that all knowing look. uh huh. the doctor knows what's up

3

For @ohheylookitsyou…reader is Hotch’s niece as requested. Enjoy!

Y/N’s eyes widened as her jaw gaped as her uncle led her into the BAU. Aaron Hotchner glanced over his shoulder with a small smile. It had been forever since he had seen his niece. So, when she called and asked to visit, he was more than happy to allow it.

The niece slowly caught up to her uncle and latched onto his arm. Her awed gaze returned to Hotch’s smirking one.

“This place looks amazing,” she complimented, “This whole place is probably run on caffeine though.”
Hotch laughed as he nodded. “Let me introduce you to my team.”

Y/N nodded as he led her further into the room. The pair soon slowed down by a clump of desks. Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid glanced up. Having seen Hotch approach, Rossi left his office and made his way down.

“Y/N, these are agents Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan. This is Dr. Spencer Reid. Everybody, this is my niece, Y/N.”
“I highly doubt that,” Rossi teased holding out his hand. “David Rossi.”
She shook his hand. “Not to sound like a groupie, but I’ve read your work. As well as yours, Dr. Reid.”
Morgan quirked a brow. “Really? I don’t suppose you understood any of it.”
Y/N smirked. “All of it, actually. He explained the content quite well.”

Hotch smirked at a blushing Reid. He stood up and held out his hand. Y/N shook it.

“I-I appreciate the compliment.”

Y/N smiled sweetly at the doctor.


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Faithfully (Bucky Rockstar AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, OC Ava Barnes, Steve, Clint, Tony, Wanda.

Summary: Being on the road with your rockstar husband had it’s challenges. What if you found out he was unfaithful? (Avengers AU)

Warnings: babies, pregnancy, possible cheating, tiny bit of language, sex mentions, drinking, nudity, bit of angst, mostly fluff. 

Word Count: 3k (including lyrics)

Song Inspiration: Faithfully by Journey

Tags are at the bottom

A/N: Oof. This idea struck me like lightning. I’ve been working on another fic but felt a little stuck. This one flowed out of me in the space of a few hours. I freaking love Journey and this story! I’ve sacrificed quite a bit of sleep to finish, so I hope it was worth it!! Please let me know your thoughts! Love you guys!! :)

Masterlist

_______________________________________________________

Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

Brushing your fingertip over perfect round cheeks while marveling at gorgeous long lashes and her tiny pout, you fell in love all over again. This little person had your heart. Well. A good portion of it. Speaking of your heart…

You heard rustling in the next “room” followed by the partition sliding aside. Bucky stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing a hand over his face. His chin-length hair stuck out in ten different directions and he was clad in only a pair of boxers.

“Morning, handsome,” you greeted him with an amused smile.

He let out a groan, “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

“And…where are we?”

You chuckled, “Somewhere in the midwest, I think. St. Louis, maybe?”

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Father’s Day - Daddy’s Little Lovebug

Word Count: 1091

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Unedited and Unbeta’d

Feedback and Constructive Criticism always appreciated

Daddy’s Little Lovebug Masterlist


“You ready?” You glanced down at JoJo who was still dressed in green pajamas, shifting from foot to foot. You’d taken the time this morning to pull her hair back in a French braid to keep it out of her face, but it had already started to fall out, framing her face.

“Let’s do it!”

“Alright, let’s go!” You picked up the tray of food and nodded your head, letting her lead the way. She bounded down the hall and to your bedroom, stopping at the door. She opened it carefully, peeking inside. “Is he still asleep?”

“Uh huh.” JoJo giggled. “He’s hugging your pillow, Mommy.” You opened the door further, glancing inside and shaking your head. Dean did indeed have his arms wrapped tightly around your pillow. You’d only been out of bed a little over an hour and he was already acting like you’d been gone for an eternity.

“Go ahead.” You whispered. “We’re not gonna let him sleep all day.” JoJo skipped inside, crawling up on the bed while you waited in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. She crawled on top of Dean, who in his sleep, released the pillow and turned to grip her waist. He was used to her crawling on top of him in the middle of the night or early morning, very rarely did it ever wake him.

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His Family Doesn’t Like You

She was nervous and he could tell. They had been dating for eight months when Harry asked her to live together. He bought them a house in LA, she wanted to stay in America and LA was the compromise. His family already hardly saw him and so when he made the move they weren’t happy. 

Then Anne read somewhere that Harry had paid off her loans, and he had. Anne had read that her son paid for the mortgage on the house all on his own, and he had. Gemma had read that her brother bought her a car, which he had, but none of them knew that she refused the car, the loans, the house. 

None of them knew how much she hated that Harry gave her everything, and she could give him nothing. They all saw her as a gold digger, which was far from it. She worked hard to pay off as much as she could before Harry got a hold of her loans, she hid the bills, she did her best. But Harry snooped and found them and paid them off, it was one of their biggest fights, but no one knew. Because if she complained she seemed ungrateful, and if she didn’t she was seen as a gold digger, she couldn’t win.

He did buy their house, but she helped out. She paid bills, she paid for groceries and furniture, she really did try. And when Harry bought her the car she stood her ground, he claimed her 2004 Ford would only take her so far, and she reminded him as long as it took her from point a to point b she would be fine, when she had to reach point c they would talk.

So when their house was all set and it looked just how she wanted, Harry asked to have a house warming party. He wanted his friends to see his new life, he wanted to show off the house, the cars, but more importantly he wanted to show her off.When his family heard they offered to fly out, they wanted to meet the girl he moved across countries for, they wanted to meet the girl who was draining his bank account.

Harry could tell she was nervous, she stood next to him, her hand gripping her glass. She insisted on not drinking and settled for sparkling cider, she was never much of a drinker and she didn’t want to risk being buzzed or drunk in his families presence. Harry squeezed her hand, his free one gripping his beer, his friends and her friends were all gathered around in the house and backyard. The grill was up and running and Niall offered to be in charge.

“You’ll be fine Y/N, I promise. I love you how can they not love someone I love?” Harry smiled, his thumb rubbing circles on her palm. 

She took the last sips of her cider and set the empty glass down, “’m not good when I meet people,” she mumbled, “I get all shaky.”

“You’ll be fine, they’re lovely people,” Harry chuckled. 

“I know they raised you,” she smiled, going up on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Harry!” He heard his mother voice call, when he turned from his spot on the deck he saw her. 

Anne stood by the door with Gemma, a wide grin on her face. She rushed over hugging Harry, Gemma followed her actions, “thank you for flying us out,” Anne says, “we just left our stuff in the living room Jeff offered to take it up stairs, he’s a wonderful man.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “mum, Gem, this is Y/N,” Harry tugged on her arm lightly, pulling her in front of him. 

She smiled softly, “hello,” she says gently, “I’m Y/N it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Anne,” Anne says, her voice isn’t as soft as it was when she talked to Harry, it was slightly cold and she didn’t enjoy the way Anne’s look seemed to have hardened as well.

“I’m Gemma,” Gemma faked a smile, holding out her hand. 

She shook it and the clamped her hands together, “how was your flight?” she asked. 

“It was fine,” Anne’s answer was short and simple. 

It was silent and the air felt different, she peeked up at Harry, “Y/N just got accepted to the medical program at Stanford, in just a couple of years she’ll be a doctor,” Harry says, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend.

“So I assume you’ll be working all the time to pay that off?” Anne asked, her eyebrow raised. 

“Oh-well-I got a scholarship-and uh some-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry cut her off, “baby will you get me another beer? This one is warm.”

She nods, “would you guys like anything?”

“No.”

She turns making her way to the kitchen. She grabs the beer, taking in a deep breath. When she composes herself she walks towards the door but stops, Harry stands on the other side, his back to her as he talks to his family. 

“I just don’t get a good vibe from her Harry,” Gemma says softly. 

“She just wants money,” Anne whispered, “how can you not see that?”

“No she doesn’t-”

“Harry if a guy paid my loans, bought me a house, a car, medical school, and clothes I would stay with him as well, she likes you for your money,” Gemma says, her hand resting on Harry’s arm, “her intentions aren’t good. I’m sure she got into Stanford because of you, she’s using the benefits.”

“You guys don’t know her,” Harry snapped. 

And he was right, they didn’t know her. They didn’t know how she worked three jobs to save up to try and be the one to pay for their bill, they didn’t know how stressed Harry was every night you had a late shift. They didn’t know how much effort she put into school, into work, and then to come back home and help Harry cook. They didn’t know how Harry watched her fall asleep at the dinning table after she had worked, gone to school, worked another shift, and if she beat him home she would cook. They didn’t know how all of winter break she spent it working because she wanted to repay Harry for the loans and when she tried he refused. 

“I have money, I have so much I don’t know what to do with it, I paid your loans Gem, I have everything I need, I hate watching her work all the fucking time to pay off something I could do in a second. I hate her working three different jobs so she can buy a damn dress to show up to one of my parities when I could buy it for her and she can spends that time with me rather than serving some strangers in a diner or working at a clothing store,” Harry stated, “I love her and that’s why I do it. She doesn’t ask me for these things, I do them because it makes her less stressed. I do it for her.”

“Y/N is using you,” Anne whispered, “and now she’s taken you away from your family. Harry honey, I’ve been your age, I’ve been in love and I was blinded by it. Please just take a minute and think about it, really think about it.”

“She’s a gold digger,” Gemma says. 

And that’s when she’s break, the small sob that had been forming in her throat leaves her mouth, her hand reaching up to try and muffle it, but they all turn. She quickly turns, pushing through people and running up the stairs to their shared bedroom. She turns, locking the door behind her and pressing her back to it.

“Y/N,” Harry says softly, knocking on the door, “baby, please let me in.”

“I-I just need a minute,” she sniffled, “I-uh-I spilled something.”

“Y/N I know you heard,” Harry says, “please open up.”

She pulled open the door and Harry pushes it, forcing himself in. He frowns seeing her in the state, her eyes red, cheeks pink and puffy, tears are evident and she reaches up wiping them quickly. 

“We should go back to the party, I’m a little hungry,” she whispered, pulling the end of her cardigan and wiping the under parts of her eyes, “if my makeup smudged?”

“Baby,” Harry says, reaching for her, “I’m sorry. They have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“Please don’t,” she pulls away, “I just need-Harry it’s your family. I can’t come in between that I just-I can’t.”

“They’ll come around,” Harry says, “I’ll talk to them. Don’t-I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I can still apply to live in campus and maybe this will give us space-”

“No!” Harry yelled, running a hand threw his hair, “please. Just-y/n baby, please don’t say that.”

“Harry-”

“Just give it time, I can talk to them, they can see the real you, not the you the media portray’s,” Harry pleads. 

He reaches out for her once more and she doesn’t pull back. His arms wrap around her and she rest her head on his chest, “I love you,” Harry whispered, “and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you too,” she whispers into his shirt, “so much.”

“I know,” he nods, running a hand through her hair, “I know baby.”

They stand there, enjoying their embrace. Until she pulls away, tugging at her dress, making sure she looks decent, “we should go back,” she says, “I should probably take out the dessert so people can start to wrap it up.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Harry promises, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” she giggled, as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her, “Harry we have to go back downstairs!”

He rocks her side to side, picking her up, she laughs, “Harry!” 

“I just want you to go downstairs in a good mood,” he admits, setting her down, but keeping his grip on her, “why don’t you go help Niall huh?”

“Okay,” she nods. 

They make their way downstairs and she walks towards Niall at the grill. Harry leans against the wall watching her, “Harry,” Gemma says, walking up to him, a beer in her hand, “can we talk about this.”

“If you and mum are staying here, in our house, you will follow or rules,” Harry snaps, turning to the two of them, “treat her the way you want to be treated. You want to be cold towards her? Fine, but that will only create distance between us.”

Work it Out

Bucky x Reader

Summary: after pulling a muscle on a mission, you need to stretch out your leg while working out. But you need help to do so. There’s only one person around to help.

Word Count: 2595 (I got carried away!)

Warnings: language + references to smut + angst

A/N: I have so much unfinished hw and I’m writing a fanfic. honestly I should just drop out I can’t anymore w school. anyway, enjoy 💛


“That bad?” Wanda says, chuckling breathlessly. I shake my head. A familiar pain strikes through my thigh and I wince. Wanda looks at me in concern. “Stop.” she says. I look at her for a moment, almost limping on the treadmill, before pressing the “Stop” button and letting the conveyer belt slow to a halt. She finishes her own as well, wiping the sheet of sweat off her forehead.

“He literally ate his rice with his hands.” I sigh. Wanda raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know when the dating pool shrunk to all the losers.” I shake my head.

“Well, don’t take it out in your workout.” she says. “At least not until your muscle has healed.” I roll my eyes. “Doctor’s orders!” she says impatiently. I stick my tongue out at her and she smiles. “Well, I’m done anyway. Tony organized a dinner.” I tilt my head.

“Tony did something nice? What’s the catch?” I say. She shrugs.

“I think Pepper kinda forced him to. He said something about bonding, and I knew there was no way he had decided to do this on his own account.” I smile, shaking my head. “I’m gonna go clean up. Make sure to be down by seven.” I nod and bid her farewell. “And please take it easy on the workout.” she says, exiting the gym.

I bite my lip and turn around, looking for the next thing to do. After a moment, I decide to work on my combat by the punching bags. I cover my hands first so I don’t hurt myself, then begin punching at the sand bag, grunting with each blow. I use my left leg to kick, keeping use of my right minimal, like my doctor said to. My elbows strike the bag over and over, letting out my pent up anger. My stupid muscle was keeping me from going on the missions. I’m stuck in the compound and the best thing I can do is watch Netflix. I’m dead weight until my leg heals, and there’s no telling when that will be. My mind goes back to the first time I had to sit out on an assignment, five days ago.

We were about to leave for a mission, practically walking out the door as we finished gearing up. It had been a day since my doctor told me I hurt my leg. I was limping slightly, as the pain had turned into a dull ache. I pull on my jacket and look around at my teammates. Everyone is preparing, tucking guns into their jeans, putting in earpieces. I notice Bucky looking at me for a moment, but I don’t give it any notice, because he soon calls Steve over to him. I return to my prep, sliding a small dagger into my boot. I turn around, ready to leave, and nearly crash straight into a chest. My feet stumbled back and my eyes meet Steve’s concerned ones.

“What?” I say, furrowing my eyebrows. He folds his arms and looks down at my leg.

“I think you should maybe sit this one out, Y/N.” he says firmly. I stare at him incredulously.

“What?” I say, shaking my head. “No, I’m fine, Steve. I can handle myself.” He purses his lips.

“And if you can’t?” I tilt my head at him.

“I’m trained, Steve. I can handle a leg.” I say, looking at him stubbornly.

“I can’t risk you getting caught out there. You know they’ll take advantage of any of our weaknesses.” I step back.

“I’m a weakness?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to get hurt.” I exhale sharply, looking around at everyone else. Nat’s lips are pursed, looking at me identically to the way Steve is. Everyone has stopped what they’re doing to tune into the conversation, looking at me like I’m a child. Everyone except Bucky.

“You gotta be kidding me.” I say, setting my gaze on each one of them.

“He’s right, Y/N.” Tony says, his voice muffled by his suit. “It won’t help anyone if your leg acts up and you fall on your ass. That’s bad enough, now add the responsibility of innocents and the threat of HYDRA.” My nose flares, because I know they’re right. I silently throw off my jacket and limp back to the elevator.


“Y/N!” someone yells from behind me. I snap out of my thoughts and stop beating the bag in front of me, turning around. Bucky is standing by the Dumbbells, concern obvious on his face. “Are you alright?” he says. I breathe heavily and look down at my wrapped feet, wondering how long he was calling me for.

“Fine.” I mutter, turning back to the punching bag. I feel his eyes burning into the back of my head and huff. Great, I think, now I can’t concentrate. I straighten my posture and swallow, still knowing that he’s watching me. Ignore, ignore, ignore. I begin punching again, trying to keep from making any grunts of effort. I’m back into a routine, this time not out of anger, but out of genuine focus. I’m in the zone, pretending to deface a HYDRA junkie, making him call for his mom. I get too excited, because I jump up and do a 360, sticking out my leg—my right leg—to kick in midair. My hamstring protests, causing a jolting pierce to run up my leg. I yelp and fall to the ground, landing on my knee. “Shit.” I mutter. From the other side of the gym, I hear something falls and footsteps approach.

“Y/N?” Bucky says. “What’s wrong?” I wince and pull my legs out from underneath me, laying them out,

“Uh, hurt my leg.” I groan. His brows furrow in worry.

“How bad?” he says, his eyes darting around my leg. He sits down on his knees beside me, his hands frozen in the air, unsure of where to go.

“Think I disturbed the healing or something. Doctor kind of expected it to happen, considering I work in combat.” I sigh, the pain not subsiding.

“What can I do?” Bucky says hesitantly. There is already a polite decline leaving my mouth when I cut myself off. Shit. My face visibly shows me cringing at the words I have to say.

“Uh… My doctor said to do an exercise.” I mumble, looking down at my lap.

“What is it?” Bucky says. I sigh and run my hand over my face.

“I have to lie down and keep my legs straight, and, uh, another person has to lift my leg up really slowly and to stop when it starts to hurt. And, um, keep doing that until I can get my leg to a 90 degree angle.“ I breathe. Bucky itches the back of his neck. “You don’t have to—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m not just gonna leave you here.” he says. I keep from gritting my teeth. I kinda wish you would. It would save an incredible amount of awkwardness.

“Um. Ok.” My face turns hot as I lie down on my back with my hands at my sides. Bucky shuffles over, still sitting on the ground.

“Right leg?” he asks. I nod, watching my chest rise and fall. He gets up and leans down, taking my ankle in his hands. My breath nearly hitches at the contrast of his cold metal hand and his humanly warm flesh one. It makes goosebumps rise on my entire body. His eyes meet mine as he stands back up slowly, taking my leg with him. I internally throw profanities at myself for deciding to wear gym shorts. What’s wrong with sweats, huh? “Tell me when it hurts.” Bucky says quietly. I bite down nervously on my bottom lip. He slowly lifts my leg up, the movement of his fingers on my skin making my legs clench, which is infuriating because it makes my thigh hurt. Every move he makes, I can feel it like I’m watching it. But all I can see is my own chest and most of Bucky’s face. He looks right at me, watching for any sign of pain. Once my leg has reached the same height as wear I imagine his belly button would be, I wince and bend my knee for a split second. Bucky re-straightens it, skimming his flesh hand to my kneecap and gently pushing it down. He kneels back to the floor and sets my leg on the ground without letting go of it. He rises again, slowly, making his way back up. My fingers are digging into the mat underneath me, begging for this to be over before I do something stupid. I try to stare up at the ceiling, but it’s so difficult when I know I could be staring to his marble-like eyes instead. And that’s precisely what I do. My leg reaches his chest before the back of my thigh stretches painfully. I narrow my eyes and breathe in sharply.

“Um, it hurts.” I whisper. He stops and proceeds to repeat the protocol, kneeling and rising. The only times my eyes leave his are when they disappear behind my chest, setting my ankle down. The process repeats four more times, dead silence consuming the gym. The only sounds are my erratically beating heart, my murmurs telling him that my leg hurts, and my foot gently touching the floor. On the last time, my leg is nearly there, and when he takes a step closer to me to reach my leg easier, I nearly stop breathing. He’s towering over me, his orbs staring at me softly. He smiles slightly.

“There we go.” he says. I look at my leg and realize that it’s reached the 90 degree angle. I open my mouth, then close it. His hands roam down the back of my shin as he backs up and lays my limb back on the floor, reaching an arm out to help me up. I slowly lift my hand and take his flesh one, letting him haul me off the ground. We’re standing unbearably close, is hand on my forearm.

“Thank you.” I whisper, looking down. He nods his head and slides his hand back the way it came, down my wrist, through my hand, lightly applying pressure on my fingertips before stepping away. I take a long breath in before beginning to walk. I don’t let the breath out until I’ve safely reached my room, locking it and collapsing onto my bed.


I only have about twenty minutes to get ready for dinner, so I take an impossibly quick shower—desperately trying to wash away the tingling on my right leg— and change into a pair of dark skinny jeans and a cream colored blouse. I brush my hair and leave it down to air dry, as I don’t have time to do it. I get out of my room just in time and head down the lounge. It’s modern and sleek with grey couches and smooth wooden floors. On the other end of the room, there’s a mountain of food neatly placed on the board glass dining table. The food is surrounded by empty dinner plates and cutlery. The rest of the team have just made it, talking to one another and taking their seats. I can’t help but smile. As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t blame them for keeping me off the missions. I feel grateful that they care about me enough to put my safety before the given assignment. Nat notices me standing at the entrance of the room and smiles, gesturing for me to approach. I do, greeting everyone in a friendly manner as I take a seat between Sam and Clint, breathing in the sweet scent of fresh food and laying a towel out on my lap. Most of it hasn’t been uncovered yet, still blanketed with a silverware dome. Chatter echoes around the table, but I stay silent, watching the plates being uncovered by outstretched hands, taking in the sight. Rice, ribs, steak, pasta. Every dinner food I can think of is stretched out on the table. I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. I look over to Sam, whose looking at me mischievously. I narrow my eyes. “What?” I ask testingly. He smiles and props his cheek on his knuckles.

“I saw quite the sight earlier.” he says quietly. My eyebrows knit into a confused frown. “I saw you,” he pauses, “gettin’ all touchy with Barnes in the gym.” My eyes widen. I hear an irritating clink behind and look over to see Barton has dropped his glass of champagne. It leaks all over the glass, but no one seems to notice. He’s staring at Sam with his eyes wide. My head whips back to Sam and I give him a deadly glare. He doesn’t even look at me, but instead smiles at Clint.

“You had a thing with Barnes?” he says. I close my eyes at the volume of his voice and nearly off myself right there. The chatter at the table comes to an abrupt halt at the sentence. I’ve never been happier to not have Bucky at the table.

“No,” I croak, “I didn’t.” Tony giggles like a child. My eyes fly open and I look at him testingly. “I didn’t.”

“Then what the hell did I see?” Sam says. I swallow and look down.

“I hurt my leg. He was helping me stretch.” I say quietly. Tony makes an uh-hu and I grit my teeth.

“Stop.” I say. Sam and Tony have childish smirks on their faces that I wish I could punch clean off. Everyone else looks at me with raised eyebrows or widened eyes. “Nothing happened.” I mumble. Sam shrugs.

“Here he comes. We’ll just ask him ourselves.” Tony says. My breathing pattern disorients as I look behind me to see Bucky coming through the hall, shaking out his wet hair like a dog. I want to sink back into my chair and become one with it, completely out of sight and finished with this situation. “Hey, Barnes, what were you doing with Y/N in the gym?” Tony says. I barely look at him, just enough to see his face. He raises an eyebrow.

“Working out?” he says, like its the only possible thing that could’ve happened. I mean, it is. Of course it is. “That’s not what I saw.” Sam says, tilting his head at Bucky. I feel a lump form in my throat as Bucky looks at me in confusion.

“She hurt her thigh. I was helping her stretch.” he says, squinting.

“Mmhhmm.” Tony says. “I bet you help her stretch all the time.” I stiffen, looking around the table. Clint, Sam, and Tony giggle profusely. Steve is tugging at his lips to keep a smile from reaching them. Wanda and Nat look at me in surprise. I breathe in and look down, suddenly disheartened.

“You know what, guys?” I say quietly, standing up and folding the towel on the table. “Have a great dinner.” I push my chair out with the back of my knees. The boys aren’t laughing anymore. The table’s eyes are on me. I shuffle out of the chair and turn around, walking past Bucky, brushing his shoulder and trying not to stare at his concerned face. My feet thump, carrying me back to my room, locking the door and sitting on the end of my bed, a sigh escaping my lips.

Time To Fess Up

Originally posted by sherrykinss

Request: for the anon who asked for a “Reid x reader where they are both in the BAU and are in love with each other but haven’t confessed. Reader thinks Reid is in love with Maeve (or someone else, totally up to you) so starts to distance herself and then Spencer confronts her and they both give this romantic, fluffy confession.”

A/N: Ok wow. This one has been sitting in the inbox for quite awhile and I feel bad about that. Finals really burnt me out and then I feel into the worse writing slump that I’ve ever had, but I’m happy to have finished this one and hopefully the slump might be ending! Anyways, this one is probably a smidgen more angsty than I intended for it to be, but it’s cute and fluffy at the end I promise! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: honestly other than some angst and maybe one curse word, there’s nothing to warn you about

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: PG


“No! It has nothing to do with that,” Spencer laughed, resting the phone between his shoulder and head, trying to do his paperwork while continuing his conversation. You sighed in frustration and stirred more coffee into your coffee.  You’d joined the BAU team almost two years ago and had immediately clicked with all of the team members, particularly Spencer. Friendship had led to inevitable feelings for you, but there was one problem. You’d fallen into the friend-zone. This was breaking your heart. (Not Spencer being happy of course, that was the only good thing that had come out of all of this situation.) It was the cause of that happiness that was the source of your loathing. Maeve. Spencer had confided in you about her months ago, when you’d noticed him disappearing four hours a few times a week. You know what, it was fine when she was some disembodied voice on a telephone, but when she became a real person who the team had worked their asses off to bring back from an abduction alive it was your worst nightmare. That was when you’d realized he was in love with her. 

“(Y/N)!”, JJ said waving a hand in front of your face. You snapped out of the trance you hadn’t realized you’d fallen into and shook your head. 

“What’s up, Jayje?” you asked plastering a fake smile on your face. 

“Just bringing you more of those transfer forms that you were asking for,” she replied placing the stack of paperwork on your desk. “So, you’re really doing this huh?” she commented, leaning against her chair. 

“I’ll call you back,” Spencer said quickly hanging up the phone. 

“What’s going?” he asked leaning forward to gain you and JJ’s attention. 

“(Y/N)’s-”

“Late for meeting Morgan at the gym, so you’ll have to excuse me,” you said cutting her off as you stood up. “Not a word,” you muttered in her ear. “Have a nice day, JJ. Reid,” you replied curtly before making a b-line for the elevator. Spencer flinched at the short tone you had used with him and glanced at the stack of papers on your desk. 

“JJ, what was that about?” 

“(Y/N) asked me not to say,” she mumbled, smoothing out her skirt and collected the finished report from the last case that was sitting on your desk. 

“I’m not talking about this transfer or whatever it is you two are doing,” he said, crossing over to her, “I’m talking about why she has been giving me the cold shoulder.”

“Spence she’s not-”

“Please don’t lie to me,” he pleaded, “I just want to know what awful thing I did to make my best friend hate me.”

“Best friend or girl you are secretly in love with?” JJ asked before she could stop herself. “That’s not fair,” Spencer snapped, looking down. 

“Well, my question is still valid although you seem to have found someone who sparks your interest more these days”

“Maeve is just a friend. How many times do I have to say that?”

“A friend who you can’t go one day without talking to for at least an hour?”  

“I value her opinion.”

“There used to be someone else’s opinion you valued above everyone’s and she’s not going to be around much longer,” JJ hinted, subtly trying to clue him in without explicitly telling him. 

“JJ, what are you talking about?”

“Spence, I love you. You know I do, but this is something that you are going to have figure out for yourself or you are going to lose one of the best things that ever happened to you,” she replied, before walking back to her office leaving Spencer standing in the middle of the bullpen more confused than when the conversation started.


“Hey there Pretty Girl,” Morgan called as you strolled into the gym.

“Hey hot stuff, sorry I’m late. I had to discuss something with JJ and then change,” you explained, dropping your gym bag by the door. You’d swapped your usual work attire for a loose tank top, cropped yoga pants, and your Nikes. 

“Not a problem, I’ve got the whole afternoon open,” he replied, leaning against the wall. You laughed and stretched your arms over your head. Other than Spencer, you considered Morgan to be your best friend. “So you gonna tell me what this is really about?”

“Time for a little brush up on hand to hand. The last case was a little too close for comfort,” you lied. In reality, you were looking for an outlet to take out some aggression. 

“Uh huh,” Morgan muttered, clearly unconvinced. 

“Ready? Go,” you said lunging for him in an attempt to derail his train of thought. Derek knew you too well and simply side stepped. You turned on a dime and swung your leg toward his knees. He caught your foot in his hand and shoved you backward. You and Derek had been sparring together since you joined the team, and in that time you’d only beaten him once. In your current distracted state, you had no chance of winning. You steadied yourself and kicked again, this time swinging your leg up to strike his face. 

“So you asking for a transfer has nothing to do with Reid hanging around Maeve?” His question made you freeze up, foot stopping right next to his face, instead of following through. 

“What?” you demanded, still frozen. 

“Your ‘oh so secret transfer’, does it or does it not have something to do with Reid,” he asked, pushing your foot down to the ground. 

“How do you know about that?”

“Did you really think Penelope wouldn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think she would see it until it was too late,” you grumbled, crossing your arms.

“How long has Hotch been sitting on that paperwork?”

“The first part, a week. I just turned in the rest of it earlier and I guarantee he’s going to hold it as long as he can or until I force him to file it. He’s not happy about this.”

“I don’t blame him. The team is losing a damn good agent and profiler,” Derek replied. 

“The team will be fine,” you insisted, grabbing your bag from where you’d dropped it, “Don’t try to talk me out of this, I’ve already made up my mind.”

“(Y/N), no one wants you to go but we want you to be happy,” he said walking over to you. “I’m just questioning whether or not this will make you happy.”

“I’m happy. It’s just time for a change,” you said slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I have to go.”

“In more ways than one it would seem,” Derek replied, tugging you into his arms, “if you do this, I’m gonna miss you, Pretty girl.”

“I’ll miss you too,” you told him sincerely squeezing his muscular form, “but there is no if. I’m doing this.” You strode out of the gym, shoulders only slumping slightly as you questioned your decision. You sprinted to your car and drove like mad to get home. You were desperate to shake that little seed of doubt that Derek had planted in your mind about your decision before it had time to take root. “Oreo,” you called to your kitty as you opened your apartment door, “I’m sorry I’m late. Are you hungry?” you spoke as you passed through the entry but froze. Spencer was sitting on your couch with your cat curled up in his lap, just purring away. A bowl of popcorn and two beers had been casually placed on your coffee table, while Doctor Who played in the background. “Um, Spence?” you muttered, mentally kicking yourself for giving him the spare key to your apartment. The sound of your voice finally caused him to look up from the book. 

“Oh (Y/N), hi,” he said closing the book and setting it on the back of the couch. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, dropping your gym bag and purse on the ground before heading to the kitchen to start dinner for yourself. 

“Well, I thought since we have the day off tomorrow, maybe we could do movie night?” he asked glancing over at you.

“Movie night?” you snorted, “We only do that when one of us is upset.” You shifted your weight from foot to foot as you filled a pan with water, and you could feel him staring at you. “I’m fine.”

“Clearly you’re not,” he insisted, getting up and walking to the kitchen much to Oreo’s chagrin. She pouted as she hopped up on the counter and sat by her food bowl. You shook your head at her before filling the bowl. “You’re upset about something, there’s talk of some kind of transfer, and on top of all that you’re avoiding me.”

“I am not,” you mumbled, setting the pot down on the cooktop, “I’m just working some stuff out.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s what?”

“C’mon (Y/N), I know you. You don’t do anything without getting other people’s opinions.”

“Spencer, you are the smartest person I know. So why don’t you use that big genius brain of yours, to put all that information together and figure out why I wouldn’t tell anyone,” you said turning to face him. He scrunched his eyebrows up together and you watched as the realization washed over his face.

“You’re leaving?”

“Probably,” you muttered, grabbing a box of spaghetti out of the pantry.

“Why? When? Where?” he asked, trying to deal with the new information. 

“Sex crimes,” you replied, breaking the spaghetti over the pot, “Remember Hotch leant me to them a month ago. Before I left, Agent Tyler told me if I ever was done with BAU there’d be a job open for me in his department and I’ve decided it’s time to move on.”

“But why? I don’t understand. You were happy until like a month ago,” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

“A lot can change in a month,” you mumbled, reaching over and smoothing a hand over Oreo’s fur.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t do that,” Spencer groaned, snatching your hand, “Don’t shut me out when I’m just trying to understand-”

“Well, this is one thing you can understand,” you insisted. 

“Then explain it to me.”

“Not possible.”

“Why? You just said that I’m the smartest person you know.”

“Spencer, please. I am trying not to hurt you.”

“You’re already hurting me by shutting me out, so just say it!”

“I’m in love with you, damn it,” you shouted, tearing your hand away from him and wrapping both arms around yourself. Spencer froze and just stared at you. There was no way that those words had come out of your mouth, no way. Right?

“What did you say?” he asked hesitantly. 

“I’m in love with you,” you repeated still hugging yourself, “and watching you fall in love with someone else is slowly killing me. I can’t do it anymore. You wanted to know, so there it is laid out plain as day. I know it’s my own fault for falling in love with my best friend who could never possibly into me that way, but I did and now that’s something that I’m going to have to deal with. I’m-” you were trying to explain but were abruptly cut off when Spencer took your face in his hands and pressed your lips together. It was your turn to freeze be confused. You settled into the kiss after a few seconds and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don’t understand,” you muttered as you both pulled away to get some air. 

“Well, I thought that would have cleared some things up,”  Spencer chuckled, pressing his lips against your forehead, “but I didn’t just come here to have movie night. I came here to tell you something that I should’ve told you a long time ago, and now that you’ve expressed a positive sentiment about me this will go much more smoothly for me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, to put it plainly, a few of our coworkers knocked some sense into me in regards to feeling but JJ really hit the nail on the head. She made it obvious that I was being a coward. I was content to watch the girl that had dazzled me and ensnared my heart from the moment I met her go about her life and make connections with other people without ever stepping up and going after what I wanted. Her. I did a lot of thinking this afternoon, and I realized that she was right. I had sat by and watched you live life, date other people, have fun, while I sat on the sidelines content that if I couldn’t be with you the way I wanted to be that I could still be in your life. I could live with that, but what I can’t do is be without you in my life. You make me a better person, inspire me to do things I never would’ve dreamed of doing, listen to me when I ramble or blurt out facts, and so many other wonderful things. I’m in love with you (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I am whole heartedly and undeniably in love with you. So, here I am laying my heart out for you and hoping that, if you’ll have me, you’d be willing to hold onto that heart even though you’ve already had it for quite some time,” he replied, holding you close, smoothing a hand over your cheek and wiping away a tear that had fallen from you eye. You were speechless the confession was so beautiful. Without a second thought, you crashed your lips into his and tangled a hand in his hair. He responded immediately, arms tightening around your waist. “I’m hoping that’s a yes,” he chuckled as you parted again. 

“Well duh,” you giggled and tried to stop the happy tears from running down your face as you brushed the hair away from his face. “I’m sorry I’m crying, I’m just really happy.”

“Happy tears are good.”

“I thought you and Maeve were-”

“Ah yes, that. When it first started, I think she and I were both actually considering a relationship of the romantic variety but we both realized that we were trying to replace other people who we were actually in love with,” he explained. 

“Well, I- oh crap.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I guess I should call Hotch to see if I can cancel that transfer.”

“I think you’re safe.”

“Why’s that?”

“I think Hotch hasn’t actually filed the forms yet. Penelope was snooping through the files on his computer when she found the email.”

“Well, everythign seems to have worked itself out,” you chirped happily, “and seeing as you’re here, still want to do movie night?”

“Absolutely, but first. These are for you,” Spencer said producing a bouquet of flowers from the sleeve of his cardigan. 

“How did you do that?” you laughed, taking the flowers and setting them in the vase on the counter. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“How on earth did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“I ask myself that question every single day,” Spencer admitted and kissed you again. 

Nice to see y'all are enjoying these time traveling shenanigans just as much as I am! (・ω・)ノ

————

ZENYATTA:
He was assigned to you in the beginning, as a councilor of sorts. That was something he would never mind doing; he enjoyed helping anyone who wanted it.

However, something about you seemed different than others he had worked with.

Yes, you were frazzled- an expected response- but you accepted him, trusted him, at a much faster rate than he was used to.

It was……..refreshing?

Either way, you quickly became one of his favorite students and closest friends. His team of two suddenly became a group of three, and he was left with a confusing feeling, striking him silent in the most peculiar moments.

“You called me master?” Genji peaks around the open door leading out to a close grassy cliff side, perfect for meditation.

“Yes, do you have time to speak with me?” Zenyatta sits there, petting a stray cat in his lap, under the shade of a large tree.

“I do.” He settles next to his master, cross legged as always. “May I ask about what?”

“Of course,” he rests his hand on the back of the purring cat, “I wish to speak of my emotions. They have become more and more confusing as time passes.”

Genji nods in agreement. “I understand. I will do my best to help you master.” He folds his hands in his lap. If he was being honest, he didn’t feel anywhere near qualified to assist him.

“I am glad.” He hums, “Now where to begin?” He taps his chin. “Perhaps the warmth in my chest.”

“Warmth? Are you sure it is emotion causing it?”

“Yes. I had a doctor check it.” He sets his hand on his chest plate, “I believe it is caused by my body overworking itself due to unknown circumstances. It is a feeling akin to a fierce battle; though, one is not occurring at the time.”

“And, when does it happen?”

“During the normalities of my daily routine.” He lowers his hand and glances at it, “There are times as well were I cannot think, or am forgetful. Though, it is not happening now.”

“That is interesting. You still have no idea what the cause is?”

“No.” He sighs. “Do you have any suggestions, my student?”

“I am not sure. Human and Omnic emotions sometimes differ,” he pauses, “however, if you were human, I would think that you were either sick, or had a crush.”

“A crush?” It was more of a statement than a question. “Yes, that would make sense.”

“It would? But, on who?” Though he tried to hide it, his extreme curiosity coated his words.

“Hmm. Perhaps [y/n].” He begins to pet the cat again, and it lets out a contempt chirp. “Yes, as I think about it, I believe it is correct.” He beams at Genji. “Thank you.”

“It is no problem.”

GENJI:
Good friends, to Genji, were hard to come by. Sure, he had many acquaintances, but not many people above that.

It took maybe a day of knowing each other to move into friendship. He was ecstatic, to say the least, to find someone so fond of his presence, and who would also laugh at his lame jokes (to which he told a lot).

“High five!” You boast, and he complies, following it up with a fist bump. Childish, he knew, but he was allowed to be such. “Haha! Nice.”

“No fair!” Lúcio fakes a huff. “I’m not used to going on three! I panicked!”

“Okay, my turn.” You place your fist in your palm, determination in your eyes, “Me and you, death match.”

“I will not lose to you again!” He readies his stance, Angela counts down, and you both release your weapons.

“Paper beats rock, Genji wins.” She announces.

Lúcio knowingly sets his hand on your shoulder as your head falls. “Looks like we got cleaning duty.” You groan loudly and he nods solemnly, “Me too.”

“It’s best to get started now.” Angela starts, shooing the two of you out. “The storage room needs a lot of work.”

“We know,” you sigh and turn to leave, “c'mon Lúcio.”

As soon as the door shuts behind you, Genji begins his speed walk out, only to be stopped by Mercy’s expecting hum.

“You weren’t expecting to leave without giving me an update, now were you?” His shoulders droop, knowing he’s already lost.

“No, of course not Doctor Ziegler.” Curse his polite nature! He knew she only wanted to gossip, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be rude enough to lie in order then leave.

She clasps her hands excitedly and smiles wide. “So, any new developments?”

“No, nothing has changed.” Her smile disappears slightly.

“Still nothing?” He nods and she frowns, “Genji, I thought Saturday was the day!”

“It was.” He crossed his arms, pausing his thought, carefully choosing his words. “Until I accidentally spilled juice on them.”

She was struck with silence. “I- and how did that happen?”

He places his head into his hand, “I was……….showing off…….”

“Genji,” he hears her scolding him, “we talked about this!”

“Yes, I recall.” He runs his hand down his faceplate, “I was nervous and not thinking. I did apologize, but that may have made things worse.”

“Is that why there was broken glass on the floor?”

“Yes.”

She let out a short sigh, “You do tend to make a big fuss around them.” Steam leaks from his shoulders and he turns his head away. She shakes her head, tapping her foot against the floor. “Maybe it would be easier if you didn’t try so hard. I’m afraid, at this rate, you might end up really hurting someone.”

He shifts on his feet and nods slightly. “You are right. I should try to handle this less forcibly.”

“Do you want me to brain storm ideas with you?” She offers.

He perks up a small bit, “It would be most appreciated.”

MCCREE:
It was no secret that you were immediately shy upon meeting the cowboy. But there was something else about you, something……..odd.

Maybe that wasn’t the best way to put it- yet he didn’t know what else it would be. So, his curiosity drove him to you. He needed to know what it was.

Now, believe it or not, Jesse was a smart man; and when feelings started to occur, he immediately started to distance himself, only to realize that he was in too deep.

For him, a fling was something he could handle. Real romance? Haha! No.

“Hey! Mr. Jesse, any chance I could talk with you?” Oh, it was that Lúcio kid. What could he want to talk about? They weren’t exactly friends; more like acquaintances.

“Sure, I guess?” He shoves his hand into his pocket, and uses the other one to scratch his beard. “‘Bout what, exactly?”

“[y/n]-” Why you? What about you would he want to talk about? Oh. Oh god! The jig is up, he knows; he’s gonna tell you! Abort, ABORT.

“You doin’ okay over there, buddy?” Lúcio sways slightly on his heels, “You’re getting a little pale.”

He coughs in his hand to rid himself of nerves. “Yeah, just dehydrated, I reckon.” His body feels a bit more clunky, “I didn’t quite catch what you said there before.”

Moment of truth. He knew this day was coming, but did he prepare for it? No.

“If you say so…” He wasn’t entirely convinced; it was written all over his eyes.

He distantly remember you telling him that Lúcio was incredible at reading people, and that wasn’t helping him calm down one bit.

“I was just asking what you thought I should get for their birthday?”

Ah.

Well, doesn’t he just feel like an idiot.

“I’m sure whatever’s fine.” He wanted this conversation to end so that he could go to his room and scold himself for getting so worked up over nothing.

“Are you sure your okay? Nothing’s up?” There was a pause, not long enough for him to respond. “Is it about [y/n]?”

“Uh-”

“It is!” He exclaims, pointing. Man, he was good at reading people.

“No, it’s not!” Jesse crosses his arm, glancing around the room. He’d rather not talk about this in a public place.

“I promise I won’t tell no body!” This boy was getting excited. He shuffles over to him and jokingly jabs his side with his elbow. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be my present to them, huh?”

“Now that’s just ridic-”

“Oh my god. I was just joking! I didn’t know that you actually liked them!” How much more excited could this kid get?

“Look, I don’t really want to talk about it.” He lifts his hat off his head, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it back on his head. “Not here, anyway.” He gestures to the open, and thankfully empty, lounge.

“Oh yeah, got it!” The Dj whispers at him with a wink. “I’m totally willing to help you out, dude!”

“I….. just might take you up on that offer.”

“Really!?”

“Not if you keep shouting!”

“Sorry.”

———-

I really like writing Lúcio……. Can you tell?

(I’m also really tired, so please excuse my mistakes ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ)

Asylum (Part 3)

Yes, I, Mod Loo, have created a part three. I’m sorry, I just love this AU so much, and I couldn’t resist. I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four doctors stood outside of the building, talking like they normally did. Nogla had gotten used to the asylum at this point and was in the same boat as the other three.

“Man, Squeaker will not leave me alone about gummy worms. He’s got like an addiction to them,” Nogla complained, fixing his glasses.

“It’s not as bad as Delirious. Still going on about me letting him out. And every once in a while he’ll slip a little extra in there, making it more and more uncomfortable,” Evan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Eh, you’ll get used to it. You just gotta keep pushing them back,” Tyler said.

“And hope that they get better. Ohm’s gotten much better,” Bryce said happily.

“We know. You wear the bunny ears he made for you everyday,” Evan replied, rolling his eyes.

“What? I think they’re cute.”

Everyone rolled their eyes and talked some more.

“Hey fellas, did ya miss me?” Everyone turned to see another doctor standing there with a smirk plastered on his face. Immediately everyone’s eyes widened.

“Brian!” Bryce exclaimed, going up to him for a hug.

“Hey man, you actually survived. We thought you were dead, you know,” Evan joked, giving Brian a pat on the back once Bryce let go of him.

“So you’re back from Ireland, huh? Well, you should’ve stayed, since we got a replacement,” Tyler grinned.

“Oh, really now? And who is this replacement?”

Tyler motioned towards Nogla, who had a blank expression on his face. “Uh, hi, I’m Nogla,” he said awkwardly. Brian broke out into a grin.

“Another Irish man? Thank god, it was getting lonely eating all of the potatoes by myself,” he joked. Nogla started to laugh, and everyone caught up with him.

“By the way, while you were gone, your patient was a pain in the ass,” Tyler said. Brian gave him a confused look.

“My patient? Are you sure you’ve got the right one? Cause my patient is an angel.” Tyler scoffed.

“He maybe an angel to you, but he’s really a sadistic fuck. Your patient’s fucking insane.” Brian was even more confused.

“Are you sure you’re talking about Moo? My Moo?”

“Uh, yeah. Who else?”

“You’re full of shit, Tyler. My Moo isn’t like that. I think Mini’s getting to your head.”

“Excuse me?”

“Guys, guys, let’s not argue, alright? Let’s just be glad that Brian is back, okay?” Bryce said, interrupting the two. Evan nodded.

“Yeah. So Brian, how many potatoes did you eat while you were gone?”

“I ate all of the potatoes!” He said with a laugh, causing everyone else to laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brian sped walked to his patients room with excitement. Moo was his favorite patient, and he had missed him. He quietly opened the door and shut it behind him, the grin still on his face. “Moo?”

Moo sat up from his bed quickly, turning around with a surprised look on his face before he smiled widely. “Brian!” He giggled. Brian’s smile widened as he sat next to Moo.

“I’m finally back from Ireland! How were you while I was gone?”

“Oh, it was terrible. I missed you so much, you know. I just couldn’t wait for you to come back,” Moo said with a sad look on his face.

“Well, I’m here now. Also, Tyler said that you gave him some trouble. Do you have any idea what that’s about?” Moo shook his head, a confused look settling on his face.

“No. I was being a good patient, I swear.”

“Don’t worry, I believe you. Now, I’ve got to go to check up on some others, but I’ll be back, okay?” Moo smiled sweetly at him, nodding. Brian smiled sweetly at him before getting up and leaving. Right after the door closed, Moo grinned and started to laugh manically.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I swear to you Moo isn’t all that innocent,” Tyler argued.

“Well, I swear to you that he is. He said he had no idea why you said he wasn’t doing well,” Brian argued back.

“Can’t both of you just let this go? I want to enjoy Brian’s Terminator voice, not listen to him argue for a solid hour,” Evan finally groaned, looking at the two. The two stopped before sighing and finally agreeing to drop it.

“Thank you,” Evan said with a sigh of relief.

“This isn’t over, piggy!” Brian yelled in his Terminator voice, causing everyone to laugh.

“Oh man, that’s actually pretty good,” Nogla admitted with a laugh.

“Exactly. He’s the best of the best at impressions,” Bryce said.

“You’re damn right I am!” Brian exclaimed, earning more laughs from the group.

The Right Way

When John opens his eyes, everything is white and silent.

His first feeling is shock.
Shock over this surreal environment. The sand, the heat, the tanks and the death have disappeared. No screams and no helicopter sounds can be heard. Instead, quiet, friendly voices around him. Birds singing somewhere. Well, outside. Outside where the sun shines. Where there is a daily life. Around him is the smell of disinfectants and mild detergent.

John blinks at the bright light in the room. He realizes he’s in a bed. No narrow, hard cot. It is a large, soft bed. A thick pillow under his head. A blanket pulled up to his chin. It’s warm.

He also notes that he can hardly move. It’s like a heavy weight is pushing him down.
John grunts, and wiggles tentatively with his toes under the blanket. This works very well. But as he tries to lift his head, an unpleasant, throbbing pain passes through his shoulder. At the same time, it occurres to him that he has been shot.
Shot. In Afghanistan.

John lets his head sink back into the pillow and breathes in the cool air in the room.
I was shot …
Pictures before his eyes make him swallow.
Running soldiers, screams, shots, an explosion. A hand on his arm, a whisper, a groan as eyes close forever …
And then the sharp pain as the bullet pierces him. Pain, so much pain, he falls into the sand and he can hear his name. Someones shouting his name …
A moment later it’s all gone.

John knows he’s been taken to a hospital. For the initial treatment. And then. Home.

Home, meaning this hospital.

He sighs, and licks his dry lips. Thirst.
His gaze falls to the side of the wall, where a call button is.
He presses it.
A few minutes later, a young nurse comes into the room. She smiles the certain standard smile, which is so common in a hospital.
“Ah, Dr. Watson, you are awake. Very good. The doctor will want to see your wound soon. Do you need something?”
“Water,” John can only croak with difficulty. And he points his finger vaguely at the bed. “Could you … raise it please?”
“Yes, of course.” The nurse pushes a button on the bed and it slowly lifts. “I’ll bring you water.”
Then she is gone again.

John can see the room better now. And when he looks aside, he sees that he is not alone.
Next to him is another bed. And there is a man in it.
The face half hidden by an oxygen mask.
John can see thick, dark locks. And pale, almost white skin. He judges the man to be in his mid-thirties. He stares at the completely motionless body and swallows. Something is drawing him to this unknown man … something he can not explain. John notes that he is fascinated. Fascinated without really having a reason for it. He shakes his head slightly.

The nurse comes back with a mug and a water bottle.
She pours him water into the mug and John takes it with a still unsteady hand. He drinks, relieved.
Then he says softly, “Who is that?”
The nurse follows his gaze and says with a sad undertone, “Oh, this is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. He’s been here for a long time. Almost half a year. He’s in a coma.”
“Ah,” John says, swallowing. Half a year. That’s a long time. “How …?”
“How it happened? He overdosed on cocain. We … well, we can’t ask him, but we think it was a suicide attempt.” She gently shakes her head and takes the empty mug from John. “It’s really a shame. He never gets any visitors. Never. The thought that no one in the world is there for him … Who knows if he will ever wake up again. Perhaps there is simply nothing worth it for … Oye, I talk too much.” She seems a little embarrassed and clears her throat. “If you need anything, just call, ok? The doctor should be here any minute.”
“Thank you. Yes.”
The nurse leaves. John does not look away from the sleeping man in the other bed.

Half a year. No visit.
Jesus.

*
The days pass at a quiet, slow pace, which both soothes and disturbs John.
He is not used to it.
He almost expects to be suddenly torn from the calm routine by a shrill siren. Or suddenly lie back in the hot, bloody sand of the desert.
But of course it doesn’t happen.
Instead, he wakes up around 9 in the morning, receives his breakfast and is examined. The doctor is friendly and passive. Nodding pleased at the sight of John’s wound, while John himself stares at the hole in his shoulder with a growing nausea.
After that, he can only watch TV, or watch Sherlock being fed.
It’s hard to watch.
No reaction comes from the comatose man, when the nurses lift his limbs off the bed to wash him. Turn him to his side. Dress him again.
The motionless body doesn’t resist. It reminds John of a doll. He does not like this thought.
At noon, they bring John food again.
For Sherlock, of course, nothing comes. He is fed artificially.
In the evening, more food. And more TV.
A lot of rest. A little too much, John thinks once, and feels strangely guilty at the thought.
On the third day of this routine, he talks to Sherlock for the first time.
It’s because a James Bond movie is on.
John always liked James Bond.
And that’s what he says.
“This is a good movie. A really good movie. Lots of action. And the women are pretty, the men too,” he says aloud in the room. And laughs. There’s no answer. And he feels a little stupid.

*

After a while, John realizes that he will not get any visitors either.
It’s not really that surprising.
Harry is … well, he doesn’t even know where his sister lives. His mother is dead. And he does not want to see his father. Not that he thinks, his father would want to see him …
Once, he receives a call from the leader of his unit. From Afghanistan. He says something like, “it’s a shame” and “get back on your feet soon”. John doesn’t say much. He only murmurs “Yes, sir” now and then.
His hand is trembling as he holds the phone. A tremor. It hasn’t stopped since he woke up.
He doesn’t get any visitors. Just like Sherlock.
Only the nurses and the doctor enter the room.
“Here we are, huh?” John says to Sherlock while eating his bland soup. “We’re alone together here.”

And then the nightmares start. About the war. About death and pain. About men he could not save. Distorted faces in the dark. Eyes full of despair.
He wakes up in the middle of the night. Heavily breathing. Bathed in sweat.
He moans and sits up with difficulty. Runs a hand over his face.
He looks at Sherlock. Sherlock, who is, as always, motionless in bed. A part of his face lit from the machine that measures his heartbeat.
John swallows. He must … He feels the overwhelming desire to talk to someone. It needs to stop. He can not … Oh, hell, he has no one and it’s not like Sherlock would complain, right?
He clears his throat and begins.

“Well, uh, Sherlock. How do you feel? Um, I hope I didn’t wake you. Sorry, haha, bad joke … I had a nightmare, which is quite obviously, right? Well, uhm, I hope it doesn’t bother you if I just talk a little. Yes. I’ll talk. So make yourself comfortable. Haha.
Sometimes I think I’ve gone the wrong way. I became a doctor because I wanted to help people. And the army … Well, it was just a whim. An idea that me and my friends had. One of them is dead, by the way. Mmh. I … it was not always bad. The training was exhausting though. Sometimes I thought I could not make it. My family was not much help either. My father is an asshole. There is no other word. My sister was thrown out. My mother died. It was all … a mess, you know? Anyway, I’ve been struggling. I wanted to do it. This one thing. And I did it. I’ve become a doctor. I went to Afghanistan and treated soldiers. I’ve seen things that would turn your stomach. Wounds that seemed like death sentences. I’ve looked into hopeless, desperate eyes. Sometimes I saved them. Sometimes I couldn’t.
And the faces of those I could not save, they haunt me now, you know? In my dreams. God. I’m so sorry. I really am … Do you see that? I’m crying. That hasn’t happened for a long time. It seems to make you sentimental when you get a bullet in your shoulder … " 

*

"Thank you for listening to me all the time, Sherlock. All this blabbering must be terrible. I thought about James today. Who that is? Well, good question. We were more than friends. But never more than … no idea. I kissed him. Well. In the desert, watching the sunset. Once. Just once. Do you think that is romantic? Shit, yes. Mabye it is. ”

*
“My middle name is Hamish. I hate it. I mean, who calls their child John Hamish? My father chose my name. There we have it again. This bastard. Hamish. I always avoid telling people that name. So, I guess that makes us mates? Hey, buddy, haha. No. That just sounds wrong. Sorry.”
*
"I can get up today. Great, huh? I feel like an old man. My damn shoulder, my trembling hand … a pretty sad picture I make, huh? ”

“It was not so bad. I mean, I for some reason I’m limping, quite badly, but the fresh air was great. I was down in the park. And imagine, a woman spoke to me. She’s called Mary. She said she’s working here. She is nice. And you know what, I asked her if we could go for a coffee. She said yes. Can I get a ‘well done’? No? All right. ”
*
“Do you know, that you’re pretty? Really, you are. I maybe would have asked you out, if I met you somewhere else before. Oh God, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I … Maybe I’m just afraid. Because … well. I’ll have to leave here soon, I guess. And I don’t know what to do then …”
*
“Well, that’s it. I … tomorrow I can go. I don’t know exactly where, but I can go. Mmh. I think I’m really scared. Mary said I should do therapy. No idea if that would help. I guess, I can try it. Maybe. Well, I’ll pack my things. You know … you really could wake up to say good-bye to me. It would be nice …”
*
“Surprise! Yes, here I am again. I … I missed you, Sherlock. You’re a good listener, you know? Better than my therapist … So, what happened since I left, tell me, haha.”
*
“I will marry Mary. That’s … yes, that’s good, right? She is … she gives me a certain hold in life. I would not know where else to go. What else could I do? So. We are getting married.”
*
“Oh God. Fuck Hey, Sherlock. I … She’s pregnant. She … she’s really pregnant. Did you hear that? I’m having a baby. I’m going to be a father. I. Can you belive that? No, me neither. I … Oh my God, what am I doing?”
*
“This is not what I wanted, do you hear me Sherlock? That … my God, I can not do that. That’s … That’s not me. Fuck. ”
*
“I love her … Really, I do. I mean, I married her. But … I just do not know what I’m doing. I’m … This is not me. I don’t want a quiet family life in a terraced area. I want … I don’t even really know what I want … But, I hate all of this. I … I thought I was going the right way this time, but that … that’s not what I want. I’m not a family man, Sherlock. ”
*
“You know, Sherlock, you can just wake up once. So … so we could really talk. Because, well … You listen to me here as I talk every day. Aren’t you bored. Jesus. I know it would be a miracle if you woke up. I have … I’ve heard the nurses talking. They’ve given up on you. It would be a miracle. But … I don’t know, maybe you can just make the miracle happen for me? Simply … Oh God, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Good bye, Sherlock. Until tomorrow.”
*
6 weeks later.

“Hello, Dr. Watson. I’m sorry to call you so late, but he … he’s asking for you.”

“Who? Who is asking for me?”

“Sherlock Holmes. The coma patient you have been visiting. He woke up and now he’s asking for you. Very urgently.”

John hurried to the hospital. He doesn’t even notice that he left his cane at home. Until Sherlock points it out. Sherlock, sitting upright in bed, an exhausted, oblique smile on his face.
Sherlock, who says quietly, “Hello, John.”
Sherlock, who steals John’s heart within a second and opens the door to a whole new, completely different story. Who shows John a new way. Which is finally

           the right one. 



This was inspired by this beautiful post of @johnnlocked: AU in which Sherlock is in a coma and John is in the same room.

Corrected by my wonderful beta @bakerstreet-irregular <3

Tags are under the cut. As always, if I forgot you or you want to be tagged in future works, tell me :)

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With All My Heart - Part 2

Word Count: 2225

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Slight panic attack

A/N: Again, there will be no tags for this series other than my Jensen tags which are closed. All new fics and only new fics will be reblogged over on my writing blog @torn-and-frayed-writes for easier access. Please do not ask to be tagged. 

Thanks to @impalaimagining for beta-ing this for me super fast at 1:30am! 

With All My Heart Masterlist


Running out on Jensen was one of the dumbest things you’d done in your life. You didn’t quite know why you did it and you’d spent almost every waking moment over the last week curled up on your couch trying to figure it out. He’d been nothing but kind to you, staying with you, driving you home, offering to get your car. You’d stared at his number in your phone a few times, debating whether or not you should call and apologize, but you’d chickened out every single time.

“Well, don’t you look like shit?” You drew your eyes up from your coffee cup and glared at Emma, your best friend who had agreed to meet you for coffee before your doctor’s appointment. You’d asked her to meet you at a smaller, hole in the wall coffee shop for fear of running into Jensen at Starbucks again, although you didn’t exactly tell her that.

“Fuck you too, Emz.” She laughed and sat down across from you, taking a sip of her coffee before looking you over one more time.

“You really do look like hell. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, kinda.” You shrugged. “I have that appointment in like an hour and then I guess I need to go beg Don for my job back.”

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Love Is Not Over

WORD COUNT: 3252

SUMMARY: You are Yoongi’s psychiatrist that helps him through his dark days, but what happens when your days become dark as well?

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

chapter one

December 1, 2012

You laid in bed, with your eyes wide open, waiting for your alarm to go off. It was supposed to ring in only five more minutes, but you couldn’t wait that long, so you sprang out of bed and ran to the kitchen to get some coffee. Today was the first day of your career as a psychiatrist. You worked so hard to get to this day, and it had finally arrived. You got ready in less than twenty minutes, and rushed out of the door.

When you reached the building, you realized that the lights were still off and your car was the only one in the parking lot. You sighed, turned the volume of the radio in your car up, and anxiously tapped on your steering wheel, nervous for what the day might entail.

After what seemed like hours, you spotted your new boss’s car approaching the building. You hopped out of your car and waited at the door.

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florabell  asked:

Omg I would love to read your take on the "I can hear you having mental breakdowns" AU because I can absolutely imagine Clarke being strung out with med school stress and Bell being a Mum and fretting over her

A|N: this got…. really, really long, so I’m just gonna apologize in advance and put it down as me being trash for neighbours!bellarke. Hope you like it!

_____________________

It only occurs to him that he has a new neighbour when he wakes to the sound of a distinctly feminine voice cursing out someone.

And it’s not like Murphy was ever quiet or a remotely considerate neighbour or anything, but Bellamy’s pretty sure that he’s never woken him up at six in the morning with his yelling. Huffing, he shrugs on a shirt, shuffles over to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. He has to be up in an hour for work anyway, so there’s no point in trying to go back to sleep.

He does, however, start feeling a little concerned when the muffled swearing grows progressively louder instead of abating. Maybe his new neighbour is actually hurt or something, and the increasingly profane swear words are her way of expressing her distress. It’s plausible, right? The nice, neighbourly thing to do would be to check up on her. Or at the very least, maybe pound on the wall and tell her, in no certain terms, to shut the fuck up.

As tempting as the latter option is, he finds himself edging out of the door anyway, crossing the hallway to knock at her door cautiously.

The door jerks open at the second knock, and he he has to hide his surprise at the figure standing by the doorway. She’s a lot tinier than he expected her to be, dressed in stained scrubs with her hair piled up into a messy bun, stray strands drifting over her collarbone distractingly.

She arches a brow over at him, the tilt of her chin challenging. “Yes?”

“Uh, hi. I live over at 5C? Just next to you?” He gestures over at his ajar apartment door, resisting the urge to make a snide remark about how thin the walls are in the complex. “And you just— I don’t know what’s happening, but you’ve been yelling for the past hour or so? I just wanted to make sure you’re not being murdered, like, five feet away from me.”

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Meant to Be - Part Ten: Stars

All Parts

Request: Soulmate AU – When soulmates draw on themselves, it appears on the other’s skin as well.

Tagging: @elenarte @empyrealsakaki @gum-and-chips @karenthepoop @hammytrashy @falling-open @bestfluteninja @urstupidmom @olympun @rebel-with-cause @mishaisakitten @depressionjoke @gemilton @ur-friendly-neighborhood-fangirl @regionallyblurredfaces @destiel-addict-forever @sxnyalxveshxrses@theinevitablesense @boiugotsmehalpless @rachurro @hamilton-of-issues @phantom10526 @feral-tomcat-hamilton @alonelynoodle @ilesserpanda@kyloslightsaberdick @msageofenlightenment @pentagramtardis @artisticgamer @smol-angery-bean @abbylikeschickennuggets @little-miss-vanilla @marquisdelargebagutte @cant-we-just-dance @commandergreysonpike @abbyg14 @ixhadbadxdays @iamindeedapotato @pipindaae @gad-jefferson @series-killerr @creepycute08 @viliantv@brienne-evenfall @sunshinerainbowunicorn @trickstrqueen @liv-livingafandomlife @gamzeenmakara @ham-for-ham @fruityfrootloops@canyoubemyfour @whimsicalfangirlthings @kakapo-the-owl-parrot @ssnips @iimnotyourson @theonethatscalledtay @k9effect@meagisnotamazing @lunahdeer @karoline-phantom @aham-threw-his-shot-away @arissanoddle @autistic-alien@aceplaysbass @bathtab @xthaynesxalcoholx @sovaiill @jamiltone @youreyesaretherealtruthtellers @artandshitposts @gold–cleaver @externallyandinternallyscreaming @iloveunicorns64

Word Count: 3228

Warnings: swearing, anxiety/panic attacks

Dedicated to: @limpblotter @feral-tomcat-hamilton and @lafilton for beta-reading my trash <3

okay and aaaah @theonethatscalledtay and @canyoubemyfour for their gorgeous fan art!!!

A/N: yIKES enjoy the angst


Alex calmed down as the day went on. Once his attack was over and his anxiety had decreased, he found he was ravenous. He was so hungry, in fact, that he practically devoured his sandwich in one gulp, pleasing Laf immensely. After he’d eaten, they all lounged about and talked for a few hours, just trying to enjoy the warm weather and one another’s company, with one notable exception; John remained almost completely silent and subdued, staring off into space.  

“Hey, you know what we haven’t done in forever?” Herc asked suddenly, ending a silence in which both Laf and Alex were trying to nap. Alex sat up groggily, rubbing at his eyes with his fist.

“What?” he demanded, his voice rough from tiredness.

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Chamber of Secrets - Part 17

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: After the Avenger’s falling out, you were put in charge of putting Bucky together. Under King T’Challa’s orders, you were given a month’s time to create a new arm while simultaneously figure out how to get the triggering memories of his past out of his mind. As the time goes by, you found yourself confiding in him, despite his frozen state.

A/N: I’m back!!!!! I just submitted my final draft to my supervisor tonight and I’m celebrating with this! It feels great to have words flowing out smoothly again. I hope you guys enjoy this one. 

Previous Part

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Your hands feel like home

Request: Some college au lance and keith, where maybe keith gets like really badly sick (Up to you my friend how) and lance has to force him to stop going to classes/go to the hospital but keith gets so freaking stressed because he must have perfect grades (Klance if you want!!) Thank!!! C:

Summary: When Keith comes down sick, he assumes its nothing and carries on. But as classes and deadlines start to take their toll, it becomes more and more obvious to both Keith and his boyfriend Lance, that this ‘cold’ is anything but normal. How he made it to lectures with full blown pneumonia, he’ll never know, but something he does know is that no matter what, Lance will always be by his side. 


‘Babe, did you get the coffee?’

Keith raised his head, pausing in his feeble attempt to remove his shoes without experiencing a rapid, unplanned introduction to the floor.

‘Huh?’ he called, a small wince seeping through his teeth at the irritable scrape in his throat. He had been feeling ill for days, sluggish and tired, with a growing wet cough that burned his airways and pounded his head like a hammer on an anvil. He knew he had a fever - that morning while Lance had still been sleeping he had snuck into his bathroom and borrowed his thermometer, only find that his temperature had risen to 38.5 degrees. But college was just too busy to take a day off from, and so he had popped a few fever reducers and paracetamol and gotten on with his day.

‘Coffee,’ Lance repeated, sticking his head out of the kitchen door to raise his eyebrows at Keith. ‘you said you were gonna stop by the store on your way here and pick some up. I’m nearly out,’

Keith groaned, leaning his head against the wall, second shoe all but forgotten. ‘Damnit.. I forgot, sorry. Want me to go back out and get some?’ he asked, but every fibre of his body was praying that Lance would say no. Apparently, whatever Gods were looking down on him chose to be kind, and Lance shook his head, at ease.

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lucia-ik  asked:

omg drunk keith is so cute. what would happen if keith got drunk for the first time infornt of the kids when they are teen. Somehow I think lance would have blast/could not believe that this is his daddy. And would it escalate if Shiro wasn't there?(Keith doesn't seem to have any impulse control when drunk) btw I love the little knb picture when I go to your askbox it's adorable!

LMAO Yes! Drunk Keith is worse than Shiro tbh. XD 

[The Voltron Family]  Shiro was away to attend one of those conferences for doctors outside of the state and Keith was missing him so bad. It has been 8 days now and Keith didn’t wanna be clingy but sometimes he just missed Shiro’s kisses and cuddles.

The kids were at a party of a friend of theirs and it was only 9pm but Keith drove there anyway to pick them up, despite saying he’d pick them up at 10, they were teens now after all. They earned it after acing all their exams. Keith arrived at the party and he entered frowning. Ugh. Teenagers are too rowdy at parties. Back in my days…crap, I sound like an old man.

He went looking for his three kids when some dude came up to him.

Some Dude: *offers a cup of beer* Whoa. You’re a new pretty face. Might I offer you some beer?
Keith: *glares* I’m a wine type of person and I’m old enough to be your father.
Some Dude: *chuckles* Right. Of course. I’m guessing you’re about 25 or 27 by the looks of it? *gives Keith a once over* *points at the leather jacket* *whistles* Nice.
Keith: *ignores* Where’s Lance, Pidge and Hunk? *looks around*
Some Dude: They’re by the library last time I saw them. 
Keith: Thanks. *leaves*
Some Dude: Hey! I have wine. Can’t have a guest walking around without a drink of their choice. *smiles*
Keith: *stops* Do you have 1947 Cheval Blanc?
Some Dude: *blinks* What? I have no idea what you’re talking about but we could check it out by the bar? *points at the bar* The bartender might know. *eyes Keith* You looked so stressed, man. You okay?
Keith: *sighs* I am the epitome of stress. 
Some Dude: Awww, sorry for hitting on you, man.
Keith: It’s fine.
Some Dude: I’m Leonard. Finals are over but you’re probably the type to stress over results, huh? Forget about it tonight. C’mon, let’s get you a drink. You need it. *places an arm around Keith’s shoulder*
Keith: Oh boy, do I. *rubs temples* 

Lance, Hunk and Pidge were about to leave the house to wait for their Daddy Keith to arrive to pick them up when Pidge spotted something.

Pidge: Oh sweet baby mac and cheese. Is that Dad by the bar?
Hunk and Lance: *turns around and sees Keith*

Keith was drunk and he was ranting and ranting to their poor friend Leonard who had to hear everything. The three teens approached the bar.

Keith: And then he would usually surprise me to a lunch date when he visits me at work. *sobs while taking another drink* Such a wonderful man and now… *hiccups* He’s not even here with me. 
Leonard: Oh damn. You have a bad case of love sickness.
Keith: *nods* I do and I hate the fact he’s out there somewhere miles away and I’m here like a mess. *turns to his side and sees a girl* *cups her face and leans in*
Hunk: Is Dad drunk?! *shocked* He would NEVER do THAT! 
Pidge: Dude, we gotta do something!
Lance: No no, wait, you guys. Let’s see what happens first. *amused* I’ve never seen Daddy Keith drunk—ever.
Girl: *smirks at Keith* Hey, pretty boy.
Keith: *scrunches his nose* Pretty boy. You’re not Shiro. *frowns* He calls me pretty boy when we snuggle at night. *cries* *hugs the girl* I miss him so much. I want to see him. *turns to another person* Do you know where Shiro is? He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Have you seen him?
Pidge: Wow. He got drunk because of Daddy Shiro.
Keith: *gets up from his seat* *wobbles as he walks towards the dance floor*
Hunk: Uh, guys, should we do something now?
Keith: *walks randomly to every guy and cups their face to look at them* *shakes head* Nope. Not Shiro. Not you. Too short. Too tall. Too lanky. Not my type. Leave. 
Lance: Are you guys seeing this? *laughs* This is GOLD. 
Hunk: No. This is horrifying! Daddy Keith’s so broken.
Some other random dude: *walks up to Keith dancing* Hey, sexy.
Keith: *glares at him* What are you doing?
Some other random dude: *chuckles* Thought we could have some fun tonight. *touches Keith’s arm*
Keith: *grips the guy’s hand* Don’t. You. Dare. Touch. Me. Only one man can touch me.
Some other random dude: *grins* Shit, that’s hot. I could be that—
Pidge: Dad! *shouts and approaches Keith*
Keith: *turns head* *smiles* Oh, baby girl. I came looking for you and *sees Lance and Hunk* your brothers.
Some other random dude: *looks at the three teens* Hey, I saw him first.
Keith: No, you didn’t. *glares* Shiro saw me first.  
Some other random dude: Who the heck is Shiro? 
Hunk, Lance and Pidge: Our Dad.
Keith: My husband.
Some other random dude: What the shit, dude? You’re married?!
Keith: I am. *teary eyed* And I miss him. I miss my husband. *sobs as he wipes his tears* I… *walks wobbling*
Hunk: I got you, Dad. *catches Keith and embraces him*
Keith: *sobs* I miss Takashi Shirogane. Bring me Takashi Shirogane. I love Takashi Shirogane. *clings to Hunk*

Hunk drove them all back home and they put Keith to bed. The following morning, Pidge handed him the phone. Shiro was on Skype.

Shiro: Hey, sweetheart. Good morning.
Keith: Shiro. *whispers*
Shiro: I heard what happened last night. *frowns*
Keith: Oh my god. *groans* 
Shiro: *chuckles* Hey, I think it’s nice to know you rejected everyone’s advances because they weren’t me.
Keith: *whispers not looking at Shiro* I only want you.
Shiro: *flushes* Keith, you’re not playing fair.
Keith: It’s true though.
Shiro: Why don’t we go out tonight on a date?
Keith: *shocked* *looks up* Tonight?
Shiro: *smiles* Yeah, I’m coming home, pretty boy.

It’s Starting To Feel Like Home

Characters: Bucky x Reader 
Warnings: talks of miscarriage, blood, angst, swearing
Prompt Number(s): 06 - “I lost the baby.”, 113 - “Where did all these puppies come from?”
W/C: 1.3k+
A/N: I know that there is never really a replacement for something like this, like losing a child and the intention of this story is to bring hope and a smile. I hope I don’t offend anyone with this piece. Thank you for sending prompt numbers @stevette60 <3

Originally posted by coporolight

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Pick-Up Limes

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Words: 1158

Warnings: Some language, implied smut? A lot of puns and cheesy pick-up lines. Yes, that is a warning.

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope y’all like it! Feedback is very appreciated :)


Pick-Up Limes

(Gif from Google - credit to the owner)

I like Dean, I’ve been fancying him since I met the Winchesters a couple of years ago, but I’ve never got the guts to tell him how I feel. I’m so not the type of girl he likes and, what if I said something and he rejected me? Things were going to turn awkward and I don’t want that. Lately, Dean was being particularly flirty towards me. I couldn’t tell if it was just a joke or if it was serious flirting. Only he was not being like a ‘regular’ flirty.

***

“Hey Y/N!” Dean yelled at me from the stairs.

“What’s up?” I said.

“I just came from the doctor” he was looking to the floor.

“The doctor? Why? Are you ok?” I asked getting worried.

“Yeah… My doctor says I’m lacking Vitamin U” he answered looking at me with a grin on his face. I stood there looking at him trying to understand what he said. Until I finally got it.

I just shook my head at turned around and went to my room.

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BabyDaddy!Cal Pt. 2

A/N: Hello again, cuties.(Someone said I have a new petname for every chapter lmao) but I’m back again and ready to serve ya drama and fluff. Everybody in my inbox is hella excited, so I’m trynna live up to your expectations. Anyway, you know the drill of 100 notes and feedback for chapter 3 and I hope yall enjoy💕

Also someone asked who do I envision as Y/N while writing and I’ll say Normani Kordei but shorter cuz I’m 5'2 lmao….ig for the non POC you can fill in the character with her

And one more thing…why is The Story of Another Us so underrated? Like it came up on my playlist while writing this and I was like the fuck? It’s been on repeat for an hour, someone help me. And Daylight too…wtf you guys.

**WARNING**: Nah, nothin just mentions of smut? Nothin serious honestly


Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty{END}


“We need to talk.”

Those four words sent your anxiety spiraling through the roof as Calum stood in your doorway with an emotionless expression. You simply nodded your head and moved to the side to allow the tall Māori to come in, following him and seating yourself on the couch. You watched as he used the remote to turn off the tv and stood tugging on his raven curls. You refused to say anything and just waited until he was ready to speak.

“Y/N,” he called out your name and you nervously began to bounce your leg.“I…what the hell?”

“I know.”

“You’re keeping it?”

“Of course I’m keeping it, the fuck?”

“There isn’t a way to tell if it’s mine or not before it’s born? Because if it’s not mine, Y/N….” he trailed off with a laugh that was in no means filled with joy.“You might be carrying Luke’s baby. How great is that?”

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