#I’m so sorry for disappearing I’ve had intense anxiety as well

[devotionbled]

It is almost 11pm at night. And I’m here to gush and to be back on my wee bullshit before disappearing. I am awfully busy with final assessments in uni and preparing for my trip to South America in two weeks. Shuate will always have a special place in my heart. They were my first ship with my closest writing partner whom I am to meet in a little bit in their country (I’m travelling all the way from Australia!) should the stars align perfectly.

Jote will always be my baby.

But. Do you ever think how Jote has seen Joshua through everything? Do you ever think she is fond of his peace despite her own volatile, subtle storm of a nature? The thing that still sends me to this day, is the way she was going to shank a literal child.

Which brings me to… a thread that could fascinate me: is Barnabas and Jote. Let me explain, y’all. In her loyalty to Joshua, and the religious indoctrination of the Undying, the lack of self-perseveration, there is stewing gloom. Joshua is, and always will be her moral compass. But you still have this girl who was taught immolation is required for forgiveness and survival.

You see silvers of hell in moments of immorality: such as her willingness to draw a blade on Kihel if she was a threat.

What else is she willing to do?

That aside. I think any thread with Barnacles and Jote would be thought provoking because it means I can delve into the fact—if circumstances were different, he would be the reflection of her. If she did not have Joshua and that close knit bond from a young age of watching over him, she’d be hell a lot more cold with just the Undying’s teachings: most likely delving into ritual slaughter and further decay.

[erodasfishtacos]

Cheating!h blurb where ana asks why they dont have sex or at a party and she’s trying to pull him into a room and y/n watching him try to make excuses and then next time having sex with y/n he says anna keeps trying and she has the pride he doesnt give in... or something exploring that situation

warnings: smut, cheating, angst

“Anna, I just-“ Harry huffs as she tugs him into a spare bedroom of the party after he had put up a valiant fight to keep them in the main area.

Her hands are unbuttoning his already barely buttoned shirt, running down his bare skin, and he is cut off by a sloppy kiss to his mouth.

Fear shoots up through him, it’s not YN, he doesn’t want this with her.

“C’mon, it’s been almost six months and you still haven’t touched me. Just fuck me,” Anna complains, fed up with the lack of or more like nonexsistence of their sex life.

It was near impossible to believe, someone like Harry who oozed sex out of every pore of his body wasn’t sexually active or interested in fucking his girlfriend.

When Anna takes a different approach of going for his belt buckle, mouth trailing against his collarbone, and attempting to get to his groin - which hadn’t hardened in the slightest.

“Enough,” Harry states firmly, grasping her wrists lightly and making her look at him, “I don’t want to have sex right now, okay?”

His girlfriend’s face falters, “You never want to.”

“If you don’t like it break up with me,” He hisses, knowing YN is going to get suspicious the longer they’re in a room together.

Anna, who really did have a kind heart, frowns, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I would never force you to.”

Harry just rebuttons his shirt, “S’fine. Let’s just get back to the party and have a good time, yeah?”

She nods as Harry swings his arm around her shoulder, unlocking the door, and pausing when he sees YN a bit of the ways down the corridor - staring at the two leaving the bedroom.

“I’m going to get a drink,” He dismisses bluntly, his focus set on the girl who was visible angry with him in the kitchen.

Before he can get out a word, she steps forward and swipes her thumb against his collarbone.

It comes back with the waxy substance of Anna’s bright mauve lipstick.

“Have fun in there, did you?” YN asks, she tries to keep her tone cool and unbothered by Harry sees right through it to the insecurity.

“You know I didn’t,” He replies between gritted teeth, how could she get jealous when this was all her?

He didn’t want a girlfriend.

Well he did but he only want her and she fucking knew that.

“If you wanted me to believe you, maybe you would have wiped her lipstick marks from your neck and chest,” She chuckles and it makes Harry’s hair on the back of his neck stand up.

It was the distinct chuckle and tone she used when she was upset but wasn’t going to admit it over her dead body.

Before he can call her out, she shoulders past him, disappearing into the dancing crowd of people and out of his side.

“Fuck,” He mutters, running a hand through his hair before trudging off to find Niall and Zayn - to distract himself.

-

“Stay the night, please?” Anna asks softly when Harry pulls up to her small, quaint little house that fit her perfectly.

“M’sorry. I have a long day tomorrow.”

It was a lie. It was rarer that he told the truth to his girlfriend than fibbing.

“So? Let’s cuddle, do something,” She begs, frustrated with her emotionally and sometimes physically distant boyfriend.

Harry shakes his head, “Maybe next weekend.”

He always said that.

It never happened.

—

As soon as he drops off Anna, his next stop is a route that is ingrained in his head front and backwards, her apartment.

He has a key, doesn’t bother knocking and just barges into the dimly lit house with her shoes tossed clumsily on the floor - almost trips.

When he finds her, she’s in a towel - freshly showered, and brushing through her hair in her small walk-in closet.

She heard him come in, knew he was storming in here, and still didn’t turn around when he slammed open her bedroom door.

He’s crowding behind her, knocking the brush out of her hand, and pinning her to the wall, “You’re so bloody ridiculous. You jealous little brat.”

YN doesn’t respond, her body still wound tight with tension and a gluttonous feeling of rage for earlier in the night.

“Been fuckin’ you and only you since I was seventeen. Y’know that I didn’t fuck her, didn’t even touch her and you still have the nerve to act like a crybaby,” Harry seethes, his whole chest pressed against her back, no room to escape.

“Her lipstick was all over you,” She argues back weakly when his hands come to the knot in her towel, teasing at unraveling.

“Yeah because she was begging me to fuck her and I said ‘no’ so she tried to get in my pants and I pushed her off.”

“Why?” YN murmurs, quiet in the small space.

“You fuckin’ know why,” Harry growls with his teeth grazing across her bare shoulder blade.

“Say it.”

“I pushed her off ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve fucked since I was seventeen. My cock is yours,” He rasps, untying the knot and letting the towel drop.

He wishes she would just end all this bullshit.

Let him have her fully and completely but she was so fucking afraid of getting hurt when it wouldn’t happen.

“Go on, tell me who owns this cunt,” Harry demands, hand tucking between her thick thighs to cup her puffy mound in his hand.

“H,” She whimpers as his finger lightly slides up the wet groove of her center with a careful drag.

When she doesn’t give him the answer he wants, he gives her clit a hard pinch, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yours, fuck - it’s yours,” YN huffs at the slight but welcome pain on her nerves - relaxing when it returns to soft strokes.

“Anna is pretty, y’know? Had her on me, kissing my neck, unbuttoning my shirt and shit,” Harry hums against her ear, two fingers sinking into the tight heat of her body.

He continues, “Didn’t even get hard when that happened. That’s how fucking trained I am for you. What a tight fucking leash you have me on.”

YN turns a bit into putty at his words, insecurity slow flooding out of her body, and feeling more like how she usually does.

“How do y’ever forget? How much I love you?” He asks in true disbelief, it literally oozes through his pores how much he adores his high school sweetheart.

“Don’t-“ She squeaks desperately.

“Why won’t you let me tell you how much I love you, baby?”

His voice like dark, sweet honey that seeps into her every nerve-ending and makes her feel lethargic, in a boneless silky way.

“Stop plea- Just touch me,” YN begs when his fingers crook into against her plushy, tight walls with focused strokes.

“You need to admit it, y’stubborn little thing. I know how in love you are with me,” Harry pushes, needing to hear validation from his favorite person on this earth.

He squats down, spreading her cheeks, and leaning in to lick from the top of clit all the way back to her other entrance.

His large palms keeping her apart, digging into the thick skin until his fingers are white - tongue finding her core and darting in to her most sensitive area.

“H, oh my god,” YN moans, head falling forward against the wall, pushing her hips backward into his mouth.

“Darling, c’mon. Show me how sweet y’can be f’me,” Harry goads encouragingly, it always took a little bit of effort to get her to break.

“I love you….s’much,” She whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he rewards her with a suckling kiss to her clit and slips his fingers back in.

“I know y’do, baby. You know I’d never give it to anyone but you,” Harry coos, anything to get her to soften her harsh edges, chip away at her stone wall.

Her hand reaches behind to weave through his hair, her stomach sucking in harshly as she feels her tight band snap as she releases.

“O-oh, you’re mine. Y’mine,” His love chants as she rides out her intense wave of her orgasm as he helps her through it.

“M’yours,” Harry agrees immediately, standing up and a smile breaks on his face when she turns around and wraps him into a hug.

“I love you. I know you didn’t touch her. I just hate it,” YN murmurs softly, undoing his shirt and sliding it off of his shoulders.

His smile fades at her words, “Then make it stop. The minute you tell me you’re ready to make this work, I’ll break up with her.”

“I’m no-not ready,” She stammers, eyes widening like a deer in headlights at his words.

So afraid. So fucking scared.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes when he sees her chest start to rise faster and faster with anxiety.

He doesn’t want to drop it.

He wants to shake her and ask her how the fuck she doesn’t see that they’re already in a relationship and she’s being blinded by irrational fears.

Harry waddles them over to her messy bed, pushing her back and adjusting until she’s in the center - staring at him with doe eyes.

He loves her so much it hurts to look at her for too long.

When he tugs off his jeans, taking his phone out to put on the side table - he sees an unread text from Anna.

I’m sorry about earlier. I really want to make it work with you. You’re a great guy x

Harry should feel bad. Maybe his stomach should have dropped or something at how awful he’s being to that girl.

But when his love is splayed out, pliant and malleable for him, he can’t find an ounce of fucks to give as he tosses it on the bedside table.

He had been in love with this girl since he was sixteen, never fell out of it, he was addicted to her - willing to go through all this bullshit if it meant he had her.

It always felt like the first time, crawling on top of her, and bending down to pull her puffy lips into a strong kiss as he slides in, always a pleasant stretch.

As they move together, in a familiar rhythm, she murmurs against his lips, “One day, I’ll be ready.”

“Please, make it soon, darlin’,” Harry pleas, swallowing harshly before pushing his emotions into hard, deep thrusts.

[mrsgiovanna]

Between guilt and obsession (Yan! Don Giorno x Fem! Reader)

A nonnie mouse asked how would the unhinged Don act if his s/o was almost killed, and this is how I imagined it. I'm sorry in advance my nonnie, 😅😢♥️💕🐞

TW: mentions of injuries, anxiety, yandere themes, implied death.

Word Count: 1.4k

The atmosphere inside the villa was miserable, devoid of any of the joy you usually colored the place with. Giorno, usually found in his study on days that he spent at home, was nowhere to be found either. The harrowing silence was broken by the sound of metal striking the marble flooring as the young Don emerged from the basement, wiping his bloodied hands on a towel, coloring the plush white cotton material red. There was no joy in his eyes, none of the sparkle that was usually there, the emeralds had been clouded over by moss.

Your eyelids felt weighted down as you attempted to pry them open with much difficulty. You realize that the bed you’re lying on doesn’t feel the same as the one you have grown accustomed to. Finally, able to sit up and take in your surroundings, you realized that you were in the main bedroom of the villa- you were in Giorno’s room. Your rooms had an adjoining door separating them, but you always spent most of your time in your own space. Feeling dizzy as you swung your legs off the bed, the events of the day came screaming back to you, and you were panic stricken once again, the only difference was that Giorno wasn’t there to help you manage your emotions- this time you were alone.

It started off like any other normal day… well as normal as could be in your sheltered little world. You were preparing to go out with Giorno when a knock on your door interrupted you while you put on your mascara. Continuing to primp your lashes, you found it odd when you heard the second knock, as the blond would usually just knock once and let himself in, but this time nobody walked in, prompting you to answer the door upon the third knock. Everything happened so quickly, you didn’t have time to react before the enemy’s arm ran through your body, feeling the searing pain and then nothing at all, your vision clouded over seeing a golden glow envelop your body, you were jolted back to lucidity for a moment when the most intense physical pain overtook your body… and then darkness again, the last sound you heard being Giorno’s guttural scream.

Giorno checked to ensure you were still alive, with his guards already having apprehended the offender who, he decided, would be dealt with by him, personally, later on. For now, his main concern was you and ensuring that you were okay. Being driven halfway to insanity by the large blood splatter in your room, he carried your unconscious body to his room. Gently laying you down on the bed, he waited for you to open your eyes once again, knowing that you were going to be inconsolable by anyone other than himself. Just as he predicted, you were in shock, and it took a lot of gentle coaxing to calm you down while he waited for the effects of the adrenalin to wear off, which resulted in you passing out again, this time, in a deep slumber as opposed to being on the precipice of death.

Having seen you teetering so close to demise under his watch, was a personal insult to his entire sense of being, and unfortunately for you both, something in him shattered. Locking you inside his room and further reinforcing the entrance with vines, he starts walking to the basement to deal with the offender, GER materializing next to him, with a similar expression of rage on their face, ready to dole out a punishment worse than death.

With the threats neutralized and security being amplified yet again, there was no longer any imminent danger… other than the damage done to Giorno’s psyche. When he came to unlock the doors and let you out, his entire demeanor had changed, his voice monotonous, and his displays of affection were robotic, as if he was running on autopilot. He had all your things moved from your room to his without entertaining any arguments, permanently sealing off the room that served as a reminder of his shortcomings.

In the days that followed, Giorno became more and more aloof, it seemed paradoxically, that the closer you were in physical proximity to one another, the further your minds drifted from each other. Even though you were ensnared by him under the most questionable circumstances, you grew to care for him, although you wondered if your yearning was exacerbated by the fact that nobody in the villa interacted with you as freely as they once did, due, in no small part, to Giorno no doubt. Knowing the limits to how much of this you could handle you resolved to speak to the young don about this, staying up so you could catch him just before he got into bed after his shower.

You watched him crack the joints in his neck and shoulders with a sigh before pulling on his sleepwear.

“Gio…” you said in a soft voice, not wanting to startle him.

“Oh… (y/n), I thought you were asleep.” He answered you with his back still facing you, getting the last bit of water out of his hair.

“I couldn’t fall asleep… Gio, talk to me… I know you’re not okay,”

“I’m fine,” his curt response annoyed you, but you pushed on with the conversation.

“You’re lying, I know how you usually are, and this isn’t it. Your entire attitude towards me has changed, it’s like you hate me,” saying that struck a nerve, as he stopped drying his hair to turn around and look at you, unsure of how to reply to something so absurd.

“You can’t even deny it… if you hate me so much, then just let me go. Just get rid of me, anything would be better than existing like some wilting rose in an ornate vase,” you were finally able to place the emotion flashing in his eyes, he was angry… still.

“Get rid of you? I see I’ve been too lenient with you…”

“Stop acting like this… You’re not like this… not with me anyway,”

“Clearly, you’ve forgotten who you’re speaking to…”

“I haven’t, but I’m tired of speaking to Don Giovanna, I want to talk to Gio,”

“He’s gone...” He hated doing this to you, but he needed desperately for you to stop goading him. his mind was a mess, he needed comfort from you, hoping you would get his silent hints.

“Oh? Well then, I wonder if he even existed at all?” the tears pricked at your eyes, but you willed them not to fall, not in the middle of this.

“Stop…” Giorno’s voice came out as a whisper.

“Oh? Possessions aren’t supposed to speak, I’m sorry Don Giovanna,”

“Please, (y/n), stop it…”

“What? You don’t like repeating yourself?”

“Why are you provoking me like this? What do you want from me?” shouted Giorno, fisting the mirror he was looking into, causing his knuckles to bleed.

“I want you to let out your frustration about what happened, let it go and move on, or this is going to kill us both… I hate seeing you like this, knowing that this isn’t really who you are, I hate what you’re becoming, and I hate how I react to you when you’re like this!” your tears unfortunately betrayed you and left shiny streams across your cheeks.

Giorno inched his way towards you, a mixture of guilt and sorrow plaguing his heart. He didn’t want this incident to end up affecting you anymore than it already had but his inability to shake off his guilt combined with the austere instructions given to all his staff managed to create a miserable existence for you. Being blinded by his own rage and flashbacks to all the times he wasn’t able to save his precious allies, turned him into the very thing he swore to protect you from.

“(y/n) … bella, I’m sorry… none of this is your fault, and I could never hate you. I…” you saw the light slowly seep back into his eyes, vibrant emeralds regaining their shine, glossy with pent up emotions.

“Shhh, it will be okay,” you gently grasp his bloodied hand, “Why aren’t you fixing this? It looks painful… I know you have the ability to do so” you propose to him, touching the area of own former injury.

Contemplating whether or not to just leave his hand the way it was to serve as a reminder, the expectant look on your face convinced him otherwise, the softest of smiles blooming on your face when the wounds disappeared. It was then that Giorno realized that as much as he had orchestrated your need for him, perhaps he needed you around even more.

[madswonders]

A Lesson In Romance #10: Thoughts

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Implied anxiety, Mentions of canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they're paired together on a case.

A/N: I know that the BAU's conference room has big-ass glass windows but just imagine that the blinds are closed for the entirety of this chapter aha. Also this chapter is a doozy... like 1k words longer than usual, so enjoy!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

---------

As Peter Gizzi once described the phenomena of love, "About you there is nothing I wouldn’t want to know / With you nothing is simple yet nothing is simpler."

In high school, your reputation always preceded you. The cynic that never had a boyfriend, much less a drunken one-night stand; a prude who waited over ten dates to have her first kiss; or the "ice queen" who kept her emotions locked up and threw away the key.

If they saw you now, you wondered if they would laugh at how you've changed; because these days, you looked like you were keeping the best secret in the world, one that threatened to burst from your lips every time you smiled.

What you didn’t know, is that you didn't need to be a profiler to see it. From the bubbling laughter and whispered conversations, to the not-so-secret longing glances. You and Spencer disappeared into your own world when you were together, and everybody knew it.

And for the first few weeks, that was enough. You found it easier than usual to ignore the thoughts that lurked in the back of your mind. That is, until you couldn't.

"... I want you and Spencer to work on the geographic profile." Hotch had announced, and you remembered the feeling of your blood running cold.

There were two reasons for this. First was the fact that this case linked twenty homicides across three years to a single unsub. If there was any case that required the two nerdiest members of the BAU to team up, this was it.

Unfortunately, that fact was closely followed by an overwhelming fear — and you wanted to preface this by saying that you were usually a woman of logic and science — but, somehow, you couldn't shake the thought that something bad was going to happen to you and Spencer, and you weren't ready for it.

Leaning against the cool conference room wall, you tapped your toes in an impatient rhythm against the carpeted floor. You were trying to recite what you learned from your PhD; that your mind was jumping to conclusions and that it was normal to be nervous. It was normal to feel this way. You were normal.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked, jolting you out of your mantra.

You realised your boyfriend had been talking to you for awhile now, but clearly, you weren't listening. You shook your head apologetically.

"Sorry, I was just thinking. Could you say that again?"

"I was just saying, you can start by pinning the names and locations of the victims, and I'll put up the crime scene photos... but are you sure you're okay?" He asked again, this time shooting you those puppy dog eyes that made you weak.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Let's get to work." You said firmly, grabbing the box of push pins. You felt his gaze linger on you for a second, before he began picking up his own stack of pictures.

The first hour sped by quickly as you and Spencer listed out all of the unsub’s possible motives and next victims. At the half hour mark, Hotch dropped in to check on your progress, bringing takeaway coffee and leaving with a rare smile.

At the second hour, the rest of the team returned with some new leads, and unfortunately, new bodies, but nothing that helped solidify the profile any further than what you already had.

At the fifth hour, there was no denying it. The team had hit a wall. While the rest of them were back in the field investigating more leads, you sipped on your second cup of coffee while staring at the evidence board. Spencer paced the room behind you.

"The messy dump sites. The carvings onto the victims' chests. One points to the unsub being disorganised and inexperienced, but the other is a clear, almost narcissistic ritual." The doctor thought aloud.

"Usually that means the unsub is trying to make a statement, but he killed his first ten victims before the police found out, then killed another seven and three right under their noses before going dormant. If he wanted to make a statement, why wouldn't he tip off the police or media sooner?" He grumbled.

"Are we sure it's not a taunt to the local police’s competency? Many of his first victims were found in secluded areas with limited police support." You pointed out, tapping the edge of your cup in thought.

"No, the victimology and locations are too wide spread. A taunt would present a clearer message." He said.

You turned around suddenly, causing him to halt in his steps. "Here's something completely off the wall — but what if the unsub was trying to achieve a specific pattern with his kills?" You said, gesturing with your cup.

Tap, tap-tap, tap, you created the rhythm with your finger.

"That would explain why he isn't acting like a narcissist. Maybe he's suffering a mental condition that compels him to complete a certain pattern, and subsequently, ritual with his kills. Could be rhythmical, musical, numerical..." You explained.

"Numerical. That's it!" Spencer squeaked, rushing to the board with a marker. "I thought these numbers seemed familiar earlier, that's because they make up prime numbers!"

He backed away from the board to reveal what he wrote. The numbers 2, 3, 5, 7, and 11. A lightbulb turned on in your head.

"2, 3 and 5 make up the first ten kills. 7 is the next, which he managed to complete perfectly, but something happened to the unsub at 11." Spencer voiced your thoughts.

"He might have been incarcerated, or injured. But we can't rule out the possibility that he might have moved out of town and resumed the pattern elsewhere. So either we can expect 8 more victims here, or the unsub has already moved onto the next number: 13." You quickly finished the train of thought.

"Love, you're a genius!" Spencer rushed over to pick you up by the waist, twirling you as you laughed in relief. But the relief turned to surprise when he kissed you deeply.

God, he was good at this. Even when your feet touched the ground, it felt like you were seeing stars. Though it was only when your lips parted that he had the decency to blush.

"Love?" You breathed.

Spencer's cheeks turned crimson in embarrassment, but he didn't back away. Instead, he leaned forward, bumping your foreheads together gently.

"I didn't know you had that in you, doctor." You teased.

"Well, my mother did school me in classic romance literature from a young age. Not to mention, I happen to be a genius at most things..." You could hear the smile in his voice, and you giggled.

The doctor pulled away then, an adoring smile still plastered across his face. "Are you fee—" He began, but his voice died in his throat as his gaze fixated on something behind you.

"Ooooh, am I interrupting something?" You turned around to see none other than Penelope smiling coyly from the doorway, and the two of you jumped apart.

"N-no, nothing!" Spencer blurted out.

"All fine and dandy here." You added on, blushing furiously.

The tech analyst smiled deviously. "Well, I thought I'd come and check on my two favourite lovebirds. Anything else from the case for me to chew on? Except whatever that was earlier." She teased.

"Actually, there is." You cleared your throat awkwardly, while the good doctor looked like he wanted to melt into the carpet.

"We need you to search up murders in neighbouring cities that match the mutilation by our unsub, then cross-reference the time frame with any new residents. We suspect he might be trying to complete a pattern, and that he may have done it somewhere other than here." You said.

"On it, future-Mrs-Genius. I will get back to you so fast that you won't even have time to get down and dirty." She half-yelled that last bit, heels clicking as she walked back to her office. Before you could even formulate a response, she was gone.

You felt your boyfriend wrap his arms around you from the back. "Now, where were we?" He whispered.

You giggled, leaning back into the doctor's chest while he rocked your bodies side to side. "Are you feeling better now?" He asked.

"Next time someone says it's not as intense in here as it is out there, I'm going to give them a stern talking to." You joked.

"You know what I mean, love." Spencer reiterated gently, the pet name falling from his lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. "If you tell me about it, I can help you. You know I'm always here for you."

You sighed softly, blinking back tears that threatened to spill.

"It's something stupid. I-I'm fine."

He turned you around, brows furrowing in concern when a tear rolled down your cheek. "What's wrong?" He asked, wiping it away tenderly.

"I— I was worried about us working together." You admitted. "And it's not because I don't like working with you, but I just— I just couldn't—"

"Take a deep breath, love. Slowly." He held your shoulders as you breathed in and out, once, twice.

"I've been afraid this whole day — no, for awhile now — that something was going to happen to our relationship." You confessed shakily. "And it's not about our jobs — although I worry about that too — but I'm scared that one day you'll wake up and realise that I'm not worth the trouble."

You looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop the next wave of tears.

"A-and it's only gotten worse because I've never been so h-happy with another person before. Only you've made me feel this way, and I'm t-terrified that I'll lose what we have."

There was a brief silence as Spencer pulled you close to his chest, one hand stroking your hair carefully. You could hear his heart beating fast.

"Do you remember when the team tricked us into sharing a bed?" He whispered, a hint of a smile trickling into his voice. "I think about it every single time we're about to go into the field. Because you said you'd never leave me, and now, whenever we're out there, I know I'm not alone."

He breathed in deeply, your head gently rising and falling together with his chest.

"You've given me someone to come home to, love. What we have, you'll never lose it, okay?" He whispered.

"Baby, I—" Your voice halted. Crap.

"Wait. Baby?" Spencer repeated back to you, a teasing lilt in his voice. Your face flushed, and you unwinded your arms from your boyfriend to cover your face.

"Oh god, can we pretend that didn't just happen?"

"I have an eidetic memory." He pointed out. You let out a watery laugh, knowing when you had lost.

"Alright, alright. But I do have another ide—"

Then, the conference room phone rang. It was Emily. "Hey guys, Garcia managed to narrow down the unsub and we're 10 out, but we'll need some back-up."

"Be there in 15." You replied, while Spencer shot you an amused look, Luckily, he waited for the call to end before saying the next words.

"Let's go, baby." He wiggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, already strapping on your kevlar. "That's it. You're not driving."

"Aww!"

---------

After the major breakthrough in the case — all thanks to Nerd 1 and Nerd 2, as Derek fondly called the two of you — the case managed to wrap up neatly and the BAU found themselves in a rare position. Ready to end the work day, on time.

Not that anybody was packing up to leave just yet, although you wished they would, because Penelope had decided to start enthusiastically retelling how she found the BAU's resident lovebirds in the conference room, unable to keep their hands off each other.

"Last I heard, pet names aren't a crime — and how long were you standing there anyway?" You accused, blushing.

"Firstly, they are. Criminally cute, that is!" Penelope squealed, while the rest were in fits of laughter. "And secondly, you should never underestimate my awesome ninja abilities, because I heard everything that I needed to hear."

"Do I even want to know?" Spencers winced.

"I don't think you do, pretty boy." Derek laughed, clapping the genius on the back.

"Wait, wait, wait. Can we go back to how Spencer's pet name of choice is love?" Emily gasped in laughter.

"You've got to admit it's kind of cute, Emily." JJ smiled.

"Sure. If you're courting Mr. Darcy and attending cotillions."

"C'mon, Prentiss. All that means is that our boy's got style." Derek added to laughter, while Spencer whined in protest.

The door to Hotch's office opened suddenly, both him and Rossi stepping out with expressions of urgency on their faces.

“Sorry to break up the fun, kiddos. But there's been an update to the case.” Rossi announced, following right behind Hotch to the conference room.

The laughs were wiped off everybody's faces as you traded concerned looks. As you filed into the room, Hotch had already begun speaking.

“Another body was found half an hour ago. Same MO, same random victimology, and same kind of dumpsite. And the unsub just told us where to find his copycat.”

“Wait, we never profiled a second unsub.” Derek interjected.

"It doesn't makes sense — the first unsub is a control freak. He didn't like the idea of anybody messing with his sequence. Wouldn't he have done something if he knew somebody else was copying his pattern?" You asked.

"We profiled that he wouldn't be able to deviate from his pattern. What if he had to continue, even when somebody else was committing some of the crimes for him?" Spencer countered.

“Hold on, you said the unsub gave us a location?” Emily asked.

"And a time." Rossi voiced up. “8pm tonight at The Basil. The first unsub claims that's where the copycat finds his next targets."

"How do we know if we can trust him?" Derek asked.

"We don't. But he didn't display any telltale signs of doubt when he told us, and this is the only lead we have." Hotch's frown deepened. You had a feeling he didn't like the idea of this either, but the team didn't have a choice.

"Okay, if we're doing this, he can't know we're onto him," Emily thought aloud, "and we'll need precautions in case it's a trap. That means..."

"Undercover agents... and the bait." Hotch said with finality.

“And who did you have in mind for that?” You piped up, and everyone turned their eyes to you.

“You and Reid.” He stated the obvious.

“B-b-but, I’ve never gone—"

“You’ve more than proven your abilities in the field since you joined us, and having natural chemistry will make it less suspicious to the unsub.”

You opened your mouth, but no words fell from it. Hotch was right. Of course he was right.

As if hearing your thoughts, Spencer took your hand in his and squeezed, and you felt a little calmer already. “Ok, I’ll do it.” You said determinedly, while the doctor echoed your sentiment.

Hotch nodded, beginning to assign roles to the rest of the team while you squeezed your boyfriend's hand tighter, a new mantra forming in your head.

Everything is going to be okay. Everything will be okay.

----------

Tag List:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot @queen-flower @agentcarterisgay @totalmess191 @sapphic-prentiss @oops-all-ajs @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @mellowalieneggsknight @kenny-0909 || @averyhotchner @amesandpineapples @willowrose99

[starlight-loki]

The Thin Line Between Life and Death (Loki x Mystic!Reader) -- PART 1

Or, That Time You and Loki Saved the World

Request: is it alright if you do a loki x reader fic where reader's got powers like strange and wields one of the infinity stones and almost dies trying to save everyone? -- requested by anon

Warnings: this is darker than other fics i've written so far: descriptions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, and major character deaths (but not Loki, I promise).

Word Count: 4.8k (hooo weeee man, if I didn't split this into 2 parts it would've been like... over 10k omg)

A/N: For context, please read this headcanon first if you'd like to know a bit more about the reader and Loki's relationship as well as to sort of set the scene for this fic -- otherwise, if you're cool with jumping right in, enjoy! This was so much fun to write :)

Also this doesn't follow the events of Infinity War/Endgame at all; this is sort of... my take on it, I guess you could say?

Everything started going downhill when you began getting visions.

They weren't anything concerning at first, in fact they were almost cryptic, really: manifesting themselves in your dreams in subtle -- almost metaphoric -- ways. First it was simply the colour orange, which then progressed to flashes of amber light at random occasions during the events of your dreams, then it became fire. For a while, fire consumed your dreams nearly every night, burning through cities, forests, and even planets.

The Ancient One had told you from the start that dreams carried messages from your subconscious. They weren't something to be dismissed, even the most simplest elements. They were to be respected, listened to, and were meant to encourage you to shift mentally and emotionally in indescribable ways.

You figured the fire was symbolic for the stress and worry you were feeling, with everything moving so quickly over the last few days.

After all, the threat of Thanos was looming more and more. No longer was he a whispered rumour that was occasionally passed around at dinnertime with the rest of the Avengers. He was an actual threat now, and the Avengers were holding meetings twice a day to try and develop a plan of attack.

He had the power stone. It was only a matter of time before he found the others.

Twenty-four hours before everything changed, a vision came to you differently than all the others.

You were in the kitchen preparing lunch for yourself when your ears began ringing. Whispers filled your mind from the inside and spoke to you in a language you didn't understand, yet chilled you to the bone at the same time. There was a blinding flash of light that nearly paralyzed you, and as you strained to focus your eyes, you noticed a small orange stone materialize in front of you.

The soul stone.

It glided closer and closer to you, and as it did so the whispers grew louder. The lives of thousands flashed before your eyes. Their deaths did, as well. It was showing you the cycle of humanity -- birth, life, death, repeat -- almost taunting you that this seemingly inevitable thing could be controlled.

You gasped, dropped the plate in your hands accidentally. It fell to the floor with an earsplitting crash, and as quickly as the soul stone arrived, it disappeared in a swirl of orange smoke.

Your hands were shaking as you knelt down to collect the bigger pieces of the now-shattered plate. A hand on your back made you flinch in surprise and you instinctively curled closer towards the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to protect yourself.

"It's just me." Loki's soft voice seemed foggy and distant as your brain continued to adjust from the voices and the ringing you had just heard. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and sunk to the floor, half in defeat and half in relief that you weren't alone anymore. These visions were growing far too intense for you to handle.

You looked up at Loki, who exchanged an anxious expression with you. His green eyes searched your face, seemingly looking for an explanation of what had just happened to you.

"I saw something," you whispered, absentmindedly gripping the plate shard in your hand tighter. "Loki, I think I saw the soul stone."

His eyes widened as he knelt down beside you and gently pried the glass out of your grip, setting it down out of your reach. He replaced the broken piece in your hand with his own, and you sighed shakily as his thumb gently stroked the top of your hand.

"Did it show you anything?" He asked quietly, and you nodded quickly in response.

"I saw life, death... everything." You felt far removed from you own voice, almost like it didn't belong to you. "It's been happening in dreams too, but I've never seen the stone itself before."

You gazed at Loki, who almost seemed to disappear into his own thoughts at your mention of the visions you saw. You knew all too well about the Tesseract, and the way it had tormented Loki once before. The infinity stones were not gentle to humans, or gods for that matter.

"Do you think this has something to do with Thanos?" You asked, your voice trembling as you whispered. "Do you think maybe he managed to get the soul stone?"

Loki shook his head slowly, but it wasn't without hesitation.

"The soul stone is far away on Vormir. It's guarded heavily. I doubt-"

"Hey, you two okay?"

You glanced up quickly just as Tony stepped into the room. His eyes swept over the mess of a broken plate on the floor before landing on you and Loki, huddled together in the corner of the kitchen as if your lives depended on it.

Tony looked as exhausted as you felt. No one had really slept well in the last few days, but you couldn't imagine what it was like for Tony: he had been staying up until ungodly hours of the morning with Steve, Vision, and Rhodey, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

"Yeah," you shook your head as you tried to clear the last of the visions out of your mind. "Sorry, that was an accident. I'm just... really tired."

Tony gave a perfectly-timed yawn as he knelt down and began to pick up the broken pieces of the plate you dropped.

"I feel ya, kid."

You watched as him and Loki exchanged resigned nods of acknowledgement, and you grabbed Loki's hand before he could step forward to help Tony clean up the mess.

Should I tell him? You asked telepathically. About the soul stone?

Loki gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Not yet. His voice echoed through your mind like the whispers from the soul stone moments ago, bringing you warmth rather than fear. Until we fully understand why these visions are occurring, I believe it would be best to not burden Stark with any more details. It would only cause more problems.

You nodded in agreement as you pushed yourself up onto your feet shakily. You stepped forward to help Tony clean up the mess, only feel your head spin violently. You lurched forward, grabbing onto the counter as you tried to stop yourself from falling.

"Hey, whoa!" Tony sprang up and grabbed your shoulders just as you felt Loki's arms wrap around your waist in an effort to keep you standing. "Easy there, kid. Jesus, are you okay?"

"I feel sick." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. Even with two people supporting your weight, you still felt as though you were going to fall over.

"Go sleep, okay?" Tony told you sternly. You made a sound of protest and tried to help him continue cleaning up. Tony shook his head in response.

"Don't worry about this, we'll clean it up." His gaze shifted over to Loki, who still held you tightly. You could feel his hands trembling ever-so-slightly, and you placed your own hand over his weakly as you attempted to silently reassure him that you'd be okay.

"Loki, make sure Y/N gets some rest."

"I will."

Loki scooped you up into his arms in one fluid motion, causing you to wince as spots danced in your vision. You buried your head against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold yourself together.

Has this ever happened to you? You manage to ask Loki telepathically as he set you carefully down on your bed. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before crawling into bed beside you.

Not to this degree, he replied. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips as he gently pulled you close, cradling the back of your head. The infinity stones all have variable levels of energy, but I have never dealt with the soul stone before.

Do you mean their frequencies vary depending on their roles?

Precisely.

You sighed defeatedly, troubled by the fact that -- out of all the infinity stones -- the one that boasted power over life and death itself just had to come find you.

You knew mystics seemed to have some sort of connection to the stones, seeing as Stephen knew the time stone and guarded it with his life. You had hoped, though, that if another stone were to find its way somehow to another mystic, it would be Wong, not you.

Loki nudged your chin up ever so slightly with his fingertips, encouraging you to look up at him. He gave you a warm, gentle smile as he caressed your cheek slowly.

"Rest now," he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead softly. "I will stay with you, I promise."

You nodded halfheartedly in response. Every cell in your being longed for nothing more but rest, yet at the same time you were afraid to close your eyes in case the soul stone was still lurking somewhere in your mind. Waiting for you.

It felt as though you had only just closed your eyes, when the sound of thunder jolted you out of your sleep. You felt weightless as you opened your eyes slowly, taking in the purple hues of clouds above you. As you felt yourself float higher, you realized with a sickening sinking feeling that your body was still in your bed, far away from where you currently were.

Your spirit had separated from your physical body, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to be able to get back.

You glanced upward as you continued your ascent just as two towering structures came into view at the top of a cliff. The whispers that had filled your mind earlier that day resumed, and you cried out in fear, clutching your head in your hands. It only made them grow stronger.

As flashes of orange began filling your vision, your blood ran cold as you realized where you were.

Somehow, your spirit had found its way to Vormir.

Reaching the top of the cliff, you stepped carefully onto the platform just as a hooded figure glided towards you.

Never before has this stone ever summoned a soul into its presence. A chill ran up your spine as the guardian's voice echoed in your mind, crackling like ice.

Many have sought this stone, but it belongs to no one.

"So why did it bring me here?" You demanded, curling your arms around your middle in an attempt control your nerves. You were vulnerable here. You were powerless without your physical body -- incantations and even the mirror realm would be of no use to you in this state.

The soul stone seems to have taken a certain interest in you. It sees potential... for what is yet to come.

"I don't understand." Your own voice seemed to wrap around you in an endless echo. You instinctively took a step back as your head spun from sensory overload.

You walk the line between the living and the dead, mystic.

"But I'm not the only mystic. There's more out there like me, surely they experienced the same thing? I mean, there's Stephen-"

No. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figure raised its head to gaze at you, and your eyes met fiery blood red irises. You turned your gaze to the ground in an attempt to divert your fear and calm your racing heart.

Stephen Strange is already in possession of the time stone, the guardian explained slowly. There are no other mystics who possess the strength -- or courage -- to cross over into the land of the dead.

"But I'm not dead." You protested, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that drew your attention back to the fact that you were currently a spirit on another planet, far away from your body. "I... I've been training in the mystic arts for a few years now. Never in my life has anything like this happened. Why now am I suddenly getting visions?"

There is another who seeks the soul stone as we speak, the guardian replied. To your relief, it kept its distance from you. He yearns to own it.

"Thanos," you whispered, feeling a cold chill run up your spine as you spoke his name.

Yes, mystic, the guardian nodded solemnly. However, there are elements of the soul stone that the Titan has not tried to understand. Just like how life and death are two sides of the same coin, so too does the soul stone have another aspect.

You gasped as the soul stone materialized in front of you, hovering level with your line of sight just like when you were in the kitchen back at the Compound. You watched as it began to spin, gradually growing faster and faster, until it split neatly into two halves.

The soul stone embodies both the physical and the spiritual, and thus each aspect is acquired through complete mastery of its respective lesson.

The guardian's words echoed in your mind as you gazed at the fragments of the soul stone curiously. The fear you had felt in connection with your earlier visions was gone now. In its place, all you felt was awe.

As one of the pieces of the soul stone began gliding closer to you, you reached out your hand in an attempt to touch it. It looked so warm, so inviting. You longed to know what it would feel like to hold a piece of ancient power in your hands.

No.

You flinched, glancing at the guarding whose voice boomed in your head. As if to reinforce his words, the shards of the soul stone vanished into thin air.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" You asked quietly. "You said there's a connection between myself and the soul stone, I don't understand."

You must earn it. It does not come willingly to anyone.

"Then I don't want it." You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't know why any of this is happening, but I want it to stop. I want to go home."

Very well.

The guardian raised his hand, and you felt yourself being pulled backwards slowly, back the way you came.

I offer you a piece of advice, mystic, the voice in your mind echoed out louder than ever. In order to gain the physical shard of the stone, you must lose the one you love. To gain the spirit shard, you must know the path that leads you back to them.

There was a sharp tug around your middle, and you felt your heart freeze in your chest as you began plummeting down the cliff. You squeezed your eyes shut as the wind echoed like a jet plane in your ears.

Remember this, the guardian's voice was distant now. You had to strain to register the words in your mind. The spirit shard cannot be found on Vormir. The fate of the physical shard is being decided as we speak. Use this knowledge wisely, mystic.

An image flashed in your mind of a titan ascending the mountain, towards the top of the cliff upon which your spirit had just stood. You caught a glint of purple, blue, and red flash from his hand.

You gasped, bolting upright as the heavy sensation that accompanied falling back into your body ran through you. You were trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and you yelped as two hands planted themselves firmly on your shoulders.

"Relax!" Your heart sped up in your chest as you tried to fight off whoever was holding onto you. "Y/N, relax, it's me!"

Loki came into focus in front of you, his eyes never straying from yours as you tried to catch your breath. His hands were steady, but you caught a flash of fear in his eyes as he gazed at you.

"What happened?" He whispered, pulling you into a protective and firm embrace. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind wandered back to the visions that flashed behind your eyes moments before you woke up.

"Thanos." Your voice felt far away, almost foreign to you, as you replied softly. Your trembling hands reached up to pull Loki even closer to you. You were afraid you'd lose control and end up separated from your body again. You didn't want to be alone once more.

"What?"

"Thanos." You repeated again, glancing out the window into the now-darkened sky to make sure you were no longer on Vormir. You couldn't trust yourself. "Loki, I saw him. He's got more stones. He found the Tesseract."

Loki pushed you away, only to wrap his hands firmly around your arms. The fear he had hidden so well moments ago was dancing like fire in his eyes.

"That's impossible," he said slowly, and you weren't sure if those words were for you, or if they were an attempt to convince himself. "You hid the Tesseract yourself, you took it from me and-"

"I know what I did." You snapped. You winced as Loki recoiled away from you ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just... Look, you have to believe me Loki. Please. I was on Vormir, or at least my spirit was. The guardian of the soul stone was there, it spoke to me, I-"

"I believe you." Loki's soft whisper stopped the rambling thoughts that were pouring out of your mouth, and you nearly cried in relief at his words. His expression softened as he took in your torn, distressed expression, and he kissed your forehead softly.

"I believe you." He repeated again, pulling you close.

"We don't have much time." Your voice felt tight in your throat as you spoke. "Right before I woke up, I saw Thanos approaching Vormir. The rest of the stones are on Earth, Loki. I think he's coming here next."

"We need to tell the others."

"Will they know what to do?"

Loki's gaze burned into yours determinedly as he took your hand and helped you up off your bed.

"All we can do is hope."

The two of you raced down the hall, pounding on every door you passed as you tried to wake everyone up at once. Tired groans of protest echoed from within a few rooms, only encouraging you to knock even louder on the Avengers' doors.

"Everyone up!" You exclaimed. You couldn't ignore the way your voice and hands trembled as you made your way down the hall. "Emergency meeting, now!"

The Compound slowly came to life once more as you and Loki reached the end of the hall, and the two of you were met with numerous confused and somewhat alarmed looks.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, effortlessly keeping up with your strides as you made your way to the meeting room.

"Y/N had a vision." Loki explained, taking your hand and giving it a small squeeze in an attempt to comfort you. "Thanos is coming."

"What!?" Bruce's shocked exclamation echoed out from behind you as he jogged to keep up. "We were monitoring his whereabouts, just a few hours ago he was still light years away from Earth looking for the other five infinity stones-"

"Yeah, well, he's managed to get two more," You answered as you sat yourself down in a chair in the meeting room. Loki sat close beside you, resting his knee against yours in a silent gesture, as if to communicate he was right by your side through all of this.

"He's on Vormir as we speak," you continued as everyone took their seats around the table. "He's looking for the soul stone. That's infinity stone number four. He'll be coming for us next."

"How do you know that?" Natasha's question sounded out from the other side of the room.

"There's six stones in total, right?"

Your question earned slow nods from the Avengers sitting around you.

"I saw his glove. He's got the power stone -- as we know -- as well as the reality stone, and now the space stone too."

"The Tesseract was destroyed along with Asgard." Thor remarked, frowning as he took in your words. You looked over at Loki quickly, the two of you exchanging anxious glances, before you looked back at Thor and shook your head.

"The Tesseract was... misplaced." You answered slowly.

Everyone flinched as Thor banged his fist against the table, his gaze immediately shifting away from you as realization burned in his eyes.

"Loki!"

"I assure you brother-"

"I knew it was a bad idea bringing Rock of Ages here onto the team." Tony interrupted pointing an accusatory finger at Loki. Several other Avengers nodded in agreement.

"It wasn't his fault!" You exclaimed loudly. The room felt silent as everyone frowned at you in confusion. "It was mine. I should've destroyed it but I didn't. I just opened a portal and... threw it in."

"Do you know where it went?" Steve asked you.

"At the time, I didn't. I had no idea Thanos was out there looking for the stones at the same time. I just wanted that thing far away from us. It's caused enough trouble, and we didn't need any more."

Loki squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile as he heard your reply.

"There are two stones left," you continued, glancing around the room worriedly as you thought about the threat of Thanos looming over your team like a dark shadow. "Stephen is guarding the time stone downtown. Assuming he's kept his guard up as usual, he'll be one step ahead of Thanos and he'll already be taking precautions to keep it out of his reach."

You paused, glancing nervously over at Vision. His eyes met yours in understanding, and he gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement.

"The other stone," you continued quietly. "Is right here in this room with us."

A strange humming sound caused a hushed silence to fall over the Compound. You frowned, straining your ears as you tried to listen.

"Does anyone else hear that-"

Tony's question was cut off by an explosion that took out the entire side wall of the Compound. The force of the blast knocked you to the ground, and your ears rang violently as you tried to orient yourself once more with your surroundings.

"This is too easy. Everyone in one room together, how... pathetic."

You glanced up to see Thanos looming over everyone, an already victorious grin on his face as he examined the aftermath of the blast he had caused.

"I would've thought you'd make it more difficult for me."

The stones on Thanos' gauntlet began to glow, and you felt an arm yank you backwards and into their grasp before a ray of purple light blasted throughout the room. You glanced behind you to find Loki, his jaw clenched as he stared in fear towards Thanos, before casting a protective spell over the two of you.

You tried to pull away, to gather up the other members of the team and bring them to safety, but Loki's grip was firm and unrelenting.

"They need help!" You exclaimed in protest. "Everyone's vulnerable, all our defense and weapons are two floors down-"

"You go over there, and you'll get killed." Loki muttered through gritted teeth. "I can't lose you. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay here!"

Loki trembled as he tried to keep his shield up. Pressing yourself closer to him, you cast the strongest protective spell you knew and placed it overtop of his. Green and gold magic intertwined together, forming a tightly-knit dome over the two of you.

"I think I can get Bruce," you whispered, nodding towards the corner of the room. "He's not very far-"

Your idea was suddenly interrupted as Thanos raised his gauntlet, and the soul stone began to glow.

You watched in horror as every member of your team outside of your protective dome was wrapped in an orange aura, and lifted off the ground.

"No!" You yelled, stumbling forward and pushing your protective spell further outwards in an attempt to save those closest to you. A spark of energy backfired, burning your hands and causing you to stumbled back with a cry of pain.

"I can't get to them," you gasped, glancing at Loki in horror. "I can't get past the soul stone."

Thanos heard your words, and he shifted his gaze in your direction with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" You demanded, watching as Steve and Tony, among others, struggled to be released from the titan's invisible grasp.

"Those who play hero only bring more war," Thanos stated, glancing behind your shoulder at Loki and smiling coldly. "I'm putting an end to this child's play, once and for all."

"Let them go!" You yelled, reaching forward in a weak attempt to save your teammates. Your gesture only earned a piteous laugh from the titan.

"You're choosing to play a bold game, mystic." Thanos continued. "By keeping that shield of yours up, you're creating more pain. All you are doing is delaying your death."

"It'll give us more time to plot yours." Loki retorted from behind you with gritted teeth.

"Bold as ever, Asgardian." Thanos smirked. "But not strong enough. Neither of you are."

You glanced desperately over at Tony for any sort of help, but all you exchanged were helpless glances.

"There will be no more heroes," Thanos boomed, raising his gauntlet triumphantly. The soul stone began to glow once more. "No more martyrs. No more humans. Only gods."

"I believe in you, kid." Tony gasped out. "You can do this."

"I can't." You cried out, your heart racing as you glanced between your teammates and Thanos. "I don't know how."

You managed to catch a determined nod from Tony, before a loud snap reverberated through the room, knocking you and Loki backwards.

There was a gust of cold air as Thanos opened a portal with the space stone, smirking victoriously down at the two of you.

"We'll meet again, mystic."

Thanos pulled a now-unconscious Vision towards him with his gauntlet and disappeared, the portal closing as soon as it opened. You lowered your shield to run for your teammates, who were still hovering unconscious in mid-air, only to be stopped by Loki.

"Look."

You watched in horror as, one by one, each member of the Avengers dissolved into ash and vanished before your eyes. Crying out in disbelief, you lowered your protection spell and raced forward before Loki could protest.

"Tony!"

You tried to reach for his hand, to pull him out of the orange aura that held him captive. As soon as your fingers brushed his, he turned to ash immediately.

You sunk to your knees, the sudden silence that fell over the Compound feeling like a graveyard. You heard Loki run towards Thor, calling his name over and over again, before he too fell silent.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and a cold chill shook your insides as his eyes mirrored the same terror you felt inside yourself.

Unable to find the strength to stand, you crawled over to where he sat and buried your face in his shoulder. As soon as Loki's arms wrapped around you, you were unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body. You felt him trembling and realized that he, too, was crying.

"They're all gone." You whispered, your voice distorted through your tears. "Everyone's gone."

Loki didn't reply. Instead, he pulled you closer and ran his hands in small circles upon your back, almost as if he were memorizing the feel of you in his arms.

The sound of your cries echoed out through the Compound and reverberated back towards the two of you, piercing your skin like little knives. You squeezed shut your eyes, hoping that this was all a bad dream and -- when you opened your eyes again -- the Avengers would be right back in this room with you and Loki, ready to formulate a plan of attack.

When you opened your eyes, however, nothing changed.

There was only one infinity stone left.

Everyone was gone, leaving only you and Loki.

Thanos had won.

END OF PART ONE.

Taglist: @startrekkingaroundasgard @delightfulheartdream @justasmisunderstoodasloki @marvels-mischief @k8obr @pastyoverlord265 @lowkeytesss @levylovegood

Taglist for this fic only: @littleredstarfish @treblebeth @taylordani03

[wastelandcth]

Coney Island - cth

summary: Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

author’s notes: this was...wow. i hope you all enjoy shoutout to @in-superbloom and @hoodhoran for letting me give them sneak peeks to hype myself up over it! 

warnings: mentions of a car accident, mentions of a hospital, angst, sorry there’s a cliffhanger. 

masterlist || request || more songs for calum

You’d always been told that finding your passion at a young age was a blessing. That finding the one thing you wanted to do for the rest of your life and running with it was a blessing in disguise. You’d never understood why everyone would say that to you, you loved making art and there had never been a downside to creating art. There had never been a point in your life where your job had become a stressor and where you’d regretted ever wanting to chase the thrill of canvas and paint. Every day you’d wake up and have the time and space to create scenery you’d seen in dreams or in real life, little pockets in time you could freeze on canvas for the world to see. It’d been a rough start, selling your work for whatever amount you were offered until you had your break and found yourself in a museum overseas staring at the large painting hanging on the wall of some museum you’d dreamed about. You’d been standing there in the empty halls, breathing in the quiet of the hall, the occasional footsteps bringing you back into the moments before a shadow next to you brought your attention away from your splatter of colors and lines to the person who stood next to you. And that’s how you first met Calum, in the silence of an art museum where his eyes studied your work as if he’d been trying to find all the secrets you’d hidden in the paint. It was where you’d told him about the painting, where you’d both found one another in more ways than one. 

That’s when you finally understood the blessing in disguise. 

Coney Island had always been a warm and distant memory to you, the boardwalk lined with thrills on either side, waiting to be explored. You remembered cotton candy dreams and spending days in the sun with your friends. Coney Island has been love and laughter, sunshine and summer days, and a place where the pit in your stomach was gone. It had been all you could think about when summer was mentioned, an inspiration to the painting you’d whispered to Calum about. The colorful swirls of paint and oils that gave you your first real break in the art world had all come from the place where boardwalks and rides had brought you nothing but happiness. 

But now, the boardwalk was silent and you felt like a ghost walking through it. 

The ocean was inviting, a teasing view from wherever you stood, tempting you to step into the sand and sink into its secrets. The boardwalk echoed with every step you took, bouncing the noise up into the sky where it returned as a sharp crack of thunder. The empty bench you’d found was hard and cold, leaving your bones aching with a chill you weren’t sure would ever go away. The wind thumping against your ears as you took in the cold ocean air into your lungs, letting the salty breeze burn them and leave you gasping for air. Your eyes searched the water, a muted gray and blue that seemed to stretch on for as far as your eyes could see, swirling with white foam from the waves that crashed onto the sand every so often. 

The lights from the amusement park flickered against the shore, strobing in and out of view which left you shaking and with teary eyes. The waves filled your head with the screeching of tires and breaking glass. The swirling of the ocean putting the same fear in the pit of your stomach as when you’d heard Calum’s scream. The scream that had been cut off as the call went dead. 

“I know I promised I’d be able to make it to dinner…” you mumbled hesitantly, frowning as you heard Calum’s sigh, “But I-”

“Let me guess, you have a very important gallery show and it just happened to slip your mind again so you’ll have to skip dinner with the band?” Calum mumbled, the annoyance in his voice obvious, “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. It’s fine, you’ll still make it to the show, right?”

“Well…” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair as the busy streets of Brooklyn surrounded you, “I’m really sorry, Cal.”

“Are you serious?” he scoffed, “We’ve had this planned for weeks now! You can’t just-”

“Calum? Calum?! Honey?”

The hospital had become a maze, turns, and twists that only led your farther and farther from your destination. With every squeak of your shoes against the vinyl floor, you felt yourself drifting farther away from him, from the man who’d you’d been putting second to your job and the one you didn’t know you’d be able to see again. Your adrenaline had been on high since the moment the emergency worker had answered the tenth call you’d made to Calum’s phone, telling you the what, when, and where had happened to Calum. You’d raced through the busy sidewalks, trying to find the hospital where Calum’s unconscious self was being sent to. But even as you walked through the barren halls, hands shaking and dried tears on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for it all. What if he never woke up and the last words you’d shared between one another was a fight? What if he never knew that you loved him more than anything in the world? What if all the nights away from him could’ve been switched for time spent together? 

“Darling?” one of the nurses said softly, breaking you out of the hurricane of thoughts, “Hey, take deep breaths, how can I help you? Are you hurt?”

“Where’s….they said he’d be here but I don’t..” 

“Who are you looking for, honey?”

“Where did my baby go?”

You’d been ready to answer, to tell them that you needed to see Calum and hold his hand. To make sure he was okay and that he’d be able to make it to his show that night, to be happy on stage. But that was all thrown out the door when the doors opened, bringing a gust of cold and rainy wind into the room as well as the man you’d talked to on the phone only minutes before. Your breath caught in your throat, your body going stiff as you watched them wheel him into the building and then away from you. He was bloody and bruised, his eyes shut in a way that seemed too peaceful for the situation he was in. His hair was flat against his head, the usual curls that had roamed freely on his head now matted with blood, and you couldn’t help but rush out of the building. The walls had started to close in, trapping you in as you watched Calum disappear behind a crowd of nurses and doctors, and you finally took a breath of air as the door shut behind you and the hospital was behind you.

The waves were louder now, crashing against the shore with a force so strong they shook the boardwalk beneath your feet. You hadn’t realized how far you’d walked, not until the familiar lights of the boardwalk shone beneath the fog that had come with the rain, how far you’d walked away from him again. It wasn’t like he’d want you there anyways, the annoyance in his voice had been a clue if you’d ever seen one. You had just pushed him aside again in order to go to another gallery you knew deep down you could afford to miss. It had been like that for weeks now, you both danced around the fact that you hadn’t been in the same city for months on end. Daily phone calls or text messages were replaced with a silence neither of you enjoyed and airplane trips became lonely. You’d been off traveling the globe as your newest works were displayed all across and Calum had been off promoting the band’s latest album. It hadn’t been the first time both of your jobs had overlapped schedules and being away from one another for this long had happened, but the silence was new. 

Which is why the fact that you were both finally in the same city was so important for Calum, and for you. But the idea of finally seeing him had caused the pit of anxiety to form and you found yourself looking for excuses to push him away. And now your last memories of him would be seeing his bruised body being wheeled away from you, the way his voice had cut off with a squeal of tires, and the sound of glass breaking. All because you’d put a distance between the both of you because you felt that intense feeling that you could no longer ignore. It had first started that night when his back became a canvas for your art, and his soft gasps whenever the cold paint hit his skin had ingrained themselves in your brain. The gasps and giggles mixed in with the smell of paint and you felt yourself falling more and more in love with Calum, seeing yourself old and gray with him. It had been terrifying and the shapes you’d made with paint had become nothing but a blur of colors. 

“I love you,” he mumbled against his arm, watching as you’d started packing up the paints and brushes you’d just used on his skin, “You know that?”

“Mhm, and lucky for you,” you teased, pushing down the pit of fear into the back of your mind, “I am deeply in love with you.” 

That’s what loving Calum had always been, a blur of beautiful colors. 

The air had begun to pick up now, swirling and swinging around the sky as the storm grew closer and closer. Not that it mattered much, your face was already soaked with tears and stained by the black mascara that had been running down ever since you’d walked out of the hospital. You wished he’d be by your side, hugging you and telling you it would all be okay. If you closed your eyes and focused hard enough you could hear his voice, modulated over the speaker of your phone as he told you about his day. He’d been trying to distract you again, the frustration of your newest piece not looking how you’d imagined bringing you close to tears. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah? And then you can paint all over my body so you can find inspiration. I promise.” he chuckled quietly, probably laying in a dark room across an ocean. 

“I miss you,” you sighed, watching the sunrise out your window and rubbing at your tired eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispered, a smile in his voice, as if those were the only three words you needed to hear. Maybe they were, maybe those were the three little words you would remember before the crash pulled him away from you. 

Time seemed to tick by slowly, almost torturing you, as your eyes drifted from the ocean storm ahead to the screen of your phone. You knew it was coming, the call that would change your life forever. The one that would leave you broken and shattered on the beach like the shells that had crunched under your feet. Soon enough, the buzz of your phone would bring the time with Calum to an end. Soon, it would just be you, the ocean breeze, and the memory of Calum. The crack of thunder shook the world around you, almost making you miss the sharp shrill that came from your phone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Calum you’d taken a few months back. Your lungs froze, hands shaking as your thumb slid over the screen and accepted the call, bracing yourself for the inevitable. 

“H-hello?” you asked, mentally preparing for the tears that would fill the ocean with salty tears. 

“I think I-I forgot to say your name and they wouldn’t let me in no matter how many times I asked,” you stuttered out, your feet carrying you back towards the sidewalk, towards Calum, “I love you so much I’m so sorry I’ve been so far away.” 

That’s what you would’ve said to Calum, if you’d only had more time and if you had said no to more events. You would’ve spilled your heart out to him, telling him all the secret words you had only whispered in the darkness of the room when you were sure Calum was asleep and his soft snores confirmed he’d never hear them. And even then, as the static of the ocean makes it hard for you to hear the call connect, the waves crashing onto the shore as the wind picks up doesn’t matter. Nothing matters then because the sharp inhale of air brings them to a dangerous silence, a silence that hurts your ears as the ocean, the waves, thunder, and air all come to an end with a soft whisper. 

“Baby?” Calum’s voice spoke out, the softness of it laced with a pain you wished you could take away. But it was Calum’s voice and that itself felt like a lightning bolt to the chest, a breath of fresh air, and a cold wave to wake them up. 

And that cold bench on Coney Island feels like the warmth of his voice. 

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[fanfic-cave]

The Reveal Pt. 2

Rating: SFW/PG-13

Word Count: 1.6k (nearly 1.7k)

Pairing: Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Swearing (im too lazy to write the star wars swear words so its our kind of swears), trauma/fear situation, lightsaber/jedi things, mushy hug/romance, its supposed to be kinda intense and dramatic

Summary: You’ve exposed yourself as a Jedi to the Bad Batch, and not intentionally. Now its out in the open, and this ex-jedi needs to escape before things get messy. Will these rogue clones attack? Will you have to defend yourself? How will this end without someones blood getting spilled?

Authors note: Check out part 1 linked below, theres links to a few other fics i'd reccomend reading as well along this these! Theres like a tiniest bit of fluff here. I have a few other fluff/short things I want to post soon, and I have some ideas for giving the other TBB memebers some love since all I've been posting is Hunter stuff lately

Please enjoy!

Part 1 here

“Isn’t it obvious? Sera is a Jedi.”

RIP

Tech's words flipped the switch and you took action. You used the force and ripped your lightsaber out of your bag, ignited it, and took a defensive stance.

“Stay back boys” You wish your voice wasn’t shaking. The green glow of your lightsaber reflected on their surprised faces.

“Omega, stay inside.” You heard Hunter's voice, and saw him push her in, her eyes wide when seeing your weapon ignited. Wrecker took a step back, a look of shock on his face. Tech raised his hands. Crosshair eyed you suspiciously, he stood just behind Tech. You couldn’t see Echo.

“Hmm. Looks like I was right.” Tech said nonchalantly, like he had just proved a scientific theory. Well, I guess he did, in a manner of speaking.

You held your lightsaber with two hands, squeezing tight and ready to use it at a moment's notice. You started taking a step back. “Nobody moves. I walk away, and nobody gets hurt-” you sensed something in the force, and heard a minuscule movement, a blaster. You pointed your saber to Echo, who had just appeared at the top exit ramp “Drop it!”

“Easy Sera,” Echo spoke. “We’re all removing our weapons.” He looked at the rest of the boys and nodded. “See?” You watched Echo lift his blaster pistol, careful not to touch the trigger, and throw it. Crosshair dropped his rifle. Wrecker raised his hands up. “You’re a Jedi?” Wreckers face looked shocked and confused.

You tried to ignore the emotions you were feeling. You didn’t want to leave, you had happy times with them. But you were too afraid to take the risk of staying and finding out if you would survive. “I don’t want to hurt any of you” You took another step back. “Just let me go and I won’t…”

“We won’t hurt you Sera.” It was Hunter's voice this time. He stepped forward out of the Havoc, and walked past the boys. His knife and blaster were gone, left on the ship maybe. He held his hands out in front of him, slightly raised. He had a slight crouch as he came towards you, like he was approaching a wounded animal. His expression was hard to read still, but he had a slight frown on his face. You looked into his eyes and couldn’t look away. He held your gaze intensely, like he was trying to send a message to you through his eyes.

“Please,” you said, desperation in your voice. You tried to move your feet. You couldn’t, you were frozen by his look, held by him. You felt the same electric current drawing you to him, keeping you from leaving.

“We don’t have inhibitor chips, not that they worked too well anyways.” He lifted his headband and shifted his hair, pointing to a small scar. The rest of the boys did so similarly, showing they all had an identical scar on the right side of their skull.

You looked at them confused. Inhibitor chips? All you knew was that the clones executed the Jedi. Every Jedi. You didn’t know how, or even why, other than the Empire saying the Jedi committed treason.

Hunter had been taking small steps forward the whole time. Your eyes stayed locked onto his. Then, you felt something you hadn't in a long time, something you shut out.

You recognized the feeling of the force, it moved through you, awakening your force sensitivity. Maybe you reignited a severed connection by touching your saber again, maybe the strong emotions in you and everyone else caused the resurgence. Whatever the reason, you felt it move through you, connecting you to your surroundings.

After the battles on Umbara, with a lot of effort, you closed yourself off from the force. You realized now that it was never truly gone, and you had still been seeing your surroundings with your instinctual force sensitivity.

You hesitated and broke eye contact from Hunter, shocked at what was happening. You took a breath, and closed your eyes. You concentrated on the force, focusing on the feelings you felt now. Fear, love, sadness, anxiety, all of it. You quieted them, and then reached out. You felt a surge of more emotions. Worry. Fear again. But not a selfish fear. They were scared you would leave. You could sense the intentions of each of them, seeing a bit into their mind. You sensed no malice, no intention to take life.

You sensed Hunter step closer. He was maybe a foot away now. He reached out and touched your forearm. You took another deep breath, then opened your eyes, watching him. He reached his hand up to your face slowly, reaching for your mask. You made no movement to stop him, and he slipped it off of you, tossing it aside. Beneath it revealed your face, and he calmly looked into your eyes.

You realized he was trying to reassure you, comfort you. He wasn’t scared of you, despite the legendary weapon you held. You felt more hopeful, now that you saw nobody had tried to attack you. You turned off your lightsaber, never breaking away from his gaze, and dropped the saber to the ground. Everyone relaxed.

“What are inhibitor chips?” You asked. Tech launched into an explanation. The Kaminoans created the clones with chips in their brain, to inhibit the clones' cognitive functions and allow them to follow any order. Theirs were not functioning, save for Crosshair. Crosshairs face darkened as he mentioned this, he looked like he would rather avoid the memories all together. They retrieved him from the empire and removed all their chips.

The clones were forced to kill the Jedi. Thinking about it left a bitter taste in your mouth. The clones would’ve stood by the Jedi, their commanders, generals, and friends. The Jedi only wanted to protect the Republic. They were forced to murder them. They were all tricked.

But, the bad batch… your friends. You sighed. You’re safe. You don’t have to leave. “So none of you feel an overwhelming urge to execute me for holding a lightsaber? Or making a 40ft jump?”

“More like 45 feet, and no. We never were known for being rule followers.” Hunter said. He smiled a bit when he said it, and watched you process his words. You blinked back tears, and a smile spread on your face. You couldn’t believe that you were all going to be okay. A horror you felt sure of was now averted.

You felt the electrical current run through your body again as Hunters hand retreated from your arm. You looked up at him, tears threatening to roll out of your eyes. The current dragged you in. You walked towards Hunter, the heat of the moment sweeping you up. You slammed into him and wrapped your arms around his torso. You squeezed tight, and shut your eyes, tears rolling down. “You’re not going to kill me.” You spoke half laughing, half crying.

You felt his arms wrap around your shoulders, and return the hug, squeezing you back. He was warm. Compared to moments ago feeling terrified of death, the feeling of being hugged and cared for was euphoric.

Hunter pressed his face into your hair, and you felt lips press to top of your head for a brief moment. He bent down a bit and whispered in your ear “Never. You’ve protected us, and we are going to protect you.” A few more tears rolled down as he spoke, and you pressed your face against his chest. He made circles with his thumb on your back, seemingly to comfort you. The world around you just disappeared. It was just you and him. You could feel him take deep breaths, while yours were a bit more shallow and sporadic.

A minute or two passed, and suddenly you heard awkward coughing. You withdrew from the hug, looking to the rest of the boys. Hunters left hand remained on your right shoulder.

You normally might’ve felt embarrassed, but right now you were still just happy to be alive. You faced the rest of the group, feeling a little guilty. “I’m sorry everyone. I really thought you were going to kill me. I didn’t mean to frighten any of you.”

Wrecker laughed. “Don’t worry about it General, we don’t scare easy!” Your eyebrows knit together when he called you General.

“If we really wanted to kill you, it would’ve happened already.” Crosshair said. Hunter looked at him disapprovingly. You just laughed. “Thanks Cross.” He made a short nod, and walked off the ramp.

“To be honest, I’ve suspected it for quite some time. Your reflexes, agility, weapon skill with a blade, and extensive experience with alien culture and language all pointed to you being a Jedi.” You raised an eyebrow at Tech after he spoke.

“How long have you known?” You inquired. “Several months.” He replied. You sighed. “You didn’t tell anyone?” You asked. “No. I thought it was obvious.” He stated simply. He walked past you and typed into his data pad. “See you Sera.” He waved without looking up.

“Echo-“ You called up to him. “Don’t worry about it.” He waved off your apology quickly. You just nodded at him. He walked back into the ship.

You turned to Hunter. “Please don’t start calling me General…” He patted your back. “I’ll talk to them, don’t worry about it.” You breathed out a sigh in relief. You relaxed more and looked at your surroundings for a minute. Your eyes found the horizon and you saw a beautiful sunset beginning. “Thank you, Hunter.” The words escaped your mouth as you watched the sunset.

He squeezed your shoulder, which brought your attention to him. “You can breathe easy now.” The corner of his lips turned up a little. You returned the smile and nodded. He patted your shoulder, and it seemed like he didn’t want to let go. He eventually released your shoulder and walked back to the ship, you assumed it was to go to Omega.

You smiled to yourself as you stood alone. This changes everything. You felt more hopeful than you had in years.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 136

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,000ish

Summary: The pregnancy continues. Y/N spends time with Steve. (Read the note at the end of the chapter.)

Warning: car accident

Week 22 was full of compliments from Tony about how Y/N had never looked more beautiful. Her stomach began to get dry and irritated. This led to Tony spending a lot of time rubbing lotion on the baby bump while talking to Morgan.

Week 23 came with worsening symptoms: leg cramps, pregnancy brain, backaches, constipation, and headaches. Y/N was very grateful that Tony was a constant and so very caring. She honestly didn’t know what she would have done without him.

Weeks 24 and 25: Y/N’s sex drive had died, which disappointed the both of them. Tony knew and respected Y/N to know not to push. Her hands also began tingling, which apparently was normal.

Week 26: sleep was definitely not Y/N’s friend. Leg cramps, frequent urination, anxiety, and Morgan’s kicking made it nearly impossible. Tony felt awful, unable to find anyway for Y/N to get rest. A few times, late night drives worked or Tony taking to the bump, but that was few and far between. This left Y/N exhausted and crabby.

Week 27 began with an exhausted Y/N and an intensely worried Tony. They were in the city for Tony to go to a few Stark Industry meetings and so that Y/N could spend some time with Steve.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay down here alone until Rogers comes and picks you up?” Tony was worrying over Y/N. But he was also worried that, if he was any later to the meeting, Pepper would literally murder him.

“I’ll be fine,” Y/N replied, swatting away Tony from the chair she was in. “I love you. Now go.”

Tony pecked her lips. “Love you girls too.” He started hurrying away. “Make sure to take it easy! Let me know if you need anything!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N muttered, waving at Tony.

As Y/N tried to find a comfortable position in the chair, she could feel something was off. Looking around, no one appeared off. She checked around a few more times before just chalking it up to that half the world had disappeared. Steve arrived lot long later and went inside to meet her.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he greeted with a smile. “Wow.” He checked her over. “That baby’s really growing.”

“She is,” Y/N responded, smiling softly as she rubbed her belly. “Somedays I can’t believe it and others I just want her out.”

Steve reached his hands out to help his sister out of the chair. She put her hands in his. “My favorite niece giving my sister trouble?”

“Your favorite niece doesn’t let me sleep.” Steve pulled her up, keeping a hold of her while she tried to balance. “It’s kind of getting on my nerves.”

“Maybe her uncle can talk some sense into her today.”

“Please, she’s stopped listening to her father.”

Steve led her out and helped her into the car. Getting in himself, he began the drive to Brooklyn.

“So, I was thinking that we could eat lunch at this diner that’s opened back up in Brooklyn,” Steve suggested. “Then maybe visit the cemetery, visit the parents and AJ?”

“That all sounds wonderful, Stevie,” Y/N responded. “Morgan makes me hungry all the time, so sorry if I spend all your money.”

“Whatever makes my niece, and my sister, happy.”

~~~

Y/N was so picky yet ordered most of the menu. Steve ordered one small thing, thinking to himself that he’d finish up whatever Y/N didn’t. As they waited for their food, Y/N couldn’t help  but feel something was off again. She looked around again. Y/N could tell that the other people in there were trying not to stare at the former Avengers, trying not to glare. Studying her surroundings like she was taught, her fingers were anxiously tapping against the table.

“Hey,” Steve called out to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N said, swallowing. “It’s just… People hate us. And I don’t blame them. We didn’t protect them like we always sworn to do.”

“Y/N,” Steve reached across and grabbed her hand. “We can’t control them and their thoughts and actions. Only our own.”

“And if they don’t move on?”

Steve sighed. “Then we don’t either.”

~~~

“So, how’s wedding planning coming?” Steve asked once the food arrived.

“Currently, it’s not moving much,” Y/N answered. “I just am exhausted all the time and I can’t even think about trying on a dress right now. I’ve mainly just created several Pinterest boards and such.”

“Well, you two are not in any rush, especially since you’re waiting for little Mo to come.”

“Little Mo?” Y/N giggled. “Is that what you’re going to call her?”

“I figured that, as the uncle, I needed a nickname for my niece.”

“You and Tony can’t just wait for her to come?”

“But it’s still too long of a wait. Like, how many more weeks?”

“I’m week 27 currently, so… I think I technically have 15 more weeks. Ugh, that’s too long! Don’t get me wrong, I have loved growing my daughter inside of me, but I’m tired of it and just want her here.”

“She’ll be here so enough and causing all sorts of problems then too.”

“I guess you’re right… She’s not going to let me sleep for years.”

“Good thing you won’t be doing this alone. You have Tony, Happy, Rhodey, Nat, Pepper, and, like always, you’ll have me.”

“Thanks Stevie. Means a lot.”

~~~

“I bought some flowers, they’re at my place,” Steve stated as they drove away from the diner. “Can we stop there and I can run in and grab them?”

“Of course, Stevie,” Y/N answered. “You mind if I just stay in the car? I’m getting tired.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s too bad though. I’ve never seen your new place.”

“And I haven’t seen yours.”

“I’ll convince Tony and we’ll have you over soon. Or I’ll convince him to leave and sneak you over. That probably won’t happen until Morgan’s here though. He barely let me do this.”

“He’s just scared and he cares. It’s who Tony is.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s one of the reasons why I love him.”

“I am happy for you. Even after all that’s happened.”

“Thanks, Stevie. I hope that one day you can find something that makes you happy as well.”

Steve shot a tight-lipped smile at his sister before pulling off to the side and parking. He rolled down the windows a bit, pulled out his keys, and opened his door.

“I won’t be long,” he said, heading out the door.

“And I’ll just me here,” Y/N responded.

She sighed, leaning back the seat. Taking off her seatbelt, Y/N closed her eyes and rubbed her baby bump. She was so tired and just wanted to rest, though nothing was allowing her to. Then again, Y/N felt like something was off. Her eyes opened and she began to scan the area. Something was not right, and hadn’t been all day. Sitting up straighter, as much as she could, her breath started quickening. Not able to see anything in front of her, Y/N checked the review mirror. She gasped just before a black suv came barreling into Steve’s car. 

Y/N was thrown into the dashboard, causing her to cry out. Steve’s car crashed into the car in front of it. The black suv backed up slightly before ramming into Steve’s car again. This time Y/N’s head it the windshield, cracking it. She screamed.

“P-Pl-Please!” She screamed. “My baby!”

As the black suv backed up again, another one barreled in from the side. This crashed Steve’s car into a lamppost. The window next to Y/N shattered all over her. Her vision was fuzzy from her head’s impact with the windshield and she could tell she had begun bleeding in placed because of the shattered windows.

“Because of you, my family is gone!” She heard someone shout from outside the car. “Because of you have the world is gone!”

“Please! Stop!” Y/N screamed. “Please! I’m pregnant!”

“I’m sure others were as well when they turned to ash!”

Tears were soaking Y/N’s cheeks as she tired to get out of the car. But her door was crushed into the lamppost. Her heart and head were pounding as both cars came at her again. She screamed in agony as something impaled her leg. 

“More of you should have died after failing to protect us!” The voice outside the car continued.

The black suv to her side rammed into Steve’s car again, effectively knocking her out cold.

~~~

Steve was whistling as he hurried down the stairs with the flowers. There were two boutiques, one for his parents and one for his nephew. As he exited his building, he froze. His car was totaled and two black suv’s were speeding away.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “Y/N!”

He ran to the car. Y/N was clearly unconscious, leaning against her crushed door. Steve quickly looked over her. She was bleeding, everywhere. Which was terrifying him. Looking for a way to get his sister out, he realized her door was crushed shut and stuck because of the lamppost.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Steve called. “Please answer me. Wake up and answer me.”

When he didn’t get a response, he began to tear things off the car. He needed to get to Y/N, needed to get her out of there before it was too late.

“Mr. Rogers!” An old woman came rushing out of no where. “I’ve called 911! They’re on their way.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He ripped away the back door, finally.

“They said to wait for them to get her out.”

“Can’t do that. She’s my sister and she’s pregnant.” The sirens were then heard coming towards them.

“Please, Mr. Rogers, they’re almost here. You don’t know what damage you can cause.”

Huffing Steve reached through the shattered window to touch Y/N’s skin. “Stay with me, Y/N. Stay with me.”

~~~

“Where is Y/N?! WHERE IS SHE?!” Steve was sure that Tony’s panic could be heard throughout the whole city. Steve was sitting in the waiting room, head in his hands, as Tony, Happy, and Pepper came running in. “Rogers! Where is Y/N?”

Steve looked up, revealing his puffy red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “She’s—Y/N’s in surgery,” he replied, voice breaking.

“What?! How is she? How’s the baby?”

“She’s— they— I’m so sorry, Tony…”

“Rogers,” Tony growled. “Tell me what—“

“Mr. Stark,” a man called, coming out in scrubs. “I was told you’d arrived. I’m one of the doctors on your fiancé’s case.”

“How is she?” Tony turned to the doctor. “How’s the baby?”

“I’m afraid Miss Rogers was brought in with serious injuries. She was bleeding, quite a lot, and had a serious head injury. The baby was also in clear distress.”

“Clear distress?”

“We had to do an emergency c-section to deliver your baby. She’s currently in surgery as well.” Tony stumbled back, Happy steadying him. “They’re both in critical condition and still have quite a few hours of surgery ahead of us. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you,” Pepper said, as the doctor left.

“Tony, let’s sit you down,” Happy said, guiding Tony down into a seat across from Steve.

“What… happened…?” Tony panted. “I thought you were with her?”

“I needed to grab something, Tony,” Steve responded, clearly feeling all the guilt. “I didn’t think that it would be an issue… I came down from my apartment to see my car completely wrecked against the car in front of it and the lamppost beside it… two black suv’s were speeding away. I didn’t get a good look at them.”

“I can’t— I can’t lose them…”

“I know.”

“If I do… I’m blaming you.”

“Don’t worry, Tony. I’m already blaming myself.”

next chapter >

I leave for Disney World this week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while. Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me…. be respectful and get over yourself.)

Check out the 2 ending chapter titles and possible banners here.

Also, I will be taking all of April off for job hunting and such. Please be kind and understanding. This is important to me.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[incomingalbatross]

BNHA Birthday Ficlet: Bakugo

A day late and a dollar short, but I’ve been back into BNHA lately and toying with the idea of a year-long project doing short fics for the kids’ birthdays. Since I already had this one written and it’s the appropriate time, here it is!

Wordcount: 1033 Warnings: none Relationships: Gen, Midoriya & Bakugo (early canon edition; between USJ and the sports festival)

---

"Izuku, don't forget to eat your breakfast!" 

Looking up, Izuku flushed as he realized he'd stopped with his spoon halfway to his mouth, too engrossed in thought to let his hands keep moving. "Sorry!" he exclaimed, rushing to make up for lost time.

His dish moved a few inches away, nudged by his mother's Quirk. "Don't cram it down either, Izuku," she reminded him laughingly. "What were you thinking about so hard? School again?"

He nodded. "The sports festival is coming so quickly, it feels like," he said, with a sheepish smile. "I don't feel like I'm ready for it at all yet…"

"Oh, you still have time!" His mother reassured him. There was a note of anxiety in her voice--he knew she hadn't adjusted to the idea of him being in this top-level Quirk competition--but she smiled at him all the same. "You still have over a week to train, right?"

"Yeah, it's…" Izuku turned to look at the kitchen calendar. "UA sports festival" was written down at the end of the month, and today was…

Oh.

"Is today the twentieth?" he asked quietly.

His mom, too, fell still. "You're right, it is," she said after a moment. "I hadn't realized."

It's Kacchan's birthday.

"How is Kacchan doing?" his mom asked, as if reminded of a recurring question.

Izuku poked at his breakfast. "I'm…not sure," he said. I'm going to beat you, and that borrowed power! "I think…UA is harder than he expected. Or hard in different ways. It's hard to tell, but…I guess he's having an adjustment period?"

Of course, Kacchan hadn't really been the same since the attack by the sludge villain… That was when he had lost his easy self-assurance, replaced by intensity and solitude as he practically disappeared from their middle school's social system. But their first weeks at UA had definitely taken that to new levels.

"I think he's got a new friend, though," Izuku said, smiling a little at his plate. "Kirishima-kun seems to like him, and he's a really nice person. I think they've been bonding."

Remembering the bus ride to USJ, he added, "I think UA might be really good for Kacchan once he has a little more time to get used to it."

"I'm glad!" his mom said, smiling at him. Then her eyes fell on the clock. "Oh no! Now we really are both going to be late, Izuku, if we don't hurry!"

He did end up bolting his food, and was out the door a few minutes later with a hasty goodbye. He was almost to the campus, amid a crowd of other students, when he saw Kacchan striding along ahead of him.

"Kacchan!" he called out, quickening his pace.

Kacchan turned, his face confused and wary for a second--and then, as he made eye contact with Izuku, his expression turned to sudden realization and rage.

"Don't you dare say a word to me today, Deku!" he roared. And just like that, he turned and hurried toward their classroom again.

…Yeah, okay. I guess I should have seen that coming. Kacchan hadn't liked people making a fuss over his birthday for years, but even so…

"Well, that was some extra-intense intimidation today," Uraraka's bright voice said. "Did something happen, Deku-kun?"

He turned and saw her beside him, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Uh…n-not really…"

I'm the only one here who knows it's his birthday, he realized. He's probably mad because he doesn't want me telling anyone.

He smiled at Uraraka. "Just one of those days, I guess," he finished, shrugging ruefully.

If that's what you want, Kacchan.

Sure enough, his childhood friend was even more on edge than usual for their first class, shifting angrily practically every time Midoriya moved or spoke. Finally, he managed to catch Kacchan's gaze long enough to give a nod and a frown that he hoped conveyed I get it, I'm not going to tell anyone. Kacchan returned to baseline behavior for UA, so it seemed to have worked.

Despite that, however, Midoriya found himself unable to dismiss the topic from his thoughts, and it left him unsettled and irresolute all day.

He knew Kacchan didn't like to have his birthday celebrated. He even sort of understood it, from his point of view--to someone as driven as Kacchan, receiving perfunctory applause for something as basic as being born must seem like a sham, and that attitude had only been encouraged when his own parents stopped celebrating it years ago. 

Even so, though…!

But every time Midoriya thought about saying something, he fell back and pressed his lips together. He knew it would make him angry, and he didn't know that it would make any other difference…

And yet.

And yet, at the end of the day, when he had reached his own apartment building and saw Kacchan walking home ahead of him (his shoulders just a little more slumped than they had been at UA), Deku couldn't suppress it any more.

"Kacchan!" he called again, stopping outside his building. Chin up and gaze determined, he didn't wait for Kacchan to turn this time. "Happy birthday, Kacchan."

The other boy halted. "Frickin' shut up, Deku!" he shouted without turning around. "Whaddya think I am, three? And what part of 'don't talk to me' was too complicated for you?!"

"Sorry!" he shouted back. "I had to say it!"

Kacchan whirled around, pointing at him. "I'll kill you in training tomorrow!" he roared. Then he spun back and stomped onward.

"Sorry," Deku said again in a quieter voice, staring after him. Then he went onward himself.

Sorry, Kacchan. I know you don't want me to say it, and maybe I should shut up. But…it's not like anyone else was going to, today.

"And somebody should," he muttered, trudging up the stairs. "Because…I mean it, you jerk!"

He remembered a fragment of sound and color from long, long ago: a birthday party of cake and sunlight and good wishes, and Kacchan beaming in fierce, uncomplicated delight as he unwrapped the All Might figure Deku had given him. "Thanks, Deku! He's awesome!"

Deku sighed. "I hope you have a happy birthday, Kacchan," he murmured. "And I hope next year is happier than this."

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | five

A/N: This is the last part of this mini series!  I know this adventure was short but thank you all for coming along on the ride :)    A quick reminder that I will be announcing my new fic, who it will feature, a small blurb, & a clue as to what to expect from it this Thursday at 7:30pm EST.  Happy reading!

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); parent death; swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                               *     *     *     *     *

“You look beautiful, baby,” Brock cooed as he adjusted his cufflinks – well, not really.  He was looking at Grace, not really caring about his cufflinks.  Seeing her stand there in her beautiful dress, her hair curled and pinned, and her delicate jewelry hanging off her ears, neck, and wrists…she was a vision.  He was so lucky.

They were about to leave to attend the Parkinson’s Foundation of British Columbia Gala.  Grace had planned virtually the whole thing, though she worked with the head of the foundation on most major decisions.  She arranged the venue, catering, got major sponsors (okay…the biggest were her uncles, but there were a lot more), organized the silent auction, and arranged the entertainment for the evening.  Everyone who attended their weekly meetings would be there.  Brock knew the Aquilinis would be there.  It was a party, yes, and a function to raise money, yes – but at the end of the day, it was a culmination of Grace’s strength after Hamish passed away.

“Thanks, babe,” she smiled over at him, taking one last look at herself in the mirror.  “Are Petey and Svea ready to go?”

Brock nodded.  “Petey’s been texting for fifteen minutes asking if we’re on our way yet,” he joked.

“You can blame it on me,” she winked.  “Unless Petey takes a good look at your hair.  Then he’ll know it was you.”

Brock laughed out loud, taking the few steps needed to stand right in front of her and wrap his arms around her.  “Hey…before we go,” his voice was low and he looked down at Grace.  “Your dad would be so proud of you for planning this.”

Grace nodded her head.  She knew.  It was a lot of work, and she completely went in head first with planning all of it and maybe, sort of taking over the entire operation, but it was worth it.  She had planned something that would raise money that, hopefully, would fund research so that nobody would have to go through what she went through.  She didn’t just want to be known as an heiress daughter of a billionaire; she wanted to be known as so much more.  An heiress who used her money to fund research projects and arts centres; an heiress who donated her time and money to worthy causes.  She once told Brock that she knew she wasn’t the smartest girl in the world, but that she thought she had a big heart.  She hoped this was the start of others in her community, and in Vancouver, realizing that she had a big heart.

***

“Grace, this is amazing,” Svea couldn’t help but say astonishingly as she took yet another look around the giant room, decorated to the nines with flashing lights and impeccably dressed people chatting and drinking and dancing.  Svea knew Grace would be busy throughout the night, so she wasn’t trying to hog her after their limousine ride together.  But now that Svea got her alone, she had to verbalize it again, just like she did when she walked in.  “Like, I don’t think you understand.  It’s incredible.”

“Want to let me plan your wedding to Elias?” Grace winked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh shut up.”

“There she is!” the women both heart Elias yell.  They turned around and saw him and Brock walking towards them, both with drinks in their hands.  “Grace, this is so cool.”

“Thanks Petey.  And thanks for donating your jersey.”

“Anything for you.”

Grace focused her attention on Brock.  “Esther wants us to take a group photo with everyone before everyone leaves,” she said, and Brock nodded his head in agreement.  She looked at Elias.  “If I get everyone together right now, do you mind taking it?”

“Like I just said Grace, anything for you.”

***

Fatigued, physically and mentally exhausted, but still somehow feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins, Grace climbed into the limousine with Brock, Elias, and Svea at the end of the gala so they could go home.  They dropped off Elias and Svea first, naturally, and Elias had to wake Svea up as she slept on his shoulder throughout the ride.  It left Brock and Grace alone in the limousine together, hands clasped together as the driver drove through the streets of Vancouver.

“You did amazing tonight,” Brock mumbled, his voice low and full of sleepiness but still so direct and meaningful.  “I love you so much, Grace.”

“I love you too, Brock.”

“When we have kids, I’m gonna let them know this was the night I knew you’d become my wife.”

Grace stiffened at Brock’s words, but he was too tired to notice – the small smirk on his face not disappearing despite anxiety – not adrenaline – now coursing through Grace’s veins.  She thought about the implications of his words, how he just outright admitted that she was the one for him.  She thought about her feelings for him, and if she felt the same.  She did.  But was it possible to still be apprehensive?  She loved Brock with her whole heart.  She’d never met anybody like him, and likely would never meet anyone like him again.  She loved him too, with everything she had.

But then she thought about her parents.

Her parents were young and in love once too.  Her parents were once obsessed with each other and madly in love.  Her parents had decided to get married and have a child.  Her parents had decided what Brock was laying out on the proverbial table – what Brock was so willing to give her – and look what happened.  Things didn’t work out.  Love didn’t work out.  Love was complicated.  They separated.  Grace went to live with Eliza but didn’t like it because she missed dad.  She told Hamish who told his lawyers.  His lawyers brought it to the judge.  Divorce proceedings started.  Grace went to live with Hamish.  Eliza demanded alimony for her lifestyle, to maintain it, if not to exceed it.  Eliza demanded child support.  Eliza demanded nannies, a multi-million dollar house, and expensive cars.  Hamish would tell Grace her mother was selfish.  Eliza would tell Grace how stingy her father was.  Eliza would tell Grace how her father only wanted custody so he didn’t have to pay child support.  Hamish told Grace Eliza only wanted child support and alimony so she could hire babysitters and nannies while she went to spas.  A pawn while she was at her mom’s in Shaughnessy; a pawn while she was at her dad’s in West Point Grey.  A pawn when dropped off at school at Crofton House.  A pawn at the dance studio, her happiest place.

What if she and Brock turned out the same way?

***

“You okay?” Brock asked Grace.

Grace wasn’t there.  She was somewhere else, in her mind, thinking about events long passed.  “Your father’s the cheapest man I’ve ever met,” she could hear her mom say in the kitchen as she waited for her cereal before school at seven years old.  “Cheap cheap cheap cheap cheap!  He’s always been so much work to be with, your father.  He refuses to get you a Range Rover – did you know that?  Your dad wants you driven around in some…in some…I don’t know, some Toyota.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Grace said absent-mindedly, giving her pasta a few more twirls to make it seem like she’d eat it.  “Will I still be able to go to dance?”

“Who knows?!  Your father may even take that away from you too!  It scares me, the things he’s taking away from you.”

“But I love dance.”

“Well then maybe you should stay with me.  Daddy will pay me to take you to dance.”

***

“Your mother is a piece of work, let me tell you,” Hamish mumbled as he slapped his cellphone down on the counter.  “She was always so much work to be with.  Always so much work.  Now she wants $60,000 a month in alimony.  Alimony!”

“What’s alimony?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hamish said.  “Have your teachers taught you yet what it means to be selfish?” he asked.  Grace nodded her head.  “Well your mother is selfish.  One of the most selfish people in the world.”

“Grace?  You coming to bed?” Brock’s voice was groggy as he stood in the doorway of the ensuite, his usually well-kept hair everywhere, his eyes sleepy.

“Yeah…yeah, sorry,” Grace apologized, getting up from her seated position on the toilet lid.  “Sorry baby.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.  Yeah I’m fine,” she said, grabbing Brock’s hand and leading him back to bed.

“You’d tell me if it wasn’t right?” he asked softly as she cuddled up against him in bed.

“Of course,” she said, a nervous lump in her throat.  “Of course.”

***

“Gracie…please tell me what’s wrong,” Brock said in a low voice as he tried to wrap his arms around her, only for her to flinch slightly and back away.  That hurt him more than anything.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said unconvincingly.

“Yes it is—”

“Can we just drop it,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.  “We’re supposed to be on a date.”

***

“What’s the matter with you?” Elias asked, sick of seeing Brock so gloomy and moody the past several weeks.  He’d noticed a change in him, and though Brock was usually very open about what he was feeling with him, he wasn’t this time, and Elias was…skeptical.  Well, not skeptical – worried.  This time, Brock had a girlfriend and was moody, and Elias didn’t know what to expect.  “What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong with Grace,” Brock revealed to Elias.

“What’s wrong?”

Brock shook his head.  “She won’t tell me.  But she…she zones out a lot, like she’s thinking about something…and it’s so intense that she doesn’t even hear me calling her.”

“What’s she thinking about?”

Brock shrugged.  “She doesn’t tell me.  She’ll never tell me.”

“Well when did it start?”

Brock thought about it.  He really thought about it.  He liked to think he was in tune with changes in Grace.  “The gala.”

“The Parkinson’s Gala?” Elias clarified.  Brock nodded his head.  “Well, could it be about her dad?”

“It’s something more,” Brock was adamant.  He knew she would be sad and would never be the same after her dad died.  That was a given.  No-one was ever the same after the death of a parent, so he didn’t blame her for that.  “It’s…it’s something more.”

***

“Is everything okay with you?” Svea asked delicately as she and Grace were shopping at Holt Renfrew.  Well – Grace was shopping at Holt Renfrew.  Svea was basically just following her around, because it wasn’t like she could afford anything.

“I’m fine,” Grace said unconvincingly.  

“Are you sure?  Because you know you can talk to me if things aren’t okay.”

Grace took a deep breath in, trying to compose herself.  Knowing what she knew about Svea’s parents and their love story, she doubted that Svea would be able to provide any…critical insight, so to speak.  But Grace tried anyway.  “How d’you know a guy is your soulmate, Svea?” she asked.

Svea was taken aback.  It was quite the loaded question to lead with.  “I’d say it’s when you can picture the rest of your life with them.  At least that’s one aspect to it.”

“Can you picture the rest of your life with Elias?”

“Yes,” Svea answered automatically, because she could.  It was as friends, sure, but she still pictured the rest of her life with him.  “Can you picture the rest of your life with Brock?”

Grace paused.  Her response wasn’t as quick or forthcoming.  “Yes.”

“But?”

“But what?”

“There was a pause there,” Svea said.  “But what?”

“But what if, like, things change?” Grace asked.  “What if the love doesn’t last?  What if it breaks down?”

“You mean like your parents?”

Grace didn’t want to glare at Svea – she really didn’t, because Svea was one of the sweetest people alive – but she did.  She glared at her.  “No,” she said forcefully, trying to cover.

“Love always lasts.  True love always lasts.  Look at Elias and I – I mean, we’ve loved each other our whole lives—”

“You and Elias won’t even hold hands or kiss each other,” Grace said angrily, unable to control her emotions at this point.  “You won’t even admit you love him romantically.  How the hell is that love?”

Svea just stared at Grace, unable to formulate words.  Tears welled in her eyes too, and when Grace saw them get red, she hated herself even more.  She hated herself already for making Brock worry, for not telling him the truth, for hiding things from him; now, she hated herself even more for making Svea emotional.  “I’ve gotta go,” she said, leaving quickly, unable to look back at Svea as she left her in the middle of Holt Renfrew alone.

***

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong right now or I’m leaving,” Brock said sternly, his voice raised.  Both of their voices had been for the last while now, since they were fighting.  He looked at Grace as she stared back at him indignantly from across the kitchen.  “We can’t have a relationship if we don’t communicate – if you don’t tell me what’s been bothering you.”

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“Is it something I did?  Did I say something?”

“It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

“There’s nothing wr—”

“Tell me what’s wrong!”

Grace stayed silent.  She could feel herself going red.  She could feel the emotions in her bubble up.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer.  “Leave.”

Brock furrowed his brows.  “Excuse me?”

“Leave my apartment now.”

Brock stood stoic in spot.  “You don’t mean that—”

“LEAVE!” Grace screamed at the top of her lungs, taking every ounce of strength left in her to not cry.

They were in a standoff.  Brock stood stoic.  Grace stood stoic.  Staring at each other, waiting for the other to move.  Neither did for a while, waiting it out to see who would crack first.  She didn’t mean it, Brock kept thinking.  She doesn’t mean it.  She doesn’t mean it.  But with every second that passed, with every heave of Grace’s chest, with every moment of silence signaling her refusal to budge…

Brock cracked.  

He picked up his keys, gave Grace one last look, and walked out the door.  

***

It was a few agonizing, excruciating, unbearably lonely few weeks later when Brock received a phone call in the middle of the night.  2:38am.  His phone’s ring blaring throughout his empty apartment.

“Hello?” his voice was groggy, tired, exhausted.  

Silence.  

“Hello?” he asked once more, louder this time.  If it was any one of his teammates he’d knock them dead the next time he saw them – Petey especially.

The voice was small and defeated when it finally did speak, asking Brock the question, “What if we end up like my parents?”

Brock was wide awake now.  He got up in bed dramatically, holding his phone against his ear so tightly that he could hear the charger fall out of the electrical socket.  “Gracie,” the shock was evident in his voice.  

“Will you come over?” she asked.

Brock threw the covers off his body dramatically.  “I’m on my way right now,” he said.  He’d drive his car in his slippers if he needed to.  

“Be careful.”

“I’m coming.  I’ll be there soon.”

***

“C’mere,” Brock said the millisecond Grace let him in, wrapping his arms around her and engulfing her into a hug as she clung to him like he’d float away and wrapped every limb she had around him.  He’d made it to her apartment in record time, speeding through the streets of Vancouver to get to her.  It was probably dangerous, but it wasn’t like there were other cars on the road at 2:45 in the morning.  “Talk to me Gracie.  Talk to me,” he urged as he felt her tears against his skin.  

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled into the crook of his neck.  “I’m so—Brock, I was so bad.  So bad.”

“Shhhhh shhhh shhhh, don’t,” Brock cooed.  “Just tell me what’s wrong.  What’s going on in your head, Grace?”

“Brock…” she began, swallowing her tears before continuing.  She pulled away slightly so she could look him in the eye, wiping her own red ones with the palms of her hands.  She knew she looked awful, but she also knew Brock didn’t give a shit.  “I just miss him so much.”

“Your dad.”

Grace nodded quickly.  “Every part of me misses him.  But then I started to think about how awful he and my mom were during the divorce,” she explained.  And to Brock, that said everything.  Grace told him about it ever since they met – the general, the specific, the nitty-gritty details – and it was awful.  To have that whirling around in her mind would have definitely affected her.  It all made sense to him now.  It all made sense, knowing she never wanted to go back to that.  “And I got scared…I got so scared.  I just kept remembering how bad it was.  So on the night of the gala when you said—”

“So it was something that I said—”

“Nonononononono,” she vehemently shook her head, bringing her finger up to his lips to silence him.  “No no no no no.  I—Brock—I love you with every part of me too.  But…but what if we end up like my parents?  What if we fall out of love?  What if it—what if it ends badly?  What if we ended up hating each other?  They’d always say things like it was so hard to be with one another and—”

“Is it hard to be with me?” Brock asked, not wanting her to go any further and knowing that at this point, he needed to intervene.

“NO!  Never!” she exclaimed.  She never wanted Brock to think that ever.  She cradled his face in her hands.  “Being with you feels natural.  It feels like it was always supposed to be this way.  It’s so easy.  It’s so peaceful.”

“Then that’s how it’ll always be, a peaceful easy feeling,” Brock whispered.  “What’s there to be scared about, baby?”

Grace shook her head, tearing up again.  “Nothing when I’m with you.”

“We won’t end up like your parents because we’re not your parents,” he said.  His words were so simple but they hit Grace like a ton of bricks.  “We’re different people.  I love you more than anything, and the thought of hating you—Grace—I—it’s never, never crossed my mind.  I never could.  You give me everything.  Do I give you everything?”

She nodded.  “Everything.”

“Then I’m gonna keep giving you everything.  And I’ll do it till the end of time, Gracie.  Because I love you.  I can’t picture myself with anyone else.  I can’t…I can’t picture going through pain with anyone else besides you.”

Brock’s words were loaded – she knew that.  “I can’t picture going through pain with anyone else besides you.”  Grace nodded.  The sentiment was so serious, but so right.  When she really thought about it, would she have wanted to experience this pain with anyone else besides Brock?  No.  He meant the world to her.  And that’s how it was always going to be.  “I’m so dumb,” she shook her head at herself.

“You’re not dumb.  For what you went through, it’s a legitimate worry,” he reassured her.  “But I promise you, I promise you, I’ll love you with everything I have and you’ll love me with everything you have, and we won’t end up like your parents.”

Grace was overcome with emotion.   “I love you so much, Brock.”

“I love you too,” he leaned in to kiss her, once, twice, then again and again.  When they stopped, he wrapped his arms around her body and lay down on her couch, bringing her body down with him.  He wiggled out of his hoodie.  Then he pushed her body down slightly, and that’s when Grace knew exactly what he was doing.  She lay her head on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat.  

“Can you feel it?” he asked softly.

Grace nodded.

[serendipityjxmn]

Chapter 11

TW: None

Words Count: 2.6k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 12

You think one day of rest was enough since you can walk perfectly well now without wincing. So you wake earlier than Jimin the next day, marvelling at his features for a few moments but also fighting the urge to punch him out of giving you sleeping pills so you could oversleep and not come to work.

But now that you’ve reached the office, you feel nervous. You don’t know how to face Minhyuk. You don’t know if you could even face him.

Luckily, you don’t see him at all throughout the morning. During lunch however, when you return to the office, you see him first before he does yet he just brushes right pass you. You feel relieved yet you can’t shake off the strange feeling.

And your hunch turns out to be right when Minhyuk starts being mean from the next encounter and forward. He gets angry at you for the smallest of reasons. He doesn’t quite look at you when he gives order and when you ask him to clarify things, sometimes he would glare at you. It also doesn’t help that as you get more nervous you tend to make more mistakes.

Work feels even more exhausting when you’re mentally stressed at workplace. You come home with a headache that one night.

As soon as you prepared Jimin’s dinner, you hunt for some medicines and brings it with you as you head towards the room at the end of the hallway which you’ve somehow turned into your small office area (and your husband doesn’t seem to mind so-). You sit yourself on the sofa and shifts through the documents. The expenses report from several departments submitted during today’s meeting aren’t due for review until Friday yet Minhyuk says he wants to see it first thing next morning. You know he’s just doing it to get back at you and he’d probably ended up stacking the files on his table untouched just like the last task which means you’re doing this for naught anyway but you don’t want to give him any chance of finding your fault so here you are.

Your head feels like spinning so you quickly gulp down the medicine and force yourself to start on your work. Half an hour into it though, you don’t realize when you had fallen asleep.

You wake up next day in your own bed, perfectly tucked in while Jimin sleeps soundly next to you. You sit up almost immediately.

You look at the sleeping figure next to you, his snores are very light, you note.

Unknowingly, you inch closer to his side. You’ve always loved his smell. He just smells like... him.

You’re pretty sure he tucked you in last night. Why does he pretend to be so harsh all the time if he actually cares for you?

Maybe it isn’t impossible to build a civil relationship with him. With your husband.

You stare at his features. You can’t deny it. Jimin’s really good looking. And this good looking man is your husband. Sometimes you still have trouble believing.

Your eyes fall to his lips. His plump pink lips looks very tempting. You briefly wonder if-

Don’t.

Don’t fall for him.

And at that exact moment, Jimin’s eyes shot open while simultaneously his hand grips your right hand that hovers over his face seconds ago tightly. You freeze completely, not moving a muscle because you know he’s doing it out of reflex and you don’t want to dwell on how he’s trained for that.

His stare at you is murderous and your hand move to retreat but he kept his grip vice like on your wrist.

And you could feel the intensity slowly rising between the both of you.

You could’ve sworn his face inches closer to you and you panic instantly so you back away and sit up. Without wasting another breath, you get up and disappear into the shower.

You panic at your desk. In light of this morning’s incident, finding yourself in your bed instead of the sofa as well the tense moments with Jimin, you weren’t in the right state of mind so you completely forgot about the report Minhyuk asks you to handle yesterday.

You gather your courage to tell Irene first.

“Ah the sales reports?” She says and you nod. “Mr. Park already handed it to me first thing this morning when he arrived. I went to see Mina just now and handed the reports to Mr. Kim as well.”

O...kay. You definitely don’t expect that but you can’t help but sigh in relief. Did Jimin take it last night when he finds you in the small library room?

“Wait. If you brought the files home last night, how does Mr. Park have it?” Irene narrows her eyes at you.

Shoot. “Um- I forgot I didn’t- I mean, I just realized I didn’t bring it home at all. My head was really spinning last night and I thought I brought it home, turns out I didn’t.” You fake a smile. “Perhaps Mr. Park saw it on my table.”

Irene huffed at your answer, perhaps contemplating whether to believe you or not. She doesn’t say anything after that.

You’re at Mina’s table, discussing with her about updates on meetings with R&D team as requested by your husband when Kim Minhyuk appears from his office room, storming at you with a furious look.

“Miss Y/N, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” He shouts at you, making everyone at the office look up and you feel small immediately. “Are you even doing your job?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim-“

“This!” He pushes a document towards you and you look down to see the sales report yesterday.

“Is there something wrong-“

“You fucking tell me.” He snarls. “Tell me, how on earth did you organize this? I don’t understand a single thing. Did you even do it?”

You remain silent. Because he’s right. You didn’t do it. But how can you say that? What would you say to him? That your husband, the president, the CEO arranged the report?

“I honestly have no idea if you’re coming for work or you’re just fucking around.” He hisses.

You literally hear the gasps from your office mate.

You draw a breath, trying to calm yourself to face Minhyuk. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim if you’re not satisfied but-“

“Mr. Park.” Someone says. Your stomach lurch instantly.

Both you and Minhyuk look up. Your lung drops when you sight your husband standing few metres away, his hands in his pocket.

“Jimin.” Minhyuk addresses your husband.

Jimin’s eyes are on you and you look down immediately. Anxiety starts filling you up. Is he going to shout at you too?

He crosses the distance and stops short before you and Minhyuk.

“Minhyuk.” Jimin nods at him. “Do you mind if I borrow.. my wife for a moment?”

Everyone in the room gasps including you.

You stare up at him, eyes wide in shock. He wasn’t looking at you, he was smiling at Minhyuk although you know it’s entirely a facade.

You eyes flicker to Minhyuk. His expression is priceless. You’ve never seen him in a state more shock, what with all his constant smirk or flirty expression.

“Y-your wife?” He stutters.

Jimin steps closer to you then place his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him that earns another gasp around the room. “My wife,” he reconfirms. Then towards you, he smiles briefly before he pulls you with him and leaves you at your desk before you could say anything as he walks back towards his office.

You’ve no idea what to say.

Everyone knows you’re his wife now.

And you’ve never felt so guilty towards Jimin.

Irene had never been this loud before, you think.

“Like what on earth- I really wouldn’t know! Like you know, with the way he’s treating you or literally everyone with his cold personality. Oh well, I guess that explains his stares at you.”

You stare at her. “He.. stares.. at me?”

“He does! Quite a lot actually. Caught him on a few occasions. You probably won’t notice them but I have eyes of a hawk.” She winks at you.

“You’re sure he’s not doing it to everyone?”

“Hmm he kind of does actually.. But with you- I don’t know. The look is softer, I think.” Irene says fondly.

You shake your head. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m not.” She sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or anyone for that matter.”

You give her a small smile. “We wanted to keep it private. Don’t really wanna mix work.”

She nods at this. Then suddenly, her eyes widen at you then clasps your hand tightly. “Oh God! You really really have to forgive me.”

You frown. “You did something wrong?”

“Remember when you asked me about Clara Kim? Oh God- and I freaking told you she’s his girlfriend oh Lord- I’ve commited a huge sin, I know- and I’m so so sorry-“

You burst out laughing. She looks puzzled at first but then joins you. Then she turns serious. “But were you for real? You really don’t know who Clara Kim is?”

You bit your lips, unsure how to answer her. Then you slowly nod. “I don’t know.”

She looks at you in sympathy then leans down to whisper, “You think he’s cheating?”

You know he does. “No, I don’t think so. If he is, why would he let his wife be his secretary where she practically knows all his schedule?”

“Hmph. Makes sense, I guess.” She straightens herself then. “Okay. I’m going out to lunch. You coming?”

At that same moment, Jimin comes out. His eyes find you immediately. “Had your lunch?”

“I’m about to head out with Irene.”

“No- no Mr. Park. I forgot I actually had plans with my boyfriend. She’s all yours.” Irene says, already picking up her stuffs and standing.

You know she just made that up so you try as hard to give her the eye that you don’t wanna go for lunch with your husband now but she dashes off super quickly, leaving you with your husband.

“Come on.” He says.

You stand rooted to your spot, not budging. Jimin turns back to look at you. “I’m- I’m gonna have lunch with Mina.”

He glares at you and you almost want to cower but still holds your decision.

“Fine then.” He grunts then walks away. You heave a sigh of relief.

You don’t actually plan to have lunch with Mina. In fact, you don’t feel like going out at all. Instead, you sink back onto your chair. Your iPad in front of you flashes and you grab it instantly.

You feel your blood runs cold immediately upon seeing it.

You’re all over the news.

[REVEALED] Seoul’s most successful young CEO, Park Jimin’s wife identity revealed.

Mid this year, a large population of young women in South Korea had their hearts broken when arguably, Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, a young and good looking, successful CEO of the largest tech company, Park Jimin announced that he would be tying the knot with non-public figure woman, who’s identity remains closely kept secret.

But we finally know now who’s the girl that has stolen the heart of the heir to Parks Corporations. The woman is revealed to be __, 23 years old, currently working as secretary at Park Jimin’s own company, Bangtan Inc. It seems like the President wants to keep the wife close- much to the single ladies who’s working in the company’s heartbreak. The background of Park Jimin’s wife is yet to be known but whoever she may be, she must be reading a helluva of a prenup. Bagging South Korea’s allegedly most eligible bachelor, perhaps we can arrange a session to ask for a tip or two?

You wish the ground could swallow you whole.

Isn’t it illegal to be exposing informations of non public figure like this? Though you suppose the writer is trash anyway when he exposed your identity while clearly stating you’re a non public figure in the same line.

Wasn’t your marriage to Jimin suposed to be a secret and your identity kept hidden?

Yeah but then you yourself went to work at his company, gets harrassed that drive to the point of Jimin having to expose your relationship.

God. Both your index finger pressed each side of your temple tightly.

You’re contemplating whether you’re supposed to go back with Jimin so you decided to just go with him if he comes out of the office around the same time you’re off work but if he doesn’t then you’ll head home first and you desperately pray for the latter.

However, all hopes went down the drain when Jimin appears out of his room and only glares at you for a few seconds before you scramble to your feet and hastily packs your stuff.

And that’s how you find yourself walking timidly, very self conscious behind him as everyone stares at the two of you and you think it couldn’t get anymore embarassing at this.

Jimin is silent during the car ride. He busied himself with his iPad, leaving you fidgeting in the heavy silence. You decided to just man up and address the elephant in the room.

“J-Jimin..” you call softly. “I’m sorry it came down to this.. and now everyone knows you’re- I’m- um.. we’re-“

“Married.” He cuts you off.

You look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still on his tab.

“We’re married.” He repeats. “Is that so hard to say?” He asks, finally looking at you.

“No- I me-“

“Nevermind.” He turns his gaze back to his tab and the conversation is over.

You don’t mean it that way but you just don’t want people looking down at him for marrying you, someone of no status and not even a decent upbringing background.

You play with the spoon on your hand, guilt still swallowing you whole. Drawing a breath, you look up at Jimin who’s drinking his glass of water. You’re both on the dining table, only sounds of cutleries can be heard.

“Jimin, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to get exposed. I’m sorry.” You say softly.

His expression turns cold. “Are you?” He asks, looking straight at you with piercing eyes, making you recoil.

“What do you mean? I didn’t want this to happen either-“

“Yeah none of this would’ve happened if you just sit your ass at home, playing house or the perfect fucking wife.” He sneers. “Instead, you just have to work in my own fucking company, get yourself harrassed and left me with no choice.”

You want to answer him, that he’s being unfair because you didn’t ask to be harrassed but Jimin was raging so you stay muted.

“It’s dangerous, do you know that? Now everyone knows who my wife is and it’s fucking dangerous-“

“Why?” You cut him. “Tell me why it’s dangerous- Jimin who are you-“

He raises from his seat and leans down to you, face merely inches away and you swallow. “I’m a dangerous person darling.. I can snap your neck in two and you won’t see it coming.” He says as his fingers touch your neck, in an act that seems as if it’s caressing it but you know better. “And now that everyone knows who you are.. that means they can come and snap your neck too baby. But of course, you wouldn’t see it coming. And that’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. Not when I tell you to quit your fucking job, not ever.”

He raises again, standing upright before turning on his wheels and leaves you. You struggle to calm your erratic breath and nerves. And finally, you let the tears flow.

That night too, you wrote the resignation letter.

Link to Chapter 12

Posted on 210423 9:00PM

[nolanell]

The Arcade: Writer Wednesday September 29th 2021

Writer Wednesday: @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape

Pairing: Steve Harrington (Stranger Things) x GN!Reader

Warnings: This initally takes place in a loud, bright, crowded arcade and the reader is on the verge of a panic attack. Mention of crowded spaces, loud noise, bright lights, symptoms of the onset of a panic attack and techniques for grounding to prevent a panic attack (the symptoms of an oncoming panic attack are just what I have personally experienced, not universal symptoms, and the technique in the story is just what works for me as a person, this is not advice or saying it can or should work for everyone). Also mentions of anxiety about moving to a new area and making new friends, starting at a new high school, and brief mention of the end of the world (in a lighthearted, sarcastic way). There are no spoilers for the show, but some characters are mentioned by name.

Character Notes: Reader is completely undescribed physically, but they are of high school age, which is mentioned in the story.

Length: ~1.4k

Not for the first time, you wondered why you were here. You were semi-convinced some apocalyptic event was going to kick off while you were at the arcade, given the stories your friends had shared with you since you arrived in town. They’d sworn they were all true, your neighbour friend’s little sister proudly stating she was in the same class as Mike, Lucas, Will and Dustin, and she was taught by Mr. Clarke. She’d heard whispered conversations as she passed the AV Club room. She promised she knew certain things were true.

Your friends had convinced you to come along to the arcade for some video game time and terrible arcade food. Make the most of the last week before high school started up again, before the worry of whether you’d be in any of their classes set in. You’d made friends with them as they lived on your street; you weren’t sure you could take being plunged back into the world of not knowing a soul, not sure how to start again, how to not neglect the friends you had already made. You wanted to have a good time, forget those worries, you really did, but you just couldn’t relax. It was too crowded, too loud, too bright; one of these things alone would be just about manageable but all three was too much. The neon lights were too harsh, you felt like you could hear them thrumming along to accompany the incessant synth music that pumped up everybody’s adrenaline; pushed them to play, play, play, and get that elusive high score. This compounded the crowds which formed around arcade machines; every machine with someone doing well and the entourage of friends surrounding them, shoving in to get a good view. The people milling around looking for their friends or a free machine jostled the groups and meant you couldn’t stand still for more than a second before someone else was barging into you, not really paying attention to where they were going. Anyone older dismissed you as a young kid who should watch where they are, and anyone younger was too wrapped up in their arcade adventure to care. As you felt that pit in your stomach, that unpleasant wave start to course through your body, the clammy feel to your skin prickling under the AC on the exposed parts of your skin, you leant over to one of the group and lightly tapped her on the shoulder.

‘Hey, I’m gonna go outside and get some air,’ you said as you cupped your hand to funnel your speech, to making it easier to hear.

She nodded, gripped your forearm, and squeezed. She said something as you turned to leave, you thought, but you couldn’t be sure. Speech was starting to blur into just one noise, sounded so loud and yet so far away all at once. The lights were so bright you felt like you could see everything and nothing; the arcade machines were hyper-detailed with their bright colours and logos, but you also could not register facial features of the people you shoved through to get to the doors. Finally, you managed to make out the glowing red word ‘EXIT’ and you surged forward, knowing cool air, open space and quieter sounds were just ahead. You half leaned, half fell on the door, pushing it open and almost threw yourself down the concrete stairs onto the sidewalk. You collapsed onto the floor, leaning your back on the little wall that ran in front of the arcade, tilting your head back and resting it on one of the railing beams. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest, your chest itself was rising and falling with every rushed breath you inhaled and exhaled. You closed your eyes, hoping to come back to yourself, hoping to slow yourself down. This didn’t have to reach the crescendo of a full-blown attack. This could be brought back down. You were out of the trigger. It’s okay. You’re okay.

‘Hey, you okay?’ a voice asked you. It sounded concerned.

‘I will be,’ your voice sounded breathless in between gasps of air.

‘You sure?’ the voice asked.

‘Yes,’ you virtually snapped. ‘Sorry. Yes, I’ll be fine.’

‘Don’t worry,’ the voice seemed unfazed by your snap. ‘Would you like… would you like some help breathing?’

Your brow creased a little. You would like some help, but you also had no idea who this person was, and you did not have the mental or emotional fortitude to deal with meeting a new person right now. Then again, they did offer to help without you even looking at them…

‘If that’s too much, it’s alright,’ the voice said.

How this person was so understanding was beyond you, but it helped you decide. ‘Some help breathing would be great, actually.’

‘Sure,’ the voice said. ‘Just slowly breathe in…’

Your breath dragged inward, and you heard breathe in too. ‘And hold for three… two… one… and let it out slowly.’

You heard them exhale and you followed their lead. This went on a few times, you following their lead each time. The gaps between finishing the last rhythm and starting the next got longer and longer, until you found yourself noticing that your breathing was at its normal pace again, without even having to force it or concentrate. You felt grounded, and while you would never say it was like it never happened, you felt calm. You brought your head up, not yet opening your eyes. That would take a moment. You exhaled slowly, not quite a sigh but not quite just a normal breath out.

‘How you doing?’ the voice asked.

‘Okay,’ you nodded slowly. You opened your eyes. The fairground that had set up in the park across the street was in full swing, the music and the bright lights feeling more nostalgic than terrifying. At this distance, you could watch and enjoy. There were a few people nearby but nowhere near the crush of the crowd that had been inside. People were chatting, laughing, having a good time. Small groups scattered around the sidewalk on both sides of the street, trying to decide between the lure of the fair or the old faithful fun of the arcade. You turned to your left, looking for the owner of the voice.

‘Thank you,’ you said, looking at the voice’s owner. He was not what you were expecting, and you made a note not to keep having preconceptions.

His whole look was… cool. There was no denying it. His hair was outstanding, particularly. You didn’t even want to think about how much he probably spent on hairspray in a month. He had a light grey jacket on, jeans and hi-top sneakers. It was a super chill look but he made it the most awesome outfit you’d ever seen. Yet as you looked closer, there was something sad, something not quite sure of himself in those big dark eyes, and you found yourself wondering how much of the super-cool exterior was a shield to the world.

‘No worries, it can get intense in there,’ he nodded at the arcade.

‘Sure can. I really appreciate your help,’ you smiled.

‘Hey, no problem. You in town for the fair?’ he asked.

‘No, I moved here over the summer,’ you shake your head.

‘Gotcha,’ he nodded.

You stood up, rolling your neck and shoulders, and puffed out a sigh. You could see one of your friends coming to the door, the one you spoke to, and gave her a thumbs up. She held up a soda cup, silently asking if you wanted one. You nodded, but mimed drinking it and then pointed to the ground a couple of times, indicating you wanted to stay outside. She nodded and disappeared from view.

‘Seriously, thanks for your help. I really do appreciate it,’ you smiled.

‘No problem, I know what it can be like. Things get surprisingly crazy around here,’ he took a step toward you. ‘Steve Harrington,’ he offered his hand out.

No way. The guy your friend’s little sister swore was besties with Dustin? You tentatively gave your name and shook his hand. ‘So I’ve heard about it getting crazy around here, I mean. Nice to meet you, Steve. See you around?’

‘Sure,’ he nodded. ‘I gotta get back to work,’ he nodded at the video store, ‘but I’ll see you around.’

Hawkins was definitely an interesting place to be, but you were starting to think people’s friendships were meaningful here. It was going to be okay. You were going to be okay.

[spockandawe]

Hi....If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite MXTX characters (top 5 from each novel)? And why? I'm sorry if you've answered this question before.

It’s absolutely no problem at all!! I don’t think I’ve been asked this before, but hey, I also have zero object permanence, so it keeps things fresh and new. And it’s interesting to see how my answers change over time! Lemme see, I think I’m going to go in reverse order, because I feel like then I’ll be doing the worst agonizing up front.

TGCF

Fifth favorite: YIN. YU. I know that he’s a minor character and him even making it onto the list is pretty solid performance, but I do feel guilty that he isn’t higher than this. He came out of nowhere in my first reading and punched me in the stomach with emotions. I find his sections so hard to read, and I was DEVASTATED when he died and BEYOND stoked to find out he was still alive in the extras. His story hurts so much! I am weak against characters who have relatively modest goals and still see them snatched away (see also: my next entry) and have to struggle on. I wish wish wish I had a way to see more of how he made his peace with things after being thrown out of heaven, and the nature of the (distant) relationship with Hua Cheng and what happens with Quan Yizhen now that he died in his arms, and still came back anyways, my god!

.

Fourth favorite:  He Xuannnnnn. I have a hard time articulating particulars, but. I love him a lot. I love a character with a grudge, with a deep, painful grudge, where the grudge is hurting him almost as much as it’s hurting the people around him, and setting the grudge aside would also hurt, and then what has any of this been for-- I've used this metaphor for other characters, but I don’t care if I’m overusing it, because I love it. He feels like a character caught in a thorn bush, where simply being there... hurts, but trying to escape or move in any ways is going to hurt worse, and there’s no path forward that doesn’t involve pain. And like... I don’t love the way he hurt Shi Qingxuan (who didn’t quite make this list adfasgdafsd I’M SORRY) but I wouldn’t have liked to see him swallow back down all that pain and set aside everything that happened to his family and fiancee either! I’m always, always soft for characters who have no good path forward and who grit their teeth and set out anyways.

.

Third favorite: MU QING!!!!!!!!!! I have done... extensive screaming about him. And I love him veryvery much. I can already tell that this list is going to have a lot of mean boys on it, and like... no regrets. Especially since this is one of my FAVORITE flavors, an unapologetic mean boy who is rarely (but sometimes!) soft for the people around him, and who regularly tries to do decently by people, but who consistently gets shat upon and misunderstood and accused of acting in bad faith. I screamed when he and Xie Lian finally got to talk their friendship out in the book. I also screamed when I realized how immediately after Xie Lian’s return he started looking out for him again, and how sincerely, despite his horrible attitude about it. I still want to write more fic for him so badly. I love him so much.

.

Second favorite: Xie Lian! What a good boy! The best boy! He’s so sweet and gentle, but also the best fightboy this world has ever seen, and also so gently snarky with the people he loves! I just... really love me some traumatized characters who have trouble recognizing that they can be Loved, and I’m not going to write this whole essay right now, but I think in some ways, he’s the most... passive about his romance, out of all the leads? Shen Qingqiu is aggressively oblivious, but Xie Lian kind of gently shrugs off the idea that he might be Hua Cheng’s special someone, until he finally gets hit with the cluestick. I generally shy away from the idea of a character “earning” love, but he’s maybe the mxtx character who moves me most with ‘you deserve to be loved’

.

Most favorite: Hua Cheng. HUA CHENG. Oh my god, gotta love this boy. Gotta love this devotion. I love a mean boy who is soft for one person, and he EMBODIES it. I mean, I love Shen Jiu, but he barely manages to do the soft thing at all, while Hua Cheng is over here like ‘if I could only be the stone beneath your feet--’ It’s hard to talk about him separately from Xie Lian, because they’re a unit in my head more than just about any other characters on this list are. I don’t want to get this list to get out of control, so I’m not going to scream for too long, but... I could just watch him go forever. I want to write him forever, and that’s a huge aspect of what draws me to some characters.

MDZS

Oh god, I think I lied, I think this book is going to be hardest. Making these choices is AGONIZING.

Fifth favorite: .....Lan Wangji. Oh god, I feel bad about how low he is. But this story is just packed SO full of wonderful characters, and I’m already consumed with guilt over all the characters who aren’t going to make it. I don’t love them less! But my love for characters in this particular story is very evenly distributed. And I think that Wang Yibo’s acting is possibly scoring points with me that the book might not have earned all by itself. Microexpressions and subtle body language add SO MUCH to a character with such flat affect, and I would be drawn to such a closed-off character anyways, but it really helps. And I love, like... the combined subtlety and intensity of his relationships. It’s not that subtle once you know what to look for, and the brother/sworn brother network makes for varying degrees of how much other characters understand of the things he chooses not to explicitly express, and it gives a really interesting character to the way he interacts with the people around him. Also, love me a man with intense separation anxiety.

.

Fourth favorite: Jiang Yanli? I think it has to be Jiang Yanli, but these rankings are hard. So. I just talked about how much I enjoy the flat affect and closed off nature of Lan Wangji? Well, guess what, I also love it when m’girl is just very GENUINELY AND OPENLY an absolute sweetheart of a person, and I love the contrast between her genuinely kind nature and the uncomfortable pressure that her family’s dynamics put on her to start parenting at a very young age. It’s not necessarily a happy situation, but she adores her brothers so much and they adore her so much! And it’s... a very understated element of the story, but after her parents died, her baby brothers went off to war, and one wreaked havoc as a straightforward commander and one of them disappeared for months and returned as a creepy-ass zombie puppeteer. And she STILL dotes on them like before, despite knowing what they’re capable of. Like, yes, Wei Wuxian just raised an army of corpses and forced a man to eat himself, but I shall still boop him on the nose and feed him Soup. How can I not adore energy like that?

.

Third favorite: Wei Wuxian, I think. I do adore him a lot. He gives me some of the same vibes that make me ache most with Xie Lian, where he is trying his best, and is struggling to hold on in the face of lots of suffering, and I find it really interesting that when the suffering peaked, Xie Lian was forced go on because he couldn’t die, while Wei Wuxian... expired. That line about ‘he thought that no matter how large the world was, there was still no place for him’ always sticks with me, and hurts me deeply. Xie Lian had most of his personal attachments stripped away, and was left to wander on his own, while Wei Wuxian still had a number of strong connections left, but abruptly exited life. And that informs their respective trauma so interestingly! The way Wei Wuxian bounces between high energy chaos and drained exhaustion is really fascinating to me, and was the thread that held me attached to the book through a very confusing beginning. And I’m still very drawn to how intensely he loves, whether it’s Xiao Zhan’s fantastic acting, or it’s him busting out with how much he wants Lan Wangji in the middle of the Guanyin Temple scene. He’s a fantastic character, honestly, I don’t think such a convoluted book would have held together very well without a protagonist this strong.

.

Second favorite: Xue Yang :X Look, he’s a good boy and I love him. Who among us hasn’t done a few mass murders that we are completely unrepentant about, but that we would really like to keep hidden from our current boyfriend, actually? Anyways, as always, love me an angry boy who makes terrible decisions for understandable reasons. And I do love a character who is consumed by agonized ragrets (see my next entry), but I DO also love me a character who has no regrets at all and doesn’t even have much interest in trying to justify himself to anyone else around him. Just look at that confidence! Look at him go!!

.

Most favorite: Jiang... Cheng....... I knew he and Xue Yang were going to be at the top, but those were the only parts of this list that were easy. I mean. Love a self-sabotaging angryboy who is also super super sad and keeps hurting himself in his own confusion. And while I love the romantic thread in all of the mxtx books, the agonized family thread in mdzs is one of my favorite parts, and something that I don’t really see echoed in any of the other stories. I need ten million jc+wwx reconciliations, at LEAST. He’s so sad! And so angry! And I want to see him becoming less of that thing, and for Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian to demonstrate very firmly how much they love him, because they do. I am invested in his happiness in a way that goes far and beyond any of the other non-main characters, haha

SVSSS

Fifth favorite: Tianlang-jun. I think? Oh god, but moshang. THIS IS REALLY HARD, I HATE THIS ;-; But especially since writing my fic, Tianlang-jun has really won me over. And like, he already hurt me good in the novel, just thinking about how he was an innocent young guy, just! Trying to have a girlfriend! And instead got trapped in sensory deprivation, body-rotting-hell for twenty years, when he didn’t do anything wrong!!! He suffered, so much! And I live for his intensely strained relationship with Luo Binghe, because it’s! Perfectly understandable and painful, from both of their perspectives! And he wants to hate humans so badly, but in the end, when he’s told that Su Xiyan never betrayed him, he starts helplessly asking the people around him, ‘really? is it really true?’ and then in the end he loses the only family member he has left who cares about him, and it’s just! Everything is terrible! I have a su xiyan au brewing in my head because I can’t stand it! Someone just give this man a loving partner!!!

.

Fourth favorite: Shen Qingqiu. But... moshang??? Goddammit. Anyways, this dumbass. I find him so endearing, in his dumbassery. I sometimes get a bit frustrated with Wei Wuxian for being oblivious, and Shen Qingqiu is just asking for me to react the same way, but I... don’t, for the most part? Because he thinks he has good information, and he’s slow to react to a changing playing field, and I still haven’t read another transmigration novel that strikes the same balance of hypercompetence and intense incompetence :ppp It’s a funny book, and he’s a funny character! And I really vibe with him, in most parts of the story, which covers a pretty darn wide emotional spectrum. Plus, the running internal commentary is choice.

.

Third favorite: Liu Qingge. Look, I’m a woman of simple needs, and sometimes I just need a high-quality fightboy who clearly cares deeply and is absolute garbage at expressing his emotions. I can’t articulate it much better than that. I absolutely howl at the succubus extra, when Shen Qingqiu is talking to Madam Meiyin about his future partner, and Liu Qingge is like ‘oh my god, sHE IS CLEARLY DESCRIBING ME’ and Shen Qingqiu is like ‘haha, liu-shidi, i thought you thought this was stuupidddddddd’. They’re both so dumb. I love them so much. But stupidity plus war god fighting energy has a narrow lead over stupidity and internal commentary track.

.

Second favorite: SHEN JIU. GOD. I’m still arguing with myself over whether he should go first, but Luo Binghe hurts me consistently through the whole entire story, so I think he wins. Shen Jiu just stabs me in the heart at strategic moments. This is it. My ideal mean boy who is soft for one (1) person, and who BOTH does unconscionable things for terrible reasons (someone just. give him a pile of girls to teach, it will be much more pleasant for everyone involved), and who ALSO gets blamed for things he didn’t do even when he tries to act in good faith. It is the best of all painful worlds. And even at the end, when he has a powerful person who wants desperately to protect him, he still tries his hardest to shove that person away, to keep him safe. I’ve got like four aus where he gets to live. I’m so invested in this character, I love him so much.

.

Most favorite: Luo Binghe. He was.... made for me............ Like, the overwhelming amounts of childhood angst were baked in by Shang Qinghua, but the in-story pain and suffering is PRECISELY my jam. I love a character with separation anxiety! I love a character with massive anxieties over being unwanted! Over nobody ever, EVER just choosing him! I love a character struggling with the idea that the person he loves most in the world thinks that he’s intrinsically Disgusting! I love the kind of stubborn determination that leads him to preserve a corpse for five years, desperately hoping for a way to revive it, constantly cooking fresh food, in case, in case he someday wakes up. The way Hua Cheng loves is overpowering, but he’s had time to like... learn to be mellow when he needs to be. Luo Binghe doesn’t have a chill bone in his body, and if he’s acting chill, it’s probably because he’s done some mental math and decided that being more clingy right now will probably get him pushed away harder. I love the combination of manipulative tendencies and a very, very genuine fear of rejection and being unwanted. There is nothing I don’t love about Luo Binghe, including his worst decisions. I love him so so much.

[7wanderingpaws]

Always, yours (4)

Word count: 5.5K

Warnings: language

tags: @geniusloey​ (let me know if you want to be added!)

Masterlist / story masterlist

<-- Previous - Next -->

Baekhyun blinked a couple of times, not taking notice of the baby cries gradually ceasing to quiet whimpers in the background.

“How can I help you?” he asked the stranger but before he could properly look into the stranger's eye, he saw the distraction in them. Baekhyun frowned, looking back over his shoulder to see you peeking out of the babies' room.

“I'm Lee Junho,” said your trainer, watching as Baekhyun turned back to face him. “I came to see your wife.”

“In what matter?” asked Baekhyun, confused and a little perplexed as to why was someone like him looking for you?

“She forgot-”

“Oh! Junho!” you came rushing down the corridor, holding the baby's head securely in your hold as you went to stand next to your husband, his arm somehow sneaking around your waist once you stood next to him. “What are you doing here?” you asked a little breathlessly, unsure about what to make of his sudden appearance at your house. You were very taken aback and a little worried. He was quite nosy, so him coming to your place didn't sit well with you. And now he was back at your door?

Baekhyun's arm unconsciously tightened around you, ignoring the baby in your arms completely, his hawk eye set on the strange man that you seemed to know and be even friendly with.

“You forgot your sweater at the gym on Thursday,” he told you and handed you a pretty gift bag, waiting for you to take it.

You frowned. “But I didn't-” you blinked a few times, trying to remember what was happening on Thursday besides you being an irresponsible mother. “I didn't change my clothes,” you murmured eventually, heat creeping up into your cheeks as you took the bag and had Baekhyun hold it. He took it with his free hand and let you peek inside, checking the piece.

When you still didn't recognize the clothing, you started to think you must have gone crazy. Maybe it was Baekhyun's shirt that you didn't recognize? How could you not, you were the laundry fairy in the house; you even knew each stain of every clothing in the household.

“Do you feel better?” asked you Junho, not waiting for your confirmation about the sweater. “You must have gone through a hard time on Thursday.”

You looked back at him, forgetting the sweater completely. “Eh, yeah, I was just fine,” you replied, absent-mindedly.

“Thank you for helping out my wife,” Baekhyun spoke up out of nowhere, probably observing the situation and putting two and two together. Junho was your trainer. 

Junho dragged his eyes back to Baekhyun, meeting his gaze rather intensely. “Well, she was very shaken up. I couldn't leave a beautiful woman by herself, could I?”

Your heart started to beat louder at the tone of Junho's voice and at the choice of his words. The way he said the word beautiful and let his gaze graze you for a second before returning it back to Baekhyun's stiff posture… He was thinking about you being beautiful the whole time? He seemed like he was challenging Baekhyun into an invisible fight and that was quite the surprise. In a way, it was also quite the challenge since Junho knew you were married, yet he dared to talk to your husband like that.

“Ah, it was alright-”

“Well, she was not alone,” rebutted Baekhyun, still calm. If he was angered by Junho's words, he didn't let it show, but it certainly did not sit well with him; the way he called you beautiful as if you were any woman. “She was with her good friend who would have taken great care of her.”

“I find it hard to believe; father not being present with the mother that has to take care of three kids.”

“Junho,” you spoke up in warning and, Baekhyun once again tightened his arm around you. You didn't understand what had gotten into the male.

“And your business into our family?” growled Baekhyun, slowly getting agitated. “I'm seeing you for the first time and I don't like you coming to our apartment just to bring a sweater that doesn't even belong to my wife,” he snapped angrily. “Whatever excuse it was that you needed for you to come here.”

“It isn't any of my business. But she is young and home alone for most of the days, and having to take care of all the matters by herself is difficult. You should take better responsibility and make sure she is fine.”

“Junho, what the hell?” you managed to snap as well, not liking how him and Baekhyun were talking as if you weren't present. Junhee was in her blissful obliviousness, her head in your breasts, magically always finding them.

“You're not the one I will tell how hard I try to make it all work,” said Baekhyun sharply and you were slowly getting a bad feeling about this. Goodness, don't let these two start a fight over a complete misunderstanding?

“Don't be ridiculous,” you told Junho, “all is fine. I don't need you to watch out for me nor my family.”

“I'm sorry, it was just so sad to see the empty apartment when we arrived.”

You felt like laughing in disbelief, especially when he pulled the puppy eyes at you. He looked incredibly cute and handsome but you could sense the sternness of his eyes when he shot a look at Baekhyun who went rigid at the word “we”.

“It was okay,” you repeated in a small murmur as you grew uncomfortable in the tense air. Baekhyun's hand left your waist.

“Thanks a lot for your concern,” added Baekhyun. “And thanks for the free sweater I guess.”

Just then, as if all the Gods were standing on your side in that moment, another baby started to cry, bringing the fruitless conversation to a halt.

Feeling Junhee’s mouth on your clothed breast, opening and closing around nothing in particular, you quickly shook your head. “I'll see you another time,” you said, wanting this to be over.

“Remember what you promised?” asked Junho after he nodded in understanding. “I'll wait for your message.” He looked at Baekhyun whose face became a complete rock. He was hard to read and, with anxiety bubbling in your tummy, you tried to rake your brain over the last time you saw him like that.

“Good luck. Take care of your wife or someone else will.” And he turned around, not bothering to go down with the elevator, instead taking the staircase.

You exhaled a small breath of relief, your body deflating before giving Baekhyun's profile a wary glance. “Honey-”

“I'll start preparing lunch,” he muttered to you quietly and he closed the door. Without looking at you, he turned and disappeared in the kitchen, leaving you with Junhee in your arms and a crybaby to take care of.

<3

You were changing Juna's diaper when Baekhyun reappeared in the doorway to the babies' room. The little nursery corner was right by the door, so he just leaned against the doorframe, his hands pushed into the pockets of his joggers as he watched with a frown how your hands worked, not even noticing Juna's smiley eyes looking up at you when you blew a raspberry against her baby tummy.

He spoke your name slowly, bringing your attention to him. At once, you looked up expectantly. The way he was acting a little distant made you somehow disconnected from him and that was something you never wanted to experience. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” you breathed, too fast. “I’ll just finish this-” you skillfully fastened the nappy around Juna's tummy before dressing her into a cute one piece. Since you knew Baekhyun wanted to have a serious talk, you put Juna back to her crib, hoping the triplets would be okay without a little attention from the both of you for a bit.

Baekhyun waited for you and then you walked to the living room, ending up on the couch, sitting down; Baekhyun was facing the front while you were sitting sideways, wanting to see him well.

“Tell me what's on your mind,” you requested softly, reaching out to caress his shoulder. You didn't think he would become a little cold but he came to talk to you. So you wanted to listen. 

He looked at you when he felt the touch, his eyes softening when he saw the way you were looking at him. “I know you must be shocked at what Junho said and, trust me, I am too.”

“I don't like him,” he said matter-of-factly. “And, sweetheart, he obviously doesn't consider you just as a customer.”

You pursed your lips. “I've been only twice there.”

“And yet, you managed to blow him off his feet,” he said, somehow teasingly, making you giggle. “Which I don't like,” he added, his small smile diminishing and with it yours too. “What did he mean with the promise?”

You clicked your tongue. “It's nothing.”

He quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at your simple, but non-satisfying answer. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I mean it, Baekhyun,” you shrugged, “I just said I'll contact him once I'm ready to start over.”

“You won't start over. At least not with him and not in his gym.”

“But Sukyeong is going-”

“No,” Baekhyun said strictly, his eyes piercing through you. “I don't want you to go to that gym anymore.”

“Why? Just because he is caring?”

At that, Baekhyun pulled away from you in disbelief as he faced you on the sofa. “Caring? You're joking, right? He likes you.”

“Just because someone calls someone beautiful doesn't mean they have a crush on them,” you rebuked, getting furious quite quickly. You didn't like the way he told you what to do. You didn't like the tone of his voice and neither did you appreciate he could do whatever he wanted just because he was your husband. 

Baekhyun was observing you with a very serious expression, not entertained by your answer. A small storm was visible in his dark, cloudy eyes and you felt like you said something very wrong. Wordlessly, he was taking in your countenance as if calculating you and whatever it was that went through your mind that he couldn't seem to decode. “It's not like that, sweetheart,” he told you finally. “The way he looked at you-- no” he stopped himself, hating even the idea. “You won't be meeting him again. He is a creep!”

“You're jealous,” you stated the very obvious. “You just don't like that someone actually finds me pretty?”

“What?”

You dared to push out your chin. “You heard me. Someone else is interested in me so now you are trying to pull me back to hide me?”

Stunned, Baekhyun let himself rest against the couch, his eyes almost drying out as he wasn’t blinking. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, but I don’t like how you’re acting, Baekhyun! I feel flattered that he thinks of me as someone pretty - after all, look at the way I changed! I’m only twenty-two but I lost my lean body and my hormones are going crazy… you know you don’t have a reason to be jealous but for once someone shows interest and you want to hide me!”

“You’re my wife!” He raised his voice as well, but still kept it in an acceptable tone. You didn’t hear how your words sounded in Baekhyun’s mind who understood them in a completely wrong manner than that of your intention. You were a taken woman, why was another man’s opinion important to you? His words should be the only words you deemed important. “What makes you think I like another man ogling at you? Had I known that kind of a man is teaching you I wouldn’t have let you go! You even found him hot, too - you admitted it,” he added in a menacing tone, his eyes shining with anger.

Baekhyun wasn’t jealous often, that was true. He was a man who could keep it together and mostly, if he caught another guy staring at you, he’d feel pride because you were always his. Ever since you entered womanhood you were his. But now, the way your trainer just pushed himself into your private life and knew too much, he didn’t like it one bit.

“I was trying to tease you!” You snapped loudly. “Because you’re so busy with working that I just wanted some attention from you! I only ever want your eyes on me, not another man’s!” You inhaled, feeling your eyes burning up. “And yes, it feels nice to be appreciated by someone else. You have women staring at you whenever we as much as go grocery shopping and it makes me feel so stupid. You’re dressing up to impress your students, Baekhyun, and if you think all your lady students are innocently looking at you, you’re wrong. And I trusted you with Jiyoung-“

“I never gave you a reason to doubt me with Jiyoung,” growled Baekhyun through gritted teeth but you didn’t cower. You had a lot to say out of nowhere.

“I don’t care. You were busy with her enough. I met Junho twice and he got overly attached. That isn’t my fault and you shouldn’t be punishing me for that!”

“I’m not punishing you, I’m worried about you,” he emphasized, growing frustrated at your attitude. “You were very fast to jump to ridiculous conclusions when you first saw Jiyoung yet I never said anything to attack you! And I don’t care what my students think about me! One thing is to have a crush, another is to actually talk with someone who likes you and even make stupid promises to them and giving them false hopes!”

“I didn’t promise him anything, Baekhyun, I just said-“

“-that you’ll see him soon!” he shouted, now fully angry. 

“You wouldn’t be like this if you trusted me!”

“We ended up at a fucking hospital because you were so fucking jealous of me having a female colleague! Talk about trust now, huh?!”

That one hit you. His sharp words, that were specifically crafted against you, hurt you. Surely, he didn’t mean it but he said it and he used your weak pregnancy state against you in an inappropriate manner.

“Right. And I suffered through eight months of painful pregnancy because I fucked myself, right?!” you spit and stood up, storming away from him.

“Come back here, young lady! Right now!” You heard Baekhyun stand up as well, his hands on his hips as he saw your retreating figure. You rarely swore, so he understood the situation was bad.

But you didn’t listen. Without realizing, you ran into your shared bedroom and started stripping, wanting to get out of the house. You were infuriated at the argument when you already told him everything before Junho’s unexpected visit. He wasn’t supposed to be getting mad about something out of your control.

Quickly putting on a light summer dress, you tied your hair up and headed out with your small purse and wallet.

Baekhyun saw you pass him, headed for the door and he followed you right away. “Where are you going?! It’s hot outside and I’m not done talking to you!”

“I’m done talking to you!” you seethed as you put on your sandals. “You take care of the babies. It wasn’t because of them I ended up in the hospital, so you shouldn’t be mad at them for giving me a hard time. Blame the friggin jealousy or whatever!”

With that you turned, opening the door. You heard Baekhyun’s exasperated exhale before the door slammed shut.

</3

You went for a short walk before the heat, combined with suffocating humidity, chased you into a cafe, seeking refuge in their air-conditioned, cozy space. You weren’t drinking coffee for obvious reasons but you needed a little kick and iced americano was the cheapest option for your wallet. With a defeated, heavy sigh, you ordered the coffee, pleasantly surprised when the kind bartender gave you a small cookie as a gift to your beverage. You must have looked like death if someone a little younger than you could recognize your emotions mirroring on your face.

You thought Baekhyun would be bombarding you with messages like he started to do since the birth of the munchkins but he wasn’t. He was overly worried about your whereabouts when you were with the triplets. Maybe now he was trying to give you space like you indirectly asked for.

At least you could think over what happened. You still felt hurt and, frankly, you were still ignited with passion about him being jealous. He didn’t like someone else telling you you were pretty. You could understand, of course you could. But him wanting to prevent you from going back to the gym was just annoying.

Your whole life Baekhyun was the only one you had eyes for. He was fast to try to pursue you; it was a mutual crush, a mutual attraction later on. You never got to experience other boys or men, you never even had a kiss with someone else. Baekhyun had you completely to himself since you were an old enough of a teenager and, honestly, he didn’t have to fight for you. It wasn’t like you had competition going on around you. There were a lot of crazy moments but he knew he could get you, and he did. So now, when someone else showed interest, it was a little foreign to you and to him, too. That was the point you didn’t like. He wasn’t used to having to fight for you. He wasn’t used to having to prove himself to you because you were that simple of a girl and now a woman. Baekhyun was Baekhyun and that was an argument no other boy could ever win over. Ever.

Suddenly, you felt like crying. Baekhyun was taking you for granted. Maybe you were too comfortable too and didn’t realize how easily your life could change if he weren’t by your side. But you still burned with anger when he wouldn’t trust you and would want to hide you, tuck away from curious eyes because you tried to get back on the normal track after being pregnant and so busy with triplets.

He had it easy, you thought bitterly as you swallowed an equally bitter sip of americano. He still had his too-perfect body. He could still continue his professional life. He was never sacked for being a woman that was soon to be a mother. He was never harassed at work for his gender. And yet, when you finally could taste a bit of life, he’d want to take it away.

You scoffed out loud, unaware of other customers giving you a worried look as you gulped down the coffee. Unfortunately, your little time to think had to come to a quick and very disappointing end. The pressure was there for a while now and you were irresponsible enough to ignore it but you definitely couldn’t afford that anymore. Wetness was slowly making its way in your bra, the textile too thin and therefore quickly leaking to your summer dress. Soon enough, it would start dripping.

Unhappily groaning to yourself, you quickly went to the bathroom, unable to make a dash for your home because you walked quite off your neighbourhood. You’d need at least ten minutes and when the breast milk was leaking, we were talking about seconds.

Following the typical process, you yanked down your shirt along with your bra, letting the strong stream spring free, painting the surroundings white. With a scrunched up face, you could only look and wait.

</3

You came home more than two hours later. Tears staining your cheeks, you were exhausted and tired. An old lady shouted at you for keeping the toilet busy and then you had to ask for help from the staff, hoping they would borrow you a shirt to cover up until you got home, your dress completely ruined. This Saturday sucked in every possible way. And now you had to face Baekhyun. You already decided you would ignore him but you were also dreading the duty of tending to your little ones. You really couldn’t do it. Not in that moment, and not in that emotional state.

The apartment was quiet and the blinders were let down half-way to block out the strong summer sun heating up the place. You peeked in the babies’ room, just to find it empty. Sighing, your nose prickled again and you locked yourself up in the guest bathroom, desperately needing a shower. Baekhyun must have taken the kids out, you thought.

Scrubbing your skin clean, you were only satisfied when the shampoo would completely take over your senses. With tears rolling down your cheeks, you did small massaging circles into the stretch marks painting your breasts, tummy, backside, and thighs. Maybe if you tried hard enough, they’d disappear. You tried hard enough during pregnancy.

Finally, you turned the water off and brought a clean towel around your body, feeling a little better. Your eyes were swollen, that couldn’t have been helped.

You trudged around the apartment, finding everything motionless and quiet until you looked into the bedroom, finally spotting your precious family on the bed, each of them peacefully sleeping. Baekhyun had his back to the door and he made a little barrier around the babies so if they wanted to explore some new body movements they wouldn’t fall.

You didn’t know how he managed it when you felt like everything was a mess when you were with them alone. You left for more than two hours and he seemed like he barely broke a sweat.

You contemplated your next moves; should you wake him? You needed a change of clothes anyway.

Tiptoeing inside, you went to the walk-in closet, finding a clean, nursing shirt before you slid into it and left the small space. Baekhyun was fast to turn his head, his eyes looking wide-awake as if he never slept in the first place.

He saw your puffy cheeks and swollen eyes and it tugged on his heart. “Sweetheart,” he whispered almost inaudibly, reaching his hand out to you.

You were looking at him and at his outstretched hand, the ring on it shining.

I’m sorry, you wanted to say. Let’s not fight, you wanted to add. But his hurtful words came back to you, and you realized that it really wasn’t your place to apologize. It wasn’t your place to apologize about failing as a mother, either. It was only natural that you made mistakes. It was situations like those that made you realize quite a difficult reality: nobody knew what they were doing as parents. Your own parents never knew what they were doing. Baekhyun’s parents never knew what they were doing; something went right and something went wrong. You were allowed to make mistakes; as long as you learned from them.

Baekhyun saw your troubled eyes and he slowly sat up, eventually moving to stand in front of you. “I’m sorry,” he breathed quietly, his eyebrows scrunching up in worry when you kept staring at him, wordlessly.

You licked your dry lips, averting your gaze. “Let’s talk outside,” you murmured and walked over to the door. You quickly checked whether the babies were still sleeping and whether the barrier was strong enough and you left, not waiting for Baekhyun who grabbed the baby monitor.

Taking a glass, you filled it with water, needing the liquid in your parched mouth. Anxiety was eating you up and you were exhausted. You hoped Baekhyun would say the right words, for you couldn’t bear another fight.

“I’m sorry,” he said as soon as he reappeared, going straight to you. He held your waist gently while his free hand put the monitor down on the counter. He was quick to hold you with his other hand as well. “I was mad. I am still mad,” he said, desperately searching your gaze. “I’m not sorry for being jealous because I can’t bear the idea of another man looking at you the way he did and the way only I am allowed to look. But I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you and I’m sorry for making you feel like a caged woman and mother. It shouldn’t be like that and I told you several times that I’d never want you to become one but-“ he sighed, shaking his head gently as he looked on the floor before bringing his eyes back up to yours, “I unconsciously made it like that and I feel guilty.”

If you were an anime character, huge, diamond-like tears would be brimming your eyes, making you look incredibly cute but also incredibly heart-broken. Baekhyun apologized and admitted to his wrong doings and it made you relieved.

“Baby, say something,” he urged you breathily and brought his hand up to your cheeks. You were wordlessly staring at him with bulging eyes and he was growing anxious with each second.

“Please don’t talk like that anymore,” you finally whispered after trying to control the lump in your throat. “You know I tried my best while being pregnant and that one time-“

“Shh, shh, no, don’t talk about it,” he said quietly with urgency in his voice. He shook his head as he spoke. “That was the stupidest shit I’ve ever said and I’m sorry. Completely uncalled for… I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He pressed his forehead against yours, letting his eyes close.

You breathed out and finally let your hands rest on his sides, feeling his ribs underneath. Following him, you closed your eyes as well. “It hurt.”

“I know,” he whispered as he nuzzled his nose against yours, eyes still closed. “I’m such a fucking dumbass. You suffered so much because of me; I made you pregnant and I made you go through hell and… Shit, I’m sorry.” When he talked like that, with his breath on your lips and the tip of his nose brushing against yours, you couldn’t help but melt, gradually forgetting every bad and unexpected thing that happened. Instead, you breathed in his gentle scent and enjoyed his close proximity. His thumbs brushed under your eyes and just then you realized the tears were rolling down your cheeks and his hands. “Jesus, if I make you cry any more I swear I’ll never forgive myself,” murmured Baekhyun against your lips and you opened your eyes just to find him staring intently at you, his eyes scrunched in worry, much more puppy-like then they usually were. He slid his hand over your cheek and ear until he rested it on the back of your head, bringing you into a sensual hug. He was fast to hide his face in the crook of your neck and you pressed your forehead against his shoulder.

You stood like that for a few minutes, until Baekhyun was sure you calmed down. “Thank you for giving me space.”

“Of course. Just don’t leave like that next time,” he muttered in your ear. “I was worried and it’s hot outside and-“ he was fast to pull away from you, holding you by your upper arms. “What about your breast milk? You didn’t even pump…” he trailed off when he saw how your face fell. Shaking your head, you were hoping it would tell him just enough, the memory of the elderly lady scolding you bringing a fresh set of tears into your eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed with pity, once again embracing you, this time more tightly, wanting to console you. Baekhyun knew how sensitive you could get. It must have been an unpleasant situation. “You go through so much shit and yet I only make it worse.”

“No!” This time, you pulled away. “It isn’t like that Baekhyun. You’re a new professor, it’s not like you can do as you please. And,” you shrugged, “I’m glad you care enough to be jealous.”

“What kind of expression is that?” Baekhyun looked puzzled as he wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, eventually brushing your hair behind your ear while you shrugged again. “I always care. If it’s you, I’m always interested and I always want to know. I always want to protect you. Junho is a guy and I know how guys are, baby.”

“I just… don’t want you to take me for granted.”

Baekhyun gasped, horrified, somehow making him look surprised. “No, no, I would never-“ he stopped himself, hurt and guilt flashing in his eyes. “Have I made you feel that way?”

“No, but…”

“But?”

With a sigh, you shook your head. “It’s not important. Actually it’s stupid. Forget that I said it.”

“No, explain-“

Baby whimpers interrupted your discussion and, for some reason, you felt relieved. With a small smile, you stepped back from him. “Not important.”

“Sweetheart,” his arms chased after you and he grabbed you just in time before you could completely walk out of his personal space. The whimpers were gradually increasing and changing into dissatisfied cries. Baekhyun didn’t care though and he brought you back to him, pecking you on the lips. “I want to finish this talk later.” His hand sneaked around your lower back, his hand sliding over your bum, unintentionally bringing fire into your insides.

“Okay,” you whispered bewitched as you watched his parted lips.

He hummed and kissed you longer, his hand caressing your bum cheek. With a smooch, he separated. “Okay.”

<3

As usual, the both of you got preoccupied with the daily tasks. You spend hours breastfeeding while Baekhyun prepared food for the both of you, not having enough time to chat like he really wanted to.

He was mad about the way you felt and he was mad about himself. What did he do that wrong that you had such thoughts? If Junho and his liking towards you made you feel that way…

He shook his head as he was checking his phone, not really processing what he was looking at; an important email that needed his immediate tending, yet he couldn't bring himself to focus. When you appeared from the bathroom, only in a shirt, he let his eyes roam over your body, and then up to your messy hair and tired, but still beautiful face.

It was simple moments like these when he just craved you. He tried to suppress it, but the happenings of the day had him thinking a little differently and he was going crazy at the idea of Junho even thinking he had a chance with you. Of course he didn’t. You were married, for Christ’s sake. You were his, completely.

You slipped under the covers, sighing a little, satisfied. The temperature of the room was just perfect to have the shirt on and still be warm enough under the sheets. With eyes wide open you turned on your side, facing Baekhyun like an eager kitty. Baekhyun, sensing your intense stare, looked at you, the phone screen now dark from the inactivity and he smiled handsomely.

“Come cuddle,” you requested, inching your hand to his thigh under the covers. “Let’s enjoy the small peace.”

Baekhyun didn’t have to be told twice especially because it was coming from you. He put his phone on the bedside table and turned off the light, quickly turning to you.

You scooted over a bit too fast, just as Baekhyun was about to rest his head on the pillow; your lips brushed and you gasped, giggling.

“Just say you want a kiss,” murmured Baekhyun with a teasing tone, his own hand now resting on your hip. “I’d give you one anyway,” he added and dipped his head, pecking you repeatedly a few times. He grinned when he heard your silent squeal but you reciprocated each of his loving kisses. “Mmm, my baby.” His hand tightened as it inched further up, sensually caressing your ribs and the side of your breast, bunching up your shirt in the process. It had your breath hitch in your throat and desire grew in your tummy at once. Ever since you made up in the kitchen and his simple caress on your backside ignited passion in you, you couldn’t stop thinking about the moment you could share a little love with him. You couldn't get him out of your mind. Not while breastfeeding and watching him cook with his wide back turned towards you, not while washing the munchkins in the bathroom, both of you wet but smiley, and not now, when he was there, right next to you.

“Baekhyun,” you breathed, affected already. His hum made the hair on your neck stand. Your hand was on his cheek as your lips brushed against his. “Make love to me tonight.”

His caressing stopped only for a heartbeat before it resumed, not showing the way your gently uttered words affected him. “Hm, baby, if I do, I will be rough.” He rasped in a low voice. “I just don’t think I can control myself tonight, angel. Not after what happened.”

At that, your palms became sweaty and you eagerly scooted even closer, wanting to press your middle to his. “Then show me what you have in mind.”

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

A/N: sorry, Im cutting it here because the next chapter will have mature content and I want to separate it from the chapters that have development so that those of you who are uncomfortable with M wont miss out :S hope thats okay! Also, if you read Mess We Made and see some similarities - there are. After all, Mess We Made is a super angsty au of Simply Yours. ^^

Lastly, the angst is far from over lol. There angsty days are coming. ^^ and the last “lastly”, Always Yours will have most probably more chapters than I intended. Depends on how much Ill manage to write and squeeze into chapters during my semester. Thank you ^^

[nerdyfangirl67]

Through the Night - Criminal Minds Imagine

Pairing: Hotch x reader

Warning: language, intense torture, inflicted pain, violence, anxiety, 

Word count: 2,300

Imagine being taken by an unsub and Hotch finding you and not wanting to leave your side.

You weren’t really sure if you were conscious or not. The lack of sight and sound made you believe not, but the intense pain coursing through your body told you otherwise. Your thoughts were fuzzy, making it hard to think. You tried several times to get up but something was holding you down. And you could easily feel the gag in your mouth, preventing you from making any sound.

Nothing. Nothing happened for a long time. The inability to use most of your senses was preventing you from figuring out anything about where you were. After experiencing intense feelings of anger, fear, and frustration, all you felt now was tired.

You may have fallen asleep because you were jerked out of your sensory deprivation by a sudden light. Pain erupted in your head and you blinked your eyes closed at the searing, white intensity.

A hand hit your face, hard. “Open your damn eyes.” The voice was deep and gravelly.

You forced your eyes open and you took in the man before you. It was definitely the unsub of the case you and the team were working. His brown eyes, unfocused and crazed, were studying you. His black hair was unkempt and he was sporting a beard, albeit one only a few days old. He smiled at you, a wild gleam in his eyes as he removed your gag.

“Tell me about your team.” He demanded forcibly. You remained silent, refusing to share anything about those you considered your family. He slapped you again, causing your head to spin and fog up your thoughts. You clenched your jaw tight and said nothing. You were going to suppress the pain for as long as possible, to keep from giving the unsub the satisfaction of hearing you scream.

“Okay, if that is how you want to play it. I sure have a few tools I have been wanting to try out.” He disappeared out of sight. You used that moment to try and remember what happened and if your team knew where you were. Try as you may, you couldn’t recall much of anything.

The unsub, whose name was John or James or something fairly similar, strolled easily back into the room, carrying a large toolbox with him. You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to watch as he pulled out the tool that would undoubtedly inflict a lot of pain on you.

“Last chance missy. You could save yourself a lot of pain.” He said sadistically.

You opened your mouth as if to speak, waiting for him to lean in before spitting in his face. His features were quickly marred as signs of intense anger overtook his face.

He grabbed a pair of needle-nose pliers, moving quickly towards your hand. You tightened your hand up in a fist but swiftly relaxed it as he slammed the pliers down on your hand. You closed your eyes and turned your head away. A horrific, burning pain exploded from your fingers. You didn’t have to see what he was doing to know he was violently removing your fingernails. It wasn’t long before you were screaming out in pain.

He didn’t stop there though. He replaced his pliers with a new tool, one you quickly learned was a hammer, and turned his attention to your other hand. He put the time in making sure that each of your fingers was broken before bringing the hammer down hard on the back of your hand.

You passed out from the pain shortly after that, drifting in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he would bring you back with a bucket of cold water thrown in your face and others he would leave you be. Each time he demanded the same thing, “Tell me about your team.” You never said a word, the only vocalization you made were the screams of agony and whimpers of pain.

You couldn’t guess how long you had been there, tied to a chair, but you knew it wouldn’t be much longer. Either the team would find you or you would die, simple as that.

You didn’t have much left in you to fight and the only thing keeping you from giving up was the fact that you never told Aaron how you felt about him. After years of loving him silently, you had been ready to tell him. And you didn’t want to go, not knowing if there had been a future for the two of you.

A commotion sounded upstairs, followed quickly by a gunshot. Fear took hold and you tried desperately to free yourself of the gag in your mouth, the one the unsub replaced every time he finished with you. You were unsuccessful in your attempts to remove it and knew that all you could do was wait.

Heavy black boots appeared on the steps, followed quickly by a pair of jean-clad legs, a muscular torso, and finally a face. You cried out, as best you could, in relief and exhaustion when you saw it was Morgan. He was followed by Reid and Rossi. Morgan continued to clear the room, a basement of some sort, as Reid and Rossi moved straight towards you. You relaxed just knowing it was them.

They quickly removed the gag and restraints; the entire time Reid spoke softly to you. Morgan, who had moved over to you, must have sensed your fatigue and pain because he gently said “Baby girl, I’m gonna pick you up” before slowly sweeping you into his arms. Pain exploded from many different places in your body and you were unable to suppress a cry.

You don’t remember much after that. A short moment in the ambulance of a familiar face leaning towards you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, a brief flash of being surrounded by doctors in a bright room, and then darkness.

The darkness was soothing, gentle, and quiet. You were comfortable staying there for a long time. It was only when a nagging sound and returning feelings in your body overtook the sweet darkness that you realized you were indeed alive. Several times you had been aware of your surroundings, of JJ talking rapidly on the phone, of Reid reading out loud, of Morgan chattering loudly, of Garcia telling you all about her day, but most importantly of Aaron talking, telling you about little, unimportant things and about how sorry he was.

Finally, after what felt like ages, you were able to pull yourself away from the darkness. It was quiet and the only thing you felt was someone holding your hand. You opened your eyes and was greeted with semi-darkness. You turned slightly to the right and noticed Aaron was holding your hand. He was leaning back in one of the hospital chairs, legs sprawled out in front of him and head resting in a very uncomfortable looking position.

“Aaron?” You croaked, unsure if he was asleep or not. Not a second after you had pathetically uttered his name, was he up and leaning towards you.

His face lit up with a smile, seeing you were awake. He grabbed a cup that had been sitting beside the bed and helped you hold the cup as you greedily drank the water.

“How’s your pain?” Aaron asked after you had settled back down into the pillows.

“I’ve definitely felt better, that’s for sure.” You whispered, already tired from the effort it had taken to get a drink.

Aaron immediately pressed the call button and a nurse ran in, checking your IV and administering some pain meds before flitting back out of the room. Soon you were pulled back into your drugged darkness.

Days passed in a similar fashion. Most of the time Aaron was at your side. There were a few times that Morgan or Rossi had been beside you when you had awakened. Eventually, you found out the extent of your injuries, but not from Aaron. He had refused to tell you anything about the unsub that had taken you or what they could piece together about what happened.

You learned that you had some brain swelling, bad enough that it required surgery. One of your hand was so badly broken that it needed reconstructive surgery once the swelling receded, you had a few broken ribs and there were even a few burns littering your body. Aside from these injuries, your body was also covered in bruises and welts.

You had trouble sleeping, which led to Aaron spending many a night in the uncomfortable hospital chair, gripping your hand and talking to you. There were even times when you just laid in the hospital bed, listening to Aaron talk.

It was a month before the hospital felt that you were well enough to leave, but they strongly suggested you stay with someone for another month at least. This bit of information threw you for a loop because you were alone in DC. Both your parents had passed years ago and the only living relative you knew of, an aunt in California, was in a retirement facility.

Each one of the team members jumped at the chance to stay with you. Penelope was thrilled at the idea of having a month-long sleepover, Reid wanted to “educate you” in the ways of Star Trek and classic literature, Rossi wanted to use you a guinea pig for his recipes, and Morgan wanted someone who would jam to his beats, and maybe even play a video game or two with him. Seeing how excited the team was to be there for you made your heart squeeze painfully at the thought of how close you had gotten to losing them.

You couldn’t say no to any of them and was ready to just suggest a rotating schedule when Aaron spoke up. “She is staying with me.” He said it with such finality that no one questioned him. You had looked at him questioningly but hadn’t argued.

It was less than an hour later that you found yourself staring at the front door to Aaron’s apartment.

“Are you sure you want me in your space? I mean, I’m sure Penelope would be fine with staying over.” You really doubted that Aaron would feel comfortable with you in his private space. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He replied, staring deep into your Y/E/C eyes. You felt a blush bloom on your face, and had glanced down at your feet in embarrassment.

A hand tilted your face up again. “Really Y/N. I want you here.” He spoke softly, a thumb gently moving back and forth along your jaw.

The door flew open, and Aaron jerked his hand away from your face. Jack stood in front of you both, beaming up at you.

“Hi Y/N. I’m so excited you are here. Want to come to see my legos?” His brimming excitement pulled a laugh from your chest. You walked with Jack to his room, letting him tell you all about his legos.

The rest of the day passed swiftly after that. Aaron had shown you to his guest room and had helped you put away some of your things. You hadn’t worried about sleep until you had gone to your bedroom for the evening.

Once you were alone, laying on your bed, you felt crushing anxiety grip your chest. You had left the lamp on alongside your bed but was freaked out enough to carry a blanket and pillow away from the bed, which was alongside the window, to the other side of the room. You couldn’t remember much of what happened, for that you were grateful, but being alone since leaving the hospital had become something you dreaded. You knew Aaron would help you if you asked but he had already been with you through so much, giving up much of his time to be with you. You tried to get comfortable and even fell into a fitful sleep. You were awoken a while later to hand on your shoulder, to which you screamed and kicked forward repeatedly.

Aaron’s soothing voice reached your ears. “Hey, hey. It’s just me, Aaron. You’re okay Y/N. You’re okay.” You took a deep breath, your wide eyes finding Aaron’s. A whimper escaped your lips and Aaron was pulling you into a hug. You let go, crying into his shoulder as he whispered into your ear.

After a while you managed to calm down, taking a deep breath and leaning back from Aaron’s chest. “I’m sorry.” You murmured, your gaze now on your lap. Aaron gently guided your face until you were looking at him again.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He whispered. “I came in here because you sounded upset like you were having a nightmare.” “Aaron, I…” You paused trying to find the words, looking deep into his warm brown eyes. “I want to thank you for everything you have done for me.” He started to speak but you placed a soft finger over his lips.

“I don’t remember much about what happened, but I do remember that the only thing that kept me going, when I felt like giving up, was knowing that I needed to come back to you. I needed to tell you… I needed to tell you that I love you.” You had somehow found the courage to tell him the secret you had been keeping for months, years even.

You watched as shock crossed his face, and then happiness take over. He pulled you close again, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I love you too Y/N. I love you too.”

You knew you had a long way to go before you ever felt normal again, but knowing that Aaron would be by your side through it all made you believe you could do it.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

White Lie

note: this plot entered my head and refused to leave, so here we go. Enjoy

words: 2.7 k

warning: swearing, smut (unprotected sex)

“Bliss!” you thought, taking in the unique smell of the bookstore. The last few weeks had been crazy, work keeping you on your toes even on the weekends. This was your first free day in over a month, and what was better than spending it at your favorite place in town.

You loved aimlessly browsing the dozens of shelves for something new to read, your favorite pastime since childhood. You were still contemplating about the kind of lecture you were looking for when a bright red book spine caught your attention. You had always been a person who could be easily attracted by a pretty, colorful cover, so your hand instinctively surged forward to grab the book out of the shelf. But before you could get a hold on it, another hand got in your way, blocking yours and snatching the volume right under your nose.

You were about to complain to whoever had the audacity to get between you and a book, when you looked up at the stranger.

“He’s so tall.” Was the first thing that came to your mind, followed almost instantly by “And hot.” You could feel yourself starting to get slightly flustered, your initial anger forgotten.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone else besides me could be that interested in the medias influence on the US’s political relationship with China.” The stranger said. He had a smooth, deep voice, the kind of voice you could easily imagine yourself listing to for hours. You stared at him, your usually quick brain a bit overwhelmed with your body’s visceral reaction to the mans presence .

“Political relationship with China?” you repeated, confused and sounding like the biggest idiot ever to your own ears.

“Yes, because that’s what this is about.” The man turned the book around so you could look at the cover. “You’re aware that you’re in the politics section?” He added, slower, like he was talking to a child.

You tried to collect yourself, you usually prided yourself on your quick-wittedness and you didn’t like how nervous this stranger was making you at all. You didn’t know what it was about him, maybe his imposing figure or his intense gaze, but he was intimidating.

“Oh, yes, I was searching for a similar looking book.” You lied quickly. “My mistake.”

Turning around to another shelf with some new arrivals, you grabbed the first red-spined book that caught your eyes.

“Here. That’s the one I actually want.” You replied, showing the random book to the man. He mustered the cover and a small smirk settled over his face.

“The Hellfire Club, huh? You’re a fan of political thrillers?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Of course, huge fan. I’ve read all of the authors works, been really looking forward to this one. I heard it’s set in New York.” In reality, you didn’t have the slightest clue what this book was about, and even less why you were lying to this random guy about it. Did you just want him off your back, or did you want to impress him, engage him in conversation? He was fascinating and for some reason you felt like this conversation was spinning a bit out of your control.

The man raised his eyebrows at you, looking like he could sense your nervousness.

“It’s a decent book, I guess. But I heard the author is a real prick.” He gave you an almost conspiratorial wink. “I have to go now, but enjoy it. New York is definitely a fascinating city.” He turned around and left in the direction of the checkout.

You opened the book, looking inside to find out who this guy was having such a low opinion about. There was a small picture of the author in there, and as you studied it you felt like you might get sick.

It was the stranger from moments before. Jake Tapper. You had lied to Jake Tapper. You groaned internally, why the hell hadn’t you recognize him?

Yes, you didn’t watch his shows, too little time. But he was something like a celebrity, and you blatantly told him absolute bullshit about his own book in an attempt to appear cleverer than you were. How had this guy been able to unsettle you that way?

“The damn Capitol is literally on the cover, you idiot.” You whispered to yourself, absolutely mortified. You had to go after him and clear this up or you would never rest again.

But as your eyes scanned the bookstore, he was already making his way out, disappearing onto the crowded street.

+++

Two weeks later, you still couldn’t think about the encounter without being totally embarrassed. You had bought the book, and of course it wasn’t set in New York. But it was a fascinating read, you weren’t able to put it away for the whole weekend, finishing it only three days after you purchased it.

At the same time, you weren’t able to stop thinking about Jake Tapper either. Even in the brief moment you shared with him, he had managed to leave a lasting expression, and your thoughts were circling around his dark eyes and deep voice more often than you’d care to admit.

The sound of an incoming email disturbed your thoughts, and as you checked, it your heart did a little jump in your chest. It was the newsletter from your favorite bookstore, announcing an event with no one else than Jake Tapper himself, signing copies of his latest political thriller The Hellfire Club.

Without even thinking about it twice, you signed yourself up for the event. You had to see him again, try to explain yourself and get some closure about the situation, or those thoughts of him would probably haunt you forever.

+++

You’ve been anxiously waiting in line for thirty minutes now, and finally it was your turn. As soon as the man’s eyes landed on you, he raised his eyebrows and a smug smile settled over his face

“And so, we meet again. I sincerely hope the lack of New York content wasn’t too much of a disappointment.”

So he remembered you. Great.

“Ok, I deserve that.” You murmured, embarrassed by the whole situation. You started to regret even coming here, but now you had to get it over with.

“I just came to, well, apologize, I guess. And prove that I’m not an idiot.” Why were you blabbering like that? This man’s scrutiny made you so nervous, his attentive gaze was fixed on you while you were struggling to explain the situation.

“I loved the book, by the way, great style and the storyline was very captivating. Even without New York.” You added, a weak attempt at a joke. To your total surprise, he chuckled, a sound that made you even more agitated. By now, you were sure that your face was the color of a fire truck.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Jake replied. “And no hard feelings about what happened. Maybe I should let my next novel play in New York in reference to our encounter. Also, I am at a bit of a disadvantage here, you know my name but haven’t told me yours.”

You quickly introduced yourself, and he reached over the desk to take the book you held in your hand. When you didn’t let go immediately, his hand stopped, and he looked at you with a puzzled expression. His fingers were brushing against yours, a fact that obviously overwhelmed your brain as you weren’t able to move a muscle to hand over the book.

Touching him made a spark went through you, and from the way Jakes eyes slightly darkened, you could tell that he had felt it as well. You stared into each other’s eyes for seconds until someone in line behind you coughed, and you snapped out of your frenzy.

“I assumed you want me to sign your copy.” Jake mumbled, still holding onto your book.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” You replied hastily, handing him the volume and internally cursing your body for the nervous, awkward way it behaved in front of this man.

Jake grabbed a pen, signing the front page and scribbling a note into the bottom right corner. He handed it back to you, and you opened to read what he had written. It was a row of numbers, and before you could make sense of it, he spoke again.

“That’s my number. I would love to hear some more of your potential book ideas, if you’d be interested. Maybe over dinner, or some drinks?” His voice was smooth, but there was a hint of insecurity, like the smallest crack in his façade.

Was he asking you out? Quick, you told yourself, say something.

“Uhm, yeah, sounds good.” Wow, great response. Pulling yourself together, you added “I’d love to.”

“Great. I’m looking forward to hearing from you, Y/N. Now, I’m sorry, but I think there are some more readers who demand my attention.” Jake said, pointing to the waiting people behind you. “I’ll see you around?”

“Absolutely!” you burst out, your own voice sounding terribly loud to your own ears, and without saying goodbye, you turned around and fled the bookstore.

+++

Back at home, you tried to make sense of everything that had happened. First of all, you had, one more time, acted like a train wreck in front of Jake Tapper. And secondly, it obviously hadn’t bothered him too much, because he had really asked you out.

What brought the next problem, what was an appropriate time to call him? Your head went through every possible option, from phoning him right now to never contacting him again to save yourself from further embarrassment. After some back and forth, you decided to wait another day, that gave you enough time to think about what to say to him.

+++

“Hello, Jake Tapper speaking.”

Hearing his voice was enough to make your own go slightly shrill with nervousness.

“Uhm, hi, this is Y/N, from the bookstore yesterday, you remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Jake replied, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was wondering, if the offer still stands, I’d love to have dinner with you somewhere.” You were proud that you managed to keep your voice steady despite your fluttering nerves.

“Absolutely, whenever your free. How does Saturday sound?”

+++

It was Saturday, and the restaurant you had agreed on was packed with people. The food was great, and the company even more so. After a glass of wine, your initial anxiety had eased down a bit, allowing you to engage in some actual conversation with Jake. He was as fascinating as you had expected, and you found yourself dreamily staring at his eyes and the way they lit up when he was talking about something he was especially passionate about.

You discovered your shared love for books, and the bookstore you had met in in particular, it was Jake’s favorite as well.

“How is it that I have never seen you there before?” you asked.

Jake shrugged, leaning back into his chair.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have much time to go there, and when I do its usually first thing in the morning when they open up. But I buy a book every time. And I’m glad we finally ran into each other.” He leaned towards you again, focusing his eyes on you in a way that made your body heat up.

“I’m glad you even wanted to see me again after that awful first impression.” You mumbled, it was still uncomfortable to talk about that. But Jake just chuckled softly, reaching out to grab your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. For a moment, the soft stroking of his thumb against your skin was everything you could focus on.

“It definitely wasn’t awful, far from it actually. And please don’t assume I wasn’t nervous as well, you are gorgeous and were browsing the politics section of the bookstore. I just had to talk to you.”his voice was dropping a bit as he pressed his thumb down against a sensitive spot on your palm, making you gasp slightly.

Somehow, the knowledge that you had made the Jake Tapper nervous gave your ego a slight boost.

"Well, you didn’t show it, but I’m glad I’m not the only one who felt that way.” You said, squeezing Jakes hand and, in a moment of bravery, began to slide your bare foot slowly against his leg. His sharp intake of breath told you that it had the intended effect on him.

“So you buy a book every time you’re in the store.” You continued, trying to appear unfazed while still keeping contact under the table. “Your bookshelf must be impressive.”

“I have quite the collection.” Jake replied, his voice a low growl now. His pupils were blown, making his eyes appear dark and almost hungry.

With a quick move, he reached under the table to where your foot had almost reached the inside of his tight and grabed your ankle in a strong grip. A tingling sensation went from where was was touching you all the way up to your core and you clenched your legs together.

„Careful, Y/N. Don’t tease me.“ Jake pressed out in a slightly stained voice.

The tension between the two of you was almost palpable by now.

“I’d just love to see your bookshelf, Jake.” you whispered, biting your lip. You wanted this man, and from the way he was watching you, you could tell that the desire was definitely mutual.

+++

One hurried bill and speedy car ride later, you found yourself pressed against Jake Tappers bookshelf by the man himself. Your hands were tangled in his hair as he was kissing you, his own fingers nestling with the buttons of your jeans. Your shirt already lay discarded on the floor along with his own, and the bare skin of his chest felt amazing where it was pressed against yours.

You groaned when Jake moved his lips to your jaw, kissing down your neck and softly biting into the junction of your shoulder. He slid your jeans down your hips, and you hastily stepped out of them before doing the same to his trousers, leaving the both of you in only your underwear.

When you grinded your core against his boxer-clad erection, he roughly grabbed your ass and pulled you over to the sofa.

"Enough with the damn teasing.“ he growled into your ear, pushing you down onto the soft cushions.

“Jake, please.” You whimpered as he unclasped our bra with one hand and pinched one of your bared nipples with the other.

You could barely think straight anymore, aching for his touch, your panties already slick with need. He pulled them down your legs, his fingers leaving a burning trail where they were brushing over your skin.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He whispered when his fingers finally found their way between your tights. He circled your clit, but the soft pressure he applied wasn’t enough for you.

“Please.” You repeated, your voice only a breathy moan by now. “I need more.”

Jake softly swore under his breath, retreating his fingers before standing up and getting rid of his underwear. He took a moment to look down at you, taking in your naked body, splayed out on his couch, your legs spread.

The intensity of his gaze made you squirm and bite your lip in anticipation, he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Look at you, all needy and ready for me. You are gorgeous, Y/N.” Jake said in a stained voice, before moving to lie on top of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss. His erecrion teased your entrance, his hands grabbing your thighs with a hard grip as he slowly entered you. You groaned into his mouth as he filled you until he bottomed out.

With a nudge of your pelvis, you encouraged him to start moving. His pace was slow at first, but he increased his speed as you raked your nails across his back and spurred him on with whispers of his name and pleads to go faster, harder.

“You feel so good, fucking amazing.” Jake growled, one of his hands grabbing a fist of your hair while the other one squeezed your ass, his nails digging into your skin, creating just the right amount of pain to drive you crazy.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and he groaned against your skin as he deepened his thrusts, driving you closer and closer to your climax.

His hard, relentless gaze never left yours as he was fucking you and being the focus of his unwavering attention gave you a heady feeling.

When he told you to come, it almost sounded like a command, and you clenched around him as you reached your peak. He followed you after a few more thrusts, holding you tightly as he came inside you.

“Wow.” You whispered, pressing your forehead against Jakes. He stroked your hair, eyes still settled on you, and it felt as if he could see your every thought.

“That was incredible.” you continued, and Jake hummed in agreement before pulling out and rolling off you. He still watched you with the same unreadable expression for a moment, before he spoke out.

“I want to be honest, Y/N. I hope tonight wasn’t a one-time thing for you.”

Your heartrate that had just slowed down a bit sped up again, a broad, happy smile settling over your face.

“That depends.” You replied.

Jake arched an eyebrow at you. “And on what exactly?”

“How impressive the content of your bookshelf really is.”