So dominant lip lives rent free in my head and just the image of her in the morning in the Gallagher household making food or something and lip is just in a dominant PDA mood, kissing her neck and playing with her clothes and trying to lift her onto the counter, the domesticity drives him crazy
the heat from the frying pan before her is making her cheeks flush with warmth, hair clipped back, and apron tied securely around her waist. tiny shorts hug at the curves of her waist, barely covering the swell of her bottom, save for the extra-long t-shirt that makes up for the difference.
her humming masks the padding of footsteps across the kitchen, and when muscled arms curl around her middle and a chin nestles into the dip of her shoulder, she nearly jumps in fear. "oh jesus christ, lip, you scared me."
"g'morning, baby." he preens, tone thick with lethargy. "what you doin' up already?" she shrugs, using the spatula in hand to scrape the over-easy eggs off of the pan's surface and onto an old plate. "you hungry?"
he shakes his head. "carl should be done soon, you can just leave it there. he'll cream his pants with the way you've just made 'em."
her nose wrinkles, and she giggles when lip manages to spin her around and pin her to the counter. "gross."
he hums, lips smoothing over her jugular and sinking his teeth into the flesh there. a fluttery moan rolls of her tongue, hands settling against his broad shoulders. "i should..i should maybe.. finish breakfast, and um.." her breath shudders, and she licks her lips. "get everything.. ready."
his fingers squeeze around her pelvis. "sure, kid. i'd like to see you try."
It isn't easy being a woman, especially an omega, in the military. Both your primary and secondary genders marking you as inferior in others' eyes. But not every man, and not every alpha, thinks that way. Captain John Price, an alpha if there ever was one, knows something special when he sees it, and the new omega on base may be just what his pack needs.
poly!141 x fem!reader, omegaverse
1: first sight 2: the offer 3: transfer paper 4: family talk 5: introductions 6: decision time 7: joining the 141 8: making it official 9: meet Ren 10: what glass ceiling? 11: settling in 12: asset retrieval 13: nesting? 14: undercover work 15: preparations 16: small comforts 17: new beginnings 18: homecoming 19: a change in the air 20: wine and dine 21:
main masterlist
Words: 2,958 Summary: Press and fans find out during the Australian GP that Oscar isn’t single, in fact he is married. The more troubling part is the rest of the grid finding that out as well. Note(s)/Warning(s): Some drivers aren’t portrayed greatly in this, not because I don’t love them, but because they're a bit dumb and stupid. Some interesting thoughts about Lando and Max and Mclaren and Red Bull. Some angst. Logan is protective of Oscar and Oscar’s wife (his self proclaimed little sister). Slight NSFW at the end. Once again stating that I love all the drivers mentioned and written in this fic. (If anyone is interested in knowing more about my thoughts on the whole Lando, Mclaren, Max, Red Bull thing, send me an ask.)
Taglist | Masterlist
“Hey, Apples.” Oscar greets when he picks up the phone. “Os,” He frowns, stopping in his steps, ignoring how Lando is trying to wave him over for something. “What’s wrong?” She sighs, “You know how I said I wouldn’t get lost?” He breathes a sigh of relief that it's nothing serious, smiling again. “Lando’s trying to get my attention for something, but I’ll text Logan to get you. That okay?” “Yeah. I’ve missed our American boy.” Oscar scoffs, “you’ve missed him. I’ve had to deal with him.” She laughs, “Uh huh. I’ll let you go, but have fun talking to Lando. I’ll see you later, Os.” “Later, Apples.”
Ending the call, he quickly messages Logan. The message brief and he’s not surprised when the American driver sends back quickly a simple thumbs up.
“What’s up, Lando?” He asks, when he finally gets close enough to his teammate. “You’re married?” Oscar blinks at the British driver. This is what Lando had been waving him over for? Something he already knew. “Yeah. Have been.” His eyebrows press together. “Are you alright? Hit your head or something?” “No!” Lando shrieks, making him jump back. “You’re married. When did that happen?”
His shriek and loud words catch a few other drivers' attention and before Oscar can process it, he has Charles, George, Checo, Mick, and Lance also surrounding him, asking him if he’s really married.
The repeated question has him blinking widely, wondering if there’s something in the air that’s making them all have memory loss.
“Yes, I’m married. Why are you guys acting like this is new news?” “Non.” Charles says, eyes wide. “You can’t be married. You are a baby. Younger than Arthur.” He rolls his eyes at the words. “Fuck off, mate. I’m not a baby.” Charles pouts. “But you are so young to be married.” Oscar’s nose wrinkles at the words, lips pressing together. “Right.” He nods, holding back what he wants to say. “I don't know what to tell you guys. I’m married and I thought you guys knew.” George scoffs, “none of us had any idea. And twitter is going crazy, mate.” “What do you mean twitter? I’ve been married since I was eighteen. This isn’t a new thing.” “Eighteen!” Oscar nearly throws his hands in the air. “How did not one of you know? It’s public knowledge. Like all marriages.” He doesn’t mention the fact that he has definitely mentioned his wife in infront of all the drivers, they all obviously had trouble listening. Lando flushes, “I mean, you don’t really talk about yourself. So, I guess it just never got brought up?” He offers, though it feels a little weak and Lando can’t help but wonder if Oscar had mentioned it but he had just thought that it was a joke or had been tuning him out because it wasn’t team or race related.
“Late congratulations then Oscar. She is here, no?” Checo says. Oscar smiles at the older driver. It had felt odd that he had joined the rest of them, but it was clear he had joined because of the mention of another driver having a wife. They were few and far between. “Yeah, first race weekend this season.” “Give her my congratulations as well.” “I will.” He tells the older driver, watching as he leaves before turning his attention back to the other five.
“I’m private, but I’m not that private, you guys.” He says, and before one of them can say anything an American voice is speaking up from behind him. “Private about what?”
Logan eyes the five drivers surrounding Oscar, nearly cornering him. The girl next to him breath catches a little at the sight and he squeezes her a bit closer before dropping his arm from around her shoulder.
“Everything alright?” He asks, no one having answered his previous question. Oscar turns his head to throw him a grateful look before completely turning around seeing the girl beside him, a smile blooming across his face. “Logan find you okay?” He can see from the corner of his eye, her nod shyly, fidgeting under the stares of five complete strangers and Logan gives the girl he considers a little sister a light push to Oscar. Knowing that they’ll both feel better with some contact.
Logan turns his head to face her when she gives a light tug to his shirt and he easily tilts his head a little downwards to receive the kiss on the cheek she gives as silent thanks, trying not to smirk at the wide eyed looks the other drivers are giving him. He turns his head back to face them, when she joins Oscar, the youngest driver on the grid, easily wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close, though keeping her slightly tucked behind him.
“No one knew I was married.” Oscar tells him, answering his question from before. Logan’s eyebrows furrow. “What? It’s public knowledge.” He shrugs, “twitter is apparently going nuts. No one knew.” He then nods his head towards the five drivers in front of them. “Including other drivers.” He scoffs, “that’s a joke right?” None of them say anything and Logan can feel a simmer of anger starting in his gut. “Seriously. I’ve heard him mention her when all the drivers were around. Mark made a joke at the first race about him being married.”
No one of them say anything to that and Logan can feel his eyes narrow seeing Lando and George exchange a quick look.
It wasn’t necessarily surprising to hear that people on twitter were freaking out about it. It wasn’t something that first came up when you searched Oscar Piastri. But for not one of the drivers to know? Especially after hearing Oscar mention her? Mark make a joke about it? It rubbed him the wrong way.
He wondered if it was because when they all did a quick google on Oscar nothing about him being married came up. A combination of money buying a little privacy, though not enough to bury or hide a public marriage, and how private Oscar was as a person. He didn’t like talking about himself, was a little hard to make friends with unless effort was really put in or you were around him often enough. He also doubted that any of the drivers had really tried to get to know him due to the whole McLaren thing and the Alpine drama of last year. They only knew so much about Logan because everything was online about him, a problem with too much money, and he was willing to play into the whole about himself American persona.
It also makes him wonder if Oscar had been lying when he said that Lando and him were getting along. It was still early days, but for Lando not to know that Oscar was married? It spelled something that Logan didn’t like and the thought of Max not being the only teammate killer crosses his mind before he can stop it and he shakes his head. It was far too early for that and unfair to both Max and Lando. They weren’t the true issues or at least at the moment in Logan’s eyes Max wasn’t, their teams were.
Logan shakes his head at the silence from the other drivers still. He didn’t know what to say. Other than he wanted to tell them all to get their ears fucking checked. But he holds his tongue.
“Well now you guys know.” He tells them after another moment of silence. “This is Y/N, Oscar’s wife. And you already know all these guys.” She nods, giving them a small wave that Lance and Mick return before quickly walking away with quiet apologies. “You are a baby as well.” Charles says, eyes widening right after, clearly not having meant to say that. She looks at Oscar and then Logan. “I thought you guys said that Arthur was worse than him.” Logan laughs at the way Charles looks offended, mouth open in shock. “Charles has his moments.” Feeling a slight tug to his hoodie, Oscar gives a nod to his teammate and the other two drivers. “We have to get going. Talk to you tomorrow.” He tells them, before stepping away, knowing that Logan is following just barely not on their heels.
Logan and her both hang outside of the McLaren headquarters for the weekend, waiting for Oscar to come back from a quick talk with his race engineer.
“Lando.” She begins and she can feel Logan’s full attention on her. “Do I need to worry?” “Everyone likes him. He’s likable.” He tells her, trying to ignore what she’s getting at. Doesn’t want to think about the thought that popped into his head barely fifteen minutes ago. “Logan,” Her voice is a little harsh. “Do I need to worry about Oscar being teammates with him? We all saw what happened with Daniel at least with what the media said. And I’m grateful that McLaren gave Oscar one of his dreams. But do I need to worry that they will ruin him for Lando?” He can’t make his eyes meet hers, can’t when he can’t give her a sure answer. “I don’t know. Lando to McLaren is like Charles to Ferrari nearly, just not as predestined, I guess.” The words are sour sounding. “He still has good relationships with Daniel and Carlos.” “Max is called a teammate killer and he’s got a great relationship with Daniel. A fair one with Alex according to your texts. And we all know that it’s not him, but Red Bull that’s the killer.” He can’t help but glance around despite their whispers, wincing as she repeats his thought from earlier of Lando being perceived as a teammate killer. This really wasn’t the place to have this conversation, but he understood her need for some sort of answer. “I don’t know.” He repeats. “It’s still early. I want to say that McLaren will be fair to Oscar and treat him well, won’t treat him like a second class driver, but after them breaking a contract with Daniel.” He swallows harshly. “I don’t know.” And he hates that.
Getting into Formula 1, getting the chance that nearly all drivers dreamed of but only some got was supposed to be fun. Sure there was always going to be pressure and stress, but no one had warned him about the politics of it all.
“Okay,” she tells him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug and he can’t help but rest his head on her shoulder. Letting her bear his weight for a moment. “It’ll be okay Logan. And thank you.” “Of course.” He mumbles. And suddenly there’s another set of arms wrapping around him and her. He only doesn’t move or lift his head because he knows those arms and there’s an Australian accent in his ears.
“You alright, Logan?” He lifts his head to nod, not wanting to hurt her. “Yeah, just stress.” He squeezes them both a little tighter. “Can say that again.” Logan smirks, beginning to open his mouth but then a finger is poking between his ribs and he’s jumping out of the hug, rubbing at the spot with a pout. “Hey!” She shakes her head at him, pressing closer to Oscar as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t get cheeky. You still coming to dinner with us?” Logan scoffs, “Of course. I’m not missing out on seeing Nicole and Chris.” “My parents will be there as well.” Logan throws his hands in the air, starting to walk backwards. “Why are we still here then?”
“Still missed him?” Oscar asks her as they start to follow him. She laughs at the dry but teasing tone. “Of course. He’s a great older brother.” “He is, isn’t he?” He has a put on suffering face, but there’s a fondness in his eyes as he looks ahead to where Logan is. “He is.”
“Is everything alright?” He asks, slowing their pace a bit more. She hesitates. “We’ll talk about it after dinner, but it should be.” His brows furrow at the response and he can’t help but squeeze her closer. “Are you okay?” “I’m all good, Os. Just worrying.” “Promise?” “Promise.”
—
“You’re worried.” He brings up nearly five hours later as they soak in the bath together, her back to his chest, his fingers interlaced, hands resting on her stomach and her hands resting on top of his. He can feel her breathing stutter and his heart clenches inside of his chest at the reaction. She had always been a bit of a worrier. He wasn’t exactly sure where she got it from, no siblings to inherit the trait from and her parents were fairly laid back. But this seemed different, more serious. “I had some thoughts about McLaren. I needed to talk to Logan about them. He had some of the same ones.” “Like?” She pauses, lips pressing together for a moment. “McLaren gave you your dream.” “One of my dreams.” He corrects her, picking up her left hand and pressing a kiss to her ring finger. Her wedding band and ring sitting on the bathroom counter instead of being where they belong. “One of your dreams.” She corrects. “They clearly favor Lando.” His hand and hers settling back where they were. “Lando’s an experienced driver, Apples.” he lets out a small laugh. “It’s only my first season. I’m a rookie.” “Oscar,” she turns slightly to look at him. “Daniel was a more experienced driver. He even got them their first win in how many years and look what they did to him?” He winces at the reminder. It would always slightly haunt him that the only reason he had a seat at McLaren is because they tossed Daniel like trash practically. Didn’t sit right with him and suddenly the solemness on her and Logan’s faces earlier made sense. “You two think they’ll do the same to me?” “I think that as long as Lando gives them some sort of positive result he’ll always be their number one. Even if you perform better.” He swallows at the words, because fuck it was looking like that wasn’t it?
Lando was a great driver, amazing, Oscar was thrilled to get to be his teammate and learn from him. But Daniel had pulled results from the McLaren, even if he hadn’t gotten as much as Lando did from it last season. It made no sense to get rid of an experienced driver or push him aside for a younger driver that would have years more left on the grid. And as he sits thinking about it, he’s reminded of how much last season McLaren put Lando first over Daniel, despite Daniel having a better chance or opportunity. Remembers some of the races he attended seeing Daniel’s frustrated, tired face as he got out of the car.
“You think Lando’s going to get called a teammate killer?” He knew her mind, knew it wasn’t a far stretch considering how Carlos was perceived at Ferrari and how Daniel wasn’t even racing this season. “I think that if people are willing to call Max one when Red Bull is clearly the problem, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t been called it already.” “Fuck.” He whispers, dropping his head to rest it on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She whispers and he lifts his head back up. “Don’t. We’re a team. This would have driven you mad keeping it to yourself.” It was a lot, but he was thankful it was being brought up now. Gave him more time. And god he’d have to bring it up with Mark. He could only imagine that the man would want to talk to her. Mark had always appreciated her thoughts and knew that they were a team. He didn’t just bring things to him, but to her as well.
“Charles doesn’t like me, I think.” Oscar can’t help but laugh. The tension that had filled the bathroom, leaving. “You did say that he was worse than Arthur.” “In that moment he was.” She defends and he presses a kiss to her cheek, still laughing. “Once he gets over being told he’s worse than Arthur, he’ll like you just fine.” “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects. “Not many people dislike you, Apples.” “But you like me best.” She says, smiling. “Like you best and love you best. Love you so much.” He murmurs before pressing a series of kisses to her cheek making her giggle and then squealing when he manhandles her until she’s facing him, straddling him.
“Hi, Apples.” She beams at him and he can’t help but swallow at the brightness of her eyes. “Hi, Os.” “You ready for bed?” She lets out a little hum, wiggling her hips and his hands grasp at her waist, the lust that had started to simmer inside of him when he had turned her around growing at the pressure against his dick. “You have a race tomorrow.” “Is that a no?” “We haven’t had sex during a race weekend in over a year now. Don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.” “I’ll be alright.” He tells her, pressing her down a bit and can see the way her eyes dilate at the feeling of him growing hard underneath her. “Might even make me place higher.” “Well, only if you think it’ll make you place higher.” She teases and he can’t help but lean forward and kiss her.
She sighs into it, pressing closer to him, chests touching as he bites gently at her lip. “I’ve missed you.” She breathes when they separate, her eyes on the slight flushed face of her husband. “I’ve missed you too.”
---
Tagging: @ireadthensuetheauthors @copper-boom @lpab @gemofthenight @peachiicherries
word count: 6.5k
summary: On September 1st, 1971 you were sorted into Slytherin, putting you on the map as the first Potter to do so, and the first time James Potter turned his back on someone he claimed he loved dearly. You’re slowly drifting away, turning the Potter twins into a sad tale, but after one deadly incident close to Christmas break, James decides to put an end to the distance he unknowingly created.
How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dying?
cw: suicidal ideation, but hinted. scars and blood mention, nosebleed. angst, very heavy on the angst. potter!reader, fem!reader. platonic marauders and rosier twins. background jily.
a/n: sorry if this too much… just had this idea for a while and i needed an outlet. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx
···
You sighed, the bandage around your shoulder suffocating you to the point of tears. As much as you tried, you wanted to keep your compartment warm and toasty with the blanket over your seat and legs, but your efforts were in vain at the mere lack of human heat. The fogged window seemed an acceptable distraction as you dragged your finger around, drawing meaningless doodles as the train passed by beautiful landscapes you barely registered.
Something shifted on your other side, and you turned to find people walking past your compartment, pointing and whispering about you and your sad state. None of them dared to open the door, making the lump in your throat grow with each breath you took. You looked down at the cassette player in your lap, hands too shaky to change the cassette into something more cheerful.
In time, you looked up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at you with both curiosity and pity, you frowned, desperately wishing your brother’s friends would stop pestering you. Their mere presence was a bitter reminder of your brother's abandonment, the pain you suffered seeing them fill your place, share laughter together like you both did many years ago. You looked away, luckily for you, Remus got the signal and made to move past the compartment; but to Remus’ ill luck, James followed his gaze and opened the door.
“Mum said Dad won’t be able to come, but will be waiting for us at the Manor.” He murmured, his eyes pointedly trying to not stare too hard at the bandages peeking through your jumper. You nodded. “She will meet us at the station.”
“Okay,” You said, not moving to take your headphones off, nor to look at him to meet his gaze. You feared you would cry if you looked at him, a reminder of the despair in his eyes when they brought you into the infirmary. “I knew that, you know we still write to each other, right?”
James nodded quickly, swallowing hard at your voice devoid of emotion. “Yeah, just… Just wanted to make sure,” He paused, quickly stepping in to fully enter and close the door behind him. You finally turned your head to him with surprise. “You alright?”
You scoffed, finally taking your headphones off your ears, “What do you think, James?” This time, he has no qualms about studying you completely, eyes skimming over your poor posture as a result of the accident. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes, your blood boiled as you spat. “Yes, I’m fine. Will that be all, or…?”
James closed his mouth and schooled his face, something desperately needing to be said. You bit your lip, your insides filling with regret but having no intention of backing away from the incoming disagreement. Something in you stirred with hope, hope that he would finally give you your place and sit with you. However, the bespectacled boy simply nodded and left the compartment.
You let out a breath, disbelief and disappointment in your heart as you placed the headphones back in your head. A tear slowly rolled down your cheek and you quickly cleaned it, your shaky hand almost poking your eye as you desperately tried to swallow the possible panic attack you felt looming over you. The countless letters addressed to you from your mother heavy on your satchel, most of them asking you to fix your relationship with James, the other begging you to take care of yourself, you weren’t sure which ones hurt the most.
The moment the word Sectumsempra left Snape’s mouth, a curse filled with magic so dark not even the boy could understand it, you almost felt bad for the relief you felt in your chest at the pain that took over your body. That morning still felt like a far away memory, a dream that shook you up so much you still recalled after you woke up; McGonagall’s surprised gasp and the students that were unfortunate enough to witness the moment your fellow housemate almost made you cut into pieces. You were brought up in a rush to the infirmary where your brother and his friends recovered from a rather violent full moon, James had almost passed out at the pure rage he felt when he was informed of the situation. You weren’t proud to admit that your brother being angry on your behalf was a nice memory to die with, a redemption that came almost too late.
You weren’t even prouder to admit to the sinking feeling in your chest when you woke up to find nothing had changed, the only remains that someone still cared about you in the form of Madam Pomfrey’s gentle touches. James hadn’t stayed back to check on you, and you couldn’t blame him. To that day, you couldn’t fully stare at your reflection in the mirror without your eyes filling with tears, had it not been for Pandora, promoted to friend as of lately, you wouldn’t have been able to even put the healing potions in your scars.
Just in time, three knocks came at the door, you turned, ready to yell at your brother or his friends to fuck off, but Pandora’s gentle smile made you pause. She pointed at the seat across from you, cold and empty, and you nodded dumbly. She stepped in, arms filled with sweets from the trolley and smiled at you as she made herself comfortable in the seat.
“Hi, how are you feeling?”
Why is everyone asking me that?, you thought bitterly. Immediately feeling regretful when Pandora presented you with a Chocolate Frog.
“I’m okay,” you murmured, shyly taking the sweet from her hand. She had a different color in each of her nails, you noted. “Thank you.”
Her platinum white locks fell to her shoulder as she sat back, her own Chocolate Frog in her hand. She smiled at you and picked her book, and you wanted to cry tears of happiness. Comfortable silences were Pandora’s main form of love language, you quickly learned, and you were eternally grateful for the company. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to put up with your self hatred for another moment, let alone the rest of the train ride.
You looked up from your cassette case, eyes lingering a beat too long on the compartment door.
“He’s two compartments over,” She said breezily, noticing the hesitance in your movements. “I passed them on my way here, he seems gutted.”
“Oh, please,” You made a scoffing sound, your shaky hand struggling to take a new cassette off its box. “He just feels bad for me, but he’s going to do absolutely nothing about it.” You poked your cheek with your tongue, satisfied when you finally got the cassette out.
“Have you thought that maybe,” Pandora started to say, fully closing her book now that she had your undivided attention, “maybe… he thinks it’s too late? You have been a bit too cold to him…”
“It’s the least he deserves,” You spat, then cleared your throat. If Pandora felt offended at your anger, she didn’t show, she never did. You looked back to the window, feeling the train had noticeably slowed down. “I just… I’m so tired of waiting for him, I don’t… I don’t know how to feel, I so badly wanted him to get close but now that he’s trying I don’t…” To your utter horror, you felt tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m so confused.”
Pandora’s lips curled in an empathetic smile, she reached and held your shaky hand, gently sweeping her thumb across your knuckles, you took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself as students began to empty the train.
“I’m sorry,” You dared to meet her heterochromic eyes.
She shook her head, chuckling quietly. “No need to be sorry, keeping those feelings bottled up must be so tiring, I’m sure.” You laughed weakly, and used your free hand to discretely clean your cheeks. “You might’ve accepted your loneliness a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean it has to be permanent, sweet girl. Evan would agree, though he’s more shy to actually say it. You got more people in your corner than you realize, only if you let them…” She turned to the door, and you followed her gaze where you found James and Sirius walking past with a troubling look in their eyes. Pandora stood up, “You need help with your trunk?”
You opened your mouth, but were interrupted by the door opening. “Ready to go?” Sirius asked, and you frowned.
“I can carry it, thank you.” You smiled at Pandora, pointedly ignoring his question. She nodded, and reached to give you a quick hug, gentle and careful to not hurt you. “I’ll see you next term.”
“Write me?” She smiled, passing you a small box and you nodded, eyes in a daze as you tried to read the note. She walked to the door, and smiled at both boys. “Happy christmas.”
You watched her go, shaky hand still holding the box. James frowned, and studied you for a few more seconds before Sirius, who wanted to leave the station immediately before his parents would show up to drag him and Regulus away, cleared his throat rather loudly.
“Are you ready to go?” He repeated, making a move to take your trunk but you swiftly picked it up. Your features a mix of anger and, if he had more time to look at you, he would also find pain. “Don’t be stubborn, I can take that.”
“I can take my own trunk, Sirius. But thank you.” You spat, then turned away from both boys. “I’ll meet you in the platform in a moment, let me just put everything away.” You pointed to your little cocoon, the blanket and cassette player tossed aside in your previously vacated seat. “Just remember to—”
“To not tell Mum anything,” Finished James for you, an edge to his voice. “We know.”
You nodded, fear settling in your chest at the prospect of your brother picking up the argument you had nights before. Him begging you to tell your parents about what happened with Snape, to prepare them for your almost deadly state, but you met him head on, not willing to back down until he dropped the matter. He had walked away mid argument, his friends staring at you both with something akin to sadness, watching the distance grow impossibly longer despite James’ recent efforts to fix it. You had cried that night in Pandora’s arms as she and her brother watched you with both sadness and regret, you, for your part, seemed blind to the fact that they had been the reason James had breached that subject with you.
The bespectacled boy nodded, and stepped out of the compartment with Sirius close behind. You took the cassette player and put the headphones back on, Billy Joel’s Piano Man a fitting soundtrack to the way you felt. You took your satchel and hurriedly put the messily folded blanket inside, made an assesment of the compartment to not leave anything behind and silently walked out of the compartment towards the platform.
You watched with a sinking feeling as your mother enthusiastically greeted James, grabbing him by his cheeks and showering him with kisses, Sirius and the rest of his friends in line to receive the same treatment. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me, Billy Joel sang in your ears and you readily agreed, walking towards the bunch with a tiny smile and your insides filled with dread.
Euphemia Potter’s bright smile dimmed when she met your eyes, and noted the sadness that, evident to everyone but you, radiated off your body as you placed your headphones around your neck. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, your brother and his friends watching the exchange nervously, as she practically balanced herself over you in a tight hug.
“My lovely girl,” You were horrified to almost hear her voice breaking, the least you wanted was your mother to worry for you. “How I missed you, oh, look at you.”
“Hi, mum…” You muttered, bitting your lip as she accidentally squeezed precisely around your middle, where your most painful scar was located. “Missed you too, Dad too, of course.” You patted her back awkwardly and she pulled back.
“You’re so small, oh, my girl, please be honest with me,” She grabbed your cheeks the same way she did to James, and you successfully swallowed the lump in your throat. “Have you been eating properly? I knew that veganism nonsense simply wouldn’t do.”
Her eyes studied you much like James did earlier, and you bit your lip nervously. You knew what was coming, and you wanted to take off and disappear from her searching eyes.
“I’m actually quite hungry…” You said quietly, hoping it would be enough to distract her.
Your mother, however, couldn’t be deterred. “What happened here?”
Unconsciously, you met James’ eyes. “Quiddtich accident.” You replied quickly, the lie easily slipping past your lips. “Fell off my broom, doesn’t hurt, though. I’m okay.”
“Quidditch!” She exclaimed, chuckling as she turned to James who smiled in return to avoid giving you away. “Honestly, what is it with my children and Quidditch? Can’t wait to see your dad’s face— Speaking of! He must be driving himself mad waiting for us! Come, come! Dear, you need help with your trunk?”
“I’m okay—” You replied and she quickly turned to shepherd everyone out of the plaform.
“Here,” Remus walked to you, taking the handle from your shaky hand, hard to notice to the blind eye, but he knew better, he was familiar. You frowned, and he made his voice extra quiet as he spoke, “I know you can manage but you’re going to make them worse, and by the time we get to the manor everyone will notice. It’s no problem, really.”
You stared at him, then at James who pretended to listen as Sirius and your mother fussed over Regulus, who would join you for the first time for the holidays. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and you forced yourself to look back at Remus, he smiled kindly as you nodded mutely and trailed behind the group. A comfortable silence falling between you both.
—
Potter manor seemed to stay stuck in time, with its beautiful pillars and big stained glass windows letting in colorful rays of sunshine when the english countryside allowed it. You looked through the window at your mother’s lovely garden she devoted herself to during springtime, surely to kill time when your dad was busy at work and her children away at school, her caring nature evident in the way all the flowers grew beautifully, despite the current cold weather. You sighed, and walked away ready to face your hideous fate, your secret stash of healing potions and your scars ready to be tended to.
You stopped short in front of your bed, Pandora’s present small in contrast to your belongings sprawled all over your bedding. It had her touch all over the decoration, even if the card claimed it was from both Rosier twins, the silver bow and colorful wrapping paper showing her peculiar taste. Your shaky hand hovered over the ribbon and gently tugged it to open the box, where you found a pretty aquamarine necklace along with a soft pair of green knitted mittens sitting neatly enveloped by tissue paper. You smiled and wasted no time to try and put the necklace around your neck, ignoring the fact that your shaky hands would make the task nearly impossible.
You were about to throw the necklace across the room in desperation when you heard a light knock on the door.
“Yes?” You managed to speak out, a sob begging to leave your lips. There was silence on the other side and you briefly wondered if you imagined the whole thing. “What?”
“Can I come in?” Sirius said quietly, and you frowned, but replied a quiet yes before turning your back to the door. “Hi,” He said as he stepped in, careful in his movements.
“Hi,” You echoed quietly, looking around the room to avoid meeting his eyes.
Sirius stared at the necklace in your hand and the discarded box in the other, “Need help with that?”
“I’m okay,” You followed his gaze and shook your head, knowing well it was a losing battle with the piece of jewelry. “I was just untangling it,” You said, barely believing it, and by his face, Sirius didn’t seem to believe you, either.
He stepped closer to you, his movements more confident. “Let me help you,” You opened your mouth to protest, but ended up handing him the necklace, knowing it was a losing battle arguing with him, too. “Stubborn thing you are, trying to put on this tiny necklace when your hands are shaking like a leaf.” He pointed as he stood behind you.
A silence followed, and you stared down at your hands, suddenly insecure in the way they trembled, another souvenir from your fellow housemate’s attack.
“I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
“They’re not very noticeable,” He allowed, gently tugging your shoulders to make you face him. “But sadly, love, I am very familiar with these kinds of things.” His grey eyes pointedly looked at the blood dots peeking through your bandages from your jumper. “I would change those before supper if I were you.”
You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you. Is this why you came here? Is the food ready?”
He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, and nodded his head. “Yes, um… Mum told me she made you some of your vegan requests.”
“Oh,” You frowned, and he chuckled quietly at the surprise in your face. “I’ll be down in a moment… I have to…”
“I know,” He nodded, then made to walk out the door but paused on the threshold, turning to face you once again. “You know… James, he’s really trying, it’s just… He doesn’t know how to reach out.”
A beat.
“Was it hard for you? To reach out to Regulus? After everything?”
He seemed to be taken aback with your question, frowning and very clearly about to tell you to mind your sodding business, but then his eyes got a very sad look that you despised. You both dreaded and hoped for his answer.
“It was difficult, yes, but because of the way we were raised, not because there wasn’t love, it was just very tangled with other things, confusion, anger and resentment… But the love persevered. I think… I think that’s what made it bearable, that at the end of the day we loved each other despite everything.”
You nodded, visibly not satisfied with his answer. “I get that, but… you said it yourself, it was hard because of the way you were raised so… what is stopping James?”
Sirius seemed pretty close to tears himself, feeling for you and frustrated at the way James acted. Honestly not even himself could explain the way James handled everything since you both were sorted, admittedly he hadn’t known him long enough back then to be confused by the evident indifference towards you, but as he grew to know you both, that confusion grew in significance. It couldn’t have been the same James that offered him his home without thinking twice when he learned the hell that was Grimmauld Place, it was hard for Sirius to think that James held some resentment towards his sister for being sorted into Slytherin when he himself despised Sirius’ parents for disowning him for being a Gryffindor. You didn’t seem to be particularly fond of the pureblood supremacy ideologies your house held, either; keeping to yourself and to your friends, the Rosier twins and occasionally Regulus as of lately, and the gentle way you carried yourself through the hallways. He often wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake.
“I… I don’t know, sweetheart,” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I don’t think this is a conversation for me to participate in.”
“It’s alright,” You nodded, once again swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll be down in a minute.” You said before marching towards your bathroom, closing the door behind you.
Sirius sighed, feeling very angry at himself for the way he managed to mess it all up in a matter of seconds. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he turned his face to meet both Remus and his brother’s sad eyes, he shrugged sadly and closed the door to your room quietly. A few seconds later, Lily walked out of her own room, immediately taking notice of the three boys sadly staring at your door and ushered them all to the dinning room, a sad look in her own eyes as she tried to ignore the knot in her stomach.
—
You stared blankly at a spot next to your father‘s face as you pretended to listen to his very heated debate with James about where should the next Quidditch Cup be. The food long gone and conversations passed in a daze as you ate supper and managed to participate here and there and answer the questions directed to you. You unconsciously thumbed the precious gemstone resting in your chest, the repetitive action helped you make the shakiness in your hands less evident.
You sat in a wingback chair, making a cocoon of yourself as you watched your brother and his friends happily chatting away to different topics, you watched as he occasionally grabbed Lily’s hand and kissed it, or the way he reached over his girlfriend to shove Sirius’ shoulder, mischief glistening behind his glasses. You knew you were being a killjoy, your pain almost an imposition in their delightful conversation had they noticed, if they ever did, or let them notice, you bitterly thought.
“Oh, darling,” Suddenly you had a handkerchief shoved to your nose. You frowned, but let your mother’s hand cradle your face back. “You almost stained your jumper,” Horrified, you noticed that your nose was bleeding, a common occurrence since the incident.
“Sorry,” You mumbled, trying to look away from her eyes, slowly filling with worry. “Don’t know what happened there, strange.”
“Good thing your mum has good reflexes,” your dad pointed, chuckling and blissfully unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Growing up with you lot gave her reflexes of steel, she would’ve been a killer Seeker.”
“Let that go, honey,” Your mum added distractly, looking into your eyes, searching for… what? You were not sure, but her scrutiny made you nervous. “Are you okay?”
You inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling very warm. “Yes, I can take it, mum–” You made to raise your hand to take the handkerchief from her, her eyes falling on your hands.
“Are you cold?”
“What? No. I’m fine.”
“But you’re shaking.” She argued, and you found yourself slowly losing your patience at her questioning. “Are you sure you’re—”
“Can everyone stop asking me that? I said I’m fine.” You spat, shocking everyone into silence, even yourself. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, I…Yes, I’m alright.”
Somewhere from the floor came a scoff and you felt dread recoiling around your ribcage. You lowered the handkerchief from your face to see James dryly chuckling at you, his hazel eyes holding a fire that was only reserved for… Horrified, you realized he was about to tell your parents everything.
“James,” You whispered, pleading with your eyes to force him to take a step back. But your brother seemed done covering for you. “Please don’t.”
“James?” Your mother turned to him, who in return stood up from his spot on the floor, Lily reached out to pull him down again. “Is anyone going to fill me in as to what’s gotten into you both?”
He stared hard at you, then, “She was attacked.”
And just as the words slipped past his lips, chaos ensued with your parents, neither of them expecting those words to leave James’ lips. The air was sucked out of your lungs, and you reached to press the heel of your hand to your sternum, as if that would help your lungs accept the air you desperately seeked. You were not sure where you got the strength, but you marched towards him, betrayal in your eyes.
“You have no right,” You sneered, meeting his stormy gaze, he looked down at you, both your bodies pulsating with unresolved anger. “You promised!”
“I did not promise a damn thing to you. You’re my sister, and I cannot simply sit back and watch you fade away from us, can I?”
You scoffed. “It didn’t stop you before, hasn’t it?” He stepped back, as if your words alone had slapped him across his face. Your parents watched the scene with horror. “You’re my sister, you’re a liar. You made it very clear I am very much not your sister, James. In fact, I think you made it very clear to everyone that anyone can be accepted into your fucking marauders club except me.”
“Wait, so this is why you’re so miffed with me? Because I didn’t let you in the Marauders?” James had the nerve to laugh, and you stared at him in shock. “You have officially lost the plot, grow up, I beg you.”
“James!”
“No, James,” You met him head on, storm in your eyes as you tried to find your words. “Contrary to what your ego-driven mind might think, not everyone wants to be part of your glorified freak show.” You said, not at all regretting the venom in your voice. “You left me. You… you don’t even try, you think that just because you fought for me, breaking Snape’s nose, everything would be forgiven?”
“Look at what he did to you!” He pointed, squirming a finger inside the neckline of your jumper, pulling down to show everyone the bandage in your shoulder. You slapped his hand away with anger, but he grabbed your hand and raised it for everyone to see. “You can barely function with these shakes, look, you can barely put on a necklace!”
“James, stop,” Came Remus’ stern voice from somewhere in the room.
At this, your glossy eyes turned to Sirius, who, until that moment, had managed to sit back calmly and not let the whole ordeal get to him. He looked away as your betrayal was evident in your eyes.
“That wasn’t for you to tell, Sirius.” You said to him quietly, anger barely contained.
“Well, I, for one, am glad he told me. You could’ve gone the entire break hiding it from us had it not been for Sirius.”
“Like hiding it is such a hard task.” You snapped. “You barely notice my presence let alone a silly shake in my hands. I could’ve died that day and you wouldn’t have noticed at all, James.”
“You damn right could’ve bloody died! Go on, show them,” He stepped closer, and you barely registered his intention until it was too late.
With the help of his reflexes, you were a beat too late to stop him from lifting the hem of your jumper, exposing some of the fully healed scars in your stomach, the biggest one cutting through your navel in a nasty gash. Your mother gasped and her eyes filled with tears immediately, your father stared in shock, despair evident in his eyes. You pushed James away with all the strength you could muster, accidentally pushing your mother in the process, and pulled your jumper back down.
“You’re a complete, utter, dickhead, James.” You stared at him in shock, so did everyone in the room. “Fuck you, seriously, fuck you.”
“Darling,” Your mother stepped to you, but you were too mortified to even accept her hug. “How long… How did this…” She seemed desperate to find the right words to say, but a sob left her lips instead. You finally allowed the tears in your eyes to trail down your cheeks. “Why didn’t you say?”
“What would I even say?” You said desperately in between shallow breaths, your usually calm demeanor breaking. “That I was so depressed I riled him up so he could hurt me? That I didn’t even fight back? How was I supposed to explain that, mum? Tell me,” Before you could even process it, the feelings you had bottled up for months seemed to be done being held back in your chest. You chuckled humorlessly, “How would that conversation even go? That I’m so miserable, though I have no reason to be, that I walked towards the one person who would surely hurt me and enjoy it? This, exactly, is why I didn’t say. But here comes bloody James Potter who has to be everyone’s fucking hero! Are you happy now, James? Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to thank you in front of everyone that you saved my honor by hurting Snape? Well, there you go. Now leave me the fuck alone.”
Had you been less blinded by your anger, you probably would’ve waited for anyone to speak, or at last apologize for the amount of curse words you managed to say in a span of 20 seconds, but you simply exhaled deeply and stormed off towards your room, where you surely would spend the rest of your days crying away in embarrassment at the situation. Your tears fell hot and fast as you slammed the door behind you and sat on your bed, ignoring the stinging sensation in your shoulder by your harsh movements. Your hands shook impossibly harder to the point of actual pain in your joints, and pressed your face to your hands as you cried hard. Your sobs loud enough to drown the chaos from downstairs, your own doing, you thought angrily.
The door to your room opened, your brain too shaken up and confused, you opened your mouth to speak but a pained sob left your lips instead. Remus’ brows pinched with sadness as he walked to you, your disheveled hair, tear streaken cheeks and the dried trail of blood down your nose an exact mirror of your inner turmoil. He stepped closer and stretched his arms out, an open invitation in case you didn’t want to be touched, but you desperately needed something or someone to ground you before you could definitely reach a full blown breakdown. A breakdown days in the making.
“You’re okay,” He said as you stepped into his arms. He carefully caged you in, keeping you secure as you felt your chest shreding to pieces as you let out sob after sob. “No one is mad at you, we’re not, I promise you, not your mum, not your dad, no one. You’re okay.” He whispered, close to tears himself.
Soon, you felt a hand rubbing your back carefully, then, Lily’s gentle voice spoke, “Take deep breaths, honey,”
“I… I can’t,” You scraped out, voice raspy and worn out. “I…”
“Do it with me,” She instructed, and you pulled away from your hideaway to meet her gaze. Lily smiled sadly as she gently grabbed your hand and raised it to her own chest, where you felt her own heart beating, “Follow me, okay? You can.”
You inhaled and exhaled deeply, and she did it with you. As she busied you with breathing exercises, Remus walked to your bathroom to grab a cloth and damp it with warm water, when he walked back to your room, you seemed visibly calmer. He silently passed the cloth to Lily and sat beside you on the bed, she looked into your eyes and gently pressed it to your lips and under your nose, no-doubtedly cleaning the blood and snot off your face. None of you dared to speak, the only sound in the room the occasional hiccup leaving your lips, the fight leaving you tired and numb.
“I don’t know what crossed his mind to do that,” Began Lily, pointedly keeping her voice monotone to not spark another collapse from you. “That was very…”
“Barbaric?” Remus supplied, him not trying to keep his anger away from his tone. Lily frowned at him.
“Unlike him.” She said, then turned to you. “What he said, what he did… That was very cruel.”
“Yeah, well… I seem to always bring out the cruelest parts of him.” You finally spoke, and she hushed you to not strain your voice more.
“I think he’s very angry at himself, and he stupidly managed to show it in the worst way possible.” Remus pointed, the fight leaving his body as he gingerly placed a loose hair behind your ear. “It was very obvious to everyone that you were struggling but it passed right above him…”
“He didn’t need to make such a spectacle of himself though, and me. We could’ve talked it, if he had asked.”
Both Remus and Lily gave you a deadpan look.
“Okay, maybe not at first but why is it always me the one that has to reach out? I’m tired of embarrassing myself seeking for his attention.”
“You’re right,” The three of you looked up to find James standing at the threshold of your bedroom, a mix of feelings displayed in his face, regret being the most evident. “And I’m sorry.”
Lily looked at you, and you met her green eyes. She frowned, are you sure? Her eyes asked, and you nodded, grabbing the cloth from her hand. Both stood up and walked to leave, Lily ignoring the pleading look from her boyfriend as she closed the door behind her. The room fell eerily quiet as you stared at each other, assessing your stances.
“I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said,” You mumbled, looking down at the cloth in your hands.
“I’m sorry,” He repeated, as he walked closer, you tensed immediately and something inside his chest cracked. “I shouldn’t have… I… It wasn’t my place.”
You closed your eyes, succumbing to the tears forming in your eyes and brought the cloth to clean your cheeks.
“I told you to not say anything, James. Why didn’t you listen? I… I don’t want mum or dad to get in between our mess.”
“Our mess,” He echoed, sitting next to you on the bed when you showed no signs of backing away again. “I did make a mess of everything, didn’t I?”
“It has always been, I was just the only one willing to see it as that.”
James frowned. “That’s not true.” He exhaled deeply, searching for your eyes. “I… I know I haven’t been the best brother to you but, but I wouldn’t say it reached a point where you feel like you can’t tell me anything.”
“James,” You chuckled dryly, not even trying to argue again but to get him to see where you were coming from. “You don’t even acknowledge me back at school, you practically pretend I don’t exist.”
“I’m sorry.”
“See, you keep saying that, but I don’t hear reasons why I should forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t forgive me, angel. In fact, what happened downstairs is the least punishment imaginable you could throw at me.” His chest filled with hope when you chuckled wetly. “I just… When I saw you in that cot, bleeding out and barely conscious, I felt like a part of me was being torn away… I had never felt so helpless in my life, knowing you would be taken away from me that easily and that I never tried to reach out? It’s been eating me alive, especially when you have been so calm about it, now I know why,”
You looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why I said it.”
“See, I think you did mean it. And it’s okay,” James scooted closer, his hand reached to yours in question, you placed it over his. He squeezed it four times, and you smiled despite the sadness in your heart. The mighty Potter duo, your own way of consoling each other when you were children. “Just, let me try again? Be a brother?”
“You never stopped being my brother, James, not to me.”
“To me neither, I’m still your brother, even if I haven’t shown it how you deserve it. But,” He paused, searching for your eyes, “Promise me that you’ll stop drifting away, that you’ll be in a distance where I can reach you.”
You swallowed, but nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to have it get this bad, I just, I just wanted you to notice me.” Something inside you broke, and so did your voice. Thankfully, you were close enough for James to reach over and hug you gently. “I didn’t realize you wanted to talk to me, or… or get closer. I’m sorry, I’ll stay close. I promise.” You whispered, and reached out to squeeze his hand, four times.
“I hope you can forgive me for what happened downstairs, too… I don’t… I just got so angry at myself, and… and you, but I shouldn’t have aired your pain like that.” He spoke after a long silence, voice barely contained as he fought back his own sob, not because he didn’t want to cry, but to get his feelings known. “It’s okay if it takes a while, too, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret it… I do.” I regret everything I did, it’s the bit he didn’t say, but you heard it clear in the pain in his voice.
You nodded, feeling satisfied with the heart to heart, “It might take a while, but thank you.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and closed your eyes, finally letting your body relax against your brother.
Your brother, who was there, willingly, hugging you. It was a nice feeling to fall asleep to, you thought as you drifted off. James looked down as your head got heavier, and noticed in your parted lips that you had fallen asleep at some point of your shared silence. He smiled, and helped you get fully into the bed, carefully placing your belongings away.
He made to leave, but you pulled him back, your voice heavy with sleep, “Stay?”
And James, even in his drowsy state, couldn’t fight back the happiness he felt in his heart. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him, and laid next to you, your hands clasped together as you both drifted away holding onto each other, very much like you did once upon a time when you were little.
In your desk, messily thrown along with your things by James, was Pandora’s gift, and a note in neat handwriting that said:
Happy christmas sweet girl. Aquamarine, your birthstone, is said to possess healing properties known to cure even the most devastating of heartbreaks and tame the most powerful oceans into tranquility and peace. It also gives the bearer hope and clarity. Love, Evan and Pandora Rosier.
part one. tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. tech analyst!reader. early-s1!spencer. a/n: tech analyst!reader won’t leave my little brain. i hope u like this :) requests are open !
You were 21 when you got recruited into the bureau. Barely a graduate, and already on a FBI watchlist. Honestly, the only reason you’re under their watchful eyes is because of a lapse in judgment.
To celebrate the semester ending, your roommate decided that you both needed to get drunk. Being a psychology major with a pre-med roommate leads to tequila shots in your own dorm room. It’s the convenience and comfort of your own space that got you so drunk. This situation led to this: you admitting to your roommate, with heavy eyes, that you can “hack, you know. I learned when I was 15.”
She sat up from her place on the floor.
“Really? I don’t believe you!” she giggles, and then hiccups.
“I so can!” there’s indignation and a want to prove yourself in the tone of your voice.
“Okay, show me!”
Shuffling on heavy feet, you plop down in front of your laptop. A few clicks and the comforting clacks of your keyboard, and then a window pops open. You look at the wide-gaped mouth of your roommate. “What are you hacking?”
You hum, “I don’t know.”
And then you remember the talk from a few days ago. Two agents from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit came over to your college to talk about criminal profiling to psychology majors and anyone else interested.
Completely inebriated, you manage to hack into their database. Your hazy mind doesn’t forget to compliment the beauty and intricacy of the codes and firewalls you broke down.
At Quantico, Virginia, Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia rushes into her unit chief’s office.
“Sir, somebody is attempting to get into my system. I think they’re trying to communicate?”
Hotch follows Garcia into her office, the quickness of their steps catching the attention of Dr. Spencer Reid who was seated at his desk, skimming over a case report.
When Hotch gets into Penelope’s ‘lair’, his eyes squint, adjusting to the dimmed lights and bright screens. On the main monitor, a window displaying the barebones of a text chat is open.
<ATHEN411> ????
<ATHEN411> hiiiiidfgsd
<YOU> Who is this?
<ATHEN411> ohymgofd i didnt think anyonewould alsnwer
<ATHEN411> wh o it sthis?
<YOU> BAU Section Chief Aaron Hotchner.
<ATHEN411> omfdg i know uuu !! jason mentoined u
<YOU> Jason?
<ATHEN411> yhuhh jason digeon or sumn omg i cant tpoye
<ATHEN411> sorry
<YOU> Jason Gideon? How do you know him?
<ATHEN411 disconnected.>
You’ve completely forgotten about the conversation. Until, a few days later. You’re turning the corner of the hallway to get into your dorm. Backpack slung on a shoulder, arms full of your laptop, binders and a soft-bound copy of your final paper. You stop in your tracks when you see two men stationed outside your room’s door.
One man was in a shirt, jeans, and combat boots. He also had sunglasses on. The other had a permanent furrow to his brows, dressed formally in a suit and tie.
“Hi, can I help you?” you ask, hand reaching into your hoodie pocket for your keys and pepper spray.
The one in sunglasses holds up a badge and ID.
“FBI. I’m Agent Morgan, this is Agent Hotchner. Are you Y/N L/N?”
You gulp, wondering why they knew your name.
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“Can we talk somewhere private?”
Your bring out your keys, and you notice how Agent Hotchner eyes the pepper spray keychained to it.
“Um, yeah. We can talk inside? My roommate’s still out.”
You unlock your door and walk in, the agents following in after you. Dropping your bag on your desk chair, you turn to ask the agents, “How can I help you?”
Agent Hotchner asks, “Are you familiar with the name athen-four-one-one?”
You look up at them guilty.
“It’s athena-eleven.”
“So, it’s you?” Agent Morgan clarifies.
“Yes. How did you find me?”
The two men share a glance. A silent conversation passing with you unknowing.
“Two nights ago, you hacked into the BAU’s database.”
You look at them in suprise, “I did?”
“Yes,” Agent Hotchner says, passing a folder to you. Inside are images and a transcript of messages shared between a ‘P.GARCIA’ and ‘ATHEN411’.
“Oh my god,” you whisper, realizing what’s happening.
“I was drunk off my ass two nights ago! I’m so sorry,” that catches Agent Morgan’s attention.
“You were drunk?”
“Yeah, my roommate and I were celebrating our exams. I didn’t… Am I in trouble?”
Agent Hotchner raises a hand in a placating gesture, “You were drunk when you hacked into the bureau’s database?” Confusion and slight amusement evident in the tone of his voice.
“Yeah,” you confess, “It was just a dare! I don’t even remember much of it.”
Agent Morgan looks as if he doesn’t know what to think about the situation. You feel the same. Agent Hotchner extends a hand to get the file back from you, and you give it to him easily.
“Would you go with us back to the station?”
“What? For what? Am I being sued?”
“The opposite. I would like to conduct a proper interview.” Agent Hotchner explains.
“An interview? For what?”
“A job as a technical analyst at Quantico.”
You look at them, eyes furrowing in confusion and disbelief, “What? I can’t!”
“Why not?”
You gesture toward your desk, “I still have a paper to pass!”
Meeting Penelope Garcia was like a dream come true.
“I should have realized! The triple-stacked firewall should’ve been so obvious! The Black Queen signature!”
The blonde’s eyes sparkle, happy to meet a match.
“Athena-Eleven! I didn’t even notice you were in my systems until you sent your first message.”
You feel your chest puff up at the indirect praise.
“You were one of my idols,” you admit, “Your exposé on Griffith Industries was just… stunning! Absolutely flawless. You had a section in your code that I used to build my private server—” Agent Hotchner interrupts your spiel.
He gestures to the rest of the room, where agents were seated at a round table.
“This is Y/N L/N, the unit’s newest technical analyst. ” he says, and you give a shy wave. You get a wave back from the agent wearing glasses. He’s cute. Have you seen him before?
“This is Jennifer Jareau, our communications liaison,” you shake her outstretched hand. She’s so pretty, you start to think, gorgeous blue eyes too.
“You’ve met Derek Morgan,” Agent Hotchner says, and Agent Morgan gives a two finger salute, his hands wrapped around a coffee cup.
“Agent Jason Gideon,” you return his handshake, mumbling a shy; “Hello, sir. Nice to see you again.”
And then, “This is Dr. Spencer Reid—”
“Oh! You were with Agent Gideon at the seminar! You talked a bit about geoprofiling, and how an unsub’s subconscious can’t help but stick close to home, which helps you triangulate the—” Agent Hotchner lets out another soft cough.
“Um, yeah. I did. Nice to meet you,” he gives another small wave, smile close-lipped and awkward. Endearing. He’s really cute. “I don’t really shake hands.”
You nod, “I get that, germs and stuff. It’s actually, weirdly, safer to kiss.”
You don’t see the way JJ and Derek look at each other, nor do you notice when Penelope whispered, “Oh my God, there’s two of them.”
“Your code name, it’s for the Athena, right? The Greek goddess of wisdom, warfare, and handicraft?” Dr. Reid asks you, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Yeah. I love greek mythology.”
He gives you a smile, “I do, as well. I’m wondering about the eleven though. Does it mean anything?”
You tsk’d through your teeth, “The angel number 1111’s often seen as a spiritual wake-up call and awakening. I thought it was fitting, and I was 15 when I chose the name, okay? Excuse little old me.”
“That’s cool,” Dr. Reid admits. If he remembers your file right, you were barely 17 when you became a trademark and known name in underground hacking circles. He can’t properly meet your eyes, struck in awe. Athena. It’s perfect for you.
“Y/N formally starts her job with us in three days,” Hotch informs the team, “Be kind.”
With a final word, Gideon and Hotch start to return to their offices.
Derek straightens from his position on the office chair. “I am very kind!”
“He didn’t say anything about you,” Penelope teases.
“Ooh, that says a lot, Morgan. It says so much,” JJ teases back.
You smile at them, your new co-workers, taking the seat JJ was gesturing at for you. The three continue bickering, you start to tune them out as you make eye contact with Dr. Reid. The apple of his cheeks blush red, and you can’t stop the grin on your lips from getting wider. He’s downright enchanting.
me: man my job sucks i want to play video games or somethin
the nefarious anglerfish:
Oooh there is this one grill the grid of guessing childhood photo of a driver, I just know that every drivers would be cooing while looking at her photo
ARGHHHH
"oh! oh, how—" lewis would pause in utter awe as his eyes were trained at little you, flashing her toothy grin! albeit missing a tooth
"that is the single most cutest thing i have ever seen. where did you get this?!" george exclaims giddily, harping on about how adorable and polite you look
"come on now, tell me you can look at her and say no?" carlos just shakes his head resolutely, resigned with his fate; he'll give the world niños and niñas that look like you and spoil them with everything they could ever want AND need—
"i know this! i see her all the time during karting with charles!" max exclaims, pointing at you, "she used to sit there all silently, i don't know how interesting it was, watching these kart zoom around in circles. but she was always well behaved..." he narrates happily, looking at you fondly. "prettiest g—"
"prettiest girl ever," pierre grins as he looks at baby you, adoration clear as a day in his eyes, you with your little dimple popping on your chubby cheeks. "no one in the grid would ever exceed this level of cuteness. none!"
"everyone else can go home. pack it up." lando just snaps his fingers, "the game is done. this baby picture has defeated all babies." he hugs the picture close to his chest, "i would protect her with my life"
"this is my baby," charles brightens as he sees the picture, smiling fondly as he recalls the days where you would run at him with little wobbly steps and call him sha fondly! he was getting a little choked up. "she's still this small in my eyes. oh man." he sniffles, "is she in the studio? i will see her right away."
your heart is a muscle the size of a rat
Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Welt x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, kissing, hide and seek, slight predator/prey play, neck kisses, grinding, Reader getting pinned
A/N: Slightly naughty but mostly playful.
Blade loves a good game of hunt- er, of hide and seek with you. He's like a demon in the night, staying in the shadows while chuckling at you turning around yourself, looking for him until you saw a pair of crimson eyes staring back at you before you found yourself pinned against the dirt with a sword against your neck. This is part of the game right? It's not? Then what does he get for catching you? A kiss. Well it better be a damn good one. He's sure it will be, its from you after all.
Dan Heng wasn't interested until the topic of kissing came up. Now you have his attention, he likes kissing you a lot. And a little challenge doesn't sound that bad. He lets you escape him the first time but he's always just outside of your vision, appearing just to hold you in place long enough to get his kiss and then letting you push him away again and starting the count again. He can hide from you too but you get the feeling that even when you do you're still the one at a major disadvantage when compared to him.
Gepard sees this a great opportunity to sharpen both your skills and have fun while you're at it. So go ahead, he's very confidant in his ability to find you. He... does not. He's good in combat but sneaking around and smoking people out is not one of his strengths. You actually end up winning the first round and now its his turn to hide. Turns out he's better at that part, but only a little. Still he has a lot of fun while doing it, especially when one of the rules is that the loser has to give a kiss to the winner which... it leaves you both winners and covered with smudged lipstick by the end.
Jing Yuan relishes in this game with you. The mere mention has his eyes lighting up with excitement and has his inner lion coming out to play. You can hide wherever you want he'll always be able to track you down, his eyes zeroing in on you, snaking up on you and pouncing on his cute prey. He has you pinned down completely, his hands holding your wrists, his legs at your sides and most importantly his mouth, his teeth at your neck like the true king of beasts that he is rumored and now shown himself to be. Do the teeth marks hurt? He can kiss them better when he carries you to the warm baths.
Luocha really, really didn't want to play but he folds against your whims like always. The coffin he carried will be the base where he will be counting from but he will spend a long time there even after he's done, thinking over the best strategy. You almost get bored in your hiding spot. Then he starts moving, every move careful and mindful of his surroundings. He knows you're not far, he just needs to keep his coffin within his field of vision and you will come to him. He was right, except he's not fast enough, tackling you to the dusty ground only after you've made the save. He does not like this game very much. No, even after you promise him the reward that is you, all night, however he wants.
Welt would rather hide then seek. He finds it simpler, more exciting if you're the one doing the chasing for once. You like it too don't lie, looking out for him and then both of you making a mad dash, only for him to pull you against him and pin you against the wall with his body and lips. Oh didn't you know? He chose you as his home base, meaning all he needed to do was touch you and he would win. Clever huh? Not fair? Of course it is. Why? Because your lips will be too busy with his to argue.
all posts related to the main dukedom au and its spinoffs will be here!
original Dukedom au: first part + part two
1. baby fever + 2 + 3 2. lipstick and kisses 3. terms of endearment 4. dolling up 5. simon and johnny find out about graves 6. how did it start? 7. Graves and Reader first meeting? 8. what if reader's baby does not look like john? 9. Genuine fondness between graves and reader? 10. baby girl 11. mini-reader baby boy 12. more than a commodity 13. post-request 14. does simon need a wife? 15. what is graves like?
Spinoff angsty dukedom with konig + part two
angsty dukedom, no konig