure. 

When they reached the under stage area and turned, Steve had a feeling he knew exactly  where they were headed. He was proven right when they reached the door to the same basement room he’d been kept in. 

The door opened and Steve sucked in a sharp breath.  

Chrissy was bound to the far wall opposite the wooden steps. He couldn’t tell if she was dead or just unconscious, but she sagged in her chains, eyes closed. She was covered in blood and over half a dozen fresh bites. Billy and Neil stood on either side of her, red smeared around both of their mouths and dripping onto their bare chests. He ran down the steps and tried to rush to her side but Billy stepped in his path.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You only have yourself to blame for this one Stevie-boy.”Billy said, smirking as he licked his lips clean.

“All I’ve done is what you asked me to do!” Steve shouted directly in his face.

Billy grinned. “So bold in the face of me and my father, even as we have your girlfriend chained to the wall like a fucking animal. Does Eddie truly inspire this much bravery?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why are you doing this. What are you talking about.” Neil mimicked him, laughing. “Have you always been so pathetic? I cannot fathom why my kind are afraid of you, Harrington.”

Steve wasn’t aware that he was well known enough among the vampires to be feared. It would be an interesting idea to think on if he weren’t far too busy worrying about his friend at the moment. 

“I’m not an idiot. I figured out your play, and let’s just say I'm not impressed.” Billy said.

“I still don’t understand.” 

“Let’s go discuss things in a more..comfortable environment.” 

“I’m not leaving this room until you let me see her.” Steve hissed through clenched teeth.

Billy sighed. “God, you're so tedious. Knock yourself out. We’ll be waiting outside.”

Steve didn’t wait for the three of them to leave before going to Chrissy. He cradled her face gently, using two fingers to check the pulse in her neck. It was strong and steady. She was still alive, for now, and if he had anything to say about it, she would remain that way. 

He smoothed the hair off of her forehead, trying to gently rouse her. “Chrissy?”

Her eyes blinked open, they swam with fear, then confusion, before finally settling on recognition.

“Steve.” She said, voice hoarse.

“I’m so sorry.” He sobbed, letting a few tears fall from his eyes. She looks so small and hopeless. He couldn’t stand it.

“It’s not your fault.”

It certainly felt like it was, after what Billy had said.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” Steve promised, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

Tears fell down her cheeks and Steve swiped them away. She gave him a watery smile “Sure Steve.”

“Times up” Heather called loudly from behind him. Steve hadn't realized she was still in the room, and apparently waiting for him at the top of the stairs. 

He didn't know what else he could say, and making Billy wait even longer wasn’t going to earn him any favors. So, with one last look back at Chrissy, he made his way up the stairs and out into the hall. Heather once again led the way, ushering him into another room.

Steve immediately rounded on Billy where he sat in a high-backed chair. “What do you want from me?”

“Eddie Munson should be growing weak, rotting inside his coffin. Care to tell me how it is that he is still strong and healthy?”

“How should I know? Why are you hurting Chrissy?” Steve asked, puzzled.

“She needed to learn her place, as did your little friend Dustin. Don’t worry, I have him trapped in his coffin for now but I'll let him out eventually. I took her partially to punish you, and maybe add some extra incentive for you to pick up the pace in your investigation.”

“Why punish me?”

Billy truly looked him over then. “Do you really not know?” He hummed, considering. “Heather, baby, come here for a second.”

The girl complied quickly, coming over to sit on his lap. Like that was a normal thing to do mid interrogation.

Billy placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed hard enough to hurt, but she just smiled as he asked, “What do you think, does he really not know?”

She giggled, the high bright noise sounding out of place in the moment. “Yea. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying. Maybe he’s just not too bright.” 

“Well, I'll be damned.” Billy said, leaning back in the chair and shoving her unceremoniously off of his lap. “I didn’t think Eddie had it in him to do something this devious. Two marks on a human who doesn’t even know what it means? That’s low.”

It wasn’t shocking to hear, Steve had suspected it, he just didn’t quite understand what it all meant and why Billy was so pissed off about the whole thing. 

“Heather here is my human servant, has been for.. How long would you say?” He asked, directing another question at her. 

“90 years give or take.” 

Steve’s heart started to race at the implications. “But you look 20, you're not a vampire..”

Billy smiled, basking in Steve’s sudden panic. “I’ve given her all 4 marks, she’s still technically human, but she’ll live as long as I do.”

“No, Eddie wouldn’t…” 

“He must have been very desperate, there's no way to reverse the process once it’s started. The second mark allows him to feed energy off of you to sustain himself, you’ve been helping him all this time.”

Steve didn’t want to believe it. He hadn’t admitted it to himself before now, but deep down he had hoped that Eddie would turn out to be a good guy. Good guys did not force an irreversible bond on you, no matter the reason. He couldn’t worry about that now, he had to find some way to salvage this, to save Chrissy.

“But I didn’t know I was doing it, how can you blame me for that?” Steve reasoned.

Billy ignored the question. “Eddie has supporters among my people. Those who'd rather see him in power over me. I could kill him outright, but that would make him a martyr. If however, I kill someone he has given his protection to, it might go a long way in showing that he is not worth their loyalty.”

Steve knew what that meant for Chrissy, and it made his blood run cold.

“No!” He shouted, pleading with Billy. “You don’t have to do this!”

“I would think this was a lesson you’d have learned by now, Harrington. You can’t save everyone. Sometimes, you can’t save anyone but yourself.” With that, Billy gave a nod to Neil, who disappeared from the room in the blink of an eye.  

Steve ran after him, Billy didn’t even try to stop him. Both of them knew Steve would never make it in time, but he had to try. 

Steve skidded to a stop at the open doorway, staring down. Neil stood there, eyes glittering and covered in even more blood than before. Behind him, Chrissy’s head sat at an odd angle and he knew she was already gone. The bastard had torn into her throat with his fangs and broken her neck for good measure. 

Steve screamed wordlessly as he ran down the stairs. When he reached the bottom he bent down, pulling the knife from his right boot without missing a step, as he barreled towards the piece of shit that had just killed his friend.  

He wasn't fast enough, and Neil spun out of the way before he could sink the blade into his body. As Steve readied himself for another go at the man, Billy arrived..

“I can’t let you kill him for this, Steve.” Billy said, as he descended into the room. He sounded almost apologetic about it. “If you want to avoid a similar fate I suggest you start learning who your real master is.”

“Fuck you.” Steve snarled.

Billy was suddenly in front of him, having crossed the room too quickly to see. He held Steve off the ground and up against the wall by the throat. “One way or another you will learn respect.”

Steve tried to raise the arm holding the knife, but found himself unable to move, frozen in place. He had no chance now that Billy was touching him. He did the only thing he could manage, and spit right in his face. 

Billy growled, face contorting with anger as he released his throat. Steve stumbled as his feet hit the ground, but still he raised the knife, knowing he only had a fraction of a second to do any damage before Billy would be back on him. He shoved upward with the blade and it sank home in the vampire's lower stomach. It was nowhere near his heart, and  wouldn’t accomplish much more than pissing him off further, but Steve felt a sick sense of satisfaction in knowing he had made the other man bleed. 

Steve was shoved back with a shoulder, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Billy twisted Steve's head to the side, and for a moment he thought he was about to die the same way Chrissy had, but the vampire had other plans. 

Steve realized what was coming only a second before he felt the sting of sharp teeth in his neck, and he could do nothing but fade into the quiet dark that washed over him as Billy fed.

Chapter 8

#steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #vampire eddie munson #vampire hunter steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #ao3 link

[tinkertoysdamn]

Ficlet: “There’s No Time to Explain”

This is a concept for a scene that I would love to appear in the new Blue Beetle movie.  Which means this won’t happen.  Written way too quickly.

Summary:   Jaime gets some help from an unexpected place. 

Jaime Reyes, seventeen and terrified, sat on the edge of the roof.  The scarab armor had pulled back from his face, letting him breathe in unfiltered air.  It didn’t help, the pricks of panic were already starting to set in and he couldn’t see a way out.  His family was going to die and he was helpless.

“They have my parents,” he muttered to himself.  “Kord has my parents and I can’t stop her.  I can’t get in, I can’t–”

The air next to him started to glow, a brilliant yellow and white.  Tendrils of power extended from what appeared to be a small hole.  It grew bigger and bigger, in seconds becoming large enough for a man.  

Out of the vortex stepped a man approaching forty, his hair brown and his eyes kind.  It was a face that had graced the covers of industry trades for years.  A face that Jaime had come to recognize after receiving the scarab, one that was burned into his brain.  Jaime knew him instantly.  “Ted Kord?”  He shifted from panic to hysterics.  “But you’re dead?!”

Ted’s face screwed up as he tried to figure out an explanation.  “Yes but no?”  He shrugged.  “For this timeline we’ll say yes?”

Jaime blinked at him.  “What do you mean, this timeline?”

Ted turned it back around on Jaime.  “What do you know about time travel?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Jaime confessed.

“Great, then I’m not explaining anything.”  Ted plopped down next to him on the rooftop.  “Khaji bug-thing, give me a keypad so I can shoot you those codes.”

The scarab obeyed instantly, producing a small keyboard complete with wire right in Ted’s reach.  Jaime blinked, Khaji barely ever listened to him, what was it doing?  “Um, what’s going on?”

“You need access to the lab right?” Ted said, typing away.  “The one Vickie’s got your parents in?”   

Jaime’s head was going to explode.  “You know about that?”

“Yeah, sorry I couldn’t help you out sooner.  Booster only told me about you a little while ago,” Ted sounded annoyed.  “And there’s Time Cop rules about interference blah, blah, blah.”  

“But you’re here now,” Jaime said.  “Why?”

Ted paused and sucked in a breath.  The internal debate was brief.  His eyes locked with Jaime’s.  “Because every superhero doesn’t need to be an orphan.”

The implication set in, threatening to send Jaime into a tailspin.  Ted grabbed onto his shoulders.

“That’s why I’m giving you these access codes,” Ted told him.  “Vickie doesn’t know about them, so she can’t shut you out.  This will give you the best chance to save your parents”  He turned back to the keyboard.

“Please,” Jaime pleaded.  “Can you come with me?”

“I wish I could.”  It was not without regret.  “I may be surrounded by malleable time,” Ted said, “but I don’t think actions that direct are something the Time Police can overlook.”  He let go of the keyboard.  “Done, you should have complete access to any Kord facility anywhere in the world.”

Khaji confirmed with Jaime, in his own subliminal way, that he had been updated.  This was surreal.  “Um, I don’t know what to say.”

Ted grinned at him.  “‘Thank you, Ted.  Yes I will kick your sister’s ass for you.’”

“You really don’t mind that I’m going to be fighting your sister?” Jaime asked.  His own family was close so this was bizarre.

“She shot me in the head,” Ted said, “no love lost.”  

That nearly sent Jaime reeling again.  “Wait, what?”

“Clock’s ticking,” Ted said, getting to his feet.  “I can’t be around as much as I’d like, but if you really need me, I’ll make the time.”

This was all so confusing but Jaime forced himself to focus.  “Thank you,” he said.  Then he thought he should say something profound.  What came out was: “Your legacy will be safe with me.”

The smile on Ted’s face softened.  “Don’t worry about my legacy, kid.  I want you to make your own.”  He gave the kid a two-finger jaunty salute before stepping back through the portal.  “Good luck.  And may the Force be–”  

The time vortex shut down.  

There were still so many questions that Jaime wanted answered but he knew they had to wait.  He had family and they were in danger.  “Let’s go, Khaji!”  His face plate reformed as wings sprouting from his back. 

He launched himself into the sky and Jaime willed himself to fly faster than he had ever flown before.  “I’m coming,” Jaime thought.  “I’m coming.” 

#blue beetle #jaime reyes #ted kord #I'll take things that will never happen for $500

[whimsicalworldofme]

Saving Grace: Chapter Forty-One

A bombing in Vienna gives Steve his best lead yet on Bucky and brings Grace to the brink of an emotional breakdown.

(A/N: Heyooo we're well into Civil War here. It's gonna hurt for a little while. I'm so very sorry (kind of...not entirely). Stick with Grace though, I promise everything's gonna work out in the end.)

The news coverage looped over the same footage yet again, showing the wreckage of the building in Vienna where several political figures had gathered to publicly sign the Sokovia Accords the day before. Grace sat on the end of the bed in the hotel room as Steve bustled around, bouncing between packing his things up, taking calls, sending texts, and pausing now and then to watch the news.

“Among those confirmed dead is King T’Chaka of Wakanda,” the news reporter stated, the first new update in the hour. “As of right now, we still do not have an identity on the suspected bomber, but we do have security footage.”

The freeze frame image of Bucky came up on the screen again, making Grace’s stomach knot.

“If you see this man do not approach him but contact your local police immediately.”

“Do you think HYDRA got hold of him again?” Grace asked, turning to see Steve texting, likely coordinating Sam.

“I don’t know,” Steve strode over to the closet and retrieved his shield, setting it down on the bed beside her before kneeling down to go through his suitcase again. “He wouldn’t just blow up a bunch of political figures on his own for no reason. If he even did it at all. Have you seen my passport?”

“Front pocket,” she popped up when someone knocked on the door, leaving Steve to finish his preparations.

When she looked out the peephole, her mood soured even further, something she hadn’t thought possible.  Opening the door, she stared down Sharon on the other side, tapping a file folder in hand as she waited. Steve had warned her she was coming, that she had gotten him information on Bucky’s whereabouts. That didn’t mean Grace had to be ok with it. Or let the woman inside their hotel room. She made a point to stand fully in the doorway, that way it was obvious Sharon wasn’t welcome to come in.

“Yes?” Grace tried to keep her tone civil, but the rage she felt over the other woman trying to kiss her fiancé bubbled up again.

“Is Steve here?” Sharon asked. “He requested information.”

“I will give it to him,” Grace held a hand out for the file, refusing to move out of the way. Luckily Steve was engrossed in something else. Sharon reluctantly passed the file over. “Is there anything else pertinent to the situation?” She asked curtly, tipping her chin upwards slightly. Sharon shook her head no. “Thank you.”

She shut the door in the agent’s face, relishing the expression of shock and disdain she’d elicited. With the door shut, Grace began flipping through the paperwork, trying to get an idea of where Bucky might be, where her fiancé and his team would be heading.

“You really shouldn’t be looking at that,” Steve scolded gently, plucking the folder from her grasp. He kissed her lightly as he stepped past her, thumbing through the file himself.

“I don’t like being in the dark,” Grace stated, dropping to a seat on the end of the bed again. “Especially now that the Accords are in effect and you won’t sign. I’m glad you didn’t, but it’s dangerous.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want you knowing everything,” Steve shut the folder. “If I get arrested, the less you know, the better. That way they can’t prosecute you as an accessory.”

“I hate this,” she held her head in her hands, staring at the floor. “If you get caught –”

“I won’t get caught,” he stated, kneeling in front of her so he could look her in the eye. He took her hands in his, pulling them away from her face. He gently kissed the back of each hand. “I’m going to get Bucky somewhere safe, get him help, then we’re going to finish our European vacation. I saw you eyeing the website for Euro Disney on your phone. What do you say to extending our vacation a week? Think you can take the time away from work?”

“For you?” She felt a smile creeping its way across her lips. “Absolutely. But what about that beautiful village you painted? Wouldn’t you rather got there?”

“That’s for our honeymoon, remember?” He offered her a faint smile, but she could tell he was hiding his own nerves. This wasn’t a normal situation and it had potential to go very wrong.

His phone beeped and his head drooped, displeased that he couldn’t give her his full attention. He kissed each of her hands again, before letting go and pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the most recent message.

“I have to go,” he said after checking the screen. “All my stuff is packed, so it’ll be out of your way and you won’t have to worry about it.”

Grace got to her feet and slipped her arms around him, an unsettling fear knotting her stomach. She clung to him tightly, resting her head on his chest as she shut her eyes. Whenever Steve had to go save the world, all she wanted was to hold onto him as long as possible, to imprint in her mind the feeling of his arms around her and remember his warmth and the smell of his skin. He kissed the top of her head, holding her tightly, trying to do the same.

“I love you,” she said, still nestling against him, unwilling to let go.

“I love you too,” he tipped her face upwards, kissing her deeply before reluctantly letting her go and stepping back. “I will be back before you know it. Promise.”

“Stay safe,” she said, following him to the door. “Tell Sam I said hi.”

“I will,” he smiled at her, pausing to give her one more kiss, before he stepped into the hallway. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She leaned against the doorframe and watched him go. Pepper had already flown home because she had important meetings she couldn’t postpone. Tony and Danny were up in Scotland looking at some investment opportunity, something Grace hadn’t caught all the details about, but he was supposed to be back the next day. That would hopefully be enough time for Steve and Sam to get to Budapest, get Bucky and take him somewhere safe, and get Steve back to London before Tony could know he had gone missing. It would be tight, but they could do it.

Luckily, Grace had plenty to distract her from worry. With guidebook in hand, she ventured out into London, determined to see as much as possible before her time there was up. She did the self-guided tours of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. The Abbey in particular was a marvel, all the kings and nobles interred there, the stunning architecture, the history. There was nothing quite like it in the United States. After the Abbey, she walked the same streets through Whitehall that Steve had showed her and visited the Churchill bunker museum. As she wandered through, she couldn’t help but wonder what life must’ve been like for Steve during the war. They’d talked about it some, back in the days when she’d been his therapist and every now and then little things still came up, but being down there, it hit her how truly frightening it must have all been.

“Well, that kind of completely defeated the purpose of the day,” she muttered to herself once she finally emerged back outside. “I’m supposed to be doing things to keep my mind off of Steve.”

She found an Indian place in her guidebook to stop at for lunch before spending her entire afternoon in the National Gallery and National Portrait Gallery. By the time she was finished with her sightseeing for the day, Grace felt too tired to figure out where to go for dinner so she hopped on the tube and headed back to her hotel, opting for room service, which she ate in bed while watching movies on tv. She never slept well with Steve away. Even when they’d just been roommates, she always slept better knowing he was in the apartment. Shutting off her alarms, she decided to stay up late watching romcoms, cartoons, and reruns of I Love Lucy until she finally conked out, too exhausted to notice Steve was gone.

Her head shot off her pillow and she sat bolt upright when she heard frantic pounding on her door. The tv was still running and the sun slipping through the cracks in the curtains. She scrambled to fling the covers off top of her and scootched out of the bed, struggling to get her bearings.

“Who the hell…” she shuffled to the door, still blinking the sleep from her eyes. Peering through the peephole she saw Tony in the hallway still frantically pounding on the door. She unlocked it and swung it open. “Dad? What’s going on?”

She yawned involuntarily and watched as he hurried into the room and went immediately for the remote on her bedside table, flipping the channel to bring up a news report. There was footage running of a motorcycle chase, somewhere in Europe, and then Grace saw Sam. Then some other guy in a cat costume she didn’t recognize. Then Steve.

“Shit,” Grace muttered under her breath.

“The details are still unclear, but the participants in the high-speed chase, including Captain America, have been arrested.”

“Shit,” she exclaimed.

It was hard to sift through what she was feeling right that moment. Fear, obviously, over the fact that Steve was now in the grasp of bureaucratic officials who wanted him on a leash and would threaten to put him in jail to get him to comply. Anger over the fact that he had promised this wouldn’t happen and yet now she was sitting on the end of her hotel bed, yet again, watching a news report of mayhem, including footage of her fiancé being loaded into the back of a police car, like a common criminal, his freedom and their future suddenly uncertain. Guilt that she now had to lie to her father and pretend she hadn’t known about Steve’s plan.

“Did you know he was gonna do this?” Tony asked, stepping between her and the tv. She noted he was in a suit and tie, not at all his typical day to day wear and definitely not what he’d been wearing when he left for Scotland with Danny.

Grace simply blinked. “No,” she lied.

“Don’t’ lie to me, Grace,” he tipped his head to the side and frowned, clearly disappointed. “It’s not cute. And if you’re going to lie, you better get a lot more adept at it.”

“Managed to do it pretty well for about two years to keep my relationship secret from you,” she stated flatly. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the actual answers to.”

“Jesus, Gracie,” he growled, running a hand along his jaw. Whirling around he clicked off the television, leaving them in awkward quiet. He spun back around. “They want to put him in jail, do you get that? Why didn’t you come to me? I could’ve stopped him before it got to this point.”

Grace frowned and stared down at her hands, clasping them in her lap. All the intense emotions bubbling up in her, she wasn’t sure it would be wise to speak.

“Can you fix it?” She asked quietly, voice cracking, tears threatening to fall. She knew that if they put Steve in superhero jail, the odds were good that he might disappear forever. “You know Steve doesn’t deserve to be treated like a criminal. He was just trying to save his best friend who needs real, medical help. You would do the same if it was Rhodey.”

“I’m going to Berlin right now to see what I can do,” he sighed, going to the closet and opening up the doors, looking around. He found her suitcase and pulled it out, setting it in front of her. “Pack your stuff, you’re going back home.”

“No, I’m going with you to Berlin,” Grace insisted, getting up from her seat.

“Absolutely not,” Tony grew authoritative and stern in a way he’d never been with her before.

“But—”

“Grace, I said no,” he snapped, face screwed up angrily. “This isn’t some local jail where you go to pay bail and free your boyfriend for something as petty as unpaid parking tickets. This is an international law enforcement agency that wants to lock him away for terrorism.”

“But Dad—”

“No buts!” He shouted, openly exasperated and not in the joking way. “I said no, that’s final,” he hefted her suitcase onto the bed, unzipped it and opened it up. “Pack your bags, kid,” he went back to the closet and grabbed what remained of her clothing from in there and dumped it on top of the suitcase, haphazardly. “Wheels up in an hour.”

“I’m twenty-eight years old, you can’t just issue orders to me like that,” Grace scowled.

A knock on the door prevented her from saying anything that she might regret. She ignored her father who was shoving her clothes into her suitcase, sans folding, trying to make them fit around the stuff Steve had already insisted she pack away. Checking the peephole again, she swung the door Inward to let in Happy, who was dressed in a black suit, his usual work attire.

“Happy, I hope you’re here to take Dad away,” she huffed, walking away from the door. “Dad, stop.” She saw him scoop out one of the drawers of clothes, dumping them on top of the mess already in her suitcase. “Stop!”

Tony froze, a pained look on his face, the same sort of wounded expression he’d had when she chewed him out for threatening Steve. He stepped away from the mound of clothes, hands in the air. Grace heaved a sigh and went over to fix the mess.

“Just go,” she sighed, reorganizing.

“Happy’s not here for me,” Tony said, stepping out of the way. “He’s going to get you to the airport and fly back with you to make sure you get back home.” Turning to the side he muttered to Happy. “Don’t let her out of your sight, don’t let her talk to anyone, and don’t let her talk you into taking her anywhere but straight home.”

“Unbelievable,” Grace raged, grabbed the mess of her clothes and threw them on the bed. She saw both Happy and Tony cower. “I don’t need a babysitter!”

“I am putting my ass on the line to bail your boyfriend out,” Tony hollered. “A thank you would be nice!”

“He wouldn’t be in this mess if you had done what you know is right and opposed those stupid fucking accords,” she shouted right back at him, which took him so startlingly aback that he had to step away from her.

“I’m gonna wait out in the hall,” Happy stated, ducking out of the room as quickly as he could.

“I guess I deserved that,” Tony mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck, one hand on his waist, clearly uncertain what to do. They’d never raised their voices with each other in the four years. It stung. “I could’ve come at it better.”

Grace glared at him as she began folding the messy blob of clothes that she’d flung onto the bed. Despite her absolutely rage, she knew her father had a point. Showing up in Berlin wouldn’t help anything. She wasn’t a lawyer, she didn’t have any say in what happened with the Avengers, she couldn’t change anything by being there. Growling in frustration, she finished folding a sweater and shoved it down in her suitcase before going for the next piece of clothing.

“You know I’m just trying to keep you safe, right?” He asked, taking a timid step closer, sliding his hands in his pockets. “These shady government agents, they wouldn’t hesitate to try to charge you as an accessory if they even sniff a hint that you were complicit in Rogers’ antics in Budapest. They could come after you as leverage against him and me. You’ll be safest at home.”

The folding of clothes was taking too long, so she followed her father’s initial instinct and just crammed everything in the suitcase before flipping the lid shut, leaning heavily on it with one hand and zipping it with the other. The zipper strained against the unkempt load, but held. She went to the closet and pulled out the bags from Hamley’s toy store, the ones holding the teddy bears she and Steve had bought, and her stomach knotted.

What if he’s gone forever? What if these just collect dust or end up in a thrift store because we never have kids?

She shook the thought off and plopped the bags on the bed beside her suitcase before going to the nightstand to grab her chargers, iPad, cellphone, and all the bits and bobs that had accumulated over the course of the week.

“Please say something, Grace,” Tony pleaded. “I’m getting flashbacks to my childhood here.”

“I don’t know what there is to say, Dad,” she snapped. “You promised that everything would be fine in regard to the Accords, but it’s very obviously not, as I tried to warn you. Steve promised me he wouldn’t run into any trouble getting Bucky, that proved to be an empty promise. Nobody listens to me. The superheroes know everything! Just trust us, Grace! Go home, Grace. Everything will be fine, Grace. Well, everything’s not fine,” she spat. “Everything is fucked up. My fiancé is on the brink of being disappeared by some shady government agency. I’m worried you’ll be disappeared next if you make the tiniest misstep, which you do regularly and often intentionally.”

She felt burning, furious tears roll down her cheeks and sniffed, refusing to look her father in the eye as he stepped closer laying a hand on her back. Shaking her head, she shut her eyes and drew in ragged breaths, struggling not to absolutely lose it and break down. Pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes she tried to steady her breathing.

“Come here,” Tony said, pulling her into him as he kissed the top of her head and held her tight. Grace laid her head against his chest and tried to focus on her breathing. “I’m sorry,” he finally said what she’d been waiting to hear. “I’m sorry this happened. And I’m sorry it’s partly my fault.” He rubbed her back. “I’m going to do my best to fix it. But I can’t focus on anything else if I’m not one hundred percent sure you’re safe.”

“Ok,” she resigned herself to her fate. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” he chuckled, resting his cheek on the top of her head and giving her a squeeze. “Pepper gets a few shouting sessions out a month. Just try not to sync up together, ok? I don’t think I could handle that.”

“I’ll do my best,” she sighed and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Gracie,” he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Come on, I’ll help you carry your stuff to the car.”

Chapter 40

Masterlist

Chapter 42

#mcu #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu oc #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel oc #multichapter fic #multichapter fanfiction #multichapter fanfic #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers fanfic #Steve Rogers fic #Steve Rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers x oc #Steve Rogers fluff #Captain America #Captain America fanfic #Captain America fic #Captain America fanfiction #Captain America fucks #Captain America fluff #Captain America x oc #Tony Stark #Tony Stark fanfic #Tony Stark fanfiction #Tony Stark fic

[jxmesfalco]

✦ MICHAEL MALARKEY, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ✦ JAMES FALCO the THIRTY-FOUR year old has been in Hidehill for SIXTEEN YEARS and was a FRENEMY to Ronnie Nilsson, the most recent shadow of Hidehill. Whispers on the streets are that the TATTOO ARTIST AT SORRY MOM who lives in HOVE LAKE are said to be RESOURCEFUL and SELF-SERVING but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves.

tw: absent parents, jail/criminal history

James grew up in Mountain Lakes, New Jersey, a rich lakeside suburb just an hour outside New York. His mother was a wedding planner and his father a real estate developer. Both were often too preoccupied with their jobs to take care of James, so early on he had grown to know his nanny, Lena, better than his own family. 

When he reached 8th grade, his parents enrolled him in boarding school. While he had certainly not been a saint before, being shipped off had certainly added to his behavior. His parents may have wanted to pretend they didn’t have a kid— save for when it was convenient with clients and Christmas cards— but they couldn’t exactly pretend when he was getting expelled. The first time happened his sophomore year, getting caught smuggling liquor into the dorm. A big donation had gotten the next school to warm up come acceptance, then after his first stint of trouble, selling answer keys to midterm exams, letting him get away with a slap on the wrist. There was no third chance after he’d gotten caught in the dean’s office with the dean’s daughter.

After that, his father cut ties (for the first time). “You’re eighteen. You want to act like it’s you against the world, fine have it.” On his own, James reached out to one of his best friend’s from the year above and landed himself a play to stay in Hidehill. Coming in two months into senior year and with a bit of a reputation following him from the North, James stuck out. Good thing he liked attention.

In place of college, James started working construction jobs, having picked up a few things listening in on his dad’s business calls and the sight trips where he’d been shoved off to a corner. It felt good to work with his hands and the work definitely helped to keep him in shape, but growing up more privileged he missed the luxuries. So he reached out and, surprisingly, earned an invitation to Thanksgiving Dinner.

Then twenty-two, it had been about a year and half that James had returned to his family’s good graces. Life spent half home, half in Hidehill. He got the steak dinners, free access to his father’s boat, vacations to Greece, Iceland, and weekends in Martha’s Vineyard. He got comfortable and comfortable brought back old habits, old thoughts. Soon James was pocketing Rolex’s and grabbing bills from his mother’s purse that would go unnoticed given the shopping bags ever passing through the door. Then his house extended to neighbors and friends. He got cocky. Got reckless. He didn’t think they’d notice one bottle of scotch; didn’t account for it to be worth $10,000. Also didn’t account for them to press charges but sure enough security footage in-hand, the police came and took him in. Privilege let his father bail him out and throw money to make the problem go away. But that was it, the last straw.

Back in Hidehill, James didn’t do much to improve his behavior, he just got better at picking and choosing his moments. At the end of the day, he was a smart guy, too smart to go and get himself locked up. So while he’s been handcuffed and thrown in the back of cop cars, James only knew what it was like to stay in a cell for the night.

His interest in tattoo came when he got his first, an angel on his thigh. He’d always considered himself to be fairly decent at art, though hadn’t put much consideration towards it. His father, his teachers, the world had stressed on him the importance of those core classes. Art was a hobby, not a career. After his third visit to Sorry Mom, James inquired about becoming a tattoo apprentice. The whole thing was a process, especially with him and his pride, but with time he got there, paid his dues. Now he’s one of their main artists, his focus on Black and Grey realism.

He had a tattoo of a falcon on his chest.

He currently lives in Hove Lake, though not in a place of his own. He found someone renting out their guest house. Being near the lake reminds him of where he grew up. Sitting out on the dock is one of his favorite pastimes.

Despite what some of his friends may say, he did not steal his dog. Benny hopped in his car! He tried getting him out but the man chose him. And as far as he saw there were no missing dog flyers. At now having had him three years, it was finder’s keepers.

Occasionally picks up odd jobs, mostly construction but occasionally security or pet-sitting. He really does have a soft spot when it comes to animals.

Generally a know-it-all, cocky, and smug, but charming when he wants to be. Would rather be the one to hurt someone than to get hurt.

An asshole.

CONNECTIONS:

People he knew from New Jersey/New York, there until he was 18.

Ex-coworkers

Tattoo clients

FWB

One-night stands

Exes - limiting to 2, short-term

Best friend.

Friends.

Reluctantly friends with him.

Hate him.

Person who’s house he’s renting at (Hove Lake)

Met on a vacation maybe?

More... 

#hidehillintro #about #intro

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Meant To Be

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: You are studying to be an FBI profiler with a little over a year left before graduation. When the BAU team shows up in your town for a case you jump at the chance to shadow them for a day. However, things quickly take a turn when you meet Aaron Hotchner, your future boss. And the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. 

Warnings: None! A little dramatic??? This is a purely self indulgent, love at first sight kind of fic so just prepare yourselves. 

Word Count: 4,063

A/N: So I had a mild stroke trying to figure out the timeline for this series so please just don’t look too much into it lol.

MAY 2006

FORT WORTH, TX

It was just barely six in the morning when you pulled into the parking lot of the precinct. Although the sun hadn’t peaked over the horizon yet, you were surprisingly awake. In preparation for the day you had gone to bed at eight the night before which left you well-rested and alert. There was no way you were going to let yourself be off your game. Not today. Of all your classmates, you had certainly progressed the quickest. Due to your high success rate, your professor had authorized you to shadow the team of FBI profilers that were coming to your city for a case. It was an amazing opportunity for someone with a over a year left before graduation so you immediately accepted. Not allowing yourself to make even the slightest mistake, you planned everything down to the last detail in the days leading up to this. Nothing would be able to faze you. With the confidence of a woman who’d been working in this precinct all her life, you strode into the lobby. The receptionist asked for your ID which you quickly displayed. It was only temporary but even so, there was a certain amount of power you felt when she cleared you to continue into the building. After stopping briefly to ask for directions you made your way back to the Police Chief’s office. When he hears your knock, he looks up from his paperwork with a polite smile.

“Well, good morning. What can I help you with?” Clearing your throat, you prepare your most professional voice as you reply.

“My name is Y/N L/N. We met earlier this week. I’m going to be shadowing the team of profilers who are flying in today.” Recognition crosses his features as he makes his way over to shake your hand.

“Of course. I remember. It’s nice to see you again. You’re very punctual. That’s a good skill to hang on to.” You smile in gratitude. “Well, the profilers aren’t here just yet. If you’d like you can wait in here or we can find an empty desk for you.” 

“Actually, I was hoping I could look over the case files. I’d like to be as up-to-date as possible before they arrive.” As he nods, the two of you make your way into the hallway. Towards the back corner of the common workspace is an empty desk that he allows you to sit at. While you put your things down and take a seat he disappears long enough to retrieve a file folder and set it on the desk in front of you. 

“This should be enough information for you to be able to help out. If you’ve got any questions in the meantime, you know where I’m at.” With another polite smile, he leaves you to continue his paperwork. It doesn’t take long for you to read the case file. There had been a conspicuous string of murders in the area, which began about two weeks ago. Four couples were murdered in their homes, all wealthy without children. A list of witnesses and family members had been compiled to make the interview process a little easier. You predicted you’d most likely be helping one of the profilers in questioning the people on this list so you tried your best to memorize the names. 

It seemed like hardly any time had passed when you heard the main doors of the precinct opening to reveal a group of five people walking up to the receptionist’s desk. The sight of them immediately perked you up. It was difficult to make out any individual faces at first but you knew these must be the profilers. As they each scanned their IDs and made their way into the main workspace you quickly gathered your things so that you would be ready to move the moment they were. It didn’t take long for the Chief of Police to reappear, welcoming the profilers and showing them where they could set up their equipment. Every member of the team had a distinctly different look and behavior but they all seemed to work in unison. Even though they’d only been there for five minutes they exuded professionalism and efficiency. As you watched them you had to remind yourself to breathe. You had as much right to be there as them. Admittedly they did have a lot more experience than you but that didn’t change the fact that you’re all on the same team now. 

Waiting patiently, you finish putting the case file back together and fold your hands to rest them on the edge of the desk. When the Chief of Police calls you over you gather up your things and make your way around the various desks to stand next to him. 

“This here is Miss L/N. She’s a student at our local university. She’s gonna be tagging along with you guys today for a little real-world practice.” As he introduces you, you take the opportunity to study the faces of the people in front of you. There is only one you recognize for certain. They all have their attention set on you as well which makes you suddenly very aware of yourself. “Anyway, I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.” With a nod, he turns to speak to you. “If you don’t mind stopping by my office at the end of the day, I’ll get you all checked out alright? In the meantime, have fun I guess.” He adds with a laugh before finally leaving you alone with the others. 

The first one to extend his hand to you is the one person you are familiar with. More than familiar, seeing as he is kind of your hero. You had been the one to initiate the arrangement, having sent him an email a few weeks ago. He had seemed more than willing to let you work with them for the day and he was nothing but helpful, just like you knew he would be. Seeing him now was nearly surreal.

“Y/N, I remember.” He begins, shaking your hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jason Gideon, as you know. Glad to have you on board.” 

“It’s absolutely an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve been a follower of your work since I knew what profiling was. I am so grateful for this opportunity. I am more than ready to help in any way I can.” As you speak, a warm smile lights his face. One of friendliness and hope.

“Of course. I think I speak for my team when I say we’re grateful as well. Not many people in our field get a chance to guide the next generation to a life of helping others. Anything we can do to support you as a future member of our team, we’re happy to do.” This response is entirely heartfelt and shocking to you. Of all the ways you’d imagined this interaction starting, this wasn’t what you had in mind and yet it was exactly what you needed. 

“Thank you, sir.” Was all you could manage as you work to maintain your fading air of professionalism. 

“Well, with that I’ll let everyone do their own introductions.” Almost immediately another man stepped out of line and reached for your hand. He was very conventionally handsome and the way he carried himself told you he knew that he was good-looking. The smile he flashed you was contagious as you shook hands with him.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Agent Derek Morgan and I am very excited to get to know you.” The woman next to him has to pull him away, shooting him a look. She seems very severe and yet when she turns to look at you there is a distinct kindness in her eyes.

“Knock it off Morgan. You’re gonna scare her off before she even gets a chance to meet anyone else.” She says over her shoulder, taking your hand. “I’m Elle. If he keeps bugging you, I’ll be more than happy to rough him up for you.” Morgan holds his hands up defensively when he catches Elle’s eye again before giving you a small wink. 

“Nice to meet you both.” It’s hard to contain your laughter but you manage, giving a small smile instead. Another woman is standing beside Gideon who shakes your hand. She is very beautiful and seems to exude confidence and grace. 

“I’m JJ. I’m the Communications Liaison for the BAU. We spoke briefly last week.” You nod in recognition. She had helped you coordinate the time and place to meet up for the day.  

“Of course. Very nice to meet you in person.” 

“Likewise. We’re excited to be working with you.” She gives you a warm smile which you gladly return before looking to the last person in the small group. He looks to be about your age, very sensibly dressed with a nice posture. There is a slight awkwardness in the way that he shakes your hand but he gives you a quick smile and you can see that he has a hidden friendliness in his demeanor. 

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He says shortly to which you politely nod. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” With that, you turn back to Gideon to ask about your assignment for the day. However, you can’t help but feel like something is missing. “I read through the case file this morning so I can be of use wherever I’m needed. Did you have an assignment in mind or will I be moving around throughout the day?” 

“I think it would be beneficial for you to work with SSA Hotchner. He should be here any minute.” That’s what was missing. Hotchner. You had heard his name before but you didn’t know much about him. As you waited for him to arrive, Gideon began delegating tasks to each of the other members. Despite not being given a task yet you listened intently until the front doors of the precinct opened. 

However you had pictured Hotchner, the man that walked through that door was the furthest thing from what you expected. The sight of him striding in from the lobby made your breath catch in your throat. There was an innate power in the way that he moved. So much purpose and intensity. His eyes were dark and they found your face almost immediately. It was enough to make you squirm but you maintained your composure. Gideon turned to greet him before gesturing back towards you. “This is Y/N L/N. She’s a student who is here to shadow the team for the day.” 

With the slightest hesitation, you extended your hand toward him. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a moment as he shook your hand. 

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. It’s very nice to meet you.” He spoke with a clear sense of professionalism. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m looking forward to working with you. I have a feeling I’m going to learn a lot from this experience.” 

“I hope so. It was very smart of you to seize this opportunity. It does not come around often. Soak up everything you can today and I’m sure it will bring you a lot of success in the future.” You listen to him intently, nodding with a small smile. 

“Hotch, would you mind if she rides along with you today? We’ve got a list of witnesses we need to speak to and I think it would be good for her to get out in the field rather than being stuck here doing paperwork.” Gideon interjects, looking to both of you as he proposes the idea. Hotchner looks around the precinct briefly for the other team members before giving Gideon his attention again.

“Of course. Do I need to brief her on the case?” 

“Actually, I already familiarized myself with the case file before you all got here this morning.” You interrupt before Gideon can respond, causing both the men to look at you. “Sir.” You add, clearing your throat. They both share a knowing look. 

“Perfect,” Hotchner replied, with a respectful nod. Satisfied with the interaction, Gideon dismissed himself to begin his work leaving the two of you alone. “Give me a few minutes to speak with the Chief of Police and then we can get started. Would you mind waiting out front for me?” You nod eagerly which prompts him to walk back toward the Chief’s office. Once he has disappeared around the corner you make your way to the front of the building, stepping through the main doors. The cool morning air brings with it a sweet wave of relief. You hadn’t realized how hot you were until you had stepped outside. Nerves were already building up in your system when you were being introduced to the rest of the team but meeting Hotchner had tipped you over the edge. There was no denying that he was a very handsome man. The evidence was in the blush that was surely covering your face. Mentally scolding yourself you take a deep breath. You were a professional and you would act as such. No matter how deeply moved you felt when he looked into your eyes like that. 

A few minutes later Hotchner made his way through the front doors causing you to stand at attention. Moving briskly, you followed him into the parking lot and pulled yourself into the passenger seat of the dark SUV he had just unlocked. He remained silent as he began typing an address into the GPS before pulling out of the parking lot. Once you were on the road he looked over at you briefly.

“How much do you know about questioning witnesses?” He began.

“Quite a bit. I’m only about a year away from graduation so I have a fairly advanced understanding of a wide variety of concepts that pertain to profiling.” Watching the GPS, he nods. Feeling a tinge of awkwardness, you allow your eyes to stay focused on your lap.

“Good. Any real-world experience?” 

“Unfortunately no. In my courses, we do simulate certain scenarios fairly often but there isn’t much opportunity for real application.” 

“Well the best advice I can give for today is to stay quiet and watch me. If I need you to speak up, I will tell you as much. Otherwise, don’t say anything. It isn’t that I distrust you. It would just be irresponsible of me to allow someone with zero field experience to question the victim’s friends and family during some of the most difficult times of their lives. Especially without having seen what they’re capable of beforehand. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh absolutely. I completely understand. I know that I’m here in more of an observational capacity today. And even if I wasn’t, you’re the boss. No explanation necessary.” Hotchner is quiet for a moment. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with avoiding eye contact, you would have seen the remnants of a smile on his face.

“I should have you talk to the rest of the team. They could learn a thing or two from you.” This causes you to laugh lightly. 

When you finally do decide to look at him the sight steals your breath yet again. He is bathed in the golden light of the rising sun and he seems almost ethereal. You can see a flash of his deep brown eyes which seemed very soft now in the glow of the sun. As though he could feel you looking at him he turns to meet your eyes although this time you don’t look away. The two of you sit there in what seems like the most eternal moment, dancing in and out of each other before he breaks away to look back at the road. For a moment you could almost swear you saw something there in his eyes, something almost like longing. It must have just been a trick of the light. 

“So, what made you decide to be a profiler?” The moment is over as quickly as it began as he speaks up. 

“Well, I’ve always had a deep fascination with the human psyche. Finding out what makes people tick. Picking apart their personalities, their behaviors. Growing up that almost felt like the only way to understand the kids around me. By studying them. Every friendship I had felt like a science project. When I found out that I could use that ability to be part of something bigger than myself, to make the world just a little brighter ... well, it was really a no-brainer.” 

“That’s very ... noble and, honestly, very uplifting to hear. With this job, you experience a lot more bad days than you do good. Sometimes it is hard to remember why we started doing this in the first place. It’s people like you that remind me this job is worth it. Hang on to those beliefs. They’ll help keep you sane, I can promise you that.” With a nod, you give him a kind smile.

“I will. I promise.” It isn’t much longer before you arrive at the first house. The interview is fairly straightforward. You stay close by Hotchner’s side as he introduces the both of you. Once you’re inside you sit quietly as he begins asking questions, merely listening and taking mental notes of the way he conducts himself. It is over fairly quickly and then you’re both back in the SUV and off to your next destination. The next two interviews are the same. On the third, he lets you ask a few routine questions. It is a simple gesture but you are very grateful for the experience and you handle yourself very well. 

Your final interview is with the parents of the latest male victim. When Hotchner knocks on the door, it takes a minute for it to open. Standing on the other side is an older man with a tired expression. 

“Yes? What is it?” The man says briskly. Hotchner pulls out his badge.

“I am SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. This is Miss Y/N L/N. May we come in?” Hearing the term FBI causes the man’s expression to darken rather quickly as he looks between the two of you.

“Where’s your badge?” He questions, nodding in your direction. Remaining silent, you share a look with Hotchner. After a second of thought he gives you a small nod of approval.

“I’m not actually an FBI agent yet, sir. I’m a criminology student at the local university. I’m shadowing Agent Hotchner today as a learning opportunity before getting out in the field myself.” 

“A learning opportunity?” It takes the man almost no time to answer and you can hear a significant shift in his voice. “You’re using my son’s death as a learning opportunity?” 

“You misunderstand--” Hotchner begins in your defense before you quickly cut him off with your own response.

“Sir, I can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through. But I can promise you that my lack of experience is entirely made up for by my desire to see the person who did this to your son pay for it. It doesn’t take training to see that your son deserves justice for his death.” The man is silent but keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“My wife and I have already told the police everything we know.” 

“We know, sir. It will only take a few moments of your time and anything you can tell us might be crucial in finding your son’s killer.” 

“No. No, we’ve already talked about this more than any parent should ever have to. If it’s that important go ask the police what we said.”

“Please, sir--” Before he can finish, the man smacks the door frame.

“It took the deaths of eight innocent people for you to swoop in and save the day. You really think I want to waste a second of my time speaking with you? I have nothing more to say. Now get out of here.” With that, Hotchner nods before turning to leave which prompts you to quickly follow. As you get near the SUV you are startled by the sound of the man’s door being slammed shut. Once inside you release the breath that had been caught in your chest. When you look over at Hotchner his expression shows a deadly calmness and you are suddenly struck by the idea that he must be pissed at you.

“I’m so sorry. That was all my fault. I upset him. I shouldn’t have said anything to him. I should have just kept my mouth shut like you told me to. I had no right to do that. I’m sorry.” The crushing weight of embarrassment and guilt settled over you. This morning you had felt more than ready but now it seemed like the day had been filled with challenges you couldn’t possibly have prepared for. In only a few hours you had managed to show your boss that you are completely incompetent. You ready yourself for what must surely be his wrath however when he turns towards you his expression shifts from one of unwavering calm to gentle kindness.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. What you said was perfect, it’s exactly what I would have said. You were establishing a rapport with him to gain his trust. You did the right thing. Believe me, it wasn’t you. There is nothing either of us could have said that would have gotten a different result.” When he sees that you are still wary he shifts in his seat to face you more directly. “As a future member of my team, you have my trust. You handled yourself very impressively today. You’re going to make a very fine addition to the BAU.” 

His words ease your anxious mind as you nod quietly. Soon after Hotchner is pulling back out onto the street to take you both back to the police precinct. After a minute of silence he glances over at you.

“So ... are you still sure you want to do this?” The question catches you off-guard but it takes you no time at all to answer.

“More than anything.” This time you do catch the faint smile that crosses his lips which causes you to give a small smile in return.

“Good.” Is all he says for the rest of the ride back to the precinct.

The day is over much more quickly than you had hoped for. When you step back into the police building you make a beeline for the chief’s office, remembering his request that you find him again at the end of the day. You return your temporary ID and he fills out a form for your professor to verify your activity for the day. Once the formalities are over he bids you a good evening and shows you back out to the main workspace. The team all gather briefly to say their goodbyes as well. You thank Gideon profusely for allowing you to join them before shaking hands with the rest of the team members. As you make your way to the exit you see Hotchner standing near the main doors. 

“Thank you so much for letting me tag along today. I really learned a lot.” As you say this you extend your hand which he quickly takes. 

“Absolutely. It was a pleasure working with you and I look forward to seeing you again in a few years. In the meantime, here’s my card.” He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out his business card which he hands to you. “If you ever need anything, feel free to give me a call.” Tucking the card safely into your pocket you thank him with a smile before heading out the main doors to your car. 

Once inside you pull the card out of your pocket and sit for a minute, staring at it. Unable to control yourself you let a giddy smile paint your face. After the day you had, a year has never seemed longer. The anticipation of your future at the BAU looms over you but rather than filling you with nerves it brings you hope and excitement for the things to come. Opening a small compartment on your dash, you tuck the business card away before heading home to get a good night’s sleep filled with wonderful dreams.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester​

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #series #meant to be #love at first sight #fluff #ssa aaron hotchner #agent aaron hotchner #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #reader insert #female reader #some angst #i guess #part 1 #BAU reader #profiler reader

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.  

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.  

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.  

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?  

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.  

#Dark Fic #dark mcu #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #marvel fic #mob au #mob!steve #Mob!steve x reader #mafia au #mafi #dark! mob! steve rogers #raywrites #fixed #Lipstick and crayons #Lipstick and crayons masterlist

[mortalfaerie]

Stimulants (S.R)

spencer reid x bau (adhd) reader

word count: 1441

synopsis: reader has inattentive adhd but hasn't brought it up with the team before. after a few on-site assignments that drag into the night, spencer notices the signs of adderall wearing off and asks reader about it.

TW FOR DRUG MENTION AND DISCUSSION

these away assignments could prove to be hellish. it couldn't be helped- the nature of your work meant that you didn't exactly work at normal 9-to-5, and sometimes your team was wracking their mind in a small police station conference room at 2 am on a tuesday, knowing fully well that a killer was still on the loose. generally, you could be relied upon to focused and engaged during cases, providing useful insight or simply making witty banter with your teammates- but inside, you hoped that the case would wrap up timely enough that you wouldn't be blankly staring down into you 4th post-sunset cup of coffee, not taking in a word around you.

however, that's what you were doing at the moment.

"Y/L/N?" you heard Hotch say pointedly.

“Huh?” you snapped out of your haze, embarrassed, and Hotch gave you a sympathetic nod. “I understand, we’re all feeling a little burned out, but we have to focus. The unsub is out there.”

You gave a nod to the table and pursed your lips, then taking a long gulp of coffee.

work, work, work! you chided yourself.

you took your usual dose of adderall around 7 in the morning each day, and you could trust that you’d have a safe 11-12 hours of focus and level-headedness. However, its half-life ran out roughly 7 hours ago, and you were painfully aware of it. you had gotten the short end of the stick mentally, having gotten inattentive adhd as supposed to hyperactive adhd, which most people were familiar with. so, instead of having boundless energy that would have been useful right now, you couldn't stay engaged in the case for longer than 10 minutes at a time, and now your teammates were noticing.

you volunteered to go fetch some back records from the local legal archive next door, needing to clear your head- but with an unsub preying on women alone at night, Spencer was quick to volunteer himself to go with you. you walked mostly in silence to the elevator, but he spoke when the doors closed in front of you.

“Caffeine’s a stimulant.” he stated plainly.

“Uh. Yeah, it is.” you responded, not knowing where he was going with this.

“You know that you probably shouldn't be mixing stimulants.” he added, meeting your gaze in the reflective elevator doors.

you gaped at him for a moment, before loosing a dry laugh. “Are you diagnosing me with addiction, Dr. Reid?”

“Well, no, not precisely. You're evidently dependent on stimulants- I’ll wager that you take them around 7 or 8 each morning before work?”

you just gave a measured nod in response, not in the mood to deny it.

“Ritalin?” he asked, this time meeting your gaze directly.

“Adderall. Prescription, just so we're clear.”

“I figured as much- a normal person on adderall wouldn't have the same decline in ability after the half-life.”

you sighed. “Is it that obvious?” you ask. in the two months since you joined the bau, you had hoped you'd be able to stay on top of late night cases, or that they would be few and far between. as you were learning, the homicidal maniacs of the world didn't obey normal work hours.

he offered you a sympathetic smile. “I don't think anybody else thinks it's anything more than fatigue. I'm just a little more aware of it.” after a pause in which you studied the floor of the elevator, he added “You might consider getting a “bump” pill.”

you looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I do drugs?” you asked, only half sarcastic.

he flushed and backtracked. “Oh, no! I-” and you laughed openly, a good laugh, as the elevator doors opened. You proceeded through the lobby and put into the street with a flustered Dr. Spencer Reid on your heels. catching up to you, he explained, “A “bump” pill is a small amount of a stimulant that diffuses faster than your normal extended release medication, so you get a measured amount of focus for an hour or two after your primary stimulant wears off.”

you nodded, and pulled out your phone to put it on your calendar for your next doctor’s appointment. “Well, thank you, Reid.” you said, tucking your phone back in your pocket. “That would actually be pretty useful.”

clearly satisfied with himself, he gave a quick nod as you continued on to the legal archive. about two minutes had passed in silence before he abruptly said, “Call me Spencer.”

“Hm?” you responded, again forcing your brain to focus.

“Call me Spencer. You keep calling me Dr. Reid or Reid, but you don't have to.” on a more measured breath he added, “My friends call me Spencer.”

at this, you smiled. you had been fond of him since your first day, but were rarely alone to get to know him personally. you could tell the most obvious aspects of his personality and interests that he shared with the team, but all the while, he had apparently deduced that you had adhd and took medication for it by your behavior after hours alone.

“Alright then, Spencer. Then you call me Y/N.” you agreed.

“Y/N.” he said, as though trying out the sound of it.

As you thumbed through files in the archive looking for a specific box of court records, you and Spencer talked more, as he hinted that he knew what it was to be neurodivergent. you had wondered, of course- you were keenly aware of your ability to fixate on things and favor specific sensations over others- you couldn't stand the texture of chalk, and all your blouses were cotton since polyester felt like nails on a chalkboard for you to touch. you had noticed Spencer had similar reservations about things, but they were easily dismissible as him being eccentric.

walking back to the police station, each holding a box of files, he addressed your speculations. “If you wanted to talk about this again, I’d be glad to. I know what it is to have a mind that doesn't run like others do.”

you snorted, and gave you a confused glance. “No, I believe you, Spencer,” you explained. “But it seems to mostly work in your favor.”

he scoffed. “Not always. I have an eidetic memory, but I'd love to be able to read social cues. I'm well aware I can't do that, trust me.”

you smiled. “Well then, I'll trade you social graces for memory. I'd love to actually have a sense of object permanence.”

re-entering the elevator, he laughed. “Then it's a deal, we’ll swap.”

“Fantastic! I've always wanted to know what it's like to be a genius.” you exclaimed on a laugh.

“You don't think you are one?” he asked, more pointedly than you expected.

“I- no? Why would I?” you asked, a little shocked.

“Why wouldn't you?”

“Because I'm impulsive? I can be oblivious to the things right in front of me? Oh, and I have an executive function disorder? That doesn't really sound like Einstein to me.” you listed off, as though it were obvious.

“Impulsive, sure, but you're knowledgeable beyond what anyone would expect. You should see the expressions of the others when you told them the history of the ferris wheel on the last case- you even beat me to it. You see patterns that others don't, and you understand emotions on a level that the others can't imagine, because they've never been in your shoes as a kid with a learning disability.” he countered as the elevator ticked up and up the floors.

“You flatter me.” you said flatly, clearly skeptical.

“No, I'm being honest. You're incredibly intelligent. But if you only ever measure yourself by your perceived shortcomings, you'll never see that for yourself.” he said, matter-of-factly.

As the elevator doors opened again, the two of you were surprised to see the team suiting up in kevlars with Hotch on the phone with the local sheriff.

“Finally!” Prentiss exclaimed. “We’ve got a hit on the unsub, Morgan and I are heading over now- Hotch and local law enforcement are meeting us on-scene. Go put the boxes in the conference room and get back here.”

“Uh- of course!” you said, and you and Spencer exchanged a bewildered look as you rushed to go put the files away.

The clock back in the conference room told you it was closing in on 3 am. You huffed an exasperated sigh. “Does evil ever consider a good night’s rest might be pretty fulfilling?” you asked rhetorically.

“No.” Spencer said, setting down his box. “No, it never seems to do.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds oneshot #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #adhd #adhd reader

[imaginepirates]

Pirate

For the anon who wanted a James x reader where they meet on the Pearl, but James doesn’t have the guts to admit that he’s falling for them. Later, (we’re pretending his death didn’t happen), they meet again at Shipwreck Cove, and James confesses his feelings during the battle on the Dutchman.

@emdrabbles​ @tesserphantom​ @paljonkaikenlaista​ @viper-official​  @hellspawn-brownies​ @groovyfluxie​ @wordsinwinters​

~3760 words. Long again. 

~~~~~~~

           His hair hung in wet strings around his face. Whether they were matted together with water, alcohol, or vomit, you weren’t sure you wanted to know, though you suspected it to be a mixture of all three. A guard rail was all that kept him upright. He was a disaster, even for a pirate. Not that he’s a pirate, either.

          The former Commodore looked a wreck. You would be, too, you supposed, if you’d drunk yourself into complete oblivion. And someone needs to take away that damned wig. Currently, it sat on his head much like some bird’s nest, and you half-expected a gull to land in it at any moment. Pity mingled with your disgust. There had been a time when his name alone had struck fear into you. Now, he was a pathetic image, unable to do so much as hold himself up on two feet. He couldn’t strike fear into a fly.

          You were a bit surprised that Elizabeth, of all people, showed him no sympathy. Even Jack looked a bit repulsed, which was saying something, given that Jack himself was never in a prime state. He staggered upright, puking over the side of a railing.

          You sighed, walking brisky over, snatching the wig off the top of his head and tossing it overboard. He looked up at you through bleary eyes.

          “What the bloody hell was that for?”

          “You look awful.”

          “Thank you for your astute assessment.” Even drunk, his tone dripped sarcasm, and you were a little surprised.

          He’s still in his wits, then. You looked him over again. Somewhat. “You look marginally less awful without the wig.” He grunted. You grabbed the bottle he was holding, too, and threw it over the side.

          “Now that’s just a waste.”

          “You need to sober up.”

          “And who exactly are you, that it’s your job to police me?”

          “You’re embarrassing, is all, and it’s no good to be embarrassed by crewmates.”

          He snorted. “You should write to the admiralty. That sort of thinking would have spared me many of my own crewmates throughout the years.” He stared down into the waves, where his water-clogged wig had begun to sink under the surface.

          “Well, you don’t want to be that person, do you?”

          “At this point, I don’t particularly care.” His wig finally lost the battle, disappearing into the murky depths.

          “Have some pride.”

          “Pride?” He pushed himself up, looking coldly into your eyes with his own. “I’ve lost my title, I’ve lost my station, I’ve lost my livelihood. I have no house, nor family, nor friends. I’ve lost everything I ever held dear, including the woman I love, because despite being with her,” here he gestured with his chin to where Elizabeth stood at the helm, “I’m further from her than ever before. Now please, tell me again why I should have pride.”

          If you were being honest with yourself, it was hard to give him an answer. “You still have your life, and for however little that’s worth right now, things could be worse. You could be dead. Take pride in the fact that you didn’t let things get that far.” He scoffed, but you continued. “Go clean yourself up; splash some water on your face, and do something about the vomit in your hair. Things can get better. Clean up, and you’ll be one step closer.”

          He looked at you then, a vulnerability in his eye that wasn’t there before. Hope. He stalked off then, stumbling a bit, but trying admirably to, supposedly, follow your advice.

          Norrington carried out his tasks admirably and without complaint, no manner how demeaning for a man of his previous station. He was watched with suspicious eye; but why wouldn’t he be? He had been a ranking officer, after all, and an effective one at that. Too many pirates had been lost to his scouring of the Caribbean. Just how far can you trust a member of the navy, former or otherwise?

          The way he looked at Jack’s compass didn’t escape your notice. He knows. “Not thinking of stealing it, are you?” His neck craned to look up at you from his position kneeling on the deck, a wet cloth in hand. He stopped his scrubbing to glare.

          “I’m not a thief.” He looked back down, returning to his task.

          “You are a pirate.”

          His head whipped up at that, jaw working in annoyance. “I’m not a bloody pirate,” he hissed.

          “Then what the hell are you doing here? Top secret mission? I’m surprised you were chosen; I wouldn’t believe your fall from grace if I weren’t here to see it myself.”

          Norrington was showing clear restraint, obviously wanting to hit you with something. You watched him breifly consider using the wash-rag as a projectile before deciding against it.

          “Commodore Norrington. That was a name to fear, once.”

          The ferocity in his eyes vanished, replaced by sadness, his gaze dropping from yours. “I haven’t been that man in months. I never will be again.”

          “Good.” He shot you a questioning look. “It’s no use to be afraid of you. And, if what I hear from Elizabeth is true, you might learn to have some fun and not be so stiff all the time.” Offence flashes across his face, but you only smiled. “I blame high society. Welcome to freedom, James Norrington. I hope you get a taste for it.”

          He turned to look out over the steadily changing horizon, a soft pink beginning to dust the sky. “So do I.”

          The days wore on, and the crew steadily adjusted to James’ presence. He no longer ate alone, though he ate in silence, and the crew was more willing to interact with him. Elizabeth, you noted, had barely paid him any mind since his arrival. How she could be so callous towards him you didn’t know; you had expected her to at least talk to him, but she barely even looked his way.

          Not that he didn’t look hers. His gaze would fall upon her, sometimes, while he worked, and there was a sadness there that tugged at your heart. He was confused, too, as to her treatment of him. He wanted, more than anything, to be close to her. Even if she could treat him like a friend. But she refused to give him even that much.

          You were tired of watching it. “Come on,” you walked up to him, “let’s do something about that hair.”

          “You haven’t grown tired of telling me what to do, have you?” he drawled. He was propped against a railing, eyes following Elizabeth as she walked across the deck above them. With Jack, you noted. So, it seemed, did James.

          You sighed. “It can only get in the way, hanging down by your face like that.” You turned away, heading down belowdecks. He needs to get away from watching her.

          James followed, pushing off the railing and heading after you. Good. You found a spot with a few barrels—full of apples, you assumed; you never had gotten rid of all of Barbossa’s cargo—that would be suitable for sitting on. You motioned for James to do just that, moving behind him.

          You found yourself at a loss for words. What was there to say? You had little in common, and less that wouldn’t bring back poor memories for him. You kept silent, instead running your fingers through James’ hair. It’s longer than I expected, for a naval man. I wonder if he always kept it like this, or if it was close-cropped, once.

          “What exactly are you doing?” He turned his head a little to look back at you.

          “Braiding.” You separated his hair into three parts, beginning to twine the strands together.

          You expected him to ask you why, or to move away, but he stayed put. “I haven’t worn my hair in a braid since the navy.” It was almost a whisper. Somehow, in the low light of the hull, it seemed appropriate.

          You almost pulled away and apologized, but he went on. “I used to braid it to fit it under that damned wig. It could get so insufferably hot in the sun, though I was always glad to have the hair off the back of my neck. I don’t know how Elizabeth ever managed, in those dresses.” A soft smile sat on his face. “How did any of us manage, back then?”

          You knew he wasn’t speaking of the heat. You tied his hair off with a small strip of ribbon from around your wrist. It was interesting, to see something of yours on him, and you stared at it a moment before moving. “You’ve always kept your hair this long, then?” You moved to a barrel across from him.

          “For years. My mother hated it.” He smiled. “She told me it would be easier if I just cut it off.”

          “Good thing you didn’t.” He looked at you curiously, and you felt yourself beginning to flush. “It suits you.”

          His eyebrows raised in surprise. Even in the dim light of the lanterns, you could see his cheeks turn pink, the color extending down into his collar. You sat in awkward silence a moment, James fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves while you looked down at the black deck. “A name to fear, you said.”

          James was still toying with the cuff on his left wrist when you looked back up. “I think I like you this way better.”

          “I’m not sure I do.”

          You got up, moving to a barrel next to his. “I’d rather not fear you.” You grabbed his hand, taking it gently away from its fiddling. He scanned your eyes. “Like most people, you aren’t as terrifying as the stories make you sound.”

          “I never thought of it that way.”

          “That you struck fear, even into the best of us?”

          “I…” he trailed off. “It seems so ridiculous, that anyone feared me. I know I was good at my job—it was all I was good for.” He scoffed. “But I was so out of place in society…I always felt horribly awkward at all those social events. I was much more afraid of those people than they were of me.”

          “You were like…” you wracked your brain for a parallel. “You were told stories about Blackbeard when you were a child, right?”

          “Yes, of course. Upon reflection, I’m sure they were too dramatic to be true.”

          “That’s how you were to us. You were a reverse Blackbeard.” James laughed aloud at that. “I can’t even tell you how I pictured you. Larger, maybe. Older. And with a horrible, mean beard that took up half your face.”

          James smiled, and you found you quite liked the expression on him. “Am I as scary as the stories?”

          “Not even close. Though I’m sure I wouldn’t want to meet the business end of your sword,” you added.

          “Is Blackbeard as frightening as the tales?” James questioned. Then, more seriously, “Is Davy Jones?”

          You sobered. “Aye, he is.” You found that his hand was still in yours—he hadn’t pulled away. “But it’s mixed with disgust. He isn’t human, anymore. It can be revulting. And sad,” you said, upon reflection. “I can’t imagine; losing your humanity like that.”

          James said nothing, his eyes on your entertwined fingers. He ran his thumb over your knuckles. “Why do you talk to me?”

          You shrugged. “There’s no reason not to.”

          “That doesn’t seem to be the common belief.” He continued to rub gentle circles in the top of your hand. His fingers were calloused from years of hard work, but so were yours. He traced over your knuckles and each finger in turn. His brows furrowed. “It’s pity, isn’t it?”

          You could see how disgusted he was with himself. “Some, yes,” you admitted. “But you’re not half-bad to be around. This was…nice. I haven’t had a quiet moment with someone in ages.”

          He looked at you thoughtfully, using his free hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re not half-bad either, for a pirate.”

          You smiled, and he looked like he might say something more, but he stayed quiet, a soft smile of his own gracing his features. When he left, you knew he was in a better mood than when he came. I wonder if I’ll occupy any of the space in his thoughts that Elizabeth does. It was a silly thought, and you didn’t quite know why it came to mind, but there was a ghostly touch where James had brushed your hair aside, and you realized that you liked the idea of his thinking about you. Wishing for the attention of a naval man. Who would’ve thought?

~~~~~~~

          The news about Isla de Muerta came hard. You had been anxious the entire time, confined to the Pearl on the account that Davy Jones could make an appearance, and the ship would need to be crewed if he did.

          You weren’t prepared for the eventuality that James wouldn’t come back. You had worried, of course, wringing your hands with it, but you hadn’t actually thought…

          You kept your tears for him to yourself. Nobody else was bothered—not even Elizabeth. A man she’s known her entire life, dead, and she has no sorrow to show for it. How can she be so heartless? It was as if nothing had happened at all. The crew ignored it; they were used to that, you supposed. Half your number had been killed by cannibles, after all. But even Gibbs seemed unbothered by the prospect of James’ death.

          Only later did you realize that James had taken the heart. You didn’t believe it, at first, but slowly came to reconcile yourself with the idea. Elizabeth thought him a traitor. But was he ever really on our side? You thought back to your conversations with him. I like you this way better. It had been true. I’m not sure I do. That was true, too, and now he’d shown it.

          At first, none of it mattered to you. He was dead, anyway. Slowly, you began to realize that Jones didn’t have the heart. After all, he hadn’t quit pursuing the Pearl, even if you didn’t have the heart. When you learned that the heart was in possession of Cutler Beckett, damn his eyes, your heart leapt with joy. James is alive! No matter the mood of Jack, or Gibbs, or Elizabeth, or the crew, you could only think of James. He wasn’t killed, then. He used the heart as leverage to secure his old position.

          You pondered the thought. If ever you met him again, would you be afraid? Or would you just be sad?

~~~~~~~

          Shipwreck Cove was just as you’d remembered it. Dimly lit, ships stacked one on the other, whispered conspiracies in every corner. Every sailor’s legend had its place in these ships. There wasn’t a legend that hadn’t been speculated within the fortress, and not a pirate who hadn’t chased them without.

          You had fond memories of the Cove, but less fond memories of the Court. The Brethren Court convened on only the deepest of issues, and you still remembered some of their gatherings from when you were a child. It was loud, and there was no order, and the Court couldn’t meet without at least one death per session.

          It was that way now. Jack toyed with the swords stuck in the globe at the front of the room while the other pirate lords surrendered the miscellaneous junk they deemed their pieces of eight. The end result was a dish full of random trinkets. Not that you didn’t understand; the idea that pirates obtained mass amounts of wealth was a myth. Most of the time, you barely had a shilling to your name. Working with Jack was especially non-lucrative, but it was certainly more entertaining.

          Jack’s hand strayed briefly to the piece of eight at his temple. “Might I point out that we are still short one pirate lord and I’m as content as a cucumber to wait until Sao Feng joins us.”

          “Sao Feng is dead.”

          You recognized that voice. You whipped around to see Elizabeth, clad in full Chinese armor, sword in hand. You smiled to yourself; she was always full of surprises.

          The best surprise, however, was the man standing at her side. You mouthed James’ name, and his eyes locked on yours. He stepped forward, as if to greet you, but you were interrupted by further discussion of the Court. He’s alive, and he’s here, and I never thought I would see him again. You glanced over your shoulder. And he’s in full uniform.

          The Court was chaos. Barbossa’s plan to free Calypso was not taken well by the others, and you couldn’t blame them. Your mind was preoccupied, focussing on the man somewhere behind you. You wondered if he had seen the relief in your eyes. Had he felt the same?

          A hand settled on your shoulder. You turned to see James, worried eyes staring into your own. He pulled you back, leading you out of the room.

          “James?” You felt your eyes beginning to water. “For the longest time, I thought you had died.” Your voice cracked, and you were unable to stop it.

          He opened his mouth as if to say something, but only reached out to you, pulling you into a firm embrace. “I’m so sorry.” His breath tickled your ear. “I’ve done horrible things.”

          You held tightly to the back of his coat. “I’m just happy to see you again.”

          He stepped back, pain blossoming across his features. “I know you can never forgive me, for what I’ve done. I can only hope you-”

          The doors behind you opened, and the Court flooded out. The consensus is war, then.

~~~~~~~

          The rain made it hard for you to keep a good grip on your sword. The Dutchman pitched and rolled under your feet, waves crashing rougly into the sides of the hull. Its mast, tangled with the Pearl’s, loomed above you, a towering dark figure in the haze of the monsoon.

          These damned fish people. The Dutchman’s crew fought more viscously than even Barbossa’s undead pirates. Who knew starfish could be so angry? You feared that their weapons, often tarnished and jagged, would catch on your own and leave you defenseless. I should’ve stayed on the Pearl. But there are fish people there now, too.

          At least you weren’t alone. Elizabeth and Will were with you, as was Jack, though he seemed to be having difficulties of his own. If you hadn’t been fighting for your life, you might have been more amused. You had lost sight of most of your crew mates. You were too focused on the eel-headed freak in front of you to give your fellows much thought. With your swords locked, you had no other way to grapple with the beast. It hadn’t occurred to you that the eel could elongate its neck, which was exactly what it did, arching forward to bite at your face.

          A moment later, the head lay at your feet, the slimy body collapsing beside it. James was there, sword in hand, looking at you with concern. That, or he’s squinting to keep the rain out of his eyes. You gave him a nod, stepping in closer.

          “There are too many of them. We’ll never get to them all. Some of them are coming right out of the walls!” You both looked around yourselves at the endless numbers in the Dutchman’s crew.

          “We only have to kill one.” James gestured towards the other end of the ship, where Davy Jones stood, lobster claw digging into the wood of the deck.

          “We don’t have the heart.”

          “But we both know who does.” James’ face was grim. “I should’ve stabbed it while I had the chance.”

          You grabbed his arm. “No. You would be just like Jones, then, bound to this ship for eternity. You’d have no humanity left.”

          “I’d be better than I am now.”

          The comment broke your heart, but there were too many enemies around for you to focus on it. You slashed at a shark-headed monstrosity before James pulled you in close, stabbing something just behind you. Now isn’t the time for blushing. But James was holding you tightly to his chest, and you heard him shoot another member of Jones’ crew.

          You hated to let go, but you had to duck under James’ arm to go after another, and another. Your back ended up pressed against James’, and you could feel each others’ heavy breathing.

          “I don’t think we’re going to make it out of this alive.” You had to shout to be heard over the thunderous racket. Between the rain, the gunfire, and the sharp clanging of swords, there was little room for words.

          “It doesn’t seem likely.”

          “You were trying to tell me something earlier.” Rain ran down your face in streams. “Now might be your only chance.”

          James put a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “I wanted to apologize, for it all. I hope you’ll accept it.”

          “Of course.” You grabbed the pistol from his side, leveling it at a creature behind his shoulder.

          “You didn’t deserve what I did.”

          You cupped his face with a hand. “I understand why you did it.”

          “You were the only one who treated me like a person, then, on the Pearl.” He had grabbed your arm, keeping you close. It occurred to you that you were both going to die like this, paying too much attention to each other and not enough to your surroundings. “I can’t…” James took a steadying breath. “I can’t help but love you for it.”

          You barely had time to process the words before his lips were on yours. Despite the storm, and the gunfire, and the clanging of swords—despite the knowledge that neither of you were going to make it out alive—the kiss was achingly tender, with so much softness and vulnerability that tears began to slip down your already soaked cheeks.

          This won’t be such a bad way to go.

          There was a sudden shuddering of the ship, and you and James had to cling to each other to keep upright. You looked up, only to find that the Pearl had broken away, her masts now untangled from the Dutchman’s.

          You tugged at James’ arm. “We have to go. I think the ship’s going under.”

          He nodded, and you found a loose line to swing over to the Pearl. The Dutchman sank not long after you hit the deck. The ship fell beneath the waves, sucked under by the storm.

          “We still have to face Beckett.” James looked out over the water to where the British armada was advancing.

          You could already feel some of the fight leaving you. How could you withstand an armada, when you’d barely defeated the Dutchman? “At least we have each other, now.”

          James looked down at you. “Yes.” He cautiously wrapped an arm around your waist. “And after? If there is an after.”

          You smiled teasingly. “I hope you don’t mind returning to piracy.”

          James smiled back. “I don’t think I’ll mind at all.”

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #pirate #pirates #james norrington #norrington #James Norrington x reader #x reader #self insert #potc fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #potc imagine #writing #writings

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 5 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader

This is a big one babes!! Hold on tight!! 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

Contains: canon-typical discussion of violence, soft aaron hotchner supremacy 

wordcount: 1.8k

You barely saw Aaron on Sunday, despite being in his house the whole day-- Jack was practically buzzing with excitement the moment you came through the door, pulling you down to his height and wrapping his arms around your neck to squeeze you in a hug.

“Hey, little man, I’ve missed you!” You said enthusiastically, returning his hug. 

“I missed you too. And so did Daddy. He said you were sick so I drew you a feel better card,” he told you, dragging you over to the coffee table and brandishing the  piece of computer paper he’d folded in two to form a card. 

“I love it so much Jack! I feel better already. Let’s put this on the fridge, yeah?” You said, standing up and shooting Aaron a smile as you crossed the kitchen. 

“Can we play legos now?”

“Buddy, give her a second. She just got here.” Aaron tried to calm Jack down, but you waved him off. 

“Just let me put my stuff away, and I’ll meet you in your room, okay?’ You told Jack, who scurried off towards his bedroom.

Aaron must have found some other way to entertain himself, because you and Jack spent the whole morning together, only taking a break after lunch when it was time for Jack’s nap. He insisted that you put him down, and after three readings of Curious George, he was finally asleep. When you turned to leave, you saw Aaron sitting in the door jam watching you.

“He was so excited this morning you would have thought it was Christmas,” He remarks as you meet him in the doorway. 

“He’s a good kid.” You whisper, slipping out into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind the two of you.

“I’m lucky.” He agrees with you. 

“Come on, Hotchner, it’s not all luck.” You tease him good naturedly as the two of you move back to the kitchen. He saw you headed for the sink, full of dishes from lunch, and sped up to get in front of you.

“Ah, ah ah. It’s naptime.” He told you, placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you around. 

Before you could stop yourself, you stomped your foot, not entirely unlike a child who needed a nap. “Hotch, come on!” 

“We’re probably getting called on something tomorrow, and sleep will be hard to come by, and you’ll wish you’d listened to me.” He tells you.

“You’re acting like you aren’t going to bench me, regardless of whether or not we get called on a case.” You accused of him, and he at least had the good grace to try and look sheepish. “I’m not tired. Can we just watch a movie or something?” You offered a compromise, and he nodded, leading you to the couch. 

You plopped onto the couch and picked up the remote as Aaron crossed the room to grab a throw blanket for the two of you to share. He spread the blanket across the couch and sat down, and you tucked your feet underneath you, unintentionally leaning in closer to him as you flicked the TV to a movie channel. Aaron stretched his legs out in front of him, extending one arm across the end of the sofa and the other arm around the back of it, conveniently making more space for you. As Hotch had suspected, it wasn’t long before your eyelids started to get heavy. 

“The dishes…” you mumbled sleepily. 

“I’ll take care of them.” He whispered, leaning in closer so you could hear him. 

“Later. It’s naptime,” you reminded him, your head resting against his chest in sleep. His arm came to rest across your shoulders and down your side, drawing you into him. He inhaled deeply, trying not to overthink. 

You’re her superior. His brain screamed. She loves Jack, not you. She loves Jack, but that doesn’t mean she wants to raise him. You’re too old, too cranky, too much baggage. This isn’t what you think it is. As much as he wanted to make himself believe all of that, as much as he wanted to accept that even if he knew he would go through hell and back for you, he could never have you, all he could focus on in that moment was the steady puffs of breath coming from your nose and landing on his chest. He realized, with a start, that it felt like walking into the wrong classroom your senior year of high school and locking eyes with the woman you knew you were going to marry.

  Aaron’s prediction had been correct-- Monday morning had found you jetting off to Kentucky, for the murder of three county paramedics-- by the time your plane had landed, another body had dropped. A firefighter. You all climbed into SUVs from the airstrip-- Hotch and Rossi off to examine the bodies, Morgan, JJ and Prentiss to the most recent crime scene, and you and Reid to the police station to the police station to work on the geographic profile. Normally you’d be off with Hotch and Rossi, and examining a body wasn’t technically field work, but you went with Reid with minimal pouting, knowing you were lucky that Hotch had let you leave Quantico at all.

You decided to let Reid drive, and you were fiddling with the radio when he spoke for the first time. 

“I keep… thinking about what there is to say to you, to communicate how much we’re all here for you, how much we all love you and we all want what’s best for you, and it feels like everything just falls short. I have an IQ of 187 and I still can’t find the words, but I can’t say nothing. I was scared for you. I’m proud of you, and if you need anything I just want you to know I’m here. I might not have the right words but I promise to listen, and to make sure you feel heard.” The words stumble out of Spencer awkwardly, but still strike you with their sincerity. You sniffle a little before responding. 

“I know, Reid. I know how much you all care for me. I’ve never doubted that for a second. Thank you.” You tell him, your voice thick with emotion. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I am.” You tell him with a confident nod. “Or, at least, I’m getting there. I did the hard part. I got out.” 

A few hours later, you were at the police station with Reid, narrowing the geographic profile and spitballing with victimology, when one of the local officers poked his head into your makeshift office-space. 

“Another body dropped. The town librarian.” 

“Two in one day?” You asked. 

“He’s spree killing now. He’s devolving.” Reid supplemented. 

“Do you think it was random? He was killing first responders. The librarian doesn’t fit.” 

“Could be,” Reid agreed. 

“Have you called the rest of our team?” You asked the officer. 

“Not yet.” 

“We’ll call.” You told him, and he nodded. You pulled out your phone and dialed Hotch as Reid crossed the room to call JJ. 

“Hotchner,” he said into the phone. 

“Hey, it’s me. Another body just dropped.”  

“He’s devolving.” Aaron sighed

“It was the local librarian.” 

“But he was killing--” He started, but you could hear the words he was going to say before he even thought them.

“First responders, I know.” 

Aaron let out a deep sigh. “If I take Reid off of babysitting duty, are you going to behave?” He asked. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, but I reserve the right to bitch about it when this is over.” 

“Noted. Tell him to meet us at the next scene, please?” He asks of you.

“Will do. Stay safe out there.” 

“You too.” Hotch said before hanging up. 

You sent Reid off to meet up with Hotch, and sat back down in front of your case files and notes, determined to find something written between the lines. After a tortuously slow thirty minutes, a thought occurs to you. You step into the police bullpen and get the attention of one of the officers. 

“Hey. Does this town contract out its EMS services?” 

“No,” the officer tells you. “They’re all employed by the town. They’re paid with a mix of taxpayer and grant dollars.” 

“So they’re government employees?” 

“Yeah.” The officer confirms, and you pull your cell phone out of your pocket, heading out a side door to get a little bit of air and some better reception to call Garcia. 

“What’s new bugaboo?” Garcia asks as she picks up the phone, and you can’t help but smile. The sunshine felt warm on your face as you paced the empty back lot of the police station. 

“Hey, Garcia. Is there any way to track if anyone in town has some sort of anti-government bias?” 

“I can look for fringe political groups-- if the unsub is a member, that might help, but it would take me days to just search through every resident’s social media.” 

“That’s okay, start there. Look for white men between 23 and 45. If I think of anything else that might weed it out I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, kitten. Are we talking strict anarchists here, or should I be looking at groups like--” 

Garcia continued, but you couldn’t hear her over the sound of a gun cocking and the sensation of cold metal at the back of your head. You gasped. 

“Sweetie? Did you think of something?”

“It’s time to put the phone down.” A voice said from behind you. You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. 

“Who was that? Are you okay?” Garcia asked.

“Go on,” the voice said. “Hang up the phone. Don’t be dumb.” 

You hung up the phone without saying another word to Garcia. The man dragged his gun down your spine, resting it against the middle of your back. “To think, I came here thinking I might kill a couple of cops, and I ended up with an FBI agent. Talk about an upgrade.” You tried to subtly reach for your gun, but it was useless. He strikes you in the head with the barrel of his gun before you can react. “Come on, sweet thing. I told you not to play dumb with me.” 

“You really think you can kill an FBI agent outside of a fully staffed police station without getting caught? And you’re going to call me dumb?” You asked, hoping that he couldn’t hear the fear laced in your voice.

“Who said anything about not getting caught?” He chuckled. “We all die eventually. Might as well make it worth my while.”

tagging:  @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee @hotforhotchner11  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @zheezs14​

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you

[velvetcloxds]

BREATHE| D.H.

Pairing: Derek x fem! Reader

Word count:2642

Warning: mentions of abusive family member, mentions of abuse, mentions of dead body

Summary: Scott, Stiles and Isaac create a situation where Derek and the reader are forced to talk about the very obvious feelings that they have for each other.

“I don’t know,” I say softly, looking out into the hallway to check for my aunt before softly closing the door behind me, “She’s barely over the fact that I got a B on my midterm paper,” I tell him, moving my books out of the way to sit down on my bed.

“Was it bad?” Isaac asks after a second and I sigh, tracing my fingers under my eye where there should be a completely healed bruise by now.

“It’s been worse,” I answer quickly and he sighs on his end, knowing by now that I wouldn’t tell him if it actually were bad, “I’m fine Isaac, besides it would be much worse without the whole werewolf thing,,” I add, looking up when the front door shuts.

“Was that her?” Isaac asks, the tone of his voice tense. I sigh, jumping up from the bed, pulling the curtain open slightly to see her driving out of the driveway. I smile softly.

“Looks like I’ve got the house to myself for a few hours,” I tell him and hold the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I bend forward to pull my boots on.

“So, does that mean you’ll help us out tonight?” Isaac asks not missing a beat, I smile again as I stand up to grab my jacket.

“Yes, and it also means that the whole lot of you can climb down from the roof and meet me at the front door like normal people,” I say, hearing Isaac’s little laugh in the background as I end the call, the sounds of multiple footsteps on the roof following me as I make my way to the door.

“Why don’t I get to be on the roof?” I hear Stiles ask as I open the door, pulling my jacket on at the same time.

“You know why,” Derek tells him with a cold look causing Stiles roll his eyes.

“You fall down one time and you’re labelled a fall risk,” Stiles notes waving a hand around as his other hand pulls at his plaid shirt.

“It was not one time,” Derek replies very quickly becoming annoyed, “It was three times, and it was but minutes apart,” He adds and lifts a warning brow when Stiles moves to pretest.

“Good evening boys,” I interject before the little spat could continue. Isaac and Scott look over to me with small smiles and apologetic eyes as Derek and Stiles continue to stare each other down, “Derek,” I note formally, making him give Stiles one more warning gaze before locking eyes with me.

“Y/n,” He replies in the same tone after a moment, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket without breaking eye contact for even a second, “You look good,” He says simply, looking me over quickly before meeting my eyes again.

“So do you,” I say and he nods slowly, eyes raking over my face quickly before turning to Scott who is probably waiting for a moment to explain the plan. I smile to myself as I reach behind me to close the door.

“Stiles was listening to his dad’s police radio and there seems to be another body somewhere in the woods,” Scott explains and I furrow my brows at the very vague explanation.

“Is it a werewolf body? The body of someone who was murdered by a werewolf? A hunter? The body of another human sacrifice victim?” I ask, looking between all of them, their blank expressions making it clear that they don’t have an answer to my question.

“Does it matter?” Scott offers carefully and I scoff softly before nodding.

“Yes, it matters, if we’re trying to protect Beacon Hills from supernatural killers and therefore have to find this here dead person in order to that, then I’m with you. But if we’re just going on a little scavenger hunt that’s actually someone else’s job, then I’d like to inform you all that it’s very cold out here and I’m going back inside,” I say, pulling my jacket tighter against my body to emphasize my point.

“She’s right,” Derek notes and I nod at him, “You three said that this was serious and that time was of the essence and so far, it’s been a waste of my time.”

“Time you would’ve spent doing what, Derek? Brooding?” Stiles questions with a mocking smile, shifting back when Derek pulls a hand out of his pocket.

“Look it is serious, we’re not trying to waste anyone’s time,” Scott tells us and rolls his eyes when Stiles moves in behind him, keeping a hand on his shoulder as he looks over at Derek, “We think it’s one of the missing people that’s been killed by whoever’s going around sacrificing people.” He explains and hits Stiles’ hand away from his shoulder.

“Fine,” I say and step forward to walk past them and down the stairs, “We’ll separate into two groups; one group takes the right side and the other takes the left. Who wants to come with me?” I ask looking up at the four of them.

“Derek,” Isaac says very quickly and Derek looks at him with a questioning stare, “It’s either you go with Y/n or you go with Scott and Stiles,” He elaborates and then shrugs as he looks down, Scott and Stiles doing the same when I look over at them, there is definitely something going on here.

“Or Isaac and Derek could go together,” I offer, mainly just to see their reactions.

“No.” Scott says looking a little alarmed as he looks at me. “You’re not exactly Stiles’ biggest fan either. You’d murder him before we even left the yard,” He explains, stuttering in between sentences and I nod slowly, hiding a smile as the boys attempt to hide their frantic glares.

“Okay then, I guess it’s just the two of us,” I tell Derek who looks a little lost for a second as he stares down at me before he nods quickly and makes his way to my side, making sure to give the remaining boys an unplaced glare as he does.

“We’ll meet back here in half an hour, whether we find the body or not,” Derek says beginning to turn before stopping and pointing at Scott and Isaac. “Don’t let Stiles out of your sight,” He says sternly to which the boys nod, “And you, don’t be an idiot,” He adds, pointing at Stiles who is very clearly unhappy with the order. Stiles scoffs.

“I didn’t want you in my group in the first place,” He says and extends the notion towards me when he notices the smile on my lips that I was sure I’d hidden well, “Screw you, Y/n,” He adds as Scott and Isaac pull him from the steps and carefully push him towards the right direction.

“I hate the woods,” I announce softly as we still at the edge of the reserve, looking out onto endless rows of trees, “It gives me the creeps,” I add, tilting my head to get a glance of Derek’s reaction, feeling slightly less annoyed when the softest hint of a smile graces his lips.

“We’ll be out before you know it,” He tells me, not quite meeting my gaze, “You can stay close to me if it helps,” He announces with a quick glance before zipping up his jacket and starting to head off the trail. I take a second to myself, considering the idea of going into this stupid little forest following Derek of all people in there alone and let out a soft sigh.

“Wait up!” I shout, almost jogging to catch up with him despite his offer to keep close to me.

We continue like this for a while, staying close as we look around, sniffing the air for anything that could indicate that there’s a body around here, the only sound being that of our shoes crushing leaves and fallen branches as we walk.

“What?” Derek asks, stopping suddenly after I let out another tired sigh. I frown as I look up at him, “Why do you keep doing that?” He asks and points towards the zip of my jacket which I’ve been moving up and down for the last five minutes. I shrug. “And the sighing, what’s with the sighing?“ He adds in a rush, eyes large as he lets out a loud sigh of his own. I smile up at him.

“I’m bored,” I admit and he folds his arms over his chest, “And don’t even get me started on the silent searching which is driving me mad by the way. Like honestly, Derek, why won’t you talk to me?” I ask, dropping my hands from my jacket to stuff them into my pockets. He looks me over carefully before looking away.

“I don’t know,” He says after a moment and I scoff softly.

“Would you prefer it if I talked, because I have so much to say,” I tell him, taking a step to the side to catch his gaze.

“We need to find this body, Y/n,” He tells me, voice soft and distant. I shake my head, reaching a hand out to stop him from walking away.

“There’s no body, Derek. Well, I don’t think at least,” I say and he frowns, “You really didn’t notice how weird the guys were acting at the house?”

“They’re always weird.”

“Yes, but this was different. They planned this, all of this, somehow. I think they just wanted us to end up alone somewhere where we’re forced to really talk,” I explain and steady myself when my unneeded arm gesture causes me to lose balance.

“Talk about what?” He asks me and I furrow my brows in confusion.

“Don’t do that, you know about what. About you and me. About us,” I say and then shake my head when his eyes largen as a result of my words, “Don’t freak out on me, okay. Just listen,” I say carefully dropping my hand from his arm where it’s been holding him in place.

“Fine. I won’t freak out.”

“You like me,” I deadpan, mind already filling with about a thousand different ways I could’ve approached this, “I mean I think you do and that’s good because boy do I like you too. You’re just not so good with the words and the expression of the feelings and so truth be told I could be completely wrong, but I also don’t think I am. So, to be quite frank I was just curious as to when you were planning on asking me out?” I end, breathless for no reason as I carefully take in the way his expression softens, eyes raking over my face slowly, “I mean you do like me, right?” I ask, my own face softening from slight excitement to unsettled uncertainty as he remains quiet, looking between me and the trees behind me, “You don’t.” I say and let out a soft sigh, realizing how completely silly I must look making this big scene when he very clearly doesn’t feel the same at all.

“Y/n, wait…” He says quickly stupidly attempting to stop me from walking away from him even though I’m already out of reach, “Where are you going?” He asks, deciding to follow me instead.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, fighting the urge to either cry or kick his pretty little ass, “What do you care anyway?” I muse bitterly as I hear him getting closer to me.

“Will you stop?” He asks me annoyed and I feel his hands surrounding my waist to pull me to a stop in front of him, “Will you just give me a bloody minute?” He adds, breath against my neck as he holds me against his body, “If I let go, will you promise not to walk away?” He asks carefully and I nod, his hands moving back and away slowly before I turn around to face him, the seriousness in his eyes catching me by surprise, “I don’t know how to talk to you,” He starts and lets out a long sigh, “It’s like every word I know just completely disappears from my mind the second I see you. The second you smile. The second you say my stupid name. I can’t talk to you,” He explains and my lips almost immediately pull into a smile as response.

“Derek-“

“No. Just let me get this out,” He says, smiling as well as he moves his hands to my waist once again. “I think you’re amazing. You’re good and kind and you barely know anyone of us, but you’d still risk your life to help us out and you’re beautiful, which I should’ve said first, but you are. And you’re so closed off from everyone, but I can still tell exactly what you’re feeling by just looking at you, which is ridiculously unfair because as soon as I convince myself I feel one way for you it changes completely and suddenly I can’t do a bloody thing without thinking about you,” He shakes his head slightly as I let out a soft laugh, lifting my hands to his chest, “Yes, I like you. I like you so much that I feel like I can’t breathe,” He ends and I’m sure my cheeks have turned about every shade of red in but a matter of seconds.

“Breathe, Derek,” I say softly, leaning closer as my fingers move over his chest slowly.

“You’re not being fair,” He says and I can hear his heartbeat rising in pace.

“What are you going to do about it?” I ask carefully, looking up at him through my lashes, biting at my lip to draw his attention there. He smiles, a tint of rose barely touching at his cheeks before disappearing and I’d call him out on it, but the sudden strength of his hands pulling me tighter against his body has me somewhat preoccupied. He leans in as well, nose touching mine.

“This might be a start,” He whispers before catching my lips with his, kissing me slowly yet urgently as I move my hands to his neck, pulling myself even closer as the taste of mint meets my tongue.

Whistles and applause are what pulls us apart, Derek smiling against my lips before he moves away from me, loosely keeping a hand around my waist as we turn to see the boys coming up from behind us.

“I knew this would work,” Stiles announces as the three of them still in front of us. “This is why you need to let me make all of the plans, Scott, because clearly they always work,” He adds excitedly, waving his hands in the air between us. Isaac and Scott simply smiling as they look from him to us.

“I’m happy for you two,” Isaac says with an almost brotherly smile.

“Do you think they’ll have a June wedding?” Stiles asks in thought, smiling as another thought comes to mind, “Do you think we’ll have to ask her for him?” He adds and Scott nudges him when Derek growls lowly.

“We should get you home, your aunt could get home soon,” Scott tells me and we all nod in union before the tree of them turn to walk away in the direction of my house. I try to do the same, smiling when Derek pulls me back softly.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow night,” He states simply and I look up at him confused. He laughs before placing another soft kiss on my lips, “Out date.” He clarifies and smiles happily when I realize what he’s talking about, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night,” He says again and I nod.

“I’ll bring the dictionary,” I muse, laughing softly as he rolls his eyes, pulling me with him as we follow the boys home.

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubertt. Mxx.

Masterlist

#derek hale imagine #derek hale one shot #derekhale x reader #derek x reader #derek hale imagines #derek hale #teenwolf x reader #teen wolf #fluff

[ikleesfiction]

Miss Americana

Fandom : Crossover Hawaii Five-0 x Chicago PD TV Word count : 5,610 words Pairing : Steve McGarrett x Danny Williams; Jay Halstead x reader

Summary :  You met Williams-McGarrett family in Los Angeles and they introduced you to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Your boyfriend, Jay Halstead, doesn't know anything about this. Yet.

Author's note :

This is the fourth one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.

This happened after I listened to a few podcasts (1  🞂  2  🞂 3) of Scott Caan and Alex O'Loughlin, passionately talking about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. 

This fic does not comply to the canon of Hawaii Five-0 or Chicago PD. So if you don't follow one of the other, it should not be a hindrance, I think. Here's hoping that I'm right.

Disclaimer

◢◤

"Would you like another cup of coffee?

You look up from the book in your hand to the waiter addressing you.

"Oh, I would love to. But it's already my fourth cup of the day," You grimace at him. "Maybe I'll take a bottle of water, please? Cold, if you have one."

The waiter grins at you, "Sure thing," then leave with your empty cup of coffee.

You are supposed to meet your friend, Tim, at his house on The Bird Streets to work on a song. However, he got a sudden appointment and asked you to wait for his call to reschedule. So here you are, sitting at a Cafe/Bistro somewhere in Los Angeles, drinking too much coffee.

You check your watch and your phone. It's almost lunchtime, but your phone is still showing nothing. Alright then, you thought to yourself, back to the book. Your eyes immediately find the last paragraph you read on Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.

Five pages later, the waiter puts a bottle of water on your table, "Here it is. You sure you don't want another cup of coffee?" He jokes with you.

You laugh in response, "No, really, thank you."

The waiter leaves with a smile and turns to the table across from yours. That's when you notice somebody's sitting there.

"Good afternoon. Only for two?" The waiter lays two menu cards on the table.

"Four. My husband and daughter are parking the car." The man answers him with a smile. He has a little boy sitting next to him. His son, you guess, since both of them have blond hair. Their noses look similar too.

"Danno, can I have ice cream for lunch?" The boy begs his father, pointing at one of the delightful pictures on the card.

"Hmm, maybe." The father hums his reply. He exchanges a knowing glance with the waiter.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're waiting?"

"Soda!" The boy yells from his chair, who laughs at his father's glare.

"How about two glasses of orange juice?" The father checks to his son before confirming it with the waitress.

"Okay, be right back with your drinks."

After the waiter leaves, the boy begins to prattle about everything to his father. About giraffes at the zoo ("They are so tall like Dad!"), about his favorite ice cream flavors ("Cookie Dough. But I like Kame's shave ice better, Danno"), about swimming at Venice Beach ("There's a lot of people there, Danno. I like our beach more")

The boy doesn't even look like he needs to breathe. You can't help but let out a chuckle. His father looks up at you and shares a grin. "That's great, Charlie," He comments to his son.

You let their conversation become a white noise while you read your book.

At your periphery, you see someone passes by. However, you don't expect a hand to suddenly sneak your phone from the table. Your hand instantly grabs that wrist, trying to stop it from stealing your phone. But the thief forcefully pulls his hand out of your reach and moves away.

Unfortunately for the thief, he runs straight to the father at your neighboring table. The man has no problem flipping the thief over and pushes him to their table. When the thief squirms away from his clutch, the man lifts the thief's elbow high up and turns it behind his back in a very painful lock. The unpleasant sound coming out of the thief's mouth proves how excruciating it is.

The man's eyes wander. Many shocked faces are staring at him, including yours. "It's okay, I'm a cop," He explains.

In contrast to the crowd, the boy looks at his father in awe, gleefully clapping his hands.

"Charlie, why are you clapping? You're not supposed to clap at this. Oh my god, you are just like your father! Happy to see any aggression," The man rants as he takes out a cable tie from his trousers' pocket. You don't even know why he got cable ties in his pocket. He efficiently ties the perp's hands behind his back and forces him to sit.

Only then, the man addresses the crowd again, "Has anyone called 9-1-1?"

"I did. The police are on the way," One of the cafe's staff squeaks from the door, with a phone still in her hand.

"Excellent! Did you hear that? Your ride would be here soon," The man tightly squeezes the thief's shoulders. The thief could only reply with an agonized grunt.

Everybody else resumes their activities with a sporadic look to their table.

The boy picks up the stolen phone from the floor. It fell near his foot during the short scuffle. "Danno," He hands your phone over to his father.

"Ah, thanks, Charlie," The man ruffles the kid's hair and kisses the top of his head.

"I believe this is yours?" The man returns the phone to you. "Hope it's still working?" He cringes at the spiderweb marks on the phone screen.

"Thanks. Probably not. But it's alright." You smile at the man and offer to shake his hand, "Y/N Y/LN, thanks again for helping me,"

The man takes your hand, "Hey, no big deal. Danny Williams. And this is my son, Charlie," Danny brings Charlie in front of him. You extend your hand to Charlie as well.

All of a sudden, you hear voices yelling from behind you. "Danno! Charlie!"

You look back to see a tall, dark, imposing man and a beautiful teenage girl rushing in your direction. Charlie shouts back at them, "Daddy! Gracie!"

So you guess they must be Danny's husband and daughter.

This new man drops down to Charlie's level and checks on him, trying to see if he's injured. "Are you okay? Charlie?"

"Dad! Dad! Danno was soooo cool! He pushing and then flipping and then that man went aaargh!" Charlie re-tells the scene to his father, holding his elbow behind his back to show him.

Couldn't really understand his son's story, the man asks his husband to elaborate, "Danny, what's happening here? Why are you arresting this man?"

"I'm not arresting anybody, Steve. We don't have jurisdiction to make an arrest, you know? Since we are in LA, not Hawaii? I'm just holding this man until LAPD shows up," Danny clarifies to his husband, Steve.

"But why?" Steve is still confused.

"This guy here, what's your name?" Danny barks at the thief. But his mouth stays glued. "Really? Would you prefer my ex-SEAL here asking you the question?" Danny gestures in Steve's direction.

Steve stands tall. His hands are folded in front of his chest. His biceps bulge in his tight t-shirt. The thief's face turns green, looking fearful. Steve's scowl was probably not helping either.

"Danny?? What's going on here?" Steve begins to lose his patience.

"What?? It's no big deal, babe!" Danny yells back at Steve. "This guy here tried to nick this woman's phone. I'm just helping her," Danny motions in your direction.

"Y/N, here's my husband, Steve McGarrett, and our daughter, Grace," Danny continues to introduce you to his family. You shake their hands and exchanging simple pleasantries.

"As I said, I just helped Y/N to get her phone back. Now we are waiting for LAPD," Danny ends his explanation.

Shortly a police car comes, and two officers quickly take their statements. Initially, the police officers are bemused to find the thief already sat with his hands tied behind his back. After Danny explains that he is a Detective from Honolulu PD and how he prevented the attempted theft, the police officers understand the situation. They ask if you'd like to press charges on Tom Norris, that's the thief's name according to his ID. Considering you're not hurt, you decline on pressing charges. The police are gone with the thief sooner than you expected.

"Can I treat you lunch for your trouble? Shoot! A super late lunch?" You corrected after checking your watch.

"Hey, don't worry, it's no trouble at all," Danny says to you with a big smile.

"No, no, seriously. You guys were on holiday, I guess. But still bothered to help me. Lunch is the least I can do."

Before long, they arrange to get a table for five and talk a lot during the meal.

◢◤

"So you guys are from Hawaii? That's nice!" You tell the family.

"See, Danno? That's what you're supposed to say about Hawaii. You're the only one who describes Hawaii as a pineapple-infested hell hole," laments Steve to his husband.

"I'm just telling the truth, babe. How about you, Y/N? Where are you from?" Danny tries to find out.

"Originally from The Netherlands, Amsterdam. But I moved to Chicago last year," You reply.

"Now that, Steve, is a city that would appreciate seasonal changes," Danny nods his approval of Chicago.

"Only you, Danno, who whines about constant sunshine." Steve grumbles.

Grace and Charlie don't react much to their parents' bickering. Too used to their silliness. But you still find it quite funny.

"So you guys are here for vacation?" You ask the family.

"Kind of. We are on holiday. Also, we are visiting the colleges here for Grace, who will graduate high school next year," Steve throws his right arm around Grace's shoulder.

"Yes, we are on an excursion to prove to Grace that LA universities are not better than the University of Hawaii," Danny quips from Steve's left.

Grace whines at his father, "Danno..."

"Danny here doesn't want his children to be far away from him," Steve enlightens you. "But I think going to school in LA would be better than The Netherlands. Wouldn't it, babe?" Steve winks at Grace.

"Do not joke about that, Steven!" Danny elbows his husband hard.

Grace looks thoughtful for a moment, "Y/N, did you go to college in the Netherlands? What do you think my chance to study there?"

"Gracie, can I come with you to This Otherlands?" Charlie innocently chirps to his sister.

Steve is laughing so loud, even after Danny punches his arm.

"What about you, Y/N? What are you doing in LA? Are you on vacation too?" Danny questions you after the laughter receded.

"I'm here for work. Most of the time, I'd do it remotely from Chicago. But sometimes I have to make the trip here or to Amsterdam," You tell them.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a music producer," You give a simple answer.

"What instruments do you play?" Steve is curious. "Guitar?"

"Mostly piano and synthesizer. I do play guitar, but I'm just an okay guitar player. I wish I could play better,"

"Dad plays guitar too!" Charlie happily declares as he points at Steve.

You cheer at Charlie's enthusiasm, "Does he? That's great!"

"Yeah, he plays very well. Maybe Dad can teach you to play better," Charlie directs you.

"Oh, yes, that would be awesome," You wholeheartedly agree with Charlie, as the rest of the table laughing at the idea of Steve teaches music.

◢◤

"Danny, I was wondering if you could explain something to me," You turn to the man.

"Shoot," Danny nods as he puts down his juice glass.

"The arm lock that you did to the thief. Where did you learn that? Did Steve teach you that?" You ask him, genuinely want to know.

"Well, even though Steve here was the Navy SEAL," Danny glares at his husband, who replies with a smirk, "I have been working as a cop for more than 20 years now. I know some moves too,"

"But that's not a cop's move," You contradict him.

"How do you know any cop's moves?" Danny confronts you back.

"My boyfriend is a cop in Chicago," You give Danny a sheepish smile.

"Ah, I see. Did your boyfriend teach you self-defense?"

"He did. I'm nowhere near good as Jay. But it's a start," You answer Danny.

"Of course. If he's not good at it, then he's not a good cop," Danny comments without sounding too arrogant.

"Jay also taught me about guns. Personally, I don't like it, but he needs me to know about it, especially gun safety. So..." You shrug.

Danny nods his understanding, "Yeah. Be glad that he doesn't bring home grenades or other explosives," Danny gives Steve a stink eye. "Unlike some Super!SEAL here,"

Steve is immune to that look. It doesn't seem to affect him anymore.

You smile at their interaction, "Jay was an Army Ranger. After he came back, he went to Police Academy,"

"Really?" Steve looks interested.

"Oh, here we go," Danny sighs at his husband.

Steve grins but decides not to comment on it any further. He goes praising Danny instead.

"But Danny is being too modest here. He is a great fighter. Sometimes he's even better than me. Which lots of people find it surprising, considering I was a SEAL,"

"and don't you forget it, babe," Danny smirks at Steve, who returns it with a chaste kiss.

You sigh internally. Looking at the lovely couple made you miss your boyfriend, Jay.

"In all seriousness," Danny begins, "I practiced Jiu-Jitsu since high school. That's where the moves come from," He pauses to sip on his drink.

"I got my Blue Belt when I entered The Police Academy. For me, I think, I learned how to fight better in Jiu-Jitsu than what they taught us there," Danny continues.

"Do you also teach it to Grace and Charlie?" You ask the parents.

"Yeah. Danny taught them both as early as possible. Grace already got her Yellow Belt when we first met. Now she is working for her Purple Belt," Steve brags. Danny also looks so proud. Grace, though, tries so hard not to roll her eyes at her parents.

"Me too! I will get my Yellow Belt soon! Right, Danno?" Charlie exclaims.

"Of course you are kiddo. After that, you surely can beat your Dad here," Danny ruffles Charlie's hair. Steve offers his palm for a high five, but Charlie punches it instead. He giggles when Steve is faking to be hurt by Charlie's tiny fist.

"Do you think I could learn it too?" You inquire to Danny.

Danny and Steve look at each other. You're waiting for their answer, hoping that they will agree.

Before they decide anything, Grace interrupts, "We can go check out the place that Sensei Egan told us, Danno."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Steve agrees to his daughter's suggestion. "We can check that dojo for Grace, meeting the instructor. Maybe could show some moves too for y/n,"

"Okay then. Grace, share the dojo address with y/n. We can meet you there tomorrow morning, what do you say, y/n?" Danny asks you.

You're supposed to fly back to Chicago next afternoon, but what the hell, you are very interested in this offer. "Yes, sure. If you don't mind me crashing your holiday plan again?"

"No, not at all. We need to check out that place anyway." Steve waves off your worry.

Grace passes her phone to you. "You can puy your number there. I will forward you the address,"

You tap your number to Grace's phone before groaning when you remember that your phone is dead. "Could you e-mail me instead? I don't think I could replace my phone soon,"

Danny doesn't even try to hold his laugh at your poor luck.

◢◤

The next day, you take an Uber to the gym. No, it's The Dojo. You correct yourself. When you step in, Charlie is shouting at you from across the room. "Y/N!" Standing next to his sister, Charlie crazily waves at you, worried that you could not see him.

You remove your shoes, placed them accordingly at the remarked spot. Walking towards Charlie and Grace, you see the Williams-McGarrett clan wear similar outfits with other people in The Dojo. The only differences between them are their belts. Danny wears a Black Belt with a red stripe, while Steve wears a Brown Belt. Grace has Blue Belt, and Charlie has a White one. Knowing that you will do some workout, you wear a black t-shirt and training pants. Definitely a contrast in a room full of jiu-jitsu outfits.

Danny and Steve are talking to a guy on the other side of the room. This guy has a Black Belt with more stripes than Danny's, indicating that he is the instructor here.

"Hey, guys. Good morning," You greet Grace and Charlie. They reply with a big smile.

"Just out of interest, do you guys always bring your uniform on your holiday?" You gesture to Grace's clothes.

Grace laughs at your question, "It is called Gi. Yes, we are always bringing them along on holiday," She laughs again at your shocked face. "No, I'm joking. It's because we know we will visit this dojo, so we have our Gi with us,"

Soon Danny and Steve come over to your side. "Hi, y/n. So I talked to Sensei Marcus there," Danny gestures to the guy he spoke to. "We are going to follow their training for today. You can watch from the side if you're not sure you want to do it. The first hour would be the class for Kids and Teens,"

You see Grace and Charlie lining up in the center of the room with other children. They seem to be divided by belts instead of age.

"The next hour would be the adult class," Danny pauses for a moment. "If you want my suggestion, I encourage you to join the Teens class. I hope you don't feel insulted by that."

You chuckle at his words, "Not at all. I understand,"

"If it's too much, don't hesitate to stop and move aside. Everyone will understand," Steve adds.

You exhale softly, readying yourself, "Okay," before joining the line.

The first fifteen minutes, they start with stretching. So far, you have no problems with it. You practice Yoga for the last few years. You know how to stretch.

The next one, they teach you how to fall correctly. Which turns out to be a hard thing to do. At first, an instructor's assistant helps you. After a few moments, she moves away to help others. But you're still not doing it right. So Danny pulls you aside and teaches you privately for the rest of the hour.

You fall so many times until it tired you out. You cannot even get up from the mat. Your shoulders would have been bruised with so many times you landed incorrectly.

"Still interested to learn this?" Danny grabs your hand to help you get up.

Even though the lesson exhausts you, you feel great. You learn a lot, even from doing the same thing over and over again. "Hell yeah!" You grin at Danny.

"Crazy woman!" Danny pats your shoulders. Right where it hurts the most. You can't help but flinch away.

"Hurt, wasn't it? Why don't you go sit down on the outside of the mat with Charlie?"

Charlie sits on one side of the mat, a bottle of water in his hand. He is watching Grace, who has her hands on Steve's Gi, trying to throw Steve down.

Danny silently pays attention to his husband and daughter on the mat. But you can see his hands slightly move as if he's the one sparring.

Shortly, Grace has a chance to push Steve. Steve lost his balance for a moment before countering her attack. Grace would've fallen down hard if Steve didn't hanging to Grace's Gi so tight to slow her fall.

"That's great, Grace," Steve says to his daughter as he helps her up. They bow to each other to end the spar. Danny is clapping from outside the mat, "Good job, Monkey,"

Of course, you and Charlie follow Danny's example to cheer for Grace.

You still sit on the side of the mat, now also accompanied by Grace. You watch the next class practice, where Danny and Steve spar with other students for about an hour.

After the class is done, Steve taps on Danny's shoulder, "Danny, could you help me with this move?" He nods in the direction of the mat.

Danny responds with rolling eyes at his husband's antics.

Grace runs commentary in the background, "Dad didn't actually need help from Danno. However, you're not allowed to ask a higher belt to spar with. It's a sign of disrespect. But Dad and Danno often work differently between each other,"

You see Danny and Steve taking place at a ready position. It takes time before anybody falls, or one locks each other. They move fluidly. When one throws the other, they quickly bring them down along then keep them in a lock. The locks are soon countered, and they back up again. The great thing is they look like they enjoy sparring with each other. They share a laugh whenever someone throws the other or someone holds the other in a lock. You find that very interesting.

The sparring ends when Danny makes a grappling move that Steve cannot counter, so he has to tap out.

After the sparring, Steve sits back with you and his kids while Danny goes over to Sensei Marcus. Steve asks your opinion about Jiu-Jitsu, whether you're still interested to learn it.

"Very much, yeah. The first thing I will do once I'm back in Chicago is to find a Dojo," You excitedly tell Steve.

"Well, lucky for you, Sensei Marcus here knows a lot of Jiu-Jitsu instructors," All of a sudden, Danny joins your conversation. Sensei Marcus stands beside him.

"Sure, if you want to keep learning Jiu-Jitsu, I will give you some references of my fellows in Chicago," Marcus informs you.

"That would be awesome!"

Marcus shakes your hand, "Good luck!" and moves to shake hands with the rest of the Williams-McGarrett family. "Thanks for visiting our dojo. Please come again whenever you're in LA,"

They all look tired, but their smiles beam as bright as Hawaiian sunshine.

◢◤

Two weeks later, in Chicago,

You see your boyfriend's truck parked in front of your house as you walk home from the bus stop. You walk much slower than you used to. Your body is hurting all over the place, but you feel elated.

The day after you came home from Los Angeles, Jay was caught in a hard case. He had to fly out to New York and liaised with NYPD SVU to solve it.

You missed him a lot, for sure. Jay called you whenever he could for these past two weeks. Texted you every day too. But you have not got the chance to tell Jay about your new interest in Jiu-Jitsu.

After your last trip to LA, you promptly checked out the Dojo that Sensei Marcus referred to you. You were thrilled to find out that it's only fifteen minutes bus ride from your house.

You met with one of the instructors there and asked for a private class. Because that's what Danny advised you to do. "After you have a better understanding of the lessons, then I want you to go train with other people at the dojo. But for the first five or six months, you might've been better with one-on-one lessons,"

The instructor, Professor Louisa, is delighted to provide. You work on a schedule three to four times a week. The professor initially suggested only two meets in a week. But considering your occasional trip abroad for work, you prefer to do more lessons when you're in town.

This is the third week you've been learning jiu-jitsu in Chicago. Scraps and bruises are inevitable. Jay would freak out if he saw them before you could explain to him.

Jay's flight back from New York landed about two hours ago. He must've been coming directly to your place from the O'Hare. The house smells amazing when you enter the room. Following your nose leads you to the kitchen. You find your boyfriend pulling out what seems to be garlic bread from the oven, "Hey, babe. You're back!"

"Hey, you! Perfect timing!" Jay secures the tray aside before stepping closer to you. He puts one hand on your waist, the other one on your back. Moving even closer to kiss you.

His passion makes you forget your bruises for a moment. When Jay pushes you playfully, your shoulder hits the nearest wall. You instantly cry out in pain. "Argh!"

"What's wrong?" Jay stops everything he's doing to you right away.

"Nothing, I just got some bruises," You rub the pain from your shoulder.

"How come?" Jay begins to take off your t-shirt to check on the bruises, but you move away from his grasp.

"Hold on. Let me take a shower. I must've been rank from sweat. Then I'll tell you everything," You kiss Jay one more time before going to the bedroom.

As you eat the pasta primavera that Jay made, you ask him about his case in New York, "How was it?"

"It's done. We did what we have to do,"

Not interested in talking about his case, Jay interrogates you instead, "So, where did you get the bruise? I swear, I only left the city for two weeks, and you're already in trouble," Jay shakes his head.

"I'm not! I just joined this gym. Dojo, I meant. I'm taking Jiu-Jitsu lessons!" You cheerfully tell Jay.

"You what?" Jay pauses from drinking his wine.

So you told Jay the whole story. About how someone tried to snatch your phone when you're in LA. How you met the Williams-McGarrett family from Hawaii. How they got you into jiu-jitsu.

"It's so fun, Jay. Yeah, sure, I got bruises and scraps. But whenever I got stuck with my work, I go have a practice at the dojo, and then I come home feeling energized," You confess to your boyfriend.

"Really?" Jay looks at you, disbelieving.

"Uhuh," You nod as you swallow your spaghetti. "You know what, you should come and see the dojo. It might interest you too,"

"I know about martial arts, babe. I taught you how to punch, remember?" Jay reminds you.

"Yes, you did," You say in giggles, "Professor Louisa said she won't teach me how to punch,"

"Of course, Jiu-jitsu has a different approach than other martial art, say karate. Or boxing," Jay puts down his fork on the empty plate. "You sure you enjoy it?"

You hold Jay's hand and look into his eyes, "I am. This is something I want to do seriously, Jay. I admit part of it comes from you and your job. Like you always said, I need to be able to defend myself. Because you think I could get drag into your case one day,"

Jay puts his other hand on top of yours, looking somehow regretful, "Babe..."

"No, no. But I also do this for myself. Even though my body hurts, I feel great about myself. I feel more confident. It's really inspiring,"

Jay brings your hand to his lips, "Okay then, as long as you're happy with it. But I'm still going to take you to the gun range,"

You roll your eyes in response, "Of course, you will,"

◢◤

A week later, Jay walks up to The Dojo on the second floor. Someone greets him at the entrance, "Hey, man. Can I help you?"

"I suppose to pick up my girlfriend. She is training with..." Jay tries to remember the instructor's name. "Louisa?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Louisa. You must be y/n's boyfriend. I'm Professor Andy, the head of this dojo," The man offers his hand.

"Jay Halstead," Jay shakes Andy's hand.

"I think she will finish in ten minutes. You wanna see her practice?"

"Sure. If it would not be disturbing?" Jay hesitates.

"Not at all. Y/n is the only one in there right now," Andy directs Jay inside the dojo. He asks Jay to remove his shoes before stepping into the room.

Jay watches his girlfriend silently. He winces a couple times when you fall down. But he is amazed to see you immediately stand up again.

"She's resilient, your woman is,"

Jay chuckles at Andy's remark, "Yes, she is,"

Shortly after you bow to your instructor, you see Jay standing on the side with Professor Andy.

You walk towards them with a smile, "I see you met my boyfriend, Prof,"

"I did, yeah," Andy nods. "I don't think Jay would be interested in jiu-jitsu, though," He comments.

"Correction, I'm not interested to see you got thrown down repeatedly," Jay points out.

"Hey!" You hit Jay's arms as both Professors laugh at you.

"But that's how we are supposed to learn. If you don't know how to fall, you won't get back up again," Louisa says serenely.

Andy hums his agreement before ushering you out. "Alright, get out of here, you lovebird,"

When you're in the locker room, changing your Gi, Jay approaches Andy again. But before Jay could say anything, Andy hands a leaflet to him.

"Y/N told me you're a police officer. You might be interested in these classes,"

Jay takes it with a laugh, "Thanks, man. I'll check it out," He puts the leaflet on his jacket pocket and pulls out his card.

"If anything happens when Y/N is here. Or if you need anything I can help with, please give me a call," Jay sounds solemn.

Andy takes the card, "Don't worry, man. We take good care of our students here,"

"I know," Jay nods.

Soon you come out with a gym bag on your shoulder. "See you next week, Prof!"

Andy waves to the couple, "Bye, y/n. See you again, Jay!"

◢◤

Two years later,

You step out of the record store in Pilsen empty-handed, failing to find the vinyl you're looking for. You start walking west to the bus stop when you hear a commotion ahead.

You see a guy pushing people out of his way. He keeps looking behind his back like he's running from something.

"Police! Get out of the way!" You hear other voices shouting.

So this guy seems to be running from the police, you thought to yourself.

The man tries to shove you aside, but your reflex is much better. Your hands instantly grab the front of his shirt. When he tries to push you away, your right foot finds his inner left calf and sweeps him down.

When he tries to move away from your grasp, you lean down and grip his right wrist tightly with your right hand. You put your right elbow beside his right ear while your left elbow is placed underneath his elbow. Your left-hand moves to hold your right wrist from below his right hand. His arm is essentially locked when your left bicep snugs against his right tricep. You raise your elbow slightly from the surface. The more he wiggles his way out, the higher you raise his elbow from the surface, the more painful the lock is.

You hear an impressed whistle from above. When you look up, you find Jay and Hailey standing in front of you. Jay gets a huge grin on his face while Hailey is sporting a shocked look.

"Nice takedown, babe," Jay compliments you.

"Thanks. You might wanna take over from here, though," You say to your boyfriend as you hear few more steps rushing towards you.

You loosen the lock after you are sure Jay gets his hand on the perp. He grabs the suspect up from the floor and pushes him towards the wall.

You find a hand extends in front of your face, offering to help you stand up. You look up to see it was Hailey. You take her hand with a soft thanks.

Once you're back on your feet, you look around to see the other members of the Intelligence Unit staring at you. Adam, Kim, and Kevin are mirroring Hailey's initial look of surprise. Jay's boss, Hank Voight, looks impassive as always. But you catch an amused twitch at one corner of his lips.

"Man, at least give me time to feel my hand again! That bitch could break my arm, you know!" you hear the perp complaining when Jay prepares to cuff him.

Without saying anything in response, Jay folds the perp's wrist inside. The perp yells even louder because of the wristlock.

Kevin moves to take the man away from Jay before any further damage could happen. He ushers the perp right away to a nearby cop car.

Jay turns to check on his girlfriend, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You nod back at him.

"I didn't know you could do that, Y/N," Hailey tells you. "You never tell me that your girlfriend practiced any martial arts," She continues to slap Jay's shoulder.

You answer with a sheepish smile, "It's kinda new,"

"Blue Belt in Jiu-Jitsu is not "kinda new" babe," Jay elbows you playfully.

The team boss pats your shoulder once before walking back to his car, "Good job, Y/LN,"

Kim, who's partnered up with Voight today, quickly follows. But not before inviting you for drinks, "You have to tell me all about this over drinks!"

"See? Even Voight agrees. We'll make a cop-out of you soon, Y/N," Adam offers his fistbump to you.

You meet his with your fistbump but shake your head, laughing, "Not in a million years, Ruzek,"

He only replies with his laugh and walks towards Kevin and the perp.

Jay puts his arm around your shoulders with a huge smile, "C'mon, Kev and Ruz can take care of the perp for a while. Hailey and I will drop you home."

#fanfiction #h50 #chicago pd tv #steve mcgarrett x danny williams #jay halstead x reader #hawaii five-0 fic #h50 fic #chicago pd fic #jay halstead fic #reader #danny williams #charlie williams #steve mcgarrett #grace williams #jay halstead #hailey upton #kim burgess #adam ruzek #kevin atwater #hank voight #WYFTIIFFY #one shot #my writing #crossover #cross over

[luxurybrownbarbie]

What are your thoughts on Patrisse Cullors? Conservative media is having a field day with her right now. IMO she is very much deserving of scorn but its not as if this is a unique situation. She is not the first person to have more money sent to them than they know what to do with and instead of getting qualified individuals to manage it they take advantage of the lack of oversight and spend it selfishly and recklessly. It’s a shame that so many charities are mismanaged and corrupt.

You’re being very generous right now. I’d be willing to extend Patrisse any hint of grace if the people she was supposedly “campaigning” and “raising funds” for weren’t battling homelessness right now. Or if she had done anything to support them during these times. But she hasn’t.

Maybe I’m speaking from privilege here because I’ve both been in charge of funds for organizations and I’m a literal investment banker and there’s no excuses I could have given in either scenario that would be accepted, but there’s no world in which you need to give your ex-boyfriend a 200k salary for doing absolutely nothing.

It’s not like she was the head of a vanity organization that has no real world repercussions. (No shade, I love my vanity charity girlies). It was an organization borne out of the outrage of police brutality. They specifically posited themselves as an organization aimed towards making real change. And the people who were actually affected by that change have been derided and silenced by that same organization and Patrisse’s colleagues in performative activism, while they struggled to survive. So no, she doesn’t get a pass from me just because it’s easy to mismanage money. If you care, you immediately make sure the money is put to good use, and then you can think about yourself.

#please don’t try to justify her behavior #it’s truly sickening #answered

[r0tten-brainz]

hey do you want my carrie fix it au? no?

too bad!!!

Everything seemed to stop when the blood was dumped on Carrie. All the cheers and applause was cut off by shocked gasps and silence. Wide eyes stared upon the stage at their prom queen, now drenched in red sludge, her beautiful dress ruined.

Tommy Ross, the prom king, was staring at his date, some of the liquid (blood, literal blood, he realizes in horror) splashing all over his rental tuxedo. After the initial shock, anger bubbled in his chest so quickly his ears turned red and he turned to the crowd, searching for who could’ve done something so awful, his shouts of “What the hell?!” cutting through the quiet.

In the front row, George Dawson seemed to have the same reaction, he always was quick to anger but now he had a fair reason to. He was disgusted someone would do this, and almost everyone around him agreed. Almost.

It only took a minute for Norma to snort, and double over to quiet her laughter. A few others chuckled but otherwise they were alone in finding this funny.

The only one who hadn’t moved was Carrie. She was frozen, mouth agape and eyes wide. She only moved when the bucket itself came crashing down, right onto Tommy. She tried to catch him but he just collapsed onto the stage, groaning in pain.

People knew immediately something was off when she stood up straight, shoulders back and arms extending out at her sides. The ones who were laughing decided they wanted to leave, the pungent smell of the stale blood getting gross and killing their good time.

There were a few shouts of confusion and fear when the doors suddenly slammed shut and the room was flooded in red light. When one of the jocks tried to open it, he yelled in pain, like the door handle burned him.

That’s what made Tommy stir on the ground, his head aching and warmth trailing down his face. When he looked up the gym was in chaos, people screaming and trampling each other to find a way out. One guy, someone Tommy knew, had climbed up to try the window, but he was flung off like a bug. A squeaking noise made him look up and the fire sprinklers flipped on.

Murky water fell over everyone, only adding to the rotten smell permeating what with the blood also having its own stench. Tommy’s breath caught as he looked around, his eyes finally landing on Carrie.

She seemed unresponsive, barely even blinking as the chaos unfolded around her, like she was in the middle, stirring up the misfortune herself.

“Carrie- huff,” Tommy started, pulling himself up off the ground. His head spun and he nearly got sick with everything mixing around him, his stomach was never the strongest. “Carrie, we have to get you out of here.”

She didn’t move, didn’t even look at him, just tilted her chin up indignantly. The lights above them suddenly sparked, clearly not mixing well with the water. That frightened Tommy a lot, they could all die, and it seemed that’s probably what Carrie was aiming for.

“Carrie!” Tommy tried again, grabbing onto her shoulders. His breath was getting more frantic as he looked around behind him. “Carrie, listen to me. Look at me, Carrie.”

She blinked then, eyes focusing on the boy in front of her. She looked like she was on the brink of tears. When she noticed the blood flowing down his face it only made her feel worse.

“Is this why?” Her voice was quiet, if Tommy had been any further away he wouldn’t have been able to hear. “Is this why you asked me to go with you?”

A devastated look crossed over Carrie’s face. “So you could laugh at me?” Tommy gulped, really starting to feel sick now, realizing that in some sick way this was partially his fault. “She was right, I shouldn’t have come, I shouldn’t have-”

“No! Carrie, if I knew it wouldn’t have happened! I didn’t know- I swear whoever did this is dead.” He shouted, his grip on her shoulders tightening. “Please, you need to calm down. Just breathe, we can get you out of here.”

Flames caught his eye, the curtain behind them was on fire. They needed to go, now. Carrie sniffled, the tears finally falling. “They all laughed at me, they laughed…”

Tommy looked back at the crowd then back to Carrie. “No one laughed, no one did Carrie.” She let out a breath like she’d been holding it. The heat from the fire was getting unbearable.

“Do you swear?” Carrie whispered, looking up at him. She was in agony, he could see it clear on her face.

“Carrie, I swear.” Tommy holds out his arms for her, finally stepping back to lead her away from the gym. He could hear sirens approaching.

Carrie looked out a final time before the doors swung open and the students flooded out. The air was cool which was relieving to everyone. She took his hands then, and he led her off the stage out to the cool evening air.

Sue Snell pushed her way through everyone, Frank Green (notoriously known as the Beak) and George at her side, searching through the scared faces for Tommy and Carrie. “There they are!” She shouts, grabbing her friends and making their way over to the pair.

Tommy perked up at the sound of Sue’s voice, carefully leading Carrie to the grass so they could sit. Further away from everyone. Sue ran over and pulled Tommy down into a hug. Beak and George made their way over a second after, clearly left behind in the madness behind them.

Whispers were exchanged between the group, everyone sparing sympathetic glances to Carrie every once in a while. Carrie just sunk in on herself, Trying to calm herself down enough so she could walk home, figuring she messed up their night enough.

It surprised her all when they all sat around her, Tommy to her left and Sue on the other side. Beak and George settled across from them.

They didn’t talk, no one really knew what to say. It was Carrie who broke the silence. “I ruined your plans with your friends, didn’t I?”

Tommy just shook his head as he shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “No,” he assured her. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all, actually.”

Carrie blinked up at him, tears threatening to fall again but she willed them away and sank into the coat. If it was salvageable before, it’s definitely ruined now. Tommy wondered if the rental place had it in their hearts to cut them some slack.

“Carrie I- we- are so sorry,” Sue spoke up, reaching to hold her hand. “I tried to stop it, if I knew they were planning something I wouldn’t have asked, that was so cruel.” She whispered the end of her apology, like she couldn’t believe it had happened.

Carrie ducks her head. “I shouldn’t have come,” she says back. “Mama was right I shouldn’t have.” The group share worried glances, but they’ll unpack that later.

George sneers. “Don’t you think like that, it was fun at the beginning right?” Carrie glances up to him and nods. “Right! Don’t you worry, whoever did this will pay.” Frank nods along beside him, patting him on the shoulder encouragingly. “So inspiring.” Beak always did like to make a joke, to lighten the mood when things were heavy.

Tommy’s arm tucks around her, pulling Carrie closer to comfort her. “Even if it all ended bad, we’re all together, right?” He looked down to her, waiting for the response. Even now he’s pushing her gently, to get her out there. Maybe this is Tommy’s super power. She had telekinesis and he was good at making anyone comfortable, even Carrie White.

“Right,” she finished for him, which made Tommy smile. In return it made Carrie smile. Sue reached and brushed some bloody hair out of Carrie’s face.

“Wow, Sue,” Beak starts. “Before too long Carrie might steal Tommy from you curled up to him like that. Sue laughed and Carrie smiled, cheeks flushing red under the caked up blood.

Tommy grinned and shot him a look. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you beat her to it and steal me yourself, smart guy?”

Beak opened his mouth but was quickly cut off by George. “Oi! Don’t be comin’ onto my man y’ hear?” He shot back, elbowing Frank with a grin.

Tommy felt Carrie’s shoulders bouncing, but when he looked to her to see if she was crying, a small grin graced her face and quiet giggles bubbled up. Despite it all she was laughing. It made something twist in Tommy’s chest, he had to make himself look away.

“It isn’t much,” Sue starts. “But if you all wanted to stop by my house to get cleaned up, maybe we could still go to the Hive.” Carrie perks up, of course Sue was invited, why wouldn’t she be?

George whooped excitedly. “You’re a lifesaver, Susan, I really need a shake after all this.” Everyone cheered in agreement.

“Carrie?” Tommy said quietly. She looked up to him, still smiling a little. “Would that be okay?” He was so patient with her.

Commotion caught her attention though and she looked past Tommy towards the gym. The flames had been dealt with it’d seem, but that’s not what she’s looking at.

Two police officers were taking Chris Hargensen and Billy Nolan out of the school, Chris kicking and shouting the whole way to the car. Miss Collins watched them go, nothing but anger in her eyes. It only made Carrie’s smile widen. She hoped she’d never have to see Chris ever again after this.

“Yes,” she finally replied. “That seems fun.” Tommy grinned and stood, offering his hands to Carrie first to help her stand, then to Sue. “No help for me?” Frank joked. “Shut up, Beak,” Tommy joked back.

The rest of the night was filled with similar jokes, everything being kept lighthearted (lucky for Carrie, she may fall apart if anything else bad happened). The Hive was so much better than she imagined. They had delicious waffle fries, and soda flavors she didn’t know existed, she and Sue even shared an ice cream. Everything was perfect. She prayed to God that come Monday morning she wouldn’t be forgotten by Tommy Ross, or any of them.

#carrie 1976 #carrie white #tommy ross #sue snell #george dawson #frank green #the beak #fic #au #fix it fic